Now what?

I took Atley to the doctor a few weeks ago. His pediatrician suggested I take him to a dermatologist for some skin issues he has been having.  This is the way she worded her suggestion, "You can take him to any dermatologist. Just take him to whoever does your Botox."  Hum! Not sure whether that was a compliment or an insult. 
A few days later I went to get my hair cut.  The rather rude beautician couldn't stop talking about how badly I needed a dye job to cover the gray.  "Seriously, how can you stand to walk around in public like this?" Yeah, yeah! Just cut the hair already.
Then after a rather embarrassing beat down on the basketball court with my church team, a woman from the opposing side approached me and said, "Maybe the two of us should form an old woman's league."  I thought, "Speak for yourself Granny!"
Perhaps all of these occurrences and the impending birthday month just around the corner bothered me more than I realized, because I found myself at the mall yesterday in search of a new miracle make-up.  Maybe some Botox in a bottle if you will.  I bought the make-up and then made a detour into Forever 21.  They were having a big sale and I really needed some retail therapy.  After about 2 minutes in the store, Nash looks at me and says, "Mom, I think you are too old for this store."  I looked around and realized I did have at least 10 years on the other patrons.  Needless to say, we left.
Now what?  I am stuck in between Abercrombie and a pair of SAS shoes.  What's acceptable?  It isn't like I shop at Hollister with that dirty old mall walker who wears his teeny bopper label super tight around his not so tight physique. I gave up those overly cologned (not a real word) places long ago. I like Old Navy, H&M, Gap, Target, and up until yesterday Forever 21.  However, Nash's revelation makes me doubt my welcomeness (again not a real word) in any of these stores.  Is it time to stop trying to be trendy and embrace my mid-life with a pair of oh-so-unflattering khakis?  I need your advice! Where do you shop?  How can we make this transition together?

Sincerely,
An Ageing Fashionista

What are little boys made of...

Snakes, snails, and puppy dog tails-or something like that.  A couple of weeks ago, before Atley was grounded from his bicycle for taking off to try to find his tutor/5th grade crush's house, he discovered a snake.  No big deal! The boys find creatures all of the time.  You might remember the giant toad I found in their box of Hot Wheels cars, or maybe the turtle that lasted about two days.  The only problem with this discovery was that I was completely unaware of it.  You see, I was inside sewing, which I might add, requires my full concentration because I pretty much suck at it, meanwhile the boys were outside with their dad.  Atley came into the house very quietly. He came up the stairs very quietly and flung something at me very quietly. By the way, this quietness is very abnormal Atley behavior.  Now, I am not afraid of snakes, but since I did not hear approaching little boy feet I was very startled when something slimy, scaly, slithery, and cold seemingly fell out of the sky landing smack dab on the back of my neck.  Okay, I wasn't just a little startled I might have peed my pants. I do know that I screamed and tossed that snake as hard and as far as I could, much to the dismay of a six-year old on-looker.  I think a lesson was learned. I am just not exactly sure by whom!

Letter to the Team

Dear Cougar Ballers,

Well boys, I am sure that I don't need to remind you but today is game day.  Sweet Sixteen game day! I am also sure I needn't remind you that we haven't been this far in the tourney for 30 years and it sure would be nice to keep playing, don't you think?

  I am writing to let you know that I believe in you, even if my March Madness bracket didn't pick you to make it past Gonzaga.  Just understand that there was $5 at stake so, I went with my head and not my heart.

You should also know I have taken all of the necessary precautions.  First of all, we are not having a party to watch the game.  I am sorry that we did this to you in the past.  We didn't realize that watching at the Butler house was a sure fire way to get you to lose.  We have seen the error of our ways.  The breaking point was when the odds makers in Vegas started calling our house to check on our party plans before setting up the bets.

 I am also wearing my lucky green shoes. They don't even match my outfit.  This is a sacrifice I am only willing to make for you.

You have become a part of our daily lives and vocabulary, not to mention, our sole source of entertainment all winter.  We haven't missed a game and some we have even watched twice.  Our four-year old told his big brother he was going to "Jimmer" him yesterday.  Our six-year old has been inspired to shoot hoops daily without prompt or prodding from his parents.  By the way, his favorite player is Noah! He likes the name. He swears he has heard it somewhere before.

 Logan Magnusson, I am so proud of the way you take the charge.  We need you big fella and you will always have a special place in my heart. Afterall,  I was your 9th grade Geography Teacher in good old Heber City! Do you remember me?  I was that super young and super hot teacher with long dark hair.  Actually never mind! It might only be me who remembers myself that way.

Jackson, we need you to step it up, just like last game.  Please don't double pump the THREE, just take the shot.  You  might surprise yourself. 

Kyle, you can think about your mission to Siberia in May. Focus on what's important right now, basketball!

 Jimmer, oh Jimmer, what can I say to you!  I LOVE YOU!  I dream about you often. Don't worry not in the creepy old lady cougar kind of way, although that might be nice too.  Even my grandma is a huge fan. She went and saw you play in Denver. She is also dreaming about you at night, but I think it might be in the creepy old lady cougar kind of way.  Don't worry, she is harmless.  I also "liked" your brother TJ's music on Facebook even though in reality I don't really care for RAP.  I don't know much but I think the boy has talent. But then again, I am willing to do or say whatever it takes to show my loyalty to you guys!

The truth is no matter how many times I listen to AMAZING or TEACH ME HOW TO JIMMER, wear my lucky green shoes, and declare our house party free, it is all in your hands now.  Don't disappoint!

With a Prayer in my heart,
Your biggest fan-Melisa Butler

Tater Tot

Click to enlarge and maximize your mashed potato pleasure!

Climbing High

For the Love of a Sock Monkey

Wednesday  Nash, Harley, and I set out to go grocery shopping. In the car, on this mundane outing, something caught Nash's eye-an interior design store.  The windows of this upscale boutique were decorated in what I can only describe as Richie Rich's dream bedroom, complete with a giant sock monkey flying an airplane.  Cue melt-down!  Nash begged and cried, weeped and wailed to go into this store and see the sock monkeys. I unsuccessfully fought this battle by explaining that it was not a toy store.  He won the war so with Harley strapped into her backpack, we entered.

The four ladies behind the counter looked at me as if to say just what I felt, "What on earth are you doing in this shop with those two hooligans?"  Porcelain and crystal surrounded us on all sides. I was just about ready to have a panic attack when Nash said, "Okay, mom I'm done. I've seen the sock monkeys. Let's go to the store and get a donut."  Whew!  We made it out alive. Not so fast,  just as we were turning to leave, Nash in front of me, and Harley still strapped on, I heard a crash followed by my baby clapping and screaming with excitement in the backpack.   I turned around and there on the floor was what was left of what might have once been a vase that Harley had pulled off of a shelf.

Thought, number one:  "Can I make it to the door without the ladies catching me? No, Nash is too slow. He would surely get busted. But then again this is all his fault."  Thought, number two: Actually I didn't have anymore thoughts because it was at this moment that I heard four sets of Jimmy Choo stilettos pounding their way across the marble floor towards me.  It was also at this moment that I found the base of this vase still somewhat in tact at my feet. I turned the base over and saw the damage-$259. Nice, there goes the grocery trip. I guess we can have ketchup packs from McDonald's warmed up to pass for tomato soup for dinner.  Then there they were, what I assumed were the four snobbiest women in America leaning over me in my humiliation as I attempted to pick up shards of porcelain.  But, something amazing happened.  The oldest of the women touched my arm and said, "Don't worry about it honey.  I probably shouldn't have placed that vase so close to the edge. You just go on and have a good day."  I was astonished.  Who does something that nice, especially in D.C.-the anti-child city?  I had to do something. I offered to pay and she still insisted no. What could I do?  I spent $6 and bought a little green sock monkey. Well, it seemed like a great idea at the time but looking back it was probably just insulting.  

Innocent?  I don't think so! She bit the arm off the sock monkey five minutes after we bought it!

Weekend Wrap Up!

It being March and all, our weekend naturally consisted of basketball.  Of course, there was a BYU game. Plus, Mommy and Daddy both had games while Atley was the half-time entertainment.

Harley practiced walking and wore pig-tails for the very first time. VERY EXCITING!

The boys both rode their bikes. IN THE GYM!  That's right, it is still winter here! Lame.

We went at saw RANGO. The boys loved it, Harley not so much!

Nash, in true middle-child fashion, some how made it to the basketball game with two left boots on his feet without anyone noticing.  As if that was not bad enough, one boot was his and the other was his brother's and at least three sizes too big.  He also threw up a few times and sort of pooped his pants at Wal-Mart!  If you don't believe me just ask the poor Asian man who was giggling with his wife as they observed  Nash reaching into his pants to innocently scratch his butt.  I was giggling as I watched this sweet little couple supress their gag reflexes as Nash  brought out a finger full of brown yumminess.

We really do love him!  We just aren't sure if he believes it or not.

Hope

Granted, it is only 31 degrees right now but the daffodils are starting to poke up through the frozen ground. Could that mean that spring might really come after all?