(New) In Town

We were able to have Ken and Michelle and their two cute girls over for the weekend. It is nice having some family close enough that we can crash at each others houses on random occasions. Ken had an early interview in the City on Friday, so Michelle and I stayed home and watched the kids play. And by play, I mean fight. To the death. It was like total WWF around here. Our little 2 year old's can NOT play nicely together. But it was still fun to have them here.

Friday night, after an easy dinner of chicken nuggets, Grandma rice, and Grandma beans, Michelle and I headed out to see New In Town. It was a cute movie. Mindless, and easy to watch, a perfect escape for a night out.

Saturday we hit Panda Express for some EggRo goodness. Mmm. And then it was Roast Beef for dinner. I over did my mashed potato to gravy ratio, and ended up eating them like they were soup, but they were still mighty tasty. I'm a sucker for mashed potatoes and gravy, just like my Mom was.

Sunday we sort of pooped out on church since I had no voice due to that stinking cold I was brewing, and Gretta was sporting all sorts of pretty green boogers, so we just hung out most of the day. I don't think Ken even changed out of his pajamas. Good boy. We fried up some steaks and baked potatoes for dinner, and life was good.

Today I let Emma stay home from school to spend a little more time with the cousins, and because I'm such a cool mom like that. She helped out with the sheet washing, and by entertaining the kids while everything got packed up it the van.

It was a fun visit. We always love having family over. Hint hint.

Fun for Friday

Click on over to my little bow store, and have a look. Neighbor Kate and I have been making and selling bows and clippies for the last 9 months or so. We are just so creative like that.



And on another note, it's Kate's birthday today, so head over to her blog and wish her a happy day.

Sign Of The Times

We visited the dentist yesterday. Maggie has her first cavity growing on her back tooth, and it was getting to the point where I could see it growing worse every day. So we headed off to the dentist's office. It's a decent amount of time in the car to get there, so as we drove, Emma, who is now big enough to ride in the front seat, and I had a good conversation about school. She began telling me how they were learning to play "Kiss The Girl" on the steel drums.

Maggie piped up from the back seat, and said she knew that song. She hears it on the radio all the time. I was confused, as I absolutely refuse to listen to Radio Disney, and couldn't for the life of me figure out where she would have heard that song.

She began singing it at the top of her lungs. "'I kissed a girl, and I liked it....'" She sang. And sang.

Totally not the right song, but wow, was I a little shocked. I don't listen to music like that for 2 reasons. 1, I hate Pop music. It just doesn't feel right to me to BeBop along to kid-like DJ music. 2, the lyrics of that song, and a lot of other Pop songs are atrocious. I'm still not sure where she heard it, especially enough times to pick up the words so perfectly.

So here we are, buzzing along to get Maggie's first cavity filled as she sings a song about a first time lesbian encounter. We had a lot of firsts that day.

Nothing

I got nothing today. Nothing.

Except maybe the beginnings of a cold. Which is wretched timing, seeing as we'll be up in the 40's by Saturday.

And so help me, if this cold keeps me from emerging from my winter cocoon to enjoy some sunshine and blue sky, I will a broken woman be.

But other than that, there is not much to tell.

And I'm totally not complaining about that.

Ring Ring

Ring ring.... Ring ring..... Ring ring.....

Me: Hello?

LG Vu: Is this Keli?

M: Yes, who is this?

LG: This is your new phone. You know, the one that has replaced your beloved BlackBerry?

M: Oh, you. What do you want?

LG: I'm hoping to gain your acceptance, and maybe eventually your respect.

M: Well, I don't see that happening any time soon.

LG: Please! Give me a chance! You don't understand, there are so many of us that can never be a BlackBerry, so we can only be the best regular phone we know how. It's so hard living under the shadow of the BlackBerry.

M: Well, I can see why. I totally feel like I've gone from a Mac to a PC. It's unnatural. It's devolution.

LG: What? What is devolution?

M: See. A BlackBerry would totally know what I was talking about. What with it's predictive text, it's fully functional keyboard, it's ability to automatically capitalize and punctuate. You will never be a BlackBerry.

LG: (Sigh) You're right. But you signed that contract, so you're stuck. Sucker!


Don't get me wrong, I like my new phone. It's fine. I like the super fast internet, and the way it displays web pages like web pages, and not HTML with a few links here and there. But, it has this teeny tiny keypad that certainly isn't made for full figured fingers like mine.

There is no predictive text, it won't capitalize without pressing the teeny tiny shift key, and you have to adjust the keypad for any punctuation besides a period. Period. Duh.

I guess after having a BB for the last, oh, 5 years, I have gotten a little spoiled. But I will survive. Plus, now I have unlimited texts! Yay! Feel free to text me anytime.

Are You Ready For Some Football?

Sunday was a big day at our house. We hosted a huge Superbowl par-tay. It was a total blast. Here are just a few of the highlights.

A view from the balcony. The men were all intent on the game, and more so on the commercials. I think the "Wipe Out" show was an attention grabber, as well.

The pile-o-coats. Since we moved our front room furniture into the living room to accommodate our 30 + guests, there wasn't a better place to throw the winter garb.

This little gal chewed away on her chubby little toes, and melted our hearts with those fat rolls. I'm pretty sure I could eat her. I don't think Tina would mind, do you?

And a little view of some of the mess atop my counter. Home made pizza, tons of appetizers, and delicioso desserts made for a filling party menu.

We got an impromptu cheer session from Shylo. I outed Carli and her 9 month flu, and we corrupted the Elders because we wouldn't turn off the game when they came over. But for the record, they just came, ate, and skedaddled. I bonded with the newest Kelley and her bow making abilities, (Yay!) and I think Noel, Brooke and I had a little 3 way action that sent The Chad over the top.

I'm just a good hostess like that, what can I say?

We did miss our Lacey Fay, as she was out having just birthed her third baby boy, Justin. But we'll bring her some pizza as a consolation prize. For missing the party, not for giving birth.

And the fact that the Steelers brought it home, including #99, made it that much sweeter.

Friday Fun

So that's where all our taxes are going.

Public education at it's finest.

Happy Mail

Again, thankyoublogger for publishing everything in reverse order.

Gretta was the proud recipient of some wonderful happy mail yesterday. She was so excited to see the box when we arrived home, but she was so tired, a nap took precedence over opening the box. After 2 hours of sleeping bliss, she was revived and ready to dig in.


Of course, with its being from the canine species, she is in love. Love, love, love.



And she's learning some grooming skills that will give her something to fall back on later in life.



You can see the pure bliss on her face as she sees the fuzzy fur peeking out of the package.




And here is the box we found waiting for us on the front porch. There are few things more exciting than finding an unexpected gift by the door.

So thank you, Mimi and Josh. You guys rock. Gretta is in doggy heaven, and has added to the dog pound in which she sleeps.

Germy Fungus

While I shopped and shopped yesterday, I had my kid in the cart. She was sitting so quietly while I perused the wall of ribbons, looking for that one perfect design. I took my sweet time. Upon turning around, I see her sucking on the handle of the shopping cart. Sucking on it. Like a newborn sucks on a binky.

I don't consider myself a germ freak by any means, but I do know the facts. Like, the fact that most people don't wash their hands properly, if at all (BLECH!) after using the bathroom. And then those filthy hands find their way, along with their hitch hiking germs, onto various surfaces. Like door knobs, and telephones, and yes, even grocery cart handlebars.

And now my kid has sucked it clean.

Needless to say, she woke up with a wicked cough. I hope that's all it is. I'm worried about seeing a rash, or sores, or worse! Especially since I know of 2 people whose babies have come down with MRSA.

Let's hope she recovers quickly, and that I won't become that mom who sanitizes everything and won't let her kids touch other kids toys and such. Yeah, like that would happen.

Womb Mates

Did you hear about the lady that gave birth to Octuplets? OCT-tuplets. For the record, that word isn't even in my computer dictionary. Quintuplets, yep, it's there. Sextuplets, sure. Septuplets and Octuplets, nope. This should be our first, or maybe seventh or eighth clue that our "fertility treatments" have gotten a little out of control. And the poor lady, she didn't even know she was having 8 babies. She thought there was "only" 7 until the delivery, and then surprise! one more.

I guess what's one more when you're already having a litter. Note that that is a statement, not a question.

My darling Terrible Two year old, of which I have one, has decided that she can dial 9-1-1, stay up until midnight, and drink regular Coke. Imagine a day like that times 8! I need a nap just thinking about it.

Driveolution

Yesterday I drove all the way to the airport, picked up my cargo, dropped them off at an undisclosed location to which I'd never been, and drove home using roads on which I'd never driven. I did all of this without using my GPS.

It was a good day.

Also, notice there are no dangling participles in that first paragraph. You're welcome.

Friday Fun

Thanks, Meg. For some reason I think yours would get a discount.

Two Down

My baby is two. Two, people. Where has the time gone? So instead of blah blah blahing your ear off, I've included a sweet picture story, in reverse order, thankyoublogger.



Gretta showing off her pearly whites.

At the beach this summer.



Memorial Day bbq with the Ward.



Playing in the water. A favorite pastime.



Where her love of all things dog began. Camping last Spring in Wisconsin.



Enjoying some early morning play time in the Spring.



Love that hat. She gets laughs whenever she wears it.



Learning how to crawl. She was so skinny!



Swaddled up for nap time. She was so wiggly, if I didn't swaddle her, she would flail around and never sleep. And of course, she had the lovely helmet. It did make her head a nice round shape, so I guess all that stink was worth it.




And the birth shot. I could include several bloody C-Section shots here, so if you want to see them just email me, and they're all yours.

So that's it. My babes. Growing up too fast. But I have to include reasons we love Gretta

• She knows how to get her way. That Pterodactyl scream gets the job done effectively.
  
• Anything dog related is her best friend.
  
• She loves Ranch Dressing.
  
• The way she won't eat her own dinner, but she'll crawl up on your lap, open her mouth, and say "mmbite?"
  
• She runs everywhere.
  
• The way she "stays close" when we carry her from the car to the store/church/school, so as to keep her face buried in our shoulders and avoid the freezing wind.
  
• When she lies down on the step when she needs her bum changed.
  
• Her love of "Me's", which is Gretta's way of saying binky.
  
• Having 20 blankets in her crib at night, along with her many many dogs.
  
• When someone is crying, she gets such a sympathetic look on her face, as if it really makes her sad, too.
• That she knows how to turn on the toy room TV all by herself.
  

Gretta, we love you. I'm sad to see you grow, but I love seeing all the new things you discover. You are truly a joy to have in our family. We love you!

It May Only Happen Once Every 8 Or So Years

And I'm not talking about the inauguration. I'm talking about the fact that I went to Wal-Mart yesterday during the inauguration, and not only did I score a front row parking space, inside the store was practically empty.

I'd like to think it's because everyone was home watching the inaugural speech of our new Prez, but for some reason I think it has more to do with people being broke from Christmas and their 401(k)'s taking a big ol' crap. Like ours.

Christmas spending - $680,934*
401(k) losses - $32,059*
Front Row Spot at Wal-Mart - Priceless



*Not actual numbers. Duh.

Inaugural

One thing you must know about Gretta is that she loves her stuffed animals. And lately, it has been her stuffed dogs. Dogs in every size, shape, color, and species. In addition to carrying 3 or 4 lucky "doggies" around all day, she insists on each and every one of them sleeping in her crib with her. This brings the total to 267 stuffed dogs in her crib, along with her "woof woof blank" blanket from Grandma. It's like the dog pound in there.

This morning I was returning from Neighbor Kate's house after letting her 500 pound dog out to pee, and as I entered into the house, Emma runs to tell me Gretta has thrown up in her crib. Oh, great. I can hear her upstairs saying, "eew, throw up ma!" So I hurry upstairs to purvey the damage. First thing I notice is no smell. Whew, maybe she didn't barf up that entire cup of milk she guzzled minutes before falling asleep. Second thing I notice, it's everywhere. But still, no smell. I flip on the light, and voila! No barf. It was a bloody nose!

My baby duked it out with her 267 puppies in the dog pound, and lost.

But those poor dogs took a pretty good beating. Blood everywhere. On everything.

I find it appropriate that she had her inaugural nose bleed on this, inaugural Tuesday. Firsts all around.

And the bleeding has stopped, thanks for asking.

Untitled

There are good days. Days when I can almost forget. There are bad days, days when I get those twinges of sorrow, but they pass without incident. Then there are days like yesterday. Days when the grief is utterly consuming, overwhelming, and crippling. It hit me hard yesterday. And of all places, it was during Sacrament meeting, during the opening hymn. It was the last 3 verses of "If You Could Hie To Kolob", I mean really, who ever really sings the last 2 verses, anyway? Well, our little Ward likes to sing the entire song, of every song, and yesterday the words really hit hard.

The works of God continue, And worlds and lives abound;
Improvement and progression Have one eternal round.
There is no end to matter; There is no end to space;
There is no end to spirit; There is no end to race.

There is no end to virtue; There is no end to might;
There is no end to wisdom; There is no end to light.
There is no end to union; There is no end to youth;
There is no end to priesthood; There is no end to truth.

There is no end to glory; There is no end to love;
There is no end to being; There is no death above.
There is no end to glory; There is no end to love;
There is no end to being; There is no death above.

As I sat sobbing, unable to get a grip on my emotions, I started to think why this particular day was so much harder than all the other days. For one reason, it has been nearly 5 months now, and the grief still gets me. 5 months has flown by, and I worry that the next 5 years will fly by just as quickly, and that I may lose some of the essence of what made Mom Mom. What if I forget the way she talked? What if I forget her smell? What if I said the wrong things or did the wrong things, and she can't forgive me? The other reason I came up with, is the fact that I am basically unmedicated at this particular juncture in my life. This is something I haven't dealt with in over 8 years. Due to some reasons I'd rather not get into, I've decided it's time to change my prescription, and in order to do that, I had to leave on behind, and pick up another, leaving a gap in between. It's not a pretty sight. But let me tell you, it's not a pretty feeling, either.

As I sat sobbing, even through the youth speaker and the Bishop's testimony, it was as if these last 5 months were hitting me raw for the first time. I've been feeling all of this grief from behind a medication screen, and now, they are hitting full force. It's like the diagnosis, suffering and death all over again, only this time I don't have my siblings there to share the sorrow with. It makes me grateful for the blessing of being together during all of that the first time. But it makes me sad that Sugar Daddy can't feel what I feel, because he wasn't there. I know he hurts too, but it's not the same. I felt lonely. But I'm giving it another couple of days, the new medication will kick in, and all will be well again. Hopefully.

Friday Fun

As comfy as it looks, I'm glad there's this sign to stop me. Lagoon, you rock.

And did you see? NieNie is back! She posted a picture and everything! I don't know this woman, but I feel like my soul does. I'm thrilled for her, just like I would be for a sister, and am so excited to see her old self coming through. Go visit her here.

Warmer Places = Antarctica

*Image added this afternoon. I can hardly believe it, and it's now -10 at 5:24 PM.



It's cold here. Way cold. Cold enough that they closed the schools because it is dangerously cold. But it's windy, so you know, that helps lots.

If you want to see our hourly forecast of frigidness, and this has nothing to do with me, click here.

Wednesday WRant

Dear Parents Magazine,

Lest you think I'm writing this letter out of irritation, let me start off by saying how much I love your magazine. I love the poorly researched articles, the generic advice given by mediocre experts, and the way you lump advertisement pages together so you can't find page numbers, as the pages fly by 25 at a time due to the clump of Target ads. Those are all things I look forward to each month. But there is one thing that is really irritating about your magazine these days. Let me explain.

I love nothing more than curling up with a good magazine or book, climbing into my bed, warm from an awaiting electric blanket, and cracking open what could be hours of fine entertainment. I could remain in this position for eternity, I think. Sometimes, though, I like to mix it up a little, and take my reading material on a little field trip, and that is into the jetted tub for a relaxing bath. Ahh, bubbles surrounding me, no kids bothering me, and word after word, page after page, to keep my mind alert. A little slice of heaven, really.

I open your magazine, only to find the first 15 pages to whip by my fingers as if in a fit of rage. There seems to be a large clump of heavy duty glossy pages right where the page I'm looking for should be. It takes me nearly 5 minutes (!) to sift through all those glossy ads for diapers and PediPed shoes, and baby bjorns before I finally find the article I'm looking for. I roll the front page back, slide a little deeper into the bubbles, and relax in for a good session of parenting advice. Suddenly, out of nowhere, I am accosted by 3, count them, 3 loose subscription cards, falling gracefully into my steaming hot bath. I feel violated. Like a stranger in a snorkel mask has just surfaced. I'm in a tizzy, throwing your magazine across the room to save it from a watery death, reaching two handed into the bubbly abyss to find the drowning cards before they melt away and adhere permanently to my naked body. Let's face it, there's more body in that tub than there is water. In this moment, my bliss is shattered.

My evening of "me" time is down the drain, so to speak.

So thank you for your intense interest in me getting me to subscribe to a magazine to which I already subscribe. I feel like a popular girl who keeps getting asked to prom, despite everyone knowing she already has a date. But at the risk of soundy snobby, just quit already! I don't need to be reminded with every turn of the page that I need the latest baby gadget to make my baby happy. I don't need to be showered in subscription cards to remind me to subscribe, your weekly junk mail takes care of that nicely. Just leave me be, and let me read your magazine naked in a tub like it's meant to be read.

And keep up the mediocre work.

Bubbly yours,

An Anniversary, Sort Of

It's was a year ago today. A year ago that I did the most grown-up thing of my life. A year ago that I left my little cocoon of a life behind, and started across the plains like a modern day pioneer. It was a miserable morning that day. We awoke early to an unexpected snow storm. We packed up the final necessities, hugged, kissed, and cried our loved ones goodbye, and headed East, into the sunrise. There was definite excitement as we drove. Crossing each new state line brought us closer to a new adventure. There were times when the grief of leaving family behind was almost too much to bear. But we pressed on. It grew colder. We grew more excited. With each passing mile, the draw of a new life brought a new light to our hearts. We knew it was an experience we needed. We knew that our new life was all about what we made it to be.

Without knowing even a single soul, we settled into a new home, new school, and a new church. Friends came easily for all of us, and soon life seemed normal.

Summer came, mom died, and suddenly life, I realized, will never be normal again.

This anniversary brings a gamut of emotions. Sadness, for those months I missed out on while mom was well. Joy, for knowing I can do hard things and make it work. Fulfillment, for seeing my children flourish in a new environment, and trepidation, for not knowing what lies ahead, and seeing first hand that life can change drastically in an instant.

I know that the years pass more and more quickly as time marches on, and each anniversary of this date will lessen the sadness and grief that came with it that first day. Thankfully, those aren't the only feelings I remember. I miss my old life, but I love my new life. And that makes a happy anniversary all around.