Cell Phone Law

A new “no texting or talking on your cell phone while driving” law passed in Oregon that has been in effect for about a month now. This means some changing of habits for me to say the least. Now I don’t need a law to tell me that text messaging while behind the wheel is dangerous. The few times I’ve done it, I’ve ended up either texting the wrong thing or texting the wrong person. Both were dangerous and embarrassing as I recall.
But this no talking on your phone thing, I mean really. It has thrown quite a wrench in my normal communication habits. I like to make calls when I’m out running errands because it kills two birds with one stone. Also, my kids are strapped in so I don’t have to attempt the nearly impossible task of keeping an eye on them while also relocating myself to another floor of the house or even out of the house all together in order to maintain a level of quietness in the background of my calls.
Now, there is a contingency option so to speak; this “hands free device” clause. Since my phone doesn’t have blue tooth capability I have come up with a couple of methods that sort of work for me while also staying within the bounds of the law...technically...I think...
One is where I give the phone to my three year old daughter to answer. I mean she’s not driving and she can talk so...this one seems pretty obvious. The only thing that sometimes interferes is her free will. Therein lies the wild card.
“Charley tell Daddy we’ll meet him at Baja Fresh in an hour.” I’ll instruct.
“Hey Dad, do you want to go to McDonald’s for lunch with us?” she’ll say.
“Your mom is taking you to McDonald’s? Your mom hates McDonald’s... Which one are you going to?” a confused daddy will ask.
“The one with the play place!” she’ll emphatically suggest.
“Off 224? Can I talk to mom?”
“Well, she’s busy driving right now so that’s why I’m calling. It’s unlegal ya know? Hey, I got new shoes! They are all pink and sparkly! They are a little bit big, but not too big because I am a BIG GIRL! Ya know Dad?”
“Um, yeah hey that’s great. Listen, Charley I have to go now because I have some work I need to do okay?”
“Okay. I’ll call you every five minutes!” Click.
Insert me into the background of this conversation saying things like, “No, Charley that’s not what I said!”, “Not McDonald’s-Baja Fresh!”, “ LISTEN TO ME!!” and “What did he say??” All this just to have her scold me for not being quiet while she was on the phone, “cause that’s rude. Ya know Mom? Oh and Daddy says I can get new shoes!” Yes, we are aware that she is delusional.
So what’s a girl to do other than take the phone while at a red light and try to discreetly send a text message while keeping the phone in my lap and one eye on the intersection in front of me so as to not appear as though I am texting. To clarify the crazy conversation my husband just had with our daughter he will then be obligated to engage in a string of confusing texts that read something like this:
“NOT! McD’s. Baha.”
“As in Bahahahaha the joke’s on you?”
“What? No.”
“Okay, so I’m headed out. See you in a few.”
“Where are you? We’ve already ordered.”
“I’m at McDonald’s off 224. Where are you?”
For obvious reasons I have found another method of communicating via the cell phone while driving necessary. In this scenario I’ve employed the “open the phone, set it in my lap and just yell in the direction of the phone” method. This works only if the other person is willing and able to yell back at me so that I can hear them. Devlyn sometimes is able to do this and we can exchange information such as, “I’m on the road and on my way to the dentist,” and “If you haven’t gone to the store yet, can you pick up some grape juice?” “Okay!” It’s successful, but a bit hostile to tell you the truth.
So for those times when I just want to call my husband, touch base and communicate sweet, endearing, loving and encouraging words, I’ve had to get REAL creative. Here’s what we do. I send him warm, tantalizing, love thoughts. (DON’T GAG! You know you wanna do it too!) Thoughts so dear and so strong that neither time, nor space, nor laws, nor three year olds can interfere with or keep them at bay!
Nonsense you say? How do I know it works? Because when Devlyn is at work and he receives these love thoughts, he immediately turns his collar all the way up around his neck. This is where he stores the thoughts until he comes home. They fit perfectly in this little makeshift cradle around his neck and ears. And once he gets home, I have visual confirmation that he received my thoughts and no one ends up eating lunch by themselves at a gross, greasy, grubby McDonald’s. Try it. You’ll love it. You’re welcome.

Jazzercise!!!! (This title requires lots of exclamation marks!)

I think it's time for a Jazzercise post. Where to start? I'm sure I have several posts on this topic in me. Like my instructor, Carrie, she's a whole post in and of herself. I know, I find a way to work it into most conversations, but in case you haven't been lucky enough to be present for one of those, I love Jazzercise. I don't go as much as I could, should or wish I did. I lack motivation, especially in the morning, but when I do go...look out, because I am on top of the world for the rest of the day! In fact when Devlyn calls at some point during the day, I'm always sure to mention that I went to Jazzercise that morning! I say this because I feel so proud and accomplished, but also so he'll know that he can expect a little extra dose of crazy from me that day.
I go and I think, why is this only the first time this week that I've gone? For a whole hour, I embody, well many things really. Whatever I want to, that's the beauty of it. I am the dancing queen, only seventeen. (You're welcome for sticking that song in your head for the next 24 hours!) I am a contestant on "So you think you can dance?" and "America's got Talent" as well as some of the lesser known talent search shows. High School Musical (is that just a singing one?), that Grease on Broadway one and heck, sometimes I just make the competitions up.
My class takes place in a gym at an old High School that is now being used for just such community center type events. But since it's in a gym with basketball hoops, giant mascots looming over the score board and Class of '97 "artistically" painted on the wall, I find that my mind wanders so far as to even pretend...I'm a cheerleader doing a half time performance. There I said it.
Besides the incredible exercise and freeing of the mind experience, it also provides great entertainment. There is quite a range of regulars in our class. All are women, but beyond that there are young moms determined to tackle the baby bulge, cute grandmas who are having a blast (I love to watch them dance to Gwen Stafani), middle age fitness freaks-that would be moms of teens or older who look more awesome than me (hard to believe I know). Shape, size and age varies naturally, as does personality. There are the improvers who are having a good time if you know what I mean. No self consciousness there and I say go for it. Hey, they are having fun and I can't help that it can be darn amusing! There are also the lip syncers and the not so in syncers... they just flat out sing along-you know who you are!
The attire is pretty tame, normal stuff for the most part which makes it extra exciting when someone wears a leotard over leggings, with scrunch socks and a sweatband. Oh how I wish I had an invisible camera at times like that. And because it's not enough that they are wearing a leotard, it always has to be some loud print like leopard or a neon color like magenta. Maybe they started Jazzercise twenty years ago and just haven't updated their work out clothes with the times. We'll just give them the benefit of the doubt.
I think these are the basics, but don't worry I'm sure there will be more. Oh so much more for me to share with you! Until next time, keep those jazz hands limber!

The Jaimie Chronicles

Jaimie shivered as she looked out the window. It wasn't early, but it may as well have been. The winter air was cold and crisp while the gray clouds hung low and motionless in the sky with no intention of moving. They were stuck there. Much like Jaimie.
She looked out the window and down the street through her puffy eyes. She couldn't see anything and was too tired to look much further. Further down the street, further down the road in time, in life, it didn't matter, she was too tired to look and there was nothing there worth looking at anyway. She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the cold window pane. Maybe it would numb her mind.
In the background she could hear her mother ranting and raving about nothing and everything at the same time. Where were her cognac, leather shoes? Where did she put the directions she printed off? And for heaven's sake where was their father already?! He always does this when I have some place to be! The unintentional muttering continued in an all too familiar, intentional way.
Jaimie felt guilty all of a sudden the he was their father. As if she needed to both apologize to her mother for having him for a dad and also scold her father for being late and ticking her mother off. The latter not because she cared that her mother had been made late, but because she cared that she had to sit there, trapped enduring the not-so-under-her-breath complaints.
Outside, a dog barked, a car came to a rolling stop in the muddy gravel and a horn honked. Music to her ears. She grabbed her backpack and headed for the door.
"Oh, nice! Don't get out of your car. Just honk annoyingly and grin like everything's hunky dory with you! Heaven forbid you care about anyone else for a change." Haley's words fell on tiny ears.
"Bye Mom. I'll see you...later." Six year old Noah said later because he didn't really know any other time more specific. Sometimes it was hours, sometimes it was days.
"Bye sweetie. I love you!" Haley proclaimed a little too emphatically. "Where's Jaimie? Is she in the car already? Did I ask her if she's seen my shoes lately?" Slam. Noah shut the door hard behind him.
"The wind must've caught it," Haley thought.

A Gardening Picture Story

Hi guys! It's me Charley. Today we're going to explore gardening! (She
has an Australian accent in this post. It's very crocodile hunter like.)
You're a bit early, I was just getting the proper accoutrements on. It's
awfully bright out here and you know as well as I do the dangers of sun damage! So grab your nearest, stylish, uv ray proof wanna be shades
and let's get going!

That's betta! Now let me locate my tools! Make sure you have a pair of over sized wellies nearby, just for looks!

Hmmm, so these are what gardening tools look like...

"Mom? Is this the right dirt? Should I use this?"

Okay, let's see what we have here...eww, looks like dirt sure enough. I can tell because it looks so...dirty...

Um, yeah on second thoughts...let's just put that dirt back. Don't want to mess up mother nature's plan...the one where little girls stay clean and flowers plant themselves!
See ya next time!

Have You Seen This Kid?

This is Tanner Johnson (the one on the right). He goes to our church and I believe he's in high school. He plays the violin beautifully....unlike me (see below).
Devlyn wants to kidnap him. That's right. I don't know what it is. Could be the hair, could be his size (I must admit, he is the perfect kidnapping size) just something about him makes Devlyn want to drive by and throw him in a white, windowless, van. We've talked about doing this several times.
It started one day when we were out driving, running errands, I suppose and we saw Tanner at a bus stop in Oregon City. It was on top o' the hill, a very unsuspecting location for sure! However, there were a couple of problems with our plan (I say "our" because we're married and part of the deal is that we suck each other into weird stuff that comes out of our heads, weird stuff like this). First of all, we didn't have a van. We had a little SUV with two kids in it. So, not real threatening. Second of all, we decided it would take at least two guys to pull this off (we are not two GUYS). And the guys should be a little more intimidating than Devlyn. You know, bigger, balder, maybe have some tatoos, maybe someone like Jim Chapin?
The other dilemma wasn't really a dilemma after all. See Tanner had a bunch of friends with him. But these were for the most part pint size punks. So we didn't think they would deter the mission at all and actually would serve as a bonus. If you're going to try to pull something like this off, you kind of need an audience to make it all worth it.
So, if you know Tanner, you might want to tell him that weather he knows it or not, he's just walking around begging to be kidnapped! One of these days Devlyn just might abscond with him! That is if he ever gets the right crew of guys, white van-oh and music! We decided the perfect music to be playing in the background would be Shakira's "Objection Tango"-that's also our bank robbing music, but that's a different story.

Edith and Merle

Let me tell you about a sweet, quirky old couple named Edith and Merle. They are still madly in love with each other and tell each other so when they are sitting on their porch, rocking and drinking lemonade together.
They are actually us, Devlyn and I, when we are old. We have given each other old people names (no offense to anyone reading this who happens to be named Edith or Merle). When one of us does something quirky, the other will say something like "See, now that's something Edith would do" or in a tone of a little more desperation, it goes like this, "Merle! Stop that's embarrassing!"
Edith is forgetful. She buys flowers, plants them and then forgets to water them. Sometimes she forgets to plant them before she has a chance to forget to water them and they die ever so young. Such a waste.
Edith can get away with saying anything to anyone. There are things that Edith thought of and wanted to say when she was young, but showed amazing restraint, deciding that it would be more memorable and have more pizazz when she was old.
Edith loves pizazz. Edith wants more drama in her window treatments and garnishes in her ice cubes. Edith freezes garnishes in her ice cubes!
Edith is not a pack rat. She purges things from the house impulsively not wanting useless junk to build up and clutter the house. Sometimes she does this so impulsively with her mother's voice running through her head saying, "When in doubt, throw it out!" so loudly that she throws out things she regrets. She is then forced to beg and plead with Merle until he agrees to go down to the hospital thrift shop and buy the item back. Merle would do this for Edith without all the begging and pleading. He would do anything for Edith. But he does love it when she begs and pleads.
Merle does things like puts out five ones side by side on a table at a restaurant when they first sit down and lets the waitress know that she has already earned that much tip. Now, she can un-earn dollars throughout the coarse of the meal or she can earn additional dollars. Merle loves this game. He sits there with his stack of ones watching her every move, speaking slowly and cryptically when he orders making sure he is not misunderstood. Merle orders liver and onions for no reason other than it grosses Edith out. He also orders diet cola. He drinks diet coke, he is addicted to diet coke, but should the particular restaurant establishment feature Pepsi, RC or some other cola, he doesn't want to know for sure that what he's drinking is not diet coke. Merle puts miscellaneous items like coconuts in Edith's purse just so he can watch her confusion and embarrassment when she reaches in and pulls them out in front of the teller at the bank.
Merle insists that Edith trim his toenails for him. When she doesn't, he picks and tears at them when he's in her presence, like when they are in bed or when he is driving the car. He insists that it's because she doesn't trim them for him that he's left with no choice but pick, rip and tear at them at that very moment! This picking noise drives Edith NUTS!
If Merle had to choose between letting Edith eat him with a spoon or spread him on toast, he would choose...toast, no wait spoon...yeah, toast. Definitely toast!
Some of these things Merle and Edith do, we do now, some of them no. You can use your imagination to decide which are which. Though I do buy accessories sometimes just for Edith to wear in the future. I think she'll appreciate it. Don't you?

A Defensive Post, in Retaliation to (you know who you are!)

Recently I overheard a friend ranting about blogs (I say overheard, because even though I think I was an intended member of her audience, I was carrying on another conversation on the side). Anyway, my friend, the first one was saying how they (blogs) are all alike and they are just a place for moms to talk about their kids and share details of their SAHM lives with each other. (Forgive her, she is not a SAHM and therefore doesn't relate at all). I was however, as you can imagine, outraged! Obviously she had never visited this blog.
I am not as good with the camera as many of my fellow blogging mom friends are and have such a bad memory with the cute kid stories that when my husband comes home, I find myself telling him how funny the kids were that day and that in particular there were a few "new" phrases, words or sentences that my two year old used so hysterically that he would die if he knew what they were. Fortunately for him, I don't remember what they are and isn't he lucky to have such an attentive and thoughtful wife who spares him from having to nightly DIE of amusement from his hysterical children, who are growing up, learning and changing every day behind his back, while he goes to work so that I can drag the kids to target when I'm bored and it's raining (often) and impulsively over buy under priced items.
Even if I were as good with the camera as many of you are, the food I make is rarely worth taking a picture of, though usually delicious and who wants to read about delicious food without a picture? Or who wants to read about delicious food with a gross picture (see above)?
In addition to these faults, lies the real truth to my whacked out blog. I am much too selfish to waste limitless blog space on others when I could be indulging myself with disillusions of grandeur in which you all are desperate to read what's rolling around in my head!

Mocha-Latte's and Diamonds Don't Mix

Now, hold on. If you're like me, an avid espresso loving, coffee drinking, bean grinding, true Northwesterner, I know what you're thinking (cause you're like me) and we'll get there, oh believe me I've got your back on this one!
It seems that there are some non-coffee drinkers among us. Which is fine, to each their own. I'm not into forcing (wasting) good espresso on people who don't appreciate it. However, when these same folks start addressing us, as if they are one of us and throwing around the term mocha-latte, I have a problem. Besides the fact that it just grates on my nerves to hear someone say mocha-latte (for you non coffee drinkers who don't do this, there is no such drink!! There's a Mocha and there's a Latte) the context of them using it is usually something like this, "If you just give up your daily mocha-latte, you could save xyz, or you could afford xyz..."
Recently I heard this term used in just such context. It was in an ad on the radio by a well known business owner with a very distinctive voice...I don't remember which station but you can hear him on almost ALL of them I'm sure. I won't tell you exactly who it was, but I have a pretty good idea where you can find him Monday-Friday till 8, Saturday and Sunday till 5. As if that that's not enough of a hint, I can tell you that after hearing this ad, I didn't feel like making any friends in the diamond business.
The jist of the ad was that, guys if you're thinking of buying an engagement ring but are worried about the cost of a nice ring, well he (this unnamed business owner) did the math and if you gave up your daily gourmet mocha-latte for a year, you'd have enough to buy a very decent ring for your (PATIENT) girlfriend. Now, I say let's think about this scenario a little bit deeper. What am I really hearing when I listen to this ad? Something like this, "guys, if you're addicted to espresso and you're thinking of buying an engagement ring for your girlfriend, why don't you listen to a finance program put together by a non-coffee drinker who obviously doesn't have those crazy love chemicals running rampidly through his brain on top of the daily caffeine overload, because he seems to think that waiting a whole year to propose AND abstaining from espresso this entire year is going to have a happy ending.
Well, I propose that the ending would look something like this..."A very desperate, cranky guy walks into a jewelry store and throws down $1,095 and freaks out when he sees his very decent engagement ring, because well, it's just not big enough and shiny enough to win back his, well his estranged girlfriend.
I think maybe non-coffee drinkers shouldn't interfere with the bond/addiction between us and our espresso. We don't ask that they understand, just that they stop asking us to give up our daily mocha-lattes!

Conversation(s) with my Daughter

I frequently find myself talking to my seventeen month old daughter. This really comes as no surprise since I used to and still do when she's not around, talk to myself. But since the day I found out I was pregnant, I began talking to her. I mean it was 2005, she had allot of catching up to do!
So, in the car for example, I would let her know when another driver had done something incorrectly. Or when I was being less than a courteous driver I would justify to her why Mommy had to do that and how it was okay because Mommy doesn't have a metal fish on the back of her car. I would also play lots of music for her, letting her know which songs were my favorites and what they meant. "Here comes the best part," I would say as Jars of Clay prepared to go into a certain riff. If we got in the car and Toby Mac was blasting I would explain that Dad had driven Mom's car last and would now be looking for that CD for a week.
The best part though was that before she was born I could share food with her without actually having to sacrifice any bites off my plate. And back then she miraculously loved all the foods I loved. I continued drinking lattes for example, even though certain people told me I should give up all caffeine and even chocolate while I was pregnant, (just because you put the letters MD after your name doesn't mean you can go around telling people what to do) because Charley loved lattes so and I thought you know she only has these short nine months to enjoy them before she has to give them up for a whopping sixteen years or so! Now sometimes she was a bad influence on me as well, I admit as a parent in training there were times when I would give her an inch and she would take a mile! For example, I would get her a latte and she would kick out in Morse code that she also wanted a scone. What was I supposed to do? Kick back "no"? You can't go around kicking your fetus!
Anyway as time has gone on our conversations have become more two-way, which is both good and bad because she doesn't always agree with me the way she used to. However, she comes up with her own ideas which are great. For example my husband came home the other day and I casually informed him that Charley wanted to take ballet lessons. "But, I told her that she can't until she's three. She was sad." Devlyn replied with the usual, "Do you hear yourself?" Sometimes he does mix it up though and just gives me a look which means, "DO YOU HEAR YOURSELF?!"
I do. I hear myself. Charley hears me too, and I............hear Charley!