Hunger Games

A little less than a year ago, our kids discovered a computer game named "Minecraft". Really, I don't find the appeal of it, but then again, I haven't found the appeal of a video game since the Atari was popular. That being the case, you would think Minecraft would appeal to me since the graphics look like an antiquated game of virtual blocks or Legos.

Evidently, I'm missing something very important about this game of creating virtual worlds because my kids are, for lack of a better word, obsessed. Obsessed in so much, that they will play or watch each other build worlds for hours and would wither away to nothingness if I did not remind them to eat.

With four equally obsessed children and only two computers you can imagine the fuss over whose turn it is to play. We have had quite the war of words and knock down drag outs over this little virtual playground. It infuriates me to no end, especially, when it gets down to tooth and nail.

 Literally.

That red mark on Dallin's upper arm? That, is a bite mark from his brother, Ben. And yes, it was done in a fit of rage over a dumb video game. How completely insane is that?

At first, I thought I had forgotten to remind them to eat and they were turning into cannibals! But, upon my question laden scolding, Ben's defense was that he has "anger issues".

I promptly told Ben that until he resolved those "issues", he could consider himself and his little button pushing fingers grounded. And, he was for an entire week. Dallin was also grounded for his part in provoking the bite, so we had one week free from fighting to the death over Minecraft. One simply wonderful week.

Maybe I should consider letting them starve more often. ;)

What Do You Find...

What do you find underneath all of this?

You've found treasure in this handsome young man I am proud to call my son.

 Even though, he refuses to obey when we tell him to quit growing and is now an inch or so taller than me.

*sigh*

Teenagers....they never listen.

My Best Christmas Present Ever

I was asked to speak in church this past Sunday. I may as well been told the end of the world was near. You see, I don't particularly like to talk in church, but I do it anyway. Kind of a type of self torture, I guess. But I told this story in my talk and decided that it would make a good blog post. And since I haven't written a whole lot lately I figured I would post what I have written. So to those of you who didn't have to hear me in person, you get to read it minus my shaky chipmunk voice and trembling hands. And to those of you who suffered through it already, I'm sorry and God bless you.

When I was growing up our family had a paper route which had to be completed every day, even on Christmas. I should say especially on Christmas, as the papers were very large due to the fact that they were stuffed with the ads for the sales to occur the following day. 

The massive amounts of ads caused the paper to be delivered in two parts requiring us to assemble the paper before trying to stretch a wimpy rubber band around the massive girth of those Christmas papers. Needless to say, many a rubber band broke making the delivery process even more tedious and lengthy. 

 Oh, how I loathed delivering those papers on Christmas morning.

It wasn’t just the process of getting the papers delivered, but the fact that we couldn’t open any packages or see any of our Christmas until all of the papers were done. The time came that the paper route became my responsibility after being passed down through all of my brothers and after 6 years of helping, I would be delivering the Christmas morning papers alone. 

I dreaded the very thought.

Christmas morning came and I could hear my parents upstairs rustling around and I knew that soon they would be coming for me. So true to the lazy teenager that I was, I pulled my covers up closer around me, clinging to the warmth and comfort that my bed offered and quickly drifted back to sleep. 

When I woke up some time later, knowing that my parents usually woke us around 6:00, I put off looking at the clock not wanting know the minutes left before the impending doom would occur. And that’s when it dawned on me that the light beyond my closed eyelids was a little too bright for 6am. I stole an glance at the clock- it was 9:06! The papers were late!

I rushed upstairs questioning my mom along the way. 

“Where are the papers? How come you didn’t get me up sooner?”  

My mother just smiled and said, “Merry Christmas! We got you a sub.”

Over the years, I have been asked about the best present I have ever received and to this day it remains the time my parents arranged a sub on Christmas morning for my paper route. This gift was nothing concrete that I could hold in my hands and only lasted the length of a morning, but the feeling and sentiment behind what others hands had done for me that morning has stuck with me for the last 20 years.

Back From Black

It has taken me over a month to get this post written due to computer complications (who knew a little light bulb could cause such a ruckus) and it isn't even what I really wanted to convey to you. But honestly, those feelings are hard for me to put into words. By the time you get to the end of it, I hope you understand and forgive me.

If the whole wedding reception tradition hadn't been so formal when I got married, I would have had two Bridesmen along with my Bridesmaids standing in the reception line. One of them would have been this guy, my friend, Digger.

Obviously, Digger is not his real name, but it is what he has gone by as long as I have known him and he still answers to it today. He is one of my best friends from high school who let me drag him to early morning Seminary Morningsides and kept Mr. Trimble's Spanish class, down right bearable. He could make me smile on the worst of days and took me to Senior Cotillion, when my R.M. boyfriend (Richard) had no interest in attending a high school dance. Although, I know Digger would have rather taken the girl that is now his wife.

But that life seems like a hundred lifetimes ago before we traded in the responsibilities and fun of high school for those of grown ups with families of our own.

Over the last three months, as I have gotten my children settled in to a new school year, Digger has watched as doctors at PCMC settled his little girl, Gracie, into a medically induced coma. As I have shuttled my kids to and from basketball, football, and other lessons, he has watched as Gracie has been shuttled to and from the operating room for various procedures to stop or slow down the seizures that have taken hold of  her little 9 year old body. Over the last month, as I woke my children to each new day Digger and his wife, Mindy, have wondered if this would be the day they saw their daughters eyes again as the doctors brought her slowly out of the coma.

Sometimes life seems really unfair.

I want to tell you Digger and Gracie's story because of a video I saw the other day. It was delivered to our inbox from a radio talk show host that we regularly receive mass emails from. It was a video where a toddler, about the age of two, is hit by a delivery van in a Chinese marketplace and how many minutes elapse before anyone helps the crying baby. It was honestly, the most horrific thing I have ever seen. The horrifying part not being seeing that child cry out in pain, but to watch 18 different people walk or drive by, obviously notice the child and not do ANYTHING! I didn't, because I couldn't, watch the whole thing.

The talk show's host intent on sharing the video was to show what living in a communistic country, under heavy rule by the government in all aspects of their lives, does to the charitable and basic humanity of its inhabitants.

 I guess he got his point across because I started to think about Digger's little Gracie, her situation and how the people of the communities in Utah (and I'm sure other places as well) have handled it. Here is a little girl and her family who have spent over 100 days in Primary Children's in the fight of their lives, just like the toddler laying in the street. This fight has taken a heavy toll on their family- both emotionally and financially. Instead of walking by and hoping that the next guy will do something many people, some that know Gracie and even more that don't, have stopped to give aid to a girl and her family in need.

People have organized and carried out a 5K and carnival with enough participants to catch the media's eye. Neighborhoods have held yard and bake sales. Friends and family have participated in special fasts. Restaurants have held dinners in Gracie's honor and donated the profits. Accounts have been set up where annoymous donations can be made. It has blown me away to see how people have stepped up and poured out all kinds of charity simply because of the goodness of their hearts.

This is the world I am thankful to live in.

A world where, thanks in part to those friends and strangers who have not only supported Gracie financially, but also with positive thoughts and prayers, she opened her eyes after 11 weeks in a coma on 11/11/11. And now a month later, she has been moved out of the ICU to a Neuro Unit and is making miraculous strides in her rehab and recovery.

Isn't it amazing what a little compassion, coupled with hope and prayer can do? It saddens my heart to think of children living in worlds where compassion is crushed by the fear of  "getting involved" and hope and prayer are nonexistent in a God-less society. Now I know the video is not indicative of all Chinese people as a whole, so here is my hope and my prayer that the baby laying in the street was afforded a miracle, just like Gracie .

Kid-isms

*The pictures in this post are courtesy of my old laptop and my very first digital camera- which by the way, leaves a lot to be desired, since my good laptop and all recent pictures that have been captured are in the shop. Again.*


Dallin Said...

"I don't like this closet...it's weird. It stares at me."

The Sunday morning before the Primary Program Presentation- "I have my faith filled boxers on, so I'm going to be just fine."

"I don't think it's cold enough to get ammonia yet..."

"My bladder's gettin' ANGRY!"

Boxer Boy?

"Mom, you know what? Cleats are like high heels."

"If Orcs come to the U.S. I'm gonna join the Army with my cross bow and take those suckas out!"

"Mom, we should get an emergency kit in the car."
"That's a good idea, Dallin."
"Yeah, we should put things in it we might need like bottled water, food, deodorant, blankets, flashlights...."

Look at those brown eyed boys loving their new sister who would end up with their same beautiful color of eyes.

Dallin's comment after the large mirror that hung in our living room was broken recently and taken down- "Mom, I miss that mirror because now I can't just sit and look at myself..."

Ben-isms


To Richard while he's handing out foreign money to the kids for their collections after returning from a business trip to the Philippines, with stops in Tokyo & Hong Kong- "Come on! That's only ten cents in Japateens."

"You know what kind of meat is my favorite? That kind of chewy, Chinese meat, that almost chokes me. It is soooo good."

What real happy nappers look like.

"Dad, do you get money for your job?"
"Well, yeah."
"Oh. I thought you just got hotel points."

Ben appears in the kitchen dressed in nothing else but his underwear. With his chest puffed out and his hands planted firmly on each hip he declares- "I'm underwear boy and I feel POWERFUL!"

Ben- "Let me be the baby."

Ben turns to me after about 10 minutes of nice Saturday morning cuddling and says, "I love to cuddle with you, Mom. Especially since you don't seem to mind I keep farting on you."

And one for all of the Parke family who read my blog-
"Dallin's going to be on the weird side of the family....like Uncle Jim."

A joint effort by Dallin & Ben at writing lyrics for a song-
When you're sitting on the john 
and all the paper's gone,
be a man......use your hand. 

Perfection at rest. 

And last of all, how do you know when you use coupons maybe a little too much? When you are driving home from a shopping trip at Wal-Mart where you bought some Halloween decor along with your normal groceries and your 4 year old asks, \
"Mom, did you have a coupon for that Halloween stuff?"
"No."
"Then why did we buy it?!"

I Byte

All of my trouble started with a virus that hijacked my laptop and held it hostage for 3 days. Fortunately, it wasn't anything that a simple system restore couldn't handle....or so I thought. Because of a series of events in the last 3 months, I think that virus didn't only invade my laptop, but myself as well. You see, at my house we have a new solution if ever anything that runs by electrical current won't work or isn't working correctly, and it goes something like this, "Did Mom touch it?" If the answer is "Yes" then you have your solution. It is either broken for good or broken badly enough that it will cost you a significant amount of money to make it ever work again.

Apparently, I have the touch of death for any and all electronics. Take a look at my list of casualties:

-Laptop fan
-Left front turn signal
-New cell phone
-Left rear turn signal
-Van automatic door latch on passenger side
-A crashed hard drive... for which I weep. Nothing was recoverable. In the technicians words "it is fried". A company in California tells me that they have a clean room where they can open it up, take the platforms out and retrieve the information for $755 for jpeg files and up to $2800 for any other files. (Sniff, sniff.) And yes, it had to die the day I had the external hard drive out ready to back up files.
So the lesson learned through this ordeal is for all of you procrastinators (like me) out there, I suggest you take the route I did and shell out $59/year to Carbonite. $59 beats $2800 any day and the best part is that I don't even have to think about it.
-Van door signal. Try driving around for 3 days with that constant "ping, ping, ping" ringing throughout the confined space of a car- I about drove up the road to the State Hospital and committed myself.
-Playroom DVD player.
-The replacement DVD player for the previous playroom DVD player.
-E-reader
-Van radio
-Refridgerator ice maker. It is amazing what a misplaced plastic bag can do. Just trust me on this one.
-Richard's ipod touch
-One of our phone handsets
-And this weeks victim, my good lap top's screen.

I wish I knew what a system restore for me would entail. I'm sure it involves an exotic location, lots of down time, and large quantities of delicious foods, so in other words, it's out of the question. But seriously, this is getting to be ridiculous, not to mention expensive, and I'm running out of ideas to cope with my new condition.

 Do you think the Amish would take me?


PS- I am not liable for anything that may happen to any electronic devices used in the commenting on this post. Please, comment at your own risk. ;)

Scout Camp

Last week, Ashton went to Camp Tifie to attend Scout Camp for the first time. Like a good mama, I helped him pack a change of clothes and underwear for each day, a towel, wash cloth and soap, various treats and snacks, and $30 in cash for items he needed from the Trading Post. Would you like to guess what came back virtually untouched after being gone for six days of camping?

I'll give you a hint- it wasn't the the cash or the snacks.

FYI- Boys are gross.

I love this photo of the Menagerie. All personalities on display.