My hair and the sad attempt at cuteness:(

I have lousy hair. 

Don't try to empathize with me because you simply can't.

Sorry, not to be rude, but trust me, you can't.

It is very rare, almost never, that I see someone with as thin of hair as I have. As a kid my hairdresser used to think I would eventually grow out of it. So did I. Unbelievably, it has only gotten even thinner.

It stinks. I can never just get up and go. It is like a cyclone hit my hair in the night. It is so thin it rats up while I sleep and sticks straight up in all different directions in the morning.

There has never been a single day in my life where I could just throw up my hair in a ponytail. It does not grow long enough to do that and if it ever could the ponytail would be like 1/4 in thick and would look ridiculous. I have permed it, cut it, colored it, taken hair vitamins, got extensions and bought expensive hair-thickening shampoo. All for naught--Cute hair is not to be for me. (hee hee--that rhymes!)

I had a friend in my last ward with hair like mine. She referred to it as spider webs. Perfect analogy, I thought. Like spider webs. Exactly.

So today I showered, I blow dried, I flat-ironed, I curled it down, I curled it up. I flat ironed again. It was not cute. It was disastrous. I resigned myself to not being cute today.

Then, I put on a hat. I thought it looked cute. I would be very model of sophistication in my hat. No one would even suspect the fright lurking underneath.

Peter comes in and says, "Bad hair day, huh?"

I say, "What do you mean? You don't think it looks cute?"

Peter says, "Too late for me to take it back now."

Too true, too true.

Peter, I will have you know someone in my class today complimented me on my hat.

woops...

Was a good mom and went to the PTA meeting this morning...

where I found out today was picture day.

I told my kids picture day was overrated and their prices are like mommy-guilt-blackmail because they have a monopoly on the market anyway.

They seemed pretty satisfied with that.

Caution--sensitive material

This morning I got up and found Sarah on my computer playing a game. She found the game at school, where they have educational websites listed. The site is called "Edheads."
"Mom, you can do surgery on people with this game! It's so fun!"
I totally had to check this one out.

So we are doing a virtual total knee replacement on a 72 year old man. First we check the vital signs. Then we knock him out and prep the leg with iodine and drapes. You have to choose the correct answers in a series of questions along the way.
Next comes the drawing on the knee and the cutting, where the fatty tissue is revealed (this is all in animated form.) Nathaniel comes in to check it out.

After some drilling, sawing, hammering and screwing we close him up. Sarah said the stiching was the hardest part. I told her she was using the wrong end of the curvy needle. After that it went much faster and Sarah finished up her operation with staples.

Nathaniel--"That would hurt so bad when you woke up." I'm glad my child is still sensitive to the feelings of an animated man.
The animated doctor who has been our guide then says, "Good job! Are you sure this is your first total knee replacement?" Yep, we're pretty sure, but then again, some people are just gifted.

Following our "surgery", we are presented with a series of actual pictures of the real procedure. Sarah and Nathaniel say it's disgusting, but of course this does nothing to encourage them to stop staring at the screen with rapt attention.
Sarah, "They're using a fork! Awesome!"

She tells me that in the computer lab there are conflicting opinions about this learning site and while one teacher thinks it is fine, the other one thinks it needs to be taken off the list because it is "inappropriate."
For myself, I'm pretty liberal in these areas. I think it is fine. I do wonder however, what we kids who grew up with the game "Operation" would have thought. (I, for one, think I would have been into it.)

Bodyworld is here in Salt Lake and we are all psyched to see it. Rebecca has a special interest in the plasticated dead babies. She clearly remembers going to a museum three years ago where they had a display of fetuses in jars at different stages of development. (The museum made a point of saying that all were severely malformed and died of natural causes--which was evident.)

I read a book this summer called, "STIFF The Secret Lives of Human Cadavers" by Mary Roach. I was delighted to hear that someone else in my Brit Lit class had read it too. It is amazing the information and uses for cadavers that help us live longer and fight disease. Plastic surgery is practiced on them. They test them to create accurate test dummies. They send parts of them all over for scientific research. (Interestingly, Roach writes a regular humor column for the Reader's Digest.)

We are indeed a strange family. How many four-year-olds do you know that drag around a giant skeleton on a leash to the library or to get ice cream, not just for Halloween but year-round. I can see our neighbors, "Timmy, don't play with those Mitchell children. They do operations on their computer." Or are we really so strange? I have a feeling there are some people fascinated with anatomy, surgery, and/or death who haven't "come out of the closet" yet.
If you are one of them, we welcome you.

Aaron, the missionary

My little brother Aaron flew out here to Utah Sept. 20 and we have been busy getting him ready ever since. Talk about stress! I've been half out of my mind with going to school, soccer games, kid stuff, and trying to keep up house on top of getting Aaron ready. 

My other brother flew out a few days ago to see him off as well and he was a big help. He taught Aaron how to pack and was very patient with him in teaching him how to iron his shirts. Jay is very anal about his shirts I have learned, and he made Aaron a special bottle of stain-remover that was portable.

We did a family get-together with root beer floats on Monday night and everyone got to say goodbye to Aaron.

Tuesday we three siblings went to the Mt. Timpanogos Temple, picked up his suits from the dry cleaners, and took Aaron to Walmart for some last minute things.

"Aaron, are you absolutely sure you won't need this?"

"YES! I have plenty! Stop! I have enough stuff!"

"Ok, but let's get some more just in case."

(Aaron rolls his eyes)

This went on and on. That boy is stocked. He is like the walking pharmacy and personal hygiene store.

So then the big day was Wednesday. I had classes and so went directly from class to the MTC (which was awfully convenient as it is directly across the street!--hee hee) I was a nervous wreck. Peter said to take a pill.

We took the standard pictures in front of the sign in front and then went in where Aaron got his tag and a family member is supposed to put it on him. I let Jay do the honors. Aaron was even more nervous than me, though I was doing a pretty good job being nervous for him. Aaron remembers that we forgot to buy him a watch. I tell him I'll send him one soon. Do you want black or silver? He doesn't care right now.

We went into the chapel there and watched some tear-jerking LDS commercials for a while to entertain us while we waited. Peter was already teary-eyed. He is so excited for Aaron I can't believe it. I think it was very sentimental for Jay and Peter to be there in the MTC again. I didn't cry. I would be strong.

The opening song was, "Called to Serve"-- what are they trying to do to us? Jay was losing it now. Then came the talk and the movie "Called to Serve"--what the heck???!

They used the analogy of saying goodbye like ripping off a band-aid. Do it fast and it hurts less.

Then came the great parting. Mom's saying goodbye to their sons. Siblings are sobbing. Dads are crying. Missionaries are crying. My little Sarah girl is crying. Guess what? I cry when other people cry. My friend Diana says it is the best kept secret in the church how hard it is to send your missionary out. She has done this three times. 

I told Nathaniel we are just going to drop him off at the front door--

Aaron was the only missionary that hadn't been set apart yet, so when they sent people through the "family exit" we stayed together. As if we weren't emotional enough we had to go with him into the presidency office where a member of the presidency talked with us and counseled Aaron. Then Peter, Jay and my Grandpa Johnson joined in with the setting apart. We all watched Aaron receive the responsibility and great privilege that it is to be missionary, and a representative of Jesus Christ.

Aaron was crying and just really having a hard time. Poor Sarah is very upset now. Jay is crying. I am crying. You feel a little bit like you are abandoning them there. It is a very bittersweet moment as we watched him head down the hall all by his lonesome. As we walk out Rebecca says, "I already miss Aaron."

Went to the creamery for ice cream afterwards. I had to rush to my next class where there is always a quiz at the beginning. I look slightly better than death.

Come home, take girls to their last soccer games, Peter takes Jay back to the airport.

When I got up this morning the house felt a little empty. I think I'll write him a letter...

Boys will be boys

This is what happens when you leave it up to your husband to get your son to preschool.

(I was at the temple with Jay and Aaron)

update on tall man

I moved to a different area today in class to avoid tall man but he came in late again and stepped right on my foot as he wiggled his way on down the aisle. I was wearing sandals.

Grrrrrrrrr=(

At least he didn't eat his lunch again today. 

If I had the choice I think I'd take him stepping on my foot.

I did notice today that he has very soft womanly hands.

What in the h%#@ are people thinking?

In my New Testament class there is this guy...

He is not small. He is tall and big. He usually comes in late and has to squeeze himself into a row of the small auditorium-type classroom. 

He takes out his laptop and gets all settled in--all comfy now. 

How nice.

Those of us around tall man resume focusing on the lecture.

11am  must be lunch time for tall man, and tall man cannot be having his lunch late!

So not out of a small, quiet bag, but instead a large plastic grocery sack, tall man draws forth his carefully assembled and toasted sandwich and proceeds to eat.

After the sandwich, comes the chips, because of course-- what kind of lunch would it be without chips? Tall man finishes up his chips and then tilts the bag into his mouth to catch those last few crumbs. (No sense being wasteful.)

So tall man is satisfied now right? Silly us! Now comes the yogurt. He opens his yogurt and eats it happily with his plastic spoon. Once he has reached the bottom tall man is not yet done! He must hold the container over his head through the florescent light to make sure to scrape out the last bits carefully. Then he licks the spoon. Yep, licks that puppy clean.

Now for the granola bar. (What??!!) A nice crackly-packaged one. Lets listen to tall man open it! Now he is eating it because apparently he still has room somewhere in one of his hollow legs to put it.

What is a complete lunch without a dessert? Tall man is unwrapping his chocolate protein bar. Gotta make sure you get enough protein, and plenty of calories to keep tall man's rather feminine shape.

Not to leave out the rather obnoxious comments that have the ring of nerdy know-it-all peppered throughout his meal. (He is quite the multi-tasker!)

What can I say? Not only did I pay for a quality education, but I got the entertainment package too!

Score!

This faintly reminds me of a time when I was on a plane and a man, utterly repulsive in every other way, further completes our opinion of him when he actually pulled out a can of tuna and opened it with a can opener and ate it right out of the can. In a plane. TUNA FISH--OUT OF THE CAN

 I swear, if I hadn't seen it myself I wouldn't believe it either.