because I really can't get enough of myself

Buckling two year old Monkey into his carseat today: Monkey (hand flapping = monkeyspeak for hot): "HOT!" Me: "Yeah" Monkey (flap): "HOT!" Me: "A little bit" Monkey (flap flap): "HOT! HOT!!" Me: "I know." Monkey (flap): "HOT!!" Me: "Yes, HOT. I get it." Monkey (doing baby asl for milk): "Bottle?" Me: "No, you don't need a bottle." Monkey (milk): "BOTTLE?" Me: "Nope." Monkey: "BOTTLE?!!!!" Me: "No." Monkey (flaying arms - which is no sign language of any kind): "BOTTLE!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH !!" And then I shut the door. What? You thought there would be a punch line? Nope. Motherhood is enrapturing.

I did something wrong last night. I caught a late show with my cousin. 'Fired Up' - don't waste you money or time, it was pathetic and offensive and immature and stupid. But that's not the worst part of the night. We live in the farmland turned suburbs. The major street that leads out to our houses hasn't kept up with the growth. It doesn't have street lights or sidewalks. (At least they put in more stoplights so people would quit smashing their cars together.) That's why we knew she was in trouble when we saw her. Walking erratically on the side of this inadequate street was a barefoot and deeply impaired teenage girl. We were instantly worried. People speed down this street regularly, and the girl was hard to see in the dark. Not to mention this was a wednesday night at 11:30 - which seemed an odd time for someone so young to be wandering the streets in this condition (school isn't even out for summer yet.) I was driving so I handed my cell pho

I've decided that just the words "summer vacation" scare me. Yes, my oldest is in Kindergarten, which makes this fear of having the kids home seem somewhat premature. But let me just tell you something: At 12:45 PM every week day, I have deposited two children on separate buses and two other children in beds, leaving me completely alone. In the quiet. For two hours (give or take.) I NEED THIS ALONE TIME. It's for sanity reasons mainly. But it's also my work time. And my cleaning time. And my 'catch up on the shows that I missed by watching them online' time. And my 'read everyone's blog posts that I've missed in the past 5 days' time. And sometimes it's my 'pretend to read a book, but know that I'm really going to fall asleep on the couch' time. It's just not the same when the kids are bouncing all over the place, screaming from their lungtops, and scribbling on all the hard surfaces in the kitchen with crayons

I've been nominated to be in the Creative Home Arts Club. I'm pretty sure it's something prestigious because they sent me a free magnet AND 10 page notepad. And I got to scratch off one of those "let's see what prizes you've won" things, which usually accompany any mail of importance. (Except that I'm also pretty sure this is a club for old women. The insert was covered in over sized fonts and cheesy clipart .) Catch is: you have to pay a monthly membership fee and send reports on all the products they've given you to review. Yeah, that free magnet isn't sounding so awesome anymore, is it? One of my pet peeves is when manufacturers put coupons and things INSIDE of food packages. (Another pet peeve is when my rugs are crooked - but I just straightened them before sitting down to blog, so we don't need to talk about that.) I just pulled some trading cards out of a package of sliced ham. There they were, all snuggled up next to the sli

I generally try not to get all picture postey here -I save that for the family blog; plus you know, psycho kidnappers can see this- but I have very adorable children and it would really be a shame not to show them off to the ENTIRE world (or my small number of readers, whatever.) Except that I'm a cheap-o, and I also like to change the pictures on our wall frequently, so I do all of our photography myself. Some habits just can't be professionally supported. We'll go oldest to youngest - because that's how life goes. And if you happen to be a middle child (like myself) you just get used to being second best....or second in line I mean. Ok, I don't really feel that way - I actually like being the middle child because then I can socially justify my need to be an obnoxious attention getting rule breaker. I just wish I could do the job more effectively... So getting back to my kids. Here is Two Bits: I know, she's gorgeous (even if she is the female version of

Another post from my past. This one's a gem - something truly embarrassing. Except that I won't have to see any of your faces while you read about my naivety, and therefore I don't feel the least bit disinclined to post it. When I went to college I was very, wholly, extremely naive. It's a wonder I survived on my own really. I was 18, and even though I thought I knew what was going on, I was a numbskull (probably a common characteristic of 18 year olds released into freedom.) A couple months into this new life my roommate wanted to visit a boy. I had met this boy and his roommate a few days prior, so I was invited along. We also took our quiet, well behaved roommate with us because we needed someone to drive. Keep in mind that I did not go to a church school (ie. Ricks or BYU) and therefore had no rules to break - because, even at 18, I knew that rules and I don't go so well together. Except that up to that point my idea of rebellion was staying out an hour p

Dear Me, Happy stinking Mother's Day. You thought being a mother would be so great, didn't you? That your kids would be plump cheeked and easy to please? That you would be able to handle each precious child with happiness and ease? You were wrong. Motherhood is kicking your butt, and you know it. Like yesterday when Opie was about to poop in his pull up - again - so he was rushed to the toilet just in time to smear poop over multiple surfaces? Remember that? Remember screaming, "WIPE YOUR BUTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!" repeatedly until you had to give yourself a time out? Yeah, that wasn't fabulous at all. And remember on wednesday, the 572nd time Monkey came to you crying, "Owie owie owie owie owie owie owie!!!" and you didn't even look at him and just muttered, "You're fine, stop crying." Remember? That wasn't very nurturing, was it? How damaging is that to his little psyche? And do you recall when you found out you were pregna

A blog worthy topic is eluding me (once again.) So in an effort for inspiration I threw the first word I could think of at Husband who had to give me his first effortless response. My word was 'pineapple.' Husband's was 'pokey.' To which I replied, "How am I supposed to write a blog post about the word POKEY?!" But after playing the game, I really feel a duty to post accordingly. Plus, pokey things can be much more interesting than.....oh.......I really don't know.....something more boring? If something more boring actually exists. So here goes: POKEY: an essay Growing up, we were lacking a side yard. We had the land, and I guess what you could technically call a side. But the yard part - not really. The rest of the yard was fine. And every summer my mom would plant flowers along the front of the house. Most of the time she'd plant marigolds. They grow like crazy, you know. They also smell horrific. You may not agree with me - perhaps you a

This is an excellent movie. I just got back from watching it with my cousin who had already seen it and knew that it would be perfect for me to see. I related to this movie in so many ways. Every mother who has a child who does things that don't make sense, that don't fit into molds, that raise questions, that truly have extra problems to work through need to see this movie. To know that you're not the only one who gets frustrated and angry and overwhelmed , and the thought of dealing with it makes you want to run as far and fast as you can go, and escape everything. Everything. To know that your child isn't doing things on purpose, that they don't mean to make it so hard, that they want to do whats right, but that it's hard, and not always in their power to choose the right actions. To know that no matter how many eyes are on you; how many people, ignorantly blind, judge something that they cannot understand, and how many comments spoken or not you rec

In case you didn't know - today is friday. As of 51 minutes ago, according to my clock. Which also means that I'm doing my very first FREEEEEBIE FRIDAY over at Green Jello with Carrots. You can get this, all day, for free: If you teach a Young Women's class, you really need to have this. It's handout ideas for lessons 16-19 (manual 1.) There are two ideas per lesson, and they come as pdf files so that all you have to do is: 1. CLICK 2. Watch the little download bar go. 3. Open file 4. See that they're all situated on a page so that you can print up to 4 at a time. 5. PRINT 6. CUT And did I mention that today it's all FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE? But tomorrow it's going to cost money, so get over there already. ALSO Here is a button, for those of you who are my real friends and will advertise for me at no cost. I better see this thing everywhere!!!!! Ok, really, if you put this on your blog I will love you until the day we're all sitting around in the Celestial