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By Suzanne, on July 5th, 2011
We have so many people in our household that when the kids try to make Sims of us, the game maxes out without including everyone. It's a party! We have more to do to have everything all arranged but every day we get more done. (Who am I kidding, Ryan gets most of it done while I'm at work. He's amazing.)
I'm cooking this week.
- Italian Turkey Stir Fry, serve over spaghetti squash and add a big green salad
- Quick and Easy Salisbury Steaks, with steamed broccoli and potatoes
- Cheery Cherry Chicken Salad, add lemony sliced cucumber
- Grilled Fish with Tomato Dill Relish, with stir-fried garlicky spinach and steamed green and yellow beans
- Mamma's Schnitzel, add a big bowl of broccoli slaw
- Crock Cooker Chicken Provencal, with steamed asparagus and a big green salad
I get all this goodness from Saving Dinner. I'm not affiliated, I just have been enjoying Menu Mailer goodness off and on for years.
I read the menu and recipes out loud to Ryan and had to remind him to breathe. He is essited.
I'm essited too. Life is good.
By Suzanne, on July 3rd, 2011
Sometimes I wish that I had infinite energy so I could execute my infinite ideas. There are so many, what am I going to do with all these ideas? If I didn't get tired or didn't need to sleep or eat or bathe, oh just think what I could do.
But I kind of like sleeping and eating is one of life's great pleasures and even soaking in a tub is a kind of lovely.
Will I get multiple lives to execute all these ideas? Or does this one life contain multiple lives within it, with phases and seasons inside it? Or is it both?
Though actually sometimes I just like sitting next to someone I love and feeling the earth move and watching the clouds float by, and not worry about a to-do list or a project I want to accomplish. That's pretty good too, and then I think, maybe I don't need to do everything. Is that age coming on me? Maybe it would be okay to just relax and enjoy life as it rolls around and not have to constantly push things through life.
The kids are going to be here on Monday afternoon for the whole summer, and then they are going to start school here and live with me most of the time. I am so excited about this. I need my kids near me, more often, and under my roof. I think they need me too. I have plans, big plans. I am streamlining everything I do for work as fast as I can so that I can accomplish everything I do there (or more!) in less time, so that I can keep a consistent schedule and when I am home I am home.
I'm going to start doing Menu Mailer again. I want to take them on excursions and field trips, and do projects and all that. I feel my life settling back from the uproar it has been in for the last several years as Ryan and I move furniture around, rearrange the entire house, and get everything ready for them to be here for reals, not just sometimes.
I share 50/50 custody with their dad and they have been living with him for the last year and I have been the after-school support, including having Hazel starting at 11 am when kindergarten got out, and driving carpool for Sam every day, and then being with the kids until their dad got home. They came and stayed with me when they were off track (usually 3 weeks at a time every 6 weeks) and also tons of weekends. But this will be different. They will be Living with me! Even with seeing my kids as much as I have, I have felt very out-of-place this last year as I worked this arrangement.
Of course all my friends tell me that 3 days into this I'll be over it. I do know that will be true. But I also know that this is how things should be. It just is!
Yesterday we went to my storage unit, pulled half the stuff out, got out (some of) what we needed. This included me digging through countless boxes I vaguely labeled as “BEDDING.” I vowed to label future storage more specifically, but then double-vowed to not NEED to do this kind of storage ever again. Thank heavens I did find the floral sheets I bought for my girls when I was expecting Hazel, and all the down and down-alternative comforters, and even Henry's Star Wars bedsheets. We went to Macy's and then RCWilley to find a mattress for his mom that will fit her new room, and then we went to the RCWilley warehouse to pick it up.
I also got a dish scrubber that looks like a flower. The one at Macy's doesn't have a stand, but it does match our kitchen. It turns out this company makes all kinds of cool things, including a giraffe toilet brush, a dustpan and broom that looks like a peacock, and a duster that looks like a skunk. This is just the beginning – and I find myself wanting all of these things, what a great idea, omg! so I just carefully close the browser window and calm myself down. (But OMG THERE IS AN ICE CREAM SCOOP THAT LOOKS LIKE A WHALE!!!!11!)
Also at Macy's I got Henry a pillow top for his mattress and a mattress pad that will fit over the pillow top. He confided to me that while he wanted very much to live with me, he found his bed kind of hard and uncomfortable. Henry almost never asks me for anything so when he does make a request or a comment like this, I jump to give him what he needs. All my other kids spend every moment peppering me with requests and demands, and he never does, so when he does want something, I really do make it happen. (There's a lesson here, maybe?)
We are all rearranging and squishing in and organizing. It's all very democratic, really. Ryan has been working so hard on all of this, and he is amazing at execution and heavy lifting. So far we have reorganized the kitchen, including adding in a silverware drawer of my silverware all in the same pattern (ahhh bliss!!!)
And I got more Fiestaware to match what I already had. We have Scarlet, Tangerine, Sunflower, Turquoise & Peacock. We are almost out of room in the cupboard but I still want Lemongrass. I'll have that desire percolate in the back of my head long enough that someday I'll half-wake in the middle of the night and order it with my Amazon 1-click and forget about it until the UPS man brings us a prize.
I haven't been excited about dishes in years. But I am actually excited about these. They are so pretty in the sink, and in the dishwasher and dish drain, on the table, in the cupboard. These plus real silverware have made me sooooo happy. I feel like I'm finally in my kitchen, and it feels so good.
I didn't work on my business at all today – not one teeny tiny bit (okay I peeked at one forum for ½ second), and it felt fantastic! I have a goal to really take weekends off, not just half-way take weekends off.
We went to Target and got some clothes and bedding & other random things we needed and then went major grocery shopping. When we came home I detailed the refrigerator (now I need to do this to my car!), Ryan and I washed all the dirty dishes, Ryan put Henry's bed together and we made his bed for him (with the mattress topper it looks like a big Star Wars covered marshmallow, and we even managed to make and eat homemade hummus, and sat outside to eat it until the heat got the better of is.
Now the day is over, and in writing this entry I realize maybe just regular life is going to be enough to keep me busy and I don't need to worry too much about turning every single possibly-awesome-but-an-entire-job-all-by-itself idea into reality. I'm going to have plenty to do as it is, and it's the best project of all.
By Suzanne, on July 3rd, 2011
I dreamt I had been given a walking stick carved with talismans and writings and images as an important and powerful gift to be with me for the rest of my life. Later, I was stopped by someone who knew what it who said, “Do you know what this is? Do you know what you have?”
I knew perfectly well everything it was, but I said, “No, what? Please tell me what this means,” wanting to know if they would tell me anything new. The old stranger went over the whole object, describing many of the writings, symbols and markings, sometimes correctly, sometimes not. I listened patiently, realizing that I know all along what the gifts I've been given mean more than anyone else does.
However, then he said, “You should know is that while this gift will help you focus and direct your power, if you progress in your life with it, your energy and abilities will become entwined with it and you will later not be as strong without it as you would otherwise be without it.”
I imagined myself in a scenario where someone had removed it from me and then I was vulnerable, more vulnerable than I would have been had I developed in my abilities without the gift to aid me.
I puzzled over this dilemma until I woke up. Do I accept a gift and integrate it with my life, knowing that while using the gift would make me stronger, it also meant that if I was separated from it, I would be weaker? In storytelling structure, the hero receives gifts from people he meets along the way. These gifts always help the hero later, and become key parts of the story and help the hero overcome future obstacles. The gifts don't have to come from friendly characters either, sometimes you receive gifts from people who were not very nice at all. Have you ever had a really bad experience in your life that taught you a valuable lesson? Not keeping the magic staff would be like having the bad experience and then not learning the lesson.
In real life no one can take our gifts away from us if we use them. And they are useless if they are not used. It's pointless to wonder if we should try to progress without the gift of an experience. The answer is we must keep and use them, that is the whole objective.
At this point in my post-sleep haze Ryan came in and brought me a big Wonder Woman mug of coffee, and knowing that this would certainly assist me through my morning, I accepted his gift.
 Lasso of Truth, Mug of Caffeine
By Suzanne, on June 30th, 2011
I don't know what has happened to me. Sam had a meltdown a few days ago, and part of his tearful undoing was the fact that he really wanted to see and hold a snake, and soon. I thought it was weird, I'll admit, until I realized it was kind of how I feel about having a bath, that it takes the static away and makes me feel all whole and reborn and all that, and who am I to judge, and please just calm down, son.
I don't feel that way about snakes myself, but I do know that near my favorite and the best coffee shop in the state The Coffee Club there is a pet store called Mark's Ark: Utah's Most Exciting Pet Store. If anyone would have snakes, they would!
I told Sam I'd take him there and if nothing else we could act like we were going to buy a snake and they would let him touch one. With that promise, I took him to work with me Monday, and we ran out of time to go, Tuesday, and he had to spend the night at his dad's house for a scout physical, and today I picked him up from his dad's house, and he made sure to remind me I said we would go to the pet store. The kid has been to work with me every day so far this week, which isn't exactly super exciting for a summer vacation, but luckily he is easygoing enough this isn't the worst thing in the world.
Even though I forgot my breakfast AND lunch on my way out the door and spent my day alternating between tearfulness, stomach pain and extreme irritability due to acute hunger, on our way home from the office we stopped at the much-promised Mark's Ark.
We were not disappointed. All the parking spots close to the door were taken, which is amazing anymore for a specialty brick & mortar store, and inside was full of customers and animals – lots and lots of animals. Ark is a good name for it, and I'm pretty sure they have more exotic reptiles than the zoo.
I texted this photo to Sam's dad, with the note, “I'm at the pet store with Sam looking at a new pet snake. I'll be delivering this guy to your house today.” Yes, I think I am so funny.
 Yellow Burmese Python. It probably won't eat your baby. Actually we want this little guy. He's a newborn corn snake! He's teeny!
 Look, he tied himself into a little knot! The guy got him out and let Sam hold him! I can't believe this but I actually think he is cute. (This is the pet store guy, not Sam, holding the snake in the photo.)
 Awww, isn't he cute? (Awww, have I lost my mind? And this is how big he'll get as an adult.
 Adult Corn Snake - eats adult mice, not adult gazelles. They eat mice, and to start he'll need to eat newborn baby mice. Honestly, I don't hate mice. I think they are cute and smart and rats too, and they make good pets themselves, but once my house got infested by mice and at first I thought eh, what's a mouse in the pantry. It told all its friends about my hospitality, and they had a big frat/sex party, and started making tons o' babies, which was a little too much for me because I am no fun that way, so then because I am a hippie I bought humane traps.
The mice invited more friends to come laugh at my humane traps, and then they ruined my entire food storage, started cavorting in my kitchen cupboards at night and then infested my children's dressers. All my food was ruined, they left droppings everywhere and my house smelled like mouse piss. By this point I had tried every trap in the store, every bait I'd been recommended, and called an exterminator and told him to get rid of the little vermin, whatever it took.
So while I don't necessarily hate mice, I don't exactly love them, and I categorize them in the same emotional place I categorize, say, a grasshopper. I don't go out of my way to kill them but I really don't care if a snake eats one.
They also had every other kind of animal, including bunnies, which Hazel cooed over, and I said, “Oh, no touchies!” A store employee was standing there and took a barrier down and said, “Actually you can pet the bunnies. This is a fun pet store!” And walking around, there was a random cat on the floor too. I love this place.
 Meow! I will admit, if we had Sam's new room all completely set up I would have bought the snake and the snake-aquarium kit on the spot and taken them both home. It probably would be a good idea because you're not supposed to handle them for 4-5 days after you get them home and Sam is going back to his dad's this weekend for 4th of July festivities, so he won't be tempted to handle it. I didn't know that in the moment though. Maybe I'll get him tomorrow.
We came home and I finally ate some food, and still felt sick and dizzy and laid down and took a nap. Naps are scarce and I appreciate them sooooo much!
I did more research on corn snakes, especially newborn ones, as pets, and the more I read about snakes the more I like them. I guess I relate. They need something to keep them warm, and they will coil around it, and if it's too hot they will still coil around it and burn themselves. I remember our last night at Burning Man I was cold and wanted to walk into the fire and Ryan wouldn't let me. I need to stay warm too, and in the winter I have a heated mattress pad which I will crank all the way to high and let the heating elements burn my skin and bones and revel in how very good it feels. Mmm…warm.
On the way home, Sam explained to Hazel what a reptile was, (a kind of animal that cannot self-regulate its body temperature and has scales; birds are also a kind of reptile and have scales on their feet, and lay eggs and do not give their babies the nursies [though then Sam informed me that some reptiles give live birth]), and then we talked about the platypus, which is not actually a specialized mammal, but rather a primitive mammal that lays eggs and has nursies. And then I wondered, what am I because I gave live birth, fed my babies the nursies, and cannot regulate my body temperature. Sam and Hazel thought this was pretty funny, though when I'm freezing I don't think it's funny at all, but I see their point.
I'm a little under the weather today, and not just from my Day Without Food, but I'm thinking it's nothing a hot rock and somewhere to hide won't cure. I think this snake and I will get along just fine.
By Suzanne, on June 28th, 2011
Oh my. My 14-year-old is taller than me now, I am pretty sure. He says he is 5'8” but I think it's more now, and my 11-year-old daughter wore me down to get her some summer clothes (I wanted to wait until she was permanently at my house for the summer), so we spent the afternoon at Target where I had to take her out of the girls department and into the women's/juniors section.
She cried in the dressing room because she couldn't button the jeans and I had to go get a bigger size. She cried because she towers over her friends. She cried because she wants to go back to the girls department. You can't go back though. That's the thing.
She is tired of being tall, and she's just getting started. I told her someday she would look awesome and all her teeny tiny friends will be fat and spend all their time talking about how tiny they used to be. It's cold comfort for an 11-year-old but it seemed to help a little.
I asked her if she wanted more camis or if she wanted a bra, because she needs a bra, and she said, “No more camis!” But neither of us wanted to tackle the bra issue today. Even I am a little overwhelmed at this, honestly. I don't want to humiliate her but I'm not sure what size she needs and well, I may need to take her to the nice old lady at JCPennys who is a bra-fitting expert so it's not me but it's a nice old lady.
I did give her the bra lecture. (Always wear a bra. Always. If you are sleeping wear a supportive cami or a sports bra. Trust me. Always.) Don't argue with me, I know what I am talking about. She'll thank me some day. She seemed to listen, so maybe she won't be humiliated by the whole thing after all. I'll deal with that another day.
She did tell me that only some of my clothes was she willing to wear (okay, thanks?) but she was planning on stealing ALL my shoes. The worst part is, last time I checked she was only half a shoe size smaller than me. I don't think so, young lady.
Then she told me she had no money to help me buy any of this, and then sneaked in line behind me and bought herself candy. I guess she's not completely grown up. Thank heavens.
I can't believe people ask me if I am going to have more babies. I have my hands full with the ones I've got.
By Suzanne, on June 28th, 2011
I spent more time today poking here and there in my old LiveJournal, which I started in 2003, and wrote in, religiously sometimes up to 7 times per day until 2009 with titles like, “If I could wear my iPod in the tub, I'd be in heaven,” “I wish I could spread my happy chemicals to all of you,” "My life is dull but I don't care because I'm going to sleep soon," & "If you see latex balloons and piles of sticks in the yard, you'll know he already started," and the periodic girls-only posts where I discussed things like lingere, sex, birth control, periods, my feelings about my body and found a (mostly) safe place to talk about my struggles with my marriage.
But there was more to my journal. I took pictures of the everyday. I marveled in the growing-up of my children. I shared my pregnancy with my readers, detailing belly pictures (that I took myself in my kitchen mirror), confided frustrations, and published my lists of to-dos I'd create for myself to achieve all of my ambitious goals. I made friends, lifelong friends. I let myself hang out, faults and all, and found myself accepted anyway.
In skimming just through some of 2004, I was struck by how all these entries seemed to serve as a safety valve for everything inside me. I keenly feel the lack of such a valve. Later I started a business, experienced several life-changing events in a row, and knew instinctively to pull inside. The internet loves a good story but it is not always understanding of you while you are in the middle of a good story. You aren't allowed to make mistakes, struggle, or change. At least I felt that way. I didn't want the world to pop popcorn and watch my life explode. Maybe I was a train wreck but I knew enough to not let anyone watch, even if my ratings would have been stellar. In the course of my business, I also found out that not everyone on the internet was a nice person, and they would use any vulnerability or personal angle I shared against me.
Then over a year ago, I found myself in my parents' kitchen, doing spreadsheets with my dad, reevaluating and redesigning every aspect of our business plan. I needed to focus and I needed to concentrate, and I needed to not whine about it on the internet.
So I quit writing.
The last year of my life has been just nonstop work. I have been working pretty much in almost all my spare time. I am amazed I have any friends at all, honestly. I still am constantly having to turn down social events, skip parties due to work exhaustion, decline invitations, because my life is work. When I am not working I am with my children or Ryan.
All that work paid off. My business is in a good place. All businesses are tricky endeavors, and mine is no different, but we have found some kind of even keel, and while we are constantly tweaking the plan, we have things humming and running in a way that seems to be working. I could not have done it without the help of my dad or the people who I work with, but if I hadn't dragged my ass to work at 6 a.m. for months and months, and worked 12, 14, 18 hour days for months, it wouldn't have mattered how much peripheral support I had — we would not have succeeded. I am proud of myself, and I am proud of everyone who works with and for me. So now I am finding myself very pent up with all the words. I've always had a lot of them, and in my LiveJournal I found a place to put them.
I miss writing. I miss letting the energy inside me out in a creative and productive way. I have all these dumb thinky thoughts and I like writing them down. I miss it. I'm coming back. I don't know what this means, really, because I still know that dropping privacy means making myself vulnerable. But maybe no one cares and I can just write to the ether. I miss that too.
But if you are here, I welcome you as well.
Now I need to find my wordpress password.
By Suzanne, on September 8th, 2010
My desire to write, all the words I have inside me, all my thinky thoughts, big and small — they want to come out. But they are at war with my desire for privacy, and lately I have really enjoyed my privacy. Never take it for granted. It's a beautiful thing.
That being said, maybe it's time to write again. But how do you juggle that need for privacy with the desire to WRITE?
By Suzanne, on June 17th, 2010
I have sick kids. Henry has been coughing all morning, Olivia says it hurts to talk. I believe her because while I am Not Sick, it hurts me to talk/swallow/breathe too. I don't Get Sick. It's not allowed.
Yes, we're still going to the office because we might as well get something done while we they are sick. Plus my to-do list won't allow it. I would show it to you but then I'd have to rewrite it so it didn't look as crazy and I don't have time for that.
(Plus I have this irrational and neurotic belief that I'm the only person who has stuff to do that I have to write on a list. I think I magically think everyone else accomplishes all the tasks of their life without having to make a list, and I don't want ya'll to see the things that I actually have to write down to accomplish. Really!)
Anyway, a few years ago Henry and Hazel had the Chicken Pops. Now those were some sick kids.
 Chicken Pops Mostly I wanted to trot out that photo because it makes me laugh every time.
P.S. Henry's pajamas? I made those. I did stuff like that back in the day.
By Suzanne, on June 14th, 2010
Hazel had a dance dress rehearsal and recital this weekend.
At the dress rehearsal I somehow missed how much life was left on my battery and halfway through the event my camera battery died.
At the recital, as I was deleting non-working photos in an effort to make more room on my flash card, I checked the Format screen to see how much space was left on my card and accidentally reformatted the entire thing.
I didn't realize recovery was possible so after trying not to vomit on everyone's feet, I tried to get something, anything, from the night, which meant I shot over some of my best pictures. We got a few photos back, but none of Hazel on the stage. I did get this:
 Notice her dance hands. By the time it was all over, Hazel was finished with photos but she was not finished with dancing. The rain didn't stop her either. She danced all over the Kearns High School front lawn, parking lot and sidewalk.
I learned three lessons:
1. You can never go wrong with extra batteries and gadget memory.
2. Four bobby pins is not enough to make a bun and pin a hat on a five-year-old. It's possible but not ideal.
3. You can dance anywhere.
By Suzanne, on June 11th, 2010
I usually write posts in the evening when I have these thinky-thoughts and am feeling a theme to Mah Life, but since it's morning things inside my head are a little more static-y.
This reminds me how a friend told me a comedian decided to keep a notebook of all the first thoughts in his head and record them as he woke.
He ended up with a notebook full of, "I have to pee."
I know there is something to this idea, most famously found in The Artist's Way. I keep meaning to do this program. I should put it on my List. I have these fantasies that I can make a List of things I need to do, and it will also import from my email and chat and voicemail, sort everything out, I set a deadline, and then it syncs backwards with my calendar and tells me the daily tasks I need to do each day to accomplish these things.
Actually I found something like this but it's a bit to set it up, and, well, doing that is on my List.
I have a card full of photos in my camera that I'm dying to share but my hard drive is full. I ordered a new one, but it's not here yet. I thought it would show up on my porch yesterday, but alas, it did not. I can't remember where I shipped it but I'm thinking maybe it will arrive at goodmama headquarters.
If not, I'm going to have to build my own, like my very own robot friend who will hold all my stuff so I can get new work done.
 No means no, Egah! (Image by Mixed Spleens, click for Flickrstream) Actually a hard drive shaped like Tom Servo sounds awesome. I'm sure some hacker has already made one. If you don't know what I'm talking about, you can get your geek up to speed.
I know the internet was dying for more flower photos. I'm sorry world, you'll have to wait a little longer. What else is going on? All kinds of random things. For example (and in no particular order):
1. Ryan did a job for CNN, photographing a guy who works for the state as an executioner. Check it out. Per usual, his work blows my mind.
2. I'm doing a self-propelled project to figure out why 95% of Rush fans are men.
3. Awesome friends who give you the gift of lemur. I know they are all pixels, but I love these. They are just so frivolous, I feel extra loved.
4. Going to work every day with my dad is an adventure. I like it, even if he did behead all the tops of my flower pens.
5. Hazel is full of one-liners. Here's a few from this week:
Going up to her dad, "Did you know my mom is the goodmama?"
Yesterday in the Suburban, "Mom, I think we should go to the car wash because this car is CERTAINLY dirty!"
Playing Sims, "Mommy, a bad man came and took away her potty, so she peed in a bowl on the bathroom floor." Me, "You have to pay your bills sweetie. Go to the mailbox and click, 'Pay Bills.'" Hazel, "Okay, but how do you spell 'Pay Bills'?"
Standing outside the house throwing bread crumbs everywhere, "I can't come in right now. My friends the ants really need food. They are very hungry."
6. My face! My face! I never had acne as a teen. No really! I had perfect skin. Even at age 35 it was great. (Let's not talk about how old that makes me now.) Now it's just a disaster. HELP! Meg tells me to wash with Dove and NO MAKEUP FOR A WEEK. Is she right? I've even been on acne.org trying to find answers.
It's okay. This is why I am behind the camera, not in front of it.
 Amicus means Friend And if you say pre-menopause, you owe me lunch. Or a lemur.
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