Some Times I dont Like Living in Paradise

1. When you wake up with a shiver because a millipede is crawling on your face. Ewww. Could be worse though. Could be a centipede. Or a GIANT millipede like this one...

2. When you go the grocery store and theres only five things in your cart and the total bill is $125. EXCUSE ME?!

3. When you go to the movies and the people behind you talk about the movie. Really loud. With a blow by blow description of the action. And then their cellphone rings. Really loud. And then they talk on the phone and tell the caller all about the movie. Really loud.

4. When your daughter comes home from school and asks - "Is hitting kids part of Samoan culture mum? Because it always happens during Samoan period."

5. When you go to the doctor and he wants you to take amoxil. ALL THE TIME. Your kid has a sore throat? Amoxil. An infected cut? Amoxil. An earache? Amoxil. A rash? Amoxil. A broken collarbone? Amoxil. Chicken pox? Amoxil. Oh - and mother has a headache? She should take amoxil too. (Is he a shareholder in Amoxil Assoc? Or maybe he's cut a deal with the pharmacist so he knows what drugs are over ordered and about to expire.)

The Many Faces of the Fabulous Five

Wall runners.


The Artist.


Sisters.


She rules.


He sews.


He thinks.


She smiles.


She reads.

Lost and Losing It.

(Because the eye eats first)

I am thirteen kilos lighter than i was in January of this year. I am twenty eight kilos lighter than I was two years ago. People who havent seen me for awhile say - "You've lost weight." Or if theyre very nice people, they say - 'wow, you look great. You've lost weight.' While it can be a buzz to get positive feedback on one's size, I do take issue with this concept of weight being LOST. If its lost - where did it go? If its lost - that implies Im currently searching for it? And missing it? And wanting to find it again!? Or that I absent-mindedly misplaced it. Like a favourite pen. Or a two dollar note. Or my car keys on a crazy day. This is a gross misrepresentation of the facts. One which i want to rant and rave about.
While there are many things I am unsure of in this universe, I most definitely am certain that unlike brooding hot Jack and the misunderstood (but equally HOT) Sawyer - I do not wish to find my LOST island of fat kilograms. Indeed, far from being LOST, that spare tyre (or two) that used to keep me company was forcibly evicted. Banned. Rejected and ejected. Those kilos were uninvited guests that slipped in the door disguised as a double scoop of rumnraisin ice cream. Or hitched a ride with the fa'alifu taro. And the bowl after bowl of steamed white rice. Masquerading as comforters, they wooed me with promises of happiness, stress release and plain ole boredom alleviation. Home baked chocolate chip oatmeal cookies. Fried rice from the Chinese takeaway. Hunks of rye bread dripping with honey and gooey peanut butter. Honey soy chicken. A driveby cheeseburger snack. Three servings of coco pops. Yes they were all my friends. Its not their fault they over stayed their welcome. Or left behind nasty linger-ers who needed deporting. So for the record, please note fact number one - fat isnt LOST. And nobody (in their right mind) is out looking for it, putting up Reward posters for its return or wistfully reminiscing about the good ole days when fat was ones best friend.
Fact number two - I havent LOST any weight. I kicked its butt outa here with power walking. Running. Lots of rest. Healthy eating habits.At 5am when sane people are in bed, I was stumbling in pitch black darkness around the Sports complex hoping and praying that all the drunks were asleep in a ditch rather than waiting for a silly woman to huff past. Instead of staying up till 2am to write in the peace and quiet of a sleeping house - I had to go to bed early. Instead of eating everything and anything i wanted - I had to schedule my food - six small meals a day. Can you even grasp what a nightmare that is when you have a family of 7 to feed? I did Nina's Challenge...again...and again...and again for the extra motivation. I sought out good friends to run with. To commiserate with. To do a 100 km relay with. I (for once) listened to my husband when he told me how to train. How to recover. How to prevent injuries. Make no mistake about it - getting rid of unwanted weight is hard work. Old habits are hard to break. Especially when theyre so delicious and relaxing! You dont LOSE weight. You get rid of it with pig-headed stubbornness and determination. And it doesnt go until you face the facts. ( to paraphrase the wicked Xtreme Performance trainer...) 'Aint nobody else responsible for your fat but YOU.' Step up and claim responsibility for the state of your health. Your life. Your thighs. Your cholestorol.
Thats right. Its not my five fabulous babies fault. (Although they sure do owe me big time...) Its not my husbands fault...just because he domesticated me, and made me give birth to these children, and made me think of other things besides myself. Its not MY mothers fault...just because she was a yoyo dieter and exerciser and squirrelled away tubs of chocolate pudding to eat all by herself when we werent looking and that is now my fave treat. Its not my works fault...the soap business, the construction company, the office, the home-management. Its not homeschools fault. Its not three ceasareans fault. Or three near death experiences with toxaemia. Nope. Im not unhealthy because im too busy, too tired, too stressed, or too frantic. Im unhealthy because I choose to be.
Oprah ( who of course knows EVERYTHING) said that we get unhealthy because we "dont love ourselves enough". Women put themselves and their needs last. Behind kids, spouse,extended family,the next door neighbor, the random stranger on the street... As usual - I agree with Oprah. (does that take me one step closer to being disgustingly rich i wonder?)
Its a long hard slog - but Im slowly learning to love myself better. And how to choose good health....now if i could just figure out what the heck the latest plot line is on 'Lost' then i would be truly happy!

The Twilight Series for Dummies ( and totally desperate Mormon Guys)

I love this guys take on Twilight. This blog had me chuckling. Have a read and then check his writing out at http://mormonhusbands.blogspot.com/2008/02/twilight-series-for-dummies-and-totally.html

I used to roll my eyes when I would hear women lament about how hard it is to be female in today's world in which feminine "beauty" is generally measured by dress sizes, inches on the waist, and letters of the alphabet. I have heard 1,968 women say, "How can you grow up as a girl who plays with Barbie dolls and then develop a healthy self-image once puberty begins? If Barbie were a real-life woman, she would be 5'11, weigh 128 pounds, have a 16-inch waist, and don't even get me started on her...(edited for content)." Another favorite complaint from one of my female friends in the early 1990's was, "Why is Cindy Crawford's facial mole considered a 'beauty mark' but people tell me that my mole makes me look like a witch?" The correct answer was technically because Cindy Crawford did not have several 1 1/2 inch-long hairs sprouting to life from her mole, but sometimes it's just better to say, "Yeah, that's soooo totally unfair. Wanna watch Saved By The Bell?"I could never empathize with the "It's Impossible to be Barbie" complex. After all, I grew up as a kid playing with He-Man action figures. If He-Man were a real person, his pecks would be so powerful that they could legally be given Super Delegate status by the Democratic party. Assuming, of course, that He-Man were a registered Democrat. (Those of us who faithfully watched the show know that He-Man has to be Republican. At the end of every episode He-Man would present a short "moral lesson" in which he used a portion of the episode to illustrate right choices from wrong. As a person who believes in absolute morality, He-Man would be ineligible to join the Dems. But I'm pretty sure Man-at-Arms was a Democrat, Battlecat was an Independent, and Orko a Communist, so the show was pretty balanced.)While I grew into a fully-functioning adult male with a healthy self-image despite my boyhood He-Man obsession, I have recently become more sympathetic to the women of the world who know that they will never look like Tyra Banks. This added measure of sensitivity has been thrust upon me by one person:Stpehenie Meyer.For men who are unfamiliar with Stephenie Meyer, she is a 34-year old BYU graduate, active Mormon, and stay-at-home mom. A few years back she decided on a whim to write a book about teen-aged vampires called Twilight and it rocketed to the top of the NY Times Best Seller list. New Moon and Eclipse soon followed and they were both best sellers as well. As to her personal fame, Stephenie Meyer recently knocked out Orson Scott Card in the third round of an Ultimate Fighting Championship event to become the undisputed most famous living Mormon author in the world. (The most famous dead LDS author is obviously C.S. Lewis, who had to have been a member since he is quoted in General Conference more often than all of the New Testament apostles combined.)I like Stephenie Meyer for a lot of reasons. It is wonderful to see somebody who is about my age and a BYU graduate make it big. Her books are worth reading and she keeps the language and content clean. She also allows every husband in the church hold out the hope that one day he'll come home from a horrendous 10-hour day at CompUSA and be greeted by his ecstatic wife who says, "You're not going to believe this, but Creating Keepsakes wants to buy my scrapbook template pages for $1.8 millon!"

While most of the Twilight phenomenon is undoubtedly positive, we as men have an obligation to begrudge Stephanie Meyer for two reasons:1. Edward.2. Jacob.Or, as I like to call them, Jerk Face #1 and Jerk Face #2. If you have not read the books, Edward is Bella's deep, intense, passionate boyfriend. Jacob is the funny, charismatic, forgiving friend who would do anything to make Bella his. They both possess magical powers that are far superior to any of the tie tricks that LDS guys learned on our missions (except for blowing on our tie to make it wilt like a flower, that's classic!) In other words, both Edward and Jacob are much, much more interesting than any of the husbands or boyfriends of the women who read the Twilight books.LDS men should feel as much contempt toward the two main characters of the Twilight series as a woman recovering from her fourth c-section in seven years feels toward Barbie. Approximately 97% of all Mormon women between the ages of 16 and 42 have read Sister Meyer's books and I'm guessing that 92% of them wish their husbands/boyfriends were more like Edward or Jacob in some way. The other 8% have a crush on either Jack, Sayeed, or Sawyer from Lost. If you happen to be dating a young woman and she reveals that she has a crush on either Sawyer or Sayeed, your in pretty good shape. It is highly unlikely that she will ever meet a surly con artist or a former Iraqi Republican Guard torture expert, let alone be swept off of her feet by them. But if your significant other has the hots for Jack, be very, very afraid. There are a lot of divorced, desperate 30-something doctors out there trolling outside of Bath and Body Works looking for vulnerable women whose husband/boyfriend just did something incredibly rude, such as forgetting that today marked the 1,000th day since your first date.Since most women would like their men to adopt at least a few of the Edward/Jacob qualities, I'll lend a hand to my male readers who have not yet read the books but would like to make it sound like they have. If you ever find yourself in any of the situations below and your wife/girlfriend is a Twilight fan, the following quotes will be pure gold:LADIES: PLEASE HELP US OUT AND POST COMMENTS TO LET US KNOW WHICH OF THE FOLLOWING QUOTES YOU LIKE THE BEST:-

If she thinks that you drive too recklessly: "Honey, please trust me as much as Bella trusted Edward when he had to break all known traffic laws to get her out of Forks and away from Victoria. If he can drive Bella's pickup truck that recklessly, then I should be able to steer with my knees while texting with my right hand and using my left hand to hold my Slurpee."

-If she ever says on a very warm day, "I feel so hot right now" you should respond with, "My body always feels hot to the touch....kind of like Jacob's." You can then raise your eyebrows like Magnum P.I., flex your pecks, and put your arm around her.

-If she ever says on a very cold day, "I feel so cold right now" you should respond with, "My body always feels cold to the touch....kind of like Edward's." You can then raise your eyebrows like Magnum P.I., flex your pecks, and put your arm around her.

If she says that you have a fear of commitment, tell her, "I just can't rush into a relationship right now. My heart's been broken before and I would like for our relationship to take the next step, but I often feel like Edward did when he left Bella for Italy. His heart was with her, but the timing wasn't right at the moment." Note: This will buy you approximately 3 1/2 months. You will then either have to put a ring on her finger or change your name to Miguel Sanchez and live in Panama for a year while things die down.

If she wants a relationship but you just want to be friends, just say, "I am so glad that we both agree that we can have a fulfilling, close relationship like Bella and Jacob enjoy."

If you really want her to back off and stop bothering you, tell her, "I'm really a creepy, soul-less recluse who thirsts for human blood. I have killed before and have to restrain myself on a daily basis from killing again. I'm not talking about in a heroic, romantic Edward-like way. I'm talking in a really deranged Jeffrey Dahmer way." Note: You will never, ever, EVER see her again at this point, so only bust it out when absolutely necessary.

If you are on a date and there is an awkward lull in the conversation, get a pensive look on your face and say, "I was reading on stepheniemeyer.com that the next Twilight book is going to be told from Edward's point of view. I can't wait to gain a deeper understanding and appreciation for the emotional trial it must have been for him to be away from Bella for so long during New Moon." Note: If you say this, your female companion will get down on her knee and propose to you on the spot. Only use this line if you are seriously considering taking this young lady to the temple one day.

If she is insecure about her looks and repeatedly asks you if she is pretty, stroke her hair and gently say, "Sweetheart, you always look beautiful...in a Bella sort of way." Note: If you've never read the books and try this line, please post a comment with how this one works out for you and how long it takes for the bruising to heal.

Once you are married, write the following in your next wedding anniversary card, "I am eternally grateful to know that we can be together forever. I am even more grateful that I did not have to sink my vampire teeth into your neck and suck out all of your blood to make it happen." Believe me, she'll dig that one.

Just Added (see comments): After numbing your lips by sucking on a Popsicle, ask her, "Have you ever wondered what it feels like to kiss Edward?" Note: She will be utterly helpless when you close your eyes and lean toward her.

Well, guys, there you have it. Be sure to check the comments to see which of the quotes will score the most points with your wife or girlfriend. In the meantime, do everything possible to act like an undead vampire and/or a teenage werewolf while keeping the love of your life away from Jack from Lost. And women think they have it hard trying to live up to the Barbie standard? If they only knew how hard it is to be a man!

His First Dance.

Its 9:30pm. One more hour till i go pick up my teenage son from his very first 'dance'. I wasnt ready for this. Not emotionally. Or mentally. Or any other kind of '-ally'. He said he wasnt interested in going. Then half an hour before it started, he wants to go. He gets dressed. And hes so tall. And handsome. And grown up. And vaguely irritated with my fussing. And nonchalant as he waves goodbye and strolls into the building. Past a googling gaggle of girls. And i sit in my parked car and watch him go. And i want to cry. And be happy at the same time. Because hes a confident and outgoing young man. With friends. (and not a tangled mess like his mother was when she went to her first dance) Because hes just taken another huge step into the big bad world. Without me. And thats as it should be. But it still cuts. For a brief wild moment - I wished fervently that he was just a teensie bit socially inept. That he had bedraggled self-esteem that trailed behind him in tatters. Tripping him at every turn. Then maybe he wouldnt go to dances. Ever. And then girls wouldnt google. And gaggle. And he'd stay home. With me. And listen raptly while i read him Harry Potter. Again. Or watch Barney. For the millionth time. Or beg me to take him to McDonalds. Or hug me and say "Im going to be your little boy forever mum. I never want to grow big."
He made dinner before he went out. And worked on his Geography project. And played with his little sister the Beast. And told me i should definitely NOT make any excuses but get my butt out the door for my afternoon run. He's all the words you want to read in a school report card. 'Mature, responsible, hard working, serious,a natural leader, great at sports, a pleasure to teach...' Im not quite sure how he turned out so well. Considering he was our first. The guinea pig in the experimental laboratory of 'Darren and Lani Young's Parenting'. Surprisingly unscathed.

I wonder. Whats he doing at that dance? And who is he doing what with? At my first dance...I 'borrowed' a red shirt from my mothers closet so i could be like the woman in my fave song - "Lady in Red'. A denim skirt and LA Gear Hi-tops from aunty Lu completed the ensemble. Ewww... i think i wore orange bobble socks. What a hideous thought! It was on a Pesega compound street. Under a Samoan starry sky. With songs from the 80's. There was a first crush. A first slow song dance. A first time holding hands....OKAY that does it...ENOUGH REMINISCING - There'll be none of that at that dance tonight...Im going to pick him up right now!

When Homeschool Works.

So some days homeschool bombs. Im tired. Or uninspired. Or just plain ole lazy. But then other days everything just works. And they're learning. And Im learning. And theyre having fun. And Im having a blast. And Im so thankful i can homeschool. Today was one of those days. Got a neat art lesson off an awesome art teacher site. ( will post the link when i find it...) All about dimensions and perspective and layering and....well, its called 'looking out the window' and heres some of the results.
'Harmony' by Zion. Age 7. She says - "I would like to sit in this room because its so peaceful. And the view out the window is so pretty."

'Living the Dream Life' by Sade. Age 11. I especially love the chic high heels in the corner and the animal print rug - like i stepped into the pages of Vogue house magazine!

'Midnight Swim' by ....Unknown.

Spontaneity:the state of being spontaneous. Swept away in the moment. Able to live, love, breathe and act without thinking. Without planning and foresight.
Ahhhhhhh....doesnt that sound glorious? I cannot rememeber the last time i did something truly spontaneous. But then - can one be spontaneous when one has five children? Two of them with special dietary restrictions? And one of them a teenager full throttle in teenage cares and concerns? And a construction company? A home-based soap making business? And four dogs? A church calling ( or two.) And one is (supposed to be) following a rigorous training program that requires getting lots of sleep and lots of vegetables. ( do u know how much time it takes to peel all the carrots i need to eat to keep me from eating the entire bag of corn chips?!) Hmmm...

So there we were, Darren and I, discussing ( for the millionth time) whether or not we should buy a house in New Zealand. We've been planning it for going on a year now. Perused countless real estate internet sites. Looked at numerous houses - from dream mansions to almost ghettolike extreme makeovers. We've even gone so far as to almost buy not one, but two different houses, halted only by hidden asbestos and faulty electrical wiring. So you cant really fault our cautiousness. Or studying and pondering. But sitting there analyzing all the pro's and con's just one more time - I just couldnt take it a minute longer.

"Let's do it" I said. (Darren looked surprised and gleeful.) "No" I clarified "Lets go buy a house. No more talking about it. No more thinking about it. Lets get on a plane tomorrow, Look at the 4 houses we saw online today and just buy the best out of the 4. What the heck - lets just do it!"

The full glory of spontaneity dawned upon us. A fly by night trip to Auckland? Without our children? Throwing caution to the winds? Where we could then throw our life savings at a stranger in exchange for a house? And sell our souls to the bank on a whim? It was daring. It was foolhardy. It was exciting! And of course the thought of eating at McDonalds peacefully without five hangers-on...or sitting on a plane and being able to eat the horrible food. Because you dont have a wriggly, screaming toddler sitting on your lap. And being able to watch the lame movie. And actually listen to the headphones. Or (heaven forbid) even shut one's eyes and sleep if one so desired?! Or go to the mall and only look in stores that carry adult clothing. And books. and NOT have to stop at a single playground? Heck - i was feeling positively giddy...

But then - as it so often does. The rollercoaster ride of spontaneity came to a shuddering halt. Leaving one feeling slightly let down. And sick. I started thinking - WHAT IF?
*theres a tidal wave while were gone? Who will drive the kids to safety?
*theres a cyclone. And its so bad no planes can come here for weeks and we cant get back home in time?
*We both get swine flu on the plane and get stuck in intensive care?
*The plane crashes and we both die and our five children are left orphans?
*One of the Fab Five chokes on a piece of apple and nobody here knows how to do the Heimlich maneouvre as wonderfully as I do?
*Zach falls out of the tree. Again. Only this time he doesnt just hit the ground and laugh uproariously. Instead, he lands on the swingset, breaks his back in four places, ruptures his spleen and needs to be airlifted out?
*Somebody gets overwhelmed with RHD despair and too many James Bond movies and takes over the government with a stick of dynamite ( disguised as a pencil). And there is mass rioting. And confusion. And Fiji-coup-like-craziness?

Once I got going with the what-ifs, that was it. All spontaneity fled. Replaced with worry. And guilt. And frantic self-doubt. And a desire to hug ones children tightly ( in case just me thinking about the above stuff made it come true...) Is it just me? Or does every parent suffer from an over active imagination coupled with over-hyped-worry syndrome? How do other people do it? Go on holidays without their kids? Let them run to Kickboxing class without praying they wont get hit by a car. Or attacked by a gang street thugs? You'd think that with five children - I'd be a pro by now at "letting them go....and go...and go...please just go!" Instead, Im flipping out at the mere thought of jetsetting to Auckland for 4 days without them. I need help. From 'Psycho Overanxious Parents Anonymous.'