Superpaige's Pad

The Trials of a Busy Mom

Month: May 2009 (page 2 of 2)

Let’s have more singing

For those of you, who, like me, think that life would me much more fun if it were a musical, check this out.

Or this one. There should be more spontaneous dancing, don’t you think?

Are you crying? There’s no crying in movies

I watched Marley and Me last night.
It was Monday, and you know you can get one or more free movies from Redbox on Mondays, so when I ran through WalMart to buy fingernail polish remover, I picked up two movies. Hubby’s out of town, so I watched it alone after the kids went to bed.

Cute Jennifer Aniston and Owen Wilson and a cute puppy! It’s a happy movie, right? Yes, it IS a happy movie about a family’s journey and a dog. But then we get to the end, where that dog is getting old and feeble, and the family realizes that the dog is going to die. I was crying–no, Sobbing. Really. Sobbing. I was SO glad I saw that movie alone at home and not in a movie theater! As I reached for another Kleenex, I laughed at myself for crying so much over a movie about a dog. But, really, what did I think was going to happen? I can’t even watch Where the Red Fern Grows anymore. Even if I am flipping channels and see that it’s on (like it was the other night), the tears start to well up just when I realize which movie it it. And I don’t even have a dog! I did let my kids watch Where the Red Fern Grows, but I wouldn’t watch it with them. I know my limits.

But the love of pets is universal, isn’t it? We’ve had our lovable little bird since before Cole joined our family. At the end of the movie, when Jennifer Aniston says something about how they got Marley to prepare for a family, but they didn’t realize that when they got Marley they already were a family. That just made me bawl even more! Pets are wonderful additions to a family, but when a pet dies, it really is traumatic. The other day I couldn’t find our beloved old bird (he had flown off somewhere and wasn’t responding to our whistling) and I started to panic. He couldn’t be gone, could he? We found him, and he’s still there, but he’s not going to live forever.

I remember when I was on my mission, and I asked my parents about our dog, Butch. How’s Butch? I wrote in a letter, and I noticed I didn’t get a response to my question. Later, when I asked about it again, they told me that Butch had died. There I was, off in a foreign country, sobbing about my dog, who had been gone for quite some time.

Yes, pets are an important part of a family, and we love them, and we grieve for them when they are gone. Even if it’s just a movie.

She was ON TV!

Look at this!

My talented sister painted my daughter an d my grandma for Sunday’s Music and the Spoken Word painting. It’s cool to have such talent in the family!


Oh, I’m a little wicked. Aren’t you? Yesterday we saw Wicked in Salt Lake City. It was Amazing!

People have asked how I got tickets. Did I win them? Do I know someone in high places? Am I secretly a munchkin? No. Back in October, I got a message from my bank telling me I was eligible to buy Wicked tickets at a pre-sale on Halloween day. I put in on my calendar, and when the time came, I got on the internet, hitting refresh every minute or so, trying to get through. I was also on the phone trying to get through. It’s just like any other contest, right? Dial, busy, repeat. After about an hour, I FINALLY got through, and bought tickets. I was allowed to buy 8, so 8 I bought. Even though there are only 7 people in my family. So, no, I didn’t win them, but I kind of felt like I had won them.

When the time came closer, I realized that our tickets were for the same weekend as women’s conference at BYU, and my good friend R would be in town that weekend, so I offered her one ticket. As it turned out, however, she couldn’t come because of scheduling problems, so I offered that ticket to another friend, who I knew would love to see the show. Out of town. Hmmm. I actually had two tickets to sell, since John wasn’t old enough to go, so I offered them to my friend J, who had told me long before that if I had ANY extra tickets, she would buy them from me. She jumped at the chance, and decided to take her daughter, one of my daughter’s friends. Hooray! Plans were made, and we were getting excited.

Wednesday night I told the kids, “Guess where we get to go on Saturday?”
“Disneyland?” was their excited reply.
“Not quite THAT exciting, but still exciting. I have tickets to see Wicked.” They were sufficiently excited. I was happy I could take them. But then I realized that my 15 year old son had a scout camp out over the weekend, and he wouldn’t be able to go. Oh, no!

With one more ticket, I asked my friend if she wanted to take one more in her family. Darn. Her husband just had surgery, so he was out, and her son, who would also LOVE to go, had a soccer game. She couldn’t use it. I asked another friend, S, who has already seen Wicked twice, but who I know would LOVE to go. She was thrilled to be offered the chance. But just ONE ticket? Should she grab it up and go, or be a good mom and let her daughter go? She agonized over the decision, but it finally came down to letting her daughter go, and she would go with her other daughter to her dance recital. We were all set.

Saturday dawned, and I had my kids cleaning their rooms. John was set to go to a friend’s, whose mom willingly offered to watch him while we were gone to the play. I dashed over to a fun watch party open house, and while there, my phone rang. It was about 11:30. Ryan tells me he’s decided he has too much to do today, and can I find someone else to use his ticket? Are you kidding me? The show is in less than 3 hours, we are leaving in an hour and a half, and NOW you decide you don’t want to go? He said since he had already seen it once in New York, and he was leaving town tonight, he really wanted to get some things done before he left, and would I mind if he didn’t go.

I turned to my friend, M, who was also at the watch party, who was JUST BARELY telling me how much she WANTED to go to see the show, and asked if she could drop everything and go to see the show TODAY.
“What?” She gasped. “Today? What time?”
“Two o’clock. We’re leaving at 12:45 and we can take you.”
A look of anguish passed over her face. “I can’t go. It’s my daughter’s dance recital. And it’s prom tonight.”
I tried, unsuccessfully, I might add, to persuade her to ditch her family obligations, and come to Wicked with me.

She called me Satan, and told me to stop tempting her.

Back on the phone. I called S. More anguish. She had promised her daughter she would go to the dance recital, and she had to leave and go and get pictures taken. “ARRRGH!” she said, “Try someone else, and call me back.”

I called another friend of mine, but she was just leaving to go swimming with the kids. Could none of my friends drop everything and go? I was beginning to think I might have to make Ryan just go with me. And how rude I was to be phoning and calling while I’m at someone else’s house.

I called S back, who I KNEW really wanted to go. She was still agonizing over the decision, but trying to be a good mother and fulfill all her obligations. She decided she couldn’t go. I called my friend D.

“D,” I said, (only I didn’t just call her “D”, I used her whole name) “can you drop everything and ditch your family and go and see Wicked today?”
“Let me see. Can I call you back in two minutes?” she asked.
While she was figuring it out, I was mentally listing who I would call next. My sister, my friend S, my sister-in-law, who could be spontaneous? These darn families! Keeping us too busy to drop everything and just go. And who would have thought it would be this hard to get rid of tickets to Wicked?
Ring-Ring. It was D, “I’m in. What time?”
Good for her! Even though she had just gotten back from running 20 miles (Yes, that was not a typo–two, zero. Twenty.), her husband was ok to go to the soccer game with the kids, and she could go. I told her I’d pick her up in one hour.

Back home, we fed the kids lunch and got everyone ready. The excitement was running high. We dropped off John, picked up our friends, and were on our way.

Once we got there, we split into our two groups, four of us in row w, and four girls in row Z. Because it was a matinee and there were lots of kids there, I wasn’t able to get a booster cushion for Jenna, but sitting on my jacket and her jacket helped, and I think she was able to see all right. Although Megan just informs me that she “couldn’t see hardly anything because there were these really tall people in front” of her. Well, now. Sorry about that. I can’t make all the tall people stay home just so she can see better, now can I?

The stage at the Capitol Theater in Salt Lake is definitely smaller than the Gershwin Theater in New York, but it was still amazing. I personally liked the Elphaba and Glinda we saw in New York better than these, but I liked the Fiero, the Wizard and Madame Morrible better. It was amazing. I loved it. The girls loved it, and my friends loved it. We sang all the way home. Gee, I wonder why Ryan didn’t want to go. Anyway,if you haven’t seen it yet, I hope you will someday get a chance. It was Over the Rainbow spectacular.

Gee, your veins look terrific!

Today I spent just over $100 on a pair of stockings. Yes, gentle reader, that wasn’t your eyes playing tricks on you. Stockings. Moderate Medical Compression stockings, to be more specific. Icky, uncomfortable, squeeze your legs all the time stockings. For my veins. My veins that don’t work. (More about my veins in a later post).

As I was in Provo, and the medical supply place is in Orem by the mall, I decided to make a quick stop and pick up my dumb stockings. And some WAY cute fabric for some curtains (hopefully more about the way cute curtains when I actually sew them–later. Much later). But what makes me laugh is the picture on the box.

Look at this lady. Do you believe for one second that this lady has vericose veins? I don’t think so. But they put this pretty lady in the cocktail dress lounging oh so comfortably leaning on a couch. She’s probably at a party or something, with her pretty legs in her MEDICAL COMPRESSION STOCKINGS.

Do you think if I put these stockings on (I’m hoping I can actually GET them on!) I will look that good in my little black dress, too? Of course I will!

They can’t put a realistic picture on the box, can they? Because then someone who’s going in looking for the stockings might see something like this:

But at least, then I’d know that those were the stockings I was looking for. It’s not like people are in a department store looking at these stockings. “Oh, look, honey, it’s those stockings I’ve been wanting. And they are only $100. Let’s get them instead of those flimsy little Hanes that are only $4.65.” No. You get these stockings because your doctor calls in an Rx, and you Have to get them. And no, the insurance doesn’t cover it. But I can take comfort in the fact that I’ll look sassy and sexy, just like the lady on the box, when I wear them.

I’ll be back

I’m sorry for the lack of, well, anything here. I have a bunch of stuff in my head I’d love to blog about, but no time.

Today I’m off to BYU for my second day of a fabulous women’s conference!

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