RosieBlog

I have 15 minutes, and I thought I'd write

2012-01-11T13:04:00.001-06:00

I've been thinking about a lot of things lately.

It has been a few years since I actually set New Year's Resolutions. I used to set goals for the year that sounded like "No Fries in 2004." Or "Floss every single day in 2003." I'm quite good at keeping to those types of things. I really didn't eat french fries for a whole year. Eight or nine years ago I promised myself that I would read with my children every single day. That one has lasted a lot longer than one year. These seemingly simple promises I make to myself have changed my life in profound ways, and I know the value in having good habits.

Setting goals is a good thing.

It is.

Recently, though, I have felt a shift in my January Goal Setting. And when I say recently, what I mean is: over the last several years. Holy moly, that makes me feel old. That in my world, the word "recently" spans many rotations of the earth around the sun. Other things that make me feel old lately: Miley Sirus and Selena Gomez. See also: mirrors.

Back to the shift: I seem to be more focused on broad themes in January. Things like: More Celebration. More Joy. also: Less. Less of everything: less anxiety, less self loathing, less noise, less stuff.

Anyway, that's what has been on my mind. There's more, but I have to go to book club.

We are discussing "Little Princes." That's been on my mind, too.

Gingerbread House 2011

2011-12-31T00:34:00.001-06:00

This post is for Kate, who singlehandedly saved my Christmas caramels by sending me some wrappers from Orson Gigi and asked me about the g-bread post.

This year the Wait girls were reunited for our annual tradition. (Of course, none of us are actually Wait girls anymore.) I think it has been eight years since I made a g-bread house with my mom. First she was in Alaska and then I was in Iowa. Naturally, now that I am out west again, she and Sara came south to rekindle our seasonal affair with molasses and home-made hard-tack candy.

We introduced the art of the g-bread house to my sister in law, Tifiny. She loved it so much, she said she was in it for life.

Here is the house right before we melted the windows.

Here is my finished product. Notice the palm tree in the front to match my actual palm trees.

Here's what it looked like today after it succumbed to the wrath of an air soft gun.

The kids cleaned up the whole mess. I didn't even have to get involved.

Aunt Bethany, Does Your Cat Eat Jell-o?

2011-12-28T15:32:00.000-06:00

I made the conscious choice to enjoy December this year. I didn't over commit myself, I found ways to serve my community, and I adjusted my expectations for the holiday.

We moved into our new house the week before Thanksgiving.

I felt like it was a Martha Stewart move because I had all these little elves running around unpacking my things and decorating shelves and hanging pictures. Robert's sister, Karen, is a whiz with a hammer and nails and his mom opens and unpacks boxes like it's a race to the finish. We took possession of the house on a Friday evening and by Saturday afternoon I was in my new kitchen making pumpkin cookies.

I put up a Christmas tree the week after Thanksgiving but I was utterly unmotivated to decorate the thing. A week before Christmas Day, Stella and George were fed up. They dug out our ornaments and put them on the tree and that is why the uppermost 18 inches didn't have anything on them.

I am totally okay with that.

I made peppermint brownies, honey almond bars, caramels and sugar cookies to deliver to a few of our neighbors, basketball coaches and Scout Leaders. The brownies and the almond bars never made it out the door and only the people within walking distance actually received plates.

It's a good thing the other people on my list don't read my blog because I want them to assume I was too busy unpacking after our move to make Christmas goodie plates.

Of course, if we are being totally honest, I know that our little family is barely a blip on the radar for most of the people on my goodie list. Even if I had delivered a plateful of carbohydrates to their door the recipients would have been saying to each other "Who was that?" "I have no idea, but these caramels are good. Hide them from the kids."

My mom, her husband Jim, Scott and his girlfriend, and Eddie spent Christmas with us. I don't know how it could have been a better weekend. We had a smashing good time.

Having an annual family talent show in your Christmas Jammies: It's a Good Thing.

(Give the video a chance. Right before 2:01, Henry prefaced his performance with this description: I will recite an official American document in a dignified manner. Around here, Dignified=shirtless.)

Right Now

2011-12-27T18:03:00.002-06:00

We are in the midst of one of my favorite weeks of the year.

Our days consist of sleeping in, boxes of chocolate, movie marathons, Wii dance-offs and a fridge full of leftover dips and treats. My kids keep begging me to play games with them and I indulge in hours of guilt-free face time.

Am I the only one who feels guilty about just hanging out with my kids? I'm genuinely happy that they actually still WANT to be with me and include me in their lives, but at the same time I'm thinking about all the work that needs to be done that I don't always Enjoy the Moment.

Not this week.

This week, laundry gets done. Sometimes.

Meals are irregular because nobody is very hungry. (See: the fridge full of leftover treats.)

Sometimes we get dressed.

It's the post-Christmas haze and I'm not saying that we haven't had the Traditional Christmas Meltdown or that I haven't been Bursting Out of My Jeans (see: that darn fridge full of leftover treats), but all in all I'm enjoying the week.

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

Stuff My Kids Say

2011-11-22T10:31:00.001-06:00

"George, please don't play with your cars on the kitchen counters."

"George, please don't run your cars all over the desk."

"George! You are scratching up the kitchen cupboards. Please! Play with your cars on the floor."

"Mom, I really, really, really need a racetrack."

Walking the Dog

2011-11-17T13:43:00.001-06:00

We had to leave the house yesterday in the afternoon because our landlord was showing it to prospective renters. (We are moving again. For the last time. Ever.)

After a frantic cleaning frenzy and a quick after school snack, the kids and I piled into the car to spend an hour at the park. I didn't want to leave the dog behind, she is not a very good tour guide. We arrived at the park without incident and played for a good long time. Even though I realized once we got there that George was not wearing any shoes or socks (see: frantic cleaning frenzy above.)

Believe me, I love every minute of living here. No shoes or socks at the park in November? Yes, please.

I digress.

On the way home, Ginger's butt kept bumping the gear shift into neutral even though Jack was doing his best to keep her out of the way. He rolled down the window to allow her to stick her head out and maybe make some room. It didn't work. At the next stop sign when her butt shifted me back into neutral, it may have shifted my irritation level into overdrive and I may have shoved her just hard enough to make her jump out the window. The hilarity that ensued was gut busting for me. We were right by an empty field and she was determined not to get caught.

In the end, I handed the leash to Jack and said "Please walk her home."

Little did I know that Her Royal Highness of Dog Walking would be out as well. Apparently, on their way to the house, Jack and Creed noticed a woman with her own dog walking toward them and Ginger. Knowing how ~~hyper,~~ ~~psycho~~, FRIENDLY she can get, they promptly crossed the street. Well, so did Her Royal Highness. She seemed intent that the two dogs meet. Of course, when they got close, Ginger pulled hard on the leash and Jack had a good tight hold of it but Ginger is huge and strong and he couldn't get her to stop pulling.

As they passed each other, Her Royal Highness snapped at my son "LEARN how to control your DOG if you are going to take it for a WALK, KID."

Had Jack dropped the leash? No. Did he cross the street in advance and try to avoid the encounter? Yes. Did his dog jump on, bark at, or in any way get tangled up with her or her dog? She was trying to get tangled up, yes, but Jack didn't let her. She wasn't barking or jumping. He allowed for a wide enough birth that the two dogs didn't even get to give a proper hello. (Read: sniff each others' butts.)

The only thing that Her Royal Highness was commenting on was the fact that Jack's dog was pulling hard on the leash and he was clearly pulling pretty hard back.

She doesn't even know him, and a negative comment like that from a stranger devastates my kid. He was downcast the rest of the night.

I told him he should feel honored. It's not every day that you get to meet Royalty while you our out walking the dog.

(I'm just glad that Creed didn't try to run her over on his scooter. He was hoppin' mad at her.)

Nostalgic

2011-11-02T15:07:00.000-05:00

I miss my babies today.

I've been uploading some recent photos to my Picasa Albums, and I started clicking through old pictures.

These photos are from 2008.

George at two months old

My favorite Creed photo ever

The Engine and The Caboose.

We used to call the swirls on his head lollipops. Before they were curls they were swirls.

I hate that chair. I'm glad we sold it before we came to St. George.

This one was taken last month. My three year old hiked over ten miles in October.

I've noticed that it's a lot easier to enjoy parenthood in good weather.

Stuff My Kids Say

2011-10-19T16:09:00.001-05:00

"This is amazing. I wouldn't be at all surprised if a dragon suddenly flew off that ridge and right over us."~Creed

"Are those hills for real? Are they paintings? They look like paintings." ~Stella

"They aren't paint. They're real."~Me

"I think they are paint." ~Stella

"Nope."~me

{then in rapid succession:}

"Paint!"~Stella

"No!"~me

"Paint!"~Stella

"No!"~me

"Paint!"~Stella

"No!"~me

"Paint!"~Stella

"No!"~me

Until Jack hollered out from the passenger seat:

"DUMBLEDORE!"

All of this was back in August on our first drive to Zion's National Park.

21

2011-09-22T02:28:00.001-05:00

"So does this mean I'm number 21?"

"Uh, yeah. Is that okay?"

Isn't my friend Becky beautiful? I wish you could meet her because as stunning as she is in this shot, she becomes even lovelier as you get to know her.

She and her husband throw THE BEST Halloween and birthday parties.

Becky is one of my most favorite people I've known. I haven't seen her since our husbands were in school together, so of course I was thrilled when she said she wanted to stop by my home as she drove through St. George.

Becky, it was great to see you and I only wish you could have stayed a little longer.

I'm blogging from my phone (phlogging?) and it is already tomorrow. I'm selling my friend short here, but my eyes won't stay open any longer.

G'night lovies.

Twenty

2011-09-20T23:37:00.001-05:00

Of all the things i have lost since we moved, I think I miss my Spanx the most.

Nineteen

2011-09-19T23:52:00.001-05:00

Okay, based on Christie and Kristelle's comments on my last post, I googled "sea shell ceramic curlers" and "prostyler."

I suspect Kristelle meant to reference the TopStyler. Correct me if I'm wrong. I have not seen this infomercial, but thanks to my in-depth YouTube research I think I may have to try these curlers as well.

In the meantime, I thought of two other products I have tried based on their commercials. First was the Richard Caruso Molecular Hairsetter. I begged my mom to buy this for me back in high school and for some reason . . . she did! It was a contraption that infused pink sponge curlers with hot steam one at a time. I remember it was awkward and time consuming, but I also remember that those curls lasted for days.

One Christmas I was lucky enough to open the gift that my sister in law, Tifiny, had placed into the family Yankee Gift Swap. I was so excited when I opened it, I may have squealed. I had been watching the infomercials for weeks drooling over this product. I don't think the other people in the circle knew what a treasure I was holding because nobody stole it from me. I actually went home with it! It was . . . are you ready for this?

SUSAN LUCCI'S YOUTHFUL ESSENCE HOME MICRODERMABRASION KIT!

I loved that thing. Of course, I stopped using it when I ran out of cleanser.

On a side note: do you censor yourself on your blog? If so, what are your standards for censoring yourself? I censored myself in this entry based on the fact that my mom, dad, stepmom, and at least two stepsisters (Mandy is the latest stepsister to look at it, and I promised her a shout out a long time ago. Hi Mandy!) are reading this blog and I didn't want them to read a story that had the word "xxxxxxx" in it.

At least I think they are still reading.

Thoughts?

Post Edit: I removed the potentially scandalous word from this post. I realized that while I know my kids aren't reading my blog at home, I don't know if they are looking at it elsewhere. They have internet access at school, and they know the blog address. It's true that over time they may be able to appreciate the humor in certain situations (mom, dad: that's not the case with me, so don't use any scandalous words around me) but for now I will spare them any embarrassment that I can. If you want to know the story that I wrote out last night and was laughing out loud at myself, then shoot me an email and I'll tell you. Otherwise, it will live in my handwritten journal.

Eighteen

2011-09-19T15:53:00.001-05:00

Forgive me if I have talked about my love of all things infomercial before. I feel like I have, but after quickly glancing over my archives, I can't find any reference to Proactiv or the SmartSpin Storage system and now I have discovered something new that I want to try.

First, a brief and incomplete history of my As Seen on T.V. experiences:

I ordered Proactiv Solution back in the day when Judith Light was still their only celebrity spokesperson. I bought bareMinerals make-up ten years ago when Leslie Blodgett was hocking it late one night as I was up with a little tiny Creed attached to my body. The SmartSpin Storage System changed my small space life. It was genius! I used it for 8 years, and finally sent it to the Kitchen Cupboard in the Sky when we moved last month because the last container cracked. I have never bought a Power Juicer from Jack Le Lanne because it was always way out of my price range, but I have watched so many of his infomercials that he became my fitness and nutrition hero. (He was a pretty cool guy. I love watching videos of him performing his fitness feats.) As I'm sitting here, I can't think of anything I ever ordered from television that I wasn't thrilled with.

Wait. I just thought of something. It was a facial cleanser that I bought from Q.V.C. I didn't like how it smelled.

I spent four years in Iowa with terrible t.v. reception, so I haven't seen any of the recent television ads. Until last month. We spent a few weeks in a hotel and (go ahead and judge me) watching t.v. I was like a kid in a candy store with all the infomercials I had never seen. I loved it! Now there is one that I can't get out of my head.

Have you seen the ads for WEN? I'm desperate to try it. Whenever I'm rinsing the conditioner out of my hair, I think to myself "my hair would be so much silkier and smoother if I were using WEN." Later, when I am combing out all the snarls, I think back to the glory that was those models' lucsious long locks and I know, I just KNOW that my hair would be as beautiful as theirs were I to try that product.

I think I am going to order it.

Seriously, I just went to their website so that I could link to them above, and I watched all the videos again and looked at all the before and afters (because I am a sucker for a good makeover, too!) and I really REALLY want to try it!

As a side note, you should know that the whole time I was watching the infomercial for WEN, my kids were smirking and saying things like "Mom, you don't need that. That is weird." Then an infomercial for some makeup came on and they all said "You should get that! You have red spots all over your face!"

I want to try WEN.

Seventeen

2011-09-18T23:05:00.001-05:00

Yesterday was one of those days.

Two cars bursting at the seams with kids, two baskets full of chicken, grapes, cheese, chips, and licorice, and two flats of water plus a short drive to Snow Canyon State Park is a recipe for mamabliss.

The hills at that park were indeed alive with the sounds of laughter and squeals of sixteen children. Our four plus Earl's twelve were all over the place for hours. Lizards were chased, ant colonies were watched, frogs were caught (and released), and mountains were scaled.

The day was rounded off with an evening football game. I am surprised at how playing football has changed my son. He. Loves. It. Because he loves it, so do I.

It was one of those days that I will return to in my mind during the bleak winter months when I can barely drag myself out of bed because it is so dark and dreary.

Oh wait.

I live in St. George now. This is the land of 300 sunny days per year. This is where people come to escape the winter.

It was still a great day.

Sixteen

2011-09-17T00:44:00.001-05:00

Holy cow, I almost forgot to post today. I'm laying in bed next to Robert who is passed out cold and, honestly I was just going through my mental checklist of what I did today and what needs to happen tomorrow and I was about to enter dreamland myself when I remembered about this space.

We have two non-permanents under our roof tonight. A friend of Jack's is spending the weekend here because his mom had a family emergency and had to drive to Salt Lake at the last minute. All the boys are sleeping in one room, and Stella is having a slumber party with Lola.

I'm exhausted and I'm literally phoning this entry in anyway. Tomorrow should be better because we are taking everyone to some local hot springs. It seems promising.

Fifteen

2011-09-15T22:05:00.001-05:00

The problem with having Oatmeal Cake for dessert tonight . . . is that I most certainly will have it for breakfast tomorrow.

Oatmeal Cake
1 cup oatmeal
1 1/2 cup water
1/2 cup butter
1 cup brown sugar
1 cup white sugar
2 eggs
1 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. cinnamon
1/2 tsp. salt
1 1/2 cup flour
Caramel Topping (recipe follows)

Heat oven to 350.

Mix the oatmeal and the water in a medium bowl and let stand.

In a separate bowl, cream the butter and the sugars. Add the eggs and mix well. Add the dry ingredients and mix until combined. Add the oatmeal mixture to the cake mixture and combine.

Bake 30-40 minutes in a greased 9x12 pan. Do not overbake.

Caramel Topping (add to a hot or a cold cake):
1/2 cup butter
3/4 cup brown sugar
1 Tbsp milk
1 Tbsp karo syrup (gasp!)

Mix all ingredients and bring to a boil for one minute. Spread on cake and add some chopped walnuts or pecans (nuts are optional. As I'm reading this recipe, I'm realizing that I have never added nuts.) Put the cake under the broiler and remove when topping gets bubbly.

We like to serve this with freshly whipped cream or vanilla ice cream.

If you stop by my home for a visit, rest assured that you will be fed. Tonight Tifiny called and said she was hoping for dessert when she got here, which made my heart melt. I had the cake ready to serve by the time she arrived. Pictured above from left to right: Robert's legs, Earl (Robert's brother), Tifiny (Earl's wife), Lola (Robert's mom), Tifiny's mom and Tifiny's Dad.

Fourteen

2011-09-14T22:32:00.001-05:00

Sometimes my kids surprise me when any kind of screen time (tv, video games, iPod touch etc.) is removed from their after school options.

Yesterday Ol' Lefty sat down with a pen, some paper and a pair of scissors. He calls the card game he came up with "Dragon Wars." It's basically a glorified game of regular war with each hand crafted card depicting an action that a dragon might take in battle with corresponding points. The best card is "call herd" and it's unbeatable.

After playing all evening yesterday, Stella came home today with this question on her lips "Wanna play Dragon Wars?"

They played for about an hour today before her big brother started teasing her and she started screaming.

After that, Dragon Wars went to time out.

Thirteen

2011-09-13T17:33:00.001-05:00

Have you seen this inspiring footage of a group of Good Samaritans?

They deadlifted a car that was on fire and rescued the injured motorcyclist who was trapped underneath.

The man being interviewed in the bottom left of this screen shot is the man who shot the video and our old family friend! He is my kids' Uncle Chris! He taught my kids how to wakeboard!

My sister is working as his manager and she has been fielding calls from CNN, NBC, the L.A. Times, and Inside Edition among others all day.

I feel a renewed sense of hope for humanity after seeing this video. I also feel a renewed sense of urgency to recommit to my Olympic Weightlifting.

Twelve

2011-09-12T22:37:00.001-05:00

I am happy to be going to bed at a decent hour tonight.

We had a delightful cloudburst this afternoon. It resulted in a double rainbow and a spectacular sunset.

Stella can almost ride her bike independently.

I'm looking forward to a day at home tomorrow. I think I may get through the rest of the boxes. They are mostly full of books, and I don't have enough bookshelves to house them.

Which is why they are still in boxes.

We had ramen noodles with leftover beans and rice for dinner. It was decidedly UNspectacular, but we ate together.

Sometimes blogging every day gets boring.

Thanks for reading.

I (probably) love you.

Eleven

2011-09-11T23:10:00.001-05:00

A lesson on Filipino family words:

Kuya: big brother
Ate: (pronounced AH-tae) big sister
Nanay: (pronounced NAHN-eye) mother
Tatay: father
Tito: uncle
Tita: aunt
Lolo: grandfather
Lola: grandmother

This is a photo of Robert with the Kuya of our kids' Lola. We picked him up at his house in Las Vegas and took him and his wife with us to Salt Lake so that he could spend the past week with his baby sister.

She calls him Kuya Junior, but he said that we are not to call him that. He would prefer to be Lolo to our children. That could get confusing, because their Lolo is Robert's dad. So we settled on the name Lolo Junior, which means we are technically calling him Grandpa Junior. His wife's name is super fun to say out loud.

Lola Yoli

I dare you to say it without smiling.

Ten

2011-09-11T02:39:00.001-05:00

After the services yesterday, our good friends knew the boys might need a little distraction.

Thanks to Dallas & Shannon, Jack and Ol' Lefty took a detour to the Dew Tour. The cast has now been signed by a professional BMXer.

We arranged for pick up at the Nickelcade. Dallas and Robert had as much fun as the kids, but there were two girls monopolizing Dance Dance Revolution so the reunion performance of the Shannon/Liz dancing duo was postponed.

I put my phone away for the party at Maegan & Quinn's, so I don't have any photos of us eating our Chinese food from the Mandarin, but you can believe it may have been the best Chinese food I've ever eaten.

I'm so glad I invited Mae to have a party with me and The Garffs and Eddie.

The boys fell sound asleep as soon as we made it back to a pillow and a blanket.

Total exhaustion is the sign of a day well spent.

Nine

2011-09-10T00:22:00.001-05:00

Today I have no words. I'll be back tomorrow.

Eight

2011-09-08T15:28:00.001-05:00

While I was in the hospital with Ol' Lefty, Robert was home keeping the fires burning. He met Jack at the bus stop, picked Stella up from school, got Jack to football practice, and made sure George got a nap.

He also called me and asked me how to make taco soup.

It was delicious.

Seven

2011-09-07T21:07:00.001-05:00

My baby girl, my partner in crime, my zombie slaying, alien hunting, Star Wars loving, tutu wearing connoisseur of all things fluffy or furry turned seven years old today.

She is on my side every time I suggest a Broadway musical for our family movie night. She lives in skirts and dresses and sparkles yet she can hold her own among her brothers and their friends in their games of wrestling and football and swordplay. She is equally at home in a mud puddle or performing in a ballet recital.

Sometimes I worry that she will be that girl who people love to hate, because she really is That Fantastic, that talented. Then I see her reaching out to the lonely child in class, or the new kid in school, and I know that she is far too kind and sensitive to be that girl.

She is excited because she received a Fur-Real Friend for her birthday gift. According to her she now has enough for an army (three), and the little guy she received today is going to be her General.

She spent the whole day with her Grandma and her Auntie Sara and they spoiled her rotten, which is just as it should be.

She's my girl and today she is seven.

Six

2011-09-07T01:10:00.001-05:00

August 24 of this year found us on a truly intimate tour of Robert's new working environment.

The secretary at the school phoned and informed me that my kid had been involved in an accident on the playground and his arm was bothering him.

I happened to be driving by the school at that moment and pulled right in. Thank goodness we finally bought cell phones last year! When he showed me his arm, it was clearly broken. It looked as though his entire elbow had shifted out of place under his skin.

The wait in the E.R. was virtually nonexistent. We were not even permitted to sit down in the waiting room. As we entered, an employee ushered us directly into the back with a sympathetic smile. Once we made it into our room, my child didn't even have to leave for his X-Rays. The technician brought the machine to him, which was lucky because he was in so much pain I don't know if I could have handled watching him be wheeled from room to room. It was the kind of pain where I would have tolerated all kinds of whining and whimpering. There was none of that, though, simply the request from behind his closed eyes for his mother to sing to him. (And I know what you're thinking, especially if you've ever watched me sing with the kids during primary. My only explanation for him making that request at that time is maybe there is something in sharing a genetic code that wires a kid to find the sound of his mother's voice soothing~no matter what she sounds like when she sings. I don't care, I'll take it!)

He was much happier after the surgery and the bone was set & splinted. Two pins were placed in his humerus just above the elbow in the growth plates. He's worried about the growth plate factor because he thinks his arms are already scrawny enough.

Does his broken arm slow him down at all? No way. Remember the mile hike we did last week in the dark, alongside a ravine? He didn't even bat an eyelash. Okay, he may have been a leetle bit nervous, but he didn't use his arm as an excuse, I don't think it even crossed his mind. He got 100% on his spelling test the Friday after his surgery with one arm tied behind his back.

Today he visited the surgeon's office to remove the splint and get the cast. Look at that pin sticking out of his arm!

This weekend as he related the story of how he broke his arm to his Great -Uncles (Robert's dad's brothers) he said that one girl in his class thought he had over-reacted to his injury. His response was "I think I under-reacted. I didn't even cry!"

Is it ironic that the year I sign him up to play tackle football he trips on the school playground playing basketball and is out for the whole season before the first game but after all the conditioning practices?

After the Alanis Morissette song, I'm not at all certain about the definition of irony.

Five

2011-09-06T01:17:00.001-05:00

My heart broke wide open today.

The world is a better place because my father-in-law spent 63 years here making his mark.

He greeted his last day on earth much the same way he began many of his days; with a hearty "Good Morning!"

His final moments were spent in the arms of his lifelong sweetheart and surrounded by his children and grandchildren.

Some of us spent the evening sorting through boxes of old photos.

Some of us spent our time cooking, trying to make ourselves feel useful by offering nourishment in the best way we know how.

We lost one of the good ones today.

Thank you for your kind words, your well wishes, you prayers for comfort and your good vibes. I know they mean so much to my husband and his family. and to me, too.

Four

2011-09-04T23:14:00.001-05:00

We are keeping vigil around Robert's dad tonight.

Lots of tears, lots of laughter, and intermittent silence.

He keeps requesting Pepsi and Earl came up with a siphon to help him drink it.

We are glad we can be here, but I feel so sad.

Visit earlgrose.blogspot.com to read about his battle with cancer.

Three

2011-09-03T21:57:00.002-05:00

Jack, Creed, and Stella are some of the most adventurous eaters I have ever known. Since they were babies, they have eaten (mostly) whatever was put in front of them. I used to dump salsa on their high chair trays and let them have at it. One of Creed's favorite foods is fried squid legs, for crying out loud! They have been known to fight over who gets the onions in the pot roast. They all love sushi, seafood, veggies, fruits, everything.

The other day I sliced up an avocado and didn't put any slices on the kids' plates at dinner. What kid likes plain avocado? When they saw the green goo on their parents' plates, they all piped up with "Why does dad get avocado and not us?"

Simmer down, you can have avocado. Sheesh.

Somehow, George is the exact opposite. He survives on milk, bananas, oatmeal, black beans, cookies, yogurt, string cheese, and french fries. . . and chewable vitamins when I remember to give him one. Recently I decided I had had enough. I refuse to raise picky eaters and I was committed to solving the problem.

I determined that I would starve the pickiness out of him.

My new rules were:

no cups of milk until after he eats his food, but he can have all the water he wants
no snacks for at least an hour before a meal
absolutely no snacks between meals if he didn't eat the previous meal
and if he didn't eat a particular meal, it was saved and offered to him again at the next meal
no trying to talk him into eating anything (this one is especially hard, but keeps me sane)
he has to sit at the table until either a) he has had a bite of everything or b) bedtime

When I first started, I felt so harsh. There have been evenings when my baby sat at the dinner table from 4:30pm to 7:30pm. We won't even talk about the two day taco incident.

I persevered, though. I was patient and unemotional (why do I forget that I need to remove my emotions from the parenting equation?) and luckily he is catching on before starving to death.

Lately he has eaten among other things: grilled cheese sandwiches, salmon patties, zucchini, lettuce, blueberries, pasta with red sauce and meatballs, a hamburger for breakfast on Thursday, toast, and pancakes.

We had out of towners here this morning for breakfast and one of them even called him a good eater!

Tonight we had lasagna and here is phone-tographic proof that he enjoyed it! He even ate the spinach.

"Is this basanya, mama?"

"Yes, it is basanya, George. Next I will teach you about utensils. Baby steps."

Two

2011-09-02T14:11:00.005-05:00

I have become a phonetographer. It's due to a mixture of laziness on my part and the fact that my camera has been acting a little funny. If the lack of quality in my photos bothers you, you can click on them and they look a smidge sharper. Some of these were taken in really low light, though, so I don't know how much the quality will improve.
This morning we woke the kids up at 4:15 and drove to Zion's National Park. We hiked the Canyon Overlook trail.

My poor kids were quite apprehensive about hiking in the dark, even with flashlights. Except for George. His words as we hiked the trail were "I am so HAPPY right now, mama!"
We surprised the kids with a breakfast of donuts and chocolate milk which we ate as we watched the sun come up.

As we ate, we talked a little bit about courage, and what it means to be courageous.

We discussed the difference between acts of physical courage and acts of moral courage.

We all agreed that it was pretty courageous of Ol' Lefty to go on that hike with us even though his right arm is in a cast.

(I think it is courageous of me to post pictures of myself with no makeup.)

We drove back into town and the kids went to school while Robert and I assembled shelves in the garage and unpacked (almost) all the rest of the boxes.
Is this my life? Somebody pinch me, I think I might be dreaming.

P.S. My hair still looks like that and I haven't put on any makeup today.

One

2011-09-01T21:49:00.001-05:00

Downsizing our household has been so much fun. The bedrooms in our house are just big enough for two twin beds and maybe a nightstand between them. This means we are eliminating dressers. We only have one. I brought it with me from my parents' house when I married Robert.

When we dropped it off at the D.I. Robert made the observation that he has now supplanted the dresser as the item I have had the longest. I received that dresser for my 15th or 16th birthday.

I guess we just donated my dowry.

Notes from the Laundromat

2011-08-31T12:16:00.001-05:00

I have travelled back in time to the early years of my marriage when I saved quarters and washed several loads of laundry at once. (Washer and dryer stopped working last week.)

When I slyly took the above photo with my phone, George yelled "mom! Are you taking picher of dat guy?"

When dat guy was done putting his clothes in the wash, he sat down right next to us. After a minute of watching us color he told me I was a good mom. Then I learned the following facts:

1. He has a 44 year old son who is an electrician in Las Vegas and hasn't worked in 2 years.

2. He sends his son $500 each month.

3. He is a retired attorney for the government and when he left Washington D.C. in 1982 he shook his finger at the white house and told them they were messing things up too much.

4. On his son's 16th birthday he gave him a car, a truck, and a motorcycle.

5. He can't hear. Which makes me wonder how he knew I was a good mom. I think he uses that line on all the moms so that he can talk about his life for awhile.

Earlier this week a toothless man gave George a quarter to play a video game and helped him play while we waited for our clothes to dry.

Also, the other patron of the laundromat, not the old man, was washing a single shirt today.

August Happened

2011-08-30T22:47:00.002-05:00

In bullet list:

We moved to St. George. I came in advance with the kids and Robert joined us two weeks later.
The comments from the kids on the day we pulled into town were priceless. "This place is beautiful!" "Mom, thank you so much for moving us here!" "Are those mountains real or fake?"
Our truck was two weeks late in bringing our stuff to us, and when it finally arrived, I just wanted them to turn around and unload at the dump.
The dump is free here.
Robert was here by then and he wouldn't let me do that.
The house we are renting is smaller than our house in Iowa by more than half.
We have become intimately acquainted with the local Goodwill, a.k.a. the D.I., and also the Dump.
The dump is free here!
So far, Robert loves his new job.
The kids have tons of friends and I am considering installing revolving doors on the house because of all the people coming and going all the time.
Except that we are renting and I don't think the landlords would appreciate that.
I have lost five pounds since I got here. I'm pretty sure it was just the water evaporating out of my system.
You know, since we moved from the humidity of the Midwest to the desert of the Southwest.
Everyone says we came in the height of the worst weather of the year.
I say, if this is the worst you can do, I am going to have to be pried out of this place with a crowbar.

How We Celebrated

2011-07-23T09:27:00.003-05:00

Our family birthday tradition, as it is with so many families, is to take the birthday child out to the restaurant of their choice. After days of saying "I like it all, mom. You can pick your favorite restaurant," Jack finally chose the Iowa Machine Shed.

We also tell our wishes as soon as we make them. I've been teaching my kids since they were old enough to wish for things that unless you tell me your wish, it won't come true.

If I don't know their wishes, how can I fulfill them?

Jack wished for a gift. Nothing specific. He just was just hoping for A Gift.

Wish Granted. The next day (on his birthday) he received a multi tool and books. He was delighted. He also gifted his siblings with new books.

He was able to spend the day at Adventureland with two friends:

His birthday dinner was Rice and Beans. He had three helpings.

Then we took everyone to see Shakespeare in the Park. The play was As You Like It and the weather was miserable. Nobody complained though and I was beyond moved to be sitting on a picnic blanket with my family partaking of the Bard.

We were sitting at the bottom of a hill on Stage Left, so the action was difficult to see at times. During intermission we moved our blanket up the hill, to get a better view. Then, when the actor playing Jacques was sneaking around the forest, he used our family as a hiding spot! Stella and Creed were so involved with the action on Stage, they didn't even notice he was sitting on our blanket.

Creed (Henry) wants to see A Midsummer Night's Dream next. I think the Utah Shakespearean Festival is performing that this summer, so we should be able to make that work! If I'm not mistaken, it's the play Fred Adams is directing in the Globe.

We came home and had birthday cake. Robert made his world famous Chocolate Creme Cake.

I'm done talking about Jack's Birthday, but I reserve the right to lament how fast he and his siblings are growing up.

Different Elements of Everything

2011-07-22T08:37:00.004-05:00

An Interview with the Birthday Boy

Favorite Snack: Olive oil and balsamic vinegar with bread or apples and peanut butter

Favorite Dinner: Beans and Rice

Favorite Cuisine: I like different elements of everything.

Favorite School Subject: Reading

Favorite Hobby: Legos or Reading

Favorite Book: Ender's Game

Favorite Sport: Tennis

Favorite Band: The Aquabats and Barenaked Ladies

Favorite Movie: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

Favorite Color: Red & Black

Favorite Personality Trait in Yourself: Smart, polite, respectful, responsible

Would Like to Develop More: Patience

Favorite Physical Trait: I am handsome and strong.

Favorite T.V. show? Mythbusters

Favorite game: Nexus Ops (this is not a video game. It's a board game. Click on the link to learn more.)

Biggest Regret: Spending my money at the arcade.

What is the hardest thing you have ever done? Moved to Iowa

What is the thing you have done that makes you most proud? Read the Book of Mormon cover to cover in three weeks.

What is your goal for this year? to get more daring to try new things

What would you like to teach younger generations? pick up after yourself.

What are you most looking forward to this year? Moving to St. George

If you could have dinner with any three people, who would they be? I can't narrow it down. Harry Potter, Ender Wiggin, Master Chief, Bill Gates or Bill Cosby

If you could have three wishes, what would they be?

A wallet that magically appears in my pocket if I lose it and always has $200 in it.
Tap into any knowledge instantly.
Read other people's thoughts. I told him I would never want that power. I do NOT want to know what people are actually thinking. His reply? I want to read people's thoughts so that I can help resolve conflicts.

What are you most worried about? All the nuclear weapons in the world.

What would you do with a million dollars? First I would pay off dad's student loans, then I would buy an XBOX 360, Halo Reach, Ninja Plus, some cool Apps for dad's IPOD touch, everyone in my family something they want and all the people we are related to something small. And I would have my watch repaired.

What do you want to be when you grow up? Successful. That means that I would have lots of money, be a good person with a wife and kids, faithful, a return missionary, and we would have Family Home Evening.

I want to hold on longer

2011-07-21T20:35:00.001-05:00

Twelve years ago today, I turned to Robert and I said "I think this baby is on his way."

He was born the next day.

He was the first grandson on both sides of his family.

Tiny fingers. Tiny toes. He was passed from one set of waiting arms to another like a loaf of bread. Or a football.

Then I blinked.

Breaking Bread

2011-07-17T16:00:00.008-05:00

"Good bread is the most fundamentally satisfying of all foods; good bread with fresh butter, the greatest of feasts!" ~James Beard

Have you tried the Sullivan Method for your breadmaking? They claim it is so easy, a six year old could do it. Stella, our resident six year old, was busy doing six year old things all weekend and couldn't be bothered to bake, so I turned to our ten year old to see if he was interested in learning how to make bread.

I figured, what better time is there to have the oven at 475 for two hours than a day when the heat indexes at 110?

The recipe was indeed easy, and the result was truly satisfying. The crust was thick and crunchy and the middle was soft and chewy.

It would be the perfect addition to a hot soup in October. Or February.
Okay, okay, it's great with a salad, too but I don't know if I will be able to bring myself to heat the oven at dinnertime again anytime soon. Maybe I'll have to bake it in the early morning hours when we are sitting at a balmy 90 degrees.
I'm sick of this humidity. I am looking forward to the dry heat of St. George.
Two Weeks to go!!

Round Two

2011-07-15T12:46:00.002-05:00

While I waited for the movie to start last night, I learned that Cartoon Network is releasing a new Thundercats series. I used to LOVE that show! I think I've written about my love for those kitty cats before.

Also, Ginnifer Goodwyn and Christina Ricci are both in new series for ABC? I'd say that American Broadcasting Company is stepping up their game. I've been hoping for the return of good writing to primetime for awhile. I'm done being stuck with the fallout of the writer's strike. (See: crappy reality tv, and too many musical montages in anything with a written script.)

And finally, I'm sitting here waiting for round two to start. Creed didn't want to come with us last night because he wanted me to prescreen HP7pt2 so that I could tell him when to close his eyes.

Today I am in costume.

Bittersweet End of an Era

2011-07-14T21:20:00.002-05:00

Me: I just need to quickly blog about what we are doing. Hang on.

Him: (mockingly) Blog? Really mom?

Me: Yes. My readers are all wondering what we are up to!

Him: Do you mean grandma and Sara?

Touché, young man. Touché.

To be fair, I also meant him and his siblings and their offspring.

And you, of course!

Here we are, all settled into our good seats for our three hour wait. We both have books and Coke.

See you on the other side, muggles!!!

(I can't believe I'm not in costume. MAJOR FAIL. At least I carry with me the knowledge that I was sorted by the actual real life sorting hat. Gryffindor, in case you were wondering.)

2011-07-09T11:35:00.004-05:00

Sometimes I go on dates with people that aren't Robert.

It's not as scandalous as it sounds.

I took Creed (Henry) on a date. We had ice cream.

I believe he chose a Vanilla Cookie Dough Concrete mixer.

I had a small cup of Chocolate ice cream (custard) with Peanut Butter Sauce.

We decided to spread some anonymous cheer around our neighborhood. We acquired some inexpensive note cards and wrote positive, uplifting messages on them. Then we drove around town delivering them in places where they were sure to be found. Creed even approached a couple of strangers exiting a restaurant and offered them his notes.

There was a lot of giggling and running around trying to avoid being seen. I would pull up next to a parked car and he would jump out of our car, place a notecard under the windshield wiper of the parked car, then jump back into our car and we would zoom away in a fit of laughter.

I learned that he and I have very different styles when it comes to an uplifting message.

I included poetry and famous quotes.

Here's an example:

"What lies behind us and what lies before us are small matters compared to what lies within us." ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

Creed took the "laughter is the best medicine" approach and went for those laughs.

Observe:

And here he is in Valley Junction pausing for a photo.
Dating my kids is one of my favorite activities. I love getting them all alone for an hour or two.

Inependence Day/Filipino-American Friendship Day

2011-07-05T09:45:00.002-05:00

Happy July 4th.

We used to celebrated by roasting an entire pig and inviting everyone we knew to help us eat it.

Those were the days.

As an homage to that time, we had pulled pork sandwiches yesterday. They were delicious.

I made a flag cake the first year we were here, and I haven't been able to get out of it since. It is one of my favorite desserts of the year and the only time I buy raspberries.

We had a bunch of people over to help us eat the food. We have a great group of friends here.

I'm looking forward to next year when we can legally light fireworks again...oh, were you unaware that it is illegal to light any firework besides sparklers in Iowa? Well it is.

Home Again, Home Again

2011-07-03T12:00:00.002-05:00

We spent the last week in St. George experiencing all of the stress that comes with trying to find a place for your family to rest their heads for the foreseeable future.

I'll spare you the details of our tour of the St. George rental property market. Despite the fact that we had tons to do, it was nice to affirm that we still like each other outside of our parenting rolls, even after 14+ years of marriage.

And even though I am really excited for the day when the last child moves out and I have Robert all to myself again, I am giddy with the thought of wrapping my arms around the little monsters by the end of today.

Positively giddy.

Link to a post

2011-06-26T17:03:00.002-05:00

Our friends came to town earlier this month.

Dallas may very well be my oldest friend. (As in, longest running, not in years.) Our mothers were friends when his older brother and I were in utero. They are the only people not related to me that I have known my whole life.

He is also married to one of my favorite people. Shannon is a good influence on me (she is much more patient than I am) and I am looking forward to spending more time with her after I move west.

Here is a link to his post with lots of pictures about their day in Des Moines.

They were added to my list just in time!

This is my favorite Creed Hair Phase

2011-05-11T17:11:00.000-05:00

Local Comedy

2011-05-03T15:03:00.002-05:00

Last night our friend invited us to watch him perform his stand up comedy routine. He had taken a community ed class on the art of Stand-Up (who knew there was such a class?) and this was the students' opportunity to showcase their talents. And can I just tell you . . .

It was one of the best dates we've had in a long time.

The performers ranged in age from the 14 year old who had invited us to the 80+ year old woman whose routine centered around a mitten she had knitted and put in her box of unfinished projects.

There were lots of jokes about Facebook (I deleted my account recently. It was liberating.) and there were many jokes about the movie "Cocoon" directed at all of the aforementioned 80+ year old's supporters in the audience.

For an hour and a half, my smile didn't leave my face.

I know, I just KNOW that if we were going to be living in this town a year from now, Robert would be enrolled in that class.

He would bring the house down, too.

Lovers of the Undead in Southern Utah

2011-04-20T14:53:00.006-05:00

A few months ago, Robert returned at the end of another long, exhausting, frustrating day at work. His face and demeanor were bravely trying to keep an upbeat attitude about the general hopelessness he clearly felt. As we talked about his day, he used all the familiar words from the past months as he attempted to make light of his misery. I watched him talk for a moment and as I listened, my heart pounded in my chest and my hand reached across the table for his.

He looked at me with no smile, no light in his eye.

Do you know my husband? Robert, of all people, has a light in his eye. He is the man who cheerfully washed dishes at my restaurant so that he could spend time with me while I waited tables. He hummed songs as he scrubbed toilets so that his children could eat when he was in school. He enjoys work. And now, his job, the one he had trained and studied for over the course of our entire 13 almost 14 year marriage, had extinguished it.

He (we) had chosen unwisely, and until that moment a few months ago, I tried to ignore it.

When I finally vocalized what we both knew, "Robert, you hate your job," I watched a weight lift off his shoulders and the stress dissipate ever so slightly.

"I do, I really do," he sighed. Admitting you have a problem is half the battle.

"Find a new one," I told him.

And so he has.

Over the weekend, as I accompanied him on his latest trip, I saw the spring return to his step.

I witnessed the light reignite from within my beloved.

He is positively glowing at the prospect of moving to St. George.

Stella said tonight "I hope there are a lot of girls in St. George who like zombies."

I'm sorry if this is how you are finding out that we are moving. I don't have an excuse for that.

We caught coconut on fire . . .

2011-04-08T12:28:00.004-05:00

. . . and I grabbed my camera. The week my mom came to stay, we made a batch of cupcakes and ignited the coconut that we were toasting for the topping. The day I post the recipe for my cupcakes, you should immediately log off of the internet and run away, because they are evil.

We happened upon a cake decorating contest at the local mall. The contestants were the finalists in a competition between all of the Hyvee cake decorators all over the midwest. The Wonka Bar was so cute!

I actually don't think this Pasta Cake looks very appetizing, but it reminded me of the time we made backwards dinner with our friends. We made pot roast and mashed potato hot fudge sundaes. It was delightful and I was happy to think of Nick and Michelle.

Robert walked by this suit and exclaimed, "Look, Liz! A suit for a genie!" I think he is hilarious.

Stella was able to have a special day with grandma. She skipped school and went to the Cheesecake Factory for lunch and also went to the spa for a mani/pedi. The next day, Jack and Creed were able to leave school early to see "Diary of a Wimpy Kid: Rodrick Rules" with grandma.

We enjoyed the above freezing temperatures and went for a walk or two.

Jack likes to use his own money at the gas station for treats. On this day, he bought everyone a snack. I wish he wouldn't spend his money so frivolously, but I'm also heartened by his generosity. He thinks nothing of purchasing treats for his younger siblings.

This was the longest visit I've had with my mom. I loved it!

Because a blog update is as good a use of 30 minutes as anything

2011-04-05T21:13:00.002-05:00

On Tuesdays we have piano lessons and guitar lessons all over town. Not really, but I drop the middle children off at piano and then take Jack to guitar about a mile down the street. Today, Robert will pick up the pianists, which gives me a half hour in the parking lot with Georgie.

This is what we look like today.

For your viewing pleasure, I submit the following photo dump and summary of (fairly) recent activities.

A week after our epic Disney trip the kids had spring break. Roberto stayed here to toil away healing the sick and teaching medical students while I loaded our offspring into the family wagon for the twelve hour drive to see grandpa and Nana Sue.

Stella and George were immediately smitten with their Aunt Skyler, whom we met for the first time while we were down there. Judging by all the time she spent coloring and playing games and generally appreciating their senses of humor, the feeling seemed to be mutual.

We picnicked at the local city park and at the state park 45 minutes from their house.

Grandpa was dogpiled every day after work.

We watched movies, played outside, rediscovered Chik-fil-A, went for a hike, played Disney Scene It, reorganized the kitchen, stayed up way too late every night, and ate delicious food.

This is the end of this post, but I have many more pictures to dump . . . so stay tuned.

P.S. Are you jealous that my black tooth is turning black again?

Tales from the Road

2011-03-08T14:09:00.004-06:00

This is us on our way to SLC from Anaheim. Robert's amazing older brother lent us his humongoid car so that we could drive together from Sara's place. Robert and Ryan are in the front. Creed loved his spot, he kept calling it his mancave.

This is what Creed looked like when we pulled into the McDonald's parking lot in Lehi. He was sound asleep underneath all his stuff.

The texting conversation that brought Dallas to Lehi from Bountiful went something like this:

Dallas: How is the trip going?

Me: Great!

Dallas: Will we see you?

Me: I don't know. We have to drive up to Sara's, drop a few people off, then drive down to Earl's to get our car and then back to Sara's. It will probably be pretty late by then.

Dallas: How can I help eliminate some of the backtracking?

Me: Really? Want to meet us in Lehi and take a few of us to Clearfield?

Dallas: I'll bring the van and meet you there!

Me: We are about two hours away. Bob says we could ride someone on the floor from Lehi if you change your mind.

Dallas: Heck no! I don't want to miss the party!

And with that last statement, I knew that somewhere up the family tree we must be related. We met at the Lehi Roller Mills exit, aka the Footloose exit and it was the Smith's to the rescue again. Dallas is Kate's brother and Doug's son. The Kate and Doug who met us at Disney.

Shout out: Dallas is also our accountant and he can do your taxes no matter where you live. You should use him. He always has to redo people's past taxes when they went to H&R Block or people who come to him who have been doing their own. Translated: He gets them MORE MONEY! His office is called Redwood Tax.

Sara, Jack and I went with Dallas. We stopped at his house and lucky for us Vinny and Shannon were still up. Shannon is my friend with whom I spent a long weekend in Chicago a few years ago. I am so lucky to know the Smiths and I'm beyond happy that Dallas and Robert are friends.

Side note: One time Doug helped me get my wedding ring out of the pawn shop when I had sold it to buy groceries during medical school.

Did you think I was kidding about the bread?

And here Sara models her amazing new knife.

Tip: don't buy junky knives. Good knives in the kitchen can make all the difference. All you need is one great Chef's knife and a paring knife. You can add a bread knife if you make/buy a lot of bread that needs to be sliced. Also, hone your knives every time you use them and have them professionally sharpened once a year. Bob thinks we also need steak knives.

Gandalf! Mountains!

I-80 Sunset

My mom came to see us last week, and I took a few pictures. The photo-dump marathon is still not over.

Question: Why are several of my photographs not showing up in my archives? I noticed as I went back to link to older posts that many of my iPhotos are missing. Any insight?

Magic Kingdom Fun

2011-03-07T15:06:00.005-06:00

We packed our kids in the car and headed to California a week ago, via Salt Lake City.

Who doesn't want to escape the subzero temperatures of February and visit someplace warm and sunny?

In Salt Lake, we checked in on Robert's family and swapped cars with his brother. They have 13 children. That's not a typo: 13! Earl and Tifiny were kind enough to lend us their 11 passenger vehicle so that we could drive down to California in the same car as Sara and Ryan and Grant.

Then Ryan drove us all the way there because we had just driven 18 hours in one day.

We spent three days with Mickey and in those three days we . . .

. . . rode Space Mountain 5 or 6 times (but accidentally ditched my mom so she didn't get to ride it at all. I still feel bad about that.) . . .

. . . Astro Blasted Zurg and his minions several times . . .

. . . met up with Scott and Eddie and tried mint juleps (you can keep your nasty toothpaste water. yuck!) . . .

. . . rode the Matterhorn several times . . .

. . . spun around on the Tea Cups . . .

. . . goofed on all things Disney . . .

. . . met Mary Poppins and Burt (she and Winnie the Pooh are among my favorites) . . .

. . . celebrated Creed's birthday . . .

. . . met up with Kate & Doug (who drove up from San Diego after the BYU game) and my mom (how is this the only picture I have of you, mom? Maybe there are more on my camera, these are just from my phone) . . .

. . . and had an all around Magical Time.

The following is mostly for me, but feel free to peek. It's my lazy way of remembering the details:

1. Who are we kidding? The whole thing is for me (and my progeny).

2. George and I rode the Astro Orbiter together. In the middle of the ride he tilted his head back and told me "Mom, dis wocket wide is dumb."

3. February is the month to visit Mickey. We didn't wait longer than 25 minutes for a single ride. Not even the submarine. There is something to be said, however, about visiting during Christmas time and seeing the Haunted Mansion all decked out Tim Burton style.

4. It's a Small World is not as painful as I remember. I quite enjoyed it.

5. I downloaded an app while I was there that told me the wait times for all the rides in the park. I loved it.

6. The app also had all the Hidden Mickeys arranged in a checklist format. The kids had a great time hunting for them.

7. I became thoroughly annoyed by the stupid Hidden Mickey scavenger hunt. (The kids were clueless about my annoyance. Like all good moms, I kept it to myself and continued to help them enjoy themselves.)

8. World of Color in California Adventure is pretty cool. We were in the very front and we got drenched! Luckily we had ponchos. My favorite part of the show was the montage of the disney cartoon moms snuggling their disney cartoon babies.

9. This was our first multi-day visit. I loved it!

10. This was also the first time we bought any food in the park. (Aside from our usual purchase of Bacon Wrapped Asparagus at the Bengal Bar-b-que.) Of course, we still packed plenty of peanut butter sandwiches because food in the park is expensive and Jack is a bottomless pit.

11. Stella had no desire to meet princesses. Instead, she wanted to meet the classic characters: Mickey, Goofy, and Pluto.

12. George met Buzz Lightyear, but had no desire to interact with him or get close to him.

13. Creed celebrated his 10th birthday at the park and wore a button all day to proclaim it to the world. Everywhere he went, people were wishing him a happy birthday.

14. After every ride, Grant had a single word "fun!"

15. Pretty much every ride scared George.

16. Both George and Grant were tall enough to ride the Matterhorn.

17. By the time Stella was George's age, she had been to Disneyland 3 times!

18. Kate, Doug, and my mom took the kids back to the hotel early the last night because it was FREEZING.

18. Kate also came to the rescue with extra clothes from her car for everyone.

19. I wish I had taken better notes, it was such a fun time! Ryan, George, Grant, and Eddie were the first timers. Scott hadn't been since he was maybe 5 years old? It had been almost four years since the rest of us had been (except my mom and the smith's. My mom hadn't been since Scott was there last and the Smith's were there the week before.)

20. It was a surprise! We woke the kids at 3 in the morning on Monday night and after they got in the car we told them where we were headed.

We are a car-tripping family. The kids feel like the vacation starts as soon as we are in the car headed someplace, so even though we spent 5 days in the car for 3 days at Disney, they loved it. I, on the other hand, would love to pay down some of our student loans so that we can fly. The road trip itself deserves its own post. Don't worry Dallas, you're in it!

P.S. Disneyland really is a magic kingdom because as we were in line to ride Alice in Wonderland, Robert pointed to someone in line ahead of us and said "That's got to be Tyler's Twin." And sure enough it was! It is totally weird running into the Twin Brother of someone you know. He was just as friendly as the real Tyler. It really is a Small World After All.

A Perfect Sunday

2011-02-14T19:53:00.008-06:00

Good food, good friends, good music.

I called Sara the night this happened. She participated over the phone for a moment, but mostly she (and I) just wished she were here.

As luck would have it, when Sara was here last month, the Hancocks and the Slusinskis were ready for an encore.

It was nothing like the time when I was little and my friends and I played Battlecats for an entire day and it was awesome but then when we tried to play again the next day it wasn't so great.

This sing-a-long was even better the second time around.

We started out with Les Miserables which takes place in France, so Sara and I whipped up a boeuf bourguignon for dinner. If you haven't tasted boeuf bourguignon, then I feel sorry for you. We made it twice while she was here.

There is no video of the Les Mis portion of the evening, but we learned that Pete's favorite musical is Grease. Who would have known that Pete even had a favorite musical? I love it when people surprise me.

I hope you are smiling after you watch these home movies. They make me smile every time.

Watch Jackie on the far left, especially in the second clip. She keeps singing to Pete and it's melting my heart.

I love that the technical difficulties don't deter Sara from singing. The Show Must Go On, right sis?

It's so great that the girls move so that they are sure to get a better spot on camera. I would have done that at their age. I would probably do that at my age. Grant is hilarious here. Throughout the clip he desperately wants to dance with the girls and finally he just joins them.

We sang and sang. It was pure magic. It reminded me of Sundays at my Auntie Kim's house.

When we finally got around to singing Seasons of Love from Rent it was after 11:00. That was the song we sang to close up last time, too. I love everything about this clip. Even in the moment it was recorded, I felt completely sappy.

My life is full of Love.

If I'm headed for Heaven, I really hope they have show tunes.

No Thank You

2011-02-11T11:03:00.003-06:00

Hoodie Footies? Um, No thank you. I can't think of much that would make me feel less cute.

Strange pillows/pillowcases. Is that a cute drawing of a boy and a girl sending love messages to each other with old fashioned tin can telephones? Sure. Do I think it would be weird to sleep on that message? You betcha. Do I need a fake hug when you aren't in bed next to me? No way, I want to spread out and hog the whole bed, thankyouverymuch.

Other no no's include:

framed sexy photos of you scantily clad with a rose in your teeth~even as a joke it would be weird.
all forms of stuffed animal~I'm not eleven.
anything that resembles extravagant, over the top planning and execution. I can't handle the pressure of reacting to that kind of an effort.

I think we should buy a box of candy together and share it with the kids because let's be honest, being married to you makes every day feel like Valentine's Day.

File this under D, for Don't tell the Kids

2011-02-10T09:07:00.008-06:00

I encourage my kids to tell me what they dream about at night because I feel like it hones their storytelling skills. It seems to nurture their creativity and gives them a safe environment to talk about intense experiences.

I confess, though, I don't enjoy the "guess what I dreamed last night" conversation. It is a rare dream that I actually want to hear about. I fake my enthusiasm and interest in their dreams for their sake. What kid doesn't love telling their mom about their dream? What kind of a mother would I be if I said "Ugh, another dream. Fine, let's hear it?" Instead, I suck it up and encourage that blasted creative streak they all have.

I'm a giver.

Last night I dreamed that CJane was at my house which is not fair. Christie dreams that she's making out with Ben Affleck and I dream about random bloggers visiting me. Lame.

What's worse is that CJane was not enjoying her stay. She kept taking photographs of the messes.

Also, I was desperate to introduce her to my mother, who was also at my house. I was chasing CJane around the kitchen and dining room with my mom in tow and when I finally managed the introduction CJane looked at me and said "That was weird."

Then she took a picture of my mudroom and left.

I spent a large portion of my day yesterday catching up on the blogs in my google reader and I didn't do much housework.

Too bad Courtney didn't send Javier Bardem over after she left. Ooo la la.

Of course, he might have shown up as Anton Chigurh and that would be all kinds of not fun.

Some day, when my great great great grand daughter is doing her genealogy and she finds granny's blog she is going to ask "Who is CJane? Who is Javier Bardem? Who is Anton Chigurh? Who is Ben Affleck?" Darling, you don't need to worry about any of those people. They are of no consequence. Christie, however, is our cousin on my mom's side and when you are sick of reading my journals go find hers. They are highly entertaining. Kisses from the olden days!

Poetry Love

2011-02-08T15:30:00.002-06:00

I invited Stella to snuggle in my bed with me for a few moments before she was sent to her own room for the night. She came in carrying our copy of A Child's Book of Poems illustrated by Gyo Fujikawa.

"I thought we could read this together. I know it's one of your favorites."

She nestled in to the space between my arms and my waist. We rested the book on our knees as we thumbed through its pages picking out our favorite verses to read aloud. I read each poem first, then she read it.

Is there anything more magical than hearing a child read words penned by Tennyson, Wordsworth, Stevenson, Longfellow and Dickinson?

I think not.

I LOVE Spending time with my Sister

2011-02-07T14:31:00.004-06:00

"Why would ANYONE live in Iowa?" she asked as we met up in the sub zero temperatures outside the Des Moines airport.

"G-g-g-good q-q-question," I replied as we loaded her things into the car.

"You should have told me to bring Little Nicky, Liz. It's freezing here."

She was right. Little Nicky is what we call her ankle length puffy down coat and she desperately needed that thing while she was here.

Oh, well. She was here, even if she was cold.

The first night she was here, we went to the movies. It was a Tuesday, so we had to take advantage of Stimulus Tuesday. Of course, the popcorn was to be our dinner, so we had to skip the dollar bag and go for the big one. I don't know what people do who don't go to the movies. We saw Country Strong and it was exactly what we expected.

Sara was a good luck charm during the month of January. Everywhere we went, we had great parking. It was magical. I took her to the mall on a Friday night and introduced her to the phenomenon of the Junior High School Students who Hang Out at The Mall.
Here is a terrible picture of Grant and me on my bed. Not a terrible picture of Grant. Just a bad photo.
This is what Sara looks like when she travels with Grant. The carseat is hooked to her backpack with a carabiner. You should know that Sara never stops smiling. She is the happiest, most optimistic person I know.

I didn't tell you about the guy that wanted to fight Robert at the gas station while she was here, the copious amount of calories and fat that was cooked and consumed, and the laundry that didn't even get a glance for two weeks.

Seriously, she saved January.

Guess Who's Coming to Play

2011-01-11T11:06:00.005-06:00

The next two weeks are going to be full of all kinds of fun.

We may spend a few days in our pajamas.

There will be lots of cooking and baking and eating.

We will exchange the latest recipes we have discovered and try some new ones.

My kids will overwhelm her with requests to: listen to my song, or come see my room, or play a game with me, or read a book to me.

I might try to talk her into helping me paint my hallway (she won't want to do it), I will try to get her to help me finish this other thing I'm working on.

She will most likely help me fold some laundry.

There will be gossip, not the malicious kind, the informative kind.

I predict an encore of our Les Mis sing along.

She won't love the dog, but she'll tolerate her. Sara hates dogs.

I will spend ample energy and time hugging and kissing and smooshing her little boy . . . all that blonde fluff . . .

We will dream of the day that we live just down the road from each other.

We will watch movies and stay up (not too) late.

When she leaves, I will feel refreshed, loved, full.

The First Two Weeks

2011-01-06T10:01:00.003-06:00

We waited until the right time to add a furry friend to our family. I don't have any little babies and three of the four kids are old enough to help significantly with the various tasks of taking her outside, feeding her, refreshing her water and whatever else might come up.

Creed cleans up the mess she makes in the backyard with a smile.

She snuggles with Stella on the floor.

She likes to get a head start on projects, like taking down the Christmas tree.

She gets everyone outside and playing together for hours at a time in the middle of winter.

We love Ginger.

2010: A List

2011-01-01T11:21:00.004-06:00

The Highs:

After years and years and years of sacrifice, Robert finished his Residency and took a job here in Des Moines.
We have amazing local friends who recognized the significance of the above event and the fact that we might be feeling lonely with no family around with whom to celebrate and surprised us with a steak dinner. Having friends that celebrate your triumphs is a true blessing.
Jack is now old enough to be left in charge for short periods of time.
Robert and I dated each other more this year than we have in a long, long time.
Hot Chocolate for Haiti was a huge success. The kids raised over $200 from generous friends, neighbors, and church members (including the Mons kids' piggy bank) and donated it to the Red Cross. They had their picture in the Red Cross Newsletter and were hailed local heroes. I don't know any other kids who devise and execute plans like that. They teach me so much every day.
The boys are doing their own laundry which means that instead of announcing to me that they have no clean socks, they blame each other when their socks run low. That's okay with me, because guess what! I don't have to do their laundry anymore.
Everyone is participating more in all household duties, so I (mostly) don't feel so overwhelmed.
Stella began taking piano lessons, Creed continues to study piano, and Jack started taking guitar lessons. They all performed in our Christmas Eve talent show. Creed's talent wasn't actually musical. His talent was "Beating My Crocodile Senseless."
Jack and Creed both continue to be active in Scouts. Jack earned his Arrow of Light and Crossed Over from Cub Scouts into Boy Scouts. His Scoutmaster is an inspiration. Creed is a Bear Scout for another two months.
Stella is still a little ballerina. Her life motto seems to be "Why walk when you can dance?"
My mom married a wonderful man with an incredible family. He flew us all to Seattle so that we could participate in the celebrations.
I gave my first Wedding Toast.
We got a Dog!
My brother, Elder Scott Wait completed his mission and came to spend a few days with us.
Many of our Iowa friendships were fortified with lots of fun time together.
Our family relationships were fortified with lots of time together.
Our front room was only one color during 2010 . . . and . . . I don't anticipate changing it during 2011.
We are honored to have a close family member serving in the military in the Middle East.

The Lows:

Lolo was diagnosed withr Cancer (but he keeps defying the odds!)
Great Grandma Rose passed away. I need to write about her, she was an amazing woman.
I consumed significantly more calories than I burned this year.
Although we travelled over 30,000 miles all over the country from one coast to the other, we spent zero time on any beach anywhere.
I still haven't met any of my dad's wife's kids.
Eddie moved away.
Our hamster, Guilty Spark, died. We held an intimate memorial service in the backyard.
We all had moments of loneliness or hurt feelings at one time or another this year, and we tended to blame it on the fact that we live in Iowa instead of Utah. Lame and unfair, I know.
Although we took many trips to Utah in 2010, we didn't get to spend much time with friends. I miss everyone so much.
We read fewer books together as a family this year than we have in any previous year.
We have a close family member deployed in the Middle East away from his wife and child.

The In-Betweens:

We have cell phones.
We are keeping cleaner bedrooms.
We started repaying student loans.
We installed hardwood floors.

Advent(ures) By Candlelight

2010-12-21T21:23:00.007-06:00

On any given night this December, it would have been easy to catch our family gathered around open flames and reading Christmas themed books.

I had the bright idea that we should wrap all of our Christmas books in festive wrapping and give the honor of selecting which one to open and read by candlelight to a different child every night.
We have coupled our literary adventures with hot cocoa and when it's too hot to handle, we sip it through a straw.
One night, somebody threw a tantrum and everyone was fighting when we began. It was the night we had to choose two books because the night before we had skipped reading to go and pick out a puppy.*
When we started it felt like we were fighters between rounds nursing our wounds in our separate corners waiting for the next round to start. With the magic of family dynamics, though, glares turned quickly to smiles and grumbling turned into giggling as Robert read The Nutcracker with silly voices and exotic accents. When I finished up with Let Me Hold You Longer we were all in tears again hugging and kissing each other goodnight.
Reading books together by candlelight: its a Good Thing. (but catching your hair on fire is a very, very bad thing, Stella!!!)

*Yes, we are getting a puppy! She is coming home tomorrow. Pictures coming soon.

On Christmas Gifts

2010-12-17T13:27:00.005-06:00

I'm going to go on record as being in favor of giving gifts at Christmas time.

There, I said it.

I like it, dammit. I like giving gifts and I also like receiving them.

I like everything about gift giving:

making a list of the people to whom I would like to give a gift
thinking about those people and how much I love them and . . .
. . . why I am so thankful for their influence and presence in my life
crossing those names and gifts off my list as I count down the weeks and days to Christmas
second guessing every single gift I buy or make "Does this item truly show this person that I was thinking about them, and that I love them, and appreciate them?"
wrapping the gifts. My rule: a maximum of three pieces of tape per gift.
talking to my sister about what I made or bought, laughing at some of the silly ideas I come up with for people
going to the post office to ship my packages
knowing that I expressed my appreciation and affection for my family during the holidays, because if I can't be bothered to do it during the Holiday Season, then I'm probably falling short during the rest of the year as well.

Examples of gifts that Robert and I have given our families in (leaner) years past:

homemade pajama pants (made from repurposed sheets from the thrift store) that we finished at 3 in the morning on Christmas Eve
a box of homemade caramels
Nerf Guns: always a HUGE hit
scrubs that we got from the hospital where Robert was doing rotations
cardboard cutouts of photos of family members that we turned into magnets
free tee shirts that we won in raffles and saved to give away as gifts (so what if they had the VISA logo on them? We were poor, but we still loved our family!)
Speaking of poor, once we gave our kids a box full of paper airplanes for Christmas that we folded out of red and green and white paper. They LOVED it, they felt loved.
freebies from drug reps
coupon books
movies
prizes that we won in radio contests
homemade stepping stones for the garden
photographs
homemade toys

Maybe our family members were secretly hoping that they wouldn't be burdened with one of our gifts, but with each gift our message was meant to be "I love you. I appreciate you. I hope your Christmas is Merry."

When Robert was in school, I tried not to wear my poverty on my sleeve, like a badge. Every day I knew that I was making a choice to live a certain type of lifestyle. As Dave Ramsey says, "I was living like no one else so that some day I could Live Like No One Else." For most of our marriage, our Christmas budget has been between $50 and $100 each year. That money was stretched to provide Christmas for each other, our kids, and our extended family. We have been blessed with a generous family (Sara and grandparents, in particular) who understood that we were sacrificing for the long term goal of graduating from Medical School, and eagerly filled in the gaps of our kids' Christmas mornings. One year, Creed had his heart set on receiving a Shell Shocker. He received one from his Aunt Sara and his heart is still full of gratitude for that gift six years later. So is mine.

Usually Robert and I have skipped giving each other anything more than a love letter or another small token of our undying love for each other. Once, Robert drew a picture of Jack for me and another time I knitted him a black beanie that was too small and ended up on Eddie's head.

Gifts are part of the magic of Christmas. I remember sitting at my grandma's house on Christmas when I was little and being handed a gift that was just for me. Me! Out of 40 or more cousins, someone had remembered me! Those gifts were never extravagant, but always thoughtful.

Giving gifts is one of my most treasured holiday traditions. I also make gingerbread houses, decorate a tree, sing carols, give service, gather together with loved ones, have a nativity, and eat good food. Gift giving shouldn't be the high point of one's celebration, but I firmly believe it needs to be a part of one's Christmas season. One can indulge in this tradition without getting caught up in the commercialism of the holiday. One can indulge in this tradition without breaking their bank. One can indulge in this tradition without being materialistic or selfish or greedy.

Besides, I'm not about to argue with a bunch of Wise Men from the East.

Not Meant for Human Consumption

2010-12-10T15:08:00.003-06:00

Gingerbread Houses 2010

Number of houses made this year: 16, I think, not all by me. I made only one.

Number of Icing Batches: 20?

Number of broken pieces glued back together: at least 4 (one house ended up being supported with cardboard glued to the inside of it.)

Number of Kids underfoot: ZERO (we made them on a Friday night without kids. That was genius.)

Number of years in a row I've been involved in Gingerbread making: 28

Gingerbread Houses with Stained Glass Windows is the longest running tradition I have. Besides my tradition of General Laziness.

I have absolutely nothing at all going on this time of year. In fact, this is the time of year that I have a lot more Nothing to Do than usual, so I say to myself: Self! Build a gingerbread house. From scratch. With stained glass windows.

And I do it.

Do You Hear the People Sing?

2010-11-22T09:13:00.003-06:00

Sunday afternoon karaoke with my sister is pure joy. This video is from two weeks ago. Note that we are sharing a snuggie and singing into roses made out of duct tape.

And this afternoon I discovered Broadway aficionados in a couple of my other friends. We sang every word on the first disc of my Les Mis album plus "A Little Fall of Rain" and the finale on the second. Levi and Amanda know every word, hit every note, and don't miss a single cue. Robert and Jackie took some help from the printed lyrics. (I confess it has been awhile since I sat down with the booklet and sang along with Valjean, Cosette, and the others, so I had to peek over their shoulders now and again.)

YouTube Video

Then we moved on to selections from RENT and ended with the Hallelujah Chorus from Handel's Messiah.

Robert must be curious about the storyline between Javert and Valjean, because he is now watching Hollywood's version of Les Miserables starring Geoffrey Rush and Liam Neeson.

It's a Good Idea to Keep a Blanket In Your Car

2010-11-01T03:18:00.001-05:00

First of all, thank you to all of you who have expresses love and support and solidarity regarding my husband's father. It means so much to both of us right now. We decided to come to Utah and spend a few days with our family, and it has been wonderful.

We left on Friday after work and relived last year's Christmas dinner at the Quik Trip on our way out of town.

We drove all night and after a pit stop in Park City to freshen up and say "hey" to my mom and Jim, we came to Bob's sister's house and finished up the boys' Halloween costumes. They were Vikings, and Stella and George were dragons. Trick or treating with cousins beats trick or treating without, no contest.

Today I caught up with my punk brother and rubbed my knuckles on his head.

Stella did her best to remind him why he moved out in the first place.

Now, however, after a series of unfortunate events, we are locked out of the house at two in the morning. Nobody will wake up. We have called and rung the bell, they are all exhausted. Our only option is to sleep in the car. In the time it took me to type this, George and Robert have passed out. I think I'll join them.

Nighty Night!

2010-10-29T15:59:00.008-05:00

It's funny what a cancer diagnosis does to a family, a relationship, an individual. We hear the word "CANCER" and it scares the tar out of us. We all want Information and as terms like A.L.L. and Chemotherapy and Gleevek worm their way into daily conversations we start playing a numbers game. "If the cancer has been growing for this long and it takes one treatment to go into remission, that buys us X number of units of time." Then BOOM! The treatment actually works, and it goes into remission and Dad still feels crummy but we gave him enough of the poison to kill the cancer! AND he survived a ruptured spleen! Things are looking up.

And the next time I see him, he looks great. I latch on to the fact that he's riding his stationary bike regularly and he feels good enough to be requesting that I go on Pepsi runs. He rolls his eyes at the silly things his grandkids are doing. They sneak his treats every now and again, and (I suspect) they are sneaking sips of his Soda, too. Things almost feel normal. almost.

On our way home, we say things like "That is so great, he's riding that bike every day. And every day he rides a little more." "Not to mention the fact that he's eating again. He looks so much better." Mostly it's me saying these things. Robert, who carries the burden of too much knowledge and first hand experience in this sort of thing, just nods and mutters the occasional "Mm-hmm. He looks a lot better." I ignore his lack of contributions to the conversation. I'm tempted to ask him what he really thinks, but I'm not sure I want to know.

Months later, the words Relapse and Hospice and Could Buy Him A Few More Weeks enter the conversation and they feel like nuclear bombs. All of a sudden, I feel this sense of urgency. Someone needs to set up a video camera and record Dad. Right Now. I want to hear about his happiest memories. I want to hear about the times he was afraid, or lonely. I want to hear him talk about cars, and his siblings, and his mother. Has he ever tried anything and failed? What were his childhood dreams? I'm angry that we didn't get an oral history from him when he was healthy. I'm angry that my kids haven't had enough face time with their Grandpa and I'm jealous of those grandkids who have spent their whole lives with him. I'm angry that we live over 1,000 miles away from our family. I'm angry that I am so useless. Honestly, right now I can't remember why we live in Iowa. Mom's lifelong dream of all of her children living on a compound with her is suddenly very appealing.

And when did I start calling them Mom and Dad?

We Skype. I'm thinking "Why haven't we been Skype-ing every single day?" I always think that when we Skype. If I could have an endless supply of anything I wanted, it would be time with my family. (I'm one of those people who generally likes people a lot more than they like me.) And there everyone is. There is probably rice in the rice cooker, and in the fridge there is something yummy (probably made of cabbage and pork and garlic and fish sauce) to put on the rice. April made steak. Mom and Dad are snuggling on the couch, I can hear Diana and Tifiny's voices being broadcast from separate computers. Paul puts our computer on the floor, so for a moment all we can see is feet and Dad's walker. Every now and then Amy enters the frame holding a child to her chest. Karen introduces us to Peyton the Edible. We have gathered to have a Serious Discussion Regarding Dad's Choices. It's the quietest I have ever heard the family. Robert turns to me and says, so that only I can hear him "This is really uncomfortable." All I can do nod. I hold his hand. And what's wrong with me? I can't stop crying.

Before I know it, I'm watching my nephews perform acrobatics across the living room. George is franticly hollering "Hi KayKay! Hi Lolo! Iwuvyou!" I swear, I can almost smell the rice. I know exactly what it feels like to sit on that couch. I know what it feels like to share it with seven or eight people wedged in like a can of sardines and nobody wants to get up, because we are actually all pretty comfortable. I miss that. Robert starts playing around with the photo effects on his computer and soon he and April and Paul and Karen have each other in stitches. I can hear April crying behind her laughter. The filters on her computer program are making her look RIDICULOUS. When Robert decides it's time to sign off, I'm not ready. I make him leave it on for another hour. I haven't had enough time yet.

And that's just it. There's no such thing as Quality Time. Quality Time is a myth. Someone made it up who knew they weren't spending enough time doing the things they love with the people they love. The only Quality Time is Quantity Time.

I haven't had enough time. None of us have.

Three Weeks

2010-09-27T21:12:00.003-05:00

Twenty one days. That, apparently, is my limit for daily blogging. September being a month of new beginnings, I thought it would be appropriate to attempt to establish some habits. What can I say? I'm a goal setter

As the September days wore on, and I started resorting to telling old stories, I discovered the reason behind my general inability to generate blog fodder on a daily basis. I lead a pretty dull life. I'm not bored, by any means, but the whole send-kids-to-school,-go-to-the-library,-fold-laundry,-what's-for-dinner storyline isn't all that interesting to write, or to read. It's not like I'm raising chickens. Now that's fascinating stuff, so c'mon Pheobe and Laura, gimme the goods.

What's next? Funny you should ask. In the interest of generating blog fodder, I'm ready to conduct an experiment of my own. It involves you, my readers. All eight of you. I invite you to give me something to do. It could be anything you want, except go on a road trip. I'm all road tripped out for awhile. (FYI, anything over 2 1/2 hours is a road trip.) I'll do it. And I'll write about it. Maybe even photograph it.

I guess saying "it could be anything you want" is a little misleading. I'm not going to start raising chickens or mooing in the middle of Yoga or selling Mary Kay because you suggested I do so. But I might, I don't know, try a new restaurant, or something like that. See? I am boring. I can't think of anything to do that would be worth writing about. Maybe there is something you have always wanted to try and you want me to do it first. Or maybe there is something you just wish I would do, like get some of your photos to you before pigs start flying.

I won't compromise my morals and I won't be mean to anyone. On purpose. (Today the girl who made the better than sex cake for that funeral told me she had read my blog. I feel really dumb. I hope it wasn't mean to write about it. She didn't divulge her opinion about the originator of the cake's name, and you'd better believe I didn't ask.)

So welcome to my own personal game of Truth or Dare. Challenge me and give me something to say.

Or don't. Whatever.

Thanks for reading.

21

2010-09-22T00:06:00.002-05:00

On the topic of awkward conversations:

Have you had this cake that's been making the rounds of church functions and school picnics for a few years?

It's a cake from a box drizzled with sweetened condensed milk frosted with cool whip and topped with heath bar.

I like sweetened condensed milk and I love finding good uses for a heath bar, but you lost me at box cake and cool whip. Give me heavy whipping cream or give me nothing!

Someone had the audacity to name this cake "Better than Sex Cake."

Seriously? I mean, seriously?

{cut to this scene from awhile back:}

I'm in the church gym just after a funeral service and my bishop (a.k.a. ecclesiastical leader, spiritual guide for you muggles. Ha! As if anyone reads this who either a: isn't related to me or b: doesn't go to church with me or c: isn't Sissy) so he comes up to me while I'm dishing myself up a big piece of this cake, which I'm making fun of here, but I'm not going to deny myself a slice when it's being served at a funeral mostly because, hey! it's cake! and I say to him (and here's the climax of my story) "Boy, I feel bad for the poor woman who named this cake!"

My cake tasted a lot like foot that day, but for goodness' sake, I certainly hope you have had the same thought.

And now for the denouement:

I saw Easy A tonight. I LOVED IT! One of my mom's catch phrases when we were young was "ooooh, let's not and say we did." It reminded me of Gilmore Girls and Mean Girls and I'm now ready to have all the girls over to watch Say Anything and Sixteen Candles.

I think I'll stick with Tres Leches cake for refreshments, though.

20

2010-09-20T23:07:00.001-05:00

Today is Monday.

Can't trust that day.

I woke up with two new zits. One of them was right on the edge of my lip. You know the spot. That spot where it is super painful to have a zit.

On the plus side, I had a pretty good hair day.

The only housework I did today was to load the breakfast dishes into the dishwasher. I'm a lousy housekeeper. "and Ann B. Davis as Alice."

The morning was spent taking King George to various activities; Mommy and Me Music at a local church and Mother Goose time at the library. He's warming up to the experience. Music time was in a large gym, and we were told in no uncertain terms that it is against the rules to run around in there.

It's hard to stop a two year old from running around a wide open space.

Sara is coming in January! Hooray! I need to call my mom and get her to come for one of the weekends. We are already thinking about Nan's Nummies brownies.

Ugh. Sara's not coming until January. She will be my ray of sunshine to brighten a bleak, cold winter.

Stella has moved up to the barre in ballet.

The door stays open for the first half of class, so we can watch if we want.

I left my book (the one I stayed up until 4 a.m. reading on Saturday night) at the ballet school.

Also, she now needs a black leotard.

Right now Sara is comparing her career as a ballerina to Stella's. In her mind she is comparing an old photo of herself in ballet class to these photos of the Princess.

And that was Monday.

Thanks for reading!

19

2010-09-19T21:41:00.001-05:00

The one where I bear my soul.

I may have ADD.

This is what my list looks like today.

1. Hike Havasu Pi with my family

2. Finish school

3. Complete a marathon, eh, or not

4. Have a thoughtfully decorated home

5. Put pen to paper and write My Story

6. Pay off Robert's student loan debts

7. Make myself useful

8. Maintain a compost heap complete with red wrigglers and kitchen scraps

9. Learn to quilt/finish a quilt

10. Convince Sara that we should have a "Sisters Weekend" tradition

11. Achieve fluency in a foreign language

12. Celebrate my 50th wedding anniversary

13. Canoe the Boundary Waters with my family

14. Learn to play an instrument

15. Take singing lessons

16. Become SCUBA certified

17. Witness a solar eclipse

18. Go to Macchu Picchu, Peru

19. Visit the Coliseum in Rome

20. Visit all 49 of the 50 United States, I'm not sure I need to see Alabama

21. Visit all 7 continents

22. Beat someone (anyone!) at Chess

23. Participate in building a Habitat for Humanity home

34. Establish a scholarship fund for students with families

35. Use my reusable grocery sacks

36. Drive less/walk and bike more

37. Have bidets in my home

38. Value people and experiences more than things

39. Make a documentary film

40. Learn a language other than English

41. Inspire others

42. Six pack abs, defined calves

43. Find the perfect shade of lipstick

44. After I've done #42, sit on a beach somewhere, sipping a drink with a little umbrella.

45. Send out Christmas Cards

Robert is sitting next to me and looking over my shoulder. He offered to help me with #7, and told me to go get him a soda. He's so thoughtful.

What does your list look like?

18

2010-09-19T21:03:00.003-05:00

The Butterfly Bush has been earning its keep. Walking up to my front door in the afternoon, I feel like I live in an enchanted cottage in the woods.

I wish I knew the right tune to sing to motivate the woodland creatures to help me with my housework, because "Somebody get in here and clean up this mess!" doesn't seem to be working. Neither does "So help me, if I have to pick up four kids' soaking wet clothes off the bathroom floor one more time, I'm going to LOSE IT!"

I don't actually yell at them. It's fun to pretend I'm a shrill and angry mother for dramatic effect.

17

2010-09-17T23:22:00.003-05:00

Other stops on our Tour of D.C., which I photographed on my phone, included:

The National Museum of Health and Medicine, located way off the beaten path on the grounds of the Walter Reed Army Medical Center. I thought it was totally worth the 30 minute bus ride we took to get there.

That sounded a bit sarcastic, but I was sincere. The NMHM was unlike any other place we went in D.C.

Jack holding a plastinated human heart

Stella holding a plastinated human brain

Look closely, this is a bezoar that was removed from a young girl who ate her hair. A few days after we saw this, Stella announced "Mom, since we saw that bezoar I have not chewed on my hair even once."

Pictured behind the kids in this photo is a megacolon. It was removed from a man in his early twenties whose chief complaint was chronic constipation. I love my metamucil.

The National Geographic museum had an amazing exhibit about Leonardo DaVinci. They had taken sketches and plans from his journals and built his machines. Many of them were things we were allowed to operate.

Chinatown.

This is $1,000,000 in ten dollar notes.

Museum of Natural History

We were lucky to have my dad's wife, Nana Sue, join us during the first two days of our trip. We bought tickets to tour the city on the double decker bus during those two days and after that we took the subway all over town. We had a great time!

Come to think of it, we have Nana Sue to thank for our recent obsession with squid legs and Thai Food.

Mmmm.

16

2010-09-16T21:57:00.009-05:00

By the time we made it to Washington D.C. in July, we had paid more than $60 in tolls, we had driven for more than 20 hours, and we had listened to Jim Dale tell us the tale of Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince.

The Pennsylvania Turnpike is expensive! It only costs me, like, $1.80 in tolls to drive to Chicago. Sheesh.

Dad spent all day (from 7am to 6:30pm) every day at the Ritz Carlton for his training course.

In temperatures above 100 degrees, the kids and I took advantage of that time to get out and explore our nation's capital.

Rattling around inside my brain is an abundance of advice about traveling with children. Some day all of that advice may organize itself into a blog entry.

For now, I just have the pictures to prove we were there.

Jack finds the name of Lolo's fallen comrade, James C. Marshall, at The Wall.

Outside the Supreme Court

Riding the Circulator around town.

Hanging out at Union Station

Union Station

I know that a few of these photos could have been taken anywhere, but we really were in D.C. when I took them. D.C., as I said earlier, is also where we discovered our love of Thai food.

Here are the fried squid legs my kids couldn't get enough of.

What? Don't your kids beg you to take them out for fried squid legs every. single. night. when you are on vacation? No? Hmm. That's weird.

We saw so many other things while we were there:

Smithsonian Air and Space Museum

The Mayflower Hotel

Marine Corps Memorial

Lincoln Memorial

Library of Congress, Children's Reading Room

Maybe tomorrow I will post a few more shots from my phone. I didn't always lug the big camera around with me.

I recommend taking your kids to see the Capital City. I don't however, recommend sending them as Tributes!

15

2010-09-16T08:46:00.001-05:00

When water gets in your fertilizer, making it unspreadable, you improvise!

Fourteen

2010-09-14T20:24:00.003-05:00

Tres Leches cake for dessert

Oh you really should have had some. It was delicious. If you are inclined to make one, I suggest Pioneer Woman's recipe.

I think I'd better cut back on my cake consumption. Stella just asked me if I was pregnant, because my belly is so big.

Thirteen

2010-09-14T09:24:00.003-05:00

George loves waving the kids off to school. "Bye guys! Bye guys! Have good day!"

After they are gone, we settle in for some snuggly reading time.

Yesterday he attended his very first library class. I use the library classes to fool the kids into thinking they go to preschool. He was not impressed by the lady or her puppets. He spent the half hour class slumped against me, refusing to participate. Maybe he'll be the one kid that doesn't beg to go to the after school day care when he starts Kindygarten.

Do your kids do that?

After school they are greeted by a mother with arms open wide rejoicing at their return. I exclaim things like "Hooray! You're home! I missed you so much!" (Whether I missed them or not.) Many days I even have, don't laugh, warm cookies and milk waiting for them. Yet all three of them ask me to sign them up for the after school day care programs.

Sometimes I wonder if stay-at-home mothering is really worth the sacrifice.

On Sunday afternoon, the discussion turned to levels of education.

"Dad," Creed asked, "did you finish college?"

"Yeah, Creed. I finished. You attended my graduation."

"Oh yeah! Mom didn't finish, though," Creed continued, smiling at me.

Robert, aware of my feelings on that particular subject, replied, "Rude, Creed. Mom doesn't need you pointing out that she didn't finish college. Yet." Sensitivity to others' feeling is something we are continually working on with Creed.

His face fell and he ran into his room, crying and sobbing.

No matter how strong my sense of longing to finish school is, it is not worth Creed being upset. Of course, Robert followed him into his bedroom.

Moments later, Robert emerged from his talk with our second son a little misty eyed. "You know what he said to me, Liz? He said 'I was just thinking that mom didn't go to school so that she could always be here with us, and I'm glad she didn't go to school. I like being with mom all the time. Other kids have to go to babysitters, and we don't.'"

Well, okay then.

Twelve

2010-09-13T11:54:00.003-05:00

Omaha Zoo Two Weeks Ago

Not pictured: George and Robert.

The male gorilla decided he didn't care for Stella, so he charged the glass where she was standing. It scared the living daylights out of me and it was so loud when he banged on that glass that the whole Primate House went silent for a moment. One minute my baby girl was standing there staring at the baby gorilla and his mama, the next minute she was screaming in terror and reaching for her own mama.

I'm grateful the only wild creatures that attack my kids are, well, each other.

Eleven

2010-09-12T14:51:00.006-05:00

It's easy to write about the things I eat.

Pad Thai from Nut Pob last night:

You should have seen the daggers that shot out of Jackie's eyes when our server told her they were out of peanut sauce for her satay. It was hilarious. The conversation went something like this:
Cute little Laotian/Thai Server who looked like she was about 14 years old, but could have been anywhere between 18 and 52 (damn Asian genetics): I'm sorry ma'am, but we just ran out of peanut sauce.
Jackie (without breaking eye contact):Nope. Uh uh. That's not possible. You cannot be serious.
(Then she turned purple and everyone at the table sucked air in collectively. Because She. Was. Pissed.)
Server (looking down at her hands, afraid to make eye contact):I'm sorry, we are out.
Jackie (as if saying it out loud would make it true):No you're not. That's just not possible.
Server:(Scurries away, mumbling.)
Jackie (hollering after her):This is a Restaurant. When you Run Out Of Something, you MAKE MORE!
She really wanted that peanut sauce.
At this point, I was falling out of my chair leaning away from her trying not to get stung by the daggers she was throwing from her eyes. I tentatively suggested that we could leave and eat someplace else. We were discussing our options when the cute little server returned and announced:
I'm sorry. We have sauce. They just brought in some more.
and the beast inside Jackie was soothed and I decided that maybe I should start saying things out loud like
"I can eat that and actually lose weight.""All the kids' beds will be made this morning.""The laundry will fold itself today.""I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and dog-gonnit, people like me."
The peanut sauce was fantastic.*

It's fun to order Sticky Rice in a restaurant. It comes in its own individual basket, steamed and stickified just for you.

Make sure your hands are clean before you dig in!

Get in touch with your inner play doh child by rolling it into a little ball in the palms of your hands.

Dip the ball in some Angry Chicken or Ginger Pork. Nut Pob doesn't have Massaman Curry on their menu, or else that's what I would have dipped mine in.

And enjoy!

The last time I ate rice like this, I was in the Philippines in my swimsuit using a banana leaf as a plate. Did you know that I used to be an international traveller? Ah, those were the days.

(Are you getting sick of bad photos from my phone yet? They are just so convenient!)
*This story was told with Jackie's permission with the caveat that parts may have been embellished. The only part that I embellished, though, was the part where she yelled after the server. She just said it to those of us at the table in a Very Loud Voice.

Ten(a)

2010-09-10T18:09:00.002-05:00

Puffed Oven Pancake Recipe (For Mae)

EASY!

3 eggs

1/2 cup flour

1/2 cup milk

2T butter

pinch salt

Oven: 425

Put the butter in your pan (for this recipe, an 8x8 square or 8 or 9 inch round) and melt it in the oven while you mix the rest of the ingredients in a bowl. Remove the pan with the melted butter and swirl the butter to coat the bottom of the pan. Pour the batter into the pan and place in the oven. Bake 20-25 minutes until golden and puffy. Serve immediately.

The recipe was doubled for the puffed oven pancake in this photo.

Ten

2010-09-10T09:29:00.001-05:00

She chose this ensemble herself from head to toe. Oh, who am i kidding? She picks out her own clothes every day. She has begun to phase me out and she's only six.

The front of the jacket is ALL SEQUINS. I am in awe/envy of her confidence.

Nine

2010-09-09T23:38:00.001-05:00

One of my favorite double standards: keeping sugar cereals out of our regular diet, but serving puffed oven pancakes with butter syrup for breakfast.

This has been a public service announcement brought to you by the question "What is Liz's belly made of?"

Eight

2010-09-08T21:23:00.001-05:00

Wednesday nights are messing with bedtime. How am I supposed to enforce a 7:30 bedtime when my Boy Scout doesn't get home until 8:20?

9:00 p.m. snapshots:

Stella and Robert get gold stars. He's cleaning up dinner, which we ate at 5:00. Her hair is going to look awesome in the morning. I'm hoping to stay awake till the end of The Bicycle Thief.

Seven

2010-09-07T22:57:00.001-05:00

Stella turned six years old today.

Creed was worried because he hadn't purchased a gift for her with his own money. Instead, he made her a paper airplane and conceived and executed a treasure hunt for her to find it. All the clues began with encouraging phrases like "Good job!" "You're doing great!" and "You're almost there!," written in his sloppy, lovable handwriting.

When we sang to her tonight, Jack said "Wow. Stella, you're lucky. You get two cakes. Guess how many cakes I got. Zero."

We were in D.C. on his birthday. He got to plan the agenda for the entire day. He's right, though. He didn't get a cake.

You can't win 'em all.

Six

2010-09-07T00:35:00.001-05:00

A stop at a random store right on the Arkansas/Missouri border yielded these photos:

It was the rare gas station/liquor store combo. They had aisle after aisle of . . . you guessed it . . .

Jugs of liquor!

We also left the place with a great but sadly unbloggable public restroom story involving funny noises and English accents.

Here is a photo of Stella inside The Jug Store:

She fit in well with the patrons of The Jug Store as you can see in the other pink hat that made an appearance:

Her shoes are not pictured, but like Stella, they match her hat perfectly.

I love road trips.

Five

2010-09-06T08:01:00.003-05:00

One pair of pink cowboy boots, a pink cowboy hat, seventeen books, and (hi dad!) two cds later . . . . and we are headed home.

It makes my dad so happy when I steal his cds. Then he gets to make jokes about frisking me for stolen property on my way out the door. It's one of our things.

He should consider himself lucky that I'm not stealing his Williams Sonoma Ice Cream Cookbook.

Four

2010-09-05T11:40:00.003-05:00

I stayed up till four a.m. playing Puerto Rico.

Then I had a flashback to my childhood when my dad banged on my door at 7:30 telling me to get up and get ready for church.

That's not true about the flashback. I think that was the first time my dad has ever woken me up for church.

Then he threw Ramona under the bus and tried to pin the banging on the door on her.

He used his signature knock, though, so there was no denying who the culprit was.

Hello from Texas. Andrew says "hi."

Ramona is smart. She's studying to be a mechanical engineer. She's also savvy. She pretends that she doesn't know how to play Puerto Rico, then she beats us all.

Here is Ramona taking photographs of the recipes that she wants out of Sue's cookbooks. Don't tell the copyright lawyers. Or Sue.

Three

2010-09-03T16:49:00.004-05:00

Over 9,000 miles logged this summer, and counting

All in the car, from Iowa to Utah, back to Iowa, to Washington D.C., back to Utah and home to Iowa again. I've driven to Nauvoo and back, and also to St. Louis and back.

I wish I lived in the 1950's and I could make a Jell-O mold and throw on some pearls and invite my friends and neighbors over to watch a slide show of my travels narrated by Robert with colorful commentary from yours truly.

Wouldn't that be fun?

Well pull up a lawn chair and make yourself some fondue, because my blog is the next best thing. Here's a virtual slide show of our trip to the lake with Robert's brother and his family during our last visit to Utah.

Bob and Earl

One of the many crawdads my kids caught. They were so disappointed that I didn't fry them up with some butter and garlic and serve them for dinner.

Creed, Jack, Hailey and Rhett, catching crawdads.

Right now my kids are literally waiting in the car for me to finish my post so that we can drive down to Texas. Gotta go!

Two

2010-09-02T10:34:00.004-05:00

It's not Rocket Science

Take three kids,

add a giant cardboard box,

various pots of paint,

on a hot summer day,

mix well,

and Voila!

One

2010-09-01T10:55:00.004-05:00

It is not uncommon for a Sunday dinner to consist of two or three families coming over in the afternoon and combining whatever we have left in our cupboards to form something that resembles a meal. We usually have some kind of dip with chips or veggies. One time the main course was quesadillas. Another time our friends brought steaks for all the adults and the kids had pb&j's. It's casual beyond belief and it works. The women don't spend all of their Sunday afternoons preparing a dish to impress each other while the kids get in their way and the men take a nap.

Last Sunday our meal was hosted by someone else, but the theme was the same. I went out to the garden that I never planted and picked a few acorn squashes. (My volunteer squash patch is pictured above to the right of the shed.) I drizzled them in butter and roasted them in the oven.

At the end of the night, I came home with a tray full of oven roasted acorn squash. I guess other people don't like it as much as I do. They were more likely too busy eating the macaroni and cheese that someone else had provided.

Monday night we had Acorn Squash Stuffed Ravioli for dinner. It was a huge hit and since it was ready in under an hour from start to finish, I'm sharing the recipe here.

You'll Need:

roasted acorn squash (could substitute canned pumpkin)

1/3 cup pine nuts

butter

garlic, minced

onions, diced

a couple of sage leaves, minced

goat cheese

wonton wrappers

chives

chicken broth

parmesan cheese

1. Set oven to 400˚. Put the pine nuts on a cookie sheet and roast for about 4 minutes. I set the timer because I knew I'd burn them. Once they are toasted, remove them from the oven and set them aside. Put the cookie sheet back in the oven to keep it hot.

2. Melt the butter in a saute pan. I used about 1/4 cup. Once melted, add the sage, garlic and the onions. Saute until the onions get soft. About 8 minutes.

3. While the butter melts, start peeling the flesh away from the peel of the roasted squash. I used the two squashes I roasted the night before. Place it all in a blender or food processor and blend until smooth. You may need to add chicken stock or water to help it along.

4. In a bowl combine the butter mixture with the squash mixture and add the goat cheese. I used, maybe, 1/3 cup goat cheese. Smooshing the goat cheese with a fork helps combine it with the squash.

4. Assemble the Raviolis: Working with four wonton wrappers at a time, lay them out flat. Spoon 1-2 teaspoons of the filling onto the middle of each. (This is where George was sooo helpful.) Dip your fingertips into some water and moisten the edges of the wonton wrappers. Place another wrapper on top of each one with the filling and seal the edges.

5. Remove the pan from the oven and brush it with vegetable oil. Place the raviolis in a single layer on the pan. Brush the tops with vegetable oil and bake for 6 minutes. Turn them over and bake for another 6 minutes. Remove from oven. They will be brown and crispy.

6. Meanwhile, warm up the chicken stock, add the chives. I spooned the broth into bowls and served the pine nuts, the raviolis, and the parmesan cheese on a tray and let everyone assemble their own dishes. We put the raviolis in the broth and sprinkled them with pine nuts and cheese.

This was a meal that I had fun making, but was expecting everyone to hate it. I was beyond surprised by my kids' reaction. They couldn't get enough of it! If you are having a hard time picturing what the finished product is like, it might help to know that Robert said it reminded him of Crab Rangoon. No, I didn't take any pictures.

Make it soon! Your family might surprise you, too.

I probably should have made them on Sunday for my friends, but I was too busy taking a nap and reading Mockingjay.

I promise the mudroom is coming along. It's nearly finished. Here is a peek from a few days ago.

Death by Carbs

2010-08-31T00:01:00.003-05:00

How we enjoy Grandma Sycamore bread on the way home from Utah:

It's good to have sandwich fixins available. I love peanut butter and spun honey on my Grandma Sycamore. With a layer of butter (salted, please) as a barrier between the honey and the bread. I like to avoid the crunchy crystals that sometimes form when honey meets bread. Mostly, I like the taste.

Turkey and Cheese are also delicious. I like swiss.

This bread is so good, I confess I enjoy it straight out of the bag. I peel the brown crust off the top first and eat that because it is my least favorite part. Then I eat the soft, middle insides of the slice. And finally, I take the three sides, the three soft and chewy and dense side crusts, flatten them a little with my thumb and my forefinger, and eat them end to end like a piece of licorice.

Sometimes I break a little piece off of the long crust and fold it in half before I consume it.

I decided last week that everyone should have their own loaf. I do not want to share and I don't want to settle fights over the bread rations in the back seat.

I miss mountains and I miss family and I miss dry heat. I wish I could hang out with my sister on a whim, or eat lunch with my mom, or eat my mother-in-law's palabok, or learn more about home renovations from Michelle, or spend time with my nieces and nephews whenever I felt like it. Or go to the Big Red House and drink their soda.

I miss people and places and the feeling of being home so much sometimes that it hurts.

The pain would be so much more tolerable if I could dull it with a loaf of Grandma Sycamore.

Attempting to Organize the 6 of Us

2010-08-27T09:05:00.005-05:00

School started this week. Everyone likes their teacher, and they LOVE their School PLANits. If your kids don't have one, you should get them one.

Let me rephrase that.

If you like to be organized and you like your kids to stay organized, THEN you should get one. Especially if they are at least in fourth grade. These systems were designed for kids with ADD or ADHD, but they are great great even if your kids don't have these disorders. After putting the labels on Jack's planner and folders last night, I wanted to marry the thing.

But . . . then I walked back into the mudroom to continue working with Robert on our latest Home Project, and my heart skipped a beat. I don't need to marry my son's school planner, I am already happily married.

Cut to:

Tuesday night, before school started, this what the mudroom looked like:

That is embarrassing.

My eye started twitching in anticipation of starting the school year under these conditions. How could I hand my kids their School PLANit Systems as an organization tool, then ask them to keep them in the warzone that was our mudroom?

I dug out my graph paper and some cardstock and made this . . .

. . . a scale model of what I wish my mudroom looked like. Of course, it would be constructed with screws and not scotch tape, and I would use a level so that the corners would be square. I also made a list of the supplies I would need and estimated the cost. I stared at it, showed it to Robert, we slept on it, and the next morning he was on board. After all, he had two whole days before he had to return to work! Why not take on a crazy project the likes of which neither of us have ever tried? We dropped the kids off at school and went straight to Menard's for supplies.

And also a book about building shelves.

I got to work painting and he got to work building.

We worked on it for two days straight and this morning he went back to his regular job (have I mentioned that he has one of those now? A regular old JOB! Hooray!), and we are nearly done. Hooks need to be installed, some trim needs to be added, and my paint job needs to cure before I can add the finishing touches, but I think we may have done it.

I'll post pictures of the finished product next week, after we have put everything away and added a few design details.

A new mudroom and School PLANits, what more could a girl ask for?

Questions I Asked Today and Things I Thought

2010-08-11T08:26:00.008-05:00

a.k.a. Inner/Outer Dialogue on a Summer Day

Ugh, who's up so early?

What time is it?

What am I making for breakfast?

Do I really have to work out today?

I feel like making cookies. I guess I'm working out.

How much longer do I have to hold this pose?

What's this pose called? It should be called El Diablo.

Why are the kids wearing corduroys? The heat index is going to be over 100 today!

Stella? Are you wearing a sweater? Really?

What am I going to make for dinner?

Why is George so grouchy?

How much longer till naptime?

Is that a SMILEY FACE in PEN on my three day old couch?

Where are the bottoms to this swimsuit?

How much hotter can it get?

Is the air conditioner even on?

How can a cookie that tastes so good be so bad for me?

How can I sneak one (three) more cookie(s) without the kids seeing me?

Where are all the combs?

Is the basement carpet soggy?

Why am I the only one who grabbed my towel on the way to the pool?

Do I HAVE to share my towel with you?

Is that woman those children's mother?

I hope she's a 40ish year old nanny, she is way too smokin' hot to have given birth to those children.

Why do I have big polka dots on my swimsuit? I look ridiculous.

Why did I buy a bright swimsuit with a pattern? Why didn't I go for a solid, dark color?

Why haven't I bought a new swimsuit for myself in four years?

How many more years until I can come to the pool and just nap?

How many more years do I have before the kids stop requesting to see my "dives" from the diving board?

How long do I have before their desire for my attention is replaced by a desire for attention from the packs of girls in skimpy bikinis?

Do each of you really need 20 green twisty ties from the produce department?

Do peanut butter sandwiches and cold cereal with a vitamin count as a well balanced, nutritious dinner?

Did you use actual soap in the shower?

Then why do you still smell like chlorine?

Why can't anyone shut the door when they come in the house?

Yuck. Go brush your teeth.

Well, brush them again.

Do it or I'll brush them for you.

Where are all the combs? Brushes? Forget it, just get me a fork. Tonight we are playing The Little Mermaid.

Do you have to fight every single night over my lap space for reading time?

Please don't stop fighting for my lap space too soon.

When did you all get so big?

How did you all get so funny?

How did I get so lucky that out of all the children in all the world, I ended up with you four?

What am I going to make for dinner tomorrow?

And where the HECK are the combs?

Back By Popular Demand

2010-08-09T16:32:00.011-05:00

Dear MaryAnn,

Thank you for inquiring about my blog postings, or lack thereof. I offer my apology for the tardiness of my response and beg your forgiveness. My contrition is sincere. See! It comes complete with photographs and a recipe.

Love Always,

Liz

Stella had a Ballet/Tap recital in May. The ballet recitals are so great because the whole school performs one big ballet, each class playing their own parts. This year they performed La Sylphide. It's all very fancy schmancy. This is a picture of the Tap performance.

Why is my little boy throwing a hand sign in this picture? Who does he think he is? He is so weird. In June we took the long way to Utah. We drove through South Dakota and Yellowstone. Some people think Mt. Rushmore is a letdown, but I thought it was amazing. Also, who knew South Dakota was so beautiful? The South Dakotans, I guess. A word of advice: if you ever find yourself driving along the freeway and you notice the bajillion signs advertising Wall Drug! don't get sucked in. Ignore them and drive on. I went there on your behalf and trust me, it's just a big store. I probably should have known, but I was seduced by the billboards and talked Robert into taking me there. We left with a pair of handcuffs, a yo-yo, and a hunk of iron pyrite. I didn't even get my free water.

The kids love love loved Yellowstone and I remembered how much I love love love public lands. Iowa, you are a great place to live, but you do not have enough Wild, Untamed Terrain.

I have my suspicions about Yellowstone National Park. I think it may be really a big zoo masquerading as a National Park. I saw some collars on the buffalo and my theory is that they were shock collars meant to keep the wildlife in.

We spent our time in Utah eating cupcakes, playing with cousins, eating hamburgers (You have In and Out now!) and hiking the trails. We went to a wedding where there was a photo booth, a candy buffet, lots of Diet Mt. Dew, and the bride and groom drove off in a big rig. I drooled over my sister's beautiful kitchen and house remodel even though she still doesn't have a light in the bathroom. That's okay, I don't have a faucet on my bathroom sink. At least she can wash her hands in the dark. I can see my hands just fine, I just have to brush my teeth over the bathtub. I'm rambling now, so here is the recipe I promised. It's a grill recipe, so you don't even need to turn on the stove OR the oven.

Thai Chicken Satay Skewers

Make the marinade:

1/2 cup thai fish sauce (nam pla)

1/4 soy sauce

3 Tablespoons sesame oil

1/4 cup brown sugar

1 Tablespoon garlic (that's like, three cloves or so)

zest of three limes, grated

1 lemongrass stalk, tender inner bulb only, finely chopped (I don't know if I have ever used this ingredient. Everything else I have on hand, but who keeps lemongrass around?)

2 Tablespoons minced jalepeno

1 Tablespoon curry powder

1/4 cup finely chopped cilantro stems (Finally! Something you can use those stems that are left over after making your salsa!)

Mix the marinade up in a bowl. Then slice 2 1/2 pounds of boneless, skinless chicken breast into 3/4 inch strips and marinate them for 4 to 8 hours. When it's time to grill, skewer the chicken pieces on bamboo skewers that you have, of course, soaked in water so that they won't burn. You can pound the chicken flat with a mallet at this point to make it extra authentic. Grill and dip in peanut sauce. You can make some dip, but I just buy it from the Asian Section of the market.

I think, if you're aiming for authenticity, it should also be served with a cucumber salad, but I don't bother with that. I just slice up a cucumber and sprinkle some salt and serve it on a platter.

How I Tamed My Dragon

2010-05-13T11:42:00.004-05:00

One day, about six months ago, I got sick of the uncontrolled rage I was faced with any time things didn't go the way Creed thought they should. I didn't like the feeling in our home brought on by his fire-breathing, crazy-eyed, spit foaming, body contorting, insult flying, possessed by a demon reaction when he learned we were having, say, crunchy tacos instead of soft tacos for dinner. Or when a shower was requested of him.

So I formulated a plan in my mind and waited until the next freak-out.

The day began with a mistake of my own. I suggested to the kids that it might be fun to go canoeing later on. Oops. Any self preserving parent knows that you don't announce fun things you plan to do. You just do them. That way you avoid the endless barrage of "How much longer till we leave?" and "Is it time now?" Also, your kids will remember you as a fun, spontaneous person for whom good times just naturally unfold. And finally, you are not the source of disappointment when plans sometimes change. On this particular day, the day of the Canoe Trip that Wasn't, they all ran up to their friend's house almost before my suggestion had escaped my lips and and the afternoon was spent running in and out of our house and up and down the street until dusk. When I announced it was time for showers and pj's and toothbrushes, Creed looked at me and said with a whiny squeal in his voice, "But I thought we were going boating!"

To which I responded "You chose to spend the afternoon playing with your friend. The day is now over, we can't go canoeing. We will have to do it another time."

His transformation was instantaneous. He changed into a familiar mixture of a crazy, psychotic mythical creature and the incredible hulk . . . on steroids. In seconds he was on the couch contorting and foaming and-I kid you not-gnashing his teeth and screaming "YOU'RE SO MEAN! ALL I WANTED TO DO WAS GO BOATING! WE NEVER GET TO GO BOATING! WE NEVER DO ANYTHING FUN! YOU HATE US! I'M RUNNING AWAY!!!!!"

I grabbed my FlipCamera and recorded him.

Eventually he settled down and went to bed. Before climbing into his top bunk, he bestowed his ritual hug and kiss along with the usual "Night, mom. I love you."

He had forgotten his anger, moved on, and left me in the wake of his tantrum. As usual.

A few days later, I took him aside and I showed him the video of The World of Warcraft Kid. Creed was giggling in an I-don't-know-what-this-is,-but-I-am-fascinated kind of way, also in an I-can't-believe-my-mom-is-letting-me-watch-this kind of way. Stella and Jack joined us and right around 0:40 in the video, Stella turned to Creed and said "That kid is just like you!"

Jackpot.

Creed jerked his face toward his sister and said "He is NOT! Gosh," then jerked his head back toward the screen.

After the video, I asked Creed what he thought. We talked about what we thought that kid's family must have felt like during the tantrum. We discussed what might have been going through the kid's mind. We wondered if the kid was embarrassed afterward.

Next, I showed Creed his own personal freak out saved on my FlipCamera from a few days before and luckily he started laughing. "I AM just like that kid! Oh my gosh!"

I reassured him of my undying love for him. I told him that my love and affection for him is not based on his behavior, and that there is nothing he could ever do that would make me stop loving him. I told him I loved him before his tantrums, during his tantrums, and after his tantrums. We talked about what he felt during these episodes and about the fact that they never, ever result in him getting what he wants. We brainstormed different ways for him to express how he feels and now he actually uses them.

Our home is much more peaceful these days. We don't see nearly as many freakouts, the apologies are more spontaneous, and we don't get burned as often as we used to. He has redirected his passion.

I wish you could have seen him the other day, though. Creed overheard Stella telling me about an incident on the playground. He ran up to her and passionately said "Well, you tell SoandSo that if he doesn't start being nice to you that your THIRD GRADE big Brother is going to get him!"

He might be tame, but make no mistake, he is still A Dragon.

Sing Your Way Home

2010-05-10T11:34:00.006-05:00

Ours is not the typically cool family. We don't put gel in our boys' hair, we enjoy playing sports but can't be bothered with the competition of league teams, we prefer each others' company to most outsiders', our couches are stained and our walls are decorated in permanent marker.

We can carry on conversations that consist solely of quotes from movies like Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, Tommyboy, Happy Gilmore, Napoleon Dynamite, Rubin and Ed, Ghostbusters, The Goonies, Uncle Buck, Evolution, and Ratatouille (I spelled that right on the first try, I'm amazing.)

Speaking of spelling, we never study for spelling tests and we always get 100%.

Most of our clothes are second hand and we tend to wear white socks with our slacks and dress shoes.

We play charades, we sing, we take music lessons. We all read the same book and discuss it at the dinner table.

Some days our dinner conversation consists of soothing each others' bruised egos and hurt feelings caused by cruel, clueless classmates. More often we talk about how much fun recess was with the very same classmates. Ah, grade school, how I would never go back to you.

So here's the scene: We are attending a service and Jack is sitting next to someone who he looks up to and admires. You know the kid I'm talking about. I'm sure your kids have one or two of their own. The kid that is about year older than your kid, comes from an amazing family and has a heart of gold. If I could hand pick someone for my son to emulate, it would be this kid. Jack has a few of these boys in his life. Good, kind boys with good heads on their shoulders.

After the service, Jack tells me that Jason's* remark during the singing portion of the meeting was "Dude, quit American Idolling the songs."

Hilarious. And perhaps the most accurate description of my son's singing style I've ever heard.

I can tell his feelings are hurt and his fragile ego is bruised. Even though the mothers who were seated near him can't stop showering him with their praise for his lovely voice.

Have you ever seen About a Boy? It's entirely possible he was singing with his eyes closed.

Then he complained more loudly than usual this weekend as I turned on The Sound of Music to watch and sing along as we completed a five hour drive (no Robert in the car=I get to listen to musicals.) My boys usually complain about my affinity for the musical, but then they sometimes sing along with Mary Poppins and her Spoonful of Sugar, or Tevye and his If I Were a Rich Man, or in this case, Frauline Maria and her Do Re Mi.

Not this time. He turned his back on me and watched out the window until he fell asleep.

I was scared. Had his song been stifled? Had the accurate and witty comment from his friend permanently affected him? Admittedly, sometimes I feel tempted to reign in his voice. Is that terrible? It's a desire to protect him from inevitable comments like this from his peers. I know it would be way more cool if my kid grumpily sat on the back row in Primary and begrudgingly mumbled the words to the songs. That's what the typical ten and eleven year old boy does. Here's the thing: he learned to sing like this from me. He sings in public the way I sing in private. More importantly, though, is this: Silencing his voice is the same as silencing his joy. I won't do that.

I was afraid, this weekend, that his joy had been silenced without my help.

I was nervous as the Primary children gathered in front of the congregation to sing their Mother's Day songs.

With the first note, though, I realized that I had better be more careful about teaching him the right words and rhythms to those songs because he was pretty much singing a solo with the rest of the primary as his back up.

With head held high, mouth wide open, and a sparkle in his eye, his joy had lived to see another day.

I think that's pretty cool.

*Obviously, I changed his name. We love this kid, and his family. Even though I know that his mom will see through this thin disguise, I don't want anyone in bloggyland to make any judgments about him.

One Man's Trash is Another Man's Treasure

2010-03-30T12:46:00.005-05:00

Today I stepped into the shower in the middle of a beautiful sunny day. I hadn't washed my hair since Saturday and I promised myself that I wouldn't let it go another day.

You're welcome, Robert.

I emerged from the bathroom fully dressed with damp hair. No walking around your house in just a towel or a bathrobe luxuriously air drying when your nineteen year old brother lives with you.

Even if he walks around the house wearing only his boxers.

I looked out the front door and there was Eddie in a lawn chair making up for his winter induced Vitamin D deficiency by soaking up some much needed sunshine. He and George sat among my purple and white crocuses, George bouncing up and down and patting Eddie's cheek.

I love watching other people love my babies.

I checked some email, opened my google reader for the first time in three weeks (over 250 posts to read!) and combed my hair before I looked outside again.

Eddie and George are now sound asleep on that lawn chair out front. It's parade week in West Des Moines. The week when we get to pile all of the junk we have collected for the past year outside on the curb and a parade of people drives by and they pick through our stuff and take whatever they want before the city comes by to collect it and take it away.

I think I'll go get Georgie and put him in his bed before someone thinks he is a part of my pile and tries to take him home.

It's the Charity Event of the Year

2010-02-25T09:33:00.004-06:00

My kids came home from school last week heartbroken for the victims of the earthquake in Haiti.

"So many people died, mom."

"People don't even have their houses anymore."

"There are kids that lost their parents."

I shushed the boys before their sister lost all control of her emotions. She doesn't really know pain. Her most painful experience is having to eat oatmeal for breakfast when she wants waffles, and that's the way I like it. Their lives should be all butterflies. And sparkles. And rainbows.

But they couldn't forget about the people on that island who are suffering.

They thought there was something they could do.

So they hatched a plan. I guess this is what it's like to have a fifth grader.

(When I was in fifth grade, my sister and I had a lemonade stand. My dad saw us out front, and suggested we sell canned soda instead. He offered to buy the soda, we would sell it and pay him back the cost of the soda and keep the profits. We made something like Twenty-Five dollars that day, and we never repaid him. I kept waiting for him to bring it up, but he never did, so we pocketed all the cash. It's okay, though, because a child can never repay all that their parents do for them.)

This Saturday my driveway will be converted to a Hot Chocolate for Haiti stand. They are selling hot chocolate and donating the money they make to the Red Cross.

You have no idea how badly I want to take over the whole thing.

"What are your goals? How much money do you want to make? Then you need to tell at least X amount of people about your project. Here, let me make the flyer. The more people that know about it, the more people you'll have. You should get a local business to match your proceeds dollar for dollar."

Instead, I'm making small suggestions. Stella took a flyer (that her brothers made without any help from moi) to ballet last night, and came home with a couple of bucks from friends that couldn't make it on Saturday but wanted to support her.

They braved sub-zero temperatures and delivered flyers to all the neighbors.

I'm also doing my part by asking my local readers (all 5 of you) to stop by my house between 10:30 and 1:00 (2 1/2 hours? Are they kidding me?) for a delicious cup of hot cocoa. Yesterday they made some cookies to sell and I think I heard something about a plan to make brownies today after school.

If nothing else, you can come by and mock me from your warm car as I freeze my a$$ off supporting my kids. And Haiti.

And that's why I will never have my own cooking show

2010-02-09T00:18:00.010-06:00

All of my wildest dreams were about to come true.

I was all set to host several women in my home for a few hours today while I instructed them in the fine art of cookery. I felt sure that they would find my skills to be of such a caliber and my jokes to be so well timed and I would exhibit just the right amount of sincerity that they would insist on using their student loans to fund my own weekend show on local access cable.

But then Robert's dad had to go and get the Big C. (That's what we insiders call Cancer.)

Then his dumb old spleen had to rupture. Stupid spleen.

And he pretty much almost died, but a few angels decided to guide his surgeon's hands and miracle of miracles he made it out of a surgery that nobody thought he would survive.

He is, however, now short one spleen.

The long and short of it is that we took an emergency trip out west, I had to cancel my cooking demonstration, and I hate cancer. Cancer sucks.

But family rocks. Especially mine.

And when they eat the food I cook for them (with a little help from my mom and my sister), they make me feel like a rockstar.

All kidding aside, his story is pretty miraculous and I feel so blessed to count myself a member of his family. They are inspiring men and women. If you are interested in following the progress of Robert's Dad's treatments, visit his blog.

Freeze Frame

2010-02-05T13:12:00.006-06:00

Right now, my finger fits perfectly into my toddler's fist. His head is the missing puzzle piece for that space between my jaw and my collarbone. I am never tempted to shove him off my lap. (Unlike a few of the older ones whose bums are quite bony and who shift their weight in a highly uncomfortable manner the entire time they sit there.)

Stella's five year old body, with her knees pulled up to her chest and my arm under her head, curls perfectly into the C shape that my body makes from my shoulders to my knees. I know this fact because of the early morning visits from her that begin before the sun is up. She likes to tell me what she dreamed about while I doze in and out of wakefulness.

Creed runs at me full speed and leaps onto my upper torso, wrapping his arms around my neck and his legs around my waist, hooking his feet together behind me. There's no faking the joy on his face when I catch him. Sometimes, I sneak and hold his hand in public. He pretends not to notice, but I can see him stealing sidelong glances at me. He likes to sit in my lap when we read at night. He would collapse in embarrassment if he read this, but I think that someday he will remember it fondly.

Jack doesn't sit on my lap much anymore. He won't change his clothes in front of me. Public embraces have been replaced by one-armed side hugs. When I am the recipient of a full embrace from him (in the privacy of our own home) his face turns to the side and rests on my ribcage just below my chin. I can feel his arms under my armpits and wrapping around my back. We now wear the same shoe size. I've needed to go into his room to recover my Chuck Taylors. I have mistakenly donned his hoodies as I run around town, not noticing that I am wearing my son's clothes until I catch a glimpse of myself in the glass doors at Target. He likes to fall asleep in my bed when Robert is on call, and I can't bring myself to remove him to his own bed when I turn in for the evening. At eleven o'clock at night, when he is sound asleep in my bed, it's easy to remember the baby he used to be.

I remember when he would lead me on a tour of the planet with my finger in his fist.

I remember when we wasted* entire days snuggling, reading, singing, Mother Goosing . . .

I don't recall the last time he willingly embraced me in public, but you can bet that if it happens again, I will hold on a little bit longer.

I'm not wishing for my babies to stay babies, nor to I want to have another one.

Jack and I read the same books and have lively discussions about them. It's fun to have kids that are learning to play instruments and stretching creative muscles and noticing each other as more than that annoying person who is always there. No matter what. I taught the kids how to play Mafia a few weeks ago, for crying out loud. How fun is that?

I just think the spacing of my children was a really smart thing. Good job, me. Or good job, God. Either way, having kids at all different stages is a really good thing.

*Is that a waste of a day? I think not.

Anxious Much?

2010-01-25T10:06:00.004-06:00

Is it a dumb idea to have a Valentine's Day Party?

What if I ask my guests to come dressed as their favorite pairs?

That does make it dumb, doesn't it.

I love having parties, but I also hate having parties.

In the days and hours leading up to any gathering for which I am the hostess I think:

Nobody's going to come.

I don't think I have enough food.

I'm going to run out of beverages.

I'm sure nobody's coming.

This food is gross.

I'm the only person in this town who even likes blue cheese.

I have no friends.

Nobody likes me.

Of course, my friends come and I don't run out of anything and I spend the evening with interesting people and hear interesting stories but then I also usually say something that sounds dumb or lame and reveal myself as a Lord of the Rings loving, Star Wars watching, SciFi loving, Celebrity Gossiping, bad housekeeping, impatient, non-spiritual, gas guzzler who uses plastic grocery sacks and disposable diapers and sometimes forgets that not everybody wants to hear about my funny cute kids but I don't really have much else to talk about because I don't really do much else besides a doing bad job at keeping house and keeping my patience in check and reading too many books.

I feel like having a Valentine's Day Party.

When Kids Get the Camera a.k.a. Skydiving Hamster

2009-12-17T17:27:00.001-06:00

Found this on my Flip Video after a night out with Robert. The girl sitting on the bed is the Babysitter.

A House that Looks Good Enough to Eat

2009-12-04T11:05:00.008-06:00

Not my house. C'mon, you know that's not true. Decorating skillz, I lack.

I'll be making my gingerbread house next week.

It's one of those traditions that I sort of dread, but the reality is always better than I expect it to be. I just hope I don't have to sit here and make it all by myself. That would be depressing.

Here is the recipe for gingerbread, in case anyone who doesn't already have it is interested:

Gingerbread Recipe:

2 3/4 cup flour

1/2 tsp salt

1 tsp ginger powder

1/2 tsp nutmeg

1 tsp cinnamon

1/4 tsp cloves

3 tsp baking powder

2/3 cup molasses

3 egg yolks (save the whites for the icing)

1/2 cup brown sugar

1/2 cup vegetable oil

line two large size cookie sheets with foil and spray with cooking spray. set aside

mix all ingredients together to form a dough. divide dough in half. press each half into a cookie sheet. (it helps to coat your hands with crisco so the dough sticks less to them.) bake at 300º for 20 minutes. place pattern pieces on the cookie sheets and use a knife to cut around the pieces as soon as the gingerbread comes out of the oven. pull the negative pieces of the gingerbread (the pieces you are not using for your house) off the cookie sheet and allow the house pieces to cool. Separate the foil from your house pieces before they are completely cool, though, because the foil sticks to the gingerbread like an obsessed ex-boyfriend who can't seem to move on.

Royal Icing

3 egg whites

1 lb of powdered sugar

1/2 tsp cream of tarter

Mix all ingredients in a large mixing bowl. Cover portion not being used with a wet towel to keep it from drying out.

I don't have a scanner to scan the pattern for the pieces, but here is a photograph of them, if that helps anyone who is actually going to make one of these beauties.

Side: cut two

roof: cut two

front and back: cut one with all the windows for the front, then use a cookie cutter or freehand a big window on the back piece.

You can't get one of these, he's one of a kind and he's all mine.

That's my mom's handwriting on those pattern pieces. If your little heart is desperate to make a House of Gingerbread, send me your address and I'll mail you a pattern. You could also use pieces of cardboard to make a mock-up of a house and use those for a pattern.

We use hot glue to stick it all together and then we use icing to cover the hot glue. We stick it to a piece of cardboard with a hole big enough to put a nightlight through and covered in tin foil.

Then we do our best to make it look like the candy aisle at Wal-Mart vomited all over it.

Maybe I'll photograph the step by step next week and post more complete instructions.

Would it be alright . . .

2009-12-02T13:24:00.003-06:00

. . . to mail last year's Christmas cards as though they were this year's?

Look what I discovered when I opened my box of holiday clutter, ahem, decorations.

All of my Christmas cards from last year, addressed, sealed, and not delivered.

Awesome.

It's not a Misnomer . . .

2009-12-01T14:35:00.006-06:00

. . . Mr. Fox truly is fantastic. We saw Fantastic Mr. Fox over Thanksgiving weekend, and our family is united in our adoration of the flick. I thought it was the perfect blend of old and new. The audio track for the movie was filmed on location. The filmmakers dragged the actors out of the studio and had them deliver their lines in places like open fields and barns. Each character was a handmade puppet, not animated digitally. We are all inspired and we want to make puppets of our own. We all keep quoting it in our conversations. I will purchase this one when it is available on DVD.

I am looking forward to watching Everybody's Fine. Ten years ago Robert and I watched the Italian version of this movie and it has been on our list of favorites ever since. As we watched the preview for the Hollywood version, Robert leaned over to me and (without realizing what the title of the movie was) whispered "looks like somebody's ripping off Everybody's Fine." Imagine our surprise at the end of the trailer when, in fact, that was exactly what the movie was called. I hope they didn't mess it up too bad.

Also, this movie looks awesome. I cannot wait. Some people may have no desire to watch a movie about babies, but I am not one of those people. I may or may not have been all choked up during the preview. Please watch the trailer for it and then tell me you will go see it with me. (I may even be willing to drive to your town and make a weekend out of it.)

Let's see, what else. Modern Family makes me laugh out loud. (The stepmother character . . . the amazingly gorgeous one . . . yeah, that's what my sisters in law look like. I'm not kidding. We're talking random people stop them on the street and ask them to be in commercials. Bee Eee AaaaYoutiful.)

And Finally, a few weeks ago, I discovered something else. After the kids went to school, I sat down to fold some laundry and turned on the television. (Recently, we rearranged our furniture and our television loves its new home. We get, like, FOUR stations now. Livin' the lap o' luxury, I tells ya.) So, I discovered Bernie Mac. America, how long have you been keeping this gem of a comedian to yourself? He's funny. Oh, wait, when I googled him so that I could link to him, I found out that he's no longer with us. As in he's dead. He died of a massive heart attack. That's sad. I wonder why so many great comedians die early deaths? John Belushi, John Candy, Chris Farley, Gilda Radner, Mitch Hedberg, Richard Pryor, and that's only what I could come up with off the top of my head.

(When I asked Robert for the name of the actress on Modern Family, he said Julie Bowen and named a bunch of other stuff she's done. I corrected him and asked for the name of the gorgeous actress. And he said "She is the gorgeous actress on that show." He's so cool.)