Call 9-1-1!

This was what Kevin said to me on Monday night as I looked out our bedroom sliding glass door and saw flames coming from the alley. Let me back up a tad. We had just come back from Dillan's strings concert, had just gotten Olivia and Blake out of the bath tub, and was in my bathroom getting a bandaid for Olivia's big toenail that had been ripped in half the day before in a door incident (side note-that one got me a little queasy. I had to take a moment to regroup when I saw the toenail bent back on itself and flesh from the toenail bed. I did rise to the occasion though), when I noticed that our room was glowing. Looked in the back yard and saw the flames shooting in the air. The recycling dumpster was on fire. I told Kevin there was a fire, he ran into the closet, and then leapt over the treadmill out the door, dragged the hose across the pool, then yelled for Dillan to get the shovel. Chloe ran outside and started crying telling Kevin not to get hurt. She may need to work on her emergency preparedness skills. I called the fire department, then got Olivia and Blake dressed (didn't want to seem WT with the kids in the nekked outside) then stood on the corner outside our house to wait for the fire dept. The excitement brought out the neighbors and gave us a chance to discuss each families emergency preparedness including: if the house is on fire and you are nekked, it's ok to run outside. No one will point and laugh. This is actually the reason why I always wear pajamas. I am scared to run outside in an emergency in my garments. Here in AZ, they will at least stare at my funny underwear, if not point and laugh. Anyway, the FD FINALLY got there after Kevin and Dillan had it mostly out. Interestingly enough, one of our kiddie corner back door neighbors brought out his fire extinguisher, pulled the pin, aimed, then discharged it into his face and shoulder. He did not stick around to provide any more "assistance". The FD did not have to fill out a report. I found that surprising since there was another dumpster fire two weeks before. Pattern? Kevin saw a couple of hooligans leaving the alley when he was pulling up from after the concert, so he went to go track them down. He didn't find them, but he has always amazed me how he is so aware of what is going on and his quick thinking skills. Speaking of quick thinking, when he ran back into the closet, it was to get his firearm, in case there was a bad guy out there trying to lure someone out with the fire. Man, he's good. Dillan is so lucky to have such an awesome dad to teach him important manly things like this. Olivia's response to the fire was that she couldn't wait to tell Daniel S. at school the next day. I hope he's not a budding pyromaniac.

A Day of Rejection

It's actually been longer than a day, but it all came to fruition on the same day.


REJECTION #1


We decided that Dillan would do better in a different setting than the public school, so I have been looking into private schools, and the Paradise Valley Christian Preparatory Academy is less than a mile away from us and has very good scores, small class sizes, etc, and since we are Christian, I thought that this would be an excellent fit. Kevin and I took the tour of the facilities and filled out an information card, including which church we went to. All seemed well, and that it would be our decision until I was called by an administrator and asked if I had had a chance to look over their statement of faith. I said I hadn't, to which she said that it was a contradiction to what we believed and therefore would not be able to attend. I didn't quite know what to say. I thought that with "Christian" in the title of the school, that we would be okay. I knew that the doctrine that they were teaching was not the same as ours, but should they be worried about confusing Dillan? I would think that they would want to convert him to their team, if anything. Kevin thinks that they are more worried about what Dillan would be teaching the other kids. Funny thing is, some of our friends that have kids there are less than model citizens of the Christian faith and I highly doubt that they are regular attenders. Oh well. They aren't the only fish in the sea.


REJECTION #2


I have been strong armed out of the PTG. For the past year, I have been serving as the secretary, which I was told meant that I would take the minutes for the PTG meetings. I also got the responsibility of sending out a weekly email with the PTG goings on. I knew that it would be tough squeezing in all of my other obligations plus this, however, since I have three children at the school, I felt like it was my duty to run for office. I ran unopposed by the way. At the very last second before the elections began, I threw my hat in to the ring, so really, it was me or nothing. I thought that things were going well, even though I knew I wasn't putting forth my best effort because #1 it was a volunteer position and #2 I'd never been the secretary of anything before, so there was a huge learning curve as I tried to figure things out, but I was told by many reputable sources than the weekly emails I sent out were funny and interesting. So, I was caught off guard the weekend before the marathon, I received information from the fund raising VP, I'll call her "Kassie", for a mass email that I was to send out for Bingo night to plead for volunteers to help out. I sent her an email back letting her know that I was getting ready for the marathon, that all of my sisters were in town, and the earliest that I could do it was Monday, and if she wanted, I would give her the email account info so that she could do it. Well, she was pretty upset that I had the nerve to run a marathon instead of perform my PTG duties because she had done a hundred things for the school that week, so hearing that I was running a marathon was "a little hard to take." Well, apparently, this was the beginning of my demise, because after that point, I knew something was up. I was asked three times by the president of I was going to continue on for next year. I knew it was still a big time commitment, but I felt like I knew what I was doing. So when the president asked me a FOURTH time, in a not so nice way indicating that I had an easy PTG job and the others had been doing more than their fair share, I said "You can take this job and shove it!" All right. I didn't say that exactly, but the meaning was the same. Then I proceeded to "tattle" on them to the principal. I know. Childish. But I told her that if she was ever having a hard time finding parent volunteers, it was because of this kind of behavior from other parents. The principal sided with me and was HORRIFIED to find out that I would not be continuing on as secretary. Shortly after was the annual Spring Fling, which is a huge fundraiser for the PTG. I was responsible for the announcement of the event. I sent out an "Ode to Spring (Fling)" which, I must say, was clever and cute and I got a the most responses from any email I sent out. It was kind of like when a boyfriend dumps you (not that I know what that experience is like) and you get super hot and he realizes what he is missing, that was the effect the "Ode" had. I was invited to the Appreciation Dinner for the PTG board which I respectfully declined. Twice. I knew if I went, it would turn into a "Real Housewives of Phoenix" moment with name calling, finger pointing, and table flipping.

REJECTION #3

I wasn't picked to run the NYC marathon. Talk about adding insult to injury.

A Gym Rant #2 or Pants on the Ground

I didn't think another incident would happen that I would blog about from the gym, but alas, I have more material. Soooo.....last week, I had just finished my super strenuous, athlete in training workout when I walked in to the Women's Locker Room. Now, I am not naive that there is better than a 50% chance that I will see nudity when I walk in there. I am not offended by nudity, since I have seen so much of it, and at least 90% of it has been unattractive nudity (you guessed it, Blake is the other 10%), so there is little nudity that shocks me. Which is what happened when I walked in to the locker room. I came around the corner, and there was a woman, probably in her 20s, with her pants halfway down, or halfway up, depending if you are an optimist or a pessimist, so she was nekked from her midriff to her midthighs. Uh, yeah. But that isn't why I was appalled. I was horrified at what she was doing, standing up, nekked. She was texting! I don't know of one phone call, text, letter in the mail, or loud speaker announcement, that would cause me to stop pulling my pants up! Seriously, uncalled for. But that is what this generation is turning into. The text vs. common decency.

Signs that Spring is Here (in Phoenix)

The signs of spring in Phoenix are quite different than living in Utah. Here are some that I have noticed.
#1 Rattle snake calls are up.
#2 I pay a lot more attention to the pool (Side note-I fixed the pool pump! It had stumped the husband, but I did it).
#3 Orange blossoms fragrant the air.
#4 I wear a short sleeve shirt and pants, instead of a long sleeve shirt and pants. No shorts yet, silly. That's not till it's above 95.
#5 Baby quail. Cute!
I'm so glad that it's warming up. I have been cold for four months. I mean chilly willy. I don't expect any sympathy from any really cold weather people, but I am so glad that I don't have to bundle up to go outside. I was seriously perturbed that I had to put a jacket on to go outside. There's no way now (I hope) that it will dip below a high of 75.

A Gym Rant

No, not a gym rat, a gym RANT. That's what I am about to do. Picture the scene, if you will. This AM, I chose to go to the gym, because I knew that I would be at the 6th grade Greek Olympics during the day, and didn't have time to hit the treadmill at home, and since I have officially started training to hike the Grand Canyon North Rim over Memorial Day weekend with Kevin, I thought it would be a good idea to do the Stairmaster for as long as the time allowed (20 minutes-would love to sneak in longer, but there are only two Stairmasters at the gym, and I don't like to get in trouble. I also like to follow rules. You can ask Emily, who I made tell me which side of me she was planning on running during the marathon, and she stuck to it. It was the left side of me, by the way). So.....the Stairmaster is quite an intense cardio workout, so I had worked up quite a sweat, but didn't feel like I had gotten all of the cardio that I wanted, so I moved on to the elliptical machine. There are 12 at the gym, 2 downstairs, 10 upstairs. I chose the one closest to the fan, and turned the fan on, because I was sweating, and once I got going on the elliptical, I was sweating like a pig hiking out of the Grand Canyon in the middle of July. It was at this point that an older gentleman came up to me and asked me if I needed the fan on. I said "You can turn it off if you need to." Which he did. Then he chose an elliptical machine the FARTHEST (or furthest- I may get corrected here) away from the fan, and left me there to sweat so much, that I pictured an apparatus to collect the sweat, much like a rain gauge. Kevin asked me why I didn't just get off and turn the fan back on. I didn't want to break my rhythm. Where was Julie when I needed her? Gillette, I mean, not Taylor, because, even though Julie is of unusually small size, she can pack a punch. If anyone has a wittier response than "I'm sweating like a pig here, you choose" let me know. I am open to suggestions.

It could be Hazardous to your Ears to have a Nurse as a Friend

Just ask Emily. She was the victim of a visual that only a nurse can paint. Kevin learned very early on in our marriage that if I ever said "Guess what happened at work today?", he would halt the conversation right then and there. He has learned that if the conversation starts drifting into nursing territory, that I get the eye that means "Please don't say another word." Too bad for Emily she doesn't know this yet, even though she should have had a clue when I told her that story about Lisa Long from college, when she and I were running the marathon, and I told her about when Lisa had some sputum in her throat and mistakenly said that she had some scrotum in her throat (bet you can't have a little tickle in your throat and not think about that). So, when she got on the subject of her "lady" issues and I inquired about the physicality of her husband as it related to her, which, of course, to me, opens the door for talking about, you know, the "shar pei" look. I had to spell it out for her, because, despite the fact that I was attempting to be delicate, she just wasn't getting it (if you are not getting it either, please, let me know. There are certain words that I don't want to put on the blog). I also used the analogy of a man trying to put a turtleneck on. I think this sent her over the edge. Little does she know that I have A LOT more up my sleeve. Imagine if I worked in the ER. That is like a gold mine for party stories, all of which are told with complete anonymity for HIPPA reasons. I haven't even told her about the man with the elephantitis issue.

I am SUFFERING!

It's true. I am wallowing in suffer, even as we speak. Last week, after a day of Pilate's and elliptical, I stepped out of the shower, and thought, "Odd. My right shin is numb. Maybe the water was too hot." It didn't go away. Thanks to Google, I was able to self diagnose that my ailment was the result of a compressed disc/ nerve in my back, caused by (gasp) RUNNING! What?! And exacerbated by Pilate's maneuvers that are not recommended by chiropractors. UGH!! Just when I was starting to get faster and run for longer, this happens! Poor me. Now you see why I suffer. I am going to Dr. Berg, Chiropractor, from the ward, who, by the way, has THE most modest patient gowns I've ever seen. They Velcro in the back and go past my knees and almost to my elbows. I may "accidentally" walk out with one in my purse. I'll have to bring the big purse next time. He is doing stimulation therapy on my back (feels like a million little hands massaging my back. And, like other massages, he takes me off of it just as I am falling asleep. Meanie.), followed by distraction therapy. This is stretching out my lower back, although, I'm not sure why it is called "distraction", because I like it. He does distract me by talking about Kevin, so I guess that could be it. Every time I have gone, I have asked him, WHEN can I start running. He says maybe four to six weeks. I have decided, that maybe doctors orders are really just suggestions, and meant to be a sort of guide. In the mean time, no Pilate's, no running, but I can "pool jog". Stepped in to the pool this AM and almost died from exposure. Like hypothermia, not exposing my neighbors to me in a suit after four months of no tan. So, I will not be pool jogging until June, maybe May if the temperature gets above 105 by then. Oh well. Kevin and I are planning a trip to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon for a down and up in one day (approximately 28 miles with an average grade of 21%) and the doctor did say that walking was good for me. He NEVER said that I shouldn't do it at a 15% incline with a 15 lb backpack on. Alright, maybe the SUFFERING was a little dramatic, but you know me. My mom always said I should have been an actress.