The Common Mommy Denominator

Bittersweet

2010-05-18T20:54:00.001-07:00

So we're in the house. Can't wait to post on it, can't wait to share pictures, can't wait to...well, finish getting set up, but whatever. Also can't wait to have a housewarming party so all y'all can come see this puppy...but it's going to have to wait. There are more important things.

So here it is, and I'll say it once here so I don't have to say it again.

My sister is 30 weeks pregnant with their first baby, a girl who will be named Annabel. A month or so ago they discovered the baby had dwarfism, and a week or two ago now found out it is a rare and fatal form.

Last week she had an amnio and is currently awaiting the results so that they can schedule her to be induced. She has a serious excess of amniotic fluid (which Annabel has not used, hence the non-development of her lungs and other internal organs) and it is dangerous for her to attempt to take Annabel full term, which she likely will not make anyway. She will be induced either this week or next and deliver little Miss Bananabel, who will not live more than a few moments outside the womb, if she even emerges alive. She has some deformations and is not compatible with life, and we're all worried about what might happen to mom...though we know what will happen to baby, and we're obviously heartbroken.

Tomorrow, by the way, is my sister's birthday. She should receive the results of the amnio tomorrow and be able to schedule the induction for the first available opportunity.

So I am not planning a housewarming party, and I am not dancing through the large and spacious building we now call home; instead I am preparing my children for sad grandparents and no new cousin and a devastated auntie and uncle. And I'm sad, surprise, surprise, because we're having to look into funerary arrangements for the special soul entrusted to our family for the few precious moments we'll have her.

Annabel has had quite an effect on us, and she isn't even here yet, but she will be, all too soon, and then she'll be gone. And we will love her as though she remained among us, think of her often, and hold her in our hearts to and beyond the end of time.

If you have any extra prayers lying around, please devote them to Kate & Victor and their precious Annabel Katherine Flores, and if you're not the praying type, please keep your fingers crossed. All of them.

Much obliged. More soon. Let's hope it'll be happy.

The Marine in the Grocery Store

2010-04-14T09:33:00.000-07:00

With Memorial Day creeping slowly toward us, I wanted to share an experience I had at the grocery store yesterday.

I took my daughter to the store to do our usual shopping, and as we ambled down the first aisle an elderly gentleman – spry and active as someone 50 years his junior – commented on my daughter’s “adorable blonde head”. I noticed the Veteran’s pin on his hat right away and lately have been enjoying reading Tom Brokaw’s The Greatest Generation – a nonfiction book about those who lived through and fought in WWII – so rather than just thank him for his compliment and moved on, I asked him about his service record. I’d like to tell you what he shared with me in the five or so minutes we stood there chatting.

This gentleman turned 16 in 1944. He immediately signed up for active duty in the military – he became a Marine – and lied about his age to do so. He was found out just before he was supposed to ship out to the South Pacific and was kept in the states, to his great dismay. Boot camp had made him a man, he said, and he was ready to prove himself to God and country...but as he turned 17, the war was ending, and he had a decision to make. He wanted to serve. “Stick around, Corporal” said the Marines. “You’ll be shipping out sooner than you think.”

A few years later he went to Korea. He says it was there that he was REALLY made a man; he’d been wrong the first time. He was fascinated by the people and culture, fought with everything in him, and said he nearly froze to death every night every winter. When his service was complete, he had a decision to make. He still wanted to serve...but he wanted to serve somewhere a little warmer. “Stick around, Sergeant,” said the Marines. “You’ll be shipping out sooner than you think...and it’ll be warm there.”

And he did. And then he served in Vietnam. Still he was fascinated by the people and culture, fought with everything in him – and bolstered the morale of many a man who learned he had fought in, survived, and returned from Korea only to lead them now – and said he practically baked in his skin and took a shower in his clothes just walking outside every day he served there. When his service was complete, he had a decision to make, and he served until 1973 when finally he retired.

Twenty years later the US became involved in Desert Storm, and he called up the Marines, offering his services and citing former military service. They asked where he had served, and when they found it he was just a little older than their average active-duty corpsman, they politely declined his help. He was disappointed. “I could have at least sat behind a desk in Afghanistan or Saudi and done paperwork,” he reflected sadly. “They can always use someone with a little experience...but I suppose it is your generation’s turn to protect this great nation of ours.”

Indeed, sir. You have served honorably and valiantly in the defense of these United States to ensure my freedom, and God bless you for it. It is our turn. We must overcome our entitlement attitudes and see this country for what it is...for what it was intended to be...to actively contribute to it and to make it even better if it is within our power to do so.

That gentleman made me proud to be an American, proud of our servicemen and women, proud to be a conservative who values our country’s Constitution and wishes to take personal responsibility for my life instead of letting my government grow so big that it makes my decisions for me. Memorial Day will take on new, extra, and a profound meaning for me this year, thanks to this aged Marine and those who fought – some who died – as he served. God bless him, God bless them all, God bless our country, and God bless us as we face the challenge of protecting this, our beloved country, from foes both foreign and domestic.

Much love,
Jessica

WE'RE IN ESCROW!!!

2010-04-07T15:55:00.000-07:00

So, I'd spend a few pages explaining our home-buying situation, but suffice it to say that we are finally in escrow on a beautiful home in Lake Elsinore and are hoping to close by the end of the month of April. Long story short, the one we wanted that we waited 4 months didn't (SHORT SALE) work out, but right about the time we started looking again, up popped this house with a floorplan we'd already walked through and loved...it just had really crappy pictures up for MLS (which works in our favor). It was (IS...this is our soon-to-be-home!) a short sale, but was already in escrow...the buyers just couldn't close the loan in time. Enter our fabulous realtor (and bishop, which is awesome!) who steps in to say "We can do it!" and BAM!, bank says sure, but we have to close by May 10th. Our loan guy says "Great!" and we say "April 30th?" to which he says "I'm on it!" So..........................here we are, Lord willing 23 days before we move into our (almost dream!) home, unless we get delayed by up to 10 days, in which case we'll be there in a month!

Maybe that WAS a long story. At least it wasn't multi-paragraph, right?

So now you want the details...the specs. Here we go: built in '06, 3 homes from the end of a cul-de-sac on a quiet little hill in a first-division home in a beautiful tract in Elsinore JUST off the 74 (Jason's commute route) and about an hour from Nona/Papa and Tee/Boo. 2643 sq ft, 4 bed, 2 1/2 bath with a very large upstairs bonus room, 3 car garage w/ epoxy flooring, on an almost 8000 sq ft lot. The backyard is unlandscaped (which is fine, because we want to put in a patio/bbq/firepit/garden/a bunch of fake grass for a tax credit!) and the home has an already-installed alarm system (which will end up being about $10/mo), a pretty front porch, an island kitchen with granite countertops and walk-in pantry, a huge 5 burner gass range and double ovens, a fireplace in the family room, a giant under-stair storage closet, custom wood blinds throughout (and tons of natural light!), double doors on the master bedroom, a seperate tub and shower in the master with double silkstone sinks and a water closet, plus a walk-in master closet. Like Katrina said, we didn't compromise on features we wanted, and like Audrey said, I took a good look at the house to see how easy or difficult it would be to maintain. Thank you both. :)

So...that's really all there is to say about the house. I'm guessing you'd just rather see pictures.

Keep in mind I don't like their paint - actually, the paint is fine, it's just that I hate the accent walls - and the carpet, while unspotted and pretty, needs a deep-clean...but all around, we love it and we'll change it if and when we have the time...and the money, which is really the issue. :) We WILL, however, "earn" the $8k first time homebuyer tax credit, so maybe we can pour a concrete patio and get a really "cool" (yup, I'm lame) fridge after all.

Thanks for all your prayers, thoughts, advice, and encouragement, friends! We appreciate you pulling for us, and we're glad to say it has (or is about to) all paid off...and will pay off for you, too, next time you want to come visit SoCal and need a free hotel!

PS...T&M thank you too...because they will very soon have their very own rooms, window seats and all!!!!!

Because I Needed a Smile...

2010-03-02T21:35:00.000-08:00

My mom sent me this...check it out. AWE-----SOME.

Jennifer's wedding day was fast approaching. Nothing could dampen her excitement - not even her parent's nasty divorce. Her mother had found the PERFECT dress to wear, and would be the best-dressed mother-of-the-bride ever!

A week later, Jennifer was horrified to learn that her father's new young wife had bought the exact same dress as her mother! Jennifer asked her father's new young wife to exchange it, but she refused. ''Absolutely not! I look like a million bucks in this dress, and I'm wearing it,'' she replied.

Jennifer told her mother who graciously said, ''Never mind sweetheart. I'll get another dress. After all, it's your special day.''

A few days later, they went shopping, and did find another gorgeous dress for her mother. When they stopped for lunch, Jennifer asked her mother, ''Aren't you going to return the other dress? You really don't have another occasion where you could wear it..."

Her mother just smiled and replied, ''Of course I do, dear.....I'm wearing it to the rehearsal dinner the night before the wedding.''

LOOOOOOOOOVE IT!!!!!!!!!!!!! What do they say? Don't get mad...get ahead. :) Enjoy!

BROKEN

2010-03-02T14:50:00.000-08:00

That's right, people...the 4th toe (next to the pinky toe) on my left foot is...BROKEN.

That's what I get for skipping out on church right after the sacrament, right?

So we got home from church Sunday (it was just me and the kids because Jason was sick) and I made the kids lunch, and as I was crossing the room from the table toward the couch...

WHAM!!!!!!!!!

I kicked one of the legs of a dining room chair.

I swear, I think I heard the break.

Anyway, WHAM!, and I was down on the floor rolling around and grabbing at my poor lame socked foot as though I was going to die.

You see, I actually have an incredibly high pain tolerance...but a toe? Now THAT'S pain.

So my sweet, sick husband asks me to get up and come see him at the couch so he can take a look, and somewhere between a gasp and a sob I yell, "I can't!"

He comes to me.

He pulls off my sock and tries not to vomit thanks to my unshaven legs...and then looks at my poor toe, bent in entirely the wrong direction and provoking a scream from me when he tries to bend it. So he asks ME to try to bend it. I fight back the scream, but the toe is swelling - badly - and the answer is clear: it's broken.

So my folks come over to hang with the munchkins and it's off to urgent care with my already-sick husband for the next 3 hours (between wait time, wait-in-the-patient-room time, x-ray time, and here-are-your-crutches-so-you-can-go-now time), where my toe is buddy-wrapped to it's - for lack of a better term - buddy, and I'm sent out on a brand new pair of crutches (which have since, I KID YOU NOT, bruised both the palms of my hands and my underarms). "Be sure you make an appointment with an orthopedic surgeon," the doctor tells me as I'm leaving. "That way he can decide if it needs to be set, rebroken and set, or operated on!"

My husband reminds me it's a hairline fracture on the way out the door, God bless him.

So I have an appt for this Thursday to assess the damage with an orthopedist, a big ugly bruise starting at my toe and spreading like a disease, a pair of crutches I'm trying not to use, my mom's automatic-shift car in case I really need to go somewhere, Cory as an excuse for my broken toe since I don't want to take responsibility for my own klutziness (it was, after all, her old dining room chair that did this to me, to thanks a lot, Cory!) (Just kidding, lady...love ya!), and a fabulous friend in Chelsea Stewart (who, ironically, I now visit teach, though she's the one serving me!) who is willing to retrieve my son from kindergarten after school every day this week so I don't have to crutch it on my bruised underarms. God bless her, too.

Also, I have a doctor's not "for work" - Jason accepted it with a smile and an eye roll - that I'm going to try to use this Saturday for Disneyland. Heck, if I have to be hobbled and on crutches 'til the 10th or longer, I might as well take the opportunity to rent a wheelchair and get on rides lickety-split. It's legit, after all. Just take a look at that toe...and that's AFTER two days of being taped to its middle-toe friend and me tossing and turning - CAREFULLY - for two sleepless nights with my foot throbbing.

That orthopedist better deliver some percoset, people, because ibuprofen, tylenol, and naproxin just aren't cutting it. (Not together, by the way...) Who knew how PAINFUL one stupid little toe could be? And it's not supposed to heal for 6 weeks? So much for getting back to the gym...for afternoons with the kids at Disney...for days at the park with friends watching our kids play...wait, I don't have friends with kids to watch play in the park. Don't worry about that one, then. Anyway, my plans for the week are shot. Hope you're doing better than my toe.

More soon. I hope. And I also hope it'll be good news...like, I'm going to be right as rain by Saturday but I can still use the work note for an accessibility pass. Riiiiiiiiight. Anyway, thanks for letting me vent, and...enjoy the pictures?

Top 10...Because Everybody Else is Doing it, and I'm That Kind of Girl

2010-02-22T18:48:00.000-08:00

Yes, it's true, this is a Mormon Mommy Blog, and according to SSB, that means it's all about Moi. Additionally, no one cares about Moi because Moi is a Mormon Mommy, so feel free to skip it if you like.

Following are the Top 10 Movies that have impacted my life. Enjoy. And if you feel so inclined, blog about yours. I'm interested. :)

1. The Shawshank Redemption: This may very well be one of the greatest films of all time. Not only is it based on a Stephen King story, it has feasibly the most beautiful scene in recorded history: a prison yard full of criminals transformed - even if for only a moment - by the heavenly sound of opera on a loudspeaker. It never fails to lift me, to remind me of the power and resiliency of the human spirit, and to prove that we are all capable of dramatic change...both for the good and the bad.

2. What Dreams May Come: Robin Williams is quite possibly the most versatile actor in Hollywood EVER, and this film is breathtaking. It afforded me the opportunity to reexamine my faith and beliefs, not to mention offered an entirely new way of looking at love. Don't ask me to explain...just watch the movie.

3. (Disney's) Peter Pan: The first Halloween I got to choose my own costume, I picked Peter Pan. I was three. Some days I still believe I can fly.

4. Moll Flanders: We are all one being. And I am Moll. Darn that sense of self! (And we can't forget to mention Morgan Freeman's "Sent ya that...how'd ya like it?" Or Aisling Corcoran's "Well, I's a need to pee in my schedule!" or "How do you know? You're not a dog!" Aaaah.)

5. A Little Princess (1996): Talk about a little optimism changing an outlook! This movie always reminds me of the value of human life, the benefits of imagination, and is one of the single most beautifully-expressed, cinematographically-perfect films ever. I actually wrote a college paper on it. Wow.

6. The Matrix: I started my student teaching at Taylorsville High. When I left halfway through, post-Shakespeare competition, I was given a card (and a beebee gun) signed by all my Shakespeare students with the Matrix quote "You are the One." Of course, the film was a breakthrough for its time and the soundtrack is one to lose yourself in, but all told, they could have stopped at # 1 and it still would've been phenomenal.

7. It's a Wonderful Life: I never watch this movie that I don't cry. From time to time we all lose sight of the value of a soul, and this brings it back to me...every time. I also never watch this movie that something new doesn't jump out and bite me in the butt. "Please, Mr. Gower, please don't hurt my sore ear again!" (I'm near-tears even typing that.)

8. Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves: This movie defined - and saved - my teenage existence. Just about every doodled-on paper I own from 13 - 17 has a crossbow, sword, or other Robin Hood-related item on it. It was how I lost myself, and the beginning of losing myself in art. Not that Costner's performance was art, but...when you're 13 and staring at Christian Slater, Costner's accent doesn't matter much.

9. Dangerous Beauty: Veronica and I have the same world view. I can't write poetry, of course, and I only wish I had her wit, but I relate to her in so many ways it's frightening. In great part because she was a courtesan, and I'm a Mormon Mommy. Maybe I should be frightened.

10. Wait Until Dark: Never have I ever wanted to act more than when I watched Audrey Hepburn - one of the most stunning skinny women ever to have lived - stagger blindly through a darkened room to escape Alan Arkin. I screamed. I was so scared I practically threw up. She was brilliant. If it hadn't been for her idiot husband in the final scene, I'd declare it the best suspense thriller ever made. But Audrey was brilliant. I can't decide whether I'd rather look like her or Angelina Jolie. Thankfully (?), I'll never have to choose...because I don't look like either. And thanks, Audrey, for making me aspire to something I knew I would never achieve, because that was what made me ultimately "settle" for teaching, and what ultimately allowed me to "settle" for being a wife and stay-home mom, which (most days) turns out to be my life-long dream.

Good stuff.

Coconuts

2010-02-19T12:13:00.000-08:00

Went to Northgate Market today after we dropped Ty at school...and on a whim, I bought a fresh husked coconut.

The idea of drinking out of a coconut with a straw was intriguing, so I thought, "Why not?"

I brought it home, drove a screwdriver through two of the three top holes, and a bit of coconut water spewed out each hole when I got all the way through it.

I then proceeded to drain the coconut (because I realized I had no straws) and tried to hack it into pieces to eat the meat.

I learned a few things about coconuts today:

A) Coconut water is great when you're stranded on a desert island with no fresh water. When you're in Anaheim, however, and you have a Brita to rid your tap water of that metallic sewer taste, coconut water is "eh."

B) Coconuts contain a HECKUVA lot of coconut water!!! Note to self: next time I want to drain a coconut, use a large glass!

C) Coconuts are a huge pain in the butt to hack into when you don't have a machete. A butcher's knife will work - slowly, and if the coconut is resting on the kitchen floor - but you have to hack like crazy, so watch out for your fingers and your linoleum.

D) The white meat-stuff in the middle of a fresh coconut is mildly slimy and doesn't take much like coconut. Let it dry out before you try to eat it. Seriously.

So...I have educated myself on coconuts today and had a 20 minute kitchen adventure, all for only $1.49! I can't say I'd recommend the experience, but heck...if you're curious, at least its a new experience!

I Need to Vent

2010-02-15T10:04:00.000-08:00

So skip this if you're not up for it.

Lots of things have been pissing me off lately, and I'm not even still on the hcg diet, so that's saying something. (EVERYTHING was pissing me off then!) And oddly enough, that's part of what has been pissing me off.

After hcg I've been trying to go back to a "normal" diet...which means introducing fats, sugar, and refined flour into my diet. I want to die. I'm in pain, cramped, sluggish, re-fattening, and getting headaches. My body HATES the "traditional" Western diet. We were NOT made to eat #2 feed corn...which happens to be in just about EVERYTHING we consume. I could go into this for the next 3 days because I've read, seen, heard, and now know enough I could write my own book about it, but the bottom line is that we get fat and our bodies give out thanks primarily to inedible #2 (not yummy sweet!) corn. And I'm bitter at our government for it. VERY bitter. But until we have a home, I don't see much of a way around it.

So then there's bitterness # 2: short sales. They take FOREVER. Why? Because of the sheer volume of short sales and foreclosures out there. I realize the economy sucks, and if you're on the verge of foreclosure and its been delayed months and months because the bank just hasn't gotten around to you yet, I'm sure you're feeling blessed. We, however, are feeling cursed. We just want to get our kids into a home. That's all. Have some more room, be in a better, safer area, be able to make new friends at church and in our neighborhood, and maybe grow a garden to feed ourselves quality plants on the cheap(er). Offer on our dream home? Middle of December. Haven't heard anything...middle of February. And we're the only offer, people. Seriously. I blame The Greedy. And I'm bitter.

I'm not just bitter at The Greedy, though...I'm bitter at gays and college students. The whole "support same-sex marriage" bit is all over facebook again, and it makes me cringe. And I also cringe at the people who post and favor and "fan" pro-gay-marriage stuff and then get pissed off if you have the audacity to disagree. Hey, they want to publicly support? Why can't I publicly defend REAL marriage?

Because the bottom line is that gays don't want gay "marriage" - they have civil unions, which legally MUST be line-for-line the same thing - they want those of us against their unnatural behavior to have to validate their choice in sex partners by CALLING them married.

So gays piss me off because they refuse to respect my faith, and college students (not all of you, surely, not to worry) piss me off because they refuse to respect my experience. Lately it seems like so many of the college kids I know - or some of their friends - have been acting as though they are God's intellectual gift to us all. "I took a class about that, so I know more than you." Or "that's the old way of thinking...my professor has taught me the new way, so here you go!"

People, that's like being the world's best parent...before you have kids. I don't give a good flying fart about what you THINK you know, or what your professor pretends to know. Don't you go being disrespectful of me and my experience just because I mispell something on my blog or use the wrong word on facebook...you were up all night on a drinking binge, but I've been up all night for the last week with a sick child. Kiss off, college kid.

And finally, kiss off, "Seriously So Blessed." I've heard a lot about you lately, you and your celebrated irony, so I finally read some of your work. And you're a hag.

Not because I think you're real, but because you garner attention and laughter by mocking your average Mormon Mommy Blog. Yes, there are loads of Mormon Mommy Blogs to be had. That's because the only people who have time to chronicle the hiccups in the banality of their lives, plus have a desire to seek out comraderie and a connection with other adults, are the people who stay home with their kids, and in this day and age, that more often that not means a Mormon stay-home Mom. We deserve support and understanding, not your miserable, cruel mockery. And even if it wasn't intended that way, that's how the media understands, and is what has garnered you your fame. And you're proud of that fame and have done nothing to correct their understanding, so I'm fairly certain you intend to make a mockery of us stay-home moms slogging through day by day. That means you're one ugly TAMN, lady (or ladies?).

So my hide has been chapped. And now that I've vented thoroughly (thank you), I'm going to go rub some Desitin on my tushy and clean up some more of my three year-old's vomit. Cheers and good day!

Th-Th-Th-That's All, Folks!

2010-02-03T20:47:00.000-08:00

It's official. I'm done.

For now.

With what, you ask?

Well, let me tell you:

DRAFT 1 OF THE 1ST NOVEL OF THE UNBOUND SERIES IS COMPLETE!!!!!!!!!!!

Yes, you read that right...my manuscript is finished. All 27 chapters plus a pro-and-an-epi-logue. 626 kilobytes of typing, or 210 typewritten pages, which translates to a 420 page novel!

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh. Feelin' good right now.

Of course, now it must be revised. Edited. Torn to shreds and rebuilt to be a thousand times better than it is now.

And for the moment, I have my blinders on, so I need readers to wade through it and tell me where I'm going wrong...or going right, as the case may be.

A caveat: I am NOT cradling this thing to my chest and proclaiming it my baby. Well, okay, I did the moment I was finished...but five minutes later I was over it. It's ready to shred.

So...if you're interested...let me know. I have a book for you to read. It's not hardbound, or even softbound, but it is a digital file capable of being emailed to those eager (translation: skeptical but willing for my sake) readers willing to sacrifice their time, effort, and sanity on my book.

Hey, at least it's more or less grammatically correct. And I don't think I ever use the word "sparkly," so that's a plus. Oh, and I planned the entire thing start to finish...so it has a plot. And characters. Some of whom are well-developed.

Still deciding whether it's a young adult or an adult fiction novel, but I'm pretty sure it falls into the "paranormal romance" category. No, it's not Twilight. There are no vampires, it's not a Romeo and Juliet tale, and, well...you'll just have to read it.

Provided, of course, you have the time and sanity.

...

ANYWAY...........................I DEEEED EEEET! WOOHOOOOOOO!!!!! (And now the real work begins. Woohoo now being followed by a big sigh.)

Another Ubiquitous Update

2010-01-27T11:51:00.001-08:00

Quick rundown, in case you were wondering:

Working on Chapter 23 of the book as I type this. Okay, not as I type this, or I'd be typing in my book file, which file, however, IS open and minimized on my desktop. In other words, as soon as I'm done here, I'll be working on Chapter 23. Considering that - thanks to Adrienne and Cory and Katrina and Ana - I have now finished 8 chapters in 6 days, I'm feeling pretty proud of myself...especially since I honestly had not touched the book since Thanksgiving.

9 chapters (including the one I'm working on) plus an epilogue to go. Life is good. Now let's see if I can do it!

On the home front...and I do mean home...we have an offer on a home that has been or will be submitted to the bank...the only offer that will be submitted to the bank. Apparently it has been on the market for the last couple of months, and the other offer they received for the home was lower than ours...which works out very well for us. It has ALSO worked out well for us that the photos posted on the internet to advertise the home in the first place were absolute CRAP...the home is SOOOOO much more beautiful than any of those photos showed, and I don't understand why they selected those photos in the first place...but I don't care, either. It has worked in our favor. That rocks.

So now, since the home is a short sale (ie. distress sale...the people living in it want to sell it and are working with the bank to sell the home for less than they themselves paid for it so they can walk away without destroying their own credit), we're pretty much just waiting on the bank to get back to us with a "that's way too low an offer, go house hunt somewhere else!" or a "let's start escrow now." With our luck, it'll be a "hunt somewhere else!", but we're trying to be optimistic because we really do love the home: it's in a REALLY nice neighborhood in Lake Elsinore, is 3200 sq ft with a 3 car garage and an island kitchen, and has 4 bedrooms, a den, a formal living and dining area, a casual living and dining area, and a whole lot of extra, well, extras, that I can't remember off the top of my head. In other words, we REALLY want it...which is why I'm worried that we're NOT going to get it.

Cest la vie.

Kids are good, Jason's good, (working long hours still, but at least he enjoys his job now!) and we're looking forward to a quickly-approaching visit from the Keith&Wendy family grouping. Other than that, we have a few playdates scheduled, I'm writing my fingers bloody, and I can't think of one single thing more to say! Thanks for checking in, and I'll try to have something intelligent to post as an update soon!

AWESOME

2010-01-27T11:46:00.003-08:00

Not that it makes any difference in the great scheme of things, but I have a new favorite thing:

MAGNETIC CHIP CLIPS.

Those puppies are awesome!

I love chip clips anyway, of course, because we often have multiple bags of a variety of chips of some sort in the house (don't judge me), and we're slow to go through them (SEE?!) so they often get stale before we reach the bottom of the bag...but the chip clips will delay that inevitable ickiness, making them invaluable...

...when you can find them in your tiny little overcrowded poor excuse for a kitchen, that is.

Enter the magnetic chip clip. Need a chip clip stat? Look no farther than your own refrigerator! THERE IT IS!!!

However thought to put a magnet on the back of a chip clip deserves a Mommy Award, because, Dude...You Rock.

AWESOME

2010-01-27T11:46:00.001-08:00

Not that it makes any difference in the great scheme of things, but I have a new favorite thing:

MAGNETIC CHIP CLIPS.

Whatda Het?!

2010-01-21T09:49:00.000-08:00

Magoo approached me just a moment ago, said, "I love you, Mom," and proceeded to turn my head to face her...and then immediately placed an unpopped corn kernel IN MY EAR.

I looked at her and said, "What the heck?"

She parroted, "Whatda het?"

I reached into my ear and pulled out the corn kernel, asking her to put it in the trash, and she marched to the garbage, threw it in, and summarily announced "I'm mad at you, Mom!"

I just smiled.

When it didn't have the desired effect, she asked, "Do you mont do know my?" (Translation: Do you want to know why?")

I said, "Sure, tell me why."

And she stared at me, her nostrils flared, obviously grumpy, and stated at the top of her lungs: "I don't know!"

Must be hard being 3.

Boning & Stuffing a Chicken

2010-01-19T08:33:00.000-08:00

That's right, I'm a Martha Stewart...without the prison term, self-righteous, high-handed moralizing, or crappy attitude!

Yes, I, too, can remove all the bones from and roll with stuffing a considerably-sized chicken!

Care to watch?

Well, ya can't. My hands were coated in chicken, and Jason wasn't home yet...but he DID get home in time to take a few rolling-and-baking photos for me, so at least you'll get to see those!

Fully boned, laid flat, and ready for a line of stuffing down the middle!

Speaking of that line of stuffing...okay, it was more like a giant log of stuffing...

Rolling it up breast-meat first (because light meat burns more easily, and this way, with the dark meat wrapped over it, it's self-basting!) so I can make Jason butcher tie it for me. (He's really good at butcher-tying, oddly enough!)

Told you he was good at butcher-tying! Yeah, yeah, it looks awful now...like a headless, legless, deformed baby pig. But JUST...YOU..WAIT.

Even a headless, legless, deformed baby pig looks better rubbed with a thick layer of butter and surrounded by leftover stuffing!

People, this chicken baked @ 350 in 90 minutes (and probably less, but I wanted to be sure), the stuffing was built-in and fully cooked, and the stuffing surrounding it took the cake; crispy, butter-soaked, and hedonistic to the max. No, really, check it out...compare the photo above it to the stuffing in this shot. OH...MY...GOODHEAVENS.

The masterpiece. Wow. (No, not the cheese-bacon-sour cream mashed potatoes. Not the Pillsbury Crescent Rolls, either. Geez.) That, my friends, is a one inch-thick cross-section slice of white-and-dark-meat boned chicken roll-up with stuffing in the middle. And once you've had it that way, you'll never, ever, ever go back. (Unless, of course, you screw up the chicken when you bone it, and then you'll just be mad at me. But it's a trial-and-error process...don't forget that. My first boned chicken wasn't so pretty either.)

If you want help boning a chicken, let me know...or do a google search for deboning a chicken. (Is it boning or deboning? Boning would be getting the bones out, and deboning would be getting the bones out, too, wouldn't? Why waste the extra syllable on de-boning?) Anyway...YUUUUMMM. Jason's new favorite way to eat roast chicken...plus, he gets white AND dark meat in every bite!

Bon Appetit!

Caught in the Act!

2009-12-21T14:07:00.001-08:00

AH-HA! I KNEW IT! MY KIDS DO LOVE EACH OTHER!!!

I threw in a movie the other night so I could get some stuff done around the house (I use the term loosely) before bed, and BAM!, I caught my kids thusly:

When they noticed me noticing them, they just turned toward me and smiled.

That smile says, "We did it! Now she'll be all warm and fuzzy toward us for the rest of the night!" And it worked. Until she elbowed him in the ribs about 3 minutes later.

But I got the pictures! I have the proof! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAA...(my maniacal laughter fades in the background...)

Yeah, They Can Sit on His Lap and...EEEEEEEKKKK!!!

2009-12-21T14:01:00.000-08:00

Took the kids to see Santa at Disney this year...

I don't know who this guy is, but for some reason he absolutely terrifies me. I think Magoo had misgivings, too. Anyway...

Here's our family-with-Santa picture for 2009.

Anyone else see where I'm coming from?!

T-Day & Goo-Day

2009-12-21T13:16:00.000-08:00

Thanksgiving this year was spent in AZ with the AZ fam...the Bradshaw side. You know, there's something about getting together with extended family that you only see two or three times a year...it doesn't have to be "memorable", it's just nice to be TOGETHER. That's how this Thanksgiving was. Other than the bounce house we rented for Mom and Dad's backyard (which proved popular amongst the younger set, surprise, surprise), there wasn't really anything about it that stands out as a truly memorable moment...it was just plain FUN! And relaxing. Boy, does that make a difference.

We stayed and M&D's and everyone came to their place for Turkey Day, so we didn't really have to run around visiting...everyone came to us. Notably, though, Bonna and Dave were with us (Wendy's Mom and stepDad), and Kim, Bella, and Kathy joined us, too, which was super-fun. I even got to run out with KBK to take some photos, and boy, were they STUNNING. I took close to 100 shots, and a good 60 or 70 of them came out PERFECTLY. No retouching required, and the 30 or 40 that weren't PERFECT were courtesy of blinking or blowing hair, etc etc. (Check out the one I'm posting. That was the very last one of the day, when kids start to wind down, but Bella was a TROOPER!) Anyway, it was great, Jewels and RooRoo stayed over on T-day Night, kids bounced in the bounce house some more, and...it was just plain great. (Plus, we got to hit up Pete's Fish and Chips right before we left for home...Mom and Dad met us there after their temple shift ended; GREAT food, GREAT company, VERY successful trip.) (I'm using the word "Great" a lot, I realize that, but I'm not in writer mode right now, so...there.)

That said, I'm feeling a little crappy about not getting Thank You cards to our extended family for all the gifts they showered on Goo for her pre-3rd birthday. (They held a combined birthday celebration for Haley and Mia, hence the bounce house...) So...to Bonna and Dave, Keith and Wendy, Grandma and Grandpa, and Trina & Fam...THANK YOU. (It's been hectic. No excuse, I'm just not keeping up like I was, and I'm sorry.)

So Mia's birthday was that following Monday, and boy, that little girl scored. :) She has officially entered the "I'm a princess" phase, and so long as we don't let her ACT like a princess, it's really quite cute. I spent some money building up her dress-up stash after Halloween (75% ALL Halloween costumes at Target!!!) and there's this pink princess dress...well, anyway, Nona and Papa got her a set of 5 pairs of Disney Princess shoes and a crown to match and she doesn't want to wear ANY other shoes. Pair the pink pair with her PinkPwincess dress and her new PinkTwown and she's dressed to go out...in public. (Why not? She'll only be able to get away with it for another couple years, right?) (Besides, one of the reasons I was so excited to have a girl was because I looked forward to dressing her up...and now she actually wants to!)

My baby is 3. My son is in kindergarten. Thanksgiving is over, Christmas is four days away...and all I can do right now is shrug. I wish I had something fabulous, brilliant, and genius to say or to report, but...enjoy the photos. (That's the best I can do.) Oh, and...merry almost Christmas!!!

DO-OVER

2009-12-21T12:57:00.000-08:00

Let's try this again.

I wrote a post the other day about Jay's new job and our house hunt, but apparently it set off a bunch of bells and whistles where he now works, and he was asked to have me remove my blog post. I never got to...Jason just hopped on and deleted it. It took me 90 minutes. Now it's gone. I'm a little sad, but I'm now going to spend...oh, about 10 minutes repeating myself in brief.

Brief. Yeah, right. We're talking about ME here.

I'll try.

Anyway, Jason now works for...a company...in south Orange County. AND HE LOVES IT.

They treat him beautifully, he already knows everyone he works with thanks to some prior connections, and he's absolutely thrilled...particularly since he is no longer an accountant at a public firm. That means NORMAL hours (no more 23 1/2 hour days, Lord willing), competitive pay, and a couple bosses instead of 15 of them. It also means he has his own desk and work space, sees the same people every day, and so long as the company isn't filing with the SEC, knows when he'll be heading to work and when he'll be getting home.

NICE.

Which means we're here for a while. (Possibly forever.) So we want to get settled. Which means buying a home. And the best bang for your buck is east of OC, meaning Corona, Riverside, or via the 74, a pretty straight shot from the new job, Lake Elsinore. We've chosen Elsinore, where we're hoping to find a home over 2500 sq ft for under 250k. There, that's not unreasonable. (Whoda thunk there would be a place an hour from OC where you could buy a home for that price?!)

Yes, yes, yes, the Ortega Hwy is treacherous. Yes, yes, yes, the people in Lake Elsinore are not your average Los Angeleans (Thank HEAVENS!). Yes, yes, yes, parts of the 15 are a pit. But outside of Mello Roos, we're in love, and SO INCREDIBLY GRATEFUL to Maureen and Bishop Christensen for their tireless efforts and boundless patience as our realtors.

If you're looking for a home in Southern California, boy, have I got a pair of realtors for you! They're educating us on the process, helping us weather the disappointments, and are eternally optimistic for our eventual settling...and we love them! THANKS, CHRISTENSENS!

So...yeah. That's all. Jason's been looking to leave the firm for a while, and when this came along, he was interested not only to get out of the firm but because the position is a really excellent position at a really excellent company. And I'm thrilled for him. From interview to hiring it took about a month, and Jason's patience paid off. In spades. Did I mention he loves it (at this nameless-but-fabulous company) there?

No honeymoon for a while, but a home is forthcoming, and we'll update you as we progress! Thanks to EVERYONE for your support!

Devastated by the Dr. Phil Show

2009-12-16T12:36:00.000-08:00

About 18 months ago - EIGHTEEN MONTHS! - I wrote in to Doctor Phil to ask about post-pregnancy weight loss. (It might even have been longer than that!) As (most) any woman who has given birth to a child knows, "bouncing back" is kind of a joke. Then again, I hadn't started taking alli or going regularly (or at all) to the gym yet, so...yeah.

Anyway, I wrote it, never heard a thing, fixed myself, and that was that.

Until a few weeks ago, when I got a call from the Dr. Phil Show asking me about my weight loss goals, and if I used (specifically) Hoodia in my pursuits. I DO have a bottle (from which, over 18 months, I've taken make 4 pills) so I said yes, I'd used it, but preferred alli. Brian - the producer to whom I was speaking - told me that they were focusing on Hoodia, and I didn't "need to mention" alli. Was I still concerned about my weight, he wanted to know. Well, yes, I suppose; I never got down to my target weight, but technically I'm well-within my BMI these days, so... That was beside the point. I was still concerned, I was "taking" Hoodia, and would I be interested in asking Dr. Phil about the safety of Hoodia on the show?

Uh, go on TV? Sure, why not!

So he took down a brief criminal and psychiatric history for me, and then explained that another producer would be contacting me shortly. Okay, sure. 10 minutes later a woman calls, asking for my email address so that she can send me directions for "my video"...and a script to match. Yes, you read that right: a SCRIPT. The video instructions gave me very specific directions for the sort of shots they'd need - one with Hoodia in hand, one going into my medicine cabinet for the pills, one standing on the scale looking unhappy, one holding up clothing in from of my closet and looking dissatisfied with the options...etc, etc. And they wanted them before midnight. On a Thursday. When Jason was working late.

Jay filmed them, I uploaded them to their site on photobucket, and then I was emailed a release form, which I signed and faxed back. They confirmed they liked my videos, and that they'd received the fax.

I didn't hear from them again for 5 days.

When Brian called back, he said they were still considering the shoot, but did I have anyone in my immediate family "also concerned" about my "taking drugs" to help me lose weight? "Well, yeah, my husband, I guess."

"Good, can I talk to him?"

"He's at work," I said. Duh.

"Okay, well, when he goes on lunch or get home, ask him to give me a call at this number..."

Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigggghhhhtttt.

Enough was enough, and Jason thought so, too. My image of Dr. Phil as the ultimate fix-it head shrinker had already tanked, thanks to deadlines, scripts, and just plain lies, and there was no way I was going on tv to lie to the nation about my obsession with weight loss and willingness to suck down appetite suppresants to drop a few pounds. That was that, and that, folks, is my story.

I really thought the Dr. Phil Show was legit. I'm devastated.

Back to relying on Dr. Laura to save the world, I guess. But I'm okay with that. She ROCKS.

Stuff 'n' Nonsense

2009-12-15T14:39:00.000-08:00

Dr. Phil, job, house, Thanksgiving, Goo's birthday. Just want to get straight what it is I'll be writing about next. For some strange reason, I feel some urgency about recording it all. Maybe it's because the world will end 3 years from now. (Adrienne?) Or maybe it's because I'm feeling sleep-deprived and the torticolus has flared up in my neck. (What am I, 80?) Anyway, this is a reminder for me about all the things I'm supposed to type about. (Like I said...80. I need written reminders.)

'Til then, enjoy our family Christmas Card photo! (My sister took it. Nice, huh? Unfortunately, I think it was the only one where we were all actually looking AT the camera, but nice nonetheless!) Merry 10-Days-'Til-Christmas!

One to Add to the Bad List

2009-12-15T14:35:00.001-08:00

Turns out one of our upstairs neighbors - here in our courtyard - disappeared from her home yesterday morning.

She's 16 years old.

Her keys, wallet, purse, cell phone, clothing - everything - is still sitting in her room.

Her parents left for work. Her friends didn't see her at school. Her parents came home from work...and she did not.

They are mad with worry. I would be even worse off, I think.

There will be a press conference in a couple hours, the girl's father pleading for her to come home, or for anyone with any information to come forward. I pray that she does, or someone does.

After all, barring everything else, it's 10 days before Christmas.

Another check mark on that bad list.

My front door is deadbolted and my sliding glass door and sliding windows have chunks of pvc in their paths. And I am............soooooooooooooooo..............done.

Oil Painting. Hm.

2009-12-14T23:46:00.000-08:00

I will never have Cory's talent for painting.

There, I've said it.

That said, I think - completely unexperienced as I am in the art of oil painting - I do pretty well for myself.

You can see other examples of my - dare I say, art? - elsewhere in this blog (and as fair warning, some of it is bad...REALLY bad...), but here are two of the more recent attempts for your viewing (pleasure? laughter? baffledom? Is that even a word?)...viewing...well, just viewing.

This one, of course, is SUPPOSED to be the Spring Sprite from The Firebird Suite in Fantasia 2000. So long as you don't have a reference picture, I consider it a fair enough likeness that those who have seen Fantasia 2000 would at least recognize who and/or what it's supposed to be. That makes me happy. But the true accomplishment, as far as I'm concerned, and as far as will ever be necessary, is that Mikayla likes it. After all, I did it for her. When we're (someday finally) in a home, it's for her bedroom. She wants princesses. I want fairies. Maybe we'll settle on fairy princesses?

And this one is for Kim/Bella. Kim likes blue. From what I recall, Bella likes yellow. They need original (artwork?) stuff to go on the walls of their beautiful, homey new...home. So...here they go. (Does art have to match decor? Wendy or Trina might know! Input, please!) Did I mention that most of Kim's tats are star-related? And that Izabella's middle name is Star? Or that I admire Kim with every fiber of my being for her love of Bella and that strength she shows by doing it all herself as a single mom/student/employee? So Kim has reached for the stars as she climbs the slippery pyramid slope and pulled down the biggest and brightest for Miss Bella Girl to reach for...and looks mighty svelt doing it, I must say. What's that brick in the background?, asks Jason. I didn't have a good answer when he asked, but maybe it's the pedestal I put Kim on for her tireless efforts...or the foundation she's built for her Bella Girl...or the pillar of strength she is, even when everything else is such a mess. Whatever it is, it fits.

So...there we go. I just finished one for Kate's baking babe - and I'm not happy with it, so I won't post a photo, but I'm glad Kate likes it (or claims to) - and I'll start painting in the sketch I did for Tyler's painting: a Storm Trooper. (He wants a Star Wars room. I'm going to lean more toward general space exploration with that one, but if Tyler wants a Storm Trooper on canvas, by golly, he'll get...something resembling a Storm Trooper on canvas.) I also have plans for paintings for Jewels, Cory, and Adrienne in the works...hey, maybe I should start taking requests? Yeah, right. How about MAKING requests of Cory. That sounds SOOOO much better. After all, I need to get back to my book, right?

I AM partway into chapter 14...

And there I will stay while I play with oil paint just a little while longer.

Anyone else notice I'm starting to collect hobbies? Like that girl in The Brothers Bloom. Wait, was that R-rated? Never mind. You didn't see it.................and neither did I. Right. So, really, never mind. Because I don't watch such things. Even if they have theatrical merit. (But her character was fabulous, so if you have Clear Play...)

Okay, all right, enough is enough, and now I'm babbling. Goodnight, all. More in the morning...or something like that.

The BAD List

2009-12-14T13:45:00.000-08:00

No, this has nothing to do with Santa, people...that's "the Naughty List." This, my friends, is a brief record of all the awful things that have happened - crime-wise - since we've moved to the great state of CA. Bear with me. I'll try to be quick.

When we first moved here, within days, the helicopters started. They flew over our neighborhood at LEAST twice a week, spotlights glaring, searching for criminals running free amongst us. They still do, but...at least now that's at the OTHER end of the street. So...about a block.

A couple months later, we got word that a flasher/molester was prowling our end of the neighborhood; one of our neighbors encountered him carrying her groceries back to her door and got a lovely view of his front. ALL of his front. 2 weeks later, our (DIRECTY beneath us and retired Marine) downstairs neighbor spotted the guy PASSING IN FRONT OF OUR DOORS and nabbed him, holding him 'til the police arrived.

Sometime in there we called our landlady (rather than the police, which admittedly would have been funnier!) in the middle of the night to come kick out a couple young 20-something guys in the spa RIGHT BELOW OUR BEDROOM WINDOW. They were both naked, by the way, and engaged in some patently offensive private activities when she interuppted them.

Then we moved down the other end of Glenoaks to where we are now...and a few months later, Jason's car was stolen. We got it back (it had been driven about 6 blocks away, and then they swiped the battery), forking over a chunk of money to meet our deductible to have the window replaced, the steering column replaced, a new battery installed, and basically just get it drivable again.

Meanwhile, my mother was the victim of a home invasion. Kid kicked down their front door while my mom was at work in her skivvies on the computer, told her he had a gun, made her show him where their jewelry and "rich stuff" was, forced to her lie face-down on her bed, and then he robbed her, leaving her blessedly unscathed...physically. She still sees a shrink from time to time for it (and who could blame her?!) and now my folks live in their own version of Alcatraz. Only safer.

A couple months after that, my sister's friend's dad was murdered in a mugging. I kid you not.

Then was the day after Thanksgiving, RIGHT before I delivered Miss Goo. My folks, husband, 2 year-old boy and pregnant self heard someone run full-speed past our window, followed a few moments later by two or three very big dogs. Then came the helicopters, lights, and police en masse, wearing full SWAT regalia and carrying semi-automatics. Kid had robbed a local restaurant at gunpoint and decided to hide out HERE. Guess what? They never found him. Someone in our complex did, though, and didn't think to call the police as she watched the kid hide in the filter area of the community pool. Can you say "Stupid Broad"?

A couple months after I had Goo, some crazy guy started pounding on my door, yelling something unintelligible, and then tried the door handle...about a split second after I'd locked it. I stood with my back to the door in tears with my kids napping in their room praying the door - and my back and weight - would hold and keep him out. After about 90 seconds he made a dash for the stairs and disappeared.

Back in May, our neighbors directly across the way - so, 50 feet or less from our front door - were involved in a murder-suicide. Older couple, lots of hospital bills, wife bedridden...so he ended the misery for them both. NO ONE heard the gunshots. They'd been dead a week (and the courtyard stank of rotting meat) when they were found.

Now we get the guy IN OUR CAR in our GATED parking garage.

Have I missed anything? Probably. Not sure what, off the top of my head, but there's GOT to be something. And even if I HAVEN'T missed anything, well, let's be real here: That's more than enough for one little family, isn't it?

Merry Christmas from us to you! :)

Oh Dear, Oh Dear...it's Been a While, Hasn't it?

2009-12-13T23:50:00.000-08:00

What's my excuse? Really, I don't have one. In the last month or two I've just sort of checked out of life, what can I say? I'd been feeling discouraged and grumpy and just generally wasn't much fun to be around.

But all that's changed.

Riiiiiight.

Really, though, I do have quite a few updates-and-reports, many of them just because I want to keep a record of our goings-on. Let me tell you a little about the last month and better.

I did NOT have a tummy tuck. I WILL not have a tummy tuck in the future. Why, you ask? Are we having more kids? According to the doctor, that's a "no." But I got that really atrocious head cold right before I was due to go in and was complaining one night to my husband that I'd have to reschedule and couldn't just "get it over with" so I could stop being freaked out by the whole thing, and he pointed out that every time I talked about a tummy tuck, I sounded worried, stressed, and entirely put-out. He was right. The bottom line was two things: the benefit was not worth the cost, pain, and time...and I love the Korean bathhouse so much because they are perfectly comfortable in their own skin, whatever age and state it is, so long as it's healthy and well cared-for. How could I then convince my little girl a few years from now that she's beautiful just the way she is when I myself couldn't be happy unless I went under the knife and blew 8 grand to do it? What sort of standard of beauty do I cling to, anyway? It's just me, and I realize for most women it's reparative surgery rather than vanity, but...well, it's just not for me.

I got to go to Stacy (A) K's bridal shower and bachelorette, plus the first half of her wedding ceremony. I know that the bridal bit doesn't seem noteworthy for blog posting unless it's family or best friend or whatnot, but with Stacy, it really is. She and I met back in high school, and she has forever been a strength and example to me of generosity, love and sincerity, with a willingness to fight for the little guys and the underlings. I was thrilled to have been able to share in her bridal experience - plus attend my very first "real" bachelorette party, hosted by Rita (who I've known since kindergarten 26 years ago!!! and got to also reconnect with) - and seeing Stacy walk down the aisle was truly amazing. I only got to stay 'til "I do" and the sand-pouring (I had the munchkins with me, and as is always the case when you really need them to, they just would not SHUT UP), but it was worth the insanity to see her so exquisitely happy. I'm so very thankful for her. It's not hero worship, really...but I WAS the underling. THE underling. And when someone stands up for you and treats you like a human being while all those around you - let's just say "don't" and leave it at that - you remember...and it means something. More than something. So again, soooooo happy for her, and so grateful FOR her.

Speaking of friends, Adrienne came to visit!!! I don't remember if I posted about this before, so if so, well, here it is again! Adrienne is a dear old friend of mine from my student teaching days, believe it or not, and lives with her hubby and adorable little boy in American Fork. I actually met her within a couple weeks of meeting Jay, to line up the time frame there. Crazy stuff. So...she came down for a few days' vacation, and we did it all...but the best part was threefold: 1) spending time catching up with a friend I fear I depend on more than I should, 2) comparing novel notes (she's writing both a series and a - dare I say brilliant? - take on 2012), and 3) the Korean Bathhouse. It all comes back to the Korean Bathhouse, doesn't it? Adrienne knows what I mean. It is both bliss and rebirth, and I couldn't have shared it with a better or more apt friend. Love ya, lady. Thanks for coming...and for putting up with our craziness!
For that matter, Jared and Crystal came to visit, too...and gave up on Disneyland after only half a day. Really...can you blame them? :)
The Kindergarten thing continues. Tyler won an award (did I blog about this?) for knowing all his letters, numbers, and sounds. Jason echoed Mr. Incredible: "Finding reasons to celebrate mediocrity." Not that our son is mediocre, OH, NO! What boggles our minds is that, though very bright, our son is apparently among the top two or three kids in his class...which means that other parents obviously aren't doing their jobs. 5 years old and not knowing your letters? 5 years old and can't count to 10? I'd scream, but I might wake up the kids! So, anyway, Tyler's ahead, doing very well, (If you have kids and want them to get a jump, Audrey directed me toward "Teach Your Child to Read in 100 Easy Lessons." Search it on Amazon. It's about $10 with the shipping. GENIUS.) He loves the social aspect - recess is his favorite - and I'm currently working with his class on a for-assembly "performance" of Twas the Night Before Christmas. More on that after it happens. (That's what I get for telling his teacher I was a Drama teacher a lifetime ago!)
Roman has worked his magic yet again: my cut is completely different from all the other cuts he has given me, and equally as fabulous as each and every one of them before...plus my color is AWESOME. I confess, though, it was a temp color, and as of this weekend was looking more brown than dark chocolate like it was a month ago, so...I re-dyed it. Brown-black. And I love it. Permanent is a commitment, and the roots will suck...but I can always re-dye it again...and have Roman fix it when I see him again in a few months. Never thought I'd be able to pull off this color...but I LOVE it. Should've known from the wigs, really. Good stuff. But enough about my hair...
The Dr. Phil show called. That's a whole different blog entry. Remind me. It's good.
Jason got the job at Hardie. He had last week off and starts tomorrow. Da-da-da-DA! Another blog entry!
We're house-hunting in Lake Elsinore. ANOTHER blog entry!
Roy's is our new favorite restaurant. If you have one in your area, GO. Just be prepared to fork over some dough. It's waaaaaaaaaaaaay worth it.
Still trying to get out the rest of the Christmas cards. If I've missed you so far, don't be offended...still working on it. Working on lots of things, really...
Still painting! ANOTHER blog entry!
Hung out with Hannah and kids...and Bridget and kids. Love 'em all. So nice to see another mother with similarly-aged kids every now-and-again. Wish I saw more of them.
THANKSGIVING! You guessed it...another blog entry.
MIKAYLA IS THREE!!!!!!!!!! And another one. Blog entry, that is. And year. Whatever.

So...that's a wrap for now. I'm going to go lie down. Maybe go to bed. On the couch. I don't want to disturb Jason - he's a super-light sleeper who starts a new job tomorrow - and let's be honest, the couch is better on my (31 year-old) back anyway, so other than body heat and the knowledge he's beside me, well, cest la vie. That, and he'll probably (albeit unwittingly) enjoy the starfishability of NOT having me next to him in our little queen-sized bed as my overly-indulgent coming-up-on-Christmas weight catches up to my waistline.

So. Yeah. Goodnight. And cheers.

Sometimes Things Just Don't Line Up...

2009-12-13T23:23:00.000-08:00

We all have those moments, right? Where you're lying in bed wondering whether to let yourself fall asleep, to scream and cry and rip open the pillow, or to throw in an old movie and eat yourself into a frenzy on the couch until 3 in the morning while you wait for a prozac to kick in. Those moments.

Okay, we don't all have those moments.

But I have them every once in a while. Like right now. For a plethora of reasons, and no reason at all. And Christmas is 12 days away. And Sister Kidd passed away this morning. And what if that man had been in my car just a couple hours earlier when I took the kids on a sick run while Jay was still at church? And why...why not me? And how can someone claim to know, anyway?

I know I'm not making sense. Really, it's not that late, so I don't have a good excuse for not making sense, except that I'd really rather you now know exactly what I'm talking about, but I want to remember for myself. Sigh.

Maybe I'll wrap this up and move on to the update I've been meaning to finish. Good idea. Enjoy that one instead. This one's pretty much just for me. Hope you understand.

More of the Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

2009-12-13T19:48:00.000-08:00

It's been a while, I know.

I'll do an update another time.

But for the moment...the Good: LOBSTER. We cooked a lobster this weekend. A live one. A BIG live one; approximately 3 lbs, actually. That crazy miserable fool put up a serious struggle sitting there in our sink (and it splashed a healthy amount of water onto the floor, as well...) but was no match for 12 minutes in the steamer...or the hammer that smashed its dead red body into managable cracked bits. Add some drawn butter and mmmmmmmmmmm. The Good.

The Bad: House hunting. You all warned me. It sucks. You have this mental image ahead of time that goes something like this: You chance upon an MLS listing for your dream home listed at just the right price, so you lay down your best offer...which happens to be tens of thousands of dollars below everyone else's best offer...but the couple selling the home is old and adorable and they're moving to live full-time at their Summer home off the coast of Italy, so they thumb through the offers, see you're a sweet, small family in need of a break, and they choose YOU to take your dream home off their hands...for half the price of your offer. Needless to say, it doesn't work that way - I TOLD you it was needless - and it seems we'll be home shopping for a very, very long time. At least Ryan and Maureen are our salespeople, if you will. It makes home shopping a LOT less painful if you're good friends with your realtors, I'm discovering. But other than working with the Christensens? The Bad.

Finally, the Ugly. Goo was sick this weekend. She finally started to pull it together today, and we figured, hey, what a great time for a little family Christmas Light Drive-Around. So we skip the elevator in favor of the stairs (because the car is actually directly at the bottom of the stairs) and as we exit the stairway toward the car, Jason stops us all: THERE IS SOMEONE SITTING IN THE PASSENGER SEAT. Jason walks toward the car while I collect the kids and yells - as the door opens - "What are you doing in my car?!" Out steps an intimidating-looking hispanic guy with a mustache, sideways ball cap, dark sunglasses, and baggy dark track suit, carrying our car's trash bag. For the life of me I can't remember what he said, but he was walking away with our trash bag, and I pointed out to Jay that there might be something we own IN that trash bag, so Jason called out to the guy to drop the bag right where he was or we'd call the police. The guy reached in, held up something-or-other and told Jason it was "just his CD", and dropped the bag, continuing on. Jason went to retrieve it, and when he handed it back to me, it contained our registration, insurance cards...and a little travel-sized bottle of Febreze I keep in the glove compartment. Why the heck the guy wanted Febreze, one can only guess, and what he thought he could do with our registration and insurance cards is beyond me, but there it was. Can I get an EEEK?! So that one definitely qualifies as "The Ugly."

I'd review all the crazy crap that's happened to us since we've moved to Anaheim, but I think I need to go take some Valium. Geez-louise. Only in AnaCrime. Anyway, hopefully more soon...but I've been bad lately, so don't count on it! And if I don't get around to it, MERRY CHRISTMAS! (Quick, someone send me a Round Tuit!)

The Quintessential, Perfect, World's Best Peanut Butter Cookie

2009-12-08T17:57:00.000-08:00

I found this recipe years ago - heaven only knows where by now - and my husband loved it. That said, being the baking perfectionist and peanut butter cookie devotee that he is, he has since improved upon it. Following is the recipe he just emailed to his mother, offering his reasons behind the belief that these are indeed the best peanut butter cookies in the world.

Personally, I don't think they need the chocolate. Furthermore, I don't think they even need to be baked. (This dough is Peanut Butter Heaven on a Spoon.)

But here it is. Merry Christmas, and don't say we never gave you anything. More updates soon!

Jess & the Fam

World's Best and Most Perfect Quintessential Peanut Butter Cookie (makes 4 dozen-ish)

Ingredients

One 9.5 oz. bag of Dove Silky Smooth Dark Chocolate Promises (OPTIONAL!)
1 ¼ Cups of creamy peanut butter
1 Cup of unsalted butter (softened)
1 Cup of granulated sugar
1 Cup of brown sugar
2 Large eggs
3 Cups of flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon salt (do not omit this)
2 teaspoons vanilla

Directions

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Beat butter, peanut butter, and vanilla in a large bowl. Beat in both sugars. Stir in ½ of dry ingredients, add eggs one by one, beat and mix in remaining ingredients. Place one inch balls on a baking sheet and cross hatch with a fork. Bake for 11 minutes. Remove from oven and add 1 Dove Dark Chocolate Promise to each cookie by gently depressing the chocolate on to the cookie. Place the cookies back in the oven for two more minutes. Remove cookies from oven and immediately transfer to cooling rack with gentle care (I have found using a fork to remove the cookies from the baking sheet to the cooling rack works best. Do not man-handle the cookies at this point or the chocolate may run and lose its shape).

Note: When cross-hatching the cookie, do not flatten out the cookie too much. A thick cookie will keep it soft hours after it has cooled and prevent excessive crunchiness. Plus, you don’t want a lot of peanut butter cookie surrounding the chocolate. A modest lip of cookie surrounding the chocolate after it has baked is what is being sought after here so that each cookie is almost bite-sized (but not quite).

Why I Like This Recipe

Most people will use milk chocolate Hershey’s kisses (I call these people “amateurs”). The milk chocolate makes the cookie too sweet. Also, they add the Hershey’s kiss after the cookies have finished baking. This makes the cookie difficult to bite since the chocolate has never had a chance to begin the melting process and soften. If they do add the kiss during the baking process, the tip of the kiss will burn or over-cook in the oven. I call this a lose-lose scenario. The Dark chocolate dove in this recipe is a uniform square shape, so it covers a good portion of the cookie and will evenly soften during the baking process. The dark chocolate is not excessively sweet. Allowing it to “bake” with the cookie for two minutes starts the melting process but isn’t enough to make the chocolate “runny” (unless the cookie is aggressively handled after baking). This will make the chocolate soft hours after it has cooled. Because the cookie has some thickness to it and has not quite browned in the oven, it retains its baked shape and is cooked through, though it will remain soft long after it has cooled. The result – a soft, melt-in-your mouth marriage of chocolate and peanut butter in a perfectly balanced, nearly bite-sized bite.

The Ubiquitous Update

2009-10-19T11:04:00.001-07:00

In case you hadn't been apprised...I'm supposed to go in for a tummy tuck this Thursday.

That said, I have a RAGING head cold, and have been informed that it is entirely up to the doctor whether or not he wants to cut me up while I'm sick. They'll get back to me this afternoon once he's out of surgery (on someone else).

If I were a plastic surgeon and my 31 year-old might wind up hacking up a lung a day or two after I cinch together her stomach muscles (ever notice just how much work your abs do to make you cough?), I might decline until she were better...but that's just me.

So here I am, all nervous, and even worse now that I have the possibility of postponing my agony...not to mention the fact that I'm just plain miserable thanks to sinuses stuffed full of mucuous. Ugh.

I'll keep everyone abreast of the plans (if I were having a boob job, that would be really funny!) and we have even borrowed my dad's video camera to create a vlog of the process...so you'll get to see the nastiness in all its grandeur...IF it happens this week. We'll see. Until then!

When I Have a Wife, Will You be Dead?

2009-10-06T08:52:00.001-07:00

This morning, while I sort laundry in our bedroom, my daughter grabs hold of my light-up rose that my sweet husband bought me at Disneyland a few weeks ago because I'd once mentioned that I'd always wanted one, pointless as they were. She races into the living room and hits the button to turn it on and change the bloom color, and my son, sitting at the table doing some Kindergarten workbook pages, says to her "When I get a wife and I'm a Dad, I'm gonna get one of those flowers at Disneyland for my wife!"

I come out of my bedroom thinking "aaaaaaaaaaaawwwwwwwww" and tell him how much his future wife will love it, and what a wonderful thing that is that he's willing to do.

So he looks me square in the face, sweet little guy that he is, and asks, "When I have a wife, will you be dead?"

"No, honey," I answer, "but I'll probably be about 50 years old."

"Woah, that's REALLY old," he retorts.

Maybe to him, but I'll be one thrilled 50-something when my son follows his dad's example and buys his little wifey a light-up rose at Disneyland. Love you, Jason. :) Thanks for being such a good example to our son!

Oil Painting Efforts, # 2

2009-09-21T07:55:00.000-07:00

MOST unfortunately, I will never be as good at oil painting as my dear friend Cory, but at least I'm having a bit of fun with self-expression, right? Betwixt writing a book, messing around with music-making on Acid, (and no, that doesn't mean that I'm dropping acid, it means that the Sony program I use is called Acid Music Studio!) oil painting, urban gardening, studying photoshop, video editing, developing my author-website (I am now the proud "owner" of jessicabradshaw.com, which will actually have something on it in the next few days, I hope!) and gearing up for Halloween this year, I guess maybe I DO have a talent or two after all...or maybe they're not talent, so much as interests I'm pursuing. Yes, that's probably more accurate.

Anyway, the first couple paintings I did were indicitive of a couple of the characters in the book I'm writing...and yesterday I did another abstract, which is an "update" on one of the characters and where she "is" now as I'm writing her. Things seem to be looking up for our heroine!

Then there are the other two I did yesterday...both attempts at landscapes a la Bob Ross, but if I'm being honest with myself, neither of them very good. Cest la vie, right? It WAS my first shot, and ironically, my first shot was better than my second shot.

I've learned something else about myself with painting...I am not creative. No, seriously, I live by the rule of theater: Steal. In other words, take someone's elses ideas and put them to work for you. (This doesn't apply to my book, by the way...that's all me.) Where my painting is concerned, I'm not painting me or my feelings or even really expressing MYself. Instead, I thought of a family member I'd like to do a landscape for, and got busy. Mom # 2? A desert landscape...during a monsoon. (You know, so it's cooler outside that way.) Jewels? An "asian" waterfall. (Well, it was SUPPOSED to be an asian-style waterfall. I told you I suck at this!) (Note: If I had even a modicum of shame, or the slightest tendency toward embarrassment, I wouldn't show you this next one. But I don't. Lucky you.)

What if I were to paint one for myself? Mmm, yeah, that's just it...nothing really reminds me of myself, so...if I'm going to paint, I have to paint for other people and "steal" from their lives. I'm okay with that, I guess. As long as it means I get to have fun painting - and, Lord willing, improve! - well, why not?

Speaking of which, I'm out of canvas, so I need to run to Michael's this morning and fetch a few more. Oh, and get back to my book. And develop a more effective pitch for it. And get busy building my website.

All while being a mom and wife and running a household. Wish me luck, and try not to laugh too hard at the paintings!

One for the Grandparents

2009-09-21T07:35:00.000-07:00

In Tyler's kindergarten classroom, his teacher moves a clip with each child's name on it up a behavior chart of sorts...and when a child's clip makes it to the top of the chart - thanks to tip-top behavior - the child is awarded a "Super Star."

What is a Super Star?, you ask. It's simple, really: it's a paper star cut-out. But that's beside the point. To the kindergarteners, it's a HUGE deal.

And Tyler got one.

GO, SON!!!!!!!!! You EARN those stars!!!

Jason made cupcakes with the kids last night: "sprinkle" cake with chocolate frosting. They were yummy, but true to Bradshaw form, Mikayla preferred the frosting to the cupcake, and ended up looking like Papa...mustache, goatee, and all. (Or at least, looking like Papa did before he shaved it all off again...)

GO, DAUGHTER!!!!!!!!!!! You EAT that sugar!!!

Yeah, okay, they're two very different things, and perhaps I shouldn't be encouraging the ingesting of sugar, but we thought the grandparents would enjoy the pictures, so...here you are, grandparents! Enjoy!

Mastercard

2009-09-15T14:27:00.000-07:00

1 pair of London Jeans: $4
1 pair of Express Jeans: $4
2 pair of Guess Jeans: $8
1 pair of Ann Taylor Jeans: $4
2 pair of designer-knockoff sunglasses: $8
_________________________________________________________
7 well-fitting items I love & $28 for $500 retail therapy at "rewear": PRICELESS

2 Quotes from Tyler

2009-09-14T08:53:00.000-07:00

First and foremost...the kids are sick. Very sick. As in, 10 minutes ago Tyler barfed into a bowl while watching Shrek on the couch, and an hour before that Mikayla was barfing into the same bowl while Tyler barfed in the toilet.

Since I'm a naturally self-centered person, now is the time to insert a comment revolving around me: I know I'm totally gonna catch this flu from them...which is ironic considering I'm still getting over the grown-up version of croup. Aaaaaah, kid-in-public-school. Can't wait. My throat feels like sandpaper even as a type this...and tomorrow I get to look forward to throwing up. Good times.

Back to the kids, though...

So at 2:21 this morning, Tyler comes careening into our bedroom yelling, and I quote:

"MIKAYLA'S POWERFUL-SICK!" (Magoo's retching and cries could be heard in the background...)

Huh?

If it hadn't been for the puke noises, I'd totally have started to laugh.

What year is this? "Powerful-sick?" Is my son a farmboy from Kansas...in the 1800's? "Gee, Ma, I don't know...she's powerful-sick. Mightn't we truss her up for a trip to the doc?" "Naw, son, we're still in the days of housecalls."

And speaking of quotes from my son, we're in the car as a family a couple days ago, and from the back seat we hear Tyler: "I WANT TO FLIP OFF THE WORLD!!!!!!"

Uh, really?

He immediately followed it up with "I want to flip our car off the world!" meaning, of course, that "flipping off the world" translates to "jumping really high and doing a flip so as to leave the atmosphere" - admittedly an odd thing to excite a five year-old - but I like his original quote best. The innocence of children. Cool.

He then asked what Mommy was laughing about, and I told him I wasn't laughing, I was coughing. I lied. Shoot me. But YOU try explaining to your kid what "I want to flip off the world" means to your average adult, and tell me that you wouldn't claim coughing, too.

Wish me luck with my sickies! Entry for Tyler's birthday soon!

HE DID IT!!!!!!!!

2009-09-03T14:15:00.001-07:00

Oh, YES, he did! My husband bought a motorcycle.

A 2000 Buell Blast 500, to be exact. And he loves it.

You see, my husband has been searching, well, since we got married, really, for something "fun" to call his own...an interest he could pursue that might help him reclaim - just slightly - a youth devoted to God, Work, Education, and Family. Something to excite him, to make him feel alive and eager...something to look forward to doing, and all just for him.

He has now slaved for 5 years at a thankless, exhausting job, with no serious outside interests - or time to even FIND an interest - of his own, and has found that incredibly depressing. Who am I to deny him a ray of sunshine in his otherwise dreary world of work, work, work?

SOOOOOOOO...he researched and researched and researched, took a five hour book-learning class, got his motorcycle permit at the DMV, took a ten hour practical class - which he passed with flying colors - so stringent that, once passed, the DMV only requires evidence of passing the class to license a student to ride a motorcycle (no on-bike test at the DMV!) and he has an appointment a week from now to add the motorcycle class to his license.

He has also purchased a motorcycle...AND motorcycle insurance...AND VERY SUBSTANTIAL additional life insurance...AND a full-head helmet, gloves with added knuckle and wrist protection, a motorcycle jacket, motorcycle pants, and large, substantial boots to seal the deal.

He has driven his own motorcycle exactly twice now...once around the parking lot the day he bought it, and once up and down some local residential streets. He plans on doing the same this coming Saturday morning, Sunday morning, and Monday morning at the crack of dawn.

I say good for him! For LESS than HALF of his meager bonus this year, he is suited up and ready to ride...plus done everything in his power to make sure his family will be taken care of if anything should happen...whether while riding a motorcycle, or crossing the street. That's a lot more than I can say for most husbands. Plus, he will not be riding on the freeway for SOME TIME yet, and even then, only for a single exit or two. He has not yet gone over 35 mph, and doesn't plan to have to go much faster than that. He will not be riding between cars, but staying in the flow of traffic. In other words, unlike your typical 18 year-old (or your typical 50-something Harley rider), my husband is responsible.

So I'm happy for him. I confess, I'll worry just a bit every time he leaves to go for a little jaunt around town, but this is important to him - and a great stress reliever - so it's important to me. A happy Jason makes for a happy Husband and Daddy, and that makes EVERYBODY happy.

Oh, and did I mention he looks SUPER-HOT in his moto gear? That makes me happy, too! Go, Jason! (Just...carefully, please!)

SEQUOIA!!!

2009-09-01T18:54:00.000-07:00

Okay, so...we may not have gorgeous, fantastical old structures like my blog friends Hannah and Simon in the UK...and we may not have a whole lot of history here in CA like my friend Marcus in VA...and we may be shy a few temples like Cory and Adrienne have in UT...or beautiful, wide open spaces like Kelly has in TX...but we DO have something that no one in the world can claim because they only exist in a very specific part of California, in a few small groves at a specific altitude: Sequoia trees, the biggest trees (not by height like Cameron has in Northern CA or by circumference like my blog friend Denis in Africa, but by VOLUME!!!) in the entire world. CHECK OUT THIS PUPPY:

So Jay and I took the kids for a family vacation to Sequoia National Park. We spent the first night "down the hill" (ie MOUNTAIN, 7000 ft down!) at the Lazy J Ranch Motel, a PERFECT place for a family reunion: it had a playground, a swimming pool, individual cabins (some with kitchens that sleep 8 people!), the Kaweah river next door, the family's animals (for a mini "petting zoo"), tether-and-volleyball and badminton and charcoal barbeques for making dinner outside your cabin (we cooked our Hobo dinners that I'd made up earlier in the day), and a continental breakfast to boot. It was great, reasonably priced, and the kids had a blast...plus it broke up the 5 1/2 hour trip nicely, so they only had to stick out 4 hours in the car.

The next day was perfect; it's about 70 degrees up the mountain, and the kids were wowed by the giant trees. We climbed to the top of Moro Rock (slowly...for our sakes) and Jay made super-delicious bratwursts over a charcoal cook stove. We checked into our room at Wuksachi, the "resort" up there (read: moderate-to-expensively-priced basic hotel) and then went exploring, running into some deer...the kids were thoroughly thrilled. Jason made dinner again (grilled bbq chicken drumsticks, grilled veggies, and roasted red potatoes), and we crashed that night...late. The kids went without a bedtime the entire trip; they just had to go to bed when Mom and Dad did. Surprise, surprise...they LOVED it.

So we also went for a hike around a big, BIG meadow, past some controlled burn areas, to Tharp's Log, a fallen Sequoia that a man with the surname Tharp had once hollowed out and lived in every Summer (with fireplace, bench and table, and bed!) and cooked the requisite hot dogs for lunch, then headed down to the King's River for some rock hopping, butterfly petting (I kid you not!) and fish spotting (meaning "OH, LOOK! THERE'S ONE!"), while Mikayla walked into the river up to her knees...with her pants, socks, and shoes still on.

We had dinner one night at the restaurant (which is incredibly overpriced but very good) and then went out to Sunset Rock (Beetle Rock, according to signs, but Sunset Rock for, well, the Sunset) for...the sunset. Jay and I took turns hiking the kids up and down the rocks and we'd planned to hang out and star gaze once the sun went down...until a mama bear and two cubs sauntered past a hundred or so feet away. Minutes later, a papa bear appeared and then swung around toward the parking area, so we decided it was best NOT to be on the rocks out in the open in the pitch blackness, or trying to find our way back to the car in the dark - flashlights or no (but we DID have them) - with a papa bear around. Jason took Tyler out later for stargazing after we'd returned to the hotel.

All in all it was a wonderful time, and when we were driving back down the mountain and I told the kids to say "Bye, Sequoia!" to the video camera, Mikayla yelled, "No, I don't WANT to!" In other words, we ALL had a GREAT time...and will certainly make that beautiful, peaceful, undertrafficked corner of the world a recurring theme in future Bradshaw family vacations. Enjoy the photos!

TYLER'S IN KINDERGARTEN!!!

2009-08-31T16:19:00.000-07:00

Yes, it's true...my not-quite-5-year-old has begun "formal schooling."

Or as formal as you can get in Anaheim, CA.

See, he's attending the school around the corner (that we SWORE we'd NEVER send him to, and that we'd be LONG GONE from this state before he EVER began Kindergarten!), which started back on the 20th. His teacher WAS Mrs. Henson, and there WERE 38 kids in Tyler's class...until Friday.

Friday afternoon we got a call from the principal; she left a message asking if we were comfortable putting Mr. Man in a different K class, and I had my doubts...until she called this morning before school started to let me know Tyler would be with a Mrs. Forsythe tomorrow for school...and that Mrs. Forsythe's class would have 20 kids instead of 38.

We'll take it.

So as sweet as Mrs. Henson was, tomorrow we're done with her and moving on to greener pastures (read: a much smaller student-teacher ratio).

That said - and my son is a very capable boy, so I'm not at all concerened, but - have y'all heard about the new expectations for a Kindergartener exiting Kindergarten? I remember learning LETTERS in Kindergarten, but know they are expected to PROPERLY write their names (first letter capitalized, following lower-case), sight-read some 30-some words, be able to count to 100, write to 30, add to 20, and subtract from 10, and a whole host of other things (though I hear in most schools - particularly those outside our district - the Kinder expectations are actually MUCH HIGHER).

After the formation of this class, my son will be one of two white kids there each day (and will therefore, Lord willing, grow up racism-free), and will attend school approximately 17 1/2 hours each week. If after the first month, however, I feel like he's not being challenged (ie. he gets BORED) or I find out he's being given a hard time because he's a bit smaller or younger or paler than the other kids, I'm yanking him and we're beginning homeschool. Check back around the end of September for the verdict.

Anyway, Tyler's in, I shed no tears, and I love the stuffing out of our little man (now wearing uniforms, believe it or not!) and am so thankful that my son is still excited to wave to me and give me the ASL sign for "I love you" with his peers around. I'm enjoying it while it lasts. Wish us luck, and enjoy the "Tyler's First Day of Kindergarten" photos!

Celebrating Anniversary # 8

2009-08-30T15:44:00.000-07:00

That's right, 8 years. I could go on and on about what a wonderful hubby my hubby is, how much I love him, or how grateful I am for the past 8 years...but that would be my usual, and we can't have the usual! Suffice it to say my husband is the perfect man FOR ME, and I cannot imagine any part of my life - from the moment he entered it to the end of eternity - without him. That said, we did some serious anniversary celebrating this year! :)

First we spent a weekend in Oxnard, a quiet little beach-and-ag-town just south of Santa Barbara (my folks kept the kids AGAIN, God bless them!) and stayed (thanks to his million Hilton points) at the Embassy Suites beach resort in Oxnard. The had a manager's reception each evening (which supplied the popcorn I fed to the bird on our porch) and a breakfast buffet every morning (which supplied our fuel for the balance of the days' activities), but the best part was our location: Jason has the highest membership status possible with Hilton Honors, so we were instantly upgraded free of charge - on top of our free room! - to their very best category (outside of the presidential suite, yeah, I know)...an oceanfront, first floor walkout. No, seriously. There was NOBODY closer to the ocean than we were, and we left our windows open both nights so the sound of the waves lulled us to sleep. Plus we ate at Capistrano's (their fine dining restaurant) one night, which was delightful/delovely/delicious, and then at a Japanese teppan-style steakhouse the next night, both of them obscenely yummy and romantic and QUIET. Aaaaaaah. The best part of the trip, though, was traversing a farmer's market to reach - here it comes! - the waterside Segway rentals! (You know, those gyro-based standy-uppy-things...) (Note I had to add the part about the farmer's market...oh, and the to-die-for tacos and tostadas at that little stand; if you've been there, you know the one!) The Segways were SOOOOOOOO much fun (and once or twice just a little scary, you're zipping around so quickly!) and not nearly as expensive to rent as I'd feared they would be...and I can honestly say there's nothing like zipping around on a Segway along the beach with your husband (almost) at your side grinning like a skunk. Fabulous. Highly recommended. Highly.

So a few days later was our ACTUAL anniversary, and we spent (an hour of) it in a gondola in Newport Harbor being paddled through the peaceful, sparkling canals just after sunset to the sound of Andrea Bocelli, glasses of sparkling cider in hand, munching on salami, cheese, and bread. (That was a really long sentence.) Our "motor" - Mike the Gondolier - was awesome, and it must take some SERIOUS effort and skill to manuever those puppies, let alone move them steadily along! I wasn't in a position (nor had I the desire) to check out his guns, but I'm guessing he had Schwarzenegger-style biceps. Back to the romantic part, though...I can't explain how awesome it was to be able to sit alongside the love of my life quietly discussing our lives together with the lights from Hoag Hospital (where I delivered our baby girl almost 3 years ago now) reflecting on the black water beneath us as we sipped cider to Con Te Partiro.

Sigh. I love my husband.

Anyway, we closed up the anniversarial activities a few nights later (the only seats we could get!) at Topol's farewell performance (he's going into retirement) of Tevya in Fiddler on the Roof at the OC Performing Arts Center. For those not familiar, Topol is the guy who played Tevya (the lead) in the movie! AND HE'S PHENOMENAL!!!!!!! He really IS Teyva...the ONLY Tevya...and I feel very sorry for anyone who has the misfortune of trying to pick up where he's about to leave off. His performance, even at ALMOST 74 YEARS OLD, left us speechless. Needless to say, the entire Segerstrom Hall gave him a standing ovation, and we're thrilled that we were able to attend and enjoy one of his very last performances before retirement. (In case you were wondering, he sure doesn't look or act 74!)

So our anniversary this year was spread out, fun, and full of festivities that celebrated us as a couple and the things we enjoy, and I loved every random moment of it. A big thank you to my sweet husband for all his planning and effort, but more than that, for being MY Jason. Love you, Jay. Always.

The Rumors are True...

2009-08-30T15:25:00.001-07:00

I'm pulling a Stephanie Meyer, though Lord willing, it won't be so...Stephanie Meyer. I'm writing a book. Three books, really: a trilogy. I'm only partway through chapter nine, but I'm thinking that if I mention it here on the blog, maybe one (or a few) of you will give me grief about my break from writing and encourage me to get back into it so I can finally finish more than just the research. :) So, yes. I'm writing. Thanks for your curiousity (you know who you are) but that's all I'm saying about it for now.

No, that's not true; I'll also say this: It's NOT about vampires. I'm leaving that one to Adrienne, and SHE can rip it up!

Thanks to all those of you who've been so supportive thus far...always great to be able to bounce around ideas!

Aaaah, Summer...and Vacation...and School...and...It's been a while, hasn't it?

2009-08-30T14:41:00.000-07:00

About 6 weeks, to be exact. I'll post a bunch of photos after this entry (when I get around to it...anyone got one? A Round Tuit, that is), but for now, the rundown.

Life has been busy for the Bradshaws these last few weeks:

The kids "graduated" from swim lessons, meaning Tyler can now stick his face (briefly) in the water. That's something, especially compared to the fact that he didn't even want me to WASH his face in the tub before!

We've spent some time with Bridget (and Catherine and Ashleigh) this Summer, the last visit at their house being a chance for the munchkins to splash and play and make mud (sorry, Bridget!) in the adorable inflatable jungle-theme ("with sprayer tunnel and slide!") pool in the Johnson's back yard, as well as a few Disney visits with Bridget's VIP seating at Playhouse Disney! Looking forward to more of that! (Being with Bridget, that is. We're a little Disney'd out for a while!)

Speaking of which, we've been doing Disney...a LOT. Once you pay that initial massive amount for Premium passes, date night is (sorta) free!

Jay finished up in Beverly (thank heavens!) and the Academy Awards audit is (almost) done. I even got to sleep over (in his SUITE, rough life!) and eat with him at LA Food Show one night, thanks to my folks watching the munchkins...

...which munchkins they also watched so BRANDON, who came to visit at the beginning of August, and I could go up to Magic Mountain and scream our lungs out on Tatsu and X2. I hadn't been there since BEFORE I get pregnant with Goo, so Tatsu was new to me, and X2 was new all over again...and honestly the first time in recent history I can remember being nervous to ride a coaster. Oh, and get this: I can ride X2 (thanks, Brandon!) but the teacups make me want to puke. When did THAT happen? Gettin' old, I guess...

Brandon also accompanied us to Disneyland, (don't ask me why I didn't take any pictures when he was here...I suck!) and then again to Disney that same evening with me and Jay to hit up the "big people" rides. Basically, we just had tons of fun with our nephew-and-cousin, and he's TOTALLY invited back next Summer...providing we're still here. (Sigh.)

I had a birthday...31 years, in case you were wondering...and Jason made me this insanely awesome birthday cake...I'm drooling just thinking about it. It was a buttermilk-based chocolate cake FROM SCRATCH with this chocolate ganache homemade icing and a million colorful sprinkles...ooooooooooh, I can't talk about it anymore, or I'm going to go into a chocolate coma...

I got a henna tattoo! (Henna is TEMPORARY, people!) Found a local artist online, went to her place, and sat for 90 minutes while she drew the most awesome art on my upper back...and then, once we'd scraped it off and waited 24 hours, I found out my skin doesn't absorb henna pigment, so you practically couldn't see it. THAT led me to buy black jagua (a South American plant-based pigment) online, and Jason drew some Asian symbols on my back with it. It took beautifully AND looked like a REAL blue-black tattoo, but it took a lot of pigment for not a lot of coverage. So...eh. Not a fan of tats anyway, of course, but it was fun to try out the temp stuff.

Mom and Dad and I took the kids to Oak Glen to go raspberry picking...and Mom and I managed to get all pricked and scratched up - and sweaty and sunburned! - for the priviledge of bringing home 8 cups of fresh, ripe raspberries, which we immediately made into the world's tastiest freezer jam...and ALL of my mom's half is GONE! (We're planning at least one more trip up there before the season ends...with better raspberry-picking attire, trust me!)

We registered Tyler for Kindergarten...in a week! That meant he had to go to the pediatrician for his 5 year checkup...and about a gazillion shots, poor guy, but BOY, was he brave! The tears were more beforehand with the anticipation than because of the myriad jabs...and we're so proud of him!!!

Speaking of doctors, I had an EHE exam (an "executive health exam" provided yearly through Jason's work) and found out that I'm healthy as a horse...except for those joint aches and the night sweats. Cest la vie! (I'm blaming my good health on all the farmer's market food we've been eating, by the way...just check out that dinner! Oven-roasted FM corn, FM heirloom tomato salad with basil from our concrete jungle, and our very own homemade pesto slathered on wild-caught salmon filets...what a meal!)

We have a crazy-growing garden! Yellow pear-shaped cherry tomatoes out the ying-yang (YUM!), chives and green onions galore (although they're on the small and shabby side, I admit, but what can we expect on concrete?), more zucchini and pumpkin flowers than we know what to do with, (no, that's a lie...I stuff them and fry them and eat them. THAT'S what we do with them...ALL...) but no pumpkins or zucchini as yet, unfortunately, and a sunflower that has turned brown and just about died...which means it's going to seed, and any time now we'll have a couple hundred sunflower seeds to roast! Our "real" red tomatoes aren't all that big, (about roma sized, only round,) but they're starting to ripen, and we're super-excited about that! I love growing my own food!!! (And making dinner with the food I grow!)
I have (once again) been released from my calling at church (maybe I haven't been there enough recently, as often as we've been out of town?) and am awaiting another call...but enjoying the lack of responsibility in the meantime. :)

There's tons more, but they will be their own entries, so I'm going to sign off here and work on the next one...and hopefully I'll stay more up-to-date! Cheers!

FIRE ALARM

2009-07-20T22:40:00.000-07:00

I'm laughing so hard I could vomit. Still. 5 minutes later. God Bless Fail Blog. (And yes, that's a Jiffy Pop hanging up near the ceiling in place of a fire alarm, courtesy [originally] of There, I Fixed It dot com.)

And now I need a restroom so I don't pee my pants...

Indeed.

2009-07-20T18:52:00.000-07:00

The original is MUCH cuter, but I can't find a good way to post it online. Anyone interested should email me...Tyler is Buzz, and Mia's a Fairy Princess. Motherhood. Sigh.

Just When We'd Given Up Hope...

2009-07-13T17:56:00.001-07:00

BAM!...tomatoes.

No, we're not moving into a home, or out of state, or even into another new, inevitably and cursedly dinky apartment...yet. But we DO have tomatoes.

Not a proliferation of tomatoes, mind you, thanks to a serious lack in honeybees on concrete, but there ARE tomatoes.

And they're cute.

Yellow teardrop cherry tomatoes, to be exact, although at the moment they're green. And some haven't even gotten big enough to look like teardrops yet.

But others have, and that's what's important!

In other garden news, Mikayla's sunflower is now two feet tall, the zucchini plants are doin' their thang, Tyler's pumpkin plant has a host of male flowers (and even a few female flowers...SLOWLY) coming in, and one has burst into colorful bloom already! (There was a second, but it was starting to whither, so I plucked it off and ate it to see what a pumpkin flower would taste like. And yes, they're edible, just like zucchini flowers, and would be great sauteed with garlic in olive oil or deep fried, stuffed with cream cheese and chives like at Trina's. Yuuuuummm.)

They taste like squash, by the way, but not as intense. Did I say Yuuuummm? 'Cuz I meant to. Oh, wait, I did...twice. Let me say it again: Yuuuummm. Oh, and please excuse the photo in sideways...I know, I know, I just didn't feel like taking the time to reorient the photo. Just turn your head 90 degrees, and bill me for the doctor if you wind up with a kink.

We finally have some (small and wilty-looking) bell pepper plants coming in, and Jason's lettuce has kicked into (well, not really "high") moderate gear. We have RED tomato plants moving slowly on their way, too...not catching up to their yellow counterparts, but holding their own nice and slow. (What do we know about growing stuff? So we should have planted them earlier, so what?) In other words, all is well in our gardening world, and we've even had 5 Basil harvests thus far, the basil plants still going strong!

The shallots failed, by the way, thanks for asking. We were sad. We've replanted the area with lettuce and we're moving on.

So...now you know what I do for half an hour every day...I have no friends here, so I tend to my plants, and they treat me like family...ie, they're gonna feed me, and that makes me love them all the more. You know me and food. Aaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrgggggggggghhhhhhhhhhh.

Speaking of which, did I tell you Jason took me to the Napa Rose? If ever you go, skip everything and order the Seven Sparkling Sins. Not only will you not regret it, you'll never forget it. But bypass dessert. It's sadly "eh."

More detail about the Seven Sparkling Sins to follow. Trust me, it's good. Sooooooooooooo good. Off to fantasize about them now. 'Til tomorrow...

Aaaaah, Mispronunciation...

2009-07-13T07:36:00.000-07:00

Is that even a word? Hey, I'm a Mom with Mommy Brain blogging at 7:37 in the morning. Cut me some slack.

Anyway, we've re-upped our Disney passes, of course, so we're trying to make the most of them...and remembering why we let them expire in the first place. (Jason and I are just not the most social of people...to the point that even being in contact with crowds and waiting in long lines with a multitude of strangers leaves us both a little grumpy. Joy.)

So we took the kids Saturday morning, as we do, and on the way back to the car, we hopped on the giant, endless escalator that takes us up to our area of the parking structure, and Tyler was all excited to hop on that escuvator all by himself.

I'm sorry, Tyler, honey, what did you say?

I want to get on the escuvator all by myself.

On the what?

The Es-Coo-Vator.

Oh. (Trying to hide my smug "My Kid is So Cute" smile.) Okay, then, I promise I won't try to help.

No, I didn't correct him. He'll learn soon enough what the blasted thing is really called, but in the meantime I'm going to enjoy how cute it sounds to hear my four year-old call an escalator an escuvator. And breakfast "brekdast."

Because I already miss Dar Beeder. Worse than that, I miss Bee-Dah.

Man, they grow up quick...

It's only been three weeks, so here are the highlights:

2009-07-10T08:44:00.001-07:00

1. Arizona was hot (like the fires of hell and damnation), but we had a GREAT time with family and friends.
a) We hit up the ostrich farm again with Mom and Dad, Jewels and Roo...
b) We played with Treen and Zac and Jewels and Roo at the Phoenix Farmer's Market (come on, what ELSE would I do on vacation?!) and hooked ourselves up with some seriously yummy grub...
c) We laid by the pool (or swam in it) and downed Chicago-style dogs at Wendy's mom's clubhouse where we met up with just about every family member under the sun (still missing Nik!)...
d) Jess threatened Jared's life...(mostly in jest, and he knows why...)
e) We visited Kim & Bella in their lovely new home (and Kathy in hers!) and salivated over the price of an apt the same size as ours for half the number of people...
f) We played (and played catch-up!) with Audrey and her munchkins at their place for far longer than we'd planned, each moment a laugh and passing all too quickly...
g) We ate at Pete's. Eat there. You'll understand.
h) The Bradshaws surprised us with a giant 4-layer, chocolate-frosted Wendy-creation cake (watch that girl BAKE!) for an early celebration of Jessica's birthday.

2. We returned home to our crazy over-grown tomato plants...and pruned. We were worried that they'd never produce and never recover, but we've already got about 18 tomatoes coming in...amongst 10 veritable tomato TREES...making them quite feasibly the most expensive yellow cherry tomatoes EVER...oh, and our zucchini and pumpkin plants are going NUTS!

3. We missed out on Ashleigh's baby blessing (sorry!) but congratulate Bridget and Dan (and Katherine!) on a beautiful, sweet baby girl, whose birth announcement we have sitting on our living room 'cuz she's just that adorable.

4. Kim has returned to California!!!!!!!...for a few days. (Her brother's wife is having a baby shower.) We, of course, realize that we miss her tons when we see her...but we're making the most of the couple days she's here and we're thrilled for her that she's so excited to go home (not that we want her to)!

5. We're mourning the loss of Michael Jackson...but not because we loved him. Instead, we can't WAIT until people shut UP about him, and we're wishing he hadn't died just so we could stop hearing about him on the radio...tv...on the net...on people's t-shirts at Disney...UGH. Come on, people. You haven't wanted anything to do with that creepy once-black almost-destitute man since the early '90's...why are you suddenly mourning him like he was a family member and letting the city of LA spent a couple million bidding him a ridiculous farewell? (Stepping off my soapbox now...)

6. My hair is darker and re-layered...and I love it. ROMAN ROCKS. Let me know if you need a SPECTACULAR stylist...he's the BEST!

7. We're in SWIM LESSONS! (Yes, we're...Tyler has his class, but Mikayla's class involves Mommy participation, so we're ALL in swim lessons!) You know...it's amazing how a mom can get everything in the world done in a day and THEN spend 3 hours watching a Masterpiece Theater/BBC production, and STILL not have time to shower after a swim-lesson-chlorine-dousing. We'll see how long my hair stays dark...(and if anyone says anything to me about priorities...I'll let you borrow Cranford. You try walking away from Judy Dench on the television to take a shower!)

What else, what else, what else...? Mmmmmmmmmmmmm...I guess that's all for now! Everything else has been laundry this and grocery shopping that (you know how it is when you return from "vacation"...) so I think I'm going to go take a shower...in time to get back in the pool for swim lessons, and then to head to the pool with Kim and Bella. Aaaaaah, Summer.

OH! 8! Brandon is coming out to visit us the first week in August, and the kids are quivering with excitement! More on that one AFTER the fact, but suffice it to say...that's gonna be ONE FUN VISIT! (We're already planning Disney, the beach, and a Six Flags venture...WOOHOO!)

Okay, so now THAT'S it.

Will post again when I have a new canvas painted or another chapter to my book...so I'd better get on it! Love to all, and thanks for the catch-up!

Addendum to Below...

2009-06-22T14:57:00.000-07:00

So, I up and tried my hand at oils again while Goo was napping, and I think I did a little better this time...both were more like what I was thinking. For those in the book-know, she's the dark and he's the blue-green...obviously. Just wanted to share. (Cory, I know it's NOTHING like what you do, but honestly? I'm just a little impressed with myself! Now I know how you must feel...like THE woman!)

On Icing Buckets, Oil Paintings, and Disneyland Passes

2009-06-22T13:05:00.000-07:00

I'll try to be brief covering all the above-listed topics, but you know me...brevity doesn't come naturally.

Anyway, here goes: My folks, seeing our crazy urban-garden-loving backyard, bought us a book on Square Foot Gardening...and it rocks. It suggested also planting in buckets, and we thought we were so clever, spending $2.78/5 gallon Home Depot bucket...until it recommended stopping by our local bakery and asking for their empty icing food-grade plastic buckets. Uh...we can do that? So we hit up Food 4 Less, Costco, and Vons this weekend, and scored no less than 10 buckets! (Believe it or not, Costco offered us ONE...Vons gave us two - AND steam-cleaned them for me!!! - and Food 4 Less coughed up FOUR icing buckets and THREE MORE Crema Mexicana buckets!!!) ALL FOR FREE!!! Bye, bye, $2.78/bucket! We're gonna be planting in food-grade plastics! (Yeah, yeah, I know...but we're excited.) I mean, take a look at how these tomato plants GROW in buckets! Scroll back a few entries and compare our tomato plants...a couple weeks ago they were healthy, but now they're out of control!!! They've even got blooming flowers where shortly beautiful yellow cherry tomatoes will be sprouting! HOW STOKED AM I?!?!?! (Remember people, we're talking ME and FOOD...and creating my OWN food. This is a DREAM!)

Jason bought me an oil paint set at Christmas, and I've been trying to get up the courage to suck at oil painting...so I just busted 'em out and painted last night. It's abstract, yes, and it's also a test...but for those of you already aware, I'm trying to write a book, and it's exactly where one of the characters IS right now, so...yeah. I won't say I'm super-proud of it or anything, but...I did that. So. Yeah.

So Jason and I got back our Disneyland passes. Yes, it's true, we caved...and now we can go any day, anytime, all the time. Why, you ask, would we blow so much money (plus upgrade Tyler's pass to premium, too)? Well, a few reasons: It kills us when family comes into town and we CAN'T just bomb off to Disney with them...that we don't have free parking to help them drop cars in the lot...that we don't have the 15% food discount or 10% merchandise discount (for them OR us, considering how much we love Steakhouse 55 but can't afford their prices, and this is just the bump we need to enjoy our potato stacks and seven onion soups)...you name it. Plus, now we have a (paid once, now free) date night activity, and we can take the kids every Saturday morning like we used to...only now we're diaper-bag-free and our kids will actually REMEMBER going! (Okay, at least Tyler will!)

In other words...if you have a Disneyland pass or are planning to hit up the park anytime soon, PLEASE LET ME KNOW!!! We'd love to go with you, or hook you up somehow...after all, we live 5 minutes from the park in heavy traffic!

SINCE we have Disney passes, what did we do for date night Saturday? You guessed it. It was fun, of course, and we did Space Mountain and Soarin' Over CA, but then we decided to head out, and I've just gotta tell you what happened.

So we get on the tram to head, and get around that first bend to go back to the structure, when the tram DIES. So another tram swings around the corner and parks next to us so we can transfer to a working tram, no problem. We're about to go when we hear some women behind us screaming at each other, and a Disney tram dude flipping out. To top it off, he was very gay and had a major lisp (why on earth would you want to adopt a stereotype like that, really?) and half-running along the tram toward the front yelling "Call Security!" Suddenly everyone wants to know what's going on, we're all stuck there waiting for security to show, and the tram behind us and the tram behind them are stopped dead waiting for either our tram or the dead tram to get the heck out of the way.

In other words, ain't nobody goin' nowhere.

So we're hearing women yelling at each other about "assault" and "pressing charges" and thinking WHAT THE HECK!??! Security shows up...followed by no less than SIX police officers (the Downtown Disney cops, no doubt) and another half-dozen Disney employees, and three women get off the tram to kavetch to the officers and offer "their side" of the story, with one of the women's FOUR children getting off 10 minutes later. It's was close to half an hour from the time our original tram tried to leave until we finally were on our way to the parking structure.

So here's what I deduced: A & B were sisters; A had a newborn in arms. C had her four kids. During the tram swap, A was trying to move to the next tram, C was helping her kids on, and A, a very large, portly (read: grossly obese) woman was attempting to shield her baby from the commotion of a slew of kids and adults trying to switch trams. C accused A of "bumping" her, so C bumped back. B stepped in to bump C for bumping A, who was "just trying to protect her baby", so C bumped B, who bumped C back, and then C took things up a notch: she PINCHED B...HARD on the arm. I mean, instant black-and-blue welt-hard. Unreal. So then the screaming, the accusations, the crazy Disney employee stepping in, and basically just complete chaos...plus three or four white trash individuals loudly expressing their intellectually-challenged opinions to add to the insanity.

Did I mention these women were all well into their 40's and 50's?

The saddest part to me was watching those four little kids, all under 8 if a day, disembark from the tram to stand by their mother (C, the pincher) who was being questioned by police. Happiest place on Earth, right? Yeah, it might've been, if their Mom could've only recognized A as a human being trying to care for her baby.

Can I get a YIKES?

Anyway...if you want to grow tomato plants in buckets, go to Food 4 Less. If you want to learn to Oil Paint, talk to somebody else, like my friend Cory, who is not only able, she's GOOD. If you want to go to Disneyland, LET US KNOW!

And for anything else, well, we're leaving for AZ tomorrow, so don't expect much! Sayonara, and I'll be posting again come next week!

HAPPY FATHER'S DAY!!!

2009-06-21T09:09:00.001-07:00

To my Three Favorite Dads:

My Sweet Husband.

My Wonderful Dad.

My Terrific Inherited Dad.

I love you all. Have a fabulous Father's Day!

Attention, Arizonans!

2009-06-19T08:05:00.001-07:00

We will be in town next week! We should be in by early evening on Tuesday, and we'll be leaving probably mid-morning or late evening on Sunday, depending on what Jay might have for work the following week. I don't know what everyone's schedule looks like these days, but we'll be around! Love to all, and maybe see you next week?

It's a Little Long, but Right on the Mark

2009-06-18T08:53:00.000-07:00

Got this from a Tea Party friend. I don't necessarily agree with EVERY word, but...it's still right on the mark, and sums up almost exactly what I'm feeling. If you're tired of politics - we all are - or not up for a long read today, just skip it. Otherwise, enjoy! PS...it contains a few typos...not mine.

I'm a home grown American citizen, 53, registered Democrat all my life. Before the last presidential election I registered as a Republican because I no longer felt the Democratic Party represents my views or works to pursue issues important to me. Now I no longer feel the Republican Party represents my views or works to pursue issues important to me. The fact is I no longer feel any political party or representative in Washington represents my views or works to pursue the issues important to me. There must be someone. Please tell me who you are. Please stand up and tell me that you are there and that you're willing to fight for our Constitution as it was written. Please stand up now. You might ask yourself what my views and issues are that I would horribly feel so disenfranchised by both major political parties. What kind of nut job am I? Will you please tell me?

Well, these are briefly my views and issues for which I seek representation:

One, illegal immigration. I want you to stop coddling illegal immigrants and secure our borders. Close the underground tunnels. Stop the violence and the trafficking in drugs and people. No amnesty, not again. Been there, done that, no resolution. P.S., I'm not a racist. This isn't to be confused with legal immigration.

Two, the TARP bill, I want it repealed and I want no further funding supplied to it. We told you no, but you did it anyway. I want the remaining unfunded 95% repealed. Freeze, repeal.

Three: Czars, I want the circumvention of our checks and balances stopped immediately. Fire the czars. No more czars. Government officials answer to the process, not to the president. Stop trampling on our Constitution and honor it.

Four, cap and trade. The debate on global warming is not over. There is more to say.

Five, universal healthcare. I will not be rushed into another expensive decision. Don't you dare try to pass this in the middle of the night and then go on break. Slow down!

Six, growing government control. I want states rights and sovereignty fully restored. I want less government in my life, not more. Shrink it down. Mind your own business. You have enough to take care of with your real obligations. Why don't you start there?
Seven, ACORN. I do not want ACORN and its affiliates in charge of our 2010 census. I want them investigated. I also do not want mandatory escrow fees contributed to them every time on every real estate deal that closes. Stop the funding to ACORN and its affiliates pending impartial audits and investigations. I do not trust them with taking the census over with our taxpayer money. I don't trust them with our taxpayer money. Face up to the allegations against them and get it resolved before taxpayers get any more involved with them. If it walks like a duck and talks like a duck, hello. Stop protecting your political buddies. You work for us, the people. Investigate.

Eight, redistribution of wealth. No, no, no. I work for my money. It is mine. I have always worked for people with more money than I have because they gave me jobs. That is the only redistribution of wealth that I will support. I never got a job from a poor person. Why do you want me to hate my employers? Why ‑‑ what do you have against shareholders making a profit?

Nine, charitable contributions. Although I never got a job from a poor person, I have helped many in need. Charity belongs in our local communities, where we know our needs best and can use our local talent and our local resources. Butt out, please. We want to do it ourselves.

Ten, corporate bailouts. Knock it off. Sink or swim like the rest of us. If there are hard times ahead, we'll be better off just getting into it and letting the strong survive. Quick and painful. Have you ever ripped off a Band‑Aid? We will pull together. Great things happen in America under great hardship. Give us the chance to innovate. We cannot disappoint you more than you have disappointed us.

Eleven, transparency and accountability. How about it? No, really, how about it? Let's have it. Let's say we give the buzzwords a rest and have some straight honest talk. Please try ‑‑ please stop manipulating and trying to appease me with clever wording. I am not the idiot you obviously take me for. Stop sneaking around and meeting in back rooms making deals with your friends. It will only be a prelude to your criminal investigation. Stop hiding things from me.

Twelve, unprecedented quick spending. Stop it now.

Take a breath. Listen to the people. Let's just slow down and get some input from some nonpoliticians on the subject. Stop making everything an emergency. Stop speed reading our bills into law. I am not an activist. I am not a community organizer. Nor am I a terrorist, a militant or a violent person. I am a parent and a grandparent. I work. I'm busy. I'm busy. I am busy, and I am tired. I thought we elected competent people to take care of the business of government so that we could work, raise our families, pay our bills, have a little recreation, complain about taxes, endure our hardships, pursue our personal goals, cut our lawn, wash our cars on the weekends and be responsible contributing members of society and teach our children to be the same all while living in the home of the free and land of the brave.

I entrusted you with upholding the Constitution. I believed in the checks and balances to keep from getting far off course. What happened? You are very far off course. Do you really think I find humor in the hiring of a speed reader to unintelligently ramble all through a bill that you signed into law without knowing what it contained? I do not. It is a mockery of the responsibility I have entrusted to you. It is a slap in the face. I am not laughing at your arrogance. Why is it that I feel as if you would not trust me to make a single decision about my own life and how I would live it but you should expect that I should trust you with the debt that you have laid on all of us and our children. We did not want the TARP bill. We said no. We would repeal it if we could. I am sure that we still cannot. There is such urgency and recklessness in all of the recent spending.

From my perspective, it seems that all of you have gone insane. I also know that I am far from alone in these feelings. Do you honestly feel that your current pursuits have merit to patriotic Americans? We want it to stop. We want to put the brakes on everything that is being rushed by us and forced upon us. We want our voice back. You have forced us to put our lives on hold to straighten out the mess that you are making. We will have to give up our vacations, our time spent with our children, any relaxation time we may have had and money we cannot afford to spend on you to bring our concerns to Washington. Our president often knows all the right buzzword is unsustainable. Well, no kidding. How many tens of thousands of dollars did the focus group cost to come up with that word? We don't want your overpriced words. Stop treating us like we're morons.

We want all of you to stop focusing on your reelection and do the job we want done, not the job you want done or the job your party wants done. You work for us and at this rate I guarantee you not for long because we are coming. We will be heard and we will be represented. You think we're so busy with our lives that we will never come for you? We are the formerly silent majority, all of us who quietly work , pay taxes, obey the law, vote, save money, keep our noses to the grindstone and we are now looking up at you. You have awakened us, the patriotic spirit so strong and so powerful that it had been sleeping too long. You have pushed us too far. Our numbers are great. They may surprise you. For every one of us who will be there, there will be hundreds more that could not come. Unlike you, we have their trust. We will represent them honestly, rest assured. They will be at the polls on voting day to usher you out of office. We have cancelled vacations. We will use our last few dollars saved. We will find the representation among us and a grassroots campaign will flourish. We didn't ask for this fight. But the gloves are coming off. We do not come in violence, but we are angry. You will represent us or you will be replaced with someone who will. There are candidates among us when hewill rise like a Phoenix from the ashes that you have made of our constitution.

Democrat, Republican, independent, libertarian. Understand this. We don't care. Political parties are meaningless to us. Patriotic Americans are willing to do right by us and our Constitution and that is all that matters to us now. We are going to fire all of you who abuse power and seek more. It is not your power. It is ours and we want it back. We entrusted you with it and you abused it. You are dishonorable. You are dishonest. As Americans we are ashamed of you. You have brought shame to us. If you are not representing the wants and needs of your constituency loudly and consistently, in spite of the objections of your party, you will be fired. Did you hear? We no longer care about your political parties. You need to be loyal to us, not to them. Because we will get you fired and they will not save you. If you do or can represent me, my issues, my views, please stand up. Make your identity known. You need to make some noise about it. Speak up. I need to know who you are. If you do not speak up, you will be herded out with the rest of the sheep and we will replace the whole damn congress if need be one by one. We are coming. Are we coming for you?

Who do you represent? What do you represent? Listen. Because we are coming. We the people are coming.

Janet Contreras
Arizona

Another Epiphany

2009-06-16T14:31:00.000-07:00

I realized why it is that I very seldom (if ever) wind up embarrassed: In order to be embarrassed, you have to CARE what other people think, and nine times out of ten (or more) I, well, don't. CASE IN POINT:

Went to the mall today to have pictures taken on the munchkins...always an UN-fun affair. "Don't touch that, get off the floor, keep your clothes clean, no you can't have juice right now, smile, smile, SMILE!" and so on...fabulous. But I had to stop and pick up some tomato cages for our Urban Homestead on the way, and aside from telling the kids 50,000 times not to touch the cages because they'd get their hands and clothes dirty, I ALSO had to tell Tyler to sit down in the back of the cart 50,000 to ensure he wouldn't end up on his head on the concrete in the garden area of Lowes. We were checking out, which, of course, is when my son knew my attention would be directed elsewhere, so he was once again up on the edge of the cart and toppled back a couple inches so he was hanging off, the cart side caught under his knees and his hands gripping the side. The checker-chick panicked and carefully pulled him back up, then turned to me like I was the world's worst mother and said "He really must stay seated in the cart if you're going to let him ride!"

Ya think? Furthermore, honey, you're not his mom and obviously haven't heard me telling him every other second for the last 10 minutes to sit down, and rest assured that if he did fall out and land on his head, not only would I NOT sue Lowes, I'd spend every other second on the way to the hospital telling him "I told you so" just by looking at him. So don't expect me to be all embarrassed and stare at the floor and shuffle my feet and apologize for not tending to my own child...no embarrassment here.

THEN...we had the photos done (and I know the kids were grumpy; we got there 20 minutes before our appt and I actually had to threaten to leave because it was half an hour PAST our appt by the time they got to us!), we waited another 15 minutes to be able to view them, and then another 10 minutes to have them printed...and it was time to leave. The kids had been great, it's true...they'd been patient, listened, laughed, been obedient...and they'd also been rewarded. We had snacks and drinks and rode up and down the in glass elevator about a dozen times, they played with the games and toys inside the photo studio...they were covered. So when we left, I expected moderate-to-polite behavior, and instead ended up with a crazy son streaking on ahead, refusing to stay with me and Miagee, and being totally defiant when I ordered him to return to my side because his running off worried me. So I grabbed him by the arm and walked him along with me. He will not bruise, he was in no pain...just disgruntled by my power position, and so he did what he could: had a total screaming, shrieking, girlie-yowling meltdown. Aaaaaaaah, kids.

So I kept walking, not even thinking about the people openly staring at me. So what? If they've had kids, they get it, and if they haven't, they'll NEVER get it. I confess, when he threw himself down on the floor in Nordstroms kicking and screaming "NO!" and "OWWWW!" at the top of his lungs, I yanked him up off the floor, caught him in midair, and carried him by the waist out of the door to the car...and wondered briefly if anyone priviledged to catch my manuver would call the police (or at least mall security) thinking I was abusing my child...but we made it to the car without incident, so...whatever.

Other than that fleeting "is someone going to call the authorities?" thought, I really truly felt no embarrassment, nor any need to apologize for him overly tired and grumpy son. Cest la vie. Doesn't make me a bad mom, so why bother being embarrassed? Perhaps if I was indeed a wretched hag of a mother, I'd feel some mortification at my son's obnoxiousness...or maybe if I was a wretched hag I wouldn't. Regardless, I'm not (usually), and my son isn't (usually) obnoxious.

So I know why it is I seldom get embarrassed!

But if I, I don't know, cut off my mom on the freeway on my way home from somewhere and didn't realize it was her until too late...THEN I might be embarrassed. (I haven't done that, by the way.) For me, it's all a matter of the action (is it truly embarrassing?) combined with the witness (are they really important to me?). In other words, if I ever tell you I'm embarrassed by you seeing/knowing/hearing something about me, it must me I care about what you think.

Maybe I shouldn't have told you this. Huh. Did I mention I'm also the type to speak before I think? Sigh. Have a great Tuesday, all!

Wong Street in Riverside

2009-06-12T13:18:00.001-07:00

So, it seems that the powers that be in Riverside have changed a street name in their Chinatown as of today: "Wong Way" is now "Wong Street".

There are so many things I can say to this, but the first one is the MOST obvious, incredulous, and a question, to boot: Someone named a street "Wong Way" in the first place?!?!?!

What makes it funnier is that naming a street "Wong" was supposed to be to HONOR a local member of the Riversidian Chinese Community. Instead, according to the news, "Members of the Chinese community felt insulted by the street name, citing that people might take it as a joke about the way members of their community pronounce certain words."

Wow, I thought the joke was pretty much that you were going the "wong way", but the fact that people are feeling personally insulted due to their culturally-affected pronounciation of "wrong"? For some reason, that really just makes it funnier, because that idea really hadn't occured to me when I first heard "Wong Way." I actually laughed out loud listening to the radio in the car. Wong Way is mostly just an eye-roller, but a group of angry Asians thinking Wong Way is an INSULT because they pronounce Wrong "Wong"?

Sometimes it amazes me - and this is really why I'm laughing - that your average Jane (me, in this case) doesn't find something bigoted until someone points out that its bigoted, and that it is something to find offensive. Then I just think it-and-they're ridiculous. But funny.

So Wong Way is now Wong Street in Riverside. First you were supposed to go the other direction, and now you're just not supposed to drive on it at all. What's the world coming to?

Urban Homesteading and Going Green(er)

2009-06-08T11:16:00.000-07:00

First off, if you live in Anaheim, you MUST call this guy: Noe ("Noh-eeeee") Tafolla with Anaheim Utilities Advantage Services. His number is 714-939-9020. Why, you ask? Because for Cinco de Mayo this year when I took the kids to that fiesta on La Palma, I stopped at the Anaheim Utilities booth and found out about this program the city has going: Make an appt for one of their reps (Noe for us) to come to your home (or apartment!), and they will spend about an hour with you reviewing your utilities usage to tell you how to cut back on your usage and your SPENDING, PLUS give you aids to do it...

For instance, with the exception of the tube lighting in the kitchen and a few lights where we needed smaller bulbs, ALL the light bulbs in my home are now the low-watt-using coil lights - free of charge! - I now have water-saving devices on both bathroom sinks and a saver/sprayer/quick-off-for-dish-washing device on my kitchen sink - FOR FREE! - and two brand new low-flow showerheads installed and in use in my bathrooms - TOTALLY free! Plus a couple weeks from now I'll be mailed a full report on how to lower my utility usage point by point and step by step, and I have all the info I need about other rebates and programs the city offers; unfortunately, since I'm not a homeowner, I can't really use them, but they include things like rebates for low-flow toilets/washers and dryers/fridges/ceiling fans/dishwashers/YOU NAME IT!

I know what you're thinking, I was thinking it to and I asked for you: Why on earth would the city of Anaheim want to HELP people use LESS of their utilities, thereby DENYING themselves the extra income??? Turns out if Anaheim overuses utilities and can't produce enough to keep up with their residents' usage, they actually LOSE money because they have to then turn around and buy the extra energy off Edison for a higher rate...so the closer they are to selling only the amount of utilities they can produce, the higher their profits. Having to power Disney keeps them from hiking their rates, so they can't make extra $ that way...better to help residents use the proper billable amount. Tada! Free program!!! Loooooove it! I'm greener AND I'm saving money! (And isn't that the best part?)

Speaking of going green(er) and saving money, Kim introduced me a few months ago to those green veggie bags you see on TV...and I confess, I doubted. I doubted, that was, UNTIL I started storing my mushrooms in them. One time around was all it took. You see, I LOVE mushrooms...but often find myself buying them, forgetting about them, and tossing them since they get all nasty and slimy in 3 or 4 days. NO LONGER. As long as I wipe out the condensation inside the green bag every few days now, they last FOREVER! (Okay, my record is 3 1/2 weeks, but that's because then I used them because they looked like they were JUST starting to go.) Witness the photos herein; I bought these mushrooms fully 11 days ago, and they're PERFECT. But it's not just mushrooms, it's all my produce, and so now I won't have to throw away the head of Romaine I forgot about in the bottom of the bin, or the brussels sprouts I keep intending to serve with dinner but don't have a husband around to serve them to. They're BRILLIANT. Thanks, Kim. I believe...

Then there's Urban Homesteading, one of those uber-hip catch-phrases that might make you scratch your head...if it weren't so obvious. We live in a concrete jungle stacked on top of ourselves and others, and as Urbanites, we're still attempting Self-Sufficiency...by turning our back "yard" into a Garden! Go, Urban Homesteading! And what's MOST amazing to us is...we actually seem to be succeeding! We put seeds in dirt in pots and watered it, and things are GROWING!!! My friend Natasha is a master gardener and would probably snicker at our amazement, but let me tell you, my friends...growing Tomatoes, Shallots, Basil, Green Onions, Chives, Zucchini, Pumpkin, Sunflowers, Bell Peppers, and Lettuce on a 10x10 concrete balcony seems like a MIRACLE to us! (I also have some roses, courtesy of Kim and Kathy and Bella, and believe it or not, you three, they're still thriving!) When Kim moved she "donated" her two window boxes to us, and we planted. We bought $1 tin pots from Target, punches holes in the bottom for drainage with a hammer and flathead screw driver, and we planted. Jason won (don't ask) 3 indoor trees from work which we uprooted, refilled the pots with soil, and we planted. We bought big orange Home Depot 5 gallon multipurpose buckets, Jason drilled holes in the bottom, and we planted. And believe it or not, STUFF IS GROWING!!!

The most amazing thing to us, of course, are the tomato plants. Do you see those little silvery tin buckets? ONE of them was a proving ground for me...I experimented, poking tons of crazy chopstick holes all over the dirt, tossing 3 (or 4 or 5!) seeds in each hole, covering them over, and watering them...and now we have FORTY-FIVE TOMATO PLANTS!!! Yes, they ALL grew. Like WEEDS. After 2 or 3 weeks, we had to transplant them...and a couple weeks later, they've had to be transplanted AGAIN! We had SO MANY tomato plants, in fact, that we took 5 groups (of 3 - 5 seedlings each!!!) to my folks' yesterday evening and transplanted them THERE! (We only have room and funds for so many transplant buckets!) We're still in shock...and excited as all get-out.

Growing stuff is AWESOME. Even if everything suddenly DIES, we'll just try again, learn from our experiments, and keep growing! (I imagine, however, that at least a couple of those plants will produce...and I'm STOKED!) So I have something to be excited about again...and since I'm putting off painting and writing for no good reason, this is one I HAVE to stick with, and it's good for me, and I'm enjoying it.

But I'm NOT enjoying the manure-stinky soil stuck underneath my fingernails, so if anyone has any ideas - other than cutting all my nails off, that is - let me know. Nail brushes just ain't cuttin' it. Oh, and my patio stinks like cow poo. Yeah, that sucks too. But we have tomato plants! I'm over it!

The Face of the Earth

2009-05-29T08:11:00.001-07:00

We are still on it. Just thought I should mention that.

It's been busy lately; this last week-plus has included a FULL day with Kim and the kids at Disney (courtesy of Kim's neighbor, who works there and signed us in!), Jason on business first in Chicago and then in Phoenix - in the same week! - a farewell girls' night for Kim, a full-day Saturday family project to attempt to transplant some sturdy tomato seedlings (proven semi-successful so far...we'll see!), three movies (thanks to M&D and Kim watching our kids on two seperate occasions) - Earth, Angels and Demons, and Star Trek, (we haven't seen this many movies within this amount of time in...YEARS!) a YM/YW activity at our place as part of Iron Chef, with special ingredient Corn Flakes, (our team won!) our final week of watching Bella, a crazy search for a three bedroom apartment in OC (and we've found a few possibilities...for only $1750.00 a month!), and finally, the packing-in-preparation-for-leaving of Kim's apartment.

In other words, there's been very little to really discuss on the blog, but no time for discussing.

And with that, now that everyone knows I'm still alive, I'm signing off to go get the kids ready to take them to hang out with Kim and Bella on their last day here. Have a great weekend, all...

Because I Can...

2009-05-20T21:39:00.000-07:00

Click the link to check out a map I made with Google Maps of all the hits I've had around the world on my blog. Not that I think I'm all that - by any stretch - I'm just super-excited at all the places to which my little self has at some point connected. Find you!

http://maps.google.com/maps/ms?hl=en&ie=UTF8&msa=0&msid=112109894296713149823.00046a5e1e45dd656f1e7&ll=38.272689,5.976563&spn=132.265051,360&z=2

Yup

2009-05-19T10:12:00.000-07:00

Cleaning out my wallet today, I found an old fortune from a fortune cookie...and it's totally a backhanded compliment sort of thing, if you read it in the wrong (or right?) light:

You are a person of imaginative, yet honest, intentions.

Huh.

Yeah, well, I guess that in some circumstances, that's pretty spot-on. I'd like to think I'm imaginative and have honest intentions, but I'm willing to admit to myself that sometimes my intentions are imaginative. Never really thought of it that way, though...'til now.

Have a great Tuesday, everyone, and Happy Birthday to my Lil' Sis, Kate! Love you, lady!

Jason's 32nd Birthday

2009-05-15T15:41:00.000-07:00

Yup, he's old. Waaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyy older than I am...by, like, two YEARS. (I only get to do the "two year" thing for two and a half month each year, so I'm living it up.)

So Jay turned 32...a week ago. Lots been happenin' since then, but here's the skinny on his birthday unbash.

My folks kept Ty & Mia overnight Thursday and Friday, and Jay and I hopped in the car Thursday evening and headed out to Temecula, where we checked into the Embassy Suites thanks to some of Jason's Hilton points. Love that he's a diamond member...instant upgrade to one of their executive suites, and they did EVERYTHING they could to meet his requests, like being on a low floor (2nd) and being as far from the elevators as possible (other end of the hall). When I mentioned in making the reservations that it was his birthday and he was a diamond member, they went all out: in our room were two glasses from a local winery, a bottle of sparkling cider, a dozen chocolate-dipped strawberries, and some mints, all with a birthday card for him from Hilton! Plus, ES has a free made-to-order breakfast each morning, so we each had an omelet and picked a few other things from the spread. YUMMY. The night we checked in, however, we were famished, and decided to head to Old Town Temecula to find a restaurant. We wound up at Baily's, a place we'd originally considered for Jay's birthday dinner, and had a great time feasting in the quiet atmosphere where the food was good, the portion size was excellent, the prices weren't too bad, and even though Jason's food order got screwed up and sent to another table making him wait longer, they brought him a different entree "to snack on" while they made his, which they then brought out to him, PLUS they brought him a complimentary dessert AND they struck his entree from the bill! Baily's knows how to correct a gaffe!

The next morning we headed into Wine Country for our own tour, explored a pretty little area called Lake Skinner and its surrounding camping areas, stopped at Thornton Winery for some tasty vittles (since we don't drink, we were relegated to food...which is never a bad thing!) including some garlic-oil cold-poached shrimp, a housemade salumi flatbread pizza, and some herb-marinated goat cheese, among other yummies, and got to explore their facilities a bit. (We'd be to Ponte Winery for Ira and Kerry's wedding a year or so back, but we were really glad to get to explore the vineyards in daylight a little better. WAAAAAYYYY pretty.) I confess, I still don't "get" wine - and my mother would be ashamed, if it weren't for the fact that SHE'S now Mormon - but I DO get grape juice, and I totally get long lines of grapes growing on vines. Neat stuff, people! So then it was back to Old Town to check out some of the stores there. The Cheese Shop was a total disappointment, which makes me sad, but there was also the Temecula Olive Oil Company, and OH MY GOODNESS!!! We may not be "allowed" to participate in a wine tasting, but we CERTAINLY enjoyed the olive oil (and vinegar) tasting! I never imagined that blood orange olive oil with vanilla and fig balsamic vinegar could taste like salad dressing HEAVEN, but next time we have a bit of cash to part with, I'm hopping online to their site and buying both types! (We picked up some Roasted Garlic EVOO...ask Kim, it's goooooooooood!)

From there (this ACTUALLY being Jason's birthday) we headed to Fallbrook, 20 min or so south on the 15. We stayed at the Oak Creek Manor B&B, (look them up!) and had an awesome experience there...partially because the Manor was EXQUISITE, and partially because we were the only guests staying inside the mansion! (There was another couple there, too, but they were outside in the carriage house.) This place was crazy, people. Awesome, but crazy-awesome.

For instance, you enter a big gate, and drive around a circular driveway (circling a fountain!) to park in front of this Manor that looks like Monticello! Inside the entry there's a table with a tea set, and to the left, a hallway to the breakfast room. Straight ahead is a parlor with a wet bar, a chess set, a fireplace, etc, and farther beyond is the hallway that leads to two double doors: our suite. 12' ceilings, 2 large columns, a CA King-sized fourposter bed, a fireplace with chair and ottoman, a breakfasting table, and a marble bathroom with double sinks, a vanity area, uber-plush robes, a 2-headed shower, and a 2-person jetted tub! The room also has a ceiling fan, two more sets of double doors leading to a fountained patio and to an outdoor breakfasting table, a flat-screened TV up above the suite doors for in-bed viewing, and the entire room is wired - along with the rest of the house - for house-wide surround sound with XM radio piped in! We could listen to XM in the tub at a volume we chose using our TV to set it up! The bed was SUPER-plush, and it was quieter than, well, anywhere I've been in, I don't know, months and months. Looooooooved it!

That night we went to Pala Casino for dinner at the Oak Room, where, for the first time, I had Buffalo. Jason had his traditional prime rib, but because it was cut from the animals grass fed on Indian land, he said it was the tastiest, tenderest, best prime rib he'd ever had...and soups, sides, and desserts weren't bad, either. (That was sarcasm. YUM.) We'd budgeted $20 for entertainment, so we played slots for a while (which inevitably meant we sucked for a few minutes while we tried to figure out what the heck we were doing!) and eventually we were actually UP...by...50 cents. Jason wanted to try his hand at blackjack, so I stood by and watched him play (trying to figure out what he was doing) for a while, and when we were down to $5.50 remaining, we cut our losses, shrugging at the $15 we'd "devoted" to 3 hours worth of entertainment, (less than a movie, and we got to interact a whole lot more!) and headed back to the Manor, where we had both a house/room key and a gate clicker, chocolates on our re-made and turned-down bed...and the house to ourselves. I got to wander around the house that night after a bath in my big fluffy robe and slippers, grabbing a couple glasses of lemon ice water from the wet bar without bumping into a single soul in the house. AWESOME.

The next morning I went out at took the photos you see herein, (seriously, I think the room we stayed in would have fit our entire apartment!) and then we went to breakfast, which was served in the dining room with the other two guests from the carriage house. We had fresh OJ, herbal tea, (they had coffee, of course,) praline-topped cinnamon rolls, parfaits, and the piece de la resistance, individual spinach-egg souffles in little heart-shaped crocks with bacon on the side. I also had half a cheese cream-schmeered bagel, but really, who's counting?

Then it was back home, madly throwing things around the apartment and getting ready to collect our kids to take them to a preschool "friend" of Tyler's birthday pool party, where the kids - and the adults! - had a great time in and out of the pool. We couldn't miss it, you see; Karlee, the birthday girl, is as in love with Tyler as a newly five year-old girl could be, and Tyler, like any boy, whether 4 or 24, is more or less oblivious but still enjoys the attention. Arianna and her husband Kevin were excellent hosts, and though we were invited to stay after for the family party, we declined so we could get the kids home, washed, and to bed and have a little more time for ourselves.

All in all it was a brilliant weekend, and I think/hope/believe Jason enjoyed his birthday...whether or not he enjoyed turning 32.

Happy 32nd birthday, Jason. I love you.

Skeptic No More

2009-05-15T08:46:00.000-07:00

I think it was Julie who was telling me about the at-home dry cleaning kit "Dryel", and I remember thinking, "Yeah, but what about stains? What about pressing and those beautiful, crisp lines in my husband's slacks when they come back from the cleaners? What about underarm and other nasty odors?"

But my last trip to the cleaners (they are few and far between, mind you, but I DO have to go at least once a month for various clothing items) cost me about $15.00, so I decided to give Dryel a whirl. (You "whirl" it in the dryer. Ha.) I found a starter set at Target on clearance for about $7 and got up the courage a few days ago to try it, considering Jason and I got all dressed up on his birthday (slacks and shirt, blouse and skirt, that sort of thing) and went to dinner at the Pala Casino's Oak Room. Why would that make me want to dry clean at home? It wasn't that I wound up with buffalo meat on my blouse, no...it was that, afterward, we spent 2 or 3 hours hanging out at the casino playing slots with a miniscule sum of money we set aside for entertainment, but I'll get to all that in another post. POINT IS, casinos are notoriously smoke-and-booze-filled, and though we OBVIOUSLY weren't smoking or drinking, the smell permeates EVERYTHING. Needless to say, our nice clothes required laundering, and I wasn't prepared to drop another $15 to clean them.

Enter my Dryel set. All four clothing items - plus another couple small items I had been meaning to take to the cleaners - were stain treated with the included stain treatment, tossed into the dryel bag with a dryel sheet, and were then tossed into the dryer for 30 minutes on medium heat. Ding! Clothes are done!

They smelled great, were stain-free, and after a little bit of ironing on Jay's shirt and slacks and my blouse, everything was right as rain and good as if it had just come back from the dry cleaners. That was great, but I still wasn't completely convinced. What about more serious stains, or stains all over? What about when I didn't feel like ironing?

Today I threw in another load...four items, to be exact, one of which was a pair of Jason's slacks, and one of which was a black dress replete with those little deodorant cat whiskers. I spent an extra few minutes with the stain treatment and VOILA! stain-free! The slacks? No, I didn't bother ironing them, but I took them out of the dryer bag and they were still very slightly damp, so I hung them up to dry and VOILA! they're wrinkle-free and ready to go...even if they aren't quite as crisp as they'd be if I'd ironed them, but they're khakis, people. Who really cares? (Yes, Jason...I know you do. I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you by ironing all your slacks next week, I promise. And you can even use this to hold me to it.)

So TEN items "dry cleaned" in less than a week for $7, AND I have the potential to clean up to six MORE items still sitting in the Dryel box. That, and from now on I only need to buy the refill sheets, which end up even cheaper. Say I only clean 5 items on average; that means I cleaned 15 items for $7 at less than $0.50 an item! AWESOME! And now it's convenient, I don't have to waste gas to-and-from, I don't have to go as long between cleanings, and I can even treat stains I didn't think I could treat before! (I still don't recommend Dryel for stuff like crayons, lipstick, blood, what-have-you, and think those are best left to professionals.)

I am officially a Dryel convert...a skeptic no more. If you do lots of dry cleaning and have access to your own dryer at home, check it out. I can safely say I endorse the product. Now I only wish I was getting PAID to endorse it. Anyway...Have a great day, all!

I Don't Watch Much TV...

2009-05-14T21:57:00.000-07:00

...but...you knew there was going to be a "but", didn't you?

There are two shows I follow. I didn't actually follow them from the very beginning, but became a convert to both over time.

Now, there are shows I really LIKE, but not that I will devote any time to watching...like Extreme Home Makeover and Deal or No Deal, Hell's Kitchen and Iron Chef, and my favorite, Alton Brown's Good Eats (which, like Iron Chef, is over on the Food Network). Then there are shows that I LOVED...back when they were on, which, unfortunately, is no more...like M*A*S*H and The Young Indiana Jones series.

But there are two shows that I dare not miss...per se. You see, we don't actually have television. No, it's not that we're not equipped for digital TV (even though I don't think we are), it's that we dumped Uverse a while back and never picked up any rabbit ears, so we've been living off our DVD collection (mostly kids' movies) and Blockbuster.com for...ages now. And honestly, I like it that way. If I want news, I jump on foxnews.com. If I want weather, I go to weather.com. Easy enough.

My two shows, however, make not having TV more difficult...or they did, until I realized I could access the last x number of episodes online at those TV stations' websites! TADA! I now watch my shows - AT MY CONVENIENCE! - online...with "limited commercial interuptions"! It's AWESOME. But back to the shows.

So like I said, there are 2. Years ago as newlyweds, we caught one or two of the last few episodes of the first season of 24, and as soon as the first season was available on DVD, we rented them successively from the local Blockbuster, reserving the next disc any time we could. We watched those puppies straight through, often 3 hours at a go (4 episodes per disc on 6 disks, each episode about 45 minutes when the commercials are edited). We were obsessed. So obsessed, in fact, that we actually MISSED THE BALL DROP on New Year's Eve, 2003 because it came down to pausing the VERY LAST EPISODE in the series ONLY 15 MINUTES FROM THE END for 3 minutes to watch the ball drop, or continue on through to the bitter, moving, emotional end. Like I said, what ball drop?

We watched 24 for the next couple of seasons while it was going, making sure to drop any-and-everything for our Monday night rendevous with Jack Bauer, (terrorists for family home evening, anyone?) and about halfway through the 4th season, Jason kinda gave up. I didn't. I'm a sucker for suspense, what can I say? He's watched little bits and pieces with me since then (this is season 7, by the way), but he usually shrugs his shoulders in disgust and walks away after about 5 minutes. Me? I stick with it to the bitter end. And this season, I think they're finally going to kill off Jack Bauer. And I may very well cry.

Hey, it's been a good, long run, and if they save him, I'll still tune in devotedly (the day after each episode airs, and via internet) next season. By the way, if you haven't seen 24, rent the first season. If you like nail-biting, nausea-building suspense, uber-intensity, and being emotionally strung up to the point that you occasionally stop breathing, MAN, that's your stuff. First season was still the best, primarily because it was willing to do things and go places that no other TV drama thus far had been willing to touch. ROCKED my WORLD. (Go rent it. Now. Ok, AFTER you finish this entry. Then go. Seriously. You won't regret it...unless you regret becoming addicted and investing too much time into watching TV. Rent it anyway.)

Then there's my OTHER show, and that one is ALL Cory's fault. Same story there. The rest of the world was halfway through season 2 of LOST when Cory let me borrow the first season, swearing that I'd love it and wouldn't be able to break away from the television, even to do the dishes. Oh, man, she was right. And by the time I finished the first season, she was handing me the second season on DVD that she had JUST bought. And I was hooked...line and sinker, too. So, thanks a lot, Cory. And I'm not sure whether I mean that sarcastically or sincerely. :)

Lost is another show Jay was interested in and then gave up on when it got really weird...and it did get really weird. In fact, I think it was the first episode of the second season where he started to scratch his head and make jokes about how the creators titled the show Lost NOT because these people were stranded on a crazy island in the middle of nowhere, but because it was the creators' intention to leave their audience thoroughly lost. Ha, ha. (Sometimes I still think he's right.)

I have followed this show since season three came up on the internet, episode by episode, and gasped and drawn conclusions and drawn diagrams to reach conclusions and played "clues to the next season of Lost" games on the internet, and even cried like a baby when Jin died. No, literally sobbed. Like a child. And still do, every time they replay Sun screaming desperately out the side of the helicopter. I'm tearing up right now. Seriously.

Tonight after the kids went down, I cried again. No, not because this season just ended with the season finale and I have to wait until the first part of 2010 to enjoy the final season and finally put all the pieces together, but because of Sawyer and Juliet. Far from Romeo, still they had a parting scene the likes of which made me weep. Amazing how wrapped up you can get in the characters, huh?

For those of you who follow Lost - which is probably NONE of you - OH MY GOSH. That ending?! The white light? Lost in black letters instead of white on black? People, I am SPEECHLESS, and as most of you know, that doesn't happen very often...if EVER. Speechless. All the woes and worries and oppressively pitiful emotions I've been feeling lately? This episode nuked them all. (wink, wink) I'm still wrapped up in Lost. I've been sitting around all evening trying to think of something else, so I had to come over here to the computer and vomit my brain-craziness into a blog entry. Geez Louise, people. Yikes. Seriously, Wow. Wowie-Zowie. Blobbity-blabbity-gobbledy-gook. SPEECHLESS.

So next Tuesday (or any day next week after Monday night) I'll be jumping onto Fox.com to watch the second-to-last installment of Jack's horrible day, (from 6 - 7 AM,) and the following week (unless they give us a 2fer grand finale next Monday, in which case I will be FREE from internet television watching until 2010!), when Jack's day will finally end...heck, potentially his LIFE will end. If a blog entry shows up sometime between next Tuesday and a week from Tuesday that says something simple like "I'm SPEECHLESS," or "Please pardon my absence from blogging as I mourn the passing of Jack Bauer," you'll understand. And maybe even get addicted, if you bomb on over to your local video store and do as I command you.

Anyway, I really don't watch much TV, but every once in a while a show (or two) comes along that really grabs me, and I waste infinitely too much time on characters who do not exist for the sole purpose of losing myself in their reality in order to momentarily escape my own. And 24 and Lost both qualify. Why? Because fighting terrorists and making sense of a 400 pieces of a thousand piece puzzle without a photo of the overall picture are far more interesting than what I'm generally doing at 8:15 on a given weeknight: waiting for my husband to come home and trying to be quiet in our teeny little apartment so my two babes can sleep in the next room without me disturbing them. INFINITELY more interesting. Both Jack Bauer AND Jack Shepherd. But I'm guessing that's just a part of the common Mommy denominator. Cest la vie.

It's a Miracle, People!

2009-05-12T20:01:00.000-07:00

The Biohazard unit went into the Bob & Vicky's today...and found their cat, Bandit, ALIVE! (NOTE: The photo at left is NOT Bandit, but the best I could find that looks like him on google images.) He's been in there for the last WEEK with them without food or fresh water, and yet he LIVES! They fed him, pet him a bit, and now he needs a home...and FAST. He's about 14, shy, quiet, affectionate, and ready for a home that will protect and shelter him for the few years he has left. I have major cat allergies, and I don't know of anyone off the top of my head looking to bring in a cat, but I can't bear the thought of him being taken to animal control only to be put down when he's survived what he has this last week, so if YOU - Yes, YOU! - know of anyone who would love to add a cat to the family, somewhere there are two people who I know would be eternally grateful, and there's a sweet white-with-gray-patches cat all alone in the apartment across the way just awaiting his fate who would certainly be equally as grateful. (Oh, and you'll have my undying gratitude as well!) So please...ask around - AND HURRY! - and then let me know ASAP! The front office even has a cat carrier for you!

It's a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood

2009-05-11T07:57:00.000-07:00

Perhaps I should start every blog entry with a sarcastic title, hm?

Which, of course, leads you to assume that today's title is sarcastic, and it is NOT, therefore, a beautiful day in the neighborhood, contrary to Mr. Rogers' humble daily proclamation, and you would be entirely correct.

But this un-beautiful day has nothing to do with the weather, or this dumpy apartment, or any of those fun things...no, instead, it has to do with our neighbors...

...who left the apartments last night for the last time, in body bags.

But I digress. Bob and Vicky, a retiree couple, live(d) across the way from us...literally, right across the courtyard; our front door is maybe 30 or 40 feet from theirs. Last night the police showed up at their apartment a little while after we'd got the kids to bed, maybe sometime around 9 or 9:30, called out by one of our other courtyard neighbors, I guess, due to a foul smell and the TV turned up REALLY loud. She was a shut-in with all sorts of health problems, and he was her spouse, caregiver, and (we still believe) the love of her life. The kids and I would run over there every now and then to drop off bread or cookies or...whatever, and when one of their two cats, Smokey (the other was Bandit) was ill, I took some pictures for them and framed the best, right there for Vicky when Smokey finally did move on. They were as kind and neighborly as neighbors could be, and I like to think that we were just as neighborly in return.

So we opened up the front sliding glass door last night to listen and find out if Bob and Vicky were okay while the police were here...and were even thinking that maybe they'd left to the hospital or something while we were down in Temecula for Jason's birthday this past weekend. (I will be posting something about that trip later...but this seemed more important.) I was really hoping that the smell was Bandit...he was an old cat, too, and I thought maybe he'd passed on while they were tending to Vicky's health.

Through the door, though, we saw and heard many more officers descending...and then flashes went off inside Bob and Vicky's place (LOTS of flashes)...and finally the proclamation. One of the officers was on his phone, almost directly outside our front door: "...Shot her in the head, and then shot himself in the head. Murder-suicide, pretty cut-and-dry." Unavoidably and in shock, I had a good cry, and shortly thereafter the police were at our place taking a statement. (The last time I'd seen them was earlier in the week...he'd taken her for short walks in the courtyard here in front of our apartment a couple days in a row, and then Tyler had yelled "HI, BOB!" from the dinner table like he often did when Bob was coming home from somewhere Wednesday evening, but we left Thursday evening and came home Saturday, so it must've happened sometime during that stint.) One of the policemen very considerately interuppted our conversation and went to close Bob and Vicky's front door for us, but it was another 3 or 4 hours before their bodies were removed. Jason said he'd heard something about a suicide note, but beyond that, that's all we know.

I guess Bob and Vicky aren't interesting enough to make the news, but as aggreived as I am that he (or they?) felt such desperation in their situation - enough to end their lives - I wanted to express our hope that they have found release, and make sure that they were known and remembered...and not just for their death, but for their love of one another, for their adoration of cats and of kids - which, if I remember correctly, they couldn't have - for their love of clocks (and their commemeration of every moment and event in their lives with a new clock...they didn't have a square inch of un-clocked space on their walls!), and their neighborliness. It's interesting, as we age, how our perspective changes; whereas a decade ago I might have been inclined to judge, at this point in my life I am only full of empathy and truly hope that Bob and Vicky are now comfortable, at ease, and together.

I sure hope the day "pretties-up" quick...and if my kids ever mention Bob or Vicky (and until they can both read and have interest in reading this blog, the latter being probably never), please work with us in letting them know that our neighbors have moved. Moved, moved ON...we don't necessarily feel like we're being dishonest. After all, I think perhaps the Lord was merciful to our little family in this; it's a miracle Jason got the time off so we could leave on Thursday, a blessing that my folks were willing to take the kids those days, and an equal blessing that Bella could stay with her aunt and Grandma on Friday. Otherwise, being a Stay-Home Mom (with all three kids in tow on a Friday, which is when we assume this all must have taken place), the kids and I'd have been the ones to hear gunshots (as it was, no one did, but this place is pretty empty on weekday DAYS), call the police, and perhaps even find them/come unglued around the kids/have had the kids watching the police go in and out. We're grateful that, if things had to work out the way they did, that they worked out the way they did, for our kids' sake. And again, we really hope Bob and Vicky are happy, comfortable, and have found relief and release. They were great people.

My Son Reestablishes the Great Soda/Pop Debate and Pronounces a New Winner

2009-05-07T12:51:00.000-07:00

I love how long that title is. It's like a Frasier episode.

So I was talking on the phone about the Great Soda/Pop Debate, pronouncing the winner "Soft Drink", and my son interuppted me.

"No, Mom...it's called BUBBLE JUICE."

Aaaah, yes. It is. He has a point. Because in our home, that's what we call it. Made more sense than anything else in trying to describe what they were about to ingest. We also call Soy Sauce "Salty Sauce" and Ramen Soup "Squiggly Soup", for obvious reasons.

So I stand corrected...not by Emily, not by Adrienne (who so kindly admitted I'm right in my own way, anyway!)...but by my son.

It is neither Soda nor Pop, Coke nor Soft Drink...it is, instead, Bubble Juice.

Enjoy!

The Great SODA/POP Debate

2009-05-06T16:11:00.000-07:00

So I'm commenting on a friend's blog, (Hi, Ginny!) thinking about laughing so hard that milk would come out of my nose (because it's ALWAYS milk, right?) and then I'm thinking, "But I don't really drink much milk...and, as discussed a few entries ago, when I do it's Soy Milk, and it just doesn't sound the same to say "soy milk came out of my nose."

Not that you want ANYTHING to come out of your nose...TANGENT WARNING!

***I've always been an easy vomit, particularly when I was sick as a kid. And I don't just get sick, I get SICK...and when I vomit, it inevitably comes not only up through my mouth, but out of my nose. One particular time, I'd eaten rotini. You know, that pasta that looks like a corkscrew. And then I threw up. And it came out of my nose. I comment specifically on the rotini because, although I've also thrown up spaghetti, which is incredibly disgusting coming out of your nose in one long string, the sheer GIRTH and TWISTINESS of rotini is by far a superior (okay, maybe not SUPERIOR...) experience. NEVER, I repeat, NEVER throw up rotini pasta through your nose! Especially when it is accompanied by orange juice and tomato sauce. It's like you bore a hole a mile wide in your nasal cavaties and then pour acid through it. Trust me, just don't do it. Not that you would.***

But since I don't drink milk, what could I comment would come out of my nose? Well, I wrote soda, but that sparked in my memory a debate I had back in college: Is that bubbly stuff in the can (or, if you're that classy, the bottle) SODA or POP?

If you're from Utah, it's likely you call it Pop. If you're from back east or the northwest, you'll probably call it Soda. If you're from the very northernmost eastern US, it's "coke," no matter what it is.

But as the debate continued, I wondered to myself, "What do I call it?" I leaned more toward soda, admittedly, because asking someone if they want a "pop" implies you might deck them. Try as I might, though, I couldn't really call it soda, because that just didn't sound right, even though those two (limited) options seemed reasonable.

What DO I call it? I realized a couple months later when I was home for Christmas what it is REALLY supposed to be called, and though you may argue, it is neither Soda NOR Pop, and it's most especially NOT "coke" unless you're ordering a coke. It is also NOT that insipid conglomeration of the two popular terms: "soda pop."

For you see, my friends, having a soda pop is SUPPOSED to be called...

Having a Soft Drink. Go to any fast food place in Southern California (which, everyone knows, sets the standard...and before you haraunge me for that, that was totally tongue-in-cheek, people!) and on the menu, where you find the soft drinks listed, they will inevitably be listed under "Soft Drinks."

Therefore, to end the great Soda Pop debate...I proclaim the winning expression to be Soft Drinks. And I seal that proclamation with a very loud, carbonated bubble-induced belch. So there. And the debate is over.

The Angel Abigail, An Early Cinco de Mayo, and the Father-Son Campout

2009-05-02T14:03:00.000-07:00

As I type this, Jason is sound asleep (it's 2:04 PM), Miagee is taking her nap, and Tyler is watching a quiet-time cartoon about the birth of the Savior. All is quiet on the Western front, and so I was able to get a really good chuckle when a 4 year-old voice disturbed the peace:

"That's Mary. She's Jesus's Mommy. And that's the Angel Abigail."

"That's GABRIEL, honey."

"Oh, yeah! Not Abigail. GABE-REE-ELE. Thanks, Mom." Followed a few minutes later by "If you want to walk to Bethlehem, it takes a looooooooooong time, and if you have a baby in your tummy then you have to ride a horse."

"Donkey, honey."

"Oh yeah. Because it takes sooooooooooo long to get to Jerusalem. I mean, Bethlehem."

Did I mention that my son is awesome? See, not only is he adorable and a tiny genius, he's adventuresome. In order so Jason could sleep, I took the kids for a couple hours to a Cinco de Mayo fiesta going on at La Palma and Harbor today...yes, I know it's the 2nd, but it's tough to have a well-attended fiesta on a Tuesday. Anyway, we parked, walked to the festival grounds, traversed the rides and fairway games attendants, (I confess, I spent $2 to lose a ball toss game because I'm just that weak...and not that I was weak in tossing balls,) blew $9 on Tyler climbing and sliding on a giant plaything with bridges and whatnot and the kids riding in a floating plastic kayak around a manmade river through pretend tunnels and teepees surrounded by cheesy Indian statues. In fact, I still have NO idea what a plaything and an American Indian-themed boat ride have to do with Mexican Independance, but whatever.

So he climbed that giant plaything on his own, circumvented obstacles, and ended up about 30 feet in the air at one point (albeit boxed in by railings, nets, and the like), and then boarded a plastic boat chasing goldfish around a waterway. (There were actually about half a dozen live goldfish in the water, which entertained the HECK out of Tyler.) Miagee climbed in with him and was fine for about the first minute and a half...and then she started to panic...and then she started to sob and reach for the sides, rocking the plastic boat rather precariously...so an attendant held the boat for me while I fetched her. Tyler? Good to go. In fact, he'd rather have kept a crying Miagee on board...she was rocking the boat! WOOHOO!!!

For those of you not yet informed, I've started calling Mikayla Miagee...like Mr. Miagi in Karate Kid. It has to be spelled Miagee, though, because she was formerly Magoo, which has too O's. Why Miagee? I don't know. Why Magoo, or it's shorter version, 'Goo? Why Mia? Well, we know why Mia...that's what she calls herself. (Seriously. "Mikayla, what's your name?" "MIA!")

ANYWAY, Tyler ALSO had fun at the Father-Son Campout. Jason? He had a good time, too...but he DID comment that a) he's getting old, as evidenced by his inability to sleep "just anywhere" anymore, (and he's right...he's turning 32 in less than a week. SOOOOO old.) and that b) STAYING asleep while camping is not so easy, either. (Hence the nap. Well, no, that, and this week he had his second work-all-night-long-at-the-office stint in as many weeks, so he hasn't really caught up on rest yet, but certainly couldn't NOT take Tyler to the campout!) On the positive side of things, they had a blast together (and Tyler was impeccably behaved the entire time!), Tyler slept soundly (inside Nona and Papa's van...thanks for the loaner, guys!) (and for those of you thinking they were chicken for not sleeping outside in a tent, it was in the '50's last night and supposed to rain!), and it DID rain...just a little...so Tyler and his Dad spent a few minutes last night watching Bishop and Conner scramble to put a tarp over their tent, and a few minutes this morning teasing Bishop about the NEED to scramble.

As an aside, both my father and my father-in-law are the world's biggest teases. I know for certain that my Dad got that from HIS Dad, my Papa, and I see that my Dad2 passed it on to Jason...who will inevitably (and, based on his encouraging Tyler to tease Bishop about their late-night tarp battle) inherit and pass on that tease gene.

Anyway, everything went well, my family is all back together and in one piece (and resting up for more togetherness), and no matter how crappy life gets (like waking up at 3:30 in the morning realizing your husband hasn't come home from work yet!) at least we're together. So you have a great weekend, people...we will too.

Hot Mormons

2009-05-01T12:37:00.000-07:00

So, we're in the news again, thanks to some guy putting together a(nother) RM calendar. Haven't heard? (I thought everyone had.) It seems he found a bunch of active, hot returned missionaries and put together a calendar of all of them...shirtless. In fact, there have been 2 or 3 of these calendars thus far, and he's currently working both on another and on a Hot Mormon Moms calendar.

By the way, he's been ex'ed, whether over the calendar or other infractions, no one seems to know for sure, and because of his excommunication, as is BYU's perogative as a private institution, his degree has been revoked.

So, without offering my opinion (which some of you can guess because you know me so well), I'm wondering what you think of these calendars. Amused? Horrified? Ambivalent? Irritated? Ready to audition? Please feel free to comment on this entry if you wish to explain yourself; otherwise, vote in the poll at left! I really want to know!

Needed to Share This...

2009-04-30T22:27:00.001-07:00

Even as I'm listening to reports of the swine flu rampant in Mexico and bleeding into the US (and that the US is not closing their borders for some uber-lame "the horse is already out of the barn" reason), I find it incredibly important to share a new blog created by a man whose other blogs I already follow. His name is Mark, and he knows what he's talking about. Check out this new blog here: http://survivepandemicflu.blogspot.com/

Kudos to him for getting the word out. Please get the word out, too, and share this blog address. Lord willing, it'll all come to naught, but just in case, there's not a single person I know and care for that I wouldn't want to be privy to the incredibly insightful, timely, and insanely valuable information in this blog. Please pass on the address. If this turns into something and you don't, I guarantee you'll feel awful about it later...

Sorry to be so bleak and glum, but I'm just being practical. 'Night.

No, Really, I DO Need a Boob Job!

2009-04-28T22:28:00.000-07:00

Today I was watching Bella, and Tyler was at school so I sat Magoo and Bellagirl on the couch with the Little Einsteins and hopped in the shower for the first time in 2 days. (I'm a Mom. You understand.) Now, 'Goo has this habit of opening up the shower door and greeting me with a big "Ow yooou tateena towoo?" (That's Mikayla for "Are you taking a shower?") "No, kid, I'm taking a nap." Yes, I'm in the shower...now please close the door so I can enjoy what warmth I have left.

But this time she didn't close the door...she just turned around and walked away, and less than a split second later Bella's little face poked through to say hello...but instead of "hello," she asked, and I quote:

"Jessica, where your boobies go?"

Aaaaaaaaaaah, the honesty of children.

I'd like to use the excuse that because my hands were above my head (I was washing my hair) everything sort of stretched and flattened out.

The truth of the matter is, I don't know where they went, Miss Bellagirl. Not the foggiest idea. They were there 5 years ago, but then they just sort of...vanished.

"Where your boobies go." That is a statement that will haunt my dreams until I'm able to find them again in some doctor's office. "Where your boobies go." Huh. I really don't know...but last I saw them, they were so gigantic, thanks to breast feeding, that I didn't know what to do with them. Maybe that's why they went away. I didn't appreciate them enough. But seriously, who appreciates their fourth bout of mastitis? Or their first, for that matter?

"Where your boobies go?"

Yeah. Gonna go sleep on that one. And I'm going to fall asleep on my stomach, mind you, because ain't nothin' there to get in the way. "Where your boobies go?" I just don't know, kid. And with that...goodnight.

Oh, Sweet Corn!

2009-04-27T20:04:00.000-07:00

That was supposed to be a sort of moaning "Oooooh," by the way.

You see, today I ate some corn. Not just any corn, mind you: fresh-picked, farmer's market organic first-of-the-season sweet corn.

No, first-of-the-season is not always (okay, seldom) BEST of the season, but it is FIRST of the season, meaning it gets you all excited for the best of the season, and what a season it is! In another state, it'd be summer and early fall...here, it's RIGHT NOW.

I bought 3 ears (and ate all 3 ears) of yellow corn still in the husk from the farmer's market (where else would I get my produce?), and today decided they'd make a great lunch in concert with some zucchini-tomato bisque I whipped up the other day (using farmer's market produce...duh), so I turned on the oven and popped that stuff in.

The corn.

You see, the best way to cook corn, I've discovered, happens to be the EASIEST way to cook corn: buy it in the husk, leave it in the husk, throw it (in the husk, untouched!) into a 350 degree oven (preheat it or not, your choice), directly on the rack with the rack positioned in any area of the oven you please, and leave it there for 30-45 minutes until the husk is browned and dried out-looking and your home smells like the corn booth at a county fair. Then remove the corn from the oven (with a potholder!), let it cool for a couple minutes, yank that husk (and everything else) off the cob (feel free to twist it into a handle or just pull it off and use your spike-ended corn holders), butter, salt, and eat. (You may need to let it cool another couple minutes before you get into the eating part.)

Too long to wait for your corn to cook? Shame, really, because it's soooooooooo good that way. Fine, then husk it, steam it for 10-15 minutes, and eat up.

Still too long? Baby. Whatever...boil it for 8 minutes. But don't you come complaining to me if it's not as sweet and juicy and insanely delectable as its ovened counterpart.

Anyway, yuuuuummm. Try it out. Seriously. Farmer's Market First-of-Season Corn in the oven @ 350 for 30 minutes. Oh yeah. You won't regret it. (And you might even leave a comment on this entry that looks something like this: "Oh, Sweet Corn!") Now go forth, and good luck.

The Devil and the Duck

2009-04-23T15:24:00.000-07:00

My mom sent this to me, and I love it. I'd seen it before, but sometimes you forget...so for those of you who've seen this already, it's either a great reminder or you can skip it, and for those who haven't, well, enjoy!

There was a little boy visiting his grandparents on their farm. He was given a slingshot to play with out in the woods. He practiced in the woods, but he could never hit the target.

Getting a little discouraged, he headed back for dinner. As he was walking back he saw Grandma's pet duck. Just out of impulse, he let the slingshot fly, hit the duck square in the head and killed it.

He was shocked and grieved! In a panic, he hid the dead duck in the wood pile, only to find his Sister watching! Sally had seen it all, but she said nothing.

After lunch the next day Grandma said, 'Sally, let's wash the dishes', but Sally said, 'Grandma, Johnny told me he wanted to help in the kitchen.' Then she whispered to him, "Remember the duck?' So Johnny did the dishes. Later that day, Grandpa asked if the children wanted to go fishing and Grandma said, 'I'm sorry, but I need Sally to help make supper.' Sally just smiled and said, 'Well, that's all right because Johnny told me he wanted to help.' She whispered again, 'Remember the duck?' So Sally went fishing and Johnny stayed to help.

After several days of Johnny doing both his chores and Sally's, he finally couldn't stand it any longer. He came to Grandma and confessed that he had killed the duck. Grandma knelt down, gave him a hug and said, 'Sweetheart, I know. You see, I was standing at the window and I saw the whole thing, but because I love you, I forgave you. I was just wondering how long you would let Sally make a slave of you.'

Thought for the day and every day thereafter: Whatever is in your past, whatever you have done. that the devil keeps throwing in your face (lying, cheating, debt, fear, bad habits, hatred, anger, bitterness...), whatever it is...You need to know: God was standing at the window and He saw the whole thing. He has seen your whole life. He wants you to know that He loves you and that you are forgiven. He's just wondering how long you will let the devil make a slave of you.

The great thing about God is that when you ask for forgiveness, He not only forgives you, but He forgets.

(Love this one...)

Quick Update from Below...

2009-04-23T14:11:00.001-07:00

Remember that bunch of Kale?

What bunch of Kale?

Yup, you guessed it...just polished off the last piece.

Hey, did anyone ever notice that the word "polish" as in polishing furniture and "Polish" as in from Poland are spelled the same way but pronounced differently? Depends on the situation, how it is pronounced and thought of. Huh.

Anyway, toasted kale.............aaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhlllllll.

Family Fun Screws Up...in a Good Way

2009-04-23T13:02:00.000-07:00

I've subscribed to Family Fun magazine for ages, and I always love the projects and things that they come up with; in fact, I've gone so far as to tear out the pages for the last 4 years and keep them in a binder of good ideas, since I know it'll be a few years before my kids can do most of the crafts presented.

Anyway, in the last issue of FF, I found a suggestion for getting your kids to eat more veggies: toss them with olive oil, lay them out on a baking sheet and bake them for x number of minutes, depending. One of their veggie suggestions - apparently the "kid preferred" veggie, in fact - was Kale. Now, kale rocks. It has an awesomely green flavor, and it's great used many ways...my favorite is chopped up in Italian Wedding Soup. So I got excited: new use for kale, and my kids will undoubtedly LOVE IT...right?

Yesterday at the Farmer's market I picked up a lovely bunch of semi-curly kale and proudly brought it home in my reusable shopping bag...how green am I on Earth Day? Whatever. Anyway, today I whipped that kale out of the fridge, pulled off some leaves (removing a good portion of the tough stem area), tossed it with some olive oil and spread those leaves out on a baking sheet, popped them into a 400 degree oven, flipped the leaves after 5 minutes, took them out of the oven after another 3 (8 min total), removed them to a paper towel-lined plate, and immediately sprinkled them with sea salt. Then I tentatively picked up one of those perfectly browned, gleaming, lightly salted leaves (attempting to keep it from crumbling on its way to my impatiently-awaiting mouth) and popped it into my face.

OH...MY...GOSH.

If you like toasted pumpkin seeds, you will LOVE oven-toasted Kale. As my parents would say, (sorry, Mom and Dad, it's too funny not to steal) my mouth climaxed. See, I LOVE pumpkin seeds...but I hate that hull, and I'm too lazy to strip the hulls away. Not so with kale. No hulls...just perfectly crisp, toasty, tasty yumminess...

...that the kids hated. All three kids, in fact, since Bella was here today too. Tyler took a little bite and proclaimed it "Not so Yummy." Bella chewed thoughtfully for a minute and then spat her small mouthful into the trash. Mikayla ate the first little bite I gave her and asked for more, so I gave her a whole leaf...which she immediately bit, crumbled the rest, and announced was "Eeeew Yucky."

Note to self: do not feed ANYONE oven-crisped kale over a black area rug when previously inundated by cockroaches. Crumbled browned kale on black fibers look an AWFUL (and I do mean awful) lot like cockroach parts.

So the kale wasn't a hit...with anyone but me. But lemme tell ya, it'll get ME to eat a whole bunch more kale (and I do mean bunch!), and the kids can just go back to popping cherry tomatoes.

As for me? Heading back into the kitchen to make some more kale chips...right...now.

THE ONE WE'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR...

2009-04-20T15:28:00.000-07:00

No, not news of an impending move out of state...

THE KOREAN BATHHOUSE!!!!!!!!!! YES, it is finally time!

You see, I had to seperate myself from the experience a bit...just to see if it really was as wonderful as I remember. And, ooooooh, it waaaaaaassss...By the way, the photos included herein are not of the actual bathhouse, but they are similar to what I'm talking about, fyi.

Jewels - who was rapidly beginning to wonder if she'd made the right choice, agreeing to go with me to a place full of naked Korean women - and I arrived at the Imperial Health Spa in Garden Grove sometime around 10 AM. We entered through the women-only entrance and approached the front desk...which was basically all there was in the room, minus a couple potted trees and a little table and chairs. We were asked if we'd made a reservation...and my heart sank. Reservation? Uh...no. Sorry. Never been here before...didn't know we were supposed to. The woman behind the desk informed us that the next available scrub/massage treatment for two more women would be at 11:30. Whew. No problem. Did we want a specific therapist? Nope, wouldn't know who to ask for. We handed over our credit cards and were given a slip of paper to sign - and tip, if we so chose, and not knowing what was appropriate, we each tipped $10, bringing the grand total for our (FIVE HOURS LONG) session and day to $80. Did I read that right? $80 (including the tip) for a 90 minute scrub-down and massage...plus unlimited access to all the facilities? Yup. Niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiice.

So we were handed a stack of towels, a stretchy locker "key" with a number (which would later be the number by which our therapists identified us), and a robe. (We collected our plastic nubbly slippers near the door.) We both stripped down - admittedly a little nervously - and donned our robes, carrying our towels along with us. Just around the corner of the changing area was a primping area with a water dispenser, tissue, hairdryers, benches, mirrors, lotions, whathaveyou, and a row of wall hangers for robes...with about half a dozen robes hanging from it. It was time. Directly to our right was the wet area of the spa, glassed in and through a door. We peered through the glass, tried not to giggle like little girls, and looked around at the small handful of naked Korean ladies in their plastic slippers showering off at little sit-down shower stalls and scrubbing the heck out of each other...I HATE to relate it to monkeys grooming each other, because that SOOOOO is not how it was, but since that's the only thing I have to which I can compare it, well...it was a foreign expression of community I was witnessing.

Anyway, we each took a deep breath, shed our robes, and plunged into the spa area, taking a good look at what surrounded us. Most of the explanation signs were in Korean, of course, but each area had a sign in English, too: the hot, still saltwater bathing pool (sigh), the steam room and the dry sauna (double sigh), the ice water (okay...cold water...) plunge pool (that looked like a baptismal font!) outside the dry sauna (UBER-sigh!), the large rectangular whirlpool, the salt-scrub steam room (more explanation to come), the stand-up shower stalls, and the sit-down shower stalls. What's an uncultured pair of white girls to do, you ask? Well, start with a good rinse-off, just so no one thought we were planning to contaminate the water with sunless tanner or Peony lotion from Bath and Body Works...you can imagine. I'm uncultured enough as it is.

We rinsed, soaped, rinsed, and then headed for the saltwater tub. It was the perfect (not too hot, but not pansy-warm) temperature, then tried out the salt steam room. It wasn't until 20 minutes later when we saw another woman take a bowl of salt into the steam room that we got it. It was nice before, of course, but we learned by watching that the point was to scrub yourself down with salt while hanging out in the steam room, and then to sit there and let it suck the impurities from your newly buffed body, rinsing off afterward. Huh. Good times. In fact, such good times that neither Jewels nor myself flinched when we scrubbed each others' backs.

Naked? Yeah, we'd forgotten about that after a good two minutes there.

No, seriously. We did. But I'll get to that.

So we enjoyed the whirlpool, hung out in the dry sauna...and then took the plunge. I don't know that I've ever moved so quickly in my life, but after the dry sauna (on two different occasions while there, mind you!) I grabbed onto the hand rails and plunged into the (ICE) cold water to my waist...and summarily dunked myself under the water. I then leapt with the speed (but lacking the grace) of a cat back out, shaking off the cold and then lounging on a lounge chair. I just know shivered thinking about it, and for those of you in southern CA today (enjoying our 90 degree heat), just imagine the ecstacy.

But that was just the first room, people. Back out in the primp area we toweled off, collected and donned our robes, and headed into the next room, full of soft padded lounge chairs, a smoothie bar and food area, and four other rooms ready to provide us with new experiences. The first had a sign written only in Korean, but Julie and I called it the "nap room" because it was silent, contained lots of blankets and "pillows" - rectangular chunks of foam covered in a plastic-type fabric - and it was just mildly cool. The second was the Jade room, wherein the floors, walls, and decor were all jade. The (very heated) jade floor was covered by bamboo mats and blankets, and even though I thought it seemed a little nuts, I felt more mentally in-tune lying in that room than I have since...well, since I gave birth to Tyler. Of course, pretty much the only thing I was thinking in there was "wow, it's hot in here," but that "it's hot in here" though wasn't corrupted by all sorts of other thoughts, ie. "I wonder what Jason/the kids are doing right now, I have to do the dishes/laundry/feed my family when I get home, I wonder if Jack Bauer's going to die on this season of 24..." You know, the usual.

Anyway, the heat won out, and we moved to the other two rooms...one was the Salt room. On the floor were salt rocks - big chunky things - and the walls and ceiling were made of bricks of salt. Another woman joined us in this room, and showed us that on the back wall was a light switch that lit up the back salt brick wall...from the rear. It glowed. AWESOME. So we lay in there on blankets and "pillows" and chatted with the woman about how this was the greatest Korean Bathhouse in southern California, how she herself was Japanese and didn't want to return to Japan because she knew how much she'd miss this very bathhouse, and how she had been afflicted for years with a completely debilitating fibromyalgia, but had started coming to the bathhouse to enjoy the facilities numerous times a week for the last six months, and was now (though not pain-free) able to get out of bed and get on with everyday life...a miracle for her. Double awesome. So then we headed to the last, and arguably my favorite room: the Mineral Fomentation room. For lack of a better description, it looked like some railroad ties had been set up on the tile floor in 6x4 "bed" shapes and filled with large red-brown marbles...marbles that turned out to be mineral-rich dried clay from the mountains of China. Japanese woman, Chinese mud, Korean bathhouse...tour of Asia! Anyway, you lie on - more like in - these toasty-warm marbles and sweat, and the sweat causes the minerals to stick to and supposedly be absorbed by your skin. You come out (particularly if you were lying in them neck-ed, like me!) coated in red-brown powder and looking like you've got a swell tan, but the best part is not the minerals...its just lying in them. They completely conform to your body. If they'd been deep enough, I'd have used them to replace my regular bed. It's like a temperpedic, only mineral-y! Aaaaaaaah.

So, anyway, it was getting close to 11:30, so we bopped back into the spa room after a quick stop off for some water. My number was called first, and I was a little worried that Jewels wasn't being called with me, but it turned out they'd whisked her away to another treatment room; she got the room that had only one bed, lucky duck, but still, I'm not complaining. I rounded a corner in the showering room into an area with three twin-sized massage-table-sans-headrest-type beds covered in thick clear plastic, drains underneath each bed. I was in the middle, and two women - one older white lady and a younger Korean girl - were on either side of me. My therapist was not a massage therapist so much as a therapy provider; there was no artful draping, and she was wearing a heavier-lace bra and underwear. (Makes sense...with all the water sloshing around, they need something they can get wet in, and something that dries quickly!) (If you bother arguing a swimsuit would work, I'm just going to roll my eyes at you.) So I lie down on this table, and the therapist begins her work scrubbing me to within an inch of my life.

If you've ever wondered what it would be like to scrub down your body with a dish scrubber - or maybe steel wool - this was it. I can't say it is for the faint of heart (especially because my shins were a little sunburned), and once or twice I wondered if she was going to draw blood in any given area, but looking at the radiant, beautiful skin of the elderly Korean women in the place, I was game for anything. My therapist donned a pair of mitts akin to loofah pads over her hands, doused me with a bowl full of heavenly warm water, and went to work. With the exception of my face and my, um, nether portions, she scrubbed EVERYTHING. Yes, EVERYTHING. Bum? Chest? Thighs?, you ask. Come on, didn't I already say everything? Even your boobs?, you say again...YES. EVERYTHING. And it's not all that bad.

Disclaimer: It is not in any way a sexual experience. It is a sensual experience, perhaps, letting your body take a serious scrub-down, but no matter what you're imagining (gentlemen) with an underwear-clad woman buffing my buns, it's not what you think. It's WAAAAY more fabulous.

So after she did my front, she told me to flip over, and...you know how, when you scrub the bottoms of your feet, you get all that nasty crumbly dead skin? Yeah. I was COVERED in it. So she rinsed me, did my back, rinsed me, did my sides, and then sent me to rinse at the shower while she sprayed off the table. And people, my skin was BABY soft. No, that's not true...I'm pretty sure it was softer than it was when I was a baby.

Anyway, I returned to the table, she positioned a towel alongside and under my face, neck, and chin so that I could lie comfortably, and doused me with warm baby oil from what I imagine was a ketchup-like squeeze bottle. Truly, if you've never had warm baby oil flow over your freshly-scrubbed skin, you have not lived. Oh my goodness. And then began the massage. And more massage. And smack-like pounding of various parts, which, I'm astounded to report, not only didn't hurt (like they sounded like they would), but forced that area of my body to instantly relax...almost like whatever was being smacked was scared into submission. She used her fingers, hands, elbows, forearms, and at one point she even climbed on my back and massaged my hips with her knees. And I did not bat an eye. It was too wonderful.

After the massage, she placed warm towels on various parts of me and kneaded those areas after the towels came off...then she lifted my head, put a warm towel under my neck, draped some sort of cotton or paper toweling or - something - under my chin and at my hairline, and proceeded to cover my face in what could only have been semi-frozen cucumber mush. It smelled fabulous and felt exquisite. After she was done with some more massaging, removed my face "mask", and had dragged me with my under-neck towel to the edge of the table, she actually shampooed, conditioned, and made a bun out of my hair. Every time I thought it couldn't possibly get better, it did. Then she sat me up (and had to...I was a giant lump by then) and had me rinse my face with a coconut milk mixture, which she then poured on me...and offered me some warm water to again rinse my face, then rinsed me one final time with the rest of the water. She helped me up, gave me back my shoes, patted me, smiled and offered her name (which, regrettably, I've forgotten, but it was short and started with a K, so I'll be asking after her again!) and sent me on my way.

When I ran into Jewels again, we giggled like giddy schoolgirls, jumped up and down, exchanged quick and excited "Did she...?" stories, and then I hugged her. And we were naked.

I told you, you really get over the naked thing super-quick. And if you don't, let's be honest, it just doesn't matter.

So we donned our robes once more and sat down for a $9.00 (cash-only, be prepared!) lunch at the juice bar...seaweed soup, kimchi, some sort of yummy pickle-type veggie, and a huge bowl of bulgogi (bbq Korean SUPER-tender, ULTRA-tasty beef) with rice underneath it, onion and carrot in it, and lettuce alongside it. It is also served with a semi-spicy sort of soy sauce to dump over the meat, if you so choose. I SUCKED IT DOWN. (No surprise there...it is ME we're talking about.) DIVINE. Hands-down, some of the very best bulgogi I have EVER eaten, EVER, and that's saying something. Yuuuuummmm.

We did our thing after the massage and lunch and ended up spending between 5 and 5 1/2 hours there that day, but it was some of the best time I've spent, both for myself and with my dear friend and sister-in-law Jewels, in months...maybe years.

See, my therapist didn't need soft music and dimmed lighting and artful draping to make this one of the very best, most beneficial health experiences I've ever had. She just needed to know what my body needed. My shell. That which houses my spirit. And she knew exactly what my body needed to treat it just right. I'm not arguing that my body is just a shell...quite the opposite...but I think we often treat our bodies like they are too sacred to let anyone else touch them, and that's so incredibly unfortunate. Humans thrive on touch, first of all, and second, our bodies do NEED things if they are to continue to happily, healthily, and comfortably house our spirits, and we often disregard those needs in favor of, I don't know, television, junk food, obsessive work, lack of exercise, disregard for lotions and tonics and all things restorative.

So for me, this experience was a revelation.

It was also so incredibly FREEING. The idea that I could walk around stark naked in full view of - and in close proximity to, and even close contact with! - other women was baffling at first. There was no one averting their eyes, but no one looking at me to compare my body to theirs, to judge my paunches, wrinkles, flab, stretch marks, saggy boobs, any of it...we were all just women, no one wearing anything to set them apart or impress upon you their superior taste, money, style, or shape. We were just women, all there to take care of ourselves. Because that was what was important: us as individuals, and us as a unified group of women. There WAS no playing field to level...no playing field at all.

I remember chatting with Julie while we watching a mother and daughter at a couple of the sit-down shower stalls helping to scrub each other down using the same little scrubby mitts that the therapists use and thinking "that is AWESOME...and something I doubt my mom and/or sister and/or mother-in-law and/or friends will ever do with each other." Why? Because in this world, today, we equate intimacy to sexuality, and sexuality to sexuality, but not intimacy to intimacy. We are so afraid of being thought of as lesbians or snobby or - whatever - that we're afraid to be close to another woman, and I find that that bleeds into our emotional relationships...not just physical closeness. Anyone else ever notice how hard it is to make a good girlfriend as an adult? And I'm not talking pick up on a lesbian, I'm talking becoming earnest friends with another female. How sad. If only we could all take a page from the Korean Bathhouse book...

Point is, it was one of the best times of my life, those 5 hours in the bathhouse. I wish my husband could be there to share it with me, but I'm almost glad he can't...it means I either go alone (more likely than not, all you squeamish twits!) and spend the time reflecting, or I go with a girlfriend and bond on a completely different, intimate-but-not-sexualized level, something I/we seldom get to do with other women.

How awesome, people. A-W-E-S-O-M-E, awesome. If anyone is up for it anytime soon, has a few hours to invest, and is willing to drop $89 for lunch and a complete day at the spa, let me know, because I am SOOOOO "in." And like Julie said, "After the first 2 minutes, you don't even notice you're naked." It's true. You're just reveling in being free to be yourself without judgement and take care of your body for the God-given gift it really is.

Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?

Real Quick...

2009-04-20T15:21:00.001-07:00

This weekend BIT, primarily because Jason had to work like the slave public accountants are expected to be, but on Saturday he took a couple-hour break so we could go as a family to rent a surrey-bike in Newport! (We also had dinner at my folks on Sunday, which did not bite...WE bit. Food. Anyway...)

Can I just say HOW FUN that is?!?! No? Well, I just did...it is SOOOOOO fun! Jason and I got to sit next to each other and pedal a surrey down the boardwalk (all the way from Balboa Pier to Newport Pier and back!) with Jason steering, and there was a bench-basket in front for the munchkins. I wish we'd had our camera with us, but I've included a stock picture so you get the idea.

It cost $25/hour for the size surrey we "drove", and avoiding boardwalk traffic was half the fun. I fear that Jason's side of the bike had to do most of the work because the steering column was attached, but it was still a great ride, the kids loved it, and I couldn't get enough of the people we passed by commenting on how cute our kids are and what an adorable family we have. (It's rough to be so stinking cute!)

Anyway, we returned about 10 minutes early, the kids had a blast, and it was an odd - but fun! - memory for us all. If you get a chance, fun times, people!

Fumbling Toward Our Goals - Easter

2009-04-12T08:45:00.000-07:00

Happy Easter, and hello to all our family, friends, and fellow bloggers!

Today, however, I'm experiencing a new degree of difficulty in feeling the spirit of Easter, rather like I did last Christmas. This is not the fault of faltering beliefs, but of selfish circumstance...which, unfortunately, doesn't really make it any easier.

You see, the Easter Bunny visited (minimally) last night, and my children have been coughing and coming to my side for nose wipes since discovering their baskets. My husband is in bed even as I type this, miserable with what we believe is an impending cold...the same cold of which I seem to be possessed. My throat (and presumably his, based on the every-other-hour "keeehk-keeeehk of throat spray being shot into his mouth during the night) (TANGENT WARNING: Cory introduced us to Cepacol, and bless her for it...if you're still relying on Chloraseptic to knock out throat pain, spend the $4 to swap to Cepacol and - after swallowing the wretched stuff and thinking momentarily that you made the wrong decision - revel in your complete pain relief!) (picking up with the tale...) feels as though a master carpenter has been performing sandpaper magic in it, my nose is - I'll spare you the details - disgusting, my head hurts, my eyes are weepy and gooey...and I think Jason is worse. My dad is ill, so we're not going to have Easter dinner at my folks' as planned. My sister has strep throat, so she and Victor won't be joining us, either. Oh, crap...speaking of which, I'll be right back. I still need to feed my family tonight, so it's time to go throw a chicken in the crock pot.

Okay, so half an hour has passed here, the chicken - and onions and carrots and potatoes - is in the crockpot, and I'm back. You (I hope) never left. Anyway, there will be no church today, lest we infect everyone within coughing range, there will be no egg hunt, for we never had the time or opportunity to color any, and our home is in such disarray we couldn't find the plastic ones for the baskets, let alone a hunt, we are all ill, and...basically, none of my goals have been met for Easter. I had even planned to bone and stuff and roll the chicken, all of which was abandoned when I learned that dinner would just be us tonight, and though I can't imagine any of us will have much appetite, the chicken required cooking, hence the crockpot. (I'll remove it from the crockpot and stick it under the broiler for 10 - 15 minutes for crispiness and browning later.)

Jason and I have some lofty goals, you see, none of which are coming to fruition, and most of which revolve around owning a home. Yes, we, like all other Americans, want very much to be homeowners. We, however, did not get ourselves into ARMs to attempt to live in a home we couldn't afford, only to expect the government to bail us out of the consequences for our stupidity. (This is not a political commentary...it's just frustration with the blatant stupidity of our generation.) We scrimped and saved and prayed and waited. Now we are in a position (almost) to purchase - somewhere - and would like to do so before December 1st to enjoy the tax credit, but we feel impotent to do so. Jason's work is here, and here is not an option.

We would like to have a garden...and raise chickens...and join a CSA (or two)... and learn home canning...and build food storage...and purchase a giant garage freezer to freeze the grass-fed cow we want to buy and split with our family or friends...and basically just opt out of the regular food market. But that means we need a home.

We would like to celebrate the holidays (particularly the religious ones) with great fanfare, decor, tradition and spirituality...and, apart from hoping to be healthy when that occurs in the future, let's be honest: it's really hard to feel all Christmas-y as an adult in a teeny little apartment where we live on top of each other...or to want to buy gifts - which equates to "more stuff" - when living in that same miniscule dump.

We would like to replace our furniture. Have our kids in their own rooms. Have a distinctly different area (or ROOM!) for our office, dining, laundry, cooking, and living. (A lot to ask, I know.) Have a home that doesn't contribute to our myriad illnesses.

Huh?, you ask. In the last week we have had the place sprayed for cockroaches (Jason did it once, and two days later the professional did it...) and have discovered and attempted to irradicate a(n un)healthy amount of MOLD in our bedroom and bathroom, thanks to the pathetically poor ventiliation in this forsaken hades. Neither of those things can possibly be good to breathe, right? Mold spores alone can kill you - slowly and painfully - and exposure to multiple types of roach death spray just cannot be good to inhale.

So here we are. It's Easter, and my kids don't know that at Easter time we dress up in beautiful Spring-oriented clothing and attend a worship service in honor of their Savior who rose from the dead. They don't know that at Easter we hunt for Easter eggs colored and bedecked by them on the kitchen table we don't own. They don't realize that there is more to Easter - family visits, special dinners, candy galore - than a cheap wicker basket with some plastic grass and an Easter bunny who leaves playdough and a chocolate bunny...oh, and that "Jesus died but isn't dead any more!", as quoted by my son after I spent half an hour attempted to explain the atonement and resurrection. (I guess that's not bad for 4, really.)

No fresh chicken eggs in the back yard requiring collection. No sacrament talks. No seperate bedrooms. No extended family celebration via egg hunt, scripture-reading, and grandiose dinner. Not even clean air to breathe...in our very own home. No wonder we've all been taking turns being sick the last number of months. Our "home" is killing us.

So I apologize for the pages-long whine...it's really just for me. I know that "someday" we'll own a home, "someday" we'll have to time and wherewithal and ROOM to do all the things that we both feel are so pressing and important...but that time is not now.

Now we're sick...on Easter...and have nothing to show for this most sacred of holidays except the few minutes we'll spend over dinner attempting to teach the kids more about the REAL "reason for the season". I know that's something - the most important something - but they'll be breathing toxic air while we do it, and eating a makeshift dinner that they can't taste, thanks to stuffy noses.

As always, we find ourselves fumbling toward our goals...and never really reaching that light at the end of the tunnel, which is constantly falling farther and farther back. Aaaaaah, depression on Easter. I think I'm gonna go take a prozac.

Happy Easter, everyone! Hope yours is better - and healthier! - than ours!

Can Anyone Relate?

2009-04-10T08:51:00.001-07:00

Before we get to the Korean Bathhouse, I have a question:

Does anyone else out there struggle in drinking milk?

I've never loved milk by any stretch, which is ironic considering the fact that my dad could just attach a long straw to a cow and have it follow him around - he loves the stuff - but I found it tolerable, and even pleasant when accompanied by oreos or chocolate chip cookies...until I married Jason.

Jason has always found the idea of milk disturbing. I mean, it's breast milk from a farm animal. That, and typically, adults of all species, including humans, generally build a lactose intolerance. Adult cats won't go near the stuff. And I don't know ANYONE who wants to be within a mile of a lactose-intolerant adult after they've eaten ice cream or drunk a glass of milk...at least not downwind, if you catch my drift.

Now, I LOVE CHEESE, in almost any form. (Not a big fan of cottage cheese or queso fresco, but pretty much anything else, including pasteurized processed Velveeta "cheese", is fair game.) I also happen to have a weakness for ice cream...particularly chocolate ice cream with a peanut butter ribbon swirl. Mmmmm, sweet AND salty............................................but back to the topic at hand. Butter, people, ROCKS, and I put heavy cream in anything that will hold it...and I DO realize that all of these things start with cow's milk (or sheep's milk or goat's milk or buffalo milk or...well, best to stop there).

But a couple months ago, I was at Whole Foods Market and jealously eyeing the Danish butter when something else caught my attention. To my GREAT DISMAY, Whole Foods was marketing something that grossed me out to within an inch of my life. Ready for this one?

Cow Colostrum.

I kid you not. Someone, somewhere, has decided that Cow Colostrum is good eats...or good to drink. Whatever. Either way, people...I've had two kids. I had to pump just to get anything to give to Tyler, who never learned to latch. He got (pumped) breastmilk for a month, and then my supply ran out overnight. But I remember that first time I pumped, and wound up with exactly 1 1/2 ounces of COLOSTRUM. It was nasty yellowish stuff and carried with it the most uniquely funky smell...and here I was at Whole Foods staring at it again. It had seperated and required shaking to redistribute it's "pure goodness", and it had a horribly yellow-gray tinge to it.

Yuuuuuuuuuuuuuummmmmmm. (Uh...what?)

That one experience served as a reminder to me that I might as well be breastfed directly by the cow, since that's what I'm drinking. It's just so far removed from the cow, thanks to a plastic jug and marketing expertise, that we don't really relate it to nursing. We drink cow breast milk. My dad may as well have been nursed at a cow udder these last 60-some years. I might as well eat an oreo and then turn my head to suck on a cow teat.

For some reason I find this incredibly disturbing. I suppose that if and when I'm able to raise my own cow, milk my own cow, and make my own butter and cheese and whatnot, it won't be so bad...and yes, I do hope to do those things, and not all that far into the future, Lord willing.

However, for now, though I still must occasionally cook with cow's milk, we've switched to soy milk. My father finds that repugnant. I think it's just a little thicker, a little sweeter, a little more golden-colored, and contains a lot more protein, and it's GREAT on cereal. It doesn't do much for me where cookies are concerned, but I'm not eating (too many) cookies these days, anyway. And Mikayla and I both suffer from lactose intolerance (me mildly, her miserably), so we're cutting down on cramping and contributing to greenhouse gases. (Maybe we're not; I just read The Omnivore's Dilemma, but more on that a few posts from now.)

Anyway, I'm wondering if anyone can relate to my grossed-out-edness. Does anyone else struggle when offered a tall, frosty glass of cow's milk? Anyone else cringe at the thought of being breastfed indirectly by the teat of a cow? Or am I the only one?

Your thoughts, please...

Julie's Visit

2009-04-08T18:49:00.000-07:00

Having Jewels here just sooooo totally rocked, people. No pressure, no "go here, do this, get this done, enjoy this, why don'tcha!" It was all about relaxing and only doing what we felt like doing, which at any given moment could be absolutely nothing.

Jewels left RooRoo with Mom&Dad2 and rode back with us all the way home, arriving in CA at the ungodly hour of about 3 in the morning. Needless to say, we slept - yes, we! (minus the kids, who should have!) until NOON, or close to it. (Okay, Julie did...we were up at 10:30.) :) That was Wednesday, which day was spent...shopping at Goodwill. Yes, Goodwill, and Julie found some awesome stuff...not to mention a $30 handbag. $30 at GOODWILL, you ask? Yes. And here's why: she bought an authentic, genuine Coach handbag - that perfectly matched her earlier splurge on a Coach wallet! - for $29.99. (We're guessing that purse retailed somewhere between $300-500 originally, and it was in brand new condition!) She found some other awesome things, bought ME a brand-new-looking leather coat (from Wilson's...100% tan suede leather!), and then we, in turn, bought little miss ReillyRooRoo a gigantic (sit-on-sized) white-and-pink stuffed Swan...in what ALSO appeared to be brand-new condition...with all sorts of fun little details, for exactly $1.50! The clincher on that one, though, was a particular detail: it had super-long curly eyelashes! AWESOME. And it'll go perfectly in her white, pink, and chocolate brown bedroom, heehee!

Thursday was kick-back as well, and other than hitting up the Anaheim Farmer's Market (and sharing a divine Nutella-and-banana crepe) and having dinner at Portillo's (of the famous Chicago-based Chicago dog chain) our big outting was Laguna Beach...pictures herein. See, Jason is auditing Montage Resorts right now (rough life, I know...) and is down there most everyday these days, looking out on the ocean from the converted hotel room, now an audit conference room. In fact, just yesterday morning he called me from "work" down on the beach as he was watching a humpback whale and a school of dolphins swim along the beach, the dolphins leaping through the waves and the whale spouting from its blowhole. I've been out WHALE WATCHING and never seen that! Sigh. Anyway, Julie. Yes. So, he took us to the beach adjoining the hotel, and we basked in the sunshine, played in the (first foot of the) waves, wandered the tidepools, took advantage of Jason's binoculars to inspect a flock of seagulls and a seal lying on the rocks, enjoyed a sandpiper racing back and forth in and out of the surf seeking sand crabs, and just generally had a blast. Tyler got DRENCHED, Julie was soaked from the thighs on down, Mikayla was terrified of the water and sand (so, the beach as a whole) and never left the blanket, but all around, we did what we planned: gave Julie some time at the water's edge, and she loved it. (Didncha, Jewels?)

Friday was a day unto itself, courtesy of the Korean Bathhouse, which will feature in my next blog entry, and we got to enjoy it child-free thanks to the Emergency Backup Care Plan at Jay's work: I took the kids to their day care center with their lunch, diapers, clothing changes, what have you, and they had a TOTAL BLAST for the entire, I don't know, 6 hours or so they were there. Oh, and did I mention it was free? And that I have 9 more check-ins per child through the end of the year to use whenever I need, for any reason? Yeah. Looooove it! So, thanks to Bright Horizons for my kid-free, happy-child day!

Saturday was super-laid-back, too...Jay, the kids, and I went to Bella's 3rd birthday party, where we were later joined by my folks, while Jewels went to see Roman for a complete hair overhaul (including cut and color). She stopped at my favorite nail salon on the way back for a spa mani and pedi, and returned with perfect, multi-faceted chocolate-blend hair color, an awesome stacked-and-layered cut, and hibiscus-bright matching nails with little white flowers on her big toes. Aaaaaaah, the refresh. :)

We were devastated to see her go on Sunday, but we know how eager she was to get home to her little Reilly, and how much she missed her (both parties), so we put our saddness in check and wished her a safe flight. She's now been home safe and sound for a week and and a half, and we look forward to the day that we can be closer.

The highlight, people, really was the Korean Bathhouse, and I'll get to that, but I want all you crazy squeemish anti-nudist girls to know...it's AWESOME. ABSO-STINKIN'-LUTELY AWESOME. Julie had been worried about what she was getting herself in to, but she will attest to the fact that after 2 minutes, no matter how embarrassed or tentative or modest you are, it just doesn't matter anymore. AWESOME, people, did I mention that? Because it was AWESOME. But more on that later. Enjoy the photos for now!

Courtesy of my Mom, on Obama

2009-04-06T11:22:00.001-07:00

"You cannot legislate the poor into freedom by legislating the wealthy out of freedom. What one person receives without working for, another person must work for without receiving. The government cannot give to anybody anything that the government does not first take from somebody else. When half of the people get the idea that they do not have to work because the other half is going to take care of them, and when the other half gets the idea that it does no good to work because somebody else is going to get what they work for, that my dear friend, is about the end of any nation. You cannot multiply wealth by dividing it."~~~~ Dr. Adrian Rogers, 1931

On Fatheads and Fathood

2009-04-06T08:29:00.000-07:00

It started out a nice, family-oriented conference weekend...until, that is, I microwaved some Cream of Wheat at around 6 PM yesterday evening for what was supposed to be my random, fill-my-belly dinner.

But I digress.

A few weeks ago, we got new neighbors. They're really nice people, of course...except when they're screaming the eff word at their 4 year-old son so they can be heard over their hard rock music at 11 o'clock at night shortly before they put him down to bed in the bedroom directly behind our bedroom wall in the room he shares with his gothic skinhead mustacheoed "uncle" who has been living with them since a few days after they moved in.

Aaaaaaaaah, apartment living.

So, guess who brought their cockroaches along with them, which cockroaches quickly migrated under our companion back patio wall into our kitchen? Yup, that would be the fatheads. In fact, I remember the day: my son screamed like a girl from out on the back patio while riding his trike, and as I opened my mouth to ask him (sternly) please not to scream like that (because, of course, shrieking like a girl is a much better way to be heard than just to yell "Mom!"), he followed up his scream with "Mom, there's a big bug by my bike!!!" It was a roach. I thought nothing further of it once the roach was dead...until we came back from AZ to face the infestation.

Yes, it's the infestation that ruined my microwaved Cream of Wheat dinner. As it nuked on the turntable deep in the microwave, my husband wrapped his arms around me and kissed me tenderly, and I leaned my head upon his shoulder to hug him for a moment more when...there, on top of the microwave, in the back corner, scurried not one but three nasty cockroaches...plus a baby cockroach.

Jason went berserk. Who could blame him? He faced infestations of all types on his mission, one of which was a cockroach infestation. (Admittedly, THOSE were Salvadoran cockroaches, averaging the size of his open palm and occasionally growing as large as his whole hand, but having your average American roaches in his adult home is to him every bit as repulsive.) So he went into action, stripping the cabinets and drawers of all their contents, cleaning everything to within an inch of its life, squashing three roaches where they stood, and spraying roach spray on every viable area...basically anywhere that doesn't regularly come into contact with food was fair game.

Before you worry about the health of our children, however, I whisked them away to my folks' house, where my simple dinner of Cream of Wheat rapidly became three chicken flautas with guacamole for dipping, courtesy of my parents' most recent trip to Costco.

Which, of course, leads me to fathood. Why is it that when I step on the scale in the morning and it reads five pounds more than usual, I'm sure that scale must be right and I am, indeed, a cow? (When it reads 10 or 15 pounds heavy, I shrug and figure it must not be reading right, but 5? 6? 7? 8 pounds? I'm a COW.) However, when the scale reads five pounds less than I believe it ought, I...(smash!)...GET...(BAM!)...REALLY...(whump!)...FRUSTRATED...(bash!)...with that STUPID...(SLAM!)...scale...(blam!)...TEASING ME!!!!! (THUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMP...sproing!)

Oops. Guess I got a little carried away.

After all, I ate three flautas WITH guacamole LAST NIGHT, and today I weigh half a pound LESS than I did yesterday morning! (stupidstinkingcoldheartedscalegrumblegrumblegrumble.) Heaven forbid that might actually be correct, right? Because when it comes to us girls and our weight, we never lose, only get fatter and fatter and fatter until we're officially part and parcel to the Fathood.

Not that half a pound is that big a deal. Which is my point. I freak out all over the scale for its inaccuracy when I think what I'm really doing is taking out my anger at my next door neighbors and my need, at 10:47 PM on a Sunday night, to ask them to turn down their shoot-'em-up movie after my husband has spent 3 hours killing their cockroaches in our apartment. It's not my scale's fault that my kitchen is infested...or that I chose to eat flautas at 7 PM...or that, even after eating flautas (and guacamole) at 7 PM, I weigh half a pound less today than I did yesterday.

It's the neighbors' fault. Mm-hm. Their fault that when we finally move from this place, we're going to have to comb our own belongings with a fine-toothed comb to make certain WE don't bring THEIR roaches to OUR new home.

And now for a plea: GET ME OUT OF HERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Report on Julie's visit after I scour our desk for cockroaches! Hold tight!

From Jess Garthe...

2009-04-02T10:54:00.000-07:00

In honor of the 44th President of the United States, Baskin-Robbins Ice Cream has introduced a new flavor; "Barocky Road".

Barocky Road is a blend of half-Vanilla, half-Chocolate, and surrounded by Nuts and Flakes. The Vanilla portion of the mix is not openly advertised and usually denied as an ingredient. The Nuts and Flakes are all very bitter and hard to swallow.

The cost is $100.00 per scoop. When purchased it will be presented to you in a large beautiful cone, but then the Ice Cream is taken away and given to the person in line behind you. Thus, you are left with an empty wallet, no change, holding an empty cone, with no hope of getting any Ice Cream.

Are you feeling stimulated?

Finishing up AZ

2009-03-31T18:24:00.000-07:00

So, Sunday and Monday were more or less "uneventful", which means we weren't "scheduled" to do anything but enjoy. In the "Alice" entry below, you'll see that we went to church and heard Mom and Dad speak, (and for those of you who know the intricasies of our ward, this is one of the first times I can remember REALLY communing with the Spirit in, well, YEARS!) and then headed back to Mom and Dad's to meet up with Stan and Katrina and Jason and Brandon and Zac and Jared and Crystal (all appearing at various times throughout the afternoon and evening) to enjoy some of Mom's always-phenomenal Pot Roast and some Molten Chocolate Cakes.

How my Mom-in-law manages to always make a perfectly-tasty, insanely moist-and-tender pot roast, I'll never know. I've watched, learned, taken notes, and duplicated to the best of my ability her technique...and still I fail. UGH. Must be a Polish thing.

Anyway, we got to spend a little more time with Crystal this trip, who I adore, and got some excellent shots of Brandon working his Ninja-esque magic, as well as Zac and his squeeze-them-'til-they-pop uber-cute cheeks! Monday we spent some time at the park, ate far too much Dairy Queen for a single week, and just had some quality bonding time with Mom and Dad. All told, it was a fabulous (and much-needed) break, and Jason came back (mostly) refreshed...and, dare I say, maybe a little more eager to give public accounting the boot, realizing that he could be spending ever so much more time with his own family. Sigh. It's a love-hate thing.

Oh, did I mention that Julie left Reilly with Mom and Dad and we brought her home with us on Tuesday night as a souvenir? Okay, maybe not a souvenir, per se, but a continuance of our vacation, and a beginning to hers. More on that to follow...and...DUM-DUM-DUUUUUUMMM...the Korean Bathhouse!!! (You KNOW you want to go!) Stay tuned!

More on AZ

2009-03-31T17:35:00.000-07:00

So Thursday was spent at Mom and Dad's and the Ostrich Farm, and Friday including more (much-needed) relaxing at Mom and Dad's...and then a trip up to Mesa to meet up with Stan (Jay's eldest brother), Katrina (second-to-elder sister) and her husband Jason (yes, she married a man with her brother's name...still weirds her out a little, too...), their baby Zac, and Ninja son Brandon, and Jay's next brother up, Keith and his wife Wendy. We went to a funky place off the 202 called the Kona Grill, and it was UBER-BUSY...but Stan, in his brilliance and infinite wisdom (and like the concierge he was, doing all the planning for our trip! THANKS AGAIN, STAN!!!) had made reservations, so we were seated in no time.

Foodie that I am, let me say a quick something about the Kona Grill: yuuuuuummmm. Sushi in AZ is expensive, of course, considering how far they are from the ocean, but that doesn't mean they don't do a good job of it! And as far as a sushi place that serves other food, well, this place is as versatile as a chameleon at the zoo. My sis-in-law Wendy is the first to admit that her appetites for the odd are, shall we say, limited? so she's never been eager to head out to dinner with the group when we go for sushi...but the Kona Grill fixed that. She had pizza, we had sushi, the pizza was good (or so I hear) AND the sushi was good, and...TADA! Everyone was happy, and we got to enjoy Wendy's company AND sushi, all in the same meal!

I will say, though, that I saw a lot of CA in AZ at the Kona Grill: one of the host girls must've had a Beverly Hills plastic surgeon for her boob job, (uh...WHOA!) and, like any CA guy, one of the AZ sushi chefs had a thing for check-you-out eye-contact. (Okay, check me out. Not that I really minded. That doesn't happen very often.) I noticed years ago - within months of starting at the Y, actually - that the CA male's propensity for triple-takes is unique to Californians. In other words, when flirting, a CA guy will look, and look again, and look again, and make it really obvious that he's looking. A UT boy will NOT. In fact, you could end up marrying the same guy who didn't once present a single clue until you were engaged that he found you even mildly attractive. Not so with a Californian...or an Arizonan, it seems. Huh. NOW I learn that! (Again, not complaining!)

Anyway, after dinner it was back to K&W's to pick up the munchkins, then off to Stan's with Brandon for a semi-slumber party, complete with Wall-E and Stan's homemade cookies.

The next morning was a minor bust...poor Stan had planned for us all to head to an air show out in Glendale (?), and it ended up being a total impossibility: over 100,000 people showed up in that 2 horse town, and after the drive out there, a mad wait in tons of traffic, and winding up aghast at the parking-and-tram-and-security-checkpoint situation, we gave up and headed to Pete's Fish and Chips.

And since I'm a foodie, allow me for just a moment to wax poetic about Pete's. You see, we MUST go to Pete's Fish and Chips every time we go to AZ, or it's just not a trip to AZ. Their fish is this wonderfully crunchy, wonderfully flaky, wonderfully un-fishy, wonderfully SQUARE deep-fried treat...with a dipping sauce I'd kill for. (Okay, maybe break a few arms for.) I'm still trying to put it together, exactly, but I'm guessing it's a mix of ketchup, apple cider vinegar, and either Frank's hot sauce or some red pepper flakes. Not sure, but I'll figure it out at some point, and when I do...ooooooooooooohhh, that'll be the DAY.

Then it was back to K&W's to relax a little and meet up with Jewels (Jay's elder sister), who drove up from Tucson with Reilly, and Jared and Crystal, Jason's younger brother and his girlfriend. From there we headed to a park where we met up with Mom and Dad and had a family picnic full of good times, good food, and noodle salad. (See As Good as it Gets.) We also celebrated Jason (Rogers), Stan, and (our nephew) Josh's birthdays, and got to see little Reilly's Cake Drunk expression when her mom finally stuck a forkful of frosting-coated cakey goodness in her little bird mouth.

A truly wonderful time was had by all...particularly our kids, who were THRILLED to be surrounded by familial playmates.

Anyway, please enjoy the picnic photos, and stay tuned for the rest of our vacation!

The Ostrich Farm

2009-03-30T10:35:00.000-07:00

While in AZ, Mom and Dad took us to the Ostrich Farm at Picacho Peak. (FYI, for those who've been asking, yes, I use the terms Mom and Dad for both my parents AND Jay's parents, but if I'm talking about AZ, it's the Bradshaw Mom and Dad, generally speaking!)

OH MY GOSH.

Okay, first off, those ostriches are SCARY. No, really. They're enormous, very strong, VERY eager for the pellets you have to feed them, and they have a pretty long reach, even from well behind the fence.

But I digress. You pay $5 admission - which includes a big cup of pellet-style food to feed the ostriches, deer, (yes, deer!) and mini donkeys, and a little cup of "nectar" for the lorikeets - and enter facing the ostriches, which is inevitably where everyone heads first. And they're huge. Did I mention that already?

So if you're a pansy, you dump some food into the funnels outside the fence and watch them peck like crazy at the feeding trough into which it the funnels empty. If you're as brave as Mom and Dad, however, you put a piece of that pellet stuff into your (VERY) outstretched palm as low as you can get their heads to go, and they peck at your palm to eat. And it hurts a little. Really, right now, open your palm and give it a good pinch with the other hand. It's not all that easy to pinch, but somehow those giant beaks manage to pinch your palm as they go for the food. It's not terribly painful, of course, but you may jump back a little in surprise. Seriously.

When you're done being wowed by the Scekzy/Big Bird crosses, there are deer to your left and donkeys to your right. The deer are beautiful, of course, and it's a unique experience to be hand-feeding animals that you generally find prancing through the forest. Bambi's mom, of course, was shot by hunters, as I tearfully reexperienced while watching Bambi with the kids at Mom and Dad's, so she was not present at the feeding area...but 3 or 4 dozen other deer were! One of the most amazing things about the deer to me, though, was that their pens - part of which were long, plastic-coated wires suspended between posts - had given them a neck-shave; it seems that when they stick their heads and necks through the wire, over time they rub off the plastic coating, and then over time that bare wire rubs the fur off their necks. Beautiful animals, of course, but that made me just a little sad...and I expended the majority of my feed on them.

The donkeys were adorable. We're talking ADORABLE. Feeding them was like placing your hand under a live soft-bristle brush. And they had these sweet little faces...seeing them next to the sweet little faces of my children, well, it was wonderful. Unfortunately, though, I think they mini donkeys get shafted; they have to compete with the insanity of the ostriches, the "oh my gosh!" factor of the deer, and the lorikeets. And when it comes to lorikeets, there IS no competition.

A lorikeet on your arm is like have a rainbow land on you: too cool. You bring in these (capped!) little cups of liquid and just hang on, because the next thing you know, the lorikeets have landed on you and are using their beaks to flip the lids off! They lap that stuff up faster than me with chocolate, and that's saying something! For some odd reason, they were particularly attracted to Jason's hair. I'm wondering if they thought the little gray bits were nesting materials. (Sorry, Jason!) They landed on his head, pecked at the side of his head, hung out around his collar...I don't know, maybe his hair just smelled really good. Either way, it was hysterical...more so when he got worried about them pooping on his head and tried to get them off. Those buggers can peck! The kids were impressed, Dad was inundated (primarily because he did a fabulous job FOOLING the birds into THINKING he had containers of nectar!) and it was all-around a very cool experience. Plus, the kids were free (we gave them our food), so all told for our little family of four, it cost about $10. I highly recommend it to you AZ'ers passing by Picacho Peak. (That, and the DQ on the other side of the freeway. YUM! Who knew you could fill up on half a basket of fries and fried shrimp?!)

Enjoy the photos, and more tales to come!

One for the Twilighters

2009-03-30T08:48:00.001-07:00

So while in AZ we attended my folks'-in-law's ward in Casa Grande where they were both speaking that day. (Needless to say, they gave EXCELLENT talks; they are temple workers and got to speak about the value and blessings of the temple, and it was AWESOME.)

For those of you who know me well, you know my collection of wigs is, well, extensive, and that Sundays - particularly 9 AM church sessions - are easier-met by me when my hair can look fabulous without my expending ANY effort...in other words, I pull on a wig cap, plop on a wig, and VOILA!, fabulous hair in under 2 minutes. Mom and Dad have church at 9 AM. Therefore, I came prepared:

I confess, it helps to be able to match my clothes to my hair instead of trying to figure out what I'm going to wear and then do my hair to look nice. When I packed, I picked a wig, then picked an outfit to go with it. It just so happens that I picked a thrift store/Target outfit from top to bottom...the shoes were on clearance at Target for $8, the skirt is from Express and cost me $6 from the local Goodwill, which also provided the blouse...but it's not just ANY blouse. It is a bebe Collection blouse I got for $4...AND IT STILL HAD THE TAGS ON IT! I'm not into labels, per se, but I've learned, courtesy of Cory, that expensive clothing is, nine times out of ten, MUCH better-made and longer lasting, and this shirt sure was expensive (originally)...the (STILL ON!) tag read $189.00!!!!!!! Anyway, my whole outfit cost me about $18 ($20 with tax), which, after shipping, was less than I paid for the wig!

So here I am at church, and what does this have to do with Twilight? Uh huh. You know where it's going...

Sweet little teen girl approaches me (with caution) and asks, "Um, excuse me, have you ever by chance read Twilight?"

I'm blinking in confusion, thinking "Hated it," but replied, "Yes, as a matter of fact, I've read all four books."

So she smiles a little and looks all embarrassed and says - and, people, this is perhaps the single greatest compliment I've ever received from a stranger in my entire life! - "I just had to tell you that you look just like what Alice should have looked like in the movie."

I swear, I almost hugged her.

No, I'm not as svelt as I'd like, (worse since being on vacation...Audrey, I read that you can relate, and I feel your pain,) and I'm a little paler than I'd prefer, and I'm aging, it's true...but to be compared to a perfectly beautiful, delicate little vampire girl with impeccable taste? All of a sudden I find myself not hating Twilight QUITE so much.

No, wait, scratch that...I still hate it. I just don't object to being compared favorably to the mental image of a romantic teenager's stunning vampire girl. Don't mind that AT ALL.

Remind me to wear that outfit again, will you?

INFESTATION!!!

2009-03-30T08:40:00.001-07:00

Um...well...actually...do three cockroaches in five days count as an infestation? Because I'm beginning to think so.

Maybe I'm jumping the gun...just a little. Maybe it takes one a day to be a true infestation. But doesn't three in the same apartment in under 120 hours suggest a serious problem...at least looming???

Anyway, it's official: I've killed three in the last five days as of this morning. Did anyone else know that they could hang UPSIDE DOWN underneath a desk? Makes me wonder if one will leap onto my knee when I'm sitting at the dinner table tonight. Nastiness.

At the same time, at least I didn't wind up with one crawling out of the drain in my bathtub, like my friend Audrey (as per her comments on my last roach-related entry...check it out.) EEEEEEWWWWW.

Okay, enough with the roaches already (literally and figuratively). AZ reports start in just a few minutes! Oh, and speaking of Audrey...and Teresa, and Jared & Kathy, and the half-dozen other people I grew up with that I didn't call when we were there...I'm sorry. We were just so wrapped up in family stuff...well, anyway, I'll be sure to phone next time!

Wall-E and the Roach

2009-03-29T16:40:00.000-07:00

Tyler loves Wall-E. (We're back, by the way, and more on that asap!) I think the little roach in Wall-E that springs right back to life every time he's run over is adorable. In fact, I can still hear Eve chuckling as said roach roams through her circuitry.

That said, in the last 4 days, I have killed 2 roaches in my own home.

NOT adorable.

Never had roaches before, though I confess, we had one in the kitchen once sometime last year, and that was shortly after I'd seen another down by the elevator, but since then? Nothing. And I was hoping to keep it that way.

Not so today. Roach # 2 reared its ugly head on my desk as I sat down at the computer anticipating an hour or so of blogging. I chased that bugger around the desk until it fell to the floor where I summarily crushed it with a folder...only to see it run when I lifted the folder off the carpeting. I should have known better - never try to kill an insect on carpeting! - but I kept at it, beating it again, smushing it with the flat of my hand between carpet and folder, then lifted the folder to watch it scurry toward the table. A third squashing left a dead roach on my carpet...or so I thought. I turned around again to see the hobbled, dirty little beast making its way as quickly as it could under the desk, where it finally met its end (or, rather, lost its end) thanks to my chair leg. I went to scoop it up with a tissue, of course, only to see it drag what was left of its back end farther from my looming form, and scooping with a tissue rapidly became crushing with a tissue.

And I'm afraid of spiders. Aaaaah, the irony.

Wall-E's roach? Cute. Roach in my home? DIE, NASTY LITTLE BUGGER, DIE!!!!!!!

More soon. After all, I've got two weeks of AZ and Julie here to catch up on...not to mention the Korean Bathhouse! (DUH-DUH-DUUUUUUUUMMMM.) Stay tuned!

AZ Trip

2009-03-18T12:44:00.000-07:00

Yeah, not yet. We're leaving this evening, but I've still got all the stuff to do that I didn't get done in the last couple days to get ready, including some packing, foodstuffs, car swaps (we're taking my parents' [THANK YOU!] van), you name it. And why didn't I get it done? Because TYLER WAS SICK, OF COURSE!

No, I'm NOT kidding. Life is just that cruel. Oh, did I mention BOTH of our DVD players broke within 36 hours of each other and 12 hours of Tyler getting sick? The attached photo is of my sweet son - and Bella and Miss Magoo - enjoying (primarily He-Man, originally dubbed "Ho-Man" by my son, since corrected to "Hey Man"...can't win) shows on Hulu on the tilted computer screen while lying on a bed of stuffed animals, pillows, blankets, and a sleeping bag. Desperate times call for desperate measures, and when your son's fever is 102.5 and he has no DVD player, you start feeling just a little bit desperate.

To add insult to injury, for the first time in my life, my undereye area on my left eye is puffy. Looks like I got punched in the face, actually. I know no one feels any pity, and you've all suffered it before, and BooHoo, Jessica has a puffy undereye, but it's just one more thing where I'm thinking to myself, "Aging sucks." Now where's that cucumber...? (And don't tell me you don't see it in that picture. I see it, and that's what matters.)

Kim explained to me today that I am so expertly managing to incur a massive acne breakout and new crow's feet wrinkles at the same time because I am a) getting old(er), and b) my genetic propensity for oily skin and zits sucks. I thought having oily skin would prevent dried-out wrinkles, but she reminded me that wrinkles don't come from dried-out skin, but from a loss of collagen production.

In other words, I need acne meds AND collagen injections. That, or I could just learn to age gracefully, I suppose...Riiiiiiiiiiiiiight.

And then there's what I learned from Cory about the easy way to tell a woman's REAL age: just look at her neck and upper chest (decollete). Seriously, try it. No one moisturizes there, and everyone exposes it to the sun, (at least women,) so I'm making a concerted effort to start moisturizing that area...10 years too late. Sigh.

Well, enough of this...time to go get some stuff ready to, well, go. More posts in a couple weeks!

Check Out...NINJA BRANDON!!!

2009-03-16T21:40:00.000-07:00

Okay, I have some seriously cool nephews. (Neices, too, of course, but right now I'm talking guys.) The older ones, especially, because they've had so much extra time to become so cool.

Take, for instance, Brandon, my Ninja Nephew. Oh-My-Holy-Freakin'-Cow, CHECK THIS OUT! He leapt, like, 10 feet in the air and was unwittingly caught by some kid with a camera phone trying to take down a sneering wanna-be ninja kid.

Well, okay, so it was like 5 feet in the air, and it had to have been a pretty good digital camera, and they happened to be step-cousins he was hanging out with, but that's all ENTIRELY BESIDE THE POINT. I mean, SERIOUSLY, CHECK IT!!!

SOOOOO...A big warm, icky-miserable-schloppy-kiss THANKS! to Brandon for including us lone CA Bradshaws on the photo of a lifetime, and we can't wait to see y'all this week! (Barring any further family illness; Tyler's temp randomly hit 102 this afternoon, so keep us in your prayers!)

Sensitivity

2009-03-12T08:50:00.000-07:00

In this particular case, like mother, like son.

I was always a really sensitive kid. Okay, make that kid, tween, teen, and sometimes adult. Hey, I'm a Cancer, that's how I'm supposed to be, right?

Anyway, I was easily embarrassed, squirmed (or just plain shut down) when corrected - particularly by any "authority" outside my family - and sobbed when criticized by peers, and was often possessed of tummy aches and tiredness when found to be doing anything "wrong," even if I didn't know it was wrong.

Enter my sweet son. It was incredibly simple, really, and he's never had a problem at school before, and this wasn't necessarily a problem, either...but it does give me insight into myself.

Yesterday a new toy - a racetrack, to be specific - was introduced at school. He was THRILLED. Apparently that kept his attention for quite some time...even through my arrival. Not that he hadn't heard his name called or been informed that his mom was there; he'd heard and he new, but he was excited and didn't want to stop playing. When one of the teachers approached to kneel next to him and remind him to listen because it was time to go, he brushed past and said he couldn't talk because his mom was there.

In other words, he didn't want to be scolded, not that that would have been a scolding. He knew he'd heard, he knew what he was supposed to be doing, and he didn't want to discuss it.

Another teacher caught him and told him it was important to stop and listen to the teacher no matter what was happening, and he immediately shut down. He wouldn't look at her, speak to her, or give any signs of life, really. When the first teacher approached to talk to him again (I was holding him by this time, and he was dead weight in my arms and on my shoulder), I turned so he had to at least face her and she explained that he is a really good listener, but even if the toy is really fun, he still needs to stop playing when his mom comes, and reminded him the toy would be there tomorrow to play with. No response from him.

On the way to the car I held him (and Miss Magoo summarily biffed on the concrete, so I ended up holding her, too, of course) and talked to him a little. I asked him if his feelings were hurt, and he nodded in my shoulder. I asked him if he had a tummy ache when a teacher had to talk to him about listening, and he nodded again.

Just like his mom, poor kid.

So of course I did all the "we love you" reminding, and the "please listen" requesting, and the "you're not in trouble" reassuring, and a few minutes later he was fine, but the point, at least for me, was that my son and I are more alike than I sometimes realize. That, and I re-learned the lessons I have learned over the past 30 years:

There's no point being embarrassed.
It's okay to recognize and own up to your mistakes, and those wise folks trying to help you see those mistakes really mean no harm.
Shutting down, getting a tummy ache, or needing a nap is a natural response.
It's the best-behaved kids - and the perfectionists - who have the hardest time with correction.

I just hope it doesn't take Tyler 30 years to pick up on the same things...

Cold & Flu Season...REALLY?!?!

2009-03-10T07:41:00.000-07:00

Kids have colds again...petering out as I type this, of course, but colds nonetheless.

I did say AGAIN, didn't I?

So that's Mikayla ahead of the rest of us, having had the flu twice...Tyler and I still standing at only once...and Jason falling behind, having escaped the flow of vomit.

Tyler and Mikayla are tied for first in the cold realm, however, finishing up their third - count them, 3!!! - bout of stuffy-head, coughing, sneezing, and basically gooing all over everything, while I've only had a cold twice thus far, and Jason? Yeah. He kinda-sorta had a cold for a day or two there.

But seriously, everyone I know has been sick this (late in the) flu season. Bridget's got a cold. My folks have been trading it back and forth for weeks. Kim and Bella are praying it doesn't hit...again. Cory's family has been passing it around, too...so basically, if you have kids or you're around kids, you've been nailed this season.

Sometimes I wonder if maybe there is some sort of really awful disease being developed as a weapon by a terrorist group that our government has been made aware of and their method of dealing with it is to infect the entire nation with a teeny-tiny dose of the illness to build their people's immunity, and that's why people sometimes die of the flu or from colds-turned-something else. Conspiracy theorists, GO! But really, all those flu strains? They're just the next crazy disease someone in a lab is putting together to kill us all, and the CDC is just as busy trying to counter them.

Yeah, yeah, I'm full of it, but you have to admit, I have a pretty awesome imagination.

Anyway, we're well on the way to a full recovery (at least for the next 3 days, until someone picks up some sort of NEW bug!) and should be a go for an AZ trip a week from tomorrow! So Bradshaws (and Rogers and Robbins), prepare yourselves, because the CA Bradshaws are (almost) on the way!

Be a Winner

2009-03-06T13:15:00.000-08:00

My friend Audrey posted this today. I just found it today, but I found it in time. Perhaps you've seen this before. I've run into this before, but I've always been too late, but not this time! So, the first five of you to respond (and follow all the other rules) to this will be hooked up. Here's the rules:
The first five people to respond to this post will get something made by me! My choice. For you. This offer does have some restrictions and limitations: 1. I make no guarantees that you will like what I make for you! 2. What I create will be just for you. 3. It'll be done this year. 4. You have no clue what it's going to be. It may be a card. It may be a scarf or maybe even some creation I haven't yet dreamed up. I may draw. I may bake you something and mail it to you. It may not be big or impressive. Who knows? Not you, that's for sure! But lets be honest here. This is me and I will likely do something amazing. =) So come on, sign up! 5. I reserve the right to do something extremely strange.
The catch? Oh, the catch is that you must re-post this on your blog and offer the same to the first 5 people who do the same on your blog. The first 5 people to post this same blog on their blog and leave a comment telling me they did will win a FAB-U-LOUS homemade gift by me! Let's keep the chain of love going around!!
AND, if you weren't one of the first five, feel free to post about how devastated you are because you realize how cool I am and you wish you could've gotten some really sweet loot from me. Or you could just post and tell me you think I'm funny or cute. You can only tell me I'm cute if you're a girl or my husband might get mad. He won't get jealous though 'cause he's not like that. In fact, it's really quite hard to make him mad even. Anyway, post away!

BTW, I didn't actually write any of the above except part of the first paragraph, so no, I'm not really that big a self-involved twit...much. :)

Aaaaaaah, Controversy...

2009-03-06T08:20:00.000-08:00

Got the following from my mom, and whether or not it is real and true (though my guess is, knowing the OC papers, it's real and true), I liked it and want to share. Enjoy your daily dose of controversy!

Orange County California Newspaper

This is a very good letter to the editor. This woman made some good points. For some reason, people have difficulty structuring their arguments when arguing against supporting immigration revisions. This lady made the argument pretty simple. NOT printed in OC..............

Newspapers simply won't publish letters to the editor which they either deem politically incorrect (read below) or which do not agree with the philosophy they're pushing on the public. This woman wrote a great letter to the editor that should have been published; but, with your help it will get published via cyberspace!

From: 'David LaBonte' My wife, Rosemary, wrote a wonderful letter to the editor of the OC Register which, of course, was not printed. So, I decided to 'print' it myself by sending it out on the Internet. Pass it along if you feel so inclined. Written in response to a series of letters to the editor in the Orange County Register:

Dear Editor: So many letter writers have based their arguments on how this land is made up of immigrants. Ernie Lujan for one, suggests we should tear down the Statue of Liberty because the people now in question aren't being treated the same as those who passed through Ellis Island and other ports of entry.

Maybe we should turn to our history books and point out to people like Mr. Lujan why today's American is not willing to accept this new kind of immigrant any longer. Back in 1900 when there was a rush from all areas of Europe to come to the United States, people had to get off a ship and stand in a long line in New York and be documented . Some would even get down on their hands and knees and kiss the ground. They made a pledge to uphold the laws and support their new country in good and bad times. They made learning English a primary rule in their new American households and some even changed their names to blend in with their new home.

They had waved goodbye to their birth place to give their children a new life and did everything in their power to help their children assimilate into one culture. Nothing was handed to them. No free lunches, no welfare, no labor laws to protect them. All they had were the skills and craftsmanship they had brought with them to trade for a future of prosperity.

Most of their children came of age when World War II broke out. My father fought along side men whose parents had come straight over from Germany , Italy , France and Japan. None of these 1st generation Americans ever gave any thought about what country their parents had come from. They were Americans fighting Hitler, Mussolini and the Emperor of Japan. They were defending the United States of America as one people.

When we liberated France , no one in those villages were looking for the French-American or the German American or the Irish American. The people of France saw only Americans. And we carried one flag that represented one country. Not one of those immigrant sons would have thought about picking up another country's flag and waving it to represent who they were. It would have been a disgrace to their parents who had sacrificed so much to be here. These immigrants truly knew what it meant to be an American. They stirred the melting pot into one red, white and blue bowl.

And here we are in 2008 with a new kind of immigrant who wants the same rights and privileges only they want to achieve it by playing with a different set of rules; one that includes the entitlement card and a guarantee of being faithful to their mother country. I'm sorry, that's not what being an American is all about. I believe that the immigrants who landed on Ellis Island in the early 1900's deserve better than that for all the toil, hard work and sacrifice in raising future generations to create a land that has become a beacon for those legally searching for a better life. I think they would be appalled that they are being used as an example by those waving foreign country flags.

And for that suggestion about taking down the Statue of Liberty , it happens to mean a lot to the citizens who are voting on the immigration bill. I wouldn't start talking about dismantling the United States just yet.

Rosemary LaBonte

Catching Up...Again

2009-03-02T14:20:00.000-08:00

Who says the market is suffering? Albeit he didn't want it, Jason got a job offer today...for $30k more than he's making now. Why doesn't he want it? Well, the company he'd be working for, for one, but most importantly, it's HERE, in Southern California, and WE WANT OUT.

In other news, I'm writing a book. Sorry to go all Stephanie Meyers on you guys, but hey, I had an idea and I'm running with it. Check back...oh, a couple months from now, when I have more than the first couple chapters.

Mikayla learned, thanks to a petting zoo in San Juan Capistrano, that you shouldn't pick up a Muppet (ie bunny rabbit) by the throat because they tend to flail and scratch in an attempt to unblock their own windpipes. She has a tiny scratch on her face and quite a few small scratches on both arms. Sometimes we have to learn the hard way that Mom is right.

Tyler's loving preschool, and loving having Bella over Monday and Wednesday afternoons for a couple-hour playdate. Most of his friends are girls...I think it's the eyelashes...though he does have a host of rough-and-tumble boy buddies as school. One of them asked his mother last week if he could get glasses too, just like Tyler. And I was worried he'd get teased for his glasses! Too cool.

I've realized something about no longer being on Facebook...I don't want to be that accessible! We, people, are the last generation ABLE to escape finding...the last age group who only reconnect with people with whom we WANT to reconnect. We are also the last generation who can comfortably say we've moved on and maintained ONLY the connections we've selected. And I think that's incredibly healthy. Maybe others have no regrets, or have loads of time to waste on Facebook, even if it's only 3 minutes a day, and want to put themselves out there to hook up with their best friend from 6th grade...but I also wonder how many relationships and/or marriages have been ruined by people "reconnecting." Anyway, I'm glad to be among the last of the Gen Y'ers (I missed Gen X by 5 - 10 years, I think) who can maintain old friendships that I CHOOSE to maintain, who isn't competing like a high school girl to see how many friends I can make (or how many I can reject), and who makes friendships NOW that are appropriate to my age and stage in life.

Little rant.

Anyway, Jason is taking some time off work the middle of this month...and rather than invest it in what we'd originally thought, for those in the know, we are reconsidering and may be taking a short family vacation, probably including a visit to AZ. So, Phoenix/Casa Grande/Tucson, look for use mid-month-ish...probably the weekend of the 19/20/21, but there will be more details to follow as we get closer and actually make PLANS.

I'm including a few San Juan photos herein for your visual pleasure...so enjoy! (It was our "entire" CA family, including my folks, sister and hubby, and me, Jay and the kids...good times!) (The significance of the ring and pennies, by the way, is that my sister randomly decided to see if a couple of pennies fit inside her husband's titanium wedding ring. They did. And then she couldn't get them out. Did I mentioned the ring is titanium? But then my husband came to the rescue. Victor made a crack about "how many men does it take to get 2 pennies out of 1 titanium wedding band?" "Three. The husband, his father-in-law, and his brother-in-law!")

And honestly, I have nothing more intelligent to report at the moment, except that homemade pesto spread on a hunk of ciabatta, then topped with fresh tomato slices and 1/4" hunks of fresh buffalo mozzarella and dipped in balsamic vinegar make just about the best sandwich EVER. TALK about a cheese sandwich!

Love to all, and hopefully more soon!

I Must've Forgot to Mention...

2009-02-27T17:51:00.001-08:00

Roman is a genius.

Who is Roman, you ask? My stylist. He does my hair...my husband's hair...has done my sister's, my sister-in-law's, a woman from church I sent to him...you name it, he's on it. Even my mom wants to go to him, and I hope she does because he's fabulous. Wonderful. Terrific. And straight, which amazes me, but is completely beside the point.

Anyway, my hair was in need of some help. I've been letting it grow out for some time, and it doesn't seem to have gotten any longer, but Jason (and Roman) pointed out that the last time I went it, he cut it pretty short to even it out (and get rid of the A-line, which is still my favorite cut), so it's taking a while to grow long again. To give it some shape, he put some layers into it. And Jason loves it, and for that matter, so do I. Because Roman is a genius. See? (FYI...the photos are totally untouched, so don't look too closely...at me.)

Good stuff. (I was headed to the gym right after that, hence the outfit, but lemme tell ya, it held up until I showered. GENIUS!) Love that guy. Anyone looking for a stylist? Because lemme tell ya, I've got one for you!!! (And he's actually very reasonably priced considering what he could get in Beverly or Newport or where-have-you!) Just ask, and his info is yours! LOVE that guy!!!