You're my obsession

About a week or so ago TNT or TBS had a Lord of the Rings marathon. I realized that I hadn't seen the movies in a few years. Since I own the three extended DVD editions I thought I'd start watching them again, but in sections. Each one is around 4 hours long. I thought I'd watch a little here and there. Well, here's something about me -- I get obsessed.

I was obsessed when the movies first came out, and these past two weekends I have been watching the three movies again nonstop. JB was out of town and I'd creep back upstairs at night scared out of my mind after watching Orcs battle it out on our big screen. But I always returned for more. Now I'm done with the films and am thinking about reading the books again, or watching all the making-of documentaries again.

I do this with so many things. Harry Potter, Twilight, The Office -- I discover something and immerse myself in it until it's spent or I'm spent. What should I obsess about next?

Patriotic Sass

Meet my newest love.

In the interest of getting the economy going through consumer spending, I purchased the above pair of silver strappy sassy heels. They are quite flashy, so I was a little nervous. But I received several compliments on Sunday, which made me feel good that I look good while serving my country.

But, in the interest of following recent counsel to avoid debt and be careful with money, I admit the following: They are from Payless.

Spicy PS

After reading the comments about our new spice cabinet I realized forgot to mention that the ironing board in there was old, wooden, and rickety. I think I resented the fact that in the 50s people must have thought a woman should never leave the kitchen. But now I realize that if I did iron, it would be convenient. Our ironing board is downstairs in the laundry room, but JB takes it into the family room to use because the lighting is better and the electrical outlet is easier to get to. Plus you can watch TV while you iron. Now that's convenience!

Spicy

Max showed me all the spices daddy has been putting into our brand new spice cabinet. "Pepper, salt, onions...pepper, mustard, salt. Um, pepper again..."

We had an ironing board there. Love these 50s houses. JB took out the board and put in little shelves. I love it! Now we can find things at a glance.

The Mole

A warning -- I blog about this only because last night while drifting off to sleep I thought it would be entertaining. You be the judge.

I have sprouted a spot on my face. I thought it was nothing, but it's slowly growing bigger, and raised. I am a moley - er, beauty marked person, and it appears a new one has appeared on my left cheek.

I did what anyone should do in these times -- I consulted doctors. Dr Sexy (JB) and Dr Smart (my sister Rebekah). JB says "Yup it's a new mole, don't worry, you're beautiful, go back to bed." Rebekah says "Well we are moley people."

I am now watching it and trying to decide if I should see an actual skin-doctor-person. I don't like the idea of a mole on my face, especially in that spot. What if it becomes like the moles on Nanny McPhee's face?

My biker

Or is it my bicyclist? Or my bike rider? But I digress. JB took part in the 25 mile bike tour on the Salt Lake Marathon route on Saturday morning. He went so fast, the boys and I didn't get to the finish line in time.

We stuck around to watch JB's sister Suzanne finish the half-marathon, in the amazing personal-best of 1:53. Crazy. She looked so good at the finish line I thought, "Shoot, why don't I try running like that?" But then Sunday when I saw her hobbling around I thought ,"Shoot, why do people run like that?!" But congrats Sue-boo. She's heading to Seattle next for another run.

By the way Max had such a fun time with the Richards when they went to Moab last month to run that half-marathon, that he can't stop talking about it. He asked Suzanne yesterday if they could stay in a hotel again. On the way home from Sunday dinner he told JB and me to go on another trip and leave him at Nona and Papa's house. Hmm.

Dream a dream

First, if you have not seen someone's email or Facebook link to this YouTube video, then go here now and watch it. Then come back and read the rest of this post.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9lp0IWv8QZY

I know why many people are getting goosebumps and teary-eyes after watching her sing. It's because we know we judged her too. It's also because deep down, we may also have a dream just like her that we pushed aside.

You saw the looks on the faces of the judges and the audience when she walked out on the stage. The way her introduction was edited you almost expect a flop -- she's never-been-kissed at 47, she lives with a cat, she is the "before" picture, etc. But then she sings and your jaw hits the ground.

Reading more about her this morning I found out she has a bittersweet story. She took care of both her parents until they passed away, and schoolkids made fun of a learning disability. She has been singing since age 12 in church and things and always wanted to be a famous singer. That's what makes the peformance so heartwarming, and the song choice so poignant -- She dreamed a dream, but now she's living it.

Makes you want to go find your dream and pursue it too, doesn't it?

Dreaming and hurling -- POST EDIT

I don't know if it was the Easter candy, the ham, or a bug but Max's tummy gave him trouble all night. By the fourth time he woke up crying and throwing up I was so sleep-deprived I yelled out, "This night sucks!"

I immediately felt bad, but you see, in between all of Max's hurling episodes I was having weird dreams. Dreams that I was trying to run through deep water while keeping my watch from getting wet. Then I was trying to meet JB for dinner on a cruise ship and I couldn't be late. When I got there I threw my watch in the air in front of him.

I don't need this dream-defining article that popped up on MSN's home page this morning to tell me that my subconscious was extremely worried about missing my alarm and being late for work this morning. I didn't miss the alarm. It rang right at 3:30 AM, 20 minutes after one of Max's trips to the toilet.

But good news this morning. He's feeling better, and I am surprisingly not too tired. Yet.


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POST EDIT
Not long after posting this I changed "This night sucks!" to "This is one of the worst nights, EVER!" The first version looked so harsh. But, in the interest of truth, it is what I said in the wee small hours of the morning.

Also, when will I learn the messy and painful lesson not to give someone too much to eat when they have a troubled tummy? Max had a hearty lunch after saying he felt much better. One hour later it all came back up.

Wicked Awesome

I have heard so much hype about "Wicked" from people who have seen it on Broadway, or through the touring production from Broadway Across America. So when I went last night I was expecting to be wowed.

Wow, wow, wow.

I knew it was the story of the witches before Dorothy dropped in, but I didn't know it continues through the story line of the movie "The Wizard of Oz." When I did a story on it this week, the company director told me it's like the camera just moved to the left about five feet.

The sets were incredible, the costumes colorful, and the special effects exciting (a little girl in front of me kept jumping when the Wizard spoke). But my favorite part was the singing of the two leading ladies.

I laughed at many lines, the lady beside me cried a few times, and we all clapped tons. It was totally worth only getting four hours of sleep before coming into work this morning.

I know the tickets are expensive and it sold out in a clock tick, but I'm going to tell everyone to try to go. It's just pure fun. Try for the ticket drawing before each performance. The orchestra seats are 25 dollars each, and didn't look too bad. I haven't been able to find out yet what the demand has been for those seats (we are only two days into the run) but I hope more people get a chance to see "Wicked."

Someone is always listening

No, I'm not talking about angels above, or the government.

I'll explain.

I missed a call from my Aunt Nancy the other morning. When I called her back she laughed and said she was putting on her jeans and bumped her cell phone and it called me.

I mentioned this to my sister, who laughed and said I accidentally call her all the time. And she hears me, too! It goes something like this:

Bekah: "Hello. Hello? Mary?"
Muffled Mary: "No Max. No. Benny come here."
Bekah: Sigh.

Since many of us carry our cell phones in our pockets, we are now wondering if this can be known as a booty call.

Updates

1) Inspiried by Carrie Ann Inaba's big, curly hairstyle last night on DWTS, I tried my own version today. My bangs went flippy instead.

2) JB found another basketball league. He played last night, as his two sons climbed all over the bleachers to their hearts' content.

3) Max played soccer on Saturday all by himself! I wasn't there, I had to help with LDS General Conference coverage at work. If I was there, do you think Max would have wanted to hold my hand again on the field? Be honest people.

4) If I did use Twitter, I would tweet about how more people tweeted about General Conference than any other subject this weekend.

5) Baseball season has begun. When I was a teenager and living in MO, I was obsessed with the St Louis Cardinals. Now I barely follow baseball anymore. But now I do follow the Utah Jazz, and am happy to see John Stockton in the Hall of Fame! I credit him for bringing JB and me together (our first date was to his retirement celebration at the Delta Center).

Basketball players

The sometimes nice weather=the boys want to play outside. This means my little Benny-the-baller wants to shoot hoops. I've never seen such a boy obsessed with it.

We lowered the hoop, and I stand on a box to lift him up.

This next picture isn't so flattering, but it shows the lengths I go to lift my huge toddler up to the hoop so he also can dunk. Too bad the ball hit the rim and came down on his head.

Basketball memories

JB's basketball seasons (church and community) have been done for a couple weeks now, but we miss watching him play. I don't miss getting caught up in the drama though. It can get rough. Thankfully I my children kept me distracted enough from turning back into the yelling wife-fan I used to be. I wonder what JB would yell if I were on a basketball team? Actually, I prefer to play volleyball, but would he yell, cheer or laugh? But I digress.

Max was good at watching. Ben, not so much. Twice he slipped through my wall of chairs and ran out onto the court.

Here is a very upset Ben, giving me dirty looks for blocking his way to the ball.

Soccer

Max had his first soccer game on Saturday. Rather, I had my first soccer game on Saturday. The boy was terrified to be alone on the field. Coach said it was ok to hold his hand and help him along.

At first we thought, what is wrong with our child? Why is he so clingy? But other moms were quick to reassure me that their first child also was nervous/shy/hesitant at their first soccer games too. They haven't seen an older sibling play. Heck, they may never have seen anyone play soccer that close. From Max's perspective it was probably like, "You want me to do what? Run around and get kicked in the shins?"

This is why I think Benny will be more than ready to play on a team when he's old enough.

By the end Max let go of my hand a few times and kicked the ball. He even took a team picture. But he wouldn't let me leave his side for the solo picture.