Short

Well, I know no one is really reading or posting much because of the holidays, and I can't say that I blame them. And yet, here I am. So, then, why am I posting?

I don't know. We are having a lovely time here. Charming has a BIG family and it has been a little crazy at times, but it's been good. I'll be glad to go home, but sad to go back to the daily grind of home life. I have loved not being lonely.

That's it, that's it for me right now.

Oy. Vay.

We took Reenie to a doctor today. Ear infection, of course. I took her prescription to be filled at Wal-Mart and in the car discovered horror of all horrors about the medication.

It contained a sulpha drug.

What does this mean, exactly? Well, sulpha is the only antibiotic that I have ever had a reaction to. When I had my first sinus infection, they gave me a sulpha drug. I was the sickest I had ever been in my life. After being on sulpha a few days, I broke out in a nasty X-Files type rash all over my bod. I called the doctor who informed me I was...Allergic. Oh, is that all?

My mom later informed me that she too was allergic to sulpha. My sister vomits when she takes it. Given the family history, would you be willing to try it out on your kid? I am certainly not. So now what? Of course this was at 5:15 pm and the doctor's office was indeed closed.

The thing that makes me so mad is that 1. I failed to mention to the doc that I am allergic to sulpha and 2. that he wouldn't have told me what he was giving her if I hadn't asked. And even then, he did not really even explain it to me. I am ticked off.

And I don't need this kind of malarchy on our vacation.

Oy.

Oy. Vay.

Florida

Well, we are in Florida. We got here yesterday. Since we are on a vacation, the children are of course, sick. Coughing, sore throats, runny noses...

I think they put out an advertisement about a week ago. I imagine it said something like this:

WANTED: A Few Good Germs
Going on vacation, want to make parents and selves as miserable as possible.
If you're a nasty germ, we want you!
Experience preferred, but not required.
Great Benefits! Trip to Disney World included in package.
Germs unable to infect adults need not apply.

They do this every time we go on vacation. I am sick this time, as well, and feeling pretty miserable. I am glad I missed the vomit attack of a couple of weeks ago, but apparently it is my turn now. The good thing about being sick on a trip such as this, is that there are other people around who can take care of Reenie and E, so that I don't have to. But it doesn't make for a fab vacation. Oh well, can't have everyhting, I guess.

Does this happen to anyone else?

Company Party-- and then some

So, Charming and I went to this fun company party last night. It was at a ski resort in Park City, and we had to take a gondola ride to get up to actual event. The food was good, the people fun, the music lively and we got a new printer. (Everyone got to choose a gift.) Plus, we received an unexpected Christmas bonus. I was thinking to myself what a great company it was and how it would be really hard for Charming to ever quit because his boss, Vance is really cool and generous. But then if Charming left to do his own company, he could essentially be Vance. We'll stay for a few years anyway.

So we had a good time.

Cougie watched the kids, and didn't have too many problems. Apparently, E missed us, however, since he was up every two hours after we got home:

12:30 am--E is pleading at his door repeating the same three phrases over and over and over: "I want some more milk. Milk, please. I want MILK."

2:15 am-- E climbs into bed with us

4:15 am--"Feliz Navidades, Feliz Navidades, prospero anyo a feliizi dades." Public Television is airing some Spanish Christmas special and E has turned on the tv to tune in. Apparently E wants an a.m. movie, as he is messing with the videocassettes. Charming puts a screaming E back in his own bed with some more milk.

6:30 am- Reenie is up and wants to nurse.

7:10 am-- E is back looking for another movie. We turn on PBS. He watches Thomas and Friends and then Bob the Builder, while we try to do a little more snoozing.

8:00 am-- Charming has taken Reenie downstairs and E informs me that he wants breakfast. With me. Not daddy only. I groan, roll out of bed and we go downstairs and start our day.

The post office is making a killing, and they're all going postal

I got a friend to watch E and Reenie, so I could run some non-kid errands today.

First stop: Post Office

It was packed. (Non-intentional, mostly unfunny pun).

When I made it to the front of the line I brought my parcels to Howard, the grumpy man I was hoping I would not get.

He weighs my first, and smallest package:

Howard: How would you like that sent?
Me: (Hmmmm...$26, $17 or $7?) Parcel Post, please.
H: So, you don't want it to get ther before Christmas?
Me: (could you have said that any ruder?) Umm, I don't care.
H: Cause there's a good chance with parcel post it won't get there before Christmas.
Me: (I think my mom and my aunt and uncle will survive) No, parcel post is fine. (Do you think I am made of money, I have two more packages here and did you see the size of the next one?)

Then a lady approached.

Lady: Excuse me, I am sorry but, I put my money into the machine and got stamps but no change.
Howard: (Nasty Look) Okay...
Lady: Well, you see I got this kind and this kind and I used a twenty and I should get like 10 dollars in change.
H: Well, you are just going to have to get in line.

She leaves. Then under his breath and sort of to me he mutters, "What does she expect me to do?"

Oh, Howard. Where's your Holiday Cheer?

So Howard weighs my next two packages and I purchase insurance for one of them. I felt bad for the unjolly man. I wanted to say "Howard, you are doing a great job." But I didn't want to lie to him! He was being a poo-head, what would you have done? I needed stamps too, but did Howard offer me any? No-oo-oo-oo. I was too intimidated by is grumpocity that I didn't even ask him for any, since he had already started swiping my credit card. Instead, I paid for my packages, and then went to stand in line to use the self serve machine to get stamps.

The post office is raking in the big bucks, but apparently Howard is not.

Mom-isms

My life has been reduced (or exalted) to this.

1. Yesterday was Reenie's first non-runny poo in several days. When I discovered this, I announced to her in my most excited voice, "It's not runny, Reenie! It's not runny!" She then did a little dance of joy.

2. This morning I started singing "On Top of Spaghetti" to the children. Reenie did not want this, so she said, "No! NO!!!!" However, when I did a ridiculous dance for her, while singing it, she was satisfied and laughed at me. Anyone else laughing at me? Just curious.

3. Yesterday when E was out in the snow (makinig tracks, he said) I could see that his hands were red and freezing. I asked him if they were cold, he said yes. Did he want gloves? No. I made him wear the gloves (worried about the Frost Bite) and 30 seconds later he chucked them in the snow. I continued to let him play with no gloves.

4. Last night, while trying to talk to Charming, I realized he wasn't paying attention or listening to me at all. What was he distracted by? A video. Thomas the Tank Engine. Oy.

Well, hopefully today will be a better day than the past several. I expect Flo will be popping in today and staying for a bit. Maybe then things can get back to normal. Whatever that means.

I give up

Well, I have dealt with enough vomit and diarrhea in the past few days to last me a lifetime. But, seeing as how I dealt with it rather ungraciously, I am sure Heavenly Father will see fit to bless me with such an epidemic at least once more before I die.

Today has not been one of my finer mothering days.

Now that we are coming out of the Land of Vomitocity I am seeing all the things I must do in the little time I have left before we go on vacation. I am drowning. Not in vomit, not in poop (although it seems so) but in Holiday-ness.

Yes, I have succumbed to the Holiday Stress.

Let me list for you all that I must do, so that you can either feel for me, or so that I can see how little the list actually is.

1.Finish Christmas Shopping
2.Wrap and Mail gifts (This involves much more than it appears, as I have two small children)
3.Find my driver's license by some Miracle, since it is too late to go ask for a replacement and get it in time, and I need it to fly
4.Direct church choir on Sunday
5.call all members of choir and see if they have gotten to gether to practice this week
6.Hold Saturday rehearsal for choir
7.Pray like crazy that choir does not bite on Sunday
8.Pack
9.Clean EVERYTHING
10.Charming's work party Saturday evening
11.Christmas letter
12.Figure out what to do about picture for Christmas letter, since my friend took the pictures and they did not turn out well. She even drove the hour twice to take them for us since the children were ill-behaved.
13.Find someone to get our mail while we are gone
14.Clean up the inevitable poop that will be surely spewing forth from Reenie over the next few days more
15.Clean up the poop that I know E will continue to have in his underwear
16.Cry
17.Cry some more.

Well, evcen though I don't think I could just send a holiday picture of Reenie, we did get this good shot from our family photo shoot:


Merry Christmas.

Oh man, you ain't gonna believe this one

So, how would you feel if the following happened to you?

So my good friend, err, Aussie, let's call her, came by my house yesterday to drop something off for me, and while she stood at my doorstep I commented that my house was a mess again. She then rang me later saying she would be coming in the morning to help me clean. What a good friend. Blessed, blessed woman.

When she got here, she confessed she had a small case of the runs, but she seemed fine. I had barely gotten up and hadn't eaten breakfast, and feeling a wee bit nauseated I let her get started while I ate some Raisin Bran.

She hadn't been here more than an hour when disaster struck. To spare any embarassment, let's just say she was spewing from both ends, and eventually was in tears. She ended up on the toilet, vomitting into a bucket and crying, saying she was going to pass out. She could not drive home, so her husband came to get her and he took her to Urgent Care where she had 3+ bags of fluid to fix her severe dehydration. I watched two of her kids for four hours while she was there.

I feel guilt.

While she gets to work helping me take care of my pigsty, I am semi-lounging about it and pooh-poohing about how I feel oh-so-queasy. But as the morning went on, she got progressively worse. Aussie was the one who ended up totally ill and in the Urgent Care. And still, I feel bad for her, but am also desperately hoping that no one in my house catches whatever she had.

Does this make me a bad person?

And can you believe how much vomit we've had here lately?

How did Mary get to Bethlehem?

By Minivan, of course! And she rode in the backseat, too...

This is really how I found them.

Well, okay. I found Joseph under the table and only Mary and the Shepherd were in the van. Seemed a little scandalous to me, so I added Joseph to the driver's seat. But they are otherwise in their original places.

Joseph driving, Mary having contractions in the back, and the Shepherd is coaching her breathing.

Hopefully no one gets offended by this. Don't look too closely or you'll see that they are actually headed away from the baby Jesus who has already been born. They are abandoning him to be left at the mercy of the sheep and a couple of wisemen (who incidentally in our nativity, are named Ted and Kim. I don't know where Balthasar is...)

Okay, I have had my fun. I am stopping now.

The Puke Continues

Reenie is a whiny ball of vomitting.. whiny-ness. She insists on being held, won't stop fussing and just puked up all of her macaroni lunch. Apparently, she does not chew her noodles..

E has been peeing in his underwear non stop, and I just now found a wet spot on my carpet which I can only assume to be E-Pee.

The house has been declared a sty. I expect the pigs will be moving in this afternoon.

I need to go to the store.

I need to get out of this body fluid zone.

I need a break!!!

I am about to go postal.

If you cando nothing more than pray that things here vastly improve soon, well, that is enough. We need all we can get.

He's gonna be a photography major, he is

Some random thoughts:

1. This is what I did yesterday in between feeling upset over Reenie being so lethargic for family photos, and having a Princess Pity Party because I felt her illness was preventing Festive Family Fun:



Needless to say, they have been Eaten.

2.Today E and I went to church by ourselves. Charming stayed home with Reenie, who is recovering. So at church, my friend, let's call her Buffy, offered to sit with us in between leading the hymns since her spouse and child were at home. I didn't have a problem with this, in fact I was glad about it, but E apparently did not feel the same way.

He said to Buffy, "NO! Don't sit here. You not sit here. You sit up there, lady."

Lady?

I mean, he didn't know her name so he called her lady. At least I am assuming that is why he did it. I found it borderline rude, yet borderline humorous. Okay, I laughed. I admit it.

Oh, but I was horrified today in church. He talked loudly during a baby blessing, and when I asked him to be reverent he said, (loudly) "No, mom, I don't want to say prayer. No be quiet." Repeatedly. Later when they were going to bless the sacrament I asked him to be reverent and he refused. I tapped him on his hand with my pen, and he then started loudly saying (during the prayer) "Oww, Mom! You HURT E! You Hurt my hand! You hurt E's neck. Don't do that! NO be quiet." (I don't know where he got the thing about the neck.)

I felt like I appeared to be A Very Bad Mom.

But what was I supposed to do? We're supposed to be reverent and quiet and the harder I tried to get him to behave, the more he balked and fought me. Doing nothing would have resulted in, well, possibly less loudness, but no more obedience. What would you have done?

3.Which brings me to another point, some people's kids seem so naturally well behaved. A blessing for them, but they seem to want to take the credit for it. I just love it when I ask people, "well, how do you get your kid to do that?" and they say "oh he just knows that he should or should not." This is the most ludicrous and un-useful piece of an excuse for advice that I have ever heard. Really what it means is, "I don't know, I didn't do it, but saying this makes me sound like a frigging super mom." I just want to punch these people, with their smugness and their thinking they are so great, and their jerky little what's-wrong-with-your-kid? attitude.

Ugh. Incidentally, it's been awhile since I have had one of these encounters. I was just thinking about it today and got all bugged.

4. Since E did his doos in the potty a few days ago, he has pooped in his underwear several times and not once in the porcelain. I am getting so incredibly frustrated. Any ideas? And don't tell me your kid just figured it out. Because whether or not he did or did not, I do not want to hear about it.

Seven Sevens

I have been tagged by Daring Young Mom.

Here we go.

Seven things I hope to do before I die:

1. Record a CD (I just need to get on it, there's nothing really stopping me)
2. Go on a mission with my husband
3. Start my own business
4. Watch my children grow into upstanding, moral adults
5. Live near my family again-- I really would like my children to have their grandparents more in their lives
6. Be good enough on the piano to play in church
7. Understand how to communicate better with my children (who are sometimes very irrational)

Seven things I cannot do:

1. Crochet. I cannot tell you how many times I have tried to learn, and how frustrated my instructors and I have gotten. I am crochet-tarded.
2. Spend money on things that I think are too expensive- regardless of quality, brand etc..
3. Lie. Occasionally, I may omit certain facts, but rarely, and usually only to my dad, to spare argument or confrontation. Even then though I usually come out with it. I am a very honest person.
4. Get an epidural. I am so incredibly scared of needles. I have borne two children, one in the hospital with pitocin and one without. I had the option the first time, but still didn't do it. The whole notion of a needle in my spine gives me the jibblies.
5. Get plastic surgery. I flip out whenever I color my hair and it doesn't look like me. No way I could go under the knife. If I didn't recognize the lady in the mirror, I think I'd be beside myself.
6. Have nice things (including furniture) in my house while my children are still young. Puke, poop, pee, playing. 'Nuff said.
7. Give up chocolate. If God Himself asked me to, I would. Other than that, not happening.

Seven things that attract me to my spouse (significant other, best friend)

1. He is driven and motivated
2. He is a wonderful Daddy
3. The way that he supports me and desires to help me accomplish my goals
4. The way he constantly seeks to become a better person
5. His sensitivity towards me
6. His blue eyes-- I have a weakness for them
7. His faith in Jesus Christ, and his commitment to follow Him

Seven things I say often:

1.Like
2. Would you like to do ___ or go to your room?
3. Do you want to go pee pee or poo poo on the potty?
4, Do you want to use the potty or go to your room?
5. I love you
6. Quotes from movies like Napoleon Dynamite (Your mom goes to college...)
7. When are you coming home? (To Charming, every day when he's at work)

Seven books or series I love:

1.The scriptures
2. The Last Unicorn by Peter S.Beagle
3.Harry Potter (I know, I am a nerd)
4. Pride and Predjudice
5. Les Miserables
6. Lord of the Rings
7. So That's What They're For! (This is a book about breastfeeding, but it is hilarious.)

Seven movies I could watch over and over:

1. Napoleon Dynamite (I know it's new and trendy or whatever, but hey, I saw the short film it that started it all while at BYU, and Charming and I couldn't stop talking about it. Funniest thing ever)
2. Finding Nemo. And I have watched it over and over (at E's request). It's still good every time. (I love the initiation scene with Nemo and the Ring of Fire).
3. Monty Python and the Holy Grail
4.You've Got Mail
5. The Emperor's New Groove
6. A Christmas Story
7. Pirates of the Carribbean

Seven people I want to join in this Seven Sevens meme:

1. House Warden of My Sanity-- my most candid mommy friend from my highschool days
2. Christy of Periods in the Midst of Sentences-- a wonderful down to earth mommy friend, who is also an aspiring writer and whose husband works with Charming
3. Mom on a Mission-- a new blogger who has a link to my site, who I would love to get to know better
4.My mom, even though she doesn't blog
5.My mother in law, also not a blogger (you guys could just email me or post it in my comments)
6.Heather of Morceaux de Fromage-- even though she has already been tagged by DYM. She is cool and I like her and she drives through snow for me :)
7. Moonface of Midnight Musings-- again also tagged by Daring, but she has a sweet blog and a very real outlook on life, and she was one of my first faithful readers who wasn't someone I already knew.
(There's more, but they too have been tagged by DYM)

Happy Blogging!

Vomit, vomit everywhere and not a wink of sleep

Last night could possibly have been the worst night ever. EVER.

VOMIT!!!!!!!!!!!!

I went to the cannery with some ladies from church and when I got back the kids were asleep. I was standing in my bedroom at about 11 pm and I was just thinking, "I really want to hold my baby right now," and then I heard Reenie cry out and I went to pick her up.

I picked up a vomit baby. Puke in her ears, her hair, her bed, her nose, her jammies, etc..

Reenie took a bath and we put her to bed.

And then-- more puke.

I went to sleep around midnight. Charming stayed up with the babe, who continued to vomit every forty five minutes or so until 3 a.m.

At four am, Reenie was in our bed and making a fuss, and we tried to get her to go back to sleep. At 5 a.m. I took her in her room and nursed her. Back in bed. 10 minutes later-- more puke-a-roo. Another bath. She hurled again right after the bath. I felt tired and sick and wanted to cry. I had had only four hours of sleep and I was a wreck. But how could I ask for Charming's help, when he had only slept 2?

But help, he did. Blessed, blessed man.

Reenie finally got up for the day around 7 a.m., and I was allowed to sleep until 9. Now here's a little something to show you how driven my hubby is-- he went to work today. If it were me, I would have called in sick, or at least stayed home a few hours to get some extra zzzz's. But no, he went in. Just another example of why he gets up with the kiddies in the a.m. and why I don't get up early.

The good news is (could there be any?) is that Reenie appears fine today. No puke thus far.

I'm a Mormon, and Glad about it

Okay, so in the past, I have tried to keep religious talk on my blog to a minimum, lest any should be offended. But after the nasty things that have been said about Daring Young Mom, I am willing to lose all of my readers/commenters to stand up for what she and I (and many others) believe in.

In case you don't know what happened (and most of you probably do, since most of my readers are her readers also) you can go here. But it went down like this: Daring got nominated and became a finalist in the Blogs of Beauty (a Christian blog contest) and even won in the humor category. Yea, Daring! And then she was torn down and criticized by another blogger who said she should not have won since she is Mormon and therefore not a Christian. This was hurtful and mean and unfair. It even made me cry.

Well, let me just say that as a Mormon, I believe in Jesus Christ. I try my best to follow his teachings and live a Christ-like life by service and example. If there is something more to being a Christian than this, than I guess Mormons aren't Christian. I will leave that for you to decide. But, whatever. I believe in Christ and praise him as my Redeemer, Savior and ultimate example of love, service and sacrifice.

And let me tell you something else about Daring. For one thing, though she is LDS, I don't know that I would say she writes a Mormon blog. She writes a very real, and honest MOMMY blog. If she should be kicked out of the contest it ought to be because she doesn't flaunt her faith all over her site. And even though every other word on her blog isn't about Christ, she is as much a believer and follower of Christ as anyone else. She shows her faith by her service to others, by her willingness to sacrifice for her friends and family, and by her morals and standards. She is a wonderful person, and I am so horrified that anyone would attack her in the manner done so. The woman who posted said "nasty things" claims that she is only trying to help people differentiate between Mormons and Christians or something, but that isn't what she's doing. She's hurting beautiful, wonderful people who worship the same Savior she claims to follow.

I am hurt, though not shocked, but yes, appalled. Anyone who believes in Christ, be they Catholic, Mormon, Born Again Christian, or anyone else should support each other with love, tolerance and understanding. Isn't that what Jesus would have us do?

My resolve today, is to be a better human being. To look for more ways to show love and serve others. What are you going to do?

Things I have said

It's not even 10 am and I have already made the following comments:

"No, E, we cannot open Reenie's head. Her head does not open."

"Did you toot? (Denial from Charming) No, it doesn't smell like an E toot. It's a man toot."

"What are you doing, Reenie? Hiding beads under your bum?"

It's a mom day.

The girl is standing next to me ripping up envelopes as I blog

I have been having some vision problems, so this morning I made a little trip to the eye doctor. It was kind of weird, since I haven't seen an eye doctor since I was a kid and I sort of place the role of "eye doctor" as an adult, superior figure. Today's guy was not much older than me, and to top it off, he looked like this guy.

Okay so now some images:


Lovely, I know. Pay particular attention to the multiple half-eaten apples on the top shelf. If only Reenie (S) were famous. Then we could sell these no-longer-desired-or-eatable- apples on E-Bay for big bucks.



It snowed here! I tried to get some good pics, but as a new development we don't have any good trees yet. This is my neighbor's back yard. He chose not to weed, and so he has what you see here. (At first I thought maybe he had grown them on purpose, but then Charming set me straight.)



It's Reenie holding a teddy! (Excuse the cheap-as-free digital camera blurriness). Isn't she cute-a-licious?

I am either really perserverant or am a glutton for punishment

Please don't feel bad for me when you read this, I am fine, really.

So, I have allowed it to happen again.

A party. For Barefoot Books. At my house. 'Nuff said.

Okay, so really, I thought it would be different this time. I was having a story hour. I told all of my "friends" they didn't have to buy anything, just come and have a good time with their kids and stories. I really thought people would come. They all said they would and they sounded excited about it too.

So far, 2 people. Faithful Heather is on her way up from her house right now, whihc is a good hour away. 3 people. If she makes it-- it's snowing a good one out there.

I am actually not all that upset, since I did get my house clean and I got a chance to visit with a couple of ladies. But I also have too many cookies, and WAY too much wassail.

Moments ago, I was standing at my window looking out into my snow covered backyard. I could see my sticks poking up through the snow. It made me wonder if I am failing. I figure I am either failing or something great is coming. At least I hope it is so with my trees-- they could very well be dead, but come spring they could really take off. I could be the envy of all the neighbors with my beautiful trees. Or I could be sending them right back because they have died. But I don't think I am ready to quit or give up just yet. Not on my crazy ideas or my poor little trees.

Also, I am thinking about singing at the hospital. But here's the thing, I emailed the lady and said it sounded like they only needed instrumentalists, and she emailed back and said she'd love to have me sing. But now I am too scared to call. I am a major dork. This I know.

Pooplah: Let's hear it for the Poop

I suppose before I had kids, I was a much more intelligent conversationalist. I hope that I am once again in the future. But for now, guess what? E went poop in the potty! I am not ashamed to say that this was the highlight of the day.

So here's how it went down. Well, first you should understand how it usually goes down: We sit E on the toilet and tell him to poop. He sits for a long time, does not poop, we put a diaper on him, put him in his room to go to bed and he poops there. And sometimes he then falls asleep.

It only seems fitting the way that this evening's events played out. We put E on the toilet and asked him to poop. We left him. He decided he wanted to sit on his little potty chair instead of the big toilet. Fine. I went in to put S to bed and while I was reading her stories, I saw E walk by carrying the potty chair. I was worried it had "contents," but it didn't so I left him. I then heard his bedroom door close. Charming went in to check on him and got yelled at by E. I went in to check on E to see him sitting on the floor, putting his trains all over the potty seat like it was a track. I told him not to do that and left. I went downstairs and then later heard Charming excitedly telling E: "You made poo-poo in the potty! You're such a big boy! Oh Good Boy, E! Good Job." (Which, by the way is funny in itself. Charming gets this tone in his voice that would be deemed by some, un-manly. I think it is cute, he's a good papa.)

I, of course, came up to see. Took my time, for after all this is feces we're talking about here. And when I looked I saw that E had indeed created poos in his little potty chair. In his room. Yea for E. Next time he uses the potty chair I think he ought to clean it out of that thing. Nast-ola. Maybe after sanitizing his own poo bowl he'll desire to use the real toilet. No, seriously, I am very happy. He's making progress, and this is a good, good thing.

What I really want to be...

Charming is asleep. I hate it when he goes to bed before me and doesn't tell me. I am not really tired, so-oo-oo...

I have been thinking a lot the past couple of days about what is missing in my life. I've gone off of my lexapro, and am trying to keep off of it, but it's been rough. And you know, I am lonely. A lot of the different things I have been trying to do to fill my "void" as it were, I have done because I need a consistent and regular social outlet. I haven't been here very long and though I have tried, I haven't found any great clubs or play groups or anything. It has required major effort on my part to make friends.

So, on another note, but along the same lines, a few weeks ago I went to the Utah Women's Show with my sister in law-- let's call her Cougie. That's kind of a funny name, but oh well, moving on. So Cougie (tee-hee) and I were at this show and we went to a presentation about starting your own business. The lady that spoke said something that really stuck with me and it was this: "Think of what you would do if there was nothing standing in your way, and then do that." I thought about all the businessy things I would do, and I sort of picked one and for a while flew with that idea.

But you know what? Nothing on my list is what I would really do if there was nothing stopping me. Really what I would love to do is be a professional vocalist. A recording artist. A performer. Oh my gosh, I am getting teary just thinking about it. I love the stage, I love singing-- I didn't do enough of it in college and I regret it. I love singing for people-- I don't even think I really want to be famous, but whenever I see someone, an opera singer or some soloist, performing on tv, I get utterly and completely jealous. I even try to pick out her flaws to convince myself that she's not any better than me. I wish it were me up there. I really do.

Now, not to toot my own horn, but I am a talented singer. My Heavenly Father gave my mother and I an almost identical but beautiful voice. I studied music in college-- with a lot of other really talented people, who made me feel small by comparison-- but still, I was good enough to get into the program, so if that's any indicator, I'm pretty good. And though I can say this candidly on the blog, on the inside I am worrtying what you all will think of me for saying this. And I am worrying that those of you who have heard me sing, will be thinking, "whatever, you're not that good." On the inside, I don't think I could ever make it, I'm not that great.

It's funny, because when I was doing NANOWRIMO, the daring young sisters both said they were afraid to write, in case what they wrote was not very good. I didn't understand this AT ALL because quite frankly, they are assuredly better writers than me, andI was not in the least bit afraid of writing doo-doo. I had no trepidation approaching the project at all.

It makes me wonder, maybe we really are just afraid of success. Or we cling so tight to our dreams that we can't make them a reality. The areas where we are truly talented and could be great, seem to be the areas we are afraid to approach. Why is that? Why do we run from our own gifts? Why do we hide our light under a bushel, instead of on a candlestick?

Now, obviously I am a mom now, and I love my children, but somedays I feel like there is this great big ball of talent burning inside of me and I am doing nothing with it. Nothing. But I don't even know what I am supposed to do with it. It makes me sad and confused. And small. Very small.

Sorry for the long blog, but I just had to get it out there.

What do you think? What would you do?

Fat

Okay, so lately, I have noticed some extra fat around my midsection. I'd say I don't know where it came from or why it is there, but that would be a lie. I have concluded this: I don't nurse S as much, and I am continuing to eat like a breastfeeding mommy. And, ahem, I have an affinity for sweet and fatty things. Cake and cookies and ice cream make me feel good....

Okay, so there are two problems with this new, umm.. let's call it the bulge. The first problem is that the bulge makes me look pregnant. I don't mind looking pregnant when I actually am pregnant, (I actually really enjoy it) but as I am not currently pregnant, I find this annoying.

The second problem is one I have experienced before, when E was a baby: my child could use a little more bulge right at the time I need to lose mine. I took S to her 15 month check up the other day, and her weight has fallen off the charts, so I have been instructed to fatten her up. Extra butter, extra fat, extra calories. And then here's me and the bulge, trying to lay off of the calories. The difficulty lies in trying to separate the two mindsets: as I add the gooey extras to fatten the child, I start thinking, "and a little extra ice cream for me." The bulge loves this, and really I do too, but I hate the bulge. Hate, hate, hate, hate the bulge. The bulge must leave, so I must not add extra butter to my own toast. Only to S's toast. Do you see where the trouble is?

Oh how I loved the days of nursing where the fat just slipped away while I ate ice cream and cake. Oh, those were good days. I miss those days.

So now, my choices are limited. I must do one of two undesirable things to deal with this bulge. I either need to eat less, or get pregnant. What would you do?

While on the subject of the boy...

So, whenever we ask E to do something undesirable (according to his three year old rationale anyway) and he says no we only have to say one thing:

"Do you want to (fill in undesirable task) or do you want to go to your room?"

He will always choose the undesirable thing over going to his room.

Until recently, I feared what I would do to get him to behave when we were away from the house. But I have found that this little charm works everywhere and anywhere. At the store. At a friends house. At grandma's house 1000 miles away. The other day he was actually standing in his room, and he refused to go use the toilet-- I said "do you want to use the potty or go to your room?" He went to the bathroom straight away.

I love it, love it, love it.

And on a different subject-- someone actually asked me the other day if my house was always clean. I laughed. Sure it's always clean-- if you're definition of always is more like never. If this is the case, then yes, my house is always clean. And I do mean always.

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.