The Truth about Sushi

I am not a cultured eater. I admit to that. Lamon and I tried to be cultured once. We went to the Red Lobster and ordered a "Sampler" that included lobster tails, crab legs, shrimp of some sort, and a couple other things. I don't really remember. All I remember is that both Lamon and I took about one bite of each item and then asked for a box! . . . Not our cup of tea.

Well tonight we had a chance to be "cultured" again. We went with some friends to a Japanese Resteraunt in Salt Lake City called Takashi. It was a pretty nice place. Much nicer than what we are accustomed to. I am not really used to going to nice resteraunts. I knew I was in trouble when in the first five minutes of being there I spilled my drink in my lap not once but three times. And I promise this is absolutely true. Then when they brought an appetizer of soybeans out I thought they were like beans and I just popped the whole pod in my mouth and started chewing. It was too late by the time I saw that everyone else opened the pods and got the beans out. So yes, I tried to be conspicuous as I found a moment to spit the pod out of my mouth after a failed attempt at chewing it, and shoved it under a little plate. Classy I know!!



There were no utensils at the table, only chopsticks. Thankfully the waiter at my bidding brought me a fork to eat my dinner. Seriously, how uncultured could I get? All I know is a video of me trying to use chopsticks could become a number one hit on youtube. I find a way to spill on myself with regular utensils . . .  Anyway, I ordered some sort of chicken skewer dish with rice. It was the only normal thing I could find on the menu. There were a few pages on the menu totally dedicated to Sushi. Our much more cultured friends ordered all sorts of different kinds of Sushi . . . and were actually acting like they were excited about it. Which brings me to the point of writing this blog post. I am convinced that there is no possible way that people could actually like Sushi! It's impossible.

I've decided that it's a conspiracy by the Sushi making people. Somehow they have brainwashed millions of people into believing that Sushi is good by convincing the masses that if you are a truly cultured eater you must think that Sushi is good. It's kind of like the children's story The Emperors New Clothes. So all of these so called "Sushi lovers" are actually walking around proclaiming their love for Sushi because they are afraid that if they tell the truth about Sushi, that it tastes like you've eaten your pet goldfish Stripey, that everyone else will think they are uncultured and unfit to dine with them. There is no other explanation.

Here is my reasoning:
When trying to get you to eat it Sushi lovers will say things like, "No really . . . it's good. I don't like fish either . . . but this really doesn't taste THAT fishy" Or "Try this one, this one really isn't that 'bad'" or "this one isn't as strong."

I just think that when someone's convincing argument of why you should eat something is that it really isn't that bad/strong . . . it's not very convincing!! I am still waiting for a convincing argument of why Sushi is tasty. Lamon kept saying that, "Sushi is an 'acquired' taste" But what that means to me is that by "acquired" he means that people keep eating sushi because of peer pressure and eventually find a way to stomach it. That must be how it is an 'acquired' taste.

 Another proof of the nastiness of this dish is the fact that they have all sorts of sauces that they serve with it. Obviously they serve these sauces in order to mask the taste. The favorite Sushi dish at the table tonight was one called "TNT" It was served with a sauce that they described as "Hotter than Heck" only they didn't say "Heck" Only a squeaky clean Utah girl afraid of swearing says that. But anyway, I think the reason that this Sushi was so popular was because the sauce was so hot that it would literally burn the taste buds off making it impossible to taste the nasty stuff. 

Seriously though, I love all of you so called "Sushi Lovers" I just don't believe you. I promise I will still like you if you just admit that Sushi is gross. The sooner you admit it the better. I know it will be embarrassing at first to admit you were deceived . . . just like that Emperor when he realized he was naked . . . but you will lead a much better, happier, and tastier life I promise you. If you would like a list of foods that actually ARE tasty . . . I would be happy to supply you with one.

St. George Half Marathon: the race against myself (and my stinky attitude)!

I love to run. I am not the worlds fastest runner, but I love to run. I've done three half marathons, a marathon, and a bunch of smaller races in between. My first half I finished in 2:05.48. Lamon ran with me during that race, and in the last two miles when he tried to strike up a conversation with me I got mad at him and called him a loser. I didn't feel like talking! It was hard and Lamon had to suffer my verbal abuse. Afterwards he asked me, "Do you want to go run it again?" Because that is what a full marathon would be. I remember thinking . . . "Heck no! There is no way on Earth I would do that!" But of course running is addicting and it also causes brain lapses. By the end of the day I was saying, "That was fun! I totally want to do a marathon some day." . . . Lamon just smiled. 

So yes, next I did a marathon when Ada  was a year and a half years old. Lamon was there for me during that race as well. He even at my bidding ran the last 8 miles in his street clothes. I can't remember if I yelled at him or called him names during those last 8 miles. . . but I wouldn't put it passed me . . . 

And my last hoorah before I got pregnant with Tilson was a half marathon where I ran my fastest half to date solely because there were no porta potties on the course! If there had been porta potties . . . who knows. But as a result I finished it in 1:56 averaging under 9 minute miles. Not bad! 

And then came Tilson. I was going to get a head start on my post pregnancy running by running all the way through my pregnancy. And  I did. The night before I gave birth to Tilson I ran 2 miles averaging a 10:30 minute pace. Unfortunately . . . for almost an entire year after Tilson was born I have been running that same speed! I have been in a rut. I have taken the opportunity to explain to anyone who has known that I have been training for a half marathon that, "Ya . . .man it's been hard after Tilson . . . I'm out of shape . . . four kids has been a doozy . . ." etc. etc. Tilson has been my excuse for going slow. Because man, four kids . . . how do you come back from that?!

And so that was my attitude going into this race. I didn't really want people to know I was running . . . because then they would want to know how I did, and I would have to tell them . . . and then I'd have to tell them about the woes and hardships of running after having 4 kids . . . and it would really be extremely tedious. So a week before the race Lamon told me that his co-worker (who had recently bested my fastest half marathon time by a couple minutes) was going to come down and run it with me. Great! That's just great! He thinks I'm fast and he is going to beat me by a long shot! So my negative attitude just got more negative.

The whole week leading up to the race I just wanted it to be over already. I had already convinced myself it would be terrible. They had released the new course map and I found out that the first 7 miles were uphill. Of course I was totally stoked about that because I love uphill so much!! Ya right!  I consider running up the street heading north a hill . . . so obviously I was totally stoked about the new course. Then to make matters worse, the day before we left for St. George my sciatic pain abruptly started up and my hips were hurting.Of course that would happen! Luckily we sort of have a witch doctor in the family. Lamon's brother Spencer is an athletic trainer and a miracle worker. He can pop my hips back into place in seconds and the pain is gone. So I texted him . . . and what do you know . . . he was on a bus to Idaho!! . . . Oh I was loving this race already!  Oh well . . .  off to St. George we went.

So we arrived in St. George and I am totally not kidding . . . boys you might want to close your ears . . . I started my cycle. Yep, as if my attitude wasn't stinky already . . . now there was an added PMS factor. All I knew was that for Lamon's own safety he had better not run this race with me!  Things up to this point didn't seem to be going for me, and my attitude kind of stunk. I hadn't run my race yet, but I was already having running metaphors in my head, only I was comparing my race and situation to Job.

Well Friday night, I got my stuff ready and went to sleep. When I woke up in the morning I discovered that it was pouring rain outside. Usually I love to run in the rain, but for some reason . . . it didn't seem too exciting at that moment. Especially when Lamon told me that there was no way he was letting me run in the rain with his Ipod. Word of the Wise . . . never tell your wife with PMS that she cannot run her half marathon in the rain with your IPOD.  Don't worry though, after a little pouting and intentional non responsiveness (which I promise is not a regular occurrence) . . . I changed his mind. 

So off we went to the race. I knew I wasn't going to be running with our friend Ed. He was going to smoke me, so I just made it to the back of the pack behind the 2:00 pacer. I decided that I would see how long I could stay with the pacer. What have I got to lose? I told almost everyone who knew about the race that I was planning on averaging a 10:30 mile . . . so expectations were low.  I decided I'd just go for it. I stayed with the pacer for the first few miles . . . uphill. Did I mention it was uphill? Anyway . . . I fell behind, but I was feeling pretty good. I decided I wasn't going to worry about anyone but myself. Yes, I've had four kids . . . it's been hard . . . it seemed like stinky things had been happening, but I was going to run my best race. And I did . . . uphill. Did I mention it was uphill? At around mile 6 or so . . . on my way UPHILL, suddenly I ran into Ed. What? I caught up with Ed? What are the chances?! I ran beside him for a minute and then I thought to myself, "Oh my cow! I'm almost half way done and I caught up with Ed!" I also suddenly realized that although early on I had fallen behind the 2:00 pacer . . . I had never been passed up by the 2:10 pacer. I also knew from my obsession and familiarity with the UPHILL course map that after mile 7 the rest of the course was mostly downhill and flat. So, I left Ed and kept running my race. It was my race! I felt so good. My right leg was stiff for the last 6 miles like it's been on all of my long runs, but somehow I barely noticed. I felt so good, and so confident. I was tempted once to go to the bathroom at around mile 8, but what do you know . . . the 8 mile aid station was the only aid station without a porta potty . . . so I had to keep going. At mile 11 it was the first time I ran into Lamon. Only unlike previous races where I either called him a loser or pleaded for him to run with me to the end, I just smiled and let him know I was ahead of Ed and kept running my race giving little kids five as I went. When I reached the finish line I looked up at the clock and it said 2:05 and when I crossed the line it was 2:06. Who knows what my chip time was because they lost it (no bitterness there or anything) it could have been anywhere from 2:04 to 2:06 . . . but it doesn't really matter. It wasn't my fastest half marathon ever . . . but it was by far the best race I've ever run. The course was hard . . . the conditions were terrible . . . but I rose to the occasion and tried my best to run a great race. It was a race against myself, and I won!

So after my race I did think about Job. How could I ever think to compare my race to Job? For one . . . Job was a little better at having faith than I was before my race. I thought about a passage in Doctine and Covenants 121: 7-10 when Joseph was in Liberty Jail . . . 

 7 My son, ^apeace be unto thy soul; thine ^badversity and thine afflictions shall be but a ^csmall moment;

 8 And then, if thou ^aendure it well, God shall exalt thee on high; thou shalt triumph over all thy ^bfoes.

 9 Thy ^afriends do stand by thee, and they shall hail thee again with warm hearts and friendly hands.

 10 Thou art not yet as Job; thy ^afriends do not contend against thee, neither charge thee with transgression, as they did Job.

Of course a race isn't nearly as hard as life, but races always provide great ways to draw parallels to life.  I was faced with adversity in that race for certain! It was an uphill climb with cold air and rain in my face for seven miles . . . but somewhere in that race I realized that the race would only last a couple hours . . . and I wanted to do my best. I endured the uphill climb in the rain and I cruised (well cruised in Mary's running world) to the finish. I triumphed over my foes. I was able to cross that finish line knowing that I did the very best that I could. It was a wonderful feeling. And although the words were meant for Joseph . . . I too could never compare myself to Job . . . I  had friends who stood by me and cheered me on. I don't know of anyone on this planet who is as good as Lamon at support! If you know him I am sure you would agree with me on this. I'm so glad I am married to him! I mean withstanding abusive words like "loser" while running with me? Running 8 miles of a marathon in street clothes? I love that man! Thanks Lamon for always being there.

Another scripture that came to mind was in Doctrine and Covenants 122: 7 


7 And if thou shouldst be cast into the ^apit, or into the hands of murderers, and the sentence of death passed upon thee; if thou be cast into the ^bdeep; if the billowing surge conspire against thee; if fierce winds become thine enemy; if the heavens gather blackness, and all the elements combine to ^chedge up the way; and above all, if the very jaws of ^dhell shall gape open the mouth wide after thee, know thou, my son, that all these things shall give thee^eexperience, and shall be for thy good.

This scripture has always meant a lot to me in my life. Sometimes its hard to understand the purpose of opposition in our lives. I had some hard things thrown at me before and during the race that seemed awful, but in hindsight they were actually blessings. If Ed hadn't have come who knows if I would have had the motivation to want to beat him when I caught him at mile 6. If I hadn't have started my period I wouldn't have been PMS-ing and just might not have pouted well enough to make Lamon let me take his Ipod (which I assure you would have been disastrous). Even the rain was a blessing. Somehow when it's raining or the weather is crazy it totally takes my mind off of my running. And how about the missing porta potty at mile 8? That is just a miracle outright! How else could it be explained? :) I feel like Heavenly Father really did help me have a great race. I hope that in the future I CAN be more like Job. I hope that I will be better at facing adversity with FAITH. And perhaps the memory of this race will help me do that!  :)

Just use the touchscreen please . . .

I have come up with some ways that Winco could really help improve my grocery shopping experience and make it a lot better and a little less, well, embarrassing for me.

Anyone who shops at Winco knows that you are responsible for bagging your own groceries. But if you happen to be a little "plastic bag opening" challenged like me, it can be really embarrassing! I don't know why, but I have the hardest time getting plastic bags to open at the top. I've managed to get by with this handicap at other stores. At Maceys for example,  I am just in the produce department for an extra long time, but that's okay. I do eventually get the bags open and I can finish my shopping. But at Winco it has been pretty traumatic. It's not like the produce department where I can take as long as I want working on opening the bags. There are people behind me!

A couple weeks ago while at Winco I was checking out and there was a huge line behind me. My heart was racing as I went to work on bagging . . . but no . . . I couldn't get the darn bags to open. I held up the whole line! I don't really know what they could do to fix this problem  . . . Perhaps they could have someone there to help open the bags? . . . Okay, I guess that would defeat the purpose of doing your own bagging. I don't know. Perhaps they could look into better privacy options while bagging so that other shoppers cannot "see" you struggling with the bags. At least if they are going to insist on having you do your own bagging . . . they should have some sort of training offered. It is obviously a very hard skill to learn. At least for me.

I have since been informed that if you lick your finger and then try opening the bag, it really helps. I just always thought it was a disgusting habit when people licked their finger before turning a page or . . . opening a grocery bag. But by golly, this technique has saved me in the last couple weeks. Not today, however. Not even the finger licking was working today. Thankfully the man bagging next to me had similar problems and we could laugh at ourselves and curse the bags together. 

The other issue I have is with their card machine. It would really help if they would not put the ink pen so close to it . . . that would be great. Today I swiped my card and started pressing the buttons etc. and the cashier said, "Could you please just use the touch screen?" Apparently I had grabbed the real pen used for writing checks and was using it on the machine. I am so awesome! But seriously? Don't most of those machines have some sort of pen to use with it? If they are going to use a "touchscreen" one, at least don't put a real pen so close! Seriously. Or perhaps they could disguise their pens as flowers and put them in a cup like any good business that cares about the self esteem of their customers would do.

The sooner they could work on these problems the better! I really like Winco!

Bully Problems

I think that every mother wants their child to have friends and  be liked by their peers. I have never really worried about Drew in this area. He has always been very confident and friendly.
Well this year Drew started coming home from school complaining about a certain kid that wasn't being very nice to him at school. I kept encouraging Drew to try to be as friendly as possible and not to give this kid the angry reaction he was looking for. I told him that he needed to tell the teacher if this child ever hurt him. Well, Drew insisted that he had been telling the teacher and that she didn't do anything. I emailed the teacher and asked if she could sort of keep an eye on the situation and see what was going on there because I know that it is not uncommon for Drew to make up stories, but this seemed genuine. His teacher agreed that she would let me know if she noticed anything.
Well I never really heard much from her and assumed that things were okay, but I started to notice that Drew wasn't acting quite as happy when he came home from school, and that is so not like him. My sister mentioned that she had heard Drew complain about this child almost every time she picked him up from school.
Well, pretty much I sort of got emotional. What in the world is going on? Drew is the coolest kid and I couldn't see why anyone would want to be mean to him! I was going to get to the bottom of this! I was ready to wreak some havoc concerning this!! Drew is too cool of a kid to have someone bring him down like that!
School had just gotten out and I was on my way to give blood. I told Lamon, "I want to go and talk to his teacher right now."
So I went in and ran into the principal who was in the front office. I knew it was bad when I didn't get one word out  before the tears started coming. So much for wreaking havoc. Oh boy . . . I love my emotional self. I tearfully told him, "I've got a problem with a bully." He was really nice, and told me that there was a no bullying policy at the school and to go talk to the teacher first about it and then to come to him if it wasn't resolved. So I made it back to the teachers classroom and was a little nervous. I walked in and she was in the middle of conversing with another mother. I waited for a minute and then she stopped and asked me if she could help me.
Well  I knew I wasn't going to get it out without crying so I just let it all out. "Drew is having a really hard time with 'unnamed child'" I explained to her that he was coming home everyday telling me about mean things that this child had said or done. The other mother standing there said,"Should I go?" to which Drew's teacher nodded yes.
I went on to tell her about what Drew had been telling me, and about what I had been noticing. I was crying the whole time. Then I asked, "Is his mom even involved in his schooling at all? Does she know what is going on?"
 Drew's teacher then sort of laughed to herself and said, "Oh yes . . . .she is very involved!" Then she explained that the woman who she had been talking to when I came in was this boy's mother and that after listening to me crying about her son was probably out crying now herself. She was a single mother of four kids who's father had abandoned them. The boy had taken it really hard and was very angry. This boy who had been picking on Drew had been picking on a lot of kids. He had lost all of his recess privileges because he had been hurting kids on the playground and actually they had hired and adult to shadow him 24/7. I suddenly had a lot of compassion for this mother and for this mean little bully who was picking on my son. Drew's teacher promised to send daily emails to keep me informed and we had a really nice conversation. I told her that I was glad to understand their side of the story but that if it continued I would want to remove Drew from the class and it would have nothing to do with her . . . to which she completely understood and agreed with.
I came home and talked to Drew a little bit. Drew is such a sweet kid. Even though this kid was mean to him there were times when Drew would say, "I think I know why he's being mean. I think his Dad died . . ." or something like that. Drew really has a kind heart and hates to see people sad. So it helped Drew when I explained to him that this boy had had a hard life.  It is still absolutely not right for him to hurt Drew and I told him that he should stick up for himself and tell the teacher when something happens. But I also said that maybe Drew could be courageous and be kind to him. I talked about Jesus and how he was able to be kind to the people who were hurting him even as he was dying on the cross. I reminded him about how Jesus hung on the cross and asked Heavenly Father to forgive the very people who were killing Him. Perhaps Drew could follow Christ's example and be loving and forgiving too.
Well, the next day Drew seemed to be back to his happy self. I asked him, "How were things with "Unnamed"? He told me, "Mom! I think I figured it out! I just need to be nice!" He then told me about how he had told this boy how great he did at a project they were doing in class. I was really proud of Drew. Drew even brought home an apology written by the child.

Things have seemed to be a lot better. There are still some days that this boy does something mean or annoying, but Drew is doing a lot better handling it.
It is so hard to watch my child go through hard things. In some ways I wish I could shield my kids from hard things. And in some cases I should. There is no reason for bullying and I feel an obligation to protect my child. But I know that lessons can be learned in hard situations. I know that I can come closer to God as I try to receive answers to help my children. Hard things seem to be perfect opportunities to teach principles like forgiveness and love; and I can help my children come closer to God as we both rely on Him and His teachings to help us get through life. But boy is it hard! I don't want to mess up! I want my children to thrive and by happy. The teacher has promised to send daily emails keeping me informed. As a mother I do feel like I need to protect my child if there is an abusive situation. And I will if the bullying continues, but I hope that I don't have to take Drew out of the class. I hope that the child will have a change of heart and find a way to cope with his anger and not take it out on his peers. It has been almost a month since this happened, and there have been no other incidents. In fact Drew has even tried to play with this boy at recess a few times. I am so proud of Drew for the great kid that he is and I just love his guts.
I like to keep things positive on my blog. I don't like to focus on negative things. But I just felt like this was something important that has been happening in our family and maybe it could turn into something positive. We will see. I hope so. I hope for the best, and so far things are going pretty well. We keep "unnamed" child and his family in our prayers.

I wonder where he gets it from . . .

Often times when I check Drews homework I catch silly mistakes that he makes because he doesn't actually "Read" the questions. He assumes that he knows the answer to a story problem because it looks like a previously answered question. Many times he guesses right, but sometimes he gets tricked. For example, for weeks in his math homework he was asked to identify how many pairs of socks. Well tonight the question asked how many toes would fit into the socks all together. Drew didn't read it and wrote 6 instead of counting the toes. I got after him, "Drew I don't know how many times I have told you that you need to READ the instructions before you solve the problem."

So then later I was making some dinner and needed to open a package of cheese. I grabbed the scissors and cut open the package . . . 

Oh Drew . . . I know where you get it from . . . :) I guess I should try and pay attention to instructions myself! I wish I could say that I have never done this before but . . .