I Make Myself Tired

I'm tired.  I mean, I am when-I-sit-down-and-get-still-I-fall-asleep tired. Every time I sit. Every. Time.  I've also been wanting ice, so I wonder if my iron level is low again. I wish they had a home testing kit for that, like the ones to check your blood sugar. Actually, I wish there was a device like in science fiction movies or series that could just scan you and tell you what was wrong. :beep beep beeep beeep: Your iron is low and you are not getting the required amount of rest. Please eat some spinach and take a short nap. Beeeep:

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Of course I also wish I could just swallow a nutritional pill and not worry about eating because deciding when, what, how much of it and how often is frankly just about a full time job when I'm trying to eat clean. Which, yes, I am trying to do and which, yes, I am failling miserably this week.



Healthy motivated me: what's for breakfast?
Unhealthy unmotivated me: Cupcakes. Lots of 'em.
Healthy motivated me (HMM): no, no. That's not even a little acceptable.
Unhealthy unmotivated me (UUM): Fine. Then have some Cinnamon Toast Crunch.
HMM: What? No way! Protein, protein is what's for breakfast.
UMM: (snorts derisively) Girl, please. That means cooking and ain't nobody got time for that today!
HMM: Psh. It takes three minutes to cook an egg.
UMM: (in a singsong voice) But then you have to do diiiiiishes. If you eat pop tarts, there are no diiiiiishes.
HMM: Oh stop it! No pop tarts!
UMM: Chips?
HMM: NO! Stop it right now!
UMM: You know, there's probably some Halloween candy around here somewhere. OOORRRRRRR, you need to go to the store. You could just get yourself a little treat....like a Kit-Kat because you DESERVE a break. And maybe a Coke. You drink a lot of water, just drink more water today and flush that right outta your system.
HMM: Arggghhhhhhh! Shut up already!!!

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UMM: You know what, it's already lunch time in Europe. You should just make a pizza. You could even make it a breakfast pizza if you are going to be a stickler about sticking to proper meals at proper times. Yuuuummmmm, pizzzzzaaaaaaa.
HMM: No, NO, NOOOO! No pizza, no soda, no candy, no junk. Stop trying to push me off the wagon already.
UMM: (Laughs heartily) Oh, that's cute. You think I'M pushing you off the wagon? You have been dangling off the wagon since you halfheartedly climbed on. Did you not have a burger for dinner last night? Hmmm?
HMM: Yes, I did have a burger. I eat well a large percentage of the time, I am allowed to have a burger from time to time.
UMM: How do you explain those fries, then?
HMM: Um...actually, that's a good point. The fries were unnecessary and a very bad decision.
UMM: (Smugly) See? You've already ruined this week. It's Thursday today, you may as well just eat whatever you want today and start fresh on Monday. You don't have to tell anyone. It will be our little secret. Come on, you know you want to.
HMM: Of course I want to! My relationship with food is unhealthy. Always has been. But I can do this. I am going to do this. No matter what you say or how much  you try to get me off track.
UMM: Keep telling yourself that. This conversation is not over, but it's boring me and now I'm tired. I'm going to take a nap. You should take a nap too. You know you aren't sleeping well at night. What time did you go to sleep last night? 2? 3? You should take a nap and then eat something good, something that will get you going, make you feel better.
HMM: Yes, like a protein. I will have almonds.
UMM: Sure. Have almonds. I'm sure you can eat a 'healthy' portion right out of the bag without over eating. At 200 calories an ounce, mind you. 200 calories. And that food isn't even a true handful.
HMM: I am counting them out. I have a plan.
UMM: So you say. So. You. Say.


On second thought, no wonder I'm tired. I'm fighting myself all day long. Good grief.

In This Edition of Robert Was Right...

I love to bake. I find it relaxing and fun. While the outcome of my efforts is generally pretty tasty, I definitely don't have a decorator's touch. If my baked goods had a tagline, it would pretty much be: Not much to look at, but tastes delicious.

A few weeks ago, my friend Michele and I decided to combine our families for Thanksgiving. She is an incredible cook and baker, so I was pretty excited about this. I offered to bring mac and cheese, my step-mother's sweet potato casserole, and my mom's chocolate cake.

This cake is one of my favorite ones to make because not only is it super easy to make, it's light and fluffy and delicious.  Both Mom and I pair it with this yummy, fudgy icing that hardens when it cools. Not exactly a ganache, but pretty close.

I get up this morning and start cooking. Usually I make this cake in a sheet pan, simply becuase it's easier. But I felt all fancy today, so I made two layers instead.

The cake baked perfectly. While it cooled, I started the sweet potato casserole and the pasta, and whipped up a small batch of chocolate buttercream frosting to put between the layers.

Once that was done, I made the icing - combining butter, cocoa powder, powdered sugar, and milk in a saucepan with a hand mixer. I poured it over the cake and smoothed it around the sides.

photo from www.gooddinnermom.com

It was beautiful. It was perfect. It was Martha Stewart worthy. It looked a lot like this picture.  

I was concerned about it setting up properly in the super warm kitchen, so I went to put the cake in the garage where it was nice and cool.

Robert offered to clear off a shelf for me to put it on, but I said no. The cake was on a tupperware base, and was stable, so I put it on top of the garbage bin. Robert, looking concerned, asked me if I was sure I wanted to leave it there. Sure, I said. It'll be fine.

Back to the kitchen I went to finish everything else and clean up. Once that was done, I went to peek at the cake. I open the door to the garage and......

photo from: www.kingarthurflour.com

There was no cake on top of the bin. There was no cake on the edge of the bin. The cake was on the floor. In giant, formerly delicious looking pieces. Sort of like this picture, except in the garage.

Oh no! OH NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Robert hears my dismay and comes into the garage and then HE says, "OH NOOOOOOO!" Not "I told you so" or "You shouldn't have put it there", or "I was afriad of that". Which, let's be honest, I kind of deserved to hear.

It's just after 12 pm. We are supposed to be at Michele's by 2.  I used the last of my cocoa powder and the last of my powdered sugar making the beautiful, but now ruined cake. Now what?!?

Okay, what do I have that I can throw together that will be as good as the cake? Uh, nothing. Nada. Zero. Zip. A big, ol' goose egg.

Think! Think, think, think!

Then I get the brilliant idea to call Antonia, a friend of mine that is also an amazing cook and baker, to see if she has any cocoa powder that I can borrow. She does and tells me to come right away. I throw on some shoes and my frazzled, disheveled, food splattered self jumps in my car and dashes over to her house.

But she doesn't just give me cocoa powder, she gives me Italian cocoa powder. Which, if you had asked me about before today, I would have said, "Cocoa powder is cocoa powder." Today, after baking with it, I can most assuredly tell you that there is a huge difference. HUGE.

Not only that, she MAKES me more powdered sugar. Like, produces it right in her kitchen like it's no big deal. I am grateful. Actually, grateful doesn't even begin to cover it.

I get the second cake done in time for us to make it to Michele's by 2. It's nothing short of a miracle. And, because I'm feeling a bit...sensitive about it, I have an overwhelming need to tell you that the second cake?  It was amazing.

Can I get an "AMEN!"

I have written before about being directionally challenged. I mean, I can eventually get to where I want to go. Eventually. But I think a GPS is flippin' great invention, and if I can get from point A to point B without having to ask for help? Well, then, I feel like a graduate of the  Charlie Sheen School of  #winning!

 (For those of you that read this that don't know me personally; yes, that was sarcasm.)

My husband and I are the perfect navigationally challenged pair. Drop that man into the desert, jungle, unpopulated anywhere and he can find his way out with or without a map. Will it be faster with a map and perhaps a compass? Um, yes. But drop ME in a desert, jungle, unpopulated anything and I will die. Either from not being able to find my way out (even with a map or a compass), from exposure or dehydration (starvation isn't really a factor if we are being totally honest), or from fright after either seeing a snake or any sort of predatory animal. Yes, I'm THAT much of a wuss. Don't judge.

Put my husband and I in a major city or highway and the roles reverse. I know it doesn't make sense. It does, however, make for some hilarious memories. The first weekend we spent together we planned to go to the Outer Banks. I asked him which way to go (before the GPS era in all fairness) and where did we end up? Hilton Head Island. Hey, it was still by the ocean and we had an amazing weekend. And, in his defense, he had just come back from 2 weeks in the field. He pretty much jumped in my car, pointed me to the highway, and then slept for the next 3 hours. 

So for our recent trip from North Carolina to North Dakota, we were sorta kinda better at planning. We had looked at the atlas for various routes, listened to the opinions of others that had traveled that general direction, asked Google's opinion, and then settled on a route. The fact that we didn't sit down until the night before we left and plot it out step by step is irrelevant. We had the general idea - go north or west while avoiding Chicago - and viola! Eventually we'd at least be near North Dakota.  Plus, we had a GPS in my car and we both have GPS on our phones. What could happen?!?!

Well, I'll tell you. Wrong directions happened, and plenty of them. We already knew from previous Honda GPS experiences that your best bet of getting a direct route to where you want to go is to have an address. This works so much better if you actually have an address. We weren't sure how far we would be able to drive each day, so we did not make hotel reservations in advance. Plus, in case of massive road construction or traffic jams, we wanted to be able to re-route without worrying about getting too off track. 

Day 1. We miss a segue from one major highway to another, which provided us the amazing opportunity to see some of Charleston, West Virginia in all it's edge-of-the-city glory. It was kind of like we were playing Pacman, but our cars were Pacman and the city was the level 7 board.  We also end up driving through a lot of rural Ohio. Very pretty. Probably not the most direct way, however. We decided where to stop for the night while having dinner, so we made hotel reservations (which gave us an address...score!) while eating and then headed for some much needed rest. We got another tour through a city via GPS routing so at least we knew where the gas stations were. 

Day 2. Upon leaving the hotel, we realized that, had we gone several exits further on the interstate, we could have gotten to the hotel in 7 minutes versus the 23 minute through town detour from the night before. However, we knew exactly where to go to fill up with gas before we left, so it all worked out. We decided on the hotel for night number 2 before leaving the hotel from night number 1, so again we had an address.  Once again, the Honda GPS routed us through a 35 minute detour through one town, which was nice (we thought it was because of construction). However, had we stayed on the highway (where it turns out there was no construction), we could have saved 30 minutes. I'm not gonna lie, I was starting to think unkind thoughts about Honda and their navigation systems at this point. We get to the hotel with no problems at a reasonable hour and consider the day an overall success. 

Day 3. Once again, we realize that had we gone 2 miles further down the highway, our hotel would have been 2 minutes off the exit versus the 10 minute early exit route. I'm starting to become convinced that my in-car navigation system suffers from EES - early exit syndrome. Luckily, day 3 will be our last navigation day. I don't have the street address of the lodging facility on base, so I turn off my GPS once I see a sign for the base, and we find it without a single wrong turn. However, once again, had we gone to the second base entrance instead of the first, we would have been at lodging in 2 minutes versus the 7 it took us to navigate through the base. Oh well. The important thing is that we made it, right?!

Once settled in on base and starting to learn our way around, we decide to go see a movie in town. We know the movie theater is near the mall. We don't see it. So we program the address in the Honda navigation system. It takes us all the way around the mall, but we still don't see our destination, even though Honda says we have reached it. I pull out my phone and use my Google app, which apparently had gone completely insane from having to correct all the errors the Honda system has made in the last four days. The Google app directs us on a wide path around the mall perimeter and then gives up trying to navigate us at all, telling us "Turn right, then turn left. Turn right, then turn right. Turn left, then turn left." 

Robert is driving and is getting extremely frustrated. Since he's not too proud to ask for directions, he does just that. The very nice lady that helps us directs us back to the area of the mall parking lot where the Google navigation tells us to "turn right, then turn right. Turn right, then turn right. Turn right, then turn right." Because I've had four straight days of this nonsense, I am hysterical. I am laughing so hard that I genuinely cannot see (thank goodness Robert was driving). My stomach muscles are on fire from all the laughing. The kids are laughing, not because anything is actually funny to them, but because I am laughing so hard. 

People! I cannot stop laughing. Seriously, it's like a mini breakdown. 

You know  how some people will describe themselves crying when they are super upset as "ugly crying"? Well, I was ugly laughing. I'm snorting, eyes and nose running, gasping desperately for air....all while trying to explain to Robert why I think this is so funny. Because in my mind, I'm seeing some tiny little Google robot throwing up his hands and announcing that there is NO! USE! in trying to direct Robert and I anywhere. We cannot even navigate ourselves through a parking lot, for crying out loud. 

Robert's had enough of the nonsense and my hysteria. He parks, stomps across the parking lot and goes into the mall to see if the theater is inside the mall. 

It is. 

He's so over it all that he just texts me from the mall saying he found the theater. I'm still laughing so hard that it's 10 minutes before I can get out of the car, and even then, I am randomly breaking out into giggle fits. 

Even now, I'm still laughing just thinking about it. I laughed through telling Megan this story, and through telling it to my Mom. I've decided, it's one of those whole 'you just had to be there' stories. And you should have been. It was epic. 

Three days later and we are going back into town for an oil change for my car. I'm sort of sure I know where the Honda dealership is, but just in case I don't what do you think I do? 

Yep. I ask the Honda navigation system. This should have been a sure thing. All Honda navigation systems have a nationwide database of Honda/Acura dealerships programmed in. I chose the Honda dealership in Minot, ND and where do we end up? 

At the GMC/Buick/Cadillac dealership. 

Go home, Honda navigation. You're drunk.

Military Moves and the Average Family

This morning, a representative for the moving company came by to estimate how long it should take to pack and move us.

This s*** just got real. We have exactly one month from today before we are going to be packed up and moved to North Dakota.

As with every move, people ask us if we are excited. And the truest answer I can come up with is yes and no.

Yes, I'm excited to leave Asheville. While it's truly a beautiful place to live, it hasn't proved to be the best fit for us in a variety of ways. I'm excited to live somewhere we haven't lived before.

Every place we've been stationed has offered something unique and special that sort of merges into our lives and we miss once we leave. I'm excited to be one step closer to our last move. This may be it, or we may end up moving one, two, or more times after this. Who knows?

I'm excited that we will meet new friends, see new things, and be able to offer the kids a safe environment with people who are going through the same things my kids are - new schools, new house, new city, new life.

I'm not excited to be moving so far away from my parents. That sadness comes with an extra-large side of 'suck it up' because we've never lived very close to Robert's parents, and I realize how lucky we have been to be as close to my folks as we have been the last two years.

I'm not excited to leave my friends again. My first move away from my hometown showed me how rare long-lasting friendships are. I've never forgotten or stopped being grateful for my personal circle of friends that stick with me no matter what; and with whom I can pick up just where we left off, whether it's a day, a year, or a decade later.

I'm not excited my kids will have to say good-bye to the friends they've made - again. Or that they will have to change schools - again. Or that the inevitable adjustment issues for all of us will have us bickering and irritable for a while until we get settled. But that's all a part of this life. I'm not excited to be in limbo and living out of suitcases until we get a house. I'm not super excited about unpacking, either, truth be told.

But this is the life we've chosen. Ups and downs, good and bad - it's all inclusive. And I hope that one day my kids will understand how lucky they have been to be able to live so many radically different places while they were growing up. I hope that these moves will cement us as a family, and they know that no matter what our addresses say, home will be wherever the four of us are together.  And that home will always, always be filled with love.

Memorial Day Weekend Memory Making, Dahl style

If I were writing a book, this weekend would need its own section because a chapter just wouldn't do it justice.  In the interest of actually keeping your interest long enough to read all of this, I'm going to make it as short as possible.

Key points: we traded a car, we took a short road trip to Greenville, SC, we placed flags on the graves of veterans for Memorial Day. 

Point 1 - the car. Last year, we purchased a 2014 CR-V from Apple Tree Honda. That experience was so bad - so very, very bad - that neither one of us ever really liked the car. That's pretty ridiculous. There was absolutely nothing wrong with the CR-V, but in our minds it was a constant reminder of a very bad experience. 

Last week, we got a car sale flyer in the mail. Normally, I just dump those right in the recycle bin, but Sara had grabbed the mail and noticed that there was a chance to win a prize on the back. If you scratched off the box and had three in a row, you won. She scratched off the box and had three in a row for a $1,000 gift card from a local grocery store. 

Upon reading the fine print, though, getting 3 in a row only guaranteed you a chance at the prize. Still, we at least had a real chance at it, so why not? I went online and checked out their inventory of vehicles to see what they had and a couple of them caught my eye. I showed them to Robert. He was non-committal, but agreed to go and check it out. We certainly weren't thinking we'd buy a vehicle. My plan was that he could check out the different types of trucks they had in stock and see what he liked, since he's in the market for a truck in the next year or two.

However, there was a Honda Pilot on the lot that grabbed our attention. We looked at it, we drove it, we drove different one, and then BAM! We traded in our CR-V for the Pilot for a truly great deal. Oh, and we did win with the scratch off, but instead of a $1000 grocery gift card it was a $2 bill. But hey, we still won. 

Which brings us to point 2 - road trip!  Sara had spent the night at a friend's house, and we went to pick her up on our way to Greenville. On our way to pick up Sara, we stopped by CVS to return some movies to Redbox and grab something to drink. Robert and Tucker handled returning the movies, I went in for the drinks. It was sunny so I had my sunglasses on, which are prescription. Then I realized I looked like a doof wearing sunglasses indoors, so I took them off and then fumbled through finding and buying the drinks for everyone. When I walked out, I saw a large black vehicle in front of CVS. 

"Wow! That's really nice of Robert to pull around!" I thought. 

I had left him parked on the side of the building near the Redbox kiosks. I still had my sunglasses in my hand and I opened up the door of the vehicle, getting ready to slide into the seat. "I forgot to switch my glasses before I...." I started to say. 

A man, who was not Robert, looked at me (which what expression I have no idea since no glasses = no vision) and said very loudly, "HEY! EXCUSE ME!" To which I smacked my hand over my mouth in horror and apologized profusely whist backing away from the non-owned vehicle as quickly as possible. 

I scurried to the vehicle in which my husband was actually waiting and told him what happened. I was mortified and couldn't bring myself to even look at the other car as we left. Oy!

Point 3 - We got up this morning and went to put flags at the graves of veterans in a local cemetery. Because it was work related, Robert wore his ABUs. Flag planting started at 8, the ceremony was at 10. All the flags were distributed by 9:15, so we were going to walk back to our car and wait until it was time to walk up to the ceremony. There was a car parked close to ours that looked almost exactly like ours. As the kids and I walked to our car, Robert headed towards the other car. "Where are you going?" I called out.

Sara planting flags with her actual dad

He did a double take and jogged back to us. "I was going to get into that other car" he said. 

Been there, done that! It was sadly comforting that he did it too. It didn't even matter that it was our other car and not the new one. ::ahem:: 

Fast forward to the ceremony. Sara handed out flags and poppies to the people in attendance and once it was over, those of us walking back to our cars all started off together. One of the guys that works with Robert was walking near us and had grabbed a doughnut to eat on his way back. For all intents and purposes, both men were wearing the same outfit. At least from a kid's perspective. Sara was so focused on the yummy doughnut that she wasn't looking at his face. So she fell into step with him and was ready to grab his hand when he spoke and she realized it wasn't Robert. She jumped back and scurried over to me. Everyone was a good sport about it, including Sara, even though she was super embarrassed about it. 

"Don't worry," I reassured her,  "it's probably genetic". She didn't find the humor in that, but Robert and I sure did. 

It's certainly been a memorable Memorial Day weekend!

Moving right along...

After two years in our rental house, we recently moved into an apartment. Our lease was up and the home owners decided they were going to move back into the home. We knew this was coming a year ago, it's just a little shocking how quickly the year passed.

Now, I'm a born procrastinator. It's true, I own it. But the housing market where we live is nuts. If you can find a house that has features you want, in the location you want (or at least can accept), and within your budget range, you'd better jump on it. If you hesitate even one second, that house is rented before you can sign your name on the application.

When we first knew we were moving to this area, I think there were 30 or so houses available that we perused. This year? Three. And two of those were kinda sketchy looking. So, we started to look at apartments. To our great surprise, we found one we really liked that also had a 3 bedroom available right away. The property managers were great when we met them and the complex has a lot of amenities *and no yard work*. Apparently the stars were aligned correctly, because BAM! Here we are, all moved in with very few glitches in the process. This is almost unheard of for us. It's almost too good to be true...

And then R got notice that PCS orders were pending. Where are we headed? North Dakota. North Dakota is a looooong way from here.

Sigh.

So now we get to start the whole process over, only from 1600 miles away. I can't decide if this is my reward or my punishment for not procrastinating.

New beginnings are always good, right?

Bad Parenting 101

Yesterday, I had a parent teacher conference with Sara's teacher.

It was a rescheduled conference because I totally spaced on our original conference time last week. By totally spaced, I mean I only remembered when the teacher sent a note home that I had missed it.

::deep sigh::

Sara is a super smart young lady. However, Sara is not a fan of being told what to do. If you know us or if you've followed this blog, you'll know that Sara has been strong-willed from birth. And, while I deeply believe that someday this strong will of hers will serve her well, I am equally positive that someday is down the road and not in second grade.

Since she started school, I've only heard great things about her behavior and attitude in class. For this, I'm especially grateful. All her teachers describe her as sweet, helpful, kind, and excited to learn. I've seen this side of her too, and I'm immensely proud. If she is going be short-tempered, moody, and shouty, I would much rather her be that way at home, Let's face it, I think she's amazing and awesome and I'm going to love her no matter what. Other people (and I think Sara knows this) may not be so tolerant.

However. She had the fortune of being in amazing preschools and had an incredible kindergarten class in Illinois. When we moved here, she tested really high in all categories. Illinois used a different approach in teaching. Not better, not superior, just different.  When I enrolled Sara in kindergarten in NC, the material being covered was material that she had in pre-k in Illinois.  So things were super easy for her for the remainder of her kindergarten year and for first grade. So easy, in fact, that she actually lost ground in most areas. She also got really used to doing really well with minimal effort.

Last year at a parent teacher conference, her teacher recommended a remedial reading program for Sara because her reading comprehension wasn't where it needed to be. I was in favor of that for several reasons. 1) I remember struggling with reading comprehension when I was her age. 2) Tucker was the same way in 2nd grade, so it didn't surprise me that Sara was having trouble too. 3) Sara tends to rush through things she doesn't want to do, and reading comprehension exercises bore her to tears.

I recognize that she's learning foundations right now that will only help her in school and in life. I support the importance of this. Hence, the remedial reading program. The only thing is, it isn't really helping, per se. When Sara feels like doing a great job with reading comprehension, she does. If she's not feeling it, she doesn't. Her testing and class work completely support my theory. To me, that's not a comprehension issue, that's a Sara focus and attitude issue. I don't feel particularly concerned because I know she CAN do it, if that makes sense. The issue is getting her to WANT to.

At my first conference this year, her teacher expressed surprise that Sara was put in remedial reading at all. At today's conference, I discovered that Sara has slipped a level in reading since the last testing period, and her teacher was concerned since her class work and home work have actually been much better.

And then I had to go put my over-sized foot in my giant mouth. While trying to explain that I feel like Sara has been able to sort of skate by on minimal effort for the last couple years, I managed to somehow put her teacher on the defensive. It wasn't intentional. I wasn't being bitchy, snotty, condescending, or making excuses for Sara. On the contrary, I was trying to explain that I know Sara can do the work and do it well. It's getting her to want to that's the problem. You can lead a horse to water, you can even put water in the horse's mouth if you are so inclined, but you can't make it drink. Sara needs to find her own motivation to do well. All I can do, all a teacher can do for that matter, is give her the tools she needs and show her how to use them.

Sara's teacher and I had what I thought was a really good conference. It ran over by a few minutes, and as I was standing up to leave, I joked with her, 'Now you can add counselor to your resume!"  And she looked me in the eye and said something to the effect of, "Well, as a teacher, I am used to trying to help kids that have a bad home life."

Wait...what?!??!

Bad home life? My first thought was to wonder what in the world Sara had said in class. She told a friend of hers in kindergarten that she never had to brush her teeth if she didn't want to. (Again...what?!?!?!?!)  She's told plenty of people that I'm really mean, and from a kid's perspective, I guess I am. I don't let her have cookies for breakfast, or mac and cheese twice a day, or unlimited ice cream. She doesn't get something she wants because she has a tantrum. She has to go to bed at bedtime and sleepovers are rewards for good behavior at home, not just on a whim (like she'd prefer). She has to shower and brush her teeth and write thank you notes. If all of that creates a bad home life, I can live with that.

Happy Birthday to Hubs!

R's birthday was over the weekend. Thanks to Groupon, we were able to go to the beach for the bargain price of $29 a night. (Thanks, Groupon!)

Getting ready to take off

The one thing R wanted to do at the beach was take a helicopter ride. He's wanted to try this for over a decade and this was his lucky weekend. The helicopter rides are advertised everywhere for $20, but when we got to the place the $20 ride was a 2 minute ride basically above the helicopter place. Longer rides were, of course, available for more money, so we bumped up to the next level at $40 a ride per person.

Unfortunately, there were only three available seats on the helicopter, so we had some decisions to make. Do two of us go at a time? Do three of us go and then the straggler gets to go?  How do we decide who pairs up (our kids are way into bickering about everything right now)?

AAAAHHHHHHH. 

Coming back!

So I decided I would skip it. I didn't want to go as badly and Robert and the kids did and that way I could take pictures. Plus, it would save us $40, so there's that. Although, watching them go, I really did wish I could go too, but c'est la vie. 

After the helicopter ride, we went to Broadway on the Beach and walked around until the kids begged us to get them out of the fresh air and into the hotel room because - and no, I'm not kidding - "walking around outside is booooooooooooooring". 

Kids these days. 

This is going in my favorites album!

The back story on this picture is WAY too long for a caption

Details are in the Karma

Having ignored the smart phone trend for ages, Robert and  I finally upgraded this summer. I am still on the fence about whether or not I actually like it. I think I like the idea of them more than actually having one.

This morning, after dropping the kids off at school and stopping to return a Redbox movie, my phone chirped to let me know I had an email. First thought - ooops! I thought I had turned off mobile data! Second thought - well, let me see who emailed me. 

It was Credit Karma. Last year, my debit card was compromised and I've been on super high alert since then to make sure a compromised card doesn't turn into full blown identity theft. So you can imagine how high my eyebrows shot up when Credit Karma informed me that there had been a hard inquiry (which usually means you have applied for new credit) from Target. 

I haven't applied for new credit from Target. In fact, the last time my credit report should have been pulled is when we purchased a car in July. And, since it's relevant, I was not alerted to that hard inquiry by Credit Karma. Just sayin'...

Smart phone or not, I'm not about to pull up my credit report on it. So I dashed home (I was supposed to be going to the gym) because my over-active brain was imagining all sorts of identity theft scenarios. 

Once home, I log in. Credit Karma has somewhat recently changed their format. This means I spend a lot of time clicking around trying to magically recall the old format and find what I'm looking for. It didn't work. And then I totally freaked out because there was a section saying we had 5 accounts past due. WHAAAAAAAAAAA???????? 

After a 'slight' amount of panic (by which I mean a sh*tload) and much more clicking around, there was no balance on those accounts and certainly no late payments. Thanks for the near heart attack, Credit Karma! 

I should also mention that there was no Target credit inquiry on my credit report. Interestingly enough, there was an inquiry from the orthodontist we visited in August, even though I didn't get an inquiry alert from Credit Karma, nor did I actually apply for credit, either. Harrumph.

To add credit insult to credit injury, upon looking more closely at the email that started all of this, I noticed that the Target inquiry was from December of 2012. 2012!!!!!!! I feel like I need to buy a bunch of stickers that says "Voted most likely to panic for no good reason" and sport those on a prominent location - like my forehead.

Good grief.