This blog is purely for my happiness.
And that is about it.
No. Scratch that. That is it.
I don't blog for anything BUT my happiness.
I'm blunt. And maybe a little too blunt.
And this blog is strictly for me to be myself and be blunt.
I talk about what happens in my daily life, while I'm a teen.
Sadly, you are only a teen for seven years, and I only have about three and a half years left.
So follow me as I discover what it truly means to be a teen.

ps. Check out this website.



Dear mothers,
I applaud you!

On Saturday I was given three little girls under the age of seven to care for.
For four days.
Four days? You may say. That's it?
ohh. Four days is a lot. Four days is a lot with three kids, and having parenthood thrown on you. Now I understand why most people have kids usually one at a time. (Except for the occasional twins, triplets, and from there on, chaos.)
I have always thought that I am quite good with kids. I love them, and usually (not to toot my own horn) they love me. (toot toot).
But. Babysitting for a couple of hours, and actually having kids is really different.
I understand, that these kids aren't really mine, but at the moment I feel like I have the motherhood responsibilities. I also understand that four days compared to a life time is a lot different.


Now, I'm not going to go into details about the drama that has been happening around the house. Because, keep in mind that these children are girls. Girl equal way too much drama for one person to handle. So I would spend way too much time typing. I can though, give you a little taste of my experience.

The middle girl, has to wear her heels everywhere. Heaven help you if you take away her heels.
The youngest fell of the edge of the bathtub and hit her head on the toilet.
They all love junk food. But what kid doesn't?
We made cookies, they ate some of the flour, and enjoyed it. I'm not sure if I am more concerned about the flour or the junk food.
One of them asked for a banana, but with my fear and hatred of bananas I denied her, and distracted her with a more liquid fruit. Orange juice. Sheesh. I'm healthy.
They all love milk. Especially the youngest.
Poopie diapers are never fun.
Eldest children defiantly have a similar trait, they know how to work the system. And yes, being the oldest I am referring to my ability to work the system also.
The youngest fell off the chair.
A little love goes a long way.
Bed time equals rest your brain with mindless television and a quiet house for parents.
The youngest fell off of the bed.
Friends are always welcome to play, as long as they play at their house; dirty houses are hard enough, I don't need another child to add to the mess. Thanks.
The youngest hit herself in the head with a huge bead necklace.
Grandparents are an awesome way to get a little peace. I now understand why I would always go to the G-parent's house when I was wee little.
The youngest fell down the stairs.
The youngest is accident prone.
The oldest loves her mommy and reading. So when mommy records her voice reading a book, she is in pure bliss.
The middle child loves to play doctor, even though it may resemble some sort of horror film.
Crafts are time-wasters from heaven.
There is no such thing as sleeping in, when you have three children. Goodbye waking up at noon...

I have one more day.
Pray. Please.

Thank you mothers(and fathers) for everything.
You are appreciated. A lot. A lot. A lot.

Sweet dreams-


Typing for the heck of it.

I have a fish.
It's orangeish blueish.
Well technically Lexi, Maegan, and I have a fish. It is a birthday present gone bad, and nobody likes it. So I will be selling this fish, maybe I'll earn a cent or two. But my guess is nobody will want a used fish. So slowly, the classic ol' toilet bowl flush seems like a good dance for the fish to dance. But. Probably not.

So I'm looking at this fish, and I feel bad for it. I haven't cleaned the fishes' bowl in, forever. I can't really see through it, and that is somewhat really gross. I feel as if I should clean it, but my laziness is kicking in and telling me not to. So I won't. Poor fish.

Oh ya. It has a name.

Actually, let's talk about Saturday first.
Saturday was the epitome of Summer. Jonathan, Lexi, John (although he ditched us for some foxy lady that I have no idea who she is), and I went to the Highland Fling later in the evening. So we slowly became bored, and had nothing to do.
So we went to Pizza Pie and bought an Oreo pizza to eat while sitting on our little rumps and watch the fireworks. After, we went to my house and as usual, played on my trampoline. Lexi left and then Jonathan and I called this stalker girl 21 times. It was too good.

Alright. Sunday was terrible. First off, I was late for church and missed the sacrament. Do you want to know why I was late? I broke my freakin' heel. I thought that only happens in the movies! Well, surprise! It doesn't. After spending about a good ten minutes looking for black shoes I found some in my closet. Go figure. Sunday school. Sunday school. Sunday school. Let's just say it went awful, and right after I went home crying.

I do not think it is right to judge another person's testimony. At all. Please don't tell me that I am not led by the Holy Ghost when I bear my testimony just because I am a logical person. You have no idea what my relationship with my Heavenly Father is like, and that is just plain disgusting to judge it. I love my Heavenly Father. Big whoop, I'm a logical person. That doesn't affect my spirituality at all. So please don't say it is.



I love dumb people.

Yesterday. Well, right now it is 1:05 am, so technically you would say two days ago. I was in my first accident. And it shook me up, a lot.


I rear ended a lady's car, going about ONE MPH. I wasn't even pressing on the gas. What does she do? That's right. Calls the cops. Why? Good question. She didn't even go and look at the damage before she called them. She just decided that she was too important and her car was injured in someway or another that she shouldn't even bother to get out of the car. I do have to say that her car was hurt, a plastic plug for the hitch was cracked. That was it.
I received a ticket.
I hate that lady.

So. My parents weren't mad at all. And I was so sad that they didn't ground me and take away my car. Psh. I bet that is what that mean dumb lady wanted, loser.

My dad had a work party, that he forced the whole family to go to. The entire time I met overweight, balding, and aging men. It was a blast.
Later in the night, Jonathan, Nathan, Alexa, Lexi, Jonah, and myself decided that a scary movie would be exciting. But boy was I wrong. I guess, I somewhat forgot how much I hate scary movies, and that I am a huge pansy.....
Let's just say, I left, and drug Jonah along with me.

Thanks Jonah.

Today, or yesterday if you are referring to before midnight, I went to the art festival in Park City with Jonah and his good ol' family. To sum it up, it was a blast, I love his family, and I got a super cool ring from Jonah.

A horse ring.
Made out of a beer bottle.
That's right.

God be with you til we meet again.



That would be the time that I am typing this. I consider it morning still, yet some people consider it mid-day. Although, shouldn't mid-day be the exact mid-day? With no exceptions? Mid-day should be exactly at noon, not a minute earlier, not a minute later. So, I am going to say that right now at 10:54, it's morning.

This Summer has somewhat bedridden me. It seems that when I wake up I have already wasted half of my day. Which is somewhat true, when you consider that I usually wake up around Mid-day. (Notice I said around, and am not implying that I woke up right at noon, but around it.) I like sleeping, I mean who doesn't? Sleeping lets you, well, sleep. And sleep is good in my book. Really good.

Today, I was woken up by screaming little children. Ohh screaming little children are my favorite! No. Actually that was a lie. A big juicy lie. Max sorta sounds like a girl when he screams. May puberty have mercy on him. In an hour and a half little children are going to come running up to my house ready for a truly fantastic time at Kangaroo Zoo for Max's birthday.

Max has turned four, even though he looks like a five year old, and has looked four for the the last two years.

Did you follow that?
Confusing? ..... Maybe.

So I've been lying in my bed ever since those screaming children, also known as my siblings, woken me up from a deep slumber. Silly children.

I like just lying in my bed. I especially like lying in my bed listening to music.

Well. I'm hungry. So instead of imagining of food, like I have been for the last hour, I will take some action and head downstairs to the fridge.

Top of the mornin' to ya.