I think I just might want to live in this kind of weather for the rest of my life.
Windows open.
Short sleeves/dresses/bare feet.
The sandbox is in full swing, leaving crazy boy occupied for a couple hours each day, leaving a trail of sand throughout the kitchen.
Life is good. I could live like this.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Childhood memories--Throw Up
This is pretty grouse, so you can all stop reading right now.
You have now been warned.
I have the weakest stomach out there and the wimpiest gag reflex on this planet.
My first swim lesson, I remember walking through the door to the pool at the Orem Rec Center. The smell of chlorine hit me so bad, I ran to the garbage can and let it all out. I still hate swimming pools.
Walking to Kindergarten every day was a treat. I had my little book bag that my mom made for me. I loved that bag. I would chew on the fabric handles. One day I had a runny nose and didn't know what to do so I wiped my nose with the handles of my bag. Later down the road, out of habit, I brought the handles to my mouth. As soon as it touched my lips I remembered that I had wiped my nose with it and immediately started gagging and threw up. (I tell this story whenever I say that I NEVER picked my nose and ate my boogers ((I fully admit that I picked (((pick))) my nose)) because people don't believe me.) I was across the street from my Aunt Laurel's by then and she got out her hose and cleaned me and my bag up.
When I was twelve, I had an awesome retainer that always seemed to be broken. My dad would use epoxy to glue it back together so my parents wouldn't have to pay for another retainer (I still have dreams that I am wearing my broken retainer. And epoxy? That explains all my problems!). We have a pretty nice hill in my childhood backyard. Back when we had winters full of snow, we would go tubing down that hill. I never had the sense to pull my hair back in a pony tail, so when I would biff it on the tube, my hair would get caught up in the snow and in my mouth and retainer. Enter in my gag reflex.
There are, of course, many more occasions in my life when my weak stomach and poor gag reflex have come in to play, but let's fast forward to my wedding day. A sweet little temple worker had to fetch me a trash can and it stayed by my side throughout the whole day. I did, however, succeed in NOT throwing up that day.
You have now been warned.
I have the weakest stomach out there and the wimpiest gag reflex on this planet.
My first swim lesson, I remember walking through the door to the pool at the Orem Rec Center. The smell of chlorine hit me so bad, I ran to the garbage can and let it all out. I still hate swimming pools.
Walking to Kindergarten every day was a treat. I had my little book bag that my mom made for me. I loved that bag. I would chew on the fabric handles. One day I had a runny nose and didn't know what to do so I wiped my nose with the handles of my bag. Later down the road, out of habit, I brought the handles to my mouth. As soon as it touched my lips I remembered that I had wiped my nose with it and immediately started gagging and threw up. (I tell this story whenever I say that I NEVER picked my nose and ate my boogers ((I fully admit that I picked (((pick))) my nose)) because people don't believe me.) I was across the street from my Aunt Laurel's by then and she got out her hose and cleaned me and my bag up.
When I was twelve, I had an awesome retainer that always seemed to be broken. My dad would use epoxy to glue it back together so my parents wouldn't have to pay for another retainer (I still have dreams that I am wearing my broken retainer. And epoxy? That explains all my problems!). We have a pretty nice hill in my childhood backyard. Back when we had winters full of snow, we would go tubing down that hill. I never had the sense to pull my hair back in a pony tail, so when I would biff it on the tube, my hair would get caught up in the snow and in my mouth and retainer. Enter in my gag reflex.
There are, of course, many more occasions in my life when my weak stomach and poor gag reflex have come in to play, but let's fast forward to my wedding day. A sweet little temple worker had to fetch me a trash can and it stayed by my side throughout the whole day. I did, however, succeed in NOT throwing up that day.
Friday, March 6, 2009
um...okay?
There are times in my life when an "um...okay?" is in order.
Like today, when I was talking to my diagonal back yard neighbor and my next store neighbor (NSN) at the same time. It turns out they are kin (kentucky vocabulary for related). Then, NSN's mom shows up. NSN immediately throws her cigarette behind her and mutters, "I'm not smoking."
As the catching up between kin continues, NSN notices that she has slowly wondered upon her stray, still-smoking butt. She picks it up with a look of disgust on her face and throws it past the nearby property stake onto our lawn. While this is happening, I look at her mom, she looks at me, and NSN avoids all of our looks. (this all happened in slow motion, by the way). And the conversation resumes.
This is when I think to myself, "Um...okay?"
Like today, when I was talking to my diagonal back yard neighbor and my next store neighbor (NSN) at the same time. It turns out they are kin (kentucky vocabulary for related). Then, NSN's mom shows up. NSN immediately throws her cigarette behind her and mutters, "I'm not smoking."
As the catching up between kin continues, NSN notices that she has slowly wondered upon her stray, still-smoking butt. She picks it up with a look of disgust on her face and throws it past the nearby property stake onto our lawn. While this is happening, I look at her mom, she looks at me, and NSN avoids all of our looks. (this all happened in slow motion, by the way). And the conversation resumes.
This is when I think to myself, "Um...okay?"
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Submarines
Paul says THE funniest things when he is half asleep. Last night, at 1 AM, we got up to go to the bathroom. While there, he asked me,
"So, do we have enough lint to build the submarine?"
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Outside-In
Desperate for some warmth we had a picnic in the family room the other day.
Then, continuing on with the "outside-in" theme as I am in the kitchen cleaning up, I hear something (a lot of things) crashing to the floor as Dallin shouts, "Snowing, Mom! Snowing!"
I walk in to find Dallin making a SNOW ANGEL (devil) on top of the "snow".my top secret pizza crust recipe
My cousin, Lindsey, called me today to get my pizza crust recipe. Although it is top secret, I thought I would share it with the rest of you.
image via here
On my dark cookie sheets the bottom gets really dark, on my shiny cookie sheets the bottom is under done.
Have no fear--It always come out perfect on my pizza stone (pampered chef -large bar pan, to be exact).
Dissappearing coffee lettuce
Paul puts Dallin to bed in the office every night. He will read to him, then out goes to light and they both fall asleep. I then wake Paul up about a half an hour later. This is what is working and what has kept him out of our room so far. He wakes up crying almost every night, however, because Paul is not with him in the room. He will come to our door and get his Daddy almost every night, too. He has stayed out of our bed until last night. Dallin finally crawled into our bed in the middle of the night. He woke up this morning, looked around like he was a bit confused, saying, "Mommy and Daddy's bed!" I asked him how he got there. He said, "Daddy disappeared."
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Dallin loves chocolate milk. We have a problem on our hands with chocolate milk right now. He has started to call it coffee. We figured out that this recent obsession has come from his preschool teacher who loves coffee. That, and having an actual "coffee table" in our family room. In our religion, we follow a health code called the Word of Wisdom. Part of that is that we do not drink coffee. So, we have been trying to teach Dallin that we do not drink coffee ("coffee is bad for you, honey") all the while trying to teach him that people who drink coffee are not bad people. (We can just imagine him getting confused and telling someone they are bad.) Coffee is all that he talks about anytime he is drinking lately.
And I quote: "Dal LOVE coffee. Coffee sooo good. Coffee my favorite! Chocolate milk coffee!"
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We were sitting at dinner this evening when someone had a breakdown (it was me, okay). I started crying and Dallin sat in the chair right next to me with a sincere smile on his face (kind of that "ooohhh" look). Paul told him to give me a hug. He got off his chair and went to the kitchen counter and picked up a head of lettuce. He walked back to me and set it down in front of me gingerly. "Take a bite, Mommy," he said sympathetically as me pat my back a couple times.
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Dallin loves chocolate milk. We have a problem on our hands with chocolate milk right now. He has started to call it coffee. We figured out that this recent obsession has come from his preschool teacher who loves coffee. That, and having an actual "coffee table" in our family room. In our religion, we follow a health code called the Word of Wisdom. Part of that is that we do not drink coffee. So, we have been trying to teach Dallin that we do not drink coffee ("coffee is bad for you, honey") all the while trying to teach him that people who drink coffee are not bad people. (We can just imagine him getting confused and telling someone they are bad.) Coffee is all that he talks about anytime he is drinking lately.
And I quote: "Dal LOVE coffee. Coffee sooo good. Coffee my favorite! Chocolate milk coffee!"
-----------------------------------
We were sitting at dinner this evening when someone had a breakdown (it was me, okay). I started crying and Dallin sat in the chair right next to me with a sincere smile on his face (kind of that "ooohhh" look). Paul told him to give me a hug. He got off his chair and went to the kitchen counter and picked up a head of lettuce. He walked back to me and set it down in front of me gingerly. "Take a bite, Mommy," he said sympathetically as me pat my back a couple times.
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