Peace Out Arizona

and your ridiculously hot weather.

Tomorrow we are leaving for the annual Proffitt beach camp out in San Diego. And I am so freaking excited. I've spent all week gathering, washing, packing and stressing about how on earth I was going to fit a week's worth of camping gear in our car.

And since I probably would have lost sleep over it, Clark and I decided to pack up the car tonight instead of tomorrow. Amazingly, everything fit (with the help of our roof rack and our mad space-utilizing skills). Even the Elmo potty made it! Unfortunately, the best spot for it was between the boys (don't worry, I thoroughly disinfected it before putting it in the car).

So we'll be taking a little blogging vacation because of our real life vacation for the next 10 days. See you on the other side!

I wish...

Booker didn't love cous cous as much as he does.

The Perfect Poori

When I was growing up, our family ate Indian food like other families ate macaroni and cheese. I don't ever recall a Saturday morning filled with pancakes or waffles, but we did eat a lot of pooris with laughing cow cheese for breakfast. All the time in fact.

So when my sister said she was coming to visit and she was bringing ingredients to make pooris, I was thrilled! They turned out perfectly even though you're technically supposed to used chapati flour (she used whole wheat instead). I couldn't taste the difference.

*Marie left me half of the dough and I just finished frying them up. They're burnt, deformed and flat. Plus I set off the smoke alarm and burned my finger. Come back, Marie and make me lots of pooris!

Think Pink Pride

So just when you thought I couldn't possibly neglect my children any further, I went and opened a t-shirt store. Now before you get in a tizzy, it was really easy and pretty much anyone with 5 minutes of free time can open an online t-shirt store. Making the designs is the hard part but that's what Saturday mornings are for (and Friday nights- sorry, honey).

I can't take credit for all the slogans but I did have Clark run a search to make sure I'm not going to get sued. "Early Detection is Protection," "When Life Gives You Lemonade," and (my favorite because it's so dorky) "BRCAn't Stop Me" are all Margaret originals. In fact, I just found out that "When Life Gives You Lemons" was selected as a featured product and will appear on the Zazzle homepage under Today's Best. Woot woot.

Hopefully this will increase traffic to my store because all profits will be donated to the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Foundation. If there's a shirt you'd like to see, please leave a comment. I'll continue to add shirts/products so keep checking back.

Anyways, without further ado please visit my store.

And for the record, I don't have any control over the cost. You can, however, customize each shirt which increases or decreases the overall cost.

Yes, these are fake...

Maybe I've jumped on the breast cancer band wagon a little too much, but I heard this funny slogan and I immediately wanted to make a t-shirt with it. My mom hasn't had her double mastectomy yet (let alone reconstruction) but when she does, I hope she will wear one of my shirts! I'm even thinking about having several printed so she can give them out around the cancer ward to other breast cancer patients/survivors. Problem is, I can't decide which design I like best. Help me out blog readers and leave your vote in the comment section. Which one should I print?

Design 1

Design 2

Design 3

Grace

I took this picture a few weeks ago while visiting my brother at UNI. It makes me happy. It makes me sad. It makes me wish there were more opportunities for Booker and Ike to read I Spy books with their Uncle Danny.

I had forgotten all about this photo until I got an email today. It's an email I get every week- a newsletter from the rehab center where my sister got sober. Somehow I got on the mailing list and I never bothered to take myself off. I usually skip over it but today I decided to read it and I liked what I read. It's an excerpt called "Perfectly Broken" from comedian, author, speaker and recovering addict Mark Lundholm:

I have a chemically challenged anatomy, a drug resistant soul and a penchant for guessing incorrectly when it comes to the betterment of others… and I talk to myself as well. Because I am terminally self-centered, there are certain symptoms I display: I am spiritually retarded, emotionally invisible, financially irresponsible, socially phobic and almost pathological when it comes to lying. And that “almost”? That is my saving grace! See, there is a slim window of truth I gaze through every morning I wake up. It is the slightest chance that, even with my character defects, broken moral compass and natural ability to sabotage success, I can adjust my perception, manipulate my attitude and walk in the light of health, happiness and hope. I am a recovering drug addict; a product of incarceration, information, education and transformation. These have given me an umpteenth opportunity to avoid ending up in the morgue hopeless, helpless, ruthless, and toothless. I am alive and well. Doesn’t seem fair.

If life was fair, I would have been doing forever in prison or buried in my own filth in some alley right now. Fortunately, life is not fair and that simple slice of grace has allowed me more time to discover the truth about a disease that has plagued mankind since the very first cry of a newborn child. Addiction can walk safely among us because it will disguise itself as confidence or focus or passion or persistence. Beautiful words for a brutal condition. In truth, addiction is energy without grace. It is a boundless force of nature that erodes the human heart, wisdom and humility that balanced people seem to use to avoid becoming a willing participant in a lifestyle that says “Me first, second, last and always! You?... Never!”

Most people have a credo of live and let live, or follow the golden rule. Most. The rest of us confuse tools that become weapons and the irresistible arrogance of imagining we can out-think a physical disease. Hint: try using willpower, IQ or spirituality to stop diarrhea! Some things in life you just have to surrender to, adjust to, just to survive. I am no longer the willing victim I was in my addiction days of cocaine, speed, alcohol and other clever chemical pursuits. I have been taught by other recovering individuals that addiction to anything… money, power, work, smoking, food, golf, computers, sex, shopping… is treatable. I have been liberated by the knowledge that my liabilities as a practicing addict can now become finely tuned assets that allow me to deftly navigate the foreign terrain of relationships, employment, success and excellence. I am allowed on a daily basis to make a 180 degree rotation toward health even though my primary nature is flawed and my first thought is always wrong. That is my heritage, not my legacy. “First thought wrong” say relapse, dabble, delay, decay, dissolve, destroy and disappear. My second thought (or tenth if I am off my game that day) is “What?! Again? How has that worked for you in the past? Yeah, that’s what I thought!”

Oh, I still talk to myself. But these days I do it when no one else is around AND I have deeper, lengthier, healthier discussions. Energy with a little grace.

I'm not going to pretend that I know the first thing about addiction, but somehow that excerpt resonates with me. It gives me hope. I hope that there will continue to be a "slice of grace" for Danny. I've seen how grace (and a helluva lot of hard work) transformed my sister's life and I hope/pray/beg/plead that he can have a similar outcome.

I guess I'm glad life is unfair and illogical. By all accounts, Danny should be in a morgue hopeless, helpless, ruthless and toothless. But he's not. I know where he is tonight and I'm pretty sure he still has all his teeth.

Today, I am thankful for grace.

The Stadium of Fire Fireworks

We ended our day of festivities by heading out to the field behind my parents' house to watch the Stadium of Fire fireworks (but not before we made the baldies take a picture together- check it out below). We sat in the dark and listened to the Jonas Brothers perform America the Beautiful and oddly enough, Sweet Caroline. The fireworks, as usual, were fantastic. It sprinkled a little bit at first but cleared up in time for the finale. The best part? I didn't have to sit in terrible traffic afterwards to get home. I just walked inside and went to bed. It was a fantastic day made all the better because Clark was there with us. I can't believe that one year ago we spent the Fourth celebrating in Tucson. Time sure does fly.

Same slideshow here.

VILLAGE OF FIRE!

Every year, my parents' street has a little Fourth of July get together called the Village of Fire. Normally so quiet and peaceful, Normandy Street transforms into a crazy celebration with games, contests, fireworks and even a parade that all the kids participate in. It's so much fun. I went a little overboard with all the picture taking. Here are a few of my favorites.

Same slideshow here.

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Lunch at Anna's

Next, we had lunch at my Aunt Anna's where everyone was made to line up for photos- grandkids, in-laws and the Tueller siblings themselves. The food was delicious, the pinata was a big hit and my brother David made for a fun jungle gym. That guy is always getting mauled by his little cousins. I especially loved picking cherries off her tree and eating them while we sat outside. Delish.

All the present grandkids plus great grandkids in order of age.

Same slideshow here.

Provo Parade

We started off the 4th of July by heading over to the Provo Parade. Do you know people camp out days in advance for this thing? I didn't get it. Maybe I've gotten older or maybe this parade isn't quite what it used to be. Too many city officials and not enough candy throwing. My favorite part was watching Booker and Monty share snacks.

My Girlie Friends

I've got a lot to blog about (what with the AWESOME fourth of July weekend and all) but before I get to all that, I wanted to share a couple of photos of my very best gal pals from high school/college- Julia, Jen and Carly. We got together on Friday for a delicious brunch at Mimi's, some shopping, some fun at the pool and a BBQ at Jules' place. More of that here. I'm so glad my friends are starting to have babies- too bad they're only having girls. I'm thinking that both Baby Girl Moss and Baby Girl Nielson will be the exact right age to date Booker when he gets back from his mission, so Carly and Julia- they better be HAWT. (I would offer up Ike, but according to Carly he looks too much like George Senior from Arrested Development. Ouch.)

If they're anything like their mommas, they definitely will be.

Can we all just time travel back to high school when we lived within 10 minutes of each other and had all the free time in the world? We'll bring our husbands with us and have a grand old time. I love you girls!

Sometime between laundry and grocery shopping tomorrow, I'll blog about the Provo Parade, lunch at my Aunt Anna's, the Normandy Village of Fire and the Stadium of Fire fireworks. In the meantime, I need sleep...

I am a Mom of Boys

Despite a bad injury last night (his face ate cement), Booker woke up this morning and the first thing he said was, "I want to go scooter riding." Then while I lay there hoping that he would go back to sleep, he snuck upstairs and grabbed a big box of cherries. I woke up five minutes later with 3 pounds of cherries on my tummy and Booker at the foot of my bed with a big grin on his face. He really wanted to go scooter riding.

This is what happens to his face when I pull out my camera. Nice smile, buddy.

So we drove up the canyon and visited Vivian Park. I'm rather disturbed with the number of times I had to ask Booker NOT to try and ride his scooter down the slide. Sort of like last week when I had to ask him three times not to lick the cat. Jeez, child. It's a miracle he's never had a visit to the E.R.

We got lucky and had an injury free morning.