Tuesday, November 30, 2010

A request

"Please sir....I want some mo'ah."

If a boy this cute handed you a beater, what would you do with it?

I Accidentally Woke Up....and Other Sad Stories

It's all Josh's fault really - he slept on the wrong side of the bed because I'd "had it up to HERE with this day!" and he was still doing homework.

So when the alarm went off, he asked "snooze or off" and I picked snooze.

When it went off again 2 minutes later, I got up. Went to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, got dressed and sat down in front of the computer to put my shoes on.

Then I checked the clock to see how late I was.

Negative 25 minutes.

Apparently Josh set HIS alarm for 5 and I set mine for 5:25, only I woke up with his alarm and he has yet to wake up to my alarm.

Why don't I just go back to bed? Because my shoes are on and my mouth is minty fresh.

Also my dishes aren't clean and my toenails aren't properly polished.

I think it's going to be a sad day, because I literally woke up on the wrong side of the bed.

Monday, November 29, 2010

Bubbah and Grandpa Reilley

I've heard that musical talent skips a generation.

Technically Tommy has exactly zero of Grandpa Reilley's genetic makeup. But I swear Josh inherited so many of his "dad's" qualities it's scary.

I think it's fair to assume we have a concert pianist on our hands. Agreed?

Sunday, November 28, 2010

Here comes the snow do do do do dooo

It started early this morning,
Which is why I was grateful when Josh snuck outside and scraped/warmed the car while I did my hair.

It continued through my morning meeting,
Which is why I did one tiny little donut in the church parking lot before it was full.

It didn't slow down during church,
Which is why Bubbah sputtered and gasped all the way out to the car.

It kept up during the drive to Kearns,
Which is why I sunk knee deep when I tromped across Misty's front lawn.

It froze to the road on the way home,
Which is why Josh never went more than 40 mph on the freeway.

It has officially covered the neighborhood in the most beautiful blanket of white there ever was.
Which is why I'm drinking hot chocolate and listening to Christmas songs by my tree.

Magical Moments

I've always planned on being a mother, so I've been imagining some specific moments in my life as a mother since I was a little girl. (Pathic? Probably. True? Definitely.)

It's mostly the simple things - things I've seen my mom (and other moms) do.
A child balanced on his mother's hip, while something is cooking on the stove and the phone balanced in the crook of her neck with the cord wrapped around her.
Walking the halls at church while the little one holds the fingers of the mom.
A toddler comes crying to his mother because of a skinned knee, and she crouches down as he runs into her arms.
A mom brushes her little boy's hair out of his eyes, and kisses his forehead and whispers that she loves him.
A baby snuggles into his mother's chest while she gently rocks him back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.
A giant gangly teenage man-child throws his arm around his mother's shoulder and she holds him up, because no matter how big he gets, she can always hold him up.

But then there are the big moments.
The first day of school.
The birthday cake.
The wedding day.
The riding of the bike.
The newborn midnight feedings.

I'll admit that I have (and probably will continue to) intentionally set the stage so I can have some moments worth remembering.

When I look back at midnight feedings, I get to remember sitting in my rocking chair, looking up through the closed blinds at the moon while my little one sleeps sweetly in my arms and the lullabyes and smells of baby powder surround us. That's because I staged that moment and burned it in my memory forever. I use baby powder because it smells good. I put the rocking chair where I could gaze up at the stars at night. I turned on the music because I wanted to remember it. So it might be lame, but I want some of those moments to be exactly as I imagined them. And some of them are.

Yesterday it was the first real steps. Not the ish steps. The straight out of a movie, from mom to dad, with the Christmas tree glowing in the background, two wobbly steps and a fall forward into the arms of the parent steps. Those steps.

The. First. Steps.

If I had a camera crew and a stylist and a designer in my home, it wouldn't have been more perfect. But you'll never know that because I don't have any of those things. Which is probably what it was perfect.

There were toys and clutter all around us. The tv was on. The mom looked as frumpy as she gets and the dad was wearing a scary beanie* and a hoodie.

Tommy had taken a step toward me earlier in the day, so when Josh was ready for a 5 minute break from homework, we were happy to sit across from each other and play "walk baby walk!" And baby walked.
On purpose.
He stood.
He thought about it.
He looked at dad.
He put one foot in front of the other and took deliberate steps.
Then we turned him around and he walked toward me.
Back and forth, he humored us for maybe 5 or 6 laps before he decided that sitting is cooler.

Each time he fell into our arms we scooped him up and laughed and clapped and kissed him senseless.

There has never been anything so beautiful. Ever.

I'm sorry you missed it.

*Bubbah is terrified of hats. Josh is wearing a beanie because apparently 68 is freakin' cold indoors. Tommy spent a solid 15 minutes crying every time he looked at Josh, then he removed the hat and put it on me and I was suddenly the terrifying parent.

Saturday, November 27, 2010

Christmas movies (and a CSN review)

Someday we may have to spring for a new tv tables like the ones CSN offers, but it would take a whole lot of review offers to work up to a $300 piece of furniture. In the meantime they're kind enough to let me do a review of something less costly, and you'll get to hear all about it soon. Perhaps when we're not paying tuition anymore we can spend our own money on extravagant items like furniture.

In the meantime, we have limited Tommy's asleep and we're awake moments, further limited by the dwindling evenings before Christmas comes. You know how there are only 3 more weekends until Christmas, right?

Well imagine that you can only watch 1 Christmas movie per weekend. That only leaves 3. What are they gonna be? 

The 3 Christmas flicks that are most mandatory at my house are without a doubt:  

While You Were Sleeping (yes, I know it's not a Christmas movie, but there's Christmas in it, and I like to watch it with a cup of hot chocolate, an oversized sweater, and a blanket....that makes it Christmas.)

We don't watch* so many movies lately because Tommy looks like this when we do.

And although it's fun to watch a movie in random order, we generally give up on movies long before they're over.

Did you notice my lovely tv stand? Sliding glass doors. You know...to keep the kids out....kids who don't know how to slide. So......that worked for about a month of Tommy's life. Someday we'll be rich again and buy stuff that actually works. Until then, 3 movies sounds like a pretty lofty goal.

What if you only get to watch 3 Christmas movies this year? What will they be?

*You should know that these movies are the ones that we must watch with both eyes, while sitting in the same room as the tv, with fewer than 20 stop/pauses. We watched the new version of A Christmas Carol like a month ago....and we'll definitely see snippets of other Christmas movies. But those are not required to watch watch. 

Family Parties

Today we're missing the first family Christmas party of the season.

Surprisingly, I'm a little bummed, it sortof sounds like fun to go see everyone, play some basketball, eat some Thanksgiving leftovers....

You see, I sortof hate family Christmas parties.

Hate. Them.

I hate that you have to get a present, find something suitable to wear (but different from what you wore to the last one), and sacrifice a precious weekend evening to go have a party with people you either love and see regularly, or don't really care to both to see and see annually.

I hate the conversation about how "it's been way too long" and asking "what are you up to now" which really just means "I have no idea where you are in your life, at all. Are you 12 or 24? Do you have kids or grandkids? Are you certain we're related?" and that's just awkward.

On the other hand....there is the food....

So although we thought we'd be out of town today, partying it up in a far away land....we're home. Because Josh has roughly 20 thousand hours of homework to do, and most of it was due by 5pm yesterday. Curse the invention of e-mailing your assignments to the teacher! 

We'll see how many parties we make it to this year, I'm sure to complain about them all, and thoroughly enjoy them by the time we leave.

After all, it really has been too long.

Friday, November 26, 2010


It was a lovely holiday.

We went to Josh's Aunt Lisa's house and ate all sorts of good food.

I made a pie for the first time in my life.

We came home and put up Christmas. (Well, most of Christmas...because now it's a 3 days process...thanks Bubbah.)

We shopped. Cami & I went to Walmart at midnight. In case you were wondering if that was a good idea, the answer is no. I've never seen so many crazy people in my life. There was blood. I'm pretty sure that we're on youtube somewhere. It was pure madness.

And since we didn't cook the turkey and we don't live with the people who cooked the turkey our thanksgiving leftovers are 1/2 of my blueberry pie. And you'd better believe I didn't cook today. So....yeah. Blueberry Pie for dinner. (It was delicious.)

Wednesday, November 24, 2010


Someone is going around the neighborhood planting full-sized snowmen on people's doorsteps.

The pieces must have been rolled in another part of the neighborhood, because the only evidence of a human planting and not alien activity is the footprints leading to the snowman. All other surrounding snow is untouched.

I wish I was as cool as "someone".

The Grocery Store and Other Road Trips

The first time we came to this house to see it, we both looked at each other on the way "out here" and said "We'll never live this far away from everything. Look! There's nothing out here! Who DOES that?" Of course now we live out here and the trip "into town" really isn't that far, but the first time it was far.

When we give people directions to our house we tell them to head West until they think they've found the edge of civilization then go 10 more minutes and you're almost to where you turn.

The day we moved into our house I was voted the most appropriate person to "run to the store real quick to get some cleaning supplies."

I drove through (and got lost in) about 10 different parts of town. I followed the road that followed the freeway assuming that eventually I would find a regular normal grocery store and be able to buy some Windex.

I was wrong. Terribly, painfully, gas-wastingly wrong.

Now I know that I missed the only grocery store between here and Timbuktoo and unknowingly opted instead to cross city lines and find the store in Timbuktoo.

**Side story: Last week we had to take a detour on our way home because the only real road leading to our neighborhood was closed. So we backtracked through umpteen-gazillion neighborhoods and 3 hours later made it home. While going through those neighborhoods I told Josh that "This is where I was when I was trying to find the store to buy Windex when we moved in!" he informed me that anytime we're in unfamiliar territory in Utah or any other state it's "where I was when I was trying to find the store to buy Windex when we moved in."  I stuck my tongue out at him and said "nuh-uhhhh"**

So, yeah. It's a road trip to go to the store. At least in my world it's a road trip.

I load up Bubbah with shoes, a blanket, snack and a sippie. I throw on a really great singing CD and we head out.

Of course every road trip needs it's car photos.

Now I know why forward-facing is more dangerous. The driver is required to play "peek a boo" in the mirror with the kid.

See how you feel like you've fallen off the end of the world? We're almost to the turn to the road to my house....

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

thankful for

Today I'm thankful for the Blizzard warning that brought my husband home at a record-breaking 5:15!

Also I'm thankful for my dad's passive-aggressive-so-nice-you-hardly-notice-it's-mean writing style. Much more eloquent than "Dear Jeremy, Eat Rocks!"


When the NWS issues a Blizzard Warning for the the entire state everyone heads to Walmart. 

Anyone else think that kings of Walmart & the NWS are sitting a conference room somewhere watching everyone on security cameras and laughing? 

Monday, November 22, 2010

Thankful for

Today I'm thankful for ice melt. 

And viatmin C.

Dear Josh,

You should be tired. Very tired. Please come home so we can both get some sleep tonight, OK?


Dear Blog Friends,

He's tired because he stayed up until 3am doing homework. Then woke up at 5am to do a 12 hour clinical shift at the care center. That's when he started his work day. It's currently 8pm and he is still running (without a break) on 2 hours of sleep.


Remind me one more time how important school is?


Sunday, November 21, 2010

Some random notes about this day.

I've done 3 (and a half) batches of hand-wash and there are still dirty dishes in the sink.

But that's OK because I made bread AND pumpkin cinnamon rolls. And dinner. All in one day. Then  I started making Josh's lunch for tomorrow.



Also we drove to Heber, because....you know. Snow.

And the drive down Parley's canyon was very nearly ..... eventful ....... more than once. But we all made it home in one piece. Note to self: Josh is right, AWD is not the same as 4WD. That's why it starts with an "A" instead of a "4".


When I picked Tommy up so he could "help" me make bread, I realized that he's heavy. And large. And not soft. Or cuddly. Or tiny. So I made Josh weigh him.

That's how I know we'll be having the Turning of the Carseat Ceremony tomorrow.


Now that Josh has clinic on Monday mornings and has to leave here by quarter-after-five, I don't go running in the morning. Wanna guess if I'll be setting my alarm clock or not?


Tommy only cried for 15 minutes tonight after I put him down to bed. Until about 2 weeks ago that wouldn't have been blog-worthy. After the last 2 weeks though, it's not only blog worthy - it's eat one more pumpkin cinnamon roll worthy.


I turned the dining room table for yesterday's Gerber House Party, I haven't turned it back yet and I feel like I redecorated my whole house.

I really love that feeling.


The general session of Stake Conference today was lovely. But it didn't even come close to being as good as last night's session. Poor Josh had to settle for my pathetic recap of last night's meeting since he was school-ing during it.

Some pictures (from this weekend) which I love


Life is better when you have good friends.

Also when you have good food. (And good friends to eat it with you!)

Also when you have good weather.

Was your weekend as great as mine?

Saturday, November 20, 2010

The snow finally stuck

Tonight as I left my meeting and got out to my car I had to do the "turn on the defrost full blast and scrape the windows" routine.

I wore a scarf and my big black coat with treasures from last year in the pocket.

This, my friends, the exactly the beautiful kind of soft wintery evening that I love.

Friday, November 19, 2010

What are we doing today?

Here's what we're doing today:
  • Making chicken salad. 
  • Eating this lovely soup (thanks for the recipe Heather!) 
  • Crying.
  • Reading books.
  • Singing.
  • Having a dace party.
  • Crying some more. (Can we say OUT. OF. CONTROL?) 
  • Making the world's greatest breakfast burrito. 
  • Wondering where we'll be this time next year. 
  • Laundry.
  • Returning 9 million phone calls. 
  • Listening to hold music. 
  • Printing. Constantly printing.
  • Folding, stuffing, licking, stamping. This is not a process in which Tommy is helpful.
Do you ever have times that you just feel like life got ridiculously out of control? 

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Tommy Goes To Town

Lately Tommy hates going on walks. He cries and whines and throws a minor (or major) fit. It's tragic really because that has historically been the best hour of my day and now it's gone. 

So yesterday when I went to have lunch with some old friends (which was lovely), I was nervous about the mandatory walk around Temple Square afterward. 

I simply don't have the ability to be there and not walk around and enjoy the beauty. 

So I packed my emergency supplies and hoped Tommy would humor me for a lovely stroll downtown. 

Humor me he did. 

We sang "I Love To See the Temple". In public. Quietly, but still!  I've officially crossed the line from "Aware and concerned about those around me and what they think." to "Who cares? I'm a mom." 

This is how much Tommy loves Temple square. I took about 20 pictures and he's making this exact face in 18 of them. 

While we were on the temple grounds (and the secret garden) he couldn't take his eyes off the temple. My neck hurt at the end of it, I'm assuming his did too.

And like his momma, he really couldn't take his eyes off the plants and the beautiful colors.

Oh how I love Salt Lake City.

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

motherhood makes me weep

I'm not stingy with my tears, they flow freely and frequently. For good news and bad. For joy and sadness. My own and others.

So it's no surprise that being a mom makes me cry far more than not being one did.

This morning Tommy was so so tired, he could barely keep his eyes open and I knew very well it was time for a nap. But laying him down at 8:30 to nap would mean a relatively horrific afternoon and I just couldn't bring myself to do it.

So we read, and played and moved the laundry around (my kid has a weird obsession with socks....he pulls ALL of the socks out of the hamper and plays with them) and finally at 9 I decided I'd bite the bullet, read one more story and let the poor child sleep.

So we read one more story and I laid (lay?) him down in his crib hoping I could watch him drift into a peaceful slumber. No sooner did his toe touch the mattress than he freaked out clambering up my body and squealing like a banshee.

So I scooped him back up into my arms, we read another story, which lead to a song, and eventually he dropped the book and just snuggled into my chest while I sang.

We cuddled that way, he and I, singing all the primary songs I know for 20 minutes. I considered letting him cry it out in his crib, but I needed him to need me.
Not Josh.
Not to be cuddled.
Not my incredible singing voice.
Just. Me.

So there we rocked, back and forth singing and drinking each other in.

As his breathing steadied I decided I probably wouldn't fall apart if I moved him to the crib and he stayed there, so I tried.

The second our bodies broke contact he freaked again. Flailing his arms and legs, reaching for me.

Just. Me.

So I scooped him up again, and we continued our rocking.

Slowly singing all the lullabies I know.

Finally, I knew I couldn't hold him through his whole nap and I had to put him down, but when I stood to move him across the room again, the tears came. Mine this time. I felt my heart reaching out for him and my emotions flailing all over the place.

I simply couldn't let him go.

So if you drove by my house and peeked in my window, you saw me standing, staring out at the neighborhood, with the sweetest bundle of goodness wrapped in my arms. You saw me rocking and singing all the sweet songs I know. My voice cracking, my sniffles keeping time, and my baby knowing that the lullabye of a mother is sweet no matter what.

Sometimes I cry because I am simply not enough, but today I cried because I felt the reverence of the gift of motherhood.

Being a mother makes this girl soggy.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010


Bubbah LOVES him some books. Maybe because he knows that if he reads enough he'll be smart enough to speak more properly than his mother? Or because he'll be educated enough to not call his kid Bubbah.  Whatever. He reads.

Probably because they're oh so useful.

Books are great for peekaboo and quite helpful as step stools among other things.

I think that Bubbah liking books is one of my favorite things about him. I like the way he reads them (sideways, upsidedown, nose in the spine) and I like the way he demands to be read to on a regular basis.

He loves to turn the pages (because it's fun!) but not ALL of the pages. He gets to the page before the last page and panics. He looks up at me and smiles, he starts to squirm and tries to be charming (it's not a stretch) then he frantically flips backward to the beginning of the book again. So we start again. I wonder if he thinks he's pulled one over on this genius.....

"In the light of the moon, a little egg lay on a leaf......."

But before *spoiler alert* the caterpillar could possibly be "a beeeeautiful butterfly!!!" we're back in the light of the moon again.

I love the way he loves books.

Did you notice the one where he's pulling a book out of a box full of toys (Lower Left)? Typical.

Speaking of books we begin 50,000 more times than we finish them......

I'm almost finished with the Book of Mormon (due by Saturday) again. Only I'll be finishing in Jacob 5. You think it's strange to finish in Jacob 5? Well here's why.

Josh and I were reading together, we had just finished Jacob 5 when we went to the adult session of Stake Conference. That's when we were challenged to read the whole Book of Mormon by the time Stake Conference rolled around again (6 months).

We certainly wanted to participate, but we had just barely recovered from the Isaiah chapters and we had plowed through Jacob 5 in like a day (it's a LOOONG chapter). Everybody knows that doesn't happen twice in a row and we were too chicken to start over again.

So, we decided that once you pass Jacob 5 you don't ever go back. So we trudged forward deciding we'd just pretend that was the beginning.

That's why I'm finishing the Book of Mormon in Jacob 5.

Monday, November 15, 2010

Do you think....

Do you think that if I filled all the forbidden cupboards with toys Tommy would stay out of them?

Do you think that if I put confidential information in the diaper pail instead of the shredder it's more effective?

Do you think that babies ever adjust to the time change?

Do you think that if Josh quits work to go to school they'll let us quit paying the mortgage and start paying tuition?

Do you think men get baby hungry before women after the first?

Do you think that people who are not naturally meek and humble can learn to become so?

Do you think that you like Tommy more than he does?

Probably not.

Sunday, November 14, 2010

The one where Bubbah says 'please'

Tommy learned something!

Not that he hasn't learned anything since he couldn't even keep his own eyes open, but that I don't really feel like we've taught him anything. He has figured stuff out on his own, but it's mostly the kind of stuff that you just sortof develop on your own. He has never done anything on command.

Except yesterday he signed "please" to me about 900 times in a row. As in "please give me another bite of yogurt" or "please stuff the spanish rice in my mouth" or "please let me sip my milk". So maybe he thinks it means food, or maybe he thinks it means eat, or maybe he thinks it means more, or maybe he thinks it means please. I don't really know (or care) because the cool part is that I'd say "say please" and he would.

Over and over and over again.

I dare say there is nothing cooler than watching your kid do something you taught them. NOTHING.

Everybody has a mom

Last week an old family/childhood friend was on the news - not in a good way. More of a "here is my mugshot" way.

This was the first boy I ever kissed (over my 3rd birthday cake....) and my parents were very close with his parents.

Then we moved to Utah, and they stayed in California and now I wouldn't recognize him if he walked up to me and said hello.

So although I hardly know him, it broke my heart to see him on the news that way.

So I e-mailed my mom to see how his parents are doing.

Not well.

"They're devastated." she said. "This makes you see things like this from a different perspective. I guess even Brian David Mitchell has a mother."

I suppose we all take our turns doing things we regret, and while some do things that are completely inexcusable, somewhere there is probably a mother/wife/brother who is aching for the mistakes made by a person they love.

Someone who once kissed a little girl over her 3rd birthday cake making her birthday wish come true.

Saturday, November 13, 2010


In my life I've had the opportunity to do loads of things for which I'm painfully unqualified. And I like to think I've learned plenty from each experience.

Remember when I ran a 5k? I was certainly unqualified for that and it changed my life.

One time I rode the bus from my parents house to my dad's law office where I worked. As an unobservant 15 year old with a tendency for becoming lost, I count myself unqualified to use public transportation.

I once worked in a Real Estate office and did things like writing contracts, working up advertisements and writing policies and procedures manuals for the company. My 2 year degree from LDS Business College certainly didn't give me the real estate/legal/advertising/business training one would normally hope for in a person completing those tasks.

Then there was the time the mormons asked me to teach a large group of women, all of whom are far more experienced than I, about the gospel. Remember? I made this face when I found out....

But being a mother puts all of those things to shame.

Bubbah and I went to a baby shower today. Bubbah wasn't happy about the game where I drink a bottle faster than anybody else in the room and he doesn't get anything.

So he cried.

So the room full of women who have all successfully raised children tried to help.

But he's scared of people.

So he cried.

So they suggested things.

But he was tired.

So he cried.

So I stared at the ground, wished the mother-to-be good luck and hauled my sobbing baby out to the car where I put him in the torture chamber and drove him straight into hell buckled him in and headed for home.

I'm not qualified to do very many things, but being a mother is the one that's most apparent thing today.

Friday, November 12, 2010

Brown Butter Pumpkin Linguine

My friend Lynn shared this recipe with me - well not just me...but everyone over at Nutrimirror.

And we had it for dinner last night and it was fantastic.

So if you want to try something new and tasty - do it.

Because Yum.


16 ounces (1 lb) whole wheat pasta
5 cups of beef stock (preferrably homemade) 
3 cups water
2 tablespoons butter
1 8-10 inch sprig of fresh rosemary
1 ½ cups pumpkin puree
1 ½ cup dried shiitake mushrooms (optional)
Parmesan cheese to garnish

1 – Bring beef stock and water to boil in pot large enough for cooking pasta.

2 – Add pasta and stir in; cooking for approximately 8 minutes or until al dente.  Do not drain (see below).

3 – While pasta is cooking, heat  frying/saute pan over high heat.  Once pan is very hot, add butter.   

4 – Stir butter and allow it to brown but not burn. While holding rosemary with one hand, use the other hand to scrape the needles off of the sprig and into the pan of hot butter.   

5 – Add pumpkin to this and about 1 cup of the pasta water/stock mixture.  

6 – Test pasta to see that it is just about finished.  Using pasta spoon, lift pasta into pan with butter and pumpkin.  Toss to coat.  

7 – If using, add mushrooms to remaining pasta water to hydrate.  

8 – Serve by tossing with mushrooms and garnishing with parmesan cheese curls (made with a vegetable peeler).  

the difference between me and Tommy

I think the main difference between me and Tommy is that the hardest part of doing up the buttons on his clothing, is him holding still long enough to get the button through the hole.

That is not the hardest part of doing up my buttons.

Thursday, November 11, 2010

Good friends

When you live *so far* from family (at least a 20 minutes drive....) it's good to have friends.

Because sometimes you have to go visit strangers and the back of your hair simply won't curl.

And you didn't make dinner for your husband or anyone else.

And your kid has nowhere to be for the 1 hour overlap between when you're late for your meeting and your husband is not home yet from his meeting.

That's when you call a friend and say "I know I said I'd bring him over at 6:45, and it's only 6, but I'm apparently incapable of doing my hair and I was really hoping you'd fix it for me." And your friend says "I'll go heat up my flat iron, see you in 5 minutes."

Then she fixes the back of your hair, blames it on the hair instead of you so you don't feel stupid, plays with your child and sends your husband home with dinner for 2 an hour later.

What would I do if I was expected to take care of my family all by myself?

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

some things he's learned

Yesterday Tommy completed his first month into his second year. It's the first month of re-dos. And I must say we re-did quite well.

Here's what he's learned in the first month of re-dos:

When you pull on the handle to a drawer (instead of just pounding on it incessantly) said drawer opens. And....get this......there's stuff inside!

When you close the lid to the seat on the toy firetruck before removing your fingers, weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth will ensue.

Saying "yabba dabba dooo" always gets a laugh.

Dad will keep chasing you as long as you keep laughing. (They played this game for a solid 20 minutes BEFORE I started filming and easily 5 more minutes after.)

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Who threw it first?

The first "who threw the first snowball of the season" post was dated September 25.

In 2008 it was October 13.

Last year, we had to wait until October 27 for me to take a commanding lead.

Today is November 9th.

Are we sensing a horribly painful pattern? Yes.

We used to drive up the canyon to meet the first snowfall halfway.

Then we had a baby.

And now we sit around in our living room, waiting on our derrières (don't google that - your eyes will burn out of your skull....) for the snow to fall just outside our house. So although the rest of the state celebrated their first snowfall weeks ago. We just barely got ours today.

Here's what happened:

I woke up to go running and when I opened the door to be greeted by the beauty of snow falling in the dark, the most genuine smile I've had in months crossed my face.

Since Josh spent all of last year whining about how last year's victory was "cheating", I opted to work out first and settle the score when I returned.

By the time I got back the sun had come up and I plotted my revenge the whole way home. I began to form my snowball along the way.

The blinds on the big window were already open indicating that Josh had already showered and started Tommy's breakfast. Most likely he was still in the living room.

So I stood in the driveway and packed more snow on the first snowball and threw it up to the window hoping to catch his attention.

Side note: I throw like a girl. That's only one reason this tradition is so fun. Really I have no chance of winning a "fair" fight because I can't aim. So generally "cheating" is my only option.

Miraculously my first toss was dead on. In fact I'm still looking at the snow-blob it left on the window. He didn't come, so I threw another (and missed), and another (and missed) and another (and missed) before I gave up and started to think of another plan.

Suddenly he was sneaking around the corner, barefooted, half-naked and with a snowball in his hand cocked and ready to throw. I ducked behind the car and prepared my next ball.

Although I can't throw worth anything, my ducking/dodging abilities are sound.

So we chased each other around the front "yard" (driveway....) throwing snowballs for quite a few minutes before he finally retreated to the entryway. I hid behind the car, he hid just inside the front door. I threw snowballs at the window in front of him and hit him right in the face more than once through the window. But, no contact = no point.

Finally his bare toes thawed enough that he came back outside and finished me off for good. He nailed me. With a real snowball. In a fair fight. And I conceded defeat.

So this year, we're all tied up: Amy - 3, Josh - 3.

Monday, November 8, 2010

Thankful for

'Tis the season to be thankful. Here's the short list today: 

rain (I wish you could smell this video...)

my handsome boys

trees the color of fall

honey-nut cheerios

a job

all of the enormous miracles that made it possible for Josh to go to school (many many miracles if you're ever in the mood to hear a "pay your tithing" story, call me....)

Sunday, November 7, 2010

Bonus Hour: A Contest

Let's talk about about Daylight Savings.

I know everybody hates it, but let's just accept the fact that it exists and we're not the boss of it. Instead of discussing all the reasons it's useless and stupid and outdated and a PITA (pain in the....) let's just talk about what we did with it.

I changed my clocks at 1 o'clock in the afternoon. Then I worked for a bonus hour last night. (I inherited a medical billing company from my sister. It's just me. So my work is never done.)

Josh spent his bonus hour talking to the Kirby vacuum sales lady (yes, again) about how God's existence is a lot like how great  a Kirby vacuum is. You just can't deny it. (Yes. She actually said that.)

So far I think Josh's mom wins the prize for "Best Use of the Bonus Hour". She's in Hawaii. And I don't care if she spent the whole hour picking her nose and reading about politicians, it was in Hawaii so it was still better spent than mine.

Would you win the contest for "Best Use of the Bonus Hour"? (BUBH - hey look at that! It's the Bubbah Prize!)

Saturday, November 6, 2010

Daddy's boy

Tommy and Josh have a bond that I suspect I will never understand.

That's just one reason it breaks my heart that Josh is home so little. Tommy sometimes goes days without seeing his father. I wish Josh could stick around long enough to see Thomas every morning and be home before bedtime every night. But the mornings that they do see each other before Josh leaves seem to be worse.

Josh only has to work 8 hours today (let's hear it for the weekend! woot woot!) so he bummed around here later than normal today.

He played with Tommy, they ate breakfast together, showered together and then Josh left for work.

Tommy didn't notice the exact moment that Josh walked out the door, but within 5 minutes started crawling all around the house methodically looking for his father.

As he crawled out of our bathroom and toward the living room again he started to sniffle and whine.

By the time he'd crossed the living room it was a full blown cry.

So I picked him up and cuddled him and told him that dad will be home tonight before bed and that I promised that dad would always always come home.

Then I put him down for a nap and cried. For more reasons than I can count.

Friday, November 5, 2010

When left unattended

Bubbah* has a new favorite place in this house.

That was a lie.

It's not a new favorite.

It has always been his favorite.

Probably because it's one of my favorites.

So anytime I leave him alone he races for my corner.

Which wouldn't be a problem if it were remotely child-proof. But it isn't.

*It has been brought to my attention (more than once) that "Bubbah" is a horrible name for a child. And while I would totally agree if it was coming out of anyone else's mouth, I'll probably keep calling him that for a while. He's been through his share of horrible nicknames, and he's survived them all - this too shall pass. Don't worry. His birth certificate still has a completely respectable name which is probably the only one that will stick with him for life.

Thursday, November 4, 2010


If I were naming the first year of Tommy's life it would be "The Year of Ish".

You know, like "I'll meet you at 10ish - heavy on the 'ish'."


We're happy and healthy and well rested - ish.


Tommy neverish cries.


My child didn'tish eat brownie batter off his binkie at 6 months old.

OK that last one might be abusing the Ish just a tiny bit....but you get the point.

So, now Tommy is walkingish. VERY heavy on the Ish. He's braver about reaching from one piece of furniture to the next and he sometimes accidentally takes a step or two on his own. Furniture = anything raised at least 1 inch off the floor. Blocks, toys, people, sofas, chairs, sippy cups, fire trucks, etc.

Also he doesn't like to touch the carpet. Josh thinks this has to do with the quantity of animal cracker paste ground into it. I think it's because he's playing Swamp Land and doesn't want to get eaten by alligators. Either way, he's constantly climbing up to sit/stand/step on things. Things = anything raised at least .1 inch off the floor. Books, blocks, toys, people, sofas, chairs, sippy cups, fire trucks, etc. (When was the last time you tried to balance on a sippy cup?)

The best part of all this is his constant wobbliness.

Combine the wobbliness with his near constant hiccups as he has milk dripping out of the corner of his mouth and we have one drunk-looking child.

I sit on the floor at least 4 feet away from him, he pulls himself up to stand against the chair and starts toward me. When he gets to the point where he can't get any closer to me without breaking contact with the chair he looks up, giving me his very best cheeser grin and takes a Frankenstein step or two toward me with both arms straight out. Then he topples over in a big hiccuping heap.

This is when I start to laugh hysterically and his insane gasping giggle sets in.

Maybe we're both drunk.....

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Things I hate: the election and the news

I hate elections.

Don't get me wrong, I love that we get to vote. And I always do. (Which is stupid because sometimes I force Josh to vote too and he cancels out my vote on pretty much everything. We couldda just saved ourselves 10 minutes - but then we wouldn't get a sticker.) But I hate the months (years?) leading up to and immediately following the elections where we have to listen to politicians talk about how much they hate each other.

And I hate waiting in lines. And the obnoxious people who wait to vote until they see me going in just so they can make me crazy.

And I hate that The Election is all that anybody can talk about. (Including me. This post is Exhibit A.)

But this year it's all different.

I could watch that anti Sam Katz commercial 10,000 times and still laugh about it every time. Did you click the link and watch it? If not you really really should. I guarantee you'll laugh. If you don't I'll mail you a dime.

When I went to vote there were 3 open machines, a friend of mine manning the check in, and ZERO obnoxious people around me. Probably that means I was the obnoxious one....sorry.

I also hate the news.

Mostly because all weathermen are annoying. Are you a weatherman? Well, obviously I don't mean you. And all sports reporters have nasal voices. And so I hate the news.

This morning I hate them both because SOMETHING happened in my neighborhood last night and NOBODY wants to tell me what it was.

Stupid news thinks that the future of the country and the results of the election are more important than the SWAT team and police cars that barricaded the street in my hood. How am I supposed to know which of my neighbors is crazy and/or dealing drugs if the news won't tell me?

I can now hate The Election and the news again. Because together they're far worse than they are alone. That's the opposite of synergy. We'll call it righteous-ergy.


Some of my baby's sweetest moments are when he's out cold. Also some of his rudest.

This is the first time I've ever been mooned by a babe in a onesie.

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

honest to goodness the horrible awful truth

Life at our house is stressful and mostly unpleasant right now.

Josh has more on his plate than he can handle.

I can't handle that.

Now it's starting to show.

This is what my kitchen looked like for 4 solid days.

Do you need help identifying the major problems? Allow me to point out the issues:

  • The pile of stuff closest to you (if you were taking the picture which you're not because you're sitting comfortably in your clean good-smelling house). Not one of those items even belongs in the kitchen. Bike tires, hairspray, bandaids and magazines....not kitchen materials. 
  • We'll skip the dirty dishes in the sink because they're the least of my problems. 
  • Chemicals on the counter where they've been for 4 DAYS. Bath toys, cleaning rags, and an open bottle of peach syrup. 
  • And one more tiny little thing. The faucet. Did you notice that it isn't there? If Josh had asked me how long I could live without a kitchen faucet I would have told him 15 minutes. But somehow I survived a  faucetless kitchen for 3 days. I scrubbed potatoes in the bathroom sink and washed pots and pans in the bathtub.

I managed to clean the kitchen yesterday so it looks better today.

Today I haven't managed to get ready post-run. But since I went to vote I did bother to throw on a hat.

That is exactly as pretty as I intend to be today.

Because that's exactly as good as I feel today.

Sugarfast 2010

Usually I sugarfast through the holidays. Josh does it with me and sometimes my sister will join in and it's a beautiful thing. There are maybe 2 days from October - March that merit eating some kind of sweet treat but other than that I pass on all desserts, candies and sweets.

This year I started sugarfast without Josh. He doesn't have the "fast or binge" mindset so it isn't as big of a deal for him. It's harder when you're the only one sugarfasting.

But on Halloween-eve my extraordinarily generous nephew offered to share his hard earned candy with me. I had no problem until I saw the lemonhead.

Lemonheads taste like summers at the PG pool. The old one. With the good deep end and a high dive. I love the PG pool and I wanted a lemonhead. And if there's one thing I've learned on Nutrimirror it's that you can have 1 lemonhead and not gain 50 pounds.

So I ate a lemonhead.

And just like that Sugarfast 2010 is over.

After the lemonhead there was an exceptionally delicious pumpkin-pie-dessert at Mom-Reilley's, and of course she made sugar cookies. And it would have been rude not to partake.

Now I just have to decide if I want to have Sugarfast 2010: The Sequel or if I just want to keep my food logs green and let it be.

Moderation is much harder for me than fasting.

gmail ads

You know how gmail reads your messages and puts advertising around the outside of your account that is custom fit for whatever you're talking about? So when you send 18 messages about the cost of diapers, you get ads to buy diapers online.

Well lately (in the last 12 hours) my messages are all about turkey - and Hawaii.

So my ads are:

Yacht Charter in Turkey
Luxury Vacation on a Turkish Yacht Fully Crewed with Gourmet Cuisine

Thanksgiving Turkeys
Raised on organic free range pastures and soy-free Cocofeed.

Also see:
Free Range Turkey
Turkey Dance Hula

Sometimes I wonder what google would say about me if it could hear my conversations in real life. 
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