EXCITING UPDATE! Crystal Torrie's tune is revealed!

I have the result of a very serious & sneaky covert operation (see below).  The tune that Crystal Torrie's lyrics go to has been discovered.  It was surprising choice, but a very good one.

Are you ready?

Wait for it . . . . . . . .

I am pleased to announce that Crystal Torrie's "My Song" is set to Adele's "Rolling in the Deep."

Yep, now go on ahead and scroll down, find her lyrics and sing it out loud.

We were driving to the post office today.  I was trying to listen to the radio - the d.j.'s were trading stories about text message break-ups, Fisher kept asking me if I thought cats were allergic to wood, and Cassidy, I mean Torrie, was in the backseat singing away.  And then I heard it - "Hey boy, do you like me . . . . . ."  I shushed Fisher (i don't even know how to answer his cat/allergy question without opening myself up to another 50,000 questions), turned off the radio and listened hard.  She was quietly singing for a while but then started belting it out.  If I hadn't been driving, I would've tried to record it on my phone.  Next time.

Lyrics to "My Song" by Crystal Torrie

Yesterday Cassidy informed me that her stage name is now going to be "Crystal Torrie."  I asked her why she just couldn't use her real name and she told me that it just wasn't fancy enough.  When I asked her what she intended to do with her new name, she told me she was going to be a singer/song writer.

This actually cleared up a few unanswered questions I had since finding this little gem under her bed a few weeks ago.  Apparently it is one of Crystal Torrie's unpublished, never-before-seen (or heard) songs.  I have taken the liberty of not only scanning in her notebook pages, but I typed it up as well so you can appreciate it in its entirety.

And yes, I realize the song is somewhat melancholy and I didn't miss the fact that she calls me "weird" in her song - but I'm willing to overlook these grievances as long as she takes care of John and I with all her royalties.

May I present to you:

"MY SONG"

Doo Du Doo Doo Doo Doo Doo

Doo Du Doo Doo Doo Doo Doo

Hey boy, do you like me?

I am new at school.

No, what a rude answer.

I am not gonna be your friend.

Hey girl, do you like me?

I am new at school.

No, what a rude answer.

I'm not gonna be your friend.

Why doesn't anyone like me?

That's so unfair.

I wish they would change their minds

and be my friends.

I wish I could go home and be with my family.

I open my locker and everyone is staring at me.

I'm so scared.  I call my mom and she's so weird with me.

She said to home, I need to talk with you.

Its not that bad at school

I want you to go back right now.

So I stand up, I tell her about it.

She says I stay home, but tomorrow, she says -

I have to go to school.

I don't know what music these lyrics are supposed to go to.  I'm hoping that she starts singing it so I can pick up the tune. Lately, all her lyrics are either set to Lady Gaga's "paparazzi," Taio Cruz's "Dynamite," or Cat Stevens' "Moon Shadow."

I am keeping my fingers crossed that this is not the last appearance of Crystal Torrie.  I am starting to like her.  Her lyrics are so raw and honest.  Its like she's inside my head.

20,000 Leagues Under the Sea

Cassidy & Fisher have had swimming lessons every morning for the past couple weeks.  Today was our last day, and while I am relieved to not have the morning breakfast-swimming suit-sunscreen chaos, I am sad to be done.  There is something so satisfying about seeing your offspring do the front crawl the entire length of the pool after diving off the board.  Cassidy is an amazing swimmer, and Fisher shocked me right out of my skin this year by embracing this swimming stuff like a natural.  He loves jumping off the diving board and then swimming to the far end of the pool.  I give all the credit to 2 things: (1) their swim teacher, and (2) our Saturday swim days at our pool.

Their swimming teacher is amazing.  She's no-nonsense and will not cave-in with whining/crying.  She has worked with kids for a very long time and she has a sixth sense when it comes to knowing whether they are ready to be pushed to the next skill level, or whether she needs to take it more slowly.  99.9% of the time, I think she knows where this fine line is better than the parents.  I trust her completely.  She pushed Cassidy and she pushed Fisher and I AM SO GLAD.  Both of them are turning out to be little fish.  So, here's to another amazing swim lesson session!

We call these swimming shorts Fisher's "euro trunks."  Every time he wears these, I laugh out loud.  They are short and skimpy and hilarious.  And that smile?  How can you not love him?

Pinterest is Feeding My PVC Pipe Addiction

Check out this sweet creation:

And no, I cannot take credit for it.  Again, this is a pinterest find.  Armed with my pvc pipe cutters (amazing) I finished this project in like 20 minutes.  The rack works really good too.  Even adult bikes.

All the neighbors are jealous of my mad pvc skills.

Open Letter Regarding the PARADE

The 24th of July Parade.  Also known as the "lets-celebrate-the-pioneers-and-simultaneously-rip-everyone else's-head-off-parade."

Dude.  Can I just say how out of hand things have gotten?  Let me begin by saying that I really like parades.  They bring the community together and they showcase (or they're supposed to) the local goings-on.  I LOVE celebrating the armed services.  I love waving and yelling thank you to all the veterans.  I think it is a wonderful teaching opportunity for my kids.  

I just have one problem with the parade: EVERYONE ELSE.

The rules state that you cannot reserve your spot until 7:00am the day of the parade.  When I first read the rules, I thought that it meant you couldn't reserve your space until 7:00am the day of the parade.  Boy, was I wrong.  

Instead, people reserve spaces to reserve their spaces.  So, the prime-time real estate is the park strip, right?  So what everyone does, starting up to 2 days (seriously?) before the parade - they place chairs, blankets, ropes and yes, sometimes even police tape, on the private property located on the other side of the park strip/sidewalk.  Please see my amazing picture.  No, I am not for hire.

After they place their crap on the private property, they happily go home to begin training for the big day.  As early as 5:30am on the big day, they arrive to their spot.  They start hovering.  Nobody dares to step foot on the parkstrip before 7:00am.  Everyone is a little over-tired and crabby.  If a stranger EVEN THINKS ABOUT  encroaching on their space that they have not reserved, but they are actually reserving: watch out.  Certain death will follow.

Take the summer of 2010 for instance.  I woke up at 6:30am on the big day.  Certainly enough time to put on some clothes, grab some shoes and sling a few campchairs over my shoulder while I ride my bike up and around the block to secure a spot for the parade.  WRONG.

Main street looked like Grand Central Station the day before Christmas.  Cars lined the street on either side.  Everyone acted skittish and totally strung out on Pioneer Day euphoria.  One dude looked like he was packing heat and wouldn't be afraid to use it, if necessary.

I biked for about another block and spotted a 2 foot long area on the park strip without any blankets, chairs, etc.  I beelined right for it.  Out of nowhere this random dude stops me and tells me that he was actually just about ready to put his stuff there.  He hadn't gotten to it yet, because he was too busy putting his other 400 chairs out.  I politely told him that I was going to put MY stuff there.  He became angry and rude and finally thew his hands up and walked away while muttering a very impolite string of curses.  

Later that day I took my little family of 4 (Max wasn't around yet) and we watched the parade.  After the hassle of the chairs, I was expecting (hoping?) the parade to be awesome.  Instead, it had over 225 entries, which equates to about 2.5 hours.  Most of the entries were for house cleaning, yard maintenance, pest control, car dealerships, different dance companies, a few karate studios, a couple marching bands, etc.  Oh yeah, don't forget the scary clowns that seemed to be everywhere.

DUDE.  I did not just battle the crazy vulture parade nut jobs to get handed a flyer about the "local" business that will come shovel my dog's poo for $15/week.  Oh wait, yes I did.

The whole way home I told myself that I would NEVER attend another parade.  But then I went back on my word and attended the parade last week.  My nephews were in it and I wanted to support the cause.  Much to my horror - everything wrong with the parade was much, much worse this time around.  Everyone I came across was so rude.  So ready to freak out.  While the total number of entries was much smaller (around 80), it still included so many random businesses and not hardly enough candy.

In my humble opinion, a hometown parade should include the following:

(1) Veterans.  Always veterans.  They are heroes and need to be celebrated.  

(2) The community's emergency response teams.  Fire engines, police on motorcycles, ambulances, etc.

(3) Local high schools.  SBO's.  Marching bands, drum lines, color guard, cheer learders, drill teams, etc.

(4) Local churches.   I love seeing their interpretation of the parade's theme come out in their floats.

(5) Local charities.  Food banks, etc.

(6) A whole bunch of candy being thrown to the little ones.

The key word is local.  The parade needs to celebrate our town.  Our people.  Our accomplishments.  NOT be free advertising.  Kids don't care about it.  Parents don't care about it.  If I needed a great place to get my car washed, I would ask friends/neighbors.  

And the feverish, out of control tempers that are always present while reserving/saving spaces is unbelievable.  We are celebrating our city's heritage, the pioneers that sacrificed so much to settle this land - and here we are ready to choke the person next to us because they put their chairs 3 inches too close to ours?  Give me a break.  Its a little embarrassing really.

I have an idea.  This is going to sound a little crazy - but how about next year actually enforcing the "no reserving spaces" rule?  How about telling people to show up for the parade right before it starts?  Sitting down next to your neighbors and getting to know them better.  Moving back so the little kids have plenty of room to see the floats.  Celebrating our community - not coming home with 75 fliers for random crap.  How about having floats that actually reflect the accomplishments of the community?

The parade wasn't worth hassle and I think that sucks.  I wanted to love it.  I wanted my kids to love it.  Instead, they were shoved around and yelled at by complete strangers.  We're not going back.  Next year, we'll go to the carnival during the parade.  We'll have our pick of the rides and activities.  I will get my Navajo Fry Bread in 4 minutes instead of 40.  We'll have a pleasant family outing that won't involve angry parade spectators.  We will celebrate our pioneers the right way.

PVC Pipe - its the new boondoggle

Oh yeah buddy.

I found a marshmallow pvc gun on pinterest and decided I absolutely needed to make some.  So I went to Home Depot and picked up some pvc pipe and some pvc pipe cutters.  I don't know who invented the pvc pipe cutters - but they deserve the nobel peace prize.  Those are so much fun to use.  They ratchet while they cut through the plastic.  What more could you ask for?  With that baby in my hand, I feel unstoppable.

Anyway, I made the guns.  And then I bought mini-marshmallows.  Obviously, I did not think this project through from the beginning all the way to the end.  The end being me, picking up 7,000 marshmallows.  Everywhere.  I thought that going outside would be the answer.  No - it just made the marshmallow-picking-up-chore about 4 times longer and 5 times hotter.

I keep reminding myself that its really fun for the kids, and that they are playing together (albeit they are shooting each other, but that counts, right?) and they're not watching tv.  However, if I see one more marshmallow on the ground, I might go postal.

Here is Fisher's modification.  Its actually like 4 guns put together.  And when you get hit in the face with a marshmallow coming from this gun, IT WILL leave a welt on your cheek.  For like a couple of days.  And people WILL look at you like you have a hickey on your cheek.  At church.

Oh, little Max.  Precious little Max.

J's cousin brought his cow roping dummy to J's family reunion last weekend.  I saw it outside and dragged it in, thinking it would be a distraction for Max so I would have 4 consecutive minutes of not insanely running around chasing him.

What I didn't realize was that this cow dummy would prove to be the love of M's life.

He climbed on this thing, hugged it, kissed it on the nose, etc.  He wouldn't leave it alone.  Until the older reunion participants started roping it.

ALL HELL BROKE LOOSE.

The first time J's cousin roped it, Max screamed out loud.  The second time - Max not only screamed, but started shaking his fists.  The poor little dude was so upset that people were hurting his buddy.  He sat on my lap and bawled while he watched his friend get roped and pulled all around the room.  Every time the lasso would tighten around the cow's neck - he would just shake and the tears would roll down his cheeks.

It was like 20% heartbreaking and 80% hilarious.

I'm seriously considering making one of these for Max's christmas present.  And since I have officially dubbed myself the queen of PVC pipe projects (more on this in an upcoming post) all I need is some pvc pipe, a blue print and a plastic cowhead.  So, if you know anyone selling a plastic cow head, let me know.

J's uncle accused me of raising a "tree hugger."  I just told him that maybe Max was Hindu in his past life.