Today's Lesson

Two things I want to talk about today: grammar and spelling.  I'm in no way a grammar-snob-a-saurus.  I don't know enough about it to be a snob-a-saurus.  When I do learn something and then hear it misused it drives me nuts.  And probably more than hearing it- reading it... Agh!  I'm not referring to blogs.  I mean this is an outlet for us all.  We are free to write as we wish.  I'm talking poorly written books.  (Twilight, Eclipse, New Moon, Breaking Dawn....)  My biggest pet peeve (aside from when people say "pet peeve") is when someone uses "funner" or "funnest."  Those are not words.  And I'll correct you on it.  Huh, Natalie?  My second most irritating is "anyways."  Not.  Right.  And third would have to be "could care less."  That's not right.  Think about it.  If you could care less... let it sink in... there is still part of you that does care.  And that is not what you are trying to express.  You should say "couldn't care less."  Doesn't that make more sense?  I'll put myself out there and say I don't have it right all the time.  But I do 99.8889% of the time.   
I'd like to profess that I am an excellent speller.  You might be surprised to know that good spellers, like myself, do not know how to spell every word they want to use.  What they do know is to check if they are not sure of a word's spelling.  Biggest spelling bugaboos?  Ahhh... how long can the list be?

1. there, they're, their
2. whose, who's
3. your, you're, yore (<--- always makes me think of Christmas... wait that's yule)
4. know, no
5. forth, fourth (Do you know these are different words with different meanings?  I didn't just spell fourth wrong.)
6. its, it's
7. through, threw, thorough
8. stationary, stationery
9. right, rite, write (rite is not shorthand for right.... rite means a ritual)
10. choose, chose
11. All right, alright (Alright is not even a word.)

Okay- that's a small scratch on the surface.  I think they are all homonyms.  Homonyms are words that sound like each other- if you couldn't pick that up from context clues.  This list of eleven I've got down.  I  don't make mistakes with them unless it is out of haste. 
As a pro, I still have my hangups.  There are some I still have to think through. Some of my favorite tricky ones are:
1.  lay, lie Lay the blanket down so we can lie in the shade
2.  affect, effect Loud music affects my hearing. I ignored the harmful effects so long and now I am deaf.
3.  all ready, already I went to the bathroom already so now, I am all ready.
4.  allude, elude The principal alluded to budget cuts as the murder suspect eluded us.  I don't know why there was a murder suspect in a school board meeting.  It just came to me.

Fascinating, huh? In college I had to buy a Quick Access Reference Guide for a class.  I am confident in saying that if my best friend had to be inanimate- it would be my Quick Access.  I love it and recommend everyone purchase one.

Big Bully

Bullying is all over the news now.  They act like it's new.  Like this is the first generation of kids being bullied.  Uh... it's not.  I was bullied.  BIG time.  By a kid name Vince.  I was a freshman and he was a senior.  We rode the same bus home.  #6.  In the morning I had seminary so I didn't see Vince.  But everyday, without fail, we met on the bus for the ride home.  I guess we were both going for Perfect Attendance.  Vince made fun of me for one reason.  I liked the blond boys from Tulsa, Oklahoma.  Hanson.  MmmBop, baby.  This is the reason Vince started his browbeating.  Dumb,  huh?  Everyday he would taunt me for liking Hanson and how Hanson was "gay" and they were "faggots" and I was "really stupid" for liking them.  He bothered me so much.  One day he even wore a Hanson t-shirt.  That hurt my feelings.  Looking back, Vince was a senior who rode the bus (not cool Vince) and picked on a skinny freshman no name girl because of the music she listened to.  I don't get the motivation.  But that's probably because I am such a kind hearted human being.  I don't know what happened but one day it reached a point where I couldn't take it anymore.  I had tried ignoring it.  I tried just slinking down in my seat.  Even when I did Vince would intimidate me.  I got off the bus and cried.  I cried my whole walk home.  It was only about a block.  When I got inside my mom wanted to know what was wrong.
"I hate Vince!"
Mom didn't like us to use the word hate.  In fact, we weren't allowed to say stupid, hate, kill, shut up, or sucks.  I was sobbing as I told my mom the whole story.  How everyday Vince made me feel dumb and small and I hated him so much. 
Mom told me that Vince probably needed a friend.  She explained that a lot of bullies don't have any friends and that by picking on people they can connect in some way.  My mom told me that my best plan of attack would be to try to become friends with Vince.  No one picks on their friends, right?  She said that the next day on the bus I should ask Vince questions about himself.  Let him know that I cared about him and wanted to be his friend.
I was so relieved.  I wouldn't be picked on anymore!  Vince and I were going to be friends!  All I had to do was ask him questions about himself.  How easy is that? 
I still remember what I wore that day.  I wore my pink pinstripe shirt Uncle Victor gave me and light jeans that flared a little at the bottom.  I borrowed a pair of brown "cool" shoes from Julie.  I couldn't wait for the bus ride home.
I was on the bus before Vince as usual.  He came home and smacked all the seats as he passed.  "Hey loser." He smirked at me and took his seat at the back of the bus.  It didn't even bother me- "Hi Vince!" I said with all the cheeriness and sugar in the world.  He stared at me.  Then he gave me a disgusted look.  I was still smiling.  "What the heck* are you smiling at?"
"I'm just happy to see you today.  I am glad you are on the bus.  I wanted to ask you a few questions."
Vince got this smile on his face.  "Well, go ahead."  And he gestured his hand across his body as if to welcome me metaphorically into his life.
I was in!  I was going to be able to ask him my questions and we would be friends forever and I would show him how to be nice and nobody would ever be tortured by Vince again. 
"Well," I began, "What's your favorite color?"

If you are thinking this ends happily ever after- and me and Vince became friends and he changed his ways and softened his heart and loved every living creature after I ake him what his favorite colors was.   You would be terribly wrong.

"What's my favorite f'ing* color?  Are you kidding me?  You're f'ing* asking me what my favorite color is?  You're out of your mind!  Turn around!  Don't look at me!  Don't ask me questions!"

The berating continued as I turned around with tear-filled eyes, slipped as low as I could in my seat,  and muttered... "Do you have a favorite TV show?"

Ultimate humiliation.

Bullying is not new.  I was bullied and I told my mom.  She didn't go to the news stations or the principal.  And I'm not saying that is wrong.  But I was able to tell my mom there was a problem.  She was available and had a viable solution... even though it didn't work. Maybe these kids now aren't going to their parents.  How do you make sure your kids talk to you?  I have no idea and that scares me.  Kole jabbers all the time now.  I can't get him to zip it up usually.  But, I know, one day (when he's not 8 months old) that won't be the case.  And if it was that scary for me when I was in high school it's worse now.  I'm sure of it.  But I think it can be stopped.

Are you wondering how it ended with me and Vince?

I have found him on Facebook.
His favorite color is pink.

Winning the Jackpot

My littlest sister, Andi Candy Girl, has won the jackpot in every imaginable way.  She is out of this world beautiful.  And has incredible INCREDIBLE style.  You know those pictures in magazines where models are dressed in these super hot outfits and you think "Yeah, but I could never wear that."  Andi can.  And she looks spectacular. 

She also scored big time with her hunk of a hubby who is absolutely perfect for her.  Her husband poses for photo shoots, brings her ice cream in bed, write songs on the guitar... what a man.  They are each other's perfect match.  He is really sophisticated.  He is also a native Mexican.  I was skyping with Andi and I told Rodrigo that he looked sophisticated.  He didn't know what that word meant so Andi explained it as "Sexy Smart."  I thought sophisticated was more brother-in-law appropriate but he understood the compliment much better after Andi's description.  They live in the coolest house in Monterrey Mexico.  I know, right?  Hot all year- lime trees in the back yard- all that great Mexican food.  Ahhhhh.  To be Andi.

For work- she teaches at a private school.  She teaches how to use Mac computers and (temporarily) teaches Language Arts.  She is Young Women's president in her ward.  She is an outstanding photographer.  With a wildly successful business, DoublClik.

The woman has it all at the mere age of 24.
You know how else she has totally scored the jackpot? 
           .....well besides having me as her sister..... hehehehe

She made a Mormon Messages video and hers was picked as a finalist.  She is in the top 10!  Talk about talent.  Talk about a major score!  The winner is picked by public vote.  Do I even need to ask?  Here is Andi-Girl's message to you.  Read the message.  Watch the video.  Love it.  Vote.


Hello All!


I have received good news from the Latter-Day Saint "Mormon Message" Video Contest!
My entry "Stand Tall" has been made a top 10 finalist in the US/Canada Amateur category!
A "Visitor's Choice" and second round of judging starts today and will be open for 2 weeks. Visitor's choice voting will close on Monday, April 4th.
You can access the following link: http://classic.lds.org/visitorschoice


Access the Amateur-US&Canada category will you will see my "Stand Tall" message along with 9 others that made the cut.
Check the box "This is one of my favorites", at the bottom you will see "Next". You can only vote once!
An award of $500 will be given to the winner of Visitor's Choice in each category. 2nd round of judging will also reward $500 to 3 entries in each category.


Spread the message!


Much Thanks,
Andrea Hernandez

Lesson Learned.

Around Groundhog's Day I got a bird feeder for the backyard. I love having a bird feeder.  My mom says it's the perfect way to have a pet.  Birds being your pet.  When we first moved into our house there were 5 or 6 bird feeders and just as many houses.  We had our own aviary back there.  But, over the last 5 years- the birds have migrated.  Part of that was probably Rusty, part of it was Ken slowly (and secretly) throwing away the feeders and the houses.  Last summer he even threw out the birdbath.  I missed all my little birdies.  So!  I took matters into my own hands and got a new feeder.  No birds showed up.  Nothing.  I watched and watched.  Nothing.  I went out and sprinkled some food on the ground hoping maybe they would smell it.  (?)  Nothing.  I figured all of the birds must have been traumatized in some way and have made personal vows never to come back to my yard.  I told Ken about my dilemma.  After making fun of me for calling the lack of birds in our yard a dilemma he said that it was winter and birds just aren't around.  But I knew he was wrong.  I hear them chirping in other people's yards!  Some birds stay and need food!  I have their food!  Come and eat it!
Well, a couple weeks ago I finally had some visitors.  Squirrels!  I was so happy!  There were 3 or 4 of them that would scramble around the yard and chase each other and then stop for a little picnic.  They would lounge on the branches and make squirrel sounds to each other.  They looked so relaxed.  I considered bringing out little umbrella drinks for them.  You know, so they would feel like they were really on vacation.  Ken was not excited when I told him about the action I was getting on the feeder.
I did not understand why people were so against squirrels eating their bird food.  Come on!  It's all nature!  You're putting it out there.  Help where you can.  If the squirrels need it let them eat it.  I wasn't about to hang a garbage can lid over my feeder or put little pointy edges on it.  I wouldn't even hang a No Tresspassing sign next to the feeder.  No way.  Not this girl. I welcomed all to my abode. 
Plus!  The squirrelies were really entertaining.  They could hang upside down and eat.  They would jump from one tree to the nest tree to the feeder to the next tree.  It was hilarious!  Ken continued to warn me that the squirrels were bad news but I figured he just didn't like the idea of some squirrels mooching off our property.  Yeah, that's a Ken thing. 
So, as the days passed a bird or two came too.  I knew all it took were the squirrelies to lead the way.  There was tons of activity out there.  Me and Koley would just sit at the window and watch.  One morning I saw the seed was getting pretty low (it was empty) and I decided during Kole's nappy I would go fill it up again.  Well.  I grab my bag of seed, go out there and am shocked by what I see.
Those squirrels ruined my feeder!  I looked past the muddy paw marks all over it- a little dirt never hurt.  But the chewing.  They have chewed around the entire rim.  Nay!  They chewed off the entire rim!  They cracked 5 of the 6 foot-holds for the birds.  I am sure by doing their "acrobatics."  And, AND!  When they couldn't reach the seed in the very bottom they chewed through the plastic and made new holes.  It's so gnarled and mangled.  And ugly!  No wonder no birds want to come eat at Patty's Bird Paradise Cafe.  It's been vandalized by all that squirreling around.
You know, you put your hand out to help, you trust those squirrels, and you wind up burned.  They walk all over you.  Sure, those squirrels looked really cute and I had fun watching them but I bet if I asked them if they chewed up my bird feeder they would all say it wasn't them.
PAH!
Dirty, rotten, lying squirells.

Patty's 4 Best Ideas for the Little Girls

1.  YOB Christmas Party. YOB=Boy spelled backwards.  This was an exclusive club consisting of me, Julie, and Andi.  (The Little Girls.)  On occasion we would let Kelly Langenohl come.  We talked about boys.  Duh.  At Christmas it dawned on me to kick our club into high gear with a killer Christmas Party. What is a successful, well-established club without a Holiday Celebration? The party was in our basement- which was not finished.  It had cement floors.  But there was couch and a TV and a whiteboard.  The whiteboard was the star of the Christmas Party.  Our main event was Win, Lose, or Draw Christmas Edition. I wrote all these Christmas phrases on pieces of uneven paper that I cut and put them into a little cereal bowl.  I hung a wreath that Andi made in school out of construction paper. So the room had a very Christmas-y vibe.  Sorta. There were snacks.  (Try not to laugh Andi.)  There were 2 little bowls.  Little like the size smaller than cereal bowls.  One had rolos in it (wrapped in the red and green foil) and one had Lays potato chips.  I know how to throw a party!  I think after a couple hours Julie and Andi asked if it was over and if they could leave.  You know a party is a good one when people ask to leave.
2.  Turning Our Room into a Jungle.  We shared a room in the attic.  No heat.  No air conditioning.  We had electric blankets in the winter and just suffered through the summers.  I think this idea stemmed from seeing a stuffed snake in an IKEA catalog.  I convinced the other girls that if we had a really cool themed room it would be so easy to keep clean and everyone would want to hang out in our room.  Our plans were over the top.  We could flip our bedspreads over so the all green side showed.  We'd get a few of those stuffed snakes to hang over the stairs.  We could buy fake flowers and vines and hang them all drapey from the ceiling.  Our lamp could be transformed into a palm tree.  We could tape tissue paper over the lights so they would shine in different colors.  We could get bamboo and put it on our walls and over our beds like a canopy.  There would be a ton of fake trees so it would be like a maze to find our beds!  This was going to be the coolest room ever.  It was a big dream that got as far as putting a green hula skirt that we found in the dress up over our floor lamp.  To make it a palm tree- get it?  And I had a small stuffed gorilla we set by the lamp.  What a rain forest haven we created.
3.  Summer Olympics.  I can't take all the credit for this idea.  Kudos to the ancient Greeks.  But I did come up with Olympics for me, Julie, and Andi.  Well, I was the judge- so it was Julie vs. Andi.  Some of the events were.  Rolling a garbage can to the top of the hill and back down.  Jump roping.  Timed slalom on your bike.  I think there were like 10 events.  I went to DiStefanos (local drug store that had one row for candy that we always referred to as a candy store.)  and got all the supplies.  And I got a prize (big bottle of bubbles) for the first place winner and made a certificate on the computer and printed it on purple paper.  VERY special.  I really thought the competition would be a little closer.  But Julie was ruthless.  She never gave Andi a chance to win.  As the competition was winding to an end and I was reviewing the days statistics on my clipboard (yes, I had one.)  Julie had won all the competitions and Andi...hahaha... poor Andi was just happy as can be- working her heart out- and winning nothing.  I realized I should have gotten a prize for her too.  While she was rolling the garbage can up the hill I talked to Julie about giving something to Andi.  Since she was trying to stinking hard!  I think (correct me if I am wrong) when the day ended Julie got the purple certificate for being the first place winner and ANDI the second (and last place) got the bubbles!  The things we do for our sisters. 
4.  Friday Food Feast.  Friday Food Feast revolved around TGIF.  Vicky and Krissy were gone and out doing things so I am thinking I had to be at least 14.  My dorkiness has lasted well beyond it's time expectancy.  Basically what I did was find anything to eat in the house and wrap it up in tin foil (so it was a surprise) and carry it down stairs to eat while we watched TGIF.  I made pepperoni inside of crescent rolls once.  That was a big hit.  I called it Patty's Pepperoni... something.  Ha!  I was such a little piggy.  The more food we could get the better!  The bigger the feast- the more fun we would have!

I love being one of the Little Girls.  Sisterhood Forever.

For another Little Girl classic- click......

HERE!

Hold Onto Your Butts.

If you believe in witch-doctorey than you believe that I no longer have a brain tumor!  Hip Hip Hooray!  Come to my party!  Send me a cake!  It was the craziest thing.
There is a woman in my ward who is a big believer in angels and healing and some things that you really have to think outside of the box for.  Things I have always viewed with a high level of skepticism.  Me and Tammy T. (that's her name) were talking one Sunday and she said she knew a Healer and I should come get my problems taken care of. "Oh sure!" is what my mouth said. "Get real!" is what my head said. I had absolutely no intention of following through.  Tammy followed through.  Relentlessly.  Maybe I'm more of a quitter someone who likes to back down after one no.  Or I at least have a keen sense of social protocol so I back down after 2... maybe three if I really feel strongly about something.  Tammy never backed down.  She never took no for an answer. One week I was in Salt Lake, one week I was in Rigby.  One week I just said it wasn't a good day.  She kept calling!  I told my thoughtful and empathizing husband about my problem and he said I got myself into this predicament and there was nothing he could do to help.  It's obvious why I love this man to smithereens.  Last week- I was home.  And she called.  And said I had an appointment with "The Healer" at 3:30.  Ugh.  The last thing I wanted was some nutball smacking my forehead and telling me I was healed and was no longer possessed by devils.  But to end it all I said, "Great!"  While my mind said, "I hate my life."
When we got there he was visiting with/healing someone so I had to wait. Tammy started telling me more about this guy.  He was from Rexburg.  Strike One.  She met him in a grocery store. Strike Two.  You might be thinking that everyone needs to get groceries- that shouldn't be a strike.  Yes every one needs groceries but it just seems so commonplace.  It would have been much cooler if she met him in a Wardrobe in Narnia or on the Path to Mordor or maybe at the Three Broomsticks.  She was mid sentence when I was summoned in.  Honestly, I was expecting long white beard, glassed over eyes, shaky voice, bony hands with warts, a staff, flowing robes, and maybe some dry ice. 
He was nothing like that.
He stood about 6 feet tall.  Green sweatshirt, light blue Levis,cowboy boots, a rather Santa-looking belly.  Balding. He did have rather large eyes and big hands.  I thought "That is sorta' healer-y."
He shook my hand and stared at the wall.
There was actually a lot of wall staring.  That's how he heals.  He told me I had a brain tumor.  I figured Tammy told him.  He knew the dimensions. Freaaaaaakkky.
"You have my attention."  I said with a smirk.
We talked tumor for a minute and then he said, "Let's just get rid of it right now."
You can make fun of me all you want but I was like- this man is honestly going to get rid of my tumor! 
And then....
He made me a believer.
The lights started to flicker, the TV went off and on. The man started to shake and his eyes rolled back in his head.  My hair stood on end.  Spooky music came out of nowhere!
Really he just stared at the wall and then very anticlimactically stated, "It's gone."
I did get the chills.  It felt like it really was and IS gone.
I felt totally relieved.  No more expensive medicine, no more fertility problems, no more tumor!  How wonderful.

Of course the only scientific way to prove that it is gone and this man IS actually a healer would be to get a MRI and when I asked Ken if I could he simply stated:

"You've been drinking too much of the Kool-Aid."

"I'm gonna stay 18 forever...."

I really don't like Rexburg.  I haven't for a long time.  I think it's because I don't sit at "the cool table" where everyone else there sits.  And all the people at the cool table look at me and judge me because I pack my lunch and it only has 3 things in it.  I think my harsh feelings stem from the university there.  That university where I was told to "leave and never return."  What's it called?  Oh yeah.  BYU-I.  I don't even like that name.  The "I."  Ugh.  Is it so hard to say "Idaho?"  No one calls the other BYUs BYU-P and BYU-H.  But BYU-I is just so cool an trendy.  Barf.  Barf all over that school.
Last night I was heading up there to see my parents. (their house is the only place I do like in Rexburg) I was harboring all these resentful, hateful feelings inside of me just like I do every time I drive up there. I thought to myself, "Why are you doing this?  It's just a town.  What is bothering you so much?"  I didn't know.  But, since I was a little early and Kole-Money was sleeping I decided to drive around the town and try to feel something nice towards Rexburg.  Something maybe a little less hostile.  So I started my tour.  I started remembering a lot about being there as a student.  That girl I was at Colonial House #606.  I wore huge hoop earrings and was totally "in love" with a man 5 years my elder who had absolutely no long term intentions with me.  Love is ______ when you are 17.  It  was so easy to completely devote myself to the idea of being with him.  Eternally.  Pa.  Lease.  Then I drove by Aspen Chalet and thought of the man I was "in love" with that lived there.  Everything seemed so much the same.  It seemed like the same cars were parked in the parking lot.  The same boys were riding the same bikes.  It was the same temperature and the sky was overcast just how I remembered it being almost 10 years ago.   I felt my little teenager heart beating inside my chest.  I drove past the Ridge and thought of the summer I skipped every morning class to go swimming with Tori.  And I laughed when I remembered I only had morning classes and didn't have a swimsuit.  I did have a matching bra and undie set that I wore as if it were a bikini.  No one Every one knew.  When I drove through campus I remembered classes and professors and this one geology class I took.  Ha.  As part of the class we had to hike this mountain (it was more like steep hill) on a Saturday morning to observe the geological formations in the valley.  I sat next to this totally cute kid and we flirted on the hike and we totally made out the whole way home.  On the BUS!  At BYU-I!  Nothing bad just kissing.  But- Ha!  What the heck, Patty.  What were you thinking?  What was his name?  Anyway- the more I drove around the harder I laughed.  I kept thinking of these silly memories. What a coot I was.  When I got to my mom's house I felt like that girl from 2002.  The know-it-all- in-your-face girl.  Young.  Reckless.  Slightly lost.  Borderline bad but with just enough good. I felt that way all night.  And the whole way home.  I just felt like doing something crazy.  I felt like Patty Bradley.  It was a surreal feeling.  When I got home I put Kole to bed and went into the bathroom.  I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and surprised myself.
I saw a strong and confident woman.  A woman who is grounded and loyal and faithful.  She is patient and tolerant.  She looked safe and prepared.  She is at peace and full of will.  She is a woman who loves and respects herself.  I smiled thought:
I am that woman in the mirror.  It's amazing that I had to change so much to be... me.

Cub Down

Kole is sick- which means I have been home bound for days.  DAYS I tell you!  It makes this mom a little crazy.  I'm still not huge on leaving my house but at least I knew I had the option.  The lack of option is what is driving me to drink.  If I had any Cokes or were allowed to drink them I'd be all over that.
Kole-meister started last Thursday with a little bit of the sniffles.  Nothing I was too worried about.  I figured it'd be gone in a day.  You know when you wake up a little groggy and slightly on the stuffy side but by noon it's all cleared up and things are normal?  That's what I thought we were dealing with.  Not this beast.  Friday he woke up completely caked in green snot.  Deeee-scusting.  I know that as a mother nothing your child does is supposedly gross- this was.  I didn't mind cleaning him up- but seeing it... everywhere- Hair, hands, cheeks, ears, mouth, lips, neck- was pretty foul.  And I felt bad for the little booger butt.  I laid him down and wiped his face. He fought me the entire time.  Sorry, bud, a little back arching isn't going to get you out of it.  But then I tried to suck some of the mucous out.  Let me say that I've got one scrappy kid.  He fights with everything he's got.  He'll scratch you, gum you, throw anything that is on the changing table at you (or at least bang you with it over and over andoverandoverandover again), kick you, and scream into your ears.  I guess instead of scrappy I should say resourceful.  He's a resourceful fighter.  Yeah, that sounds more positive.  I've resorted to leaning over him with one arm and putting my hand in his mouth.  Yeah he bites it but it keeps his head still enough so I can suck all the boogs out.  And they just keep coming.  I mean his head is only the size of a cantaloupe how is it that there is a never ending supply in there?  I'm baffled!
We all know how these cold-things work.  The nose drains into the throat and you get this super phlegmmy cough and rattled breathing.  Kole although generally quite exceptional is no exception here.  His cough makes him sound like he's a WWII vet and has been downing cigs since he was 14.  A couple times he has really got hacking and then vomits.  One night he woke up around 4 and I went in there to make him feel better.  (Come one.  You have to when they're sickly.)  I was rocking him in his chair over my shoulder and cough- cough- puke! All in my hair and down my back.  I lifted him to my front to see his face and was saying "Oh, poor Kol..." YACK!  All down my front.  "Oh, poor stinky soaked-in-throw-up mommy."
And, a question for you experienced moms:  How do I make him take it easy?  I can tell he's sick.  I know he needs to spend the day sipping orange juice and watching mindless television.  But, he can't have citrus yet and we don't have TV.  He wants so badly to keep moving and shaking but it just makes him more tired, worn out, and sick.  What's the secret?
It's hard for me to see him sick.  It's hard for him to see himself sick. He doesn't like looking in the mirror since he got sick.  Oh, the vanity.  The nurses said it could last for 14 to 21 days.  Are you kidding me?  We are on day 6.  And his little red eyes and nose are so pathetic they are bordering on cute.

My Serpentine

Lately I have been feeling really really good about myself.  Since about the time I purchased my jeggings.  I've felt myself coming out of the loser cave.  The tulips are coming out of the ground, I've got some jeggings, I'm cool, I'm feeling good and looking good. Now.  I have an extremely strong sense of self.  (Have I not made that obvious enough?)  I know who I am and I have a deep love for my body. Especially after having Koley. I am so proud of what my body can accomplish.  I never ride myself with guilt about weight.  I believe it is a number and nothing more.  What really has mattered to me is how I think I look and how I feel.  So.  When I get all dolled up and look in the mirror the following phrases escape my perfect lips:
"Damn girl!  You look fiiiiiine!"
"Work it babe."
"La-hove that top."
"You look spectacular."
I give myself so many compliments that I don't need or expect them from other people. 
Some may call it conceited I call it confidence.
However, this weekend I saw a home video of myself.  A very recent one.  And the following phrases crossed my mind:
"Yikes."
"I have never seen myself at that angle."
"Is that a double chin?  No...wait.  Three chins?"
"Uh. Oh."
"It's all been a lie."
Now.  The initial blow was shocking.  I lamented to Ken about how I couldn't believe I bought jeggings and have been wearing them!  And he didn't stop me!  He didn't think to say stick with overalls?!  Or to say "I love you sweets but you have like 3 or 4 rolls hanging over your jeans that look to be at least 2 sizes too small."  I guess (to rationalize) in my head I still have a crystal clear picture of my pregnant body.  When everything was so huge.  Chest, face, stomach, legs, and feet.  So when I see myself now I think that I look nothing like that pregnant lady who possessed my body.  In fact, after I had the Koley Cub I lost a ton of weight.  I went from 208 to 146 in no time and without doing anything but wearing sweats and crying my way through post pardum depression.  When I did finally put real clothes on to leave the house I remember thinking, "This is what it feels like to be skinny."  My pants were too big for me.  That had never happened to me.  I loved it.  And the confidence that I had stuck with me even as the pounds found their way back onto my thighs, face, and stomach.  I was so delusional. 
Last night I told Ken to take a good long hard look at me because next weekend he would probably notice some changes and might not even recognize me.  There was a new wind blowing.  This morning I had a bowl of granola instead of my normal donut or danish that I would accompany with hot chocolate.  Step one accomplished.  Do I still like me?  Yes.  I love me.  I love who I am and how I present myself.  But the rose colored classes are off.  I ran on the treadmill while Koley took his nappy and I'm a little sore.  I may have pushed myself a little hard this morning.  But when you put on Appetite for Destruction by Guns N Roses it's hard NOT to over do it.
Welcome to the Jungle Baby.

Camera One. Camera Two.

I just found out that I am partially color blind!  That sound ludicrous, doesn't it?!  I'm still not a full believer that I am- you tell me.  Here's how it played out.
Me and Ken took Kole on a walk on Sunday.  Ken made me wear my winter boots.  He claims there would be a lot of puddles.  I foolishly believed him.  And ended up lugging heavy winter boots through near perfectly cleared streets.  I think he wanted to intensify the work out. 
Anyway we were walking around the neighborhood talking about if we were ever to paint the outside of our house which color we would paint it.  Ken said he would like to paint it green.  So as we're cruising we are looking for a house that is the hue of green he was picturing.  And I see a bluish gray one in the distance, "I like that gray one."  Ken said it was green and it was the green he really liked.  When we got closer it was more green than gray.  That in itself is not proof that I am colorblind- but Ken and I started talking about our differences in colors and how could I possibly think that house was green.  This is when I started telling Ken about camera one and camera two.  "You know.  You open one eye and everything is kinda blue-ish and then when you switch eyes everything is really rosy and then together it's the perfect combination.  I was just looking at it with one eye."  Ken was floored.  He had no idea what I was talking about.  All this camera one color and camera two color was so foreign to him.  I explained it over and over.  One eye everything is pale looking and the other eye everything is reddish and together they make the color everything is.  Ken disagreed. He said both of his eyes see the same color.  I was floored this time.  I honestly believed everyone was like this.  I'm 26 years old and I JUST found out not everyone sees more blue in one and more red in the other.  I consider this a disability.  I wonder if I could get one of those handicap signs for my car.  Test your eyes.  Do you see the same color out of both?  I'm dying to know.

Lady Ga Ga

When I was pregnant I decided I never wanted to talk to my baby in "Baby Talk."  All the sugary goo goo gaa gaa schlumbo makes my skin crawl and my ears burn.  I felt like as a responsible parent and contributor to society I needed to educate my offspring on how humans interact with each other.  How they speak and communicate.  I don't hear adults going over statistics in a board meeting with over-inflated voices.  Reaching screechy-highs and making their voices sound like tickles.  Probably because they would all have headaches after 5 minutes.  So!  It was no baby talk from day one.  Now.  I constantly offer words of encouragement.  I drench Kole in praise.  He has a very strong support team.  I use very positive speech and phrases because I believe I am already shaping his self-esteem.  You may disagree- but the great thing is he is my baby.... so what you think doesn't matter that much.

Lately though, I have slipped into a rotten little habit.  It's more annoying than rotten.  It's annoying me and I can't stop.  When I talk to Kole.  I put a -y on to everything.  Kole-Y.  Jump-Y. Horse-Y.  So I end up saying in a normal toned adult voice.  Would you like-y to jump-y in your horse-y, Kole-y? Would you like-y to eat-y some baby food-y?  Do you want-y some oat-ies?  Take a napp-y in your crib-by.  Let's change-y your diap-y.  Look-y!  There's Kole-y!

Oh.  Gosh, Patty, Do you HEAR yourself?  It's Gross.  And that G most certainly should be capitalized.  You should capitalize the whole word it's that GROSS.  You are disgusting.  It's worse than baby talk. 
Make it stop.  Make it stop. 

Jeggings

Okay.  I have been wanting skinny jeans for a long time.  Every time I see them on someone I am like- "Ahhhh.  She looks good."  No matter what size, weight, dimensions- they look good on everyone!  Now, I love my legs.  Love them.  Well, from the knees down at least.  My calves are huge- like my dad.  But I like that look.  Sculpty.  So I bought some jeggings.  Jean leggings.  Funny, huh?  What a silly name.  But I tried them on and was not instantly sold.  I thought, "Okay.  Okay.  So, They look good on everyone but me."  I actually passed on buying them the first time. First two times.  But I just kept thinking about them!  And what everyone says about their comfort and style.  And I so badly wanted to be one of those cute girls with their skinny jeans, rider boots, and trendy trench coats.  It took 3 days of debating but I went back and bought them.  Saturday I debuted them with brown suede rider boots and a trench coat.  One dream has come true.  I wish I had a picture to share but just know that I looked somewhat like this:

Only I have darker hair.  Other than that... pretty close.

"We're on Vacation."

When me and Ken-bo take a trip somewhere- we like to come out of our shells. When we question each other or ourselves as to whether or not we should do something- the answer always seems to be "We're on Vacation."  Which means yes.  We order fun things on the menu.  Like appetizers AND desserts at lunch time. Because, "We're on Vacation." Or we'll go window shopping and see something we love that is maybe out of the souby budget.  (Souby- n. souvenir)  But we look at each other, smile, and throw our hands up, "We're on Vacation."  Should we wear matching touristy sweat shirts? "We're on vacation."  Can we kiss and hold hands in the middle of a crowd? "We're on vacation."
"We're on vacation." is a free pass to do whatever the hellya want to do.
This week me and the Koley-olly-o went on vacation to Salt Lake to see Ken.  Ken and I lived by our same "We're on Vacation" rules.  We ate out every meal. (Salads, gyros (on homemade pitas), authentic tacos, best little Chinese around, Caputos.... ahhhh.... the works.) We were loud and goofy in public. We saw who could splash the biggest in the pool.  We wore pajamas in the middle of the day.  Heck!  We're on vacation.
Then, when Ken would go to work I would put on my Hawaiian shirt and hit the town.  "I'm on Vacation!"  One day Julie came up and we swam with the babies.  One day we went to IKEA (where I ate really good and really cheap pizza) and Ross (where I didn't eat any pizza at all--- but was really hungry.)  One afternoon Kole and I hit the City Library.  Which.  Was.  Huge.  6 LEVELS!  Aye Kamamma!  The parking garage was 2 stories.  We're talking reader's paradise.  The very bottom level was my favorite and was for the kiddies.  All the doors were small and kid sized.  They have special nooks with themes that kids can go in to and read.  Like one was an attic, one was an ice cave, one was a robot factory.  It was phenomenal.  I love it when something is geared that much towards kids.  I mean I wish the Pleasant Hills Public Library had that when I was growing up.  I would have felt much cooler being a reader.  Now I just know reading is cool no matter what you say.  I spent an hour or so down there looking at picture books with Old King Kole.  "We're on vacation!"
I also spent some of my vacation in the Salt Lake Cemetery.  I happened upon it by mistake- but when I pulled in I figured I was on vacation and could spend some time walking around in there.  (The weather was SO nice.  We didn't even wear coats.)  So I'm walking around the cemetery and wouldn't you know it?  ALL the prophets are buried there!  I was so surprised and really excited.  John Taylor, Heber J. Grant, Wilford Woodruff (and wives), David O McKay.  I couldn't find any of the real modern ones but Ken said their headstones probably weren't as big and elaborate as the older prophets.  Those old headstones were at least 12 feet tall. 
Hmmm.  I like to read and enjoy spending time in cemeteries.  Winner!

Interesting fact- Kole has inherited our "We're on vacation" motto.  I'd say it's a combined "We're on vacation" mixed with "I'M A PARTY ANIMAL!!!"  He didn't sleep in his crib.  He slept in between me and Ken. (Romantic.) I just figured he was saying "I'm on vacation and this is where I want to sleep."  He didn't take any naps."I'm on vacation!  I'm not wasting any time on a dumb nap."  He stayed up late. Like 11.  "I'm on vacation!  Time doesn't matter!"  And you know... he was in the best mood.  So giggly.  He knew it was vacation.  The first night, after a failed attempt to get him to sleep in a porta-crib I brought him into bed with us.  And everything was so so funny.  We got all settled in and then Ken rolled a little bit and Kole busted a gut.  I re-situated and that set him off too.  If Ken breathed funny the child went wild.  By the end of the trip you could blink and Kole would be in hysterics.  I think that is called delirium.  But, that's what you do on vacation.
We came home Wednesday.  Kole fell asleep at 7:30 and got up a 9:30 the next morning.  Was back in bed at 11.  Slept until 1:30.  Went down again at 3 and slept until 6.
So- yeah- vacation is great but dang it feels good to be home.