Jump on it

There he is. The devil.

So, I saw my personal trainer again this morning.

 I've been out of the gym and not working out for a few weeks now.

I told him that I had 'fallen off the wagon'.

To which he replied

"You're about to jump back on it".

Then he literally laughed every time I said

"My arms hurt" or "do I have to do another set?"

Pure evil.

That man is pure evil.

Lori Ann

p.s.- Today is the Kat Rat's first day of kindergarten! I wish her the bestest of all best days of school ever!

Lori Ann

The carousel of time

Can someone explain to me how this crazy baby (featured above) is going to start kindergarten in two days?

It was just yesterday that the four Monrobies were these small, strange creatures that ran willy nilly through all of our lives.

Selling pre-licked cookies by the side of the road, singing along to the little Einsteins, starting secret clubs in the forest, going to rubber duck regattas, excited for bedtime stories.

Wild, crazy, intense, mess making, but incredibly sweet babies.

 Every single one of them.

We hadn't had any babies in our family for over 20 years and then suddenly we had 4.

Now we have none.

And yes, I'm listening to Joni Mitchell on repeat track.

 Circle Game.

Next up is 'Sunrise, Sunset'. 

Lori Ann

Saving all your food stamps and burning down the trailer park

Random Saturday Afternoon Updates

(the I'm too lazy to upload pictures edition)

This is the first time in TSC history that my title really is just song lyrics I like and has nothing at all to do with the post. Which is probably hard to believe because I get that most of my post titles seem completely pointless. But they always have meaning to me. 

Anyway...

I am going to dye my hair "brown/black" tonight. Danielle has already proclaimed it (upon seeing the box) "greasy black". Jealous, much? 

I've downloaded 4 of the books on my 100 greatest books list. And before you ask, no, I still haven't finished the last 100 pages of Moby Dick. Melville is KILLING me. 

I'm kind of tired of supporting artists that I don't agree with. Not that I don't appreciate that art is more than a person's politics or life choices but I think I'm going to start voting not just with my ballot but with my wallet as well. Sorry, Lady Gaga. I'm going to miss our nights singing "Telephone" together while I dance alone in my room.

It's weird how I'm seeing everything from my patriarchal blessing coming to pass. It talks about me finding a desire to strengthen and refine my body and my seeking out the most uplifting in music, etc. And having compassion for people and meeting them where they are. I pray for that every single day before I meet with my first client- that I can meet them where they are. 

Speaking of which, being a therapist has freed me in so many way. I used to think that I had to be a certain way. A way that would make everyone happy all the time. But I've kind of embraced that I can be who I am, even if people don't understand and like it. I've said it enough to other people that it's finally sunk in with me. Thanks, therapy. 

Danielle and my dad leave for Paris in about 4 days. I'm debating whether I will end up: A. accidentally burning down her house, B. getting one of the children injured through my negligence, or C. become a modern day Mary Poppins that will bring joy and order to my sister's children's lives. 

I know what you are all thinking...probably a combination of A and B, right? Yeah, I vote for that one too:) 

I put on my pumpkin spice lotion this morning. I promised myself I'd wait for Sept 1st, but I couldn't stand the wait. I am now declaring it OFFICIALLY FALL!!! 

Oh my gosh, it makes me so happy to say it, even if the weather doesn't quite agree yet.

Lori Ann

Talk and talk about you and what you need

You guys, this will be my 718 post.

 Good lord, what I am talking about on this blog that requires 718 posts?

Since this is such a momentous occasion, I should probably blog about important stuff.

Here we go...

I gave a presentation at work yesterday.

 The main feature of this presentation was chocolate-peanut butter rice krispy treats.

Made by my dad.

 YES.

It bothers me that I don't know geographically where Syria is.

I don't even know the names of most of the towns in the county I live in.

 What does that say about me?

I can't tell the political mood of the country anymore.

 There are moments when I think (and hope!) we are swinging right and then moments (umm..the VMA's) when I think we are on a one way train to left land.

I need to give up the ginger ale.

I've got Jeff Buckley's Hallelujah on repeat track in my office.

 I am writing this one minute and finishing evals the other.

I went to bed last night at 8 pm.

8 pm, people.

I wish I could have brought the kids to the 50th anniversary of the March on DC.

 Except, it seems like conservatives weren't really invited.

Not sure how Dr. King would feel about that.

Speaking of Martin Luther, one of my life goals is to tape my complaints about the LDS church to the same church doors that Martin Luther nailed his 99 Theses.

 Like "I want 2 hours, not 3" and " Bring back refreshments after baptisms".

This time next week Danielle will be in Paris.

 And I will be rummaging through her house, taking stuff that I want.

Lori Ann

A land down under

You know how everyone has that one non American friend?

That one that you refer to when you are kind of in a hipster type mood?

"This is my best friend Sven..he's Croatian".

It makes you seem super cool and well traveled to your friends.

Well, TSC is so anti-hipster, but I will admit...

I do have that friend.

Introducing my VERY FAVORITE Australian EVER..

Sarah

Sarah and I met on a strange tour bus in the middle of Europe.

In 2007, I went on a two week Contiki tour of Europe. Like 11 cities in 12 days or something.

Contiki; by the way, is code for "everyone on this bus will be drunk and mildly hostile"

Anyway, Sarah and I became travel companions.

She taught me Australian slang.

She saved me seats.

She ran through the streets of Amsterdam with me.

(well...she ran, I sped walked, yelling "just leave me!")

She tried weird foods with me.

We walked down the Spanish Stairs together, through the gates of a concentration camp together.

We rode a gondola through a tiny Venice canal and saw Paris from the top of the Eiffel Tower.

We somehow avoided pot together and whistled at hot tranvestite hookers together.

Every picture I have of myself in Europe was taken by Sarah.

She is hilarious, 'no worries', scary smart, kind to strangers, a good friend; and perhaps most important, part American. 

And she needs to get herself and her adorable husband out here to visit ASAP!

Check out her new (and super cool) blog out in my sidebar. ====>>>>>

(where she talks about getting ready for Halloween now that it's spring. So strangely awesome)

 Lori "yeah, I have an Australian friend" Ann

There's a good energy in the gym

So my personal trainer texted me this morning.

"We miss you at the gym!"

Ugh.

Despite my "hang on by the tips of your fingers" post last week, I haven't really gotten motivated to work out and get back to the gym.

Yes, both of my feet have had various issues but there nothing I couldn't work around.

I only walked 3 miles total last week.

I didn't even get to the gym ONCE.

I know this feeling.

This is the top of the icy hill, about to go down the slippery slope of laziness.

This is one of the hardest battles I have ever fought. My head will start with me, giving me a million and one reasons not to go the the gym, not to walk, not to do ANYTHING except veg out in front of the TV and go to bed early.

My brain has the sweet, seductive voice of the devil. 

"You've had a long day of dealing with other people's mental health issues, give yourself a break"

"You can get up early tomorrow and do it. That will be awesome!"

" You are so tired. Just give yourself the night off. One night won't kill you"

" Go home, go to bed early, and then tomorrow, you can really focus and get started!"

I've thought all of these things in the last 5 minutes. (because I brought my workout clothes and am planning to go to the gym after work)

This time it has to be different. I want a different life. I want a different body. I don't want anything to slow me down anymore.  

So...

I'm signing up for another 12 (expensive) sessions with my trainer.

I was going to try and do it on my own but I need the accountability and the encouragement.

Back to the gym we go....

Lori Ann

And I'm just dreaming

 

The unofficial 4th Hinsdale sister- our cousin Lisa



This blog has no true theme. Sometimes it's a recipe book. Sometimes it's an obsessive aunt's video diary. Other times it resembles nothing more than a middle schooler's journal.

But I've decided to not care. More than anything, I want it to be something my nieces and nephews can read when they are older and learn about me, their family, and their lives when they were young.

So, with that said...here is the final Jersey post.

The untold stories of the Jersey Shore.

So, at our sub par Comfort Inn, Uncle Dave ended up sharing a suite (a suite!) with the boys. You'd think it would be a late night party and frat house atmosphere, right?

 Wrong.

I went to check on the boys on Sunday morning and found the boys up, watching cartoons in the one room next to an empty pizza box and tipped over soda bottles. I asked where Uncle David was and they pointed to the door leading into the other room of the suite. "He's in there and he's not to be disturbed".

Oh my gosh. Though he has three sisters, Dave is by far the biggest prima donna of our family for sure:)

When we got the church, my sister's kids were given the opportunity to do a musical number. "I am a child of God". It was the four of them and our 8 year old cousin Emma. It started out rough and got worse from there. Only James sang the first verse. None of them knew the second or third verse. Although James gamely sang the first verse over and over. It was the most amazing musical number in my 33 years as a Mormon. And that's saying something. 

The splat (or slop) pig incident was our biggest vacation meltdown. After 7 hours on the beach and boardwalk I made the wise decision to take Danielle's kids to an arcade. Which turned out to be half casino/half arcade. Elly won a pink squishy ball called a 'splat pig'. Within three minutes, the splat pig had exploded all over the arcade floor. Elly proceeded to have an exorcist like screaming and crying fit that lasted like 20 solid minutes. Until a kind stranger gave her enough tickets to get another one. That splat pig dream lives on.

And lastly, the sunscreen incident. On these trips we go on, it's always clear that Danielle is the mom. It's clear because: She has the mom muscles to carry any of them any length of distance if needed, she isn't having a raging fit meltdown with them after 10 minutes, she isn't saying 'yes' to every donut, pretzel, and candy they reach for, AND..she doesn't let them apply their own sunscreen. Which I did. Which led to James being labeled "the masked avenger" by my dad for the strange pattern of sunburn on his face.

So..the long, probably boring to people who weren't there, stories of the great Shore trip of 2013. May we have many more Shore stories to come!

Lori Ann