Glitch, the Prose Version

It is official. There is a Mr. and a Mrs. Mitch. They both said yes. And then they kissed. And then there were pictures. And food. And cake. And dancing. And glow-ria sticks. And sparklers. And watching of Mitch's back as he raced off to his honeymoon in a Mercedes driven by a 16 year old chaufer with a cap. I almost checked for skid marks.

Here are a few highlights of the Event of the 21st Century:

Highlight #1

Having a swig of red wine before attending the temple. Thursday, His Lady Gloria Tibbitts went to the temple for the 1st time. Prior to the temple visit, the hotel I was staying at was having BBQ night. I was by myself and went through the line with the other hotel guests. At the beverage counter, I passed on the beer and went straight for the red wine. I thought the carafe with purple liquid in it was grape juice. I didn't make the connection until it was in my mouth. Classic Mommacita manuever. (one must refrain from any embibing if one expects to enter any temple.) I know what you are thinking. OF COURSE I spit it out. In front of my newly pregnant daughter in law Jenny (who arrived in the nic of time, spit wise). I'm sure the mother-in-law-gross-o-meter went off the scales for her. Right after the swig I was filled with fear and dread that I would have to sit by Gloria's mother and she would smell my al-kie breath. Good Grief.

Highlight #2:

Having a swig of red wine before attending the temple. I now know that I do not have a taste for wine out of a box or probably any wine at all. Case closed. I highly recomend ice water as your beverage of choice. Cool. Refreshing. Doesn't taste like Easter Egg dye.

Highlight #3:

Strawberry crepes at the Tibbitts home Thursday night. Mine was made by His Lady Gloria Whats Her Name and she put everything on it: Fresh Strawberries, Nutella, whipped cream, sugar, the works. I must say the Nutella was a delightful taste sensation in a strawberry crepe. Deeeeeeeeelish. And did you catch the part about my daughter in law serving me? I'm a lucky ducky.

Highlight #4

We had a dinner with the two families on Friday night. Delicious seafood. I had everyone introduce themselves. When it was Tim's mom's turn, she talked about Mitch, told stories, said her grandchildren were perfect, but what brought the house down was when she mentioned Tim and then she pointed/gestured/swept her arm to the ceiling. I thought my kids were going to bust open. Dubers however, was wishing that she had tapped on her chest before she did it. Yo Yo Yo granma-ma. Insert rappy hand gesture here.

Highlight #5:

The Tibbitts family. Cool. Refreshing. Much like my drink of choice. And aren't they pretty? Gloria's mom is wonderwoman: Made the dress. Made the flower girl's dress. Made everything so pretty pretty pretty.

Highlight #6:

Me at the reception: Mitch are you happy?

Mitch at the reception: Yes mom. I'm HAPPY. Then he threw in a She's Pretty. In that dreamy I just got married voice.

Highlight #7:

The Tibbitts' wondered if our family required our children to marry a "certain look". Think Arian Nation. I was asked several times: Did you have a required standard that your children had to marry? I'm sorry, but I was looking around at them and who are they to talk?

Arian Tibbitts Nation

If only Matt could have been there. He's our Baheemath Blonde, that crushes all other blondes to smithereenes. There were however no statements alluding to the fact that my children marry themselves. Coloradoians are polite. That will come later, here, on the home court. Can't wait.

Let me practice my laugh: Ha Ha Hee Hee Ho Ho. Whatever.

Highlight #8:

This is hardly a highlight. I am now double booted. I got to wear 2 boots on my feet. I went to the Dr. right before leaving, and the fracture in my foot is healing, however not yet all the way. Xrayed the other foot because of similar pain. Not quite broken but getting ready to break. Getting ready? I look, walk, and might as well talk like Frankenstein now. I wore both the boots on the plane, but left one off Thursday, Friday, and by Saturday my good foot was a swollen painful mess. I had to wear 2 to the reception. I'm committed to 2 boots now. I'm an embarrassment to the Arian Nation.


Highlight #9:

Seeing Eric, Cheri, Kennedy, and Harrison Koford at the reception. They live in Missouri now. They freaked out the Tibbitts' a little when they were at the guest book:

Gloria's Mom:"Do you know who that is?"

Gloria's Dad: "No, do you know who that is?"

Gloria's Mom: "No, do you know who that is?"

Gloria's Mom and Gloria's Dad together: "Someone we don't know is coming to your wedding Gloria."

I look up and it's the Kofords. The darling darling Kofords. I cried. Eric was Tim's 1st assistant in the priest quorum when he was bishop, and when he grew up and got married, we used to go to a BYU football game every year together. My kids mobbed them as soon as they were spotted. So appreciated their coming... Love them!

Highlight #10:

My kids are all married. I'm feeling a lighthearted, happy and gay (in the old timer old fashioned sense of the word...). I know bliss can't last, but I'd be stupid if I didn't enjoy it for a few minutes. YEEEEEEHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAW!

PS. Thank you Diana for the use of your home. You are a true seester.

I Know You've Been Waiting for This

Here they are ladies and gentlemen, fresh as a purple daisy from the Denver Temple, announcing America's newest newlyweds: Mr. and Mrs. Glitch.

How pretty are these two?

And here's what they will look like in 4 years

(and no, this is not an announcement or a plea for grandchildren. It is purely for comic relief. and aren't they cute?):

And here is the groom with his Dear Sweet Grandmother just after she slipped him some Fruit Flavored Trident gum so he could have fruity fresh breath for later on. I'm not so sure that's a good thing, but whatever.And here is a hair shot. The groom has benefited from those biweekly hairclub for men visits and the bride's is tastefully lovely. Notice french braiding above bun. Tres Chic Glo, Tres Chic.

Here are some sweet sweet babes. 5 to be exact.
Glo's backyard garden party. with CAKE! This picture doesn't really show it, but the reception decor was FAB. The prettiest I have ever seen. The flowers were STUNNING. And the food was ever so tasty. Did I mention the cake?
First dance as Glitch. Drunken bridesmaids in background. JUST KIDDING.
Jake acting filly sunny. C'mon. You can get this. silly funny.
I removed daz bootz for the pictures so I could wear for 10 minutes the shoes I so painstakingly picked out. My sons are ridunkulous. But notice how the temple cooperated with the Glitch color scheme of purple purple purple. So accommodating and gracious. I will definitely go back.

Cue trumpets. And Angel voices. Loud and crescendoing ones. With a cymbal at the end
The producers of this blog would like to thank the Dubes for all these photos.
Art Direction by Jakers. Pretty sure these boys got bored during the picture taking phase.

More Wedding news to come.

You can hardly wait.

SneakBlog

I'm whispering right now. It's June 28th and today Mitch is becoming Glitch for time and all eternity in about 3 hours. I'm whispering because I really shouldn't be blogging right now but I had to check in for my flight tomorrow and I am compulsedtioned.

I just wanted to let you all know I have two das boots now. One for the leftie, one for the rightie. I am officially ridiculous to myself, and to the family of His Lady Gloria Tibbitts. However, flying as a handicapper is muy bein gracias. Silver lining folks, silver lining.

We're having a great time.

Leigh and Jenn have the cutest little baby bumps ever. And Leigh looks like Pamela Lee Anderson wink wink winkity wink.

For Paul, My One and Only Paul

This post is dedicated to a friend of Matt's, (my favorite son in law.) Matt's friend is named Paul and Paul is all alone on a Caribbean island. Poor Poor Paul. Just him and his books and a Caribbean Island and no wife because she is off to a family reunion in the states, and no study buddy, because Matt and Leigh are in Utah for Matt to have a ruptured disc taken care of (Matt's Mother in Law is such a peach...announcing to the world his hippa business. Please oh please don't let this come back to bite me..)

Leigh said to give Paul a shout out, because ladies and germs, HE READS MY BLOG. Paul you are my favorite, because you read this blog. You know how people stalk blogs?

Well news flash: Mommacita stalks readers.

Paul, this post is just for you:

Here are some delightful tips for anyone that finds themselves living alone.

Tip#1: Get to know your TV guide. You and your TV guide will now have a relationship. (When you read that last sentence Paul, you say 'relationship' in a singy songy voice. Don't question me Paul. I'm right.)

Tip #2: Eat whenever you feel like it. I'm not saying stuff your face all the time, I'm saying you don't have to have dinner at 6:00 sharp. This might be great only if you are the one that has made sure dinner was on the table at 6:00 every night for 26 years. If that is the case Paul, then you will feel quite liberated.

Tip#3: Eat in front of the TV. (see tip#1) You will love love love eating in front of the TV. It is the best because you can't hear yourself chew or swallow. And that makes for better gastronomic success in the long run. wink wink

Tip #4: Go to bed when you want. This is fun, and you have to take the fun parts of living alone and RUN with them.

Tip #5: You can go a day without making your bed and no one will know. Or care. I suggest, however, that you don't become a total slob. You will have to sleep in your bed at night, and you know that you love a comfy bed.

Tip #6: Watch an episode of the Gilmore Girls each night before you fall asleep. After your prayers of course. This will help you to not notice your aloneness. Even though this is a girlie show, and most men think they talk too fast on that show, you need to give it a chance Paul. You will glean a lot of good lines that you can use in witty conversation in your dreams and the next day at med school. You will dazzle. Again. Trust.

Tip #7: If you must read in bed, all books, magazines, pens, pencils, scripture marking pencils, reading glasses and the like can be kept on the side of the bed that no one sleeps in. This is highly convenient. I thought I was becoming a weirdo by doing this, but then I saw the movie "Dan in Real Life" and I noticed right away that the character played by the guy that plays Michael on the "Office" did it too. This is evidence of universal behavior and must be embraced. Those of you out there not living alone, if you are feeling yourself start to judge, why don't you try to celebrate diversity once in awhile???? No. I am not sensitive at all.

Tip #8: Buy lots of underwear, and then you only do laundry hardly ever. OK. I admit it. I don't do this. I just threw this in because I know you are a guy and you'd probably like it.

Tip #9: Maybe throw in a can of cashews by the books, magazines, etc. on the bed. You never know when you might need a little protein.

Tip #10: If you start to feel lonely, then say to yourself 3 times, "You are my destiny". This will make you laugh at yourself and you will think you are so funny that you love to be around yourself. Then you say to yourself, "Aren't you the funny girl/guy that I get to live with" and then you say "Yes, yes why yes I am" and then you look in the mirror and think "That person is ridiculous I've got to get out of here." and then you go get the TV guide. OK. This tip isn't the best. But I can see it working. Just try it and let me know how it goes.

Any mirror will do Paul

Good Luck Paul. You can do it. I just know you can. And thanks for your undying support.

PG-13. This is PG-13. I'm Sorry, But it Is.

I really have no right to complain. I have so much that is great in my life. But I am compulstioned. Pretty sure that's not a word, but whatever. Every week I go into denial about it. Every week I dread it as it comes closer and closer. Saturday night I get the jitters about it. Sunday morning I play games in my head with it.

I have 8:30 church. You know that's bad. I hate it. Not church. The 8:30 part.

I don't have any little kids to bathe or dress or feed. I don't have any teenagers that I have to squirt with a squirt bottle to get them out of bed for church. (One of the girls in my class told me today that her dad had squirted her with a squirt gun this very morning because she was ignoring him about getting up. She thought he was outrageous, and I was ever so sympathetic. There was almost hugging involved.)

I don't have morning sickness. I'm not up in the night with little ones. I don't have distractions. There is no excuse. But I still hate it. And I'm not the only one. When I have houseguests, and they ask what time church is, and I tell them, the light just drains right out of their eyes and they always groan a little groan of self pity. So stop being judgey.

I'm not a morning person. Sometimes when I get to church I try and joke with people and say I need coffee in the morning, which I think is full of hilarity since we don't drink coffee but no one ever laughs. Except me in my own head. It's because it's too early to be all dressed up and laugh simultaneously.

Part of the reason that I don't like early church is the long afternoon it affords. I have solved that problem by coming home and putting on a fresh nightgown and gently laying my head on my temperpedic pillow with the satin pillowcase made just for me. Earlier, when I am teaching the girls their church lesson, sometimes my mind wanders a wee bit and thinks, hmmmmm, in 25 minutes I will be on the temperpedic pillow. Then I smile, and they think I'm smiling at them because I love them so much. They smile back. but I imagine they are thinking of their pillows too because my lessons aren't all that special. Until they are over and it is pillow time.

Today, I came home from church and I got myself all situated on my especially for me pillow, and I start hearing fingernails and toenails in the ceiling over the french doors of my bedroom. That would be a scurrying around and scritchity scratchity noise. As you can imagine, my muscles became tense. Real tense. I get out of bed and hobble over to the doors because I have no boot on my broken broken foot, (work with me here, the story is better if you feel sorry for me...I don't know what I will blog about when the boot comes off...) and I open the door and step one foot outside on the deck and look up. There is a screened vent for the roof above those doors. Dust and debris were flying out of that screen like no body's business. It was as if there was a fan in there blowing junk out onto my head.

I shut the door right before or right after my heart attack. I can't recall which. But I think Mr. Fluffy Tail is up to no good in my ceiling. And I don't think he is alone. This pretty much substantiates my previous theory about him kissing femmininas. And I'm pretty sure that you can do the math and imaging what else. My attic has been defiled.

I am so done with wildlife.

Goodbye UlaRae

I have a friend and neighbor of 28 years, whose mother died yesterday morning. I hope she does't mind if I mention her mother on this public forum. As you can see, her mom was a pretty lady, who passed her good genes down to her daughters, her granddaughters and her greatgranddaughters. She had 7 children, 32 grandchildren and 26 greatgrandchildren. For a woman in these modern times, it sometimes is overlooked what a grand contribution to society being a mother is. I look at her family, and I think to myself: here is a woman who made the world a better place.

As for me, the thing I will remember about UlaRae is that she provided me with chocolate in our lean years. Back in the 80's, She had connections all over the place, and at church she would hand out what she called a "hot sheet". The 'hot sheet' had all these deals for food in bulk that we could purchase through her, (this was before the Costco days). Oh, there were always things like a big ol' discounted bag of flour or sugar on there, but I really only looked at the 'hot sheet' because there was always some kind of chocolate on it. One month it was chocolate stars, one month it was M&M's, one month milk chocolate chips, and one month dark chocolate chips. Without exception, at Christmas there was dipping chocolate on the 'hot sheet'. Always chocolate in every mother's pantry, because of UlaRae. She did this task as a service. She never took a dime of profit for all the organizing, purchasing and delivering she did.

Today I found myself ironing her burial clothes as a favor to my friend, and as I was performing this task, I started thinking of UlaRae. I realized that UlaRae's mothering skills produced a lifelong friend for me, a life long friend who was also an excellent and wise mother for my children's playmates. The value of that in the life of my family is immeasurable. So Ula Rae, Thanks for making MY world a better place, and really and truly, thanks for all the chocolate. I ate it when life got hairy, and then things were better.

Is Less Really More?

I have a squirrel that runs back and forth on the fence of my back yard all day long. I told my grandaughter Gracie about him. I said, "What shall I name him?" She said, "How about Mr. Fluffy Tail?" Mr. Fluffy Tail it is.

This is my attempt at a shorter blog post.

Question: Would you rather read a post that blathers ON and ON and ON about something ridiculous, or would you rather read something equally ridiculous that doesn't take up your whole afternoon and just get it over with? Rest Assured, they both will waste your time.

Mr. Fluffy Tail is famous, and has adventures, (like kissing the femmininas) but you will never know, because of the short post.

Mommacita's Favorite Things Summer Issue

If Oprah gets away with this, so can I. And everyone in the audience gets free stuff. Whatever my favorite thing is, you, the audience will get it for free!

( Mommacita, you are dang impressive)

Favorite Summer Thing #1:

Ice

I know I know. You're thinking: Whoo Hoo Wee Hee big stinking deal. Ice. She likes ice. And because she promised me free presents of her favorite things, now I'm getting free ice. Everyone knows about ice. She's dumb. (just so we're on the same page here, nobody is getting anything free. That was fake) So anyway, I've just discovered ice. Really, truly, I've just discovered ice. I like ice. I like STORE bought ice in my beverages now. It's delish. And no one can take that away from me no matter how boring it is. Moving right along:

Favorite Summer thing #2:

This brush

This little number is Mac Brush #179, and it is big and fluffy and I am using it to put on this:

Summer Favorite Thing #3:

Don't see anything? That's because the picture I downloaded of Mac Leg Sheen is full of errors. and it won't do it's thing. But if you have pasty white legs just like mine, and have tried multiple self tanners (in an effort to remove the blinding glare in effort to show charity to your fellow man) and they streak or are THE WRONG COLOR even though you have exfoliated TWICE then this is for you. It even looks good on toes and feet (a problem area wouldn't you agree?). The brush enables a smooth and even color. (And applying it is like painting a picture for you art lovers out there) It washes off with soap and water, but will not stain your clothes. And best part? Instant gratification. As soon as you put it on, bingo. You are tan. It is loverly. I brush it on right above my boot, and so when I take off my boot, I have a boot farmer's tan.

Kidding. That's twice I've suckered you in this blog.

Summer Favorite Thing #4

Green Leaf Lettuce by these folks This bag o'lettuce is the best bag o'lettuce I have ever tried. I buy it at Costco, and it comes all washed and it tastes like lettuce, and the leaves are all separated and it's just the nicest bag 'o' lettuce a widow lady could ever want. I will warn: It is a BIG bag'o'lettuce. It takes up major space in the frig. BUT, You don't have to wash it in bleach water. That last comment was a jibjab at YOU Leigh who NEVER blogs. Oh you read everybody else's, but do you return the favor?

Summer Favorite Thing #5

Leigh's Belly. I saw it on SKYPE today. It's the cutes and it has a baby in it.

My blogs are too long. Don't lie, I've looked at the other blogs, and mine go on for ever and ever and it embarrasses me. I was also going to highlight grape tomatoes, because I'm really into those at the moment, and dark chocolate covered jojos (like oreos only better) from Trader Joes but I don't have the energy and I'm hungry now and my blogs always go too long. So all you summer lovers out there, all 4 of my readers, you go treat yourself to some of Mommacita's Summer Favorites. And think of me. Especially every time you have ice. Obviously, I'll take any attention I can get.

Mommacita and the Awful Terrible No Good Bad Day

Get this.

Today I stop at a Shell Station to purchase Shell Station stuff.

I'm inside the little shop that has the twinkies and honey roasted nuts. That's not what I bought. I'm paying. There are two creepy employees, just out of the penitentiary. You know the type, the kind with too many tats, shifty eyes, and sporatic facial hair.

Creepy Employee: Mahame?

Me:

Creepy Employee: Maaaahaaame?

Me: (Am I Mahame?) Yes?

Creepy Employee: You have a bug goin' down your shirt there. (eyes look at my shirt and what's in it and going down it (not that there's anything that great going on in my shirt (frankly, I have seen better days) but truth be told I felt somewhat conspicuous so maybe I imagined the part I just told you. Not that I wanted that to be happening, because believe me I did NOT. ))

Me: (look down. A sort of beetley type bug is headed down my cleavage along my sunglasses that are stuck there. Does Creepy Employee have this view? THAT was my first thought.)
Ack! Ack! Ewe! Ick! Ack! Ahh! Eeee! OOO! ACK! EWE! OUI! YIKES! COUGH! SPUTTER! SPIT!(jump jump dance hop wiggle shuffle jump stomp stomp) (I have just moved every possible body part in front of two ex cons.)

Creepy Employee: he he he he

I pay, I give him the wrong amount, he corrects me, I give him the right amount, I forget to get my change, I have to go back and get my change after I'm half way out the door, (I am DISTRACTED) Creepy Employee is still he-he-he-ing me. Yep. I'm hilarious Creepy Employee. I drive 30 minutes to my Mother in Law's House.

I run to the restroom to rest. As I am sitting there resting, pulling off a few squares of Charmin, I look at the floor and I see the same bug that went down my cleavage, frantically scuttling across the floor as fast as it can. That was one stressed bug that had been trapped in my top for the better part of an hour. And because of being confined to one particular spot, my bug smashing bootie foot (try as it might) could not stretch quite far enough to reach it. I could have fallen. Please do not visualize.

Today, I was thrice creeped out. Maybe even more

This post is true, and the saddest truest part is that no bugs were hurt in the making of this post.