I wood lik to met wyth yoo?

My hubs has such a wierd sense of humor sometimes, it makes me laugh so hard!

A child of mine is struggling in an English class, when typically straight A's are earned every semester and every year ever since kindergarten.

You know how sometimes we get a teacher that is hard to please, no matter what??

My hubs recently sent a purposely misspelled and misgrammatized email to this teacher:

Deer Ms. xxxxxxx- 

I wood like to make a apointment for parant teacher conferance next Thursday. Please have me a time to met with you. I is avaleable all day Thursday. I look foreward to met with xxxx english teacher. 

xxxx's DAD, 

xxxx xxxxxx

I heard about this when I saw my child and hubs laughing so hard in the evening a couple days ago, guffawing enough until the walls were rattling. When I went to see what the commotion was all about, I looked at the sent email from my email database. Haha! You gotta give them points for this!!!

Shortly after, the teacher emailed back. Very simple and to the point. No misspellings or grammatical errors. Not even ONE punctuation mistake. And NO mention of the obvious "poorly written" email on my hub's end. Hope that teacher has a sense of humor!

(Note: all the xx's are for privacy concerns)

Hav nyce day, and dont' fourget to laff and laff yor head of onece in a whyle!

Got #65

Today I recieved a text from my EHS high school son.

It said "Got #65."

I didn't answer it for awhile.

Then I went into town with my husband to get football stuff for my high school son.

Then I got the text again.

"Got #65."

I showed it to my husband: "What is this supposed to mean?"

He thought to himself, then smiled, and said that my son got the same number football jersey that he had while playing football in high school.

Sah-weet!!

Another Year Older?

A certain day is coming soon. It is a day in which I wish my body will age in reverse.

For like the next 6 years, and then stay there.

And for the "celebration" today for this coming certain day in which another dreaded number creeps up, I decided to spend it with my husband. Today is his day off from work, and all my kids are in school.

I just got paid from my job. I put a huge chunk of it into a vacation savings account. Cha-ching for the bank.

eep.

And yesterday my printer died.

eep.

When do I get to spend anything on myself? Especially on my "celebration" with another dreaded number?

So today my dear hubs and I went to Best Buy. I found a printer I wanted for 30 dollars less than I originally thought it would cost. Cha-ching? (that doesn't really count as something for myself) Nope.

Then I happened to meander over to the photo area. I think my hubs knew that my cha-ching was about to disappear. So after the Best Buy took apart the entire display area so I could play with check out the new lens on a camera similar to mine, I ended up with a decision to finally buy my 55-250 Canon lens for my camera. It only took me a year to finally buy it. Cha-ching? Yep! I finally got what I wanted!

Then my hubs took me to Chipotle across the street for lunch. I will forever say it wrong: Chip-po-tay. Good food. Too crowded and noisy for a good visit with my hubs though. Cha-ching? Nope.

Then we headed nearby to the mall. Cha-ching for hubs? I finally got to use my Bath and Body Works gift card a dear friend gave to me. Cha-ching for me!

Then I decided I MIGHT want to check out the Sears clearance rack. Then I saw Payless Shoe Store and ran as fast as I could meandered over because I have been looking for ballet shoes my daughter needed to replace the ones blistering her feet. Size one ballet shoes always seem to be out. And today the PSS at the mall of all places! finally had them. Cha-ching for me! (and my dear daughter!)

Afterwards I come out of PSS and my hubs is missing! I think he might have suffered from mall shock. I texted him like 6 times:

Hey, I am done. 


Where are you? 


Where r u at? 


I am done, I don't want to go to Sears. 


I am done with Payless.

I am waiting and waiting. Like 18 WHOLE minutes!! I am tired. The mall is hot and humid in the hallways.

Cha-ching?

Texting again:

Hello?


Where is the car parked at?


Como estas? Do I need to call a cab to get home?

Then dear hubs finally shows up, looking a little too relaxed.

He didn't die from mall shock!

"Soo...where were you at?"

"At Oriental Chi"

"Chi?"

"Getting a chair massage."

"Really? Where?"

(walked over to Oriental Chi)

"I want a massage too!"

Cha-ching!

"By the way hon, ignore the last text."

Thanks for a great day hubs.

By the way, I will be forever 30!

Well, am I?

I assure you that I in fact, am deaf.


I decided to do a little education and FYI post.


Some of you are too shy or afraid to ask me.


Some of you had no idea.


First of all: I was born deaf. At least I think I was.  I still remember being three and getting my hearing aids for the first time, and the ride home in my Dad's noisy light blue VW Bug scared the cripes out of me.


I didn't have any communication and language in place for a long time. I do remember that somehow I was able to read a persons lips when I was about 4 years old. But it wasn't perfect. It needed time. It took 13 years until I was able to read a person's lips well enough that they didn't know I was deaf. I learned to speak. That was tricky too. I spoke with an obvious deaf accent and wierd tones for years. Took me awhile to hone the speaking skills.


Lip reading is a tricky thing though. Just because I can read your lips when you are standing 12 inches or so away from you doesn't mean I can read your lips in a group full of people. Lip reading in a group of people is like paying attention to the game of hiding a penny under a cup and watching a bunch of cups swish around, then find the penny again. By then, I have completely lost track of what the conversation is all about.


Lip reading: I can't do that with everyone. If you have an accent and move your mouth different because you are from another country, forget it. Have a bushy mustache, ah man, I would hope and pray that my male teachers in school and college didn't have a mustache. If you are missing teeth, or have misshapen teeth, it gets hard too. The more I lipread a person, the easier it gets. That's why I like to keep the same people around me in my environment, such as the same VT person.


At church or some other classroom setting. You know those Charlie Brown cartoons, where the teacher is talking, and all you hear is a mwah mwah mwah? That is what it is like for me in a classoom or group setting. Unless I have an interpreter, its hard for me to follow. It's nice when someone gives me notes, but its not the same when I can't follow the feedback that others are giving around the classroom, or that I can't cry and laugh with the rest of them. I pretty much just put on a pleasant smile and wait for class to be over. I don't really get too much out of a classroom setting without an interpreter.


How much can I hear?


Well that's a long story. My mom said I seemed to hear more when I was real little. First of all, I HAVE to wear a hearing aid to hear any sounds at all. I can hear talking voices. I can hear music. I can hear the airplanes overhead. I SOMETIMES can hear the sirens, but only if I am outside the car if I am driving, or the windows are down. Now fast forward to 2007 when I got a digital hearing aid. Oh boy, that was great. I could hear my kids talking in the next room. I could hear the doorbell. I could finally hear my husbands cellphone ringtone. But it is still a matter of distance. I certainly do not hear a cellphone in the next room or a large room. BUT I do NOT get the words people were saying in the next room. I still need to lipread. Let me CLARIFY that all I am hearing are tones. My hearing aid does not make me a hearing person. You sound robot-like and tinny when I hear you talking. Hearing aids are not like glasses. I can't put them on, and be all like, ta-da, 100 percent hearing again like everyone else.


In a large hall full of talking people, I can hear all the noises at once. But I can't differentiate it. I still use my eyes to separate the noise. If you walk right up and start talking to me behind my back, you are in fact just part of one large noise to me. You still have to get my attention by tapping me on the shoulder.


Is louder noise for me better??


Hmm, that is a big fat no. This is why the COMTEK thingie I would wear on my ears, and this other thingie would hang on my neck that I would wear in the 6th grade was completely useless. It made the teacher's voice louder, but I didn't lipread or understand any better. Speaking louder in my ears: useless. Back off unless you want me to slug you. I would turn up the radio a little bit more, and the TV a little bit more, but not too much.


Why don't speech sounds I hear become intelligible?


Answer: I have nerve deafness. The sound we hear travels along our ears through cilia, tiny hairs inside our ears. Cilia is on the nerves. The nerves travel the sound to the brain, and the brain computes the sounds into speech forms that people can hear and comprehend. The sounds I hear reach my cilia in my ears, and pretty much stop there. So therefore I use my eyes to fill in the rest of the gaps, until it reaches my brain, then I comprehend. (lip reading, ASL, interpreting, subtitles, captions etc)


There are tons of different deafness types.


Every deaf person has their own unique experience on learning to survive in a hearing world. There is no one else like me. I don't belong to any "classified/labeled" group. There is an entire novel on this.


What was it like growing up deaf?


It was tough. I hated school and socializing alot. I did not like leaving my house into the real world.  I learned alot about the real and savage world at a young age. I'm not going to lie, I did suffer some pretty bad abuses in every way imaginable most days. That's all I have to say about that.


How to Get my Attention: 

1. Tap my elbow or shoulder. 
2. Slow down. Enunciate. 
3. Don't overly enunciate to me so slowly like I am some retard. 
4. Don't be nervous. It's difficult to "read nervous talk." I promise I will not bite.
5. Speak directly to me
6. It's okay to write something on a piece of paper. 
7. Text me. Even if it is right in front of me because I am not getting a word or two that is important to the whole conversation.

No-no's on talking to me:

1. Don't start talking to my husband in my behalf, especially when I am standing right there! (can you tell your wife.....)
2. Don't assume I understood the first time. It's okay to say, "you got all that?"
3. Don't assume that when I am standing in a group, talking and laughing, that I GOT everything in the conversation.

Attitude, willpower, determination and survivor.


It's everything to why I can do the things I can do:


People told me I will not read. I taught myself to read at 5.


People told me I will suffer and do poorly in school, and never graduated. Granted I DID get Cs and Ds in elementary, but then I graduated with As and Bs in high school, without the priviledge of ASL and interpreters.


People told me I would never go to college.  I went to four years at college. Two at BYU, and two at UVSC. Most of the grades were pretty good. The only bad grades were because I hated the class and skipped it, like Philosophy. I always got As in my English classes. Yep, I can read, and write, and comprehend what I am reading.


People told me I would never be married and be a mom. I've been happily married for 15 years with 4 kids.


People worried that when I had my babies, it was like "oh, those poor poor babies!" Believe me, I woke up every hour checking on my babies all the time at night because I knew I wouldn't hear them cry. I had to triple my mom dedication. I would feel their chests to make sure they were breathing. And my babies learned fast. For example, they learned to bang the crib against the wall when they were ready to get out instead of screaming their lungs out. (I can feel vibrations, and I am more sensitive to it)


People told me I would have a sad and boring life. Hmm, well. I read, paint, sew, photography, do crafts and scrapbooking, teach classes at church, have friends and a social life, and get involved in my community and church. I'm a happily busy mom, wife, friend, and sister.


You tell me I can't do something: Just wait and I will learn to do it better than most.


Not only I am Mrs. Can,  I am also Mrs. Will.


All right now. Any questions?


The only stupid question is the one you didn't ask.

Potatoes aren't Fruit!!

Last night my son pointed a certain vegetable was that was sitting interspersed with the other fruit on a plate that my children grab freely from for snacking. He asked me what it was.

I told him, "those are gold Yukon potatoes." I didn't think to ask him why he asked me that question. It certainly looked like other kinds of potatoes, except it wasn't the typical brown color.

This morning while getting stuff ready for school, I saw my son take something odd from his lunchbox when he cleared out yesterday's old lunch stuff and threw it away.

I looked in the trash can there was a raw Yukon gold potatoe, with a large bite taken out of it.

Please join me in a lovely symphony of gut busting laughter!!

(I am still giggling a half hour later)

(

P is for Pearl

Today my son found a wood lid stuck behind the dresser.

It has fancy scrolled letter P on it.

I was missing that lid for a really long time. I really wanted that lid back!

This old varnished cracked lid with a "P" on it is my jewelry box lid. I am guessing that my jewelry box is about 30 years old.

My mother gave me this wood jewelry box to me when I was 12 years old. It used to be her Aunt Pearl's. I didn't really know Aunt Pearl. She was my great Grandpa Busby's companion. I remember the cool 70's beads in their kitchen. That's all I remember about Pearl and Grandpa Busby.

But getting that jewelry box was the coolest thing ever. I used to share a small bedroom with 4 other kids. A brother in the crib. A sister in a mattress pulled out from under the crib. A sister on the bottom bunk. And me on the top bunk with my "secret stuff" stashed under the mattress. Lots and lots of "babyish" stuff and Barbies in my room, ugh!

I didn't have any the latest teen stuff at the time. Just a few Kirk Cameron posters on the wall, and my very non-babyish jewelry box with the letter P on my dresser.

Yep, I was real proud of my jewelry box with a letter P. I polished it once a month with my Mom's lemon polish.

I smacked my siblings hands if they dared touched my jewelry box.

A year later I was looking at the letter P thinking that it was too bad that it was not a letter M.

A year later I was really wishing I had a reason to have a letter P! No cool nicknames for me that started with a letter P. And "pumpkin" from my Dad as a little girl does not count.

A year after that I thought to myself, "I really really want my last name to start with a letter P."

A year after that I thought to myself, "I am pretty sure that I will have the last name with a letter P"

A year after that, I went to Lake Powell for the first time. And I LOVED it. I loved that name of the lake so much. Lake Powell sounds so cool. It IS so cool and beautiful.

Almost 3 years later I was standing by a large bonfire introducing myself in sign language as a one of the counselors at a summer camp for deaf kids. "Hello, my name H-E-A-T-H-E-R M-C-N-E-I-L"

Soon afterwards there was a hand towards my right shoulder. I could only see the hand. I thought it was a very nice looking hand. And I saw the name being spelled "R-Y-A-N P-O-W-E-L-L"

Well two weeks later, and the rest is history.

Now I have a good reason to have an old varnished cracked wood lid with a fancy scrolled letter P on it.

And I am still proud of it.

I smack my kids hands if they dare to touch it.

And to this day I still introduce myself as "My name is Heather Powell, Powell as in Lake Powell"

(otherwise they write my last name down as Powers)

PS My husband is quite possibly related to John Powell, founder of Lake Powell.

Thanks son for finding my  jewelry box lid!

And P is now for Powell. (Sorry Aunt Pearl!)

I Smell Like a Man

Yes, you read that right!

I smell like a man, and I love it!

Now I do not mean sweaty, sticky, icky and stinky man... (gaggagagagag)

I am talking about this:

Oh yeah baby!

For the past 18 months I have been gradually using my husbands stuff from the bathroom while ignoring my bottles and vials of stuff from Bath and Body works.

I discovered that I love Old Spice!

My favorite one right now is Swagger. isn't that such a fun and cool name? But I got a problem. The entire family loves it too! I caught my daughter using Swagger deodorant and my teen sons are requesting their own Swagger products so that we don't have to share.

So currently I have two Swagger body washes in each bathroom. My kids are sharing Swagger body spray and deodorant, and they all insist on having their own stash of Swagger products in their room.

My husband has been an Old Spice fan since boyhood and still uses Pure Sport or Fresh.

Pretty soon the entire house will be filled with OS Swagger products.

Now if they will make Swagger body lotion, I will be a happy woman!

If you are ever at loss on what to get me or any of my family members for our birthdays, we will be very happy to get this:

Have a nice Old Spice kind of day!

What is your favorite Old Spice smell? (on yourself or on your man)