My own personal horror movie.

The topic of today's blog was supposed to be more of my frustrations with society. We watched a "horror" movie last night called, "One Missed Call". It's features people getting a voicemail from an evil spirit, and the voicemail basically tells how and when the people die. Now the reason why this movie was so frustrating to me, is because the fact that people are so dependent on cell phones that they were able to make a movie about it. The people in the movie never got rid of their cell phones, they would rather risk dying, then not carrying around a little piece of plastic. I write about this all the time, but is society that pathetic? Do we really NEED to carry around a phone at all times, and be connected to the internet ALL the time, or be text messaging ALL the time? I'm telling you, in a few years, social skills will disappear. No one will know how to talk to another person face to face, we're all just going to live vicariously through that obnoxious piece of technology.

BUT, that is not the topic of this blog. Like I said, last night was "Scary movie Night". We (my brother, husband, and I) watched "Disturbia" and then the phone movie. Half way through Disturbia, my brother says, "Hey, pause the movie". It gets paused and then we all start hearing some people fighting outside the window. We all rush to the window and there are four people standing outside a nearby apartment. They are all swearing up a storm, and two of them had covered their faces with red t-shirts. They were screaming at the person inside the apartment and then they started yelling something about a knife. One of the masked people, charged at the owner, and then all of the sudden, they all just took off running. They guy in the apartment came out and was carrying a large candlestick holder or something, and he ran over to the manager's apartment and pounded on the door. A few minutes later, the cops come zooming into to the parking lot... (Remember how they didn't come when Barry and I called them... VERY UPSETTING!) and they interviewed everyone, and took pictures of the two windows the mob busted, and the guy's arms... they must have hurt him. We found out from his neighbor that the people that attacked was the man's girlfriend's kids. One of the shrouded figures was actually our maintenance man's assistant! Apparently, the mom caught one of them with drugs in the apartment, so she kicked the daughter and son out of the house, and they came back for revenge on the boyfriend.

I'm a small-town girl, so witnessing something like that, with the red masks and everything, scared me out of my mind! And the fact that this happened while we were watching a serial-killer movie, didn't help all that much either. Anyway... I'm beginning to second guess the level of safety here at our complex.

The Joy of Motherhood.

I discovered something else they don't tell you about babies today. They come complete with toy-making abilities. This afternoon I was giving Grayson a bath. I was just sitting there, not really paying attention to what he was doing. When I finally looked at him, I noticed he was playing with some kind of submarine I had never seen before. I looked closer, and gasped! My child was playing with his own feces! Now I know the water was already contaminated but I pulled Grayson out of the tub and left him standing in the bathroom, buck naked, saying the mother's prayer, "Please don't pee all over the bathroom," while I'm frantically trying to rescue his toys from the underwater missile launch. After I saved the last of his toys, I looked back to see a squating Grayson, finishing his business on the linoleum.

Apparently, I prayed for the wrong thing.

Reading...

You know what I hate... reading. Well actually I love reading, but I get too... involved. I am one of those people who reads cover to cover, but with Grayson I can only read during naptimes, and late into the night. Last night I finished another book, "The Host". It's another Stephenie Meyers book, she wrote the "Twilight" series. Anyway, even when a book takes me just a day or so to read, I feel like I get too attached. Like, when I finish a really good book, I sort of get depressed, like I'm losing a friend. It was awful to read the Harry Potter series, because then I had seven book to get overly-attached, instead of just one. I wanted to cry when I finished reading those, actually, I'm pretty sure I did. But last night, after I closed the back cover of my book, I felt so sad. It was about that time that I realized... I REALLY need to get out more.

The Exorcism of Grayson Ricks

Have you ever seen 'The Exoricist"? Well, I haven't either, but I have seen the scene where the little girl spews that green goo everywhere. Grayson's not one to throw up, or even spit up... ever.





I stand corrected.





Last night, I was trying to put him to sleep and he was mad. He doesn't like going to sleep so he fought it tooth and nail. Finally I let him sit up, he looked at me, and exploded. This stream of goo shot out of his mouth. Luckily, I was there to catch it all.

THE STORY: Yesterday, I conquered the unconquerable task of cleaning my bedroom. When we are frantically trying to make the rest of the house presentable for company, our bedroom becomes the "Dumping Grounds". The place where we toss everything that doesn't have a set place anywhere else in the house. It's also our storage closet, where we just have random objects taking up lots of space, AKA our numerous laundry baskets, our giant 72 hour kit, Barry's golf clubs, etc. Yesterday, I had some time during Grayson's nap, so I decided to tackle the disaster area.

SUB-STORY: I don't mean to gross anyone out, but I hate wearing my retainer. It's very uncomfortable so yesterday morning, I popped it out of my mouth and set it on my nightstand because the bathroom was not my first stop.

BACK TO THE STORY: So as I was going through the mounds of papers that have accumulated in my night stand drawers, I made three piles. The throw away pile went in a sack, the needs-to-be-filed papers went on top of the file box, and the ones that were to go back in my drawers went on top of the nightstand, more importantly, on top of my retainer.

LATER THAT EVENING... BED TIME TO BE EXACT: I went to my nightstand to grab my retainer and saw that it was gone. I connected the dots and realized that I had thrown the stupid plastic mouthpiece away. I told Barry that I was an idiot, and threw my retainer in the garbage that Barry had taken out hours before. My husband sprang out of bed, put his shoes on and went out to the community garbage cans while I searched hopefully around our bed. Ten to fifteen minutes later, Barry walked in and held my retainer out like a trophy. Without bragging or rubbing in my silly mistake, he simply handed it to me and jokingly said, "don't forget to wash that off," and then climbed back in bed.

MORAL OF THE STORY: There's not many people out there who would go dumpster-diving for their wife. My husband is pretty much the most amazing man in the entire universe.

Ignorance is bliss...?

I had a traumatic experience with doctors when I was in the fourth grade... To make the story quick, I almost died. I think that experience has given me a life-long fear of doctors... and dentists. I have this mindset where if I have some sort of physical problem, if I wait long enough, it will just go away. It's either wait... or go to the doctor's-YIKES! About two weeks ago, I awoke to find I couldn't open my mouth very far, if I tried to open wide it would feel like someone was slamming me in the face with a hammer. I waited three days... eventually I could open my mouth, but it morphed into this horrible and constant pain. I waited about a week. Barry got sick of my waiting, so he scheduled an appointment with the dentist. I went, and the dentist seemed really surprised when he opened my mouth and found a nickel-sized abcess. He said that a piece of bone must have chipped off when they removed my wisdom teeth and now it is floating around under my skin and caused a terrible infection. Doesn't that sound lovely?

Now I don't know whether to shake my head at the surgeon who chipped my bone and add him to the list of reasons why I dislike doctors, or should I be grateful to the dentist who discovered the problem and add a point to the miniscule list of "reasons why I like doctors"? Hmmmm... Either way... I hurt. Bad.

False Advice.

There’s something they don’t tell you before you have children; they can actually be boring. Who’d of thought that the precious angel you carried for nine months to fill your days with laughter and play, could occasionally be unexciting? Grayson loves to be around Mommy, but there are times in the day where he likes to sit and play in the corner with whatever toys are available. I try so hard to sit with him and get involved, but he’s perfectly satisfied without a playmate. It makes me feel guilty and sad when I start to read or do something else to entertain myself. Whatever happened to everyone’s words of warning, “You’ll never be able to relax again!” I don’t know if your kids were different, people… but I’m over-relaxing! I thought Grayson and I were supposed to be having constant daily adventures, constantly entertaining each other and learning. But here I sit… watching my child, and I am bored.

For Sarah

Well, I usually don't do these surveys for anything but myspace but since I was the only one who got tagged (haha) I figured I better! So here you go...

Post these rules on your blog.Answer these 15 questions about yourself on your blog.List:3 joys3 fears3 goals3 current obsessions/collections3 random/surprising factsTag five people at the end of your post by leaving their names .Let them know they are tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.

3 joys:
*My family
*Musical theatre
*Finding time to read for a big chunk of time

3 Fears:
*Never finishing my degree
*Gaining more weight
*Spiders

3 Goals:
*Get my bachelor’s degree (I’m copying you Sarah!)
*Lose 30 lbs.
*Read my scriptures daily, and go to bed earlier (Trust me, these two don’t count as two different ones, they go hand in hand!)

3 current obsessions/ collections:
*writing music for the musical I’m writing (wow, what a nicely written sentence)
*Cooking Stir fry
*Photoshop (I just got it)

3 random/surprising facts:
*I am attempting to read the old testament cover to cover. And so far, I am really enjoying it.
*I keep having nightmares that I am pregnant again
*When I look through old photos, I get really depressed and sentimental and write everyone that’s in the pictures just to let them know I was looking at pictures of them. (Once again, what a wonderfully formed sentence)

Okay, I am tagging Amy Allred, Christina Kilton, Barry (Look, Now you have something to write about!), James Gardner, and Rachel Ricks!

A Streak of Joy.

Our apartment gets very hot and humid in the warm weather, so most of the time I let Grayson run around in just a diaper... well, I suppose it would be crawl around. The other day, I was doing the dishes when all of the sudden I heard laughter. I looked down and Grayson had some how managed to wriggle out of his diaper, and was just standing there laughing... not giggling, laughing. It was like he couldn't contain the happiness of just being naked. I was thinking, maybe the next time I'm in a bad mood, I'll just strip down to my birthday suit, and see what happens.