C'mon now! I'm funny.

Last week I got an email from a friend who is currently serving a mission. My gal pal - we'll call her Sister Z because she's a missionary and her last name starts with a Z - has been paired up with a sister who is utterly without humor. Sister Z is at a loss; apparently nothing she does or says will crack her solid rock of a companion. I feel for her, don't you? Haven't we all been in a situation where we crack a joke, waiting for the laughter to follow, but all we hear is the distant sound of chirping crickets?

On the day my husband and I discovered the sex of our second child, the crickets were a-chirpin'. I was laying - or is it lying? I'm never quite sure - on my back, peering at the screen, as the sonographer moved the wand around to see what she could see. (And, cue music! The bear went over the mountain, the bear went over the mountain... Ooooookay. Moving right along.) It turns out our cute little fetus had its hand right between its legs, blocking our view. Now anyone who has ever had a little boy knows that boys are curious little creatures who occasionally like to examine certain body parts. So I chuckled, "Hey, must be a boy." There was mild chirping, followed by the sonographer's comment of, "Well, we haven't seen any evidence either way yet." (By the way, it was a girl.)

But that was funny, right? "Must be a boy." Maybe not belly-laugh funny, but it deserved at least a sympathy laugh. Sheesh. Some people.

I wonder...

• if it would be totally irresponsible to vote for McCain just because I like his V.P. choice (go Palin!)
• how to decide whether or not to have more kids
• if it's silly to feel disgruntled with my mother-in-law for the admittedly nice Halloween costumes she sent simply because I wanted to have the experience of costume shopping with my kiddos
• whether it's too early to get excited for the upcoming holidays
• how embarrassed I should feel about consuming half a turkey leg, a bag of mini donuts, ice cream, cotton candy, a corn dog, some bites of pretzel with dipping sauce, and a cream puff at the Alaska State Fair last night
• if I should graciously offer to raise my sister's unborn child so she won't drop dead of a stress-related illness (she has a 2-1/2 year old girl, 15 month old twins, and she's due in April)
• when it will snow
• if I should worry if people think I'm strange
• if, in ten years, I won't care if people think I'm strange
• if anyone will make my day and comment on my post, assuring me that yes, I'm strange, but I'm still likable for the most part

And I don't even have a speech prepared!

"Would you look at that? Would you look at THAT? ... It's a Major Award!" (Hey, if you can name that movie, I'll eat a cookie in your honor. In fact, I think I'll eat a few cookies tonight anyway, just in case somebody guesses right.)

It's true, I've won an award! I haven't won anything in ages! Well, unless you count that memory game at my friend's baby shower last month. They brought out a tray of 20 baby items, let us look for a minute, then whisked it away and had us jot down everything we could remember. I'm not sure this is something to brag about, though, seeing as how I was mostly competing against grandmas and a pregnant lady. But grandmas and pregnant ladies, please don't take offense; I don't want anything to detract from this, the day that I received a Major Award. Ta da!




Thanks, Heather! Your blog rocks, too.

And, as instructed, here are some other blogs I like:
The Funny Farm
Away From It All
It Is Mostly Fluff
The Chronicles of Lizzie
Musings of a Mommy Bee
It's Not As Easy As It Looks
Campbell Clan

My dear blogging buddies, I can't thank you enough for the laughs, the warm and fuzzy moments, the pick-me-ups, and the enjoyable hours that I should have spent cleaning my home instead of fooling around on the computer. Hugs to all and don't forget to share the love!

Getting to know me

Well, here's a bunch of stuff about me I thought I'd share because I'm bored. Continue at your own discretion.

My ABC's:

A= ADVOCATE FOR: Middle children. I'm tellin' ya, it's a tough life when you're a second class citizen.

B = BEST FEATURE: My curly hair, but only on the days it cooperates. I'm going to take a stab and say that it cooperates about 16 days out of the year. And that's a good year.

C = COULDN'T DO WITHOUT: iPod Scrabble. How superficial am I?

D = DREAMS AND DESIRES: I'd like to write a book someday.

E= ESSENTIAL ITEM: A pair of great jeans.

F= FAVORITE PAST TIME: Cooking. And reading. And reading while I'm waiting for something to finish cooking. Oooh, and I love movies.

G = GOOD AT: Cleaning and organizing things. Think Monica on "Friends."

H = HAVE NEVER TRIED: Sushi.

I = IF I HAD A MILLION DOLLARS: Travel!! And the hubby and kids could come too.

J = JUNKIE FOR: Chocolate cake with frosting. But not the whipped cream frosting - butter cream all the way!

K = KINDRED SPIRIT: My sister. Even though we wanted to beat each other in high school, we ended up good pals.

L = LITTLE KNOWN FACT: I'm anosmic. But this isn't really a little known fact if you've already read this.

M = MEMORABLE MOMENT: Stepping off the metro in Washington D.C., peering around, and asking my husband of two weeks, "Um, isn't that the White House?" (It was.)

N = NEVER AGAIN WILL I: Try a natural remedy of epsom salt, oil, and grapefruit juice to "cleanse" my system of gallstones. Of course, seeing as how I no longer have a gallbladder, I don't think this will be a problem.

O = OCCASIONAL INDULGENCE: New shoes.

P= PROVOKING THOUGHT: Sorry, I got nothin'! Talk to Jack Handy.

Q = QUOTE: "So much of what I see reminds me of something I read in a book, when shouldn't it be the other way around?"

R = REASON TO SMILE: I'm keeping a secret for someone. And it's a doozy!

S = SORRY ABOUT: My temper.

T = TAG SOME FRIENDS: I have an aversion to tagging because what if I tag someone and they don't want to do it and they feel guilty because they don't want to do it and then they worry all week long because they wonder if they should've done it?

U = UNINTERESTED IN: Ever reading the "Twilight" series again. I read it, I know what happened, I'm done.

V = VERY SCARED OF: Pain.

W = WORST HABIT: I tend to assume that I'm smarter than most people I meet, even though I know this is not the case. It causes me to distrust people and I don't like that. I'd rather trust.

X = X MARKS MY IDEAL VACATION SPOT: I've always wanted to see Ireland.

Y = YESTERYEAR DECADE OF CHOICE: Hmmm... I think I'd have made a great '50s wife. Apart from being smarter than most people I meet. :)

Z = ZODIAC SIGN: Capricorn

We're in the money... now what should we do with it?

In a few weeks, qualifying Alaskans will receive somewhere in the vicinity of $3300 each. (Hate us if you need to, but I'm pretty sure we'll get over it quickly.) We plan on sticking some into our IRA, a chunk into savings, and keeping most for a down payment on a house next summer. And therein lies the reason for this post. For those of you who are home owners, is it better to have a sizable down payment, or can this money be put to better use in the home-buying scheme?

I realize that the answer to this question depends on several things. Let's assume that we're planning on staying in the house for at least five years, we want a fixed APR, and we won't be spending more than $180,000. I've just heard so many horror stories about buying a house; I want to be in the know so we can invest wisely.

So, tell me what you know! Suggest books or websites. Tell me your horror (or hopefully horror-free) experiences. And in addition to the money question, what is the number one feature of a house that had to be just so for you to consider buying it? For example, I want closet space, and lots of it! And I definitely do not want a split-entry. Anything you'd advise us to steer clear of or keep an eye on?

Thanks, thanks, thanks!

Dark, dreary days? Bring on the pie!

I learned today that during the winter, when there's less sunlight (especially where I am), the body has an increased level of melatonin and a decreased level of serotonin. This can lead to lethargy, crankiness, and my personal favorite, a craving for carbohydrates. You can read more about it here, if you so desire.

This explains a lot actually. It's why my kids sleep until 8am in December but in July, they're up and really to rumble at 6:30. It's why I get so much done when spring cleaning time rolls around. It's why during the summer, I can dig to the back of my closet for clothes that haven't fit for a while, but wintertime finds me in my "fat" pants six out of seven days of the week. It's why when the snow hits the ground, I've got visions of not only sugar plums, but cookies, hot chocolate, pumpkin pie, stuffing, and all the rest. Yep, this explains a lot.

Shoooooop. (That was reality, sucking me back in.) It's only August. Guess I'm having a salad for lunch. Happy eating!

Wanted: Magical Parenting Skills

Does anyone out there think that there's such a thing as explaining too much to your kids? I'm of the opinion that if I tell my kids to do something (or not to do something), they should get to know why. Sometimes they don't get to know immediately, but they do get to know. And if bad behavior occurs, we'll talk about that, too.

But here's the rub. There are days when I feel like the second I open my mouth, Riley's brain shuts off (much like mine does when Adam starts speaking Russian - sorry, honey!) because he hears me talk ALL THE TIME. I'm inclined to think this is typical four-year old behavior, but at the same time, I wonder if I need to quit beating a dead horse. Does he really need to hear things seventy-two times? If he heard "don't push your sister" over and over yesterday, does he need to hear it today or just go chill in his room for a while when - hopefully if - the pushing begins? How much is too much?

And speaking of sisters, is there a quick, easy way to get the older child to understand that baby behavior is okay for a baby, but not for him? Also - yes, there's more! - half the time I feel like Millie gets neglected because she's younger and seems to need less attention. I'm a middle child and have often felt that since I was a relatively easy kid, I kind of got left to my own devices. I don't want Millie to feel like she's just along for the ride, you know?

Sigh. This whole parenting thing is rough. No wonder chocolate was invented!

Rocky and Bullwinkle (minus Rocky)

I was sitting on the couch this afternoon when I looked out the window and noticed something moving in the trees on the other side of the road. Three brown, hairy herbivores (a mama and two calves) emerged from the foliage and made their way across the street into our front yard. Yep, that's right - the moose are back! I hollered to Riley, who was playing in his room, to look out the window. Of course, being Riley, he had to do more than look; he opened the window and asked the moose to come over and talk to him. And of course, being moose, they looked at him curiously and promptly ignored his commands.

Two years ago when we moved into this apartment, a mama moose and her two calves frequently came by to eat the leaves off our trees. I wonder if one of those calves is now the mama moose. Ah, the circle of life! It makes me want to go watch The Lion King.

You know what's kind of weird, though? We don't see many squirrels here. I don't know if it's too cold, or what, but I remember a conversation I had with Riley a while back. It went something like this:

Me - Hey, kiddo. Do you know that once when I was a little girl, a squirrel bit my finger?
Boy - Mom, what's a squirrel?
Me - Uh... it's like... ummm... it kinda looks like a rat with a long bushy tail?
Boy - Oh, okay.
Me - Do you know what a rat looks like?
Boy - No.
Me - Alrighty then.

It dawned on me later that I could've pulled up a picture of a squirrel on Google Images. Although you have to be a little cautious, because it seems like anytime I'm looking for a specific image, some sleazy picture makes its way into the search. I can see if I typed in "bikini", but "squirrel?" C'mon now!

But I digress. Moose are cool. See?

Riley spills the beans

I stole this idea from another blog cuz I thought it was cute. And I'd be more than happy to give credit... if only I could remember whose blog it was. Oops! Anyway, I interviewed my child this afternoon and here's what he had to say:

1. What is something your mom always says to you?
Riley - I love you, and other happy things.

2. What makes mom happy?
Riley - Smiles.

3. What makes mom sad?
Riley - Elephants. And when I'm mad.

4. How does your mom make you laugh?
Riley - Like this (demonstrates with giggles and maniacal cackling).

5. What was your mom like as a child?
Riley - My mom liked to work around the house. (Hmm... not much has changed, I guess.)

6. How old is your mom?
Riley - Seven. (Plus twenty.)

7. How tall is your mom?
Riley - Very tall. (5'8'')

8. What is her favorite thing to do?
Riley - Eat. (Should I be concerned about this answer?)

9. What does your mom do when you're not around?
Riley - Take a break.

10. What is your mom really good at?
Riley - Listening.

11. What is your mom not very good at?
Riley - Going to the park with a boy who won't eat his lunch. (You got that right, mister!)

12. What does your mom do for her job?
Riley - I don't know.

13. What is your mom's favorite food?
Riley - Eggs.

14. What makes you proud of your mom?
Riley - Playing with my toys. And playing on the trampoline if I ask.

15. What do you and your mom do together?
Riley - Play and work and play and go to bed and play in the morning.

16. How are you and your mom the same?
Riley - I can't think of anything.

17. How are you and your mom different?
Riley - Big and small.

18. How do you know your mom loves you?
Riley - From kisses.

The fall of my pride

I'm posting this at the request of Heather, the author of The Extraordinary Ordinary (which is a funny, poignant blog you should really take a look at), because she likes to giggle at the clumsiness of the human race. Hooray, I'm not the only one! You know that scene from While You Were Sleeping where the newspaper boy falls off his bike after an overly energetic tossing of the paper? Love it, love it, love it! I rewind that scene at least once every time I see the movie.

I have so many of my own clumsy stories that it's downright embarrassing, but here's one of my favorites. During my fourth year of college I was known among my roommates as "the girl who falls down (or up) stairs." Anytime anyone heard a thump followed by muffled cursing - just the mild kind, mind you, like "crap" or "fiddlesticks" - they'd ask if I was okay. One evening, after a particularly grueling day of study, I arrived home with the intent to change into pajamas, bust open that new carton of ice cream in the freezer, and plant myself in front of the tv. As I headed downstairs to my room, I tripped and fell. This was nothing new, obviously, but this time I had a backpack full of heavy books, and they greatly increased the speed of my fall. A second or two later, a concerned roommate poked her head around the corner to find me looking slightly dazed, spread-eagle on the floor (thank goodness it was carpeted!) with a backpack at my side. She politely held back a smirk and asked if I was hurt. "Just my pride, " I retorted. "Just my pride."

Back on the job and why I should stop watching sequels

Today was Adam's first day back to work and I gotta tell you, there was mayhem on the home front! He's been home all summer helping with the housework and kids; I guess I got a little spoiled. And now it's just the kiddos and me, at home, with not a heck of a lot to do. Preschool hasn't started; Strolling Sisters (something we do in our ward) hasn't started; I set up a new playgroup for the year, but even that doesn't start until next month. In a nutshell, I may have forgotten how to be a stay-at-home mom. Today all I could think about was, where's my me time? Where did all these menial tasks come from? What in the world do these children want from me - don't they know I'm trying to blog here?! I'm hoping the transition period will be short and semi-painless. But if you don't hear back from me within a week, I'm either still transitioning or dead. I'm not sure which one I'd prefer.

In other news, I saw the third Mummy movie last night. I should have stayed home and read a book instead. What is it with sequels lately? I loved The Mummy and The Mummy Returns. And the first Indiana Jones movies - loved 'em. But The Mummy 3? A smidgen (and by smidgen I mean heaps and heaps) over the top, especially the Yeti scene. What was that? And don't even get me started on the latest Indy movie. It physically hurt me to watch it, it was so bad.

So, yeah. Enough whining for one evening. I'll start again in the morning. :)

Five glorious years

Today my husband and I are celebrating our 5th wedding anniversary, so I wanted to share some of my favorite things about the man I married.

He can always talk me down when I get too uptight about life.
He doesn't mind or think it's weird if I take myself out for dinner and a movie every so often.
He's not appalled by the sight of me first thing in the morning.
He thinks it's kind of cute that I'm an obsessive neat freak.
He's a fantastic dad.
Without complaint, he's eaten every meal I've ever made and thanked me for it afterward. Even when it looked a little like dog food.
He's a hard worker.
He's very motivated, which is good because it occasionally rubs off on me.
When the 7th Harry Potter book came out, he let me tune out of real life until I was completely finished some nine hours later.

I love you, sweetums!

Hooray for provident living!

Adam and I went to the cannery today and brought home the first food storage we've ever had. Thirty-eight beautiful cans. I know it's not much and it's all just basic stuff - wheat, rice, beans, etc. - but for some reason, I now feel like a responsible adult. Don't ask me why having food storage makes me feel like a responsible adult when being 27 years old with two kids doesn't, because I don't know. Is that weird?

I'm almost hoping we'll have a power outage or something so I can bust out some hard red wheat and my new grain mill and make some bread. I won't ask if that's weird. I already know the answer.

Hmm... that reminds me. Unless we want to eat cooked bread, not just dough, we're gonna need some sort of non-electric cooking device. Oh, well. I'll take a rain check on that power outage. Next item on the list: small wood burning stove. Slow and steady wins the race, right?

uh...

Today I thought I'd try out a wordless Wednesday. You know, just in case I was missing out on something really good. But I'm not sure everyone knows what a wordless Wednesday is; does it still count if I end up needing to explain it? Also, does titling a post counteract the wordlessness of Wednesday? But simply posting random pictures might be confusing. Are explanations taboo? It's all so perplexing, not to mention I've used oh-so many words already. What a disaster for my first wordless Wednesday! He, he. On to the pictures. Here are some things I can, but would rather not, live without:

And the light bulb went on

I'm wondering whether or not to post this on the blog, but what the heck? I've done worse things than what I'm about to share. But shhhh... don't tell my mom.
I got called to the Young Women organization in our ward recently and was very excited about it. Partly because I was ready to move out of the ward to get out of the calling I was currently in, but also because I was really excited to work with the youth. So remember: I did start out with a good attitude.
Now the presidency member that I work with is an outgoing, fun, super cute lady. In fact, the more I got to know her, the more I became intimidated by her. She's got a great sense of style, she relates extremely well with the girls, she's very articulate, and on and on and on. Being, well, me, I started worrying that the girls wouldn't like me as well as they liked this other leader; that when I showed up with Cheerios smeared into my skirt and a haggard expression of one who has just barely survived another Sacrament meeting with a four-year-old, they would dismiss me as one of those uncool mother type figures; that I wouldn't be able to bond well with these girls. And on and on and on.
But today, I experienced a small miracle in the form of bad spelling. That's right, spelling. The aforementioned leader gave the lesson today and as she was listing things on the board, she remarked that she was a terrible speller. "Oh, sure," I thought, and was positive that this was just false modesty. Here was simply another thing she did well. Turns out, she's a bad speller. I mean, a really bad speller. And instead of inwardly gloating, I had an "aha" moment. Was I going to hoard this little tidbit and use it against her, or think of it every time I started to feel jealous or insecure? As much as I may have wanted to, I had this thought instead: this woman is not perfect. She is beautiful and talented in many ways, but she is a human being with crazy little imperfections, just like the rest of us. I can get over myself and be her friend. I want to be her friend.
Anyway, just wanted to share because so many times I feel like I'm not good or smart or accomplished enough to be worth much. But I am. And so is she. I hope you think you are, too.