Friday, April 29, 2011

We're all rootin' for 'em

photo here

The dress was gorgeous - timeless. Elegant. Classy.
The veil to-die-for.
Loved the uniform tribute to lost comrades.
Loved Pippa's dress.
Loved the kisses - and the giggles.
Loved the millions cheering them on.

And Wills? If you ever cheat on her, I'll kill you.

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

In which I shall speak words of wisdom

So I'm convinced that PLANNING is the key to SUCCESS.

And I am equally convinced that sometimes you need to throw the plan out the window.

Because sometimes, when you're making dinner, you notice a couple hot air balloons landing the next block over.

And you have to turn the burner off - and go see it.





And sometimes, when you just got back from a long bike ride, you find out that your HOA is releasing 250,000 ladybugs.


And you have to guzzle your water - and go see it.






And sometimes, your kids are knock-you-down precious and wonderful and perfect -

And you should put down what you're doing - because you need to see that, too.






Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Dump

So I'm long overdue for some Thought Dumping on this 'ere Pensieve of mine. I asked y'all some questions a while back, but didn't tell you MY answers. Thoroughly unfair. So here I go.


Essential Oils.

I have some friends that are totally into them. A couple are convinced that oils could cure the national debt, if applied correctly. But most use them in conjunction with practical use of the medical community. I fall in the latter category.

I became a convert when lavender oil cleared up the NBC's eczema completely. No, really. Hydrocortisone didn't work. Lotions didn't work. Lavender oil. It works.

I also rub peppermint oil on upset tummies, but it may be placebo effect. That's okay. It smells nice.

Homeschooling/Deep Thoughts on Parenting

This is big for me, and hard to put concisely into a vague white space on the internet. There was a lot of behind-the-scenes pondering and praying going on behind the following emotional vomit.

Essentially, I started listing all the reasons I want to homeschool, and all the reasons I wouldn't want to. I came up with exactly ONE reason I didn't want to.

But.

All the reasons I do want to homeschool? Every. Single. One of them. About me. About what *I* want.

Not my kids. Me. I was being utterly selfish.

Additionally, almost all of the 'pros,' upon further scrutiny, are NOT exclusive to homeschooling. With some better planning and organization, I CAN do morning devotionals. I CAN spend more time with Little Prince if I have dinner ready before he gets home from school. I CAN take him on awesome field trips and hands-on learning experiences if I use his half-days, Saturdays, and holidays wisely.

I CAN. And I WILL.

I'm at peace with it now. Thank you.

Into the Woods

I know a lot of you liked it. But to be honest - I didn't. There was a bitter undertone that gave me a sick feeling in my stomach. (And I doubt peppermint oil could have helped.)

*spoiler alert! If you haven't seen it, but want to, don't read the following paragraphs*

We purposely didn't stay for the second half after my mom told us about it. The princes get sick of their wives? The baker's wife grows bored with her husband? Seduction and adultery and "real life"?

I object.

There were warning signs around the theater - and in the program - and announced before the show started - that Act II would not be appropriate for children. Because it told the "true story" of "what happens after happily ever after."

Well, Mr. Whoever-wrote-Into-the-Woods. I'm LIVING the true story of AFTER happily ever after. And it's better than ever. 

I could rant about this for at least another hour, but I won't.

The songs were fun. (I especially liked the princes' "Agony" - and the witch's songs.) And I liked that they stuck (for the most part) to the original Brothers Grimm. The set was incredible, the actors talented, the costumes divine. But the plot? It made me feel very sorry for the playwright, if that's how he really views life.

*******************

Also, I'm thinking that it's a terrible time to start dieting right when two kids are sick.

Are you having any thoughts today?

Monday, April 25, 2011

In which we're total teenagers

Okay, have you heard of Brian Regan? If not, you should. Hence why I'm talking about him. Basically he's the greatest stand-up comic ever, and we quote him all the time.

So he does this bit on greeting cards - including "Just Because" cards. I mean, you could send a hundred Just Because cards to someone in the phone book, and they can't even ask why you did it, right?!

So that's what we did.


We sent some to family, some to friends, some to random phone book people, and a couple celebrities.

And of course we had to send one to Brian Regan himself.


And Obama. I mean, why not? I bet he actually reads this one. It's hilarious. At any rate, his security team will get a good laugh.


All in all, we sent out twelve bits of sunshine into the abyss that is the United States Postal System.

And we laughed our heads off doing it.

Sunday, April 24, 2011

In which I should totally get some free ties

So Easter is a total GIRL thing, you know? Frilly, pink dresses everywhere I see. Lace. Hats. Flowers. It gets annoying.

There ain't much frilly stuff at our house. Or pink, for that matter.

But then I discovered the Matching Tie Guy. And I now know that boys CAN be fun to shop for.

Oh yeah. Ohhhhhhh yeah.



Matching Tie Guy, how I love thee.



My sweet sister took pictures of our matching-ness after church today. The NBC was quite upset that we were delaying his lunch for such a paltry reason as recording something like Easter.

The only time he halfway smiled toward the camera was the only time no one else was.Of course.

And then we started making bunny ears.


And it was all good fun from there.



Three cheers for my sister! She's the best.

Easter Countdown - Day 8

He really does live. Again.

Saturday, April 23, 2011

Friday, April 22, 2011

Thursday, April 21, 2011

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Monday, April 18, 2011

In which I stuff myself with an abnormally large hot dog. And enjoyed it very much.

Date night this week: BASEBALL!!!!!!!

There's something about walking into a baseball stadium. You tingle. The smell of sweat and excitement is tangible. Kids running everywhere, fat and calories soaking into your skin. Bubbles of happiness coursing up from my toes.

I grew up in a total baseball family. We all played it (though I didn't play well). But my three brothers were good. Really good. Dad was on the committee. Mom headed the umpires. Devoted Tigers fans, here.

No jokes.

It's been a good ten years since I've been to a game. Too long.



Here's me asking if my highlights look too blonde. What do you think?



iPhones are fun.


Root for the HOME TEAM! Not the Diamondbacks, of course - us!

Easter Countdown - Day 2

Sunday, April 17, 2011

Easter Countdown - Day 1

Sunday, a palm leaf - Mark 11: 7-10

Easter countdown

One of my favorite things about blogging is how inspired I am by all of YOU. For some time now I've been pondering how to make Easter more meaningful. Inspired by Jocelyn and Janae, I'm joining them in an Easter countdown.

Janae had found these awesome hollow wooden eggs last year, and I basically fell in love. My mom and I painted all last week to turn them into true treasures. I'm sure they'll get beat up and nicked as the years go by, but I know they'll turn into priceless heirlooms just the same. I have visions of presenting hand painted Easter Countdown eggs to my sons when they get married.




We plan on having a little devotional every morning this week. First we'll sing the Primary Song, "He Sent His Son" and then open the egg. Read the enclosed scripture and talk about what it means to you. Personal application is the key.

I also got a couple Easter books to read throughout the week. I hope to add to my Easter library every year!

I started with these two:


May the Easter spirit be with each of you this week, as we celebrate the best news the earth has ever received -

He is risen!

Thursday, April 14, 2011

it hurts to type

carpal tunnel stinks

the end

Monday, April 11, 2011

In which I take "Deep Thoughts" to a whole new level


I felt impressed to bring some cookies to a friend today. In the back of my mind I wondered if she were having a bad morning - or on her period - or didn't have ingredients for an FHE treat. 

What I didn't realize is that I was the one needing the visit. 

We got to talking about 5Pillars, books, writing, and self-improvement.  Just your average nine-o-clock-in-the-morning-conversation. 

She is struggling with improving her writing, seeking a way to better express herself. I confessed that I don't write what I truly feel, either - at least not in class. I hide behind humor and bad Irish accents. I confessed that I have a blog. And I confessed how much I struggle with being the only non-homeschooler in the group. I feel judged, and worse, I feel that people think I'm judging them. (Which is a judgment, but let's not go down that road ....)

And she saw me. She looked into my eyes and saw that the reason I struggle is because I'm not sure. I'm not sure if I'm doing the right thing. Words can only hurt weaknesses. "No one can stab my testimony," she said. "Because I'm sure of it. I'm safe there. I'm at peace with the gospel." 

I plunged. I felt myself dive deep down, breaking down walls and doors that I had kept locked inside. I exhumed each emotion, turning it over and over in my head, examining my frailties and questioning each motive. I struggled to maintain the conversation while my thoughts swirled a mile a minute. 

A hug. A goodbye. A walk to the park. 

My children buried themselves in sand while my vision tunneled. 

How do I really feel about homeschooling? What do I fear? Why would I want to? I've always admired homeschoolers. I have defended them in many a forum. I admire. I applaud. I commend. 

Yet I don't do it.

Why? Am I doing the right thing? What do I want for my children? 

One by one, my desires for my children flooded me. Pros and cons marched into my mind, straight-backed and orderly. And then the big question: Can I accomplish my desires while they attend public schools? 

It's a question I'm not done pondering. It's so much bigger than myself. I've already prayed about it - I've fasted - I've even gone to the temple. I've already made this decision.

But she's right. I'm not at peace with it yet. 

I'll let you know when I am.

In which we get all cultured

I love the theater.

Did you know that?

I was heavily involved in high school. (Or, at least, I was THE most dedicated chorus girl ... though I did play a witch in Macbeth once.)

I love the whole thing - the smell of the theater - the excitement back stage - the hours of rehearsals - the goofing off and getting yelled at by the director - the adrenaline rush of the applause. Stepping into a theater brings it all back. I am sixteen again, thrilled to sing my heart out, dance, act, and wear goofy costumes. Pretend to be someone else for a while. Virtual reality escapism for the virtually impaired.

In high school, my mom volunteered in the makeup department - to help out - to be close to me - because she loves the theater too. And then I graduated. And she stayed.

Seventeen years later, she's a full-blown professional.

Moving to Arizona was hard for her on so many levels, but she's finally found a creative outlet here, too.

Meet my momma's handiwork!




So for our date night this week we went to see the play she's working in - Into the Woods.

Best part about going to the theater?

His arm around me for two hours straight - and no kids in between.

Friday, April 8, 2011

In which I ACTUALLY DO THIS

This is exactly the SECOND time I have done a meme. Ever. If you can find my first one, I will send you cookies.
Basically, it's late. I'm tired. My creativity is zilch. And this looked like fun.
 
Age: 29

Bed Size: Queen-size. We cuddle. (Yes I KNOW what you say about queen sizes, Kristina ...)

Chore You Hate:  Laundry. LAUNDRY!!!!!! LAUNDRY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Dogs:  None. But I want one. Reeeeeeeeeeeeally bad.

Essential Start of Your Day: Exercise. (Wow. Did I just say that?!)

Favorite Color: Green. But sometimes blue.

Gold or Silver: Silver, no contest.

Height: 5'7

Instruments You Play: Piano - that's it.


Job Title: Dona da Casa. Duh.

Kids: almost 7, almost 5, almost 3, and 1 (ONE! He's ONE!)

Live: Arizona. Best place ever.

Mom's Name: If I told you, you could steal my identity. Pretty sure there's like five people in the country with my mom's first name.

Nicknames: Becky J, Bex, Beckster, Beieckeye, Rebecca Anastasia, Re (pronounce Hey - Portuguese)

Overnight Hospital Stays: Just the four babes. And some ovarian cyst business in high school.

Pet Peeve: People who have lots of pet peeves

Quote From a Movie: "Okay, that will be fun!"

Right- or Left-Handed: Right

Siblings: 1 sister, 3 brothers

Time You Wake Up: 5:00AM on the nose

Underwear: Mormon-style; over the shoulder, down to the knees

Veggie You Dislike: Brussel Sprouts. No amount of ketchup could entice me. 'Specially since I don't really like ketchup.

What Makes You Run Late: Trying to do too many things before I need to be somewhere - if I could just switch the laundry before I go, it would be great! ...

X-Rays You Have Had: Just the teeth. Oh, and when I hit my head on a trampoline in college. I had a bunch of CAT scans. That's a story.

Yummy Food You Make:  Homemade bread. And a whole bunch of stuff that's bad for you.

Zoo Animal You Like Best: Penguins! Or monkeys.

Thursday, April 7, 2011

In which I am every marketer's dream

I'm a highly suggestible person. If it's marked two-for-one, 10% off, or Last Day Only!, I need it.

I first realized this highly undesirable trait when I was sixteen years old. I was at the dollar store with a friend, looking at nail polish, when I saw it. A pearly pink bottle with a bright red sticker: "Last Chance for This Item! Discontinued This Month!"

I bought it immediately.

Upon arriving home, I understood exactly why they were choosing to discontinue this particular color: because it barely showed up on my nails, and gummed up if the wind brushed it the wrong way.

I still have that nail polish - to remind myself of my stupidity. Whenever I see a Fabulous Sale!, I think of that innocent pink bottle, and tell myself NO.

For the most part I succeed, but I still have these "frugal urges" every once in a while ...

Like the other day, when I passed the billboard for the hospital to see that the waiting time was only six minutes!, and had to fight the compulsion to check myself in.

I mean - what a deal, right?!

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Let's help a girl out

So my excellent friend Stepper asked me a question recently -

what do you do for lunch? 

I recall asking the exact same question a while back. Back then, we did rice and beans for lunch. A whole lot.

Now, we have PB&J at least once a week - grilled cheese at least twice - mac and cheese - hot dogs - chicken nuggets - fish sticks - quesadillas - and sometimes I forcefeed them leftovers. I've kind of resolved myself to boring regularity when it comes to lunch. As for me, I eat a lot of wraps, stir-frys, and salads.

(I'm on a diet.)

But for the kids, maybe it's time for a revamp?

So - what do you do?

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

In which I type a word I never say

So after said car accident, I went to the chiropractor for the first time.

Apparently, chiropractors are a big deal. I didn't know. 

They can ease ear infections, alleviate menstrual cramps, remedy indigestion, and they're working on a cure for cancer.

They also make me fart a lot.

See, early in our marriage, My Man and I decided to enforce a strict "pooter whenever you darn well feel like it" policy. Unless it's particularly bad, in which case you'd better leave the room. Or at least warn each other. But for the most part, it's generally Free Toots around here.

And sometimes I forget that other people may not abide by said policy.

So back to my back.

I'm told that the accident whacked the curve right out of my neck. This is bad. You're not supposed to have a straight neck. So I've been going veryveryoften for alignments and physical therapy. Apparently I'm a sucker for pain.

Yesterday, I had my first dose of deep tissue massage (to work out all the soft tissue scars that won't let me bend my neck. Since I generally like bending my neck, I agreed.)

First there's the question of what to wear. Or not. They said to "undress to the level of your comfort." Well, lady, if it were that easy, I'd wear my sweats. Or perhaps a Snuggie. But then they might write "prude" under my patient notes, and I'd feel dumb.

So yesterday, with Scentsy burning and some nice Chopin in the background, she instructed me to "go ahead and get between the sheets." And then she leaves the room.

Pressure!

I had to make a quick decision, and decided to strip to my underwear.

(I can't wait to see what google searches will come up with for this post ...)

Feeling slightly kinky, I told her she could come back in. Hopefully it was too dark to see my blush.

Then there's the trouble of what to talk about - or not. I mean, we'd just met, and she's rubbing me all over with oils. I might as well know her favorite color.

Finally I just shut up and let myself enjoy it. And then ... I felt it.

A little bubble descending. That would totally ruin the Scentsy.

So then I'm alternately clenching and trying to "relax" without stinking up the place. I was practically sweating with effort. Not only will I be labeled a prude, but a gaseous one at that. I might have to switch chiropractors.

But success was had, and no flatulence was expelled. Forty-five minutes of victory.

Feeling awfully proud of myself, I got dressed and waited for the doctor for my adjustment. And -


POP!

I might have to switch after all.

Monday, April 4, 2011

In which memories were relived


Date night last week was a home movie night.

(And dude. I know our dates lately haven't been very creative. It's the jar's fault, man. I'm sure we have a buncha funky ones coming up all in a row.)

Anyway. So I was in charge, and wanted to either buy or rent a new movie, because I'm tired of watching Ocean's Eleven. Wal-mart's five dollar bin was not inspiring me, Redbox is somewhat of an enigma, and I had pretty much resigned myself to a night of watching Brad Pitt eat nachos in shiny suits when I saw it.

STAR WARS.

And I remembered.

I remembered that My Man and I had been officially dating for two weeks - one week of which I spent in Idaho for Thanksgiving. We missed each other terribly. One week was a very long time to be apart. We burned. 

The night of our reunion, my apartment was packed. We settled in on the couch in his apartment instead, when ... Jeff came in and started a Star Wars marathon.

(Do you read this blog Jeff? Jeff? Are you there?)

We were thoroughly annoyed. I mean, really, Jeff. It had been a WEEK.

So we promptly made out during the whole movie. Maybe all three. I can't remember.

No worries, Jeff. Your back was turned.

(Bytheway. Watching Star Wars after a ten year lapse? Brilliant. Leia is watching her planet get blown up, and barely manages to look perturbed. Still. I LOVE IT.)

Friday, April 1, 2011

In which I want to know what you think

Essential oils?

Do you think they're a crock? Are you a convert? Do you even know what I'm talking about?

I'm wondering.