because I really can't get enough of myself

Dearest Blogworldland, I didn't mean to ignore you.  I've just been busy.  I still like you, I promise.  Really.  Cross my heart and hope to fart (is that how it goes, or is it "hope to die"?  Because I really don't plan on dying anytime soon.  Farting though?  Who knows when that will happen, it could be anytime now.) Once life gets back to normal, like say, January sometime-ish, I will return to the land of bloggingdomville, and rejoice greatly in it's awesome splendor. Probably. Sincerely & with deepest adoration, moi 

Christmas disaster averted.  It seems like angels won't be plunging down from heaven after all.  Because you know that Leapfrog LeapPad I wanted to get so bad?  Well, it has a rival: the Vtech Kids Innotab.  And I ordered one yesterday. It went like this:  I checked websites for Toys R Us, Walmart, Target and Vtech Kids all at the same time.  (Literally, the same time.  Because I'm a phenomenal shopping multitasker like that.)  Target didn't have any Innotabs, but the other sites did.  Which was a pretty huge miracle already. But I had to make sure I was getting the best deal possible so I clicked around for about 4 minutes looking for coupon codes and such.  And then I decided to buy through Toys R Us, and in the amount of time that it took to click "put this item in your cart" the Vtech Kids website updated saying they were sold out.  And then once I made it through "confirm your payment" they were also sold out at Walmart.  And it wasn't

Apparently I've turned into one of those parents that scrambles and searches and tries everything possible to get the season's hottest toy for their kid.  Because I decided that Number Four NEEEEEEEEEEDS to have a Leapfrog LeapPad for Christmas. Except they're all sold out. EVERYWHERE. Except for Ebay, where you can bid against all the other parents that are scrambling and searching and trying everything possible to get one.  During the past month I've bid on about 20 different Leapster LeapPads.  But all the auctions are ending at DOUBLE the cost, and it's not like it's a cheap toy to begin with. And now I'm really starting to stress out.  Because what if I can't actually get Number Four a Leapfrog LeapPad?!  I'm almost certain the world will stop revolving.  And Christmas will be ruined.  And probably angels will start plunging down from heaven because their wings will just suddenly disappear.  It will be a DISASTER, I tell you! So. If

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"? IT'S TOTALLY CONFUSING. 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 tipping....like 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

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 als

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.

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 Ch

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

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." AND HE LAUGHED. 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. IN OTHER NEWS.... 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 de

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

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. BUT THAT'S NOT THE POINT. 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 i

Oh, Halloween.  You're so.......not as much fun this year. The proof: 1) I didn't even hang our decorations this year.  Because, you know, meh. 2) Nobody gets a new costume.  Usually everyone gets a new one.  This year we're doing repeats. 3) We have craptastic candy.  Because Husband picked it this year instead of me.  Usually I at least get those big cheap bags with tootsie roll stuff in them.  Actually, I didn't know there was anything cheaper than those big bags with tootsie roll stuff.  Apparently there is.  And that's what we're handing out this year. 4) No church trunk-or-treat.  Which means we have to actually walk door to door and do regular trick-or-treating if we want candy.  Which is a pain.  I LIKE TO BE LAZY.  5) The weather can't decide if it's cold or warm.  Make up your mind, weather.  I need to know how many layers to throw on my kids so we can NOT be lazy and walk door to door. 6) I think Halloween is amplifying the evil

Every once in awhile my stone cold heart betrays me.  Usually I can keep a pretty steady demeanor of unaffected "whatever"ness when it comes to things like crying and.....ok, pretty much just crying.  Because crying is evil and I hate doing it. Then I'll suddenly have a day when my extra womanly hormones kick in, or my "not enough sleep" meter fills up, or the evil fairies of crying torture find me and then EVERYTHING makes me tear up.  And it's super obnoxious. This morning I was trying to answer emails, and Monkey wanted to play this game he created where every time I say "slugger monkey" he jumps on his hands and knees around the room.  Except he could only jump once for each time I said it.  And saying "slugger monkey" every half second while trying to type emails got old pretty fast so I put on my super excited face and said, "Let's listen to music and you can dance!"  So then I turned on pandora and the third son

I've been watching a lot of sci-fi during the past week and a half.  (Basically, my ipad and netflix have been my constant companions.)  And there's just one thing that I really have to ask:  Why are we building robots?! (I'm looking at you, Japan.) I think it's pretty clear by now that if humans are ever going to be overthrown as the dominate power on this planet it's going to happen at the hands of ROBOTS. Sure, they start as simple machines.  But then we have to make them look more like people, and then we give them personalities, and then eventually along the robotic evolutionary path they start becoming self-aware, and then the next thing you know they realize that they are stronger, smarter and just plain more awesome than human beings, and THERE GOES THE HUMAN RACE. It's all so obvious.  Otherwise they wouldn't have so many shows about it.  Plus also, it just makes sense.  So stop making robots (Japan), because I like being the dominate power

You know when you can't laugh, because you know it will cause excruciating pain, but then something hilarious happens and you keep telling yourself, "don't laugh, don't laugh, GAH, DON'T LAUGH", until your body betrays you and you let out one really huge guffaw, and then you die in excrutiating pain? I HATE THAT. So, I survived surgery. Before the actual surgery the dr was all, "oh, THAT little hernia that has been causing you large quantities of pain for over 3 years? So not a big deal, the surgery is a piece of cake." (And this was after he killed me, as explained previously by way of cartoons.) Then, after the surgery, the dr was all, "yeah, you had the most painful lapriscopic surgery possible, which requires 9 incisions and a 6x6 inch piece of mesh, so, like I said before, piece of cake." AND He knew all along that I would be having "the most painful lapriscopic surgery", from the very beginning. But did he war

Tomorrow, at noon, I will be carved like a turkey. Ok, FINE, it's just laparoscopic surgery, BUT STILL. I'm not really excited for it to happen.  Not because the idea of surgery really scares me.  This will be the 11th surgery I've had - at this point, surgery is just kind of annoying.  (Well, at least THIS surgery is.  My eyeball surgeries were really painful, so yeah, those were moved beyond annoying and into NEVER AGAIN.) The most annoying thing about having surgery is stuff like being forced to wear a hospital gown and not being allowed a bra.  Because I guess it's easier to resuscitate someone during surgery when their boobs are all flopping around.  Or something. And they tell you not to wear stuff like mascara or deodorant.  Which is really lame.  They won't be anywhere near my eyelashes or armpits on this one, so I'm totally wearing both.  And I might even have on eyeliner.  And chapstick.  Because I'm a huge chapstick wearing rebel.  And wha

I think about worms a lot.  When I was in jr high we had a parasitical worm section and my biology teacher was slightly, um, memorable.  (He was a total weirdo.)  And he told us all about how everyone has worms because they're so easy to get.  And how he's seen doctors remove little kids eyeballs because they thought they saw a tumor in there, but it turned out just to be a worm. It was majorly creepy.  So now I'm constantly worried that I have worms.  And everytime I have an eyebooger I'm like, "aaaaah, is it a worm?!"  But I'm hoping that with as often as doctors look at my eyeballs they'd be able to tell if there was a worm in there by now.  (And I'm just going to ignore the other 500 places in a human body that a worm can hide, so don't even mention it ok?) switching gears now You know what I think is annoying?  (Besides the obvious things like claw bangs and Bob Saget.)  On tv or movies when someone is trying to be really covert by s

I have hermit-ish tendencies.  Or more aptly put, I NEVER LEAVE MY HOUSE. At first it was my kids' fault.  Because for years I had little tiny kids that were a major pain in the butt to take anywhere.  Just the thought of getting in the car was enough of a deterrent. I always had to plan an extra 7-12 minutes for each time I had to buckle all of them in their carseats.  And how often is it that you just need to go one place when you're out?  NEVER.  So there would be the whole, buckle, unbuckle, buckle, unbuckle, buckle, unbuckle routine until I was so tired of seatbelts I never wanted to get in a car again. I used to be able to leave in the evenings though.  And run away for awhile to exotic places like the library or Shopko.  And I only had to worry about buckling myself in.  And I could play really loud hard rock in the car without having to worry about damaging baby psychies or eardrums.  And it sort of kept me from being so much of a hermit that my neighbors forgot wha

I am writing from my deathbed, also known as my couch. I went to a dr today, and he pretty much, sort of, really, kind of, KILLED ME. (With excruciating pain and torment. I think he might be Satan.) So, to backtrack, I've been ignoring something for about, oh, 3 1/2 years. Partly because before Husband got his new job we had the worst health insurance EVER.  And partly because I had to fix my eyes first.  And partly because I was hoping that if I ignored it long enough, it would just GO AWAY.  Like magic.  Or a stray dog. But no. Pretty much it's just gotten worse. And worse. And really super worse. And basically my whole abdominal region is thoroughly messed up. Probably I'm the champion at messed up abdominals. I should really get a medal or trophy or something. Instead, all I've gotten is pain, sickness, pain, more sickness, pain, pain and mostly a whole lot of pain. And the past few-ish months it's gotten to the point where life pretty much sucks t

I've often wished I could have a mechanical pocket door that slides closed when I push a button.  Actually a few of those doors.  That way I can put them on my kids's bedrooms (someday when we don't live in this house and they actually have bedrooms anyway) so that I can stand all scary looking outside the door and say something authoritative like, "you will clean this room" or "you're grounded" and then push the button, and the door will slide closed while I'm still looking all scary.  And maybe I'll do an evil laugh or make my eyes glow or something.  And then, of course, the doors would automatically lock upon  closing so my kids would HAVE to do what I tell them before they can get out.  Because I would be the only one with the door opening codes. And then all their crap would be cleaned up.  And it would be great. We signed Opie up for flag football.  And then I forgot about orientation until it was already over.  (In my defense I w

I think life would be easier if I were a robot.  But not like one of those ugly metal things with a monotone digital voice.  I think I would still want to look human but with perfect robot abs and perfect robot hair and perfect perky robot boobs and other perfect robot parts (like elbows).  That still look human.  And I would have to be programmed to blink, because things look really creepy when they don't blink, and I would want to CHOOSE when to look creepy, not have it be constant.  You know? If I were a robot, I would never get sore throats.  That would have been appreciated this week, let me tell you.  Sore throats are horrible, because I can't even yell at my kids or make sound effects or anything.  And robots are excellent at sound effects, plus also, I would have a volume control so I could yell loud enough to shake the neighbor's windows. And the volume control would come in really handy when my kids are doing their own yelling.  If you look back in my archiv

I made the grossest dinner tonight.  It was disturbingly horrid.  I had to eat in the other room so I could gag it down and then yell to the kids, "Eat your dinner!  It's good!  Just plug your nose first, or something."  I'm not even going to tell you what was in it (so don't ask, I will never tell).  Just know that I totally made it up with the ingredients we had in our pantry and the idea of it sounded edible enough when I was putting it together.  But sometimes things work out way better in my head than they do in real life. I think that's going to be my life motto. Here, you can even pin it on pinterest: (Is it lame to pin your own pictures on your own pinterest board?  Because I'M TOTALLY GOING TO.) To change the subject -to something possibly grosser- there's a continuing debate that goes on in our house that has recently surfaced due to the now potty trained Monkey.  The debate is about rump wiping, and if it's better to fold or wa

I'm pretty sure that Cereal (our pet praying mantis) is the dumbest insect of his species. He's all huge because he shed his skin, which was super really gross, and came out about half an inch longer than before.  And he must have shed some brain cells too, because now he's just an idiot. Cereal loves to hang out at the top of his bug habitat, upside down.  Husband says this is normal for praying matises (praying manti?)  But over the past week-ish, he keeps falling from his ceiling perch.  And then he clambers back up, just to fall down again. See? He's DUMB. I'm thinking we need to get him some special praying mantis lessons.  Something along the lines of "How Not to Fall On Your Head, IN 3 EASY STEPS!" Or maybe we just need to get him a little buggy harness, with an automated pulley system.  We're wondering if he's sick or dying or something.  But he still seems to be eating ok.  Last night he ate a whole cricket in about 90 seconds. 

Once again I find myself on the precipice of "I really ought to go to bed" and "I really don't want to go to bed".  And as I ponder this decision it's like I have a little angel and devil on my shoulders.  Just like in cartoons. Except that it's not really an angel or a devil. And they're not really little.  Or cartoon-like. What it's more like is me arguing both points of view, with myself, in different voices. And I flip my head to the right or the left depending on which point of view I'm presenting.  And sometimes I make hand motions. In a high, innocent voice (and facing right) I say, "You know your lazy rear will never get out of bed in the morning if you don't grab some unisom and get in bed RIGHT NOW." And then in a low, slightly satanic voice (and facing left) I say, "Yes, but it's so much fun to stay up late and write stupid blog posts, so go ahead and take your unisom and stick it up your aaa.....&q

On saturday Two Bits was baptized and confirmed a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.  That's a pretty humongous milestone.  And it remains a mystery to me how she got so old and so smart and so gorgeous and so amazing, so fast . Also, it occurs to me that I never wrote her special "this is Two Bit's story" on her birthday last year when I had vowed to write birthday posts to my kids.  I neglected to write her special post, because, most likely, I am a horrible horrible undedicated parent that doesn't deserve such an old, smart, gorgeous, amazing daughter. Or, because I was saving it for NOW.  This is Two Bit's story: Two Bits was (obviously) my first baby.  When we found out that she was a girl, we ran to the mall (or the tiny strip of pathetic stores that Moscow Idaho calls a mall) and bought her a pink outfit.  And then lots more pink outfits.  And then we were given even more pink outfits. Being my first baby, I should hav