Nov 29, 2011

deja vu toilets UFO starship enterprise

Have you ever had deja vu, where in the middle of it you remember that in midst of the deja vu you were thinking, "I'm having deja vu" so then during the actual moment of actual deja vu you think, "I'm having deja vu about having deja vu"?


In other news, I ate Thanksgiving dinner last week.  I know - ORIGINAL.

But then after dinner my sister came out of my mom's bathroom and was like, "Ummm, your toilet is sideways."  And then everyone discovered that the toilet was in fact attempting to fall through the floor.

So basically our Thanksgiving day turned into a Thanksgiving weekend in which Husband and my stepdad got to rip out a rotting bathroom floor and build a new one.  And my kids got to annoy my mom with their constant whining, "I'm bored.  I'm hungry.  Do you have any other toys?" all while destroying the rest of her house with their pent up energy.

Also, we got to see a Christmas light parade on the beautiful main street of Spanish Fork, Utah.  (Those of you who have been to Spanish Fork can laugh at that statement with me.  HA HA HA.)  And during the middle of the parade I saw a UFO.  For reals.  My sister saw it too, so you can check with her on the validity of actual UFO-ness, if you want.

And also, during my unexpected weekend away, I got to hang out with my grandparents while Monkey and Number Four ate all of their cookies and giggled like crazy in their kitchen.  Which was probably my favorite part of the weekend.  Because I really like my grandparents.  Plus, while I was there my grandma threatened to hunt someone down and kill them, and I about died of AWESOME.  Because she's a very petite old woman but that has never stopped her from spitting fire, and when she says stuff like that I'm reminded why I'm so happy to have her genes.

And also, while I was at my mom's house all weekend, I got to play with her big box of  Classic K'nex, and I built the Starship Enterprise, and then flew it around the dining room a little bit while humming the opening song to the original Star Trek, which made my mom curse my father for passing on his love of geeky sci-fi shows.

Overall, it was a pretty good weekend.  You know, except for that whole toilet-falling-through-the-floor thing.

Nov 22, 2011

did you know that I have an accordion?

Dear Veronica,  I don't know if you actually read my blog because we're those kind of friends who actually don't read each other's blogs, but in case you're reading this - this one's for you.

Once upon a time I was a senior in high school.  If you'd like to get a mental picture of me being a senior in high school just remember: it was the era of ultra baggy jeans.  And also my hair was really curly back then.  And also I hardly ever got zits (which makes no sense because I get them all the time now).

Alright, moving on.

For Thanksgiving that year my family went to my aunt's cabin in California.  We played a lot of Phase 10, which I hated, because I always lose when playing Phase 10.  But I guess that's ok, because while I was there I received the coolest musical instrument EVER: an accordian.

My uncle lent me his old accordion (I say "lent" but really I've never returned it) because he knew that I was in an AP music class and also because I kind of kicked butt at playing the piano back then (even though you wouldn't be able to tell if you heard me play now) and he was excited at the prospect of his beloved accordion being played once again.

The accordion is really heavy and also it is ivory and gold, ie. MAJORLY POSH.  (Sometimes I still pull it out to entertain the kids, or when my friends want me to serenade them on road trips.)

So, I learned how to play my new accordion.  Except that I was sort of busy back then (I actually had a social life - I KNOW, you didn't even think it was possible because of the severe lack in social life I've had for the past 10 years), and also I've always been a big fan of "only learn what you HAVE to know" so I mostly could only play stuff like Jingle Bells and the Jurassic Park theme song.

But that didn't stop me from showing off.

For Christmas, I volunteered to accompany my friends while they sang religious carols.  Away in a Manger has never sounded more spiritual than it did on my ivory and gold accordion.  (I think I also wore my plaid pants that day - I have vivid memories of those plaid pants because they were tight, so basically they were my only pants that didn't fall off due to overly baggishness, and also my butt looked really good in them.)

Also, my accordion came in really handy in my AP music class.  Because everyone else in the class was way smarter than me, and could play multiple instruments with precision and ease.  So when we had assignments to create our own original compositions, I would always feel like a tremendous loser because I could only play the piano, and sometimes the kazoo. 

BUT THEN I got the accordion.

So for the next assignment, while all of my musically talented friends were composing elaborate pieces on their violins and harps, I wrote a song for my accordion.  And on the day that we performed, I played with vigor and passion - - on that day I gave life to that accordion.

Ok, not really.  But I did actually compose the song, and I did actually perform it for my entire AP music genius class.  And it even though it was pretty lame, it was immensely rewarding.  Because on that day, I made my AP music teacher smile AND chuckle.

I'm pretty sure my AP music teacher hated all high school kids.  He was the teacher that was rarely seen in the halls, and when he did venture out of his classroom everyone would flatten against the walls to clear a path for him and his "I hate all teenagers" scowl.  And you never wanted to disrespect him or get in trouble in class, because he probably could shoot death rays from his eye sockets.

I guess he wasn't always like that though.  Because my mom was in his elite choir group when she was in high school and he was all young and fresh, and she said that he was "a lot of fun".  But then he got older and life had dealt him a whole lot of crap.  And really, even in the midst of his scowling, he was a pretty amazing guy (there was an article about him and trials he had gone through with his family in the Ensign once, because he's that amazing).  Plus if I had spent over 20 years teaching high school kids I'm pretty sure I'd get pretty scowly too.

BUT ON THAT DAY - the day I performed my non-award winning accordion piece - I MADE HIM SMILE.  And then he chuckled.  And then I passed the class and the big AP music test that gave me college credit.

So basically, my accordion is awesome.

The End.

Nov 21, 2011

this is about the time I ate at the best restaurant in Provo

I was making myself a salad for lunch today, and all we had was that gross bag salad with the little carrot slivers in them.  So then I was scrounging around in our fridge looking for ANYTHING that would make it taste better.  (Because bag salad with little carrot slivers is ultra grody.)  But we didn't have anything to add to it except for an almost rotten tomato and some generic croutons.

It was not a good salad.

So then I had to just pretend that I was eating this:

"This" being one of the amazing and tantalizingly yummiscious things I ate at La Jolla Groves the other day.  Do you so those white things?  Under the green leaves?  On top of the tomatoes?  THAT'S CHEESE.  And it was super yum.  I like cheese.

And then I ate even more cheese when I had some of this:

And then I ate lots and lots more really good food.  And guess what?  It was all HEALTHY.  Seriously.  I didn't even feel guilty as I was stuffing my face with all that deliciousness.

So basically, La Jolla Groves (which is a restaurant in Provo) pretty much spoiled me for ever and ever, and now when I have to gag down bag salad with little carrot slivers in it my taste buds feel majorly jipped.  Because I've had a taste of real live food, cooked by a real live executive chef, who wears a real live chef hat.


That's an executive chef hat.  (And under the hat is an executive chef.  And he's really nice.  And his food tastes like the clouds parted and then angels threw food of perfection from heaven that lands on plates with gorgeously arranged accuracy.  His food is seriously really GOOD.  And you can only get it at La Jolla Groves in Provo.  SO GO GET SOME, RIGHT NOW.)

And you can have this for dessert:

If that doesn't look like food thrown from heaven by an angel, I don't know what does.

La Jolla Groves compensated me for writing this with free lunch from heaven, and also they treated me like I was really important, which has never happened at a restaurant before, and I LIKED IT.  All the amazing photos were provided by Bryce Olsen Photography.

P.S. I promise to write a normal blog post eventually someday.  I've been sort of busy freaking out about not having Christmas presents.  But I PROMISE to not write sponsored posts for the rest of existence.

Nov 17, 2011

toy store heaven (also known as Blickenstaff's)

Does it seem like Christmas is coming really really fast this year?  (As apposed to previous years where it only came really fast, and not really really fast?)  Usually by this time of year I've cemented and possibly purchased the toys Santa will leave under our tree, but this year has been slightly stumping.

Which is one of the reasons why I really liked spending time at Blickenstaff's last saturday.  Because Blickenstaff's is toy heaven.  And I turn into a great big kid when confronted with toy heaven.  Because toys are really fun.

If you don't already know, Blickenstaff's is a Utah toy store that has cool vintage toys and candy and modern toys and did I mention candy?  (THEY HAVE A WALL OF CANDY.)  And the staff there will tell you all about the toys and then they'll let you touch everything and even play with the toys, if you want to.  And it's really hard to fight the urge to play when the place looks like this:

So basically, I got lots of Christmas toy ideas while I was there.  (And also I bought some slap watches for my Two Bits and Opie - shhhh, don't tell them.)  And also I won the game Banagrams, which was super awesome.  And I also ate some of their candy.  Which was also awesome.

But what I really REEEEEEEALLY want to get is the big ride on toy (it's big, it has pedals, I died of awesome when I saw it) that Blickenstaff's is giving away during the Lighting of the Riverwoods event tomorrow evening.

I'm obligated to tell you to come to The Shops at Riverwoods in Provo, tomorrow, November 18th, from 6-9 PM for their Christmas lighting event - BUT IF YOU SHOW UP AND WIN THE BIG RIDING TOY FROM BLICKENSTAFF'S INSTEAD OF ME, I WI LL HUNT YOU DOWN AND BEAT YOU UNTIL YOU GIVE THE TOY TO ME, AND ALSO YOU'LL HAVE TO PAY ME $500 JUST BECAUSE.

So now that we're clear on that, check out these cute monsters:

They're adorable, right? 

And just because I feel like you're not really believing me about this whole "wall of candy" thing, LOOK:

See, I'm no liar.

And just because I want to end this post on a Christmas-y note, check out these thick candy canes (I love them):

Blickenstaff's compensated me for writing this with free candy and awesomeness, and also I got smell their giant gingerbread house.  All the amazing photos were provided by Bryce Olsen Photography.

Nov 14, 2011

the saga of the portable heater

Once upon a time, or more specifically, tonight, I pulled out a small portable heater for the children's room.  Because it's in the basement and basements get cold.

And I said, "Children, don't touch this heater, and don't get near this heater, and don't put your toys or papers or anything by this heater."

But when the children hear "don't touch this" they automatically think, "sweet, I'm going to go touch that".  So I had to instill the proper amount of fear in them so that the heater wouldn't be played with (which is called "good parenting" in some cultures, possibly).

And I said, "If you touch this heater, or put things in it or near it, it will start a fire and burn down our house.  Or you will get burned and it will hurt.  A lot."

Except that Opie took my much too seriously.  Which tends to happen.  Frequently.  And Opie is very very talented in the way of freaking out.  Like, the other day, he had a fingernail that needed trimmed. And usually we don't have to trim his nails because he chews them.  Because he's a person of the nervous sort, and chewing fingernails kind of falls into that category sometimes.  But this particular fingernail was on his broken pinky finger, so it was wrapped up for a month and didn't get chewed off.  Hence, the needed trimming.  But Opie was afraid that we'd accidentally chop off his finger or something, even though we were only using baby nail scissors.  And he wouldn't let us get near his finger.  So then Husband had to grab him and put him in a headlock.  And then I had to trap his legs so he couldn't kick out of it.  And then we had to pin his arms so that they couldn't move.  And THEN we were able to trim his pinky fingernail.  And you would not believe the amount of screaming and time that involved.  Because Opie is VERY VERY talented in the way of freaking out.

So when Opie heard, "You will burn the house down", he started thinking about his toys going up in an inferno, and then he started freaking out about it.  Loudly.  So we checked the smoke detector to show him that we would know if there was a fire and be able to save his toys.  But when the smoke detector did it's "we're checking you" beep Opie decided that it was phenomenally scary.

And since Opie was screaming and crying and carrying on, that made Monkey start screaming and crying and carrying on.  And then Number Four started screaming and crying and carrying on.  And there was a lot of screaming and crying and carrying on.

So Husband and I stayed downstairs trying to descarify the children for about 15 minutes.  But when we turned the light off and came up stairs, guess what?

SCREAMING AND CRYING AND CARRYING ON.  And it just wouldn't stop.

So then I had to go back down the stairs.  And I had to turn on the light.  And I had to have all the children get out of bed to check out the "scary" portable heater and look inside of it, and touch the "scary" lights on the top of it, and also I had to go into great detail on how it worked and why it would not in fact burn the house down.

And then, Monkey tried to put his finger in it.  Where the fan was.  So then I had to go into great detail about how we never put our fingers in a fan.  Then Monkey says, "But I can put my face in it and talk funny."  And then I had have an in depth conversation about never putting our tongues in a fan.  Or our toes.  Or our hair.  Or our toys.  Or our bums.  (You never know what Monkey will decide to stick in a fan, so we covered pretty much everything.)

Then, FINALLY, I made the children get back in their beds and I attempted to turn off the light.


The children were horribly afraid of the smoke detector going off.  Because IT BEEPS and it's SCARY.  So I showed them how I could stand underneath it, and it wouldn't beep.  And then I showed them how if I walked past it over and over it wouldn't beep.  And then I showed them that I could jump under it and wouldn't beep.  And it wouldn't beep if I waved my arms, or yelled at it, or put a toy by it, or looked at it, or thought about it from across the room.

And then I turned the light off.

But Number Four was still not convinced.  And I was out of ideas.  So I rocked her like a baby in the rocking chair.  For about 5 minutes.  Except that Monkey thinks he is Number Four's twin, so if she gets rocked like a baby, then so does he.  So I rocked him for about 5 minutes.

And just when it was looking like everyone had FINALLY calmed down and was going to sleep, Opie says, "If my favorite toy got burned up in a fire, I would be really sad."

AND ALL OF THAT WORK WAS UNDONE.  All the rocking and the jumping and the explaining and the  45 minutes of effort - WORTHLESS.

Until I outsmarted them all and brought up Santa.  And then they were all so excited to tell me what toys they wanted for Christmas I was able to slip out of there in no time.  Which really makes me wish I would have thought about bringing up Santa in the first place.

And who cares that I sort of promised them a pony and 3 puppies on Christmas day - THEY'RE ASLEEP NOW, and that's all that matters.

The End.

Nov 10, 2011

you have to pop your head up here. POP

I just sat my husband down, and looked at him as seriously as possible, and said, "I want lots of money.  So you need to figure out how to supply me with cash, RIGHT NOW."


Except that I wasn't even joking.  At all.

I should have married a brain surgeon.  They make lots of money.

Wait.  Scratch that.  Brain surgeons have to go through lots of expensive medical school, and they also have to, like, work.  And stuff.

I should have married someone independently wealthy that inherited his billions of dollars from the death of an obscure relative.

If only I had a time machine.

Or access to an alternate realty.

Or just lots of money of my own.


Last spring, when we first got our ipad, my kids kept secretly recording videos of themselves.  And while I think multiple movie clips of sustained farting noises are as hilarious as the next fully grown adult female (which basically means they're not really that funny) I had to delete most of the videos.  But there was one that we all find to be particularly hilarious.

Probably because there are no farting noises at all in this one.  And the angle is great, because they just sat the ipad on a chair so the camera was pointed up their noses the whole time.  And also, do you see how my old house had vaulted ceilings?  (I still miss my old house.....sniff.)

So, yeah, here you go - a video of my children's secret recording session:

Nov 5, 2011

the time that Johnny Depp showered at my house

I never told you guys something awesome that I did.  Well, sort of awesome.....ish.

It's no secret that my fear of psycho-stalker-rapist-killers hiding behind a shower curtain runs deep in my veins.  I don't like my shower curtain to be closed EVER.  (Unless someone is coming over and I haven't cleaned my tub and I don't want them to see my mildew or whatever, and then I'll pull it closed to hide the tub, and then I'll open it back up the second they're gone, and while someone is over and it's closed and I have to use the bathroom I absolutely have to check behind the shower curtain before using the toilet, and in fact, I will check behind someone else's shower curtain before I use the bathroom if I'm at their house and their shower curtain is closed.)

Husband thinks this is lunacy.

Except that it's NOT.  I'm sure psycho-stalker-rapist-killers hide behind shower curtains ALL THE TIME.

So, to prove my point on how scary it would be to find a psycho-stalker-rapist-killer in the bathroom behind the shower curtain, one night I took my life size Johnny Depp/Captain Jack Sparrow cardboard cut out and put him in the tub.  And I positioned him so that when Husband woke up the next morning, and he went to turn on the water, he would first see the sword wielding pirate and hopefully pee himself.  And after Johnny Depp/Captain Jack Sparrow was positioned perfectly I, of course, closed the shower curtain so that he was hiding sufficiently until morning.

It looked like this (actually it looked like this BEFORE I closed the curtain):

(sorry, grainy iphone picture.  also, this was back in like April, before my husband was gone for two months and before we moved and before I was all boring and surgery-ish.)

So, the next morning, I expected Husband to scream like a little girl and stuff, right?  I was all sorts of excited about it.  But when the time came, Husband didn't even make a noise.  And he just took Johnny Depp/Captain Jack Sparrow out of the tub and took his shower.

It was totally a buzz kill.

But he never actually told me if he peed himself.  Probably because he was too embarrassed for being that scared of something behind a shower curtain.

Nov 3, 2011

KIDS (this one's for you, mom)

I can tell that Monkey is my son.

He looks mucho a lot-o like his dad.  Except for his ears, we're not really sure where they came from,or his lack in booty.  Because if it's one thing we do well here, it's growing big booties.  All of us except for Monkey.  He's practically booty-less.  So his pants fall down constantly, and he doesn't care so much to pull them back up.


I know that Monkey is my son because the other day I wanted him to run downstairs and get something.  Downstairs is the kids' room, and they have a big tv down there that's not really hooked up to anything, so they only frequently watch movies on it.  But it's there, nonetheless.

And when I said, "Yo Monkey, go downstairs and get that thing."
Monkey said, "NOOOOOOOO!"

So then I said, "Why not?  Just run.  Go.  Do it now."

And he said, "I don't want to.  It's scary."

And I said, "Why is it scary?"

And he said, "If I go down there, the tv will turn on all by itself and scare me."

And then I led an inquisition into who told my precious 4 year old that the tv would turn on by itself. And then I found out that no one had told him, he was just afraid that it might happen, JUST BECAUSE.

And that's how I know he's MY son.

I can't even walk past a tv without thinking about that girl from The Ring.

Also, while we're on the topic of my Monkey son; I was working on the computer today and he came into the room with a crayon and coloring book.

And then he said, "I brought you this picture to color!"

And I said, "Oh really?"

And he said, "Yeah!  You color this picture while I play games on the 'puter!!"

And I said, "You just want me to get off the computer so you can play games."

And he said, "See?!  You can color like this!  On your own picture!!"

And I said, "So I color, and you play games?"

And then he got all big and grinny and said, "Yup!"

So then I let him play the computer.  That kid LOVES his computer games.  Except that I never colored in his book, which is ok, because he colored that page later anyway.

And now I will unceremoniously end this post with a bunch of random pictures from my memory card that I politely labelled so no one would get confused as to their content: