Hearing Myself Think

Measuring The Right Things

2012-01-25T16:25:00.011-07:00

I made it 19 days of my 21 day cleanse. I know, so close, right? I don't feel bad about it though. 19 days was all I could handle. It got to a point where the stress it was adding felt to be outweighing the benefits. During the cleanse it consumes your thoughts. I'm not kidding. It got to a point for me that I couldn't hold onto the constant discipline as well as the stress I was going through in my normal life. All the joy had been sucked out my life. Did I feel good physically? I'll answer that with an emphatic yes. No aches, pains, I was sleeping well. No gas, no bloating. But mentally, I was exhausted. Something snapped. I had a bagel. And I felt calm.

TLee wanted me to post photos of myself, but I honestly don't feel like I look any different. Yes, I lost weight, but it didn't make me appear more toned. I don't think that a photo would reveal anything discernible.

I've carb-loaded more than I planned, and gained a bit back, but I anticipated that. I'm exercising. I'm ready to find balance in my diet.

As I sat pondering on this little journey, I realized the power that I let numbers have over me. Weight was the only measurable effect of the cleanse, and I clung to it. Since my teenage years, a step on the scale has had the power to completely change my mood, although the mirror reveals the same person before and after I do so. I realized that I let those numbers give me permission to hate or love myself. I realized that I'm holding myself to some standard established three kids and ten years ago.

I'm so tired of it.

Sorry, that's gross, but I wanted to prove to you how committed I am to taking back control. I want to be a person who honestly has no idea what she weighs. I want to be a person who cares about what her body can do, a person who looks in the mirror and thanks God for the gift. I want to be a person who doesn't punish her body for meeting every challenge it has faced.

I told my dear friend my plan to throw away my scale, told her I was tired of hating myself. Her response was so powerful it brought tears to my eyes. She told me things she admired about me, told me I was beautiful and then said, "Throw that stupid scale away, because it's measuring all the wrong things." The truth of that resonates so strongly with me, not only for my sake, but for the sake of all the women in my life. I've said things like this before, and I've temporarily put the scale away, but now I'm ready for an entire shift in the way I view myself. I AM beautiful. I'm a healthy person. I will continue to try my best to take care of my body.

And instead of measuring how much I weigh, I'll measure how much I love myself instead.

E is 3

2012-01-20T14:25:00.012-07:00

E's birthday was a mix of successes and failures. Fortunately, I think the successes trumped the failures, but I went to bed exasperated even still.

For breakfast she chose a waffle with peanut butter. I thought I'd make it special by adding purple sprinkles. This was a wrong move. She threw a fit until I made her a new one, sans sprinkles. Okay.

I tried to think of something fun we could do together and asked her if she wanted me to paint her fingernails. She screamed "NO!" and hit me in the face. Okay.

We had a laid back morning, watching some of her favorite shows, and then we went to the store where I let her pick out a gift. She chose a Minnie Mouse shopping cart. Which she loved until we got home, and then she insisted she wanted a Minnie Mouse doll. I told her "too bad."

At the grocery store I let her pick out balloons and a birthday cake (I enjoy making cakes, but there was no way I was going to subject myself to that kind of temptation). She, of course, picked out what I thought was the ugliest one. Whatever.

I decked out the house for a celebration.

While we waited for daddy and our friends, E insisted she wanted to drink pickle juice. Okay. Happy Birthday. I think my girls' blood is 2% brine.

E's dinner of choice was McDonald's happy meals. While everyone ate their grease-laden and delicious-smelling McDonald's I grumpily made myself a smoothie. I had thought that watching everyone eat wouldn't be a big deal. I've been doing it for nearly three weeks. It was though, and I was mad about it. Those french fries were calling out to me. Still, I was glad E was happy.

T and E's best friend, N.

I even tried to plan an activity so it felt like a real party. I was genuinely trying to think of something E would love, so I chose shaving cream pictures.

It was a hit. Except with E, who screamed and flailed like she thought the shaving cream was going to bite her and insisted she would rather go to bed than make her picture. Okay. She cuddled with Dad while everyone else made pictures, which cheered her up. I sighed. Do I even know this child?

E was very excited to blow out her candles. T accompanied us on the piano while we sang, but E would have nothing to do with eating the cake. Instead she blew out candles five or six more times and she was done with it. Okay. I cheated just a teensy bit and had one very small bite of cake.

E opened up her two presents...

... and then I pulled out the big guns. Glow in the dark wands. This was my moment of birthday magic. We turned on music and the kids had a blast. N shook her hips. E pretended to be a Jedi.

By the time it was all over I was feeling mentally weak. I just knew I couldn't resist that damn cake. Thankfully, my friend Al offered to see a movie with me. DH put the kids to bed and we went and saw "A Joyful Noise." It was just what I needed. Thank heavens for people who love me.

Now E is 3. She is communicating so much better than she did just a few months ago. With her I'm either sighing or laughing. Next step - Potty Training! She is totally capable of using the toilet when needed, she just doesn't give a crap. (He he)

I love my little spitfire. She's marching to her own beat, which I think will really take her places. I just hope she doesn't trample me in the process.

Breakfast of Champions

2012-01-17T09:45:00.010-07:00

kale/carrot/apple/lemon juice

Today is day 16 of my 21 day cleanse. I've been a little surprised at the interest people have shown in it, so you will perhaps indulge my elaboration on the experience?

The point of the cleanse is to restore your body's natural ability to heal itself. Our environment and our food sources provide toxins that irritate us and build up in our systems, which can lead to a host of negative symptoms. Our bodies are made to fight and eliminate such foreign bodies, but we often make it difficult for them to do so. Our intestines are where these mighty battles take place, but with average American eating habits, our guts are so busy digesting (and consuming more toxins) that there is no energy left to cleanse itself. This is my nutshell interpretation of the whole concept explained in one whole book.

So the point of a cleanse is to give your body time to find and remove the toxins. Part of this is done by giving your digestive system ample time for digestion and the other part is by eating super "clean" foods. So for 21 days, breakfast and dinner must be liquid, punctuated by one meal per day at lunch time. The foods you can consume are limited. LOTS of water, and at least 12 hours of fasting for every 24 hour period (this is pretty easy. Not eating between 8 pm and 8 am is not a chore). No sugar, no dairy, no wheat. Try to poop a lot.

I found a Jack Lalanne juicer on ksl for half the price of a new one and snatched it up. I begin every morning with a juice. Have you ever had an alfalfa sprout/broccoli/apple juice? I have! Mid-day meals consist of chicken or fish with ample vegetables and sometimes a non-gluten grain like quinoa or brown rice. Dinner is always a smoothie, maybe blueberries with almond milk and a hint of agave syrup. I've purchase as organically as my circumstances allow.

The benefit is supposed to be more energy, clear skin, bright eyes, calm mind, better sleep, and the elimination of stuff like heartburn, bloating, and general feelings of ickiness.

The first two days were the most challenging. I was just coming off of the excessive holidays and I really felt so hungry not stuffing myself with sugar and carbs every other hour. I was going through withdrawal. By day five I as amazed at how little hunger I felt. My body needs so much less than I regularly provide it. Now, at day 16, hunger isn't even an issue anymore. When I'm tempted to eat outside the program, it's because I miss a particular food, not because I'm actually hungry. By day eight R came home from school with a chocolate donut and the smell of it was actually more repulsive than enticing. I don't crave sugar.

It's definitely been a challenge, however. I've watched people around me eating delicious-looking and terrific-smelling food. The biggest temptations for me, oddly, have been saltine crackers with cheese, and, not oddly, nachos. I slice up pizza and serve it to my kids without even licking my fingers.

So how do I feel? Well, last week I didn't feel great. I noticed a major decrease in my energy (I'm trying to train for the relay!), my weight loss had plateaued, and I was getting kind of grumpy. Why was I doing this? I almost quit. But I called my dear friend, who, along with her husband, started the program the same day as I did and she talked me through it. The book says the real benefits exhibit themselves in week three. I couldn't give up.

Today, I think I can say I really do feel good. Emotionally I have felt more balanced, which is a real blessing since DH is working late into the night most every day. I've lost ten pounds since I started, which, of course, makes me feel elated. I feel pride that I've stuck with it. I feel good. I feel healthy. My clothes fit better, my skin seems more vibrant. My whole family has colds. I don't. (shrug)

I've been amazed at a lot of people whose first reaction when I tell them what I'm doing is "I could never do that!" I've been thinking about that, and my opinion is that what they are really saying is "I don't want to do that." Phrases like, "I like food too much" are lost on me. As if I don't love food? As if I don't eat six Rhodes rolls at Sunday dinner because I just love them so much? As if I don't finish off birthday cakes by myself because I can't keep my fork out of them? The fact is, if you feel crappy enough and want to feel better enough, anyone can do something like this. Yup, it's hard. No doubt. But we can do hard things. All of us.

So I'll forgo birthday cake on E's birthday this week and on Monday I'm going to eat a saltine. Maybe more than one. :)

Oh, and add this to my list of hard and fast goals for 2012. I didn't want to include it unless I was sure I could do it. Now I'm sure:

- Eat no more than 40 desserts until 2013.

So far I'm O for 40.

Snippets

2012-01-09T14:43:00.005-07:00

December felt like a dream. I finished up school and then I felt like I was just scrambling each day trying not to forget something I had to do. I was trying to relax and enjoy things, but I felt like life wouldn't let me. Christmas kind of came and went without my noticing. At least Santa followed through and my kids seemed happy.

The camera was an afterthought in all the rushings-around of the season, so we literally took six pictures in the month of December.

Still, here are a few moments I'm glad we documented.

T had her first orchestra concert, combined with the band. Elementary school musicians are often as much endured as they are appreciated, but I was brought to tears watching my sweet girl up there proudly being a part of something. She's improving swiftly.

Christmas eve, bathed and in their new jammies. E's face gets me every time. My kids seem older each time I look at them.

Christmas morning, checking out the loot with Grandma and Grandpa along for the ride.

I'm Back, Baby (The Year 2012)

2012-01-04T11:06:00.005-07:00

2010 was the year of Change.

2011 was the year of Goals. I accomplished a lot of them. Most notably, I completed all of my college coursework. Jots and tittles aside, I am a college grad. I shall walk in May. When I submitted my last final, with DH asleep beside me, I sat in my bed and cried in pure elation, relief and pride. It was an accomplishment I'd all but given up on a few years ago. My English professor, who has taught me four separate courses in the last two years, told me he'd miss my writing. That was a nice little ego bump. I also taught myself to run in 2011, running my first full 5k, as well as completed 50,00 words of fiction in a month. A year of goals indeed.

2012 has been proclaimed the year of Health. I've known for a while now that something is not right with me. I am unbalanced. My blood work has revealed abnormal levels of a plethora of hormones, including, but not limited to, thyroid, adrenal, testosterone and estrogen. My weight fluctuates strangely and there are abnormal ... happenings ... down there. *ahem* I've had several discussions with my doctor, whom I adore for taking the time to really examine my overall health instead of just handing out fix-its for symptoms, and I'm determined to do whatever it takes to find Health and Balance. I capitalize them because they are that important.

One of the first steps I'm taking is completing a 21 day detoxification/cleanse, a specific program created by Dr. Alejandro Junger. (See book on book list.) I have always been mighty skeptical of words like "cleanse," "colonics," "detox," and such, but much of what I read in the book was in keeping with things I've been discussing with my doctor, and I decided that I'm willing to give three weeks of eating/drinking ULTRA healthily a try. Apparently fixing your guts can fix a lot of things, including things like Depression. Even if it doesn't make me feel amazing, it certainly can't hurt me. TLee recommended the program to me with a positive testimonial, so here I am, three days in, enjoying my organic blueberry/avocado/cinnamon smoothie and three pounds lighter than I was on Sunday.

I've also committed to run (as team captain, even!) in the Red Rock Relay in Moab, UT this May. This is a 65 mile race run by teams of 6 members each, every member running two legs, each leg anywhere from three to eight miles. Yes, people, I, Joni, who was a sworn non-runner, have committed to run 10 miles in ONE DAY. With hills. DH is running too, as well as four other members of his family. The training has already begun.

Here are my hard and fast goals for 2012 to help me achieve Health and Balance in body and mind.

- Run 366 miles (I thought averaging a mile a day for the whole year felt nice. And it's leap year.)

- Attend the temple at least 12 times

- Read at least 60 books

- Clean every closet, drawer, nook and cranny in my home. PURGE.

- Complete my book.

I have other goals that are more like mantras, such as:

- Focus on food as fuel as opposed to food as pleasure

- Focus on being strong as opposed to being skinny

- Explore new avenues of food/recipes. Try some vegan recipes. Cut back on trigger foods such as sugar and dairy.

- Learn to balance time. Learn to say no to things that are unnecessary and cause extra stress.

- Play with my children.

- Serve DH. Date him. Kiss him.

- Limit screen time (Don't worry. Blogging will actually INCREASE this year.)

I've grown a lot in the past couple of years. This is going to be the best one so far. I can feel it.

2011 Book Standouts

2012-01-03T11:12:00.008-07:00

It is that time once again for my yearly book review. I read 40 books in 2011, which was pretty good considering that I was in school all three semesters. Some of the books I read I had to read for school, many not. I did a whole lot of reading that is not included in the list, various articles, textbook chapters, etc.

I read a lot more non-fiction this year than I traditionally have. In general I always choose fiction, but I suppose my tastes are expanding. I don't know how to compare them and pick a favorite, because I liked different books for different reasons, but the standout would probably have to be Man's Search For Meaning by Victor E. Frankl. This book is written from the unique perspective of a Holocaust survivor who is also a psychologist. Frankl discusses what happens mentally to a person when they are in such a brutal environment as a concentration camp. The book is a fascinating blend of emotional and intellectual analysis of first-hand experience. It left me crying, yet fiercely hopeful. I highly recommend this book to anyone.

Runners up for non-fiction, which are so vastly different from each other, are I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou, and Escape by Carolyn Jessop. Angelou's book is simultaneously magical and devastating, the memoir of Angelou's childhood written in such rich, honest language, it left lasting images in my brain. Angelou, in my opinion, deserves all the accolades she has received as a poet and writer. Her words are beautiful, her story touching. Jessop's book, on the other hand, was not that well written at all. More like the way a high-school senior might write a memoir, and probably heavy-handed in the edit department, yet the story itself was so engaging. I found Jessop's courage, not only to leave the mob-like FLDS community in which she was raised, but also to publish her story, inspiring and jaw-dropping. Because I'm Mormon, I am particularly interested in learning what life is like in an FLDS community. Our religions may share the same roots, but they could not be more different. If the devil himself were to run a church, I can't see it being much different than how the FLDS church influences its members.

I read A LOT of Shakespeare this year. Of the seven plays I read, King Lear was my favorite. Many people find its overt tragicness disconcerting, but I fell in love with it, beginning to end. The relationships, the glaring if-only's, the ripe imagery, as well as some of Shakespeare's best verse make it one of my very favorite Shakespearian works to date. I also read many pages of Charles Dickens, who has now claimed a slot in my top five authors of all time. Of the four Dickens novels I read this year, Great Expectations was my favorite, but if I'm going to recommend a Dickens book, it would be A Tale of Two Cities.

Aside from Shakespeare and Dickens, my favorite classic of the year was The Importance of Being Earnest, a play by Oscar Wilde. A quick read, but so darn clever. I can't wait to someday see it performed.

Best book about writing, hands down, is Stephen King's On Writing. This is a book that, in my opinion, every serious writer should own. Easy to read, nay, enjoyable to read, and chock full of plain-fact wisdom about writing.

Funniest book: Bossypants by Tina Fey. Not that I read a lot of funny books this year, but I enjoyed enough of this book to say it's worth picking up.

Orson Scott Card's The Lost Gate gets my vote for best SciFi/Fantasy. I was particularly excited about this book because I got to read early chapter versions of it while I took my writing class from Card in the summer of '10. It was fun to know some of the background and to see how his writing process had evolved. I can always count on Mr. Card to tell me a story that I will be interested in. Even his worst novels are better than most.

Best fiction: I'm going to have to jump on the bandwagon and say The Help by Kathryn Stockett. I really enjoyed reading this book. That pie. That is a moment of literary brilliance that will live forever.

Last, but not least, I have to mention the book Eats, Shoots and Leaves; The Zero Tolerance Approach to Punctuation by Lynne Truss. This short little book about grammar is funny and entertaining while clearing up some of the most commonly made mistakes. A funny book about grammar? You know I'm all over that.

Overall, I think the quality of books I read this year was quite good. Not a lot of disappointments, so I consider it a pretty big success. I'm excited that 2012 will all be books I choose. I'm going to read at least 60 books this year. Happy reading, y'all.

Writey-Tighty

2011-12-01T12:19:00.003-07:00

Well, Hi!

November was crazy. I participated in NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month), a program set up for a bunch of crazies like me to attempt to write 50,000 words of a novel all from November1-30. To give a bit of context, the average novel that you pick up at the library is usually between 80,000 to 120,000 words, so while 50,000 words can technically be a full novel, it makes a short one. Still, this is a huge amount to write in 30 days.

And what's better, I DID IT! I had attempted NaNoWriMo in the past, but I quit early both times. I wasn't prepared for the fact that when you're shooting for quantity, the quality will inevitably suffer. When my work didn't qualify as the next great novel, I gave up.

But this time, I really gave in to the process. I vowed that no idea was too stupid, no language too un-literary. I just went for it. And ended up with a mostly-unreadable, often dragging, really cool story that I love and that I can't wait to get into a more polished form. I chose kind of an ambitious plot for my first time, lots of details, lots of stuff to figure out, so much of it still needs serious work, but HEY-

I did it! In 28 days, I might add.

And I really, really enjoyed it. I can't dispute it any longer: I'm a writer! Also, it helped that this time I had a friend who did it as well. We pushed each other through many an unmotivated moment.

Some people have asked when they can read the book (which I still can't bring myself to slap with a title). The official answer is: not for a long time. It needs three times as much work as I've already put into it before I'd let anyone look at it, and then probably that much time again before I'd call it really ready for public consumption.

However, just to give you all a taste of what my mind has been immersed in for the past month, I found an excerpt that's not too terribly embarrassing for your, erm, enjoyment? Sure, let's go with enjoyment. This is all you get until further notice.

It was dark and cold in the small space Derek clung to. He had on only the pair of underwear Steven had given him yesterday. He dared not dive back into the water for fear of being heard, but his fingers were aching. If he stayed much longer he might slip, exposing his bare flesh to the sharp edges of the cave wall. He ventured a quick look at the cut already on his thigh. It was about five inches from top to bottom, and maybe half an inch deep. Such a wound would have meant a doctor’s visit on the mainland. He cringed at the thought of submerging it in the salty water, but decided it wasn’t bad enough to keep him from swimming.

The voices were retreating and his toes screamed in pain on the tiny ledge he rested on. He couldn’t hold on anymore. Derek executed a splashless dive into the water, groaning underwater as the salt attacked his wound. With some difficulty, and more than a few muttered curses under his breath, he got the little boat off the ledge and into the water. By wedging the opposite edge of the boat under an exposed lip of rock, he managed to maneuver himself inside it without flipping it. He tried his best to ignore the bloody water streaking down his leg and paddled himself to the opposite side of the cove. Now he could stay close to the far wall as he paddled out into the open body of the lake. He couldn’t hear anyone on shore anymore, but kept himself alert to possible ambush. Paddling was slow going with the single oar as he had to alternately dip on either side, crossing it over his body with each stroke. He crept out into view of the beach. It was empty.

With a sigh, he poured his focus into paddling the small craft. From here it was perhaps half a mile to the pillar where he had first entered the lake and met Abram. From his current perspective, and perhaps just a few hundred meters past the pillar, he could see the entrance into a cove that curved around, most of it out of sight. This was surely the cove the little man had told him about.

After many minutes without incident Derek felt relaxed, aside from the cut, which had adopted an intense stinging sensation. He took a few minutes to survey the lake, which was truly a wonder, the ceiling high above producing a soft, natural light. The walls were an endless series of bubbles and ripples, icicles of rock clinging deftly to the roof. All was quiet. Serene.

The moment didn't last. Derek was surprised by a huge splash just behind him, close enough to splatter him with a cascade of droplets. He looked behind him, breaking his rhythm and losing precious momentum. Steven’s head surfaced and drew a deep breath. He had taken the mighty leap from the ceiling catwalk! Steven barely paused before he began to swim. Derek started to paddle, but knew that he could never outrun Steven in the clunky dinghy. In one fluid motion he stood and dove, beginning what was certainly the most crucial race of his life.

It's not Stephen King, but it's mine.

So, I officially get to say I "won" NaNoWriMo 2011 (which just means I got to the 50k goal. It's not a competition.). I'm a happy little duckling, and tonight my fellow winner and I are going out for celebration dessert.

Now all I have to do is finish my semester (2 more weeks!) and I can check "graduate from college" off of my 5 year plan. It won't be long before I can check off "write a book" as well!

And don't despair. Blogging is definitely on the agenda for the future.

Ha'11oween (Part 2)

2011-10-31T15:39:00.007-06:00

In the afternoon, while T and R were at school, E and I went to DH's office to go trick-or-treating.

R was super cute as a chocolate chip cookie when he was three years old, and E is, if possible, even cuter. I was about 6 months pregnant with E when I made this costume.

Could you not just eat her right up?

At the office, someone was handing out chocolate chip cookies. The stars were aligned.

In other costume recycling news, DH fit into the corn costume that I made for R last year and even won third place in the costume contest at work!

I think the fact that the hat fits him like a swim cap was the real clincher. It makes me laugh.

This is my costume:

If you don't see what it's supposed to be, blur your eyes a little. I saw a picture like this online and wanted to try it. It didn't turn out as awesome as I'd imagined, but it was really hard to draw it on myself while looking in the mirror.

And my final Halloween treat to you is this song, which I have been listening to obsessively for the last three days. I heart it.

Have a frightfully fun evening, y'all.

Ha'11oween (Part 1)

2011-10-31T10:15:00.006-06:00

I really like to do my costume reveal early in the day, but since I don't have any photos of DH and E (willful little stinker that she is) refuses to put on her costume for a photo, I'll have to do this in two parts. No guarantee about when part 2 is coming.

This year's jacks:

E's, mine, DH's, T's, R's

We each designed our own (DH used a template, and E chose shapes and then got help from mom).

T used the one and only pumpkin that grew in our garden. She thought the braces were incredibly clever.

COSTUME REVEAL

R wanted to be a vending machine, but didn't want to be in a cardboard box, so this is what I came up with:

T wanted to be a butterfly, but not just any old generic butterfly, a Blue Morpho butterfly. They look like this:

I found some great blue fabric, cut it out and painted it.

This shot with the flash shows the cool texture/shininess of the fabric. T and I were pretty pleased with how it turned out.

Everyone else's costumes are recycled this year, but DH looks pretty cool in R's costume from last year and E makes an adorable little cookie. I'll try to get those photos up later today.

Happy Halloween.

Friday Flashback

2011-10-14T09:07:00.010-06:00

Hello, My Chickens.

I've had a lot on my mind lately, and have even written a couple of blog posts that have been relegated to the "drafts," scarcely revisited. They were useful as writing exercises, but sounded whiny and a bit incoherent. I've been known to be both.

I found myself this morning with a laptop and a mug of fat free hot chocolate (25 calories and really not bad!) realizing that it's friday. Time for a flashback!

I sifted through the years, trying to think of a story to tell you and realized that I rarely mention or think about my time at college before I nannied in Connecticut. I was away from home for the first time, severely depressed, but undiagnosed (and would remain so for 6 more years). I was having a difficult time making friends. I attended school full-time and worked two part-time jobs in an effort to provide for myself. Emotionally, it was a very dark, hard time for me.

One of my jobs was working for the catering service of the college. We covered all sorts of events - anything from football game concessions to formal events. I didn't love this job. I have never been good at food service. But I did okay. My manager, Chris, was a guy around 25 years old, had grown up, gone to high school and this college all in the same town, and still lived with his parents. Picture him as a younger Al from Home Improvement, minus the flannel shirts, and throw in a pair of glasses. He seemed pretty no-nonsense most of the time, but would occasionally pull out a one-liner that was surprisingly funny. He exuded a pissed-at-life kind of attitude most of the time, but, to his credit, seemed to be a pretty competent and straight-forward manager.

One night we were working a football game, just he and I. One person to take the money, one person to get the food, both people shoving tortilla chips into paper bowls during slow times. As our shift was nearing its close, Chris revealed that it was his birthday that day. I wished him Happy Birthday and asked him if he had any fun plans. I learned that he had no plans, had received no gifts, no cards, that his parents had even forgotten. With my eighteen-year-old idealism, I was shocked and empathetic. That seemed so sad and unfair! In a surge of genuine kindness I told him to come to my house an hour after we got off work. I was making him a birthday cake. Our shift ended at 11 PM.

At home, I heard Chris's voice drifting in from the front room as I was stepping out of the shower. It was not even 11:30 yet! I had to somehow get from the bathroom to my bedroom with nothing but a towel for coverage. I would have to pass right by the front room where Chris was waiting. I prayed my roommate would keep him distracted. Cringing with embarrassment and discomfort, I made the dash. Unfortunately, Chris was not on the couch as I had assumed, but standing in the doorway, a great angle for watching Joni scurry past in a bath towel.

Minutes later, dressed, and hair still dripping wet, I greeted Chris (You're early!) and set about throwing together a cake mix. My roommates, mistakenly thinking that this was a guy I must be into, skedaddled. Chris, apparently, made the same mistake. As I stood in the kitchen mixing up the batter he put his arms around me from behind and then (!) reached under my shirt and put his hands on my bare stomach.

I knew I was in trouble.

Shrugging it off, I laughingly informed him of my "purple circle" - my area of personal space. He laughed right back and didn't take the hint.

Knowing what I know now, I realize that I should have either made it very clear that my cake-making was truly just a kind gesture for a pathetic guy on his birthday and laid down some unmistakably boundaries, or, even better, just made him leave right then. Oh, naive, intimidated, trusting little me.

The cake in the oven, we headed to the living room. I coaxed a couple of roommates out of their rooms on some pretense I don't recall. They retreated quickly and I sat, stupidly, trying to figure out how get un-alone with Chris.

I pulled out yearbooks, happy to have some tangible object to place between us. We somehow ended up sitting on the floor and while I was mid-sentence, without warning, he grabbed me by the shoulders, turned me on my back and started kissing me.

Red lights and buzzers went off in my head. The possibility of being raped entered my mind, but I figured that would probably never happen with my roommates in the apartment. For a few stunned seconds I didn't move and just let it happen. I had no idea how I'd gotten myself in that situation and really couldn't process a way out of it. His beard was scratching my face. And things were getting... slobbery.

I pushed Chris away. I don't remember exactly what I said, but I think I told him that he was scaring me and that I didn't want to kiss him. He pretended to act interested in the yearbook for a few minutes, but the cake wasn't even out of the oven before he left.

We had relatively few shifts together after that, and when we did, there was cold formality between us. Fine with me.

When I think of this experience I laugh and mourn a little. I think it's funny that I was so oblivious about guys that I honestly had not seen that coming and did not even realize that my invitation to a guy to come to my house, for cake, at midnight on a Saturday would be construed as an invitation. To my house. At midnight. Duh.

I mourn, too, because I really was just trying to be nice. I'd truly been struggling on my own and I was looking for ways to take the focus off my preoccupation with how bad I thought my life was and do something nice for someone else. I'm bummed that my kind act was thwarted and that some of my innocent idealism was crushed that night. I miss being the girl who doesn't second-guess people's intentions. I also miss having enough energy to have no qualms with making a cake in the middle of the night.

Great. And now I want cake.

We Now Return to Our Regularly Scheduled Programming

2011-10-03T14:01:00.008-06:00

Did you think I'd abandoned you?

Nah. Not me. That's not my style. But I have been experiencing the most severe burnout of my life.

I pushed and pushed and pushed to get through my uber-busy summer. I was going all the time. Writing papers during nap-time, painting walls at 2 AM, reading Shakespeare while I made breakfast for the kids, running in the dark. It was crazy.

When it was all over, I let out a big sigh and sat down.

And then I couldn't get up. For weeks. I'd had steel discipline for months, and suddenly I couldn't motivate myself to do anything. I ate ice cream. I only exercised if I wanted to. I read books I like and hung out with the kids.

It was pretty nice.

Fall semester started (LAST ONE, PEOPLE!) and I have stayed caught up, but I'm certainly not asking my professors for extra credit assignments.

I'm getting to know my kids again and slowly feeling like I can look forward instead of only staring down at my exhausted feet.

So here's what's going on with us now.

DH: Same old. Work. Being an awesome husband. We have made a goal to go to lunch together once a month. It's delightful. I love him dearly.

R: Is in first grade and doing well. I'm very proud of the way he comes home and willingly does his homework, which is much more than he ever had in Kindergarten. He has had a general maturing of his attitude in the last few months, which makes his parents very happy. R quotes that I would like to have on the record:

"Mom, I'm glad you're the cooker in our family because you make the best food in the whole entire world."

"I'm really glad you're my mom. I'd rather have you than a mom who took me to Disneyland everyday."

He did have a run-in with some scissors recently, however. When I found the chopped off spot front and center on his scalp he tried to convince me that he was just "holding the scissors and they flew out of my hand and landed on my head." Mm-hmm. So we shaved his head. He did not like that.

I love this picture. It looks like he's thinking, "Gee, why did I do that?"

It has grown out a bit now, but not a lot, and he was disappointed that it didn't look like his regular haircut by picture day. Oh, well. I don't think he'll be cutting his hair again anytime soon.

T is in third grade and loving life. Her big change is that she started Orchestra, playing violin, which means she has to be to school an hour early two days a week. She is proving very responsible with her instrument and practice schedule. Once she started making real notes with the bow instead of those horrid, spasm-inducing scratches, I was much happier with her decision to learn violin.

We also decided, she and I, that the morning struggles with the hair brush warranted a haircut. She is very happy with her new look. (And here she is wearing the very same dress as pictured above, to give a true comparison.)

We've been enjoying the splendid Indian Summer. I had to snap this shot of T and her little friend the other day. A day in the life.

Since T and R are both in full time school, E is my little buddy, with me constantly. She is such a funny, quirky thing. Potty-training is snail-paced, but we're okay with that. Swimsuits are her preferred attire. Or nothing.

She insists on doing everything herself, and there are consequences if I do not let her. If I close a door for her, she will open it again so that she can close it herself. She insists on spooning her own chocolate milk powder (though she hasn't quite mastered the skill) and, to my ever-lasting frustration, taking off her own diaper. Mostly, though, she's so darn funny that even when she's being impudent I'm usually laughing. I love that little thing.

Me? Well, I've taken up a new hobby. I use it to feel productive when I'm putting off more important things.

It all started with a pair of crocheted slippers that I found online. I really wanted someone to make them for me. Finally, I decided I would make them for me. I followed a few tutorials on YouTube to learn how to do the stitches, and after some trial and error, ended up with these:

T, not to be left out, begged me to make her a pair, so I modified the pattern a little and watched some more tutorials. She is pleased with them:

Then, to keep my hands busy during General Conference I made myself a scarf. Sorry, I forgot to turn the picture, but you get the idea.

Now that I'm standing up on a regular basis again, I'll be back to blogging and everything else I like to do. My burn-out is burning out. And my thighs are shouting loud and clear, "Stop eating ice cream."

Roger that.

Dirty Little Hogs

2011-10-03T14:00:00.007-06:00

On one bright morning in early September, an awesome little group dressed up in some ugly outfits.

Boys: DH and his brothers

Girls: DH's sister, SIL, and me

All ready to run a little 5K...

... and get completely covered, head to toe in stinky, sticky muddy mud.

Which one is me? I'm in the middle, top row.

Velociraptors.

There were obstacles, trenches, hay bales, fire hoses, lakes, ropes, slides, mud pits, army crawls, manure, falling pants (mine), ruined contacts (A's), fig leaves (boys) and a lot of laughter.

One of the most fun things I've ever done, thanks to my awesome teammates.

The fun ended abruptly with the coldest hose-off endured by man (or woman). How that water was that cold and still liquid I do not know. Surely ice is warmer.

I can tell you I was feeling grateful for a warm shower and a warm lunch that day.

And I would do it all again. Maybe.

Faith, With a Side of Music

2011-10-03T13:51:00.008-06:00

DH, T and R had the opportunity to participate in a unique stage experience this past summer. Our stake joined with members of the LDS church from the British Isles to tell the story of the Oakey's, an English family that joined the church in England during the mission ministry of Wilford Woodruff, and who subsequently crossed the Atlantic and participated in the western migration of the Willie and Martin handcart companies. The musical was written by a British man, who came here to direct it. Though it was a huge commitment for our family to go to rehearsals and performances throughout the summer, it was such a cool thing for them to all be a part of. I opted out of participating because A - I had so much on my plate already, and B - someone needed to take care of E. It was the right choice.

Our performers, along with my parents and DH's dad, after a Saturday matinee.

I was a little worried about how my kids would handle the extensive rehearsal/performance schedule. It involved a lot of backstage waiting. They handled it like little pros.

T and R both had dancing and singing parts. T got to do a do-si-do front and center, and R had his own little jig solo. In that little cap and suspenders, it ranks among the top five cutest things I've ever seen. I was so proud of them both.

DH and the kids made great friendships within the international cast. This is the writer/composer/director of the musical and his wife.

DH played the part of Ephraim Hanks, a man who was sent from the Salt Lake Valley to rescue the Martin and Willie handcart companies. I was so proud of him. He's a great performer. I know the end of the run was bittersweet for him. He misses it a little.

But nobody misses the beard.

How Lowe's Can You Go?

2011-10-03T12:27:00.011-06:00

It all started with a countertop. That ugly pink countertop. I've always hated our main bathroom. It is mostly used by the kids, but it is also the bathroom we direct guests to when the need arises. I decided that I just couldn't wait until we had the funds to replace the countertop, so came up with a temporary solution.

Spray Paint. I headed to Lowe's and purchased Rustoleum hammered finish spray paint. I think it's meant for stuff like mail-boxes, outside furniture, lamp-posts, etc.

Now that I've done it, I don't recommend this method. Indoor spray painting is killer on the lungs and I had to clean a film of paint particles off of every surface in the bathroom. Also, it scratches.

Still, it's an improvement and I don't regret it. A fresh-looking countertop, however, encouraged my desire for further updates, so I ended up painting the cabinets (which were old, drawn on with pen, and had not escaped the big nail polish debacle of 2010).

Then, at the suggestion of my sister in response to my frustration about the nail-polish-splattered and very dingy looking grout, I painted it. You can see the pink where the polish never came out of the grout, and the clean, updated look of the white paint.

By then I was committed. A new shower curtain, new towel rod and toilet paper dispenser and rug were all purchased. All that was left was to find a wall color that somehow tied it all together yet looked okay with the red tile accents in the shower. I think I did it. Here is my completely updated bathroom:

Oh, but that is not all. Anyone who has seen my basement - not many, admittedly - know that the bathroom was a scary place. The unfinished shower was dark, dirty-looking, and made that room uninviting for any privacy seekers, despite the fact that the toilet was perfectly functional. We hired some hands more skilled than ours and only a few headaches later have a pretty little shower in the basement:

I picked out all the tile by myself. (Well, technically I wasn't "by myself." I have decided I would rather tattoo my eyelids than ever take my children to Lowe's again.)

And just because we felt we hadn't given Lowe's enough of our money (and also because I was so sick of children ruining the flower beds between our driveway and the neighbor's property) we ripped out all the irises, which were over-mature anyway, and finally created a little rock design in that space. I say finally because I borrowed the mold from my BIL at the beginning of last summer, which was when I originally planned to complete this project. DH and I figure we loaded and mixed close to 1000 lbs of concrete for this project. I'm glad it's done. And I'm never doing it again.

We enjoy handing out money so much that we gave a bunch to a mold restoration company and, subsequently, a plumber, when it was discovered that we had mold in our basement from a leaky kitchen faucet. We are now the proud owners of a new kitchen faucet and a basement bedroom wall of mismatched color, which had to be completely ripped out and re-drywalled. That's okay. I see another trip to Lowe's in our future as this room, and its accompanying functional bathroom, is slated to become the residence for a certain eight year old who is tired of sharing with a toddler.

Family Reunion '11

2011-10-03T12:23:00.011-06:00

In the summer of 2010 my sister Sh hosted our family reunion. Looking ahead to the summer of 2011 I couldn't foresee any big plans (HA!) and thus volunteered to host this year. Little did I know then that it would be the busiest summer of my life.

I wouldn't change a thing, however. I was really pleased with the reunion and how it turned out. My only regret was the limited photo documentation I accomplished. I was just too busy to take many pictures!

Our reunion opener was a big luau.

Don't I look like a genie coming out of the fruit?

I tried my darnedest to make sure the food was authentic, and I think it turned out really well. The "meat bees" (wasps) were particularly fond of the Kaluah pork. We had to be brave and fight them for it (or make our husbands do it, right K?).

We all dressed up in our best Hawaiian garb, and everyone got a name tag with their name translated into Hawaiian.

I felt bad that I didn't have any island-y shirt for R to wear so we compromised with a polynesian "tattoo" instead. It was a hit.

Guests arrived throughout the evening greeted by food, Hawaiian music, tiki torches and a host of smiling faces.

That blonde is my brother's new daughter-in-law.

A very floral bunch.

With my limited resources I really tried to create a "mood." I don't know what everyone else thought of it, but I was pleased.

Here is the clan all together. We missed my brother, RoTC, and his family, but other than that we're a pretty complete set (aside from a couple of missionaries and a few cousins who couldn't make it).

We chatted and played games into the night. W, of course, tried to coax E into some loves. It took a few tries, but she not only eventually gave him snuggles, but brought a blanket for him from her own bed. W was nursing some sun-burned feet from the previous day. We had had a fun day of water-skiing (I've still got it!) but that one oversight produced a weekend of pain for my poor brother. It wouldn't have been too big of a deal, probably, if he hadn't had to squeeze his feet into dress shoes and stand around at his son's wedding reception.

Everyone retired to their hotels or borrowed beds and we met up the next morning. Out-of-towners visited the local copper mine (quite a sight to see) while I spent the morning doing food prep.

After lunch, we embarked on a Minute-To-Win-It adventure. We played several games, about half of which are actually showcased:

B shows us some serious Elephant Walk skills.

My dad earned his pachyderm patriarchy and kicked all our butts!

Hanger balancing.

Tea bag flipping.

When my niece started the game where she had to get the pennies out of the panty hose without letting her hands touch each other, someone shouted, "Your bracelet!" to which she responded, "It won't be a problem." 55 seconds later, as the hose were stuck on her bracelet, she was wishing she'd listened.

We took a few photos and then everyone vamoosed to the wedding reception of W's oldest son.

(Of whom, stupidly, I don't even have any photos.)

Me and my siblings, minus one:

With Mom and Dad:

The weather was accommodating, only choosing to rain hard while we were at the wedding reception.

Highlights of that night were trying to ignore my nephew who tried to lead us all astray while we played Word on the Street and watching my sister master the cow milking game on her iphone.

We arose the next morning, went to church and worked on all the leftovers afterward. Family slowly trickled off to rendezvous with freeways and airports throughout the evening. It was a lovely time and I'm very grateful to everyone who made the effort to be there.

So who's hosting next?

Friday Flashback

2011-08-05T23:41:00.011-06:00

I have fifteen minutes of Friday left, so I'm going to go ahead and write, even though I should be sleeping, or reading Shakespeare, or writing a paper, or cleaning my house. In one week our stress level will go from about a level 9.6 to, oh, I'm guessing somewhere in the 4+ range.

We've got a really-super-lot going on right now. Smack dab in the middle of finals and nightly performances for DH, T and R. I attended opening night of their play last night and my buttons were busting with pride over them.

Okay, and maybe I was just a teensy bit jealous. Hey, I'm a diva, what do you want from me?

But really, I was so happy to sit in that comfy conference center chair and watch my sweet children grinning on stage as they tried really hard not to look right at the audience, and watch my husband, so fuzzy he's almost unrecognizable, sing a touching duet and speak his powerful lines.

The tech crew was having some pretty serious issues, but apparently the lighting guy fell off the stage and broke most of his ribs just a couple of nights before the show. Yikes. Sending good thoughts and prayers his way, and a few more to his replacement. He needs them.

Anyway, back to my flashback. I got to thinking about some of my favorite moments on stage and remembered one my most awesome moments of all time.

When I was in college I was a member of a really great choir. We sang for religious functions throughout the year and then every year we put together a big variety show which we performed in the big theater at the college and then took on tour somewhere in the U.S. The year I was in the choir with my best friend/roommate, JDC, she was given the female part of a patriotic duet called "Freedom's Light," which she performed in the variety show and which was, subsequently, one of the tracks on our CD that year.

Then JDC went on a mission to New Jersey. I missed her a lot.

The next year I was in the choir again. In the fall the choir participated in a big, collaborative patriotic show sponsored by the college. It's a pretty big draw every year and the 2000 seat auditorium was completely full. They had found some hoity toity male vocalist to come and sing "Freedom's Light" as a solo and he was going to use the minus track (music without vocals) that our choir had used the previous year.

But it was discovered, minutes before the concert was to begin, that the only track they had of the song was the one with the vocals that JDC and another guy from our choir had performed, the track that was on our CD.

In a panic, our choir director came to us, asking if anyone knew the track well enough that they could believably lip sync it. They had to have a female to cover JDC's part.

I'd listened to that CD so many times, I knew every single nuance of that song. Every breath, every little pause or tonal inflection. I shot my hand right up and they whooshed me backstage where they handed me a microphone and I met a very ticked off hoity toity vocalist who had to be trained when to lip sync to the male vocals. Not only did he not get to sing, but he had to pretend like that voice on the CD was his own.

I got up in front of those 2000 people and gave a stellar performance. Aside from those in the choir, no one had any idea that the song had not been performed live. And I could "sing" with confidence because I knew exactly how great "my voice" would sound. It was a totally fun, unanticipated moment of glory, and a way to feel close to my best friend who was thousands of miles away. She got a pretty good laugh when I told her that story.

And it still brings a smile to my lips.

Do You Realize What This Means?

2011-07-27T09:22:00.002-06:00

For 7 hours a day I only have one little girl to worry about!

T's first day of 3rd grade (yesterday).

R's first day of 1st grade (today). I don't love the mohawk look, but he insisted.

Right before school today. Little miss potty training E wanted to be in the photo too.

It wasn't until after I took these pics that I figured out that my lens was smudged. That seems to be a chronic problem at our house.

Wipeout Party

2011-07-23T20:16:00.011-06:00

R turned 6 this week, which means that amongst all the busyness we had a birthday party to plan. After discussing several themes, R finally chose Wipeout.

For those of you unfamiliar with the ABC show, each episode is an hour of contestants running, flopping, fumbling and swimming through a series of gigantic obstacle courses while comedian commentators gently mock them.

The most well known component of the show is the big balls:

My kids love this show. They think it is hilarious. I kind of do too.

So the party began with everyone watching part of an episode of Wipeout, just to get in the mood. It reminded me just how grown up my boy is to listen to him and his friends guffaw and make goofy comments.

Then we went in the backyard to participate in our own Wipeout obstacle course.

It began with our own version of the "big balls." Okay, so they aren't big, and they aren't balls, but I had safety and a budget to contend with:

Then they waded through a pool where they had to "fight off" a "swarm" of "killer" octopi (read, manage to avoid 3 inflatable octopi).

Next was weaving through "cones" (plastic cups), and under the trampoline where the "contestants" had to get through the "sweeper" (T swishing a foam noodle).

After the sweeper they had to climb over a bucket and then walk along a "balance beam" (jumprope) while getting sprayed with silly string. (Those familiar with the show know that contestants are often sprayed with something messy.):

Then they had to "swim" through the "big" pool:

Jump over the hurdles...

Which sometimes also included silly string. Through another pool-

Down the slide into yet another pool:

And, lastly, down the "chute" into the "Winner's Circle."

R invited 5 friends, including his cousins B and D. They each got a practice run, then two timed runs so they could try to improve on their own time. I think the fastest anyone made it through the course was 21 seconds!

Also, it will be long time before I volunteer to inflate anything again.

Next we enjoyed an ice cream cake from Cold Stone. That smile makes it all worth it.

And, of course, opening presents. (Please note the "big ball" balloons on the birthday seat.)

R was very excited about his ultra-cool toy from his grandpa.

The party was a great success, not too long, not too short, with an excess of adults (thanks for coming DH2 and M!) for helping with the little things. We had a yard full of cute kids, my favorite little boy leading the bunch. Happy Birthday, R! I love you, you quirky, smart, little drama man.

After the party was cleaned up we let R choose a restaurant and the kids watched high-divers, fire-dancers and silk-acrobats while they ate their chicken and fries. Also, today I caught E about a microsecond before she cut her bangs off at the scalp. My kids keep me on my toes so much they're starting to bruise.

Special thanks to DH for nodding his head and saying, "Whatever you want, Dear" before, during, and after the party. He did the majority of the grunt work. And I love him for it.

Putting it in Writing

2011-07-20T17:06:00.003-06:00

Long ago and far away I got the idea that I could pursue fiction writing. Like, letting other people read the stuff I wrote. It has been a journey for me to identify who I am as a writer, and I haven't arrived at a clear answer yet, but I've made progress.

I started entering online contests a number of years ago and started making good connections with many talented writers. I've watched as a number of them, namely Jamie Ford, Jaye Wells, and Sarah Hina, have achieved great success in the world of publishing. My name became one recognized to other writers in a ring of blogs.

I struggled with differing aspects of my life, however. Writers were coming to my personal blog and getting an online journal. I felt bad for making them wade through personal narratives and baby pictures, and like any mystique I'd gained was lost. Also, I'm ashamed to admit, I didn't want the fact that I'm Mormon to influence the perception of my writing. I wanted other writers to see only my words without any stigma. On the flip-side, I was sometimes scared to share my writing on my personal blog. I felt like my Mormon friends and family might not understand when my characters did and said things that Mormons try not to do.

So I created a new blog, using a pseudonym when associating with other writers. Eventually, my pseudonym became known on the blogs. I liked the anonymity. I liked having that private aspect in my life.

But time marches on and we all evolve in the process. I'm done dividing myself. I'm to a point now where I'm ready to ditch the pseudonym (Hoodie) and lay bare my writing for the eyes of whomever will read. My confidence often wanes and I wonder if "being a writer" is a vain dream. I'm ready now, however, to face who I am as a mother, a wife, a depressed maniac, a Mormon, a vain dreamer and a writer, and let them all be the same person. This is my formal plea to those that read to judge my words for their own sake. I can take it if they, alone, fall short. From now on this blog will serve as any scrap of info I choose to post, be it journaling, writing, photos or any other snippet that captures my fancy. You may, as they say, take it or leave it.

That being said, I'd like to share my recent submission to a contest at Clarity of Night, hosted by Jason Evans, whom I respect highly. This is flash fiction. Contest rules stated 250 words or less. Head on over to Jason's if you are interested in reading any of the 101 other entries.

All We Are

The tock-tock of the grandfather clock echoed beside her as she slumped against the wall, twisted carpet between her fingers. Large swaths of afternoon light cut through the living room windows and she let her head fall back, fixated on the illumined dust particles and their lazy drifting. What was dust, anyway? Flour so fine it had escaped the inferno? Kicked up dirt, meandering its way back home? Perhaps, she realized, it was itsy bits of people, flaked-off pieces of themselves transcendent enough to defy petty laws like gravity.

Was she, right now, breathing in parts of herself? Of Jeff?

Of Lily?

Maybe, at this very second, she was surrounded by teeny little pieces of Lily, still floating, silent, everywhere.

The AC kicked on.

She heard Jeff’s slow step down the stairs behind her, knew he spotted her legs jutting out from behind the clock. Silence. She felt his stare, the weight of speech growing on his tongue.

Finally, he sighed. “Mel, you can’t-”

Her words, quiet, were measured in teaspoons. “Please. Go. Away.”

Another long silence. The garage door opened. Shut.

A robin hopped across the porch, its rusted belly plump as a bean bag. She watched it through the plated window of the storm door.

And then she saw Lily’s handprint, greasy and perfect, like stamped butter on the glass.

Crawling to the door she nearly touched it, withdrew her hand, and the AC chilled fresh trails on her cheeks.

FAITH, the Musical

2011-07-05T13:29:00.005-06:00

Our family was given the unique opportunity to take part in Faith, the Musical, with 9 performance dates beginning next month (that would be August) at the Conference Center in Salt Lake City. Written by a very talented man in England, the production tells the story of early saints of the LDS church and the physical/spiritual journey many of them took from England to America and across the plains as pioneers. Actors from England are working in conjunction with actors and chorus members from our stake to put on this show. Here's the important part: DH has a speaking/solo part and my two oldest kids will also be in it. There is singing. There is choreography. It promises to be outstanding.

Tickets are inexpensive and on sale here. Come see my family perform. It's their turn to shine.

Current Event Haikus

2011-06-22T15:23:00.009-06:00

Kids in year-round school

Longingly gazing outside

Endure two more weeks

Pierced ears for Miss T

The constant search for mirrors

Girl is growing up

My son, the source of

Exasperation and pride

In equal measure

Impetuous E

Mining for boogers one day

Found one, said "Ta Da!"

Father's Day success

Presents given every hour

Happy Dad is good

Weight-loss endeavor

Planning meals and exercise

Four pounds lost last week

Personal Record

Jogging the paved neighborhood

Three point seven miles

Got some new best friends

Ancient History, Shakespeare

Read, Write, Test, Repeat

DH and the kids

Musical rehearsal bound

Run for Congo

2011-06-16T12:08:00.006-06:00

In March I attended the Bloomsbury Lise Meitner Conference, where I met a woman from another chapter who was organizing a run to benefit women in the DR Congo, a war torn country where women are systematically tortured and raped and families are torn apart by death, poverty and slavery. She told us all about a 5k she was organizing to take place in June. Inspired by her activism and wishing to participate, I made the decision that I would run the entire race.

Thus began my journey training to run a 5k (and spawned my ultimate goal of being able to run 5 miles).

The race was this past Saturday. I was optimistically hoping to complete the race in under 33 minutes. I finished with a time of 30 minutes and 1 second (though I feel comfortable shaving off that extra second since I didn't cross the starting line until after they started the clock). I was in disbelief.

Here is proof of my participation. When I picture myself running I imagine a stream-lined, fit woman cutting across the pavement in athletic glory.

The pictures shatter that illusion, but, oh well. They can't take away my time.

Where's Joni? Look in the middle. (Black visor)

Not as hard to find in this one.

The pear in pants in the background. Make that the running pear in pants in the background.

One of the best feelings in the world.

I was actually so doubtful of my time that I went back to the site of the race and walked it with a GPS to make sure it was actually a full 5k.

It was.

On a related note, I'm participating in a weight loss competition right now, and I not only lost all three of the pounds I gained in Orlando, but I lost one more in addition last week. I ran 9 miles in 7 days (on top of pilates, weight-lifting, walking and hiking!). If you would have asked me a year ago if I could ever make that claim I'd have vehemently exclaimed it was impossible.

Upward and onward.

Orlando by the Numbers

2011-06-14T15:59:00.022-06:00

1 - magical phone call from Dandi inviting us to go to Orlando with them.

6 - fun-filled days with our dearest friends. Also the floor number of our rooms at the resort.

View of the resort from our balcony

Dandi on their balcony, taken from our balcony

18 - floors at our awesome hotel, the Hyatt Regency Grand Cypress

DH in the lobby, taken from the 6th floor.

4 - the number of times we had the delicious hotel breakfast buffet where we had as much fresh-squeezed Florida orange juice as we wanted (they repeatedly filled up our glasses like it was water!) and I partook of a great many baked wares with super-creamy whipped butter.

15 - SPF I used during our countless hours by the pool. I only burned in one place, which is now peeling nicely.

3 - number of tropical drinks I had. Sometimes a person can't be bothered to actually get up from their sunbathing to locate sustenance, so they have to order drinks and lunch poolside.

7 - pairs of sunglasses worn. Dr. Dandi broke his in the pool and found himself a smooth new pair. I hated a pair, bought a new pair, lost that pair within 5 hours and then had that new pair replaced (on the last day).

A couple of crazy kids and a pair of Maui Jim's

Approx. 30 - times we went down the water slide like teenagers trying to get the perfect photo. We only had one collision when I stopped mid-slide to pose and a young girl didn't listen to the lady at the top who told her not to go yet. I'm fairly certain that little girl did not speak English. I'm also fairly certain the little girl was unhurt, but the photo that precipitated the crash in the first place showed gratuitous butt cheek, at which point I threatened Dandi to delete it from their camera or terminate our friendship.

4 - Number of seats on the surrey bike we rode at the hotel. Dr. Dandi was in the drivers seat for a while, then I had a turn. No one was harmed. And there was singing.

A billion - strokes of the paddle in the canoe (not really, but my arms were burning). There were also paddle boats and paddle bikes. Between the four of us, we tried them all.

Chillin' in the backseat of the paddleboat

3 - of the four of us who went golfing. I hung back at the pool and had a zen-moment floating on my back and staring at the sky.

Mrs. Dandi's first time on a course

Real Men

20 - minutes of driving on Sunday to see the temple and attend sacrament meeting. We were all standing in this same spot almost exactly 10 years ago! (for Nu Hoz tour). A sky-writer spelled out the word "Jesus" while we were there, which was cool. I'm pretty sure there was more to come, but we didn't wait around to see it.

Remind me to stand in a way that doesn't make me appear pregnant in flowy dresses.

2 - times we went to Universal Studios.

10 - the rating I give the Harry Potter ride. It was truly incredible.

Waiting in line for Harry Potter

A couple of HOT ladies (literally) in the deceptively snow-covered Hogsmeade

Butterbeer. Scrumptious.

4 - big roller coasters (much to Mrs. Dandi's chagrin). The only one that ever made me nervous was the Rock It. I ended up liking it so much I went on it twice.

9.5 - my overall rating of the food we ate. We always went to dinner at around 10 PM because we couldn't tear ourselves away from the pool. We had dinner at Chevy's (my new fave!) Uno's, Bahama Breeze and Bongo's at Downtown Disney.

Our delightful outdoor table at Bahama Breeze

Do you have friends this gorgeous?

3 - number of pounds I gained.

0 - hours of sleep we got the night before we flew home. We all tried to get some shut-eye on our 6 AM flight.

a million - kisses to Grandma T and Grandma and Grandpa B who made this unforgettable trip relaxing (kidless).

lots - the number of pictures I wanted to include but didn't. Also the amount we love our friends Dandi.

Beloved

2011-06-01T14:56:00.007-06:00

TLee has been training as a photographer and took DH and I out for what is called a "Beloved" shoot. Meant to capture the essence of our relationship, instead of having us just posing together TLee gave us invitations of ways for us to interact with each other and just snapped shots along the way. We went to the temple where DH and I were married and, despite the falling rain, got the most stunning, touching photographs I've ever seen of the two of us. The beauty is that each emotion is genuinely real. Major props to TLee for the breathtaking pics. Click on any one of them to enlarge.

In this next set, TLee told me to think of all the things I was grateful for in DH and then say thank you only by touching his face. I was immediately brought to tears. I am grateful to DH for so much.

And.... then I gave DH a tittie-twister.

TLee told us to imagine the scenario that DH and I were dead and our kids later came across one photo of us they'd never seen. What would we want it to tell them about our relationship? I think this one is it.

Thank you so much TLee, for capturing these moments in time. We love you. And I love DH so much too.

In Celebration of My Body

2011-05-29T21:41:00.012-06:00

When I was a teenager my best friend and I decided we were going to go jogging every morning together to "get skinny." (If only I had realized that I'd be praying for the body I had then for the rest of my life.) Anyway, we did it a couple of mornings, but things tapered off when my friend kept showing up at my bedroom window, throwing pebbles to wake me up, at which point I usually dismissed her in favor of a few more Z's.

I hated running. (And sorry for ditching you all those mornings, Tiff.)

I have always hated running. In the seventh grade we could not pass P.E. unless we ran a mile in less than 8 minutes. The sucky thing was that as soon as you did it, you never had to do it again, so those who were already good at running only had to do it once, while those of us who would have found hari kari more preferable than running a mile were forced to do it over. and over. and over.

I eventually did it in 7:58. And then I threw up in the grass.

As I've aged I've learned two things about me and exercise: 1 - The biggest reason I've hated exercise in the past is that I always feel stupid when my athletic abilities are compared to someone else's. I don't run as fast, go as long, jump as high, push as hard. I feel like an idiot. Exercising alone has taught me that I actually like to exercise. When I use myself as the standard, I find improvement rewarding.

2 - I am not a morning person. Exercising in the morning is not something that I can commit to. It's hard and I hate it. The end.

So now that I know these things about myself, I decided to address the fact that I've spent years psychologically perpetuating the idea that my body can't run.

I got tired of saying, "I can't." It may not come easily to me, but I was determined that I could teach my body to run.

Nine weeks ago I began using the Couch-To-5K running plan. On the first day I ran intervals of one minute each.

Yesterday I ran for 35 consecutive minutes, running 3.2 miles (a 5K) for the first time in my life. Not only that, I did it with TLee (who is currently training for a marathon) on a route with lots of incline.

When we finished, I cried. I cried because it was freaking hard. But I also cried because even though I have a muffin top, a butt the size of Montana, and arms that jiggle when I grate cheese, I also have muscles in my calves that propel me up hills, feet that absorb every step, lungs that can deliver oxygen to my blood, a heart that can withstand the strain of heavy pumping for over half an hour and a mind that has finally accepted the fact that the only limitations on my body are the ones I set for myself. Regardless of how I look, I am so grateful for the gift of my body and what it is capable of. More than that, I'm grateful for what it is capable of becoming.

I'm now a runner.

Next goal: 5 miles.

The Joys of Home Ownership

2011-05-24T14:56:00.007-06:00

I heard a too-true quote on facebook once: Trying to clean your house while your kids are around is like trying to brush your teeth while eating an Oreo.

No kidding. It seems Herculean to not only maintain tidiness, but actually get something cleaned. (I am not Hercules. That is why I suck at this.)

I feel the same way about over-all property upkeep. You get all kinds of ideas of ways you'd like to improve your house/yard, but end up spending a good deal of your time just making sure nature doesn't turn it into a haunted house.

We've now lived in this house for three years, the longest we've stayed anywhere. For a long while after we moved in I really felt like we were just living in someone else's house. There were so many things that weren't to my liking. Bit by bit we've made big and little changes, some because we wanted to, and some because we had to. Those have-to's really bite sometimes.

This is a pile of sticks: This was a had-to. Too many branches growing perilously close to other trees/structures required DH to pull out the ladder and the handsaw and led to the creation of this pile.

This is a pile of sod. This was a wanted-to (for me. Which turned into a had-to for DH.). This sod came from two big efforts. The first was the efforts of the men who came and installed curbing in our yard. The second (and significantly more laborious) was the shoveling of sod out of our garden area to expand it. This was done 96% by DH and 4% by me. I really wanted to do more, but, to put it simply, I'm too wimpy.

Since we moved into our house we have put in a new furnace and installed central air. We also got a new water heater (stupid have-to). We pulled out the front shrubs and built a flower garden around the porch. (That was 96% me, thank you very much.) We built shelves in the storage room and repainted a bunch of the interior. We also replaced the mailbox, thanks to some Halloween pranksters who bashed in the old one with a pumpkin.

This year alone we've had a storm door installed, replaced the exterior light fixtures and house numbers, re-shingled the roof, got curbing in the yard and fixed a leaky water-softener.

Though there are still a plethora of changes I'd like to make (many of them to the interior) the house is beginning to feel like ours.

I've made several attempts at gardening in the past, some more successful than others. I was gung-ho about the Square Foot Gardening system a couple of years ago, but did not see results like I wanted and ended up scrapping the whole thing. For one thing, the neighbor cats (dang them all to heck) thought they were their personal litter boxes. For another, I just didn't like how it looked because the area around the boxes got scrubby. It didn't yield much and I hated that I couldn't till it.

So we got the garden area curbed as well. I'm really loving the defined line around the garden, and we extended it out quite a bit further than it had previously been (hence the sod digging). We're tilled, we're planted and hopefully in a couple of months I'll be able to show a sequel picture of lush green vegetable plants filling up this space. (Provided I keep up on the constant have-to of weeding.)

Meanwhile, I've got a list of projects to get done this summer, which we'll keep chipping away at until we run out of will power. Or money.

What Happens in Vegas...

2011-05-22T21:23:00.007-06:00

DH had a CPE training in Las Vegas (an annual training to maintain his CPA status) this past week and the kids were off-track, so it seemed an obvious choice to turn it into a family vacation, seeing as how travel and hotel would be paid for by DH's company.

We started reconsidering the wisdom of the choice when we saw the view from our hotel room:

Not really a family location. But we tried to make the best of it and visit places we thought the kids would enjoy.

However, we had to wait for DH until 1:30 each day while he took his classes. That was the reason we were there, after all. I learned two things from those mornings: 1 - I hate Cartoon Network. 2 - There is no hotel room big enough for three bored kids, especially when one of them is E.

We did see/do some fun places/things, though. Pay particular attention to R's variety of poses. He has decided that smiling in pictures is not cool, and being cool is his ultimate goal.

Hard Rock Cafe:

Mandalay Bay Aquarium:

The aquarium was a tad disappointing for the price, but they did have saw-tooth sharks, which I'd never seen before and which were completely fascinating to me.

The Luxor:

Carnival games at Excalibur:

This was also where we realized we'd gone too long without changing E's diaper:

Rainforest Cafe at MGM Grand:

Lots of walking along the strip. Lots of redirecting of little eyes.

M&M world. Very expensive M&Ms. But hey, they look cool in all those color-coded tubes.

The only picture of all five of us together:

Bellagio Fountains: (We got a lot of sore feet just to see these fountains.)

The third day we were there it was decided that we couldn't force E out of a nap for another consecutive day, plus I had homework to get done, so DH took R and T out to see some more sights. They saw a couple of circus performers at Circus Circus, then journeyed through the Venetian, the Palazzo and Treasure Island.

We also ate a dinner at Buca Di Beppo's, where the macaroni and cheese was a huge hit. I'm serious. Best macaroni and cheese I've ever had (even if I did have to steal it from T).

The kids seemed to enjoy themselves (most of the time) and R informed DH and me that even though other parents might look like more fun than us, we are indeed the best parents. He also decided he wants to live in Las Vegas pretty much the minute he saw all the lights. Oh boy.

Unfortunately, the weather wasn't great for much of the trip, so our rooftop pool got less use than we planned. Also, the one time I ventured up there with the kids by myself I was so stressed out my mind that they were either going to drown or incur the wrath of the other vacationers with their wild screaming that I decided we would only go with DH thereafter.

Which we got to do:

Even though I spent a great deal of the trip stressed, irritated, and nagging at my children to be quiet, don't climb on things, stay close, stop screaming, stop fighting, sit down, eat your food, etc., how can I deny those happy faces?

I had a couple of moments of peace, too.

But it was no Disneyland.

Time to do it all again

2011-05-09T11:56:00.003-06:00

So.

I got a 4.0 spring semester.

Yes, I was stoked, seeing as how these were my highest level English classes. I have *ONE* more required class for my Major coursework. Woot.

Summer semester was supposed to be super fun and exciting. I was signed up for Shakespeare (which is my last required class) and American Nature Writers, which was essentially a fun-filled week of river-rafting and hiking in Moab coupled with a writing portfolio for three credits.

That class got cancelled because only two people signed up for it. I was very bummed out, to say the least.

So I had to hurry and figure out another class to take. I decided on Ancient/Medieval History because A) It was an 1100 class online, which I hoped would make it easy and B) It is a subject I feel seriously lacking in as far as my general knowledge of the world goes.

That class begins today (Shakespeare begins the end of June). Yeah, I got a week off.

When I saw the syllabus I started groaning. Nope. Not going to be an easy class. DH took one look at the required coursework and said, "Hurry, drop it and pick something else."

And the old me probably would have.

But the new me really wants to know this information. School, now, is about more than finishing. It really is about learning. So while spring semester was really tough scheduling-wise and required a ton of critical thinking, summer semester is going to be chock full of reading, reading and more reading, with a hefty smattering of exams and papers added to the mix.

Bring. It. On.

And may my children forgive me.

Another Year Wiser

2011-04-28T09:09:00.005-06:00

I'm 32. This is what I look like these days. At dinner last night, DH and I discussed how great a year 31 was for me. It has probably been my greatest year of personal change. I am happier and more confident than I can ever remember being. It has been a journey and has required a lot of work: mental, spiritual, and physical. The best part about it all is knowing that I'm ready for the work ahead.

My semester is over! No more hour and a half of commute time every day and writing papers into the wee hours. January and February were some of the most challenging months of my life, as DH worked TONS more than he had anticipated and I was basically trying to go to school while being a single mom. I loved my classes though, and being in a face-to-face classroom again was a stimulating experience. No final grades yet, but I feel confident I did well. *Sigh*

I also lasted a whole month without eating sugar or drinking any soda! I didn't really lose weight because I made up for my lack of sugar with a lot of nachos, but it was a very valuable experience for three reasons:

1 - It taught me to be aware of how much sugar I consume and where the sugar comes from. I read a lot of labels. I've become much more sugar conscious.

2 - I learned that I can say no to a treat without feeling deprived. At T's baptism and at Easter and when people brought surprise cookies to class I was able to just say no and honestly feel that I wan't enjoying myself less. This was a very valuable thing to learn.

3 - I learned that I can make a goal and reach it. I'm learning that more and more all the time. It's really a matter of saying "I will" instead of "I'll try." If you believe you might fail before you even begin, you're cutting off your own feet before you take a step.

So yesterday for my birthday I ate milk chocolate, mint truffles, Cadbury mini eggs, Twix and chocolate cake with ice cream! Oh the sweet taste of victory!

And now I'm ready to cut back on sugar again. I feel better without it. Isn't that amazing?

So, a quick birthday recap:

- Friday, DH and I went to dinner at Biaggi's and to a movie with Dandi for a joint birthday celebration for Dr. Dandi and me. (Again, no treats for me!) Dandi gave me some fun jewelry, just what I wanted!

- I've been getting great cards and gifts in the mail all week. Say what you will about digital communication, snail mail is still the best!

- I woke up yesterday to the kids giving me homemade cards (so sweet!) and DH gave me a book I've been wanting and three bars of Milka chocolate. (I had already purchased my big gift: my Chacos). The very best part was that DH took the day off, took care of the kids and the house so I felt free and easy. R even had a super great attitude and helped DH by washing counters, sinks, mirrors and windows. It really is true, as DH's mom says, that the best gift is a clean house and happy kids. And that's just what I got!

- DH got a babysitter and took me to dinner. I had shrimp and crab risotto and chocolate cake and a Coke classic.

- We came home and watched Survivor. Hey, I know what I like!

For the first time in my life I look to the future with genuine excitement instead of as more time to be endured. By my 33 birthday I'll be a college graduate, and who knows what else! It was a great, great birthday. Now on to a completely busy, crazy, awesome summer!

(Sorry, is my enthusiasm getting annoying? I'll try to tone it down. 12 exclamation points in one post! Holy Crap! [14])

Product Review

2011-04-25T13:02:00.008-06:00

Some of you may be wondering how I'm doing on my 1 month no sugar/no refined grains diet. Well, around week 3 things started getting hairy. Not literally; I've actually been shaving pretty regularly, but my drive for sweets and carbs started really kicking in. I decided that if I was to have success, I needed to relax the grain rule a bit and really focus on the sugar goal. So, alas, while I'm still trying to choose whole grains for the most part, I have partaken of some french bread and, even, a white roll. I've remained pretty diligent in the sugar department, completely avoiding cake, cookies and *gasp* Cadbury mini eggs during several confrontations. I knew my will-power was waning, so in preparation for all kinds of Easter temptations, I equipped myself with some Sugar Free Dove dark chocolates. I truly felt like I was cheating, as these smooth, creamy chocolates tasted almost as good as regular chocolates. In fact, if I had not known they were sugar free, I wouldn't have guessed it. It should be noted that Dove had to make up for their lack of sugar with a lot of saturated fat, so one should not feel that they are eating healthy by opting for these chocolates, but for those who can't/won't tolerate sugar, they are a good choice. A word of warning, however: In small letters near the ingredients list on the back of the package are the words, "Excessive consumption may produce a laxative effect."

!!!

I'm sure more than one person learned that lesson without reading the label. In the end, I can only conclude that anything that makes your guts react so extremely should be eaten with caution.

Over Christmas break (oh, so long ago) we stayed at Dandi's house where I was introduced to Pero. Since then I have learned that I am one of the last Mormons out there who do not know about Pero. But just in case there are more out there who share my previous ignorance, (and you don't have to be Mormon) I would like to introduce you: You, Pero. Pero, You. Pero is basically coffee for people who can't drink coffee. It's a lot like Postum, which apparently is not on the market anymore. Caffeine free and made from barley and rye, it has a strong, bitter taste very similar to coffee. For those of you, like DH, who think that coffee is nasty, you will not like this, but for those of you who linger a little longer in the coffee aisle at the grocery store breathing in the strong scent, you just might. Like coffee, it can be consumed "black," or with cream and/or sugar. I prefer it with a teaspoon each of coffee creamer and cane sugar (though I've lately been using Splenda instead). I purchased a can around Christmas time and I've gone almost completely through it, entirely on my own.

Happy Birthday to me! (In two days). I decided in January that for my birthday I wanted a pair of Chacos. I've spent months researching these not-cheap sandals to ensure finding the perfect pair and these are the ones I ended up with. After hearing testimonial after testimonial about how these sandals are heaven for your feet, virtually indestructible and perfect for activity of all sorts, I was sold. They are particularly geared toward people who spend a lot of time outdoors because their polyester webbing dries quickly and never fades. The webbing is continuous, aside from the ankle strap, making it possible to adjust the tightness in every area to conform to your foot exactly. The sole offers superb arch support. After months of shopping and stopping at REI to try on various pairs I decided on this style and color and then just waited until I came upon them to pounce. That time came last week at a little store in the city where I've been attending school. My size, my style, my color. My sandals. And because I'm an adult and don't have to wait for my birthday to use my birthday presents, I've been wearing them. We are currently in the breaking in stage, but so far, so good. I think this is the beginning of beautiful friendship.

Last fall, when I was going through my "water makes me sick" phase, I was really trying to figure out a way to keep myself better hydrated. That was when I remembered TLee and family carting around their Camelbaks and decided that a nice water bottle might be worth a try. At $14 a pop, it may seem a little excessive to spend so much on a container for water, but I will tell you that it has been completely worth it. I got mine in my stocking. Thanks Santa *coughmecough*. DH got one as well. Mine's purple. For those who've never seen how they function, that little sipper spout folds down when not in use, keeping it more sanitary and completely leak free. When you do want to sip, you pop the spout up and bite on it a little, opening the slit, and then suck on it like a straw. The design makes it so that unless the bottle is in your mouth with a little pressure applied to the slit, no water can get out. I love it because you can take slow steady draughts without feeling like you're guzzling. Without really realizing how much you're drinking, you take little sips here and there and before you know it, all 24 oz of water is gone! You never have to tip the bottle, it's convenient to carry, and basically ups your cool factor a half of a percent. (This is scientifically proven.) I have stayed much better hydrated since getting my Camelbak. DH hasn't become as big of a fan as I have, but we realized that the slit in his bottle must be a little smaller or something because the flow seems constricted. Maybe he just got a freak bottle and needs a new one. *Note: Camelbak also has a filtered water bottle just like this. The Camelbak "Groove," as it's called, filters your water as you drink and costs $25.00. You do have to replace the filters occasionally, however.

Last fall, in a freak clothing adjusting accident, I ripped my fingernail very badly. Deep down into the pink of the nail it ripped across more than halfway through. First the pain dance, then blood, then wooziness, then cringing and nausea as I had to try to clip it down, which tugged and bent it, then bandages. I had to keep it covered for about two weeks, (and then I super-glued it after that) so I went through a lot of bandages. I must sing the praise of Nexcare fabric bandages, which we happened to have on hand as a result of them recently having been on sale. They conform, adhere and breathe better than any other bandage I've tried. They are soft, so they don't feel like as much of an unweildy hinderance as their plastic-y counterparts. I'm also a fan of the shape. The fact that they provide more adhesive surface on either side of the padding makes it easier to secure them at any odd angle, of which there are many on the human body. I'm a convert. Nexcare gets my business from now on.

If I was told I could only eat one kind of cracker for the rest of my life, I would choose Wheat Thins Crunch Stix. I don't know why an ultimatum like that would ever present itself; It's not like some terrorist is going to destroy all the nation's cracker factories and I have the power to save just one, leaving me the sweat-inducing decision of which to choose. However, if that did happen, I would save the Wheat Thins Crunch Stix factory. (And, hey, maybe they're made in the same factory as regular Wheat Thins, so then I'd be saving multiple varieties!) But I digress.

I really like these crackers. They are super crunchy and fun to eat. I think that most food is probably better when presented in cylindrical form, don't you? Think about it.

So they have multiple varieties, including Fire Roasted Tomato, Chipotle Pepper and Cinnamon Kick, but I prefer good ol' Honey Wheat. These are not particularly low fat, low calorie, or even low sugar (5 g a serving) but I deluded myself into allowing them into my diet this month because the first ingredient is whole wheat flour. They do include .5 g of saturated fat per serving, which is no no, but hey, it was either these or Krispy Kreme, so I still think I made the better choice.

You Get The Picture

2011-04-23T22:52:00.007-06:00

(Gift basket from Mom and Dad, new swimsuits included)

Just Perfect

2011-04-09T15:21:00.011-06:00

Miss T is now a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.

The baptism was really perfect. Things moved along quickly, happened just as they should have, and I felt the Spirit of the Lord so strongly, especially during her confirmation. I am so proud of my T.

I'm also so grateful for DH, who honors his priesthood and baptized our girl. His confirmation blessing was just perfect.

T and her best friend were even baptized on the same day. Perfect.

Thank you so much to all our family and friends who attended. It was a beautiful, perfect, snowy, Spring day.

My Five Year Plan

2011-04-07T16:06:00.006-06:00

I've got three weeks left until my semester is over. I am so excited! I will get a huge portion of my life back.

My last final is on my birthday. Fitting. It will mark more than one ending.

As an update on my progress, I have officially eaten ZERO treats since March 27. I've tried very hard to eliminate refined grains and sugar from my diet and I've been eating, as my friend Sarah likes to call it, "a crap-ton of fruits and vegetables." I've put in five sessions in my running training and so far, so good. I feel powerful. I feel in control.

Except that my scale says I've gained a pound.

Well, screw the scale. I'm in it for health this time. I have put the scale away and refuse to cower to it anymore. It is not my master.

So anyway, I've discovered something about myself. It seems I'm a bit of a late bloomer. When I think of all the time I've wasted hating myself, I feel frustrated and sad. Satan spent what could have been some of the most productive years of my life enslaving me with the idea that I was wimpy, that I was worthless, that I was never meant to do anything important. You'll be lucky if you just survive, he told me. You'd be stupid to try to do more than that. But something is changing inside of me. I'm giving myself some credit. I'm learning to love myself. Dang it, I like who am. And, guess what: I'M STRONG. Raspberries to anyone who says otherwise (Satan!).

I've been thinking a lot lately about things I've always wanted to do, but figured would be too hard for me. As well as believing I was weak, I have also been afflicted with the idea that unless I am perfect at something, or unless I do it just like everyone else does it, I shouldn't even attempt it. Well, raspberries to that too.

I've got a five year plan.

I made a list of five things I've always really wanted to do, but believed were too hard, that I could never accomplish. I've got more than five on my list, but these five are things that I think I can attain in the next five years. Remind me to show you my long term list another time.

By the time I turn 37, I will have:

1 - Graduated from college. The fact that I've been working on this for a year already has boosted my confidence, expanded my perspective and reinforced my desire to be more than I presently am.

2 - Run five miles continuously. Anyone who knows me knows that this would be a gigantic accomplishment for me. I'm working up to it. I should be able to do three by June.

3 - Learned another language. This will most likely be Portuguese as I've got an in-house tutor and support.

4 - Written a novel. I've started and stopped this goal several times, daunted by the task. I have no control over being published, but this book WILL be written.

5 - Learned to oil paint. I have no experience with this, but I used to watch Bob Ross in fascination and wish so badly that I had an opportunity just to try what he was doing.

I'm sure there will be several other mini-goals along the way, but these are the big five.

For the first time in my life, I really believe I can do these things, and what's more, that I will.

I apologize if my posting has been all inspirational speaking lately. One of these days you're going to get a huge long post of pictures and other fun things. This is just what has occupied my mind lately.

Anticipating a Month

2011-03-28T09:42:00.002-06:00

So, things are good.

We had a fantastic weekend celebrating Jord's birthday at TLee's and Jonboy's. (No time for pictures today. Maybe later.) There was cake, there was a horde of kids, there were party games, there was Ninja Destruction. One of my kids barfed in bed, 'tis true, and another one of my kids screamed the night through, alas, but, all in all, it was a great getaway with some of our very favorite people.

Yesterday was March 27. My birthday is April 27.

That gives me a month.

A month to finish my semester. A semester which is going well, but getting old. My dedication is waning and I am, for the first time, behind.

I need to kick things into gear. Get back on track. Discipline myself for one more month.

One of my goals for the next month is to swear off sugar and refined grains completely. No candy, cookies, cakes, pies, white bread, Cheetos, chocolate, etc. for exactly one month. (Naturally occurring sugars, like those found in fruit, are okay.) I can totally do it. Writing it here solidifies the commitment. I have reached an imbalance regarding the types of things I'm putting into my body, and I need a big change to really turn those tables.

I am also going to begin training for a 5k to take place on June 11. I would encourage anyone who is interested in joining me to register at this site and take a look at the cause this run is supporting: helping women in Congo. It is something I feel strongly about. My goal is to be able to run the whole thing, a feat I have never even come close to accomplishing. The furthest I have ever continuously run is 2.2 miles. This will be a real achievement for me if I can do it.

So, I'm hitching up my skirts, girding up my loins, setting my jaw, standing a little taller and all those other metaphors that mean its time to get crackin'.

My mantra is, "Got things to do before 32!"

Tally HO!

Friday Flashback

2011-03-25T18:54:00.007-06:00

When I was in high school Downeast Outfitters was a consignment store, not a brand. We had one in the town where I grew up, squished between a dollar store and a drabby Chinese restaurant located in a little strip mall on the north side of town. I liked to shop there because damaged clothing could be purchased quite inexpensively and I was treading that fine line, like so many adolescents, between wanting to look stylish and having next to no money. I searched out stains in inconspicuous places, seams easily repaired, and once bought a shirt with the tag proclaiming it to be a product of "Abercrombie and Fitch," an entity as of yet unheard of.

One day in the late spring of my Junior year I came across a solid, oatmeal-brown colored sweater. Thickly knit, over-sized and quite shapeless, I fell in love instantly, and became even more enamored with the $6.99 price tag. My heart sank when I discovered a large hole in the left shoulder.

I took the sweater to the register and asked the clerk if they, by chance, would repair the hole. The clerk replied in the affirmative and instructed me to return in an hour, and I happily complied.

Upon my return I was amazed to discover that they had not only patched the hole, I couldn't even determine where it had been. I smugly purchased it with a ten dollar bill, leaving with both the sweater, and change in my pocket.

That would have been 1996.

The sweater has stayed with me through numerous moves, various stages of life, trips and vacations, weight fluctuation and radical surgery.

I wore it in 1996 to the Martin Harris Pageant on my first date with the boy who stripped me of all my innocent preconceptions about boys and their intentions.

I wore it in 1997 on an outcropping of rock as I gazed across the snow-capped Alps of Switzerland and wrote wistful poetry in my journal.

I wore it in 2000 as I returned to visit friends in Connecticut and attend the MTV New Years celebration in New York City.

I wore it in 2001 on my honeymoon in Pismo Beach. March in northern California is not all that warm.

I wore it in 2003 when, thankfully, the weave of the knit was stretchy enough to accommodate my astoundingly huge belly.

I wore it in 2007, when all I wanted was to escape from the oppressively cold January winds of Nebraska. It was like bundling up in a warm blanket, and made me feel like I had a place to hide.

I wore it in 2009, grateful for its baggy forgiveness after yet another tough pregnancy.

I wore it in 2010, longing to drown in its itchy, enveloping folds during those horrible months when I could envision nothing but dark, hazy clouds of depression suffocating me in my bed.

And I'm wearing it today. Fifteen years of warm, comforting, neutral friendship. I've had this sweater so long that I can't even determine if it is fashionable or not, the way the face of a loved one becomes beautiful simply because you cannot disassociate it from your feelings for them. They become what love looks like.

In the end, we all have the capacity to be that beautiful, that trusted, that loved.

My relationship with my sweater shows no signs of letting up. It is the perfect companion for trips because it slides easily over any other shirt, its two buttons never offering up so much as a loose thread.

My $6.99 sweater could have easily been over-looked. Damaged, the ragged edges of a cut-out tag still evident in the neck, and unassumingly plain, I do not wonder that it had not been snatched before my searching eyes imprinted upon it.

Like most good relationships, I wasn't sure just how good I had it at first.

But this sweater has proved itself loyal, enduring, accepting of me regardless of my size, my mood, my location.

And I love my sweater too, in all its boring, brown glory.

A Call...

2011-03-21T21:13:00.002-06:00

Dear Bloggees:

I accidentally erased all the links to everyone with private blogs.

Please Please Please email/comment me your link again.

Thank you.

I also erased all the blogs that hadn't been updated in more than a year. They were clogging up my sidebar. If you have a blog that you update and you don't see it on my sidebar, send me the link to that too!

Thank you.

Not Two But One

2011-03-20T16:18:00.008-06:00

^That's what it says on the inside of DH's wedding ring. It was a line from the poem he used to propose to me.

I gave him that ring 10 years ago. DH and I celebrated a decade of marriage last week.

We had been planning for years to take a tropical vacation for our tenth anniversary, but my decision to go to school kind of ate up those funds.

We decided instead to go somewhere swanky for dinner. We had heard the french restaurant La Caille was very nice, so we made reservations.

When we got there, we discovered it was VERY nice. Truly, it was the most divine food I've ever put in my mouth. I had lobster bisque (garnished with caviar) and lamb. My entree looked just like this:

DH and I then split a dessert sampler. We ate by candlelight, sat by a gorgeous fire, our waitress de-crumbed our table between courses and the bread was simply the most perfect bread I've ever had.

I've debated whether or not it's appropriate to tell you the amount of our bill. Because this place is so classy and classy people apparently don't discuss money, but since I'm not quite classy, I'll compromise by giving you a comparison:

Burger King = $

Chili's = $$

Market Street Grill = $$$

La Caille = $$$$$$$$$$

Happy Anniversary.

We consoled ourselves with the knowledge that it still cost significantly less than a tropical vacation.

We also consoled ourselves with the next best thing, The Hawaiian Hideaway room at The Anniversary Inn.

This is us in our bamboo bed, fat and happy after our fancy dinner.

The room was awesome, painted to look like it was on an island. There was a big tub, a waterfall shower, and the bed built in a grass hut.

We slept in, ate cookies and croissants, drank sparkling cider and lounged around until check out at noon. It was delicious in every sense.

Then we spent several hours at the Home and Garden show. It was actually very fun.

That evening we went to Johnny Corrino's. Not quite La Caille, but they did have Italian sodas.

After dinner we headed to The Hale Center theater where we saw the musical "A Tale of Two Cities," which is also one of my favorite books. It affected me so strongly that I couldn't stop crying until we were in the car. I felt dumb, but it was awesome.

The whole celebration was just perfect, and I was most happy to be alone with my best friend the whole time. After ten years, I've never been more sure about anything than I am that I picked the most awesome guy to marry. I'm so glad he picked me too.

We are also so grateful to grandma T who was able to come stay with the kids, and to Reese's Pieces who lent me hot clothes and sexy heels so I wouldn't feel like a shmuck at the restaurant. The shoes kind of backfired since they were so pointy and the tile floors were slick and uneven. Looking like a shmuck was not avoided, but I looked totally hot while sitting.

Eight is Great

2011-03-10T08:12:00.003-07:00

I tried to avoid the cliche title, but the fact of that matter is, Eight IS Great! T had an awesome party, celebrating with her friends on Saturday, then going out that evening with Grandpa N and our family to a cool restaurant where she watched acrobats and got cake with a sparkler candle.

On Sunday, her actual birthday, she wore her new dress that Grandpa N let her pick out and received her very own scriptures from me and DH. After church we all headed to Auntie M's where G&G B and others were gathered, and had a delicious dinner (with chinese noodle salad, per T's request). Reeses Pieces made a fabulous cake, which I would show you but has T's name scrawled in big letters. I will say, this made from scratch chocolate cherry cake with almond buttercream frosting and adorable fondant roses was a masterpiece, both for the eyes and the taste buds.

I'm so proud of the little woman T is becoming. She has such a tender, compassionate heart and truly desires above else to do what is right. She is a kind friend, a fierce cuddler, a laugh lover, and a beautiful, good girl. I'm so grateful Heavenly Father sent her to our family and that she is around to set such a good example for her brother and sister. I just adore my little T.

A Trip Around the World

2011-03-08T10:37:00.009-07:00

Hello Friends, and welcome to our international trip of delights. Our crew members tell us we have a special birthday girl on board with a bunch of her friends and that she is celebrating her eighth birthday. Happy Birthday from all of us here at H airlines. Grab your passports and enjoy your trip!

Konichiwa! Welcome to Japan!

Here you'll learn the ancient art of Japanese paper folding, Origami, while relaxing to the sounds of traditional Japanese flute music. Follow our guide as she teaches you how to make a fish. Great job, everybody!

Now let's decorate some boxes with traditional koi fish stickers. Don't forget to put your names on them! Hmm, we need something to fill those boxes. Pack up, everyone, it's time to travel.

Ola, amigoes! Back up and give each other some room! Let that mariachi band move you as we try to find the treasures inside that pinata! Oh, nice hit! Grab the candy and fill those boxes.

All this fun has worked up an appetite. Let's take to the skies once more as we make our way to..

Bonjorno! Don't forget to mark your passports while the chef prepares your ingredients.

Mama Mia, those are some lovely pizza pies!

Those pizzas need to cook. How about a quick detour to lovely...

Bonjour. Welcome to France! J'adore la ski nautique! Pomplamousse!

Indulge yourself in some luxuriant feather boas while our guide gives you all french manicures. That's right, your guide is going to paint 60 nails in 10 minutes!

My, what gorgeois little mademoiselles.

Now back to Italy for our pizza!

And as a special treat for our birthday girl, we have cake and ice cream. Happy Birthday!

I see some of our guests have brought gifts for the birthday girl. Why don't we see what she got?

Wow, you all did splendidly at picking out thoughtful gifts. Looks like she loves them all. Thank you so much!

But wait, the trip isn't over. Time to return to the good old US of A for a little American Idol.

What's that, you're all feeling shy? No one wants to be first? That's no problem. Our lovely guide will show you how it's done.

Goodness, what amazing singers you all are. You're all going to Hollywood!

Well, it looks like our trip has come to end. We hope you've enjoyed your time with us and that you like your many souvenirs. Thanks for traveling with us, and have a nice day. Bye, now. Buh-bye. Bye. Bye. Buh-bye. Bye now.

Friday Flashback

2011-02-25T15:41:00.003-07:00

Those of you who follow my blog (and let's face it, I'm pretty sure my readers are those loyal few who have been with me from the beginning) may recall this post from January 2010. I had declared 2010 the Year of Change and had created a year long To Do list. I was tired, flabby, depressed, and feeling stuck. I vowed at the end of that post to show you my completed list when the year was over.

So, a couple of months late (this IS Friday Flashback, after all) I am fulfilling my promise.

What is important to note is that 2010 was indeed a great year of change for me, but I ended up taking opportunities that were as yet unplanned when I made my To Do list. Therefore, my focus was shifted significantly in some areas. For example, I had huge plans to write. I did do a lot of writing, but it was mostly literary analysis instead of fiction.

Here is the list as it stood at the end of 2010:

My temple attendance was lacking. I went only 7 times. That was, however, 5 more times than I went the previous year. Improvement!

I only fasted 4 times. Fasting is a really hard one for me. The most difficult part is remembering to get started. I usually show up to church on fast Sunday, see that they are holding testimony meeting and go, "Oh man!" These 4, however, were 4 more times than I fasted the previous year. Improvement!

I read the Book of Mormon and Jesus the Christ, but didn't quite finish either of them (blush).

I only read one other spiritually-themed book. No excuses there.

I read 45 books in 2010. I am satisfied with this number. Fiction writing got put on the back burner when I decided in March to return to college and finish my degree. I also joined the organization Bloomsbury, which provided opportunities for learning and writing. I definitely wrote in 2010, but it wasn't the kind of stuff I was keeping track of.

I had struggled in 2010 with sitting around being unsocial, so I had decided I had to instigate at least two social gatherings a month. I did this for the first few months and then found that by summer my social life had taken care of itself. I was suddenly over-scheduled!

I think 14 dates with DH is probably about correct, give or take. We also took one short family vacation in May in addition to family reunions in the summer.

I had no problem trying 16 new recipes. I'm sure I tried more than that. I cooked a lot in 2010.

I dropped 11 pounds in 2010, which is less than I was hoping for, but hey, it's improvement! DH and I dropped our gym membership early in the year and started doing Power90 instead, so the number of workouts was significantly more than recorded.

As far as projects, I did a bunch of things, the biggest ones being creating my own cookbook and, of course, going to school. Though it wasn't on my To Do list, I completed 12 college credits in 2010.

Let it not be said I never fulfilled my promise to update you on my list.

The End.

All Things Valentine

2011-02-15T10:00:00.004-07:00

2011 Checklist:

Flowers: Check (Thank you, DH)

Chocolate: Triple Check (Brownies, Fondue AND boxed chocolates)

Home Decor: Check (This is the shadow from some of the decorations in our front window)

Valentines for classmates and Boxes to receive with: Check

Sickness: Check

Kisses: RainCheck (see above)

Dates: On the Calendar (DH and Joni, Joni and R, DH and T)

Time to Get Back On the Wagon...

2011-02-09T22:55:00.000-07:00

A little holiday indulgence goes a long way.

Bye bye Baby

2011-02-03T09:36:00.007-07:00

As anticipated, this post is late. My baby turned two years old two weeks ago.

Because January was CRAZY and because two year olds just don't care much, we didn't stress hard about having a celebration. We did try to make it somewhat memorable however.

We ate some of E's favorite foods for dinner (at 7 PM, after DH coached basketball and T went to piano lessons). We had pizza and Doritos.

After spilled lemonade and a quick shirt change, we pulled out the (store bought) cake. It wasn't until after cake shots that we realized there was a smudge on the lens. Oh well. She blew out each candle, covering the cake in a healthy layer of saliva.

We all indulged in some so-so cake. I believe this actually qualified as a party because we had guests, E's friend N and her mother, who watches my kids each day while I go to school (Thanks Al!).

With the last 20 minutes before bedtime we cranked up the NSync and had a dance party.

I love this shot as it shows the motion of E head-banging.

T and R pulled out their best dance moves and taught us all a thing or two. This was followed up by a rousing game of Follow the Leader, after which bedtime was declared. The children's protestations were proof that it doesn't take any planning whatsoever to throw a fun party!

Even though she can be an absolute PILL, I'm so grateful for my little E. When she was born, I remember thinking she was just the definition of sweetness, and, in her own way, she still is. She loves to explore and has no fear, but she doesn't have a malicious bone in her little body. She loves to be as independent as possible, give hugs when people are sad, listen to stories, eat pickles and lemons, and imitate everyone in the family. She's a nifty little singer and has embraced using words, although we still can't understand many of them. At her two year doctor appointment she was in the 95% for height and 50% for weight. I'm so grateful for her little spirit. She's my little buddy.

And with that, I bid a not-so-fond adieu to January. DH has worked crazy hours all month, getting home at 11 or midnight many evenings, while keeping up with basketball, teaching Sunday School and helping me keep the house liveable. I've been driving 1.5 hours round trip to school 4 days a week, driving to the elementary school 3 times a day, keeping kids fed, clean, homework done, throwing laundry in the washer at 11 PM and doing all my homework after the kids were in bed. I am grateful that we got through it all without any major breakdowns, but it was still an effort just to get through.

Through it all, DH and I still managed to make it to the temple and go on a date sponsored by his boss, who told him to take his wife "somewhere nice." His boss also sent me flowers, in thanks for so generously lending my husband this month.

The flowers are nice, but I'd rather have my husband.

Hello February. We can do this.

Take What You Can Get

2011-01-17T09:41:00.009-07:00

The Christmas break came just in time. My last semester went well and I got a 4.0 (woohoo!) but toward the end I was feeling some stress. In fact, I was so eager to get my relaxation on that I didn't sweat taking pictures. So you'll have to take what you can get from what I could scrape up. And let's just overlook the fact that I'm not getting to this post until MLK day. Get used to it. This semester is going to be crazy.

A few days before Christmas my sister Sambo and her husband and youngest daughter came from St. Louis to stay with us. We had them here for Christmas morning, along with my parents, and it was fun to have the kids' cousin with us for Santa's arrival. She and T got matching outfits from Santa. These girls are exactly 1 month apart.

Christmas morning was great! DH got me a new camera! Woot. Unfortunately, I haven't used it much at all. As I previously stated, taking pictures has not been high on my priority list. I was able to surprise DH by getting one of his prized paintings framed. He had them done on his mission by a painter who specializes in church reproduction paintings. He had three made and we've been waiting until we had the funds to frame them. I was able to get the one of Christ framed without breathing a hint of it to him. He was surprised and pleased (yeah, he cried). Come over some time and see it.

On the 26 we went to my parents house for an authentic Mexican dinner. My parents have been teaching English to the Mexican immigrants in their area, so they were taught how to make tamales and "Guatemalan Wassail" (made from plantains!). Before dinner my sisters and I happened upon my mother's wig collection-

And then, by holiday mandate, we played games. T even found a few words in Boggle that the rest of us missed!

The next day we headed over to DH's dad's house. The kids were pretty excited when they saw the size of their gifts.

Thanks for the Pillow Pets, Grandpa! And thanks for the really nice knives. They are very, very sharp! (I've only cut myself once.)

That night everyone made the pilgrimage to DH's dad's extended family Christmas party. They looked at slides of when DH and all his cousins were just kids acting out the nativity. Then the next generation took a turn.

E got jealous of baby Jesus' sweet manger and helped herself while unsanctimoniously gouging his eye out.

I, actually, was not in attendance because I wasn't feeling well. It looked like a great time, though.

We spent most of that week at DH's mom's house, mostly playing Kinect on the XBox. I must say, it is pretty dang cool. I loved dancing with A and TLee and especially loved watching Jord dance! I spent one morning perfecting the Bust a Move routine. Aw Yee-ah. The kids love staying at Grandma's house and we all feel comfy and at home there. We also, as always, played a lot of games, especially while TLee and Jonboy were there.

Of course, we had to get together with Dandi and Stanny while Stanny was in town.

Note: This is a horrible angle for pictures. I had to crop this one to avoid, what Dr. Dandi called, the "whale in skinny jeans" look. It was not a flattering shot for anyone. We did, however, have a great time eating Swedish meatballs and playing Word on the Street.

The weekend brought the first ever Sisters' Retreat for my four sisters, my mother and me. We stayed at Auntie M's, worked on a quilt, watched movies and talked about everything under the sun. It was so fun to be all together. DH stayed at his mom's with the kids. Thanks DH.

One day we drove down to Salt Lake and did a session at the Salt Lake temple. This was a very enjoyable time, though we had to remove ourselves from the Celestial Room because we didn't think it was appropriate that we couldn't stop laughing.

On the way there we hijacked Auntie M's camera while she ducked into a beauty supply. Auntie M was sweet enough to send me the photo I took of myself.

It was a COLD day at the temple. My poor sister R, who lives in Southern California, was especially uncomfortable.

We also had dinner at the Joseph Smith Memorial Building at that restaurant on the top floor. I can't remember what it's called.

All of us together!

We spent New Years Eve together and Sambo's older girls were able to come from their Dad's long enough for us to visit with them.

It was a long, fun, holiday and I was relieved for it to begin and for it to end. I got a couple of days to breathe before school started again.

Now we're in the middle of what we've been mentally preparing ourselves for for months. Last week was grueling, with DH working well past bedtime each night, while being sick, but we're making it and God is blessing us beyond measure. Life is good!

I'll Get You, My Pretty

2011-01-05T17:39:00.002-07:00

Today was the first day of school.

For those of you unaware, this semester I transferred schools because while eight of the ten classes I needed to graduate upon my adult onset schooling were available through the distance education program of the school I'll be graduating from, I must acquire those last two at some local school and transfer them back. Long sentence, anyone? Anyway, this is the dreaded semester in which I'll be taking those two classes. The classes themselves are not dreaded, but the fact that the only two classes offered at this school that fill the requirements at the old school are offered on different days, so I have to drive 45 minutes (in good weather) to and from this school four days a week so I can attend one class each day. This is beginning to sound like a math story problem.

I have child care lined up for the semester, and while the commute is a bit of a beast, I'm taking advantage of that time by catching up on my leisurely "reading" with audiobooks.

So today was my first day of school. And there was one shockingly overwhelming theme to the trip.

I am old.

I knew there would be an age discrepancy between me and my fellow students and thought I had mentally prepared myself, but I was not counting on walking onto that campus and feeling ancient. I swear the place was swarming with high school freshman. These people were just babies!

When I finally found my classroom (much more daunting than I had anticipated) the witch complex kicked in. I seriously felt like the hunchbacked old cackler offering up shiny apples of friendship to my classmates, which they apparently took to be poisoned, because no was interested. Oh well. Give them time.

Even though I've already completed two semesters since I decided to return to school, stepping foot in this classroom felt distinctively different. I honestly wasn't expecting to feel so.. separate.

Of course, some things felt comfortingly familiar. My professor is exactly as any Women's Lit professor might be expected to be: a free-haired liberal with a house full of animals. Of course, I don't actually know that her personal beliefs fall on the side of liberal yet, but she certainly fits the stereotype, which suits me just fine. I do know she has a house full of animals. She seems delightful and I look forward to the class.

Tomorrow I get to do it all again, meeting a new professor and another classful of babies.

Well, babies, get ready for mama. This old witch is gonna curl your toes with sheer awesomeness.

Book Review 2010

2011-01-01T11:29:00.002-07:00

My grand total of books read in 2010 was 45. A few of these were associated with my schooling, but most of them weren't. Instead of giving a rundown on every single book, I think I'll carry on with tradition and list the standouts.

Without my planning it, this became the year of the series. I read the Hunger Games trilogy by Suzanne Collins, the Gemma Doyle trilogy by Libba Bray, the first two Dragon Girl books by Stieg Larsson and the last two Fablehaven books by Brandon Mull. My award for best series read, however, goes to the Mistborn trilogy by Brandon Sanderson. These books had a SciFi/Fantasy flair, and by the time I closed the last page of the last book I was astounded. It was such a cleverly constructed, character-driven, awe-inspiring EPIC story. It blew me away. If speculative fiction is not your thing, then you may have trouble getting into it, but I found the whole series fascinating from start to finish.

My award for best YA fiction, which I read a fair amount of, goes to the Skinjacker series by Neal Shusterman. I only read the first two books because they are all that is currently available, but I found the premise intriguing, the plot engaging and I anxiously await the next book.

My favorite non-fiction book of the year was Columbine by Dave Cullen. My esteem of the author grew further when he actually left a comment on my blog to thank me for including his book in my reading list for the year. Very cool! (If you'd like to see it look at my November 22 post.) This book revealed all the details, including extensive biography on the two teenage shooters, of the school shooting at Columbine High School. Though the topic was somewhat macabre, I was truly fascinated with the background info and appreciated the greater understanding of psychopathy Cullen presented.

The oldest book I read was Robinson Crusoe by Daniel DeFoe, which is supposedly the oldest English novel in existence. Standards as to what constitutes good fiction have changed over the last few centuries. It was pretty "meh."

My favorite classic of the year was A Room of One's Own by Virginia Woolf. So many 'Aha' moments delivered from such a keen mind. I should add as a side note in this category the fact that I also read quite a bit of Shakespeare, which I adored, but Shakespeare is kind of in a class all his own and no one else can really be expected to compare. Plus, plays and novels are difficult to judge against each other.

A runner up in my Overall Favorites category was The Speed of Dark by Elizabeth Moon. Told in the future from the perspective of an autistic young man, this book was at once enlightening and entertaining.

My favorite Stand-Alone book of the year was The Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls. This book is a memoir that reads like fiction. I was immediately drawn in and could not put it down. Walls' life experiences are, to me, jaw-dropping and completely fascinating.

And now we begin a new year. I will probably not have as much time for leisurely reading this year, but we'll see where we end up. Clean slate. Bring it on. Watch for an update on how I did on last year's resolutions.

May Your Days Be Merry and Bright

2010-12-22T11:43:00.004-07:00

Here are some of my favorites from out latest photo session with TLee. It was COLD, so the session was quick. I think she did a great job at capturing personalities.

Friday Flashback

2010-12-17T11:24:00.004-07:00

As I sat reflecting on Christmases past I generated a memory I hadn't thought of in quite some time.

Middle school was a tough time for me, as I believe it is for most kids. That transformation from innocence to self-awareness is brutal. Looking back, I realize that I began exhibiting some of my depressive tendencies as early as the sixth grade, which is when this flashback took place.

I found sixth grade to be a difficult sea to navigate. I now had five separate teachers instead of just one. Several pools of elementary school kids had been dumped into one big lake and I was out of my comfort zone. I became extraordinarily self-conscious. Boys were suddenly becoming quite fascinating. Homework was being assigned. I had to ride the bus. It was all new territory.

I remember one December day walking into my art class and inexplicably beginning to cry. I was overwhelmed by my emotions and honestly didn't understand them. All I knew was that I couldn't control it. It was extremely embarrassing. I've had that feeling many times since and understand that this is sometimes how I react to stress. Whatever the case, my teacher noticed my tears and ushered me out into the hallway. She was very concerned. Tenderly, she asked me what was wrong.

I didn't know.

That made me feel very stupid. At the time I didn't know how to articulate that I just felt sad. Or overwhelmed, or whatever it was that had brought on the waterworks. She was looking for a reason and I felt obligated to give her one.

So I lied. I don't know where I came up with this response, but I told her I was sad because I didn't have any money to buy my family Christmas presents. I mean, we're talking real Hallmark movie kind of stuff. I was amazed and embarrassed at my lie, but she totally bought it.

The truth is, I don't think that up to that point I had given any thought to giving my family Christmas presents. They were supposed to give to me, right? Who really expects presents from their sixth grader? I was pretty sure this was not actually what I was sad about.

But oh, did it make me appear the noble, poverty-stricken child. My teacher, who no doubt looked at this as a golden opportunity to really make a difference in some poor child's life, helped me come up with a project to make to give to my family for Christmas. She waived all my school assignments for the next week so that I could work on my "gift" during class. I ended up using a projector to magnify a little Precious Moments angel picture onto a poster board, which I then traced and tinted with colored chalk. It turned out okay, but I thought Precious Moments were kind of dumb and I really didn't know what my parents were going to do with this big poster. When I first told my little fib I had thought my teacher would pat my shoulder and send me back to class. I felt guilty (and, I'll admit it, a tad smug) working on this project in class, not having to do the regular assignments and receiving special treatment, based on a lie.

I was embarrassed to give my parents the poster. I didn't like it, and I didn't think they would like it, but I felt obligated to do it. I don't remember what happened to it. They probably hung it up somewhere and then threw it away after a while. I remember looking back on the whole experience and finding it bizarre, thinking, "man, how did that happen?"

As I've aged I've come to recognize when my feelings are not necessarily connected to rational stimulus. I've had public breakdowns that are no less embarrassing, but I'm at least able to express that I'm just responding to stress and those around me should just be patient until I can calm myself down.

Of course, sometimes I really truly am upset about something.

So I'm grateful for that compassionate teacher who did her best to not brush off what looked to her like a genuinely distraught student. Even though I totally played her, I'm glad for the experience because it taught me that there are good teachers out there who really do care about the kids they teach.

I hope that lady is having a Merry Christmas somewhere. I can't even remember her name.

Product Review

2010-12-12T21:48:00.006-07:00

I get positive comments about my product reviews, so I figured we were due for another.

When we and our friends went on our Santa Barbara trip in September we were on the search for tasty snacks, disregarding health content completely. We picked up some Keebler Cheesecake Middles at the grocery store, and I have to say I was pretty impressed. These are pretty high class cookies for being Keebler. If you like the flavor of cheesecake, I highly recommend giving these a try. They aren't gourmet, but they seem to fill a cheap dessert niche that was open in the market. Just don't look at the caloric value and you'll be a happy camper.

And on those occasions when you feel like making cookies instead of buying them, I must tell you that Doughmakers pans are the only way I roll when it comes to baked goods. These are more pricey than your average cookie sheet or pie tin, but they make everything come out perfectly, distributing heat evenly and never burning the bottom of your goods. The secret, apparently, is in the pebbled texture, which somehow provides perfect cookies, rolls, biscuits and pie crusts. They come in a variety of pan shapes. I've got a small cookie sheet, a large cookie sheet and two pie tins. I got hooked on them when DH worked at that specialty kitchen store when we were first married. Hint: Hand washing them keeps them much nicer much longer.

Growing up, holidays always meant having nuts in the house. But they eventually went home. Ba-doom-Ching! But seriously folks, my family likes to eat nuts. My mom always bought big bags of mixed nuts still in their shells and would put them out on the table with nutcrackers. I was always frustrated because my favorites were Brazil nuts and those suckers were tough to crack! These days I leave the work to the nut companies and buy all my nuts shelled. I really enjoy almonds, and usually have raw almonds on hand. They're a great source of protein and healthy fats. I splurged one day, however, when I found Emerald brand Cocoa Roast Almonds. It's like having chocolate covered almonds without feeling like you're eating candy. They aren't as sweet as chocolate covered almonds and preserve more of the almond flavor. I find them delightful, but only a few at a time. The cocoa starts losing its savor if you eat them in large quantities. This is a definite must-try if you're a nut lover.

I told DH a while back that I really wanted a new wallet for Christmas. The one I was using had originally been purchased as a temporary placeholder until I found another one I really liked, but I ended up using it for several years. My little E, a.k.a. "The Destroyer," was constantly finding it and scattering all my valuable items about. I found this cute wallet on Etsy and although I found $12.00 a little pricey, I like supporting small businesses and having hand-made items. I ended up just buying it for myself and I've been using it for a couple of months now. The change needed to happen before Christmas. The things I love about it are that it links onto my keys so A) my vital items are always together B)I don't lose my keys as easily and C) E can't undo the snap. DH was concerned that I wouldn't like it because it would mean my wallet was always hitting my knee as it hung off my keys while I drove, but it doesn't bother me. The only downside might be that it only has one pocket, so my drivers license, credit cards and cash are all shoved in the slot together, but that hasn't proven to be a problem. So far the pros outweigh the cons, and the seller sent it promptly, so that was a plus. If you like this wallet she has has huge selection in a variety of cute fabrics.

Because my sister owns a salon, I get most of my haircare products from her. However, sometimes if I can't drive the hour to see her or I want to use less expensive products on my kids, I opt for things I can get at the grocery store. I like aerosol hairspray, and figured Aussie brand would be better quality than something like White Rain or Suave (which turn to white flakes in your hair and don't hold well) without breaking the bank. Well, this hairspray holds well and smells really good. The only problem is that the nozzle is so crappy I now have a 1/3 of a can left that I'll never use becuase I can't dispense it! Every now and then aerosol nozzles get a little clogged and you have to clean them, but this can is clogged somewhere within the internal mechanism of the nozzle. Not a bad product, Aussie, but get a better can!

So, as I mentioned in a previous post, I started a new antidepressant. I've been on it for over a month now and things are going okay. I seem to be fairly emotionally balanced (hey, I made it through Thanksgiving, Finals and four weeks of my kids being off track without a major breakdown) but there are physical side effects. I'm super tired, I don't sleep well, I get acne breakouts and I feel just the slightest bit nauseated most of the time. This last is not entirely bad. I have dropped a couple of pounds just because food doesn't sound as good to me. I'm not exercising currently ,(did I mention these meds make me super tired) but I'm just not eating as much. Unfortunately, however, one of the items that I have the greatest aversion to is water. Yes, life-sustaining, completely necessary H2O. There have been days I go to bed realizing I've had nothing to drink all day. Needless to say, this is not healthy. Soda has even lost its appeal for me, which isn't a bad thing. Fruity flavored juices are usually what I turn to, but those calories add up fast. My favorite drink is SoBe Cranberry Grapefruit, but at 260 calories a bottle, I can't afford to indulge in that very often. My favorite zero calorie drink right now is Yumberry Pomegranate SoBe Lifewater. I'm still trying to drink water when I can, but the Lifewater helps me stay more hydrated than I normally would be. It's great tasting without being too sweet, like what Gatorade wants to be but isn't.

*My bonus review today is a post script to a previous product review. Some of you will remember the discussion about dishwasher soap. I had tried Costco liquid and found it lacking. Many of you suggested Cascade and some of you said you liked the power packs. I got a package of these and found that it was leaving gritty residue behind and often white powdery streaks. It was worse than the liquid! I then purchased some rinse aid and refilled the dispenser and now those power packs are working great. So, it has been established that the Cascade power packs are good ONLY if you have a full dispenser of rinse aid.

I Flip My Latkes in the Air Sometimes

2010-12-07T12:54:00.004-07:00

This post is dedicated to my 5 year old nephew r who apparently thinks we should be celebrating Hanukkah in addition to Christmas.

I found this video particularly entertaining for the following reasons:
- It provides educational info concerning Jewish religious beliefs
- The music is catchy and I love to work out to the original song of which this is a parody, Dynamite.
- I can appreciate me some good A Cappella.
- I found out that the first soloist is a poster on a web forum I used to frequent. So I almost almost know him.

Hopefully this serves as a good content substitute for my blog this week as I'm up to my eyeballs in finals. Four more days. I think I can. I think I can.

Let's Get Together, Yeah Yeah Yeah (In Couplets)

2010-11-28T20:46:00.005-07:00

Nearly 10 years of marriage, is it absurd
That I made it that long without cooking a bird?

November of '10 brought the fortuitous days
When we hosted Thanksgiving, a first, at our place.

We purchased a turkey, 17 pounds of goodness
We cleaned and we planned, assigning out foodness.

The tom nestled within the cool fridge to thaw
For four days he stayed there, so he could be raw.

But alas, on the morning of, bits were still frozen.
I started to panic, in a bunch were my hose-n.

DH was speedily making a call
A 24 hour hotline, Butterball.

The bird was instructed to take a quick bath.
And the day was saved, no more frost did he hath.

I tenderly gave that old thing a massage
With rosemary, basil and oil and Voila!

We stuck Mr. Turkey inside a big bag.
He cooked like a champ. Much relief was then had.

The potatoes, the stuffing and gravy surviving,
We cook-ed like fiends and the guests were arriving.

A mixed bunch we had, but oh it was pleasant
As we filled ourselves full of the feast and the pheasant.

We dined (or perhaps I should say stuffed?) together
And all felt quite cozy in spite of the weather.

When each belly was bursting and dishes were done
We cleared out the tables and then had some fun.

There was chatting and games, so much joy to be had.
I won Apples to Apples, and felt smugly glad.

Before long we broke out the gaggle of pies
And soon the house filled with more gut-busted sighs.

The horizon then darkened and eyes started drooping.
It was time to dissemble this enchanted grouping.

We all hugged good-bye with our belts one notch looser.
Could it have gone any better, No, no sir!

A special thanks goes out to my partner in crime
Whom I'm thankful for most every day, every time.

When the door finally shut and the guests were all driving.
We put up our feet and thanked God for surviving.

And that was not all for which we were so grateful.
For when it comes to blessings, I've got a whole plate full.

Let's Get Physical

2010-11-22T08:16:00.002-07:00

Well, I can announce 100% success on last week's goal of flossing daily. It feels good. My dentist told me that regular flossing might hold a couple of cavities I've got brewing at bay. I will try to do my best to continue.

I've been on my new anti-depressant for two weeks now. I was really afraid of what side effects I may experience and there is good news and bad on that front. On the good side, I haven't experienced some of the really intolerable side effects that some other meds have given me, like severe head-aches, nausea or constipation. On the bad side, I have noticed almost constant fatigue, appetite changes and acne. The fatigue and appetite changes make it extremely difficult to exercise and eat right. Vegetables sound nauseating. Potato chips sound gooood.

This is really frustrating as I had decided I was really going to put forth another huge effort in the weight loss department. I just don't know what to do. There is no obvious right answer in my scenario.

I have noticed, however, that my lack of exercise has left my muscles feeling tight and achy. So my bite-sized goal this week is that I'm going to stretch every day. Perhaps this focus will even help me get back into the habit of regular exercise.

I've got a really busy week, and finals right around the corner, but I shall not neglect you all. I've got another product review in the works!

Monday Monday

2010-11-15T12:56:00.002-07:00

So I kind of like this idea of creating weekly goals. They're short term enough that success is attainable and results are quick but long term enough that they may actually be challenging. Bite-sized goals.

My last goal was a little challenging, but I was glad I did it.

This week: I'm going to floss every day.

My Head is Spinning

2010-11-11T21:47:00.002-07:00

Because it is something that has always bothered me I will begin this post with a little public service announcement.

Yes. Again.

The term "flu" is short for "influenza," which is a virus that affects your respiratory system. Common flu symptoms include fever, chills, body aches, sore throat and cough. "Gastroenteritis" is what is known more commonly as the "stomach flu." The two, however, are not interchangeable and have nothing to do with one another. I am continually irritated when people get an intestinal illness and then say, "I don't get it; I got my flu shot!" Dear People, the flu shot is to ward off influenza. It will not prevent gastroenteritis. Though it is acceptable to dub your tummy bug the "stomach flu," I generally avoid the term as to not perpetuate this confusion.

I usually use the term "stomach virus," or "the pukes," as in, "I had the pukes all day yesterday which completely knocked me out and now, even though I can eat, I'm so weak and dehydrated that today was entirely shot as well."

File that one under "Complaints."

Don't Speak

2010-11-08T09:03:00.004-07:00

Okay, time for an update on my week of non-complaining.

I learned a lot this week. I learned about the nature and intricacies of "complaining."

I realized very quickly that it would have been useful to have established a working definition of "complaining" beforehand. The lines began to blur almost immediately as I realized there were quite a few modes of speaking that could possibly be construed as complaining. I also realized that tone of voice and attitude have an awful lot to do with whether something constitutes a complaint or not. I could say, "I'm going to bed. I'm SO tired," and it could sound pretty whiny. But I could also say, "I'm going to bed because I'm pretty tired." Not really a complaint, just informative.

This distinction would have been useful seeing as how when I began this endeavor I was determined to just not say anything negative or anything that might be considered a focus on my misfortune. This ended up kind of back-firing on me, as I just bottled up every negative emotion. I stifled one of my most deeply-rooted characteristics; I stopped communicating.

Not complaining during the days wasn't that difficult, but as soon as DH got home each evening I found myself biting my tongue a lot. On Tuesday he walked in the door and asked, "how was your day?" I couldn't think of a thing to say that wouldn't qualify as a complaint. I was full of frustration and stress. I remained silent.

On Friday I spent the day with TLee and through the course of our conversations realized I let slip quite a few comments that could be defined as complaints: Stories of how I'd been hurt in the past or of my frustration with situations I didn't know how to control.

The week itself was extremely busy and I felt like a juggler with too many balls in the air. I was determined to do my best and put into practice the adage that "no misfortune is so bad that it cannot be made worse by complaining about it." My stress level sky-rocketed, but I was eager to prove that I could hold it together, make the best of it and power through.

On Friday evening, one of my balls dropped. I was supposed to drive TLee and my friend Shan to our Bloomsbury forum and Shan was going to meet us at my house. TLee and I had managed to both forget our phones while running errands and we got home to find that Shan had been sitting on my porch for an hour and a half.

I broke. I felt AWFUL. I broke into tears and could not. make them. stop. I finally pulled myself together and we went to the forum where things were pretty close to normal. I made it through the evening and even stopped myself mid-complaint when a few people were commiserating together.

On Saturday I had an all out break-down. Instead of venting I stayed in bed and avoided my family. The whole day was pretty much a waste.

Yesterday I was really hungry and only managed to say so once or twice, which was still a victory.

So I didn't manage to make it through the week without a single complaint, but I also didn't manage to improve anything through my efforts. Not that I think it wasn't a useful exercise. It made me more aware of who and what I tend to complain most about and to whom (DH). I think when it comes to out and out whining it taught me that I don't have to voice every single thing. It taught me that HOW you say something can be a complaint just as much as WHAT you say. But it also taught me that I HAVE to communicate how I feel or I implode. This endeavor set off my balance just a little too much.

And on that note, I'm beginning a brand new anti-depressant today, which I'm terrified of beginning but feel I have no choice at this point. Here's hoping the side effects are tolerable and the medication itself provides the needed benefits.

Pick a Little, Talk a Little

2010-11-01T09:23:00.006-06:00

I only have a few minutes to write this morning, but I wanted to inform you all of an experiment I'm trying this week.

There is a truth about myself I've long known, but little addressed.

I'm a complainer.

Yes, since childhood I seem to have perfected the art of whining. I offer up apologies to those of you who know me well enough that you're nodding your heads right now.

I thought about it all day yesterday, trying to determine what my motivation is for always making known any discomfort or stress I'm experiencing.

I know that as a youth I was hungry for attention. I used to wear band-aids where no owie was present and bend paper-clips into "retainers" which I then wore on my teeth for unbelieving audiences. I faked sick and really milked it when I actually was sick.

I think for me now, however, getting attention is a much smaller motivation. Don't get me wrong, I still love attention, but I think I've established some more mature (though perhaps only just) methods of getting it.

No, I really think that the main reason I complain is because, to put a fine point on it, I'm looking for excuses. I feel that if others know that I have a headache or that my feet hurt or that I've cleaned up 12 pukes in 24 hours or that the car needs an expensive repair then my less than optimal behavior, my frustration or brattiness, will get less criticism than it normally would. I'm hoping sympathy for my plight will excuse some of my bad behavior.

But it hit me recently that I am clearly not the only one who has bad moments or days. I am not the only one with headaches or hurting feet. Everyone is busy. Everyone is tired.

And, frankly, no one wants to hear about it.

So, while I don't think I can just permanently root out this inborn characteristic of myself, I want to see if I can go one week without a single complaint. If my back is bothering me, I'll deal with it. If the kids are fighting, I'll just keep on keepin' on.

I'm going to go until next Monday morning without whining or complaining about anything. I'm making a conscious effort. I want to see how this change will affect me, my attitude, and the feelings of those around me.

I'll update you all in a week and tell you how it turns out. No excuses.

Here goes....

He Will, He Will, ROCK YOU

2010-10-30T12:42:00.003-06:00

DH found out that his office was giving away movie theater vouchers to everyone who dressed up for Halloween, so he decided he better find a costume.

People didn't recognize him when he walked in.

We took these pictures after work, so his eye-liner was a little faded, but you get the idea. I've always wanted to put mascara on him. I'm so jealous of his eye-lashes.

Last night we celebrated by going out to dinner as a family, something we've not attempted in a great while, and were relieved to find it enjoyable instead of stressful. The older kids took an oath before entering the restaurant to stay in their seats, not whine, not run and to keep their voices low. They were good about keeping their oath, and E found the straws and food pretty entertaining. Phew. R even started speaking in a deep voice and thought he was pretty funny about keeping his voice "low."

Then we carved pumpkins. I, actually, do not love carving pumpkins, but I do it for the kids. It's a good thing I don't have more kids and that DH is such a great guts scraper.

E's and R's

DH's, T's and mine. T's pumpkin is white, which she thinks is very cool.

Tonight we'll pray the rain will hold off long enough to get some good Trick-or-Treating in and I'll watch Corpse Bride while I listen for the doorbell.

Come to my Garden

2010-10-29T14:15:00.003-06:00

I LOVE VEGGIES!

Happy Haunting, Everyone.

Friday Flashback

2010-10-22T12:31:00.008-06:00

I meant to do this earlier, but this is the first moment I've had to really breathe today. However, homework is done for the week, my kids finally have winter coats (just in time, it appears) and R's VIP presentation, complete with poster, is over.

I like to get my Christmas shopping done early. I detest the feeling of the last minute scramble as well as shopping in the cold and crowds. If I'm not done by Thanksgiving I start panicking. So I've been thinking about Christmas presents a lot lately.

When DH and I were engaged he was working at a specialty kitchen store. They had every kind of gadget, gizmo, pan, pot or tool you could possibly ever need or want in your kitchen. And it was a little locally owned store, so they tried especially hard to excel at customer service. Anyway, I had a job at the time, but it was pretty dinky and I wasn't making much. DH convinced his boss to let me come in and gift-wrap (which was offered for free) at this kitchen store. I was happy to do it. I enjoyed gift-wrapping and I was eager to make a few bucks. Plus, it meant more time with my fiance.

Because the store was pretty small and crammed FULL, they set up the gift wrap table in the back next to their demonstration kitchen. Which meant that after someone had purchased an item they would come back to me, I'd check their receipt, and they would stand there and watch me wrap the gift. At first this was not a problem. We'd chat while I wrapped and it was generally quite pleasant.

As Christmas got closer, however, the store became busier and soon the gift-wrap line was snaking all the way past the kitchen and into the baking pan aisle. I bustled right along, wrapping and wrapping while a line-full of customers stared me down. To add to the challenge, many of the items people wanted gift wrapped were odd sizes or shapes, so I would have to figure out a box to fit them in. The longer shoppers waited, the more ornery they got, and having that many eyes watching me, silently urging to provide this free service faster, started to make me feel quite pressured.

I concentrated hard. I chatted less. I wrapped like a mad-woman, and at the end of each night I would congratulate myself for meeting each challenge.

One evening the boss called me into her office. She was concerned. She said she'd had complaints from customers that I seemed angry, irritated, and off-putting. She expressed her disappointment and told me this was unacceptable.

I was HEART-BROKEN. I felt so bad, especially since I felt like I'd been doing really well. I knew that I had been flustered on occasion and realized that must have shown through at times, but still, I couldn't believe people had COMPLAINED! I started crying, the boss was uncomfortable, I was embarrassed... It was a mess.

That night, after the store was locked up, I sat with DH in his car lamenting my chastisement. One of the most hurtful things about it was that I felt that this boss had the wrong impression of me, that she thought I had a bad attitude, that I wasn't grateful to have the job. I wished so hard I could change her view of me. And then I got an idea.

This particular kitchen store had a couple of big-ticket items that they sold a lot of, especially at Christmas time. The main one was Bosch mixers, the other, Whisper Mill wheat grinders. Whenever possible we tried to pre-wrap these items to help get them out the door faster, and since they were large and unwieldy to wrap, they were a time-suck during the wrapping process.

All of the pre-wraps had been gone for a long time though.

So DH, who had keys to the store, opened it up and I wrapped Bosch's and Whisper Mills until the early morning hours. I wrapped everything in stock.

That made me feel a little bit better. And the boss did notice. Incidentally, the wrapping area was moved to an employees only area in subsequent years.

The real ending of the story, however, came later. I don't remember exactly when it happened, but I was once working on a project, concentrating very hard, when I happened to glance up and see my face in the mirror.

Man, did I look pissed off!

Some members of my family, notably my dad, get an expression on their face when they are concentrating that makes it look like they are smiling. It's often quite confusing to people.

I, clearly, did not inherit this trait. Instead, when I concentrate really hard, my brow furrows and my mouth sets into a hard line. It is quite off-putting. Truly, I look very mean.

I can only figure that this expression, combined with the outward manifestation of feeling flustered, was what those customers were complaining about.

To them, and to the rest of the world, I wish to apologize for any offense given during times of extreme concentration. To DH's old boss, who will surely never read this, I offer up this explanation in the hopes you will remember me with just a bit more fondness. To anyone who ever sees me craft, or write, or play the piano, yes, I actually AM enjoying myself.

And to those in my family who consider their concentration-smile a curse, have peace, and know that it's better than the alternative. I bet your boss never chews you out for smiling.

Cat's in the Cradle and the Silver Spoon

2010-10-21T09:09:00.001-06:00

I'm Walkin' In the Spiderweb

2010-10-20T09:22:00.004-06:00

I killed the nastiest spider this morning.

Which prompted a call to my "spider guy" who comes to spray about three times a year. Time for another spray, as this beast was very much alive and went down fighting. It tried to play dead after my first strike with the broom, but I didn't fall for it as this species has tried to fool me this way before. Sure enough, it was still wiggling around after a few more strikes and I kept going until I saw guts.

For those of you who know me you know that this is a herculean feat on my part. Especially if you could have seen how huge this thing was. Look at the length between the tip of your pinky to the first knuckle. Unless you're a guy, with really giant fingers, the body of this spider was about that size (for sure that wide, perhaps a little longer). And the legs were thick and hairy.

Fortunately, the encounter happened in the garage and not inside my actual living quarters. I'm a little bit braver if I know that a failed attempt at squashing has no chance of allowing the creature to scurry into a shoe or hide in a place that I may come across later while in my jammies. So Beefcake was in the garage, and after gasping loudly enough to alert the kids and choking down my gag reflex, I grabbed the nearby broom and began smashing.

I broke the broom.

The spider in question was, if my research is correct, a female Hobo spider. I would post a picture, but have found that I literally cannot look at pictures of spiders without gagging and shuddering uncontrollably. I will tell you that yes, these spiders are poisonous and that this is the third October in so many years (which would mean every year we've lived here) that I've had a Face-to-Face with one of these mammoths. Truly, they are the biggest spiders I've ever seen in "the wild." And they want in.

So I've been trying to come to terms with my extreme fear of spiders. If I'm going to have to deal with these things, it would be helpful if they didn't elicit such extreme terror, trembling and near-vomiting. Rationally, I know that I am much bigger than these creatures and that I have a much greater power to dispatch them than they do me. Especially non-venomous spiders (my fear is no respecter of species) should pose no threat to me, yet I scamper and scream and yes, I even cry, if they get too close. If, by some horrific twist of fate, a spider is actually on my person, I may be known to have a complete breakdown (i.e. screaming, crying, shaking and slapping myself for an extended period of time).

I cannot explain to you why this happens. I do know that it has actually worsened as I've aged. I have never liked spiders, but I have not developed the physical responses until the last few years. I literally begin gagging, get short of breath; I've even become faint.

I'm not sure what the solution is, but I'm beginning to get concerned. This fear has crossed the line into phobia and I'm passing it down to my children. I can't dissuade myself from the idea that spiders are sentient, intelligent beings who are TRYING to get me. Especially big beasties like I came across today. The bigger the spider, the more intelligent they seem to me. Although it goes against all logic, I can't stop the thought that this thing was plotting, lying in wait, ready to pounce. It was evil. It wanted me to die. And there are more out there.

Someone, hold me.

Any advice?

When I Look Into Your Eyes

2010-10-15T13:29:00.002-06:00

I know it's a rule that mothers have to think their kids are cuter than other kids, but c'mon, there's no denying I've got good-looking kids!

This year's school pix:

I spent a good 10 minutes with T discussing the virtues of smiling normally even it did mean you couldn't see her missing tooth. Thank heavens she complied. She had been practicing what she considered a compromise (a kind of normal smile that still showed her missing tooth) that looked completely freaky.

R had his picture taken twice in one day because even though I told him, oh, probably 15 times the morning of pictures to turn in his picture money and even though his teacher had all the kids check their backpacks while she held up the envelope so they would all know what they were looking for, he managed to forget to give the order form/money to his teacher ("Mom, I never heard her!"). We gave the money to the teacher after school who then called to inform us that the order form HAS to be presented at the time the photo is taken, so we had pack up and go back to the school and get his picture taken again.

And since E is doing her fair share of learning at home, we took our own "school" picture. Doesn't she look sweet and intelligent? Well, she is sweet (in a rough sort of way) and she is intelligent (in a non-communicative sort of way). She has a habit of pulling out her hair styles immediately, so I was thrilled to get this photo captured before that happened.

No doubt they're all three gorgeous, however.

Time Keeps on Slippin' Slippin' Slippin'

2010-10-13T15:24:00.004-06:00

Wow. Nearly a month since I've posted.

What the... ?

The irony here is that the biggest reason I've not posted is because I've got TOO MUCH to tell. I get post ideas about eight times a day.

So I'm mostly not going to write any of it. I just can't. My brain is currently like a primordial soup in which I'm giving life to new species of thought almost constantly.

Times, they are a changin'.

I'm one busy mother. (heh, that sentence makes me laugh a little.) I'm completely immersed in Primary music (the Primary program was in September), kids school assignments, a pet project I'll be filling you all in on later, exercise, a renewed vigor for scripture study, an active toddler and all that that implies, an over-worked husband who is busy implementing new systems at work during end of quarter after losing three of his workers to lay-offs, Halloween costume making, very active participation in the non-profit women's organization Bloomsbury,

(breath)

Oh, and I'm going to school. So add a hefty sprinkling of homework and class attendance to the heap. Notice house-cleaning gets last mention.

And I'm happy.

I feel like I'm in a period of re-defining who I am. Spiritually. Mentally. Even physically. If my life was something I've worked to build, I'm currently in the process of remodeling. Updating. Repairing.

It's hard work. Sometimes I get discouraged. Sometimes I get overwhelmed. But really, truly, I like what's happening right now.

We've nailed down the steps I have to take to graduation and next semester is going to be a doozy. It's going to be the bullet-biting semester. More on that later.

So just know that while I've shared little on the blog as of late, I don't have little to share. I do hope to get things in full swing again very soon.

Because I miss you all so very much.

Stay tuned.

West Coast Represent

2010-09-22T16:34:00.012-06:00

Some of you may remember that last year we went to San Diego with our friends for a wedding and I declared that vacationing with friends in the future was a must.

Well, I made good on that declaration this past weekend.

To our great fortune, our friends Stanny won a 3 night beach house stay in Monticeto, CA, right next to Santa Barbara. This was where the life-long friendship thing pays off. They invited Dandi and us to accompany them.

Heck to the Yeah.

We flew out with Dandi on Thursday morning and met Stanny at the pier in Santa Barbara where the first of many meals took place. We were also introduced to the Santa Barbara fog, a companion we got to know well during our stay.

The sun did peek out long enough for me to snap this picture.

It soon became apparent that there were three themes to our vacation: Eating, laughing, and eating. We developed the art of keeping ourselves completely stuffed at all times. If at any time we did not feel absolutely full we rectified it immediately. Which resulted in rectifying it later, if you know what I mean.

Thursday evening we went to the grocery store to stock up the beach house. Then we made dinner and went for a foggy but delightful dusk walk (frolic) along the beach where DH and Dr. Dandi attempted to get a giant log adrift in the surf and Mrs. Dandi and I pretended to be mermaids on a big rock.

That's the great thing about being friends since your teenage years. It gives you permission to revert back to that when you get together.

Thursday morning we headed to the Montecito Farmer's Market and picked up some delicious finds before making our way to D'Angelo's for an awesome breakfast.

I warmed up with a gorgeous cup of Hot Chocolate and followed it up with French Toast and Poached Eggs.

After breakfast the sun came out and we hit Main Street Santa Barbara, purchasing sunglasses and enjoying some Yogurtland frozen yogurt.

Back at the house:

The sun prolonged its debut, so we decided it was beach time.

Just because the sun was out, however, did not mean it was warm.

Our house is the one in the middle. We had both the upstairs and downstairs units, which made it nice because it provided two kitchens, two showers, two toilets and private sleeping quarters for our own little mascot:

Six adults to one baby was definitely a manageable ratio.

The boys played a mean game of beach soccer, planting driftwood in the sand as goal posts. The bruising and scraping of shins and feet made it clear why beach soccer is not more popular.

DH kicked butt though.

And I was able to snap this shot completely candidly! That's right, it was totally unposed. No posing involved. This kick really happened. Really. I promise. As I said, it was not posed.

DH and Dr. Dandi got brave and completely submerged in the ocean. Mrs. Stanny even ventured in a bit. I was on the sand in long pants and two jackets.

It was a beautiful view from our balcony, though.

That evening we pigged out some more and stayed up entirely too late, reminiscing about high school, telling funny stories about our kids and generally finding each other completely hilarious.

Which led to a lot of this the next day:

There was also a fair amount of this:

And, of course, a whole lot of this:

("This" being food, not necessarily DH cooking)

Here we are trying to decide where to go to dinner. It's hard to come to a consensus when 6 separate opinions come into play, so we ended up just driving around foggy Santa Barbara until we found a "cute" place.

Before finding that "cute" place, however, we stopped by Santa Barbara's famous old fig tree.

It's been "cordoned off" to keep kids from climbing in the roots. Apparently they are reserved for homeless people to sleep in.

The cutest restaurant we could find was Enterprise Fish Co. Since Dr. Dandi and I were the only ones in the group who particularly enjoy fish, we tried to live it up.

Once we returned to the beach house we watched "Paul Blart, Mall Cop" and went to bed.

Before returning to reality on Sunday we camped out on the beach for a while, DH and I went for a walk in the surf and scratched our names in the sand.

Oh, and we completely stuffed our faces.

The hardest part about leaving was trying to decide where we're going to go next year.

Until then, we'll have "Teenage Dream" stuck in our heads, which, for some reason, became the theme song of the trip.

I'd like to end the post with a GIGANTIC THANK YOU to Grandma T and Auntie A for taking such fabulous care of our kids while we were away. We LOVE YOU and appreciate you.

Can You Feel The Love Tonight?

2010-08-30T13:41:00.005-06:00

To celebrate the birthdays of Mrs. Dandi and DH we went on the long-anticipated double date to see The Lion King. We've had the tickets since February.

It was, in a word, awesome.

We started off the evening with dinner at The Cheesecake Factory. I'm sure I don't have to tell you how tasty it was.

And then:

I don't have a lot to say about the show because if you haven't seen it there is no way for me to explain its sheer amazingness and if you have seen it then you already know what I'm talking about.

I will say this: Tears were shed and the woman who played Rifiki absolutely blew me away.

If you ever get the chance to see this show, please, please do it. And if you have friends as great as Dandi, go with them.

Friday Flashback

2010-08-27T08:03:00.005-06:00

It's been too long, hasn't it?

Okay, this Friday Flashback came to me while I was leading the singing in Primary the other day. Watching those kids, seeing the ones who are really trying and the ones who really aren't, reminded me of when I was a child in Primary. I remember being individually praised for singing loudly and feeling pretty awesome about it.

There was one time, however, that I was being the naughty, distracting, irreverent kid. Well, I'm sure there was more than one time, but there is one time in particular that I can remember. We must have been practicing for the program because we were in the chapel, but we were in the congregation pews, not up on the stand. Anyway, I had taken my shoes off and hung them on my pig-tails, to the snickers of my friends, and I was just eating up the attention. The Singing Time leader, in an effort to embarrass me, I'm sure, asked me if I'd like to come up on the stand and show everyone. I'll bet she expected me to be cowed and meekly take the shoes off of my head. This is how I would expect most of the kids I teach to react.

She wasn't counting on this diva. Delighted, I marched right up, climbed the four stairs to my "stage" and pranced around next to the pulpit as the kids openly laughed. I remember feeling the nigglings of embarrassment because A) I knew the Singing Time leader was genuinely bothered and I didn't actually like upsetting people, and B) I couldn't be entirely sure that the kids laughter was not at my expense.

It didn't stop me, however. I was committed. And I continued to stand up there until the Singing Time Leader asked me to go back to my seat.

I am fairly certain I put my shoes right back on my feet when I got there.

It's interesting that this past weekend I retook the color code personality test with DH's family. I had taken it many years ago and figured I hadn't much reason to retake it, but when I took it this time my results came out a bit differently. I had before come out as a blue with a smattering of yellow and white. No red.

This time my yellow and blue were almost even, yellow just barely achieving the high score. A bit of white. No red. Not that I think my personality has changed. I just think I understand myself better and took the test more accurately. Because blue and yellow are so dissimilar, I think I gravitated to more blue answers in the past because they seemed more responsible.

The results confirm what I learned when I took the DISC personality test last fall. I'm wacko. Blues are the worriers, the nurturers. Yellows are the partiers, the adventurers. It seems incongruent to be almost half and half blue and yellow, yet here I am. I'm constantly fighting battles within myself, wanting to do some grand thing, immediately feeling guilty about it, resenting the guilt and then feeling guilty about the resentment. I can see that I've been this way since childhood, eager to show off the shoes on my pigtails, then feeling nervous about what everyone really thinks about it.

I think success for me is going to get these two factions of my personality to appreciate each other. Can't we all just get along?

Oh, would you shut up, you're so sensitive.

No, I will not shut up. Your manners are inexcusable.

Are you kidding? I'm the only reason anybody likes you.

Oh yes? Well I may be the only reason anybody actually loves you.

Ha! My jokes are funnier. Remember college? You would not have loved college without me.

That may be true, but you wouldn't have passed any of your classes without me.

Aw, but you're such a downer.

Yes. Yes, that's true, but someone's got to hold the reigns. Now would you keep it down? You're embarrassing me.

Hell, give me the reigns. Who needs 'em? YAHOOOO!

*smiling politely* Would you excuse us?

ToMAYto, ToMAHto

2010-08-25T22:38:00.002-06:00

Yogurt, Shampoo

C is for Cookie

2010-08-25T13:33:00.002-06:00

That's good enough for him.

The cookies are MADE from cake mix, and they have icing in them, so it's pretty darn close to cake.

And more delicious anyway.

R made that awesome "D" candle just for DH at a craft fair.

It was a low key, bittersweet birthday. His day at work was depressing and hard, but we got to do sealings at the temple which was very nice.

They Say It's Your Birthday

2010-08-24T12:44:00.002-06:00

HAPPY

BIRTHDAY

DH!

I love you.

As much as I hate to do it, I posted multiple posts today, so don't forget to scroll down to see them.

Rollin' With The Homies

2010-08-24T11:54:00.007-06:00

DH's family got together at our house for some much needed family time this past weekend. We began the soiree on Friday night with a big backyard BBQ. Carnivores that we are, we consumed a lot of steak, along with a smorgasbord of other buffet type items.

That night we stayed up too late taking personality tests and playing a question game where things like kissing, child-trading, and future spouses were discussed.

The brothers got up for an early tee-time and enjoyed a little competition on the golf course. Upon their return the ladies handed off the kids to the men and went out for pedicures. The kiddies played in the water and watched a movie. The only downside was the fatigue. We were all pretty beat by Saturday afternoon.

Not too beat, however, to celebrate the first birthday of little H.

The marshmallows on the cake were more than the kids could resist.

Jonboy fulfilling his obligatory parental duties

Gorgeous Ladies

DH2 and family

TLee made some cool cake-cones.

Brother

This is what happens when you sneak up on A with a camera. Look at those blue eyes!

T thinking pensively about what to write in her new "diary" from Grandma. She was suffering from a sunburn on her shoulders, hence the trashy camisole top.

We also had ice cream.

Me looking tired and old, but in love with the man who made me a part of this awesome family.

My favorite pic of the bunch.

I'd like to think this little get together was quite a success. The only casualty was one popped water balloon that didn't escape the digestive system of little H, who deposited it in her diaper the next day.

Nothing Ever Goes As Planned

2010-08-24T11:12:00.004-06:00

Since my kids have started school and are now back off-track, we decided to pack in as much summer fun as we could in these three weeks before school starts in earnest.

Last week was full of big plans.

First, we went to the only amusement park in the state with Dandi and their kids. It seemed that we were off to a good a start.

Dr. D and M

A1 and R

A2 and Me

T, right before she puked

Yes, just as we were getting into the swing of things T started complaining of a tummy ache. A tummy ache that really delivered. Since E had been sick a few days earlier we were pretty sure it wasn't motion sickness and I had no choice but to bring her (and E) home. She confirmed the wisdom of that choice by puking in the car on the way home. DH and R stayed and played while T lounged on the couch, E napped, and I sat in the recliner feeling sorry for myself and steaming about wasted money. (Seriously, this park has nearly doubled in price since I was a teenager, and I thought it was steep then.) The tender mercy of the day was my sister Sh's availability to stay with the girls while I returned to the park to pick up DH and R. Thank you Sh and family.

The next day T felt fine. We went to Auntie M's where Uncle W and family were visiting. His son L left for the MTC the next day. It was a very nice visit and I got to see my mom on a Harley, another tender mercy in my book.

On Wednesday I came down with a cold.

On Thursday we were supposed to go boating with Auntie M, something we'd had planned for months.

So that was the day the weather decided to get cloudy and cool. AFTER we were all dressed and packed for the lake. Disappointed, but determined not be thwarted we (being Auntie M's family and ours) decided perhaps it was more of a zoo day. We changed our clothes and then got packed to go to the zoo. At which point cloudy and cool turned into full on monsoon. Disappointed again, yet still determined, we decided to go to a fun restaurant for lunch that the kids love. When we got there we learned that it was closed.

It didn't seem to be our day.

So we went to Burger King. And then to a movie. When we exited the movie at around 4 the sky was sunny and blue, not a cloud to be seen.

DH took Friday off to help me prepare for a family gathering taking place in our home.

He got sick too.

The family gathering will be covered in the next post.

As for last week, I took it as a lesson in rolling with the punches.

I don't think I'm very good at it yet.

I'm More Than a Bird, I'm More Than a Plane

2010-08-24T11:04:00.004-06:00

What do you do when you're kids come home from school with a note to inform you that for Spirit Day they are supposed to dress up like super heroes?

And that Spirit Day is tomorrow?

You dig through the fabric scraps and whip up some capes.

So what if they end up being two of only a handful of kids who dress up?

They're Super.

Product Review - Edition Number ?

2010-08-13T15:49:00.013-06:00

Welcome back! It's time for some Product Review! (That sounded very Price is Right in my head.) Let's jump right in, shall we?

DH and I have been really focusing on fitness since the beginning of the year. I really love to listen to music while I exercise. You'd think that by now I would have perfected my system but I still haven't found a comfortable way to listen to music. This is a direct result of me being a cheapskate. You see, DH got me an MP3 player for Christmas in 2006, not an Ipod, because he's a cheapskate too. The earbuds it came with worked okay, but they were cheap and soon the little foam coverings had torn and wouldn't stay and they were hurting my ears. Then DH got some new earbuds as a white elephant gift at a work party and I started using those. They had soft little nubs and were quite comfortable to use, but would not stay in my ears during any sort of physical activity. Any jumping resulted in my replacing them at least once a minute. Especially if they got any type of perspiration on them (which they did.) I endured them for a while and then heard my brother-in-law singing the praises of over-the-ear earbuds. So I got some Philips ones very much like those pictured. For $20. My question is, whose ears are they making these for? Not only could I not seem to find the right position for them to nestle in my ear without jamming into my cartilage, the over-the-top part was in no way even touching my ear, making that feature ineffectual. They STILL fell out while I was exercising. Grr. Plus, the sound was not as good. I couldn't get them nestled good enough for that true in-the-brain kind of music experience I crave. I ended up getting some cheapy earbuds at Walgreens to replace them, but they, too, are hurting me. I cannot have that freaky of ears that all earbuds in existence hurt me, can I? I'm totally open for suggestions as to some good earbuds that cost less than $30. The frustrating thing is that by the time I find some that I can wear comfortably I will have spent much more than the expensive ones I was trying to avoid buying. As a side note, I can't find an armband that doesn't cater specifically to Ipods, so I am left to hold my mp3 player in my hand or stick it in my bra, pulling Star Trek moves to change the song.

Okay, let's be clear, a snow cone is NOT the same as shaved ice. A snow cone is ice, poorly crushed, that quickly melds into a crunchy mass, letting all the flavor flow out of it and pool into the bottom of your cup. A snow cone is nasty. Shaved ice, on the other hand, is light and moist and delicious. There is, however, a trend in the shaved ice world, that is truly worthy of return business. Each shaved ice stand labels it differently, but the technique is basically that of putting a scoop of vanilla ice cream in the bottom of the cup, making the shaved ice as normal with whatever flavoring the customer requests and then topping it all off with coffee creamer.

Blissful, I tell you. I came across the phenomenon when visiting a friend who owns his own shaved ice business. He treated me to a horchata flavored shaved ice made in the way just described. I was skeptical, but it was really, truly delicious. I have since found a shaved ice stand near my house and, though they don't have horchata flavor (boo), they do employ this same technique. I will say, however, that they are a little skimpy with the coffee creamer. If you have not experienced a shaved ice of this variety, I highly suggest you locate your nearest shaved ice business and see if they offer it. Everyone must try it once. And if you're ever on Main street Cedar City, stop by the Tiki Shack and have the finest shaved ice money can buy. Tell 'em Joni sent you.

Keeping with the frozen treat theme, I'd like to say a word about Mighty Minis by Popsicle brand. For those of you who have not seen these, they are teeny tiny little popsicles about the height of chapsticks and only a bit wider. Weighing in at 45 calories each they are an easy way for dieters to not feel completely left out of the world of sweets, but more importantly, they are a way for toddlers to eat a popsicle by themselves without making a complete mess. They supposedly melt slower than regular popsicles and E can indeed finish one without it dripping down her hand. It's also a quick treat for older kids who have eaten all of their dinner but don't need something huge. If price is ultimately your deciding factor when choosing a frozen treat, then you'll probably want to stick to the traditional twin pop. But I'll let you clean up that mess. My single objection to these is the wasteful packaging. The sticks and wrappers are sized for a much larger product.

Shifting gears completely, let's talk about underwear. I was actually going to place this one next to the earbud section, but I've discovered that, for some reason, on my laptop I can't change the order in which the pictures get imported in the post. So, oh well. Underwear. I, like many of my readers, have the majority of my underwear needs taken care of at one place: the Church Distribution Center. However, when exercising I like to wear undies of the more "worldly" variety. I came across these at a Hanes outlet. The picture is deceiving, but we should all be grateful for that. They are quite see-through. They're called Tagless and, as the name implies, have no tags, nor have they seams. When they come out of the laundry they look like they might be too small for a 6 year old, but they have amazing stretch capacity. They're thin, breathe well, (let's overlook the implication I just made about my butt's need to breathe) and, as they claim, stay in place famously. No wedgies during lunges and squats! If I were the type who wore panties as my regular undies, I would wear these every day. I need G's made of this stuff.

Being a mom requires the development of many skills. Stain removal, changing a diaper on your lap, multi-tasking, oh, so many things. If you are the mother of girls you end up learning how to style little girl hair. E is currently in the Ouchless mini-elastic stage. These are a MUST for baby/toddler hair. In fact, we use them on T a lot too. But T has enough hair that real pony-tails require real elastics. However, her hair is thin and straight enough that by the end of a school day any tight, crisp hairstyles have turned in to limp, saggy, slipped out hairstyles. The discovery of Goody Stay Put elastics have made a big difference though. They have little gripper bands made of rubber that really improve hair slippage. But they don't rip your hair out when you actually remove them. We are big fans. I'm glad I discovered these before E came of age. So far her hair is even thinner than T's.

I mentioned earlier that I'm a cheapskate. I have absolutely no beef with store brands. In fact, many store brands I like better than their big name counterparts. We have generally always used grocery store brand powdered dish detergent in our dishwasher and it has been fine. While on a trip to Costco we did a price comparison and it looked like the Kirkland liquid detergent was the best price, so we went for it. We haven't used liquids much in the past, so I assumed that since they are generally more expensive they must provide a preferable cleaning experience. Hmph. Whether it's because of brand or the fact that it's liquid I don't know, but this stuff sucks. I've never had to rewash so many dishes. Food stays stuck on, even sometimes when it's been pre-rinsed, and glass is often left with an opaque coating. Also, the smell is less "lemon fresh" and more, well, the exact smell of something I can't mention on a family blog. Think sailors. Blech. We'll make it through these two bottles, but then, never again.

I Believe The Children Are Our Future

2010-08-10T09:47:00.006-06:00

Thanks to year round school T and R have already begun 2nd grade and Kindergarten respectively.

T's first day of school:
R's first day of school:

Lining up with his class:

He was a bit unsure, but decided after the first day it was "mostly thumbs up." After his initial testing and evaluation with his teacher it was determined he was very ready for Kindergarten. So far it's been great. I can't imagine having him in preschool. He is definitely in the right place. He has recently begun reading books by himself.

T is elated that at age 7.5 she has finally got a loose tooth. She's got kids in her class that have lost 8 or 10 teeth, so it has been quite an anticipated event. My little girl is turning into such a big girl, getting jokes she didn't get before and staying up in bed to read Junie B. Jones books.

But it's all good. I've got another who can fill the little girl niche.

E with her little friend.

E is turning into quite a quirky little thing. Some of my favorite things she's doing right now are her singing (even though she still refuses to talk), her tip-toe walk and her obsession with the Potato Head glasses. She wears them all the time.

A few of my least favorite things she's doing right now are NOT TALKING (aside from 4-5 words), her toilet water obsession and clinging to my legs while I'm trying to work.

Summer semester is OVER and I praise the powers that be that my Quantitative Intensive requirement is finished! I'll try to be a little more present for the next few weeks.