Showing posts from September, 2011

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Mother of the Year Goes to.... Not Me

Every morning I go to the gym to exercise. I love it because I have a lot of friends there (it's my adult interaction for the day...hahah...but seriously...), endorphins are released, I feel powerful and strong....etc. Fast forward to about 10 minutes after I arrive home.

Kids are fighting over who grabbed the box of cereal first.

Tears are rolling down cheeks from, "Cameron looked at me in a mean way."

Fights are breaking out between who has to be the flippin' monkey in the middle...

You get the idea.

So pretty much all the good I do at 5:30 in the wee early morning hours gets completely undone. (Perhaps I should schedule my workouts to after the kids leave for school instead?)

Anyway, today was no different. The kids actually all got ready on their own really well without any fights. They had a good 20 minutes to kill before we had to leave for school. They decided to play a game (but not the blasted Monkey in the Middle game...No! No! I banned that game [and 'jinx&#…

Son of a Gun

My Dad loves toys. Four-wheelers, boats, cars, motorcycles, motorhomes, and at one time--snowmobiles.

We had never been snowmobiling before. But we were determined we could figure it out. Being the OCD person he is, Dad polished up the snowmobiles with "Son of a Gun" to make them nice and pretty. We headed up the mountains and were anxious to ride them.

When we got there, we quickly learned we didn't know the first thing about them--let alone how to get them off the trailer. We pretended like we were fixing the snowmobiles, and instead were secretly watching the other snowmobilers to see how they did it. Once we were confident we had it down, we made Dad do it. Then came the second tricky part--getting up a over a snow mound.

Once again we spied on the "professionals." It looked easy enough--just drive up and over. Once again we sent Dad to do the trick. He gunned it, and the snowmobile took off! But Dad did not. The leather seats were so slick from being polished…


We took a trip up to Island Park one time (a small town just outside Yellowstone). They had the cutest little cabins there--and we felt so cool staying there. Sometimes I liked to pretend I was Laura Engels from The Little House on the Prairie (I daydreamed SO much).

Anyway, they have a little shop in town that we went to check out. Lance thought the girl that worked there was kind of cute. When she asked him what his name was, he told her. But she must have misunderstood because she kept calling him, "Clarence." He was so ticked off about it. We teased him about it for a while, and he would get so angry. Clarence never had a funny sense of humor about that.

One of MANY boating stories...

We used to go camping and boating a lot. We couldn't really afford to do anything else. While everyone else was flying to exotic places, we had our own fun in Bear Lake, Lake Powell, and Utah Lake. We used to be Gold Members at a resort in Bear Lake called Blue Water Beach Resort. It was wonderful going there for a few reasons:
the church we attended on Sundays was always jam packed. With so many tourists visiting for the summer, we all filled the hallways and extra classrooms. It took their poor deacons about an hour to pass the sacrament (if not longer)We always bought Raspberry shakes at LaBeau's. They had the most mouth-watering shakes alive! (They were always really crowded, so you'd have to take a number. When the guy yelled out a number, my dad happened to be standing right by him and got that screamed into his hear. He gave us a funny look and yelled back jokingly, "SCOTT!" -- an inside joke/quote from the movie, Austin Powers, that had just recently come …

Kneel Down & Close Your Eyes!

Every time we wanted a treat, my mom would make us kneel down at the couch and close our eyes so we couldn't see where she was hiding the "loot." I've since started doing the same thing to Taylor. :)


Mom put me in tap dance when I was in Kindergarten. A lady in our ward had a dance studio in her basement, so I went there. I hated it. I was so shy and never remembered any of the steps that we had practiced. When we'd actually perform at the 49th Street Galleria, I was too shy and would just play with my hands and "shuffle rock step." I remember thinking at the end of our dance routine, "When did we learn this?! Was I there?"

Needless to say dance didn't work for me.

A few years later one of my best friends, Melanie, was playing on a Jr. Jazz basketball team that her dad was coaching. They asked if I wanted to join, and I did. Apparently I was a natural at it. I had never played the sport and was doing awesome. I loved it. I loved excelling at something that came naturally to me. I beat all the boys in Lightning at recess, and after school we played Chris Romriell and Chad Oscarson and beat them, too. (Poor kids were teased the next day at school that two g…

A Near Death Experience

Okay, so I don't know if I would have died or not, but at the time my condition seemed pretty serious.

When I was young I got really sick. So sick to the point where I couldn't really eat, I kept losing weight, I could no longer walk, and the doctors couldn't figure out what was wrong with me. After visiting multiple doctors, it seemed hopeless. I remember coming back one night with my mom. She closed the garage door, but we were still in the car. She didn't say anything. She just started crying. That's when I knew something was seriously wrong with me. I really thought I was going to die.

Spencer and Tenille pulled me around the house in our little red Radio Flyer wagon since I couldn't walk. Dad got really mad that the wagon was in the house, then felt bad and backed off.

We finally called our home teacher, Bishop Bateman, over to help Dad give me a blessing. And immediately after the blessing was done, I stood up. It was indeed a miracle. I knew from an early a…

Grandpa Banks

My dad's mom, Grandma Banks, passed away when I was pretty young. I didn't know her very well, but I do remember she always gave us purple Bubblicious Bubble Gum before we left her house each time. (And one time she forgot to and I totally thought she didn't love me anymore. lol). Anyway, with Grandma gone, that left poor Grandpa Banks alone. He worshiped the ground she walked on, and was devastated when she passed. She was really sick and had a lot of things wrong with her (Lupus, and a few other things). I came to find out later in life that she actually had prayed to die because she was in so much pain.

Anyway, with Grandma gone, Aunt Sis (I want to say she was my Grandma's sister) kidnapped my grandpa and sold all his possessions (including his home). She kept the money from it all and locked him in her basement and fed him tons of Prozac pills. (That's the story in a nutshell). After battling her out, we finally rescued Grandpa and brought him home with us. Poo…

10-Year Old Assistant Ward Clerk

Dad used to serve in the Bishopric as the Ward clerk--which meant he had to sit on the stand while we sat in the church pews. He missed sitting with us, and invited Spence and me to sit with him. Spence was pretty shy, so I ended up being the one to sit with him most of the time. I remember counting how many people were in the congregation and hallways, writing down the names of the deacons and priests, recording the talks that were given, etc. I LOVED it! And when we were done with our stats, Dad and I played games on his notebook paper (mostly the game with a bunch of dots, and you have to connect them to make a square and write your initial inside of it.) lol

I did this for a long time, that is until my sister, Tenille, told me I was getting a little "too old" to be doing that. I abruptly stopped, and I think my Dad was hurt a little. I never told him why, but I regretted it. I look back now and wished I would have done it every Sunday until I moved away to college.

My Mama the "Sign Lady"

Every time someone in my family had a major accomplishment, you could be sure the whole neighborhood on Casper Road knew about it. 
My mom was always great about recognizing us and our successes. For that, I am so thankful. Even if it was my Dad coming home from being out of town on a business trip, you could guarantee a "Welcome Home, Dad!" sign would be proudly displayed on the garage door or hanging on the columns of our house. My mom was so great at that. She had a sign for every event in our lives--whether it was making a sports team, doing well on a test, getting baptized, receiving a mission call, getting engaged, celebrating our birthday, or just to say she loved us. And honestly, I did love it. I think we all did. In fact, my sisters and I do the same things for our families now. 
Isn't it funny the little things you inherit and pass on?
My mom wasn't just the queen of house signs, but of the queen of "napkin notes" in our lunchbags, too. It wasn'…

Tats in Real Life...

A few years ago Matt's parents gave us a really neat Christmas gift--a book with the personal history of Afton Lemmon Southam (Matt's grandmother). In it she wrote about 80 pages worth of events and stories from her life. I was engulfed in it, and felt inspired to do the same thing. I want my future posterity to know how it was when I was growing up, too. 
These stories are in no particular order--just as they come to me.