Ginger Unplugged

Okay, we all know that it's been alleged that I can't cook. I refuse to believe it and my family plays along because they'd rather not starve (Crash is right now reading over my shoulder and vehemently protesting my lack of skills). Anyway, Husband usually makes fudge for the neighborhood for Christmas but I found this "much easier" recipe in a magazine I accidentally lifted from the Instacare (but that's another blog). It's called Festive Fudge . I thought Husband (by the way, Crash is also vehemently protesting "Husband's" blog nickname. He would like to change it to The Baldinator). Anyway, I thought HUSBAND was going to take this article and do the fudge. He apparently thought I was taking over the fudge making. Consequently it was a fudge madhouse around here the weekend before Christmas. Mistake number one is probably stealing the magazine in the first place. Don't do that. Heaven will not be on your side. No matter how many ti...

One of my current joys in life is carpooling for one and a half hours every school day. This is due to Princess getting out of middle school, then Crash and Butterfly getting out of elementary school, then Princess needing to be to swimming. Monkey and Sleestack have miraculously learned to deal with it gracefully (this is where angels sing the Hallelujah chorus). We also pick up two other kids after elementary school--let's call them Adorable I and Adorable II. They are THE BEST sports. Especially when Crash is in charge of the backseat games. Or someone hit and runs me and I chase them down. Or when someone has a messy diaper. I'm thinking if their mom reads this, their carpooling days may be over. Anyway, they all like to play a variety of games in the backseat, including mind games created on the spot by Crash. Crash: Okay, pig is to bacon as cow is to what? One, two... (Adorable I has three seconds to answer.) Adorable I: WHAT!? Crash: Wrong. The answer is hamburge...

Out and about the other day an adorable little girl came up to me. "Excuse me, Ma'am. Ma'am? Excuse me. But your baby looks like a hippopotamus."

We've long known that Sleestack was special--her awe inspiring eyes, perfect smile and cuteness that makes my neighbor say, "Hey, I even have a baby and YOUR baby is the cutest baby I have ever seen." Her list of talents includes making delightful cooing noises, giggling more than any other 7 month old on the planet, being happy nearly 24/7 and now, eating everything she comes across. Everything. I've decided this is much more advanced behavior than it seems. Because, you know, first she has to see stuff. Little pink bead stuck between the carpet and the wall? No problem. Small bit of white Styrofoam on white carpet? Check, check. That inch of fishing line on the bottom of the baby swing? She hones in on it with laser sharp precision. Next, she has to grasp it. You know I have a lot of kids, right? Well none of them were able to pick up carpet fibers at the age of seven months. Sleestack was born for this task apparently. I've been vacuuming twice a day. Do...

I parked in "Author Only" parking today even though I'm pretty sure the parking people didn't mean me. Hey, in this profession I gotta take all the perks I can get. And as a side note, Monkey was stolen by giant frogs. I'm sure they'll bring him home soon.

Okay, remember way back when? Like maybe a year ago? And I said, "My friend has written this awesome book and it will come out in 2010 and you all need to buy it--it's THAT good." Well I lied. It came out in 2009 (October 13th to be exact). And it debuted at #10 on the NYT bestseller list. And is NOW #7 (unless it went up again.) So go buy yourself a copy!! It's called Hush, Hush by Becca Fitzpatrick. It's a paranormal young adult thriller/romance. Yes, like Twilight I guess, but BETTER. BETTER!!! Plus, the cover is coooool. That's a real model on a trampoline. It's worth the price for the cover alone, don't you think? AND also worth a few bucks for the acknowledgments wherein you'll find MY name. Yes, you heard it here, my name is on a bestselling book. Someday maybe it will be on the COVER of a bestselling book. But for now, I'll take any bragging rights I can get. Becca was really too nice on that one. Go buy it. You'll like.

Besides the obvious similarities between our baby and a sleestack, what you don't see is that she constantly practices unique sounds of the hissing variety. No lie.

1. My dad making sugar cookies for us all on the special holiday plate. They are THE BEST cookies. For those of you who love "Smart Cookies," he calls these "Genius Cookies." (He is not very humble about his sugar cookie skills.) 2. My mom bringing homemade socks. They are THE BEST socks. I never where any others if I can help it. 3. Crash making Halloween balloon shapes for kids if they gave him two pieces of candy. He specializes in snakes, pumpkins, bats and ghosts. Want one? 4. The realization that I will never make seven costumes in one month again. Ever. I won't. Don't ask me. 5. Talking to mom on the couch for an hour or two. 6. My dear friend making me a yummy dessert out of the kindness of her heart. 7. The show some of my favorite neighbor boys put on when trick or treating...there is still fake blood all over the porch. Very aesthetic. 8. The almost full moon. 9. The extra hour of sleep tonight. Sometimes daylight savings is a good...

because I just can't take it! All those medals won in swim meets across the nation should be given straight to the parents of those swimmers. Those kids just had to swim. Do you know what their families had to do? First of all there are those practices every single weekday (and weekends for older swimmers). And it's not like you can stay with them while your little ones play at the park like with soccer or baseball. It's just a heck of a lot of driving. Now I've just attended my first swim meet--what a madhouse. These are my top seven most hideous moments. 1. Being told to go through the women's dressing room to get to the pool. "All of us?" I asked with my 5 children, including 10-year-old Crash in tow. "It's the only way," I was told. That's a direct quote. Well somewhere along the line Crash got kicked out or something because when we emerged through the maze of benches, lockers and teeny-tiny tiles--no Crash. I put three childre...

Princess: Dad, what does 'hyperverbolate' mean. Husband: It's when you use too many verbs in a sentence.

Well, I've kept my goal for a whole month of not posting without pictures. Basically, very little on the planet makes me take pictures I guess. So, it's back to posting with or without pictures. Because very little on the planet can keep me from writing.

Following in the footsteps of Jorge Garcia , my mentor in all things pop culture, I have a goal to never post again without a photo. Except for, uh, maybe this post because it's hard to take a picture of a goal.

Why does everyone make such a big deal about circles not having a beginning or an end? It's not like squares have a beginning. NO POLYGONS HAVE A BEGINNING!!! This is the part where crash stomps off in disgust at the world's ignorance.

Crash: "Oh dang!" Me: "What?" Crash: "I forgot to chew." A conversation ensues about how you are supposed to chew each bite of food 50 times. No one believed me. I told them I'd read it somewhere. (Okay, that's probably not true, I read something about how many times you should chew but I can't remember the figure.) Crash: "50 TIMES!? No way. I gag if I try and chew 50 times. You gotta check out this video on youtube. There's this X-ray of this guy eating an apple and he seriously chews twice and swallows. That bite was totally vaporized." First of all, Crash doesn't watch youtube as far as I know. And I have a pretty good handle on the computer stuff going on. Second, I guess I'm not the only one that totally makes up bogus chewing statistics in this family. Nice legacy I'm leaving. But at least maybe he'll remember to chew every bite at least twice. Usually.

1. Snowskiing: I used to get out of school regularly to ski with my parents. How cool is that? Well, okay, it's cooler when you're younger. I learned how to ski when I was 3. I used to do a trick with my dad where I'd zoom up behind him and go under his legs--until the day I got a little too tall... 2. The Initials TM: He puts them on everything. EV.ER.Y.thing. 3. Bungee Cords: He doesn't leave home without them. They even made it into his extremely limited baggage space to Europe. He hooked them together to make a clothesline for drying his freshly washed undies in Vienna. I'm pretty sure they all say TM, too (the bungee cords AND the underwear). 4. Harleys: When I wanted to serve a mission for my church my dad offered up the money to support me. "Do you know what this is?" he asked. "It's a Harley. But it's worth it." (I added that last sentence. I think he actually made some crying noises instead, but I'm sure the intent was ...

"Mom, you know how when you think it's like a voice talking to you in your head?" "Uh, sure." "Well I find it works much better if there are two voices and they talk to each other."

Just heard in the kitchen-- Husband (hanging up the phone): I just won a free chiropractic visit. Princess: For what? Husband: For being awesome...I guess. Crash: What!? You just won a trip to California for being handsome? Husband: ....yes.

I should probably be thinking about what to give my mom tomorrow but what she wants isn't currently available. So instead, I'm thinking of what my mom's given me. Happy Mom's Day, Mom and thanks for: The '69 Camaro. Ah, good times. The desire and ability to drive dangerously, although Dad contributed some to that. My bleeding liberal heart. The completely insane sense of direction. Ah, good times. An open mind. Pointless psychic abilities--you know what I'm talkin'. Don't you think it would be more useful to KNOW you're seeing the future before the future catches up to you? Slight flaw in the whole ESP thing. My love of reading--although that Bell Jar book is blah. The belief I can do anything I set my mind to--which is why I still always think I know exactly where I'm going when there is a whole mountain of statistics that say I don't have a clue. Independence. Courage. A healthy disrespect for doctors, pious martyr types and anyone else who...

Watch out, Mom. Watch out! We're experiencing sudden bursts of speed! Really? Are you feeling sudden bursts of speed? Well, no, but our blue dot is stopping and then zooming ahead! I'll be careful. Oh, and if you look over to the left, you'll see a railroad track. WAIT! Is there a pond down there? We're coming to a curve. There! Are we curving? Uh, yes we are. You CAN look out the window and see the curve if you like. Or maybe feel it with your sense of balance? No way, this is cool. Can you go faster? Our dot slowed down. There are lots of cars all around us. Look. Oh. Weird. This thing isn't showing any other cars. Maybe you can go through them. Try it!! Oh and over that mountain is another railroad track. Can we go see it? Um, not today. Be careful! Careful! You're getting close to this gray grid where there isn't anything. Would you just look out the window for a minute? There's no grid! Okay, now turn that way ( he is being m...

Crash got the coveted "WOW" award at school yesterday. Each class in the school picks one kid for the month to receive it and they get a certificate, a special pencil, and their picture taped up until the next WOW awards come out. It doesn't sound like much but they get them in a school assembly which apparently gives a big bang for its buck. Just to give you an idea, my girls have come home with WOW awards that say "For always being on task and a good example to everyone," and "Broke the school record for passing off the 12th grade reading level." Crash's says, "Has made a complete turn around in his behavior, social, and organizational skills. He is a brilliant thinker, amazing scientist, entertaining writer, and fun person to be around." What do I say in all my 9th month of pregnancy crankiness--I MEAN--sassiness? "So basically it says you really used to have crappy skills but now you're doing better?" Luckily, the kids ...

Monkey : Drew all over a card and then had someone draw a car on it, too. He's very proud of "his" car drawing. Butterfly : "Shoot for the moon even it you'll eand among the stars!" (That's what it really says). Plus, "The voilin's to you! The drums are to you!" (Trying to give away her siblings' instruments). She signed her siblings' names to the card, too. And wrote "I heart U. Happy Birthday. You are pretty." I am really enjoying the violin and drums. She also drew me a beautiful card with the both of us on it. AND also made another card that opens "like my laptop" where she's drawn my keyboard and screen in case the lappy and I are ever separated. Crash : Hi Mom! Happy birthday! You can try out all these FREE for only 5.00 (ha-ha) here are your airplanes. He stapled four miniature paper airplanes to the card with the following notes: This is your average F-14 Behold the 5-9 Korian Katana 8 B1-97 P.S. You...

Me (to a friend): I don't like cantaloupe--I'm not really a melon person. Crash (interrupting): WHAT!? A cantaloupe isn't a melon (laughing hysterically). Me: Uh…what is it then? Crash (speaking like I am the dumbest mother on earth): An animal!? Hello… Me (trying to keep friend and Princess from laughing): Really. What does a cantaloupe look like? Crash: It’s like a cross between a camel and a kangaroo. He is dead serious. Me: Um, do you mean an antelope? Crash: Pfff, NO! Me: A jackalope? Crash: A CANTaloupe. A CANTaloupe! Me: Okay, so uh, does it have a hump like a camel? Crash: No. Me: Does it have a tail like a kangaroo? Does it jump? Crash: No. Me: So what parts are like a camel? Crash: The face and the legs. Me: What parts are like a kangaroo? Crash: The sleek lean body. I am laughing hysterically at this point. Me: Where does it live? Crash: Either a barren wasteland or the jungle. Me ( Looking up "cantaloupe" on Wikipedia …source of all knowledge): Crash, ...

Butterfly says: The biggest shadow on earth is "night."

Crash ended his prayer this morning with "...and please bless that Monkey won't be evil today." Husband put forth the theory afterward that "there are limits to miracles the Lord can perform." _____________ Later that day it was determined that Monkey had been much more agreeable and happy than usual. Just FYI. Thanks, Lord.

...at least in cooperation with Husband. He has several rules: No last names--like Taylor or Hunter or Harrison. No place names--like Dakota or Berkeley or India. No natural names--like Sage or Misty or Ginger. No names that rhyme with anything or remotely sound like anything else. So with this baby, here's the extent of our cooperating. Me: "How about Ellery?" Husband: "Rhymes with Celery." Me: "Embry?" Husband: "Embryo." Me: "I like Emery." Husband: "It's a nail file." Me: "What about Chloe?" Husband after a long pause wherein I KNOW he's trying to rhyme it with things starting with all 26 letters of the alphabet: "I kinda like Chloe." So there you are. Most of our kids' names are decided in the hospital. Is it my fault someone called Jared "Jarhead" when he was little? Whoever it was has ruined the naming of all my children forever. Thanks a lot!

If you take three left turns, you are going right. I remember all the dreams I've had. I stick them in this special box. In my head. Wouldn't it be funny if the world was so small when you looked forward you could only see the back of your head?

Today, after I volunteered in one my kids' classes, I decided to say a quick hello to my other two children at the school. This was in part because I love them and in part because they are having fantasies that they are terribly abused and are telling the home teachers about this in my presence in order to embarrass me (I think). I am trying to make them feel guilty about this stunt by all my niceness. Because really, if you're not a child abuser and you say you're not--who's going to believe you? I could KILL them!! (Hah, just kidding!!!!) Anyway, by the time I got to the last kid it was getting late--I almost didn't go but finally raced over and peeked in the window of his classroom. They were in the middle of math. At least twenty pairs of eyes were glued to the teacher, but Crash's eyes were glued everywhere else. He was front and center, squirming on his desk, around his desk, nearly under his desk and perhaps had just crawled out of his desk. I wondered i...

A post-it note stuck to a Scholastic Book order and placed carefully on my bed: Dear Mom, Since I know it might be 1:00 am by the time you finish watching LOST, I wanted to tell you why I wanted Inkheart (and yes I know I already have a copy). Reason #1: It is a book, not a remote control light switch [Ginger's note: a remote controlled light switch is also mentioned in the catalog, which she knew I wouldn't buy for her.] #2: Have you seen my old copy? It's torn to shreds. #3: The cover is way cool. #4: I was thinking about buying it at Borders but it would cost me $20.00. This copy only costs $5. I hope you see my reasoning. Sincerely, Princess P.S. If you don't buy it, my old copy will fall apart then you'll need to get a new one for $20.00.

Yeah, so just this morning I was blissfully admiring my amazingly bright children while organizing their cupboards, wiping off their counters, cooking their dinner, falling in the Wal-mart parking lot buying presents for their friends (Wal-mart and I have a hate-hate relationship--unfortunately we're stuck together). But it was all worth it! Because they (my children) were Turning Out . They were blooming. They were nearly BRAG WORTHY. And I really hate bragging. I even wrote that last braggy blog in all my "their blooming" bliss. And I didn't even mention how Butterfly has won the best behavior award in her class for two months running. How she got the coveted WOW award at school and is still floating around on cloud 9 about it. How she's better at being social than Oprah Winfrey (once she got over that meowing thing). Nor did I mention an email I got from Crash's teacher yesterday (you know, the "Can we please stick a shocking dog collar on him s...

There was a time when I knew everything that Princess knew and I knew where she'd learned it--generally from me. Or Elmo. Suddenly, here she is playing violin and I'll say, "Wow, that was great." "Oh yeah? I wrote it," she often replies. I wasn't even sure I believed her until I found her musical writings--scraps of paper with music staffs written on them covered with notes. "What's this?" I asked. "Oh, we can't figure out a good intro to Silent Night in Orchestra so I'm writing one." And then there was the whole orchestra and the teacher announcing that Princess had written the intro. And it was a very impressive one, too. She definitely didn't get that from me or Elmo. Then she came home the other night. "I'm in the Geography Bee," she said. This is even scarier than the music because if there is a disability for Geography, I have it. Especially on the local level. As in, "Where is my ...

Not my pregnant pain, not my hang-nail-chapped-lip pain or even the weird girl pain I get when not following the strictest diet known to man... but Amazon.com PERFECTLY understands my "Child's Astrophysics" pain. Last night a friend of mine asked if I'd ever considered writing a child's guide to astrophysics. This is because I pester him constantly about things like black holes, infrared light and the special theory of relativity on behalf of Crash (my nine year old). I think my friend is trying to get me to do my own research. Anyway, I figured maybe there were already twenty or so such guides and wondered why I hadn't thought of that. I searched Amazon's books for "Child's Astrophysics" and came up with nothing relevant for my boy's search for meaning. But still, they understand my pain. Here are some of the titles that popped up: Helping Your Unique Child Thrive in a Cookie-Cutter World An Adult's Guide to What's ...