prepare yourself...

I'm not a good 1930's wife. I know, you are all shocked. Because my house is always tidy, my kids have newly ironed home-made clothes, and my hair is curled with precision as I cook every meal in my plain -yet tight waisted- dress and apron. You would think I should have scored better.

As a 1930s wife, I am
Poor

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On a side note (that is actually quite related...)

Today I am on a domestic strike. There will be no cleaning, cooking or personal hygeine rituals practiced today.

Ok, so really I've been doing loads of laundry all day - but I'm totally not folding it. And the kids' toys....staying on the floor (and couches, and stairs, and table and bathroom sink.)

And I did make peanut butter sandwiches for lunch, but that hardly counts as cooking.

And I may have violated the no personal hygiene thing when I put on deoderant this morning. But I didn't shower, I have no makeup on, and if it counts 2 of my 4 children are still in their pajamas. (Well, technically Screamer is only in half of his pajamas since his bottoms were ditched sometime around noon.)

And I'm doing -or I guess I should say NOT doing- all of this so that tomorrow when the disaster is still waiting for me, I can groan and remember that it's not a good idea to go on domestic strike unless you have a maid/cook/nanny. But for now I'm going to go read a book and pretend like my kids aren't screaming "Mommmmmmy!!!" every two seconds. Maybe they'll just get lost in the pile of toys and clean clothes...

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GIVEAWAY (of the photo Christmas card variety)

I think I just creeped out my four year old. I pulled out the, "You'd better go to bed because Santa's Elves are watching you to make sure you're being good!" routine. His eyes got big, and round, and scared. And he said, "Why would they do that?!" Also, our church building burned down yesterday. No wait, it didn't. But the alarm went off, and the entire ward just sat there in the chapel (and gym, because we have an enormous ward.) I sat there too. I don't know what everyone else was thinking, but the thought going through my head was, "Can somebody please get that alarm turned off, it is WAY TOO LOUD!!!!" Seriously, I think our ward is now 37% deafer after that. Oh, and there was no actual fire. And the first fire truck to show up was driven by one of our ward members who was on duty that day. Good times. And now, that GIVEAWAY: For procrastinators everywhere (that would include me) I'm giving away one free photo Christmas card d...

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hair loss and mourning

I like Monkey's hair long. I tried to grow out Opie's hair when he was younger, but he has always had a tremendously large head, and he also has very thick wavy hair. You pair those two together, throw in some long locks, and you've got yourself a genuinely bonified giant-head child. So I've learned my lesson: keep Opie's hair short. But Monkey's hair? It's so soft, and straight (our only straight-haired child) and super super cute when it's long. SUPER CUTE. (Agree with me - it's my blog.) But not many people liked the whole long hair thing. I kept having to threaten various family members with things like, "If I come back to find him with short hair I will DISOWN you, run away with my kids and you will never hear from us again. EVER." (Husband was particularly sensitive to this threat.) However, I did say that once random strangers started referring to him as a girl, I would consider cutting it. And even though ...

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A Not Yet Forgotten Moment

I have one grandma that loves telling us stories, but my other grandma never thinks her stories would interest us and therefore keeps them to herself. Now that she's aging, she's sadly starting to forget the stories. And besides that, she's wrong - her stories would very much interest me. My grandma Deonna (Morgan) Van Nosdol, my dad in the middle, and my two uncles. Sometimes I try to get tricky and ask round about questions to get her to tell me stuff from her past. She gets upset when she can't remember certain things. But then sometimes things just come right out. For instance, a few weeks ago I was talking to her about a frustration I was having with one of my kids, and asked what my dad was like when he was younger. Grandma started talking about how my dad was a very calm and serious child. He would go outside behind their house, over by the clothes line, and build stuff all day. He had wood and nails and he would keep himself ent...

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because I really can't get enough of myself

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