May the Force Be With You

Our family has had a love affair with the Star Wars phenomenon since its beginning in the late 70s. I can remember seeing Star Wars when I was about 4 at a drive in in Mt. Shasta, CA. Our adoration continued through the years, my favorite will always be Return of the Jedi.

So upon the release of the 6th and final movie this week, we've done it all. We've collected just about all that Burger King has to offer in the form action figures (didn't win the $1,000,000 though). And Isaac's birthday played right into the frenzy, most of his gifts centered around Star Wars, including the Millennium Falcon and Darth Vader voice changer. It's been exceptionally fun for me, because being the sissy-la-la girl that I was, I never had a Luke action figure or Lando or any of the ships, so maybe I went a little overboard. But it's been a blast. Lightsaber count: 3.

The kids and David went to see Revenge of the Sith on Saturday, and any fears I had about the movie being too scary for the kids subsided, and they excitedly talked about all the important parts, leaking too much information to mom.

So last night my Isaac paid me the ultimate compliment that I shall treasure forever. As we cuddled before bedtime he sweetly told me that he loved me "more than Star Wars". A boy never said kinder words to his momma.

Just Thought I'd Mention...

* yesterday when we walked out the front door to go to church an antelope was walking down the street right in front of our house. It was as if someone yelled "action!" and cued him as we emerged in our church clothes.

* my mom came to visit last week. It was long awaited and much anticipated. We had a great time and hit most of the stores in Billings (not a huge fete).

* I fell. I thought I'd be an extra nice mom early Friday morning and take the puppy for a walk. It wasn't long before she decided to cross in front of me and trip me, sending me into that 8-10 step attempt at recovery, failing miserably and falling hard on my hand and knees. I bled. I still look like a child with big scabs on my palms and left knee. Much soreness.

* we journeyed 5 1/2 hours last weekend to see my cousin graduate from college. Geography and age kept us from spending time together growing up, as a matter of fact this was only the 5th time we had seen each other. She's adorable and has a great personality. Her and my sister Jaye were cut from the same clothe. I wish her luck as a physical therapist.

* I really want to win the cruise Kelly and Regis are giving away. I've got my list of 19 companions ready to take with me. I've got room for Jennifer Aniston, do you think she'd be interested?

* this is the last week of school. Come Friday afternoon, summer official begins for our family.

* I want to go home. I'm trying to be patient, but I'm ready to head west. I wouldn't call it homesickness, but let's face it: I've been away 2 1/2 months. It's time.

Shel Silverstein Doesn't Live Here

Have You Ever Wondered

where the sidewalk ends? For those of you who loved Jimmy Jet and His TV Set, it ends right in front of my house. Not gradually, but suddenly and into a hole. I expect it will stay like that until they finish building the house next door. if there was a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow? There’s not. Several years ago I was driving while I observed a big, beautiful rainbow. I was soon close enough to see the end, and I have to tell you there was no pot of gold. The end of the rainbow was gently embracing a former Air Force Base.

Is it Weird That

the voice in my head has started speaking with accents? Some times it's British. Sometimes it's Brooklyn.

Have I Ever Told You

about the time I went swimming in the quarry with Jody, JaimeeLameyHairyMimiH., & David C.? That was one of my most disgusting life experiences. David C. didn’t mind, he kept climbing higher and higher, seeking out the most dangerous thing to dive from. about the time I convinced my then 5 & 7 year old brothers that men grow a third arm out the middle of their backs that has to be surgically removed? that I have never been to Disneyland without Rebecca?

about the time six sheriff cars surrounded my truck, over flowing with classmates, my senior year because we were driving around egging each other?

Crying Machines

I love girls' softball. I played many seasons when I was younger, though I was never very good. So I jumped at the chance to sit in the semi-warm sun last week and take in a varsity game at the nearby highschool, wishing I knew someone either on the field or one of the spectators. No luck at finding a friend, but I did get a tan line (and turned my nose bright red inspite of my foundation containing sunblock).

But the fun wasn't just in the outfield. Two of the girls on our team had their home economics projects with them. You know the one: it started as a raw egg, then evolved into a sack of flour, and then here we are a few years later with the robotic baby doll. This state-of-the-art baby will cry, then teenage student mom must scramble to feed it the pretend bottle, change it, burp it, give it it's pacifier, meanwhile some chip inside the doll is recording the response time and then the student will be graded on how long the baby cried.

I saw one of these babies go off in the grocery store one time. We were standing in line at the cashier when the doll really started to wail. People were shouting out suggestions and advice from four lines away in effort to help the frantic girl and her poor mother.

These softball players couldn't just leave their assignments at home, and brought them to the game, carseat and all. Every now and then they would have to stop in the middle of warm-ups to run over and plug in a pacifier. My husband, sitting next to me, was slower to pick up that they were just dolls.

The real fun for me, the spectator, started when the game did. You see, these athletes couldn't take these babies into the dugouts. Project: Babysitter. The dolls were handed off to the girls' dads, or rather, the student grandfathers. There was something comical, yet precious about grown men teaming up to quiet the crying babies. They laid the doll on the grass...offered the bottle...offered the pacifier...changed the diaper...and even more adorable: burped it. These dad's made an all-out effort to calm this robot.

I don't know first hand, but these projects seem genius. What better way for these teenagers to learn how hard it can be to have a baby at such a young age. I'm sure it's also educational for the parents of the students too, especially after they're dragged into the project. Surely there's more talk about abstinence in the home as a result of these assignments.

Something that struck me as odd: one of the mom's showed up late for the game and her annoyance at the assignment was overly obvious, mostly because she kept repeating: "stupid assignment" as she bounced and patted the babies back as if it were real. She was not into it the way the dads had been.

Nevertheless, it was fun to watch the crowd and listen to the jabs offered by other audience members. I even saw the grandmother of one of the softball players walk up and ask if she could see the other girl's baby. Then they sat and compared the two infants.

I hope some will get the message, and learn from these crying robots. But one lesson they won't learn through this assignment: how stinky and often those poopy diapers are.