Feb 27, 2010
It is Hot and/or Ready, if you are willing to wait till it comes out of the oven.
Friday night I was going out with some friends, so a quick and easy dinner solution for my family was Little Ceasar's Hot and Ready pizza. Because I'm cheap like that.
At 5:00 Harrison and I pulled in to Little Ceasar's, (in order to beat the dinner rush) and I ordered a Hawaiian pizza. They used to have them hot and ready, but not any more. I didn't realize this. The cashier told me it would be about 5 minutes. No big deal. I grabbed a balloon for Harrison and we sat down to wait.
Turns out 5:00 on a Friday is NOT early enough to beat the dinner rush. It was packed. Crazy busy. I think Hot and Ready pizzas was probably the best thing Little Ceasar's ever did for themselves. The pizza is not fantastic, but it is cheap and it is available NOW. Those two qualities are pretty hard to resist. And those highschoolers employed there work really hard. People say teenagers are lazy, but those kids were working their non-existent bums off.
So we waited. And waited. And waited. After about 15 minutes an employee told me they had just put my pizza in the oven and he was really sorry and gave me a couple expired coupons for free crazy bread. So we waited some more.
Harrison was done sitting quietly by this time. I tried to find the balance between keeping him from driving everyone else in the place crazy, and giving him enough freedom that he wouldn't scream. I didn't do a very good job, but I honestly thought about trying harder. Some little kid sitting next to us was smacking his parents in the face with his balloon, so Harrison started doing it to me, and I was like "NUH UH." Then he wanted to roll around on the floor with his balloon, but I wasn't having any of that either.
I considered leaving, but thought, if I don't bring this pizza home to my family, how will I provide them with the nourishment they need? After around 20 minutes the same employee gave me my money back for the pizza. I said "Are you serious?" And he assurred me they were sorry that my pizza was taking so long. I wanted to ask how much longer it would be at this point, but after such a kind gesture on his part, I felt like that would be a little greedy of me.
So I just kept waiting. And it really would not have been a big deal if not for Harrison. He spent his time jumping in front of people on accident so that they tripped over him, sending their pizzas flying (OK. Nobody's pizza flew through the air. That would have been just so awesome), sticking his hand in the door to keep people from closing it (to which my response was "WHAT the CRAP are you doing???"), or patting strangers on the bum. The poor old lady he did that to probably had a mini heart attack from that little surprise.
At 5:30 I was just about to tell them that, Thank You, they had been very, very nice, but I was going to have to leave, when someone who looked like a manager came over with my pizza, an apology, and coupons for TWO free Hawaiian pizzas. Wow. Really, Wow. I thanked him for the excellent service and went home to scarf down my pizza. And I felt a little bad. Did the manager realize I already got my money back? Not to mention the crazy bread. Cuz while I did have to wait a while, that was a very profitable pizza acquiring expedition. And that is some seriously good customer service! Better than I would have ever expected from Little Ceasar's. Far from being annoyed and deciding to go somewhere else next time I want pizza, I'm gonna go back to L.C. because they were so nice to me. But, when that next time happens to roll around, you can bet your pajamas that I will be leaving Harrison with his Father.
At 5:00 Harrison and I pulled in to Little Ceasar's, (in order to beat the dinner rush) and I ordered a Hawaiian pizza. They used to have them hot and ready, but not any more. I didn't realize this. The cashier told me it would be about 5 minutes. No big deal. I grabbed a balloon for Harrison and we sat down to wait.
Turns out 5:00 on a Friday is NOT early enough to beat the dinner rush. It was packed. Crazy busy. I think Hot and Ready pizzas was probably the best thing Little Ceasar's ever did for themselves. The pizza is not fantastic, but it is cheap and it is available NOW. Those two qualities are pretty hard to resist. And those highschoolers employed there work really hard. People say teenagers are lazy, but those kids were working their non-existent bums off.
So we waited. And waited. And waited. After about 15 minutes an employee told me they had just put my pizza in the oven and he was really sorry and gave me a couple expired coupons for free crazy bread. So we waited some more.
Harrison was done sitting quietly by this time. I tried to find the balance between keeping him from driving everyone else in the place crazy, and giving him enough freedom that he wouldn't scream. I didn't do a very good job, but I honestly thought about trying harder. Some little kid sitting next to us was smacking his parents in the face with his balloon, so Harrison started doing it to me, and I was like "NUH UH." Then he wanted to roll around on the floor with his balloon, but I wasn't having any of that either.
I considered leaving, but thought, if I don't bring this pizza home to my family, how will I provide them with the nourishment they need? After around 20 minutes the same employee gave me my money back for the pizza. I said "Are you serious?" And he assurred me they were sorry that my pizza was taking so long. I wanted to ask how much longer it would be at this point, but after such a kind gesture on his part, I felt like that would be a little greedy of me.
So I just kept waiting. And it really would not have been a big deal if not for Harrison. He spent his time jumping in front of people on accident so that they tripped over him, sending their pizzas flying (OK. Nobody's pizza flew through the air. That would have been just so awesome), sticking his hand in the door to keep people from closing it (to which my response was "WHAT the CRAP are you doing???"), or patting strangers on the bum. The poor old lady he did that to probably had a mini heart attack from that little surprise.
At 5:30 I was just about to tell them that, Thank You, they had been very, very nice, but I was going to have to leave, when someone who looked like a manager came over with my pizza, an apology, and coupons for TWO free Hawaiian pizzas. Wow. Really, Wow. I thanked him for the excellent service and went home to scarf down my pizza. And I felt a little bad. Did the manager realize I already got my money back? Not to mention the crazy bread. Cuz while I did have to wait a while, that was a very profitable pizza acquiring expedition. And that is some seriously good customer service! Better than I would have ever expected from Little Ceasar's. Far from being annoyed and deciding to go somewhere else next time I want pizza, I'm gonna go back to L.C. because they were so nice to me. But, when that next time happens to roll around, you can bet your pajamas that I will be leaving Harrison with his Father.
Feb 19, 2010
Here I sit in my 3 year old's toy strewn room, laying on the floor at the foot of his bed, reading a book while he slowly drifts off to sleep. I cannot help but look at him and my heart skips a beat. He is everything I ever wanted. It hurts a little, loving him this much. He catches me watching him and grins and scrunches up his shoulders. I smile too, and we spend a few moments just grinning and shrugging at each other. It's like feeling your whole self expand from the inside. I live for these moments. For joy like this. I have never felt so complete. What more could I ever want than this?
Oh, right. Another one. A little girl would be nice.
Oh, right. Another one. A little girl would be nice.
Feb 18, 2010
What Valentine's Day is Really About
Just in time for V-Day my husband came down with the flu. So he spent most of the weekend watching NCIS and the V marathon on Syfy and reading The Silmarilian. And I spent the weekend eating every piece of chocolate and candy that I could get my hands on. And then I also made cookies and ate them too. Good times.
So, while we are discussing Valentine's and all the gooey love garbage that goes with it, let's not forget to discuss the most important, some might say pivotal, part of all Valentine's Day activities: SHOES.
I always think that I have told you all of my most secret secrets, but I might have left one out. I am 5'8". I guess all my other confessions didn't include that tasty bit of info. So, yes. The top of my head is 5 feet, 8 inches from the ground. Which really isn't that tall. There are all kinds of women taller than me. What is the average, about 5'6"? Hmm, I'm gonna look it up. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Oh. . . . . . . gee. . . The average height for women in the U.S. is 5'3". Now you know.
I tell you, it isn't all sunshine and rainbows being tall. It hard to find pants, strollers, or men tall enough. And for most of my life I have just felt TOO tall. My best friend was 5'2" (5'2 & 1/2", thank you very much), so I have always felt kind of, um, LARGE when I wasn't with my family. People often talk about tall women in vague exclamations of how enviable it is, but I've never heard them say why. I certainly couldn't ever see what was so great about it. All I knew was that I was taller than all the boys I liked, and I was always tripping over things.
I hear people complain about being short, but I was always jealous. The guys always seemed to like my short friends. I think there is something about a girl he can pick up with one hand and throw over his shoulder that is irresistible to a guy.
Here is a picture of me and some of my college roommates. Guess which one is me?
This is a picture with the short roommates, of course. I have a picture with some taller ones, but that would not have illustrated my point. Sheesh! It is no wonder I had a complex. I'm like a head taller than them!
And here is another picture that one of my roommates was kind enough to post on Facebook, for which I am very, very grateful.
This picture just cracks me up. I am like a giant. Why in the world am I so big? I look like I am standing on a stool or something, but I can't think of any reason why I would be.
Note to self: Rugby shirts make you look like a Rugby player. Please avoid.
So anyway, here I was three years into college; Tall and hating it. But then I went on a mission and things changed. Because it was a great, life-changing experience, but also because I had 8 different companions and all but 2 were the same height as me or taller. And even the short ones weren't very. For the first time in my life I wasn't associating with the tops of people's heads! (All right, I'm exaggerating here, but just go with it). And I had one companion who, though she was almost 6 Feet tall, wore heels all the time, and looked fantastic doing it. For the first time it occurred to me that I could be tall and proud of it.
So then I came home and married a guy 5 inches taller than me who loves high heels and I started wearing them and one day I suddenly realized that I actually LIKE being tall. When the Young Women come into Relief Society and we all get to stand up to do the theme and I find myself looking out over a sea of heads because I am wearing 4 inch heels, it makes me smile.
So, in honor of Valentine's Day, and as a gift to my husband, I got a pair of 5 inch heels. (I just went and measured them.) And they are really cute and pretty hard to walk in and I will probably be falling down even more than usual, but it is totally worth it! Happy Valentine's Day Shoes!
5" heels: $21.00.
Liking Your Height No Matter How Tall You Are: Priceless.
So, while we are discussing Valentine's and all the gooey love garbage that goes with it, let's not forget to discuss the most important, some might say pivotal, part of all Valentine's Day activities: SHOES.
I always think that I have told you all of my most secret secrets, but I might have left one out. I am 5'8". I guess all my other confessions didn't include that tasty bit of info. So, yes. The top of my head is 5 feet, 8 inches from the ground. Which really isn't that tall. There are all kinds of women taller than me. What is the average, about 5'6"? Hmm, I'm gonna look it up. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Oh. . . . . . . gee. . . The average height for women in the U.S. is 5'3". Now you know.
I tell you, it isn't all sunshine and rainbows being tall. It hard to find pants, strollers, or men tall enough. And for most of my life I have just felt TOO tall. My best friend was 5'2" (5'2 & 1/2", thank you very much), so I have always felt kind of, um, LARGE when I wasn't with my family. People often talk about tall women in vague exclamations of how enviable it is, but I've never heard them say why. I certainly couldn't ever see what was so great about it. All I knew was that I was taller than all the boys I liked, and I was always tripping over things.
I hear people complain about being short, but I was always jealous. The guys always seemed to like my short friends. I think there is something about a girl he can pick up with one hand and throw over his shoulder that is irresistible to a guy.
Here is a picture of me and some of my college roommates. Guess which one is me?
This is a picture with the short roommates, of course. I have a picture with some taller ones, but that would not have illustrated my point. Sheesh! It is no wonder I had a complex. I'm like a head taller than them!
And here is another picture that one of my roommates was kind enough to post on Facebook, for which I am very, very grateful.
This picture just cracks me up. I am like a giant. Why in the world am I so big? I look like I am standing on a stool or something, but I can't think of any reason why I would be.Note to self: Rugby shirts make you look like a Rugby player. Please avoid.
So anyway, here I was three years into college; Tall and hating it. But then I went on a mission and things changed. Because it was a great, life-changing experience, but also because I had 8 different companions and all but 2 were the same height as me or taller. And even the short ones weren't very. For the first time in my life I wasn't associating with the tops of people's heads! (All right, I'm exaggerating here, but just go with it). And I had one companion who, though she was almost 6 Feet tall, wore heels all the time, and looked fantastic doing it. For the first time it occurred to me that I could be tall and proud of it.
So then I came home and married a guy 5 inches taller than me who loves high heels and I started wearing them and one day I suddenly realized that I actually LIKE being tall. When the Young Women come into Relief Society and we all get to stand up to do the theme and I find myself looking out over a sea of heads because I am wearing 4 inch heels, it makes me smile.
So, in honor of Valentine's Day, and as a gift to my husband, I got a pair of 5 inch heels. (I just went and measured them.) And they are really cute and pretty hard to walk in and I will probably be falling down even more than usual, but it is totally worth it! Happy Valentine's Day Shoes!
5" heels: $21.00.
Liking Your Height No Matter How Tall You Are: Priceless.
Feb 3, 2010
How to Polish Your Plants
There are many, many things that I excel at. Cake Decorating and Photography are just a few that come to mind. Well, also Plants. And, apparently, writing good sentences, such as ones unto the similarity of this.
For today's lesson:
I realize I am probably telling you something you already know. But that is my job. That is actually what I have been assigned by the higher-ups to do; Tell you stuff you already know, like ....... I don't know, don't punch cows and stuff. Whatever.
So I live in a dusty house. I would swear that it is at least 3 times dustier than your average Utah home. And I deal with the dust by ignoring it. Which works wonders! Except today, for who knows what reason, I realized my plants were looking pretty sad. Ok, so the point!!
How to clean and polish your plants. Ta da!
The secret is mayonnaise. Mayonnaise will shine them up and make them look like plastic. (Which is the goal with live houseplants.) Lots of condiments have more than one use like this. You can use ketchup in your windowsill to seal up gaps, mustard will kill a beetle on contact, and pickles are great for throwing at people. Obviously. But the mayo on the plants really is real.
Here is my philodendron BEFORE. Can you see the dust? Can you tell that it is dirty enough to shock your mother-in-law and make her seriously concerned for her son's future?
No, I guess you really can't. You'll just have to trust me. It is worse than it looks.
And here is the plant AFTER polishing:
Wow! Just look at those leaves shine!
So, here is what you do:
Maybe you are worried about the smell. Don't worry , it will only smell like sulfur for a few weeks, and you probably won't even notice it anymore after a day or two. If neighbors come over and notice the smell, just blame it on them. That is Basic Hostessing 101.
So maybe there are some of you complaining that you can't even keep your plants alive. All plants are different, with differing needs, but it is safe to say that you are probably over watering them. Very few plants need to be watered every day. I water my plants no more than twice a month. The philodendron is one of my favorites because it starts to look very sad and droopy when it is thirsty and this reminds me to water all of them at once. And it works out perfectly. I also have an Umbrella Tree (or schefflera) that I stuck in an unused room once and forgot about for months. Barely even looked thirsty when I found it again. Just keep it out of direct sunlight and it never asks for a thing. I recommend finding a plant that is as needy as you are giving. I used to have plants that needed lots more love, attention, and water than I was willing to give and they have since died (actually, this happens with my relationships too). It is survival of the fittest at my house. You get on MY watering schedule, or you meet your doom.
The point is, there are plants out there that are beautiful and incredibly easy to maintain. I would tell you what more of them are, but then how would you ever learn anything? Most plants will tell you when they are getting thirsty, and it probably isn't as often as you think. Don't fret over your plant, don't water it every single day, give it the amount of sunlight the little tag that comes with it says to give it, and suddenly you'll find that you have had it for a whole year and it is still thriving.
So get out there, get a plant or two, polish those leaves (it doesn't really stink. I was only kidding), and feel like a botanical genius!
For today's lesson:
I realize I am probably telling you something you already know. But that is my job. That is actually what I have been assigned by the higher-ups to do; Tell you stuff you already know, like ....... I don't know, don't punch cows and stuff. Whatever.
So I live in a dusty house. I would swear that it is at least 3 times dustier than your average Utah home. And I deal with the dust by ignoring it. Which works wonders! Except today, for who knows what reason, I realized my plants were looking pretty sad. Ok, so the point!!
How to clean and polish your plants. Ta da!
The secret is mayonnaise. Mayonnaise will shine them up and make them look like plastic. (Which is the goal with live houseplants.) Lots of condiments have more than one use like this. You can use ketchup in your windowsill to seal up gaps, mustard will kill a beetle on contact, and pickles are great for throwing at people. Obviously. But the mayo on the plants really is real.
Here is my philodendron BEFORE. Can you see the dust? Can you tell that it is dirty enough to shock your mother-in-law and make her seriously concerned for her son's future?
No, I guess you really can't. You'll just have to trust me. It is worse than it looks.And here is the plant AFTER polishing:
Wow! Just look at those leaves shine!
So, here is what you do:
- Plop some mayo into a small bowl or plate.
- Put a paper towel or soft rag into your hand (right or left, the choice is yours).
- Get a little mayo on a corner of the rag and gentle rub it into a leaf. Continue rubbing and polishing until the mayo is rubbed in and it looks clean and shiny.
- Repeat with remaining leaves.
Maybe you are worried about the smell. Don't worry , it will only smell like sulfur for a few weeks, and you probably won't even notice it anymore after a day or two. If neighbors come over and notice the smell, just blame it on them. That is Basic Hostessing 101.
So maybe there are some of you complaining that you can't even keep your plants alive. All plants are different, with differing needs, but it is safe to say that you are probably over watering them. Very few plants need to be watered every day. I water my plants no more than twice a month. The philodendron is one of my favorites because it starts to look very sad and droopy when it is thirsty and this reminds me to water all of them at once. And it works out perfectly. I also have an Umbrella Tree (or schefflera) that I stuck in an unused room once and forgot about for months. Barely even looked thirsty when I found it again. Just keep it out of direct sunlight and it never asks for a thing. I recommend finding a plant that is as needy as you are giving. I used to have plants that needed lots more love, attention, and water than I was willing to give and they have since died (actually, this happens with my relationships too). It is survival of the fittest at my house. You get on MY watering schedule, or you meet your doom.
The point is, there are plants out there that are beautiful and incredibly easy to maintain. I would tell you what more of them are, but then how would you ever learn anything? Most plants will tell you when they are getting thirsty, and it probably isn't as often as you think. Don't fret over your plant, don't water it every single day, give it the amount of sunlight the little tag that comes with it says to give it, and suddenly you'll find that you have had it for a whole year and it is still thriving.
So get out there, get a plant or two, polish those leaves (it doesn't really stink. I was only kidding), and feel like a botanical genius!
Feb 2, 2010
The Best of 2009
Now I would like to preface this by saying that, while my taste is flawless, this isn't actually THE best of 2009. This isn't even really a list of my favorites from all the new things that came out last year because I am probably at least a couple years behind. (No jokes now.) I don't even listen to the radio, so how could I possibly tell you the best new song from 2009?
No, what this is is a list of my favorite things from last year. They might be new, they might be old, they might be neither new nor old, but just something I came into contact with, and liked and remembered enough to have them come to mind right now while I am typing this. Ok. Prepped enough? Yes, I hear you saying "Shut up already and get on it with!" So here we go!
Movies
Books
TV shows
Food
Recipes
Songs
Game
Number
So, anyone else want to do this? I would very much like to hear what everyone else's favorites of the year were. And did I miss anything? Should I include my favorite word or website or anything?
No, what this is is a list of my favorite things from last year. They might be new, they might be old, they might be neither new nor old, but just something I came into contact with, and liked and remembered enough to have them come to mind right now while I am typing this. Ok. Prepped enough? Yes, I hear you saying "Shut up already and get on it with!" So here we go!
Movies
- Star Trek
- Up
Books
- The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society
- The True Meaning of Smekday
- The Hunger Games
TV shows
- Doctor Who. The new one, of course. Yep, this is my very favorite show. And if that doesn't tell you just about everything there is to know about me, then I don't know what will.
- Warehouse 13
- Community. This show has some flaws, but there are just some things about it that make me laugh and laugh and laugh. I think it is my favorite new show of the year.
- Leverage
Food
- Pepperjack cheese. I am 31 years old, and only last year discovered pepperjack. And it has changed my life forever. I just now ate a pepperjack cheese quesadilla, and my happy belly and greasy keyboard can attest that it is delicious!!
Recipes
- Cheesy Roasted Red Pepper Dip (There. I hope this counts as forwarding the recipe to all those people I promised to send it to.)
- Tomato Chicken Alfredo
- Homemade Eclairs (And that's for you Alisha!)
Songs
- The Christmas Waltz (It was my favorite Christmas song this year. I just wanted to hear it all the time. That very rarely happens.)
- I Am The Highway - Audioslave
- Hey ya - Obadiah Parker (I never loved Outkast, but this version of the song makes my heart go all mushy. Sigh.)
Game
- Bananagrams (aka "Speed Scrabble")
- Runebound (for which my husband better consider himself pretty darn lucky)
Number
- 1,637,529. That number is just so hot right now!
So, anyone else want to do this? I would very much like to hear what everyone else's favorites of the year were. And did I miss anything? Should I include my favorite word or website or anything?
Jan 21, 2010
The Perks of Marriage
I know some of you are thinking "I am going to strangle my husband!" (or wife. Whatever) But don't do that. Because he really is a great guy. That's why you married him, after all. And being married is nice, most of the time. We all know there are a few things that make it hard, not the least of which is the fact that you are different after a few years of marriage than the young, virile, energetic, always-up-for-adventure single gal/guy you were when you got engaged.
I mean, who acts the same now as they did when they were dating?
Personally, I was too busy wanting him to like me to really let loose and be my unguarded self; i.e. eating corn-on-the-cob in front of him, laughing naturally (my actually laugh is mostly just a huge burst of a "BAAAAAAAA!!!" and tends to scare little kids), or tell him how much I really love watching TV. It's not like we don't care what our spouses think about us anymore, it's just that over time it seems we sort of forgot to put our Best Foot forward and all that's left is just our regular old Boring Foot.
So here we are, almost 8 years later, and I'm married to a guy who farts at the dinner table and reads "Building Application Frameworks" (which I'm going to bet is a lot LESS exciting than it sounds) in bed for fun. And he's married to a lady who snores like a trucker, and is always interrupting his relaxing nighttime reading by singing little ditties to him that go something like:
♪ "Nerd Reading! Reading for nerds. ♪ It's fun to read when you are a big nerd!♫
♫ Nerd Reading! But where are your glasses? ♪ How can you read without big dorky glasses?"♫
The lyrics aren't groundbreaking, but the tune is really quite catchy.
So, ANYWAY, the point is, after a while you realize you are married to someone who is just a person. A person who drives you crazy and makes you laugh and there are a whole lot of ups and downs, but BESIDES all the relationship stuff there are perks to just being married, which is why we have gathered together today. Besides the obvious ones of Companionship, Parenthood, and lots and lots of Money, there are perks you might not have expected or ever even thought about on your way into all this, which is a GOOD thing. Here are a few:
For Him:
For Her:
For Both:
So now it is time to sit down and think of some of the perks you enjoy about marriage. And spill it! I am truly interested to know!
I mean, who acts the same now as they did when they were dating?
Personally, I was too busy wanting him to like me to really let loose and be my unguarded self; i.e. eating corn-on-the-cob in front of him, laughing naturally (my actually laugh is mostly just a huge burst of a "BAAAAAAAA!!!" and tends to scare little kids), or tell him how much I really love watching TV. It's not like we don't care what our spouses think about us anymore, it's just that over time it seems we sort of forgot to put our Best Foot forward and all that's left is just our regular old Boring Foot.
So here we are, almost 8 years later, and I'm married to a guy who farts at the dinner table and reads "Building Application Frameworks" (which I'm going to bet is a lot LESS exciting than it sounds) in bed for fun. And he's married to a lady who snores like a trucker, and is always interrupting his relaxing nighttime reading by singing little ditties to him that go something like:
♪ "Nerd Reading! Reading for nerds. ♪ It's fun to read when you are a big nerd!♫
♫ Nerd Reading! But where are your glasses? ♪ How can you read without big dorky glasses?"♫
The lyrics aren't groundbreaking, but the tune is really quite catchy.
So, ANYWAY, the point is, after a while you realize you are married to someone who is just a person. A person who drives you crazy and makes you laugh and there are a whole lot of ups and downs, but BESIDES all the relationship stuff there are perks to just being married, which is why we have gathered together today. Besides the obvious ones of Companionship, Parenthood, and lots and lots of Money, there are perks you might not have expected or ever even thought about on your way into all this, which is a GOOD thing. Here are a few:
For Him:
- A Greeting Card Company: He now has someone that will send Thank You cards to his Grandma, and Birthday cards to his mother (This list is meant to be general, and not necessarily specific to me. My husband doesn't have a wife who does this, but some men do, and they are very lucky.)
- A purse. While still being manly and not overloading his pockets, he gets to enjoy the benefits of a purse. He can have his wife carry stuff in her purse for him, like his cell phone, wallet, scriptures, wire cutters, zip-lock baggy full of worms, etc.
- A Spider Killer. That's right. I am the Spider Killer in this relationship. I believe it is truly important that each relationship have one, so keep that in mind when searching for your eternal companion.
- A memory bank. Now he no longer has to remember his phone number or the phone numbers of any of his friends and family, his social security number, important dates and birthdays, directions to his mom's house, how old he is, etc. His memory can essentially shut down without negatively affecting his life at all!
For Her:
- Insta-heater. When her feet are cold at night she can just stick them on his legs and shazam! Warm Toes!
- A Comforter: Waking up from a nightmare is no longer a big deal because HE is there.
- A Pipe-thawer-outer. When the pex pipes freeze in the middle of the night, in the dead of winter, and someone is going to have to crawl under the house with a blow dryer to try to thaw them out, the wife can happily curl up in the warmth of her bed, thanking her lucky stars for her gender.
- A Noise Investigator. Hear an unexplained bump in the night? Now that you are a married woman, you no longer have to curl up under the covers with only a finger-sized hole to breath out of, replaying your favorite episodes of The Office in your head until you forget all about that weird sound you heard and just fall back to sleep already. Now you can just send your man to check it out!
- And I just realized that all of the benefits for woman have to do with night time. I think what that really means is that I'm scared of the dark and the cold. I'm positive it doesn't mean anything deeper than that.
- A back cracker. Without my husband, I would live in constant pain and misalignment.
For Both:
- A built in excuse. Don't want to go somewhere? Blame it on your spouse!
- A checkpoint before you walk out the door: Someone to say ''Wait sweetie, your skirt is tucked into your nylons again, or, "Hey! Your fly is down" before you waltz out into the open for all the world to see. Which is why Richard gets so mad at me when He realizes he forgot to do his hair and has been walking around with a fuzzy head all day and I didn't say anything! (Or even notice) That is my job!
- Being with someone who gets you. If my husband ever sat me down, and wanted to sing painfully cheesy loves songs to me, like Enrique Iglesias, or Richard Marx, I would probably have to punch him in the head. But he doesn't. Which is why we are still happily married.
- Learning to Truly Communicate with Another Person: Sometimes it feels like trying to communicate with my husband is about as effective as exchanging information through an elaborate dance involving The Running Man, beating each other with sticks, and wordy legal contracts. BUT, if we stick with it, every once in a while we actually manage to really understand each other. And THAT is priceless.
So now it is time to sit down and think of some of the perks you enjoy about marriage. And spill it! I am truly interested to know!
The Saddest Happy
So adoption is a miracle, and it is wonderful and has blessed my life in countless ways, but sometimes it just sucks. I subscribe to this really great blog called The Happiest Sad written by a girl who placed her baby for adoption 9 or 10 months ago. I love it. Her insight is fantastic and stuff I think I need to hear. Recently she gave a list of questions that a birth parent might want to ask when choosing an adoptive couple. It was a good idea and included lots of good questions, but also reminded me how much pressure there is on us to be perfect. Which is impossible. And not just because it is actually impossible but because every girl's idea of perfect is different.
But one of her questions bothered me. It was why the couple chose adoption. Is it something they are both excited about, or is it a second best way of having a family? If I step back, I can see that it is a good question. You don't want birth parents who are bitter about the whole thing. But at the same time, it sounds like adoption should have been my first choice. And I am sorry, but who would choose this? I'm not one of those women who is grateful not to have to go through the pains of childbirth. Quite the opposite. All I want is to have children, but that is only possible if a girl I don't even know happens to decide she likes me based on a picture and a paragraph. What if your ability to get pregnant was contingent upon the whims of a stranger, or their parents?
I do sound a little bitter, don't I? I know part of it is just where I currently am in the adoption process. We have been in the adoption pool for 14 months. We have had a few nibbles in that time and every time we try not to get our hopes up and every time we fail. I imagine it's a little like having a miscarriage. I know I shouldn't fall in love with that baby, but I can't help myself. Someone dangles a baby in front of me just long enough for me to hope, and then yanks it away. Why would I choose this?
The flip side is looking at it all from the perspective of 3 years ago. Harrison's birth mother chose us and 2 months later we took our baby home. And she is wonderful and he is everything. I couldn't love him more. I couldn't have produced anything as amazing as him. So, no, adoption is not my first choice, but I am immensely grateful for it, because it brought me my little boy. I love him and I love his birth mother and I am truly happy that she is part of our lives. It is a blessing I never would have chosen, but who ever said I knew what was best for me?
Yeah, adoption is hard, but I have faith. I know it will work out eventually and someday we will bring another baby home. Because I know it is not just based on the whims of girl but is carefully watched over by a very loving Father in heaven. I know it. Even when it is hard I still know it. I wish it was easier, but that is not really how life works. So for now, all we can do is wait. Wait and pray. . . And wait some more. . . . . . And occasionally slip our pass along cards into pregnancy test packages.
Jan 10, 2010
You Dirty Bum.
If you are eating messy foods, like, for instance, bbq chicken wings, and you find yourself without a napkin, and are at a total loss what to do with your messy hands, just remember that your bum is always an option.
And with some misdirection, careful maneuvering, and traveling from room to room with your bum to the wall, nobody else ever needs to know!
Jan 9, 2010
The Christmas of The Skull
So, Christmas. It's over. Has been for a little while now. I hope that it has been long enough that I can bring it up again without reopening old wounds. (Christmas is painful. Don't tell me it's not.) I've never really been into Santa Claus. I think the tradition is silly. I don't usually tell people that though, especially around Christmas. Bagging on Santa at Christmas is a little like running into a sports bar and shouting "Football is Stupid!" Every idiot knows that is just a bad idea.
But that is not what I wanted to say. Not even why I sat down. I even thought about deleting the above paragraph, but that "football is stupid" line just cracks me up.
So lets get serious and begin our discussion of Christmas in the natural place: Halloween.
Harrison thought Halloween was awesome. Far from being scared by any of it, he loved it all. And the one thing that stuck once Halloween was over was his love of all things skeleton. Several times a day we talked about skeletons, and I finally checked him some books out of the library about them because every night he was asking me to read him a skeleton book. (And sing him a skeleton song, of course. So now my awesome, honky rendition of "Dem Bones" is the lullaby of choice each night.)
The first time I drew him a dinky skeleton on a piece of paper he was thrilled. He never let it out of his sight and had to show it to his dad when he got home from work. He also asked for it first thing the next morning, but by then I had thrown it away.
So, being the kind and benevolent mother that I am, I went online and found him his favorite old Ben and Jerry's skeleton and printed it out on some white paper. He stood next to me while I cut it out and taped it together and he was so excited he was crying. I kept saying "You gotta stop crying. I"m doing it." He would say "Yeah", but then his excitement would get he better of him and he would start to cry again.
Paper toys are awesome. Very cheap, easy to store, pretty simple to repair. Mostly. For a little while. That skeleton was just not durable enough for the love it was showered with, and I got sick of taping it together. So, (wow, are you bored yet? I feel like I have been writing this forever! Feel free to leave now if you like. Is not like this story is really going anywhere.) inspired by my mom, I made him a skeleton out of shrinky dinks.
That went over pretty well. He likes skeletons even better when they are wearing Santa hats. He requested this one special:
But was NOT pleased about having its picture taken.
Anyway, I bought him a skeleton for Christmas. A cool little 9" tall anatomy model. And due to some shocking oversight on my part, it was the very first present he opened. He was so excited, all he wanted to do was open it and put it together and play with it. He could have cared less about the rest of the gifts. We had to coax and cajole to get him to open anything else. It's not like he had that much stuff, but when he didn't want to open any of them, it just felt like a lot of stuff we had to talk him into unwrapping.
We did stop in the middle and put the darn skeleton together, to Harrison's utter glee, and then I had to bribe him to open the rest, like I do when I want him to finish his food. "Just two more presents Harrison! Just open two more presents and you can play with your skeleton!" He calls it Skull and loves it more than me.
This picture was taken right before Skull beat up G.I. Joe and took his vest and boots.
To the victor go the spoils:
It turns out the other half of the battle is actually knowing how to fight, which apparently G.I Joe doesn't. Poor Joe.
And that is all! The end! Good for you!
But that is not what I wanted to say. Not even why I sat down. I even thought about deleting the above paragraph, but that "football is stupid" line just cracks me up.
So lets get serious and begin our discussion of Christmas in the natural place: Halloween.
Harrison thought Halloween was awesome. Far from being scared by any of it, he loved it all. And the one thing that stuck once Halloween was over was his love of all things skeleton. Several times a day we talked about skeletons, and I finally checked him some books out of the library about them because every night he was asking me to read him a skeleton book. (And sing him a skeleton song, of course. So now my awesome, honky rendition of "Dem Bones" is the lullaby of choice each night.)
The first time I drew him a dinky skeleton on a piece of paper he was thrilled. He never let it out of his sight and had to show it to his dad when he got home from work. He also asked for it first thing the next morning, but by then I had thrown it away.
So, being the kind and benevolent mother that I am, I went online and found him his favorite old Ben and Jerry's skeleton and printed it out on some white paper. He stood next to me while I cut it out and taped it together and he was so excited he was crying. I kept saying "You gotta stop crying. I"m doing it." He would say "Yeah", but then his excitement would get he better of him and he would start to cry again.
Paper toys are awesome. Very cheap, easy to store, pretty simple to repair. Mostly. For a little while. That skeleton was just not durable enough for the love it was showered with, and I got sick of taping it together. So, (wow, are you bored yet? I feel like I have been writing this forever! Feel free to leave now if you like. Is not like this story is really going anywhere.) inspired by my mom, I made him a skeleton out of shrinky dinks.
That went over pretty well. He likes skeletons even better when they are wearing Santa hats. He requested this one special:
Anyway, I bought him a skeleton for Christmas. A cool little 9" tall anatomy model. And due to some shocking oversight on my part, it was the very first present he opened. He was so excited, all he wanted to do was open it and put it together and play with it. He could have cared less about the rest of the gifts. We had to coax and cajole to get him to open anything else. It's not like he had that much stuff, but when he didn't want to open any of them, it just felt like a lot of stuff we had to talk him into unwrapping.
We did stop in the middle and put the darn skeleton together, to Harrison's utter glee, and then I had to bribe him to open the rest, like I do when I want him to finish his food. "Just two more presents Harrison! Just open two more presents and you can play with your skeleton!" He calls it Skull and loves it more than me.
And that is all! The end! Good for you!
Love is in the Air (or is it the in water?)
For the record, I am not trying to get pregnant. 4 years ago it was eating me up inside, but now I think I have come to terms with my infertility, thanks in large part to a very small boy, who is so cute it hurts a little.
I am, however, writing about infertility, and was looking for some weird tips and tricks people like to give you to get pregnant. I looked online for the Old Wives Health Almanac, but all I could find were tricks to planning the gender of the baby. Some of those are pretty whacked. But I couldn't find anything on actually getting pregnant.
I was thinking that was kind of weird, but maybe because medical science hasn't had any luck in the gender control area, herb lore and witch craft still holds the corner on the market. And maybe because modern medicine has been so successful at getting people pregnant all the old wives tales in that area have faded away. Who knows.
And you all are so nice. If there is anyone who is looking for just a little help in the getting pregnant area, you've come to the right place. Here you have access to lots of really great, supportive people, with lots of really helpful advice. So thanks.
But while we're on the subject, does it seem like this has been the Christmas for babies, or what? I don't know about you, but over here, there seems to be something in the water cuz babies are coming out of the woodwork! (And don't make fun of me. I know where babies come from.) Within the last month there have been babies poppin out of:
A friend who has been trying for 6 or 7 years to get pregnant again.
A friend who was surprised with baby number three, after being sure she was all done.
3 friends who have been married for years but are finally having their first. (They are friends, but I don't actually know whether the waiting was a choice or not. I always wondered, but never asked.)
My brother and his wife. Hooray!
My husband's cousin and his wife who have been trying to adopt for a while, and just brought home their first little girl from the hospital.
Not to mention all the babies born throughout the world that I don't know about, which has got to bring this number up to at least 10. That is a lot!
I am, however, writing about infertility, and was looking for some weird tips and tricks people like to give you to get pregnant. I looked online for the Old Wives Health Almanac, but all I could find were tricks to planning the gender of the baby. Some of those are pretty whacked. But I couldn't find anything on actually getting pregnant.
I was thinking that was kind of weird, but maybe because medical science hasn't had any luck in the gender control area, herb lore and witch craft still holds the corner on the market. And maybe because modern medicine has been so successful at getting people pregnant all the old wives tales in that area have faded away. Who knows.
And you all are so nice. If there is anyone who is looking for just a little help in the getting pregnant area, you've come to the right place. Here you have access to lots of really great, supportive people, with lots of really helpful advice. So thanks.
But while we're on the subject, does it seem like this has been the Christmas for babies, or what? I don't know about you, but over here, there seems to be something in the water cuz babies are coming out of the woodwork! (And don't make fun of me. I know where babies come from.) Within the last month there have been babies poppin out of:
A friend who has been trying for 6 or 7 years to get pregnant again.
A friend who was surprised with baby number three, after being sure she was all done.
3 friends who have been married for years but are finally having their first. (They are friends, but I don't actually know whether the waiting was a choice or not. I always wondered, but never asked.)
My brother and his wife. Hooray!
My husband's cousin and his wife who have been trying to adopt for a while, and just brought home their first little girl from the hospital.
Not to mention all the babies born throughout the world that I don't know about, which has got to bring this number up to at least 10. That is a lot!
Dec 16, 2009
Pregnancy for Dummies
Hey, I am doing some research and would like to know:
What crazy advice have you heard or received for how to get pregnant? What tips or tricks did your great grandmother tell you they used to do back in the day? What weird, Old Wives Tale types of thing have you heard? My inquiring mind wants to know!
What crazy advice have you heard or received for how to get pregnant? What tips or tricks did your great grandmother tell you they used to do back in the day? What weird, Old Wives Tale types of thing have you heard? My inquiring mind wants to know!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
