Lemming love

I wasn't planning on posting today, but I got an award from Sue Q at The Quack Shack.



I like this award because it celebrates people who try new things or march to their own beat or even just refuse to be stuck in a rut. It's refreshing.

So I just wanted to sing my own praises for a moment. La, la, la! (If that wasn't enough, go on over and read what Sue wrote about me. It made me blush!) And also I wanted to pass it along to two of my pals, Lisa and Old Boat Guy.

Lisa recently wrote a great post about her beliefs (which are also my beliefs) with regard to morality. She was bold and frank and not afraid to call it like she saw it, even though there are many people in this world who so obviously don't share her viewpoint.

Old Boat Guy has this beautifully restored boat that I would tell you all about if I knew anything at all about boats, but that's not why I'm nominating him. I just think it's cool that he's all, yeah I'm a guy but I'm not ashamed to blog it up with my peeps over at Mormon Mommy Blogs. It's all good, yo! (Except I doubt he uses words like "peeps" and "yo" because he's more sophisticated than that...)

Anyway, kudos, my un-lemming-like friends. You are wonderful.

P.S. Um, I just realized that I've been calling all my followers lemurs, when I'm sure I meant lemmings. Ha! I think I'll keep it, just to remind myself how goofy I am...

Being okay with you

Have you ever been impressed by someone (or by someone's particular talent) to the extent that you attempted to be more like that person only to realize that you aren't really like that person and you don't necessarily want to be? And did you find yourself standing in a thrift store in near-panic mode when this revelation came? And when this revelation came, did you wonder why it couldn't have come, say, twenty minutes sooner, BEFORE you had bundled up the kids and braved the sixteen-degree-but-felt-like-negative-one-because-of-the-wind-chill-factor weather?

Um, hello? Is anybody still with me?

Okay, so here's the dealio. I have this friend who has great decorating style. Her house looks wonderful, and I'm pretty sure she doesn't even have to try hard. In fact, I was at her house recently and got inspired to try my hand at cute decor (because after seeing her place, my place looked, well, blah). Now, whenever I get an idea like this into my head, it's nearly impossible for me to focus well on anything else. I actually had a hard time getting to sleep a few nights ago because I was imagining all the fun things I could do with picture frames and candles and tablecloths and whatnot.

So the next morning, I headed off to the thrift store, even though the wind was blowing hard enough that my son couldn't get the car door shut behind him. And I'm in the shop, looking at vases, candle holders, wall hangings, frames, etc. when I start freaking out. (But only in my head, because I don't approve of mental breakdowns in thrift stores.) I started thinking about all these things in life that I didn't have and suddenly I was cursing our small, ramshackle apartment and my friend and her great style and basically my whole pitiful existence.

As suddenly as it began, my cursing came to a screeching halt as I asked myself if I really wanted my home to look like my friend's home. And the answer was no. Do I love her style? Yes. Is it the same as my style? No. She uses darker colors than I prefer and her house is a little busier looking than I want mine to be. The million dollar question is: do I want to spend the time and money and effort to make my place look just like her place if her place isn't how I want my place to look in the first place? Hmm, I guess not.

Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner! So I chose three items that I knew I would actually use, shelled out $4.50, and headed home, happier and wiser.

The moral of my story is this: be okay with who you are. Because who you are is just fine. (Uh, unless you're a serial killer, in which case, you may want to think about changing a little. Or a lot.)

The End.

You mean blogging goes on without me?

Holy smokes! I'm so behind. The blogging world has left me in its dust while I had a nice lazy week full of Christmasy goodness. But I'm looking on the bright side: at least I'm behind in blogging and not in life. That's good, right?

I would like to say that I'll be a better poster and commenter next week, but that would be a big fat lie since Adam is still home for another week. Now we've only been married five and a half years, but I'm pretty sure I know him well enough to say that he would not appreciate me sitting in front of the computer for an hour or two each day when we could be sledding or building a snow cave or eating tasty things or shopping for a house or... well, doing pretty much anything else. And you know, it's been a nice break.

So, yeah. I hope you all had a wonderful week and I hope you don't mind me stalking your blogs for a little while longer.

My Christmas wish

Dear Santa,

I really have everything I want and need this year, so I was thinking, maybe you could do me a favor or two instead.

Could you remind people to love each other? I realize that we all have our own opinions and feelings and likes and dislikes, but if we could all strive to understand each other just a little bit better, that would be great.

Would you help us remember that things are nice, but it's the people around us who are really important?

And if it's not too much to ask, could you remind us about the man who was more than just a man? The Son who lived and died for us all and is the reason this season is so wonderful?

Thanks, Santa.

Becky

Tagged again

I got tagged by Mommy Bee this time, and I doubled checked - it's legit. (Just in case you've never swung by her blog, I will tell you that this lady is smart, crafty, a great cook, and if we were all a little more like her, we could have global warming under control by next year. Plus she's given me awesome hair tips, so she's my pal for life!)

Here are the rules:

1. Link to the person who tagged you.
2. Post the rules on your blog.
3. Write six random things about yourself.
4. Tag six people at the end of your post and link to them.
5. Let each person know they've been tagged and leave a comment on their blog.
6. Let the tagger know when your entry is up.

Mommy Bee tweaked it a bit and made her six things holiday-related, which I liked, so I'm following suit.

1. If there's no snow for Christmas, I get moody and depressed. I honestly don't know if I could ever live in Cali or Arizona. All that sunshine - yikes!

2. When I was growing up, I don't ever remember my Dad helping decorate the Christmas tree. He'd help get the tree home and into position, but when it came time to hang tinsel and ornaments, he'd lounge in a chair with a book and just holler directions from the other room. I don't think he disliked decorating so much as he liked hollering directions. So when I got married and Adam wanted to help decorate, it was kind of weird.

3. I love that the holidays give me an excuse to bake. At ISU, I had eleven roommates at one point. I could bake to my heart's content and never had to worry about stuff going bad. But with only four people, even one batch of cookies is just too much. Christmas means I get to go wild.

4. We don't play the Santa card so much in our family. I know some parents who bribe their kids with gifts from Santa in exchange for decent behavior for the entire Christmas season. Don't get me wrong, I'm all about bribery, but I dunno. Santa's just not a big player in our Christmas traditions so far.

5. I've always wanted to make my own eggnog but never have. Maybe this year will be the year. I'll let you know.

6. Christmas doesn't feel like Christmas without those tasty summer sausage and cheese packs from Hillshire Farms. Sure, they're processed and bad for you, but it's Christmas! Live a little.

OK, who to pick on...? How about:

Barb at Barbaloot Suit, because she "tagged" me a while back
Shaila at da Bergs, because I think she'll probably have some great holiday memories to share
Steph at Diapers and Divinity, because she's sending me flannel pants
Fluffy Chicky at It Is Mostly Fluff, because I haven't heard from her in a while and want to know she's still alive
T at You Asked for It, because she can write a mean poem
Kathy P. at Real Mom, Real Life, because she wrote a post that really touched me

That's all for today, folks!

Learning to receive

Yesterday, this lady emailed me out of the blue and asked me for my address so that she could send me a box of Candy Cane Joe Joes (which I'd never heard of before I started checking out her blog, and have never tasted). She was actually having a giveaway, but I didn't win; I think she just took pity on my poor, Joe Joe-less soul.

Do you know the first thing I did when I received her email? I composed a message thanking her and politely refusing because I didn't want to put her through the trouble. Yeah, I'm one of those people. I love to serve and do nice things for others, but I have one heck of a time letting people do nice things for me. I always worry that I'm making someone's day harder or being too much trouble - even when they volunteer!

So just before I hit that send button, I reconsidered. I don't think my heart grew two sizes, cuz I like to think it's pretty okay as is, but my brain may have grown a tad. I deleted the original message and typed another one that told her to send the box my way. (I also may have mentioned something about her being super-duper cool, because I like to be truthful.) Then I hit the send button.

Here's my challenge for you (and me) this Christmas: go out and do good. Spread love and joy and good deeds. But please, please, please remember to give others the opportunity to do the same for you. And you know, sending me those cookies probably isn't even a big deal to my blog buddy. But it's a big deal to me, and I truly appreciate it.

Thanks for the lesson, friend.

Getting into the Christmas spirit would be easier if I were richer

I wish I had a whole lot of money. But not for the reasons you think (okay, probably for all the reasons you think, but also for one more). If I had a lot of money, then some of my phone calls could go like this:

Caller: Hello, I'm calling from the such-and-such foundation and we need this much money in order to help this group of people and I was wondering if you would like to donate to our cause.
Me: Well, gosh, that sounds nice. I'd love to donate! How about $3000?

instead of like this:

Caller: Hello, I'm calling from the such-and-such foundation and we need...
Me: (click)

Quotable quotes

I've come up with a genius idea. Genius! Check it out. You wanna post something because you love, love, love getting comments but don't have spare time to actually write anything? Use stuff that other people have already written! Then cut and paste, baby. Cut and paste.

Yeah, I know people do this all the time, but let's pretend I came up with it all on my own.

Oh, and just in case anyone's looking to sue me for my millions, I'll save you the time and tell you that all my info came from this site. (Except for the clever awards, which were all me.)

And now, without further ado, the top five quotes of 2008:

The you-said-it-brother award goes to Shia LaBeouf, talking about his arrest last November for refusing to leave a Walgreen's store in Chicago:

"Drinking and driving is one thing, but drinking and shopping ... it's just as bad."


The I've-got-false-modesty-coming-out-my-wobbly-bum award goes to Sienna Miller:

"I'm so not perfect. My top half is looking pretty good at the moment because, for the first time in my life, I'm exercising, but you should see my bum. It wobbles when I walk. Seriously, I have a lardy arse. I have days when I wake up, look in the mirror and go, 'yuk'. And I totally have bad hair days -- why do you think I own so many hats?"


The please-don't-let-anyone-else-have-this-wish-and-follow-through award goes to Jennifer Love Hewitt, recalling what her mother and grandmother would tell her when she would complain about feeling fat:

"They'd say, 'Sweetheart, appreciate it for all it's worth because it all changes when you get into your 30s.' I used to scoff and say, 'No, I feel fat today!' Now the joke's on me. I wish I had been nude from the time I was 12 until I was 28. I looked great!"


The if-that's-what-it-takes-to-be-a-real-girl-count-me-out award goes to Paris Hilton, on her stripping at the Pussycat Dolls Lounge in Las Vegas for her 27th birthday:

"This was all about being confident, being sexy and showing it and being a real girl."


And the most-truth-ever-uttered-in-four-words award goes to "Harry Potter" actor Rupert Grint, talking about meeting Lindsay Lohan:

"She said she was going to win an Oscar before she turns 25. I just kept thinking, 'But you can't act.'"


Oh, to be a celebrity...

If in doubt, throw it out!

Tonggu Momma wrote a post a while ago that got me thinking about why I'm such a minimalist. (This is the nice word for it, since my husband simply refers to me as a"stuff Nazi.") She actually wasn't even writing about this subject; she asked for suggestions on how to display old and new Christmas cards.

Here's the thing: I don't have any old Christmas cards. None at all. Maybe I'm compulsive or maybe I'm just not a sentimental person, but if I don't have a use for something, there's no way I'm gonna keep it around to create clutter.

Observe:

• Unless it's a seasonal item, I get rid of anything I haven't used in over three months.
• I have three binders that contain all the important documents in our lives (no, I'm not going to tell you where they are - sheesh!!) and every January I go through and shred whatever we no longer need.
• Every so often, I do a quick sweep of the house and throw a bunch of stuff in a box to take to the thrift store.
• After Christmas, I go through toys. Out with the old (at least some of them) and in with the new.
• I don't keep magazines around. I read them and then they get recycled.
• I browse my recipe binder every few months and toss the recipes I never use.

And that's just the beginning! I guess that life in my head is such a mess that I couldn't handle it if my immediate surroundings were messy too. Oh, well.

P.S. If you happen to be a sentimental person, or even - gasp! - have a messy house, please don't think I'm passing judgment here. People who have freakishly rigid control issues like I do have no right to pass judgment on anyone...

Tagged, but not really

Barb over at Barbaloot Suit (who, by the way, is in the running for the December Blog Spotlight over at Mormon Mommy Blogs cuz she's so cool) ran me down and tagged me this week. I'm pretty sure she only caught me because I've had a cold and have been extra tired, because it couldn't possibly have anything to do with the fact that she's young and spry and doesn't have extra poundage from pesky pregnancies hanging onto her torso area. Right?

Anyway, she totally tweaked the tag, so I think I'll do the same. The original tag was to list five things you love. Barb listed five disorders. I think I'll list five things that make me cry, just for the heck of it.

1. Onions. I may not be able to smell 'em, but the little suckers sure can pop my tear ducts into overdrive.
2. The movie The Incredible Journey. I'm not even gonna try to justify this. It just does. Every stinkin' time.
3. Eighteen mph wind hitting me right in the eyes.
4. Turkey enchiladas that don't turn out just so.
5. Banging my head so hard on the cupboard door that I stagger into the wall and bang my shoulder. (This was more like tearing up than actual crying, but still...)

Um, I just peeked at the post again to make a link, and technically this isn't even a tag. It's an award, and listing five things is part of my acceptance, uh, speech. And I'm supposed to pass on the award, but I don't wanna, cuz that means more links. Plus, I should go back and delete the first paragraph about this being a tag, but it's sort of funny so I'm not gonna.

Sigh. It's all too much for me.


P.S. I did a bad, bad thing last week. And if you're at all like me, whenever you hear about someone doing a bad, bad thing, you want to know the details.

So go here. Eat. Eat some more. Buy bigger pants.

Opening my mouth

I did something really stupid and really brave (brave for me, anyway) a few weeks ago and it has been on my mind a lot since it happened. I was talking to a friend of mine who had recently had two miscarriages. I asked her how she was doing and we talked about it for a little while, then moved on to other subjects.

Coincidentally, this beautiful young lady is the same person Adam and I hired a few years ago to watch Riley when I was pregnant for the second time. I was pretty sick and she would come during the day to help feed and entertain him while I sat on the couch and threw up. We ended up only needing her for a week, because I miscarried a short while later. (It's strange for me to type that. It sounds so nonchalant: I miscarried. And yet it still brings up so many memories that I'm unexpectedly reaching for the tissue box.)

Anyway, as she and I were talking, I made an offhand comment about how she and her husband should come over to play Scrabble or watch a movie since, having no children yet, they were free in the evenings. The second it came out of my mouth, I mentally berated myself. This dear girl kept on talking like it wasn't even a big deal, but I know how it sounded and I know how I would have felt had the situation been reversed. I was embarrassed and appalled and uncomfortable. And I knew I would be thinking about this for a long, long time and hating myself for it.

So I did something I don't normally do when I feel uncomfortable. I opened my mouth again. I apologized and told her I wasn't thinking when I said that. And that was all. No long speech, no excuses, just an apology. She smiled and said she understood, and then it was fine.

I've been thinking about this over and over, not because I still feel bad about it, but because I've been wondering about all other those times that I got uncomfortable and then clammed up. How much grief and stress could I have avoided? How much grief and stress could I have had the opportunity to relieve for another person? And this experience - will I remember it and learn from it?

I hope so.

Letters to loved ones

Dear Riley,

I know we had a rough day yesterday. And I know you're stubborn, like me, but I didn't really think you'd make the choice to sit at the table for two and a half hours instead of eating your lunch. Here's a little hint: don't pilfer three string cheeses from the fridge during quiet time, and lunchtime won't be such an ordeal.

I love you, boy.

Mom



Dear Millie,

You're young, so let's just start with three simple rules. First, screaming won't help me get the food to your tray any faster. Second, bananas are for eating, not styling hair. Third, sleep is a good thing; even though you don't like it, I do.

Oh, and please keep your pants on.

Love, Mom



Dearest Adam,

Two is enough, don't you think?

Yours, Wifey



P.S. I've missed you, friends!

Luckiest Man Alive - a message from the husband

Hello girls!

Even though I may be breaking some obscure blogging rules by posting under my wife's name without an invitation to be a guest blogger, I chose to post anyway. Just a couple things before Becky comes home...

Thank you all for your friendship to my wife. Isn't Becky the best? And check out those biceps. It's no mystery why I chose to marry her! As long as I stay on her good side I should be in good shape.

Blogging may take a lot of time and I may be annoyed sometimes with that, but I consider the benefits to far outweigh the small annoyances I sometimes feel. Through reading Becky's posts I have learned things about her I may never would have known. She loves it, and I get to hear all your goofy stories.

Thanks girls,

The hubby

Blogger Becky strikes again

There are three disclaimers you should probably read before I tell you what's been going on in my head for the last few days.

1. I'm not really schizophrenic, I just have an active mind.
2. I don't honestly believe the world revolves around me, though I occasionally wish it did, and that people would bring me donuts because of it.
3. Trying to cure a blogging addiction with a raw cookie dough addiction is bad for you and your waistline.

So here's what's up. Blogger Becky and Real-life Becky have been fighting an epic battle this week. So far, Blogger Becky is kicking some major booty, while Real-life Becky cries in the corner like a little girl. But no more, I say.

No more.


(Monday)

Blogger Becky: Okay, it's Monday. We didn't post all weekend and our comments on other blogs have been few and far between. Let's get to work!
Real-life Becky: You know, it's not mandatory to post every day. It's not like people sit in front of their computers for two days waiting for us to post something. We're cool, but not that cool.
BB: Do it. Do it now! And while you're at it, jazz up the comments. Make them unique and insightful and witty. None of this oh-you're-so-funny and I-totally-agree crap we've been throwing around lately.
RLB: Okay, I'll try with the comments, but we're doing a re-post today, you domineering control freak!
BB: (laughs evilly)

(Tuesday)

BB: C'mon, c'mon! If we don't post early, we don't get as many comments!
RLB: Look, this is getting kind of old. You know that blogging is supposed to be fun, right? And that if our post is gonna blow chunks anyway, it's probably better to forgo the whole thing for a day? You know that, right?
BB: Who cares if it's not the best thing we've ever written? Throw Jason Bourne in, and everyone will be salivating. Especially that Kristina chick...
RLB: Oooh, Jason. Me likey. Oh, alright, you win again.

(Wednesday)

BB: No time for kissing the husband good morning, you slacker! Move, move, move!!
RLB: What!? Oh, you crossed the line, lady. No more blogging for a week. A year! Go to your room!
BB: But...I...we need to...that's...
RLB: Silence, fiend! It's December and we are busy. We have a husband and kids to take care of. Our home is in disgrace. Life is hectic, and blogging is going to have to take a back seat for a while. Now tell them.
BB: (crosses arms and glares)
RLB: Teeeeell them. Or the ethernet cord gets the ax!
BB: Okay, okay! Um, guys? Our posting is probably going to be a little erratic this month. And we may not be commenting as often as we (or you) would like. Rest assured, we're still here and happy. It's just that we need to take some of the pressure off. And for the record, I'm not a domineering control freak. I just like to be thorough.
RLB: Ah, sweet victory...

Final notice

You know that scene in The Bourne Supremacy where Jason Bourne sees a guy in the marketplace and automatically knows something is up, just because the guy is dressed the wrong way?

I wish I were that observant. Heck, I wish I were half that observant! But I'm not.

(I'm sitting here trying to think of examples, and I got nothin'.)

La, la, la...

Oh! Here's one. I don't notice eye color. Immediate family, yes. Anyone else, no. Although, now that I think of it, I can't tell you what my brother-in-law's eye color is. Which brother-in-law? Well, pick one. I can't give you an accurate eye color for any of them. In fact, unless there are literal darts coming out of your eyes, they probably won't get my attention. Weird, right?

Another thing I don't notice is cars. Sometimes when we're driving around town, Adam will point out a vehicle.

"Hey, there's so-and-so!" he waves.

"What? I didn't even know they had a truck!"

I actually have this friend whom I see at least once a week, usually more. I've seen her car countless times. I've ridden in her car. I think I've even driven her car. But if I pulled up to that car in a parking lot, I wouldn't know it was hers until I peeked inside at the seat covers. That's the only thing that gives it away.

Also, I get startled very easily. If I'm in the bathroom brushing my teeth and Adam taps me on the shoulder, I freak out. If he had just gotten home and I hadn't heard him come in, maybe this would be a normal reaction. But when I know he's home and I hear him come down the hall and the door is wide open? It's a little strange. You'd think it would register in my brain that there was another human being in the place.

But, I'm determined to look on the bright side. If some weird sniper guy ever wants to take me down, at least I won't see it coming.

What's with the oneupmanship? again...

(I'm still nursing a turkey hangover, so I pulled something from the archives. Enjoy!)

I was thinking about moms today, and how for some reason, if we're together in a room talking about our kids, it's gonna end up sounding like some twisted version of that scene from Annie Get Your Gun, with all of us bellowing, "anything your kid does, my kid does better!"

It's sad, but often true. At any given moment, there's some kid who rolled over sooner, potty trained faster, knew the alphabet earlier, and is generally better looking than your kid. And what's worse, I don't see it getting better any time soon. Pretty soon, there'll be some kid somewhere who drives better, is a better basketball player, went on a "cooler" mission (think: Switzerland vs. Ohio), has a better job, and produced grandchildren faster than your kid. When does the madness end!?

I mean, seriously, if our kids go to bed at night with all limbs intact and even basic mental capabilities, we ought to be slapping each other high fives and kicking back with a package of Oreos. So, to all moms out there: cut yourself and your kid some slack. We're all in this together, right?

P.S. My husband flat out refused to finish and publish the poo post. Rude. But since he found out Thursday night that he had to speak in church yesterday (in two separate wards), I couldn't push too hard. He says he's very sorry.