Gilbert Giggles

Parenting Advice 2012

2012-01-16T21:55:00.000-08:00

I told my son that if he didn't stay in bed I would take his new Professor toy away from him for the night.

When he got out of bed I took the toy and said, "now you know you can trust me, good or bad".

He didn't see it that way.

I do what I say, he should too. Right?

This is what I want to know, how many of us parents snuggle with our children who have been put to bed numerous times because in the back of our minds we are considering the fast approaching time when our children will not want us?

I took the Professor toy, but stayed for snuggling. I told my son about my Dad and his snoring and that every night I found it difficult to sleep because his snores rattled our windows.

Sleep apnea isn't funny, but snoring is, especially to a 5 year old.

I DO NOT want a hippopotamus

2011-12-11T10:10:00.001-08:00

Jared

We agreed to spend little on each other this year because we sort of bought a car and our first payment is due at Christmas and we sort of were audited by the IRS again for whatever you and TurboTax did wrong in 2008 and you decided to go ahead and mail the check the 2nd week of December so now it will clear soon and so we decided not to spend lots on each other for Christmas.

So here is what I want:

The Help on DVD - go to Costco
Jane Eyre - the new one on DVD
A gift card to Dillards and carte blanche on Boxing Day
A gift card to ModCloth.com, it's dot com!
A 2-page (or longer) letter detailing why I'm the best girl and you're glad you found me (I lived a quarter mile away) and the nice things you must be thinking about me on a daily basis but are too busy watching sporting events to remember to tell me. - I would enjoy this gift more than the others listed, and bonus, it's free.

Dear Paul Simon

2011-12-04T14:57:00.001-08:00

Dear Paul Simon,

For years I thought that you were saying "Mama don't take my chloroform away". I realize now that it was Kodachrome.

I'm sorry.

I'm just glad I caught this before my mother in law corrected me. That would have ruined the song forever.

Yours,

Sarah H.

P.S. could you write a song about a girl named Sarah?

Gracias

2011-11-23T21:23:00.001-08:00

It is Thanksgiving time and therefore time to post about all the things I am thankful for.

Let's get the big important ones out of the way. I am thankful that I have my two kids. Yesterday Evan asked me for sunflower seeds. After eating the few spoonfulls I gave him he requested more. I poured out a little more and began to walk away. He stopped me and said "oh oh can I have a little more"?

"You want more", I asked.

"Yeah, it's free right", he replied.

I had to actually put a hand down on the kitchen table to hold myself up while the rest of my body rocked with laughter. So what could I do? I gave him more. And he ended things with "now we're getting there".

EVAN I LOVE YOU!

I am so thankful for my Maddie girl. She is the daughter I never even thought to ask for. She is so smart. She is SO TUFF. Seriously she doesn't take any lip from anyone, least of all me. She happens to look like her handsome Dad and his pretty sisters and is therefore beautiful. She's been saying things like "Daddy you're back" when Jared gets back in the car from pumping gas.

She sings Adele and Fleet Foxes and Blur at the top of her lungs. It sounds like this:

"Coulda had it awwwwll, rollin in a deeeeeeep" and "Manalin Jane wassed in the wain NOOOOOOOOO Longer" and "oh my baby, oh baby, oh baby, come on, come on, come on". I realize that last one sounds creepy but it isn't creepy in real time, it's cute.

I am thankful for my husband. He is perfect for me. The other day I said, "oh hey I have a joke to tell you" and before I could tell it he said, "I'll be the judge of that". He makes me laugh and he is cute.

I am thankful for my parents because they took me to church and taught me about Christ and his atonement. I am thankful for my family for being in my corner.

I am so thankful for my friends, music, books, TELEVISION, my job. The list goes on and it is getting late. Thank you for reading. Go and eat as much as you want for Thanksgiving.

Beamer Bummer

2011-11-03T08:10:00.000-07:00

Dear Blue Car,

I've been calling you "the blue car" for years so I don't sound snooty. You are a BMW and you and I are over. Did you notice me packing up the contents I left in your trunk and glove compartment this morning? That was me telling you "it's over". It was strange going through all of that memorabilia. I found a random piece of note paper that said only "Spagett" in my handwriting. I thought that was weird. I cursed the 6-disc CD changer located in the trunk and how stupid and outdated that feature is now. The thing is, you are sort of like having a bad boyfriend who is a user and an abuser. We bought you before we had kids before we realized a family car should be first of all roomy, secondly littered with deep and secure cup holders (Bill Byrson be damned), and third reliable.

You are none of the above.

I hate you.

Yesterday while driving to work some small part of you (resembling a print cartridge) melted and sent the toxic smoke of a chemical burn into my lungs, hair, clothes and car seats. Not to mention the smoke filled the inside of the car completely and made it impossible to see. It would have been nice to have be able to roll down a window at a time like that, you know, driving while blinded with white smoke, but unfortunately all of your cussing windows are broken. I settled on opening the sun roof, knowing that it would take myself and my husband working together as a team to close the sun roof again. My co-workers told me they could smell it when I walked in the office.

I thought about a pivotal part of the movie Bridesmaids while I was clearing out my gear, it was the part when Annie says she "rather die out here then spend another 30 minutes with you" to whatever Jon Hamm's character was named. Just like Annie, I think I'd rather walk and just like Jon, there's no way you'd last 30 minutes. Oh and in case you are confused by this reference Blue Car, Bridesmaids is a movie, I got the DVD for my birthday, but then again you wouldn't know what a DVD is would you, you have a stupid wood panel that hides the cassette tape deck. Ugh, you are the worst.

Born This Weigh(t)

2011-10-05T23:42:00.000-07:00

I heard a joke once. It went something like this:

"Our obsession with weight really begins at birth. I mean think about it. They plop you on the scale the second you are born. It's like 'five pounds, eleven ounces! oh, no, no, no, wipe some of that goop off me and try again'".

That was the joke. I think I was twelve when I heard it. I love that joke.

From what my mom tells me about my birth story I know there was some trouble. I was 3 weeks early. My body temp was low. I didn't want to eat.

I think what probably happened was that I overheard my mom tell the nurses she would be taking me home to a single wide with five other kids and I thought "oh, uh, oh, you know what, I think I'll just, uh maybe go ahead and stay here and you know, die".

That was not as funny as the first joke. But I love that joke too.

I didn't die, obviously. I live in Gilbert so ..... I think we got that body temp thing fixed. I eat.

Today I am going to start eating crazy healthy. I am going to take Dr. Joel Furhman's 6-week challenge. From his book Eat To Live. It may require the purchase of a VitaMix blender.

LDS Conference Bingo

2011-10-01T15:27:00.000-07:00

I hope none of these squares offend you. I sort of borrowed the Bingo template from some unknown person on the internet. I hope they don't mind. Also this is what I am even talking about.

The Empress

2011-09-27T08:32:00.000-07:00

The Empress of Cardigan Empire asked me to write for her today. This can only mean one thing. She has made it to the edge of the world wide web and after exhausting all other options she asked Gilbert Giggles to say hello.

Oh, I said Hello. I said hello all over that empire.

So go there and read it, but leave a nice comment. Seriously today is my dead dad's birthday so don't be rude to me today. 'Less you wanna take a dirt nap too.

(wondering if that dirt nap comment was beneath me)

...

(now I'm wondering if "beneath me" was a pun)

...

(now I am remembering my Sopranos like dream from last night and all of this attitude is making sense)

What Are You Doing Here?

2011-09-19T23:24:00.000-07:00

Stop reading this blog and go to pinterest.

Here: www.pinterest.com

Happier

2011-09-07T22:52:00.000-07:00

Well here it is: I am happier with a job.

I like working.

I found a job that allows me to be a mom from morning until 4:30 PM then skip the fight with my son at dinner over eating and return to my nest to find my children pajama clad if not sleeping.

It's kind of a sweet set up for me.

I ignore the dinner dishes. I remember that I can do them in the morning.

Now just wait until I get my first pay check...... I might just turn a cartwheel.

Growing Up

2011-08-31T10:33:00.000-07:00

The older I get the more disillusioned I become with life. Pretty soon there will be no delusions left to keep me going. What will I do when that day comes?

Maybe, I'll buy a convertible. Maybe, I'll have my boobs done. Nothing crazy of course just big enough to match my waist measurement.

I am on the HCG diet and I am grumpy. I am breaking one of the rules and having regular diet coke. The diet recommends you spend $4.00 on a six pack of Zevia. Zero calorie soda sweetened with Stevia.

My reward for being exhausted all day long is that in the morning the scale is one digit lighter than the day before. I want to quit. I hate myself for starting. My husband says encouraging things like "don't quit", "don't do it", "don't cheat". I hate him for it and tell him every time. "Shut up! I hate you".

I don't really say that to him.

I got a job. I got a job. I start this week. The hours are 5-9PM Mon-Fri and the pay is about double what I would get working retail. Retail is the field I have been applying for over the last six weeks. I started applying at Harkins and proceeded to leave my resume with about a dozen or so employers without updating it to no longer read, "eager to work for Harkins in a part-time position".

I discovered my resume's error before jumping in the car to go to an interview with a company that was not Harkins. They undoubtedly had a resume that also said Harkins too. I tried to fix it by ending my interview with "oh, I'd like to give you an updated resume. Yeah, my education level and work history haven't changed. I just updated it to no longer say 'anxious to find a permanent position with Harkins'".

I watched a program on the Today Show that explored the question, who is happier: Stay At Home Moms or Working Moms. The answer was that the woman who had realistic expectations for her daily life was the least depressed. This program made me face a truth I've been pushing out of my head for a while now. That truth is the recognition that I'm not Cinderella and no one is going to come wave a wand to make my life more glamorous. The truth was that I'd be much happier if lost all my delusions and made reality work.

What I Went Through To Find You On Facebook.

2011-08-15T14:12:00.000-07:00

Meet Becca, she and I are like Anne Shirley and Diana Barry. Not exactly sure which one is Anne and which is Diana, but the point is bosom buddies people. Not exactly sure which one is Buffy and which one is Henry. Since I used to be blond I guess she's Buffy. You want to be Buffy in that scenario because Tom Hanks had a much better post bosom buddies career.

Anyway I wanted to try this new thing on my blog. I think I call "What I Went Through To Find You On Facebook".

Becca, these are the peeps I had to sift through to find you on Facebook.

Are you my Becca? I am not your Becca I am a different Becca Martin (Rebecca Martin)

When I last saw my Becca her hair was straight, are you my Becca? I am not your Becca I am a Wash & Curl marketing dream.

My Becca was born in '81. Are you my Becca? I am not your Becca I was clearly born in the renaissance era.

Are you my... never mind.

You are not my Becca. Now finish whatever it is you are doing in a public restroom so I can wash my hands and continue my search.

Oh, I'm sorry. Now that I am closer I can see you are NOT my Becca you are Leveland Rowns.

Absolutely I Do

2011-08-11T20:21:00.000-07:00

Remember when Dwight wants to form an alliance and Jim seals it with "absolutely I do"?

I don't like them. Alliances. I like Jim and Dwight. Wait did you think I meant that I don't like Jim or Dwight? I do. Like them. Jim and Dwight.

What I don't like are the alliances formed on The Bachelor Pad. This season is my first time watching The Bachelor Pad. It took me all week to get through the 3-hour episode. I have little to say about it except for this:

The way Vienna reacts to Jake is the exact same way my two-year old reacts to the vacuum. In both cases there is no real danger.
Can we talk about Michelle Money? Michelle Money's boobs finally got the television time they were made for. My goodness those things could have their own reality show.
Alli is really really really dumb.
Erica Rose = Elle Woods

For Hire

2011-07-21T22:40:00.000-07:00

I need a part-time gig.

Here are my talents as evidenced to me by my past working experience:

Was told in Columbus Ohio by R while conducting product testing that I, quote, have a way with words.
Was told in Phoenix Arizona by A, after firing someone for falling asleep, that I have chutzpah.
Was told by A, in Phoenix that I have an incredible work ethic. This was said after years of loyal service including little time missed during a hellish pregnancy.
Was told by Student Body in Mesa Arizona that I am funny. *There is some question as to if I was the funniest or rewarded the funniest because the girl who was actually the funniest had a name similar to the name of the mean cheerleader that swears and makes you take the long way to class just to avoid her. In other words if I wasn't really Miss Funny Mesa, I would have been runner up. The good news, I am BFFs with the contender in question so consider me valuable for networking.

To summarize, a talented comedic writer, who will always show up for work, with great networking potential, and could cut a bitch if necessary, is looking to work for you. Type of work, screenplays, babysitting your kid while you work, anything legal and not sales related between the hours of 4:30 - midnight.

Oh and I think I should mention, I ~~could~~ will go blonder if that is what you are in to.

A Sort of Sacrament?

2011-07-19T09:11:00.000-07:00

If it has to be a long post it isn't going to happen.

If it has to be so funny, but also poignant it will never see the web.

But if it can just be something random here and there, I can do it. So here goes.

Maddie (21-month old) says Jesus now, and not even as a swear word. That's one commandment I try to honor. We have enough paintings of the Savior up on our walls that she can just recognize him now.

So we are driving home from church and Maddie is holding the coloring page she received in nursery. Then she starts ripping it. Evan, naturally, is upset by this. He doesn't like that kind of thing. Destruction isn't something I expect to see in his rebellious teenage years. So he makes a fuss. Maddie however, is not deterred, and proceeds to eat her paper.

Evan turns up the volume and demands that she not eat it. I eventually pull my head out of the allergy/cold/excessive heat induced fog it is in and take the paper pieces from Maddie.

Who then whimpers, "my Jesus".

One By One

2011-05-25T14:11:00.000-07:00

I am a cussing wreck lately.

A wreck I tell you.

I, for one, am sick of it. I am gunna make a change. I think this unhappiness business is all in my head. So here is a list I've made to change my mind.

Ten reasons why I should be happy and not a wreck and not down and out, just hip hop happy.

First, I am funny.

Second, I've got my health.

Third, my kids and husband are healthy.

Fourth, I have a pool this summer.

Fifth, I have lots of people who love me. Hi family. Hello friends.

Sixth, I am not a bad person. I have made some mistakes, but I am not a bad person.

Seventh, I don't have to work outside of the home anymore.

Eighth, I am married to Jared Hendrickson. He is handsome, smart, funny. He was the only guy at the Royksopp concert that knew every word to every song and still could change the oil in his car. And despite recent evidence, he loves me more than he loves the Manchester United.

Ninth, my children are beautiful, talented, smart, sweet and the ARE IN LOVE WITH ME!

Tenth, I am a stay at home mom living in the United States with a nice husband and a car that runs, why on earth should I be unhappy about anything. Seriously I don't even know what real problems look like.

Schpilkas

2011-05-24T13:27:00.000-07:00

Ok I have a thesis, now just tell me what discipline this falls into and I will enroll in the nearest university and become a big hit!

So here it is, Malcolm Gladwell:

"One will always become what one pretends to be"

or maybe...

"Eventually you become the joke"

I actually need to put more thought into it. Ever since Mother's day's revelation that I am a Jewish East-coast Mom living in a Mormon Arizonian's body, I've been asking myself the same question. How did I get here? I think the answer echoes from the walls of the cabins of Camp Kenyon. It was at Camp Kenyon, or was it Kamp Kenyon, where I first put on the robes of "funny girl". Or at least I remember trying to be that girl. I did my best impression of the Linda Richman character that SNLs Mike Meyers brought to life. And now.... I mother like Linda Richman.

I think the process of becoming the joke started long before Kamp Kenyon. In fact I know it started in elementary school. Somewhere on the playground of Porter elementary me and girls my age would say certain words in our attempt to jokingly play the role of "valley girl". Now none of us can have an actual conversation without saying "like" more often than required and "totally" slips in there too.

"That's what she said" is a punchline that used to offend me. Now...... I may have tweeted something terrible to a dear friend to the tune of "that's what she said".

But I've stopped watching The Family Guy so I wonder why I am still getting fat.

Twisters and Popsicles

2011-05-23T13:07:00.000-07:00

When my mother was pregnant with me she lived in tornado country. She already had five children and lived in a mobile home. When there were tornado warnings she had to pack up her five children and head to the shelters, which I believe was the local high school.

Her two little boys were often very naughty and would climb on top of the mobile home and ran back and forth on the roof. Yikes! I scream at my 20-month old for jumping on the couch.

She received a tornado warning whilst very very pregnant only to find that her two little boys were once again on the roof of the mobile home. Unable to coerce the youngest into condescension, unable to hoist her pregnant body to the rooftop, she prayed for help.

Moments later she was waving a Popsicle at her young son and inviting him to join the rest of the family for Popsicle time. He took the bait and made it down safely.

I think about this story all the time. I often think "five kids in a mobile home", no thanks. Today I've been thinking that hot as it is, I like living here. We are blessed to live in a calamity free state. I hope it stays that way.

Music I Was Raised By

2011-05-09T21:33:00.000-07:00

Do you know what? My father raised me with the best soundtrack music ever. What do I mean? I mean that the songs I woke up to (because he played them at a loud volume) on Sunday mornings were some of the best. There were some important musicians my dad failed me on. He said, and I quote, "when your mother and I got married we just thought of The Beatles as a silly boy band". Gasp! Lucky for me my brother Josh became obsessed with the fab four and by fifth grade I knew every lyric to the song Help! and all the funniest lines in the movie Hard Day's Night.

But let's get back to the Pop's repertoire shall we? My Diddy was a tenor. He had a great voice. He had a unique childhood, in that, his own father Golden Miller died when my father was only two-months along in gestation. For those of you who argue that Nature outweighs Nurture, my father was proof. After reading through my grandfather's year book from 1939 we discovered that the late Golden Miller acted in his high school's plays. After this discovery I wondered, could he sing. My question was answered last summer when I was able to reconnect with the Millers and listen to recordings of my great grandfather Henry Lamont Miller's voice. I have deduced that I come from a long line of talented Miller Men. A gift my oldest brother inherited.

My Dad like Baber-shop. He liked Burt Bacharach (I'll feature him another time). He liked the Kingston Trio. He liked Andy Williams. He loved the Mormon Tabernacle Choir.

Dad encourage us to be musical. He paid Connie Young to teach us piano. He purchased a really old and out of tune piano for my sister and I when Connie Young said our Casio keyboard didn't cut it. He made my sister and I strip the old piano with whatever poison you use to strip a piano of its paint. When I got a little tiny bit more advanced on the piano than my big sister my Dad pulled me aside and asked me to start my practice as soon as I got home from school so I would be finished before she got home. He thought it would be better for her if she didn't have a bratty little sister showing her up.

When I got bored with my piano lesson books I started to play stuff from his collection of sheet music. Now I love songs like "A Summer Place", which I have embedded below.

Here is my favorite version:

Can we open a discussion in the comments about how the men in that video kiss? Can we talk about how none of us have ever been kissed like that. My husband came close once. This lady in Manchester gave us free tickets to see the united and he gave her a very forceful hug. I think he would have kissed her. I would have let him.

Wondering what the lyrics are? Let Mr. Williams help you with that

Not THAT kind of Herpes

2011-05-09T14:39:00.000-07:00

A few days ago Jared got a cold sore/fever blister on his lip. Today I woke up with that bothersome tickle on the corner of my mouth. By breakfast I had a cold sore on the right side of my mouth. By lunch I had another one on the upper left side of my lip.

I hate hate hate cold sores.

Everyone in my family gets them.

And now thanks to kissing my children without thinking about it, my children get them.

Here is what I just read about cold sores on webmd.com

"The herpes simplex virus that causes cold sores cannot be cured. After you get infected, the virus stays in your body for the rest of your life. If you get cold sores often, treatment can reduce the number of cold sores you get and how severe they are."

That's a terrible thing to know about yourself.

If I don't want to hang out with you for two weeks and if I don't show up at church for a Sunday or more, it is because I have what should really be called "Herpes Face". Seriously why do we bother with the niceties of "cold sore", "fever blister"? Sure I did nothing lewd or wrong to catch "Herpes Face", but innocent as I may be, I still have "Herpes Face". I think I'd rather have, fat-face, or pizza-face, or moon-face, or but-her-face, than Herpes Face.

Mother's Day

2011-05-08T10:07:00.000-07:00

Heath sent this to me this morning and I laughed. He said the actor's accent reminded him of me, but I have to admit I think it was what "she" says and not how she says it the is most like my personal style of mothering.

Happy Mother's Day.

p.s. Mom please email me back so we can skype. Please.

Jer

2011-05-06T10:03:00.000-07:00

19 years ago today my brother Jeremiah killed himself. There is some difference of opinion between me and other members of my family as to what his death was. I think there is an opinion that it was an accident. My father would always say Jer was "horsing around". That is one of the phrases he used to describe his death. I don't think my father ever said the words "he committed suicide". But my opinion is that his death was a noteless suicide.

I was eleven on the night of May 6th 1992. My mother and I were at Porter elementary school for my band concert. I played the clarinet. I remember squeaking my way through "twinkle twinkle little star", then after the concert and back in the band room claiming that is was "the saxophones" when Trevor Ashby called me out on ruining the concert. Sometimes it is just hard to admit what really happened, and I get that.

I had reason to hate my older brother. I think pleanty of 11-year old girsl might say the same thing about their 14-year old brothers. And I did hate him. I didn't try to hide it either. I remember running into the house to grab my babysitting money so my mom and I could eat at Taco Bell after the concert. Jeremiah was playing video games in the front room and asked me what we were doing and where we going.

"No where and you can't come" was my answer. These were the last words I ever spoke to him. When we returned from Taco Bell and a quick trip to Wal-Greens there were emergency vehicles at our house and lights flashing. My mom kept saying "Sarah, tell me that's not our house". It was. We arrived moments before my brother's body was carried into an ambulance.

From that moment to the point of my parent's return from the hospital these are the things I remember:

My sister, Delaina, who had left our faith years before suggested we gather as a family (siblings only) and pray. This was a clue that the situation was serious.

Jeremiah's dog "Bar-b-Que" barking hysterically in the backyard while the EMTs moved about our house.

Looking at the floor while Bab-b-Que barked after I received a pitiful look from one of the EMTs.

They left a pillow at our house (the EMTs) and for weeks I wondered if they were going to come back to our house and ask for it back. I was eleven remember.

Church people outside the house and inside the house. Sister Huber was putting dishes away and folding kitchen towels while my parents were gone at the hospital. I remember she asked me how my mom kept the kitchen towels so white. I had the good humor to suggest she used bleach and smile.

My parents came home. We sat on the sectional couch waiting for the news and my dad choked out "Jeremiah's gone". Sister Huber closed the cupboard and walked out of the kitchen. I like her, but ever since that moment I wondered if she just realized she didn't need to be yards away cleaning our kitchen at such a moment, OR if she waited long enough to get the information she wanted and then went outside to tell everyone else. In a non-menacing way I think it was probably both.

Jeremiah's death shaped my family like water creates canyons. My father never ever recovered. I spent years feeling guilty. My grandmother moved in and the house went through major remodeling. My brother Josh decided to embrace the gospel of our faith and made changes that enabled him to build stregnthen his testimony of the savior and serve a mission for our church. For years I cultivated resentment towards my parents, especially my father for things he said to me about the way I treated my brother just a few days after his death. In college at the admonition and encouragement of my best friend Rebecca I met with a BYU counselor to hash out my childhood, focusing specifically on Jeremiah's death. But, it wasn't until I held a baby boy of my own, my Evan, that I finally started to comprehend the devastation my parents must have suffered. A realization that came a few weeks too late for me to admit it to my father.

Now that I am a mom and I can see how insanely close to Mother's day my brother's death was I think of my mother. She is a saint.

Now when I think of my brother I say a little prayer for his soul. I pray that God will forgive my brother for the choices he made in this world. I pray that God will forgive him for taking his life. When I get upset about my father's death I close my eyes and imagine that my father and Jeremiah are building a house together. I envision a sunny late afternoon with sawdust and jeans and a little furry Bar-b-Que walking about them. I imagine that they are working together to build the perfect home for my mother. It brings me peace and makes me smile to think of this. Of course, at this exact moment I am crying my eyes out, but usually it makes me smile.

I want to wrap this post up more poetically but truthfully if I leave my baby girl in her high chair any longer she is never going to forgive me and I am late for a smoothie party with Tatum so I will just end it like this.

Some Melodious Sonnet

2011-05-05T17:46:00.000-07:00

I like this song. It was in the old Mormon Hymnal (the dark blue one), but not in the newer one with the green cover and I wish it had made the cut because it is one of my favorite "churchy" songs. I like the bit that says "here's my heart, oh, take and seal it, seal it for thy courts above". Sometimes when I feel like I don't measure up to a certain standard and that I am not holy enough I listen to this song and remember that I have a loving Heavenly Father who knows my heart. What do you think? Does it remind you too much of folksy scenes from "O, Brother Where Art Thou"? I included links to the Sufjan Stevens version and another one that is more in tune with a church choir. The first time I heard this song it was in a summer school session of seminary. I had to take a summer school session of seminary after I graduated from high school so I could upgrade my 3-year seminary diploma for a legitimate four-year one. Somewhere between freshman year and senior year I had seminary before lunch. In other words, somewhere between my freshman and senior year I had a two hour lunch, but I cannot remember what year that was.

Envy

2011-05-04T22:18:00.001-07:00

Whenever I find my thoughts are occupied envying the lives, talents, looks, careers of others I like to remember a passage from C.S. Lewis found in The Screwtape Letters.

"Fix in his mind the idea that humility consists in trying to believe those talents to be less valuable than he believes...The great thing is to make him value an opinion for some quality other than truth, thus introducing and element of dishonesty and make-believe into the heart of what otherwise threatens to become a virtue. By this method thousands of humans have been brought to think that humility means pretty women trying to believe they are ugly and clever men trying to believe they are fools. And since what they are trying to believe may, in some cases, be manifest nonsense, they cannot succeed in believing it and we have the chance of keeping their minds endlessly revolving on themselves in an effort to achieve the impossible. To anticipate the Enemy's (God's) strategy, we must consider His aims. The Enemy wants to bring the man to a state of mind in which he could design the best cathedral in the world, and know it to be the best, and rejoice in the fact, without being any more (or less) or otherwise glad at having done it than he would be if it had been done by another. The Enemy wants him, in the end, to be so free from any bias in his own favour that he can rejoice in his own talents as frankly and gratefully as in his neighbour's talents - or in a sunrise, an elephant, or a waterfall. He wants each man, in the long run, to be able to recognise all creatures (even himself) as glorious and excellent things.....His long-term policy, I fear, to restore to them a new kind of self-love - a charity and gratitude for all selves, including their own; when they have really learned to love their neighbours as themselves, they will be allowed to love themselves as their neighbours."

I looked at a few blogs and websites tonight that inspired envious thoughts. "She's prettier than me", "Her outfit is more pulled together than mine will ever be", "She's a better writer than I am".

I like to think that every time I rejoice in the talents, looks, fortune, personality, and situation of others, I am that much closer to the "new kind of self-love" that God wants me to have. So girl from I Believe in Unicorns, I like your hair and your skirt. Girl from Atlantic-Pacific, I like your style and I am so happy you've got the fashion budget to showcase the talent you possess.

Supplication

2011-04-28T22:22:00.000-07:00

Listen I was thinking about posting a little prayer on this blog for Prince William and Miss Middleton, but I am too tired and a little uncomfortable doing so. I do, however, hope that no harm or danger will interrupt the wedding, I hope that William and Catherine will be very happy. I hope they will be faithful to one another. I hope that they can have children. I hope that they are not too sad that Diana isn't alive to be there. I hope that my cucumber sandwiches taste yummy tomorrow while I watch the wedding. I hope that this union brings happiness to everyone. Oh, and I hope it doesn't rain.

I hope there is at least SOME coverage that includes Prince Harry. Some people call him "the naughty one", others "the spare", but to me he is really just "the better looking of the two princes".

To health, safety, happiness, babies, sunny skies, and handsome "Best Men"!

Amen!

Promises, Promises

2011-04-27T09:23:00.000-07:00

It looks like my kids are not going to let me blog today, so I will quickly say that I heard on the news that Kate Middleton has asked that the phrase "and obey" be removed from the vows she and William will make on Friday.

Go Kate!

I can think of a few better promises.

Love, Honor, Cherish.

Love, Honor, Respect.

Love, Honor, Support.

Love, Honor, Be FAITHFUL!

Love, Honor, Listen.

Obey is something you tell a child to do.

Venue

2011-04-26T07:34:00.000-07:00

Did you know the wedding will be at Westminster Abbey?

How fancy.

I told my husband two days ago that if I could do our wedding over again we'd have done it in Las Vegas with a friend or two. Then surprised our family with the news that "we're married". But I must say after Vegas, doesn't Westminster Abbey seem perfect?

Here are some facts about who has been married in the Abbey that I lifted from Wikipedia.

Chronology:

1.11 November 1100: King Henry I of England was married to Matilda of Scotland

2.9 April 1269: Edmund of Crouchback, 1st Earl of Leicester and Lancaster, son of King Henry III was married to Lady Aveline de Forz

3.30 April 1290: Joan of Acre, daughter of King Edward I was married to the 7th Earl of Gloucester

4.8 July 1290: Margaret of England, daughter of King Edward I was married to John II, son of Duke of Brabant

5.20 January 1382: King Richard II of England was married to Anne of Bohemia

6.27 February 1919: Princess Patricia of Connaught was married to Commander Alexander Ramsay

7.28 February 1922: The Princess Mary, daughter of King George V was married to Viscount Lascelles

8.26 April 1923: The Prince Albert, Duke of York (later King George VI), second son of King George V was married to Lady Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon (later to become The Queen Mother).

9.29 November 1934: The Prince George, Duke of Kent, son of King George V was married to Princess Marina of Greece and Denmark

10.20 November 1947: The Princess Elizabeth (later Queen Elizabeth II), elder daughter of King George VI was married to Lieutenant Philip Mountbatten RN (later Duke of Edinburgh).

11.6 May 1960: The Princess Margaret, second daughter of King George VI was married to Antony Armstrong-Jones (later Earl of Snowdon)

12.24 April 1963: Princess Alexandra of Kent was married to Angus Ogilvy

13.14 November 1973: The Princess Anne, only daughter of Queen Elizabeth II was married to Captain Mark Phillips

14.23 July 1986: The Prince Andrew, Duke of York, second son of Queen Elizabeth II, was married to Miss Sarah Ferguson

Here are some London songs you should listen to if you've got a minute.

All The Umbrellas In London (as covered by Arcade Fire, but the song is by The Magnetic Fields)

England - The National

London Calling - The Clash

Hold On To Your Hats And Glasses Folks!

2011-04-25T08:56:00.000-07:00

It is time for the Royal Wedding countdown to begin. We will kick it off with something we ought to top it off with, hats. I was not invited to attend the wedding of Kate and William, but if I were I would be purchasing something fancy to wear on my head.

Here are some options:

Springy mini hat

Lemon Meringue hat

Move Your Bloomin Ass hat

London doesn't do good things for my hair (or does it). Below I provide the best and worst of photographic proof of how my hair fares in the London air.

The Worst: (if you have bangs, you must spend money on a hair dryer that works in London)

The Best (is this where Evan gets his curly hair

If I were invited, I'd be wearing this one.

2011-04-24T16:27:00.000-07:00

We moved. My kids were sick, possibly with the Rotavirus. And every minute I spend not unpacking the boxes in the garage is a minute wasted. The blog has been neglected, but I promise to blog all week. I am excited for the Royal Wedding this coming Friday ....

Things I like and Things I Hate

2011-04-08T16:59:00.000-07:00

Things I like: Kaiser Chiefs
Things I hate: banks
Updating the sidebar to reflect the things I like and hate.
For now enjoy the music:

Tangled

2011-03-18T23:43:00.000-07:00

Here are some bulleted points explaining why I haven't been posting:

nothing funny happened
I am packing up boxes so I can move
I am spending time with my mother because she is leaving the country for two years
I am moving next week, did I already mention that?
my kids have a radar that beeps like mad whenever I sit in the office chair at the computer

That being said, how about a sneak peek on my upcoming new hair do. I go to see Jenny J. the best hairdresser on the planet tomorrow. Here are the photos I sent her. I said make me look famous, in a good way, not a Rachel Uchitel way, oh but come to think of it I luv Rachel's hair so maybe...

The JLo hair-do

Alice Cullen, I mean Ashely Greene

I might be able to pull of the hair-do, but I could never muster up that kind of crazy. Isn't that floating rose the grossest thing you have ever seen?

It's "pretty cool"

This is my favorite. Think I'm going with Jessica B.

Thoughts?

Refusing to Try the Savory Truffle

2011-02-26T19:10:00.000-08:00

For any of you who don't have children yet and those of you who have children, but the children are still babies and are not yet on solid foods.....

Telling your picky eater he can have an oreo will not induce him to chew and swallow one bite of a grilled cheese sandwich.

Telling your picky eater you will throw his beloved "stinky" the garbage truck into the trash if he doesn't try one bite of a grilled cheese sandwich will not motivate him to try it.

Actually throwing stinky in the trash will only result in tears on an empty stomach.

Raising your voice will not solicit a bite.

Providing five different rewards will not get your picky eater eating.

Telling your picky eater he can go to Wal-Mart (or his favorite store) will leave the bite of sandwich in tact.

Actually loading up the baby sister of your picky eater with the announcement that she has earned a trip to Wal-Mart will leave the bit of sandwich uneaten.

Nothing will work, give up now.

After The Savory Truffle

2011-02-11T08:43:00.000-08:00

I tried eating vegetarian this week. But since cows are not made of sugar I haven't lost any weight.

If you ask my husband, he will tell you I am not a vegetarian. He and I have been arguing that if you eat fish you are not a vegetarian. I say you are. He says "really because I've always thought that fish was considered meat". He says it with that tone and that look of "did I ever tell you about how I won the spelling bee in 5th grade, beating out all the sixth graders". He did. He has. And he accepted his prize of a thesaurus by taking it from the hands of the principle and saying "thesaurus t-h-e-s..." So you can imagine how mad I get when he uses that look/tone with me.

Turns out I haven't been a vegetarian all week, I've been a Pescetarian.

PESCETARIAN: (noun) A vegetarian who eats fish, in spanish. A person Jared Hendrickson considers not to be vegetarian at all. A person most vegans and lacto-ovo vegetarians don't consider to be vegetarian either. See also, omnivore or normie.

I wanted to share a few of my experiences as such in english.

First, these are the kinds of passages vegans/vegetarians pen that make most omnivores worry that they are not cut from the same cloth.

"Three days later, he and Christopher were racing canoes down the Amazon, stark naked and paddling furiously, with me and Laura behind them, laughing. Vegan friends are the best." -- Alicia Silverstone, The Kind Diet

"Don't forget that cooking with quinoa at least once a week will elevate you to level 7 vegan in no time." - Isa Moskowitz, An American Tale, just kidding it was Veganomicon

Secondly, these are the things I like about vegetarian dishes:

1. You don't have to remember to defrost the chicken to have dinner.
2. You don't have to worry about the place on the counter that the chicken touched while it was thawing.
3. You won't swear when you realize the bag you froze the chicken in sprung a leak and now pink juice is all over the top shelf of your fridge as well as down the sides and on the milk.
4. You can be sort of confident that you are eating healthy.
5. It is cheap.

Third I not positive I am going to be pesky forever, but so far I like it. Almost as much as I like sugar. I want to say more, but my daughter of 17-months is ready to kill me for ignoring her so much and she has already empty the lower shelves in the office of all their contents to get my attention. If I don't stop typing now I can expect her to aspire to that of a reality show star who dates juiceheads because mom never cared.

The Woman

2011-02-06T08:16:00.000-08:00

My mother is going to Italy. She will depart near the end of March for a two-year mission in Milan. I know I will miss her, but I am too excited for her to care. Her name is Donna, but in Italian Dona means "The Woman".

Yesterday I got to go shopping with the woman for clothing more suitable for her mission. Wanna know where you can get 7 suits for $168.00? Burlington.

I am thinking of finding some part-time work so we can visit her in Italy.

My mom has been through some stuff in her life. I won't list them, but believe me when I say she deserves some happy chapters to balance out the dramatic ones. I am happy that this next chapter will be set in Milan.

The Real Housewives of Uganda

2011-01-25T11:21:00.001-08:00

Hey know how I have one of those maps at the bottom of my blog, eh?

Well sometimes I check it and wonder, "who do I know in New Zealand".

Today I checked it and saw that there was a dot in Africa and before I could say "who do I know in Africa" I realized that it's my sister Delaina and her Kris visiting my blog from Uganda.

Hello ladies.

Delaina and Kris are pretty much saving the world from poverty one village at a time. Remember I mentioned FINCA. Well that's what brings them to Uganda.

Here are some pictures from their emails.

I will probably never leave the states to help women in poverty start up small businesses. And let's face it neither will you. However, after watching The Bachelor and The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills last night I thought of something I can do. I can stop being caddy and competitive and cruel. I can chose never to fight with my sister whilst wearing a short cocktail dress. I'm gonna try to just be a better sister to my real sisters and to the women I associate with. If I fail on this promise you have permission to pull my hair out. This promise makes sense if you watch Bravo TV all day like I do.

Making This a Full Time Job

2011-01-19T21:27:00.001-08:00

When I had a full-time job I had a schedule.

I knew I had to be out of the house within a 5 minute window. I knew if I didn't get out of the house during that 5 minute window I would miss my bus. I knew where to park so the bus driver would see me running and would be compelled to stop and open his doors in case I missed the 5 minute window. I knew when the next bus left in case that still didn't work or if I got stopped at the stupid red light by Target. I knew where to drive to to get another bus as a last resort. I knew if the bus was stuck in traffic, my boss was 15 minutes behind that traffic and not in the carpool lane.

I knew if I had a meeting that day. I knew if the meeting was face to face or on the phone. I knew if I had what I liked to call "a speaking part" in the phone meetings. I knew how to give myself a clever thing to say even if I didn't have a speaking part in the face to face meetings.

I always had a shower and a hairdo by 6:30 in the morning. Sometimes the make-up was applied on the bus. Other times at my desk while my computer fired up.

I always had a cold drink by 9 AM. I always had a lunch break. I had deadlines. I met my deadlines. I had calendars. I had reminders. I had a paycheck. I had lots of places to eat lunch. I learned to hate eating at Subway. I learned which sidewalks had more homeless people than other ones. I learned which of the people to avoid sitting next to on the bus.

If I were in the elevator with more than one stranger I tried to say something funny. I tried to act like it wasn't a big deal, but I was happy when I made people laugh. If you make a joke about being married, being a parent, or something sarcastic about work, the people stuck in an elevator with you will laugh. They have no choice.

At about 2 PM everyday I started to look forward to seeing my kids. I remember being greeted at the door with "Mommy you're home, I'm so glad to see you".

This job of staying at home with the kids is very different. The most clever thing I've said lately was "stop bonking her or I'm going to flick you". By my own standards I haven't been exceeding or meeting expectations. I am wondering if I should try just for a bit treating this like a job or a business. I'm not sure how though, but I do know that the dress code will be casual. And I might let my kids wear Hawaiian shirts on Fridays.

Please Print this Email Before Considering the Environment

2011-01-07T11:51:00.000-08:00

Why is it so terrible to throw things away?

A few months back I found a box in a closet full of sewing patterns that I never opened. A few of them were coupled with fabric that was purchased with the best intentions. Nothing ever came of my fabric/pattern purchase. I have had the fabric and patterns for almost 10 years.

In the last 10 years I've lived in Mesa, Queen Creek and Gilbert. The box of fabric/patterns moved each time.

Why?

Today I threw the last of it in the trash. Putting only the larger pieces of fabric in the donate pile.

Then I went through the sewing stuff Kona left after making the dreamcoat and threw most of that away too. To be honest I don't know why I kept the few remnants of fabric, ribbon, thread that I did. I know exactly what will happen to the fabric, ribbon, thread between now and years from now. Nothing. Don't hate Kona.

My mom called me this morning and asked me if I wanted any of her sewing stuff. Ha ha ha. NO! Then she said that she found two patterns that she cut out in the 70s and never sewed together. Would I be willing to take on that project should she not be able to finish it before her mission in March? "Sure". Wait what?! If you haven't had time to finish it in the last 30 years why not throw it away?

Then she asked would I be able to finish a dress she intended to sew for my sister as a surprise. "NO, no, no I can't do that".

I'm not mad at my mom, but I don't want to find thirty year old projects in my closet when I am in my sixties and planning a mission to Italy. I hope she isn't mad at me for this post. Why is it such a terrible thing to throw stuff away?

I will make the earth a promise. I won't throw anymore fabric away. Because I am not planning on sewing anymore.

Fine I'll Post My Damn Resolutions

2011-01-05T09:08:00.001-08:00

First is to stop swearing. What was once so funny became less so when repeated by my four-year old.

Second drop some of this weight until the scale shows a buck teens.

Third to grow closer to God through faithful scripture study and meaningful prayer.

Fourth to clean up this house until it is more organized that my religion and purge it of it's iniquities. By iniquities I mean all the junk that we don't need anymore. This is where you come in my family-in-law. I have your stuff at my house. Every corner I turn reveals more of your stuff. I don't want your stuff. Why do I have your stuff? I am moving to my mom's already furnished home. At which point my stuff and her stuff will have to live together like contestants in a reality show. Come and get your stuff. Your VHS tapes of bands we listened to in high school are currently bothering the order in my home. Come get them. Please.

Fifth to appreciate my blessings so much that I am blissed out all the time. I want to really love my life and I think I've got to count those blessings and cherish them more.

Let's begin now shall we.....

Thank you mom for letting me borrow your car.

Stage Mom

2010-12-23T22:31:00.000-08:00

I sat down at the computer because I had this great idea while washing tonight's dishes that we would create a Christmas Card Video on YouTube and send a link to everyone we love. We didn't send out Christmas Cards this year and I thought that as long as I keep the video short enough people would get a kick out of it.

Things were going well. I started in January and took note of the file name for the images that would be good for the video. But things took a turn and now the project has been dumped for something more important.

While searching through our photos I found lots of video of Evan. There are five of him on one night humming "Habanera". He liked the song because Mr. Fredrickson rides down his stairs in the beginning of the film UP! to the tune of "Habanera". These five videos told a far less cute story than that of a three year old who has opera stuck in his head. The louder message was that of a pushy mom. I can tell by his face and the fact that he is freshly bathed and in his jammies, that he was too tired to make a video. I asked him to say "Good afternoon my name is Russell" too often. I say "duh duh du du" trying to goad him into singing the rest (like he had been doing around the house earlier that day).

But wait there is more.

A few file folders later I found a video of Evan in his jammies with a Rockabilly hair-do, once again right after bath time. In this one I am asking him repeatedly to sing Natasha Bedingfield's "Pocket Full of Sunshine" song. Evan is wearing sunglasses and has been given Tupperware and plastic spoons for a pretend drum set. I am coaching him while my husband is holding the camera. Evan starts to sing his own song that he had stuck in his head. It was a song from They Might Be Giant's "Ready or Not Here Comes Science". But like an idiot I keep saying "Hey Evan, I got a pocket, got a pocket". If I would have just listened I would have heard my son sing "the sun is a mass of incandescent gas". My husband, who isn't an idiot, picked it up right away and started singing along with him without missing a beat. And then, because I never learn, I actually said "hey Evan, I got a pocket, got a pocket..."

Grumble. I am feeling angry with myself for being such a jackass. Must remember this Christmas not to ruin the family videos by speaking. Must remember to let my kid be a kid. Must remember that a goading parent will kill the cute in the impromptu stage of childhood. Must stop blogging and go to sleep before I confess to any other parenting flaws.

Happy Holidays, we love you, and my kids are cute, but if you don't get a card or e-mail, hope that it means I spent more time exhibiting sound character than trying to force anyone to be in character. I definitely doesn't mean we don't appreciate you.

Kinemortophobia

2010-12-20T11:26:00.000-08:00

Well I never thought I'd be the kind of person to have an irrational fear of anything. Did you just cough the word "crickets" under your breath? Idiot. I am not talking about crickets. By the way, my fear of crickets stems from looking in the mirror and finding one on my neck. Oh and let's not forget when I was pregnant with Evan and one crawled down the back of my shirt. Eeek my shoulders just rolled together thinking about that one. My rational fear of crickets is built on my foundation of bad experiences with them.

I write today of another fear, fear of zombies. I gave up watching "Always Sunny In Philadelphia" with my husband months ago, but last night I watched the Christmas episode. There was this scene where Charlie sees a line of children at the mall waiting to see Santa and goes nuts. Charlie attacks Santa by biting his neck and when he is finally pulled of the poor jolly fat man, Charlie's mouth and chin are covered in blood. It was gross. It reminded me of the zombie's in The Walking Dead.

Every time I watch a zombie on TV I have a difficult time sleeping.

So this morning at 4 AM when Evan shouted gibberish in his sleep, (from the pet bed), and my husband sat up in bed and shouted, "what the heck was that", and I said with a snotty tone "it was Evan having a nightmare", and everyone else was back to sleep in a chirp....I stayed awake for an hour considering zombies.

Thinking thoughts like "is the door locked" (yes), "was that someone walking on the stairs" (no), "what is that in the corner" (guitar), "what was that creaking" (the house creeks), ......

My husband told me if zombies are keeping me up at night he NEVER wants to hear me complain about being tired again.

Jenny J.

2010-12-03T17:52:00.000-08:00

There came a point this week when I hit a new low.

I was in a drive through ordering a double-single when I realized my debit card might have expired. At that point I decided I shouldn't have worn my pajamas to pick up a burger. Then I noticed that my car's hood was smoking. With no escape I planned my most genuinely surprised face. So that when my card was declined I could make "oh no today's the first isn't it" believable. Then I started adding the amount of time it would take to drive to my house, dig through mail, activate new card, drive back to burger joint to pay for cold fries. I heaved a sigh and thought "Rebecca Larson would never be sitting in the drive through in her pajamas ordering a double single with a smoking engine and an expired debit card".

Rebecca Larson is a fake name but she represents a very real person. I can think of a few Rebecca Larsons to compare myself to. She eats salad for lunch and one that she probably threw together herself because she keeps her fridge stocked with salad ingredients. She doesn't go through drive through food joints very often and when she does it is not in her pajamas. She doesn't have a pile of mail somewhere with a shiny new debit card. And her engine isn't smoking.

Things got better.

First of all the card went through. Secondly I had a double-single, delicious! Third I called my sister and she made me feel better.

Lastly, a few hours later I paid a visit to Jenny J. She took me from two inches of root regrowth to rock star. If there comes a point in your life when you need to be made into a rock star, call Jenny J. She is really good at doing hair. She works at Hair-Do. She is a working mom. She has a degree in nutrition, making her a well rounded, intelligent glamour technician.

If you want Jenny's info leave me a comment and I will send it to you.

Confessions of an Under Prepared Parent

2010-11-28T21:43:00.000-08:00

Not that it really matters, but the issue of "pets for kids" has come up a few times since I had kids. Let me tell you I side with those that view pets as kids. I do. I have no pets but the stories I have heard about puppies and the insane similarities to newborns/babies converted me. Call your dog your baby. I won't judge. I will probably just nod in agreement.

This brings me to my first official Confession of an Under Prepared Parent. For the last two nights I have had to vacate my own bed in the wee hours of morn (4-6) because my son (4 years old) climbs into bed and hogs all the space.

Hush up whatever you just muttered under your breath about not letting my kid sleep in my bed, or putting him back in his room, or whatever else it was. There is nothing more relentless than my four year old boy. Nothing. My final surrender to let him sleep in my bed took place only after we put him back in his own bed twice. At one point he went kicking and screaming and waking the baby.

Tonight I have placed a Thomas the Tank Engine inflatable sleeping bag by my bedside. Should the four year old wander into my room and request a place in our bed he will be banished bedside in what I must say strongly resembles a pet bed.

Day Dreams

2010-11-10T13:07:00.000-08:00

When I am quiet there is a chance I am planning clever things to say to Matt Lauer when he is interviewing me on the Today show.

When I am quiet there is also a chance that I am debating some issue in my head and trying to decide where I stand on it.

When I am quiet I might be thinking about my Dad and wishing for the millionth time that I had taken a picture of him holding my son before he died.

When I am quiet there is a great possibility that I am thinking of something stupid I did in high school. I might be quiet because I am regretting that I never finished college or stayed at BYU or at least kissed Dave Honeycutt when I was in Provo, or anyone in Provo for that matter.

I complain. I mostly complain.

This is the month of Thanksgiving. So this shall be my last complainy post for a while. I will give thanks or say nothing at all until Turkey Day.

My complaint is as follows: I feel like I have to do EVERYTHING!

When it comes to this household I feel heavy with responsibility. I got the apple juice out last night to get a kid a drink. But I was also trying to get out the door to go somewhere and when I awoke this morning the juice was still left out. WHY? Obviously because I didn't put it away. Can't any one else see it and do that for me? The fridge is over crowded with old food, my job. The office looks like we were robbed, my job. Dishes, me. Toilets, ughhh, me. Dinner, baths, bedtime, dusting, trash, clutter, birthdays, reading time, me.

Why do I keep stepping over that dime sized bit of pink paper on the stairway? There is a better chance that I will get my chance to call Matt Lauer glib than there is of someone else in this house throwing that bit of paper away.

Earlier today I had a hair stuck to my sweater, I pulled it off and before I dropped it on the floor, I paused, realizing that it would stay on the floor until I did something about it and walked over to the trash where I threw it away.

In other words I feel responsible for every hair in this house. If there is one out of place, it's on me.

Oh my fellow wives, moms, females. Tell me what you dream about. And tell me, is your first reaction when you realize your toilets, dishes, or stairways need cleaning to feel heavy and to ask "why do I have to do everything"?

Note: I love my husband. Without him I actually would have to do everything. Can you say yard work, oil changes, those air conditioning filter thingies. And like most husbands if I ask for help I will get it. Don't get all Dr. Laura on me in the comments.

Halloween 2010

2010-11-03T08:33:00.001-07:00

Russell the Wilderness Explorer and his pet bird Kevin from the movie "Up!"

I nearly decided to find a church that would give me a day off and a 10% raise, but then it all worked out and my attitude has been saved, read on.

The Friday before Halloween was our ward (cuz I'm a Mormon you know) Fall Festival. The Town of Gilbert also decided Friday was a good day to do a slurry seal on my streets. It was then illegal to drive on my street or up and down my driveway. Just to be clear this meant I had no access to my garage with my car.

The Husband decided late Thursday night that the answer to this problem was to pass all of our Fall Festival items: one hot crock pot full of chili, two hot crock pots full of nacho cheese, baskets of paper plates, forks, spoons, cups over our backyard fence. His truck would be parked on the somewhat busy residential street behind our home and he'd be standing on the other side of the fence catching the crockpots. I reminded him that I was only 5 feet three inches tall and that hot chili to the face usually lands one in the ER. He was fine with those reminders.

Sigh.

I was stressed. Very stressed. So stressed that I starting saying things like this, "we need a new church this is over kill". "Why are Mormon women expected to do so much". "I know someone who has to get her six kids in costumes, has more responsibilities than I do for the festival, who has a husband out of town on business, and has to be to the festival an hour early to set up". "What, so I am supposed to do all of this and find time to go to the gym?". "I'm just saying it would be alot easier to deal with all of this if I could have some sort of drink first".

Lucky for me my mother in law is in town and was there to do whatever I needed. She didn't even mind my cranky pants attitude. Well, she minded but she didn't say boo about it.

When I got to the Fall Festival there were no lights on the field and no electricity in the outlets. Great. Our three crockpots made the treacherous journey over our back yard fence to be here were now getting cold on the park bench. That is where I snapped and simply said "dammit". Brother Lake's eyes widened when I said that. Then he offered to call his wife who saved us with extension cords and power strips. His son offered to find the switch for the electricity. And after a cell phone conversation with the mom with six kids and an out of town husband, I learned that if I walked over to the other field where another ward was, I could find a "LaDawn" and she would know how to get the overhead field lights on. I did. She did. Let there be light.

But for next year I decided something. I am going to buy my costumes and make them easier. And I am not going to get so worked up about the holiday that I yell at my little ones when they want to run around the house with a dozen balloons. Did I mention that I yelled at my little one when he saw the dozen balloons meant for his costume and started running around with them. Yes, I did that.

I finc FINCA is great

2010-10-17T10:37:00.000-07:00

Queen Rania of Jordan

What is FINCA? It's a "poverty vaccine".

My sister and her partner Kris went to Jordan a few years ago and met Queen Rania to talk about FINCA. I was watching the Today Show the other morning and Queen Rania was on. It made me think about my sister and Kris and how they've been to Jordan and met a Queen. Shortly after that I got an email from my sister that there is a 45-day challenge to raise money for FINCA.

I asked Kris if she had anything I could put on my blog about FINCA. Did she ever! Below is a link to her post detailing part of her trip to Jordan with photos. Please take a minute to read it here. Then if you've got the $$ donate to FINCA!

There's a Reason All of My Jeans Were Popular Five Years Ago

2010-10-12T11:30:00.000-07:00

I am starting the last phase of the HCG diet today. I lost 12 pounds on this diet and wanted to share my "lessons learned".

First, don't start a diet the week before your birthday. Birthdays are food. Birthdays are lunch dates and cakes and dinner dates and food. Birthdays are candy and treats and ice cream and food. Don't diet on your birthday. I did and it was terrible.

Secondly, tilapia sprinkled with cajun spices and baked at 430 for about ten minutes makes a great meal.

Third, chicken tenderloins sprinkled with Mediterranean spices and baked, then diced and transformed into chicken wraps (with Boston lettuce) makes an even better meal. This is especially true if you have pico de gallo on hand.

Last, my body NEEDS energy. I haven't felt hungry in weeks due to the HCG drops but I have been very very tired. Climbing the stairs is a chore when you haven't had a bread/sugar in days/weeks. Climbing the stairs with a twenty pound baby on your hip when you haven't had a bread/sugar in days/ weeks is a slow process. I've seen molasses move faster.

There were moments when I stood up too fast and the room started to go dark on me. Not a good sign. There was a middle of the night Charlie horse in my leg, not a fun time. There are clothes in my closet that haven't fit me in years that a roomy now, very good time.

For the next three and a half weeks I have to avoid bread/sugar BUT I get to eat more than 500 calories a day so I am happy.

P.S. Yerba Mate Chocolate tea = heaven

Dear Hats, Thank You

2010-10-08T08:29:00.000-07:00

I like being a mom.

But can I have a life?

I mean I don't even know where my ipod is. I haven't seen it for three months.

I haven't finished a book in two months.

I am washing my hair twice a week.

Secrets:
I started throwing away my children's most annoying toys. Anything that my one-year old could fit entirely in her mouth, trashed. Toys with a million pieces, hidden.

Can We Talk About Jesus

2010-09-22T21:28:00.000-07:00

Reader,

Have I already told you that my son throws in "can we talk about Jesus" during his bedtime routine? Yes it usually precedes "mommy can you snuggle with me" and comes after "mommy can I have some water".

And what am I supposed to say. I obviously can't say no. Can you see me at the pearly gates begging to be let it when some sort of godly fact checker shows up with a video of me on GodTube telling my three-year old "no I can't talk to you about Jesus" (because it will mean missing the first few minutes of Jersey Shore).

None shall pass.

So I say yes. Yes of course we can talk about Jesus.

And every time one of us asks the following questions and the other one gives the following answers. It is funnier when he asks the questions so here they are in my son's vernacular:

Mommy can we talk about Jesus
Yes, we can.
Now, what was Jesuses Mom?
Mary
Now, what was Jesuses Dad?
God
Now, what did he die?
He died on the cross.

So this morning at 4 am after more water and a trip to the bathroom I hear "mommy can you snuggle with me".

At this hour I will snuggle with anyone, just let me close my eyes.

I am snuggling when I hear.

"Mommy, Jesus has a special special special Mommy Mary. And Jesus has a special special Dad, God."

And I laugh and hug and hope that this makes it to GodTube.

If You Give A Mouse A Cookie

2010-09-21T13:49:00.000-07:00

Today I took my two kids to the library. My youngest should have been too tired to go. Then again, she did refuse a nap. So we went. It was a(nother) mistake. I can't bore you with the details in story format so here they are bulleted.

- my youngest needed a nap
- the straps in the double stroller I brought did not want to fit around my oldest
- my oldest thrives on order and routine, he was bent out of shape when I did not strap him in.
- my oldest tried to get out of the stroller while I paid the overdue fine of eleven dollars.
- I suddenly found a way to make those straps fit
- while trying to check out eight items the machine froze
- while explaining to the lady at the counter about the frozen machine my oldest loudly asked "what is he crying about" in regard to another unhappy child
- while loading the children back into the car and folding up the doulble stroller the woman next to me in the parking lot let her child's balloon fly away.
- my oldest lost it
- I found out that I am really good at making up stories about runaway balloons and the birds, clouds and sun they talk to after the fly away from the library.

What've I Done To Deserve This

2010-09-09T23:13:00.000-07:00

In first grade I found a five dollar bill on the playground and turned it in to the lost and found.

Maybe that was it.

Today I celebrated being a mom to this little sweetheart for one year.

I tell everyone she is second only to baby Jesus. I aim to amuse (and shock) with that statement, but the truth is I really believe it.

Surviving Sacrament Meeting

2010-08-20T14:34:00.001-07:00

We were at church.

The speaker said something like "this isn't brain science".

I looked at the husband.

He was already looking at me waiting for it.

I mouthed "he said brain science".

The husband nodded. Then said, "I think he meant to say rocket surgery".

I laughed out loud at church.

This is why we work.

Family Tree

2010-08-20T11:38:00.000-07:00

Here are some photos of my long lost Miller family at the reunion. Meeting my great uncles Reid and Revell was a great opportunity. They told me stories of their brother, my grandfather (a man I never met) and my great grandfather.

My uncle Reid looked a lot like my Dad just before he died. Wow I just reread that and it sounds awful, so let me clarify, he looks like my dad did after my dad lost lots of weight.

I think seeing the resemblence (especially in the eyes) to my own father and to my self was worth a million bucks.

Potty Breaks

2010-08-18T22:17:00.000-07:00

I remember as a kid I would be so annoyed with my mom when she spent twenty minutes in the bathroom. I remember following her into her room to lay on her bed and wait for her to finish up so I could continue talking to her. I remember thinking that she took too long. It never occurred to me that she was trying to get away from me. Honestly, I thought that there was something wrong with her. Chronic constipation? Yes.

Oh, how precious are potty breaks for mothers. A minute alone without my son asking for anything. A minute without the responsibility of keeping my daughter from eating old Cheerios off our floor, or paper, or electric cords.

Mom, I am so so so so sorry. Lesson learned, I will lock the bedroom door to establish a perimeter. I think all moms know that kids will follow you to the door of the bathroom (and sometimes even inside) and wait. My son will stick his fingers under the door and ask me "what are you doing in there"? Or in his most annoying whine "Mommy you can't go potty".

Today I reminded my son to take a potty break himself. I neglected to shut the bathroom door behind him. I sat down to surf the web. That is when my daughter made her move. I heard my son say "oh Madeleine Jane" and laugh. He cannot be trusted to be nice to her when left alone so I got up off the couch to rescue her. Then I realized what I had done and ran. I was too late. She splashed and laughed, elbow deep in yellow water. What was that white thing stuck to her lip? Toilet paper. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr! I think I can honestly say, for once, I wish I had found her being kneed in the face by her brother. Not because she deserves to be hurt. It's just that knees are so much cleaner that toilet water.

Cha Cha Shoes

2010-08-02T08:41:00.000-07:00

We have a computer again! It was difficult to live without one. The worst part of not having a working computer is shopping for a new one without the internet.

Quick update and then I am off to buy eggs and maple syrup.

I reconnected with my Miller family after 24-years of silence. While doing so I discovered that they have tried to reconnect with us a few times over that 24-year period, but my Dad put the kibosh on those attempts. Now my silblings and I are going to a Miller Family reunion to meet everyone. I think Cliff is pushing us into this. I hope he is. If I don't get a new perspective on things like family relations after I die, I am asking for a do-over. If he isn't pushing me into this (from the other side), then I am going to have some 'splainin to do when I see him in heaven.

I have neuroma. It makes running painful. It makes walking painful. It makes carrying my sweet Madeleine Jane up the stairs painful. I am having it treated. I think I am going to avoid cha cha shoes for a while. If you wear a size 8 in shoes call me, I might have shoes for you. My feet need to stop trying to be a size 8 when really they are an 8W or 8WW. Pretending to be a size they are not whilst wearing 4 inch cha cha shoes resulted in a tumor of scar tissue.

Never let your feet or any part of you pretend to be something they are not.

Stay @ Home Mom Week Uno

2010-07-09T15:27:00.000-07:00

Last Thursday at 4 PM, my co-worker walked out of my kitchen where we trained for the day and shut the door on my life as a working mom.

I should probably look for something to do part time from home. Maybe I will, but not today.

Yesterday I took the kids to a public pool. One that has a lazy river and water slides and a jungle gym in the water for the little ones. It was fun. It was lots of fun. At one point whilst sitting on a chair I thought to myself I am never going back. I am never giving this up.

Those thoughts were interrupted by an announcement that the kiddie pool had to be cleared out of for the next 30 minutes. I watched as a scene from Caddyshack unfolded and the poor lifeguard had to scoop out kiddie poo and shake it into a plastic bag. I decided at that point that we were done swimming for the day.

So yes, I like being a stay at home mom.

Yes, it feels like I am just on vacation and will have to go back tomorrow.

Yes, The Son is still a monster, but things with The Son are getting easier. Very slowly. I was able to negotiate three bites of dinner last night in exchange for ice cream.

Yes, The Baby is perfect. I tell people she is "second only to baby Jesus". And I think heaven would agree with that statement.

And speaking of baby Jesus. I just called my son "The Son". I can't remember what I have been calling my children on this blog. I think he started out as The Toddler and she was The Peanut. First names are starting to sound like an easier option.

Oh, and I have been working on my tan. And decided to stop drying my clothes in a dryer since it is 200 degrees outside. The Husband installed a clothesline yesterday. I was actually disappointed when I realized I had nothing to wash and wouldn't be able to use it for a few more days.

Prince Charming is a ManUnited Fan

2010-06-15T09:30:00.000-07:00

Last night I had a dream that I made out with Matthew Bellamy. Isn't that awesome?!

He is the lead singer of Muse.

In April I saw him take a running start into a knee slide across the stage whilst playing the guitar and wearing skinny jeans the color of electric blue.

He had me then.

In real life I was happy to wake up next to my husband. And happy that I didn't actually engage in behavior that breaks one of the 10 commandments.

Can you blame my sub-conscience? I can't. Yesterday I read that he was seen hanging out with Kate Hudson. Then I drove home whilst listening to the Eclipse soundtrack. A great soundtrack that includes a Muse song (but not a great one). Finally I spent the evening mad at my husband for loving sports more than he loves me.

I would never make out with Matthew Bellamy. And not because he actually does sort of look like a mouse. Mice are cute. Its because he comes from a country obsessed with soccer. Why would I ever trade the devil I know for the rat-faced devil I don't know? Especially knowing that the un-known devil probably likes soccer too.

I will stick to the devil I know. He looks like a young James Garner.

Something Needs to Click

2010-06-13T14:48:00.001-07:00

Lost 3 pounds in my first week of biggest loser and in 3 days, I gained it all back.

Hey a lot of things can happen in three days, resurrection for example.

I need things to click.

I need Jillian to come to my house and put me on TV for the crying and the weight loss.

I hate to admit that my mother in law was right about anything, but I think she was right when she told me I was an emotional eater. Now I understand why that comment drove me to Chick Fil A. Kidding. Sort of.

I feel defeated.

It seems like if I can't do it now, it will never happen.

I am putting one of those ticker thingies on my blog to track my progess, tickers click right? I know they tick.

And even though I am expecting to have a 0% weight loss for week 2 and possibly a weight gain, I am going to keep trying.

If you see me at work buying a regular soda, take it from me.

Before Samantha There Was Blanche

2010-06-03T20:38:00.000-07:00

I may or may not be the owner of a book titled "What Your Mother Never Told You About S-E-X".

My mother didn't tell me much. Thank goodness, can you imagine how uncomfortable that conversation would be? When I was a teenager my mom didn't say much about S-E-X. However, last November she got remarried at the age of shnixty-shnumpthing and now she won't SHUT UP ABOUT IT!

But do you know who did teach me a thing or two about sex? Blanche Devereaux.

I remember an episode when someone didn't shave their legs for a date or some other event and Blanche said something to the effect of "I've shaved from the bottom of my ankle to my waist since i was sixteen" (or-shnumpthing). I remember as a kid thinking why would you shave up to your waist?

But then a few years later, that line of dialogue required no further explanation.

TMI? Sorry. But this blog was getting kind of dull, even I was ready to unsubscribe.

I think I will go upstairs now and find out what my son is watching on TV.

Life Before Facebook

2010-06-02T21:00:00.000-07:00

After watching several episodes of "Who Do You Think You Are" I began looking into my own ancestry.

I never had a chance to meet my father's father. My father never met him either. My paternal grandfather died seven months prior to my own father's birth. His first name was Golden. The train he was on slipped and two coaches collided.

Something I thought was crazy, the name of the man operating the train was Clifford. My grandmother then went on to name my father Clifford. Really? There weren't any other names? You're going to name your son the same name as the dude semi-responsible for killing your husband and baby's father? Nomenclature fail Grandma!

One thing I must mention is that when trying to find articles about my Grandfather's accident I discovered that there was a famous race horse who had the same name as my Grandfather. The man and the horse are both named Golden Miller. I think there is now a bus line in England named Golden Miller.

But anyway whilst perusing the 1943 newspapers for an obituary or article I found the following.

If you can click on the image to read it, you should so you can see what I mean about "life before facebook". Basically if you had anything going on in your life it was newsworthy.

Okay I don't think you can click on it, blast, it took a long time to convert it from .pdf to .jpg to make this image internet ready. So let me type out examples of what it says:

Mr. James Rampton has returned from a visit with relatives in Portland.
Norman Wright, son if Mr. and Mrs. Jesse Wright, suffered a bad cut on one of his fingers... (if the people of '43 were able to put this news on Facebook, would it have been terribly inappropriate to give it a "thumbs up"?)

So here is what I can tell you about Davis County Utah in 1943. People are being killed in train crashes. Women are called Mrs. Husband's Name and evidently Babynamebook had also not been invented yet.

Thanks for reading - go find out who you are and where you came from.

Biggest Loser Update***

It is hard and there is a part of my brain that wants me to fail.
The cafeteria at work sells lemon bars for 80 cents. I didn't buy one, but it was tempting.
I jogged yesterday in 98 degree heat
I climbed 40 flights of stairs today AND took the kids out for a power walk.
I need to drink more water
I need to workout without two young children
I don't need a lemon bar

Biggest Loser - Online

2010-05-31T10:59:00.000-07:00

I'm starting a virtual Biggest Loser competition online tomorrow.

I am eating anything and everything I want to today. Including all the sugar I can handle.

My plan for tomorrow.

Water
Salads
40-story stair climb
no mas azucar
power 90 with The Husband

My reward

possibly winning the cash prize
getting skinny
learning how to control my eating habits
learning how to work out daily

www.projectlookgoodnaked.blogspot.com

Someone Needs to Take Oprah's Pledge

2010-05-29T11:18:00.000-07:00

I want to be tougher.

We were driving and this Jackcuss on a cell phone was weaving in an out of traffic and cutting off old ladies. We called him a Jackcuss because it was a red light so what's the rush. About a mile later we became the old lady.

And The Husband couldn't let the Jackcuss go without first making it clear that we were less than thrilled with his erratic driving. So we "paced" him. And The Husband looked at him and said some unkind things. Jackcuss then got in front of us and slammed on his breaks.

Cuss!

And at the red light Jackcuss (while still on the phone) got out of his car and asked The Husband if he had something to say.

And if I could replay that evening I would have jumped out of the car and let him hear what I had to say.

Something like "Hey Jackcuss you nearly killed me and my kids. It doesn't seem like you are able to drive and talk on your cell phone all at the same time so let me see your phone for a minute." Then I would have stomped on his phone or thrown it into oncoming traffic.

I think then I would have found some unkind things to say about his mother and possibly about his masculinity.

And I think I would have cussed.

But I didn't because I am not tough. I wish I were. Seriously how awesome would it have been if I had been able to pull that off and without getting hit in the face?! Probably one of the top moments of my life.

I Quit, I Quit, I Quit Mr. White

2010-05-25T06:47:00.000-07:00

I hate the show Imagination Movers, and you should too.

Due to problems I am not suppose to discuss with systems I am not to name I didn't leave my undisclosed office location until 12:15 AM last night.

When my son woke up the first thing he said was "oh mommy you are back from work".

Guilt.

I think now might be a good time to share my happy news. My last day as a work @ work mom is June 30th. There is no correlation between my last day and the opening day for Twilight:Eclipse. It is just another sign that I am made the right choice for me at the right time.

Understand that I have to get all of my work @ work mom complaints out on the web while I still can.

Here's one: I have trouble staying on top of my house work and meal planning. The trouble stems from my general laziness, the size of my house, my available time, the husband's penchant for televised sporting events, the husband's commitment to keeping the yard nice (because he can't hold the baby and use the weed whacker).

So on Sunday when both the children were napping I said "what are you doing both of our kids are asleep, help me clean".

And he did.

And while I was organizing the pantry I found three bags of pinto beans and decided I would try for the first time ever to make beans. They are pretty simple right, the only trick is to soak them overnight.

So when I woke up this morning after my crazy night at my top secret job and saw a disgusting container of beans that have been soaking for more than 48 hours I sighed and thought, 5 more weeks.

Does it amuse you, Reader, to know that while typing this post the stupid cooked cereal I bought from Sprouts has overcooked on the stove.

I thought that smell was the beans.

Sigh. Evidently I can be just as scatter brained when I am not working at work.

Shame Spiral becomes Bona Fide

2010-05-10T07:45:00.000-07:00

Oye, yesterday I gave the lesson in Church.

I don't even raise my hand in Church.

It was a train wreck with lots of hysterical sobbing.

I want to die.

Really.

Every twenty minutes I will smack myself in the head and say "why why why"!

or

Exclaim "Jared uggggh" for no reason

or shudder

It was a disaster.

I told my husband driving away from church, " I feel so terrible that if there were away for me to get high just to change the way I feel I would do it". He laughed. I groaned.

I asked him to "fight with me" or "say something really mean just so I can fret about something else and forget the train wreck". He laughed. I smacked myself in the head.

I told him I don't think I should go back for a while. Can I just sit a few weeks out until everyone forgets me? Oh, can we move?!

In happier news, I did some genealogy this morning.

Guess who is the grand daughter (great, great, great, great) of Isaac Morley?

Me.

It goes a little something like this:

Isaac Morley

his son Isaac Morley

his daughter Alzada Morley

her daughter Iris Elizabeth Golden

her son Golden Lamonte Miller

my dad Clifford Miller

ME!

As the grand daughter of a man who at one point had Joseph Smith and his family living on the Morley farm, I guess I will go back to church. Where I can hold my head up high thinking "train wreck or not my grandfather wanted me to be here".

McScabies

2010-04-14T19:38:00.000-07:00

If you have to choose between getting on the 61E at Southern & Central or waiting for your husband who is at 24th & the ten, you should probably get on the bus. Especially if there is a talkative crazy homeless man also waiting at the bus stop. Oh and especially if some knowing bus driver discreetly gestures that you should just board his bus and then shifts his eyes to the homeless man and then back to you.

The fact that I didn't choose option C, which was to wait inside the McDonalds right behind the bus stop might imply that I am some sort of die hard BK fan or that I hate McDonalds. But nope, I am not loyal to the former or disgusted by the latter. I am just a bit stupid.

p.s. do you know people who claim to hate McDonalds? I am married to one. Why? Why hate McDonalds? Why hate Wal-Mart? I'll never understand.

So who would like to hear my conversation with the crazy homeless man?

The conversation started off with him literally patting the empty spot on the bench next to him.

I sat down. Because who can resist such an invitation? I am too fond of sitting to resist.

He complimented me on my wedding ring.

I mentioned that the city should empty the trash can near the bus stop because it stank. He agreed.

I realized in a few moments that it wasn't the trash can that stank. And it wasn't McDonalds for all you haters who are reading this.

Eventually my man asked me if I had any change. I did in fact. I had 51 cents. The penny was pretty important to the rest of our visit. My man told me that the racist Iraqi shop keep who runs the liquor store on the other side of the intersection won't take anymore pennies from him. My man later confessed that he wasn't entirely sure of the shopkeeper's country of origin and he settled on Southeast Asia as a more general location. Our picky shopkeeper also asked My Man to stop using the door and that if he wanted to buy something he should walk up to the drive through window.

Speaking of drive through window - appropriate for McDonalds, NOT appropriate for liquor sales.

Then things got interesting. At this point in the conversation My Man has given me a friendly fist to my shoulder about 12 times. Well every time I stopped making eye contact he gave my shoulder a little tap to remind me we were still talking.

And talk we did. About how some crazy Indian (of the Southeast Asian vicinity) came in to the liquor store with fingernails so long they curled under. My Man asked me how that Indian "scratched his ass". I confessed I did not know.

Then I stared across the street as I contemplated how that "crazy Indian" did anything with curly nails. But a quick shoulder bump brought me back to My Man.

We talked about the scars left on My Man from serving in Vietnam. And then we talked about my body. Well my feet to be specific. My man said "you've got beautiful feet" then he decided to rub his thumb across my big painted toe nail.

I told him in my opinion everyone has ugly feet. Then we both laughed at the thought of the toenails of that "crazy Indian".

Then my ride came.

p.s. I had intended to take this alternate bus because my son was sick and my regular commuter bus wouldn't arrive for 6 hours. But as the bus approached my husband returned my calls/text to say he was close by.

More Please

2010-04-06T19:45:00.000-07:00

I need some good recommendations for music, books and film.

This is where you come in.

Boosters

2010-03-10T19:51:00.000-08:00

I took the day off because my sitter needed the day off and I was happy for the excuse to miss work. I made an appointment for The Peanut to get her 4-month immunizations today. She became 6 months old on Tuesday, but my procrastination of her acupuncture is not the point.

I held her in my arms while I tried to restrain my son who is 3 from opening the trash can marked Bio hazard. She fell asleep. I can't blame her she was 30 minutes past due for her morning nap when we arrived at the doctor's office and 90 min past due for it when she fell asleep. After just a few minutes in my arms she was shocked out of sleep by the poke of the first needle. Then the second, third, fourth and fifth.

As you probably imagine my small little family was the portrait of an unhappy tantrum as we checked out at the front desk. Not because my 6-month old, extremely tired baby had just been tortured. No no, she smiled and batted her eyes at the receptionist. We were the portrait of an unhappy tantrum because my Son's loafer style shoe slipped off.

Speaking of hypodermic needles, I'm lowering my dose of approval, read on:

I've decided after much self absorbed thought that I too concerned with acquiring the approval of others. If I say "its like a drug to me", will everyone who hates Twilight hate me? Because I really need you to like me. Oh, wait I am trying to wean myself from those sort of thoughts and comments, huh. But I can't help myself and so, ladies of my book club, consider this apology letter my last hit. After this I will be forced to stop appraising every action and comment to determine an approval rating. Meaning I might still suck, but I can't apologize for it. The basic idea is I have to be me and if you don't like it, I have to allow you the right to not approve of me. I then learn to live without your approval. Once I become comfortable with that idea, I relax, let someone else speak and inevitably suck less. It's a three step process you can read about it here.

Dear Ladies of the Book Club,

I am sorry for interrupting you when you speak. I am sorry for laughing too loud. I'm sorry for making comments that take the conversation off track. I am sorry for ALWAYS trying to steer the conversation to be about my life.

Examples
R: My daughter is really fair skinned and (interruption by S)
S: She IS, she looks like Evan

J:I don't remember doing things with my mom, outside of Sunday dinner (interruption by S)
S: You're making me want to quit my job.

K: I've never had Fufu Berry is it good
S: Yes, consider me your encyclopedia of soda

I am sorry for saying "Brown is the new Black" . I was just trying to be clever with an analogy of cocktail dresses and races. I spend much more time thinking about the former and less time indignant for the latter, if we are being honest.

If I could just steer the conversation back to me one last time. In first grade when Miss Boileau was giving out awards like "Best Smile", "Best Reader", I got "Most Anxious To Please Others". So its a life long addiction and it might take a few more book reviews before I've worked it out of my system.

Your ever,

Sarah

Hit and Run

2010-03-08T18:05:00.000-08:00

Dear 377 VZE, Tan Suburban, light brown hair 55 year old woman,

I saw you hit the little red car and drive away.

I was standing right next to you waiting for the crosswalk signal to change.

I had just alighted the 531 Express.

I heard the screech of tires then the crash of metal.

I even saw the little lady in the red car get spooked and say "dammit". Though I didn't hear her say it because she was in her car.

Then she turned east and you drove north like nothing happened.

But something did happen and I saw everything. And I walked over to little red car and gave her your plate number.

Better luck next time,

Sarah

P.S. I think to leave the scene of an accident is considered a felony.

P.S.S. I wasn't the only one who saw you.

Ouch

2010-03-03T20:13:00.000-08:00

On Monday I vowed to start doing the stairs again at my place of employment.

My place of employment is 40 stories high.

I never work out.

I did the stairs, all the way down and all the way up.

Did I mention 40 stories?

Fast forward to Wednesday morning at 5:00 AM. My alarm sounds. I jump out of bed to turn it off. I try to walk. Pain, agony, ouch. I can't walk very well. With the alarm still sounding I wonder if The Husband will think I am crazy if I wake him up to ask him to turn off my alarm. How can I ask for that when I am standing? I can't. I turn around to head back to bed, but I still can't walk.

I realize I am being silly and hobble over to the table with the alarm.

Silence.

Pain.

This is why I don't exercise.

Who would win in a fight against Hummus and Texas Caviar?

2010-03-02T19:11:00.000-08:00

SARAH, a short 29-year old woman with glasses loads all of her items on the conveyor belt at Costco. She approaches the credit card swipey thing and begins to enter the required information. A YOUNG MAN loads her items into her cart. THE CASHIER continues scanning each item. The Young Man picks up a container of Texas Caviar and holds it in front of his face.

YOUNG MAN

What is this stuff.
.

SARAH

Texas Caviar
.

THE CASHIER

Its really good. Its good for you too better than hummus
.

SARAH

Its kind of like salsa. You eat it on chips.
.

THE CASHIER

Yeah you eat it on these.
.

The Cashier holds up a bag of Pita Chips for the young man to see.
.

SARAH

It's yummy.
.

THE CASHIER

Its like dip only it much better for you than dip.

Like hummus but better for you.
.

SARAH

Which I (beat) also have in my cart
.

Sarah nods her head in the direction of the hummus.
.

THE CASHIER

Oh (beat), well you're pregnant you probably want to eat

everything.

END SCENE

XX Power

2010-02-24T19:50:00.001-08:00

Lately I've been obsessed with thoughts of girl power.

I finished reading The Lovely Bones and now I'm reading The Help, and hearing all these stories, have triggered some sort of righteous indignation. Somebody stop me before I change The Peanut's name to Seneca.

I just want all my girls to know that you are capable, accomplished, strong, intelligent, persistent.

If you are a female and you are reading this, chances are I am thinking of YOU specifically.

If there are people in your life that make you doubt what I am saying, they are wrong. You should consider removing them from your life. If there are thoughts in your head that make you doubt what I am saying, they are also wrong, you should STOP thinking those thoughts.

Finally ladies, we need a stronger sisterhood. Everyone talks about brotherhood, what about sisterhood?

Can I declare tomorrow Sisterhood Day? Here is what I'm thinking, tomorrow I'm going to treat all my sistas with more RESPECT. All of them. Every female on the planet. Basically if you have two copies of the X chromosome, you're in.

Living the Dream

2010-02-20T06:53:00.000-08:00

Today I leave town to celebrate seven years of marriage with The Husband.

When I was newly married to The Husband, his maternal grandmother said something to me that I will never forget. Mind of I tell you the story of what grandmother said?

So I'm sitting on one of the over sized chairs in Kona's front room. Probably trying to count all the seashells in this room alone and getting dizzy by how many seashells there are in this room alone. I'm having a conversation with The Husband's grandmother, who, by the way, I LOVE SO MUCH. We are getting to know each other, she is asking me questions and then saying "oh yahhhhhhhhh" almost the second I begin to answer. I am deciding that taboo of speaking ill of dead ancestors be damned, I love this woman more than my own grandmothers. Then she hits me with this and the record player playing "Happy Days Are Hear Again" comes screeching to a stop.

She said, "Marrying Jared was like a dream come true for you, wasn't it"

And what can I say? Her real intentions or message or meaning, be damned I am offended.

What? What? Has she too seen the huge gap in the scale of attractiveness between The Husband and I? I thought that everyone was going to ignore that. To date everyone but Grandmother has.

So I do what anyone with any hint of affability does, I eagerly agree with her.

I spent the next seven years reminding The Husband that marrying him was like a dream come true for me.

Sometimes I remind him while we are quietly watching TV. In that case I use a teasing tone and precede the remark by "remember when your grandmother said that __________"

Sometimes I say it when I come home from work and there is a sink full of dishes and The Husband is upstairs playing video games. In that case I would have either muttered it under my breath or shouted from the bottom of the stairs, "just so you know marrying you was like a dream come true for me".

Sometimes I say it when I look at The Toddler or The Peanut and I realize that I have these two wonderful children and my heart will actually stop beating if I ever lose them and my eyes are watering with tears that represent the love that has overfilled my heart to the point of explosion.

Sometimes I think it when The Husband is asleep and I see his beautiful unshaven face. In that case I am smiling and I am happy.

And so I've decided if I ever get an awesome deathbed scene in my last act of life that I'm going to have The Husband put his big wrinkled old man ear close to my wrinkled, gray, and at that point hairy mouth, so I can say in my shaky old lady voice "before I die I just want you to know marrying you was like a dream come true for me".

Sister Mommy

2010-02-07T20:27:00.001-08:00

Today at church I sub'd as teacher for my son's class. The class consists of three 3-year old boys. It was crazy bananas.

At one point during sharing time with all of the other classes I looked over and realized one of the boys got into my handbag and removed a piece of paper that I stuffed in my bag on Wednesday. The paper was a copy of the lottery tickets that were purchased for my office pool. To make my hypocrisy more apparent I unfolded the paper in the middle of sharing time to see what it was. I really do think that God watches us like a sitcom and I know he was laughing at today's episode.

I don't play very often. I usually enter the office pool when the p-ball goes over 100 million.

I also watch rated R movies if Colin Firth is in them.

I'm not perfect.

Secondly, one of the boys in class said "No soup for you" over and over again.

Thirdly, my son called me Sister Mommy during class, but just Mommy when we got home. He is cute.

Don't judge.

2010-01-21T19:47:00.000-08:00

We are at a stage with our three year old son where we don't want to be mean because we want him to know he is loved, but we are worried he is starting to become a brat.

And worst of all we yell "Evan stop whining" several times a day.

It doesn't work. His whine just turns into a cry at that point.

Any ideas on how to keep his bad behavior in check without being a jerk?

Henry James

2010-01-08T16:31:00.000-08:00

Dear Henry James,

After finishing last month's book club pick I decided to read The Portrait of a Lady. I started on the bus home today and thought for several pages that I'd made a terrible mistake. Who spends that long describing the way the sun shines on a house? But then I read this bit "(his face) furnished, but by no means decorated, with a straggling moustache", and decided I love you.

We'll see.

Yours,

Sarah

Lagging Green Errors

2010-01-05T16:29:00.000-08:00

Waiting at light.

Waiting to turn left.

Light is yellow.

Cars are coming.

Coming. Coming.

Light turns red.

Grumble. Decide I am sticking out a bit and since no one is behind me I will reverse just to be safe.

Reversing. Realise I have a green arrow.

Hit gas. Still in reverse.

Slam on brakes.

Put in drive.

Green arrow has changed into a red light. A real one this time.

Avoid eye contact with everyone at intersection as I complete my left turn.

Sickie

2010-01-04T17:59:00.000-08:00

The Peanut is sick. She is sicky sick.

Her eyes are red.

She still smiles every time I say hello to her.

She coughs so hard that it is painful. She cries in her sleep and it sounds like she is saying "oh I am miserable".

And still she isn't even close to being a fussy as her brother was on a normal healthy day during his stint as a 4 month old.

In fact she isn't fussy at all. I think she is too sick to be fussy.

LOL

2010-01-03T20:29:00.000-08:00

So I'm watching Talledega Nights with The Husband when he asked me the following:

The Husband: Did you see who that was?
Me: Yeah the guy from The Italian Job.
The Husband: And Elvis Costello
Me: No way.
The Husband: Yep the Elvis Costello is the guy in the red hat and Mos Def is the guy in the (beat) black skin.

The Husband is funny don't you think?

I Resolve

2010-01-02T15:32:00.000-08:00

to never EVER attempt to buy clothes for The Husband.

Paper Heart

2009-12-29T15:25:00.000-08:00

I watched Paper Heart last night with The Husband and thought it was very cute. I noticed that throughout the majority of the movie I was smiling. It put me in a mood to post a scene from my own life's love story. Would it be ok if I told mine?

It started like this The Husband's younger brother left on a mission while I was in England with Jada.

I missed everything. The talk in church. Food at the house on Robin Lane. The send off. I knew that The Husband was close to his younger brother, so when I got back to the states I called The Husband to see how he fared. Here is a bit of the dialogue.

The Husband: So is this your cell phone?
Me: Yes.
The Husband: Great, I have your number now.
Me: Ya
The Husband: Now I can call you.
Me: Sure

And he did. A few days later while I was running. I missed the call and when I dailed in to check my voice mail I heard something to the effect of this.

"So there is this guy in the car next to me with the worst mullet I've ever seen. Singing as loud as he can to some stupid Bon Jovi song with his windows down. Unbelievable"

He thought I would know it was him I suppose, but I didn't. I had to listen to the message several times to figure it out.

At least I can wear jeans

2009-12-22T21:46:00.000-08:00

On the third day of Christmas, I went back to work.

I'll miss The Peanut and her naughty brother. Is it too smug of me to think that the person who gets to care for her while I am at work is lucky, or rather that anybody who gets to hold her all day long is the luckiest person on the planet? Too much?

Watch this.

From the land where palm trees grow

2009-12-18T15:46:00.000-08:00

My son says "kelly-kel - lee -key- me-key-maka".

It's Hawaii's way to say Merry Christmas to you.

I've got nothing to say but it's ok.

2009-12-10T13:09:00.000-08:00

Dear Blog,

I have nothing to say to you. If I have a few minutes to myself I am using them to take a shower or do my hair. I haven't had a clever thought in months. The funniest thing that happened to me lately was yesterday when my 3-year old son said the following:

"W you think you're so great".

I know Blog, it wasn't his original thought. I know he is quoting a bit from They Might Be Giants Here Come The ABCs. Yes that makes me wonder if he watches too much TV.

Two days ago the 3-year old swore. He did it with a German accent too. He did it in front of Grandma. The other Grandma, the one that gave birth to The Husband. Is that a funny story, Blog? Would that make you happy? I'd be exposing my horrible parenting to all three of my readers.

Or what if I wrote about my funny Mother-in-Law? What if I detailed how she makes me do pilates now? Pilates hurt. Or should I say pilates hurts, with an 's'? Hmmm.

As you can see Blog, I've nothing to write about. I'm sorry.

New Moon

2009-11-24T21:27:00.000-08:00

The word of the day is Vampire, and one definition I found on Merriam-Webster.com is as follows:

A woman who exploits and ruins her lover

I can't believe that New Moon has been out since Friday and I have yet to declare my love for it specifically and my love for emotional pornography generally.

I loved New Moon the movie. It was so much better than Twilight. It must be that the director, Chris Weitz, is very good at his job because the cast didn't change.

My best friend's cousin Aaron Toronto is the only person I've met to describe the love stories that are so attractive to females as "emotional pornography". I think he is right and I've been using the phrase ever since in an attempt to make people think I am clever.

What is it? Well it doesn't have anything to do with naked people so get clear those thoughts from your mind right now. Shame on you.

I think the pornography part of "emotional pornography" relates to how emotional pornography can be damaging to relationship just as real porn is certain to be. Destructive, in that no real male can live up to the standard portrayed by the male characters in chick films & books. When a female becomes obsessed with emotional pornography she may find herself disappointed when her real love doesn't behave like the love interest in said films/books. Or in the case of the Twilight saga both book & film.

Edward Cullen is the perfect example. He is handsome. He is rich (very rich). He is smart. He is mysterious. He wants to spend his time with Bella. He wants to give her gifts. He wants to wait to (ahem) seal the deal until after they are married. It is possible for a real man to be all of those things. Edward Cullen only becomes unrealistic when on top of all that he desperately wants to know what Bella is thinking. That last item is what separates the real men from the made up vampire boys. Real men don't desperately want to know what their gal is thinking about. Unless she is thinking about spending too much money, or starting a crafty project that will scatter a mess through the entire house and cost too much money.

I feel like a traitor saying all of this. I could be wrong. Perhaps Aaron Toronto knows nothing about us females. I still think that real porn is damaging, while emotional pornography is mostly harmless. This post is, after all, my declaration of my love for emotional pornography. I love it! There was one semester in college when I watched the movie Sense and Sensibility every day on my lunch break. The frequent exposure to such love stories created an illusion that once I did find Mr. Right, the rest of my life would be nothing short of a faerie tale. Enter The Husband, my first and only boyfriend at the age of 22, and begin the process of dismantling my illusion with a life that is nothing short of a sitcom. I don't blame The Husband. I blame Jane Austen.

I had to stop writing this post for a bit because The Husband needed to use the computer to look up something called "A Gnome Named Gnorm". He may not sparkle in the sunlight, but The Husband does have a super power when it comes to making me laugh.

I think the reason why stories like Twilight are so popular is that the persuade the young ladies to hope that love will be magical while reminding the not so young ladies of long forgotten faerie tales. So what do I with my daughter? Expose her to Pride and Prejudice or Everybody Loves Raymond? Probably both.

Josh Likes Christmas...a lot.

2009-11-16T21:22:00.000-08:00

My brother Josh just ended an e-mail with the following question:

"p.s Is anyone cheating and listing to Christmas music already?!!!!!!!!"

To Mother At Home or...

2009-11-16T10:20:00.000-08:00

From the office?

That is the question.

I let you know when I've got the answer.

275

2009-11-12T20:51:00.000-08:00

There are 275 pictures of Emily on Facebook.

8 of the 9 Facebook photos of me were put there by Emily.

When I saw that there were 275 pictures of Emily on Facebook I started laughing out loud. I made The Husband (Emily's brother) look away from the baseball news displayed on TV so I had his full attention when I announced to him that THERE ARE 275 PICTURES OF EMILY ON FACEBOOK.

He didn't care.

So what do I do? I start looking at all 275. Then I realize Emily is...

very happy

married to her Mr. Darcy (though he is much funnier than Darcy)

beautiful

very pregnant

very happy to be pregnant

stylish

cute

unique

clever

funny

I love her. And I sent her this one...

My Boy

2009-11-03T20:18:00.000-08:00

My son, known in these parts as The Toddler, is becoming a big kid. He stopped taking naps. He stopped letting his father do anything for him. He prefers me. He continues to fight us at meal times. He loves his little sister. He sings "Hush little Maddie don't you cry" on repeat when she screams in the car. He laughs at every single face she makes. He announces "he is happy now" (he means she, but pro-nouns are tricky) when his sister stops crying. He has nearly every lyric to the latest Fleet Foxes album committed to memory and sings proudly. He has been driving me crazy for weeks. He threw his cup of yogurt on the carpet this morning while I was nursing The Peanut and after I said "drink that in the kitchen". I screamed "dammit Evan" and broke his heart. He will be 3 years old before the end of the week. He will get bigger. He will stop preferring me. He will stop driving me crazy and begin driving. He will leave me (as he should), and break my heart. I will wonder why I didn't enjoy his last week of being two years old as much as I should have.

I snuggled next to him tonight and softly said, "we had a bad day today, tomorrow we need to work on eating, tomorrow we need to remember to be soft to sister, tomorrow we need to listen to mommy, we need to give hugs to daddy (right now)".

Tomorrow I need to remember not to scream anything at my son especially ugly swear words like dammit. Tomorrow I need to play with my very bored two year old. Tomorrow I need to chill. Tomorrow I need to remember my two year old is tick tocks away from the end of toddler hood.

I also need to remember that we are out of bread.

OCD

2009-10-07T14:06:00.001-07:00

It is 4 AM and all through the house not a creature is stirring. Oh wait, I hear The Toddler on the monitor. He is awake. He is speaking. He (pause) is quoting a Thomas DVD at 4 in the morning.

It is 5 AM and The Peanut is stirring. Angel baby from heaven, she hasn't made a noise since 11 PM. I get her situated so she can nurse in my bed. Oh wait, I hear something. The Toddler is crying. But the monitor is off, I can't hear him well.

"Honey, go help The Toddler, he's crying. Why isn't the monitor on?"

"Because he's been talking about Thomas all night"

I slide out of bed and enter The Toddler's room.

"It's dark outside. It's time to be asleep", I say.

"Peter-Sam is sleeping", says The Toddler.

Its 2 PM and The Toddler has requested we watch a Thomas "DDD".

"No Son, we can watch anything else, but we aren't going to watch Thomas for the rest of the week. You're a bit obsessed."

Pictured above, Peter-Sam

This Blog Is Joke

2009-10-06T09:29:00.000-07:00

I haven't been inspired lately.

I don't have much say that is amusing or clever.

So instead I provide you with useless updates about my life.

Update Numero Uno - the scale has stopped moving back towards my pre-preg weight. In fact the scale stopped dead for about 9 days. Until this morning when the scale moved in the wrong direction, indicating that I am closer to my 40 week gestation weight. Time to get going and to stop eating on the couch for hours on end.

Update Numero Dos - I found The Toddler's Halloween costume yesterday at a resale store for eight bones. Awesome.

Update Numero Tres - I have figured out what the rest of the family will be this year. I am going to force The Husband to dress up as Edward.

The Peanut will be the fat controller. And I will be full of my own ideas and not apt to take advice.

You thought I meant a different Edward didn't you! Didn't you? Please no jokes about how I make a better fat controller than The Peanut.

P.S. Does anyone have a black top hat for a 14 in head?

CHURCH ON TV

2009-10-03T09:03:00.000-07:00

It is conference weekend. If you are Mormon, enjoy watching church in your jammies and eating. I didn't make it to the store so we haven't got any goodies to much on. What I can offer you though is perhaps the best conference game ever invented. Our friend Joe taught me this game more than a decade ago.

HOW TO PLAY: Listen to the conference speaker. Be the first to hit your sibling or anyone watching with you any time you hear a speaker pronounce measure, pleasure, treasure as "may-zhure", "play-zhure", and "tray-zhure".

(sigh) Utah Mormons.

Enjoy.

P.S. The Peanut's cord fell out today. She has an outie. I am worried because it seems the inner most part of her cord (the bit covered by skin because she has an outie) is still goopy and gross. Can this become infected? Can I give her a real bath in this condition? Have any of your moms or nurses ever dealt with cord care of outies?

Cabin Fever

2009-09-22T11:34:00.001-07:00

I need a routine - or else I will die.

Swans

2009-09-18T17:53:00.000-07:00

Please go online and listen to Camera Obscura's "Swans". You are already online so is it really asking too much of you to do me this small little favor?

Am I allowed to declare that I am SO HAPPY RIGHT NOW!!

I am sure the vicodin I took 30 min ago has nothing to do with my blissful state. Am I allowed to use this website as a forum to say that I am very very happy.

The Husband took The Toddler to Golda's for the last two days. This afforded me the opportunity to chill with The Peanut (FKA The Fetus) for two days. We watched chick flicks and worked on latching techniques. Oh and even more beneficial, we slept the days away.

The Peanut sleeps all day. We only get to see her dark blue eyes for about one hour the entire day. She sleeps so much I am a bit worried, but I've googled it and though it is a bit more than infants her age (her age? she's 12 days old for crying out loud) the Internet experts say no worries.

I love The Peanut.

In other news:

The stains on the carpet throughout my house are driving me crazy. We've decided not to do anything about them until The Toddler is potty trained. We decided that about five months ago.
This week I am forcing The Toddler to potty train. None of this would be happening if I had just been more committed to elimination communication.

From Tar Black to Forrest Green

2009-09-14T13:50:00.000-07:00

My life can be summarized in poop descriptions.

I am looking forward to the day when I can title my post "Seedy Mustard Yellow".

Until then please leave any and all boob-feeding advice in the comments.

33 Hours

2009-09-08T09:34:00.000-07:00

In about 32 hours I will be in surgery. :)

In about 24 hours I will be fasting for my surgery. :(

In about 2 hours The Husband will be home. :)

In about 33 hours I will get to hold my daughter. :)

In about 35 hours (when I am able to move my lower body again) I can point my toes downward without fear of a "Charlie Horse". :)

In about 33 hours I will not have heartburn. :)

In about 33 hours I will see if we were right in guessing that since the male child looks like me, the female child will look like The Husband.

OR

In about 33 hours I will be bragging that since both children look like me, I clearly have the dominant genes. Ha!

Actually this wouldn't be good news, my dominant genes include nearsightedness, diabetes, obesity, cancer, loud talking, crooked teeth, shortness, a really small metacarpal IV that creates the appearance of a missing knuckle, speed of light offense taking and row boat speed forgiveness. Yikes. Let's all cross our fingers (no matter how deformed) that she takes after The Husband.

Pictures will not be posted on the blog, but I've got most of your e-mail addresses.

Its The Final Countdown

2009-09-01T21:24:00.000-07:00

That's exactly what I meant when I titled this post.

Dudes, went to the Dr. today. Managed to keep all of my clothes on.

Dude said that The Fetus is most likely 7 to 7.5 lbs and he won't be surprised if she weighs in at 8 lbs next Wednesday when she makes her debut.

Good thing too because the Glizt dress I bought for her to wear as we ambulate around the maternity ward is really meant for a baby of 12 pounds.

Black Beauty

2009-08-31T22:29:00.000-07:00

Not to get all "Footprints" on you, but have you ever looked back and wondered what gets you through things? As I carry the fetus through these last 9 days of pregnancy I look over my shoulder and think I am the one being carried. Wait before I say any more, let me confess the "Footprints" wall hanging in the home I grew up in was Decoupaged (sp?) onto a wooden plaque and the wood had a scalloped edge all the way around. Yours?

So anyway - being carried is the best. Perhaps this sounds bizarre, but I have asked myself lately "why is it so easy lately not to get upset with my husband". I know. I know I sound like a bratty 'yatch. Hear me out, a year ago - that sink full of dishes would have resulted in a tearful or angry one sided conversation about how overwhelming it is to be a working mother.

But after a roll of the eyes and a quick thought of "doesn't he see the dishes"? Wait "doesn't he smell the dishes"? Oh right super-human pregnancy nose. I also can't help but think, "he saved us so much money fixing the AC in my car himself" and "he is clever".

Tonight I've walked by Black Beauty (our sink, currently full of dishes) multiple times hoping the contents would disappear. Meanwhile the Husband is killing himself trying to woo Quickbooks into submission so he can log all of his bitness expenses. Quickbooks - hmmmm what's quick about it I wonder? So I've decided that 9 days or not, tired or not, my turn or not I'd better go downstairs and hang out with my girl Black Beauty until she is empty and clean.

During the bus ride to work (or at least the 5 minutes I was awake for) I thought, "who is helping me be the kind of wife that doesn't lose it all the time"? I think the answer is The Husband. And so I say hurrah for The Husband.

I'd also like to mention my brother and his wife. Listen to the agreement they made. If Golda would learn to play Halo on the X-Box (so Jacob would have someone competitive to play with), he would read all of the Twilight books. A few weeks ago I was on the bus when I got the following text from Jacob (um spoiler alert I guess):
I hate Bella, why is she kissing Jacob?
Then after an hour or so I got this text:
Can you put the last book in the diaper bag tomorrow?
No word yet on how Golda fares with Halo.

Too many references to Twilight, I know. I'm sorry. Go kiss your significant other and tell them they rock even if you had to do the dishes tonight.

A funny Toddler & a firey fetus

2009-08-30T20:27:00.000-07:00

I will tell you who taught my son the alphabet. The music group They Might Be Giants taught my son the alphabet. They've got a DVD called They Might Be Giants, Here Come the ABCs. With catchy songs like "Flying V" (yes it is a type of guitar), and "Go, Go, Go, Go For G", and last but not least "E Eats Everything", it is hard not to be entertained. So yes when The Toddler pointed to the G on the tongue of his Baby Gap shoes I was delighted and thankful to the Giants for their DVD.

In a way I love that The Toddler has learned so much by watching TV. My husband and I laughed when we realized that my son's relationship to his shows is too sacred for him to share. For example when my husband quotes the expression "cinders and ashes" from Thomas and Friends, The Toddler has a tantrum for about 5 minutes because Thomas is HIS thing. No parents allowed.

Thomas and Friends also taught The Toddler what it means to be "very cross". One day I was reading to my son when found an illustration of a train with a "frowny face" (which is what I, in my American way would describe the emotion to my toddler) but before I could say "frowny face", The Toddler said, "Mavis is very cross".

Jaw dropping surprise was the look on my face upon hearing my two year old say "very cross". I questioned Golda and The Husband and uncovered the source of this new expression. Golda was also very helpful during the "freight cars" phase. Let's just say "freight car" sounds like something else when coming from a two year old. Something I swear I don't say around The Toddler, even in rush hour traffic.

But this weekend topped all. My son (thanks to Thomas) now says "Don't be so daft".

I have tried to explain to him that "daft" really isn't a nice thing to call someone. He loves it.

In Pregnancy News: I am being burned alive by heartburn. Perhaps the burning is a side effect of the fact that every day I get closer to delivery I LOVE this baby girl even more. Could it (my heart) actually be expanding in size to accommodate this love? Perhaps. Or maybe I am turning into a vampire. Or maybe giving birth to a fire breathing dragon. Perhaps. If so I hope this dragon likes pink.

Just to be clear on how much of a complainer I am - this heartburn is killing me I am in SOOO much discomfort.

Keep Your Pants On

2009-08-19T12:03:00.000-07:00

I am 21 days away from my scheduled C-section, and tempted, ever tempted to make it sooner. I scheduled my c-section for my actual due date. So before you go assuming that I having an elective C-section to avoid stretch marks, think again you natural hypno-hydro-super birther. In fact I've tried twice to convince my doctor to let my fetus attempt the um (clear throat) traditional exit strategy. He doesn't think it is a good idea. If history repeats itself an emergent C-Section will become necessary. At this point I am fine with the plan to take my fetus Caesar style.

It isn't a secret. In fact I think EVERY one of the staff members in the OBGYN office I patronize knows of my plan. Yesterday I went to my appointment and was asked to um (clear throat) undress from the waist down. Sorry for the visual. In fact I am a bit uncomfortable with the visual, so please imagine this instead, pink and red Gerber daisies. It is what I picture every time I am fighting the urge to puke. It works.

So there I am half modest half not, considering the life of the centaurs when my doctor enters the room and becomes immediately confused and says "You're undressed".

"yes, they told me I was being tested for.."

"You're a C-section, we don't need to test for that"

"Oh. Awesome. As if I wasn't awkward enough on my own."

The doctor chuckles. The nurse enters.

"She's a C-section". The nurse exits apologizing repeatedly.

The fetus is fine.

Consider yourself warned

2009-08-12T21:30:00.000-07:00

How do we feel about gmail sneaking into our e-mail looking for words that trigger certain advertisement results, then posting coordinating advertisements on the left side of the screen?

Torn a bit

My privacy invaded

But still its very clever

So the other day when the left side of the screen advertised see through bras I thought, "oh goodness, what could my friend possible have typed in this e-mail to solicit that solicitation"?

And it occurred to me today while riding the bus that rather than nest or rest or read, I should attempt to play with gmail and all its sneakery. (Sneakery, not a real word, but if it were it could involve sneakers, the shoes not the lame 90s movie, hmmm)

"My voice is my password verify"

And so, if I've got your e-mail address, consider yourself warned that I may send you a silly e-mail just to have you respond so I can see if my "hot" words resulted in the type of advertisement I hoped it would.

I am truly mad (like crazy not like angry).

Brandon Smith Is Funny

2009-08-03T18:36:00.000-07:00

You know Tassi. You don't? Oh.

Well for once I'm not blogging about Tassi. I am however going to applaud her husband Brandon for being clever.

He read Twilight. He was entertained. He was annoyed. He got creative. Now we can all be entertained.

Holy crap in the 45 seconds it took me to type this The Toddler threw a million things down the stairs. Grumble.

Enjoy.