American Idol Finale...CRY!!!!!

I would like to write a very lengthy blog about the trip I made with Morgan and Madison down to the Energy Solutions Arena to watch the American Idol finale live, and how we were there when they cut to live shots of the crowds in Salt Lake during the show, and how we were there when David won.... But...he....didn't...win.. (cry!) , and so now I can't even write about it because we are all too sad.

I even heard one radio station issue a flash flood warning for downtown SLC last night caused from the tears shed by all the girls in Utah who were crying when the "other David" won. We were all pretty bummed to say the least. And now I must go console Madison who breaks down crying at odd moments without warning.

David Archuleta!!!!!!!

For those of you who do not watch American Idol, I apologize for this post as it will not make much sense to you. For the rest of you...

It was Friday morning at breakfast when I made the split decision that would instantly and forever promote me from "boring mom who makes us go to school" to "uber cool mom who takes us to see David Archuleta AND skip school in the process!" (at least for one day.) David from American Idol was back in Utah for the weekend and Utah was throwing a party like you wouldn't believe, including everything from morning news appearances, radio appearances, autograph signing at the Gateway, a huge pep rally at Murray High and the National Anthem at the Jazz game in the evening. My girls were swooning over him as he was on the news, like they do every Tuesday and Wednesday night, when it was announced that he would be at the Gateway signing autographs that very day. I made the decision right then that instead of putting them on the bus with the mean grouchy bus driver, I would put them in the car and head to Salt Lake. (Mike took care of the 3 others with him at work to make my "uber cool mom" status possible.)

I don't even know how to describe the scene that was there as we arrived at the Gateway. The line (easily 1/2 mile long, at least) was filled with girls of every age, most of them wearing shirts professing their undying love for David and how they were surely going to be his wife. Cameras and phones were everywhere and it was like a continual wave of screaming.

Instead of waiting in the line, in which he obviously was not even going to make so much as a dent, we walked up to where the front of the line was (we stayed out of the line, for those of you who think we were obnoxious line jumpers) and just watched. We secured our position right up next to the ropes (it got a bit ugly at times when we had to ask (firmly tell) people who crowded in front of us to head to the back of the crowd). And then it happened.... Yes, Elvis entered the building. See that nice black stretch Hummer there below? Guess who is inside?It was quite simple to tell which direction he was going after he got out of the car as the screams got louder in that general vicinity. Here he comes walking toward us!!!!!! Oh my heck!!! Can you see him?!?! ..... Neither could we, thanks to the media and security surrounding him. (This is a fun picture to play "Where's David?" Can you find him?)We ended up about 20 feet or so from where he was, which sounds pretty good, but the girls still couldn't see much since most of the girls there were older and taller than they were holding their phones and cameras high into the air. So I did what any good uber-cool mom would do: I bent down and had Madison jump onto my back so that she could see the love of her life. I will always remember the scream that came out of her mouth when she saw him for the first time. Isn't he just darling?
I did the same for Morgan, and hiked her up on my back so she could see him as well. That is how I spent the next 30 minutes, putting my girls on my back one at a time so they could scream and take pictures.
At this point either my legs were going to collapse with exhaustion, or I was going to pass out, or both, so we backed away from the crowd and went and stood on a picnic table just a short ways back where they could see everything plain as day.

He only stayed for about 45 minutes and then was promptly escorted back down the stairs to his lovely black limo. Did I mention that he was heavily surrounded?
Somehow we were lucky enough to be right up next to the limo when he got in. My girls actually ran out and touched the back of it, and then screamed with excitement.
And here we have my favorite picture of the kid. He popped his head out of the sunroof and waved at everyone. I cannot describe to you the screams that filled the air at that point. It was like nothing I have ever heard before. I apologize for the blurry pics, but for those of you who have never tried to take photos while being bumped, poked, and prodded by love-sick teen age girls while balancing a grown tween on your back, it is not as easy as it looks.
Don't they look so happy? =D This is my attempt at getting their picture taken with David. He's under the white pop-up tent there behind them. If you use your imagination, I'm sure you will see him. He's there. Really he is.
So was it worth it? Absolutely. I don't regret it for a second. I realized that this was a "once in a life time" opportunity for my girls and something they would remember for the rest of their lives. And as their mother, I will never forget them screaming and waving and laughing with utter bliss through it all.

The best part of the whole experience was as we were watching the news that evening, they were running a story on how many teens "sluffed school" that day to go see David. (record breaking absences) They showed a video clip of a bunch of love-sick, crazy, hormone-infested, school-sluffing girls following behind David's limo as he left the Gateway. And guess who was in the middle of that crowd? Yep. All three of us.

"Gather ye rosebuds while ye may.
Old Time is still a-flying.
And that same flower that smiles today,
Tomorrow may be dying."
~Robert Herrick
"To the Virgins, to Make The Most of Time"

(That title makes me giggle a bit. I found it appropriate for this post.)

Territorial Markings

Did you know that males from different animal species do something called "territorial marking" in which they "stake claim" to a particular space, area, or object? Most commonly this is accomplished by depositing strong scented chemicals such as urine at prominent locations within the territory. (The pee around the toilet doesn't count.) I have one of these creatures living in my home. Thank heaven and earth and all the saints that he does not use the afore mentioned chemical to accomplish this, but rather a crayon, pencil, or marker. Please scroll down for some examples.

Here we have Caleb letting everyone know that he likes the back of the bathroom door and that he would like to add it to his list of possessions.

And here we have Caleb staking his claim on Emma's fairy Barbie doll, much to the dismay and horror of Emma.
Apparently he think my pick is his too. Or at least it is now, according to him. It's a good thing he wrote "Caleb A." so I didn't get him confused with the other "Caleb" who is writing his name all over my home.
Ah.... and here we have Caleb letting us all know that the ceiling in Morgan's room belongs to him. I have no idea why he wants Morgan's ceiling, but apparently he does. I know there are some of you wondering, "How did Caleb get up there to write his name?" My answer: I have no idea.
Luckily I have not yet seen any markings on my socks, probably because black crayon or pen just doesn't do the job on the fuzzy fabric, but he may as well mark these too. These are his favorite socks. Yes, they are MY fuzzy, purple, softy, cozy socks that I bought for myself over the winter months to keep my feet warm in the evenings. Caleb got one sight of them, put them on his feet, pulled them up to his thighs, and I haven't been able to wear them since. He grabs them out of my drawer the second I wash them, and they are on him again. He even sleeps with them. And as I sit here typing this, guess what he is wearing? You guessed it. Actually he is only wearing ONE, and he has put both his feet into it, because he can't find the other one.
Aside from all the markings all my house, I really do love this little kid. He is so kind and sweet and adores making his sisters scream. I love to hear him sing, see him play, and love those burping contests we have after sharing some soda pop. (He kills me at it.)
p.s. He's playing "Fashion Barbie Show" here with little Emma; designing outfits, choosing fabrics, selecting color schemes and the works. I know he would rather be playing Tony Hawk or Pirates of the Caribbean, but he's just as content to play this with Emma. And I love him for it.

"Sometimes being a brother is better than being a super hero."