Yada, Yada, Yada, Let's Talk About Facebook to Slammin Princess Phones~How The Enlightment of Everchanging Communication Cults Help Change The World"

Communicating does bring on a certain cultish behavior in our society....we worship the object that does our communicating for us, we are slaves to however it beckons to us, we trust it will NEVER fail us and we are so lost when it does, and we either bolt to the next trend that is supposed to help us talk even more OR we refuse to just move on from our favorite outdated talky tool.

The talking gamut is jammed like a museum with Facebook, Yearbooks, Scrapbooks, Origami For Letter Writers, Slam Books, Slammin Princess Phones, Cell Phones, Franklin Planners, Palms, BlackBerries, Email, ChainLetters, Holiday Family Letters, Blogging and Twitter Tweeting. Ponder on that....then think quick! Can you name the 2 of the above items that I have not dabbled in or become outright obsessed with as a way to exchange dialogue with? HMMMM....give up?

1. Origami For Beginners...no, no, no, sorry, I have to yank that one after all. Looking back to my tadpole years, I used to fold up paper into these fun little finger thingies that were numbered on the corners. These amazing works of paper art would also serve as a makers of assured destiny for my friends, all based on whatever number was chosen. Then in Jr. High and High School, the skill of writing 2-4 letters per class period was one I mastered very well at the simple request of a"Write Me" as my friends and I would scurry down the halls before that darn tardy bell would move us along our day. Those notes of vital importance had to be folded just so...it was a security measure disguised as intricate art...Martha Stewart could have taken a lesson in stationary folding from us and we never needed her special folding bone tool either!



Ok....so which one are you still guessing? What is the one thing, the one option I have not yet added to my portfolio of yakking mediums? Give up? I am a Tweeter virgin. What in the Sam Hill am I waiting on? Tweeting has to beckon to me the way Facebook did for about 2 years & so I am playing hard to get.


Honestly, "tweeting" has a weird genesis with me that is not a fond memory. It was the first week of November of 2008. Anyone remember what was going on in the world? I was loosing way too much shut-eye....and what did I do to relax? I roamed all over the weird unknown channel offerings the night before the election until I landed on a channel that openly promoted itself as a liberal outlet. I felt like a spy! I felt ticked! I felt like I may never sleep again from worry! I felt beaten before the election (I know, I know, I know... I admit I was totally in that river of the Nile, saying "Just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming, swim, swim...") because it was an ominous reality check that from a technical position, my candidates of choice were not engaged with young new voters. It was here that I heard the word "tweet" for the first 2 times in my life. One person wanted young voters to tweet what was going on out in the field as a way to rally the troops and another was a Black Panther who wanted tweets on all things racial on election day. It was a very sick feeling of defeat that left me incredibly cross and even blaming myself for the final outcome to some degree. That is just about ridiculous to many that I would feel that burdened but be of good cheer, I am using this blog to officially get over it already.

But before doing that, let's take things down a notch or too...and have a little fun, shall we? Let's troll through the deserts of our minds as we look back at all the ways we have tried and tested to simply speak to one another. We are a funny & persistent bunch.

Some notables from my personal archives:

• SlamBooks ~ A spiral notebook with a sign-in page and number assignment for your VBFFs, as in "Very Best Friends Forever!". Each page had a different title and participants were to sign their number and their well thought out response to that title.

For example, one page might read something like this for me in 7th grade:
"Would you consider scraping someone's head with your nails as a way to get attention?"

"#7. Better Get Cha Some! Like totally, ok? Oh my gosh, when I see Coach fur shur he'll think like I am so way funny and cute when I scrape his head! Ummm, what if this turns out to be a total gag-me with a spoon moment & like, I get Coach's scalp skin under my nails! Oh My Gosh, that would be so grossy-gross! I am not using my nails, no way! My metal goody hairbrush will do the the trick! This is going to be so tubular!" By the way, can I like borrow someone's kissing potion lipgloss? Love Ya'll Like A Sister!

• Slammin Princess Phones~mine was baby blue and slept in my bed every night....and slammed like no other.


• Yearbooks~I spent time this summer with my best friends from school, Devon, Heather and Trina, scouring over the pages of Aquila 1984, all I can say is what were we thinking? And I could say it again and again and again...Truly, the miracle of sharpies has made it possible to even show my yearbook to my children.
• Cell Phones~well that really started with pagers. But when I got my first brick, someone called me a rich yuppy. I remember feeling like I had arrived and promptly went out and spent $250.00 on Serengeti sunglasses to look the part. What a gullible idiot I was! But then a merge of information and dialogue starting taking place thanks to....
• Franklins, Palms, Blackberries~ all tools of the trade to organize all of my life complete with who to talk to and what hour of the day to schedule talking. I still have my Dooney & Burke Franklin binder that my boss gave me as a new sales rep. for LS & Co...and now I get all Kenny's hand-me-down electronic organizers. Still need to load that Palm device & use it just once, after all, Sparky has had it charged up for me going on 3 years now. I find that he taunts me with that "crack"berry and so I steal it when he drives, looking up random stuff on the Internet while we run errands together, because I can. Whenever Kenny does finally get an IPhone...I will be a force to be reckoned with again~minus the stupid sunglasses purchase!
• Chain letters, Family Holiday letters and Scrapbooks~sharing vehicles of intimidation. Really, I promise that I do want to partake in the catching up and bragging on my kidlets, & I swear I am planning on forwarding 2 prs. flip-flops or recipes at some point of life to 20 of my closest friends. Surely, I must scrapbook at some point because there are tubs reaching the ceiling that are filled with enough scrapbooking supplies to stock a Hobby Lobby. In tandem with all of the really cool scrapbooking stuff I own is the reason for scrapbooking. Also stacked to the ceiling are mementos from just about every day of my children's lives. The history of 4 kids ages 6 to almost 15...all waiting on me. Plus, if you have ever sent me a card or given me a billion dollar check, I have it in a bin, box or bag, also begging to be immortalized in a scrapbook. Or crapbook as Sparky likes to say. All I know is I have gargantuan guilt thanks to such gorillas on my back. Oye-Vay.
• Email.~I hate email...more like e-stale. In a word....BORING!
• Facebook and blogging~ For a rookie writer, these 2 forums are honestly, extremely addictive for me. Sometimes, I admit, I beg for an intervention. But most of my time it is like sticking me in a shoe store and saying "Wear all you want LeLe...after all, you must wear shoes!" If I were a guy, it would be the equivalent to working for ESPN. However, this summer I had no laptop....do you know how much I can get done if I am not attached to this appendage???? Is there no mercy of balance???? For someone who tauts free agency as a gift, I am an admitted zombie in the zone when it comes to using this compilation of metal & magic to communicate with just about anyone I have ever met in my entire life. What a cool time to live because we can talk about so much...for so very long...until someone needs me to do something, like be the mom! Oh, is it 2am already?

Now back to my serious side. Want to know why I was so cross with myself back in November? It was BFB & BB (before Facebook and before Blogging) for me. I was already so over email as a an effective way to reach out. So, I let APATHY just plop right down in my life and it brought it's BFF, COMPLACENCY to join us for Slacker-Fest. And yet, our country and democracy is so important to me, so my actions (or lack of) did not make any sense, especially given that I like sharing my views, I like asking questions and I like learning from others, especially when it comes to politics. I crave the equality, the responsibilities, the awareness, the doing that comes along a healthy tenet of being an American citizen. By 2004 I had engaged & my focus was to improve my children's school district, so I cannon balled right dab in the middle of the School Board election and helped elect not just 1, not just 2 but 3 candidates. In 2006 & 2007, I poured my heart, soul and husband into a school bond election because I knew it was what my children needed from us to do for them. Never mind that I thought I might collapse from exhaustion and have the physical scars of being drug down a retention pond by my Portuguese Water Dog while grass rooting on the phone with the head of our local Chamber of Commerce. My purpose was before me and I was a doer to the best of my abilities. That era let the genie out of her bottle and I became a better person because of it. Not everything I touched turned to gold...my zealot passion for PTO's that are ethical and true to purpose, is still my personal holy grail!

But with the election of 2008, you would think I could have been found doing all that I should to support issues that are fundamentally a part of who I am....you would think I would have used my marketing experience for all it is worth...you would think I could have at the very least, talked to my peers more to encourage myself and encourage them to get involved. You would think I would have made myself available and tapped into the heavily populated pool of young adults I am blessed to be surrounded with well before election day. But no, my fair share did not go beyond taking my kids with me when I went to vote. Shame on me. But I am forgiving myself.

I want to close this post with another post. I have permission to share the following by it's author, whom I only know as a blogger named "Keep The Change" who posted on a 8/13 thread from Glenn Beck's link from Fox.

Keep the Change says:
August 13, 2009 at 8:24 pm
"Everyone keeps asking this question so here is a little true story for all of those who wonder how this man became the leader of the free world. I have a college age daughter. She is a conservative on most issues, but has a very loving heart and accepts as friends, those who are also good people, regardless of their political beliefs. One day she overheard me exclaim “How on earth did this man become president?!”“Well mom, if my friends are any indication let me tell you that, (The following are not real names)Stephanie voted for him because he was just ‘Sooooo adorable’, Jeffry voted for him because he was taller than Mc Cain, Joe voted for him because he likes basketball and Lauren voted for him because she just liked feeling included in the whole blackberry/texting thing.” These are all students in a very prominent college. I know most of their parents and they would be appalled to know the methodologies of their child’s selection for the highest office in the land. People, teach your children well, the other side sure is!"

I think what this blogger said is profound and underscores what I also know to be true.

After the initial comment, there is some follow-up from me and others, which you can look up if you are so inclined by copying/pasting the link here:

http://glennbeck.blogs.foxnews.com/2009/08/13/the-radicals-on-the-left-want-you-to-shut-up/comment-page-1/#comments

Suffice it to say, the exercise of forgiving myself is more than building a bridge and leaving my mistakes behind, crossing the bridge means = learning from my mistakes. In this case, not going back to the other side of that bridge where my nemeses known as APATHY and COMPLACENCY wait to drag me under the bridge, WILL enable me to "change" the outcome of my family's future. "Hope" fully, you get my point.

I love my children and this God-given country of ours enough to choose the better part of what I can offer from this day forward, by being the "Talking Do-Er".

One goal I have as an engaged mother is to include talking to and with my own children about my role as a citizen, thus teaching them along the way. I know it takes more than just telling them who I vote for, it means I really do need to explain the essentials of my political idealogy that guide my path, much like the North Star. Maybe then when my life here is complete, my own children will remember me to the liking of how Maria Shriver eulogized her own beloved mother, as "Momentum On Wheels" rather than someone who just liked to hear herself speak!

_______________________________________________________

"I Finally Get The Parable of The 10 Virgins, A Mother's Tribute"
Oye Vay. My blue spell has had me vexed in a bad way. Guilt on the other hand, is the color of brown, like a big brown boulder. When I have a big brown boulder strapped to my back because I can't keep up with what would take 16 Flyingmonkeymothers to keep up with, well, tacking on "Mother's Day" to my list is just cruel. Truly, the thought of taking the time to take this day off was NOT my way of relaxing. Recently, I stated that by the end of this May, the risk is high that I will spontaneously combust, leaving a pile of blue and brown ashes. April & May are 2 months that I schedule myself to dread, these 60 days are just naturally overly busy, no? Such whining contradicts with all that I love about this season, I love to garden; I love the symbolism of Spring; I love the Savior and I love being told by my children "Happy Mother's Day, Mommy, you are my very best mommy in the whole wide world!...Here are your hug, kiss and chore coupons for the year...use them wisely!"

So what in the Sam Hill was my deal? What could make me feel all blue & brown? Why am I allowing these blue & brown feelings to shackle me & steal my joy to the point that I have NOT been myself for several weeks?


Ummm....I can't tell you right here. Well, I can, just not via the internet medium. To do so, would be in a word, stupid.


Ugh, this particular season has been harder to navigate than others I have survived. Why? Well...like I already said, that's not a bloggable subject. It's not that it's private, it's just not bloggable...because really, it's not anything funny or uplifting, but it is discouraging. Now, if you and I have talked in person, chances are good you are sighing with relief that I choose to not blog the details of what pains me right now. And if you and I have not spoken about the "Why" to my recent cause of angst?
....Just trust me on this one.

Consequently, I am not at my writing best....or as Kevin says, "scribble-scrabble". The joy I normally feel when I am internally urged to write was tabled. There has been no time for writing, since writing for me, is a seemingly single treat of serendipitous escapades.

You can always tell when something negative has my hyperfocused attention. I lose 5-10 pounds. My eyes have that glazed over.."Hello...Is anyone in there?" look. For me, I can always tell when something has a hold because as much as I would like to sleep, sleep I cannot.

I cannot sleep because all I want to do is put on my big girl drawers, grab a shovel & start building the bridge from ...."a difficult and painful place to be stuck" to a"good choices begating good feelings" destination. Such was the case of this Mother's Day morning at 2:38am. I laid staring at the ceiling, then the wall, then the doorway, then the bathroom, then the bookshelf, then my desk, then the TV. My laptop escaped my stares....it lay quietly safe in the living room.

I thought about getting up and snagging some much needed pewdur (another Kevin word) time...but another tell-tale sign of me being "in the zone" is apparently I take subconscious leave of my favorite cult known as Facebook. However, this facebooker has ADHD, & the last thing I need, most of the time, is any more snap. I knew better than to touch my laptop with if my goal was to catch even just a few zzz's.

The thought of penning all that was riding my nocturnal brainwaves showed up on my ticker-tape but a wise voice firmly reminded me in my listening ear that such stimulation was not on the agenda at 2:39 am.

My sorda read here-and-there books beckoned me from the bookshelves next to my bedroom door to the point that I allowed myself to be tempted. Making out titles in the dark, I thought, "how weird that I am seriously considering writing for more than just the love of it in the near future, and yet, personally, I really do not love to read"...OUCH! Reading tends to make me tired and I get bored easily...another ADHD thang. Perfect choice for my zombie state, right? Wrong. It would have backfired as I kept reaching for my many Stephen Covey's and all the other leadershipish type books, crud.....Negatory Ghost-Writer....I'd been like an alcoholic bellied up to the bar with any of those reads....not what I needed. I needed sleep for the love of Petey.

So I moved past the bookshelves...to the doorway...to the living room feeling relief as I picked up the remote. My justification came from the surety that watching the latest mobster bio, or another history piece on the fall of the Roman empire, or C-SPAN, or the umteenth documentary on addictive substances, I would drift off to "LaLa LeLe Land" so grateful for my blessings. Skipping and dipping through the gazillion U-Verse channels, I actually landed in the spiritual range of channels that I very often find myself. I am fascinated by Potter's House, Rod Parlsey, some blond pastor femme fatale who makes Joyce Meyer look like a evangelical powderpuff and the H-town team, Joel & Victoria Olsteen. Finding the jovial nun on TV reminds me of "The Sound Of Music" ( I relish the scene where the nuns must confess to the Reverend Mother that they snagged some needed engine piece to the Nazi's cars! What a savory sin to cough up!) and she is so charming to me. I often wonder if any of my Catholic friends watch this Sister and smile.

With all the spiritual banquet I have to offer myself via the telly, my very favorite place to fall asleep is BYUTV. Not because it's the boring equivalent to Ambian, but because when something is genuinely troubling me, like what has troubled my heart and mind of late, nothing soothes me more, relaxes me and helps me gain needed perspective like finding a great talk being given on BYUTV. (Note to self...do this at the first sign of trouble....rather than waiting a month!)

Mother's Day morning at 3am I watched a talk by someone whose name escapes me right now, and she was speaking about the amazing, those named and un-named, women found in my scriptures. The gospels of the Old Testament & New Testament of the Holy Bible teach of incredible women of faith beginning with the beloved Eve, who I would love to wish a "Happy Mother's Day" to. While there are only 3 named women in the Book of Mormon, the very human Sariah, the willing Abish and the maligned Isabel, there are 2000 valiant young striplings who openly gave due honor for their committed mothers. In the Pearl of Great Price we are able to learn so much more of courageous Eve. And, in modern day LDS church history, there are women who sacrificed much more than just their silks and china for their beliefs, such as Emma Hale Smith & Eliza R. Snow, who are forever mine to look up to in the Doctrine & Covenants.

Letting my blue and brown issues fall to the floor, I fell asleep as my mothers of yesteryear rocked me to sleep.

My own Mother's Day has been improved dramatically in recent years by the likes of Marjorie Pay Hinckley, Sheri Dew, Anita Canfield, Mary Ellen Edmunds & Julie Beck, who are all in my current fav five of healthy and worthy examples of motherly women.

In my world, there are many, many, many women who are gifts with their presence. Lucky me. Perhaps you are a mormon mama too or perhaps you are not of my own faith, regardless, do you know I look up to you and adore your shining example? You may have children whom you did not give birth to, you may have babies yet to come here, or Heavenly Father may have yours by his side while you pine to see them again. You may have a gaggle about you or you may have just one. With so many of your maternal choices to help me along my way, making me a better mommy for Dylan, Derek, Cade and Kev. Thank you for showing me why the Lord could trust each of you in these tender yet crucial positions. Charles Dickens wrote, "Tis Not A Small Thing When Those So Fresh From God, Love Us". I believe this completely!

I love that I am a teachable soul who is placed in the midst of women of character, spunk, and dogged determination to make this world a better nest for their little chickadees. By providing a world where our babies learn well why they must spread their own wings in order to survive the fall of their maiden flights, they will have much to sing about while they soar again and again.

From this day forward, Mother's Day will be more than just a date to get through & I want to sincerely celebrate it from now on. Only, not by designing a new line of mylar decorations to fill a niche in the Hobby Lobby market. It is a day that my own mother-in-law should have her feet kissed by me for giving me her son, thereby changing my life to a life worth living. I want to celebrate motherhood because it gives me the chance to be just like the Candy Man and make the world a better place for you and me. I want to look at the calendar in April and May with wiser eyes....enjoy the journey.....and be of good cheer. If I will choose to love the mayhem, my children will understand I wanted to be their mother, I signed up for this job & would sign up again with a willing heart and knowing mind. Being a daughter of God, the role of mother is sacred to me. Looking forward, if my children can recount without a shred of doubt that they each are the very oil in my lamp and if they show their wives that know how to clean a toilet, then I'll be confident that I did accomplish all that was really supposed to be on my to-do list as a mom.

Wow...I think the blue and brown funk is leaving the building....GOOD RIDANCE!

Multitasking At My Best Means Writing and Sleeping At the Same Time"

"I'm so tired, I haven't slept a wink. I'm so-oo tired, my brain is on the blink"...I love how The Beatles take me from one end of the spectrum to the other with this great song. The words are just dragging & dragging, then it revs and boom! I'm slapping at my steering wheel. This is a quintessential analogy of how the need to sleep is both a burden and a beloved pleasure in my world.

Par for moi, I cannot make up my mind. Right now...I really love going night-night. In fact, I would love to crater right this very second. However if I did and kept right on typing...that would too weird, even for me.

You may already be aware of this, but I have been known to fall asleep while typing or writing...or even talking for that matter.

Such a practice may have an impact on what job or jobs I end up pursuing in the near future. (Please see the last blog post titled "My Dream job Was Knitting Caps Out Of Dryer Lint& What Do I Want To Be When I Grow Up?" if you want to give me your opinions of what we are mulling over) Perhaps establishing some controls to prevent "sleep chatting" from ever taking place again would be prudent. I CANNOT allow my alter ego to go on convincing me that there is just no rest for the weary & that going without sleep repeatedly is a necessary evil & that I will eventually catch up, so buck up!

This multitasking oddity might be contrived from having started over too many times in Genesis to the point that I keep re-reading that certain part about "In the beginning" & my prideful self proclaims "I too can do it all in 6 days and then I will rest"! Certainly flawed and certainly not omnipotent, admittedly, I am just a mere mortal, who loves to climb into bed, bone tired at 8:30pm and crash by 9ish! I soooo relish those rare occasions!

But alas, I know me & when I am really focused...I mean HYPERFOCUSED on some crucial undertaking, then sleep is such a pain in my back side & such a waste of my precious time. Nevermind that by being well rested, surely I could increase the quality and production output of whatever will not wait another 6-8ish hours...nevermind that I get loopy & punchy & cannot complete a sentence....there are just those times when I am too excited about what I am doing and CANNOT wait to get back to it. Do I fret about my other responsibilities which are still on my plate...Indeed Not! Whatever I choose to do in my life is only chosen to somehow benefit my entire family, hence everyone of the Christie Chrew pitches in when the radar is on & the sights set. Roses may be trying to "bloom beneath our feet" but the Christie Chrew has a job to do too!

However, reason simply must trump enthused rationale these days in my post 40+years of wisdom & waning immaturity. Because when I hit the wall and start conversing while REM-ing...it is NEVER a good thing. The finished product might be awkwardly funny....but it is a considerable gamble. Please, no one would ever be so foolish as to hire..."Mrs. Needs No Sleep"!

The real genesis of this bad habit started when I was a youngin'. I would lay in bed and chat away with myself and my 2 imaginary friends, Kay & Lori, for hours. Then when I was a teeny-bop, carefully, slyly, I would sneak my light blue princess phone into my bed at night to talk for hours to a fellow teeny~bop, probably Trina, Devon, or Heather, and I was like all "totally gag me with a spoon & groady to the max; wow, that is so rad maybe it's even, like, totally tubular...for sure..." then I'd flatline, wake up to the laughter on the other side of the phone and actually be groadied out to the max from drooling all over myself!

Then once in my twinkies, I was the passenger of a fellow Levi's associate Mary Helen, who was gratefully, the driver. While she was booking to our next stop, I was to pen our findings at the last mall we spiffed and then "Umph, umph, whoa!...what happened?" I woke myself up to my Mary Helen's howling laughter at me, me drooling on her seatbelt & me scribbling all over my very cute chambray sailor britches.

In recent years I have managed to garner a reputation from composing emails that I was awake for when I started typing but not so much by the time I hit "send". This phenomenom has taken place during such stints as the election campaign which I help run for Lisa N. & 2 other school board members; my tenure as Young Women's President at my church & again while dabbling a rhyming diddy for a baby shower invite I created for Chris & Anna L., only to conclude that I must have truly concocted some kind of bizarro invitation because after reading it, Mike S. asked if I had listened to Pink Floyd's "Dark Side of the Moon" over & over again in my youth.
(BTW, yes to that last question, I still love to listen to that classic release! But not while I am trying to communicate! Good night, I can't have any pudding... I mean I can't concentrate on talking and listening to Pink Floyd at the same time! I know my limitations!)

The picture of the book posted here is proof is another fine example of my talent for muiltitasking by corresponding and catching a few Zzzz's simultaneously.

I gave this exact children's book to my darling Ad (pronounced A.-D.) several years ago. At the time she was our treasured babysitter on a full time basis and she was simply amazing. Kidlet tossing his cookies? No worries if Ad was on the clock. Need dinner cooked? Chef Ad with Le Menu was at my service or even better...she would go through the drive-thru for me with my debit card only to end up paying for the order herself after I gave her the wrong pin #. Sadly, Ad fell short of attaining perfection when she gave my then toddler his very first Diet Dr. Pepper...in his bottle & ruined him. But I digress.

Due to my genuine regard & appreciation for Ad's nanny abilities, I really wanted to cement my impressions of her on the inside cover of this book and present it, with love, that beautiful Christmas morning.

Only...it was already Christmas morning when I began to write.

As best as I can make out from the picture of the inside cover...I wrote the following:

"Just like a fish to the sea I have found myself more and more impressed with your abilities withe our lack on a vehicle...and thaht date were _____________(long pause) you have the "pip" if the day you will need to ask somewart------What????Oh my, I fell asleep. Gotta go-I love you! Leah"

You know I was not in my right mind if I signed something that personal with a salutation other than "LeLe".

Nighty Night!

"What Do I Want To Be When I Grow Up" & "My Dream Business Was Knitting Caps Out Of Dryer Lint"

What to do....what to do....what to do....

My first job as a Flying Monkey Mother is to be the mother I need to be to my 4 monkeys...I mean...my 4 sons. I signed up for my gaggle willingly & I intend to do this job full-time to the best of my abilities.

Stop laughing.

However, after some personal reflections, Kenny & I are satisfied with the reasons to take a leap of faith and take the thought bubble of again being gainfully employed to the next level. My spare time these days is spent at the perpetual job fair that goes on in my head asking myself "What do I want to be when I grow up?"

This ADD thing is kinda cool at times! It has help me come up with a long list of options for us to mull over. Given the way my brain works, I invent stuff constantly or come up with another way to do things. The J.O.B. possibilities are intriguing for someone who as a young girl, knew two of my dream jobs included knitting caps out of dryer lint and making furniture out of whittled landscaping bark.

This particular blog snippet is your golden opportunity to help shape the next chapter in our lives by offering your feedback to my pile of employment ideas by giving me your feedback, no matter what it might be.

What are my talents to offer potential employers and/or customers? I walked away from that chapter of corporate life with a love & firm understanding of:

1.Customer Service

2. Sales

3. Marketing

When it was time to halt my 15 years of retailing that ran the spectrum of production, delivery and point of sales of products, I may have left Levi Strauss & Co. but my skills did not leave me nor did they get put on hiatus. As the last chapter of my life has unfolded, to my surprise, I have applied those 3 acquired tools to some very unique experiences that have come my way since being at home full time. Now, not only do I still love the dynamics of customer service, sales & marketing, these personal strengths have become refined and authenticated in my own real world.

I need to be home-based. Period. It is my schedule that will have to change. My first priorities, all 4 of them....are still my children. The older they get, the more they need me here at home when they are home. Thus, the desire to go into law enforcement is just not realistic.

Stop laughing.

Yes, I need to establish a actual home office ...but I have done it before and I can do it again.

Yes, I may need school for a few of the brainstorms below.

Yes, I realize I will have less time to volunteer. But I know the in & outs of volunteering now and know I can still contribute.

Yes, I know this change would mean less time for my millions of home projects...but the dirty truth is that my home improvement projects demand 2 critical elements to see completion dates: $ for a hired hand(or 2 or 3 or 4) and $ for materials. Watching HGTV and DIY for hours on end only confirms to me constantly that I have the need & ability to create...but I have found no cash in the attic.

HMMMM.......

What I hope you will do is give me some solid feedback either here or via email on my list of ideas for me, Kenny and the my boy chrew to noodle on:

• Getting into politics (not me in an elected office...but going to work for what I believe in, maybe Glenn Beck needs field support and just does not know it yet!)
  

• Looking into positions with The Tomball Chamber of Commerce (I love my town!)
  

• Writing on-line newspaper column/magazine complete w/ classifieds

• Starting a consulting company for parents in school districts....encompassing the education foundation ideas we had to put on ice for TISD this year

• Starting a customer service consulting firm.

• Becoming a professional gardener (really...the goal would be a "Master" Gardener)

• Representing companies whose products I personally love & use
  

• Developing an on-line personal gift service

• Earth Quest Dino Park Marketing (I have 4 boys that think this idea totally rocks!)

Did I leave something out?

Penny for your thoughts!

****Special Edition Posting: My Best Friend's Obsession With Expired Dairy Products

Why does someone who claims to love me routinely try to poison me with expired dairy products? For someone so knowledgeable...Carolyn once tried to convince me that unopened whipping cream that expired in August could be used because it did not smell and had only been opened recently. When did this take place? Thanksgiving a couple of years ago. Me and Kev know differently though. We learned the hard way that "no smell" can indicate spoilage past the point of the tell-tale smelly soured sign. And I can still taste that nastiness on my tongue. Kevin really had a hard time believing whipped cream could be the stuff of merriment for children of all ages for a very long time. I got over my fear of whipping cream all too quickly.

Then there was the time that her daughter, Alli, who was 8 when this next episode happened, sat down with me to enjoy together our bowls of cereal one morning when Carolyn was in the hospital. She had her sugar coated crunchy, puffy fluff and I had the expensive granola from some family owned grain mill snuggled up in the hinterlands of some Utah mountain. Alli and I simultaneously took that first bite together. Right as the granola rolled around enough to let me get my gagging reflex to completely take over, Alli beat me to the verbal observation and said "This milk taste funny". I said, "Ya think?" as I hauled to the sink to scrape the grit and chunky milk out of my mouth. I then had to explained her mother was trying to kill me.

I have made it a practice to check the dairy any time I get ready to cook in the Edmond kitchen and if Carolyn is around, the fur flies. But I win and pitch anything questionable. Just ask her sister, Cathy.

However, I think Carolyn has moved on from dairy and on to any food items normally and wisely found store at proper temperatures in the refrigerator. She asked Kenny just last December "Do you think it's any good?" as she held up an unopened package of bacon that she discovered under something in the pantry. She was not real sure how many days it had been there...When Kenny was able to speak again, he told her 'NO!"...and then she attempted to reason with him because bacon is cured...and surely that counted for something....

Since we did not end up with food poisoning....you can conclude that Kenny overpowered Carolyn and pried the unopened pork out of her hands and properly disposed of the pig.

HMMMMM......maybe she is trying to tell me something????When it comes to Carolyn, I often describe myself as a "stray cat she fed at the back door once".....Oh dear, the insecurity is setting in already.

What In The Sam Hill Is A “Flying Monkey Mother?"

Here is the skinny version~

It's All Relevant

Starting with this particular snippet will explain much. Perhaps. Maybe this post will just increase my ability to baffle. Some have responded to my choice for a blog title with a big fat "Duh" while others have expressed perplexed "huh???"

A Flying Monkey Mother is an acronym slogan I tooled with the help of my own monkeys to define who I am last October and would have loved to produce different ways to wear my slogan prior to the presidential elections.

I actually sent a version of this in to a certain person I have been known to casually stalk in my spare time…except he had just disappeared from CNN and I’m quite sure that the transition to Fox is what kept him so busy that he never got to my email.

“F” is for….Former corporate sales scum for a well known brand of clothing whose name starts with the letter L & this Co. literally exists to "cya" (cover your assets!)“L” is for….Loyal to my God, my Country & my Family, Nuff Said! “Y” is for….Yellow sponges who sing, dance, cook, wear clothes & lack good judgment make me belly laugh out loud!“I” is for...Ingenious & dedicated shopper who is, at this present juncture, not shopping thanks to current events, dang it! “N” is for….Not currently on any corporate payroll, but working way harder at this gig than any other gig I have ever had before motherhood! “G” is for….Generation ME~EX'ER ala 1968 (one foot in a disco platform and one foot in a black & white checkered Van, explains why I appear slightly off-balance and displays my range of shoe style affections.) “M” is for…. My kids would really love me more if I would sign them up for very sport known to man kind & I refuse to cave! “O” is for…. Offended by philosophies of those who willingly choose to be unaccountable enigmas in our country! “N” is for….Never going to live down embarrassing mishaps that seem to happen to me! “K” is for…. Kicked many & most of my own bad habits but alas, perfection is not even on my radar! “E” is for….Eternally remodeling our home & am admitted project junkie; foolishly optimistic that a day will come when the funds are found! “Y” is for….Your average adult female with ADD who enjoys swapping that out for OCD during a crisis but also known as a yard junkie when the weather warms.

That's all of the skinny version.

Want the detailed not-so-skinny version? Ok…you asked for it…..

After hearing my blog title, dear friend Anna-Lisa disclosed to me her fear of freaky monkeys...namely the ones from "The Wizard of Oz". Bingo Anna, you nailed my source of inspiration, rather the keeper of the monkeys.

Totally Wicked
"The Wicked Witch of the West" and certainly the whole "The Wizard of Oz" experience is one of my most cherished memories as a little girl. My curiosity about the rest of the story with the green witch was peaked when she referenced her sister from the east. Those darling “Ruby Red Slippers” absolutely caught my attention and clearly influenced my inner soul love of beautiful shoes. But the slippers were not the only thing I took note of. The eastern witch also wore those very fun & funky red & white striped stockings, and her legs curled up like a fruit roll-up when her wicked westwardly sister tried to take the slippers off as her body was disappearing under the tossed house that landed on top of her. The whole scene had me begging for more as I craved to know the family dynamics between the 2 witchy sisters, the one from the east, the one from the west and everyone else in between. In the 1970's there was a Maxwell Coffee comercial starring Margaret Hamilton that would cause me to wonder how could this nice lady making coffee be that same green witch that haled from the west?

Enter Elfaba Thropp & her story defined in the musical "Wicked". Thanks to my dear friend Pat, I discovered Elfaba 2 years ago. Elfaba's story both mesmerized and impacted me so much that if there was ever a character I identified with, it is Elfaba, with her green skin and all. (At least the way she is portrayed on the stage. I tried to read the actual book once but it freaked me out just skipping & dipping through the text so I deposited the paperback in my dear friend, Kathie's lap. Kathie read “Wicked” and reported back that it was pretty weird.)
Elfaba, turns out, is misunderstood. Never mind why. It's complicated. But she stays determined to understand her own role and the roles of others around her. Her green aura is very appealing, even symbolic to me on a very deep level.

Enough psycho-babbling. Who has time for that crap?

Fast forward to October 3, 2008. While roaming the vast fields of flea market mayhem with the same Kathie from above along with our other partner in crimes & misdemeanors, Sara, I spied a cute pillow that stated "Don't make me release the flying monkeys on you!", causing me to spontaneously cackle outloud. Oh how I wish I had bought that darling pillow, ugh!

(Like I need more Halloween decor....)

Wanted: Slogan For A Hockey Mom For Palin Only We Don’t Play Hockey
Now fast forward to October 13th, about 3 weeks ahead of the most critical Presidential election of my lifetime thus far. An identity crisis relative to my circumstances at the time was rubbing me raw. My nerves were already raw from realizing way too many people were drinking the kool-aid & by golly I wanted to exclaim to the world who I was and WHY I would ever be compelled to have come to the conclusion of voting for the McCain-Palin ticket.

After hearing about a t-shirt that read something like "Special Needs Mothers For Palin", I began to try and brainstorm my own slogan. Then there was the yard sign I read that defined the family living there by saying something like "Gun-Owning, Country Loving, Devoted Christian Family for McCain-Palin". Crud, I wanted a yard sign with my own slogan to declare my idenity too! I have always longed to be known by another name other than my own anyway, so this made complete sense to me.

However, defining myself in simple terms simply was not possible.

“BLANK- Mother for McCain Palin!” LAME, LAME, LAME!

For a self-proclaimed marketing maven & maverick in my own right, I was BLANK. That does not happen often. But when it does, it is maddening.

I needed in-put on my description. Calling my friends was NOT an option. They often want to redefine me and I buck them every time. Kenny would just be completely compliant because he is no dummy but I was not trying to come up with a hallmark card though. I needed unbiased and profitable feedback. Who would be more inclined to define me than my own precious children?

So, I drank some of my own kool-aid and enlisted my own little minions after school on that day. What a delusional fantasy as they all were bouncing off the walls, running, screaming, squealing, and screeching in their usual manner. But later after they were all asleep, I took their own personal rambling descriptions of me as their mother and mixed in some loopy thoughts of my own & drafted the following definition of myself:

“F” is for….Former corporate sales scum for a well known brand of clothing whose name starts with the letter L & this Co. literally exists to "cya" (cover your assets!)“L” is for….Loyal to my God, my Country & my Family, Nuff Said! “Y” is for….Yellow sponges who sing, dance, cook, wear clothes & lack good judgment make me belly laugh out loud!“I” is for...Ingenious & dedicated shopper who is, at this present juncture, not shopping thanks to current events, dang it! “N” is for….Not currently on any corporate payroll, but working way harder at this gig than any other gig I have ever had before motherhood! “G” is for….Generation ME~EX'ER ala 1968 (one foot in a disco platform and one foot in a black & white checkered Van, explains why I appear slightly off-balance and displays my range of shoe style affections.) “M” is for…. My kids would really love me more if I would sign them up for very sport known to man kind & I refuse to cave! “O” is for…. Offended by philosophies of those who willingly choose to be unaccountable enigmas in our country! “N” is for….Never going to live down embarrassing mishaps that seem to happen to me! “K” is for…. Kicked many & most of my own bad habits but alas, perfection is not even on my radar! “E” is for….Eternally remodeling our home & am admitted project junkie; foolishly optimistic that a day will come when the funds are found! “Y” is for….Your average adult female with ADD who enjoys swapping that out for OCD during a crisis but also known as a yard junkie when the weather warms.

Had there been more time before the elections, I promise I would have made myself a t-shirt, a yard sign, a website, a pin, a bumpersticker and a sash proclaiming my proud and studied choice to support the now failed ticket using the acronym “Flying Monkey Mothers For McCain-Palin”

My kids are monkeys. And therefore, I am the flying monkey mother.

So there ya go.

Random Snippet Titles-A Preview of Blogs Not Yet Blogged

*Order of titles does not secure order of blogging.
*Additional titles will appear as they appear on the ticker tape in my head.
*Titles may be adapted by the author.
*Topics not listed may be requested should anyone like to live on the edge.
*Current events that qualify for journaling will be woven into this snippet quilt.

"What In The Sam Hill Is a Flying Monkey Mother?" DONE!

"My Poor Progeny, I'm Doing My Best Not To Screw Them Up Totally"

"How Do You Solve A Problem Like A Leah?"

"Just Like Triumph, I Got The Music In Me"

"Yada, Yada, Yada: Facebook, Yearbooks, Scrapbooks, Origami For Beginners, Slam Books, Slammin Princess Phones, Cell Phones, Franklin Planners, Palms, BlackBerries, Email, ChainLetters, Holiday Family Letters, Blogging and Twitter Tweeting~The Enlightment of the Communication Cults"

"My Dream Business Was Knitting Caps Out Of Dryer Lint" DONE! (Combined)

"There Nothing Wrong With Kissing Your Cousin: Finding Joy In The Paterfamilia"

"Words That Begin With The Letter P"

"Never Ever Ask Me To Plan Your Bachlorette Party"

"I Finally Get The Parable of The 10 Virgins" DONE!
"Busier Than A One Armed Man In a Butt Kicking Contest"

"Being Gently Rebuked And Better For It"

"Why Name Dropping Is a Very Good Thing Indeed"

"Stalking Glenn Beck In My Spare Time"

"Common Sense and Other Paradoxical Characteristics"

"Coach Miller Was Right, 4 Years In A Row, Algebra Mattered"

"What Do I Want To Be When I Grow Up?" DONE! (Combined)

"Be Grateful I Don't Drink Anymore"

"Surrounded By People Smarter Than Me"

"Barbara Bush Is The Nicest Lady I Ever Declined"

"Scratched!"

"The Ability To Visualize Whirled Peas"

"In My Best Vinny Barbarino, I'm So Confused"

"Multitasking At My Best Means Writing and Sleeping At the Same Time" DONE!

"Why Hearing The Word Crap From The Pulpit Is So Dang Funny"

"The Correlation of Levi's and Obama"

"I Love The Word Serendipity, Even Though I Have Problems Spelling It"

Since this is my blog, and since I gave fair warning in the first post, I want to change things up a bit. Actually, I want to copy someones homework, sorda.

My blogs, just like me, are going to be random, in nature. Just quick little snippets to journal for me and my "paterfamilia", & my "progeny" (especially for the "Oh Brother Where Art Thou" cult members like myself) and any other poor soul who stumbles upon my documented silliness.

There may be times, however, when I call "special occasion blog" time, when I give my self permission to write until my hands cramp up or my brain empties completely. I may have frightened some readers with the length of my second post, but hey, it was Inauguration Day and most of the extra celabratory activities of that day went on forever, so who was I to "change" the pace of things? Thus, that post was my first official "SOB".

What?

Anywho, I have a mack truck full of blog ideas and want to pen them down to post but it will need to wait till later tonight.

However, since I am in the "blog" of the moment, I am going to plop the first snippet out.

It's titled....
"I Love The Word, Serendipity.... Even Though I Have Problems Spelling It"

I love the word "serendipity".... even though I have problems spelling it. In fact, I love that cute word so much that I really don't give a rat's tail end that it takes me forever to peck it out and then correct my spelling at least twice. There is a very good chance that "serendipitously" is not even an official word but I think my reason from sentence # 1 applies here too.

Last night offered up one of those serendipitous moments in my increased life. The 5 year old, Kevin, happened to be sitting in his tiny fold-up chair in the dark, frigid (ok,ok,ok, it was only 45 degrees but the feel-like was -3) smoky air on the outskirts of a camp fire at our Cub Scout Pack Meeting held at Spring Creek Park. "Mommy!" he yells out. Now, I am only 3 feet away from Kevin, but it is so dang dark and so dang smoky that he cannot see that I am right there beside him. I stepped over to him and stooped down to his tiny chair and wrapped my blankie around the two of us entirely. "Mommy, are we gonna die?" he blurts out in my ear. That kid just cracks me up and freaks me out all at the same time. I am guessing the jerk-knee change in the weather, combined with the gaggle of wild banshee children from our church running around while wearing their glowing "AstroWorld" bracelets in the pitch dark, along with the roaring fire, and large shadowy silhouettes stumbling around in the murky smoke got to him and he was expressing his fears. Maybe he has been right to maturely stand up for himself and proclaim to his family that the Harry Potter # 5 movie was "too old for me". Now you know what I am doing right, I am snuggled up so close to Kevin I can hear him breathe, both tickled at his sincere question and yet...I am starting to worry over his fears; causing me to debate my past judgements of what I have forced him to be exposed to in his tiny, little world...but not for too long because I sensed a golden opportunity to get us the heck outta dodge!

And who walks up with a roasted marshmallow?

That darling husband of mine. "Bandersnatch, Kenny!" I just about had Kevin poised to load back up in the van, we had come, made our appearance, it was stinkin' cccccccold and Mama was "red ta go" already. Kevin slurped off the melty marshmallow, got all charged up, started lapping around us and took off to join his fellow banshees in their revelry.

Still, it was a sweet little serendipitous moment which Kev and I shared together.

Plus, we did not die, so we've got that working for us.

"I Kinda Feel Bad For Michelle Obama, She Has To Wear High Heels"

My teener, preteener and kidlets returned to our homebase after this historic day at school where they either watched or heard about inauguration activities for President Obama. Listening to the boys has made me reflect on my own school days and I don't personally recall knowing about the inaugurations. Is this is the case with other parents?


With the Presidential Parade on the telly right now, I have decided to journal the comments and questions that have come out of the mouths of my babes. I want our boys to have this memory to share with their own children.

Intertwined in this post are their precious, funny and telling comments. Based on these statements Kenny and I, along with their history teachers, have some work to do.



Dylan~"I kinda feel bad for Michelle Obama (long pause), she has to wear high heels while walking in the parade. She has to wear a dress too and it looks like it is really cold there."



Having reconnected with many a school chum recently has given way to tons of school memories and I do recall 4 past historic events connected to school:

1. ) The day when President Reagan was shot. I was an 8th grader here in Houston at Hoffman Middle School, in 6th period when it was announced and we got to turn on the tv. I had softball practice that day and my "boyfriend" was John Garza, who was a 7th grader. (Oohh, the controversy!) While my parents were republicans, I don't remember much discussion about the incident at home, but then again, that does not mean that my parents were not concerned. Contrast to that moment in time, I have a distinct memory of very good example my parents set for me when we knelt as a family and prayed for our country and President Nixon on the night of his resignation.


2.) The day Anwar Sadat was assassinated. I am fairly sure this also was announced in my 6th period class in 8th grade at Hoffman...

Kevin~"Mommy, look at this guy! It's Rock Obama! He's the president!" (As he pulls out his Weekly Reader featuring President Obama from his backpack)

Derek~"Mom, after you're president, when you leave, are you rich?" "For you to be president, do you have to be rich or at least as rich as we are?" (LOL!!!!)

Kevin~ (After I ask him if he wants to grow up and be president) "Yes...(he giggles)... "Mommy, do you want Daddy to grow up and be president?"

3.) The day the Space Shuttle, Challenger, exploded after lift-off. I was a senior and watched that horrific moment in time with my Algebra teacher. I wanted to attend the funeral down at NASA but could not because my mother was concerned that President Reagan's attendance put his life was in danger.


Derek~"I watched part of the president's speech during lunch, then I got bored and went out to play"


Derek~"I have seen the president up close Mom, remember when Tomball turned 100 and I was in the parade and he walked by me?" (Referring to Daddy Bush )


4.) A much less important, although still a tragic experience for me was the fateful day I merely followed my company's S.O.P. (standard operating procedure) and sought authorization above my own to approve an out-of-state check from Barbara Bush when Daddy Bush was the Vice President in 1986. (Technically, I had already graduated but it happened that year and scarred me for life)


Dylan~"What happened to Kennedy? Isn't he the one with the Portuguese Water Dogs?" (We have a PWD...and Cisco is a whole lot cuter than Uncle Teddy's PWDs....and Aunt Carolyn and her sister Cathy thinks this is SOOOOO funny that they sent me Uncle Teddy's PWD book!)


Dylan~ "Oh...now it makes sense why there was an ambulance...(realizing it was there for Senator Kennedy), when I saw it earlier I thought someone was trying to hurt the President or he had frostbite because its so cold"


Regardless of the color of our president's skin, the day really is remarkable. But, because of the color of our president's skin is black, this is truly a day unlike any other before it. Considering I was born during the infamous year of 1968 this is an awesome leap in progress. Too bad I could not enjoy this "first" and be confident in my president's agenda at the same time. Ironically, had people voted for the conservative black candidate, Alan Keyes, with that goal of moving our country forward, we would have celebrated this unprecedented event years ago. Oh well. Time for me to build that bridge to somewhere.


Dylan~"Mom, do you think Sara Palin will run for president-elect in 2012? That would be kinda cool".


You betcha! Sarah Palin rocks!


Dylan~"It would be cool if I were the president"


Derek~"I went to school today with President Bush as my president and came home to President Obama"


President Bush, it is good to have you back in the great state of Texas.


Derek~"Who is that guy?" (Pointing to President Reagan.....Oh Dear....and I gave birth to this child!)


Dylan~"Mom, did #43 live in the White House when #41 was there?"


The last 8 years have been very important in my life. There is a great deal of respect and gratitude I have for President George W. Bush. I have been a conservative for a very long time but 9/11 unearthed feelings and concerns in me that I did not know existed. I was so grateful for my president then, for the president and the man, he became after 9/11. I know there many disagree with him, even those in my own party, and to be honest, I know he is not perfect. But this I do know, I don't know enough about the issues that my conservative peers pick him apart over for me to agree with them. So I am willing to give him the benefit of the doubt based on another thing I do know, I know I trusted his leadership in the highest office of our land during 8 landmark and sometimes, very frightening years. To quote one of my favorite people whom I don't know personally, Mr. Glenn Beck of Fox News, who today who bid President Bush farewell, "Well done thou good and faithful servant."


Cade~"Who was the 6th President of the United States again?" (Referring to my cousin, whose name for the moment would not come to me b/c I was draft blogging! But shame on Cade too, b/c ever since we found out I am related to JOHN QUINCY ADAMS, Cade, just like me, loves to throw this little detail out in discussions...wonder where he gets that trait?) "I want to hang a picture of him for you, Mommy, so you can always look at him."


As I am now watching the coverage of President dancing tonight, I am chuckling as I think I have to admit to another commonality with President Obama. He dances like the rest of us crackers.


Dylan~"Was that Jesse Jackson walking behind President Obama in the parade? (No, it was SS)

Derek~"Was that Jesse Jackson praying after President Obama's speech" (No. But after listening to the prayer, it might as well have been.)

Cade~"Is that Jesse Jackson?" (No, it was Evander Holyfield! Oye Vay!)


Derek~"Benjamin Franklin, when was he a president?" And what about that one who was a mormon prophet? You know, Woodrow Wilson?" (I explained that I had no clue what faith President Wilson was but assured him he was confusing him with Wilford Woodruff who was our church's 4th president & prophet.)


Cade~ While looking at a picture of President Clinton, "Is that Joe Biden?" And then about an hour later he said "Who was the president before President Bush?" My reply was "President Clinton" to which Cade then asked, "Is he married to Hillary Clinton?" (HMMM....)


Derek~"I don't want President Obama to be a bad president, Mom, I want him to be a good president. Like, what if he is like a FDR and pulls the country out?"


Wow. This causes me to notice and admit my nose is tingling, there is a catch in my throat and tears in my eyes. Even though my guy did not win the presidency on Nov. 7, 2008, my country is still the "home of the free and the brave" and I am privileged to call it mine. My awareness of being allowed to participate in family prayer for President Obama and his family is heightened. He has and will continue to have our prayers.


And just like Derek, I also hope President Obama is a good president.


Cade~"This is going to be the worst four years of my life but at least we have a president".


Rutroh. The brainwashing is working a little too well.

Flying Monkey Mother Debut

This debut is dedicated to the Kerner family and their love for their precious Rose.

In the words of Frosty the Snowman, "Happy Birthday!"

This is where the world of blogging and facebooking crash head on as I just got jiggy with Facebook a few days ago...

However, for someone who must add ADD to my own real world, this collision could be interesting!

I am not sure anyone else will find any value to reading this blog but I like that this is a way to journal. However, I have to warn anyone who might read this particular blog, that I tend to be very boring, very off the wall and very opinionated. Dennis Miller might be able to identify with me. But that is the beauty of this being MY very own blog, right?