Family Secrets

When I was little my dad had a rabbit hutch in the back yard where he raised New Zealand white rabbits.  I loved it because what little girl doesn't like a big box full of bunnies? 

Our hutch was very much like this except it was painted green. 
The point is there was plenty of room to walk around underneath and get at the rabbit turds.

I loved playing with the baby bunnies and it never really occurred to me that they weren't multiplying like proverbial rabbits.  There always seemed to be enough, but not too many.  I never gave it a second thought.

On a totally different subject: when I was a kid we ate a LOT of chicken. 

And it was always in pieces.  Never a whole chicken like I saw on cartoons.

When I asked my mom why we never had a whole chicken her answer was, "This is a different kind of chicken."  I never thought about it again.  I was too busy having an ideal childhood playing with my baby bunnies and marveling how their turds looked so much like Coco Puffs. 

Then when my sisters and I were grown, we were teasing my mom, telling her about all the times we snuck out of the house, and where we really were when we told her we were at a friend's house, or at a church lock-in, or at "prom."  

She didn't think it was funny. 

Then she said, "Remember all that chicken we ate when you were kids?"  We didn't know where she was going with this.  One of us said, "Way to change the subject, Mom! Yeah, what about it?"  She said, "It wasn't chicken, it was New Zealand white rabbits.  From the back yard."

We were stunned.  In retrospect, it was pretty obvious.  When the rabbits got big enough to scratch and not be so fun anymore, they disappeared.  But still, it was a shocker.  As we sat there with our mouths hanging open, thinking about the fate of all the poor Thumpers, Mom said,  "Want to keep telling secrets?"

We didn't.

Mmmmmmmmmm.....deliciousssssss..........

On another totally different subject, we had a LOT of good luck when we were kids.  I attribute it to the lucky rabbit's feet that were so ubiquitous in the 1970s. 

It's almost my birthday (I think)

It's almost my birthday.  Well, I think it is anyway.  In the past few years there has been some question of when my birthday actually is, and how old I actually am.  My parents have secrets.  My parents tell me they met in January of 1969, had a whirlwind romance (gross), and got married in June because they couldn't stand to be apart.  Then, as their story goes; in the fall of 1970, a full fifteen months after they got married, I was born.  When I was a teenager I thought about the story a little more carefully.  They met in January and got married in June....hmmmm.  That's weird.  Who gets married to someone they've only known for five months?  Then I looked more closely at my mother's wedding dress.  Empire waist.  Hmm...

Interesting choice.  Sure, it was in fashion in 1969, wasn't it?  But still.  See where I'm going with this?  I suspect I was born in September of 1969 and not September of 1970.  I could never get my parents to admit it though.  In fact, whenever I bring it up (every year) they get a little impatient with me and tell me, "You were born in 1970, NOW DROP IT."  Somebody doth protest too much, Mom and Dad.

The other birthday bombshell is that September 29 is not my real birthday.  September 30 is.  I learned that last year in an email from my dad:

"Here's what I remember about your birthday. In September 1970-do the freaking math will you!........ You were born in a Catholic hospital in St. Cloud with nuns in attendance. Mom was in labor for over 24 hours and she passed out between labor pains. At one point she told the cute little red-headed nurse she wanted to go home. The nurse looked at me and said, "Do you want to take her home Mr. Lindahl?" I didn't.  You finally popped out in your own good time and all was well except we missed some insurance deadline for coverage by an hour or two so the good old nuns changed the dates of your birth to get us the coverage we needed. You ended up costing us not much. Whew! You may have been born on the 30th of September but it was in 1970 NOT 1969. Sometimes you acted like a little bastard but you actually are not one. Happy birthday and legit or not, I love you! Dad"

Notice the defensiveness about the birth year?  Interesting.  Oh, and of course I didn't know until I turned 41 (42) when my birthday really was.  They kept that secret for over forty years.  That just makes me wonder what else I don't know about these mysterious people I call my parents.  What else are they hiding???

Why I'm a Neurotic Hypochondriac

I woke up this morning and checked my email to see I got an email from both of my parents:

The mailbot is from my Mom.  It was this:

She knows that I've been doing a lot of swimming this summer and just wants me to be informed that IT COULD KILL ME.  Notice her personal message, "Don't swim in any small lakes!  Pretty close to home."  Don't worry, Mom, I'm pretty sure my body is already crawling with all the deadly amoebas it can possibly host.  Hey, I bet one of those little amoebas is in my brain and that's why I'm so dumb lately!

This is my dad's email:

Hey Sarah;

Did you read the internet article about the woman in China that had a spider living in her ear canal for 5 days? She went to the doc because she had an itching on the right side of her head. Doc looked in her ear canal and saw a spider in there. A flush with saline solution got the spider out. What if she had left it in long enough for the spider to have babies? Dozens of little spiders crawling around inside your head? Wow! Something to think about as you drift off to sleep. You could tell Kira, "Oh mah god Bibsie! I think I may have a spahder in mah noggin! Whatever am I going to do abhout it??????? ...........

He doesn't know this, but I killed a little spider that had spun a web right by my night stand the other day.  She probably already laid her eggs in my head.  I have been trying to forget about that, telling myself not to be ridiculous and paranoid, but now that I know that it really happens to people, I'm not going to feel so stupid when I tape all my orifices closed before I go to bed.  (Sorry Mitch).  

Thanks Mom!  Thanks Dad!

Yard Sale

School got out last week and we already had a busy summer weekend.  We went up to Intl Falls to help my parents and sister with their big garage sale.  I put some stuff in too.

Mostly old purses and all the chicken decorations everyone and their brother gave me several years ago when I got three live chickens.  Seriously, nobody gave a second thought about what to get me for my birthday that year, if it had a chicken on it, the general consensus was that I wanted it.  I got a chicken platter, a chicken rug, chicken plates, chicken candy dishes, a metal and wood decorative chicken, a chicken key holder, a big glass chicken full of olive oil and vegetables, a chicken basket, a chicken bank, a chicken tape dispenser, a gigantic cement chicken that weighs more than a 100 pounds etc etc etc.  I brought some of the better looking chickens to sell, thinking nobody would want a bunch of chicken stuff and it would end up in the dump.  The very first lady at the sale, who arrived an hour and 15 minutes before it officially opened, bought ALL the chicken stuff and would have brought more if I had only brought it all.  DARNIT!  I should have brought it all.

I finally acquired the giant fish platter that my sisters and I have been coveting since my mom got it about fifteen years ago.  I thought I was going to have to wait until they were dead and then fight my sisters for it, but my mom decided she doesn't want it anymore so it was going to go in the sale.  First my sister Beth was going to snag it and give it to my sister Amy for her birthday (tacky), but too bad for Beth, she was at work, so I put it in my car. HA HA! Now I have the big fish platter, my sisters do not have it, and my parents are still alive.  Win win win.

I tried to sell Amy's dog again, but nobody wanted her.

Priorities and Anniversaries

Yesterday I was driving around, running errands and I heard on the radio that Venus was in front of the sun and could be seen and looked like a little black freckle.  Naturally I immediately looked up for the sun to see if I could see Venus.  As I was craning my neck around, while driving in traffic, to look directly into the sun, I heard the radio broadcaster say, "DO NOT look directly at the sun."  And I said to myself, "Oh yeah, no duh."  Then I thought, "Hey, I'm wearing sunglasses.  I could look at the sun for just a second!"  And I looked up again to see where the sun was and at just that moment I heard the broadcaster say, "It is never safe to look at the sun, even with sunglasses."  And I thought, "Crap! I want to see Venus, but I also don't want to be blind, or get into a car crash!"  So I decided to take their word for it that Venus was in front of the sun for the last time in about a hundred years and I missed seeing it myself because I value my non-burned retinas.  Priorities, man.

In other news, my parents are having their wedding anniversary today!  Happy Anniversary Mom and Dad, from your favorite and smartest (see above) daughter!

Happy Mother's Day! Poems!

Happy Mother's Day to all the moms out there!  I got some homemade cards from my kids with poems in them. I love kid poems.  This is Kira's:

Roses are Red

Violets are Blue

I really love you

And the rest of the family does too.

And here is Sam's:

Roses are Red

Violets are unicorn,

This poem makes no sense

Refrigerator

I sent my mom a lamo store-bought card.  I should probably write her a poem myself but I don't like writing poems even though I wrote her one for Mother's Day a few years ago.  Oh well, I'll try out a limerick this year:

There once was a woman named Nancy

Who liked to dress up really fancy (no she didn't)

She went to a ball

and felt really tall

And then realized she forgot to wear pants(y).

Happy Mother's Day!

 

 

E is for Eloquence

My niece Sid is such a brat but she is so funny.  Lately she has been copying how people talk.  She told my mom one day, "My dad said to me: 'You're annoying,'" and when she said "you're annoying" she said it in a really deep, dumb sounding voice.

Her baby sister recently had a birthday and I asked Sid if the cake was good.  She said to me, "I wanted to touch the frosting but then Mom said, 'DON'TYOUDARETOUCHTHATCAKE!'" and she yelled out the quote in a screamy, devil voice.  Oh, how I laughed.

Recently she was laughing about something so my sister asked her what was so funny.  She said, "Grandma always says to me, 'You're squishing my boob!'  That's funny."  That IS funny.  Why do you let her squish your boobs so much, Mom?

When she isn't doing unflattering impressions of her family members she just copies what you say right after you say it.  I forgot how annoying that is.  Her dad is right.  

Jib Jab Jingle Bell

It's not even December and I'm already getting in the holiday spirit!  And when I say I'm in the holiday spirit, I mean that I've been playing with Jib Jab, making my favorite holiday cards.  Here's some screen shots from the one I made of my parents, sisters and me:



The Whole Family



Dad and Mom

Dad, rocking out

The whole fam again

If you want to see the whole card, click on this link.

Now I'm at work in a math class and the kids have an assignment and they are actually doing it and being quiet so I was playing around and made another one.  I don't have my computer here at school, but I have my own school account, but I don't have access to very many of my own pictures so I just took some off my blog.  This one is me, Mitch and a honey badger.  Here's some screen shots:

You can see this card at this link. Next I think I'll make one with Kira and a couple of chickens. 

Now go and make your own cards and paste them on to Facebook and then make sure to friend me on facebook so I can laugh too.

Happy Birthday, MOTHER!

Today is my mom's birthday.  She is the big 5-0!  Just kidding.  She's way older than that.  Remember?  I'm 41?  I wonder if she would be mad if I said how old she really is today?  I don't know.  Probably not.  Anyhoo, in honor of her birthday I will tell you my favorite story about my mom.  She is very practical and not given to a lot of mushy crapola.


When I was 11 years old, we lived in Australia.  We were visiting the Apostles Islands National Park, which is a series of beautiful cliffs on the coast.


My mom wouldn't let us go within fifty feet of the cliff edge, obviously, but my dad went up to the very edge, and when he looked down he noticed that there was another ledge about three feet below the main cliff and he thought it would be really funny to jump down to the lower cliff because we, being fifty feet back, would think he jumped the whole way down. I think the joke was supposed to be on my mom because Dad told us what he was up to. He went to the edge, looked down, jumped and disappeared. I remember my mom gasped and put her hands to her mouth and then said, "Oh my god! He has the car keys!"


I'd put a picture of my mom up here but she hates having her picture taken, so I won't.  I'll put her Facebook profile picture up instead.  It's not her, it's my niece, but people say that my niece looks just like my mom, so you can use your imagination and pretend you know what my mom looks like:

My mom, however, hardly ever wears a pig hat.  


Happy Birthday to my wonderful, generous, thoughtful, practical, MOTHER!  I love you more than all your kids put together!* 






*suck on that, Amy and Beth.

I'm 41! (42)

It's my birthday today!  I am officially 41 years old, but I kind of actually suspect I might be 42 because my parents met in 1969 in January, and got married in June.  I was born in September.  Sounds suspiciously like a "shotgun" type situation, doesn't it?  But they say I was born more than a year after they were married.  Riiiiiiiiiiiight.  And my mom says that empire-waist wedding dresses were all the rage.  Riiiiiiiiiiggggghhht.

Oh well, whatever you say, Mom and Dad!  I'm not going to say any more about it because I know today is pretty special for them, the 41st (or 42nd) year commemorating the greatest day of their lives.

I would have to say the best birthday I ever had was when I was born.  You can't really beat that.  The worst birthday I ever had was when I turned 7 (or 8) and that was because I got the gift of carrying a grudge for the rest of my life.  It's a heavy burden.  Here's what happened.

I was having a small birthday party after school.  I think I invited eight or nine girls to come over and play and have cake and give me presents.  I lived a few blocks from the school so we were going to walk to my house.  One of the girls in my class was not invited to the party because she was a total shithead and she was mean to me.  On the day of the party she cried because she missed her bus and then got the other girls who were coming over to beg me to let her come over and at least use the phone to call home.  Even then in my underdeveloped, seven year-old (or eight year-old) brain I was wondering why the hell couldn't she just call from the school phone and I was about to say just that when she handed me a present.  The manipulative asshole didn't miss the bus, she was crashing my party!  But being seven (eight), I was too sweet to be a hardass, so I let her come to the party.

When we were out in my backyard, playing on my swingset, and pinning tails on donkeys, someone noticed that my pet rabbit's hutch door was open. Just swinging in the breeze and there was no rabbit in there.  We looked and looked for my bunny everywhere but she was gone.  I was so upset.  Totally ruined turning 7! (8!)  Later someone told me that the asshole was the one who opened the cage door.  For that I have hated her with a passion ever since.  She didn't do anything to change my mind in the ensuing years either.  One time in high school I was at a party and when I was leaving I bumped another kid's car.  When I was outside looking to see if there was a dent, this girl happened to be standing there and I asked her to keep it quiet until I could find the kid whose car I clipped.  She literally ran into the party and screamed, "Sarah just crashed into Kale's car!"  I didn't know it was possible, but I hated her even more.

I hated her so much that whenever I needed to imagine an enemy, her face popped into my mind.  One time someone asked me how much I hate her, like, did I wish her dead?  And I was about to say yes, but to be truthful, I can't wish anyone dead.  To be funny (but not really) I said I wished her paralyzed.  Later that year, she got some mysterious, rare disease that left her partially paralyzed. That was when I knew I was magic.  And with great power comes great responsibility.  I immediately felt bad for wishing her paralyzed and tried from then on to use my incredible mind-power for good.  (Turns out it wasn't actually me that made her paralyzed, it was some crazy virus that she probably got from a grimy stripper pole, but nevertheless, I felt bad for wishing that one anyone, even her; the party-crashing, rabbit-losing, accident-blabbing, paralyzed stripper.)

So now, here it is 34 years later, and I'm still thinking about that fateful day when I lost a rabbit and gained an enemy for life.  I need to get over it.  I think it's time.  A 41 year-old (42) woman shouldn't hate anyone, so today, on my birthday, I am going to give myself the gift of forgiving that horrible asshole and shuck the baggage that comes with holding a grudge.  Hear that, Asshole!  I forgive your freaky, red-headed, loudmouthed, paralyzed ass!  Now get out of my head!

My Mother's Day Poem (from last year)

Happy Mother's Day!  Today is the day to tell your mother's how special she is and why. This year I am going to do that using an acrostic poem.  Enjoy, Mom!


M is for the many Medical students Dad said could watch my birth after you already spent thirty hours in labor.


O is for that One time that I was choking on a hard candy in the locker room before skating practice and you gave me the Heimlich maneuver.  Thanks for that. 


T is for the Time that Amy and I told you to put your hands on the counter and stick one leg up behind you and we'd show you a good Trick.  We lifted your legs up until they touched the ceiling and held you there and laughed and laughed and you kept saying, "Put me down!  My arms are going to give out!" We made you promise that we wouldn't get in trouble or we wouldn't let you down.  And then you kept your word and we really weren't in trouble (although, it would have totally been worth it.)  I can't believe you fell for that more than once.


H is for the Hip 1970s one-piece pant-suits you dressed me in for the first day of school every single year of elementary school.  I thought the pant-suits were cool until I had to go to the bathroom and had to get naked in the stall to take a simple pee. Not cool, Mom.


E is for the Elephants you let me visit that were with the circus that was taking place a block from our house.  I loved those elephants so much and I never told you this but the caretaker, who I'm pretty sure was mentally handicapped, secretly let me come in their enclosure and feed them and pet them if I let him wear my photogray glasses.  He took off with my glasses and I had some alone time with the elephants.  Best deal I ever made.  It was AWESOME!


R is for the Rum you drank with Kelly that one Fourth of July that caused you to get a little tipsy and wild and you got our dog Gizmo on a drunken whim.  She was the best dog ever and if you were sober, you probably would have passed by the mangy puppies that were in a free box at the street dance without a second thought.  Yay, Rum!

Happy Mother's Day, Mom!  I love you and hope you have a great day!

Happy Mother's Day, Mother

Happy Mother's Day!  Today is the day to tell your mother's how special she is and why. This year I am going to do that using an acrostic poem.  Enjoy, Mom!

M is for the many Medical students Dad said could watch my birth after you already spent thirty hours in labor.

O is for that One time that I was choking on a hard candy in the locker room before skating practice and you gave me the Heimlich maneuver.  Thanks for that. 

T is for the Time that Amy and I told you to put your hands on the counter and stick one leg up behind you and we'd show you a good Trick.  We lifted your legs up until they touched the ceiling and held you there and laughed and laughed and you kept saying, "Put me down!  My arms are going to give out!" We made you promise that we wouldn't get in trouble or we wouldn't let you down.  And then you kept your word and we really weren't in trouble (although, it would have totally been worth it.)  I can't believe you fell for that more than once.

 

H is for the Hip 1970s one-piece pant-suits you dressed me in for the first day of school every single year of elementary school.  I thought the pant-suits were cool until I had to go to the bathroom and had to get naked in the stall to take a simple pee. Not cool, Mom.

E is for the Elephants you let me visit that were with the circus that was taking place a block from our house.  I loved those elephants so much and I never told you this but the caretaker, who I'm pretty sure was mentally handicapped, secretly let me come in their enclosure and feed them and pet them if I let him wear my photogray glasses.  He took off with my glasses and I had some alone time with the elephants.  Best deal I ever made.  It was AWESOME!

R is for the Rum you drank with Kelly that one Fourth of July that caused you to get a little tipsy and wild and you got our dog Gizmo on a drunken whim.  She was the best dog ever and if you were sober, you probably would have passed by the mangy puppies that were in a free box at the street dance without a second thought.  Yay, Rum!

Happy Mother's Day, Mom!  I love you and hope you have a great day!

Happy Mother's Day!

It's mother's day so I've obviously been thinking of my mother. Thank you, Mom, for being my mom and doing such a terrific job raising me. (I forgot to buy a card in time for you to get it today, so expect it this week! Sorry. [I guess you didn't do THAT great a job of raising me after all.])

I was remembering the time that we were living in Australia when I was eleven years old. We were visiting the Apostles Islands National Park, which is a series of beautiful cliffs on the coast.


My mom wouldn't let us go within fifty feet of the cliff edge, obviously, but my dad went up to the very edge, and when he looked down he noticed that there was another ledge about three feet below the main cliff and he thought it would be really funny to jump down to the lower cliff because we, being fifty feet back, would think he jumped the whole way down. I think the joke was supposed to be on my mom because Dad told us what he was up to. He went to the edge, looked down, jumped and disappeared. I remember my mom gasped and put her hands to her mouth and then said, "Oh my god! He has the car keys!"

So Happy Mother's Day to my very practical-minded Mother. I love you!