Saturday, March 28, 2009
The Temple... CLOSED?!
The temple will be closed for the next 2 weeks during the Easter pageant. I've know all week and haven't been able to get there. I don't know if I'll make it today. I feel like crap in the mornings and that's usually my time. AAAAAHHHH! What will I do?! 2 weeks?!
Costco Pregnancy Shopping Spree #1
Cheesecake (someone mentions it one day, I buy it the next)
Hummus (someone feeds it to me one day, I buy it the next)
Lemon/Berry dessert (I need one tomorrow, I buy it today)
Cashews (yum, salt)
Dried Endamame (?! looked good, lots of protein, low on fat)
Lemon Bar mix (I'm hoping Kyra can make these)
Cereal (for the 4am wake up when nothing sounds good to eat)
Bread (for PB &J sandwiches)
Hummus (someone feeds it to me one day, I buy it the next)
Lemon/Berry dessert (I need one tomorrow, I buy it today)
Cashews (yum, salt)
Dried Endamame (?! looked good, lots of protein, low on fat)
Lemon Bar mix (I'm hoping Kyra can make these)
Cereal (for the 4am wake up when nothing sounds good to eat)
Bread (for PB &J sandwiches)
The Compliment Guys
Some friends of mine have a blog and there is always a list of things that they find "interesting". They are usually pretty deep and/or long (!) articles that I don't get all the way through or am not personally interested in. Remember, I like happy endings and don't like to dwell on on the negative. Optimistic to a fault baby, that's me!
Anyway, click here to get the full story of these 2 guys giving out free compliments to people at Purdue University. You can either read the article, or watch the video since it's mainly the same information. I absolutely LOVED this story! This is TOTALLY something I would do, who wants to join me?! When and where?!
Anyway, click here to get the full story of these 2 guys giving out free compliments to people at Purdue University. You can either read the article, or watch the video since it's mainly the same information. I absolutely LOVED this story! This is TOTALLY something I would do, who wants to join me?! When and where?!
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Turkey Jerkey to the rescue
On the advice of a friend, I sent Bill to the store for some turkey jerkey last night. (OK, the friend didn't say, "send Bill", she just said try turkey jerkey.) Full of protein and something I could chew on for a little while before swallowing. It sounded perfect. My biggest problem is eating, then digesting too quickly, and having my tongue taste like whatever I just ate. I know, I know, that's disgusting. Tell me about it! Anyway, jerky sounded like I could prolong the eating process without eating too much of something and it worked! I probably had 30 grams of turkey protein last night right before I went to bed and this morning I felt pretty good. Maybe it was all the super support I felt from everyone's comments on my misery, but I think it's more than that. I got off my butt this morning and walked a mile on the treadmill and then found that I was starving. Starving?! Yep. I haven't felt the desire to eat, without the urge to puke, in at least 3 days. Yipee for me. And now, thanks to another friend who cuts up cherry tomatoes and puts then on hot dogs (freak!), I had a delish bean burrito, complete with fresh cut cherry tomatoes. Double yum, I think I'll go make another...
So Much for Optimism
I was sure this time would be different. I had convinced myself that I had planned appropriately and that all the extra protein in my system was going to make all the difference in the world. I was sure that sickness, nausea, and the urge to hurl on an hourly basis was going to pass me by this time. I was optimistic. Embarrassingly optimistic.
Now. Not so much.
I've resigned to spending the next 7-8 months on the verge of running to the bathroom to expel any healthy or unhealthy nutrients that I have put into my body.
I've resigned to staying in my pajamas all morning long while I debate back and forth if I feel well enough to get a load of laundry done.
I've resigned to stocking up on granola bars and yogurt so Tasha has something she can make herself for breakfast in the morning.
I'll be lucky to get my make-up on and hair done before I have to go pick up Tasha from preschool. Each morning that I don't I will seriously consider paying for the bus to bring her back to our house after preschool.
I'll debate whether or not I want to make my bed since I want t to crawl into it several times each day.
I'll be pleading with my husband to do the dishes each night so I don't have to smell the remnants of leftover sauce, peanut butter, or rotting cheese the next morning.
I'll be letting Tasha watch a lot of TV in the afternoon while I curl up in a ball and huddle under the covers (at least for another few weeks while it is cold in my house) and sleep or read. I'll also be very grateful that, for some unknown reason, we've got many more cable channels than we pay for.
I'll have a fleeting desire to try to earn a living sending snarky emails to people and blogging random posts about the misery of pregnancy. But, since the few moments I feel well are spent trying to catch up on housework, cooking, and giving my kids a little attention, I won't figure out how to make any money being myself. (Hopefully that fortune from Tuesday night comes through and "A business venture will soon come my way.")
Instead of the above money making scheme, I'll contact the local high schools (and jr. highs?!) and schedule speaking engagements for the youth (girls in particular) to avoid sex at all costs because the resulting pregnancy is Misery, with a capital M. I'll go into all the complications, side effects, labor issues, and medical needs that accompany said pregnancy all through gritted teeth, while holding a barf bag and doubled over in pain. If this doesn't do the trick I might bring friends along to lecture on the ins and outs of fertility, pains of labor (since this aspect actually goes well for me), and the sleepless/cranky/teething nights that ensue in the first years of life. That should do the trick. I don't mind if there is a baby boom right now, I just want it to remain in the married, over 20 crowd.
After all this, I will hopefully be feeling well by 3ish and can complete my day as I normally would. That's been the norm thus far and I certainly appreciate my late afternoons. If I could only figure out what I've been doing wrong up until then.
Yes, I wanted this baby. Yes, it was planned. Yes, we are all thrilled. But now I really realize why it takes 4-5 years to psych myself into going through this again.
Now. Not so much.
I've resigned to spending the next 7-8 months on the verge of running to the bathroom to expel any healthy or unhealthy nutrients that I have put into my body.
I've resigned to staying in my pajamas all morning long while I debate back and forth if I feel well enough to get a load of laundry done.
I've resigned to stocking up on granola bars and yogurt so Tasha has something she can make herself for breakfast in the morning.
I'll be lucky to get my make-up on and hair done before I have to go pick up Tasha from preschool. Each morning that I don't I will seriously consider paying for the bus to bring her back to our house after preschool.
I'll debate whether or not I want to make my bed since I want t to crawl into it several times each day.
I'll be pleading with my husband to do the dishes each night so I don't have to smell the remnants of leftover sauce, peanut butter, or rotting cheese the next morning.
I'll be letting Tasha watch a lot of TV in the afternoon while I curl up in a ball and huddle under the covers (at least for another few weeks while it is cold in my house) and sleep or read. I'll also be very grateful that, for some unknown reason, we've got many more cable channels than we pay for.
I'll have a fleeting desire to try to earn a living sending snarky emails to people and blogging random posts about the misery of pregnancy. But, since the few moments I feel well are spent trying to catch up on housework, cooking, and giving my kids a little attention, I won't figure out how to make any money being myself. (Hopefully that fortune from Tuesday night comes through and "A business venture will soon come my way.")
Instead of the above money making scheme, I'll contact the local high schools (and jr. highs?!) and schedule speaking engagements for the youth (girls in particular) to avoid sex at all costs because the resulting pregnancy is Misery, with a capital M. I'll go into all the complications, side effects, labor issues, and medical needs that accompany said pregnancy all through gritted teeth, while holding a barf bag and doubled over in pain. If this doesn't do the trick I might bring friends along to lecture on the ins and outs of fertility, pains of labor (since this aspect actually goes well for me), and the sleepless/cranky/teething nights that ensue in the first years of life. That should do the trick. I don't mind if there is a baby boom right now, I just want it to remain in the married, over 20 crowd.
After all this, I will hopefully be feeling well by 3ish and can complete my day as I normally would. That's been the norm thus far and I certainly appreciate my late afternoons. If I could only figure out what I've been doing wrong up until then.
Yes, I wanted this baby. Yes, it was planned. Yes, we are all thrilled. But now I really realize why it takes 4-5 years to psych myself into going through this again.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
This Could be Very Dangerous
On Sunday Kyra asked me if she could bake some cookies. I told her that would be fine as long as I was not involved in any way. She pulled out a cookbook and started looking through recipes. She tried to switch to some yummy looking frozen dessert and I asked her what ingredients she needed, none of which we had. Silly girl. To end the torment, I gave her a recipe for chocolate chip cookies, suggested that she add some butterscotch chips in the mix, and then proceeded to go to bed. On my way out of the kitchen Tasha asked if she could help. I knew this just had disaster written all over it but I didn't feel well and needed to rest.
A few minutes later I asked Bill to go check on them. He reported that all was fine.
A few minutes after that Tasha came in to kiss me. She did not hug me because she reported that she had flour on her and she didn't want me to be a mess. Hmm, flour everywhere huh?!
A few minutes later I sniffed the air. "Bill, do you smell that? It smells yummy."
The heavenly aroma of freshly baked butterscotch/chocolate chip cookies was permeating the air and I didn't have to do anything to get that smell. Each cookie was perfectly proportioned and baked to perfection. They were yum-yum-yummy!
Now, if I could just get Kyra to bring me a few bites of dough before she bakes them all...
(Oh, this could be very, very, dangerous!)
A few minutes later I asked Bill to go check on them. He reported that all was fine.
A few minutes after that Tasha came in to kiss me. She did not hug me because she reported that she had flour on her and she didn't want me to be a mess. Hmm, flour everywhere huh?!
A few minutes later I sniffed the air. "Bill, do you smell that? It smells yummy."
The heavenly aroma of freshly baked butterscotch/chocolate chip cookies was permeating the air and I didn't have to do anything to get that smell. Each cookie was perfectly proportioned and baked to perfection. They were yum-yum-yummy!
Now, if I could just get Kyra to bring me a few bites of dough before she bakes them all...
(Oh, this could be very, very, dangerous!)
Friday, March 20, 2009
Spring is Here!
Google design by Eric Carle.
He's probably my favorite children's book illustrator, if I had to pick a favorite. When I taught Kindergarten I had the children imitate his art work by painting papers various shades of one color then exchanging pieces as needed to create their own picture. It worked out rather nicely and impressed their parents. I have no pictures or samples to my knowledge, just this beautiful memory.
What I do have is an Eric Carle sun painted on the wall in one of our bedrooms. I did it when Kyra was a baby and haven't even seriously considered painting over it. I really only started as I was testing out new painting techniques and ended up with a fabulous mural. I rag rolled the sky and clouds, then sponge painted a huge tree, grass, and flowers. To this day I still regret not letting the tree flow over onto the adjacent wall (let it go H, let it go!). But the top left corner screamed for something, anything! A sun, of course, what else do you put in the sky?! That is when the real fun began and the yellows and oranges and the book The Very Hungry Caterpillar came out. I painted many a coat, did a lot of taping, a lot of waiting, and got a lot of satisfaction. I don't know if I've put that much time and effort into anything since. Once every ten years or so should be enough, don't ya think?!
The best part of all this effort is when friends come over and say, "Oh, you have an Eric Carle sun on your wall". I love it! Literate friends are the best. Now, "On Sunday, he (the caterpillar) ate through ..." ?!
NTS: Reread "notes" Before Going Shopping
The original title of this post was going to be, "NTS: Don't Shop at Costco While Hungry", but then I realized that I already had a post with this title. Obviously these posts are not working. I guess I should reread them or make a list of them and post them somewhere. Something like a sign on my fridge that reminds me, "don't buy Cheerios".
The funny thing is, when I searched for my NTS posts, I came upon the one that warned me that grapes were not in season. Apparently I had bought grapes on several occassions and they were not good. The whole reason I went to Costco yesterday was to buy grapes! They are back in season. Thanks, Crystal, for informing me of this, you're a gem. Oh how I have missed grapes.
The thing is, I went for grapes and a pizza for dinner, and came home with over $100 worth of stuff. Granted, part of this was the $50 I had to pay for my membership renewal, but still. ($50?!!! Didn't it used to be like $30 or something?!) I was so starved for fresh produce that I also purchased apples, tomatoes, and blackberries. Chicken salad, yum. Samples of goat cheese, double yum. I did refrain from purchasing the rosemary crackers that they were serving the cheese on, but that is only because the box was $10 and I had filled up the cart pretty well already. Why does rosemary make everything taste so much better?! Monti's anyone?! I could eat their bread and a salad for dinner and be completely satisfied.
So, I guess I need to review my notes periodically so I don't repeat these mistakes anymore. Fortunately, I don't have an eight grader yet so I don't have to worry about her putting on eye make-up and looking like a whore. Life is good.
The funny thing is, when I searched for my NTS posts, I came upon the one that warned me that grapes were not in season. Apparently I had bought grapes on several occassions and they were not good. The whole reason I went to Costco yesterday was to buy grapes! They are back in season. Thanks, Crystal, for informing me of this, you're a gem. Oh how I have missed grapes.
The thing is, I went for grapes and a pizza for dinner, and came home with over $100 worth of stuff. Granted, part of this was the $50 I had to pay for my membership renewal, but still. ($50?!!! Didn't it used to be like $30 or something?!) I was so starved for fresh produce that I also purchased apples, tomatoes, and blackberries. Chicken salad, yum. Samples of goat cheese, double yum. I did refrain from purchasing the rosemary crackers that they were serving the cheese on, but that is only because the box was $10 and I had filled up the cart pretty well already. Why does rosemary make everything taste so much better?! Monti's anyone?! I could eat their bread and a salad for dinner and be completely satisfied.
So, I guess I need to review my notes periodically so I don't repeat these mistakes anymore. Fortunately, I don't have an eight grader yet so I don't have to worry about her putting on eye make-up and looking like a whore. Life is good.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Sunday, March 15, 2009
For Tori, to rid Brigham City of Snow
Snow, snow, go away.
Come back in two hundred days.
Sun, sun shine up high.
In the great Utah sky.
We won't want it in the summer.
So off to Utah in a Hummer.
Come back in two hundred days.
Sun, sun shine up high.
In the great Utah sky.
We won't want it in the summer.
So off to Utah in a Hummer.
Dinnertime Conversations
For some of us stuck in town this Spring Break, it was decided to have an end-of-the-break-what-the-heck-am-I-going-to-do-this-summer-because-I-nearly-lost-my-mind-in-a-week potluck. Sorry if you got missed, don't take it personally, half the ward seemed to be in San Diego this past week and we're not boo-hooing about it.
Right before we bless the dinner...
Ryan : (loudly from the other side of the room) H, shush!
(Me, astonished because everyone was blabbing away and not paying any attention to him, shuts up. Clint prays and people dig in. Ryan works his way over to me for some lame apology of sorts.)
Ryan: Sorry about that, I just needed to get every one's attention.
Me: Great, and I get to be the scapegoat?
April: You know, she was the one helping me while you were in the shower.
Me: Ya-ah-ah!
(Good comeback, no?!)
Do we really need to continue a discussion of my sleep patterns?
Jared: 4:30, really H?!
Me: What are you talking about?
Jared: The email you sent was at 4:30 this morning.
Me: No it wasn't.
Jared: Crystal, wasn't it like 3 minutes 'til 5?
Me: (not waiting for the answer) Well, that clearly isn't 4:30 now is it? Plus it was just a one line reply to something, It's not like I had been up composing a letter or blog post or something.
Crystal: I'm going to track all the hours you sleep now.
Me: Why would you do that?
Crystal: I think you have Sauer genes, they don't need any sleep either.
(Well crud, if I have Sauer genes why can't I be skinny and charming too?!)
A discussion of Transformers, the movie, leads to this one...
Steve: What's not to like? (The man is obsessed, he has no objective view at all.)
Me: Car chases, big robots, lame stunts, you name it. Plus there is nobody to look at.
Steve: Don't you like action movies?
Me: Sure, some of them.
Steve: What does it take to get you interested?
Me: Hello? Have you not been paying attention?
(I turn to Ryan)
Me: What does a movie need to hold my attention?
Ryan: A hot guy.
Spicy brownies? What are those?
Friend: I've really been trying to cut sugar out of my diet. (as she eats a brownie)
Me: Oh really?
Friend: Yeah, I didn't make any cookie dough this week just to eat it.
Me: (Picking up on the last part of the statement) Did you make any cookie dough and bake it?
Friend: Yes.
Me: What is spicy about these brownies?
Friend: I don't know.
Me: I don't either.
Friend: Oh wait, there it is.
(I never did feel the spice.)
Here's one about donating blood. Something these lame men can't seem to do...
Jared: They should really use (some technical term that I would never know but of course Jared does) to numb the area so you don't feel the initial poke.
Me: It's not the initial poke that is the problem.
Jared: What are you talking about?
(Imagine my right hand holding an imaginary needle and making jabbing motions into my left arm)
Me: It's when they don't hit the vein just right and they have to move it around in there to get the blood flowing.
Ryan (winces in pain and actually turns away)
At random times during the evening...
Random kid #1: Nuh-uh!
Random kid #2: Uh-huh!
Random kid #1: Nuh-uh!
Random kid #2: Uh-huh!
Random kid #1: Nuh-uh!
Random kid #2: Uh-huh!
Going green takes on a whole new meaning when you have to save food scraps for the chickens...
Me: Where do we put the chicken food?
Jaylee: There's a plate on the counter in there.
Me: I don't see it, is it empty?
Jaylee: Yes.
(Time goes by and more people are looking for the chicken dump plate that seems to keep disappearing, probably because someone keeps dumping it into the trash. Steve walks in with random, uneaten yet probably still good for the chickens food on his plate)
Steve: (looking around for the plate that is missing) Now where do I put this?
Me: Why don't you go put it in the empty KFC chicken bucket over there?
Jaylee: Oh, that's a good idea.
Isn't there something just a little sadistic about putting leftover, unwanted food for your pet chickens into a bucket that once held an ancestor of theirs that had been born and raised under cruel and unusual circumstances?
An alternative to the random conversation...
Random kid #1: Uh-huh!
Random kid #2: Nuh-uh!
Random kid #1: Uh-huh!
Random kid #2: Nuh-uh!
Random kid #1: Uh-huh!
Random kid #2: Nuh-uh!
And now, since, upon rereading this post, I seemed to have picked on Ryan a little too much...
Me: Ryan, distract me while he digs this splinter out of my hand.
Ryan: (blah, blah, blah, blah, blah... I don't really know what he was saying because it was now my turn to wince in pain)
Hm, that didn't really turn out the way I wanted it to. That was supposed to make Ryan look good, but it turns out I wasn't really paying much attention to him. Actually, I was trying to focus on the potential for the blackberry bushes I want to plant taking over my whole side yard, but I was being poked by a pin and it didn't feel very good. At one point, I think Ryan even moved into my line of sight and started making exaggerated hand gestures to get me to stop thinking of the tweezers digging into my skin. He's a good guy, April should keep him.
Oh, and I almost forgot...
Me: Did you have fun talking with your friends tonight?
Bill: Yes. (a man of many words)
After a little digging...
Bill: Clint had the flu yesterday.
Me: Did you stay far enough away from him? I don't want that stuff around here.
Bill: Yeah, I didn't give him a kiss goodnight or anything.
Right before we bless the dinner...
Ryan : (loudly from the other side of the room) H, shush!
(Me, astonished because everyone was blabbing away and not paying any attention to him, shuts up. Clint prays and people dig in. Ryan works his way over to me for some lame apology of sorts.)
Ryan: Sorry about that, I just needed to get every one's attention.
Me: Great, and I get to be the scapegoat?
April: You know, she was the one helping me while you were in the shower.
Me: Ya-ah-ah!
(Good comeback, no?!)
Do we really need to continue a discussion of my sleep patterns?
Jared: 4:30, really H?!
Me: What are you talking about?
Jared: The email you sent was at 4:30 this morning.
Me: No it wasn't.
Jared: Crystal, wasn't it like 3 minutes 'til 5?
Me: (not waiting for the answer) Well, that clearly isn't 4:30 now is it? Plus it was just a one line reply to something, It's not like I had been up composing a letter or blog post or something.
Crystal: I'm going to track all the hours you sleep now.
Me: Why would you do that?
Crystal: I think you have Sauer genes, they don't need any sleep either.
(Well crud, if I have Sauer genes why can't I be skinny and charming too?!)
A discussion of Transformers, the movie, leads to this one...
Steve: What's not to like? (The man is obsessed, he has no objective view at all.)
Me: Car chases, big robots, lame stunts, you name it. Plus there is nobody to look at.
Steve: Don't you like action movies?
Me: Sure, some of them.
Steve: What does it take to get you interested?
Me: Hello? Have you not been paying attention?
(I turn to Ryan)
Me: What does a movie need to hold my attention?
Ryan: A hot guy.
Spicy brownies? What are those?
Friend: I've really been trying to cut sugar out of my diet. (as she eats a brownie)
Me: Oh really?
Friend: Yeah, I didn't make any cookie dough this week just to eat it.
Me: (Picking up on the last part of the statement) Did you make any cookie dough and bake it?
Friend: Yes.
Me: What is spicy about these brownies?
Friend: I don't know.
Me: I don't either.
Friend: Oh wait, there it is.
(I never did feel the spice.)
Here's one about donating blood. Something these lame men can't seem to do...
Jared: They should really use (some technical term that I would never know but of course Jared does) to numb the area so you don't feel the initial poke.
Me: It's not the initial poke that is the problem.
Jared: What are you talking about?
(Imagine my right hand holding an imaginary needle and making jabbing motions into my left arm)
Me: It's when they don't hit the vein just right and they have to move it around in there to get the blood flowing.
Ryan (winces in pain and actually turns away)
At random times during the evening...
Random kid #1: Nuh-uh!
Random kid #2: Uh-huh!
Random kid #1: Nuh-uh!
Random kid #2: Uh-huh!
Random kid #1: Nuh-uh!
Random kid #2: Uh-huh!
Going green takes on a whole new meaning when you have to save food scraps for the chickens...
Me: Where do we put the chicken food?
Jaylee: There's a plate on the counter in there.
Me: I don't see it, is it empty?
Jaylee: Yes.
(Time goes by and more people are looking for the chicken dump plate that seems to keep disappearing, probably because someone keeps dumping it into the trash. Steve walks in with random, uneaten yet probably still good for the chickens food on his plate)
Steve: (looking around for the plate that is missing) Now where do I put this?
Me: Why don't you go put it in the empty KFC chicken bucket over there?
Jaylee: Oh, that's a good idea.
Isn't there something just a little sadistic about putting leftover, unwanted food for your pet chickens into a bucket that once held an ancestor of theirs that had been born and raised under cruel and unusual circumstances?
An alternative to the random conversation...
Random kid #1: Uh-huh!
Random kid #2: Nuh-uh!
Random kid #1: Uh-huh!
Random kid #2: Nuh-uh!
Random kid #1: Uh-huh!
Random kid #2: Nuh-uh!
And now, since, upon rereading this post, I seemed to have picked on Ryan a little too much...
Me: Ryan, distract me while he digs this splinter out of my hand.
Ryan: (blah, blah, blah, blah, blah... I don't really know what he was saying because it was now my turn to wince in pain)
Hm, that didn't really turn out the way I wanted it to. That was supposed to make Ryan look good, but it turns out I wasn't really paying much attention to him. Actually, I was trying to focus on the potential for the blackberry bushes I want to plant taking over my whole side yard, but I was being poked by a pin and it didn't feel very good. At one point, I think Ryan even moved into my line of sight and started making exaggerated hand gestures to get me to stop thinking of the tweezers digging into my skin. He's a good guy, April should keep him.
Oh, and I almost forgot...
Me: Did you have fun talking with your friends tonight?
Bill: Yes. (a man of many words)
After a little digging...
Bill: Clint had the flu yesterday.
Me: Did you stay far enough away from him? I don't want that stuff around here.
Bill: Yeah, I didn't give him a kiss goodnight or anything.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
A Softball Player's Lament
Line drive to 3rd base.
The ball is caught.
The laces break.
Oh, sweet glove that I love,
Parting is such sweet sorrow, but in a week you will be well.
'Til then, I will think of you often as I rub my left hand.
Remembering where you fit just right.
The aromatic smell of leather.
The worn spots.
The good times we've had.
I will miss you, but I know we will be reunited soon.
The ball is caught.
The laces break.
Oh, sweet glove that I love,
Parting is such sweet sorrow, but in a week you will be well.
'Til then, I will think of you often as I rub my left hand.
Remembering where you fit just right.
The aromatic smell of leather.
The worn spots.
The good times we've had.
I will miss you, but I know we will be reunited soon.
Friday, March 13, 2009
Why Does it Hurt so Much?!
Huh? Why does it hurt so much to pay bills. I have needed to do it since the beginning of the month. Fortunately, many things are done automatically, thanks to Bill.
I resigned myself to the dreaded task last week.
I didn't do it.
Monday I told myself this was the week and I needed to do it soon.
I got the bills out on Tuesday, spread them out on the table, and looked at them. They got put away that night before dinner. I prayed that night that I would be able to do them soon.
I asked Bill if he could import stuff from our account directly to our computer. He said no, so I got depressed at the thought of entering all that stuff manually. Again, I prayed that I would have the strength to get this money stuff done. I really don't like it.
I think I logged onto the credit union account sometimes later that week. I probably prayed again.
Finally, on Friday, I did it. I started off slow and thought I'd just see if anything was overdue already. I caught 2 things that were do that day and paid them over the phone, miraculously, without a fee. I think it was this breakthrough that kept me going.
I still haven't inputted some of the stuff, but I have pile of envelopes sealed, awaiting stamps and a drive to the post office. My stomach, my back and my head all hurt. Why is bill paying so painful?!?!
I resigned myself to the dreaded task last week.
I didn't do it.
Monday I told myself this was the week and I needed to do it soon.
I got the bills out on Tuesday, spread them out on the table, and looked at them. They got put away that night before dinner. I prayed that night that I would be able to do them soon.
I asked Bill if he could import stuff from our account directly to our computer. He said no, so I got depressed at the thought of entering all that stuff manually. Again, I prayed that I would have the strength to get this money stuff done. I really don't like it.
I think I logged onto the credit union account sometimes later that week. I probably prayed again.
Finally, on Friday, I did it. I started off slow and thought I'd just see if anything was overdue already. I caught 2 things that were do that day and paid them over the phone, miraculously, without a fee. I think it was this breakthrough that kept me going.
I still haven't inputted some of the stuff, but I have pile of envelopes sealed, awaiting stamps and a drive to the post office. My stomach, my back and my head all hurt. Why is bill paying so painful?!?!
Spring Break Silliness
Favorite breakfast item: apple with peanut butter.
Average breakfast time: 9:30.
Planned purchase: $5 on nail polish.
Greatest amount of money spent: $6.00 for Kyra and I to see Inkheart.
Best planned activity: riding Orbit and having lunch with my mom and kids at PF Changs.
Best unplanned activity: watching a 3 hour movie in about 4 hours and letting the kids fall asleep at a friend's house because of it. It was mostly nice because I got to be irresponsible and let my kids stay up late while I got to lust over Hugh Jackman with my friend.
Number of kids we've had over: 7.
Number of sleepovers: 2.
Number of books Kyra has read since Monday: 5.
Number of book reports she's written: 3. (no, they were not assigned)
Number of times I've thought about death and resomation: 0. (until now!)
Number of laughs I've had: too many to count!
Shouldn't spring "break" actually be that... a break? Aaah. Now it's time for my apple and peanut butter. (Although the girls will wait a couple hours for theirs.)
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Where Has All the Time Gone?!
I took Kyra and Cyrena to the movies today. I followed them in and they entered the row and went all the way to the end by the wall. Who wants to sit there I thought? I'm not gonna be trapped when some fat guy comes and parks it at the edge of this row with his big tub of popcorn and gigantic Coke. So, I sat on the end, where I'm comfortable. Then I looked over at them huddled together chatting and thought, "ya know, these girls are getting old enough that soon we will be able to drop them off at the theatre by themselves." Then I thought about young women's camp and how next year they will be going! WHAT?! NEXT YEAR?! Yep, next summer both of these girls will be turning 12 and can go to camp with the young women in our ward. AAAAHHH! My baby is growing up. Where did all the time go?
Somebody Has a Crush on My Husband
Bill had an assignment for a work related class he took this week. He was supposed to identify some sort of behavior to work on, specifically related to meeting people for the first time. He emailed a few friends and several co-workers. Blasted people didn't have a bad word to say about him, now he thinks he's perfect and we had to widen all the doorways in the house. Anyway, the responses he received came in all forms. Some were short and sweet. Some were mixed with sarcasm. Some were very thorough. The following one is a little too funny to not to share. Very creative, written in narrative form, and quite witty.
I met this guy, Bill, tonight at a party. I met others also, as there were 15 of us there, mostly strangers mingling, but tonight, journal, I'll tell you about this Bill.
I enjoy the company of genuine personalities and so I enjoyed talking with Bill. We spoke of family, he asked me I asked him. He cared to know. I liked that he seemed to actually care. He laughs when something is funny, smiles when not so much. He is pleasant. Fun. Likes to joke, but not to hurt. He cares too much to hurt, it seems. So you feel safe, comfortable. Meaning you can truly enjoy yourself in his company. I think he doesn't know how genuine he is...how caring...calm. Just tries to be a true friend. Perhaps this is too much to glean from 15 minutes of initial conversation. Perhaps. But you can decide when he walks into your party. You will speak to him, and he will ask "how's your family," and he will look you in the eye, and he will wait, looking, waiting for the answer, because he really wants to know. He cares. I'd like to meet Bill again. Hang out.
That's who I met tonight.
I met this guy, Bill, tonight at a party. I met others also, as there were 15 of us there, mostly strangers mingling, but tonight, journal, I'll tell you about this Bill.
I enjoy the company of genuine personalities and so I enjoyed talking with Bill. We spoke of family, he asked me I asked him. He cared to know. I liked that he seemed to actually care. He laughs when something is funny, smiles when not so much. He is pleasant. Fun. Likes to joke, but not to hurt. He cares too much to hurt, it seems. So you feel safe, comfortable. Meaning you can truly enjoy yourself in his company. I think he doesn't know how genuine he is...how caring...calm. Just tries to be a true friend. Perhaps this is too much to glean from 15 minutes of initial conversation. Perhaps. But you can decide when he walks into your party. You will speak to him, and he will ask "how's your family," and he will look you in the eye, and he will wait, looking, waiting for the answer, because he really wants to know. He cares. I'd like to meet Bill again. Hang out.
That's who I met tonight.
A Haircut is NOT Just a Haircut
Yes, I knew this already. I didn't need a lesson in great haircuts versus lame haircuts. But sometimes desperate times call for desperate measures. I've been about 3 months overdue for a haircut and I just finally hit a breaking point. I mean really, growing my hair out is one thing, but all the split ends are another. Yuck.
My regular hair stylist (my niece) is home with her sick baby which means that the clients she cancelled yesterday (my mom included) will be trying to make up those appointments in the upcoming few days that she will be working. And let's face it, I'm not married to the Gilbert location, or the trendy price tag (even with a family rate). So, what do I do? I run down to Supercuts at 7:30 at night because my hair is actually straightened and I think I can show them how I style it and that they will be able to duplicate the cut.
Whatever! I knew when I was explaining it and she said, "so you have some long layers here" that things were not going to turn out correctly. Again, whatever! I just wanted a cut. My question is though, what the heck? What is so different about hair cutting school that says Supercut employees don't know how to cut the new styles?
So here I have a new trimmed doo. It's not nearly as stylish and trendy as it used to be, but hey, it probably fits my personality a little better now. Haha! Really, it's not all that different from before. I'm probably the only one that will notice a difference.
My regular hair stylist (my niece) is home with her sick baby which means that the clients she cancelled yesterday (my mom included) will be trying to make up those appointments in the upcoming few days that she will be working. And let's face it, I'm not married to the Gilbert location, or the trendy price tag (even with a family rate). So, what do I do? I run down to Supercuts at 7:30 at night because my hair is actually straightened and I think I can show them how I style it and that they will be able to duplicate the cut.
Whatever! I knew when I was explaining it and she said, "so you have some long layers here" that things were not going to turn out correctly. Again, whatever! I just wanted a cut. My question is though, what the heck? What is so different about hair cutting school that says Supercut employees don't know how to cut the new styles?
So here I have a new trimmed doo. It's not nearly as stylish and trendy as it used to be, but hey, it probably fits my personality a little better now. Haha! Really, it's not all that different from before. I'm probably the only one that will notice a difference.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Resomation?
See people, what you have done to me. There are no new posts to read this morning so what am I forced to think about?
Death.
Death and what will I do with myself when I die. I guess, really, what will my family do with me after I die.
I'm just not fond of burial. I don't want my body in some coffin somewhere decaying in an expensive box bought for the sole purpose of putting my lame dead body in. Worse yet, I have this completely irrational fear of being buried alive. I know, I know, it would never happen. But that one Stephen King movie, years ago, still has me sweating the inevitable.
Cremation maybe. I like the idea. Burn me baby, then scatter the ashes. Throw me on a ball field somewhere. If I haven't made it overseas in my lifetime, take me to Greece, Italy, Germany. Throw some ashes in Normandy and Iwo Jima so I can rest in peace with some true heroes of The Greatest Generation. That's what I'm talkin' about baby. Dust to dust, ashes to ashes.
But then there's the eco-friendly part of me that was just informed that cremation leaves a large carbon footprint. Now what's a woman to do?!
Resomation. I first got the idea here in a Time article on really crazy eco-friendly things people/businesses are doing. (If you want to be completely grossed out and also amused, read all the pages of the article. Bra's with reusable chopstick holders to boost your bosom and at the same time the bounce can charge your phone?! Hah.)
(WARNING: all pregnant women and/or squeamish people read at your own risk now. Monique, I warned you last time, and you didn't listen!)
Anyway, with resomation I can have the best of both worlds, I think. But it's gross. I mean really disgusting. Like, I don't even what to think about it but that's OK because I won't have to... I'll be dead. My family will get some ashes because my little bones come through the process unaltered. In fact, they could have a bone-crushing party in my honor because they come out soft enough to crush with your hands. Hmm, fun. The thing is that there is this liquid. This gross, rest-of-your-body-that-wasn't-bone liquid. Eeew! I don't even want to think about what that looks like or smells like. But I guess it's good fertilizer so plant me a dedicatory garden and watch my flowers bloom! I'll be a beautiful sunflower, many colorful daisies, or a gorgeous rose bush.
Now doesn't that sound a lot better than a chemical-filled body buried in a box somewhere with a piece of concrete over it that says, "Here lies H, hopefully she wasn't alive when we put her in there."
Death.
Death and what will I do with myself when I die. I guess, really, what will my family do with me after I die.
I'm just not fond of burial. I don't want my body in some coffin somewhere decaying in an expensive box bought for the sole purpose of putting my lame dead body in. Worse yet, I have this completely irrational fear of being buried alive. I know, I know, it would never happen. But that one Stephen King movie, years ago, still has me sweating the inevitable.
Cremation maybe. I like the idea. Burn me baby, then scatter the ashes. Throw me on a ball field somewhere. If I haven't made it overseas in my lifetime, take me to Greece, Italy, Germany. Throw some ashes in Normandy and Iwo Jima so I can rest in peace with some true heroes of The Greatest Generation. That's what I'm talkin' about baby. Dust to dust, ashes to ashes.
But then there's the eco-friendly part of me that was just informed that cremation leaves a large carbon footprint. Now what's a woman to do?!
Resomation. I first got the idea here in a Time article on really crazy eco-friendly things people/businesses are doing. (If you want to be completely grossed out and also amused, read all the pages of the article. Bra's with reusable chopstick holders to boost your bosom and at the same time the bounce can charge your phone?! Hah.)
(WARNING: all pregnant women and/or squeamish people read at your own risk now. Monique, I warned you last time, and you didn't listen!)
Anyway, with resomation I can have the best of both worlds, I think. But it's gross. I mean really disgusting. Like, I don't even what to think about it but that's OK because I won't have to... I'll be dead. My family will get some ashes because my little bones come through the process unaltered. In fact, they could have a bone-crushing party in my honor because they come out soft enough to crush with your hands. Hmm, fun. The thing is that there is this liquid. This gross, rest-of-your-body-that-wasn't-bone liquid. Eeew! I don't even want to think about what that looks like or smells like. But I guess it's good fertilizer so plant me a dedicatory garden and watch my flowers bloom! I'll be a beautiful sunflower, many colorful daisies, or a gorgeous rose bush.
Now doesn't that sound a lot better than a chemical-filled body buried in a box somewhere with a piece of concrete over it that says, "Here lies H, hopefully she wasn't alive when we put her in there."
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Free Photo Shoot Anyone?
If you live in the Phoenix area and are interesting in a free photo shoot, check this out:
http://ashmadsen.blogspot.com/2009/02/drumroll-please.html
I can't wait to win and get my first professional pictures taken of Tasha and I. It was a fluke that Kyra and I had pictures taken right before she turned 5. Then I realized that the picture of Bill and Billy on the wall was taken when Billy was 5. Well, Tasha turns 5 at the end of the month so I have to keep up the tradition.
Ashley Madison Photography, I'll give you a try, thanks to "mamamuniz". Great idea for a 100th post!
http://ashmadsen.blogspot.com/2009/02/drumroll-please.html
I can't wait to win and get my first professional pictures taken of Tasha and I. It was a fluke that Kyra and I had pictures taken right before she turned 5. Then I realized that the picture of Bill and Billy on the wall was taken when Billy was 5. Well, Tasha turns 5 at the end of the month so I have to keep up the tradition.
Ashley Madison Photography, I'll give you a try, thanks to "mamamuniz". Great idea for a 100th post!
Monday, March 2, 2009
Eggs with Bleu Cheese?
I wanted to cook some eggs this morning but was tired of the same old fried eggs. I'm not a big fan of the scrambled version but thought maybe I could spice them up a little. I LOVE LOVE LOVE bleu cheese (just became a fan this year) and considered adding it to the eggs. Does that sound weird? Eggs with bleu cheese? I thought it did so I passed since I realized I had bought some feta cheese on Saturday. Now, if I'm in love with bleu cheese, I adore feta cheese. I worship feta. I would kiss the feet of the feta God that brought me this wonderful cheese. Anyway, scrambled eggs, feta cheese, and a dash of Greek spices. What more could a girl ask for for breakfast? (A personal chef and dishwasher? Maybe, but I won't push my luck.)
Maybe I was thinking of Seuss this morning... Bleu eggs and ham?! Oh Sam I am. I will not try them on a bus, I will not try them with cousin Gus. I will not eat them with my dog, I'd really rather own a hog. I would not like them here or there, I would not like them anywhere. I do not like blue eggs and ham, I do not like them Sam I am. Happy Birthday Seuss!
Maybe I was thinking of Seuss this morning... Bleu eggs and ham?! Oh Sam I am. I will not try them on a bus, I will not try them with cousin Gus. I will not eat them with my dog, I'd really rather own a hog. I would not like them here or there, I would not like them anywhere. I do not like blue eggs and ham, I do not like them Sam I am. Happy Birthday Seuss!
Sunday, March 1, 2009
A Thousand Splendid Apologies
As I posted yesterday to celebrate a birthday, I realized that I had forgotten a very special friends very special day. It was a while ago. I don't even know the date for sure. I do know that I even saw her on her birthday, took something from her, and didn't even acknowledge that she was special. What a totally lame friend I am! What did she think that day that I called her and said, "Can I come over and borrow that awful book on Afghanistan from you?" Did she think it was an excuse to visit her and bring her flowers and cookies and all sorts of treasures? Was she hoping to get a big hug and sweet card from her friend? Probably not, but what if?! Oh crap, I blew it. That's all I've got. I know she doesn't really care because she's still talking to me. Maybe someday I'll feel inspired to post all the wonderful things about her but now all I feel is remorse. So, sweet Sara, here are a thousand splendid apologies and the things I will offer you for my ineptness of remembering you on your birthday. This year, from me, you will get (and please don't count them):
- A thousand chocolate chips, baked in cookies, or eaten raw in dough
- A thousand belly laughs
- A thousand empathetic nods
- A thousand emails
- A thousand thoughtful words of encouragement
- A thousand cleaned dishes
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