Thursday, December 31, 2009
Monday, December 28, 2009
I failed. I committed to thirty days of gratitude and did 11ish. That's less than fifty percent. That's terrible. In my defense, we have had a broken collar bone, Sucrose Guy traveling extensively, my mom move in with us, my mom move out into her own house, the flu, and Christmas. But, just to make sure I complete the task at hand, least I be a quitter...and to assure you have have many things to be grateful for, I give you the other 19ish things that deserve a little thanks in my life.
12. My bed. Oh how I love this piece of furniture. It comforts me at the end of a long day and reminds me there is always tomorrow.
13. My dogs. They never mouth off and really isn't that reason enough?
14. Christmas vacation. While two weeks off school is a tad bit excessive, I love spending time with the kids and not having a schedule. I love doing things at our own pace rather than living by the dictates of the calendar.
15. A roof over my head. While the house we are currently in isn't my favorite. It is a roof over my head and shelter from the uber harsh Arizona winter.
16. Service. There is no better way to be reminded of what you are blessed with than to serve another. No matter how bad I think my problems are, I have come to understand with every act of service, I am grateful I have been given the burdens I have and not the trials and tribulations given to others I have known and served.
17. Fuzzy socks. To slip on a pair of fuzzy socks on a gloomy day kinda makes the day seem ok.
18. Tutoring. I love to see the wheels turn in the minds of young people and to see the kindling of a fire when a child begins to understand a concept and a whole new world opens up to them.
19. The writers group I go to. They humor me by laughing at my jokes and they think I am smart. It's a little boost to the ego every time I go. Everyone should have a place to go where they can feel that.
20. The peppermint dark chocolate ice cream at Cold Stone only available during the holidays. This mouth melting ice cream in combination with crushed oreos is the best dessert ever. The fact it is only available one month a year makes it that much better.
21. Date night. They seem to be less frequent than I would like, but I love when we get to spend time together and remind ourselves of why we dated and got married in the first place. It is on these occasions I am reminded that I not only love him, but I really like him.
22. My car. Although we are currently a one car family, and have been for a year now, AND I just had to spend an arm and a leg on it in "scheduled maintenance," I am so grateful to have four wheels to get me around. I am not going to sugar coat it, I hate exercise and I am glad I don't have to ride a bike everywhere I go.
23. Teachers. My kids have great ones and I can never underestimate the importance of great teachers.
24. Technology. It is pretty much a given that if I was required to hand write letters to keep in touch with friends and family, I would be in trouble. I am grateful for modern technology in all its glory that allows me to keep in touch and watch families grow up.
25. Texting. Technically I know it's technology. But it is in a class all on its own. I love that there is no longer a need for a 45 minute friendly conversation to borrow a cup of sugar. A simple "do u hav sugar i can borrow?" solves the daily dilemmas of life.
26. Laughter. It truly is the best medicine.
27. Family. Everyone needs a tribe to which they feel like they belong.
28. Chicken and waffles. Yes, my birthday present this year was a trip to Lulu's Chicken and Waffles and it did not disappoint. All the servers wore t-shirts that said "Ghetto Hen." I have decided I need one of those.
29. Super Target. While this store is sooooo dangerous for me, I love that I can get my kids clothes, computer supplies, birthday presents, and my groceries in the same place. Those people at Target are geniuses!
30. Joy. I will always be grateful that I have it, but more importantly, I am grateful I know how to recognize it in all its forms.
Saturday, December 26, 2009
In a year where it would be easy to forget what is really important, Hollywood, Curly, and the Wee one have certainly anchored me in rememberance. Joy is found in the little things, and in the time spent together. This is what I will always be most grateful for.
Friday, December 18, 2009
I really am trying to find the Christmas cheer and be grateful for all I have been blessed with. But the offspring are making it difficult. I don't know how you do it managing all those elves! Why aren't you crying every day asking them if they hate you? Is Mrs. Clause the enforcer in your home so that you can maintain your holiday cheer through the season? I guess if I could eat cookies and hot cocoa all day and find social acceptance in being a "jolly soul" I wouldn't mind the 20 pounds I put on drowning my cares in sugar.
This morning Hollywood stepped in the sleigh in front of the tree and is now complaining his foot hurts. He said it was dark and he couldn't see it. I say he probably thought it was funny to sit in the sleigh and pretend Rudolph was guiding him. I told him limping or not, he was going to school.
Shortly after pedaling pain relievers to both of the older ones and racing to get them in the gate before the morning bell rang, the wee one came running in with her nose scrunched and trying to blow snot rockets. There was an open bag of fruit snacks in her hand and before she even said it, I knew what she had done. I spent the next fifteen minutes with a pair of tweezers dislodging the half chewed fruit snack from her right nostril. Upon successful extraction, she joyfully exclaimed, "yea Momma you did it. Good job!" I reminded her that fruit snacks do not go anywhere but our mouths to which she replied "got it."
Curly's really been a trooper with her broken collar bone (the Motrin is largely facilitating this). But yesterday, she tripped over a cord and fell on her way out the door to school. Then, at lunch, a kid at school plowed into her shoulder which brought on immediate tears and a trip to the nurse. She told her teacher she was fine and stuck out the rest of the day. I am sure it had something to do with the fact they were building gingerbread houses and each got to take home a giant bag of candy and treats.
So this year Santa, will you bring me a vacation? It could come in the form of a hotel for one just to sleep uninterrupted for the night, or a trip to Hawaii, whichever is better for the budget. At this point, I would even take a sound proof room with padded walls and a door that locked from the inside. If it is convenient, just pick me up in the sleigh when you drop by on Christmas eve. Free airfare is always a bonus.
Gotta run, the wee one has been in the bathroom an awefully long time and she's quiet. That's never a good sign.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Sunday, December 6, 2009
I have never really considered a myself a great friend. I am not entirely thoughtful, I never write thank you's (even though I always think I will), I don't call often, and I discovered last night when I awoke at three in the morning from a terrible nightmare, that I will leave you to fend for yourself if we are in a room together with a psychopath. I am so bad that while I was searching through my digital photos for a picture with friends, I didn't have a single one so I had to google images of friends for the blog picture.
Nevertheless, there are those who will still call me friend. So to all of you, I say thank you. I have learned something from every one of you. There are some of you who will tell me my butt looks terrible in plaid (you get extra thanks!). There are some who will listen to me whine about mundane things. There are some who will let me cry on your shoulder. There are some who let me entertain you so that I can feel like I am good at something. What would I do without all of you? Probably shrivel right up and melt like the wicked witch of the west.
Today, and always, I am grateful for you. Next year, I might even try to be a better friend. Well, at least maybe I'll work on hugging without cringing.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
For several months now there has been quite a heated debate over a new temple to be built in the city of Phoenix. There are a couple dozen people who have come together in vehement opposition of it being built. Throughout this time frame, several planning committee meetings have been well attended and emotions have run high on both sides. According to Arizona law, the church has the right to built a temple here, to light it however they want, and to have a steeple height of over 70 feet since steeple height is unregulated in the state. The issue is a grating of a 10 foot variance to accommodate the height of the actual building. In every preliminary meeting, the committees have always voted in favor of the variance approval. Last night was the City Council meeting in which the Mayor and Council would cast the deciding votes regarding the issue. The meeting was held in the Opheum Theater downtown to accommodate all of the people in attendance. The theater was filled to near capacity, yet only 98 people present were in opposition. Vehement opposition.
For the past several weeks, members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints have been encouraged to attend this City Council meeting to show their support of the temple. When I heard it was on a Wednesday night, I nearly dismissed the idea of going entirely. Logan has football games, I have tutoring, and another commitment was scheduled for this night as well. But as the days on the calendar flew by, I began to think, "what if I don't go and the variance isn't grated. What if I could have taken a stand and didn't."
Admittedly, it is a little known fact that I do not in any way shape or form enjoy confrontation regarding issues of a religious nature. Most people who know me are surprised to discover I am a Mormon. I have come to realize this probably because while I have an infinite amount of faith in the gospel, I do not often take a stand. Thus, my palms began to sweat profusely when I slapped on the neon pink name tag which read "I Support the Temple" in big black lettering just before entering the theater.
I knew in that moment I had boldly professed where I stood, and they I may be beaten in a dark parking structure for it. I knew, that if asked, I needed to show others why I know temples are important, and why it is important for Phoenix to have a temple. It's importance is not found in the sales tax or other revenue that will be brought into the city as a result of people coming to the temple. It is not in the increase of property values which often accompanies temples being built. It is not in the peace I find in walking the gardens of the temple grounds.
The importance of this temple being built rests in the family. Within the walls of the temple, families are sealed together forever by the priesthood authority of God. This means that the family unit is sealed together for time and all eternity. Relationship persevere beyond the grave and our mortal existence. Because of the temple, I know that what I have worked so hard here on earth to create within my family will be carried on into eternity. I believe that is worth taking a stand for.
Today I am grateful for temples. I am even more grateful Phoenix will soon have one.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Today is a big day. A day filled with more gratitude than even I have words for. Since 1971 Momma Bear has worked with the Michigan Department of State. She started part time as a clerk issuing driver's licenses and car title transfers. She retires today as the head of the Motorcycle Safety Division for the entire state.
There has been so much I have learned watching her throughout her career. She has taught me persistence, and diligence. She has taught me courage in pursuit of a better life. She has taught me to be fearless in the face of opposition. She has taught me independence and strength. As an adult, I have come to understand the sacrifices she has made for us as her children.
Today several chapters end and a new one begins. There are still many pages left to write in her book. There is still so much she has to give. There are still many lessons I have left to learn. The first begins on Saturday when she calls the southwest her new home.
Friday, November 27, 2009
Yes, I know I missed yesterday, but let's be honest, who doesn't focus on what they are thankful for on Thanksgiving. We spent the day with the scarecrow and his wife and her parents. We sat around the table eating a delicious meal, followed by desserts, and then a few card games. We chatted about this and that, and there was a heated discussion about whether Beef Stew or Spinach was more plain. I voted beef stew, but those in opposition argued at least beef stew can be seasoned, spinach is just spinach. I argued in favor of the spinach because it is colorful, flavorful, and quite healthy. I even used the word "saucy." Scarecrow suggested I dress up as a leaf of spinach for Halloween next year and see how many people call it "saucy." He's rather snarky that one.
I ended the evening with a picture to send to Momma Bear, and the word courage came to mind. As I focused the frame and did a little jig in a failed attempt to get the wee one to smile, I realized every person in the picture lived their life with courage.
Scarecrow exemplifies courage every day by not being defined by a life altering medical condition. One which would leave me rocking in the fetal position in the corner of a dark room. Cosette demonstrates courage by following her heart and living within a set of circumstances that are not part of the dream she built for herself. Hollywood showed much courage by maintaining his standards despite being bullied at school for them. Curly showed courage in attempting to read regardless of the stumbling books she faced and now reaps the fruits of her labors. The wee one probably demonstrates the most courage of all. She has the courage to do naughty things every day in spite of the fact she knows she will be totally busted for them. Her precocious nature is undeterred in sprinkling pepper on the play food, smashing play- dough against the walls of the closet, and lathering the dog in sun tan lotion, because at the end of the day, the thrill of the experiment is more meaningful to her than the time out she receives. Lets just hope she follows in the footsteps of those before her and uses her powers for good not evil.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
It's been a crazy day around here. Between the baking of pies and rolls for the big turkey day tomorrow, cleaning, work, and school, the last thing on my mind was dinner. So after picking some more of those delicious tangerines and grapefruits, we headed off to dinner. It's been awhile since we have had Chinese, and one of my favorite places is over by Grammy's new digs, so we decided to have dinner there.
This particular establishment has these savory cream cheese wantons as appetizers. I mean who can't love a deep fried crispy dough stuffed with cream cheese, green onion, and watercress? While debating whether to purchase 4 or 6 of these bite size pieces of heaven, I was informed that Wednesday is Wanton Wednesday and they are only a quarter each. At that price it was easily determined that 10 would be the perfect amount.
After a feeble attempt to enjoy a delicious dinner with a maniac two year old, a sassy six year old, a grumpy nine year old, and a tired husband, the fortune cookies were quickly distributed. We all took turns reading ours, and sucrose guy read his last. His said "You will have a good position and a comfortable salary." He thinks it was fate he received that particular fortune in that particular cookie, when really he could have received any other cookie with one of our forgettable fortunes just as easy.
Either way, with $.25 wantons and a fortune like that, how can I not be grateful for today?
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Tuesdays just might be my favorite day of the week. On Tuesday, it's all about the music. For a few hours every week, I don't have to be a mom, a wife, a teacher; or think about the bills, the laundry, or what to make for dinner. I just sing. I have come to understand that part of who I am craves the opportunity to create. Everyone needs that. To be creating something, or feel validation in something they are doing. Music and writing do this for me.They make me feel connected to something bigger than myself and my day to day struggles.
Today was an extra special Tuesday since Pilgrims and Indians sang too. There was one adorable little Pilgrim standing proudly on the end of the second row with the rest of the "blue group." She was accompanied by rain stick and maraca shakers, and four little drummers. But the music teacher looked like she took a few hits from the peyote pipe before the performance. I might too if I was orchestrating 80 Pilgrims, Indians, and turkeys. Or maybe she was just in her creative zone...
Monday, November 23, 2009
There are certainly more than ten things I could list for the many reasons I am grateful for this guy, in fact, if I thought about it long enough, I could probably do 30 days of gratitude all on the subject of him. Sure he drives me a little bonkers on occasion, but mostly, he does things for me I would never do for him.
When we were married only about 3 years, both Logan and I had the flu. Not just any flu, but the mother of all flu's. The kind where you can't even lift your head from the pillow without projecting all kinds of nasty from your mouth flu. It was so bad we even gave it to the dog, so he was left to clean up after all three of us. On his birthday no less. Three years later, when that flu came back around for him and he spewed all kinds of nasty all over the bathroom door in his feeble attempt to make it to the toilet, I was not so generous to return the favor of cleaning up after him. There are a lot of things I can do, but vomit, even from kids, is something I am just not capable of dealing with. That there is just a small sampling of the many things he sacrifices for me.
Today, we are just grateful he is coming home. We have missed him, so now, we are off to the airport to fetch him and give him a grand welcome home!
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Did I really commit to 30 days of gratitude? Seems a little excessive. I am already struggling at day 3. Hmmm.
Today was a rather sad day for me. I was released from being the Primary Chorister at church. To some, teaching 100 kids songs every week might sound as apealing as repeatedly stabbing yourself in the eye with a knitting needle. But for me, these little people are a bright spot in my week. I love their crazy comments, I love their smiles and their laughter, I love that whenever I see any of them at school, or in a store, or at the park, they always come up to say hello. The younger ones will even run up with their arms wide open for a hug.
Being with the adults really isn't as fun. They don't enjoy human spinner. They don't jump up on their chairs when singing "Jesus Wants Me For A Sunbeam." They don't even sing "Jesus Wants Me For A Sunbeam." This whole hanging out with people my own age is definitely going to take some getting used to.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
I love autumn. I love everything about it. The crisp air that almost burns when entering the lungs, the hues of red, yellow, and orange in the turning leaves, the smell of apples being pressed at an orchard, and the taste of a warm cinnamon sugar doughnut at the mill.
There are not many of these things to be found in central Arizona, but there is one thing I can always count on. The pumpkin patch. For me, going to the pumpkin patch in October for Halloween is as big of a deal as putting up a tree in December for Christmas. This year sucrose guy thought perhaps we needed to bypass the trip with the grim financial forecast we are experiencing. I told him I would take to the pole for a few nights if I had to so we could go. The compromise was taking a hit from the grocery budget.
Growing up a city girl, I have always found a certain novelty in visiting farms. The baby pigs in a pen to pet, the little yellow chicks running around pecking the ground, the shimmering black cow mooing, and the goats eating from my palm all bring me delusions of having my own animal menagerie one day.
Someday, I will have the white salt box house with black shutters on 6 acres of sloping land with one brown spotted cow, 4 baby chicks pecking the corn meal scattered about, and a pink pot belly pig lying on the front porch next to the dogs. Noticeably absent will be the nasty, pellet pooping, stinky goats that run up and ram you in the bum when you are not feeding them enough.
Until then, I will always be thankful for the pumpkin patch.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Then I saw this video and felt like a loser. I know how much I have to be grateful for. I really should start expressing it more and show more joy, less sarcasm. To this end I am attempting an experiment. I am going to express my gratitude for the little things every day. Things like the play dough smashed against the back inside wall of the craft closet compliments of the wee one while I was vacuuming yesterday. I am going to chronicle gratitude for 30 days. Perhaps it will help me show more compassion to those I serve (Umm, doubtful). Perhaps my heart will grow from it's current condition of "two sizes too small." Or, perhaps, it will just help me develop the habit of writing every day. But let me start with today.
Today, I am grateful for the free tangerines we are picking from a family friend's tree. They are truly delicious. The juice runs down your arm before you are even finished peeling them. They are also sweet enough to stave off even the wickedest craving for gummy bears. I hope the same can be said when the chocolate pies at Thanksgiving appear.
So tell me, what is it you are thankful for?
Thursday, November 12, 2009
But because there are now two older siblings to try and outwit, she is getting pretty crafty. Last week when we went to Costco, I promised her a churro. Upon receiving said churro despite questionable behavior in the store including a rousing game of "Where's Waldo," she immediately licked one entire side so that I couldn't share it with her. Did I mention she's two? Two.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Monday, November 2, 2009
My bedtime is inching up a half hour every day.
At this rate, I will be going to bed at the same time as the kids by Thursday.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Not so long ago sucrose guy (we are far to poor to call him sugar daddy, but he's still sweet) and I were in the car having a discussion about the experiences we have had in the past year and why different experiences are not readily coming to us. He suggested that I need to write down the experiences we were having so that we could reflect on them, and learn what we needed to learn so that we could move on.
I immediately dismissed the idea, since nearly every day he tells me that I need to write more, sell a book, blah, blah, blah. This in combination with the fact that I not really into journaling, and the fact that I am not into overly personal blogs, was enough to swiftly give him my usual brush off. He however, is quite used to my tactics and made me give him a date by which I would promise to write the experiences down. I grumbled, but being more fed up with life circumstances than I am blogging, I have met the day of my deadline and am sitting at the computer writing them down. Kind of...
Growing up my aunt used to have a large crystal that hung over the kitchen sink in front of the window. Even on a cloudy day, the prism would reflect light from several different surfaces. I think trials are much in the same, in that they can be viewed from many different angles. The cheery "oh I am so blessed because I have this this and this angle." The dodgy "I'm fine" angle. The optimistic "well I know it could be so much worse" angle. And the forgotten perspective angle of "Holy crap when is this going to be over?" I have mastered many of these angles. However, my favorite is the "complain about everything minor in your life to everyone around you so you don't have to talk about the real stuff" angle. Since we are just being honest, and he is making me write it all down, I will tell you sucrose guy latched onto the "I don't want to talk about it" angle for most of this year.
Before I begin the list of experiences we have had this past year, I must tell you I have heard every pep talk on the planet. We have had our names put on prayer roles, we have had council, and we have had help. Above all, yes I know, it could be worse. We have friends hold newborns only a few hours before they left mortality, we have had friends loose battles with cancer, we have had loved ones struggle with disease and financial ruin. I am grateful what I have maintained and grown through this year. I am grateful we have been provided for and most importantly that we have not been swallowed up in despair, but rather found great joy in the things around us. I am grateful that even after short selling a house and losing $200,000 on a house for a job transfer, Nathan having two kidney surgeries, then losing his job, being out of work for four months, completely dissolving all of our life savings, finding a new job but at a 65% pay cut and no health care, praying the kids don't get sick because we can't afford to take them to the doctor, a kindergartner who struggled through the first year of school, a son who has struggled immensely to find his place in this new world we moved him into, and me being completely immobile for a month after tearing all of the ligaments in my ankle that we have still found joy in our lives. I am grateful that I still know how to laugh at life and all that it entails.
I am grateful that while I certainly have had moments of disbelief at being able to financially survive another day, I still find joy in having dinner together as a family, swimming together at the pool, acting out Book of Mormon stories in Family Home Evening, and brownie Sunday. Because at the end of the day, I know that happiness is my responsibility, no one can find it for me, and no one can take it away.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Friday, September 25, 2009
The joys of teaching your own children are sometimes never realized. The emotions involved when reading with a first grader is something akin to having water continuously dripped on your forehead for 12 hours. The ka-ah-t cat ih-z is ah-nn on th-eh the rah-uh-gh rug. Then there is the practice of Anger Management when interrogating the 4th grade parolee on whether or not there is any homework tonight, and if not then why is the teacher sending home notes every week about missing assignments. My personal favorite is when asked, I respond that indeed 2+2 is 4, the response fired back by a 4'2" person is "no it's not, my teacher said it's 5." It is at this point, the wheels fall off the bus, and I can only reply through clinched teeth, "go ask your dad."
Monday, September 14, 2009
Saturday, September 12, 2009
We all know my trifecta rule that cannot ever be accomplished in my life. You know, the thin, rich, pretty trifecta. It is a life long examination in humility for me. See, if I actually ever achieved the trifecta, I would be unbearable to be around. I know this about myself. However, it would seem part of the trifecta mentality has seeped itself into my self identity. Until I see photos of myself.
There are few things in life that serve as a greater reality check than photos. So much so, we have not done a family photo since before the wee one was born. Each time the photos are downloaded to the camera, I carefully scrutinize them for any and all signs of myself. For me, it's a little like pulling off a band-aid. Somehow it hurts less if you just hurry up and get it over with. In those rare instances I find someone has captured me on film, I think to myself, "Really? I look like that?"
In my own mind, and in the mirror every morning, I may not be a beauty queen, but I certainly don't have dark circles down to my 47 chins, and my eyes are not closed from the weight of my cheeks pushing the bottom lid out of existence. There is a moment when I first see a photo with me in it, that I do a reference check. Yes, the tree looked like that, the sand was that color brown, Hollywood looks like that, Curly did her own hair that day, the wee one definitely didn't match that day, but it wasn't worth the battle...then horror fills my soul when I realize "holy crap, I am a little further left of my trifecta than I thought!"
My only hope in all this is school photos. In particular, Hollywood's first grade school photo. Every time I see it, it makes me laugh. I find comfort and hope in it. I know he doesn't look like that. I know he is a handsome boy who was cursed with the idnotknowhowtosmile disease.
The disease is contagious and spreading in our home. School pictures where this week. We practiced smiles for two days in front of the mirror. As we practiced, I saw the idontknowhowtosmile germ jump from the corner of Hollywood's pursed lip grin to the center of Curly's bottom lip. The lip instantly closed, covering all teeth, and as the germ crept it's way to the edge of her eye, the lid closed in defense. Apparently, a few germs hitched a ride to the brain via the snot rockets because while engaged in this rediculous smile, Curly proudly proclaimed, "Look mom, isn't my smile beautiful?"
Here's to hoping a vaccination comes out before next year's pictures.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Having been carted around in wheelchairs and electric "mobility" scooters for the past three weeks I have begun to notice a few things:
- First, there are not many folks under the age of 75 being toted around an airport in a wheelchair. So, when you roll through one with three kids in tow, people stare. And judge.
- These judgements I totally understand. The more scooters I drag myself in and out of, the more I realize there are not many thin people that make use of them. I have become hyper sensitive to this fact while attempting to drive myself as close as I can to the Costco sample carts as to not fall over reaching for the latest tasty treat. If only they sampled more brussel sprouts, I wouldn't feel the need to stop.
- Stopping a scooter is far easier to accomplish than effectively navigating turns. Suffice it to say, I now understand why trucks post the "Caution, wide right turns" on the back of their loads. Curly and I learned this when I clipped her foot and trapped her under the cart. I swiftly put the scooter in reverse to keep the crocodile tears to a minimum, but those obnoxious beeps accompanying the reverse mode tend to draw a crowd. A mean, judgey crowd of cranky elderly woman who shout nasty things regarding your inability to parent. Like I don't know I shouldn't run over my kids!
- However, the judgements may have been a result of the "accident" in combination with the fact that those same kids figured out rather quickly that their little legs carry them at twice the speed the scooter carries me. Continuous games of Where's Waldo are not enjoyable inside Costco or WalMart. Please remind the wee one of this next time you see her.
All in all, I have found the scooters and wheelchairs to be enough of a humiliation. So please, you don't feed the bears at the zoo, so don't judge the fat people in the scooters. They may be old and frail. They may be young and weak boned. And chances are, they are not thinking "It is so cool to ride in a scooter around the store." It just beats sitting at home with one leg in the air.