Christmas is in two days!!!
AHHHHH!!!!
Every year I promise I won't leave things to the last minute and every year I fail.
AHHHHH!!!!
Stress overload.
Next year, I'll be better. Might even get cards out and neighbor treats made and everything. Well, maybe. We'll see.
Two days?!?!
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Friday, December 18, 2009
I've Been Thinking...
And that's never a really good thing.
But, I have.
So, over here, we've beenobsessively kind of following the story of Susan Powell, a West Valley City wife, mom, daughter and friend who has been "missing" since Sunday, December 7.
Apparently, her husband of 8 years took their two sons, ages 4 and 1, camping at 12:30 at night in single digit temperatures only to return later the next day to find his wife missing.
Uh-huh.
The similarities between Susan and I are a little troubling. We're both 28. We've both been married for 8 years, and we both have children that are 4 and 1.
I, however, didn't marry a dirtbag.
And I know that in the United States, we have this whole "innocent until proven guilty" thing, and I certainly don't want to go on record as saying this guy is 100% guilty.
I mean, I'll go on record to say that he's a blazing idiot if he thinks that anyone in their right mind believes he took his two young children camping at midnight in December in single digit temperatures and then--in the course of a few hours--forgot what day it was so didn't call into work. Guilty? I'll reserve for the higher courts.
But here's the troubling thing:
If I were to have mysteriously vanish (she left behind her purse, car keys, cell phone, and car, so based on the assumption that she left unwillingly) my husband would be on EVERY news show that would have him. Dateline, The Today Show, Good Morning America, Nancy Grace on CNN, Larry King, in addition to EVERY local channel. He'd be pleading for my safe return. He'd send out messages about how much he loved me. He might even shed a tear or two or hundreds.
I'm not so sure he'd evade police investigations and hire one of the most powerful attorneys in the state.
I'm just saying.
But, I have.
So, over here, we've been
Apparently, her husband of 8 years took their two sons, ages 4 and 1, camping at 12:30 at night in single digit temperatures only to return later the next day to find his wife missing.
Uh-huh.
The similarities between Susan and I are a little troubling. We're both 28. We've both been married for 8 years, and we both have children that are 4 and 1.
I, however, didn't marry a dirtbag.
And I know that in the United States, we have this whole "innocent until proven guilty" thing, and I certainly don't want to go on record as saying this guy is 100% guilty.
I mean, I'll go on record to say that he's a blazing idiot if he thinks that anyone in their right mind believes he took his two young children camping at midnight in December in single digit temperatures and then--in the course of a few hours--forgot what day it was so didn't call into work. Guilty? I'll reserve for the higher courts.
But here's the troubling thing:
If I were to have mysteriously vanish (she left behind her purse, car keys, cell phone, and car, so based on the assumption that she left unwillingly) my husband would be on EVERY news show that would have him. Dateline, The Today Show, Good Morning America, Nancy Grace on CNN, Larry King, in addition to EVERY local channel. He'd be pleading for my safe return. He'd send out messages about how much he loved me. He might even shed a tear or two or hundreds.
I'm not so sure he'd evade police investigations and hire one of the most powerful attorneys in the state.
I'm just saying.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Heavy Hearted
Two years ago, I posted this. It was the diagnosis of a good friend with stage 4 colon cancer. And really, we all thought that she'd be gone by the beginning of 2008. That's how serious it was.
But she prevailed and endured and all those impossible things that sometimes we're asked to do and not know why.
And tonight, she finally got her reprieve.
Coincidently, I was talking to my mom about her yesterday. We were driving around Sugar House Park and I was telling her how it was any day now for M. Her cancer had spread into her spine and she was in pain 24/7. And I was telling my mom how I felt because when M. was put in the hospital following her stroke two years ago, I was the ONLY one to go visit her from the neighborhood. It was awkward--not really my forte--but I bucked up and went. And we had a connection. My entire family with the help of my Visiting Teacher partner's family put on her entire Christmas that year for her so they could save that money and use it for medical bills. I cleaned her house and did her laundry and brought in a few meals here and there.
But then some things happened and people with sticky little tentacles got all involved and I had to cut ties to preserve my own sanity and what not, and I haven't been as faithful to M. as I would've ideally liked.
And then I was excluded from her big 40th birthday party last month. While I'm sure I wasn't the only one who wasn't invited, it sure felt like that. And I played it off like it was no big deal, but deep down, I was a lot hurt.
But, as I always do, I kept it bottled up and, deep down, I kept thinking I'd stop by and see her, but I never got around to it, or some other lame excuse. My mom suggested that I go talk to her and let her know that the person that I was painted to be isn't really me and I had to get out of that situation because it was threatening to suffocate my very being.
And you know, it was too late even then. Because there were more important things that needed to be said by other people who were more faithful to M. then I was.
So I hope, tonight, she knows the truth that's in my heavy heart.
I've declared 2010 to be the Year of Zen, because there are obviously some things I need to let go. Just because someone has sticky tentacles dabbling in my business, I can sever them. Beat them off with a stick. Ignore them.
But she prevailed and endured and all those impossible things that sometimes we're asked to do and not know why.
And tonight, she finally got her reprieve.
Coincidently, I was talking to my mom about her yesterday. We were driving around Sugar House Park and I was telling her how it was any day now for M. Her cancer had spread into her spine and she was in pain 24/7. And I was telling my mom how I felt because when M. was put in the hospital following her stroke two years ago, I was the ONLY one to go visit her from the neighborhood. It was awkward--not really my forte--but I bucked up and went. And we had a connection. My entire family with the help of my Visiting Teacher partner's family put on her entire Christmas that year for her so they could save that money and use it for medical bills. I cleaned her house and did her laundry and brought in a few meals here and there.
But then some things happened and people with sticky little tentacles got all involved and I had to cut ties to preserve my own sanity and what not, and I haven't been as faithful to M. as I would've ideally liked.
And then I was excluded from her big 40th birthday party last month. While I'm sure I wasn't the only one who wasn't invited, it sure felt like that. And I played it off like it was no big deal, but deep down, I was a lot hurt.
But, as I always do, I kept it bottled up and, deep down, I kept thinking I'd stop by and see her, but I never got around to it, or some other lame excuse. My mom suggested that I go talk to her and let her know that the person that I was painted to be isn't really me and I had to get out of that situation because it was threatening to suffocate my very being.
And you know, it was too late even then. Because there were more important things that needed to be said by other people who were more faithful to M. then I was.
So I hope, tonight, she knows the truth that's in my heavy heart.
I've declared 2010 to be the Year of Zen, because there are obviously some things I need to let go. Just because someone has sticky tentacles dabbling in my business, I can sever them. Beat them off with a stick. Ignore them.
Monday, December 14, 2009
And the Battle Rages On...
Some friends asked Saturday night if things were getting a little better with Josh and church.
"Oh, yeah." I replied. "We haven't had a lot of trouble with him lately."
Sunday morning arrived and I got Josh dressed reasonably quickly and he sat down to eat breakfast. Everything was good.
Wade had gone outside to shovel the driveway and I was getting Aunika in her Sunday clothes. Mind you, I was slated to substitute for a Sunbeam class and it was nearing 8:55, but I felt like we were going to be reasonably on time.
That was, until Josh came running out of his room in nothing but his underwear.
I sighed and went in to find his clothes to wrestle him back in.
"Where did you put your clothes?" I asked him.
"I don't know." was his reply.
"WHERE did you put your CLOTHES?" I asked him again.
"I don't know."
"WHEREDIDYOUPUTYOURCLOTHES?" This was not a hard question. He had them on mere moments before and now where were they?
"I don't know."
Wade chose this moment to walk in. Which is lucky, because I was choosing that exact moment to walk out.
"I'm not sure how you're going to get your son to church, but it's up to you." I said. Or something relatively close to that minus a few choice words.
And then I left.
There is beauty all around. When there's love at home.
Fast forward 45 minutes, and in walked Wade, Josh and Aunika. Josh was wearing the same clothes I had put him in earlier. He ran over and said "Sorry mommy" (cue heart melt) and then grabbed my hand.
"Where'd you find his clothes?" I asked Wade.
"I couldn't find them. Josh found them."
And then he proceeded to give me a lecture on how I need to work on my temper. I thought I showed GREAT restraint. I was actually proud of myself for how cool (relatively) I remained because a few months ago, that stunt would've sent me over the edge. Well, further over the edge, at a much faster speed.
I think Josh has elevated the game to a new status. However, (and I didn't want to ask how it happened and under what threats) we can officially call this a win for the parents.
Bring it on Buster! Give us what you can. Because as the year is coming to a close, it's still Josh: 0 and parents: 46.
"Oh, yeah." I replied. "We haven't had a lot of trouble with him lately."
Sunday morning arrived and I got Josh dressed reasonably quickly and he sat down to eat breakfast. Everything was good.
Wade had gone outside to shovel the driveway and I was getting Aunika in her Sunday clothes. Mind you, I was slated to substitute for a Sunbeam class and it was nearing 8:55, but I felt like we were going to be reasonably on time.
That was, until Josh came running out of his room in nothing but his underwear.
I sighed and went in to find his clothes to wrestle him back in.
"Where did you put your clothes?" I asked him.
"I don't know." was his reply.
"WHERE did you put your CLOTHES?" I asked him again.
"I don't know."
"WHEREDIDYOUPUTYOURCLOTHES?" This was not a hard question. He had them on mere moments before and now where were they?
"I don't know."
Wade chose this moment to walk in. Which is lucky, because I was choosing that exact moment to walk out.
"I'm not sure how you're going to get your son to church, but it's up to you." I said. Or something relatively close to that minus a few choice words.
And then I left.
There is beauty all around. When there's love at home.
Fast forward 45 minutes, and in walked Wade, Josh and Aunika. Josh was wearing the same clothes I had put him in earlier. He ran over and said "Sorry mommy" (cue heart melt) and then grabbed my hand.
"Where'd you find his clothes?" I asked Wade.
"I couldn't find them. Josh found them."
And then he proceeded to give me a lecture on how I need to work on my temper. I thought I showed GREAT restraint. I was actually proud of myself for how cool (relatively) I remained because a few months ago, that stunt would've sent me over the edge. Well, further over the edge, at a much faster speed.
I think Josh has elevated the game to a new status. However, (and I didn't want to ask how it happened and under what threats) we can officially call this a win for the parents.
Bring it on Buster! Give us what you can. Because as the year is coming to a close, it's still Josh: 0 and parents: 46.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Just a Thought...
I HATE the snow.
HATE it.
HATE it.
HATE it.
*gritting teeth*
When I was 18 and a new freshman at college and it snowed and it was so miserably cold I could hardly do anything but go to class, come home, and sit in my bed under three blankets, including the heated blanket, I made an elaborate plan of how I was going to go to Hawaii. I had it all worked out too. I was going to graduate from CEU a semester early, move back to Salt Lake, take a few classes at SLCC while working full-time and sock everything I could into savings until I could afford the tuition at BYU-Hawaii. Which, by my calculations, was only about a year and a half thanks to a very rich aunt who died. Even with paying rent in an apartment.
Because, even after just a semester away from home, I realized I could NEVER move back in with my parents. I love them and I'd like to keep it that way.
It was a pipe dream at best, but it kept me fueled for the entire winter. However, the one drawback was that they didn't offer the program I wanted--Biomedical Engineering--and I was going to settle for a degree in Mathematics if it meant that I didn't have to stay in this hellish winterland any longer.
Ha.
But then I met Wade and Hawaii became just a distant thought. And my dead rich aunt made it possible for us to put a somewhat sizable down payment on our house, which in hindsight was probably a better investment than a math degree.
And I still got my math degree, and even got the privilege of paying for it myself. (By which I mean, Wade paid for it. But what's his is mine, and what's mine is his, right? Happy math degree, honey!)
Until this morning, when I realized that if I would've gone to Hawaii at 20 like I had meticulously planned, it would've solved a lot of problems.
Like waking up at 5:15 to get ready to run and finding the front door WIDE open.
Again.
And 3 inches of snow on the pavement. And it looked so beautiful, untouched, that I couldn't bring myself to go out and tramp along in it, (and I'm not a big fan of wet feet. Or the snow, as I may have mentioned earlier) so we moved our running to tomorrow, where it's going to be a nice 8 degrees at 5 am, but will feel like -1 degrees. Fun!
Funny, when I mentioned the door being wide open to Wade, he asked if I looked in the basement (presumably for serial killers. Of course, I did wake him up out of a dead sleep, so who knows) to which I replied: "They would've gotten us by now." and he said "maybe they're waiting for me to go to work." Then he turned around and went back to sleep.
Because only he would be able to sleep after casually mentioning that a serial killer was lying wait in his basement until Wade left for work before unleashing on me and the kids.
But then only he would suggest I go down and meet the serial killer face to face.
See, if I was in Hawaii, none of this would've taken place.
HATE it.
HATE it.
HATE it.
*gritting teeth*
When I was 18 and a new freshman at college and it snowed and it was so miserably cold I could hardly do anything but go to class, come home, and sit in my bed under three blankets, including the heated blanket, I made an elaborate plan of how I was going to go to Hawaii. I had it all worked out too. I was going to graduate from CEU a semester early, move back to Salt Lake, take a few classes at SLCC while working full-time and sock everything I could into savings until I could afford the tuition at BYU-Hawaii. Which, by my calculations, was only about a year and a half thanks to a very rich aunt who died. Even with paying rent in an apartment.
Because, even after just a semester away from home, I realized I could NEVER move back in with my parents. I love them and I'd like to keep it that way.
It was a pipe dream at best, but it kept me fueled for the entire winter. However, the one drawback was that they didn't offer the program I wanted--Biomedical Engineering--and I was going to settle for a degree in Mathematics if it meant that I didn't have to stay in this hellish winterland any longer.
Ha.
But then I met Wade and Hawaii became just a distant thought. And my dead rich aunt made it possible for us to put a somewhat sizable down payment on our house, which in hindsight was probably a better investment than a math degree.
And I still got my math degree, and even got the privilege of paying for it myself. (By which I mean, Wade paid for it. But what's his is mine, and what's mine is his, right? Happy math degree, honey!)
Until this morning, when I realized that if I would've gone to Hawaii at 20 like I had meticulously planned, it would've solved a lot of problems.
Like waking up at 5:15 to get ready to run and finding the front door WIDE open.
Again.
And 3 inches of snow on the pavement. And it looked so beautiful, untouched, that I couldn't bring myself to go out and tramp along in it, (and I'm not a big fan of wet feet. Or the snow, as I may have mentioned earlier) so we moved our running to tomorrow, where it's going to be a nice 8 degrees at 5 am, but will feel like -1 degrees. Fun!
Funny, when I mentioned the door being wide open to Wade, he asked if I looked in the basement (presumably for serial killers. Of course, I did wake him up out of a dead sleep, so who knows) to which I replied: "They would've gotten us by now." and he said "maybe they're waiting for me to go to work." Then he turned around and went back to sleep.
Because only he would be able to sleep after casually mentioning that a serial killer was lying wait in his basement until Wade left for work before unleashing on me and the kids.
But then only he would suggest I go down and meet the serial killer face to face.
See, if I was in Hawaii, none of this would've taken place.
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Score!
- I stopped by the DI the other day to look for a coat for Aunika. I saw a really cute one at Wal-mart not too long ago, but I wasn't about to shell out $25 for something she'll wear a handful of times before it's too small. And, score, I found one for $4 that looks practically new.
- Bonus score: the Steve Madden shoes I found that were brand new for $6. Steve Madden retails for anything from $50-$$$. And used shoes are hard to find when your shoe size hovers between a ski and a boat.
- I ran my usual run Friday morning at a balmy (if you live in the Arctic Circle) 5 am. Then I ran a 5k at 6 pm that was a blast. It followed the Bountiful Light Parade down the street and I was pleasantly surprised by the number of people who came out to watch the parade and cheer us on. Score, I finished with a new PR of 27:04, besting my last PR by 3 seconds. (Hey, 3 seconds is 3 seconds. Besides I got up caught at the first behind some lady who thought she was going faster than she really was. So, I KNOW I could've pulled off a sub-27 minute 5k.
- Bonus score: I ran the first mile in 8:11 and the second in 8:34, averaging out to be 8:22, which is faster than a Boston Qualifying pace. The third mile was uphill the entire way, so I slowed down to 9:14, but still it was a good pace for what it was.
- We went to see the lights at the zoo with my parents and my brother's family. It was a lot of fun, if not a little cold and the animals were all hiding. It dawned on me that the majority of the animals at the zoo are not equipped to deal with winter weather. The best part was the cougar who hissed at my niece in her wheelchair. My sister-in-law says it happens every time they come to the zoo. We scored when we went to Training Table afterwards for dinner and my brother told us the funniest story (that, sorry, isn't fit for blog consumption).
- We have an appraiser coming on Monday afternoon for our refinance, and there's nothing like a stranger who is going to look in every room of your house to kick you into cleaning gear and get everything organized. And score, I'm now back on track to having a Home for the Holidays. In fact, I'm on my way to having a Home for the Holidays by tomorrow.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
To Act Like the Rich, Be Frugal
Wade shared this article with me that I'm going to share with you:
http://www.bankrate.com/finance/financial-literacy/to-act-like-the-rich-be-frugal-1.aspx
Have I mentioned that Wade is the smartest person I know? Because he is. And not just inherently, (he is just smart, though. You know, like how some people are just dumb) but because he finds these cool articles to read.
We've always maintained that when we become millionaires our neighbors won't ever know. And people laugh at us.
"Like you'd stay in your current home if you were a millionaire." they all say.
What's wrong with our house? It's now 3000 square feet, which is more than the houses either one of us grew up in, and has a killer theater system, five bedrooms, and three baths.
But, they're probably right. We'd probably move. But not to some huge atrocity. I like our house, but it was a tract house. We didn't have any say in what went in it aside from the actual colors. But I don't want some huge thing up on the hill, surrounded by other huge things. Even our dream house (which is now off the market :( ) wouldn't really fit in in some of the pricier areas of Salt Lake and Summit Counties.
We are in the process of refinancing our home to a 15 year mortgage at an incredible rate. We got this incredible rate because (a) we've been fiscally responsible our ENTIRE lives, not just the life we've spent together. (b) We got into our home at an incredible price and resisted the urge to upgrade when everyone else was. (c) our home is worth almost $100,000 more than when we bought it--just seven short years ago. Banks pretty much laugh at us when they see our mortgage.
And I've said it before, we plan on being 100% debt free--cars, house, and basement--in five years. Which would make me 33 and Wade 36. We may stay here, because we now have the room (and I'm LOVIN' that basement), or we may move. But it'd just be a mile away because I don't see me ever going back to the city.
According to the article, Wade and I are well on our ways to being millionaires. By which I mean to say that Wade is well on his way and I'm riding his coattails.
In any case, one day we ARE going to be millionaires, and the neighbors will still be thinking "those Hadlocks really know how to stretch a dollar".
http://www.bankrate.com/finance/financial-literacy/to-act-like-the-rich-be-frugal-1.aspx
Have I mentioned that Wade is the smartest person I know? Because he is. And not just inherently, (he is just smart, though. You know, like how some people are just dumb) but because he finds these cool articles to read.
We've always maintained that when we become millionaires our neighbors won't ever know. And people laugh at us.
"Like you'd stay in your current home if you were a millionaire." they all say.
What's wrong with our house? It's now 3000 square feet, which is more than the houses either one of us grew up in, and has a killer theater system, five bedrooms, and three baths.
But, they're probably right. We'd probably move. But not to some huge atrocity. I like our house, but it was a tract house. We didn't have any say in what went in it aside from the actual colors. But I don't want some huge thing up on the hill, surrounded by other huge things. Even our dream house (which is now off the market :( ) wouldn't really fit in in some of the pricier areas of Salt Lake and Summit Counties.
We are in the process of refinancing our home to a 15 year mortgage at an incredible rate. We got this incredible rate because (a) we've been fiscally responsible our ENTIRE lives, not just the life we've spent together. (b) We got into our home at an incredible price and resisted the urge to upgrade when everyone else was. (c) our home is worth almost $100,000 more than when we bought it--just seven short years ago. Banks pretty much laugh at us when they see our mortgage.
And I've said it before, we plan on being 100% debt free--cars, house, and basement--in five years. Which would make me 33 and Wade 36. We may stay here, because we now have the room (and I'm LOVIN' that basement), or we may move. But it'd just be a mile away because I don't see me ever going back to the city.
According to the article, Wade and I are well on our ways to being millionaires. By which I mean to say that Wade is well on his way and I'm riding his coattails.
In any case, one day we ARE going to be millionaires, and the neighbors will still be thinking "those Hadlocks really know how to stretch a dollar".
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