Thank you Debbie – I Feel a Great Kinship for You

       

            I AM THE PRIMARY CARRIER ON THE PHONE PLAN – ALWAYS HAVE BEEN.  SO WHY DOES T-MOBILE AND CONSUMER CELLULAR INSIST ON CALLING ROLAND’S PHONE?   Roland always seems to be passing the buck because “they won’t talk to me.”

            “Why won’t they talk to him?  He’s on the plan.”  I don’t know how many times I told T-Mobile that Roland “Does Have Authorization” I am so tired of being a third party between Roland and the company or Roland and the neighbor or worse – having him try to communicate with my brother-in-law through me and Kayla.  Give me a break!

            At least Consumer Cellular is human.  Even T-Mobiles “caller” is a machine that tells you to press this button and that one.  HEY – you called me.  I don’t have to accept – especially for a machine.

            Roland and I have been married almost twelve years now, and he still hasn’t seemed to figure out that I REALLY DON’T LIKE THE PHONE.  Just because he and my boys seem to be surgically implanted to their cell phones does not mean I even want to use mine.  I purchased it in case of an emergency.  Calling the cell phone provider (especially the former never-will-use-again provider) does not quality as an emergency.

            I’d much rather do things in person or through the Internet than over the phone.  The rep at costumer service said the same thing.  I didn’t get her full name, but I would gladly accept a friendship request from her were she to offer.  But I don’t know that I provided my maiden name with consumer cellular.  My married name is way too common.  She’d need them both to find me - provided she’d even be interested in having me as a friend.

            I asked her why she would be answering phones for a living if she truly loathes the phone as much as I do.  Some people, unfortunately, have to settle just to make ends meet.  Perhaps she took the job out of desperation.  She does at least get to type along with answering the phones. 

            Debbie made a marvelous impression.  She was very helpful and kind.  I really enjoyed talking with her and wish we could have had a more personal conversation.  I really would like to get to know her better.  I’ve really got nothing to go on accept for the name of the company for which she’s employed.  That doesn’t narrow it down.  I have no idea what state she’s in.

            Often when I try contacting Roland in Salt Lake City, I get connected to the Phoenix location.  Talk about frustrating.  Normally I just text his cell phone or e-mail him messages (I really don’t like to text either – having a full size keyboard makes it so much easier.)

           How great it would be if we didn't need phones anymore!

She Believes Chef Ron is AMAZING

As I mentioned in a previous post, Roland enjoys watching “Chopped” (or at least he used to) on the Food Network.  I think we were living in West Valley when we’d see the advertisements for the new upcoming show “Sweet Genius” hosted by Ron Ben-Israel a renowned chef and cake artist extraordinaire. 

I allowed the ads to lead me to believe that the show would be similar to “Chopped” but with just desserts.  Roland watched it maybe twice, but would not take it seriously.  It was a squirrely show in his opinion.  He didn’t like the second surprise ingredient being introduced while in the process of trying to create something with the first one. He didn’t like the fact that the chefs need an “inspirational” theme.  But mostly I think he just doesn’t care for Chef Ron.  There is just such a bizarreness about him.

         Just on his appearance alone, he seems to fit the villain profile of any given kid vid or screwball comedy.  Put him in a uniform and I can visualize him playing the part of a Nazi in Hogan’s Heroes. Top that off with his seemingly weird personality and I wondered if he could be taken seriously.  I can actually visualize him playing member of the Gestapo or criminal mind in a realistic movie.

         Unlike Roland, Jenna LOVES “Sweet Genius”.  She thinks the title is very fitting and thinks that Ron Ben- is the most awesome and best chef in the world.  Her favorite part of the show is having the inspirational themes to work with.  I agree with Roland that it is weird watching Ron laugh in the darkness that represents sin or plays with a python or the ventriloquist doll (which I have always thought of as somewhat creepy anyway) Ron Ben- (for me) has the appearance of being a ventriloquist doll himself.

         I just did a research on Wikipedia.  I found it interesting that he had been “discovered” by Martha Stewart.  Before he started his baking “hobby” in 1993 he had been a dancer.  I would have never ever guessed that.  Jenna will really think he’s the greatest when she finds that out.

                 

A Unique Approach

         I really did not know my Grandpa James.  I was told that he was the black sheep in his family.  His biological mother died only a week after he was born.  He grew up having made quite a few errors.  He enjoyed smoking, drinking and older woman.  I’m not certain how he and grandma met as he was from Ogden and she was from Panguitch.  I think he may have had family living in Panguitch.  I don’t know.

          I would think he hadn’t joined the navy until after he married my grandma as they lived in Utah for almost four years.  My mom was two when the navy took them from Utah to San Francisco

         My maternal grandparent’s divorced after my mom had turned thirteen.  But I believe they were still married when my grandfather planted an early seed to discourage my mom from wanting to smoke or drink. Perhaps it was the year they divorced – I don’t know.  I just remember her relating the following (but I don’t know how old she was – or young rather)

         Her father took her aside and said, “[June], this is the day you get to smoke.”

         Both of her parents were heavy smokers, and I don’t know if she showed interest in wanting to smoke, if she ever tried stealing cigarettes or at least pretended to smoke. Perhaps he did it of his own free will with the hopes that it would discourage her.

         Mom said it might not have been so bad if he would have just given her a cigarette that had been a part of her life before birth – in the air she breathed and saw on a daily basis.  But Grandpa James lit up a cigar and gave it to her.  Of course she gagged and coughed and couldn’t (nor wanted to) finish.  And Grandpa James said something along the lines that it was okay, but that if mom chose not to finish the cigar than she might as well not smoke EVER

     

                            

         I don’t know if he tried the same trick with the alcoholic beverage.  It seems like mom did tell me something but I can’t remember the exactness of it.  I just know it left an impact on her that she remembered – and shared.  NOT a good experience, but an educational one.

         This is not a method that I’d be willing to try out myself.  But I’m glad that it worked out for my mother.  I think she did say she tried a cigarette when she was sixteen, but never made it past the first couple of puffs.  Good job, Grandpa James!

Back to School Night: the Leader in Me

I had worked for Franklin Covey on assignment from one of the temp places I had worked for.  I worked on the conveyer belt adding my one item to each box that would slide by. NOT a tough job by any means. 

Periodically the staff would take a small break and shoot baskets or watch – part of an incentive program that I didn’t understand.  Nor did I make the connection that Steven L. Covey is related and had set up a 7 habit program within the working environment before Sean Covey brought it to a more youthful level and the program has now been introduced to various schools.

        

I had gone to a “Back to School” night when my three boys were in junior high and then an orientation with Jenna just before she started kindergarten.  Other than that I don’t remember hearing anything more about back to school except for those two times.

Before Mrs. Randolf (best principal in the world) made the announcement, I figured it out.  Jenna’s school (among others in that particular area) has been chosen to be a part of the 7 habits program this year.  

 

I remember learning a bit about it last year when the children were introduced the program and learned this song.  Mrs. Randolf promised that she would see change in our students.  We would see leadership behavior and our children would come home with a new respect and that things would be different. 

I thought, “That would be so great.  I wonder how long.”

But since school has started, I will call Jenna and instead of her usual, “Just a minute,” She now responds with, “coming mother.”  What?  Who are you and what have you done with my child?

We have been so truly blessed – just having had the opportunity of getting Jenna into the school and to learn Spanish, but now this new leadership program.  The kids are stoked, the teachers are stoked.  Mrs. Randolf has been a ball of fire even before the school was picked.  But now she’s like a positive inferno spreading goodness and enthusiasm.

I’ve spent too much time consumed in some trials and have missed many opportunities with Jenna because of my negative attitude towards these trials.  But I have really been trying to turn things around and make more happy moments for both of us.  At the assembly I realized that Jenna will be teaching me.  She will be the example that I need to follow.

I am so grateful for this opportunity that we’ve all been given.  To have her learn.  To have her become happy about it again.  To learn leadership skills. To learn a second language.  We are so blessed!

Why Women Leak

         Actually, I don’t know why women leak.  We just do.  Perhaps not all women, but many of us.

Whenever we feel sadness or sorrow, compassion or joy, empathy or misconduct, our eyes tear up and flood our face. Whenever our child (or children) is hurting, we feel their pain.  Whenever we see a movie or read a book that reaches into our hearts and connects to our tear ducts.  Whenever our hormones happen to be on overdrive (or overload?) Whenever we feel misunderstood.

I have cried at the end of Toy Story 3, Despicable Me, and E.T. (to name a few) I wept through Alabama Moon and The Odd Life of Timothy Green.  I need an entire box of tissues each time I watch “Up” and I refuse to watch “The Notebook” ever again.  I’ve cried when reading Children’s books such as “The Robot and The Bluebird” by David Lucas or “You are Mine” by Max Lucado.  I cried during parts of “The One and Only Ivan” by Katherine Applegate and stories such as Monkeys and the Mangos (which has many versions).  

Tear ducts seem to be attached to the heart strings except in the case of chopping onions – that produces tears in which the heart is not involved.  Roland and Jenna can both seem to chop onions without tearing up. Jenna laughs when I chop onions.

Last night I cried during an episode of “Chopped” for crying out loud.  To me it just feels pretty silly to cry at the end of reality show.  What a dweeb. The female chef had burned herself and her competitor who claims he was arrogant and had stepped on others to climb to the top had made amends . . . and offered to pay for her plane ticket out of his winnings.

We’re a sorry case, I suppose.  But we’re also awesome at being able to feel.

Happy Memories and Stages of Time

 In June 2009 we celebrated my mom's 70th birthday.  Sunny had made arrangements to invite friends and family members to a "surprise" birthday party for my mom. I don't recall how many came, but there was a lot.  Many from the ward, a few from work, and family members - Bill and Kayla had taken several pictures.  I would guess there were 50 - 70 people in all.

Corey gave a tribute and several sat in folded chairs that Sunny must have borrowed from the Church.  Mom was definitely surprised and she looked so happy.  She had already been diagnosed with dementia, but it was just the early stages.  She was well aware of what was going on.  And she knew everybody there.

Last November - before we put mom into assisted living - she was overwhelmed by the tremendous amount of people at our Thanksgiving dinner - all 18 of us.  So I thought she'd really freak when we took her to the ward Christmas dinner one month later because there were over 200 at that one.  But she smiled and pleasantly greeted everyone.  She was happy.  She was a little lost in her mind.  And the following month we put her into assisted living where she spent the next four months trying to escape. 

She was definitely happy last night. Sunny and her family had dropped by the assisted living to bring mom to the annual "Christmas in July" (which came late this year) and she was happy.  Happy to see relatives she hadn't seen "forever" or "it's been a long time" - Sunny told me that she said it had been years since she had seen me - and Sunny knows for a fact that I was there just the day prior.

Garrett received a new hair cut - causing him appear to be a tad bit older.  Mom kept commentting on what a cute little boy he is.  She also kept on asking who he was and who he belonged to. 

"That's your grandson.  That's Kayla's little boy."  

She remembers Anna.  But she doesn't often remember who Gary is.  Her dementia had taken over when he was born.  She was still living at home and had planned to walk to the hospital to see him and Kayla.  Walking to the hospital from my mom's house is possible, but not a casual walk.  It's a good two miles at least.  I tried to remind her of that.

"The hospital is not that far from my house and I can walk there if I want to!"

She was in her independent stage. A stage in which she believed her grown up children were treating her like a child.  A stage when she would wander off and actually walk that distance unintentionally.  A stage that kept all of us on our toes trying hard to watch her but allow her to believe that she still had her independance.

Sunny's last experience with taking her out of assisted living was an unpleasant one.  She said my mom was so distorted and unfamiliar with her surroundings and didn't know how she'd gotten to Sunny's house or why and wanted to go "home'  - referring to the assisted living.  She has accepted it as home.  That's where she lives and has for about 8 years (in her mind; seems like every month for the rest of us has been a year for her)

She excitedly told my aunt Fern about Harold - who when she first felt an attraction towards him had told Corey that Harold was a very old man - old enough to be her father.  She told Aunt Fern that she and Harold are actually very close in age.  She believes he is five years older.  (There is a ten year difference in actuality) 

It was so wonderful to see mom genuinely happy - even if she doesn't remember that Garrett is her grandson - not to mention several relatives who we actually don't see except maybe twice a year - if that.  She had a great time.  I don't know how much of it will stay with her.  I wonder what she will tell Corey about last night's events.

When It Was Ricks College

I attended Ricks College for one year.  Rexburg was over 200 miles away from my home and so I lived in the dorms near the campus. Believe it or not, I really did have three roommates with the same or similar names – though each spelled differently.  Christy Ann Howardson, Christie Lee Hill and Kristaleigh Phelps.  The girls who lived in the same dorm as we did would see me coming and would say, “Hi Christi-“ in which I would respond, “No, I’m the other one” thus earning my new nickname, “the other one”

We couldn’t refer to the Christie(y)s with just the last initial because they both started with the same letter.  And although Christie was willing to go by Christie Lee it was just too confusing for Kristaleigh.  And Christy refused to go by Christy Ann.  So sometimes I called her Howard – or Howardine – just to get a rile out of her. It was actually kind of fun.

As roommates go, we all had our peculiarities, our strengths and our weaknesses, etc.  Christie was a take charge kind of gal.  We called her mom.  She liked to bake.  And she baked well.  She once made an oatmeal cake in two round pans.  Never had an opportunity to put it together and frost it as one.  Christy ate one pan and I ate the other.  And I think Christie was okay with it. She loved to cook and bake but didn’t necessarily want to eat everything she made.

Most of the dishes in the kitchen were hers.  She had brought along these puny juice glasses which I always referred to as “Barbie doll” glasses.  I had asked her why she had brought so many “Barbie doll” glasses instead of something large enough to actually quench one’s thirst.  She said matter-of-factly, “Because I was hoping that I would get a roommate who would give them a nickname.”

Christy, who was one of the most gullible people on this planet, believed her.

Christy was a farm girl from a city in Idaho that nobody had ever even heard of.  She always had to explain that it was near Blackfoot – which more than half of the college attenders had never heard of either.  She was the role model of all blonde jokes.  Sometimes I felt like I was talking to someone from a foreign planet who had obviously never experienced earth life before.

Boys seemed magnetized to Christy.  Can’t say that I would have been interested in any of them.  Not that they’d ever give me a second look. Seriously.  They all needed ego boosters. And not all of them had good intentions.  And Christy was quite naïve.

Kristaleigh and I were the theatrical pair.  She actually majored in theatre – whereas I was just a ham.  I once practiced lines with her as she had an audition coming up.  She asked me to pair up with her for her audition.  She picked out my clothes so that I would look the part.  I told the instructor that I was not trying out for the part but had come to assist.  I wasn’t interested in the play itself nor was I interested in devoting my free time with practice.

After we had auditioned, he looked at me and said I could still be considered.  I told him no, thank you.  I’m so glad that I did.  For, according to Kristaleigh, everyone who had auditioned had been given a part – except for her.  I think she tried too hard and her acting was just that.  It never looked natural. I would have felt awful going to auditions that she wasn’t directly a part of. She worked it out so that she could be prop manager.

The dorm put out a newsletter once a month (I’m guessing) and Christie was one of the editors and had asked Christy and I to write pieces on occasion.  I actually didn’t remember having that newsfeed but had come across it when weeding through the scrapbooks that I could no longer save (see this post)

I had scanned the following: