The Blessings Behind a Broken Microwave

WE...are a microwave loving family. From warming up pancakes in the morning and melting cheese over corn chips for some quick nachos, to heating up a bowl of Chef Boy RD and defrosting chicken, this quick-cooking contraption has long been one of our favorite kitchen appliances.

Our white microwave died earlier this year. We were heartily saddened at it's passing, as it had been with the family for a long, long, long time. Many years, in fact. Of course, things were made to last back in the days we purchased it. Not so these days, as you will soon read.

Out my hubby and I went searching for an awesome-possum microwave. The color didn't matter. We just wanted to find something from a brand we'd trusted in the past, and were willing to pay a mid-range price for it. Not too expensive, as we're not rolling in waves of money. Not the cheapest either, as that typically says, "I'll break on you in no time."

We ended up picking a black one by Emerson. I put down the name knowing full well the company has a reputation of being good, and our one bad experience won't keep me from purchasing it again.

I loved our new microwave. It had all sorts of buttons, and popped the kids' popcorn to perfection - a very important consideration in our house. All four of them had tons of fun using it, which may have contributed just a smidge to it's premature death.

That's right. Only six months and our beloved new microwave passed away, refusing to heat a thing. It'll happily blow cold air on whatever you want to stick in it, but no more heat.

Sadness, I know.

One thing I haven't loved , but will accept as there's nothing I can do about it, is the sudden increase in the amount of dishes we must now do. We are not ones who have an electric dishwasher. Two hands and a sink full of suds is how we get things clean.

Our utter dependence on this one appliance for the nourishment of my children became apparent as suddenly my kids began to declare there's "nothing to eat!" In truth I realized they were proclaiming, "We don't know how to eat things you don't cook in the microwave!" Here we come to blessing #1.

1. Mom's cooking things for the kids again. Whether it's warming up last night's leftover burger patties or mixing up some pancake batter, Mom has actually been in the kitchen, at the stove, actively participating in the feeding of her children. And since she's already cooking up things for lunch, why not get a few things prepared for dinner! Which brings us to...

2. The evening ritual of dinner prep isn't as hectic. Don't get me wrong, it's still hectic, just not AS hectic. Yet it has freed up enough time to enjoy having the kids come in to help finish putting everything together, like preparing a green salad, setting the table, and slicing up some veggies. Of course, that's all dependent on what we're eating that night.

3. Another unexpected blessing has come in the form of teaching the younger ones to use the stove. Both of my boys are old enough, but until now I hadn't taken the time to do anything about teaching them until the last two weeks. I'm not talking about anything huge, just warming up a can of spaghetti and meatballs or cooking up some Ramen noodles.

4. The last blessing I have noticed in this short time has been an increase of my children's gratitude for providing a simple meal for them. It may not be exactly what they want, but the fact that I took time out of my busy day to prepare something just for them has been noticed, and I've felt the increase in gratitude and love.

I'm still hoping we'll be able to get a microwave someday soon, but until then I find myself oddly happy that for a time our microwave is broken.

Teenage Girls

Just a quick funny.

The other day my husband went to pick up our teenage daughter and a few of her friends from school. The moment she got home M came into my room, plopped down on my bed, and said in a sorely afflicted voice, "Dad just doesn't understand what it's like to be a girl!"

Being the super understanding, serious minded mother I am, the first thing out of my mouth was, "I certainly hope not! We'll have a whole new set of problems if he does!"

She rolled her eyes at me.

Apparently I'm not as good understanding teenage girls either.

Wholehearted Avoidance

There are dishes in my sink at this moment. They're making fun of me. They taunt me with the need to get them done. I don't like them. At least, not when they're dirty. When they're clean they tend to be much nicer.

There's laundry in my basket, waiting to be put away. If I got them done there might be actual socks to put on in the morning. Pretty white socks. Not the Christmas ones with the hole in the toe. Or the St. Patrick's Day green set with the black band along the top that makes my impossibly white legs look even more glaringly white.

There's a bed in my room that hasn't been made. The sheets are actually inviting me to climb on in and spend some quality time being unconscious. Just for a little while. Temptress.

There are leaves around my rose bushes. Last fall a pipe burst and flooded the street, bringing with it leaves and mud and twigs that all nestled happily around my roses. I didn't have the desire nor the energy to get them taken care of last fall. Apparently I still don't, though I've made a little bit of progress by purchasing some new gardening gloves. They're still sitting in a bag.

There's a story that needs to be worked on. It's for a Relief Society activity I'm doing in a few weeks. I have the basics put down, but filling it is far too taxing on my brain. My brain is too delicate these days. Maybe it needs a nap. What was I saying about my bed?

There are e-mails to write. To darling people whom I absolutely love and adore. But again, brain energy required. And my brain is screaming at me to stop writing on this blog. How can I possibly put together witty letters to entertain the masses? Or the few? Or even just one?

There is a window screen to fix. It kinda, sorta came apart yesterday when I walked out of the house and realized the jacket I grabbed was not the jacket I needed. The jacket I grabbed belonged to my son. The jacket I needed had a certain pocket that held a certain set of keys. Keys that would get me back into the locked house. Keys that would make the car go so I could get my kids to school. So Mr. B and I headed around the house quickly praying I'd been neglectful with at least one window - and I had. Happily for me Mr. B is still small and spry enough to fit through said window without injury and let me back in. To find the jacket. With the keys.

Yep. I am living a life of wholehearted avoidance this morning. I just don't wanna. Well, maybe the nap thing I wanna, but everything else will have to wait until the enormity of the situation at last drives me to at last make a little dent in the to-do list. The dishes MIGHT get done, and the socks may ACTUALLY find a home in my drawer. We'll just have to wait and see.

A Beautiful Piece of Porcelein

Granted, you might think me a bit odd for taking a picture of my toilet and posting it on the Internet, but bear with me. You see, for the last, oh, who knows how long, we've had toilet troubles. Nothing serious. More...annoying.

The toilet rocked as it wasn't stabilized from underneath the house. There's nothing like sitting down to do some business and wondering if you'd be able to stay on.

We had to flush two or three times to make sure everything made it down. And sometimes it didn't. Eww.

And then there were the times the handle and chain would somehow get stuck and would need a little convincing to release enough to keep the toilet from flushing on it's own. There's nothing like hearing one's chirpy little girl run into the bathroom saying, "I'll jiggle the handle!"

Even worse were the time the chain would get stuck under the plug and water would just keep rushing. Ugh. The amount of water wasted over the last year has to be, well, bad.

An early Christmas present arrived on our front porch about a week or two ago. It was from my daddy. He bought us a brand new, water efficient toilet! That would be the masterpiece pictured above. Yesterday after work my hubby went into our crawlspace and spent about two hours putting together something to stabilize the toilet. Oh yeah. We sawed wood and drilled holes and put in screws and nails. It was awesome.

We were planning on having my daddy come to help put the toilet in later this week, but when we already had the old toilet out my hubby said, "Why put the old one back in?" So we opened up the boxes and pulled out all the pieces. As I read through the instructions I started to really wish we'd waited for my dad. They were bordering on Greek to me. However, my brain finally began to make sense of what was printed and in another ten minutes or so we had our new toilet in.

Guess what? Everything flushes in just one go! It doesn't rock when you sit down and get up! And there's no need to jiggle the handle! Ah, the sheer bliss of knowing one can use the bathroom with no worries.

Scrooge'n It

I've been an absolute SCROOGE when it comes to getting into the Christmas Spirit this year. Of course, when Christmas decorations are out by the middle of October and FM 100.3 is playing Christmas music 24 hours a day the moment Halloween is over, I have to ask, "Can you blame me?"

I'm normally on the rooftop the day after Thanksgiving putting up all the outside lights. I've even been known to visit a few stores on the dreaded Black Friday. Not this year, though. This year I stayed in the house the whole day long making a dozen earrings to sell at a boutique the next day (only sold one pair, sadly, which may have added to my Scroogy-ness).

For several years we haven't put up a Christmas Tree. Not because I wasn't in the spirit of the holiday, but because we've little ones in the house and I really didn't want to spend all my time replacing tempting ornaments. Nor did I relish the thought of only decorating the top half of a tree. I am happy to report this year my husband made us get one. Yep, you read that right, he made us!

I will readily admit I'm happy he did. Though our decorations are a bit sparse, once we light it up come nighttime, the glow makes us feel extra happy. I'm finding my attitude is simply reluctant, rather than out right bah humbug-ish. Once we get me going, I'm happy to get the job done. The biggest problem is getting me going.

To help me along, however, I have downloaded some of my absolute most favorite Christmas CD's onto my iPod and have even listened to them. Whoa, I know. Don't worry. I have no intention of going overboard.

One funny before I let you go. Whilst sitting around the dinner table last night the children began discussing what they were going to ask Santa to get them. Things got silly (as things will do at our house), but not as silly as the moment our youngest was asked. She said, and I quote with all honesty, "A piece of plastic poo!"

BYUofU

A few times during the year the citizens of Utah become a little...how shall I put it...crazed? You will witness crowds of people segregated by color - red and blue - for a good week before the big event occurs.

I am talking, for those who are not familiar with our local competition, of football/basketball games between the University of Utah and Brigham Young University.

For the most part the rivalry between fans is lighthearted. I have often chuckled when listening to the various members of my husband's extended family spar on who's team is the best. One particular moment still makes me laugh to this day. One day last year my in-laws won a BYU pillow, which they had placed on the back of one of their couches. My niece Heather and her husband Brian were sitting on the couch. Both are die-hard Ute fans.

Her daddy, Stephen (also a Ute fan), suddenly yelled out, "Heather! Don't move! Whatever you do, don't put your head back!" Of course through her mind immediately raced thoughts of giant spiders or snakes or some other frightening or deadly creature right behind her. We all started laughing when Stephen pulled the BYU pillow out from behind her and tossed it across the room. "That was a close one," he joked.

In my own family we've never cared which team won. I've never been THAT into sports, and really neither has my husband. I figured we'd live in a fairly competition free home. That is...until cousin Bethany started BYU. My oldest daughter, Miss M, absolutely LOVES her grown up cousin. As Bethany's love of BYU became more and more vocal, my daughter became more and more a fan.

Suddenly, Miss M is ALL ABOUT BYU!!! Whilst I attended a boutique Saturday, she went over to Uncle Stephens with cousin Bethany so they could all watch the game together (I figure that must have been interesting).

So now my home, previously known as Switzerland (neutral), is housing my very first sports nut. I never thought this day would actually come.

'Cause We're Awesome. That's Why!

These days it's nothing to sniff at, managing to make it to number fourteen on the marriage anniversary list. What's even more incredible is the fact we're still going strong! So I've got two lists for you today. First, I'd like to give you the top five serious reasons our marriage works.

#5 - We communicate!!! If fincances are tight, we talk about it. If there's a problem at work or home, we talk about it. If we're feeling frustrated about something or someone, we talk about it! Communication invites intimacy, allowing each person to feel important in the other person's life.

#4 - We're similar, and opposites - and we embrace both in each other. My hubby and I are very similar in many respects: our love of service, we'd both rather be home than anywhere else, we enjoy reading and sharing what we've read, we're both peacemakers, etc. But we're also opposites in many respects: I'm a thinker, he's a doer; he's a morning person, I'm a night owl; he enjoys a nice tomato sandwich, I'd rather not (but thank you very much); he'll eat just about anything, I'm one of the pickiest creatures on the face of this earth; I help him chill out, he helps me be motivated. It works for us.

#3 - We're both very selfless, and even a little bit selfish. We're the sort who will give up everything at the moment to help the other (and he's done more than his share of this in recent months). We keep watch over one another, and notice when the other needs a pick me up. But we also know when to say, I need some help. As I learned from my therapist this last summer, if our own needs aren't met, we cannot help fill the needs of those around us. So if we need a little time to ourselves to read alone, or take a walk, or go to the library, we'll make it happen.

#2 - We make family a priority. I'm not even talking about our immediate family, but extended family as well. We have both been blessed with AMAZING brothers and sisters and in-laws. Our nieces and nephews are to die for, and our parents would move heaven and earth to help us out. We do not take that for granted, and lend our love and support whenever possible.

#1 - We make God a part of our marriage. We make Him a vital and essential part of our marriage. There is no doubt in my mind, without Him, we would not be where we are today.

Now, for the top five silly yet equally important reasons we've made it this far.

#5 - We share a love of Coke products. What?! GASP! For shame, Laurie. I know, I know. But there's nothing like seeing the face of my husband when he sees a bottle of Coke in the fridge that I got for him as a surprise. Or my delight when he's stopped off at 7-11 to get us a couple of Big Gulps before he comes home. Good times, people, good times.

#4 - We also share a love for teasing the children. It comes in really handy when one is trying to convince the children of something improbable (like we're having snake for dinner) and needs the other to act as though it's true. The hubbs is WAY better at the teasing, I'm merely the pupil. But I'm getting better at it.

#3 - Neither of us is way into sports. Nope. When hubby's brothers and nephews (and some sisters-in-law and nieces) get together to play some basketball, you won't see my hubby among them. And I love it. While others talk about this sports team, or who's doing what and being traded where, neither of us has any idea of what's being talked about. And neither of us, even just a little, root for the U more than the Y. Instead we sit back and enjoy watching the rivalry.

#2 - When we're old and gray we plan to share a room in a rest home. We'll both have Alzheimers and plan to flirt with the cutie in the bed next to us. A lot.

#1 - 'Cause we're awesome. That's why.

*** Author's Addition ***
My good friend Carol reminded me of something, and it's just too good not to put in. When all the kids are out of the house and we won't have to worry about any children saying, "Why won't you let us get one!?!?!", hubby and I are totally getting motorcycles and traveling the U.S. of A.!!!!! OH YEAH BABY

A Love/Hate Relationship

I absolutely, without a doubt hate cleaning the bathroom. I would rather do laundry than clean the bathroom, even though the constant buildup of dirty clothes would keep me working for hours after the dreaded bathroom would be done. That's how much I detest this particular household chore.

However, there is something to be said for the moment the bathtub is no longer covered in soap scum, the toilet is free of everything toilet related, every shadow of toothpaste has been removed from the sink, and the floor is water-mark free. For those few minutes I can look upon our tiny bathroom and think, just for a moment, it was worth the grossness.

Too bad it never lasts. The inevitable cry of "I have to go to the bathroom" explodes from the mouth of each and every child, and for some reason the very short walk from the living room to the bathroom manages to cover them with dust, mud, spaghetti sauce, chocolate syrup, and jam. Maybe it's because they have to pass the front door and the kitchen to get to the bathroom. I'm not sure yet. All I know is by the time they're all done in my freshly cleaned chore of a room, it's dirty again.

Ah well. At least I have a week off until it's time to clean it again!

Oh No. Mom's Flirting Again

I was having an awesome day yesterday - just plain oodles of fun all around. It had been a lovely morning with the kids, we went to Costco for a cheap lunch and met up with my sweet friend Debbie, had a wonderful afternoon together, then decided to hit up McDonald's for dinner just so we wouldn't have to create dishes to wash.

My mood was up. And I'm talkin' WAY up. Make a bit of a fool of myself being silly, sort of up. So when the cute little male cashier was in a chipper mood as well we just started having fun bantering back and forth.

After paying too much money for food I didn't need, the family starting getting drinks and napkins and ketchup galore. We found a place to sit, daddy took the littlest to the bathroom, and M got a very serious look on her face.

"Mom, I'm gonna tell on you."

I had no idea what she could possibly be talking about. What did I do? Get her the wrong drink? Why did that constitute a bit of tattling? And precisely who was she going to tell?

"You," she said in a very serious tone, "were flirting with that guy."

WHAT!?!?! I burst out laughing. Then I laughed harder when I realized she was serious.

"I was not flirting," I firmly declared, but she would not believe me. Now you have to understand I'm not exactly known for my flirting skills. You can ask my husband. I'm way too open and up front, and will tell you directly how I feel. So the fact that my oldest thinks I have skills in this area doesn't exactly speak wonders for her future with boys (something I am far too happy about).

Rolling my eyes I went back to the front to wait for our food. The sheer idea of that boy (and let's be honest, he was WAY younger than me) thinking this pudgy, 30 (muffle) year old woman who has given birth to five kids and looks like it might be flirting with him almost sent me into another fit of giggles.

Whilst I waited my darling daughter did indeed tattle to her daddy, who - being the sweet, understanding, patient man he is - promptly began to tease me. And I - being the sweet, understanding, patient woman I am - began to tease our daughter.

By the end of the night I'm pretty certain M regretted saying anything about her mother flirting. In fact, if it were possible I'm also pretty certain she would have gladly dug a hole in the ground to hide until we were finished with the teasing.

When it was time to go we'd come to the conclusion it was time to start looking out for my next husband because my current one was obviously going to die soon. I was overjoyed he was willing to help me in my search. M declared she didn't want a step-father. Obviously this is something she's just going to have to deal with since I'm all ready on the look out for a replacement. It would also seem I'm on the prowl for a younger man with great cashiering skills and a bubbly personality.

So if you see me flirting with anyone, just beware. He could be my next victim. Mwooahahahaha...

BOYS! (And Yes, I'm Talking About Mine)

Those who have known me for many a year may be a tad surprised to hear we now own an xBox, as I've always sworn I never wanted one in my house and that if my kids wanted one they'd have to earn it themselves. Several months ago my hubbs and I were concerned at the enthusiastic playing our boys did on our aged computer, and were thinking along the lines of picking something up to give it a break.

This was such a huge concession on my part, as I knew full well how easily hours could be wasted playing something silly and unproductive (hello - I am a Facebook junky after all). The thought of my kids sacrificing time outside to sit in front of the tv didn't seem like a good trade. However, at the time I put out the idea in my family newsletter winter was setting in, the kids were in the house more often than ever, and they were off-track. This translates into a whole lot of time spent on my computer!

My big brother and his sweet wife called me with some wonderful news - they had an old xBox with some games they were completely willing to give us. That's right! The entire system and games were a gift. How awesome are they! Though it took a bit of practicing how to be nice and share, and after a bunch of time-outs happened combined with a lovely set of rules, the kids were doing really quite well at balancing time outside (on nice days) with taking turns on their new beloved toy.

Until yesterday.

A friend gave the boys two of his old games: Lego Star Wars 1&2. J is ecstatic, but B got tired of them awfully fast. #2 had to be fixed so we only got it back yesterday, and J's whining side came out full force! He didn't WANT to eat dinner. He finished some homework at school all ready! What do you mean it's bedtime?!?!?! By the time he actually said goodnight to everyone we were ready to ban him from the xBox for the rest of the week.

A little before nine he came in crying. "What's wrong?" I ask (first mistake). "I just know B's going to wake up before I do and he'll get on the xBox and play what I don't want to play!" I had to try really hard to keep my eyes from rolling around in my head. What could I say? Certainly not "You've been whining all night long so I'm going to reward your behavior by telling you B can't play his own game in the morning before school?" Uh...no. But I was too tired to think clearly, and that's when I made my second mistake.

"Whoever gets up first gets to pick what game you play."

Dumb, Laurie. Major dumb! Know why? At four o'clock in the morning I hear someone cry out and think one of the kids' is having a bad dream. I jump out of bed and go into the hallway where the flickering lights of the television are coming from the living room.

"No way," I think. "Yes way," my inner taunter shouts back. Sure enough, both my boys are on the xBox. AT FOUR IN THE MORNING!!! I made them get right off, saying their dad hasn't even gone to work yet, and told them to go back to sleep. When I get up a couple of hours later they're back on the xBox. I wasn't sure if they'd even gone back to sleep until I talked to hubby later on this morning. Sure enough, when he left for work, they asked if they could get back on and play.

If the boys are even a little ornery with me tonight, you'd better believe they'll be getting ornery right back!

The Evils of Scales

I had a fight with my scale on Sunday. It was trying to claim I had gained two pounds over the week before. I begged to differ. This rudeness was further compounded by learning my husband had lost a pound. Hmph.

Weight loss is such a roller-coaster ride. It may put you on cloud nine when you lose more than just a pound, or throw you body and soul into the depths of despair when you gain just one ounce. I suppose this is why I've never paid too much attention to my weight before. Even for a "larger" woman I've always been pretty healthy. Both my cholesterol and blood pressure are low, and if allowed to go at my own pace I can walk for miles. My heart is quite healthy. It's just my weight I have so many issues with.

The knowledge that muscle weighs more than fat has been my long time friend. Typically in the Spring when I begin a new exercise routine I tend to gain much weight in the beginning due to the impressive inclination of my body to create massive muscles. I have been accused more than once of having awesome Popeye calves. The joking truth, "I was built for work" has passed over my lips more than once.

This inclination toward building muscle has frequently kept me from charting my weight on a scale. In fact, our little household hasn't had a scale in it for many years. The need to change this arrangement came when hubby and I agreed to do a Biggest Loser challenge. Knowing we both have a love for food, we've not done too much changing there. For the most part there has simply been an increase in the amount of vegetables in our diets, as well as some portion control. No, most of our efforts have been put into exercise.

We've been rather bad at it lately. While having our daughter old enough to watch her siblings helps an awful lot, there is still the problem of finding time! Between helping three kids with homework, getting dinner made, getting hubby off to do bishop duties, having daughter in Young Women's, and Mr. B in karate, there are some weeks we're lucky to get out more than once for a jaunty walk around the neighborhood. Of course being here at home I'm able to find some time to do little things in the way of exercise, but folding horrendous amounts of laundry can only get your heart rate up so high.

So today I'm still mad at my scale. I won't talk to it until next week, and I'll see if it's ready to repent of it's evil ways and make me feel a smidge better about myself by claiming I lost those two horrific pounds. It better...

Fun With Big Sister

I never had a sister. I wanted one desperately but my parents gave me a younger brother instead. He's okay, I like him. I might even say I love him, but that might get embarrassing...for him.

My husband and I were nice enough to give our oldest, a girl, a younger sister. Into this sibling M has had a place to put into effect all her "mothering" instincts I was never able to do with my younger brother. And believe me I had those instincts as well!

One example of my frustrated efforts: my brothers were playing around one day and - as often happened - my younger bro got hurt. He was about eight at the time (I think) and still small enough to fit on my lap. So I sat him down, put my arms around him, and tried to get him to tuck his head into my shoulder. You know, as a child would it's mother. To my consternation instead of appreciating this tender moment he lifted up his head, gave me a disdainful look and asked, "What are you doing?"

I let him go.

Of course these days I've got all sorts of kids to hug and squeeze and kiss boo boo's better, and it really is fun for me to see my oldest trying to mother her siblings. There was a recent shift in the relationship between my daughters, one my husband made certain I documented with pictures, and I am so glad I did.

We typically have spaghetti on Sundays, and M enjoys the chance to cook it, under supervision of course. A few weeks ago M took the opportunity to teach her little sister something about the art of cooking spaghetti.

Here they are after the noodles have been cooked. A is helping M pat the sauce into the pan to warm up.



















And now they're mixing in the sauce together. Yum.



















Here's A showing us her "I'm so happy someone let me help" face.

Too cute, right? A loved it when we all thanked her for helping to make dinner :)

One of the biggest experiences I had with "sisters" was the year I spent at college with some of my school friends. One of our most favorite things to do was play with one another's hair. The other night I asked M to get me her brush so I could play with hers. Here's a little sampling.

Isn't her hair color gorgeous?!?! She keeps talking about wanting to dye it one day. I desperately hope she doesn't, and learns to appreciate just how beautiful it is.

Here's another braid I used to do to myself when I was a little older than her.

She really has fantastic hair for braiding. I just wish we had more time in the mornings to do things with her hair. Oh well. I supposed making sure she's not in her jammies at school is a bit more important.

One last "do." This time I had some fun making her look EXTRA pretty :)

Marvelous, isn't it? You can see it makes her VERY HAPPY!

Though I may not have had all the sisters I wanted as a kid, I'm more than blessed with sisters now. All my sisters-in-law have loved me and blessed me more than I could ever have hoped. The sisters in my various wards over the years have filled that lonely place in my heart more often than I could have imagined. As I grow older, I found my most favorite and beloved sister has become my own mother. How lucky can a girl get?!

Gadgets

Without a doubt one of my most favorite toy involves anything with wires, buttons, and batteries. Actually, I don't even need batteries. I just love gadgets!

Like today, hubby and I decided after taping up the exposed wires on the computer speakers a few times over and STILL not being able to get the right one to work, it was time to get new speakers. Walmart had some for only twelve dollars, so we "splurged," lol.

These twelve dollar speakers are AWESOME! (This should go a long way to telling you a- how often we don't get ourselves anything new and b- how excited I get over the littlest of things). First of all, they plug in an outlet so there will be NO MORE BUYING OF BATTERIES!!! How fantastic is that! And then, are you ready for the greatness of what I'm about to tell you? The earphones jack work, which means no more listening to whatever the kids are listening to while trying to watch television. That is so awesome it HAD to be in italics.

So instead of shredding zucchini, or putting away the yarn I bought so hubby can't see I spent more than I'd kinda sorta said I'd spend, or making the scarf my mother requested, I'm listening to Taylor Swift on the headphones and playing on Facebook. Oh yeah, baby.

Silly, you might say? Perhaps, but it's still good times for me. I'm a little obsessive about gadgets. Get a new digital watch? Hand it over so I can set it. Got a new television? Get me the instructions and get out of my way! Is that a new power drill? Whaddya want me to build?

Most of the time others are happy to do so, except when it comes to two certain people: my daddy and my son, B. For his birthday this month I got my dad a marshmallow shooter. He wouldn't even let me help get it out of the tangle of wires meant to put off would be thieves. Hmph. For rude, right?

Okay not really, but it took all sorts of control not to rip that thing out of his hands, lol. B is much the same way. He'd rather try to do it himself, and seems to think I'm a little abrupt when I promptly take his new toys and figure out how to do them for him! Some people's children, right?! B takes far too much after me for my own good, lol.

Can't wait for Christmas to come, though. Who knows what sort of gadgets Santa will bring my family this year (giggle).

I'm Gonna Wash That Scrooge Right Outta My Hair!

My friend Erin tried to be kind and subtle about it, but there was no other way to simplify her hints. In her own special way, she was telling me I'm being a Scrooge!

I'm woman enough to admit...she's right. I've been an absolute Scrooge these last several weeks. I blame everything else, of course, as any Scrooge should. After all, I've been sick since the beginning of October. Things surrounding certain members of our ward have brought out the saddies in me. And by-gummit - I REFUSE to listen to Christmas songs when I haven't even celebrated Thanksgiving yet!!!

Once Thanksgiving passed, however, I was still in grumpus mood. There was no tinsel in my town. No twinkle in my lights. No jingle in my bells. Not even deck to my halls (whatever that means).

I couldn't stand the thought of stringing up one strand of mini-lights. Those who have ever passed by our house the day after Thanksgiving might know how unusual this is. I typically start plotting and planning what color will wrap around which post a good week before I'm even ready to start. One year I even had the lights up before Thanksgiving so we wouldn't have to worry about putting them up the day after. Not this year.

I've Scrooged my way through the first few weeks of Christmas-time. I wanted to pull out of it. But when we've got sick kids, sick mom, and sick hubby...nothing could get me to do more than was basically necessary. Like laundry. Loads, and loads, and even more loads of laundry.

Until yesterday.

I made my friend Erin a promise to at least put up a wreath. "Do it for the kids," she said. I don't think the kids cared, to be honest, and it took me a few days of coaxing, but the wreath was finally up on the screen door. Then it just looked sad...outside...all alone. One solitary decoration in a vast yard of empty canvas. It really needed some love.

Well, thought I, you did pick up two new strands of lights. Why not just put those up? It wouldn't seem so sad and lonely then. So up they went. In the process I happened to find two other strands of multi-colored lights. Seemed a waste not to put those two suckers up. After all, they were just sitting around, all ready to be used. Why not?

As I wound the strands around a few more posts my hubby came home. "Want me to go under the house and get the rest of the lights?" "Oh no," says I. "Don't worry about it. I just wanted to put these up." Not good enough, apparently, as he promptly went through the gigantic hassle of moving the dryer to uncover the entrance to the crawlspace where we spent a good ten minutes dragging up boxes of Christmas decorations. It would seem hubby likes to see the Christmas lights up as well. Know what? It turns out I was SO EXCITED to start putting them up!

Not only did I get more lights put up, as well as our outside nativity (which A seems to think is her personal life-sized play set), but lights and decorations have made their way into the house as well.

I still have a ways to go, but the Scrooge in me is finally starting to disappear.

Feeling Better + Giant Messes = Taking Action!!!

Our house has been VERY cluttered lately. And I'm not talking about the sight of someone's living room that has one magazine out of place and perhaps a cushion not plumped up. Oh no. I mean a veritable volcanic explosion of stuff; layers of dust so thick I could knit a sweater; so many papers I didn't know where to put I could have rebuilt a tree; piles of books stacked so well I could have put a sheet over the top and called it another shelf. Oh yeah, we were living in a land of blah.

Over the last two months I simply haven't felt well. Little to no energy, constant coughing, losing my voice every other week, among other things. My delightfully darling hubby can only do so much to help me out. I mean, he can't be the one to constantly work all day long only to come home and see the dishes still aren't done and a wife with no desire to make dinner. And then there are the kids who need help with homework and eventually forced into the tub to clean themselves. Crazy kids. Add to that all the hectic goings on of his being a bishop and you can just imagine how hard this has been on him.

I didn't realize how much this was affecting me until I finally began to get better this last week. Suddenly all those things that had been bugging me I at last had the energy to fix!

Laundry piled up a billion times over is almost caught up (I say almost because, seriously people, is it ever really caught up?). The computer desk - normally a scene of complete and utter chaos, just had two small trash bags of needless garbage purged from it's system. A giant box of Primary music paraphernalia that's been making a weekly trek between my washing machine and the kitchen table so I can do a load of clothes here and there has at last been tackled!!!

And baby does it make me feel GOOD!!! Of course, there's still oodles and oodles to do, but at least there's been a beginning. Let's hope it lasts just a little longer...

Face Your Fears!

For my birthday this year I asked to get my ears pierced. I've worn earrings for many years until I had a few babies who thought the pretty sparklies hanging from Mom's ears were toys to be pulled at will. By the time I thought of wearing earrings again the little holes had closed right up.

Many (many) years later I still have all those earrings in the hopes I might find myself able to wear them once again. They sit in a drawer, all sad and lonely, dreaming of being oohed and awed over. Too bad their sparkles are hidden under a layer of dust. Yeah, it's been that long.

My oldest has been flip-flopping around the idea of getting her own ears pierced for about two years now, loving the idea of having sparklies hanging from her own lobes. There's just one problem standing between her and this ultimate dream: the fear of actually shooting little rods through her ears. Silly girl, where does she come up with crazy ideas like this?

Instead of admitting her fear, M comes up with loads of other excuses. She can't find a pair she really likes; or she doesn't think she's ready to take care of earrings; the earrings might get lost; or her ears might become infected. I can understand each and every one of her reasons, but one in particular seems to pop up repeatedly. Fear.

Of course I'm not heartless and can understand that sort of fear. My concern stems around M allowing this fear to stop her from doing something she'd really like to try. Now I promise I'm not looking to force her into that chair and hold her down, blatantly ignoring the screaming of my firstborn until her ears are pierced. I simply want her to learn to face her fears, for one simple reason: I did not.

Growing up I was riddled with fears. So many fears. Add to this the annoying trait of being painfully shy, and I spent far to many years living with regrets. I regret not trying for more solos in choir due to the fear I'd be horrible and promptly rejected. I regret not trying out for Madrigals, the special singing group in our high school, as I was afraid of the time commitment as well as some of the other people who were accepted (you know, the mean popular girls). I regret not dating more due to the fear of doing or saying something stupid. Oh my, there are too many regrets to mention here.

So when I see my daughter not doing something she really wants to do because she's afraid, it plucks the strings of regret living inside me. Therefore, as a part of my birthday present, I asked all of my children to be present and watching as my ears were pierced. Hee, hee, hee.

To be honest it didn't hurt all that much. My hubby had to hold M in place and keep her hands off her eyes, silly girl, but I didn't even flinch. The next thing the kids knew I was done. Ears shot through with metal bullets disguised as sparklies. And you know what? M is thinking about getting them pierced again. Who knows, maybe she will...in another three or four years.

Our First WinCo Experience

It's been big news in the Salt Lake Valley - WinCo was coming to town! Granted I'd never heard of the store myself, but everyone seemed to be aglow! "Prices better than Walmart" they exclaimed!

That was hard for me to wrap my mind around, as I've been shopping at Walmart for several years now (yes, traiter that I am). Yet the idea intrigued me. What would this enigmatic WinCo be like?

Turns out, it wasn't the fun family experience we were all hoping for :(

Mistake number one. We decided to try going opening week. I mean, come on. How dumb could we have been?!

Mistake number two. We went on a Friday.

Mistake number three. We went on a Friday NIGHT!

I know, I know, but it's nothing compared to:

Mistake number four. We took the whole family.

Perhaps we should have known what to expect when we had to go in one door and could only come out the other, followed by the part where we're all fighting just to get through the door. The point where I knew we were in trouble occurred not ten yards in.

M had attached herself to my arm, visibly closing into herself as she felt more and more crowded. B and J were having a good time running back and forth between me - who had A in a shopping cart as we attempted to maneuver through the throng - and Daddy - who had made it quite a distance ahead of us! Every ten to fifteen seconds we did a quick head check to make certain no one (meaning the boys) got lost.

The good news is as we wandered through the maze like good little mice WinCo had posted signs big enough to advertise their huge deals. This turned out to be helpful since it was too hard to get close enough to see the actual products.

I did get awfully excited to see all the big bins of candy and granola and flour and candy and spices and candy and cereal. OH, and they have candy :)

Still, by the time we found ourselves approaching the front of the store M had obviously had it. She was miserable. Even the treat we got her didn't seem to brighten the morose look covering her lovely features. As we finally made it to the eternally long lines at the front, my hubby made a run for it with 3 out of 4 kids. Good thing the fourth decided to hang around...I didn't realize we had to bag what we bought. That kid sure turned out useful!

Regardless of the rather frightening introduction to the world of WinCo, I'm willing to give it another try (especially when we finally run out of all the cereal we bought at such great prices!). I'll just go on a weekday. In the morning. And I'll pray first.

Day 3 of Femininity

I don't believe for a moment being feminine requires one to be completely serious, sedate, and statuesque the entire day long. In fact, some of the most beautiful women I know are those who don't take themselves too seriously.

Which is why I decided.......after managing two lovely pictures...
(uh oh, she's got that look in her eyes)

It was time for a little silliness!!!

Oh work it, baby. Work it!

Now that's what I'M talkin' about!!!

Hmm. Perhaps being feminine DOES require one to keep her tongue in her mouth.

For shame! I know. My bad.

Silly me. In any case, I'm feeling lovely AND a bit on the funny side today. And yeah, that's the mess in my backyard, lol. Hope you enjoyed day 3 :)

It's Dentist Day!!!

Unlike their mother, who spent many years having horrific tortures inflicted upon her by these loving doctors of teeth, my kids are quite excited when they find out it's time to go to the dentist.
I don't blame them. With tv's in the ceiling and a relaxed atmosphere, not to mention picking out prizes at the end, it's a small bit of heaven.

M was not too excited to go this time. I could fully understand why as three of her teeth were refusing to come out (two on the bottom, one on top). She was terrified the dentist would try to take them out and it would hurt. These three stubborn bits were shoved to the side of her mouth, forcing the incoming teeth to grow inward. We didn't realize this until the teeth came out. And oh boy was that an adventure.

One of the dental assisntants came out to let me know what was going on: M was refusing to let them take out the teeth, saying she'd rather go home and let her daddy do it (uh huh, yeah right). I asked to come back and see her, and between me, two assistants, and the dentist we all managed to trick, uh, talk her into letting the dentist take them out.

I got to watch the process, and holy cow those things did NOT want to come out! The top one especially (one of her molars). She had to have a little bit of a shot to numb things up enough to allow for removal. Then she spent the next hour with bits of her mouth numb, and even refused to eat dinner until she could taste it, lol. Still, she sure scored big with the Tooth Fairy last night! Three dollars is not too shabby for a half hour in the dentist chair.

M knows I'm the tooth fairy, so she wrote me a note and thanked me for being there to hold her hand when she felt scared. Wow did that make me feel good.

J came out first and without any sort of problem - cavity free! Too bad B couldn't say the same. He's got two that need to be filled in two weeks. Poor kid. He was sad not to have his picture taken with the other two in the "Zero Cavity Club." Yet, ever the optimist, he can't wait to see if he gets another prize when he's all done ;)

Free Time

Ah ha! At last. After an extended holiday weeked I finally have the computer all to myself. I can wile away the hours doing nothing but - huh? What's that baby? You need some more chocolate milk? Okay, hang on....

As I was saying. There are hours to be spent doing nothing but what silly little things come to - yes baby? You have a poopy diaper? Oh all right. Let's go change you....

Where was I? Oh yes. I can do anything I'd like to on here, what ever silly little idea that pops in my head like play on Facebook, or watch some really old episodes of Gilligan's Island or - yes my sweet girl? You need a blankie? Well we just happen to have one right here....

All right. Uh...oh yeah. I can watch some fun old shows or look up little crochet ideas or - yes little one?! You've lost your milk? Hmph (patience is a virtue, patience is a virtue, patience is a virtue)! All right, let's go look....

Wow. Okay. I can watch episodes of old shows or...or...(not going to interrupt me?) or look up ideas or write a bit on my sto- (IlovemydaughterIlovemydaughterIlovemydaughter) Yes? What do you need now?! You want to get dressed? Seriously? Let's go pick out some clothes....

....

....

....

(In a whisper) So I could write some more on my story or-

What do you want now?!?!?!?!?!

Oh.

I love you too sweetheart....

Hmm. Gotta go. I have a chance to cuddle with my daughter.