Pavlov's 3 year old

Okay, so you know those dogs? The ones that salivated when they heard the bell? I have founf that three year olds can be conditioned similarly.

So, when E first made the transition from crib to bed, we had to put a child handle on the inside doorknob of his bedroom so he would not "escape." (He sometimes slept on the floor and not in the bed, but he did not by any means get away.) Recently we removed these Blessings from Heaven from his personal doorknobs. However, I have found that once we shut his door, he will not come out of his room unless we tell him to. (Insert Hallelujah Chorus here).

But here's the weird part: It's like he doesn't think he can open the door. Doo-doo-doo-doo. (Twilight Zone music if you couldn't tell).

Okay, I know that that's not exactly true, but take today for instance. I was totally tired from getting up early, so I decided that all in the house should take a nap. (Especially after S dropped the phone on my head as I attempted to sleep while trying to distract them with Teletubbies). So S went down fairly easily and E of course just played in his room. However, after being in there for an hour he started calling for me. He kept saying, "milk, please," and "Mommy, I would like some milk." Over and over and over again. I feared he would go down and try to get some himself, but he would not come out of his room. He would open his door, make his request and then shut it again.

It was not until I managed to wake myself up (do you ever try to wake up, but can't? It's a weird phenomena that happens to me sometimes-- I am aware of my surroundings, but I can not move or wake up, anyway) and call out to him that he actually came out of his room.

A similar thing happened on that other day. He was in his room, until he heard me crying on the phone to the hub, at which point he opened his door and asked, "What's the matter, dear?" (Funny in itself). But he still stood in his room until I told him he could come out.

So anyway. Maybe not that interesting to you. But I find amusement in it.

Better Day

Today has been a good day.

My house looks like poop, but it has still been a pretty good day.

Last night when I was telling Charming about my awful day, I found myself going over all the cute funny things the kids did. I realized it wasn't so bad. And I felt really shameful about how I behaved yesterday. I think that helped make today better. Plus I decided not to stress about stuff. Like keeping the house clean or being a creatively fun mom.

Ethan even said wow when I was sweeping up. He recognized my mad broom skills.

So I was talking to the Daring One today and thinking about all the cool things she does up there in the rainy place with her posse. It got me thinking about that mom's group that I am not going to join. Maybe I'll just start my own. Call it the Cool Mom's Club. Or maybe,the No Socially Inept, Unfriendly Mom's Allowed Club. Or that should be one of the requirements anyway. Yeah, sounds good.

I miss the rainy place today. But I am still happy anyway.

Sleep

I am not a morning person.

I would love to be able to get up in the morning before my children do. It would be so wonderful to be able to do a little reading, meditate, ponder and freshly begin my day. People who say they get up before their children, I am convinced, have children that sleep through the night by three months and have children that wake up after the sun comes up. Or, they are crazy. Not sure which.

I could never get up before my kids for several reasons:

1. I am not a morning person. I wake up slowly and am groggy for the first hour of my awake-ness.

2. Do you know what time my kids get up? (Hint: Before the sun rises....)

3. I am a sleep fiend. Here is an idea of the kind of sleep I need:
11 hours: divine
10 hours: heavenly
9 hours: wonderful
8 hours: minimum
7 hours: pushing it
6 hours: non-functioning, nausea, achiness, tyranny, unhappy mom

So, there you go. I would love to, but it will not happen.

Also, I love it when my children love me and want me. But not at 6 am. At 6 am they can have Daddy. Mommy is not available. (Okay, so I am available if I feel really bad for them, like this morning. Of course, now I am feeling bad. Not enough zzzzz's.)

Hopefully today goes better than yesterday!

Today Bites

Well, in case you were wondering, today has pretty much been crappy.

The house: a mess.

The children: made said mess

The mom: a mess

I am officially the world's meanest, most unhappy mom. (Yes, I am trying a little no anti-depressant experiment). My throat is sore from all the yelling. I yelled when they spilled orange juice on the floor, and then when they did it two more times. I yelled at myself when I couldn't figure out how to hang the new curtains. I yelled when they didn't do what I asked them to do.

I even tried to do something "fun" with them and it just turned out awful. I ended up getting more frustrated than I had any fun.

I am an awful mom and I can't figure out what is wrong with me. :(

Sorry that this is not very happy or upbeat.

I probably shouldn't even post it.

But I am going to anyway.

Not a halfway gal

Okay, so I think my problem is this: I can't do things half way. It's all or nothing for me.

Example 1: My house.

People say, "relax, get used to having a semi-messy house." Well, for me, I am either going to keep it very clean or it's going to hell in a handbasket. I can't just have it semi-clean. When it gets dirty, my tendency is to just throw up my hands and be done with it. Let the tornado come! I am never going to clean again! The extreme clean aint happening with toddlers, and the messy mess is well, messy(and existent most of the time).

Example 2:Creative Memories.

In my life as a sales person so far, I have discovered that I am a wretchid, rotten salesperson. This is mostly because I have a hard time separating my emotions from the business side of things. This is one of those businesses that in order to sustain it, you really have to go at it. Well, after going at it for awhile, I get depressed when it isn't turning out just right. My inclination? Walk away. Break the wrist and walk away. This is no way to go about things I am convinced.

Example 3: ummmm

Okay, well there is no example three. Well, okay, Christmas Decorations. Right now, I have one measly little light up tree in my front window. It looks kinda silly. All out there alone, a sort of half hearted, cheapo way of showing my neighbors my holiday spirit. It is pitiful. I am either going to take it down, or find a way to decorate the front of our house like a landing strip. Just no in between, folks.

What is my problem? I am constantly going from one extreme to the other. Can you tell I am not having a great day? Maybe tomorrow I'll be cheery and happy. Maybe tomorrow I'll be bluer than bluey blue. Maybe tomorrow we'll make a million dollars, and then I can be a lady of leisure and get a maid. Maybe tomorrow.... Well, you get it. Unknown. Wild.

Any ideas on getting some balance here?

Monday Morning Confessions

Get Ready!

1. I'm not going to win NANOWRIMO
Can we hear the death knell? Sorry, guys. I have just under 25,000 words and you know what? I aint gonna make it. But I am happy. I have done more than I ever have on one of my "novels" and I know I will finish this one now. Just not by November 30th.

2. I have a cross nasal contamination fear
Okay, maybe this is gross, but, oh well. I sometimes get nosebleeds, so in order to prevent them I put vaseline in my nostrils each night before bed using a Q-tip. (Yes, I use the name brand, all else do not meet the standard.) I use one end for one nostril and the other end for the other nostril. One tip must never be used in both nostrils. That would be just, well, gross, I guess. As if there is such a thing as cross nasal contamination.

3. After a lovely Thanksgiving, I am glad to be home
I was really glad we saw family over the holiday, but I waffle a bit sometimes, you know. When I got to Washington, I was all, "Ooooh, I wish we lived here." Then as we were leaving I felt happy to be away, living my own life. Then on the 12 hour turned 14 hour drive because of pooty road conditions, I was like, "yeah, maybe living close to family would be good." But after we got home to our sparkly clean house, I was oh so happy to be home. Because like it or not, this is our home, here in Utah. And it really is starting to feel more like it. :) Thank goodness.

My mommy has high speed internet

Well, we made it to the Evergreen State. 12 hours. 2 toddlers. 1 magic DVD player. And Teletubbies. Wonderful, wonderful, life saving Teletubbies.

All in all, a pretty good trip.

The children woke up at 5:30 am Washington time this morning. I was grateful they made the change to Pacific Standard Time instead of their usual Mountain Standard Time, otherwise we would have been up at 4:30 am. As it is, we are currently hanging out downstairs in my mom's basement (where we slept) and waiting out the morning until a reasonable time when other people won't mind being woken up.

Which brings me to the reason I am posting.

My mommy has high speed internet. At home we use dial-up. This is fine because dial-up only costs us 10 dollars a month. But oh, how I love the high speed. Now that I am here and using it, I realize what it is that I truly want in this life. I have a need for speed.

I don't know if the high speed will make me spend less time on the internet or more. But I think probably I could spend less time, since I wouldn't waste countless minutes waiting for things to load. I got a tiny tingle up my spine this morning when I went to a few blogs and they came up instantly. With all their pictures and everything.... Ooo-hoo-hoo--hoo. It gives me shivers just thinking about it. I love it, love it, love it! I must find a way to have a high speed connection of my very own....

Charming said we could only get it if we needed it for business or something. Give us some business if you want to help me out....

My house looks good, but don't open the closet

I believe very strongly in the "visual clean."

This means that when in a hurry to get the house sparkly and fresh looking (like yesterday, since I am priming for a road trip) I focus on getting clutter out of sight, cleaning the floors and countertops, making beds, but not necessarily on organization. If something doesn't have a place, but I am sick of looking at it, it gets shoved into a drawer, cupboard, pantry or closet.

During "visual cleaning" time, I avoid unloading the dishwasher and folding laundry. Dishes in a dishwasher are out of sight and so is laundry in the dryer. Laundry needing folding but not in the dryer can easily be put in a basket and shoved in a closet, to be Dealt with Later. Oh, how I love the visual clean.

So, while right now, I have a great looking house-- very clean, very fresh-- don't open the closet, or the drawers or the pantry. They are not clean, not organized and very messy. But, I don't care. All I care about is the visual clean. The visual clean makes me feel peaceful and content. When my house is visually clean, I am a Very Happy Mom. A Very Happy Mom, indeed.

Fessing Up

Here we go:

1. It's 9 am and my children have already eaten play dough and ice cream
E was feeding small bits of play dough to S. I was shocked. Then E got the ice cream out of the freezer, and said, "Look, I found it! I found ice cream!" After their second scoop and they wanted more, I did insist that they eat cereal instead. This went over better than expected.

2. I have a hard time being content with where I am at
I think I get this from my mom. She has had numerous jobs, for one reason or another, she wasn't happy with them and quit. During her last job search she complained that no one wanted to hire her because of her "history." She's been at her new job about a month now and recently said to me, "They have mice here. I don't know how much longer I can take this job." I love you Mom!

3. I sometimes feel guilty about how blessed I am
I don't know why this is. But right now, I have a couple of friends with bad marriages/impending divorce and I have a friend who's been married over ten years and hasn't been able to have children. I just feel bad. Like, I am flaunting my blessings if I talk about my kids or my hub.

4. I pretty much "have it all" but, I still want more
Is this bad? Yes, I think it is. I have great kids, a great hub, a great house, yada yada. But what I really want is to be in Washington living near my extended family, and this keep sme from being really happy. I think this goes back to number 2. Any ideas on how I can work on this?

5. I just saw Star Wars III: Revenge of the Sith and I can't stop thinking about it
It was great! It dealt with so many universal themes, like creating what you fear, and how you can't control everything, and oh! I just can't get it out of my mind. The storytelling was so excellent and seamless. Loved it!

6. This is not really a confession, but I have seen one of these in my neighborhood.
Am I the first? Anyone else seen one?

My Creative Memories DEE-ZASTER

I had my Creative Memories Open House today.

Disaster. Major Disaster. I have fallen into a depressed little hole of rejection and failure.

I spent too much money getting the thing set up for one. Money for the motivating free gift to give attendees. Money for the 200+ flyers I took to everyone's house. Money for the refreshments....

I spent too much time on it. Time getting my house clean. Time going to borrow stuff from my upline. Time to make the refreshments. Time to distribute 200 flyers. Four hours spent sitting around come show time.

Two people came.

Two.

NEVER AGAIN.

And the thing that makes it worse is that everyone else keeps saying how easy it is to do this.

Yo! Have Joy.

My children have been playing with the Christmas decorations. I walked in the front room, and saw (no joke) this:



It should look like this:



So, YO! Have joy.

This is not to be here

Okay, so today is supposed to be a non-computer/internet/blog day.

But, out of necessity, this will not be so, as I have An Announcement.

It's been two years, but today it happened. I received a visit from Aunt Flo. This is good and bad as it means several things:

1. I am not pregnant. :)

2. My crazy, sobbing, screaming, stomping moods can be attributed to Flo's visit :}

3. I am having crazy, sobbing, screaming, stomping moods. :(

That said, I went to this Mom's Club thing today, and I have officially decided not to join up with them. It's not a good fit for me, I don't think. Of the twenty, two ladies have been friendly to me, and I as am having a hard time making friends here as it is, I just don't think I need to be with a group where I have to exert massive efforts to get to know people.

When we got home the kids were crabby, and then I stepped in a puddle of water on the floor. In trying to determine where the water came from, I discovered it was not water at all.

No, my friends, not water. Not water at all. He-who-will-not-be-named left a fluid on the floor. It was not water. Not water at all. Nuff said.

But in other news, I earned some commission from Barefoot Books. $7.74, people. Big money. Of course I will never see the money until I earn about $30 in commission. Which means if I want my $7.74, I have to keep selling their books. Hmmm.....

Well, my Creative Memories open house is tomorrow. I put out almost 200 flyers. I fear no one will come. This will make me sad, I am sure. But-- we are going to Washington on Wednesday and we got a DVD player for the car so I AM PUMPED!

Hope everyone else is having a less weird day than I am.

A gift to you

My friend came over this morning to visit another friend with me (for the Mormons-- we were going visiting teaching). I was not ready to go and my house was a disaster. While in my frazzled rush to get going I said to her, "tell me your house looks like this sometimes, too." She said, "my house looks like this all the time. It actually makes me feel kind of good to see someone elses house like this." So there you go. That's what I've been saying for years. So, to all my faithful readers, a gift:





I hope it brings you JOY!

Funny E

E has learned how to wink, apparently. He was looking at Charming this morning saying, "Look at my Eye, Daddy! Look at my Eye." He looked like he was squinting really hard, then he said, "It's sleeping!" and then he laughed.

In other news, last night during the only time I had to work on NANOWRIMO, I kept getting phone calls. I never get calls! So, I fell short of my daily word count, but I did have some fun conversations, so that was good.

NANOWRIMO word count: 23, 663

I am oven burner operation challenged

Okay, so we've been in our new house with our new oven for, like, 4 1/2 months now, right? Apparently, I am still having difficulty remembering which knob goes to which burner-- even though they are clearly marked.

Well, so today I-- ah heck, I'll just show you the pictures:

I was making french toast and bacon you see, and I needed to quickly put the butter onto the grill so I flung the lid onto the burner in my haste. The burner at the time was not on. I then put the bacon pan onto the rear burner and turned on the front burner, the wrong burner so it turned out-- yes I turned on the burner where the lid to my margarine substitute was. A disaster of these proportions has not occurred since high school when I forgot I was making ramen and the water boiled off. The pan burned clear through, hot metal dripping into the well, drip pans, actually. I remember the house smelled like metal for a long time. This was not as bad as that, but I may still need to replace the burner. And I feel like a total dork.

The Boy

So, E had a little friend over yesterday--K. It was fun. E loves K and K loves him back. Check out a piece of this conversation:

E: K, do you need to go potty?
K:No
E: Why not?
K: (Silence)
E: K, look me in the EYES! Do you need to go potty?
K: No.
E: Do you want to change your diaper?

Hmmm.... Think there's been a lot of potty talk in our house lately?

Okay, so then this morning, we were upstairs when Charming left via the garage. We heard the garage door opening and had this conversation:

E: What's that?
Me: The Garage Door.
E: Bronto- saur
Me: (Yes it kind of sounds like a dinosaur) No, Ga-Rage Door
E: Rama store?
Me: No, G-a R-age Door
E: Rama store, bronta saur, rama store, bronta saur

I am pretty sure at this point they both thought we were going to the Rama Store since S wanted her coat and E started begging for his.

And a bit later this morning I hear the dreaded screams and whines from little S. I look over and see her sliding across the vinyl flooring holding onto a small lunch box with E at the other end. It would have been quite funny had the mute button been on. Needless to say, E took a time out, and I called Charming to find out that none had eaten breakfast. Hmm... That explained a lot of the whiny-ness. After the time out I forced E to the table, (he was screaming NO BREAKFAST!) where he ate 3 bowls of cereal.

S however dumped 2 bowls on the floor and ate but one bowl.

NANOWRIMO count: 21,477

Education and Being a Good Mom

I need to not be blogging right now, but this has been bugging me and I just have to get it out there. After this I will get back to my regularly scheduled life.

I want to start a music class/pre-school for 2 1/2- 3 year olds. I want to do it to get my kids in some kind of structured music environment and also make a little extra money. I want to do 2-3 year olds because there really isn't much out there for them in terms of preschool and I think some parents want/need it. E turned 3 in October, so there you go.

I talked to a friend today who also does a pre-school. She is a dear woman whom I adore and admire. Talking to her today, however we got in a bit of a disagreement. I feel bad about it, but still think that I am right. The debate was whether or not parents would want to be away from their 2 year olds for four hours a week. Here's how it went down:

She: I just wouldn't want to be away from my 2 year old that much a week. You're a stay-at-home mom for a reason-- what would be the point if you are going to send them off for four hours a week?

Me: I see what you are saying, but I think it is only your opinion. When I had my postpartum depression, I would have loved to have four hours away, because I had such a hard time handling my life.

Okay, so it was close to that. But here's the thing, and you may or may not agree, I do much better as a mom when I have time away from my kids. (Naptime does not count.) Not necessarily because I need the "me time" but more because when I am absent from the children for an hour or two, I miss them a little. When I get back I appreciate them more--I play with them more. When they are with me all the time (maybe this makes me a bad mom) it's easy to sort of ignore them and let them do their own thing. So for me, if I had four hours a week away from E (or even S at her wee 15 months) I would be in Heaven, and I guarantee they would get way more quality time with mom.

Okay, so the other thing is this-- my friend's preschool curriculum doesn't focus on academics at all. It focuses mainly on social skills and I think that is really cool. Rock on. However, her reasoning is this: why teach them the alphabet when they are just going to learn it in kindergarten? This attitude I take issue with.

My son knew his alphabet and all his numbers by age 2. At three he knows upper case, lower case, and most of the sounds they make. In this I think he is somewhat exceptional,and he mostly learned it by his own choice, but as a parent I am concerned that his education challenge him enough. Saying that "they'll just learn it in kindergarten" sort of dumbs things down a bit, don't you think? Shouldn't we say, "let's teach it now, and hold our education system to a higher standard"? I think American schools don't expect enough of children as it is.

My friend Andrea is sending her daughter to a private school because her daughter Et, at four year old struggled with her alphabet-- mostly that she was not interested in it. Now at 5, in kindergarten, she is reading. Isn't that great? Andrea is going to start sending her son to the same school because he is not doing as well in our public education system.

Now, being that I cannot afford private school, I might send my chickadees to a charter school. Andrea doesn't like the idea of charter schools, because she doesn't want to have to be involved. Her reasoning, which I also don't agree with, is that teachers go to school so they can be educators, so that she can send her children to school and let them be taught by the experts. But shouldn't we be involved as parents in the education of our children? Her not wanting to help out is because she has another young child, but I don't know. I would still want to be involved-- hey maybe while she volunteers at her kid's school, she could bring her two year old to my school. There you go. Four hours a week. Very useful.

Am I way out there?

NANOWRIMO count: 19631

Some Confessions (Yes, I know it's Tuesday)

Here we go, better late than never....

1. I have fallen behind on my NANOWRIMO
I know! No need for scolding. But S did have croup.... I still wrote then actually, I slowed down after she got better. Last night I was OFFICIALLY out of steam for the project but then I managed to get in another 1500 words or so. So it continues.

2. I have more dreams about ex-boyfriends than I do about my husband
Here's the thing with this one folks-- when I wake up I realize that the "ex" really was the hub, and the hub of the dream was an "ex" who I can't stand. I feel badly about these dreams, but what can I do? I think what it is is that I think of Charming as kind of a summation of all the boyfriends I've had. Does that make sense? He is like the perfect blend of all of them. Hence, why I chose him to marry. That and he proposed...

3. Whenever I hear the baby crying I assume the boy has done something to her
Yes, I am not always in the same room as the children. If I hear S crying or whining, I automatically yell, "E! What did you do to her?" It's horrible I know. I ought to know better too, since I am also an oldest child.

4. I have decided that family is more important than things
This is not a new revelation, nor is it probably much of a confession-- but hear this--one of our goals this year was to buy a house-- something we recently did here in Utah. I am grateful for this house, I love it, and I love home ownership. But after struggling so much with being away from family, I would trade it all to live in a little apartment again if it meant that I had family and a close knit circle of friends nearby.

5. I want to be a millionaire
I should have ended with the other one, since it's all sweet and this is materialistic. I don't love money-- in some ways I think I was happier when we had very little of it. But, being a millionaire would allow us the freedom to live: A.) wherever we wanted, regardless of market values, and B.) travel easily to visit our family and friends all over the country. So really this confession goes along with number 4. I don't want money for the things it can buy, but for what I can do, and the people I can spend time with if I had it.

NANOWRIMO count: 17706 (Not enough!)

Thanksgiving

Well, it looks like we will be going to Washington for Thanksgiving after all.

Charming knows how upset I have been over not being able to see my family for the holiday, so our conversation when I called him at work today went like this:

Me: Are you sure we can't go to Washington for Thanksgiving?
Him:We can.
Me: Really?
Him: Yeah.
Me: I love you.
Him: I love you too, that's why I'm doing this.

So Sweet!

I am not looking forward to the drive up there, but am otherwise very excited.

Yea!!!!!!!

Some Random Thoughts

Well, you'll be glad to know, that S seems to have made a full recovery.

(Insert Hallelujah Chorus)

And now a list of randomness.

1. I found myself saying this to E this week: "Yes, it's fun to play trains, but we probably shouldn't play trains naked. Please, let's at least get some underwear on."

2. I have a skin tag/mole near my underarm that looks like this:

My mother is insistent that I get it, and all others like it removed. I am lazy and haven't done it yet. Today in church, S discovered it and found delight in messing with it. I was half scared/hoping that she'd yank it off. I'd put my arm down, and then she would grab my arm again and twist it to get at the mole. I found it cute, in a bizarre sort of way.

3. To get the above picture I stood in front of a mirror with the digital camera. I also said this to Charming, "hey, take a picture of my mole-- it's for the blog." The picture I took is the one you see above, as it turned out better than the one Charming took.

4. One day E was asking us to sing a song about "dooking." We had no idea what dooking was until we realized he was talking about a song called "Do as I'm Doing."

5. Yesterday the children were in the bathroom when Charming suddenly started screaming at them, "Don't do that! Stop that right now!" and he rushed in there. The volume and the excitedness of his voice made me think perhaps our toddlers were playing with knives, or at the very least E was dunking S's whole head in the toilet. I was surprised to learn that they were merely putting their hands in the toilet, and thankfully I had flushed it just minutes before.

6. Earlier this week while on the phone with Daring Young Mom (for probably the third time all week), E put his firehat on top of his battery powered James train. I had to laugh at a plastic firehat just going around the circular track.

7. Does anyone else have a problem with these Bratz Babyz dolls?

I mean, it's bad enough that most of the dolls for girls today are immodest and trendy, teaching kids at a young age to be materialistic and do what everyone else is doing, but these go too far. They are supposed to be babies and their "diapers" look unmistakably like underwear. And they look very un-baby like anyway. So we're not only sending the message to young girls that they need to look pretty and (yikes) sexy at a young age, but that t-shirts and underwear need to be fashionable. Maybe even that t-shirts and undies make an appropriate outfit. Plus, check this out:

This was on a website for them. Does that look innocent and non-sexual to you? Cause it sure as he** doesn't to me! "The Baby Girls with a Passion for Fashion." What the heck? Since when do babies care about fashion? And since when do little girls wear underwear like that? What happened to Disney Princess panties?
Who would buy these dolls for their children?
I am sickened.
Apparently it is never too early to sell sex.

8. I had a cry today. I am majorly bummed that we can't go home and spend Thanksgiving with my family this year. It's a good 10-12 hour drive and the roads are kind of nasty this time of year. I think the thing that upsets me the most is that everyone else around here has plans, because their family eitherlives in the town over, or they only have to drive a few hours to see them. I just wish someone would adopt our family. At least for Thanksgiving, anyway.

9. And so we don't have to end on a sorrowful note-- what is up with those dolls? Please, tell me I am not taking crazy pills here... Is that not just sick and wrong?

Maybe I am crazy

All right I just read some of Daring Young Mom's posts and laughed my guts out. So now I feel a wee bit guilty posting this post, but hey, this is MY blog. No one makes you read it. (Unless you are Charming, in which case you have NO CHOICE.)

So, for those of you who don't know, I have struggled with post partum depression since the birth of my second child, S. It was very much triggered by some pretty crap-ola circumstances. (IE the hub started a new job in suckville 2 days after she was born, I had no car, he worked long hours, no one came to stay with me, S wouldn't go to sleep at night before 1 am and then was up every two hours, and then a couple months later we picked up and moved back to Utah from Washington within a week.)

My depression got really bad when we came to Utah. Mostly because I had lived in Utah for five years while going to school, and always in my mind, was looking to the day when we would go back to Seattle. We lived in Seattle for 8 months before we came back to Utah. I felt like we had failed, and that I had lost my dream. In a sense, what I was experiencing was grief.

So the other day, I was driving through town and I started to feel really good. I felt like this is home, and I am okay with that. I actually kind of like it here. And the funny thing is today in the middle of feeling good about where we live, I started to get serious anxiety. Like I couldn't let go of my depression-- it's been with me for so long, that I wouldn't know what to do if it left. I felt as though I would be losing a faithful friend if I started to feel better. And also, if I started to enjoy Woods Cross, that I would somehow be betraying Seattle and giving up on the hope that we might someday live there again. Is that strange? I should want to be happy where I am at, shouldn't I?

I don't know, maybe I am a looney. Sorry if this is less than upbeat. Just wanted to send it out there.

Croup and Poop

Day 3 of croup-fest '05.

S slept mostly through the night. (insert sigh of relief) She has already had some unreasonable clinginess this morning. Hopefully this does not continue throughout the day like it did yesterday. Crying, crying, more crying. E felt left out so he did some irrational crying too.

Well, we got flu shots yesterday, did some grocery shopping, and cleaned the house (sort of). Lots of cuddles, no writing on the NANOWRIMO. You win some, you lose some.

And now something completely different...

E wears underwear. He is not what I would define as potty-trained. He needs reminders to go, has never taken the initiative to pee in the toilet without said reminders, and pretty much will go in pants without remorse. That said, he will pee in the toilet but will not poop. He usually poops in his diaper at bedtime and then falls asleep in it. Pooping in the toilet is something we have been working on lately:

Me: Are you making poo-poo in the potty?

E: No. I just make pee-pee. I just make farts.

I can't even type that without laughing. We usually don't use that "f-word" at our house, but lately I have let it slip. Needless to say, I found that a three-year old using the word "fart" hilarious. Maybe I'm a bad influence. I'm probably immature. Oh well.

It has taken a long time to type this entry. The croup child keeps needing cuddles....

Croup-dy Doo

S, as I mentioned has croup. The Croup. Seal bark cough and all.

Yesterday consisted of lots of crying, whining, cuddles, calling Charming (does that look like Charmin, to anyone else?) and pulling him out of meetings, a sanity call to Daring Young Mom, and finally a call to the doctor to make an appointment because I had had ENOUGH.

Amazingly enough-- I did manage to make dinner, vacuum and work on NANOWRIMO. (All these things were done while Charming and S were at the doctor's or sleeping.)

After the Daddy-Daughter Duo got back from the Dr's I went to a SHADE clothing party. If you are worried about baring your midriff or showing off too much cleave-- these shirts are for you. Fabulous undershirts that will give you that layered look, while keeping you modest.

The doctor prescribed some steroids for S. They are little pills we have to crush and then sneak into her food. I was up with S every hour for the first few hours of her nighttime sleep last night as it was agreed it was my turn. All things considered, I am doing pretty well today.

Now I think I am off to do a little holiday internet shopping. Including a stop to buy me a t-shirt.

NANOWRIMO count: (Shockingly) 12,479

The Fun Has Left the Building

Every room in my house looks like a bomb site.

I feel icky.

S has the croup.

Yes, folks, the fun has officially left the building.

NANOWRIMO word count: 10,685

Almost Forgot

It is Monday afternoon, and I almost forgot to fess up. I have avoided the internet today, because I had Things to Do.

1.There is a dead fruit fly in my liquid dish soap
It's true. In the snap open lid on my liquid dish soap there is a dead little insect. We have had the soap since before we had a dishwasher-- in our student family housing days. The bug has been in there since at least then-- I'd say 2 years or so. I could get him out, but he's been in there so long. Why bother him?

2. I do not sit right next to the tub when my toddlers bathe
Most of the time Charming actually bathes the kids, so this usually applies to him, but you know how they always say "sit by the tub, never leave the kid unattended in the bath"? Well, I don't. Now, don't call CPS on me! I usually am in the room, or a room away watching them. They just take such looooong baths. Am I bad mom?

3. I like to pop zits
Yes, it's gross. Don't tell me you don't get sick pleasure from it! Remember that kid in high school who had big nasty zits with huge heads on them? You know who I am talking about-- every high school had at least one. I always just wanted to pop those for him. I am sometimes sad that my big zit days are gone-- almost. I think it's kind of fun to pop one of those babies and watch the zit "juice" hit the mirror. Now that you are thoroughly grossed out, I will stop.

That's all I got.

NANOWRIMO word count: 9910

NANOWRIMO

For those of you who don't know, like some of my other blogging friends, I am attempting to write a novel in one month.

It is supposed to be 50,000 words.

Well, an update.

Friday night, 9:54 p.m. I have 6,821 words. I am tired. I am going to bed.

Perhaps a true novelist would stay up late trying to get to her goal of having 8,000 words at this point, but I am a sucker for my pillow. My obsessive need for sleep may just be my downfall. But sleep, sleep I will. Tomorrow I will have another chance to not catch up on my word count, but tonight I must catch up on my zzzz's.

Eat it.

What's this? It's Reenie-Bean eating her soy-nut butter and jelly sandwich (S has a peanut allergy) with a SPOON!

Did you think it was possible?

I just had to take a picture. She loves her utensils so.

Did seeing the word SPOON! up there like that make anyone else think of The Tick?

Candy and the Wisemen

Just now as I was upstairs on the internet, I heard the unattended children move into the kitchen. Faintly, I heard E say, "lots of candy." Yep. Sure enough when I went down there, he and S had gotten into the candy. But I must say, the young prince was kind enough to give his sister a piece first. She had a lollipop (he was helping her throw away the wrapper) and he was going back for his piece.
So I got out the Little People Christmas set today. Last year when E was into names, we taught him the names of all the Little People. Mary, Joseph, Baby Jesus, and the three wisemen-- Balthazar, Ted and Kim. I was very disappointed when I pulled out the Asian wiseman (Kim) and asked E who it was. He didn't know. Sad day! But! Redemption. I pulled out Joseph. Who's this? He knew. He also knew the angel, Mary and the Baby Jesus. I was bummed that he had forgotten all of the wisemen, but pleased that he remembered the most important figures. Good boy.

An Open Letter to My Post-Baby Breasts

Dear Madams,

First of all, I would like to thank you for your usefulness to me these past three years or so. I am ever grateful for your willingness to feed and soothe my two sweet babies. It has been amazing to me, that with minimal effort on my part (save those first initial weeks, sorry about that) you have been able to manufacture delicious and nutritious food for my children. You are wonderful. Thanks for all the hard work!

I would now like to make some suggestions as to areas in which you could improve.

First, I will be ever grateful to you for the boost in cup size I received during my first pregnancy. But I would like to know if you could take the stretch marks back. I no longer want them, and while it is rather exotic, the excitement of having Tiger Boobs, has worn off.

Secondly, I think I would like to start sending you gals memos to let you know when S will be dropping a feeding. This way we can avoid the little "engorgement" issue we've been having lately. I figure if I drop you some advanced notice, then perhaps you won't make any milk when there will not be any customers at the "dairy." I do appreciate your foresight, but I don't like the engorgement.

Which brings me to my third suggestion. Can you two get it together and start communicating with each other? While one of you is busy making milk, the other one seems to be snoozing on the job, and quite frankly I am tired of being lopsided boob lady. Try and keep your production levels equal, so you match each other in size. This will help me in my clothing options, and maintain my "balance," so to speak.

Also, now that S is over a year, do you think you could stop making milk that tastes good? I want her to want to wean herself, and I thought maybe if you made it taste gross, she'd want to quit sooner. Just curious.

And finally, do you think you'll be returning to your original shape and form soon? I mean, I am amazed at your new stretching and flopping abilities, but it isn't that fun to have to hold onto you both when I go down the stairs or run on the treadmill. I am getting a little annoyed with having to pull you out of my armpits, too. You've become semi-inconvenient to me in this way. But I don't want to rush you-- I myself know it is a little hard to get back into shape. I was just wondering. And hoping.

In conclusion, I wish you both the best. You really are doing quite a fine job and I am looking forward to many more productive years together. And if you heed my advice, we may all be happier, and our relationship is sure to improve.

Best Regards,

Your Body

No Place Like Home

I grew up in the Seattle Area. The Eastide as they called it. I loved it. I loved the rain, and well everything about it. I went to college in Utah and when my husband graduated, we moved back up to Seattle. 8 months later, we were back in Utah. I miss my home. My parents don't live there anymore, so I never really get to go back. Today I was particularly homesick. But there is a reason we do not live there. It is so stinking expensive!
So to make myself feel better I am doing this blog entry.

We live in Utah. Our house looks like this:
:
(We have a front yard now, and less people working on our siding :) )
If we lived in Washington, our house would look like this:


Or perhaps this:

(Since all we could afford is the lot!)

But still I miss it. In Seattle it took Charming an hour to get home. Here it takes ten minutes. Traffic here is piddly. Traffic there is a nightmare. I love it here. I love it there. For different reasons. There are a lot of great things there, that I will not mention so I don't feel bad, and there are crummy things here which I won't mention for the same reason. We may never go back there, and that is sad. But when the market crashes, and house prices drop, we are moving up-- because there's just no place like home.

DI Deals

FIVE DOLLARS, People. I bought this for five dollars, and I am now S's new best friend. And it has a seat on the back too, so E can ride as well.

It's a tradition...

Well, for the third week in a row-- I'm making a few confessions.

1. I love to vaccuum my house.
It is my favorite chore. I don't know what it is, but there is something about seeing everything that it sucks up and then seeing the clean, fresh looking carpet. It gives me small thrills.

2. I don't have cable
Shocking, I know. I don't want to pay for it, and I know I can't justify to Charming since we get so many channels coming in clearly with our rabbit ears. The only channel we don't get is WB,a nd I am really missing my Seventh Heaven. Apparently my neighbor a few houses down gets WB great with her rabbit ears. And she doesn't even care about Seventh Heaven. Go figure.

3. I just now noticed that summer is gone.
Where did it go? It slipped right by me. I guess I didn't notice because our development is young and we don't have mature trees. But here's a lovely picture from Wheeler Farm of me and the kids:

4. I am still breastfeeding my fourteen-month-old.
Okay, so maybe this is not a big deal, or maybe you're like "Eeew, gross!" Whatever. I never thought I'd be still doing it. It doesn't bother me though. I've seen plenty of adults and older children who no longer nurse. She'll eventually be one of them. (Just like how no one has to bribe a 10 year old with M&M's to use the toilet-- at least that's the thought that gives me hope with E).

Well, I think that's about all the skeletons I am going to let out today-- speaking of skeletons-- HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Here's a blast from the Halloween past:



(I'm the ghost on the left with my little ghost dog. I think I got the idea from the Disney Movie Child of Glass.)

And here's this year's costume:

I am going as a dorky mom! Okay, not really. This is me at the dinosaur park. I just thought it was kind of funny and Halloween-ish.
Until tomorrow!

Bathroom Time is never my own

Today I decided to treat myself: I used the toilet with the door closed. Moments later I was privileged to see this:


(No, I did not have my camera with me on the can. This was "staged" so I could get a shot for the blog. And if you must know, this is on the other side of the bathroom.)

Anyway. So I have come to this conclusion: bathroom time is not my own. (I pretty much knew this). If I close the door, the little people will still be on the other side, trying to get in.

Trunk or Treat

So here I am thinking it has been FOR-EV-ER since I posted and then I look and see that I posted yesterday. Something is wrong with my sense of time.

Last night was trunk-or-treat at church. For those unfamiliar, people line up their cars in the parking lot, decorate their trunks and kids "trunk" or treat to get candy. E went as a fireman, and S was his dalmation puppy. They were cute. I was somewhat disappointed however, since after three years, it appears that E still does not get Halloween. (I think S has a better understanding. )

Me: Say trick or treat
E: (blank stare)
Me: Do you want some candy?
E: (blank stare)
(They hand him candy)
Me: Say thank you.
E: Thank you.

I then have to persuade him to walk to the next car. Every fourth car or so we have to stop and put the candy that E is clutching to his chest into his bag. With S the trick or treating went like this:

Me: Say trick or treat.
S:(Mumbles some kind of jarbled baby-speak and dives for the candy bowl)
Me: Say thank you.
S:Tak too.

When we got home we dumped out all the candy onto the floor to "de-peanut-ify" since S is allergic to peanuts. The kids almost lost their minds. The sight of all that candy on the floor made them shake their little hands and do little toddler dances. Of course then E and S wanted to open every piece, try it, toss it and get more. They did this a little bit until I decided it was too much stickiness for me.

Fortunately, I think they have forgotten that we have so much candy in our house. But we still have Halloween coming, and they will soon be reminded.

Cheese and Whine

Apparently string cheese is cannibalistic. Today I caught E giving string cheese a sip of milk. He was putting the straw up to the cheese's "lips" and saying, "want some milk?"

Right now, no one in my house is doing what they are supposed to be doing. I am supposed to be cleaning, since our house looks like a bomb went off and there is Creative Memories stuff spreadout EVERYWHERE. However, I am here. Blogging. E is supposed to be taking a nap. I can hear him playing in his room. S is also to be napping. She is screaming her head off. I continue to type and ignore. I hate it when naptime goes down like this. They need the sleep. I need the break. No one gets it but me.

Why is that?

Conversation with E

Me: You're silly.

E: No, you're silly.

Me: No, you're silly.

E: No, I not silly, you're silly.

Me: You're silly

E: I'm crazy.

Yes, yes you are.

Little People

Got my Fisher-Price Holiday 2005 catalog in the mail today. Always fun. And for those who have been disappointed in the past there is exciting news! The nativity set now has shepherds!
Some observations:

The cover and first page of the catalog are dedicated to the nativity set. The pagan Christmas (Santa etc) then takes up pages 2-7. Why Santa gets more pages is beyond me. Hanukkah Celebration, sadly, has been demoted from last year's full page to an inset on the first page of the current catalog. (Guess they had to make room for the new shepherds). Even though I am not Jewish, I am considering getting this set, since they have a fridge, an oven and a tasty looking spread. Anyway.

So about the new shepherds. Two things that bug me. 1. There is an ugly looking historically inaccurate dog that comes with them. 2. The shepherds are dark skinned while Joseph and Mary are CLEARLY Caucasian. Don't be confused here, I am not racist. I am just unsure why when they decided to make the shepherds more realistic (except for the dog) that they did not "adjust" Mary and Joseph as well.

Other than that I am excited. As soon as Charming gets paid again, I'm getting me some shepherds!

Spare Parts

So, here it is, a fact of life: babies and toddlers play with their "parts." Their own usually, and hey, it's not a big deal. They are just curious and fascinated with a body part that usually only appears at bath time and diaper changes. I am okay with that. Sometimes I giggle, but I am okay with it.

Today, during one of E's diaper changes, S decided to fiddle with E's part. Not a big deal except that E had poos in that "area" and it stressed me out. Had to disinfect little S. .....

AND!

I came up with some strange solutions to this problem, but after I published them Prince Charming said I shouldn't have, so sorry, this was a lot more interesting before he censored it.

Of course, you might have stopped reading my blog if I had let the original content go unedited.

Poem

I saw the most beautiful sight in the world tonight--
I'm lucky to view it every night--
My little boy asleep.
I couldn't help but crawl into bed beside him
A few moments, and then away,

But I'll be back tomorrow.

Forgotten Confession and Tip Day Tuesday

Kathryn has asked that today's tip be on how to get rid of telemarketers. I have just signed up on the national do not call registry. No more silly calls.

Okay so I forgot to make a confession yesterday. Here it is, number 6:

I derive small pleasure from seeing other people's homes a mess.

This is not because I am like, "Ha, ha, yours is dirty mine is clean." Far from it! It's just that it makes me feel good-like I am not the only imperfect one. Even if I drop by a friend's and her house is not what I would define as "a mess" I still feel a wee bit gleeful if she thinks that it is. Messy homes are an equalizer. They make me feel like my friends and neighbors are more real. At least, it makes me feel more normal. It also helps me to realize I am not living in some kind of sparkling clean countertop, ne'er a toy in sight, twilight zone. Real life brings mess. Real people--real moms anyway- cannot always be in control of it. So I just want to say to everyone: Yea for your messy house! You are normal! Your messy house boosts your neighbor's self esteem! Of course mine probably REALLY boosts self-esteem, but that's missing the point I think.

Monday Morning Confessions

Fessing up again. It's Monday morning.

1. I like chocolate cake for breakfast.
After my birthday party, we still had about half of my half sheet of cake left. This is not a good thing. Well, it kind of is, because I love chocolate cake for breakfast. And lunch. And after dinner. I know, "say oink." Oink, oink.

2.I have warts
Gross, yes I know. I have had a big plantar's wart on the bottom of my foot since I was pregnant with my son, over three years ago. It's disgusting-- and I have tried everything, outside of consulting a physician, to make it go away.

3. I would rather go to the gynecologist than the dentist.
It's true. I can't handle all that scraping and picking inside my ever so sensitve mouth. I get the jibblies just thinking about it.

4. I think underground parking garages are scary.
Have you ever noticed that in movies and on tv, nothing good ever happens in a parking garage? Every time I am walking to or from my car in a parking garage, I get a little anxious about being mugged or shot at. Is that weird? I don't know. But yes, I find parking garages a little unnerving.

5. I have unintentionally taught my children to kiss us on the mouth
Maybe it's weird, but I remember kissing my parents on the mouth. E started doing it about a year ago, and I just thought it was cute. My husband won't let him do it to him, but I don't really mind. S does it too-- only hers are open mouth. (I keep mine shut!) She's only 14 months, but I'm still thinking we need to curb this little habit...

Well, there you go. If you have decided to give up on my blog because of these "skeletons" well, I can't say I'd blame ya. (Well, maybe I would. If I thought these were really bad, I don't think I would have disclosed them HERE.) Well, Happy Monday! And may all your confessions leave you feeling lightened of your load.

Birthday

Well over all, today was a great birthday.

Checked my email this morning to find birthday wishes from Clairol and also an actual person friend. Somewhat disappointing (happy for Christy's email), but the day improved.

After buying the cutest baby dress ever, we went to a baby shower for my husband's brother's wife, Kali. We played baby shower pictionary. I got to draw "rectal thermometer."

Then we came home and cleaned up the house and had my party. Some friends from high school came, some college roommates, and my good friend Andrea came with her family. Everyone came at kind of staggered intervals, so I got good one-on-one time with all. It was great.

The best gift I got was from the hub who made me a cute card and poem which ended by saying his real gift is that he's going to get me a diamond for my wedding ring.

Then I got my cards in the mail. My mom sent me her old wedding ring, so that I can use the diamond in my setting. Cha-ching. I also got cards from my dad and dad-in-law. Cha-ching. Now I have a diamond and enough money to do Creative Memories. It was a pretty good twenty-fifth.

And the kids were well-behaved all day.

And they enjoyed the cake.

Funny Hubby and Turning 25

My husband and I went on a "date" this morning. As we were about to leave we had the following conversation:

Mike: Oh, youre not wearing make-up?
Me: Do I need it?
Mike: Oh, not at all. (Then he adds this) That's the only answer I could give.
Me: Well, you didn't need to add that.
Mike: Well, I could have said of course you need it, which would not have been true AT ALL.
Me: You're doing pretty good this morning.

He's cute.

Moving on.

Tomorow is my birthday. For anyone thinking of me-- here is the cake I want:
It will be chocolate, and fabulous, and much, much larger than this image. (Oh yeah, and in the perfect world, it would be 10 calories and taste like 400).

Here are some gift ideas:






(It doesn't have to be this maid necessarily. Any old maid who will cook and clean for me will do.)



And of course:



Now, if you can't afford any of these, don't agree with indentured servitude, don't have the power to turn sticks into trees or don't want to be held responsible for my husband's wrath should a puppy arrive on our doorstep-- a plain old happy birthday will do. I'll take what I can get.

Reverse Psychology

E loves his milk.

He still asks for it when he wakes in the middle of the night, and sometimes has a bit before taking a nap. It is his comfort food. He occasionally asks for it before he goes to bed at night, but we don't like to let him have it because of the cavity causing implications. So we have tried to be tough in the past year and a half, and he usually goes to bed without it.

Last night before we said prayers he asked for milk:

E: Milk?

Me: No, you can't have milk. Would you like some water?

E: No water! Milk!

Me: No milk. You can have water. Let's say the prayer.

We then said the prayer together in which E said he was grateful for Jesus and trains. And then:

E: Want some water.

Me: You want water?

E: Yes.

Me: Okay. I'll go get some for you.

E: How about milk?

It was so funny. He said it with this innocent since-you're-going-down-there-anyway tone in his voice. I said no, went and got the water and it was fine. He's pretty clever though-- trying to pull one over on me. Cute.

Great Deals

Today my mother-in-law and I took the children on a trip to "look for deals." We went to Deseret Industries (DI) first. The problem I have with DI is that most of the stuff there is total C-R-A-P. And they want to much money for it-- it's like the people that do the pricing have never been to a real store where things are actually new. There are occasional good deals to be found, however. Like our built-like-a- Buick, orange, $35 hide-a-bed, for example. Love it-- great for guests. Another example-- I was making a casserole for a friend and I didn't want her to have to worry about cleaning the dish and getting it back to me, so I bought a glass casserole dish for $1. Smart. Today I bought two wicker baskets for S's room. $3 total. Great deal.

Next we went to Ross. We were looking for a picture or a mirror for our family room. I found a non-offensive, not-too-exciting-but-still-lovely, picture of a flower which will look great with the other pictures I wanted to hang there. $8.99. I did good today!

Work Poos

I thought this was funny. It's the text of an e-mail (memo to the crew) my husband was sent at work. He is a computer games programmer.

"As some of you have astutely pointed out, the lone bathroom in our office does not have a fan. Because of this and the fact that we have +35 people, we are having to implement an Olfactory Preservation Program (Otherwise known as a "No Dookie" rule).

What does this entail, you might ask? It's fairly simple: if in the course of using the restroom, you believe you might leave a stench that will offend someone after you leave, please go out and use the public restrooms around the corner from the elevators (go down a floor if it is really bad ;). These restrooms have industrial fans, marble-like tile, almost guaranteed no-waiting and great smelling soap...what more could you ask for?

Follow this simple guideline and everyone will be happy. Fail to do so and I will authorize Marty and Trevor to drag your sorry excuse for a non-house-broken developer out to the public restrooms and give you a swirly so that you can familiarize yourself with the restroom you should have used.

If any of this is unclear to you, please come see me. I will be more than happy to spell this out for you in more explicit terminology. =)

We all thank you for your compliance,

Matt"

My husband was glad about this memo, since the respective loo is right next to his office.

Things are looking up.

Today was a great day for Barefoot Books and me.

My friend Andrea hosted a party for me and it went wonderfully. I even booked another event.

When I placed my order today, I realized that I had earned back my initial investment.

Whoo-hoo. Whoo-hoo. Whoo-hoo.

Now I can sign up to do Creative Memories.

Confessions

Well, people, it's Monday morning. Confession time. Here are a couple of things I bet you didn't know about me:

1. I like cottage cheese.
I don't LOVE it. But I like it. It's a pretty good breakfast when combined with fruit from a can, it goes well in casseroles, and on salads. There I said it. I like it.

2. I am OCD when it comes to the way I load my dishwasher.
Prince Charming hates loading the dishwasher because he knows I will come in and rearrange everything to the way I feel is correct.

3. I wish more people would read and comment on my blog.
There it's out. I blame myself. I'm not all that willing to take the time to read and comment on tons of blogs, so why would anyone else?

4. I want a puppy
Yes, I want a dog. More than I want another child, I want a puppy. Sort of. I don't want to clean up dog poos, but I want one all the same.

Well, that's it for today. I guess you'll have to wait until next week to see what I fess up to next.

Hot pink dinos

So I saw a fannypack today. Hot pink, nonetheless. (Oh, yeah, and we went to the dinosaur park in Ogden, too-- the true highlight of the day.) When was the last time you saw a fannypack? In use? As I was contemplating this little marvel, I noticed that the woman's daughter also had one. (Hers was purple). And then not but a few minutes later, I saw another woman (totally unaffilliated with pinky pack) also wearing a fanny pack. Hers was leather, however. But she was wearing tapered jeans.

Yeah, so the dinosaur park was fun. My dad is in town and me and the hub took him and the kids up to Ogden, Utah. It's really quite cool-- this big park filled with giant fakey dinosaurs. It was good fun. I am glad we went-- I just wished I hadn't been so tired. Those people never did go back to bed, you know.

What is wrong with these people?

Why is it that now that it is darker earlierin the evening and darker for longer in the morning that the children have recently decided that 5:00 am is a good time to awaken?

This is going to be an angry blog.

It is 7:00 am Saturday morning. As I type my children are upstairs in their rooms bawling their brains out. They (and their parents, consequently) have been awake since 5:30. Why? Heaven only knows. S woke up and wanted to nurse. Fine. She nursed, we put her back in her crib and she started crying 15 minutes later and hasn't stopped since. E got in our bad and wanted milk. Fine. We gave him milk, he stayed in our bed, then asked for more. Fine. We gave him more. He is now in his own room asking for more flipping milk.

Every time S stops crying, E starts up and vice versa.

What is wrong with these people? Why do they not value sleep in the same obsessive way that I do? It doesn't help that, against my better judgment, I stayed up past 11 playing Tiger Woods golf withMike and my dad (who's visiting-- nice night to sleep over, eh?). But that is beside the point. I now have gotten less than 6 hours of sleep (I need 9 or 10) and my kids are still screaming. Full throttle, by the way. Top of the lungs crying. These are not tiny whimpers, people. Giving in to them at this point would be useless. E has already proven that milk does not help him go back to bed, and I am pretty sure S just wants to get up. Not. Going. To. Happen.

It's 7:09. They are still at it. I just may win the award for worst mother of the year if this goes on much longer.

Here is something funny I found in our kitchen the other day:

Looks like E just stepped out of his socks and took off!

Also, I found myself saying this yesterday:

"Only poo-poo, pee-pee, and paper go in the toilet. And sometimes vomit. But never spoons or forks or hands. And we certainly never put a fork in our mouth that has been in the toilet!"

I am living with irrational people (aka toddlers) who need these kind of reminders.

Stephanie Needs

Having done the search "Stephanie needs" (try it with your own name) that Kathryn suggested on Google, this is what I cam up with:

1. Stephanie needs a strong manly shoulder to lean on. Stephanie needs the help of
kennel clubs and concerned citizens in her quest to protect

2.Stephanie needs cash-fast-but times are tough

3.Stephanie needs Ranger's savvy and expertise

4.Stephanie needs to be in a family where there are no other children or animals

5. I think Stephanie needs to post some of the "Excel Sonnets" Who's with me?

6.Stephanie needs to just stop asking him for favors

and my personal favorite:

7.Stephanie's Why She Needs Rhinoplasty Surgery Cyberbeggar, Epanhandler Page

Boy Parts

My oldest child, E, is a boy. My parents, who had no sons, and sisters were ecstatic upon learning his gender during my pregnancy. My husband put up the ultrasound pictures on the internet with a red circle around his "boyness." I started looking at kids books about trucks and cars, and secretly longed to be able to buy the books about Barbie and My Little Pony.

But really it's been great. I love that he is a boy. Boys are fun. When baby boys pee without a diaper on, it hits the wall, and sometimes gets you in the face.

This brings me to today's topic. I grew up in a penis-free household (can you read that without laughing, I couldn't) as my parents had divorced and I lived with my mom and my sister. So, I will be the first to admit, that I am a bit ignorant on the proper protocol in dealing with this male body part. When Ethan was a baby, I would laugh when I changed his diaper at what I affectionately called his "teenie weenie penie." Mike tried to put an end to this by telling me he didn't want Ethan to have any kind of confusion. He didn't want boys on the playground to say, "I have a (fill in your penis name of choice here)" and Ethan to say, "What? I don't have one of those!" But his plan was to no avail and soon he too was calling E's part a "penie." (But he refused to add teenie weenie).

Well, out of respect to my husband, after Ethan outgrew his infancy, I started using the proper term for the boyness. ( Although I still giggled when he would fiddle with it in the tub.) Recently, on some crude whim, I have started calling it a wiener. Ethan has also adopted this term for it. One night in the bath, this is the conversation that occurred:

E: This is my wiener
Mike: No, E, it's a penis.
E.: Not a penis! Wiener!
Me: (Giggles)
Mike: No, it's a penis.
E: (Really mad) NO PENIS! WIENER!
Me: (hysterical laughter)
Mike: (shuts door on me) See what you're teaching him?

I laugh now as I type this. Yesterday at his well child visit the doctor tried to look "down there" and he said, "No, that's my wiener!" I just thought it was funny.

So at our house it's a wiener. My friend Andrea, who is from Australia, calls it a winky. A rose by any other name... we all know what it is. Even the proper name can cause the giggles, so does it really matter how we label it?

Pumpkin Service, Please

Many of my neighbors have recently gotten into the Halloween spirit by decorating their front porches and doorsteps. In an attempt to be festive (and keep up appearances) I bought a $5 scarecrow from Big Lots. By itself it looked silly, so I decided to buy some pumpkins to go with it. At Target, they had pumpkins for $3 a piece, which I thought was a bit steep, so I only bought one. The checkout lady gave me a coupon for a dollar off, so the pumpkin ended up being $2. Great deal.

That was Monday- I have been to Target two more times since then, but did not buy any pumpkins. I thought I could get cheaper pumpkins at the local nursery/fruit stand in Centerville, so today that is where we went. Ethan and Serena loved it. They were sitting on the pumpkins and just going nuts-- fun for them. For me, however, my great deal was not to be found. When the kid that worked there finally came up to greet us, I told him we wanted to get some pumpkins and asked him how much they were. I am not convinced that this kid was not on crack. He says, "Well, some of them are marked, and we base the price on size and appearance. Like this one, (a giant green pumpkin) is $24.50." Hmmm. "This one, since it has no stem is $1." That sounds good.

So I find two reasonable looking pumpkins, one has no stem, so I assume it will be a great deal. So while this green-shirted, lazy, eighteen or nineteen year-old kid goes and slumps in a chair by the cash register, I leave my children unattended and carry my pumpkins, one at a time, about 200 feet to where he is . He rings me up. One pumpkin is $3. The no stemmer is $2.75. Big savings, eh? So feeling thoroughly ripped off, but happy to have my pumpkins, I leave the pumpkins on the table to go take a quick look at their trees. The kid does not offer to help me.

When I come back he is still lounging there, and I ask if I can use one of their carts to take my pumpkins. He says yes, and starts messing with his cell phone. What service! What a fine pumpkin salesman! Did he not see that I had two very independent children transport to my car as well as the two pumpkins I had purchased? Apparently not. Perhaps it was his ball cap and his drug-induced haze that clouded his vision. I don't know, but I am certainly getting sick of these kids and their crappy attitudes and lack of customer service skills. I could go on and on about that topic, but that's a blog for another day.

Results: I got my pumpkins. I am semi-happy. Conclusion: I should have bought a pumpkin a day at Target, but in the end, the result is the same. I now have a mildly festive doorstep.

Tip Day Tuesday: Outside Help

Kathryn suggested we post useful tips about how we use outside help to make life easier. I myself don't use outside help that much, but here are some thoughts:

1. Find someone with kids around your kids' same age to swap babysitting with. This is great, because it helps out your friend, and you don't have to pay a sitter.

2. This doesn't involve outside help, but does make life easier. I often only cook three or four nights a week because I "plan" for leftovers. I make twice as much, or just the regular recipe amount depending on your family size and then eat it again the next night, either warmed up or in a new form. For example, we might have spaghetti one night, and then the next night have a noodle and red sauce casserole. It saves money and time-- and the hassle of planning!

That's it for me. Is today even Tuesday?

Addiction

I think I am officially addicted to the internet. This is a problem as, to coin a phrase from Strong Bad, "The internet is a place where absolutely nothing happens." I can really spend a lot of time on the internet-- checking e-mail, reading blogs, shopping for things I don't need... Some days I would say I log on to the internet up to 10 times. Most days I do about 5.

It's not a good addiction. It doesn't make me feel good to get on the internet, I often feel worse for having logged on. In fact, it's very possible that my self-esteem is somehow linked to whether or not I have email. I am trying to break myself of this habit. I need to limit myself to once a day. But this becomes a problem, since I rationalize that since it's been multiple hours since I logged on, that I must have more e-mail. Not so, my friends. And thus my self-esteem plummets.

Anyway. If anyone has any ideas on how I can save myself from this plague, let me know.

Tiny Violins

So my mom has been here this weekend. I think I have been the happiest and most content that I have been in a long time. I am kind of dried up as far as semi-interesting things to blog about. Not much time to ponder quirky thoughts when trying to spend quality time with a person you don't see very often.

I get so jealous of the girls whose moms live close by. They get to see their moms whenever they want, and their moms can even babysit. I almost kind of resent them, and sometimes don't like them. Why? Because they have what I want. Isn't that terrible? What kind of person am I?

I'll tell you what kind of person I am. I am a person who needs deep meaningful friendships in a place where I don't have my mommy nearby and no friends who I can call when I'm crying. I am making friends, and there are people here that I like-- but time is what makes friendships close, and I haven't been here that long. Okay, I am stopping now. I'm starting to depress myself. Can you hear the tiny violins?

Kitchen Item

Kathryn (and also Blackbird) had a post about the kitchen item she could not live without. As I thought about the kitchen item that would cause my sudden death were it to leave me, I struggled. If my entire kitchen were to vanish, I would probably still survive in this world of ours. But then my mind recalled an event from the previous evening.

I was making rice. I had already put 1 cup of rice into the pan of boiling water and I needed another half of a cup, but we were out. Well, we still had some of our food storage rice. Our food storage rice was in a big white container that looked like this:



Now for those unfamilar with food storage, let me just say that these are not the easiest types of bins to open. I called my husband and asked him how to open it. No clue. I did what I thought I was supposed to do to open it--I took a screwdriver and went around trying to break each of the little notches where the lid said "break here to open." I tried this several times. It absolutely was not working to the point that I was practically injuring myself. Now keep in mind that this is all while most of the rice is already on the stove cooking and Serena is sitting on the floor screaming, wanting me to open some bottled water for her to make a mess with. I am beginning to think that should we need our food storage, in an emergency or something, we are all going to starve. So I got pretty frustrated as I really needed that last half cup of rice quick if I didn't want to ruin the dinner's rice. So our rice bin now looks like this:



So, even though it is very boring, and not exciting, the kitchen item that I cannot live without is this:

Their name is Mud

Is it right to publishes 2 posts in one day? Within moments of each other? I just have to get this out so that my adoring fan can enjoy it all.

We had a muddy day today.

It rained a lot yesterday, and since our backyard is all dirt, today it was all mud. Why I decided to take them out in this, I don't know. It must have been the pleasurable, I mean the playgroup, that frazzled my brain. Anyway, so we are outside, and I decide to walk around the house to go in the garage and get the shovel, thinking ever so foolishly that my children will stay and wait for me. So as I am coming back from the garage, I see that Serena has trudged through the VERY muddy part along the side of our house where the sun hardly shines. Her shoes are caked. Well, at least one of them is. The other is about 10 feet behind her stuck in the mud. So she is not only very muddy, but shoeless to boot. Then Ethan follows up the same way she came, only he is crying because it is hard to walk where she has been. Duh, she lost a shoe!

So, I get the hose. My shoes are now caked with mud as well. I do not know how I am going to get back in the house without making a mess. (Did I mention that I mopped my floor two days ago for the first time in weeks?) I wash off my bare feet, leave the hose running, step on a cloth diaper (they're great!) and run upstairs to get a towel. My toddlers are yes, still outside. And having a good time too! Serena is now sitting in a mud puddle and Ethan is doing something else muddy. So I get them on our cement "patio" and go in to get a bucket of warm water. Yes, the hose is still on. When I come back Serena is spraying herself.

I sit down Ethan, and remove his shoes and wet pants. Into the bucket he goes. Onto the towel. I sit down Serena. Off come her shoes and ALL of her clothes. Into the bucket. She is up to her diaper, and Ethan comments that she is "sitting down." This should have triggered something in my mind, but no, I take her out of the bucket, leave them unattended and go up for some clean clothes for Serena. When I come down I hear a big sploosh, as Ethan "sits" in the bucket. He is rather upset when I take the bucket away.

So that was pretty much it. It's really quite funny when I think about it. They are so dear, and so mischievous together. I love 'em to pieces. I'm still not ready to have another one though. I saw a cute four month old baby today at the playgroup and all I could think of when I looked at her was how much work she must be. I thought of sleepless nights and not being able to get anything done and I shuddered.

So tonight I've been spraying off muddy shoes in the sink, prying out mud chunks with a screwdriver and then drying the shoes with a hairdryer. And writing two too many blog entries. Fun for me.

Little Devil

I wonder about Ethan sometimes. He has a bit of a dark side-- a sometimes delightedness in the sadness of others, and a lack of remorse for his own wrongdoing. For example, we had a playgroup today and one little girl was very, very upset. (She didn't want to share). Her mom took her over by the front door to do a little "discipline," when Ethan runs over to me, his face full of glee, and says, "She's going home!" Then at the end of the playgroup, one little boy fell and hit his head and started to cry. Ethan looks up at him, and while smiling, says "Carston is sad."

Later Ethan decided to push his little sister. I sent him to his room-- he screamed and cried, but dutifully went. When the time out was over, our conversation went like this:

Me: Do you know why you went to your room?

E: Yes.

Me: Why did you go to your room?

E: (matter of factly) I pushed Serena.

Me: (Surprised that he understands) And do we push Serena?

E: Yes.

Me: Tell Serena that you aren't going to push her anymore.

E: (after looking at me like he knows he shouldn't lie) Serena, I not push you anymore.

I just wonder about him sometimes. The other day I noticed that he has stopped eating the crust on his sandwiches. I don't know if he does it because he does not like them, or because he has noticed that his mommy is guilty of leaving the crusts on her plate. Hard to say.

In other news, I just ran the spell check on this blog. It didn't recognize the word playgroup, and thought that perhaps I should replace it with the word pleasurable. Hmmmm....

Book party complaints

I recently signed up to be one of those people that does home-parties, trying to sell things to my friends and neighbors. The choice I have made is to sell children's books. Beautiful children's books that are fun to read, and draw their inspiration from other cultures. Tonight at my home, I had the second of these "home parties." The first one, my debut, I thought turned out okay. Of all my friends and neighbors, four people came. But everyone bought a couple books and I sold about $130 worth of books. Not great, not bad.

Tonight pretty much stunk.

I can say that without fear since the people that came to my event don't read this blog. Or anyone else really, for that matter.

So after shooting for ten people by calling 20, I got four guests. I couldn't give my presentation because I initially had 2 people show up, and numbers 3 & 4 came later. Only two people ordered anything.

Okay, now understand, I myself have a bit of hard time buying into these kind of businesses. (Makes you wonder why I signed on, eh?) I don't really like asking people to buy stuff from me. "Buy this book, so I get dough," just doesn't have the right ring to it. "You don't need it, and probably haven't budgeted for it, but buy it anyway," also makes me a little uncomfortable. It would be much easier if they were strangers. I could pry the money out of the hands of unknowns. The problem is, I invited people who are more or less, like me. If I went to one of these parties, for example, I would have spent, well maybe less than they did, if I could manage it. $10, max. And I probably wouldn't want to host one either-- but no, maybe I would because you can earn free books if you do. Yeah, no one wants to host either. They all say that they like to come to parties, but not host them. Well, if no one hosts, no parties will happen.

I didn't even make enough money on this party to cover the shipping. I can't order this stuff until I have another party, or I will LOSE money on tonight's festivities. I mean, I made like $8. Considering all the planning and phone calls I made, not to mention the actual party itself-- to quote Napoleon Dynamite- that's like a dollar an hour.

So I ask myself, am I an idiot?

No. I am not, because you know what? Even if I don't earn my money back, and never make a profit, I still have $300 worth of beautiful books that my kids love and that I love, and I only paid $125 for them. And I am enjoying this difficult business. It gives me something to do, and I love filling out order forms and delivering orders. (I'm sick, just like the people who love the taste of envelope glue or the smell of tape.) It's helping me step out of my comfort zone and forcing me to talk to people who may reject me. I am learning from it. So it's good. Tonight made me want to cry, but I am okay. I'm fine.

Oh, what was I thinking?

Cookie Triumph

Today was a great day.

Maybe it's because we started off with family scripture study and prayer. Whatever the reason, for being a pretty average day, it was a dang good day.

At the top of the day's events were some pretty near-perfect chocolate chip cookies that I baked myself. From scratch. In the past I have been fairly chocolate-chip-cookie-making-challenged: my cookies either turn out very flat or very burnt. This is probably because I have a set of air-bake cookie sheets that I love, but are inappropriate for chocolate chip cookies. Using the air- bakes creates flat cookies that take a long time to bake. So when I switch from air-bakes to regular cookie sheets mid-cookie making session, I don't adjust the cooking time, and thus get burnt cookies, in addition to my too-flat cookies.

Today's cookies, however, were close to perfection.

I forsook my beloved air-bake sheets and went with the jelly-roll type cookie sheet. The first batch was beautiful. Fairly uniform in size, not too flat, not too round and golden brown. (Yes, truly golden brown, I wept with joy.) I kept the same cooking time with the second, third and fourth batches. All beautiful. It was a wonderful moment. They tasted great too, and since I had used the reduced fat, reduced calorie recipe you can imagine how I felt. (No, you cannot taste the difference. Seriously.) So now today can officially go down in the history books as the day that Stephanie Marie Smith overcame her cookie-making retardedness. Hallelujah, I have arrived.

In Praise of Cloth Diapers

Do not be deceived by the title of this entry. My kids wear disposable diapers because they keep their bums dry, I don't want to pay a diaper service and I sure as heck don't want to be standing over the toilet shaking poos off of cloth diapers on a regular basis.

That said, I love cloth diapers. They have so many uses. For the environment friendly types, they can be used as well, a diaper. For anyone else with a baby, they are burp rags in the early months. They are also good for cleaning. For me, they are great for soaking up pee off of the carpet.

Ethan can hold his pee in for up to 5 hours or more. This means that when has an "accident" (or rather, an "on purpose") he really has an accident. He holds it in until he can hold it no longer and once started, he cannot stop. (This is really embarassing when he does it at other people's homes.) Anyway. You get the point. Lots of pee. So I need something ultra-absorbent to soak it all up out of my carpet. What better than something originally intended for holding in lots of pee? They work great, yes cloth diapers are the best. They get an A+ in the reinvention department.

Hold onto your butts (and your nose)

The first thing Serena did yesterday morning was dump out the box of the Game of Life.

I have a confession to make-- I have a smelly bathroom. Well, I did, until this morning. I mean, I still have the bathroom, but the smell is gone because I cleaned EVERYTHING. But, as I am fairly certain the smell will return, I feel honest in making this confession. The smell in there was so bad that I hadn't even used the bathroom one day, and my husband said, "what did you DO?" It was bad.

I guess I always naively believed that I would never have a smelly bathroom. That smelly bathrooms were something that other people had. Stinky people. Naughty people. People who don't drink enough water. Having been in a few smelly bathrooms before, I wondered how they got to be so stinky, and even though I now have my own smelly bathroom to speak of, I am still unenlightened as to the origins of the odors. I clean my bathroom once a week, so I don't know why it smells so bad. Maybe it's because it's a half bath, or maybe kid pee just really stinks. Poor ventilation? Diapers? Stink phantoms? I wish I knew.

So after I got the bathroom cleaned, I watched the Saturday sessions of General Conference. They were really good. Made me feel more grateful for everything we have--especially the Gospel. We have food, clothes, good health, children-- you name it, we got it. And even though lately, I have been wishing we had more money so I could do more decorative things to our house, I felt really blessed that we even have a house. Even if it does have one mysteriously smelly bathroom.