Third grade put downs and other life lessons

I grew up in a home where there was a lot of laughter — usually at my mother or my expense, and usually after a zinger delivered by my too-smart-for-his-own-good older brother.

This upbringing helped me develop some life skills that are pretty important:

1)      Know how to be the butt of a joke with grace — I often am the one making myself the staring character.

2)      ALWAYS carry a comeback close at hand.

Now, in the moment, I didn't always love being the punch line. And I threw out my fair share of, "Well…you're a meanie head," comebacks. If you ask my hubby, he'll tell you that my defense in most compromising situations is STILL to throw out some old school name calling that ends in "head" or "face" — meanie head, jerk face, dork face, butt face, stupid head, etc.

Don't you feel insulted just from reading this list?

Now, I don't condone name calling. But, these are some gems so feel free to use them at your discretion. At minimum, they're AWESOME argument diffusers. Who can take a grown up seriously when they're busting out third grade put downs?

I feel like I need to add to my list of "life skills"...

3)      Add "head" or "face" to all name calling. It really ups the ante OR completely destroys your street cred...but life is a gamble so I really think the risk it worthwhile.

So, I guess the moral of the story is to appreciate the things in life that annoy you in the present (like a stupid head older brother) because they'll make you better in the future...and don't forget the lessons you learned in childhood. You never know when a third grade put down will come in handy.

I blame the oranges

So I took a little blog hiatus last week, and I'm sure the suspense has been building as you await stories about whatever preoccupation kept me from writing. So here it is. While you all were anxiously refreshing your browsers in hopes to catch a glimpse at a new post (just go with it...this girl needs dreams no matter how far-fetched), I was hangin' with two of my grandmas in Arizona and acting like a retiree.

I'm not going to lie. It was pretty awesome. Minus the frigid weather. The high temps for the 5 days we were there were 51, 49, 44, 51, 61...and on the day we left, 74. Go figure. The Hubbs and I have some pretty awful weather luck when we travel...rained and was unseasonably cool for most of our honeymoon, was unseasonably cool when I was in New Orleans last year, and there's a record freeze when we go to AZ. Take this as your warning in case you ever decide to travel with us.

In spite of the lame weather, the Hubbs and I were able to enjoy the retired lifestyle — we played shuffleboard, bocce ball, drove around in golf carts, went to dinner shows and the theater, learned how to make jewelry, swam in beautifully heated pools, and watched people far more talented than us work on stained glass, wood working and whittling projects. And we ate really, REALLY well.

Post gorging ourselves on all-you-can-eat (challenge accepted) ribs, chicken, ham,
green beans, dinner rolls, potatoes, baked beans, stuffing, oatmeal cookies.
I could try to blame the bulk on the winter coat, but you'd all know it's a lie.

Let's just say the Diet Nazi was put on hold, but the fresh oranges that I could get right off the tree outside at least kept me eating something besides carbs. They've also ruined me because the orange I picked up at the grocery store couldn't hold a candle to the citrus I was devouring in AZ. I haven't weighed myself since I got home, but if the poundage I lost has been found again, I'm going to blame the oranges (not the pancakes, french toast, BBQ ribs, salmon, pizza, popcorn, etc.).

We also met some lovely people...and one of them gave us a frozen salmon that he'd caught in Alaska where he and his family live the rest of the year. A trip highlight was definitely the reaction of the TSA security checker when she screened Hubby's carry-on bag containing the frozen fish...she had to run it through the scanner twice. When Hubbs said that she was probably seeing a frozen salmon, I was pretty certain our loot would be near the top on her "strange things people pack" list...either that or Hubbs would be taken into custody. And while I love him, there's a good chance I would've left him at the airport and taken it as a sign that I was supposed to stick around and enjoy the 74 degree weather.

Now that I'm back and being welcomed home by even MORE frigid weather...I'm so flippin' ready to retire. I can learn how to make beautiful things from wood, stone, glass, etc., play a ridiculous amount of card games, swim daily in a pool that's essentially filled with bath water, gorge myself on oranges, and take ballroom dance lessons (or about 9,000 other classes covering everything from foreign language training and photo editing to acting and silversmithing).

If any of you all would like to donate to the "help Sara retire" fund, I promise to let you come visit me in whatever warm locale I choose for my winter home. It'll be like a cooperative...but I get the master bedroom and you get the sleeper sofa. It is my brilliant idea after all. AND if you're really lucky, I might even snag you your very own Alaskan salmon...

That one time in Mitchell, SD

You know ANY blog with a title of "That one time in Mitchell, SD" HAS to be good. I promise not to disappoint.

The Corn Palace
See how it changes? Magnificent. Truly Magnificent.

When my older brother and I were in grade school, my mom worked as a high school Spanish teacher and had her summers off. So most summers we'd take a rousing family vacation…that was until the parentals decided we needed to go to South Dakota and hit all the "hot spots" – Mount Rushmore, Wall Drug, some rock I was told was "Crazy Horse" but I couldn't find a resemblance, and **drum roll** the Corn Palace.

Hot spots? If used in the same sentence as South Dakota, not likely. Rousing? Not a chance.

At first, I tried to be optimistic.

Me: "So, this Corn Palace, it's made entirely of corn?!?
Mom: "Kind of. It's a building that's decorated with corn."
Me: "Um, okay. Well, does it at least look like a fairy tale castle? Will I get to see a princess?!?"
Mom: "Well, not exactly like a princess castle. But, it's really neat. They change the outside design regularly, so if we go now and go back next summer, it would look different." 

Needless to say, expectations for the Corn Palace were pretty low…yet still too high. It was worse than we imagined. SO MUCH CORN. The hour or so tour mom forced upon us was brutal and followed up by at least an hour in the gift shop that was filled with…you guessed it – CORN. Corn T-shirts, paperweights, magnets, key chains. You name it, and you could find a CORNY version of it (I've been waiting for my chance to work in this pun…success)!!!

When it was FINALLY time to leave, we headed to or trusty blue van. Dad turned the key…dad turned the key again…and again…and again.

Crap. We were stuck at the Corn Palace. WORST DAY EVER!!!

So we got out of the van into the rather toasty summer air while dad, certified mechanic extraordinaire, did some diagnostics. Low and behold, the van's starter was kaput…right there in front of the Corn Palace. We weren't going ANYWHERE without a new part…and I was terrified.

No worries for the parentals though. Mom strapped on the fanny pack (no, they weren't cool then either) and off we went, on foot, to the Mitchell, SD, NAPA auto parts store to purchase a new starter for our van. Then, in front of the "majestic" Corn Palace, my dad scooted underneath the van (no small feat for a man of his stature) and began operating on our trusty blue chariot.

It felt like we were waiting for days, but mom had a fanny pack (function over fashion) and "shops" to explore, so she was good. My brother and I on the other hand were pretty sure we were never going home…I picked out a room in the Corn Palace to call my own, started memorizing the Mitchell zip code, and named the Native American statue that was sitting on a bench across the street. If we never got home, at least I'd have one friend in this lame town – even if he wasn't much of a conversationalist.

And then, by what I can only assume was a divine act of God, the big blue van started up, and off we went.

I've NEVER been so happy – sorry hubs our wedding is a close second to the day our family van rolled away from the Corn Palace. And as we left Mitchell, SD, I made a promise to myself, "I don't care if this thing looks like a REAL palace next summer, I'm not coming back. Ever."

Sorry, Mitchell, SD, zip code 57301, but I'm pretty sure that's a promise I'll keep. However, if anyone does venture that way, be sure to tell my buddy Clark Big Bear hello from me. For half a day, we were really tight. My only regret is that I couldn't save Clark, but on your way out of Mitchell, there's NO turning back. Sorry, Clark.

I think I've finally found my calling in life

I think I've finally found my calling in life: To offer parenting advice.

Cue the collective sigh from all my dear readers (especially the parents) who can think of about 1.5 billion other people they'd take parenting advice from before consulting me. However, BEFORE you comment that I have NO RIGHT giving you advice on how to raise your kids and then unsubscribe, hear me out.

I'm not about tell ANYONE what to do with their kids...I merely like to offer suggestions when solicited. And, sure, I'm one part of a DINK (Double Income No Kids) family with no immediate plans to change that status. But, I am also now a proud older sister to 6 (count 'em) siblings whose ages range from 4 to 10.

My parents' house is like a legit parenting experiment…a real life living-learning lab if you will. While I was home over Christmas break, I had the wonderful privilege of testing out some of my parenting gut instincts…and they weren't all half bad.

STORY TIME!!!

My siblings have an amazing knack for losing things that are literally RIGHT in front of their faces. Rather than spend ANY time looking for said missing item, they find my mom and say, "Mom, I can't find **insert missing item**." So, my dearest mom, tells them to look harder, and then she eventually gets up to go find the missing sock, toy, shoe, coat, glasses, dog, etc.

I've witnessed this chain of events more than once, and when my lovely sis (age 5) trotted downstairs lamenting a missing article, I suggested to mom that she charge a "finder's fee." Mom would go upstairs look for the lost item, and if she found it, little sis had to pony up 50 cents of her allowance.

At first explanation of the proposition, my sis blindly agreed to paying for my mother's bloodhound skills, but when mom re-presented the proposition by saying, "So, if I go upstairs and find it, I get 50 cents of your allowance, which means you'll get 50 cents less than your sis (age 4) gets for allowance. Do you want me to go find it or do you want to look a little longer?"

WAIT. PUMP THE BRAKES. Less money than my sister?!? "I'll go look a little longer," she replied. And magically, the lost became found…without the aid of my mother.

So, there you have it. My parenting advice is the bomb!!! From now on you can feel free to message me any questions or concerns, and I'll bust out my amazing parenting guru-ness…but only if you ask. I promise not to be one of THOSE people...you know the ones I'm talking about.

AND...a Diet Nazi update for those who care.

I've lost two pounds since Thursday...all while eating peanut butter m&m's, a cupcake, and a cookie...oh and also while logging "fitness activities" like Wii Bowling, destroying the ice dam at the end of my drive way, light daily housework and playing a Zumba fitness demo. AND this included a 2 pound wight GAIN after day one...yeah, I wasn't impressed. (In light of this, I feel like I can claim a 4 pound weight loss).

Imagine what could've been had I been legit with the plan and exercise. However, I'm feeling less and less HANGRY these days (my hubby might beg to differ), so hopefully I'll be able to stick to the plan a little more now that my body is finally adjusting to the new eating regimen. I'll keep you posted—and all my limbs are still as God intended...uneaten.