FINALly

Don't mistake this for a student.....I promise it's a teacher!

Every time I hear a student complain about finals, I offer to trade straight across -I'll take the final IF they grade all 200. No takers so far. As I look at the weary faces of my students, I imagine they are seeing something similar in my face. Teaching four classes this semester has humbled me. I can't remember a week that I didn't have stacks of papers to grade. It's kinda like cleaning the house - the minute I finish one room, it's time to start on the next. I can't ever get ahead. I've spent so much time sitting around grading that I've gained weight. I'm too tired to exercise. And, I'm so busy most of my meals come from someplace with a drive-through. I think grading is becoming a health hazard!

I give my last finals tomorrow morning. One last stack to grade and I'll be paper-free until September. Sounds like heaven. Some of my students have said, "Come on, you know you'll miss us." I actually will miss some of them. Others I sincerely hope to forget. But, I'll NEVER miss grading papers.

Good-bye red pens
Good-bye blue
Good-bye grade sheets
Good-bye you.

Hello sun and hello beach
Hello nights with extra sleep
Hello days with nothing due
Hello me and good-bye school!

Until Fall........

Happy Birthday Big Guy!

Tomorrow is Mark's birthday. I, for one, am really happy because for four months every year I have to hear him say that I'm older than him - by four months. Finally, we're the same age.

I have to be honest. I've put off doing a post on Mark, mainly because the task is so overwhelming. I've been married to him for 33 years and I'm still trying to figure him out. He's so simple, he's complicated. He's smart, yet does everything he can to hide it. He's selfless and selfish. He's obsessive and reckless. If you look up the word PARADOX in the dictionary you'll see his name.

So here are some things you probably don't know about Mark:

My friend, Shelley, claims that her husband, Tim, is the most oblivious male on the planet. My claim is that Mark is TOOblivious. He notices everything. When I go shopping, I call him when I exit a store to ask if he's found the purchase on the bank account yet. I swear he monitors it 50 times a day. He doesn't do it to control what I spend, it's just one of his obsessions. It's kinda spooky when he calls me the minute I walk in the door to ask about what I just bought at Gymboree. Definitely Big Brother stuff.




Several months ago he shut his thumb in the car door. The results were...uh.....less than lovely. It turned several delightful colors before settling down to black. He was given sympathy of course. Any reasonable person would have accepted that and moved on. Not Mark. Every day for weeks he showed that nasty thing to EVERYONE. And, he made everyone TOUCH it - like a black nail might not feel the same as a non-black nail! On Sundays he would gross out the kids during Sacrament meeting by sticking it in their faces. Eventually, people gave it and simply asked to see it. It's grown out now, except for a funky ridge at the end and he still humors himself by asking others to EXAMINE it. He's gotten some serious mileage out that nail. When this ride is over, he'll probably poke his eye out. Imagine the attention then!





When Mark gets something in his crawl you can forget ever trying to change his mind. This can be a good thing. Some obsessions are beneficial. Mark's latest is food storage. Several weeks ago he decided to take it upon himself to update our storage. Let me preface this by saying that he never does anything in a small way. For example, if you send him out for Chinese he comes back with enough food for a small army. He buys 3 dozen donuts for 6 people. I digress...back to food storage. His most current "pride and joy" is a food storage shelf he bought online. We call it "The Monster". He was like a kid on Christmas morning when it arrived. Immediately, he set out to fill it. He did. But, he didn't stop there. Lest our children be found foodless, he put together smaller shelves of food for each of them. I had to laugh when I noticed yesterday that he's added BOXES of cereal. I'm not so sure about the shelf life of Trix, but, thanks to Mark we'll have a use for all that powdered milk.






Several years ago, after returning from Hawaii, he decided he wanted to turn our backyard into a tropical paradise. When his birthday came around we bought him tiki lights. He's loved those lights. He built little PVC supports for each of them and painted them with water resistant paint. He tenderly fills their little oil containers every Spring. I have to admit that it's fun to light them for our BBQ's in the summer. They actually do add a little tropical flavor, so I can't complain about this little obsession.

Several Christmases ago he surprised the kids with the fruits of several months of labor. On Christmas day he presented each of them with a set of notebooks. One was a personal commentary he had created on the Book of Mormon. It included articles, talks, graphs, maps, and about anything you could imagine that would help in understanding the Book of Mormon. Another notebook was all about families - the Proclamation, etc. The final notebook focuses on just the atonement. Needless to say, he spent long, long hours compiling these. The kids love them and consider them treasures. I'm just impressed.

Currently, he's in the process of compiling his "stories". If the kids are like me they'll think this is completely futile since we have all MEMORIZED his stories. We joke that even Oakley, the dog, runs when he says, "Got a minute? I don't think you've heard this story". Impossible. We've heard the same stories for decades and they haven't changed except for certain embellishments that he has added for interest. It hasn't worked. Get some new material, Mark!




He loves to read church books. His library rivals Deseret Book's. I actually think he deals with Sheri Dew more than he does me. She is his lifeline to Deseret Book. I am merely his wife. I try not to complain TOO much about the space all those books occupy. I think at some point that may be the leverage I need to get that new house I want.


In many ways Mark is the husband that every woman wants. He never has forgotten a birthday, anniversary, Mother's Day, Christmas, or Valentine's Day. Not ever. He never complains when I ask him to go to the store - for the 3rd time - because I've forgotten something. He's ripped off wallpaper that he just put up - just because I couldn't bear to look at it - even though I picked it out. He fills my car with gas when I don't ask. He knows I hate emptying the dishwasher, so a couple weeks ago he told me he would take over that job. He inputs my grades for me and is amazingly patient while trying to decipher my writing, which I can't figure out myself. He just shakes his head when I come home with another 4 bags of clothes or toys for Bailey and says, "You love doing that, don't you?" Many have compared us to a annoying Chiwawa and a Bulldog. I yap and yap until I get in trouble, then he shows up and protects me. He has been my greatest advocate and has encouraged me to do whatever I want - no matter how crazy. I could go on, but his head will get too big. And, trust me, it's big enough.




Mark is a devoted father. He loves his children unabashedly. He's also a sap. All our kids have to do is give him the "look" and they get what they want. He can't bear to see one of them suffer or go without something they need. As good as that sounds, his sense of responsibility is somewhat debilitating. He worries constantly about them and when he can't think of something to worry about, he worries about that. He worries that they won't get jobs, that they won't get married, that they won't have a house, that they won't....... It goes on and on. I'm not a worrier and I guess that's a good thing. Except, I think Mark worries about that.





He loves this little red-head.

He's a good man. Happy Birthday, Big Guy!!

A Prayer for Sadie

In the midst of your busy days I invite you to log onto a blog that will change your lives - sadiehuish@blogspot.com. The blog is about a little girl who has had a year long battle with an inoperable, terminal brain tumor. Her mother, Tiffany, is a good friend of our family. Kelly met "Pug" when they played softball together at Utah State. She receive the call from Pug, a little over a year ago, telling her that her little 5-year-old, Sadie, had been diagnosed with DIPG, a rare cancer that has no cure and is not conducive to surgery. We have followed her blog religiously and have been humbled by Sadie and her family as they have lived the worst nightmare a family can face.

Please take a minute to read her blog. Then, hug your children a little tighter and tell them again and again how precious they are. Try not to take for granted the joy they bring to you and the miracle they are to you.

Then, say a little prayer for Sadie and her family.

Shipping Out

I haven't even boarded this ship, yet I'm already in love. I'm fantasizing about walking up the plank (okay, it's really a ramp), being greeted by a handsome guy dressed in white, accepting the offer of that first ice cold Diet Coke (sorry, no Pepsi), and walking out onto my beautiful balcony to an endless view of blue ocean.

Thankfully, this is one dream that will come true on Saturday. We're headed for a 7-day cruise to Cabo, Mazatlan, and Puerta Vallarta. This is our fifth cruise and we've loved all of them. In my estimation, it's the purest way to vacation. I don't plan to do anything more exerting than raising my hand for another drink and pushing my chair up to the table. No phones, no emails, no students, no cooking. No worries.

I'll report in after my trip, but, until then - Bon Voyage!!

When Does a Mouse Become a Rat??

Last Thursday we celebrated Kelly's and Bailey's birthdays by going to Disneyland. It was an attempt to help Kelly forget what she was doing last year on her birthday.
Everyone went, except Jon, who is still in the doghouse.

The weather was perfect and the day was greatly anticipated. I thought Dave might burst before we finally got there. To say he is a Disneyland fan would be a grave underestimation of his feelings. In all honesty, however, we were mostly anxious to see how Bailey would react to the ULTIMATE overstimulating environment. We imagined her being enthralled with the colors and movements...and, of course, the characters.
I should have known better. It's my job. In the end, her experience with Disneyland was exactly what it should have been for a one-year-old - a perfect place to run, eat, and get lots of attention.

Here's a pictorial depiction of Bailey's Disneyland debut:

WHAT SHE DIDN'T LIKE!!!

Strange men singing to her...



The Rat and His Girlfriend...



The BIG Rat and His Girlfriend....



Spinning Teacups.....





WHAT SHE DID LIKE!!

Aunt Lindsay Spinning Her Around...



Going Up and Down Stairs...



Making Funny Faces...



Chillin'...



Drinking Dad's Powerade...



Watching Weird People...



Playing with the Trashcan...



Showing Off Her Svelte Figure...



Pushing Her Stroller...



Riding on Aunt Lindsay's Back...



Seeing Mom in a Funny Hat...



Hangin' with Aunt Lindz...



So, the answer to the question, "When does a mouse become a rat"???....When it scares your little, teeny, tiny grandaughter!!!! Shame on you, Mick!

I'm a Little Bit Country

I grew up with that awful D-I-V-O-R-C-E country music and I hated it. To this day I cringe when I hear Bluegrass or old country music. I'm talking about Waylon Jennings, Johnny Cash, and June whats-her-name??? Oh yeah...Carter.

So, after 18 long years of being tortured by that "throw yourself off a bridge" kind of music, I swore never to listen to it again. I held true to that until about 5 years ago. First, it was Kenny Chesney, then a little Garth Brooks, and finally came Rascall Flatts. And, soon I was converted. I don't, however, put them in the same category as those other old timers. My favorite songs by Kenny Chesney aren't really even country. They're more like island music. So, I guess I'm a semi-convert.

A couple of years ago Shelly (my good friend) and I decided to take our girls to Vegas to see Flatts in concert. It was a great trip and we loved the concert. So, when I saw they were coming to San Diego, I thought it would be a great night out for the "girls". We got great tickets and took off about 5:00 for the trek to Chula Vista (or, as we say, Chulaveesta). The traffic was horrible and we couldn't find anywhere to eat, so it was a quick stop at the TB, then on to Cricket Amphitheater.

Let me pause here to say that the trip alone, with Kelly and Lindsay jabbering the whole way, was worth the price of the tickets. If there's one thing that our Warner Women share it's love for a good belly laugh. An hour trip with them is sure to bring on some serious hee-hawing. Last night did not disappoint.



Jessica Simpson was the opening act and, of course, we couldn't wait to see her to check out how fat she was. Trust me, that's where the interest ended. When she came out,the first thing we said was, "She's got great legs!" Unfortunately we saw about as much of her other parts as her legs(note photo). About 10 minutes into her performance we all decided it was time for her to SHUT UP! It wasn't that her singing was so bad, it was just that we didn't go to see HER. She really is quite dumb sounding and I found myself getting a little embarrassed for her. I was happy to see her walk off the stage. (Oh, yeah.....she's a little chubby, but nothing to support all the hooplah!)

THEN, Rascall Flatts came out with a bang. They were amazing. The stage was electric. The music was flawless. They are masters at playing the crowd. It was everything we hoped. Only one problem....it was outside and it was 48 degrees! That's serious cold for wimpy San Diegans. Nevertheless, it didn't dampen our spirits one bit.



So, the concert was great. But, what I really enjoyed was spending time with my girls. I'm all for chalking up memories and this is one I'll have for a long time.
Twenty years ago I would have thought it impossible to be sitting in a country music concert with two beautiful daughters. Life is full of great surprises and for that I am grateful.

Dropping Shopping

It was a beautiful day in San Diego today, so Kelly and I decided to go to Fashion Valley (not Fashion Place) mall and roam around. Of course, The Bai went along. I was reminded of how different it is to shop with a baby - especially a very mobile baby. However, I decided it wasn't having Bai with us that was tough...it was the shopping itself. I sometimes wonder if I don't have masochistic tendencies. Going shopping is not fun. Even when I'm buying stuff, it isn't fun. So, why do I find myself doing it again and again and again? I honestly don't know. This is what I think about shopping:

1. Only when I'm in a hurry and don't have money do I find exactly what I want.
When I have money and time, I couldn't find something if my life depended on it.



2. The mirrors in dressing rooms should dispense Valium. By the time I exit I'm
ready to perform lipo on myself, without anesthesia. I don't deserve it. And,
must they have lights that turn my skin green and show every wrinkle????


or???


3. There is NO shoe comfortable enough to withstand 5 hours of shopping. So, do I
go comfortable (sorta) and frumpy or stylish and screaming? Frumpy has been
winning. And, by the way, who does wear those 5" heels? Okay...so Lindsay does.



4. Today I saw some mannequins in a storefront that had to be size -0. No kidding.
There wouldn't be room for a kidney if they were real. Who in h--- wears those
sizes? Show me a size 14 in the window and I might go in and actually buy
something because I feeling svelte.

5. Sales clerks either stalk you or treat you like you don't deserve their
attention. That might have something to do with the frumpy shoes.

6. No matter how much I love something when I buy it, by the time I've pulled in
my driveway I've convinced myself that I would embarrass myself and my entire
family if I ever wore it.

7. Today I was trying on bras. Humiliating enough as it is. Then, a sales
clerk knocks on the door and asks if she can come it to check the size. WHAT??
I almost hung myself trying to get on a bra before she stepped in and saw what
even I don't look at in the daylight. Is nothing sacred?

8. When will they start making petite clothing that can be worn by anyone younger
than 75? I thought Gloria Vanderbilt died.



9. I won't even start on bathing suits.

10. Have you ever noticed that you have to add a couple of miles onto your shopping
route just to access the elevators when you have a baby in a stroller? I imagine
men were the architects. And, of course, once you find one, it's filled with
everyone except those who have strollers or wheelchairs.



11. How about teenagers at the mall??? They travel in herds and delight in throwing
stuff onto poor unsuspecting souls on the lower levels. It's real funny. And,
they act like.....well, they act like TEENAGERS!

12. Everything in stores should be computerized. If I choose to shop at a particular
store, then it is the store's responsibility to keep track of what I bought. It's
absurd to think that I should keep track of a receipt the size of a post-it note.



13. Statistically, there are more homicides in mall parking lots that anywhere else.
I, myself, have contributed to those statistics. I'm sorry, but women are the
worst. Is is really necessary to call everyone you know, put on your make-up,
polish you nails, and clean your teeth before giving up that sacred parking spot?
Apparently so.




14. One good thing about shopping and not finding anything is that you don't have
to worry about dislocating your shoulder hauling all the packages. When we
shop with Bailey, her stroller looks like a traveling refuge camp. It's filled
with everything except Bailey, who has been left to roam around and steal other
kids' binkies.



15. Last, but not least, is, whose idea was it to place FOOD COURTS in every mall?
I either eat before I shop and can't fit into anything smaller than a size 20 or
I'm so depressed after I shop that I stop by for a little chubby girl pick-me-
up. I think it's a conspiracy. They want us to buy clothes in 4 different
sizes. It's all about the money.

Note: All the above are null and void IF there's a great sale!!