12-16-12
I wanted boiled eggs for lunch, but it is too selfish to boil enough eggs (6) to fill myself up, so I made Top Ramen instead. The Ramen didn't cut it, so I ended up boiling eggs, too. Just not 6 of them.
1-13-13
Steve got up with the baby this morning so I could sleep in, but, even though I was way tired, I just lay in there and felt guilty for sleeping in.
1-14-13
I sat at the elementary for an hour, doing nothing, because I'm too much of a doormat to go to the office and ask the very nice receptionist to page the teachers.
Sunday, December 16, 2012
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
Vicarious Blogging
My best friend (you know who you are) has a hilarious life and has decided that blogging is not for her, so I'm doing it for her.
She's originally from Argentina and has a very heavy accent. Money's tight, so she registered to be a substitute teacher. She finally gets called to teach, and it's 12th grade Honor's English.
Yes, English is her second language.
No, she's not comfortable teaching it.
Nor is she comfortable with teenagers.
Who want to physically fight each other over whether or not they're gay.
The highlight of the day, however, was when a student asked a technical question, and she responded, "I don't know. Google it." Especially since she found out later that students aren't allowed to Google anything.
Or was it when the students had to quote Macbeth to her, and when asked if they did it correctly, she said, "I don't know."
Ah, Cecilia. The joy you bring to my life.
She's originally from Argentina and has a very heavy accent. Money's tight, so she registered to be a substitute teacher. She finally gets called to teach, and it's 12th grade Honor's English.
Yes, English is her second language.
No, she's not comfortable teaching it.
Nor is she comfortable with teenagers.
Who want to physically fight each other over whether or not they're gay.
The highlight of the day, however, was when a student asked a technical question, and she responded, "I don't know. Google it." Especially since she found out later that students aren't allowed to Google anything.
Or was it when the students had to quote Macbeth to her, and when asked if they did it correctly, she said, "I don't know."
Ah, Cecilia. The joy you bring to my life.
Saturday, December 1, 2012
Hair Dying Adventures
My mom and I have been going to this beauty school that's near our house to have our hair done because it's about half the price of a regular salon. Well, with Christmas coming up, I didn't want to spend even that much on myself, so we ended up buying hair dye at Wal*Mart and dying each other's hair. We discovered some very important things:
1)Hair dye comes off of all surfaces, including skin, with frightening ease if you use a baby wipe.
2)If your local grocery store doesn't have the hair dye brushes that salons use, cheap-o house painting brushes work just as well.
3)Medium Brown hair dye looks like very dirty pudding.
4)Bright Auburn hair dye looks exactly like grape jelly.
5)It's really quite easy to dye someone else's hair, and worth it when the dye kit is $2.25 on sale.
On another note, my parents bought us a new couch for Christmas (whoot-whoot!), and my dad drove it to our remote location. As we were driving, we passed a car that had a live chicken in the back window. The chicken was white with black spots. And it was pecking the back of a girl's head.
The car was also quite nice, which didn't fit in well with the whole situation.
And as I couldn't sleep last night, the probing question that wouldn't leave me alone is: How a bat goes from flying to hanging upside down in a cave? Do they scrabble around for a hold? Do they quit flying? Sadly, I can find no videos to assuage my grief-stricken curiosity.
1)Hair dye comes off of all surfaces, including skin, with frightening ease if you use a baby wipe.
2)If your local grocery store doesn't have the hair dye brushes that salons use, cheap-o house painting brushes work just as well.
3)Medium Brown hair dye looks like very dirty pudding.
4)Bright Auburn hair dye looks exactly like grape jelly.
5)It's really quite easy to dye someone else's hair, and worth it when the dye kit is $2.25 on sale.
On another note, my parents bought us a new couch for Christmas (whoot-whoot!), and my dad drove it to our remote location. As we were driving, we passed a car that had a live chicken in the back window. The chicken was white with black spots. And it was pecking the back of a girl's head.
The car was also quite nice, which didn't fit in well with the whole situation.
And as I couldn't sleep last night, the probing question that wouldn't leave me alone is: How a bat goes from flying to hanging upside down in a cave? Do they scrabble around for a hold? Do they quit flying? Sadly, I can find no videos to assuage my grief-stricken curiosity.
Saturday, November 24, 2012
Dog Drama
So, we all know how special Kellin is, right? Special in every meaning of the word (including short-bus special). His back end doesn't work so well anymore, but it's not such a big deal at home because we have main-level living. He does collapse now if he bumps into you, which is sad, but unavoidable.
Well, at my parents' house he has an entire flight of stairs to deal with every morning and night. He can go down, no problem, but going up is a frightening experience. If he loses it on his back end, he slides all the way to the bottom. On vacation, he accidentally stepped into the stairwell and totally freaked. This morning, at my parents', he made it 2/3 of the way up, then collapsed and couldn't go any further. I was standing behind him, knowing this happens, so he didn't slide all the way down, but he absolutely could not get back on his feet. I ended up having to carry his full weight, all 70+ pounds of him, up the rest of the stairs (and around a curve). It was not a good experience.
What makes these kinds of things so much worse is the fact that Kellin's 12. For a lab, that's pretty dang old.
I hate drawing nearer to putting him to sleep. There's a reason I'm not God.
Well, at my parents' house he has an entire flight of stairs to deal with every morning and night. He can go down, no problem, but going up is a frightening experience. If he loses it on his back end, he slides all the way to the bottom. On vacation, he accidentally stepped into the stairwell and totally freaked. This morning, at my parents', he made it 2/3 of the way up, then collapsed and couldn't go any further. I was standing behind him, knowing this happens, so he didn't slide all the way down, but he absolutely could not get back on his feet. I ended up having to carry his full weight, all 70+ pounds of him, up the rest of the stairs (and around a curve). It was not a good experience.
What makes these kinds of things so much worse is the fact that Kellin's 12. For a lab, that's pretty dang old.
I hate drawing nearer to putting him to sleep. There's a reason I'm not God.
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
Pirate Mummy
I'm totally addicted to the blog cakewrecks.squarespace.com
And I totally want this cake.
Seriously.
Which frightens me.
And I totally want this cake.
Seriously.
Which frightens me.
Sunday, October 21, 2012
Stake Conference
I've been teaching Fay a few signs. She knows "red" and "stop" and "Jesus." We were getting ready for stake conference this morning, and she found a picture of Jesus in the magazine and started pointing at it, then signing Jesus.
Steve cried.
I almost did.
Then, at stake conference, Steve took Fay to change her diaper. When he came back, he handed me the diaper bag. It was wet.
Steve sat it in pee in the men's bathroom.
Then in my lap.
My life is a gift.
Steve cried.
I almost did.
Then, at stake conference, Steve took Fay to change her diaper. When he came back, he handed me the diaper bag. It was wet.
Steve sat it in pee in the men's bathroom.
Then in my lap.
My life is a gift.
Thursday, October 11, 2012
The Orange Door
There's been this commercial on TV a lot lately from Home Depot advertising that you can paint your front door for under $50, so I've been begging Steve to let me do it. He finally agreed that I could. I was going to use leftover paint from our house, but I realized I should probably use exterior paint on the door.
That's where everything went downhill.
For Steve.
I must have hit him at a good time because, as you're reading this, my front door is bright orange. And I mean traffic cone orange, people.
It gives me joy.
It occurred to me, later, that it could also stand as a symbol for all of the things that Steve loves me more than. Such as...
1-Steve loves me more than he loves his own choice of color (he's Mr. Beige).
2-Steve loves me more than he does his own pride
3-Steve loves me more than he cares about what his friends think
4-Steve loves me more than what any random person that drives past our house thinks
That's an awful lot of love, people.
If I ever find my camera, you'll see just how much love.
'Cuz you'll see the door.
Get your mind out of the gutter
That's where everything went downhill.
For Steve.
I must have hit him at a good time because, as you're reading this, my front door is bright orange. And I mean traffic cone orange, people.
It gives me joy.
It occurred to me, later, that it could also stand as a symbol for all of the things that Steve loves me more than. Such as...
1-Steve loves me more than he loves his own choice of color (he's Mr. Beige).
2-Steve loves me more than he does his own pride
3-Steve loves me more than he cares about what his friends think
4-Steve loves me more than what any random person that drives past our house thinks
That's an awful lot of love, people.
If I ever find my camera, you'll see just how much love.
'Cuz you'll see the door.
Get your mind out of the gutter
Sunday, September 16, 2012
"Camping"
Grandma, Grandpa, Steve, Fay, and I all went to Duck Creek Village for a week to celebrate Steve's and my 10th wedding anniversary (even though that doesn't happen until October). We stayed in a gorgeous cabin and I'm so ready to leave everything and live in Duck Creek for the rest of my life.
Fay has become obsessed with praying. She constantly folds her arms and, if you don't comply, will bow her head and close her eyes for a split second before looking up again. It's cute as heck, but we're running out of things to pray about. At Wal*Mart yesterday, I said, "Thank you for the green stuff," because there were bottles with green liquid outside the store.
She can pray and loves MacGyver. I have succeeded as a parent.
Fay has become obsessed with praying. She constantly folds her arms and, if you don't comply, will bow her head and close her eyes for a split second before looking up again. It's cute as heck, but we're running out of things to pray about. At Wal*Mart yesterday, I said, "Thank you for the green stuff," because there were bottles with green liquid outside the store.
She can pray and loves MacGyver. I have succeeded as a parent.
Friday, August 24, 2012
Theme Songs
Disney Channel and Disney XD have tons of shows (obviously) and lots of different theme songs. The best one I've ever heard is:
One would think, "Hey, if Disney XD can come up with an awesome theme song like that, the others must rock, too! Right?"
Wrong:
Disappointing. Especially since it's my birthday. And the star of A.N.T. Farm can really sing.
Monday, August 13, 2012
Sunday, August 12, 2012
Abby's Flying Fairy School Theme Song
Look up high, in the sky,
It's a school; it can fly!
Let's all hurry to the flying fairy school.
Grab your wands.
Yee-haw!
Bring your wings.
(Giggle)
We will learn magic things.
Let's all hurry to the flying fairy school.
How to make things grow.
And how to make things shrink.
How to solve a problem with our single twinkle think.
This school is really magic,
(something, something, something).
Let's go in, let's begin, at flying fairy school.
(The whole point of putting this up is because I can't figure out that one line and no one has the lyrics on the Internet. So I'm the firstie. And cool. And mature.)
Saturday, July 14, 2012
Stupid Freaking YouTube
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
Drawers
Fay has learned how to open the drawers in her dresser. When she closes them, her fingers are lapped over the end and she shuts them in the drawer. She makes this exact face, but her hands are not by her head. She makes no noise whatsoever and does not even change the rate of her breathing. She'll slip her fingers out and immediately assume a calm, unconcerned expression. Why? Because she knows that if she does something that hurts her, I won't let her do it anymore.
Hilarious!
Sunday, July 1, 2012
Choices
I've always let Fay choose what she wants to eat, ever since she started baby food. Like, for breakfast, I'll bring two boxes of cereal and let her choose one.
She always, always, chooses Honeycomb now. It's quite funny.
She threw up for three straight days last week and had diarrhea for 8 days. It's the first time she's been sick, so it was kind of scary for me, but she also got her fifth tooth, in the process.
She likes to "jump" on the couch now, and gets way freaking excited when she does. She just stands near the edge (what's the fun if you can't die?) and bounces without her feet ever leaving the cushion.
She always, always, chooses Honeycomb now. It's quite funny.
She threw up for three straight days last week and had diarrhea for 8 days. It's the first time she's been sick, so it was kind of scary for me, but she also got her fifth tooth, in the process.
She likes to "jump" on the couch now, and gets way freaking excited when she does. She just stands near the edge (what's the fun if you can't die?) and bounces without her feet ever leaving the cushion.
Sunday, June 10, 2012
El Jelly Science
So there's this really great Mexican place my parents found, called The Taco Shop (or El Jeliscience). On the way home, I decided to get a bean and cheese burrito and eat it later. Bad idea. Very bad idea.
Did you know that a cold bean and cheese burrito tastes exactly like Play Dough?
Well, now you do.
And, trust me, I ate enough of the stuff as a kid to know.
Did you know that a cold bean and cheese burrito tastes exactly like Play Dough?
Well, now you do.
And, trust me, I ate enough of the stuff as a kid to know.
1st Birthday
We took Fay to the zoo for her first birthday. She paid a lot more attention to the animals than she did when we went to the zoo after finalization. She fell and scratched her knee, but didn't say a word about it. If anything, she's happy because now she has a scab to pick.
Her birth mother called, and it was really nice to talk to her. She's getting married soon. A day or two ago, our caseworker called to tell us that the birth mother has gone AWOL. I wasn't worried until I had a nightmare last night that she came for Fay and I woke up in a panicked prayer.
I hope she just eloped and that everything's fine.
Her birth mother called, and it was really nice to talk to her. She's getting married soon. A day or two ago, our caseworker called to tell us that the birth mother has gone AWOL. I wasn't worried until I had a nightmare last night that she came for Fay and I woke up in a panicked prayer.
I hope she just eloped and that everything's fine.
Saturday, May 26, 2012
The Slide
My parents bought a combination slide/swing for Fay for her first birthday, and she loves it. I didn't realize just how much until I moved it to vacuum today and she totally started crying because she couldn't see it anymore. She hurried into the pet room and climbed up it, totally like, "Excuse me, this is mine, and I didn't say you could touch it." She wouldn't leave it for, like, 15 minutes, either.
Apparently my parents buy good presents.
Apparently my parents buy good presents.
Thursday, May 24, 2012
Hypothermia
So, I can't work on the third book of the Destine series because I have to get the second book finalized first, and I started a new book today. I was writing about how a guy fell through the ice at Cave Lake and is suffering from, you guessed it, hypothermia, and I got so cold I had to go take a melt-the-flesh-off-your-bones-it's-so-hot shower. Keep in mind, it's May. And 80 degrees. And I have no air conditioning. Now I have the munchies, too, because all that's in the fictional house is a head of wilted lettuce and half a cup of expired milk.
Yes, I'll gladly accept the Queen of the Dorks crown.
Thank you for thinking of me.
Yes, I'll gladly accept the Queen of the Dorks crown.
Thank you for thinking of me.
Sunday, May 20, 2012
Swimming
I took Fay swimming for the first time yesterday, and she actually liked it. I thought she'd freak out and not want me to put her in the water, let alone in the little baby inner tube thing I had, but she totally dug it. Of course, she tried to drink the water, but that's only to be expected. We were there for over an hour, and she loved it the entire time. She even started to kick.
Thanks, Evelyn and Emily!
Thanks, Evelyn and Emily!
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
The Wonders of the Internet
You know, I often think about, not too long ago, how hard it was find out information about anything. I'd always wonder, "How does that work?" or "Why is the sky blue?" but it wasn't worth the effort of going to the library and trying to find a book that could tell me. Now, any question you have about anything, all you have to do is type it into Google and, the next thing you know, you have hundreds of thousands of answers, videos, and pictures.
Like, for example, how to get super glue off your skin.
No, I've never used it before.
No, Steve probably won't let me use it again.
Like, for example, how to get super glue off your skin.
No, I've never used it before.
No, Steve probably won't let me use it again.
Monday, May 14, 2012
1st Mother's Day
My first Mother's Day wasn't what I expected. To be fair, Steve's on graves, so he was asleep all day, and church was wicked hot, but I still thought I'd get breakfast in bed or something. Eric and Evelyn bought me a beautiful flower arrangement, which was nice. Maybe motherhood is just so good that everything else pales in comparison. It's highly possible.
Friday, May 11, 2012
One is the Loneliest Number
In all of my awesomeness, I have one friend. Count them, one. This friend, who shall remain nameless, hasn't called me in about six years. Okay, so it's more like six days, but, still. She did leave a message on my machine, but when I called back she didn't answer.
Just saying.
Just saying.
Sunday, May 6, 2012
I'm the Winner!
Fay said, "Da-da" first, but I got the first, "I love you."
Ha!
How do you like those apples?
Ha!
How do you like those apples?
Sunday, April 8, 2012
Wii and Netflix
So our Wii has suddenly decided it's no longer connected to the Internet. We've fought with it all day. I got it going earlier this morning, but now it's gone kerplooey again. We called NetFlix, and they told us to call Nintendo. We did all of the 6 billion steps on Nintendo's website, and it kept reassuring us that if none of them worked we'd be given a number to contact Nintendo.
Guess what?
The link to get the phone number to contact Nintendo doesn't work.
The baby's asleep, we want to watch Warehouse 13, and instead we're stuck trying to figure out how to make the stinking thing realize that it IS connected to the Internet. Just like it was last night. And this morning.
On a side note, Nintendo's website is increasingly aggravating, and you can't contact them at all, but Netflix gave me their phone number (ha, ha), so I'm giving it to EVERYONE.
1-800-255-3700
Guess what?
The link to get the phone number to contact Nintendo doesn't work.
The baby's asleep, we want to watch Warehouse 13, and instead we're stuck trying to figure out how to make the stinking thing realize that it IS connected to the Internet. Just like it was last night. And this morning.
On a side note, Nintendo's website is increasingly aggravating, and you can't contact them at all, but Netflix gave me their phone number (ha, ha), so I'm giving it to EVERYONE.
1-800-255-3700
Sunday, April 1, 2012
Issues
I think we all know I have issues. For example, the way I have to use every crayon in the box (except the stupid white one) once before I can use any color a second time. Or how when I get my Bountiful Basket I have to keep the fruits and vegetables segregated.
But today I discovered a whole new issue. I was sitting on the couch just now, listening to the silence of Fay sleeping and eating the last of the frozen Reese's Peanut Butter Cup Eggs, thinking to myself how I had it made. Then I got looking at Fay's Christmas pictures on the wall (yes, I know it's April), and I got thinking how funny it is when she cries hysterically (like she did for the photographer) and I thought, "I hope she hurries and wakes up so I can see her cry."
Issues.
But today I discovered a whole new issue. I was sitting on the couch just now, listening to the silence of Fay sleeping and eating the last of the frozen Reese's Peanut Butter Cup Eggs, thinking to myself how I had it made. Then I got looking at Fay's Christmas pictures on the wall (yes, I know it's April), and I got thinking how funny it is when she cries hysterically (like she did for the photographer) and I thought, "I hope she hurries and wakes up so I can see her cry."
Issues.
Thursday, March 29, 2012
1st (Half) Step
At the moment, I'm fighting off a sinus infection/bronchitis, so I'm a bad mother and just realized I needed to document this. Fay took her first unassisted step! Okay, it was a half step (once her foot was in the air, she just leaned for me and waited to be caught), but she did it! Of course, Steve was right there, but he missed it. He was ticked.
BTW, this happened two days ago.
I know, bad mommy.
Now it's April 25th and I'm just getting around to announcing that my baby is officially a walker. She has been since around the 15th.
Still a bad mommy.
BTW, this happened two days ago.
I know, bad mommy.
Now it's April 25th and I'm just getting around to announcing that my baby is officially a walker. She has been since around the 15th.
Still a bad mommy.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Lick-it Glue
I'm waiting for Fay to wake up and decided to post. I mean, why not? It's not like the only thing I have to talk about is the glue on envelopes that you lick to make it seal.
Why does some of it taste so good? Why does some taste so bad? Do envelope companies have levels of nastiness listed on their products? "This envelope has a nasty rating of 5, a perfect level when you really want to stick it to your customers as they pay you out the nose."
And why do some envelopes require a lot of spit, and some hardly any at all? Why does some glue slip and slide back and forth, while others are instantly perma-sealed?
Just wondering.
Why does some of it taste so good? Why does some taste so bad? Do envelope companies have levels of nastiness listed on their products? "This envelope has a nasty rating of 5, a perfect level when you really want to stick it to your customers as they pay you out the nose."
And why do some envelopes require a lot of spit, and some hardly any at all? Why does some glue slip and slide back and forth, while others are instantly perma-sealed?
Just wondering.
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Psychology
I really wish I could have majored in psychology. I think I need it. Then I can understand my own psychoses (and everyone else's, too).
That said, I bought Plaque Blast for Kellin (yes, as seen on TV) because he's too old to be put under for the vet to clean his teeth and they are nasty. After I bought the stuff I saw all this ranting and raving on the Internet that it's poisonous. Worried, I went to plaqueblast.com and the site had disappeared. Needless to say, I kind of flipped out.
Well, the Plaque Blast finally showed the other day, and I was determined to send it back. That is, of course, until Steve was late getting home, I got bored, and Kellin decided he needed to be right in my face for extended periods of time. You know that smell at the fish counter in a land-locked, small-town grocery store? That's what his breath smells like. And since I've never liked seafood, it's doubly unpleasant. Anyway, I sprayed the crap in his mouth because I figure people freak out about fluoride all the time and I happen to think it's a good thing. Surprisingly, it cut the bad smell by probably 70%, and it didn't just cover it with a fresh minty scent.
If Jake can survive the popsicle stick, Kellin can survive poison Plaque Blast.
Right?
That said, I bought Plaque Blast for Kellin (yes, as seen on TV) because he's too old to be put under for the vet to clean his teeth and they are nasty. After I bought the stuff I saw all this ranting and raving on the Internet that it's poisonous. Worried, I went to plaqueblast.com and the site had disappeared. Needless to say, I kind of flipped out.
Well, the Plaque Blast finally showed the other day, and I was determined to send it back. That is, of course, until Steve was late getting home, I got bored, and Kellin decided he needed to be right in my face for extended periods of time. You know that smell at the fish counter in a land-locked, small-town grocery store? That's what his breath smells like. And since I've never liked seafood, it's doubly unpleasant. Anyway, I sprayed the crap in his mouth because I figure people freak out about fluoride all the time and I happen to think it's a good thing. Surprisingly, it cut the bad smell by probably 70%, and it didn't just cover it with a fresh minty scent.
If Jake can survive the popsicle stick, Kellin can survive poison Plaque Blast.
Right?
Friday, March 9, 2012
Piano Lessons
When I was a kid, everyone always threw such a fit when they had to go to piano lessons. They were so adamant about how horrible they are that I never took any.
This is an e-mail I got today from one of the parents that I teach piano to their kids:
"I am so sorry for the short notice but the kids have to get shots this morning and I totally forgot :( so we won't be able to come for piano. They are walking around the house crying and they haven't had the shots yet! I'm glad I didn't tell them a week ago, it would have been a long week! Sorry!!"
This is a very typical reaction when someone doesn't come to piano. I just don't get it. I mean, yeah, they earn "stars" and get prizes and all, but it's still piano. What gives? Sometimes I worry people think I'm a child predator.
This is an e-mail I got today from one of the parents that I teach piano to their kids:
"I am so sorry for the short notice but the kids have to get shots this morning and I totally forgot :( so we won't be able to come for piano. They are walking around the house crying and they haven't had the shots yet! I'm glad I didn't tell them a week ago, it would have been a long week! Sorry!!"
This is a very typical reaction when someone doesn't come to piano. I just don't get it. I mean, yeah, they earn "stars" and get prizes and all, but it's still piano. What gives? Sometimes I worry people think I'm a child predator.
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Pancake Batter
At school today (I teach a music class as the elementary) I told the kids it felt like my head was filled with pancake batter. That's no better at 2:12 in the morning when I can't sleep and the baby will be up in four hours.
And I have nothing to blog about.
But I'm on blogspot, anyway.
I'm a genius.
And I have nothing to blog about.
But I'm on blogspot, anyway.
I'm a genius.
Saturday, March 3, 2012
Mangos
So, I realize I haven't posted in a long time. Therefore, a completely random subject.
Mangos.
I've started doing Bountiful Baskets (to learn more, go to bountifulbaskets.org) and both weeks that I've done it I've gotten mangos. I was excited because I've never really tried mangos before. Here are my observations:
1. Apparently you're not supposed to eat the skin, because it's really thick and leathery.
2. Although there's no pit (like in a peach), there is a definite core in a mango, and it's as hard as a pit.
3. Mangos have a surprisingly creamy taste, while still being vibrant and, for lack of a better word, they taste the way the color green looks.
4. Sometimes, as I'm eating them, I get the overwhelming scent of freshly mown hay.
Now that we've covered the basics, I have to wonder why some mangos are to-die-for good while others make me want to gag. Could it possibly be that the gag ones are not ripe?
So I searched to find out how to tell if a mango is ripe. On the site I ended up on, I noticed immediately that "the skin of a mango is considered inedible." Should I get a bonus point for knowing that, or lose a point for actually trying to eat something inedible?
Continuing on, I read: "Because mangos come in a rainbow of reds, yellows, oranges, and greens, color is not the best way to determine ripeness. Sniff for a fragrant fruity odor at the stem end, or squeeze very gently to detect a firm yet yielding feel under your fingers."
Huh?
My mango is mushy. Is that good or bad? How am I supposed to know if my mango is meant to be green? Or yellow? Or purple with pink polka dots?
I've come to the conclusion that I'm not smart enough for mangos. Therefore, I will stagger blindly into the kitchen and eat my (possibly) ripe Bountiful Baskets mango.
Pray for me.
Mangos.
I've started doing Bountiful Baskets (to learn more, go to bountifulbaskets.org) and both weeks that I've done it I've gotten mangos. I was excited because I've never really tried mangos before. Here are my observations:
1. Apparently you're not supposed to eat the skin, because it's really thick and leathery.
2. Although there's no pit (like in a peach), there is a definite core in a mango, and it's as hard as a pit.
3. Mangos have a surprisingly creamy taste, while still being vibrant and, for lack of a better word, they taste the way the color green looks.
4. Sometimes, as I'm eating them, I get the overwhelming scent of freshly mown hay.
Now that we've covered the basics, I have to wonder why some mangos are to-die-for good while others make me want to gag. Could it possibly be that the gag ones are not ripe?
So I searched to find out how to tell if a mango is ripe. On the site I ended up on, I noticed immediately that "the skin of a mango is considered inedible." Should I get a bonus point for knowing that, or lose a point for actually trying to eat something inedible?
Continuing on, I read: "Because mangos come in a rainbow of reds, yellows, oranges, and greens, color is not the best way to determine ripeness. Sniff for a fragrant fruity odor at the stem end, or squeeze very gently to detect a firm yet yielding feel under your fingers."
Huh?
My mango is mushy. Is that good or bad? How am I supposed to know if my mango is meant to be green? Or yellow? Or purple with pink polka dots?
I've come to the conclusion that I'm not smart enough for mangos. Therefore, I will stagger blindly into the kitchen and eat my (possibly) ripe Bountiful Baskets mango.
Pray for me.
Sunday, February 26, 2012
:(
My grandma had a massive stroke sometime this past week. We don't know when for sure, or even what's going to happen next.
Harsh reminder that life can change in an instant.
Harsh reminder that life can change in an instant.
Friday, February 24, 2012
Paternalistic Dish Network
In my history class, I hear the word "paternalistic" a lot. Normally, I would have thought this word to have a positive connotation (after all, who doesn't want a dad to take care of them?) but my professor has always used it in a very negative way.
Now I truly understand the meaning of "paternalistic."
Recently, we got rid of Dish Network. Of course it was a huge hassle, but that's another story. When they had us ship back our DVR, remote, etc., they provided a "pre-paid" label (that they would then charge us $15 for using). The letter they sent with it was weird, almost snobbish. They made a big deal out of saying what a great deal we'd get for using their label (even though we still have to pay for shipping). Obviously., they were doing us a huge favor.
My parents always taught me that if something sounds too good to be true, it probably is.
I sent Steve to UPS to mail the box, and he had them weigh it to see how much it would cost to ship. It was $14.64. Granted, 36 cents isn't much, but it still made me feel good to throw in their faces that I could get such a good "deal" when they acted like it would cost $40 to send their stuff back (which, by the way, we had to pay a monthly rental on--yet another rant).
Anyway, the point of all of this is that I really felt like Dish was saying, "Now, since you're so stupid and can't do anything for yourself, let big old Daddy Dish take care of this for you. Now, say thank you."
Oh, yeah?
Well, I'm enjoying my 36 cents, Daddy!
:P
Now I truly understand the meaning of "paternalistic."
Recently, we got rid of Dish Network. Of course it was a huge hassle, but that's another story. When they had us ship back our DVR, remote, etc., they provided a "pre-paid" label (that they would then charge us $15 for using). The letter they sent with it was weird, almost snobbish. They made a big deal out of saying what a great deal we'd get for using their label (even though we still have to pay for shipping). Obviously., they were doing us a huge favor.
My parents always taught me that if something sounds too good to be true, it probably is.
I sent Steve to UPS to mail the box, and he had them weigh it to see how much it would cost to ship. It was $14.64. Granted, 36 cents isn't much, but it still made me feel good to throw in their faces that I could get such a good "deal" when they acted like it would cost $40 to send their stuff back (which, by the way, we had to pay a monthly rental on--yet another rant).
Anyway, the point of all of this is that I really felt like Dish was saying, "Now, since you're so stupid and can't do anything for yourself, let big old Daddy Dish take care of this for you. Now, say thank you."
Oh, yeah?
Well, I'm enjoying my 36 cents, Daddy!
:P
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Adventures at Church
Oh, my gosh! I can't believe I forgot to post this one! It's a classic.
So, my husband and I teach a church class of 7-year-olds. There's one boy in the class, in particular, that's always out of control. This past week, the lesson was about how Heavenly Father watches over us. At the end, the kids were supposed to draw a picture of themselves on these lame necklaces I made that said, "Heavenly Father Watches Over Me" on them. Well, Mr. Genius, as he shall now be known, drew a picture of himself with a mustache and pony tail. Okay, fine, whatever. It's when he chose to draw a rather detailed picture of his "area" that the crap hit the fan. On top of that, every single kid in the class knew what it was. I didn't know what an "area" looked like until I'd been married for a year!
I told Mr. Genius that that wasn't okay and that he needed to draw some arms or something over it, since it was below his bemustached head. His answer was to get a yellow crayon and to write, very lightly, over the top, "Sorry."
Shockingly, he somehow managed to drop his picture in the trash can. In hind sight, I should have taken it out to his mom and made her wear it around her neck for the world to see.
This is why I'm not going to heaven.
So, my husband and I teach a church class of 7-year-olds. There's one boy in the class, in particular, that's always out of control. This past week, the lesson was about how Heavenly Father watches over us. At the end, the kids were supposed to draw a picture of themselves on these lame necklaces I made that said, "Heavenly Father Watches Over Me" on them. Well, Mr. Genius, as he shall now be known, drew a picture of himself with a mustache and pony tail. Okay, fine, whatever. It's when he chose to draw a rather detailed picture of his "area" that the crap hit the fan. On top of that, every single kid in the class knew what it was. I didn't know what an "area" looked like until I'd been married for a year!
I told Mr. Genius that that wasn't okay and that he needed to draw some arms or something over it, since it was below his bemustached head. His answer was to get a yellow crayon and to write, very lightly, over the top, "Sorry."
Shockingly, he somehow managed to drop his picture in the trash can. In hind sight, I should have taken it out to his mom and made her wear it around her neck for the world to see.
This is why I'm not going to heaven.
"Children's" Books
Okay, I was told I needed to post, and I have no idea what to post about, so I'm going to rant about so-called "children's" books.
As anyone who knows me can tell you, I'm a loser that goes over to the children's section as soon as I walk in the library (note, I'm a loser, not a predator). To cement my loser status, I have officially read every single hardbound chapter book in the children's section at my public library.
As I've spent the past years doing this, I've stumbled across some stuff that has seriously disturbed me. For example, the book with several pornographic drawings in it. (Not as bad as the Men are From Mars incident, but dang close).
I also distinctly remember reading a book one time about a girl kissing a boy and her friend asked her some questions that made no sense to me at the time, but make a scary amount of sense now.
And periods. Seriously? Why in the world does everyone write about their period? It's disgusting! I still get embarrassed if a pad commercial comes on and my dad is in the same room, yet a good 30% of the books I've read talk about it. Do I really want to explain to my 3rd grader what a period is? No.
(On a side note, I had that wonderful talk with my mom in a crowded Disney Land bathroom when I kept demanding a "treat" from the machine. She finally explained, in an effort to get me to shut up, and I was horrified. I still am).
So why do authors, adult authors, I might add, throw in stuff that's completely inappropriate for children to read? I just don't get it. I can't even begin to count the number of books I've read that have mentioned puberty, specifically a girl "developing" in the upper region.
Freaking sick, nasty people. Let's just all go back to Sesame Street. Oscar the Grouch doesn't have boobs.
As anyone who knows me can tell you, I'm a loser that goes over to the children's section as soon as I walk in the library (note, I'm a loser, not a predator). To cement my loser status, I have officially read every single hardbound chapter book in the children's section at my public library.
As I've spent the past years doing this, I've stumbled across some stuff that has seriously disturbed me. For example, the book with several pornographic drawings in it. (Not as bad as the Men are From Mars incident, but dang close).
I also distinctly remember reading a book one time about a girl kissing a boy and her friend asked her some questions that made no sense to me at the time, but make a scary amount of sense now.
And periods. Seriously? Why in the world does everyone write about their period? It's disgusting! I still get embarrassed if a pad commercial comes on and my dad is in the same room, yet a good 30% of the books I've read talk about it. Do I really want to explain to my 3rd grader what a period is? No.
(On a side note, I had that wonderful talk with my mom in a crowded Disney Land bathroom when I kept demanding a "treat" from the machine. She finally explained, in an effort to get me to shut up, and I was horrified. I still am).
So why do authors, adult authors, I might add, throw in stuff that's completely inappropriate for children to read? I just don't get it. I can't even begin to count the number of books I've read that have mentioned puberty, specifically a girl "developing" in the upper region.
Freaking sick, nasty people. Let's just all go back to Sesame Street. Oscar the Grouch doesn't have boobs.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Life's Important Questions
You know, life has a lot of really important questions that never seem to get answered. You know what I'm talking about. Questions like:
Which came first, the chicken or the egg?
Or:
Can sour cream actually expire? Isn't that the meaning of "sour"?
But today I was hit with a question that trumps all of these. Not only does it have practical applications, but it could change mankind for eons to come!
Are you ready?
Can you handle it?
Can you answer it?
*drumroll*
*suspenseful silence*
If you dip your broom in dog water, then sweep, does it count as mopping, too?
*cymbals clang*
Thank you. I know. I'm a genius. Or a philosopher. Or whatever is more impressive.
Which came first, the chicken or the egg?
Or:
Can sour cream actually expire? Isn't that the meaning of "sour"?
But today I was hit with a question that trumps all of these. Not only does it have practical applications, but it could change mankind for eons to come!
Are you ready?
Can you handle it?
Can you answer it?
*drumroll*
*suspenseful silence*
If you dip your broom in dog water, then sweep, does it count as mopping, too?
*cymbals clang*
Thank you. I know. I'm a genius. Or a philosopher. Or whatever is more impressive.
Monday, February 13, 2012
Reasons to Love my Husband
Okay, so I was told that I should never, ever say anything bad about Steve. Ever. And since I really, really want to, but I can't, I'm going to list his good qualities Maybe that will help.
1)He brought in firewood
2)He chopped kindling for me
3)He loves me
4)He makes me laugh every day
5)He lets me have...wait...let me count...14 pets
6)He goes to work every day so I don't have to
7)He fixed my washing machine
8)He gave me Fay
9)Um...
10)He bought me a castle calendar
11)He ordered me See's candy for Valentine's Day
12)He married me, even knowing I'm broken
13)He's very good to help with the baby
14)He goes to church with me
15)He reads the scriptures with me
16)He honors his priesthood
17)He takes my criticism well
18)He lets me go to the store in my pajamas
19)He doesn't care if I don't shower every day
20)He gets rid of bugs
21)He said the gravy I made was good when it was just so-so
22)He gets the mail every day
23)He wants me to be happy
Now the baby's fussy, so I have to stop. Let's see if this helps any.
1)He brought in firewood
2)He chopped kindling for me
3)He loves me
4)He makes me laugh every day
5)He lets me have...wait...let me count...14 pets
6)He goes to work every day so I don't have to
7)He fixed my washing machine
8)He gave me Fay
9)Um...
10)He bought me a castle calendar
11)He ordered me See's candy for Valentine's Day
12)He married me, even knowing I'm broken
13)He's very good to help with the baby
14)He goes to church with me
15)He reads the scriptures with me
16)He honors his priesthood
17)He takes my criticism well
18)He lets me go to the store in my pajamas
19)He doesn't care if I don't shower every day
20)He gets rid of bugs
21)He said the gravy I made was good when it was just so-so
22)He gets the mail every day
23)He wants me to be happy
Now the baby's fussy, so I have to stop. Let's see if this helps any.
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Babydom
You know, I always thought it was hilarious when I'd babysit and the kids would play with their toy phones, mimicking their moms. I always thought, "Geez, how much time does she spend on the phone? I mean, come on!"
Fay is 8 months old and she's already started.
On the bright side, she also turned pages in a book for the first time today. Since I'm such a massive reader (I spend massive amounts of time reading, I'm not physically massive*) I have to say it tickled me pink that she can do it. Sadly, I have yet to make any progress in getting her to say, "Daddy, I want a cow."
*see "Hot Pants at the Thrift Store"
Fay is 8 months old and she's already started.
On the bright side, she also turned pages in a book for the first time today. Since I'm such a massive reader (I spend massive amounts of time reading, I'm not physically massive*) I have to say it tickled me pink that she can do it. Sadly, I have yet to make any progress in getting her to say, "Daddy, I want a cow."
*see "Hot Pants at the Thrift Store"
Monday, February 6, 2012
Fatal Popsicle Stick?
So, last Sunday Grandma was feeding the baby a popsicle (her teeth were hurting, okay?) and the baby got tired of it, so I told her that Jake likes popsicles. She had it wrapped in a paper towel so it wouldn't make her all sticky, and she was having a hard time holding on. She asked if he'd eat the popsicle stick. I said no.
Big mistake.
Did you know it's possible for a yellow lab to swallow a popsicle stick whole without coughing or gagging once? Well, it is.
I called the emergency vet (yes, it's shameful to say your mentally deficient dog swallowed the popsicle stick) and he said we could induce vomiting, at which point he had a 50/50 chance of choking to death, or we could hope it would pass on it's own (50/50 chance of having to do surgery to remove the dang thing).
We've left well enough alone, and he's acting fine. It's been 8 days.
How long does it take a popsicle stick to kill someone?
Big mistake.
Did you know it's possible for a yellow lab to swallow a popsicle stick whole without coughing or gagging once? Well, it is.
I called the emergency vet (yes, it's shameful to say your mentally deficient dog swallowed the popsicle stick) and he said we could induce vomiting, at which point he had a 50/50 chance of choking to death, or we could hope it would pass on it's own (50/50 chance of having to do surgery to remove the dang thing).
We've left well enough alone, and he's acting fine. It's been 8 days.
How long does it take a popsicle stick to kill someone?
Saturday, February 4, 2012
Hot Pants at the Thrift Store
So, I went to the thrift store the other day, wearing what Steve calls my "hot pants" (they're hot because they're actually the right size, rather than a triple-X), and it resulted in all sorts of interesting encounters. For example, the man who kept asking how much my baby cost (no one ever, EVER talks to anyone else in the thrift store, unless you came out of the same womb). I got all of my stuff (Steve would call it junk) and started carrying it out to good, old, trusty Charlie.
Just to give you some background, Charlie is as old as I am. And he looks it. Maybe worse. He also has a hole the size of a dinner plate in the passenger side floorboard. Just sayin'.
So I take the stuff (junk) out to Charlie, and I discover that his poor tailgate no longer latches in place. I guess he needs suspenders. After trying to slam it several times, while holding the baby, I gave up and started cramming the stuff (junk) in the front seat, next to the car seat. I go back, get more stuff (junk), and repeat one more time. The last time, I hear someone call, "Ma'am." Being completely antisocial, I pretended not to hear. So dude got louder and started running, yes, running down the street toward me.
At this point, I just want to leave, but I'm too dang polite (a.k.a. doormat) to ignore him, so I smile. He asked if I wanted him to close the tailgate. At this point, it's completely pointless as everything is already loaded in the front, but I find myself saying, "Yeah, that would be nice!" like he just offered me a kidney. He goes in the back and starts slamming the tailgate, to no effect. He gets puzzled, stops, then starts again. The whole time I'm standing in back of the thrift store, holding a baby, in December. Fantastic, right? It gets better.
He starts looking at Charlie's inner workings (pervert) and discovers the issue (you know, other than the fact that he's wasting his time like this). Out of the blue, he asks me, "So, you do you have anyone in your life that knows how to close this?"
Let's review for a minute. Mr. Helper is my dad's age and lives in a single wide trailer that is about to fall down--literally. However, to give him his due:
1)I'm holding a baby
2)I'm wearing my "hot pants" (so I can have a baby and still be "hot")
3)I'm driving Charlie and shopping at a thrift store, so I must not have very high standards/expectations
Unfortunately for Mr. Helper, though, I responded, still smiling, with, "Yeah. My husband. Who's at work." I realized what was going on at this point, and refrained myself from adding that he's a cop. Barely.
Mr. Helper disappeared mighty quickly after that.
I'm going to dress like a slob from now on.
And park in the front.
And not take Charlie.
Just to give you some background, Charlie is as old as I am. And he looks it. Maybe worse. He also has a hole the size of a dinner plate in the passenger side floorboard. Just sayin'.
So I take the stuff (junk) out to Charlie, and I discover that his poor tailgate no longer latches in place. I guess he needs suspenders. After trying to slam it several times, while holding the baby, I gave up and started cramming the stuff (junk) in the front seat, next to the car seat. I go back, get more stuff (junk), and repeat one more time. The last time, I hear someone call, "Ma'am." Being completely antisocial, I pretended not to hear. So dude got louder and started running, yes, running down the street toward me.
At this point, I just want to leave, but I'm too dang polite (a.k.a. doormat) to ignore him, so I smile. He asked if I wanted him to close the tailgate. At this point, it's completely pointless as everything is already loaded in the front, but I find myself saying, "Yeah, that would be nice!" like he just offered me a kidney. He goes in the back and starts slamming the tailgate, to no effect. He gets puzzled, stops, then starts again. The whole time I'm standing in back of the thrift store, holding a baby, in December. Fantastic, right? It gets better.
He starts looking at Charlie's inner workings (pervert) and discovers the issue (you know, other than the fact that he's wasting his time like this). Out of the blue, he asks me, "So, you do you have anyone in your life that knows how to close this?"
Let's review for a minute. Mr. Helper is my dad's age and lives in a single wide trailer that is about to fall down--literally. However, to give him his due:
1)I'm holding a baby
2)I'm wearing my "hot pants" (so I can have a baby and still be "hot")
3)I'm driving Charlie and shopping at a thrift store, so I must not have very high standards/expectations
Unfortunately for Mr. Helper, though, I responded, still smiling, with, "Yeah. My husband. Who's at work." I realized what was going on at this point, and refrained myself from adding that he's a cop. Barely.
Mr. Helper disappeared mighty quickly after that.
I'm going to dress like a slob from now on.
And park in the front.
And not take Charlie.
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