Tales of an Ordinary Housewife

CRAZY HAIR DAY

2012-01-29T23:05:00.000-08:00

Poor Amelia. Daddy did her hair like this and Mommy won't let her play with a pencil.

AMELIA'S FIRST KISS

2011-12-14T23:08:00.000-08:00

(Sung to the tune of I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus)

I saw Amelia sucking on the garbage can
While I was cooking dinner last night... and the night before that and the night before that....

You get the point.

It's disgusting. She is ~~french kissing~~ sucking on everything. Last weekend, we were at Home Depot and she was licking the side of the car shopping cart. The cashier said, "Oh my gosh, you know your baby is sucking on the side of the shopping cart!" Erik and I just sighed, "Yeah, we know." The cashier went on, "Some people are really bothered by that!!" We just sighed again, "Yeah, we know." We say that putting everything in her mouth will just "build up her immune system", but deep down I think we just tell ourselves that in order to not feel so guilty for letting her lick everything. It truly is disgusting, but I don't know how to make her stop!

I know this is just a phase, but I'm ready for it to be over.

SUPERIORITY COMPLEX

2011-12-05T23:12:00.000-08:00

There are 2 types of people in this world. The superior Bosch owners and the inferior Kitchen Aid owners. (Can you guess which one I am?)

I always respond with the same question when someone tells me they own a Kitchen Aid, "Is it red? I bet it's red!" They usually get excited, "Why yes, it is red!" Yeah, I thought I so. That's the only reason to buy that silly thing - because it's pretty. You see, I buy my kitchen appliances based on quality, not appearance. The Bosch may not be shiny and colorful, but it sure is powerful.

For example, this morning I made FOUR large loaves of whole wheat bread in this bowl. Impressed? So am I.

All hail the mighty Bosch!

SERIOUSLY? SERIOUSLY.

2011-12-01T19:08:00.000-08:00

Meet Miss Amelia. She is 8 months and 1 week old and all day long she keeps crawling to the middle of the room and standing up all on her own.

Each time that she does it I hold my breath (that's a lot of breath holding today) and wait for her to walk. She looks like she wants to walk. My other kids never did this before they had teeth. People keep saying she needs to keep up with her brothers. So true, so true.

ROCK ON

2011-11-28T15:49:00.000-08:00

I was really tempted to buy a Wii on Black Friday so that we could play Rock Band with the kids. Not necessary. Welcome to our new morning routine. Today I broke out the pots, pans, and chopsticks. The kids sat on the floor for 20 minutes (a record!) drumming along to songs like "Welcome to the Jungle" and "Highway to Hell." H-I-L-A-R-I-O-U-S. Why haven't I done this before?

ALCOHOLLY WOULD BE PROUD

2011-11-18T09:46:00.000-08:00

Does anyone remember this gift that Alcoholly gave me 2 years ago? You know, the one that she said, "Screams, Cristin!"

Well, today, Luke was encouraged by his teacher to dress up as either a Pilgrim or Indian for their Thanksgiving "feast" at school. I say "encouraged" because it wasn't mandatory. After researching online for 2 minutes about how to make your child a homemade Pilgrim costume, I decided to be lazy and not do it. I told him that if he wanted to dress up, he'd have to figure it out himself.

And he did!

This morning, he grabbed this little puppy out of our costume box and announced proudly that he was an Indian and that he would be naked underneath like a real Indian if it wasn't so cold today. (I'm so glad it's cold today!)

THE JUICE FAST

2011-11-09T08:55:00.000-08:00

Erik recently finished a 30 day juice fast. Why? Because he is crazy, that's why. Well, that, and he also was inspired watching Fat, Sick, and Nearly Dead on Netflix. I would have totally done it too if I wasn't breastfeeding. Too bad for me. I didn't want Erik to feel like he was alone in his quest to eat better, so I set a goal of only eating ice cream every other day instead of every day throughout the duration of his fast. (I didn't succeed.)

This is how it worked. Every few days Erik would make me a list and then I would go to the grocery store and spend way too much money on fruits and vegetables. Then he would put them into the Breville Juicer we borrowed from my sister, Kaci, and make various juices to drink all day. Below is a picture of my actual shopping cart during one of said shopping trips. Did I mention that fresh produce is expensive?? Then when he got too lazy to make juice (and can you blame him?) he would drink Naked Juice. (Also expensive.) Yet, as my Dad would say, "Can you really put a price on good health?" My answer is, "Yes, roughly $20 a day."

First I will tell you the good things about the juice fast. He lost a lot of weight in a short amount of time. 28 pounds in 30 days to be exact. We both ended up eating a lot more fruits and vegetables. We are big red meat eaters, and I only made red meat one time during the whole month. Now the bad - it was like living with a 15 year old girl! So many mood swings. Some days he had a ton of energy and other days he would fall asleep 15 minutes after coming home from work. I was grateful when he finally stopped. I was worried he was becoming manorexic.

I really do like eating dinner as family again. Our new goal is red meat only once a week. So far, so good. I think we eat pretty healthy, but we can always improve. I'm trying to do a lot more vegetable based meals and avoiding processed foods all together.

Now that Erik is off the juice fast, the most common question I get is, "What were his first bites of food like?" I was actually really worried about that. You hear about these starving people who die from overeating. Don't worry about Erik. This was him once he started eating again. A candy coma on Halloween night -

We have also decided that we are watching no more documentaries for awhile. We are too easily influenced!

JUST SAY NO

2011-11-07T10:34:00.000-08:00

Outside of Luke's school, emblazoned across the fence of his playground is written in large red letters -

JUST SAY NO

I asked Luke what it means and he said, "Just say no to jumping over the fence!" Yup, that anti-drug campaign they've got going at the school is really making a ton of sense. Well, I'm assuming it's related to drugs. Right?

I think I will make Luke watch this Punky Brewster anti-drug episode that I clearly remember watching when I was a kid... since it makes perfect sense for 12 year old girls with big hair and shoulder pads to offer cocaine or "nose candy" to 9 year olds. You don't realize how much television has evolved in the past 20+ years until you watch something like this.

AND YOU ARE....?

2011-11-05T21:24:00.000-07:00

Hallelujah. Halloween is over. I couldn't be happier. It is not my most favorite holiday. Actually, it might even be my least favorite holiday (tied with Administrative Professionals Day). This year, I actually denied some "trick or treaters" some candy, not because I am a Halloween scrooge, but because they were not wearing costumes. Seriously? Who knocks on a stranger's door, asks for candy and doesn't wear a costume!? I'll tell you who, the 14 year old me, that's who! Been there, done that.

I found this awful picture of myself tonight from the 1998 Flagstaff Institute of Religion's Halloween Extravaganza -

Dressing as a gypsy and telling fortunes inside a tent with UNO cards at a church activity seemed like a really good idea at the time. Notice the thought and effort that went into that costume? There wasn't any! It took five minutes to tie a scarf around my head and put on too much eye shadow. When I used to dress up on Halloween, I was the master of the "5 Minute Costume." Other such quickie costumes I have had over the years include -

The Gap Employee - Jeans, White T-Shirt and name tag that says, "Gap."

The Headless Horseman - Wear a dress shirt that is too big for me, put it over my head,look through an open button hole, name tag that says, "I am headless."

Ghost - White sheet. Name tag optional.

Beatles Fan - Dress like someone from the 60's or 70's. Wear a name tag that says "I Love the Beatles."

An Intersection - Wear an arrow name tag.

Ninja - Black sweat pants and black sweatshirt. Wear a name tag that says "Ninja."

If you haven't figured it already, the key to a quick Halloween costume is usually wearing a NAME TAG.

Lucky for me, I have kids now, which give me a great excuse to not dress up. This year the kids were Peter Pan, Tinkerbell and Captain Hook. No name tags required. (Except, that I did consider putting one on Luke because people kept calling him Robin Hood.)

SPLIT PERSONALITY

2011-10-17T12:59:00.000-07:00

Amelia in Maui in July.

This blog post is made possible by Amelia sucking on a pacifier. That's right. She took one, really took one, for the first time yesterday. It only took 6 months of shoving it into her mouth. Up until yesterday she was still gnawing on it and then throwing it at me. She has turned out to be a much harder baby than my other two kids. So, this pacifier thing is monumental.

True story: When Luke was a baby, he took a pacifier. Five minutes before a La Leche League meeting, I pried it out of his mouth while we were sitting in the parking lot. I preferred to have my baby scream than to admit that I was giving him a pacifier. Awful, huh? I don't know where this pressure comes from. I shouldn't want her to take a pacifier. The guilt is setting in. I am a home birthin', co-sleepin', attachment parentin' parent. Say pacifier around my La Leche League friends and I might as well be screaming obscenities. However, reality is that I can't walk around with a baby stuck to my boob all the time. I've tried. People look at me funny and frankly, it hurts to have a baby suck that much.

Don't worry, I'm still nursing her like 1,000 times a day. *sigh*

HERE I AM

2011-05-17T09:42:00.000-07:00

To blog or to shower? That is the question.

No, really, that IS the question.

This past month and whatever has been psychotic. About a week after Amelia was born our landlords called to tell us that they needed to move back into their home by May 10th. Moving with a newborn? [cue me crying] We started searching immediately for a new rental, but after a few days of looking at rentals, we started feeling sick to our stomach knowing that it would be cheaper to buy. So, us, the eternal renters, went out and found a house. Nothing fancy, just practical and affordable. The only problem was that there was a 9 day gap between the time we had to move out of the rental and when escrow would close on the new home. [cue more crying from me] So we came up with a plan. I would take the kids to go stay with family and Erik would house sit for someone from church. Our stuff went into a hangar down at the airport.

I'm happy to say that the plan seems to be working. Everything looks like it is on course for the house to close on time. It hasn't been an easy two weeks away from home, but I am grateful for family that has been so willing to help me out with the kids. My kids don't do well with traveling. Amelia doesn't really sleep. Charlie is still in diapers. Luke doesn't have any patience. However, I love them all the same. Isn't it strange that it is so hard, yet I am still very happy to be their mom?

Unfortunately, this brief 10 minutes I had to blog is now over. Amelia is awake and demands to be held. I'm not stopping blogging all together, just taking a short hiatus while my family demands some extra attention. It's really a shame I can't blog with one hand while nursing. I guess I'm just not coordinated enough.

AMELIA'S BIRTH

2011-03-30T14:41:00.000-07:00

Warning: This post will acknowledge the existence of things like poop and toilets. I'm just warning you.

I'm having a hard time writing Amelia's birth story. I keep trying to think of a way to make it heartwarming or sweet, but it really wasn't. The pregnancy was long (42 weeks!), but the labor was crazy fast. So before I delve into the nitty-gritty ugly details, let's pause and look at a picture of this sweet baby girl at 1 day old.

I love having a girl. Ahhhh.

So... here are the events of March 22, 2011 -

1:00 p.m.. - My midwife, Justine, strips my membranes. She warns that I will feel some cramping as a result. She was right. The cramping is immediate and without a start or stop. However, it isn't anything that I can't tolerate, so I just continue about business as usual.

5:30 p.m. - I notice that the cramping isn't going away. I call Justine and she tells me that it isn't real labor until the contractions are each a minute long.

7:00 p.m. - The cramping begins to feel more like contractions, but they aren't lasting very long. I time them during dinner (using my fancy iPhone contraction timing app!) and when we finish eating, I notice that they are consistently 4-5 minutes apart, but not a minute long, so I blow it off as cramping from the membrane stripping.

8:00 p.m. - My mom and Erik look at my contraction log and say, "You're going to have this baby!" I yell, "No, I'm not. You guys are stupid. Stop bothering me." I go into my room to be alone. They are really irritating me.

8:03 p.m. - Erik texts Justine:

"I don't think its full blown labor yet, but Cristin has been having shallow short contractions for the last hour. She thinks they have stopped but judging by her irritability, I think she could easily be in full labor a little bit later tonight."

8:15 p.m. - Erik checks on me. I'm sitting on my big birth ball and watching 30 Rock. I adamantly tell him that the contractions have stopped, so please stop bothering me.

8:45 p.m. - Erik comes into our room and threatens to call Justine if I don't. Reluctantly, I call Justine to tell her that Erik is freaking out, but I am fine. She tells me to lay down. She says that if the cramping doesn't go away, to call her back. I lay on my bed and after about 10 minutes, the "cramping" becomes really intense. In the meantime, Erik starts setting up the Aquadoula (the tub), but I tell him not to fill it with water yet because I'm not sure if this is the real thing.

9:36 p.m. - Erik texts Justine:

"I'm setting up the tub, but not filling it yet, just in case, ya know, the power of positive thinking."

9:45 p.m. - I call Justine to tell her that I think I might be in labor. She says she will come to check.

9:50 p.m. - I start screaming at my Mom and Erik to fill up the tub now. They are trying everything they can to do it, but there isn't any hot water left. Erik starts bringing candles in the room and I tell him he's stupid.

10:00 p.m. - I'm sitting on the edge of my bed, screaming that I want to get into the tub now and moaning about how Justine hasn't arrived yet. (No, I was not handling the pain well. Which isn't shocking since I failed to think about pain management for this labor. I got cocky because I had done this twice before and it came back to bite me. I was a screaming mess and a big jerk.)

10:20 p.m.. - Justine arrives. She checks me and I am dilated to a 9. I am happy for about 2 minutes after hearing that, and then I start screaming again. My mom starts boiling water on the stove to add to the cold water in the tub.

10:35 p.m. - The tub is barely full or warm, but I don't care because I want to get into the water so badly. I strip off my clothes and jump into the tub anyway. The cold water is horrific.

10:45 p.m. - My water breaks and I poop. In the tub. (This is a little secret about childbirth that women don't like to talk about. We poop while we have babies. It is extremely disgusting, but so is childbirth. It is gross, bloody, and yes, almost always, there is poop.) I feel like I have to go some more so everyone tells me to get out of the tub and go sit on the toilet, because who wants to float around in a tub of your own poop? Not me!

10:50 p.m. - Erik helps me over to the toilet. Immediately, I realize that this isn't poop. I manage to grunt, "I think that's the head." The baby flies out of me. Somehow, she does not fall in the toilet. (Thank you, Justine.) I can't believe I am sitting on the toilet and holding a baby. All I can say is, "Wow. That was funny."

So, what do you know? I ended up having a birth on the toilet kind of like all those ladies on I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant after all!

This is Amelia moments after her birth. Although, according to my early ultrasound, she was 2 weeks late, nothing appeared "past due." She weighed 8 lbs 6 oz., and was 21" long. My placenta didn't look like it was falling apart either. I'm really grateful for a midwife and doctor who helped me to feel confident about carrying a baby 2 weeks past my due date, despite all the people telling me that it was crazy dangerous to continue being pregnant.

This birth was different in that it was the first time my mom was able to attend the birth of a grandchild. When asked if it was a spiritual experience, she responded, "No, childbirth is kind of gross. Glad I don't have to go through that again." It probably didn't help that I was clutching on to her arm and screaming into her ear. Sorry, Mom. I really was a big jerk.

Although Amelia's birth wasn't heartwarming and sweet, it did reaffirm my love for home birth. My heart swells when I think about how fortunate I was to not have to get in a car and drive to a hospital while in labor. I received (and continue to receive) excellent care. (With the exception of the visits with my back-up doctor, all the midwifery visits were in my home!) For a low risk mother, I can not think of a better option for child birth than having a baby at home. It's definitely been a leap of faith, because child birth is scary no matter what, but I feel so blessed to have been able to do this twice now at home.

I may not be adventurous or athletic, but the sense of accomplishment that comes from being able to have had three children completely naturally is indescribable. I don't write this story out so that people will say, "Wow, you're amazing," because I believe that all mothers are amazing regardless of how their children enter this world, but instead to explain the reasons for choosing to do the things the way I do.

Besides, I have a feeling that childbirth was the easy part. Raising 3 little kids... that's going to be scary!

THE STRESSED OUT NON-STRESS TEST DAY

2011-03-18T05:00:00.000-07:00

I'm trying to act like I'm totally cool with being 41 weeks and a day pregnant, but the honest truth is that I kind of feel like crawling under my covers and not getting out of bed until this baby comes. I'm tired of people saying, "What, you haven't had the baby yet!?" when they see me and then proceeding to give me all sorts of advice on how to induce labor. I know everyone means well, but I feel like my body is failing me because I haven't gone into labor yet on my own. I know that, for right now, it's actually a blessing, but if I make it to 42 weeks next Wednesday, I think I'm going to drive myself to the hospital and force them to cut this baby out of me.

So... Wednesday was my non-stress test at my doctor's office in Palmcaster (that's what we call Lancaster and Palmdale). It was kind of fun. They gave me a Capri-Sun to "get the baby moving" and magazines to read while I was hooked up to a machine to monitor the baby's heart and any contractions. Supposedly this was going to take 20 minutes, but it ended up lasting 2 hours since the baby wouldn't stop moving. I figured that after a while they would just call it good, since the baby was obviously doing well, but they were pretty adamant that they get a good reading. I also had over 20 contractions while laying there. Nothing consistent and they were pretty painless, but the nurses got a good laugh out of how I didn't even react although the machine indicated that they were pretty strong.

This part at the doctor's office turned out to be the non-stressful part of my day. On the way home. I decided to stop at Trader Joe's for lunch and groceries. Bad move. I got out of the store and the car wouldn't start. At first I thought that maybe I forgot how to drive and then I thought that someone did to my car the same thing that the nuns did to the Nazis' car at the end of my all time favorite movie, The Sound of Music -

I called Erik, who told me that it was a good thing I was so pregnant or he probably wouldn't have left work to come help me. (60-40, honey.) He immediately told me that it would be impossible for anyone to do what the nuns did in The Sound of Music to our car, since diesels don't have the parts that the nuns removed. So, with that theory busted, Erik got to work trying to figure out what made the car suddenly stop working. He tried jumping it, removing the battery completely, and then surfed the internet forums on the iPhone for at least an hour.

At one point he realized that the jumper cables were broken, so we walked across the street to Target (we didn't want to lose his parking space) to get new ones. I even waddled/ran across the street because we jay-walked. (Don't you judge us.) In a weird way, it kind of felt like we were on a date since the kids were at home. We took pictures of each other walking down the streets of Palmcaster, just like we did when we were in Mexico. Really romantic.

At the end, we decided to just shell out the big bucks and have the car towed home. This was hard for us, because we hate spending money, but we really didn't have much of a choice.

The best part of the whole story is that when we finally made it home at 7:00 p.m., Erik tried to start the car again and it WORKED!!! I'm not joking. Then, he turned it off, started it again and it didn't work. So obviously it has an intermittent problem. Erik thinks it is the starter. Why it couldn't go on when we were trying to get it to work for over 4 hours makes no sense. On the bright side, the day was lousy, but we were able to spend some good quality time together, eat lots of food from Trader Joe's and I didn't have a baby while I was stranded by myself in the parking lot. Win-win-win.

OUR NEW ADDITION

2011-03-17T15:07:00.000-07:00

Well, we did it. We took the big leap. Made the big purchase. Finally entered the '80's. After not owning a microwave for nearly 10 years of marriage, we bought one a few weeks ago. I know. Ca-ray-zay.

Now, when I say "not owning one," this needs to explained. The last home we rented actually came with a microwave, so we did have one for about two years. Although, when I reminded Erik of this, he didn't remember having one at all. That is because it was such a waste of an appliance for us. We've lived very nicely without one for a very long time. It has just been recently that I thought maybe Erik might like one to re-heat leftovers when he works late, and maybe I could use it to melt butter in too.

The buying of it was pretty anti-climactic. My friend was getting a new one, I said how much do you want for your old one, she said, $20, and it was mine. When I told her we had never owned one before, she immediately said, "What, how do you eat corn dogs!?" She was serious too. So, I think today I will address many of the questions and comments we've received during the course of our no microwave marriage.

1. How do you eat corn dogs?

I don't. There was that one time that Erik bought them for the kids, but he put them in the oven. Besides corn dogs are gross.

2. How do you eat popcorn?

Air popper. It tastes better too than that lame-o microwavable stuff.

3. How do you boil water?

It's called a tea kettle. Works really fast.

4. This Tupperware is awesome! It allows you to cook eggs in the microwave in just minutes!

Ever tried a pan on a stove? It also allows you to cook eggs in minutes too!

5. How do you eat leftovers?

It does take awhile. I don't really like leftovers, so it's not that big of an issue for me. I heat them up in the oven or in a pot on the stove.

6. How do your kids eat?

With forks and spoons. Charlie still tends to use his hands quite a bit. Seriously, though, I don't get what owning a microwave has to do with feeding your children.

7. How do you survive?!?!!!!!!

Very nicely, thank you. We've had the microwave for a few weeks and hardly used it. Every time we do use it, we feel like cavemen. It's so foreign to us. We're not really sure what buttons to push, so we just keep hitting stuff until it goes on. Then we move as far away from it as possible as to avoid looking directly into it's devil light and being blinded forever.

8. Why are you anti-microwave?

I'm not anti-microwave. I just think food tastes better when it's not cooked in a microwave. That's it. Maybe it's all in my head, but I don't care.

Oh and just in case you thought to have missed something. NO, I have not had the baby yet. YES, I'm over a week past my due date now.

I WISH I DIDN'T KNOW I WAS PREGNANT

2011-02-28T22:41:00.000-08:00

It's no secret that I love the show I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant. Today, I finally realized why. It is because I am jealous. It just doesn't seem fair that some ladies get to go through pregnancy without even knowing it, and then poof, they sit on the toilet and out falls a healthy baby.

Right now, almost a week before my due date, I wish I didn't know that I was pregnant. Why can't I be on that show!? I hate the waiting game. I hate not knowing if it will be tonight or three weeks away. I clean my room every night before I go to bed, just in case I go into labor at 2 a.m. Erik and I have serious discussions about what size of bowl will be big enough for my placenta. I waddle everywhere. Turning over in bed is a 10 minute process. I feel like a freak show when I go out in public. The last thing I look at before I go to sleep is the tub and birth kit* sitting right next to my side of the bed -

Keep in mind, I am very grateful to be having a baby and am looking forward to another great home birth experience. I'm just a little apprehensive about when the baby will decide to be born. I like to be in control and it drives me nuts not being able to pick the exact time she will make her appearance.

With that being said, I would like the 40 or so well-meaning people who asked me about it at church on Sunday, to know that, yes, I am still pregnant... still very pregnant, and kind of irritable too, if you couldn't tell.

*My birth kit is in an old Spa Baby box that my midwife dropped off. I would never buy one of those. It's a bucket!!

USE THE FORCE, LUKE

2011-02-24T13:31:00.000-08:00

One of the most exciting things about raising children, is that it gives you the perfect opportunity (or excuse) to brainwash someone. Don't tell me we haven't all fantasized about brainwashing someone at some point in our lives! For some people, they might dream about brainwashing their kids to believe in a certain religion or political movement. Long before my kids came along, I decided that I was going to brainwash them to love musicals! My original plan was to buy pretty much every good musical that ever existed (sorry, no Paint Your Wagon) and force my kids to watch them until they loved them as much as me. Then, before I knew it, I had two boys close in age and my dreams of forcing The Sound of Music and West Side Story down their throats was lost somewhere between Transformers and Thomas the Stupid Tank Engine.

I'm learning now, that Erik had his own fantasies of brainwashing our children and the total indoctrination appears to be complete. Any guess what Erik is into?

If you guessed, Spaceballs, you are wrong. Earlier this month when we were all deathly ill at some point, Erik borrowed all six Star Wars movies and now it is a ritual that he watches one of them with the kids every Friday night. (All of them except Episode 3, I won't let him show them that one yet. Although Luke did whisper in my ear today that Anakin turns into Darth Vader in that one. Sorry, spoiler alert for the two of you who have never seen the movies.)

The kids are obsessed. I'm irritated. Star Wars is for nerds. (While musicals are obviously for cool people.) My nerdy family now walks around all day quoting Star Wars and having light saber fights. I just roll my eyes. I tried to sit through The Return of the Jedi the other night, as I have never seen it, and stopped watching after about 20 minutes. You know it's bad when I'm staring at the timer on the DVD player, wondering when the movie will be over. Oh well. More time for me to lie on my bed and play Angry Birds I guess.

The kids thought it was super cool when Erik learned this trick for making your light saber light up in pictures. (Hint: It's a colored pencil held really close to the camera.)

The other night, while I was doing dishes, Erik mentioned that we should take some pregnancy pictures before this baby comes. Since I live in a house full of nerds, I jokingly said, "Can we just do a light saber pose and call it good?" He thought that would be awesome!

So there we have it. 38 weeks pregnant, doing the dishes and holding a fake light saber (colored pencil). How nerdy is that?

36 WEEKS

2011-01-30T15:55:00.000-08:00

Today is day 249 of being pregnant. Most people count their pregnancy in weeks, but I prefer to count it in days. I check off each day in chalk on a wall in my bedroom, you know, just like those prisoners held in solitary confinement for an extended period of time... cause I feel like a prisoner trapped in a big 'ol fat suit. Before I forget, I wanted to jot down a few things to remind people when interacting with huge, irritable, pregnant ladies:

For those of you with pregnant friends -

You do not need to begin every single conversation with "How are you feeling?" or "You're huge!"

Please do not say "almost there" when your pregnant lady friend is only at 36 weeks.

For those of you gents who are lucky enough to have a pregnant wife -

Never ever say to her, "You're just emotional because you are pregnant," even if it's probably true.

Please refrain from making sumo wrestling sounds when she kneels down for family prayer and then struggles to get up again.

Do not mention during church that you really feel inspired to tell her that you guys should have lots of children. Unless you are a Duggar, most women prefer to discuss family size when they are not uncomfortably pregnant.

Also, please don't point out the fact that she pants when walking more than 10 feet. That's rude.

If your really cool friend tells you she is planning a homebirth, please don't say -

"That's so brave of you. If my kid[s] weren't born in the hospital he/she/they would have died!" ( Of course there are high risk situations where babies need to be born in the hospital, but when 90% of the people say this to me, I want to start yelling.)

Or at least hide the disgusted look on your face when you are trying to be supportive.

Finally, if your mommy is pregnant, her belly is not a toy. Don't try to climb on it, ever. It hurts.

WAL-MART AND COMMUNISM

2011-01-21T22:50:00.000-08:00

Ya got trouble right here in our little town, with a capital T, that rhymes with P and that stands for, uh, P-Walmart!

That's right, our little itsy bitsy town is dealing with a huge controversy right now about whether or not to let Wal-mart build a megastore here. There's already been one public hearing, and since the meeting's venue wasn't large enough, they are holding another hearing at the end of this month. I might lose a few friends for posting this, but I'll be daring and say that I support the new Wal-mart. I don't love Wal-mart, but I do love low prices and convenience. Call me crazy.

Or should I say, call me a communist? Here are some of the actual comments posted on our local newspaper's website:

"Buy Walmart and you will support the future invasion of the United States. YOU ARE UNAMERICAN, DISLOYAL AND TREASONOUS!"

I don't get it. People will invade while we are busy shopping? Shopping causes invasions? Invaders will shop? Elaborate please.

"It's UnAmerican to knowingly buy products made in a communist country. Does [this town] support communism? If so, support WalMart."

Is it just me, or is mentioning communism in an argument quickly becoming the new Godwin's Law?

"Most people working for Walmart receive other assistance like MEDI-CAL, food stamps and subsidized housing to make ends meet. "

This is a problem because....?

Finally, here is my favorite comment -

"If I wanted high crime, burglaries, heavy vehicle emission pollution, HEAR MY NEIGHBORS HAVING SEX and all of the negatives of a big city, I would have chosen to remain in Los Angeles."

While this might sound crazy, I have also found this to be true. We only had the unfortunate experience of hearing our neighbors have sex when we lived in close proximity to a Wal-mart. The abominable town? Provo, Utah.

ONE LAST HURRAH

2011-01-13T21:32:00.000-08:00

A few days after Christmas, my favorite mother-in-law called to ask us if we wanted to use a non-refundable resort stay that she had reserved down in Mazatlan, Mexico. She was so desperate for someone to use it that she even offered to watch our kids. (She's crazy like that.) The only catch was that the resort stay was slated to begin about 4 days from her phone call and we had to find a way down there. It seemed unreal. Someone will watch our kids and we get a vacation? How could we say no!?

The next thing I know, Erik and I are hopping on a bus down to Mexico! Here's a picture of the bus dropping us off in downtown Mazatlan. Fancy, huh?

Alright, just kidding, we flew there on an airplane, but that really is a picture to prove that we actually got off the beach and explored Mazatlan one day. In case you were wondering, yes, I was scared of getting kidnapped/my baby cut out of me/being decapitated in Mexico. I blame my paranoia on all those years of living right on the border. That's why we spent the majority of our time with all the other tourists in the fancy resort areas. The other reason being that our Spanish is limited to phrases like, "¿Qué hora es? " and "¿Cuántos años tienes tú?"

Our suite at the resort had a fully equipped kitchen. So, one day we took a pulmonia to Wal-mart to get groceries. Pulmonia is the spanish word for a supercharged golfcart that goes 60 miles per hour. Our driver was blasting Mexican techno music out of these large speakers positioned directly behind us while weaving in and out of traffic. It's just about the most exciting thing you can do when you are 7 months pregnant on vacation. If you couldn't tell, in this picture I am holding on for dear life while going around a corner.

Speaking of thrills, Erik went parasailing. A Mexican guy approached him on the beach by our resort. He was holding a worn out parachute and a rope from the hardware store. The guy pointed out his friend in a boat and told Erik that he would accept 35 American Dollars. No waivers, no sort of safety training, no real communication. In fact, Erik even landed and took off from a crowded beach. I think that for Erik, the sketchiness only made the experience more exciting.

Like I said, there is not a lot that a big pregnant lady can do on vacation. Which is why this was the perfect vacation. I wasn't expected to do anything. Besides sleeping 10 hours a day, we ate a lot too. If you're grossed out by fish, don't look at this picture. This was the best lobster I have ever eaten. I just thought you should know.

Then, when we got really bored, we took turns modeling our cheap sunglasses on the beach. Good times! I could have done this for hours!!

Despite the short notice, I am so glad that we took the opportunity to go on this trip. I can't remember the last time (if ever) that I have taken a vacation so relaxing. The whole trip was so fantastic, that it doesn't even seem like it really happened. I have to keep looking at a seashell on our bathroom counter to remind myself that I really was that relaxed last week. We have a very crazy, but blessed, life. I am grateful.

O CHRISTMAS TREE

2010-12-08T21:20:00.000-08:00

I haven't had time to blog lately because I am too busy vacuuming. No, seriously, the new Dyson came just in time for our first real Christmas tree in 4 years. I always said I would never have a fake one, but then we had the Harbor Freight Special and I got used to how easy it was. However, this year Erik insisted that we get a real one. We were going to make a special event out of it and cut one down at the tree farm down the street, but the prices at the Home Depot tree farm were just so much cheaper.

I don't want to brag, but I took this picture on my iPhone 4.
(I can't believe I have an iPhone. Dreams really do come true.)

We didn't realize how big the tree was until we brought it home and tried to fit it into the house. Note to self: Next time don't get such a big tree. 10 points if you can spot Erik wrestling with it in our front yard.

Like I said, a real tree is definitely more work. I vacuum up a lot of needles. I need to remember to water it. It fell over onto the kids and I about 10 times before Erik stabilized it. Just minor things. No life threatening injuries... yet.

Honestly, though, I really like having a real tree. I love it. The smell is fantastic. To compare, here is that ridiculous fake Harbor Freight Tree from last year -

And the glorious real tree tonight -

I'm throwing away that Harbor Freight tree tomorrow.

IS IT FOREVER YET?

2010-11-23T21:11:00.001-08:00

9 years ago today my college roommate and fiance convinced me to climb up on these rocks in my wedding dress for this picture. What was I thinking? That was CRAZY! I hate peer pressure.

Flash forward and we aren't exactly the "daredevils" we used to be. Here we are in 2010 in a less dramatic location (outside the Los Angeles Temple) -

It doesn't seem like we've been married for 9 years, but then I start looking at all our stuff. This is about the time when the wedding gifts break and I wish I would have kept all of those Mikasa platters I returned. Someone recently told me that her parents threw a party for their 10th anniversary and requested that people bring gifts. I thought it sounded pretty tacky, however, if anyone wants to start that trend, I welcome it. Just hurry up with making "10 year wedding showers" cool in time for me to have one next year. I have a lot of stuff to replace.

Speaking of replacing stuff, to celebrate our 9 year anniversary we are doing something crazy. (No, we're not buying a microwave. That would be nuts!!) We're buying our first fancy vacuum. I ordered it today and can't wait for it to arrive!

The only downside to celebrating with a vacuum is that this means we are officially boring and old. That's okay, I knew it would happen eventually.

Happy Anniversary to us! It's gonna suck! (Ha ha, that was a vacuum pun. Good one, eh?)

JOSHUA

2010-11-16T14:52:00.000-08:00

For those of you who didn't know, my nephew, Joshua, passed away last Tuesday. Rather than re-tell the story, here is an excerpt from what was included in his funeral program:

Joshua Lonati Uipi, precious son of Salesi and Kaci Uipi, was born October 10, 2010, in Phoenix, Arizona. He was only able to spend one short week of his life as a happy, healthy baby boy before returning to St. Joseph's Hospital. His family watched helplessly as sweet Joshua grew sicker and sicker each day despite excellent care. After three difficult weeks and much prayer and fasting, Baby Joshua returned home to his Heavenly Father.

Loving family members surrounded his small hospital bed and sang I am a Child of God, then took turns holding him in the rocking chair for many hours. At 2:58 p.m. on November 9, 2010, Joshua passed peacefully in the arms of his mother. The day before he died doctors diagnosed him with Chronic Granulomatous Disease, a rare genetic disorder that hampered his ability to fight the yeast infection that attacked his lungs. CGD occurs once in every one million persons. All who knew Joshua agree that he truly was one in a million.

Kaci and Salesi at the burial

So on Friday, I drove out to Phoenix for the funeral. Erik had to work so he wasn't able to come, but it actually turned out to be a blessing in disguise since I was able to leave the kids in California. The entire weekend was so emotionally draining, I can't imagine how hard it would have been to have the kids there.

Not having the kids this weekend, left me with a lot of time to think. I spent a lot of time wondering why this hasn't happened to me yet. Why do I have two healthy children? It felt strange being an obviously pregnant woman at a funeral for a one month old. People kept asking me if I was excited to have a girl and all I could think was, "Well, yeah, if she lives!" I didn't say that, but I wanted to. My sister thought Joshua was healthy and then less than a month later he dies. I thought about how quickly life can change. I don't mean to sound angry, it's just been an emotional few weeks. My heart breaks for my sister and brother-in-law. It's one of those things that I wish so badly that I could fix for them, but I can't. No matter how many times someone says that "he is in a better place," it still doesn't change the shock of suddenly not having a baby here that you were expecting.

Ugh.

November has been crazy. I'm looking forward to the rest of this month being less chaotic. For the first weekend in 3 weeks, I'll actually be home!

GROWING UP IS HARD TO DO

2010-11-08T21:10:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, Charlie weaned himself from the pacifier that has been helping put him to sleep for the past year and a half. Ugh.

I know it sounds crazy. I should be happy, but I am angry. I knew it was over the minute I tried to put him down for a nap and he threw the pacifier across the room. I kept picking it up to return it to him and he kept throwing it back across the room. This went on for about 10 minutes until I finally gave up. Charlie wins. No more pacifier.

Most people won't admit that their 2 and a half year old uses a pacifier to go to sleep, but I don't care. I loved that thing. Charlie would crawl into bed during the day just to suck on it. He was an ease to put to sleep. His naps last week were an average of 3 hours long! However, now that Charlie has decided he no longer needs a pacifier, he won't take naps or go to sleep very easily. The day seems twice as long when Charlie doesn't nap.

I'm tired. Next child better wean me slowly from the pacifier. This quick method is really hard.

I BELIEVE I CAN FLY

2010-11-01T21:47:00.000-07:00

So, I've pretty much decided that Erik getting his pilot's license is awesome. This weekend we took a very quick and impromptu trip out to Arizona. The longest I had ever flown with him before this was about 15 minutes. Yes, it was a little ~~scary~~ exciting at times, but who cares?! I'd choose a 2 hour 15 minute plane flight to my parent's house in Arizona over a 6 1/2 hour car trip any day. I now understand why Erik wants to buy a plane so badly. I could get really used to flying in little planes.

Traveling with children in a small plane made the flight even more exciting. Imagine a car trip where you can't stop to use the bathroom or let your children out to run around! Yeah, fun! At one point, Luke fell asleep and started snoring into the headset. When I turned around to take it off of him, I noticed that he had drooled all over the microphone. Disgusting.

The impetus for this quick trip was to see my new nephew, Joshua. He was born full-term on 10/10/10. After a short stay in the NICU for what the doctors believed was aspirated meconium, he was sent home. 5 or 6 days passed and my sister, Kaci, noticed that he had a fever and took him to the hospital. The doctors performed several tests and finally determined that he had somehow aspirated candida (yeast), and as a result, his breathing was being severely impaired. In the week and a half that has followed he has progressively grown worse.

This is a picture that my sister sent me on the day he was checked back into the hospital. I have some photos from this weekend, but I couldn't bring myself to post them. He is now hooked up to a ventilator, sedated, and fed through a tube in his nose. It's heartbreaking, but my sister and her husband have such a positive attitude, although I know the last thing Kaci and my brother-in-law, Salesi, expected was to be spending the first months of their son's life in a hospital room. You just never know what life is going to throw at you. I wish that I could flash forward a couple of months to see him healthy and out of the hospital.

Speaking of positive attitude, Kaci insisted that we take pictures in front of the PICU sign on their hospital floor. I found it a little strange to be smiling during something so traumatic, but then I remembered that Kaci was the same one who was upset when we were told we couldn't take pictures at the Holocaust Museum a few summers ago.

SIMPLIFY

2010-10-28T15:37:00.000-07:00

Am I the only one who laughs each time I see a "Simplify" sign in someone's home? They are becoming quite trendy right now. I have one too. Mine is written in crayon on a sticky note stuck to my bathroom mirror. Now, that's a real "Simplify" sign.

Speaking of simplifying my life, I was stressing out over the kids' Halloween costumes. I spent hours trying to figure out how to make "Talking French Fries" and the "In-n-Out" guy. Not that it wasn't feasible. I read all y'all's blogs and I know some people find a lot of pleasure in spending hours creating their child's Halloween costume, but for me, it just seemed tiring. That was when I discovered this great thing called online shopping. I sat the kids down at the computer with me and let them pick out new costumes. Easiest thing ever. I always knew throwing money at a problem was the best solution.

Luke chose this Iron Man costume from Target. Charlie wanted to be a bumble bee from Old Navy. So glad this is done.

Something else that seems crazy, and kind of flattering, is the number of Halloween parties we've been invited to this year. I don't ever remember it being this overwhelming. Maybe it's the age of my kids and the fact that everyone feels the need to overcompensate since Halloween is on a Sunday this year. So, I found another way to simplify when asked to bring a treat -

Pillsbury Ready to Bake Cookies! You can't dumb down cookie making anymore than this. True, they are full of junk, but kids don't care! A mother at Luke's preschool party today complained about staying up all night to make these cute chocolate dipped pretzels that looked like scary fingers. I laughed to myself as she spoke, thinking about the 30 seconds I spent putting those cat cookies on a cookie sheet.

FREE GIRLY STUFF

2010-10-14T11:08:00.000-07:00

Since we found out yesterday that we are having a girl (more on that later), it seemed fitting to post the codes that our friend, Troy, has given me to download his Fairy Princess app for kids off of iTunes.

Just click redeem at the bottom of the iTunes page and enter in the code. These are good for another 23 days or so.

MM9RHKKMTYFJ
KPX7RR4XWNH6
HHK3K3HTTR4K
N79KAJ9AM7XY

Yay for free stuff!

BACK TO THE GRIND

2010-10-05T15:00:00.000-07:00

Here is a picture of Shaker Village (woo hoo!) with my nieces.

Since returning home early Sunday morning from my week away in New Hampshire, I've spent the last few days slowly adjusting to being a Mom again. It's weird how quickly I got used to not cleaning, changing diapers or cooking meals. I had a great trip. New England was beautiful, although I have learned that looking at leaves is kind of an old person thing to do. (We ran into a lot of Blue Hairs.) Hey, I still had fun.

And Erik? He survived playing Mr. Mom for a week. Good thing I wasn't around though. I was going through the pictures on his phone from last week and the kids were definitely spoiled.

The first thing I noticed was the numerous pictures of Erik feeding the kids corn dogs. Really? Corn dogs? Gross. I have never fed the kids corn dogs in my entire life and I probably never will.

My first thought when I saw this was that Charlie died. Actually, Erik kept the kids up really late one night. The next day he found Charlie asleep in the middle of the day like this. Nice.

Ah, yes. The McDonald's pictures. I have discovered several new "happy meal" type toys since returning.

This was a good picture. He took the kids on an impromptu flight to Camarillo for dinner one night. They fell asleep in the back of the plane.

At first I thought Erik was changing Charlie's diaper in this picture, but then he explained that this is what he did with the kids so that he could use the bathroom at Winco. Uh, yeah, totally safe.

Don't worry, there is a picture of Erik changing Charlie's diaper too... in the trunk of our car!

In all seriousness though, I really couldn't have asked for a better gift than for Erik to take a week off to watch the kids. When he picked me up from the airport, he brought me food in a cooler, along with napkins and cutlery. He said, "I brought you some food. I'm all Mom'd out now!" Knowing how crazy his life is right now, it was one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me.

THE LONGEST FLIGHT EVER

2010-09-24T20:50:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow I will be traveling for around 13 hours. No, I'm not going to Europe. I just happened to buy a cheap plane ticket to the East Coast with a lot of layovers. It might sound excruciating to some, but I don't mind the travel time. That's because Erik has agreed to take a week off of work to watch the kids while I go visit my sister-in-law, Trine, and her family, in New Hampshire. (Don't worry, Erik's getting something out of this too. It's an even trade.)

Things I am looking forward to doing tomorrow:

Watching Me and Orson Welles on my portable DVD player.
Finishing reading The Unit.
Starting The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society
Doing crossword puzzles.
Reading the newspaper.
Eating dinner alone.
Taking a nap.
Walking aimlessly around airports with only myself to worry about.
Watching tv shows on my iPod.

Now that I've written this all out, maybe I should have added a few more layovers to my already outrageously long trip. I don't know if I'll have enough time to do everything I want.

Do I sound like I hate my family? I don't. I promise. I love them dearly and I know I will miss them. I also know that having 13 hours to myself is going to be AWESOME... even if it is while traveling.

I DON'T BITE, BUT HE DOES

2010-09-17T13:11:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure what to be angrier about. The fact that Luke is lying or that he is so painfully bad at it. Don't get me wrong, he is a great kid, most of the time. I'm just starting to get really irritated by how much he lies.

As I mentioned, the lying isn't even convincing. The other night he comes to me, his face covered in chocolate -

Me: What are you eating?

Luke: Nothing.

Me: Your face is covered in chocolate.

Luke: No it isn't.

Me: Stop lying and go wash your face.

You think that's bad? Try what happened last week -

Charlie: Luke bit my back!

Me: Luke, did you bite Charlie's back?

Luke: No! He bit his own back.

Me: Really? Can you bite your own back?

Luke: Yes. (Then he proceeds to try to bite his own back.)

Sheesh!

I'm trying to stay positive, so I will tell you that at least I could laugh about the biting incident because Charlie was wearing such an ironic shirt. It said, "I don't bite, but he does." So true.

THE CHAIR

2010-09-09T22:30:00.000-07:00

Time to come clean about my lack of blogging. For those of you who didn't know, we're expecting baby #3 in March. I'm just tired and don't feel like doing anything. Yes, even blogging feels like too much work.

I knew Erik would be excited about having another baby, but I didn't know how excited until he announced to me about a month ago that he will be building a birthing chair for me. Initially, I thought, why stop there? Let's build a birth hut in the backyard too!* So now, it's official. Not only are we weirdos for setting up a tub in our bedroom and doing a home birth, but my husband now wants to build a birthing chair for me in the garage too.

You say, "Can't you just buy one of those off of Craigslist or something?" I say, "You don't know my husband. He hates to buy anything he can build himself." Actually, I did a quick internet search for birthing chairs and they're kind of hard to find. Go figure. Not everyone wants to get a splinter in their butt while pushing a baby out... including me. I didn't ask for a birthing chair, this was completely his idea, but I'm also not one to turn down a gift, regardless of how strange it will be.

Does looking at these chairs make you nauseous? It has that effect on me. I know how the baby is going to come out, but to be reminded of it by a piece of furniture is just a little too much for me.

I'm sure this will be a continuing story....

*Totally joking about the birth hut. I know it's hard to tell with us.

HE WORKS HARD FOR THE MONEY

2010-09-01T13:33:00.000-07:00

I read a story on Fox Business today called 7 Steps to Becoming a One Income Family. According to the article, only 21% of American married couples survive on one person in the workforce. All I got from this article is that Erik and I must be a couple of freaks to make this whole one income thing work for our family. Of course we don't own a pool or an airplane, but somehow we still manage to get by.

Long ago, before I sat around all day at home to do nothing but eat bon-bons and watch Oprah, I did work. I even made more money than my husband when I quit my job (gasp!) to stay home and be a Mom. I was never scared though, I don't know why. I always assumed that the pros of staying home outweighed the cons. Besides, once you deduct childcare expenses, a work wardrobe, all those "lattes", eating lunch out (and probably dinner because I'd be too tired to cook), and commuting, it didn't seem worth it for the little money I'd be left making.

Anyway, I'll get off my soapbox for now. I'm just grateful that I am in a position where this works for us, because for 79% of Americans (that statistic blows me away) it does not or they don't try to make it work.

ANIMAL STYLE

2010-08-31T06:30:00.000-07:00

I am trying to be proactive (the adjective, not the acne treatment) about Halloween this year. This way if the kids want to be something weird, I will have weeks to find Ebay and thrift store deals to piece together their costumes.

Luke wants to be an In-n-Out employee. That's fine as long as it doesn't turn prophetic of what his life career will be. I found this one online and actually got excited about how easy it will be.

Next, I asked Charlie. Since he is 2, he screamed his answer at me -

"TALKING FRENCH FRIES!!"

What? Not only is that dorky, but he's going to have to wear a name tag for anyone to know what he is. I found this one online from the Pottery Barn for only $100 -

It's cute, but not $100 cute. I just checked Ebay and people are actually bidding $100 on this costume. Silly people. If I'm going to spend $100 on my child's costume it better be for something like Darth Vadar with a real light saber. Charlie wants Erik to be "ketchup and mustard" and me to be a hamburger. He laughed for a long time at himself.

Don't hate me, but I'm trying to talk my kids into being Woody and Buzz this year using borrowed costumes. I know it's generic, but I'm tired and it sounds easier than making a french fry costume out of yellow pool noodles.

IF THE SHOE FITS

2010-08-28T21:20:00.000-07:00

Luke's been taking more pictures. However, I will only post one because there is very little variety -

Almost every picture is of his shoes! Notice his signature move of putting his shoes on the wrong feet. Other people seem to care more than he or I do that he wears them this way.

Thanks to Skechers amazing marketing campaign, Luke is obsessed with his shoes. He sleeps with the shoe box every night, begs to take it to the park, and forces us to read the ridiculously bad comic that accompanied the shoes. Preschool starts next week and when I asked him what he wanted to bring on his first day, he said, "My shoes!" My response was, "You are a boy still, right?"

I found this picture of myself when I was the same age as Luke. I was as far from fashionable as possible. Notice the mushroom/bowl haircut and homemade green necklace worn over my red turtleneck. (Perhaps this was cool in 1982.) I definitely didn't know clothing brand names as a 4 year old. That's why it is so shocking to see Luke's infatuation with this brand of shoes. We don't even have television, so it's not like he's watching commercials! If this continues, I may need to consider starting a special savings account now to fund his clothing budget for when he gets older.

WITH LOVE, FROM ALCOHOLLY

2010-08-23T13:39:00.000-07:00

Nobody freak out. I've decided to start blogging again.*

As I was going through this summer's pictures, I realized that I never posted the story about my mother's birthday present from Alcoholly!

Sometime in the middle of June, Alcoholly handed me a beautifully wrapped gift for my mother's birthday. The next day, she left this message on my phone:

"Dearheart. Please get a pencil and write this down. [long pause] 'Only to be opened in front of husband.' Now tape it to your mother's gift. You see, Dearheart, your mother's birthday gift is some of my lingerie. Your mother informed me that this is acceptable in your religion, although it is only to be viewed between husband and wife. It is crucial that she does not open this in public."

As if I was going to let my mom open a package containing Alcoholly's old lingerie in private! This is going on the internet.

So, in July, weeks after my mom's birthday, I was able to deliver the scandalous package to her in Arizona. My imagination was running wild about what was inside. I had never seen Alcoholly's lingerie before, but one time Erik was moving something in her closet and a whole bunch of it fell on his head. He couldn't ever really talk about it without becoming nauseated. My sister, Caitlin, even came over to watch my mom open it! (Ironically, my Dad was at work.)

Now, here's the disappointing part of the story: It really wasn't that exciting.

In fact, after we opened it up, Caitlin put it on and ran around the house singing, "I Could Have Danced All Night," because it wasn't all that funny. You know, like this -

As a bonus, Alcoholly included this big pair of purple Granny Wide Sides, which are made to look even bigger in this picture since Caitlin is a size 14 in girls.

So, now you know how I spent my summer vacation.

*Mostly because Kathryn sent me a sweet death threat if I didn't post anything new.

GO ASK ALICE

2010-07-29T15:37:00.000-07:00

I am just about done reading The Help. Excellent book. It makes me crave good fried chicken and green beans with bacon. Most of all, I find myself daydreaming about having maids like the women in the book. (Well, a maid without the racism and poor treatment.) I think having a maid would be absolutely awesome, don't you?

My sister recently asked me what I would do if Erik died. I gave her some dumb answer about going to law school, but the real answer is that I would probably use the life insurance money to hire a maid. That is because Erik scoffs at the thought of hiring help. He thinks it's a ridiculous idea that we would ever be above scrubbing our own toilets. I think it's ridiculous that he won't consider it. (We both think it's ridiculous that we even have this conversation because it's highly unlikely we'll ever be in a financial position to hire a maid anyway.) Yet, one can still day dream, right?

In the dream world my husband won't let ever happen, my maid would be really cool. She'd teach me how to cook, take care of my kids so I could run off to lunch with my friends at the last minute, wear a uniform like Alice (from the Brady Bunch) and work about 50 hours a week, but not live with us. She'd specialize in changing dirty diapers, potty training, cooking amazing meals, cleaning bathrooms, yard work, and not talking back. She would also accept no more than $2 an hour in fear of exploiting our kindness. Yet, she would be so very happy working for us.

The funniest part about our maid conversations, besides being pointless, is that Erik always insinuates that if I had a maid, I would be lazy. Not true. I really believe that having a maid would allow me to be a happier, more well-rounded, person... the kind of person who doesn't smell like kid poop all day long.

(If you ever know someone who wants to work for free and not steal our stuff, let me know.)

HELP, I NEED SOMEBODY

2010-07-22T11:51:00.000-07:00

I need help. Luke is getting too big for me to pick up and I don't know how to discipline him anymore. Hugs and timeouts don't seem to be working. Pepper spray and tasers, unfortunately, aren't an option.

Does anyone have good discipline books to recommend? I will order them today if they are good.

NO BOUNDARIES

2010-07-19T16:35:00.000-07:00

The rule in our house is that Luke can not ride his bike past the entrance to our cul-de-sac. Even then, I have to be outside watching him ride. He must stay on the sidewalk and he's not allowed to cross the street. Therefore, he rides his bike to one end, stops, turns his bike around, and rides on the sidewalk all the way back to the other end.

Our "scary" neighborhood.

Now that I wrote it out, I realize that I sound a bit like a crazy overprotective mother. Maybe so, but come on now, he's only 4!

Last week, I was standing in the front of the house watching Luke ride around, when he turned to look at me and defiantly said that he was going to ride out of the cul-de-sac. When he returned from his little joyride, 5 minutes later, I told him that he had to come inside to be punished. This eventually led to a big yelling match across the cul-de-sac (I'm sure our neighbors just love us). Finally, I, along with the help of our 10 year old neighbor, had to literally drag Luke back into the house while he was kicking and screaming. This was not my proudest moment.

After the dust settled, I started to think. Maybe I am too strict with Luke. Our neighborhood doesn't seem that dangerous. Maybe I should lighten up on his boundaries. After all, when I was 5, my mother used to let me walk home from school alone and it seemed really far! I even google mapped it out to see how far it really was, it turned out to be a whopping .4 miles. It's a miracle I survived.

The Long Walk Home.

Which leads to this question... does anyone really let their kids roam around the neighborhood freely and walk home from school anymore? Or is that a thing of the past?

SUPER GLUE

2010-07-13T17:58:00.000-07:00

Last week, Luke hit his head on the corner of a coffee table. There was blood everywhere. It made a pretty good hole in his head. I panicked and called Erik, "Come home right now! I might need to take Luke to get stitches!" He rushed home, looked at it, and calmly said, "Super glue."

I used to think using super glue on your body was pretty sketchy. The scar is hard to see in this picture, but 5 days later and it looks pretty good! I'm a believer. Really, who needs health insurance when we have super glue? I'm going to use it on everything now.*

*If you report me to CPS I'm going to claim this was a joke.

CRASH

2010-07-06T14:10:00.000-07:00

I have found myself saying lately that Luke is calming down. He's 4 now. That's a pleasant age, right?

This morning Luke tipped over my shopping cart while we were at Trader Joe's. Charlie and the food were in the shopping cart. It made a loud noise and drew lots of unwanted attention. Luckily, Charlie wasn't hurt too badly and we didn't have any glass bottles in our cart. It didn't mean I wasn't any less mortified when an employee came over to us and offered to put some cold tri-tip in a plastic bag so that we could put it on Charlie's head.

Fortunately, Erik was with me. To be with another adult when these crazy things happen is a rare thing for me. I'm normally by myself when my kids act up. After we left the store and got into the car, Erik said, "We should write these things down so that Luke can see what crazy stuff he did when he is older." I said, "Have you not read my blog?"

I think I might be too traumatized to ever take my kids grocery shopping again.

THERE'S A PARTY IN MY TUMMY

2010-07-01T14:23:00.000-07:00

I know this post is like so 2007, but Luke discovered Yo Gabba Gabba last week and he is obsessed. I rented two DVD's containing episodes from Netflix for him and he watches one every single day.

I, on the other hand, want to poke my eye out with a stick.

The colors. The characters make me think some performer is suffocating or dying of heat stroke in their costumes. The songs stay in my head all day. I know you're thinking that I should just walk away. I can't. Watching Jack Black dance around in orange spandex is so strange that I can't help but watch it. The show is giving me a major headache, yet I keep coming back for more.

Something I've decided is that I can't stand this guy. His name is Brobee.

He's like that annoying kid who cries about everything and gets his feelings hurt way too easily. He really grates on my nerves any time I see him. Maybe they could have a "very special episode" where he dies? Just a suggestion.

Oh, and then there are the dancing interludes -

Do you see what I mean? So strange, I can't help but watch.

THE HELMET

2010-06-29T09:21:00.000-07:00

Tell me. At what age should I worry that my kid is socially awkward? I hope it's not 4.

Luke has recently been obsessed with wearing an old motorcycle helmet he found in the shed. He literally wears it for so long that his hair is sweaty and nasty when he takes it off... if he takes it off.

He wears it while eating. What a mess. You can see in this picture that he is getting yogurt all over the helmet.

He wears it while he "washes" his bike. (This is a great activity. It kept my kids entertained for almost an hour. They "washed" a lot of their toys.)

I stopped fighting it and let him wear it in public. How can this be comfortable? I do not know.

I love the look on Erik's face when Luke is greeting him at the airport wearing his helmet. On the bright side, I do worry less about Luke hurting himself when he tries to do crazy things. I kind of wish Erik would wear the helmet all the time too.

MOVIE REVIEW: TOY STORY 3

2010-06-22T21:45:00.000-07:00

I probably don't need to say much about Toy Story 3 since most people have seen it by now. If you haven't seen it yet, you've likely heard that it was amazing, a real feel-good film, and the animation was so much better than the original. It truly was a good movie. Not only did I get to spend some real quality time with my family, but I also discovered that I cried harder in Toy Story 3 than any movie featuring an animal death, ever. Does this make me a heartless person? (Don't answer that.)

In fact, animal deaths in movies kind of make me laugh because the people get so worked up about it. For example, while watching Marley and Me, I, really annoyed at the end, screamed at the t.v., "Just get another dog, people! Duh!" (Come on, I would never intentionally hurt an animal. )

I'm digressing. Back to the movie.

TOYS, I got choked up in a movie about toys. Damn, you, Pixar. All those toys wanted was to be loved forever by Andy. Was it to much to ask to go to college with him? I cried like a baby in that movie.

My Old Toys, Today

We came home from the movie and I surveyed my kids' toys. I wondered to myself if our toys get up and march around the house while we are sleeping. I looked at the toys that I played with as a kid, the same ones that my boys play with today, and thought about how happy those toys must be to still be in my possession after all these years. I opened the door of the Fisher Price Barn and felt comforted by the "moo" sound. It made me feel like a really good person. I may not have a pet, but I do take care of my toys.

GRADE: (This was a movie review, remember?) A

WORLD'S EASIEST PIZZA COMEDY 4U GAY ROCKET IDIOT'S TRAFFIC SCHOOL

2010-06-18T13:30:00.000-07:00

Ugh. Traffic School.

Up until yesterday, I had only done traffic school once before in my life. That was in Utah. I went down to the police station and watched a bunch of videos about drunk driving. It was not funny at all.

However, in the "far superior" California where everything must be entertaining, they do things a little differently here. When you sign up for traffic school, the State sends you a list of about 200 approved programs. You pick one, based on the name, take the class, and the certificate of completion is automatically sent to the court.

So... about that list of schools. At first I thought the State sent me the wrong list because every name sounded like a school to learn how to be a comedian. Some real examples:

A Funny Traffic School
Laugh A Lot Online Traffic School
Fast-Easy-Happy-Online Traffic School (Asian?)
Improv-The Comedy Club presents Traffic School
Fun N Cheap Comedy
I'll Never Speed Again Comedy Traffic School
Buckle Up and Chuckle

Then I saw the schools that offered "free" pizza and comedy. Very tempting:

Pizza For Your Comedians 2 (Better than the first one?)
Pizza 4U Comedians

Then I thought of choosing one of these:

Rocket Traffic School (In honor of Erik.)
Gay Community Traffic School (A way for like minded people to meet.)
Finally a Gay Traffic School (Yes, finally.)
Autobahn Traffic School (Learn how to drive fast? I don't get it.)
8 Hour Traffic School (WHAT?!? This is going to take 8 hours!!!)
I'll Never Speed Again Traffic School (Yeah right!)

Ultimately, I chose an online school called The World's Easiest Traffic School. I knew I picked the right one when its homepage said it was actually called The World's Easiest Traffic Comedy School. Great. Easy and laughing for hours. Who could ask for more?

Guess what!? The World's Easiest Traffic Comedy School wasn't so funny. Here's a sample joke:

"My car is really old. My headlights have cataracts!"

Uh, yeah. Laughing hysterically. If that's not funny enough for you, interspersed in the text are these "Silly Signs" like this one -

As the wife of someone who works at an airport, I stared at this picture for awhile trying to figure out what made it so silly.

You know what was funny? The school itself. You may be wondering, like Erik, how they keep people from just clicking through the entire text in 5 minutes and then looking up the answers online while taking the final exam. The traffic school randomly puts strange phrases in the text for you to write down. So, about a third of the 40 question final is about remembering a phrase like, "Cats eat boogers too." in order to prove you read the text. Now that's funny.

While it wasn't as entertaining as I had hoped, I did complete the whole online course in about 3 hours while my kids were destroying the house. I was grateful I didn't sign up for the 8 hour Traffic School. Why would you name a traffic school that?!

MOVIE REVIEW: VALENTINE'S DAY

2010-06-16T14:41:00.001-07:00

Wow, that was bad. I mean, painfully, bad.

Last night, we rented Valentine's Day from Netflix. Never heard of it? You might know it from it's alternate title, Let's See How Many Celebrities We Can Cram Into This Awful Movie. I don't know who I felt worse for... Erik being forced to watch this movie with me or the good actors who were stuck in a bad story. Since the actors were getting paid, I choose Erik. I'm gonna owe him.

I wanted this movie to be good. The trailer was good. Like I mentioned before, there were too many actors. There wasn't enough time to give adequate attention to any one story. I felt like a lot of actors were in it as a favor to the director or just to pick up a paycheck. They could have easily cut 2 or 3 stories out of the movie, spent more time on the rest, and it might have actually been decent.

Ensemble movies don't have to be awful like this. A few years ago I watched a fantastic Clean Flicks version of Love Actually. (Movies edited by Clean Flicks are notoriously bad so I can only imagine how great the real version was.) Even He's Just Not That Into You was better than this and that's saying something because I hate movies about infidelity. Good romantic comedies feel so rare, especially after watching this piece of garbage last night.

GRADE: D

I LOVE THIS KID

2010-06-15T08:30:00.000-07:00

Last week while I was busily trying to pack up and clean the apartment in San Diego, I decided to forgo Charlie's nap since we'd be in the car later that afternoon anyway. Without my knowledge, he sneaked into the closet where his bed had been set up during the week, found his pacifier and blanket, laid down, and went to sleep at his normal nap time. All on his own.

I found him like this and couldn't help but smile. What can I say? He has a really strict schedule.

PANTS ON THE GROUND

2010-06-14T13:43:00.000-07:00

I told Luke to smile and this is his honest, legitimate, attempt at a normal smile for the camera. Poor kid. This was taken 30 minutes before we needed to leave the house for Luke's first day of swimming lessons today. Eager? Oh yes. Just as I expected, he did great. He did not want to hold on to the wall, kept jumping in, kicking all over the place, and going underwater like crazy. Our problem with Luke in the water has always been that he thinks he knows how to swim. Hopefully by the end of this summer, it won't be a joke anymore and he really will.

I'm glad Luke did well, because Charlie did not. He hates having to sit on the side of the pool and watch his brother swim. It was so bad that while I was looking the other way for 15 seconds he took off all his clothes. I caught him completely naked, with his diaper around his ankles, waddling over to the pool ladder to get in. It was a chore just to keep his pants on during Luke's entire 50 minute lesson. He wanted in so badly.

I don't know if this is legal, but I've made the executive decision not to stick around the pool during Luke's lessons. I feel comfortable enough since we know so many of the teachers and parents of other students. As much as I would love to watch Luke swim, it's not that fun wrestling with a 2 year old to keep his clothes on for 50 minutes. Not fun at all.

QUALITY TIME

2010-06-11T09:28:00.000-07:00

Since we drove 2 cars to San Diego, Erik and I each took one child on the trip home. Charlie chose to go with Daddy in the big truck and Luke wanted to go with me.

Luke talked to me non-stop for 4 hours straight.

Some highlights of my trip with Luke include -

- He made up a game, "Okay, Mommy, I'm going to say some words and then you guess what letter they start with - PEANUTS, PIZZA, AND PENIS. Is it A, D, or P!?"

- He explained to me that "cows poop milk into buckets for the farmers to put in bottles."

- When we stopped at Jack-in-the Box for dinner, he ran around the restaurant three times screaming at the top of his lungs, "I LOVE THIS PLACE! I LOVE THIS PLACE! I LOVE THIS PLACE!!"

- Told me his 4 year old cousin, Wyatt, knows how to drive a real race car, and then explained how.

- After passing an Enterprise Vanpool with a flying car on the side of it (see above picture), he explained to me for 20 minutes how it works, where the wings are hidden on the side of the van and how our car could never fly like that van.

- When I said, "Luke, why don't you close your eyes and go to sleep." He responded, "Okay, you go to sleep too, Mommy." When I told him I couldn't because I was driving, he said, "Yes you can, Silly!"

RELEASE FROM WORK

2010-06-10T13:40:00.000-07:00

I finally went to the Urgent Care last night and guess what?! I have a cold. A really bad cold. Evidently, I must be some sort of hypochondriac, because what kind of idiot goes into the Urgent Care for a cold?

Oh well, the $10 co-pay was worth it because I got a prescription for Robitussin with codeine and this little gem -

I showed this letter to Erik and he just laughed, "Being a Mom isn't like a real job." I know, Erik, oh, how I know.

I'm feeling a lot better today, probably because of the six hours of television I let the kids watch yesterday while I laid on the couch [wow, it looks even worse when I write it out]. To get over my guilt, I decided to take the kids to the beach this morning.

Being at the beach today made me sad that we didn't do more fun things while we were in San Diego this week. Oh well, till the next time.

AH-CHOO

2010-06-09T15:12:00.001-07:00

Despite my mother's pleas to boycott San Diego, I decided to spend the week with Erik while he's working down here. Not so much because I have nothing to do at home, more because I am sick. I figured it was at least better to be sick with a husband to help out at night, rather than having no husband around at all. Now that I am writing this out it sounds extremely selfish that I drugged myself up just long enough to drive down here for help. I'm sure my husband loves his sick wife following him around everywhere. Oh well.

In addition to being sick, I haven't had a voice since Monday night. I never realized how much I rely on my voice to discipline my kids. Clapping my hands intensely and giving them enthusiastic thumbs up's don't have the same effect as ~~yelling~~ speaking sternly. I feel this strange kinship to Ariel from the Little Mermaid and people who don't speak English.

When I decided to be a stay-at-home mom, it never occurred to me that I would occasionally have to be sick and still watch my kids. I feel like I'll never get better because the kids will never give me enough time to really rest. I'm not complaining, just telling you how it is. I'm not a very good sick person. Can you tell?

Time to go take some more Dayquil.

CHICKEN POX

2010-06-06T14:55:00.000-07:00

I immunize my kids begrudgingly. I say "begrudgingly" because I can see the pros and cons of both sides. My hippie mom didn't immunize me until I entered college and I survived. However, for some reason, I just feel like it's the right thing for my family. So,I give my kids alll the immunizations except for one -

CHICKEN POX

Why?

Because it sounds stupid.

No, I have not done any research. Yes, I realize that my reasoning is idiotic. It's just that every time the doctor asks me if I want to give one of my kids the chicken pox shot, I think about when I had the chicken pox. What's so bad about having the chicken pox? It was a rite of passage! I got to stay home from school for a week and watch television. Awesome childhood memories.

While we were in D.C. last week, my sister-in-law, Else, who was watching Charlie, called to tell me that she thought her daughter had chicken pox. "Really?" I said, "Oh, I hope you're right. That would be great!" Unfortunately, she didn't have the chicken pox, which is a real bummer because now I'm worried my kids might get it as adults and die from it. Then I am going to feel really bad about writing this post.

Sorry, kids.

CLIMB EVERY MOUNTAIN

2010-06-03T14:58:00.000-07:00

The Friday before last, Erik's old friend from high school, Patrick, texted him from the Canary Islands to tell him he was getting married in Washington, D.C. in exactly one week. So naturally, the next day we made arrangements for the kids and bought ourselves airplane tickets to fly out for the wedding on the following Thursday. (Here's a tip, if you want a good deal on airplane tickets, do not buy them 5 days in advance.)

Sounds fun, right? A spontaneous romantic 6 day getaway for a good friend's wedding? Well, we later found out that there was a catch. The wedding ceremony would be held on the top of a mountain. Literally. We would be leaving at 5 a.m. to drive 2 hours to hike 8 miles. We were told that the "strenuous" mountain hike would include "scrambling" and "rock face." Even though everyone knows that an East Coast mountain is actually more like a West Coast hill, I couldn't help but freak out.

Please don't get me wrong. I can see the reasoning behind wanting to get married on the top of a mountain. The adrenaline from the hike. The scenic view. It would be fun. However, I'm just kind of a wuss when it comes to anything strenuous. After googling the words, "scrambling" and "rock face", I was convinced that I either needed to feign illness or pray that something would change these plans. (Saying I didn't want to do the hike wasn't a real option.)

Well, guess what? God answers prayers!

The afternoon before we left, we received an email stating that due to forecasted rain, the ceremony instead would be taking place at a shelter near a lake, followed by mud football. I enthusiastically danced around the house, yelling, "Hallelujah! I can be lazy!!" The meet time had also been changed to 6 a.m. instead of 5. Boo-yah!

Patrick and Meg's wedding was really nice, simple, and sweet. It didn't even rain, either.

Afterwards, they "took the plunge" in the lake. Heh, heh.

Erik, of course, had to jump in after they did. All in all, it was a really great day. It made me forget about all the stressful last minute planning we did to get there. I was really happy we went.

A bonus was that we were able to spend Memorial Day touring Washington, D.C. This was kind of a second chance to see all things I missed when I was there last summer.

The Lincoln Memorial actually had a Lincoln impersonator walking around. However, when people asked him for a picture, his bodyguard (yes, really), said, "No pictures!" This is me being sly and taking a picture with him anyway. HA!

We visited Julia Child's kitchen inside the American History Smithsonian. I wanted to leave a big 'ol cube of butter like in Julie and Julia but it would have melted in my bag. I really don't know how you East Coast folks live in that humidity!

As I was going through our pictures today, I noticed that Erik and I are inadvertently starting to dress the same. It's not as bad as those old couples who wear matching track suits, but we are getting there.

Finally, what trip to the D.C. area would be complete without a cannon picture?! Erik came up with that pose all on his own. Very creative.

PAPARAZZI

2010-05-21T17:21:00.000-07:00

When Erik and I were first married, we used our whole tax return to buy our first digital camera, a Sony CyberShot with 1.3 megapixels! This was by far the nicest thing we owned. It was at least a year before I would allow Erik to take it on a sailboat with him. We treated that thing like gold. Then, 4 years ago, we bought a new camera, shoved the Cybershot in a filing cabinet and rarely looked at until yesterday when I officially gave it to Luke. If it looks like he shot these with a cell phone camera it's probably because your cell phone camera has more megapixels.

It was fun to go through his pictures today and see what Luke found worth photographing.

Luke's biggest problem with the camera is that he keeps putting his finger in front of the lens.

It was interesting to me which toys he chose to photograph. This is his beloved Transformers coloring book.

Here is an airplane he built out of legos.

These next two, I am going to take a picture of and mail them to Alcoholly since she likes to send Luke pictures of pictures.

I thought it was really funny that he had Charlie pose for a picture and that Charlie actually did it.

Last, but not least, Luke's perspective of me -

Book now for your Christmas card photos, Luke's calendar is filling up quick!

LOVE ONE ANOTHER

2010-05-18T21:19:00.000-07:00

I've recently been watching a lot of What Would You Do? online. It's kind of like a Candid Camera type show for people with social consciences. People are put in "likely" scenarios to see how they will react. One of the most memorable shows was when they dressed up a bunch of people like polygamists in a restaurant and pretended that a 15 year old girl was being forced to marry an old man. This was a good scenario, since everyone can totally relate. I see this all the time, don't you? (That was sarcasm.) The interesting thing about What Would You Do?, besides the outlandish scenarios (a hot blonde girl stealing bikes, as if!) is how emotional I get watching it... perhaps because I am pretty heartless when it comes to helping strangers and the show makes me feel like a jerk.

Today, a man and a kid stopped me in the supermarket parking lot to ask for gas money. I said I didn't have any cash on me. This wasn't completely true. I may not have had cash on me, but I did have money in my car. Nice justification, eh? Afterward, I felt really guilty about it (or scared that this was going to be on What Would You Do?) and drove around the parking lot looking for them to give them five bucks. I never did find them, but it did get me in a reflective mood. Why am I a jerk? Why do I never give money to strangers? How can I be a nice person without giving everything I have away? Is there a more appropriate way for these people to be begging for money?

Erik, on the other hand, has no qualms about helping people out. Although I told him not to do it, Erik picked up a man walking along the side of the freeway a couple of days ago. The man had Erik drop him off at what appeared to be a meth house in a very secluded area of town. After Erik dropped him off, he called me, and in his best Mr. T voice, demanded that I give him all my money or I would never see my husband again. I said, "I'm a jerk who doesn't give money to strangers. Guess I'll never see my husband again." Then we laughed because the guy didn't kill Erik.

STOP, WOO, STOP!

2010-05-17T19:13:00.000-07:00

Charlie "cussing" Luke out.

Charlie refers to Luke as, "Woo." The first thing he asks me when he wakes up is "Where is Woo?" When he sees Luke, he says, "What doing Woo?" When I ask Charlie what his name is, he says, "I'm Woo!" You think that's cute, you should hear Charlie yell at "Woo." It's adorable.

Charlie has started talking back when he fights with Luke and I love it. I know I should tell them to stop fighting, but it's so funny to hear Charlie be mean! It reminds me of when I would fight with my native companion on my mission. I knew it was bad, but I was so thrilled to be able to use the subjunctive in French while telling someone off that I kept on fighting. Loads of fun!

Yesterday, Charlie locked himself in the bathroom. Even though Luke had nothing to do with it, I could hear Charlie screaming from inside the bathroom, "Stop, Woo, Stop! Go away, Woo! Stop, Woo! Mine, Woo! No, Woo!" It gave me something to laugh about as I was unscrewing the doorknob off to let him out.

Good times.

HO HO'S AND TWINKIES ALL AROUND

2010-05-17T13:31:00.000-07:00

I read this article today indicating that ADHD has now been linked to pesticides. Of course this had to happen during the same week that I resigned myself to not eating organic produce.

Sommer loaned me The Diet Rebel's Cookbook recently. The book's authors ostentatiously write about making their own butter, only drinking raw milk, sprouting wheat, growing a garden, eating free-range chicken, avoiding microwaves, blah blah blah. They brag about only shopping at this one particular health food store in Utah. So "great." If I sound indifferent, it's because I've been through this before. I saw Food, Inc. and read Fast Food Nation. I know how I should be eating. I try to eat the best can, however, affording to eat that way is another story...

When I finished Sommer's book, I thought I would try to eat like the authors for just one week. I planned out my menu and went down to the health food store. As I was putting things into my cart and tabulating how much it was going to cost me, I just couldn't buy everything I wanted to. I was so mad. I almost started stopping customers in the store to ask what they do for a living. How do people afford to eat like this? I'm so jealous.

People will say you can't NOT afford to eat this way. Really? I beg to differ. So, let's say my eczema is inflamed by drinking pasteurized milk, and it very well could be, buying the medicine is still cheaper than spending $300 dollars a month on milk. Now "they" say my kids are going to get ADHD from pesticides on non-organic blueberries. People wonder why poor people are unhealthy! It is total conspiracy against the poor, I tell you.

So, I guess what I am saying is that The Diet Rebel's Cookbook is great if you can afford to eat like that or if you're willing to become a rice and beans family who drinks one cup of milk a week. For the rest of us, Ho ho's and Twinkies all around!

STILL HERE

2010-05-15T21:08:00.000-07:00

I just noticed that I haven't blogged in nearly a week. I'm still alive. Just busy. Erik went out of town... I managed a dinner and talent show for over 60 people... my kids watched way too much television. I'm so glad this week is over.

Something exciting to report is that we are instituting a new practice in our home. Erik and I will now be trading off on sleeping-in and taking care of the kids on weekend mornings. Friday morning was his day to sleep-in (boo), but today was mine (yay!) Luke woke up at 5:30 a.m., yet I slept in until 8:30 a.m!! Yes, I really am bragging about being able to sleep in until 8:30 a.m. on a Saturday morning. Thank you, children, for this new and improved perspective.

MOTHERING ADVICE FROM ALCOHOLLY

2010-05-09T10:05:00.000-07:00

An abridged version of my phone conversation with Alcoholly this morning -

Me: Hi! I just wanted to wish you a Happy Mother's Day!

Alco: Oh, thank you. This is such an awful day for me.

Me: I'm sorry.

Alco: But, I will get through this. I will. What is your family doing for you today?

Me: Well, Erik made breakfast, fed and dressed the kids, and right now I can hear him downstairs making homemade bread and getting dinner started. I got to lay in bed for as long as I wanted. It's been a really nice morning.

Alco: You know, Dearheart, you are teaching your family to treat you poorly.

Me: Really?

Alco: Your husband should be doing this every single day. Your actions are influencing generations! When you allow your family to treat you this badly, you are teaching your boys to treat their future wives this way. Your sons are learning from your poor example.

Me: Okay, Happy Mother's Day! [hang up]

I went downstairs and found Erik scrubbing a pan (apparently with his eyes closed) harder than I ever have in my whole life. This is after a 50 hour work week... after fixing our computers... fixing our cars... after still finding time to go out with me last night... do I even deserve everything he does to take care of us? (Now I hear him downstairs vacuuming.)

Alcoholly isn't the only one to give me such crazy advice lately. I had another woman, similar to Alcoholly, say almost the same things to me recently. I know it's well meaning, but I prefer advice from people who's lives I want to emulate. In the future, if I want some heartwarming Mother's Day advice, I'll call my mother or mother-in-law, or read the best talk ever on the subject of mothering. What was I thinking?

I hope you all have a wonderful Mother's Day. This really is my favorite holiday.

BLACK AWARENESS MONTH

2010-05-07T20:57:00.000-07:00

Apparently May is Black Awareness Month in our family.

Today I took the boys to a water spray park for the first time. It was incredibly fun and I forgot my camera in the car so there will be no pictures to accompany this post. Fortunately for us, Luke provided me with a good story.

Imagine me and my two little boys under one tree. Under the tree next to us is a large group of men, women, and children. They all know each other. All the men are wearing wife beaters. Nothing is wrong with wearing a wife beater, I just wanted you to be able to visualize this a little better.

Luke walks in between our two groups, points his finger and loudly says, "Mommy, SHE'S BLACK!! She's black! Her daddy is really black!" I sat there mortified. When I didn't respond, he repeated himself even louder. My response, "That's right and you're white." I'm not sure if that was the best way to address it, but I had to think fast and that was the first thing to come out of my mouth.

We need to get out more.

ENDURANCE

2010-05-06T20:40:00.000-07:00

I was reminded tonight while standing in a super long line to buy chicken during Albertsons 8 hour sale, that I live in a really small town. The kind of town where Albertsons' 8 hour sale is a main event. I almost always see someone I know when in public. Our "entertainment" newspaper runs a regular column about new residents. My kind neighbor takes my trash out every Thursday morning without being asked. The owner of the local bakery asks how my kids are doing when they are not with me. Our little movie theater even shows cartoons occasionally on Saturday morning and sells cereal to go along with it. Doesn't it all sound very quaint?

We should love this place. We should buy a house here... but for some reason, in the 3+ years we have lived here, we just can't take that leap yet. I wonder if it has something to do with feeling so removed from the rest of California. I don't know if I'm ready to accept driving 45 minutes to Costco with a cooler in my car as normal. Call me crazy, but I like big cities and all that they offer. I don't know if I could live here if it weren't for our wonderful friends and the remarkable fact that my husband actually likes his job. I'm tired of people trying to make me think it is normal and good to be so removed.

I actually felt somewhat validated today when I discovered that a Survivor type show for kids taped a season here in 2005. The premise being that the kids are forced to live in a remote location and participate in various mental and physical challenges. It was called Endurance. When I eventually write a book, I am going to steal the name of this television show to use it as the title of this chapter in my life. (My favorite part about the show's introduction is how the kids are forced to live at *gasp!* 4,000 feet above sea level!! Eee gad! The horror!)

SHOPPING SPREE

2010-05-05T11:03:00.000-07:00

It had been a week since the chore chart began and Luke had accumulated $3.60 that was burning a whole in his pocket. He was literally begging me 20 times a day to take him to the store so that he could spend his money. No amount of talk about saving for something big could deter him. Fine. I didn't agree but I obliged. It's his money.

Are you ready for this? Luke purchased -

A Cheap Water Gun (Just discovered it doesn't work.)
Transformers Coloring Book
Hot Rod Car (Already Broke)
A Handful of Sour Candy out of a Vending Machine

It was cute watching him go up to the cash register and just throw a fistful of coins and bills onto the counter. He wanted to spend every last dime and he almost did. I also must confess to being a bad Mom. I didn't use this first week as an opportunity to teach him about tithing or saving. I'll repent and we'll do better next week. However, after seeing his purchases, what I really want to teach him is that he is wasting his money on crappy toys that will be forgotten by the end of the week. I hate cheap, crappy, little toys almost as much as I hate iceberg lettuce and Hootie and the Blowfish. Ugh.

Just so we wouldn't have a major fit on our hands when we were at the store, I bought Charlie a new coloring book. He was in heaven. I wish he would stay this easy to please forever.

YOU HAVE DIED OF DYSENTERY

2010-05-03T22:19:00.000-07:00

So... I'm back. Pioneer Trek accomplished. Okay, well, not really.

This weekend I had to come to terms with my unfulfilled childhood pioneer fantasies. Secretly, I was hoping for a complete pioneer re-enactment. I thought there would be horses, Indians, people dying of consumption, covered wagons, amputations, and lots of black powder guns. I was expecting something similar to my favorite video game of all time, The Oregon Trail!

I was hoping to play some dramatic part in a vignette on the side of the trail or at least be able to tell someone that they were dying of dysentery. Yet, alas, it just was not meant to be. This is not to say that the trek organizers didn't do a fabulous job. It was great. I guess not everyone is into dorky re-enactments as I am. It really is a shame.

We arrived on Friday evening to the location where the trek would take place. It was incredibly cold to the point that most of us were miserable. This is when I decided that, even without going on the actual trek, the pioneers were nuts. Only a person motivated by religion or money would be crazy enough to push a handcart across the country. Friday night was one of the worst of my entire life, even superseding that awful night when I slept on a bench in a bus station in Denmark. My sleeping bag wouldn't zip up, my air mattress had a leak, and the tent had a huge flap in it. I wasn't prepared for the cold. I was convinced that all my extremities had frostbite. (It's not complaining if I'm stating fact.)

When I woke up that morning, our tent was covered in frost. Then again, at least we had a tent. The boys in our ward forgot to pack one and they had to sleep under the stars in weather in the high 20's. So glad I'm not a boy... or pioneer.

Since I wasn't a Ma (my "Pa" had to stay home with the young'uns), I was encouraged to stay at the camp while the kids went on their 4 hour trek. I was too tired to be sad. I welcomed the opportunity to take a lovely nap in my tent and work on finishing Catching Fire.

The moral of this story is as follows -

Pioneers are crazy.
I don't think I can ever go camping again.
I will do just about anything to have a vacation away from my kids.

MORMONS DO THE WEIRDEST THINGS

2010-04-30T15:37:00.000-07:00

I'm taking a little va-cay from the kids and husband this weekend. The only catch is that I ~~have to~~ get to dress up like Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman and trek 7 miles with a bunch of teenagers.

Here's a sneak peek -

More to come on Monday.

HE WORKS HARD FOR THE MONEY

2010-04-28T22:13:00.000-07:00

This kid is taking all my money.

I never thought my 3 year old would be begging me to let him pick up his toys before he goes to bed. Yet, it happened tonight because I am a sucker. I agreed to pay Luke 10 cents for each "job" I give him. I created a chore chart with very basic things like -

Pick up your toys
Make the bed
Set the table
Put away your clothes

He is obsessed with making money. For example, this afternoon, I ran downstairs because Luke was screaming. I thought he was hurt, but instead he was screaming out of frustration from not being able to get past the baby lock on the dishes cabinet. He really wanted to set the table even though it wasn't mealtime. A child wanting to help out around the house sounds like a dream, right?

Here's the problem: I told him I would pay him only once a day for each job. Then I did the math. He has the opportunity to make 70 cents a day or $4.90 a week! That kind of allowance seems a little high for a 3 year old who almost passed out from excitement when I gave him his first dime.

What is the allowance that normal middle class people pay their children these days anyway? I feel bad giving him $1.00 a week because he'll never be able to buy any of the toys off the laminated Geotrax advertisement he sleeps with. Then again, maybe I'm being way too nice and he should have to use his allowance to buy food.

FEELS LIKE HOME TO ME

2010-04-26T14:15:00.000-07:00

When we cut the cable and gave up on using an antenna, I unfortunately cut Sesame Street out of our lives as well. I never realized how hard it would be to find full length episodes to rent or watch online. Sadly, I've resorted to setting up a queue of Sesame Street clips on Hulu for the kids to watch. It's pretty pathetic. Last week I rented Sesame Street:40 Years of Sunny Days from Netflix in the hopes that it would contain some full length episodes for the kids. The kids could care less about the DVD, but I was enthralled.

As I began to watch clips from the first few seasons, I was struck by how familiar it was. I mean, I felt like I was coming home or meeting my "real" parents. It was pretty eerie. I wanted Erik to watch it to see if he felt the same thing, but he said that would only happen if he watched old Dukes of Hazzard episodes. So, maybe it's just me that has this weird connection to early Sesame Street?

At first, I thought the only logical explanation for the way I was feeling was that I am older than I think I am. Why else would watching this stuff from the early 1970's feel like home to me? I immediately called my mom and demanded to know if my birth certificate was forged. She said sarcastically, "Yup, you're 38." Yet maybe she wasn't being sarcastic. Maybe I really am 38. (I say 38 because I could see myself actually being 38. 39? No way. Too old.) I tried to probe the details of my birth further, but she kept changing the subject and laughing. Interesting, huh?

So, let's "pretend" that my parents didn't forge my birth certificate. My next question was, "How much t.v. did I watch as a little kid?"Undoubtedly, it was a lot because as I watched these old clips, I felt like I knew these people, personally. Obviously, there are much worse things than watching hours of Sesame Street as a little kid. I'm not accusing you of anything, Mom.

The "Television" Monster

I learned a lot from watching the DVD's also. Did you know that Telly Monster was originally the "Television Monster"? His eyes would bug out every time he watched television but they thought it was too scary for kids, so they changed him a bit. Also, Oscar the Grouch was originally orange!

An Orange Oscar the Grouch

Some aspects of new Sesame Street make me mad now. It just doesn't seem fair that Big Bird, Bert, Ernie, and Prairie Dawn aren't featured so much anymore. Why does Elmo get all the glory? Why was Roosevelt Franklin so controversial? Oh, and poor Mr. Hooper. Why did he have to die?! I actually think I may end up buying this DVD set. When I am sad, I will just turn it on and hang out with my old "friends" on the television.

Let's end on a positive note. What aspects of the new Sesame Street do I like? The musical guests. Just when I thought I couldn't stomach this song one more time, they make it likable again.

BOOK REVIEW: THE HUNGER GAMES

2010-04-23T11:25:00.000-07:00

I've started reading again... not like I ever stopped reading. It's just that now I'm making a new attempt to read more than Facebook status updates, blogs, and teen mom biographies on the 16 and Pregnant website. I joined a book club at the beginning of this year and it's been good for me. I normally only read non-fiction books, so it's caused me to branch out with things I might normally disregard.

This month was my chance to choose the book and I picked The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins. I read this 350+ page book in 4 days. Now I can never use the excuse that I don't have time, because obviously I make time for silly things I find important. (As if you already didn't know that by the mere fact that I am still updating this blog.)

I loved The Hunger Games. It's post-apocalyptic (my absolute favorite genre), a love story, and people die. It was awesome. The story about these poor kids being forced to enter into a fight to the death isn't the most creative idea, but I forgive the author since her target audience is teenagers born long after The Running Man. Since the book is written for teenagers, it is extremely easy to read and get sucked into. The world of the future in this book is really creepy, yet familiar. I kept waiting for someone to scream something like, "Soylent Green is people!" or "I love the smell of napalm in the morning!"

I'm sad I finished the book.*

*I ordered Catching Fire this morning.

KEEP YOUR PANTS ON

2010-04-22T13:48:00.000-07:00

Charlie turns 2 tomorrow. I love this age because he talks and says funny things which make no sense. However, on the other hand I find myself saying to him way too much, "Hey, Crazy, put your clothes back on." This morning he threw two practically identical temper tantrums. Both times, I walked away once he began throwing things, and minutes later he had taken off all his clothes. In our house, toddlers who refuse to wear clothes wear onesies.

So, what's my strategy for dressing an uncooperative toddler? Today, I unsuccessfully attempted to hold him down with my legs. Since that didn't work, I got desperate and asked Luke for help. Luke walked over with one of Charlie's toys, which I thought he was going to give to him. No. Instead Luke hit him over the head repeatedly with it, saying, "Listen to Mommy, Charlie! You need to wear a diaper!" Did I mention that this toy was a hard plastic spinning top? Luke's strategy worked.

In completely unrelated news, it has snowed for the past few days. Luke asked me if we could set up the Christmas Tree and we read Twas the Night Before Christmas last night at bedtime. It still is April, right?

MY LITTLE PAUPERS

2010-04-21T12:05:00.000-07:00

This is a picture of Luke giving me a fake smile in his favorite outfit. My poor indigent children. I actually try really hard to not dress them like slobs. I insist that Luke wear a collared shirt to preschool and I try to make their Sunday clothes look semi-decent. However, since Luke started dressing himself this past year, I feel like I have no control over what he looks like. Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful he is so independent and I'm thankful for the hand-me-downs from our friends, I just wish Luke had better taste in clothes. (He must take after his Mommy.)

Luke is extremely rough on his clothes. Last month he only had one pair of jeans (out of 8 pairs) without a hole in the right knee. I had become accustomed to buying him a new pair of jeans every month and I was sick of it. I don't really sew, so that wasn't an option. Fortunately I found Dritz Iron-on Patches at Joann's for domestically-challenged people like me!

I bought two packages for less than $4. It was incredibly easy to do. Just cut out a patch and iron it on.

My big failure was that I neglected to match the patch to the jeans appropriately and I was too impatient to go back to Joann's for the right colors. Oh well. Luke is only 3. I would rather he look like a pauper with mismatched patches on his jeans than a pauper with holes in his jeans.

I even did my own pants. This is after I washed it. It stayed on! I may no longer have pride, but at least I'm saving money!

THE CULT

2010-04-19T13:23:00.000-07:00

Last Friday I joined a cult. No, really, I'm beginning to think it is a cult.

It's called FlyLady and she claims to be my personal coach to help me gain control of my home. To assist with my journey, she insists that I buy overpriced purple cleaning tools. She sends me 15 emails a day containing testimonials about how her program will change my life and little de-cluttering missions to accomplish.

I must admit that (so far) this cult has made me feel really good about myself. Presently, I am only on Day 4 of the Baby Steps. All she wants me to do is shine my kitchen sink, put on my shoes and read her website. What kind of people is she dealing with here if these are "huge tasks"? FlyLady says not to skip ahead, so I'm trying to be patient. It just seems kind of silly that putting on my shoes would be a task. I won't question her system though. I don't want to be a bad cult member.

We'll see if this eliminates "the chaos" that has taken over my life. I say "chaos," but I don't think my house is that messy. I mean, someone can definitely walk through the living room without tripping over tiny troll figurines or stepping in dirty diapers. Then again, my standard of cleanliness has definitely changed since Luke and Charlie joined our family.

SKINNY COW

2010-04-14T12:27:00.000-07:00

Something life changing happened last month. I discovered The Pioneer Woman's cooking section on her site and made several of the most amazing sauces using heavy cream and cooking wine (yes, wine, I'm not drinking it, don't you judge me). Consequently, I also gained 7 pounds and my tactful sister, Kaci, told me that I look pregnant. I don't think it helped either that I was eating ice cream almost every afternoon. (Hey, it was on sale!)

Fortunately, I've never really had to struggle with my weight and as a result I have grown up loving whole milk and chugging heavy cream straight out of the container. (I salivate just thinking about it.) I even remember my Dad (who today probably doesn't weigh more than 150 lbs) buying my sisters and I our own individual half-gallons of ice cream to eat whenever we wanted. I often wonder how my "cream and butter" years have affected my body. Skinny doesn't always mean healthy.

Yuck.

So, this has led me to make some drastic changes in my life, namely, going "low-fat." This was my first low-fat week and... it was disgusting. I made strawberries and cream with 2% milk. I ate the yogurt that doesn't have the cream at the top. I even bought "light" sour cream and it's texture seems strange. I can't even think about transitioning to skim milk at this point.

How do people live like this?

CHEESE BALL

2010-04-12T13:03:00.000-07:00

I had a really good weekend. I got to go to the movies and laughed hysterically while watching Date Night. I visited Alcoholly. (Sorry, no photos. She said I'm never allowed to take any more pictures of her, ever again. She was serious.) I have to say though that the greatest part of my weekend was making Raclette on my new Toastess Party Grill and Raclette!

I know, it doesn't look like much, but this grill is the kind of the thing that dreams are made of. It had been almost 10 years since I had eaten Raclette during my mission to Geneva, Switzerland. The more time passed, the greater this meal became in my head. Fortunately, it delivered.

Raclette is a very simple dish. Just potatoes and cheese. Unfortunately, in my little podunk town, the cheese I wanted, Gruyère, was $16.00 a pound. So, I resorted to buying only 4 ounces of Gruyère and 8 ounces of Gouda. The Gouda was fine, but when I ate the Gruyère, I had a moment like in Ratatouille when the "Grim Eater" eats the ratatouille and it takes him back to his childhood. I swear, I almost started crying.

Unfortunately, the Raclette wasn't all fun. We ate what should have been a 90 minute meal in 10 minutes. It left us both feeling a little sick. Bad idea. In addition, Erik ignored my instructions to not drink anything cold with the Raclette. He chugged a huge glass of ice water which caused a cheese ball to form and harden in his stomach.

Erik might not agree, but I think the Raclette was worth it.

OH, SO THAT'S HOW THEY MAKE THEIR MONEY

2010-04-08T16:33:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago, I found this library book in Luke's room -

No, we don't have a dog. Charlie did this. Unfortunately, he has a history of destroying books. This, however, was probably the worst damage he's ever done to a book. No amount of scotch tape could fix this book, so I took it back to the library, assuming I would just pay the price indicated on the back cover - $14.95.

Uh, no. In my dreams would it be $14.95.

It was $24.00 to replace this book.

Get this. They actually have a fee schedule unrelated to the actual price of the book. The most expensive book to replace is an adult non-fiction at $41.00!

So, let's pretend that you check out 8 children's books during a library visit. If your child was to destroy all of those books (which is very likely in my house right now), you would owe at least $192.00. I can't believe how careless I have treated library books in the past. If I only knew how expensive they were to replace, I would not even let Charlie look at them, let alone put them in his crib like Erik did last night. Eeek! It's like letting the kid play with blocks of gold.

Way to go, Mr. Destructo.

FOREVER 31

2010-04-06T16:37:00.000-07:00

Last week, one of my sisters told me that if she had a billion dollars, the first thing she would do would be to give me $10,000 for a new wardrobe because I "dress so badly." (How sweet. Her own personal What Not to Wear just for me.) I would like to think that I dress bad because I hate shopping. With a personal shopper (and unlimited funds), I could look really good.

So, yesterday, I tried to shop. I now remember why I have a hard time buying clothes.

FOREVER 21!!

[Yes, I know I am dressed bad. I rolled out of bed and threw on whatever I could find for this impromptu shopping trip, don't you judge me or my glasses. It was last minute!!]

Seriously, have you ever seen so many ugly clothes in one store in your entire life? Obviously, I am in the minority since their company is expanding faster than the hey-day of Krispie Kreme Doughnuts. I just don't get how they are staying in business. Accessories alone can't carry the store, or can they?

Speaking of accessories, I desperately tried to talk my sister into buying the peacock headband she is wearing in this picture. She refused. Can you imagine someone wearing that to church? It would be awesome.

Who buys shoes like this?? I must be getting old. I need a store called Forever 31 with personal shoppers, free babysitting (like Ikea), and affordable clothes that actually fit normal people. I should get paid for these ideas.

ON THE WINGS OF LOVE

2010-04-03T17:03:00.001-07:00

Here is a not-so-flattering self-portrait I took of myself today while flying with Erik for the first time. I was trying not to throw up.

Not much to report, except that I didn't die.

CHEER UP, CHARLIE

2010-03-31T13:44:00.000-07:00

I have spent a lot of time lately trying to figure out what to do for our family's summer vacation. Vacationing with small children is a lot like childbirth. You forget quickly how bad it really can be. Although we've had some hard times trying to travel with the little ones... hard times that I can even read about on this blog... I forget how bad it really is. I think that is why I have been so keen on the idea of doing something great this summer, like maybe Hawaii? Or flying out to Boston or New York for a week?

Well... I took the kids to the zoo yesterday. Granted, it is the Phoenix Zoo, so it was 90 degrees, but still, a great place geared towards kids. Not. So. Fun. Kids need naps, down time, and air conditioning. Charlie hit his breaking point about an hour into it, but I needed to get my money's worth so we stayed for another two hours. (That's the kind of Mom I am.)

So, now I'm thinking the best vacation with our kids will be a simple one. Or maybe we shouldn't go on vacation. Maybe it would be better to spend the vacation money on a thing. I've always wanted a big plasma television for the kids to scratch up. Or we could save the money. (Saving... that's crazy!!) All I know is that I don't like being trapped with two angry kids in 90 degree weather all in the name of trying to do something fun. That's not so fun.

MOVIE REVIEW: NEW MOON

2010-03-26T12:00:00.000-07:00

"Everyone" told me this one was better than the first one. REALLY?!

I watched New Moon for the first time last night. Guess what? Edward still looks constipated. Bella is still attracted to things that aren't human. I just about fell asleep until these guys showed up in the movie -

HELLO, Wolf Pack! This isn't your typical Southern trailer trash clan in cut-offs and no shirts, they wear nice tennis shoes when they run through the forest. Not to mention that their shorts look like they are about to fall off because they sit so low on their hips... in 30 degree weather I might add.

Let's see, then Liz Lemon's "Future Husband" was some big and powerful vampire, blah blah blah, Jacob cuts his hair, Dakota Fanning, blah blah blah, cheesy music, I want to punch Bella in the face because she is annoying, blah blah blah, then I fell asleep.

Is this worth watching at a midnight showing? Really, Ladies, REALLY?!

GRADE: C+

A+

2010-03-25T20:01:00.000-07:00

Good news! I took Luke to the dentist for the first time ever and I passed! I'm not a bad parent who is destroying my child's teeth! Yipee!!

Am I the only one who feels like my child's first dental exam is a reflection of my parenting skills? I figured this would be a good indication of whether or not I let him eat too much sugar, or use his pacifier or sippy cups for too long. Somehow, despite doing all those things, he got an A+. The dentist even said he had "nice spacing." Oh and get this, Luke gagged just like I do at the dentist! I was so proud.

The video games put Luke into a hypnotic state. Charlie was ready to attack.

Seriously though, why can't the dentist for big people offer video games and a treasure box? Not fair. I loved how the dental hygienist threw a Nintendo DS into his hands the instant she walked away. The only real problem was Charlie. He was literally trying to climb onto Luke's lap during the entire experience. Next time, I will be sure to bring a doll to entertain Charlie while Luke is getting his teeth cleaned.

MY BUDDY, MY BUDDY

2010-03-22T14:27:00.000-07:00

Each year, Erik's company throws a Christmas party especially for the children. The parents "register" their children in advance. This way Santa knows how many presents to buy. The girls usually receive a doll, while the boys receive some sort of truck or action figure. (For example, this year Luke got a set of fake tools.) Our friend was disgusted by their "sexist" toy selections, so he demanded that his daughter get a boy's toy. Okay, fine, I can understand that. However, he did not demand that his son receive a girl's toy. I found that to be very interesting... and a double standard.

Why is it acceptable for girls to play with trucks, cars, fake tools, i.e., pretty much anything, but when a boy picks up a doll, everyone laughs? I have never bought dolls for my boys, but last week I caught Charlie in his room, doing this -

He was "changing the diaper" of this tiny little Fisher Price person. (I apologize for the blurriness, but I had to take it fast.) Poor Charlie. We won't buy him a doll, so he has resorted to taking care of this 3 inch nub with a face on it.

I felt bad for Charlie. Then, I had an epiphany. Charlie needs a My Buddy doll!

That was the only doll I could think of that was specifically marketed to boys. So, I did a few internet searches and it turns out they don't make My Buddy dolls anymore because as everyone knows, most boys don't play with dolls, duh. So, now they are a collectible. Sorry, Charlie, I won't be paying for you to drag a $50 doll through the mud. I am totally out of the toy loop, are there any dolls for boys these days? Preferably ones I can buy at the Dollar Store? I don't mean action figures or transformers, but actual dolls. I can't think of any. Or should I pretend this never happened and not indulge my little boy's strange inclination to nurture?

GIVEAWAY

2010-03-16T16:23:00.000-07:00

Just admit it, you entertain your child with iPod apps! So, do I!

Well, our friend Troy created an app better than the Bubbles one that my kids are obsessed with called "BalloonMaker." Really, the idea seems so simple, I don't know why this wasn't invented sooner. Troy thinks inventing iPod apps is nerdy, but I think it is genius.

Troy has graciously offered to give us some codes to download BalloonMaker for free. These codes will only work once, so act fast!

K9XX6NLWAAHW
FYPLJKRP6YRE
M3R3L4977NEA
W6AKLPX7J97F

Thanks, Troy!

WATCH OUT BELOW

2010-03-15T17:17:00.000-07:00

Well, Luke is officially "potty trained" or at least that's what he has told me multiple times today.

Last night was the first time he successfully slept through the night without a pull-up. Even though he's been potty trained during the day for over 9 months now, I've been reluctant for a long time to take the leap of faith and let him sleep in his underwear. He was very proud of himself this morning. He told me, "I am potty trained, Mommy. I am growing up so big." The key now is for him to do it more than once.

So, with that being said, it was pretty ironic... and embarrassing... what happened this afternoon at the park.

Our park is split up into two sections - one for toddlers and one for older kids. I was watching Charlie on the toddler equipment while Luke was playing on the stuff for older kids. Although I couldn't exactly hear him, I had a pretty good view of what he was doing. I became consumed with helping Charlie down the slide for a few minutes and when I looked up there was quite a commotion over at Luke's side of the park. Parents were angry and the other kids were saying things like, "Gross!" and "Stop!!" Luke was standing alone at the top of the highest slide. I saw him come down the slide and noticed that he looked like he had to go to the bathroom.

I went over to him and asked him if he had to go. Two mothers interjected and said, "He already did." Turns out he went to the highest point on the play equipment, pulled down his pants and peed into a crowd of kids playing below. Then, according to these women, when they told him not to do that he announced, "I'm tree [3]! I'm potty trained!"

Oh dear.

Yes, Luke, it's true that you are "tree." Potty trained? I don't know anymore.

IF YOU'RE THINKIN' ABOUT MY BABY, IT DON'T MATTER IF YOU'RE BLACK OR WHITE

2010-03-12T08:15:00.000-08:00

My sister is pregnant with her first baby. Yesterday was her 9 week appointment. Here is her actual conversation with the doctor as she was preparing to do the ultrasound -

Sister: Will the baby be black or white?

Doctor: Hmmm, that is an interesting question. I guess it is like that Michael Jackson song.

Sister (too quiet for the doctor to hear): I meant on the screen.

In the doctor's defense, some people do say that the back of my brother-in-law's head looks the same as President Obama's. You be the judge.

This is the back of my brother-in-law's head -

This is the back of President Obama's head... or is it my brother-in-law?

I think I will watch This Is It tonight in honor of the pregnancy.

MOVIE REVIEW: THE TIME TRAVELER'S WIFE

2010-03-10T08:09:00.000-08:00

How can I complain about my husband not being home for dinner in that last post? At least he's not a time traveler. (Hardy har har.)

First, I need to admit that I did not read this book. I have no idea how this book differs from the movie. I imagine that it is probably a really good book. The premise is intriguing - a science fiction, time traveling, love story. However, the movie left me depressed and asking too many questions.

[Spoiler Alert.]

Why does Rachel McAdams never really age? Why did Eric Bana get gray hair so early? Why does she stay with him? How many times do they play the lottery? Was it really necessary to see Eric Bana's bare backside so many times? Is Ron Livingston gaining weight or is it just my imagination? Wouldn't it have been more interesting if he had accidentally shot himself at the end? Or perhaps killed in a big shoot out with the police?

Most of all, it left me wondering how and when I am going to die. Will it be peaceful? Will it be in an airplane? Will I be old? Will my death be anti-climatic like the end of this movie? I hope not.

GRADE: C+

MAKE IT STOP

2010-03-08T20:30:00.000-08:00

Erik has been working a lot lately, which means that I eat dinner alone with the kids. This has led me to believe that there will be a point in hell where a person will be forced to eat several consecutive dinner meals as the only adult with two small children. That thought alone is enough to keep me on the straight and narrow.

I never know what to make for dinner when it is just me and the kids. When it is just me by myself, I try to choose the meal that will provide me with the most peaceful mealtime experience. Things they will eat happily are just about limited to pizza, peanut butter and jelly, waffles, plate loads of bacon, blueberries and ice cream. It's no fun trying to coax both of the kids to eat, break up the inevitable fights, and try to eat my dinner, when I am flying solo.

Tonight was crazy because I chose the wrong meal. I tried to get the kids to eat baked potatoes loaded with toppings. Bad idea. Charlie screamed for 20 minutes straight because he wanted juice and bacon. Luke wouldn't stop waving his fork violently in front of my face. All I could think was, "This must be why people get fat." Erik's failure to make it home for dinner is slowly driving me into the arms of another man. A man named Ronald McDonald. Although I hate McDonalds, how easy would it be to just go sit in the McPlayland, eat my McNuggets, drink my McCafe drink and let the kids thrash around in a McPit of balls for an hour?

I hope this doesn't last forever.

LIVE AND LET DIE

2010-03-04T15:35:00.000-08:00

People keep asking me if Erik got his pilot's license yet, so I figured I better acknowledge it on here.

He completed it in January and now I am confronting the inevitable:

He expects me to fly with him.

Decisions, decisions... I feel like I am deciding what age I want to die.

Recently I was discussing Erik's new hobby with my Dad. He asked me, "What, Cristin, do you want to live forever?" My answer was, "No, but hitting 50 would be nice." (That question is funny considering that my Dad, when given the opportunity, didn't want to go flying with Erik either.)

It's not that I don't love my husband or that I don't love thought of flying all over the place. I just don't love the thought of being in a small private plane. I have only been in one twice in my life. Of course, both times I thought I was going to die.

The first time was in 2004. A friend of Erik's took us from Provo to Heber in Utah. I may be smiling in this picture, but inside I was screaming for dear life. It was terrifying riding around in that little car in the sky.

The other time was last September when we went to Milford Sound. As the pilot pointed out glaciers and majestic waterfalls, all I could think about was, "Why did I pay money to die???" I swore we were going to crash into a mountain.
Lady J can be purchased here.

As if the thought of flying with Erik isn't scary enough, he also wants to purchase the Lady J Female Urinary Director Adapter for me. I can't even begin to imagine how that thing works. Too frightening.

What's weird is that all these people we know want to fly with Erik and I don't. Please don't think I'm an awful wife. Just think about it like this: It's like driving with a new driver, except that I don't know how to drive the "car." If the "car" breaks down, we probably die... in a big bloody ball of fire, plummeting to our deaths, at 500 miles per hour. Ouch.

With all of that being said --

Congratulations, Honey. I'm proud of you. Honestly, I really am.

ONE OF THESE THINGS IS NOT LIKE THE OTHER

2010-03-03T12:59:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I was sitting at the beauty salon and looking at myself in the mirror for almost two hours. (The beauty salon is about the only place where it is permissible to look at yourself for that long.) Something just didn't seem right. I figured it out right about when the appointment ended. It was my shoes.

I am a walking contradiction. Why do I spend $100 on my hair and wear tailored jeans that I buy from Saks (okay, the Saks outlet), yet I haven't changed my tennis shoes for over six years? I mean, I wear my tennis shoes almost every single day. This is ridiculous.

PUMA Californias. The most comfortable shoes every made.

I still remember the day I bought these shoes. It was at Nordstroms in Provo. I couldn't believe that I spent $60 on shoes. Hey, it looks like I got my money's worth!

The problem is two-fold. I really like my shoes, yet they are impossible to find. I'm like an addict to my old tennis shoes. The only way I am going to be able to quit them is by throwing them away and forcing myself to buy a new pair of shoes.

So, it's 2010, and I haven't bought a new pair since 2004. What do stay at home moms wear while they are out running errands nowadays? Someone please enlighten me. I am clueless when it comes to shoe shopping and I want to order some new ones this week.

YOU'RE UNBELIEVABLE

2010-03-01T07:32:00.000-08:00

Stake Conference was yesterday and I was dreading it all week.

For a moment, I am going to pretend that none of you are Mormon. This is what Stake Conference means to me:

I wake up at 6:30 a.m. to pack bags of food and extra clothes for the kids, dress myself and the kids up in Sunday clothes, eat breakfast, then travel 45 minutes to sit with over 1,000 people to hear church leaders speak. Normally, we don't get there early enough, so we have a really bad seat and end up watching it projected onto a screen. Then, we are supposed to sit there with our very small children for two whole hours.

Except what normally happens is that the kids don't want to sit there for two hours. (What little kids would?!) The part I was really dreading was that after all of this effort, I would be walking around in the halls and outside for two hours with the kids. This is what happens in the past. What is the point of going through all of this if I can't even hear the speakers?*

However, I went because that is what you're supposed to do. I am so glad I did, because the most unbelievable thing happened -

The kids stayed in the chapel during the entire two hours of Stake Conference.

I know you don't believe me, so I will write it again.

The kids stayed in the chapel during the entire two hours of Stake Conference.

They weren't exactly the most reverent children, but they did stay in there and they didn't scream. I actually heard the talks. At the end of the two hours, Erik and I high fived each other because, as everyone knows, it's not the parents fault when kids behave badly, but parents can take all the credit when their children behave exceptionally well.

Thanks, Luke and Charlie. I owe you one.

*There is a "cry room" where you can watch Stake Conference, but we got kicked out of there once for being too loud. No joke.

THE RESISTANCE

2010-02-26T08:00:00.000-08:00

I volunteered at Luke's preschool for the first time since he started in October. (I know, shame on me. I just never know what to do with Charlie.) It was very eye opening.

First of all, I have a whole new respect for Luke's teacher, a 77 year old German woman who is still going strong. When I was there, she was doing jumping jacks with the kids. It was very impressive. She's probably in better shape than I am.

Next, Luke sure gets a lot of special treatment. Half of the kids in his class are five years old and all the kids (except for one) are going into kindergarten next year. The teacher prepares almost a completely different set of work for Luke to do because he is so much younger than his classmates. It was very touching to me that someone would go to so much trouble for my son.

Luke's teacher, however, did have one little complaint about Luke. She said, "He's so stubborn! You have to make him think everything is his idea!" She went on, "I know he can't help his stubbornness, it's in his genes! I call him the 'Danish Resistance.' "

I laughed at Luke's nickname. She has no idea how accurate she is.

The Real Danish Resistance (1945)

Luke's great-grandfather is in the center, fifth row back with a hat, white collar and tie, and dark vest.

VICTORY

2010-02-22T21:06:00.000-08:00

Luke wrote his name this morning all by himself! It may look like chicken scratch, but at least it's his chicken scratch. Good to know that I am not a complete failure as a mother.

FAMILY MATTERS

2010-02-20T22:20:00.000-08:00

One of the first serious fights that Erik and I ever got into as a married couple was about the size of our future family. He wanted at least six kids and I wanted no more than four. During the argument, I specifically remember him saying repeatedly that six kids seemed decent, but four was way too small of a family.

Can you blame him? Erik came from a family with nine kids. Take a look at this photo of Erik's family right after his brother, Steffen, was born in 1986. (No, that is not a preschool or a primary.) At the time, my mother-in-law was two years younger than I am now.

Holy Cow (1986)

When I asked Erik if he remembers it being crazy with that many kids (and they would later add 2 more to the bunch), he said, "No, not at all!" I'm not sure if his parents had amazing patience or just amazing survival skills. All I know is that I bow down to my mother-in-law in awe.

Our Little Family (1982)

I come from a "small" family of four. Ironically enough, I remember my house being really crazy. There was lots of yelling and fighting among us girls. It was never as peaceful as one would expect with such a "small" family. Looking back, I can't believe my parents even had four kids. That seems huge to me now.

I don't know anyone who has nine kids anymore. I wonder why that is. Eight years have passed since our argument about family size and our perspective has completely changed. Erik gave up the hope (and desire) to have six kids many years ago. Besides, we started too old for that. In the past, I doubted whether or not we would even have one child, so I feel extremely blessed just to have two. If that's all we have, we're fine. Besides, these little boys are tiring us out. Yes. We are wusses.

In the Mormon world, it seems like women feel obligated to explain their family size to other women. Is it really that awful to only have two or three kids? I would hate to think that we're all judging each other's family size, but maybe that's naive of me to think that we're not.

WE ARE THE WORLD

2010-02-18T11:22:00.000-08:00

Does anyone else find the new We are the World completely hilarious? It feels very overproduced and a little too "Kidney Now" if you know what I mean. They even have Michael Jackson in it and those guys doing the robot voices at the end!

Here is the original. It's 100% better in my opinion. I do find Kenny Rogers' voice strangely comforting, maybe that has something to do with it.

While I'm at it, my other favorite celebrity benefit songs include Hands Across America (hey look it's Erik Estrada, Yoko Ono and Barbra Streisand!) -

Of course, I can't forget "What's Going On" by the MTV Allstars to raise money for the victims of 9/11 -

However, my all-time favorite benefit song is "Don't They Know It's Christmas" because Boy George is fantastic! Seriously!

FIGHT!

2010-02-16T10:30:00.000-08:00

Meet my newest mantra:

I am bigger and stronger than you.
I am bigger and stronger than you.
I am bigger and stronger than you.

Why do my kids try to fight me? Don't they know that I hold all the power? I do hold all the power? Right? Sometimes it doesn't feel that way.

Luke spanked me as hard as he could the other day and screamed, "I'm angry with you!" It was more humorous then painful. Then there was the other day when Luke was throwing his Geotrax off the stairs, aiming at my head. That, admittedly, was pretty painful... and traumatic. Now, I freak out every time I am standing below the stairs and I hear the kids up there with a toy.

Recently, even Charlie has been trying to beat up on me. For some unknown reason, he woke up at 5:30 a.m. today and wouldn't go back to sleep. I have been counting down the hours till Luke would be at preschool and I could put Charlie down for a nap. This made for one very overtired little boy. Just 20 minutes ago, I was carrying him up the stairs for a nap and he head butted me more times than I can count. When I dodged him, he began clawing at my jugular! This kid may not look like he has superhuman strength, but watch out! When he doesn't want to do something, he goes Incredible Hulk crazy.

The sad part of this whole situation is that once he does fall asleep (and I can hear him winding down finally in his bedroom), I will have to wake him up 45 minutes later to go pick up Luke from preschool. A sacrificed nap time is truly the plight of the younger sibling. No wonder he's so mad!

HAPPY ANNA HOWARD SHAW DAY

2010-02-14T13:26:00.000-08:00

When it comes to Hallmark Holidays, I would rank my least to favorite in this order -

4. ~~Secretary's~~ Administrative Professional's Day
3. Valentine's Day
2. Father's Day
1. Mother's Day

Valentine's Day was awesome in my mystical teenage fantasies, then crushed when I actually began dating. I never had a boyfriend on Valentine's Day. If I was dating a guy in February (and this happened to me three times) they always managed to break up with me right before the 14th. A few times those boys wanted to start dating again about a week later. Don't tell me that's a coincidence. I know a strategic plan when I see one.

Ironically, the best Valentine's Day that I ever had before I got married was the one when I was dating no one. There were no expectations or heartbreak, so I was pleasantly surprised with the valentines and goodies I received from random guys in my single's ward. Those were the days.

So, I should loooooove Valentine's Day now that I am a married lady. Right? It's still so-so for me. It's not that I hate love. I hate unmet expectations, so I try not to have any. Last night, Erik told me he had to go to the store to buy me some flowers and I stopped him. I said, "Save the money." It's just not romantic for me when I know he's doing it only because it's Valentine's Day. The flowers and dinner he surprised me with last week are much more meaningful to me because it wasn't Valentine's Day. Or maybe I should just say that when my husband and I do nice things for each other all the time, Valentine's Day kind of loses its meaning. That's okay with me.

Just because I said no to flowers, doesn't mean that he didn't give me anything nice for Valentine's Day.

Luke's cousin, Wyatt, is visiting this weekend. We love Wyatt and I am so happy to have him here because it gives the kids someone to play with. Well, Charlie woke up sick this morning, so Erik agreed to take Luke and Wyatt to Sacrament Meeting at church while I stay home with Charlie during the first hour. Is it bad that I am so grateful not to be sitting in church by myself with two little wiggly boys?

I know you don't read my blog regularly, Erik, but just in case you do, I wanted to say thanks for being willing to take the crazy boys to church by yourself. It really is the greatest Valentine's Day gift of all not having to wrestle with kids during sacrament meeting.

SAY MY NAME, SAY MY NAME

2010-02-11T13:03:00.000-08:00

This will not be a post about how I have such an amazing 3 year old. It's more like a post to make you feel like your 3 year old is amazing for writing his or her name.

In preparation for the Valentine's Party at Luke's preschool today, he had to prepare 14 Valentines, with only his name written on each one. Sounds easy, right? Wrong. Luke hates writing and coloring. Whenever I hand him a crayon or pencil at home he just draws what he calls "tracks," i.e., scribbling. I've decided not to be concerned about his lack of writing skills until he's in kindergarden. After all, he is only 3. However, since he is the youngest child in a preschool class with many kids heading off to kindergarden next year, I always feel this pressure for him to do more.

My goal for the cards was just for him to write an L. It was excruciating. I would say, "Go down" and he would go up. I would say "Go right" and he would go left. Plus, he's left handed. Through out the whole ordeal, he would keep acting like he was asleep and snore loudly. I'm just grateful his name is only 4 letters. Heaven help those children named Bartholomew, Maximillian, Jacqueline and Alexandria.

So, here is Luke's "L." I'm proud of him. This is how he handed them out. Which is funny, because now that we are home from the party, I noticed that over half of the kids' parents wrote their names on the valentines for them. C'mon, isn't this about learning?

Something else I didn't realize is that people attach treats to the valentines. Ours were the only ones without some sort of candy. I don't care though, it's not like the kids needed more candy after a lunch consisting only of cookies, chocolate, rice krispie treats, pastries and punch.

I guess as long as they don't eat like that everyday, then it's okay. Right?

SPECIAL DELIVERY

2010-02-09T14:23:00.000-08:00

I just recently stopped using an alarm clock. Although deep down, I knew it was futile, something in me just couldn't let go of the hope that my kids would let me sleep in.

This morning, at 7:15, my doorbell rang. I jumped out of bed and cautiously opened the front door. (We don't have a peephole.) Could it be a special package? Or the police? Nope. Just Luke, coming in from his morning walk. I can not believe I slept through him exiting the house. I have super stealth "mom ears" now, you know? The kind of ears that hear the sounds only dogs pick up on. So much for sleeping in.

Her kids are ransacking the house, yet she sleeps through it.

Parenting magazine just printed an article devoted to sleeping in with toddlers. To summarize, their idea was training your children to be obedient. Interesting concept. One woman in the story trained her children to stay in their rooms until 7 a.m., at which time they found bowls of dry cereal on the kitchen table, and stickers showing them which button to press on the remote control to the television. According to the article, the mother was "still blissfully asleep at 8 a.m. " This is parenting advice? What kind of mother sleeps through her 2 and 4 year old banging around in the kitchen? (Probably the same kind who can sleep through her 3 year old leaving the house to walk around the cul-de-sac at 7 a.m.)

I feel like it's come to the point with my little escape artist, that I just need to teach him how to act appropriately when he escapes, i.e., stay on the sidewalk, go to the neighbor's for help, give him the PIN to my ATM card, show him how to hitch hike, etc. We actually do have a lock on the outside of Luke's bedroom door, but I unlock it when I go to bed so that he doesn't wake me up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom.

All I know is that there is nothing that makes me feel like a worse mom than knowing that I didn't hear my 3 year old leave the house in the morning. Nor did I witness Luke pouring a gallon jug of milk on Charlie after breakfast. Nor did I hear Charlie apply an entire tub of Aquaphor to his head yesterday.

That's not water, it's $20 worth of Aquaphor.

I'm only one person! I can only be so many places at one time!

THAT'S WHAT HUSBANDS ARE FOR

2010-02-07T21:02:00.000-08:00

There are two reasons why we do not own nice things: Child #1 and Child #2 -

Our television is ancient, our couches are hand me downs and our cars are used. (Well, we're cheap too.) Occasionally, I go through brief phases where I toy with the idea of buying nice furniture, a fancy flat screen television, or an expensive cell phone, but then something brings me back to reality... like when my iPod touch went missing this weekend.

How do I love my iPod? Let me count the ways. The iPod is the one nice thing that is all mine. I justify my old lady phone because I have the iPod. I love, love, love, my iPod touch. You get the picture. Pee Wee Herman would probably suggest that I marry my iPod touch. So, back to the story. My iPod goes missing. I was inconsolable. Then, I began to go through all the stages of grief, first denial, then acceptance, I think I was finally entering the bargaining phase when Erik discovered it in the bathroom trash.

The bathroom trash!!! In between diapers and wipes covered with poop. Sorry you had to look at my trash, but I know how much you wanted a visual. (I circled where the iPod was sitting.) Yes, this is courtesy of Charlie. You know, the "easy" child. Ugh. I wish I could say this was unusual, but, I find important things in the garbage all the time. I'm just grateful he doesn't flush strange things down the toilet, yet.

DEATH AND TAXES

2010-02-04T14:41:00.000-08:00

Something I love and hate in the same picture.

I wasn't going to write about it, but I can't hold back any longer.

I hate tax season. I hate doing them, paying them, and most of all, people bragging about how much money they are getting back. I feel like punching something when I read Facebook status updates during tax season.

You see, we belong to that group of crazy Americans who try to take the correct amount of withholdings during each year. Our goal is to pay and receive nothing at tax time. In other words, we don't let the government borrow our money all year. We earn interest on it. I know, it's a weird concept for some.

However, this year, I did our taxes and we owe money to California. This is the first year we have ever owed money. I don't know if it is because of the State's fiscal crisis or lack of poor planning on our part. All I know is that I am mad. I wish I could put a filter on my computer that would block -

Comments about "huge" tax returns.
Bragging about the Earned Income Credit*, Renter's Credit, i.e., low income tax deductions.
Comments about what they are doing with those big tax returns.
Anything positive about taxes.

Boo, California.

*Don't even get me started on the EIC.

MOVIE REVIEW: THE COVE

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

At my sister's urging, I watched The Cove last night. Never heard of it? Neither had I. A film about the killing and exploitation of dolphins didn't sound that appealing to me. Although it did win the Audience Award at Sundance last year which proves that everyone likes a good dolphin killing movie. (Hey! It was a joke!)

The catalyst for the movie, and I'm not kidding, is Ric O'Barry, one of the stars and trainers of Flipper. According to Mr. O'Barry, Flipper, who's real name was Kathy, committed suicide in his arms. This changed Mr. O'Barry's life. Instead of exploiting dolphins, he wanted to save them, thus becoming a radical activist who dons scuba gear and frees dolphins from captivity. His goal in making The Cove is exposing the annual killing of thousands of dolphins in Japan. He gets Industrial Light and Magic to construct crazy cameras for hiding in rocks. trees, etc. and hires two free diving champions to go into this cove and place them. They catch exactly what they wanted to see: dead dolphins.

Did I cry and scream with horror as I watched the dolphins being slaughtered to death? No. Did I cry to learn that Flipper's (aka Kathy's) cries for help were ignored and she committed suicide? No. Did I cry watching these people spend millions of dollars just to film about 5 hours of dolphins be slaughtered? Yes.

If you read my Avatar review, then you probably already think I'm heartless. So it will come as no surprise that I don't feel the need to become an activist after seeing this movie. I don't agree with dolphin killing for no reason and I probably won't go to Sea World ever again, but that's about as far as I'll take it. As referred to in the film with disgust, it seems that I am an "inactivist." So be it.

Still, the movie was kind of entertaining and the thermal cameras were cool.

GRADE: B

BREAKFAST WITH THOMAS

2010-02-01T15:29:00.000-08:00

Once in awhile I am a really, really, cool mom. Today I feel the need to document my coolness and post it online for you, my friends and complete strangers, to read.

Last week, my friend gave the kids a Thomas the Train pop up tent the size of our kitchen and I let the kids eat breakfast in it. As if that wasn't cool enough, I then turned on the heinous Thomas CD at full volume while they were eating. It seemed like a good idea until they started bouncing around like they were at a rock concert. Why am I surprised that the morning ended with syrup everywhere, the tent overturned on top of the sink, and two boys crying at the top of their lungs?

This picture was taken just moments before the chaos. It was not cool.

DOMESTICATE ME

2010-01-29T22:10:00.000-08:00

About 4 times a year, Erik falls asleep the same time as the kids. Tonight was one of those special (and rare) nights. It was 8:30 p.m. and I found myself sitting on the stairs in a completely quiet house.

Lately I have felt this urge to become more domesticated. I've struggled with that a lot in the past. I don't scrapbook, make headbands, decorate my house, or cook exceptionally well. Sometimes I feel like I have no common interest or skill to offer my friends. In an effort to be more interesting, I once asked for a sewing machine for Christmas. Tonight, two years later, I finally used it for the first time.

I'm not sure yet how I feel about sewing in general. My first project is a blanket that I have intended to make for Charlie since he was in the womb. It's a little monotonous and easy to mess up. Every time I sew a stitch, I panic that the bobbin is going to come undone and I'll have to make a new one. I'll be glad when the blanket is finished.

Letting my new sewing machine sit in the closet for over 2 years has taught me that I need to do more things for me. Not in a narcissistic and selfish kind of way, but rather in a way that will help me learn, grow, and become more well rounded. I really want to stop being the person who avoids doing hard things.

I know what you are all wondering. The answer is no, I am not selling this blanket on Etsy when I am done. Instead, depending on how this project goes, I may sell the sewing machine.

COURAGE

2010-01-27T13:25:00.000-08:00

Everyone has fears. I have a lot. There are so many of them that I need to classify them.

For example, my personal fears include dogs, heights, more dogs, and crashing in a private airplane that Erik is flying. My fears as a mother include losing my children or having them attacked by a wild animal or dog. I don't care if you think my fears are silly. They are very legitimate to me.

I have a friend who has a fear of driving over water. She actually used to carry a long rope in the car just in case her car drove off a bridge. The plan was that when the car landed in the water she would tie all her kids together and swim to safety. I didn't exactly understand how she was going to tie all the kids together so quickly. Nor did I understand how she would keep her kids afloat. For some reason though, that rope made her feel more confident. (Her plan reminded me of the part in the Incredibles when the mom has her two kids hold on to her and they swim to the island to save Mr. Incredible.)

Two years ago I read this horrible article about a 21 month old living with his single mother. When his mother died of natural causes, no one found the toddler for weeks. He apparently died a week later. There was evidence that he had been hunting for food. This really stuck with me, because Luke, at the time, was about the same age as this boy.

Any time that Erik is out of town I worry about the kids in case I die in the middle of the night. I have gone as far as to tell people that if I don't show up to appointments or answer the phone, to come break my door down. I even leave a little food accessible to the kids in the kitchen. (Although I doubt they would know how to ration it correctly.)

Well, good news. Luke woke up this morning and poured his own glass of milk. He even dished up some yogurt for himself. AMAZING! I'm not so afraid anymore. The fact that Luke poured his own glass of milk is comforting to me like my friend found comfort in that rope. If they don't kill each other, they might last a little while without me. Maybe. Who knew a simple glass of milk could signify so much?

HOME

2010-01-25T15:47:00.000-08:00

Erik told me I better blog or people are going to think I'm dead. So, hello, people. I'm alive.

Last Monday morning I woke up and decided to go to Arizona for the week. It was the first time I had been with all of my sisters in over a year. I stayed with my sister, Caitlin. 4 kids, ages 3 and under, in one house, makes for a lot of craziness. Fun times, though.

The big news this week is that I think I have mastered the art of the road trip with small children. This morning I left at 6:30 a.m. and arrived home at 12:30 p.m. Not bad, eh? I didn't even have to use the portable DVD player. My secret - STAKE CENTERS!!

I mapped out a few stake centers when I drove to my parents house alone with Luke when he was a baby. They are usually open, a clean place to go to the bathroom and have nice comfortable spots to nurse. Today was especially nice because I only had to stop at one. I love the Stake Center across from the Redlands Temple because it is so close to the freeway. No one questioned why I was changing my kids out of their pajamas and letting them run around like crazy. Win-win.

So, now that my mental health vacation is over, it's on to real life, piles of laundry, an upcoming Relief Society activity to plan, and.... Charlie escaped from his crib this afternoon! Oh no. I wonder how much it will be to overnight a new crib tent to our house?