People Are People

This is what people see when they approach the back of our vehicle. My brother-in-law sells these stickers and put them on there for us. I'll admit that I used to be a part of the group who thought they were... I don't know, braggy? Ultra-mormon? But now I LOVE them. Mostly because they make for some interesting parking lot conversations and encounters on the road.

Almost every person who sees these stickers proclaiming that 2 parents have 9 children wants to see the person who is driving. They'll speed up, look at me (or Allen) and then slow back down or zip on by. I've become accustomed to this and will often wave or even offer a friendly salute - only because I know it makes them feel a bit awkward that I'm on to them... and I'm all about getting people out of their comfort zones. In the summer I even like to have the kids roll down their windows and we bust some amazing synchronized dance moves or head bangin' as other vehicles pass, gawking.

A few times, I have been surprised. Once a man matched my speed on the freeway (pet peeve) until I looked over at his vehicle so that he could hold up 9 fingers followed by a finger pointing at me and a questioning look. I offered a thumbs-up with a quick head-nod before he sped off, smiling and shaking his head.

On our recent trip home from California an equally large vehicle, also filled to capacity with a whole passel of kids, pulled alongside us. The driver gave Allen a generous smile and a double-thumbs-up and then sped off.

Just about every time I walk out of a StuffMart or grocery store there is someone standing behind my vehicle, counting stickers. When they realize it is my car, the counters will either ask where I got the stickers or if I really have 9 kids. Not because they honestly care to know, but because they feel as if they have to say something.

Once I even caught a girl taking a picture of the back window with her phone. I pretended to walk past, then stopped and said, "That's a LOT of people on that window!"

"Yeah," she said, "I'm totally going to post this on my blog. Can you believe it?! How do they fit all those kids in there?"

"Well," I told her, "we have a custom seat for 3 in the cargo area and we don't often travel all together so it actually works out really well."

Her eyes widened just slightly before she said, "I was just kidding about putting the picture on my blog."

"It's okay," I told her. "I was planning to do the same thing myself."

And look... I did.

Life Is A Highway

Yesterday we made the long trip back home from our annual visit to sunny southern California. As we drove and the scenery changed from the Joshua Trees of the high desert to the bright lights of Las Vegas; from the crimson cliffs of southern Utah to the snow-covered mountains closer to home, I realized that these road trips are a lot like life.

Sometimes the roads are free and clear with no obstacles or distractions, but other times we get mired in traffic and chaos and we have to make a choice. We can patient and wait until we pass through it all or we can become angry and frustrated about the surrounding chaos - even though it is something beyond our control.

Often we will notice that the traffic is stopped on the other side of the road. This makes us thankful that we are traveling in a different direction just then.

There are times where we may become lost and unsure of where to go. We can choose to stop and ask for directions or try to make our own path to our destination but either way we are usually able to eventually get to where we are going. Some paths are more difficult to travel but offer a much better view while other times the road will be easy to navigate.

We may encounter ground-shaking storms or patches of ice which require us to slow down for a bit or maybe even to stop altogether in search of shelter. Other times we will enjoy perfect weather; sunshine with just enough cloud-cover to offer warmth and protection at the same time and road conditions which are near perfect.

When we start to run out of gas it is an opportunity to pull over, stretch our weary bodies and fill up our tanks again. The road is always there, but we don't have to rush to get back to it; we can take our sweet time, take pictures, and resume our road-trip when we feel ready.

Some journeys are long and seem almost never-ending, other trips are much too short, but the excursion is always worthwhile for the people we meet, the experiences we gain, the memories we make and the beautiful scenery we take in along the way.

And regardless of the length of our drive or the things we encounter, the journey is all worth it when we reach our destination in the end.

Car Lots Are Exhausting

Photo from photobucket.com

Shopping for a new (used) car is exhausting.

(Get it? Exhausting? Sorry. The heat is getting to me... it makes my brain go goofy.)

The summer sun reflects off of the asphalt (which looks like midnight but feels like purgatory), beats relentlessly down on my face and back, and I begin to melt.

The names of various makes and models and acronyms (like SE, LE and GX... what?) get all jumbled up in my female brain. Can't we just call them what they are? The white car with 4 doors. The silver car with a stick shift. The gold car with the sweaty leather seats.

The multiple numbers representing mileage and price and things I don't understand (like engine size) float in a sea of chaos and confusion in my head. Can't they just sell quality vehicles for what they're really worth so we don't have to worry about purchasing an overpriced lemon?

(However, I will gladly purchase an overpriced lemonade. Two, please.)

I miss our little peely-paint Neon who served us so well for almost 15 years.

You cursed car lots! Look what you've done! I'm melting! Melllllllting! Oh, what a world! What a world!

Accidentally in Love

From my place in front of the kitchen sink, I heard the screeching tires. The impact. The sound of dragging metal. It was much too close for comfort. I ran outside in my socks and noticed that the car was parked at an awkward position, but everything seemed fine.
After doing an inventory of kids and bikes and realizing no one was hurt, I checked out the other side of the cars.
Maybe it was a bit more serious than I thought. My mind began immediately racing with thoughts of the terrible things that could have happened. All of the what-ifs. And then, looking at the wreck in my front yard, my brain shifted.

I couldn't help but notice that these two cars looked as if they were clinging to each other... one with a tire outstretched as if offering comfort to the other.
It was like the car that had caused the accident was telling our car it was sorry. Like they were close friends. Or maybe even more? Had they been checking each other out all these years, parked across the street from each other for so long? Had they been holding on to the hope that they might find themselves on the same side of the road sometime? I walked around to the back of the accident to assess the damages there. And I thought...
Don't they look like they're in love, all huddled close together?

I just wish they didn't have to meet by accident.

I know some of you are probably wondering what happened. The oldest daughter of one of our neighbors was coming home from work. It was determined that she was looking at her cell phone when the car veered to the right and by the time she looked up, she was immediately behind our little Neon with no time to correct herself. She carried our car from the curb to the sidewalk and onto our lawn and driveway. She was traveling fast enough that airbags were deployed - and the only (minor) injuries she received were from the impact of the airbag (thank heavens!). Both cars are no longer operable - but the cars are just 2 hunks of metal and glass... they can be replaced. Those damages are not important. We are just very, very grateful that none of our kids or neighbor's kids were playing in front of our house at the time. We are also very, very grateful that our neighbor's daughter is fine. Our suburban was not parked on the street or in the driveway or else it most likely would have sustained some damage as well. For this we are also glad.

And yes, I really did think about the cars having a relationship. That, my friends, is how my mind works. I can't help it. (Or maybe I have just watched the movie Cars one too many times.)

Creepy-Crawly

What is it with spiders?

We, as human beings, are at least a gazillion times larger than those hairy 8-legged arachnids. So what is it about them that completely terrifies most of us?

For me, it's the unknown.

Is it a poisonous spider? Do I want to get close enough to find out? (NO.)

Can it jump? Will it jump on me if I try to capture it and set it nicely outside the back door? (Almost always, YES.)

And why (oh, HEAVENS, WHY?!) do they have to enter my personal space? Can't they be happy with the beautiful weather outdoors and just enjoy it, for heaven's sake? Even better... for my poor sake?

Today as I attempted to load our smallest munchkins into The Green Machine (a.k.a. Our Suburban), Hubba screamed.

Honestly. SCREAMED.

"A spider is in they-er!" he loudly proclaimed, pointing at the enormously hairy creepy-crawler who lay in wait beneath the seat.

I made all sorts of empty promises.

It won't hurt you, I promised. It won't bite you, I promised. It just wants to see what it's like to ride in a car, I promised.

Hubba and Curly looked me square in the eye and informed me with a look that: No, Mom, we are NOT getting in there with that creepy thing.

I acted completely put out that they would be frightened of something (just waiting to bite my toe off!!) so completely harmless and minuscule. I rolled my eyes, walked over to where the spider was last seen and pretended to pick it just as it retreated farther back into the shadows beneath the bench seat.

"See? I got it!" I announced triumphantly, holding out my (empty) cupped hands, walking toward the neighbor's flowery bush.

I pretended to set the spider free near the bush. "All gone!" I proudly proclaimed. "Now you can get into the car," I encouraged them.

As they climbed into their car seats Hubba scolded me. "The nay-bers are gonna be may-ad at you when they see the spider you put in they-er yard."

"Awesome," I muttered back as I buckled them in.

As we drove toward our destination, I began to think of the furry little traveling companion who was accompanying us on our drive. I hoped he planned to stay where he was. I started to feel bad that the kids would know what a liar their mom was if it showed up anywhere near...

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" I screamed. I could feel it on my ankle! It was attacking me!! I shook my ankle furiously and looked down to see if the ferocious beast's fangs had embedded themselves in my skin yet...

A loose thread from my jeans was the culprit.

"What's a-matter, Mom?!" Hubba asked, eyes wide as saucers.

"Ha, ha... just kidding. Just wanted to see if you guys were asleep!" I answered confidently.

After arriving home I searched every square inch of the vehicle to rid it of the spider once and for all. I considered it penance for the slight untruths I had told.

Nothing.

And so, the laugh's on me, furry friend. But know this. DO NOT FORGET THIS! The next time I see you or any of your relatives, you WILL die. In fact...

I plan to offer up a full dollar to the kid who is brave enough to smash you. Because despite the fact that you infuriate me, I am not going to touch you with a ten-foot pole.

Especially considering the fact that you probably jump.

Fair Warning

Yes, this means what you think it means.

Coolister has his driving permit.

Be afraid.

Be very afraid.

Master Mechanic

The other day I went to take Princess to school and the suburban wouldn't start. This had happened once in the last week already, so I knew just what to do. I got out the jumper cables,
phoned a friend who brought her car over, then tried to jump start the dead 'burb.
Nothing. My friend volunteered to take Princess to school (thanks, Jenny!) and let me use her car to run errands afterward. I graciously accepted. But then I started to think... I remembered how Allen let me in on a little secret about his vehicle repair know-how: he just figured things out as he needed to.

I could do that.

I remembered how I replaced the headlight by myself just a couple of weeks ago
and what a feeling of sweet satisfaction I had afterward.

I can at least attempt to fix the problem, I thought.

I did a search on the internet listing the basic problem and found this practical solution: "Try whacking the fuel tank with a 2 x 4 or rubber mallet to move the pump commutator and start it again."

Now this was a tool I knew I could find. I got a nice 2x4 from the garage...
and set out to find the fuel tank.

I knew the fuel went in here...
so I climbed under the vehicle and followed this
to here. Fuel tank! Larger than life...So I gave it a good whack...
then tried to restart the 'burb. And guess what? It worked!

I now keep an extra tool in the back in case of emergencies:
And you know what? I think I can do anything.

Just call me an Automotive Goddess.