Great Halloween entertainment!
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Spooky Shakespeare
Remember the witch's chant from Macbeth? Double, double, toil and trouble? It sounds like both second graders and strangers on the street can't help to read this chant without getting into it!
Great Halloween entertainment!
Great Halloween entertainment!
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
A Day
12:20am Grace wakes up whining. She's too congested to breath, but is just confused and uncomfortable so she continues to moan and groan. I was actually still awake trying to finish my book. Brandon Mull is a great author.
12:47am Ditto. This time I was not originally awake.
1:32am Ditto.
3:09am Ditto. (You get the idea.)
5:30am-ish (or sometime when it's still dark) Janson leaves for work. I remember that last night he said, "Oh man. I have to wake up early to lay some legs out to defrost." Huh?
7:10am Mari falls out of bed. I put her in mine, and think "I should probably get up." I realize that Grace is probably too sick to go to school, but we're in charge of bringing snacks. If I bring the snacks and not let her stay for school, lengthy tantrum will be inevitable. Instead of facing my decision, I fall back to sleep in our heavenly new pillow-topped $90 bed.
8:10am Jump out of bed. I have 20 minutes to get myself and the girls in the car. Just the thought makes me sweat. I'm still not sure if Grace will stay for school, but either way we're bringing snacks.
8:13am I grab clothes in the dark, hoping they match. Wake up Grace, beg her to hurry.
8:17am Debate between sacrificing the time to put on my contacts, or do Grace's hair. My eyesight wins out. I'm so selfish.
8:23am Grace is dressed. Hallelujah, for once she was fast. Get Mari out of bed.
8:25am Prepare preschool snacks. Girls climb into car, Mari still in her footie PJ's.
8:30am Realize there is rainy wind storm outside. Collect windbreakers and umbrella.
8:32am Pull out of garage. Remember that I forgot to brush my teeth.
8:50am Get double stroller out of car, get hit in head by trunk door that won't stay open in cold weather. Plop girls in stroller, they whine about windy rain.
8:52am Whip out umbrella, try to put it over girls, but wind is winning the battle.
8:53am Mari's eye is almost poked by delinquent umbrella, attempt to close it. Stranger on sidewalk helps.
8:55am Force Grace in bathroom stall before entering school room. Remember that community center gym locker room is closed for maintenance, so women sparsely clothed are wandering restroom. Shield the sights from Grace while enforcing her lengthy hand washing session
9:00am Liberally lather Grace's hands in hand sanitizer. Hug Grace, hand over snacks. Leave.
9:09am Outside Target, battle wind while carrying Mari, who can't walk in rain puddles with footie PJ's. Notice her PJ's are feeling damp around diaper. Remember that I have no diapers.
9:11am Enter Target, with prepared list in hand. (Sometimes I actually do prepare.)
9:24am Try to ignore Mari's discomfort due to full diaper. Give her toys/books for distractions.
9:37am Joyfully shopping. (No sarcasm this time.)
9:42am Shield Mari's eyes (and ears) from scary Halloween decor, which are conveniently placed next to the harmless, conservative wreaths I'm looking at.
9:54am Leaving Target, battle rain/wind with full-cart, crying, wet child and head-banging trunk door. What do I do for an hour before picking up Grace?
10:00am Burgerville drive-thru. Grab breakfast so I can take morning meds.
10:06am Enter community rec center. Sit at table, put food and toys in front of Mari.
10:12am Nicely dressed and blow-dried lady next to me looks at Mari in disgust. I look at Mari, as though for the first time today. She has extreme bedhead, is soaked to her heels and now has a very potently poopy diaper. Oh, and she refused her food, continuing to sneak sips from my Diet Coke. The sight of an infant drinking soda is so endearing.
10:33am If you are in need of a serious guilt trip, eat fast food in the front waiting area of a rec center or gym.
10:46am Third person in a row has sat down nearby and then soon moved to a seat farther away. Mari's smelly diaper is not helping my social life.
10:55am Mari pushes the double stroller down hall, hitting one trash can, two toddlers, one wheel chair, and nearly enters the men's restroom. (Why do so many public restrooms these days have no proper doors?)
11:00am Pick up Grace, leftover snacks, and rush home.
You get the idea. Things got better from there, as they often do when we're at home base. Random highlights of the rest of the day:
- Girls helped me clean bathroom. I found Grace "cleaning" Mari's bed with a vinegar/water spray bottle.
- Picnic in the living room. I watched Mari "comb" the carpet with her fork between each bite.
- Mari has had frequent bouts of suddenly saying "Peepee!" or "Poopoo!" and running to the toilet. She stares at the toilet, tugs at her diaper, and flushes the toilet. After this happened for the 3rd time today, I thought, "How old is she again? 19 months? 20? 21? Definitely not 23." I forego the calculations and just dig out the little potty from storage. I strip Mari down, and she happily sits on it for 30 minutes while watching Elmo's Potty Time. If she wants to potty train herself, sounds good to me. Otherwise, I'm making no real effort until she's 2 1/2 years old (and I KNOW she's not that old yet).
Moral of the story: There are many times today that I've been tempted to say, "I'm such a bad mom." But as an acquaintance taught me, it's only okay to say that as long as you complete it:
"I'm such a bad mom. But really, I'm NOT a bad mom. I'm NOT."
And it's true, I'm not. So there, blow-dried lady at the rec center. So there.
I'm such a good mother that I bought a new humidifier at Target, which will allow Grace to sleep through the entire night, which will allow ME to get more sleep, which will allow me to wake up earlier so I will be more prepared for the day. Right? Learn from my mistakes, right? At least I should be able to brush my teeth and put clothes on my youngest child. Right? Please tell me yes, because I'm having my doubts.
No matter what, Nana flies in tomorrow, and we are SOOOOOOO excited!
12:47am Ditto. This time I was not originally awake.
1:32am Ditto.
3:09am Ditto. (You get the idea.)
5:30am-ish (or sometime when it's still dark) Janson leaves for work. I remember that last night he said, "Oh man. I have to wake up early to lay some legs out to defrost." Huh?
7:10am Mari falls out of bed. I put her in mine, and think "I should probably get up." I realize that Grace is probably too sick to go to school, but we're in charge of bringing snacks. If I bring the snacks and not let her stay for school, lengthy tantrum will be inevitable. Instead of facing my decision, I fall back to sleep in our heavenly new pillow-topped $90 bed.
8:10am Jump out of bed. I have 20 minutes to get myself and the girls in the car. Just the thought makes me sweat. I'm still not sure if Grace will stay for school, but either way we're bringing snacks.
8:13am I grab clothes in the dark, hoping they match. Wake up Grace, beg her to hurry.
8:17am Debate between sacrificing the time to put on my contacts, or do Grace's hair. My eyesight wins out. I'm so selfish.
8:23am Grace is dressed. Hallelujah, for once she was fast. Get Mari out of bed.
8:25am Prepare preschool snacks. Girls climb into car, Mari still in her footie PJ's.
8:30am Realize there is rainy wind storm outside. Collect windbreakers and umbrella.
8:32am Pull out of garage. Remember that I forgot to brush my teeth.
8:50am Get double stroller out of car, get hit in head by trunk door that won't stay open in cold weather. Plop girls in stroller, they whine about windy rain.
8:52am Whip out umbrella, try to put it over girls, but wind is winning the battle.
8:53am Mari's eye is almost poked by delinquent umbrella, attempt to close it. Stranger on sidewalk helps.
8:55am Force Grace in bathroom stall before entering school room. Remember that community center gym locker room is closed for maintenance, so women sparsely clothed are wandering restroom. Shield the sights from Grace while enforcing her lengthy hand washing session
9:00am Liberally lather Grace's hands in hand sanitizer. Hug Grace, hand over snacks. Leave.
9:09am Outside Target, battle wind while carrying Mari, who can't walk in rain puddles with footie PJ's. Notice her PJ's are feeling damp around diaper. Remember that I have no diapers.
9:11am Enter Target, with prepared list in hand. (Sometimes I actually do prepare.)
9:24am Try to ignore Mari's discomfort due to full diaper. Give her toys/books for distractions.
9:37am Joyfully shopping. (No sarcasm this time.)
9:42am Shield Mari's eyes (and ears) from scary Halloween decor, which are conveniently placed next to the harmless, conservative wreaths I'm looking at.
9:54am Leaving Target, battle rain/wind with full-cart, crying, wet child and head-banging trunk door. What do I do for an hour before picking up Grace?
10:00am Burgerville drive-thru. Grab breakfast so I can take morning meds.
10:06am Enter community rec center. Sit at table, put food and toys in front of Mari.
10:12am Nicely dressed and blow-dried lady next to me looks at Mari in disgust. I look at Mari, as though for the first time today. She has extreme bedhead, is soaked to her heels and now has a very potently poopy diaper. Oh, and she refused her food, continuing to sneak sips from my Diet Coke. The sight of an infant drinking soda is so endearing.
10:33am If you are in need of a serious guilt trip, eat fast food in the front waiting area of a rec center or gym.
10:46am Third person in a row has sat down nearby and then soon moved to a seat farther away. Mari's smelly diaper is not helping my social life.
10:55am Mari pushes the double stroller down hall, hitting one trash can, two toddlers, one wheel chair, and nearly enters the men's restroom. (Why do so many public restrooms these days have no proper doors?)
11:00am Pick up Grace, leftover snacks, and rush home.
You get the idea. Things got better from there, as they often do when we're at home base. Random highlights of the rest of the day:
- Girls helped me clean bathroom. I found Grace "cleaning" Mari's bed with a vinegar/water spray bottle.
- Picnic in the living room. I watched Mari "comb" the carpet with her fork between each bite.
- Mari has had frequent bouts of suddenly saying "Peepee!" or "Poopoo!" and running to the toilet. She stares at the toilet, tugs at her diaper, and flushes the toilet. After this happened for the 3rd time today, I thought, "How old is she again? 19 months? 20? 21? Definitely not 23." I forego the calculations and just dig out the little potty from storage. I strip Mari down, and she happily sits on it for 30 minutes while watching Elmo's Potty Time. If she wants to potty train herself, sounds good to me. Otherwise, I'm making no real effort until she's 2 1/2 years old (and I KNOW she's not that old yet).
Moral of the story: There are many times today that I've been tempted to say, "I'm such a bad mom." But as an acquaintance taught me, it's only okay to say that as long as you complete it:
"I'm such a bad mom. But really, I'm NOT a bad mom. I'm NOT."
And it's true, I'm not. So there, blow-dried lady at the rec center. So there.
I'm such a good mother that I bought a new humidifier at Target, which will allow Grace to sleep through the entire night, which will allow ME to get more sleep, which will allow me to wake up earlier so I will be more prepared for the day. Right? Learn from my mistakes, right? At least I should be able to brush my teeth and put clothes on my youngest child. Right? Please tell me yes, because I'm having my doubts.
No matter what, Nana flies in tomorrow, and we are SOOOOOOO excited!
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Whitney Houston
My friend Julianne blogged about this Whitney Houston song. I'm glad she had a link, because it's a great song. The lyrics are a little repetitive, but the meaning and idea behind it are great. We can all relate to it. Click here to watch. Enjoy!
Monday, September 14, 2009
Dear Primary
Dear Primary Kids and Teachers at Church,
Yes, I hear that my kid jumped up in Sharing Time and shouted,
"My mommy hits my daddy all the time!"
No, it is NOT TRUE.
I'm pretty sure Grace has seen her mommy give her daddy enough icky kisses to understand: Mommy LOVES Daddy. :)
I know you don't know me very well, but please believe me, I'm a good, funny gal who's just going to laugh it off. :)
With Slight Embarassment,
The New Woman in Church You Don't Know Yet
p.s. Oh how I wish someone, anyone from my ward actually read this blog. :) I think it's time for more Mommy-Daddy dancing sessions in the kitchen. You up for it, my love?
Yes, I hear that my kid jumped up in Sharing Time and shouted,
"My mommy hits my daddy all the time!"
No, it is NOT TRUE.
I'm pretty sure Grace has seen her mommy give her daddy enough icky kisses to understand: Mommy LOVES Daddy. :)
I know you don't know me very well, but please believe me, I'm a good, funny gal who's just going to laugh it off. :)
With Slight Embarassment,
The New Woman in Church You Don't Know Yet
p.s. Oh how I wish someone, anyone from my ward actually read this blog. :) I think it's time for more Mommy-Daddy dancing sessions in the kitchen. You up for it, my love?
Friday, August 28, 2009
Where are the mothers?
I just finished reading an LDS historical fiction novel. I don't read LDS fiction very often, but since my Portland library had it I figured, what the hey?
Well, within the first few chapters I was irritated. There were no mother figures. Both main character families had mothers who conveniently died within a few years of the novel's story. Now, I know this is a frequent phenomenon in the media, but this was LDS fiction. You know, the whole focus-on-the-family, every-kid-needs-two-parents thing?
We all know about the trend at Disney. Poor Cinderella, Belle, Ariel, Jasmine, Nemo, Pinocchio, Snow White, and Lilo. Why is the temptation so strong to strike out poor mama? Or maybe, as in Toy Story, they keep her in the picture, but only has a headless, moving housewife machine body. (Does she not have a brain? A personality?)
My English major mind had to come up with my own thesis, and here are my two possible options:
1. People are afraid to try and accurately portray and do justice to the mother figure. Yes, sometimes we are superwomen and the portrayal of us could seem too good to be true. :) But this is fiction. If people can swallow a pumpkin-tuned-carriage, I think they can stomach a loving, endearing mother figure. I understand the concept though. I would feel overwhelmed to accurately portray in writing the goodness of my own mother.
2. The plots would be impossible. The mischievous, crazy adventures that make up the plots would often just not be plausible with a watchful mother on the scene. You know, the all-knowing, eyes-in-the-back-of-her-head, enforcer-of-rules mother. She would squash all those crazy plot ideas. Ariel's mother would have kept a close eye on Ariel and enforced the "do not go to the surface rule." Same for Belle and her escapade to the beast, and Jasmine and her excursion to the "forbidden" city. Ugh, I guess I am admitting that there is no fun when mother is around.
To refute that statement, I think I'll take my girls to the park. But those eyes-in-the-back-of-my-head will keep my children from being kidnapped by a gnome in the woods, thus making them the victims of a fantastic plot.
I think I have just stumbled upon a great masters thesis if I ever choose to go back to school. Hhmm.
Well, within the first few chapters I was irritated. There were no mother figures. Both main character families had mothers who conveniently died within a few years of the novel's story. Now, I know this is a frequent phenomenon in the media, but this was LDS fiction. You know, the whole focus-on-the-family, every-kid-needs-two-parents thing?
We all know about the trend at Disney. Poor Cinderella, Belle, Ariel, Jasmine, Nemo, Pinocchio, Snow White, and Lilo. Why is the temptation so strong to strike out poor mama? Or maybe, as in Toy Story, they keep her in the picture, but only has a headless, moving housewife machine body. (Does she not have a brain? A personality?)
My English major mind had to come up with my own thesis, and here are my two possible options:
1. People are afraid to try and accurately portray and do justice to the mother figure. Yes, sometimes we are superwomen and the portrayal of us could seem too good to be true. :) But this is fiction. If people can swallow a pumpkin-tuned-carriage, I think they can stomach a loving, endearing mother figure. I understand the concept though. I would feel overwhelmed to accurately portray in writing the goodness of my own mother.
2. The plots would be impossible. The mischievous, crazy adventures that make up the plots would often just not be plausible with a watchful mother on the scene. You know, the all-knowing, eyes-in-the-back-of-her-head, enforcer-of-rules mother. She would squash all those crazy plot ideas. Ariel's mother would have kept a close eye on Ariel and enforced the "do not go to the surface rule." Same for Belle and her escapade to the beast, and Jasmine and her excursion to the "forbidden" city. Ugh, I guess I am admitting that there is no fun when mother is around.
To refute that statement, I think I'll take my girls to the park. But those eyes-in-the-back-of-my-head will keep my children from being kidnapped by a gnome in the woods, thus making them the victims of a fantastic plot.
I think I have just stumbled upon a great masters thesis if I ever choose to go back to school. Hhmm.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Happy Women's Voting Rights Day
Everyday is a holiday, and today is Women's Voting Rights Day. Woohoo!
Mormon women were pretty active in the Women's Suffrage movement. There's a good chance that my own women ancestors played a role in allowing me the right to vote. Here's a picture of Susan B. Anthony with the Utah Women Suffrage leaders. (Just don't ask me which one she is. Feel free to point her out if you recognize her.)
Today is also Bad Poetry Day, so go write yourself a dreadfully bad poem! And because I'm sure you were all dying to know, tomorrow is Snuffleupagus' Birthday! Oh yeah, it's also the birthday of Bill Clinton and the Indianapolis 500 Speedway. I'm particularly fond of Snuffleupagus because it was a nickname of mine in high school.
While researching preschool lesson plans for Grace, I came across this huge list that verifies that, yes, everyday is holiday! Beware, this may give reason for some fairly ridiculous but pretty fun future postings. :) I am especially looking forward to National Punctuation Day, Singing in the Rain Day, National Toasted Marshmallow Day and Toilet Paper Birthday.
Mormon women were pretty active in the Women's Suffrage movement. There's a good chance that my own women ancestors played a role in allowing me the right to vote. Here's a picture of Susan B. Anthony with the Utah Women Suffrage leaders. (Just don't ask me which one she is. Feel free to point her out if you recognize her.)
Today is also Bad Poetry Day, so go write yourself a dreadfully bad poem! And because I'm sure you were all dying to know, tomorrow is Snuffleupagus' Birthday! Oh yeah, it's also the birthday of Bill Clinton and the Indianapolis 500 Speedway. I'm particularly fond of Snuffleupagus because it was a nickname of mine in high school.
While researching preschool lesson plans for Grace, I came across this huge list that verifies that, yes, everyday is holiday! Beware, this may give reason for some fairly ridiculous but pretty fun future postings. :) I am especially looking forward to National Punctuation Day, Singing in the Rain Day, National Toasted Marshmallow Day and Toilet Paper Birthday.
Monday, August 17, 2009
I'm looking forward to...
Three days of...
No washing dishes
No cooking
No picking up toys
No diapers
No laundry
Singing in a choir
Feeling validated for being a mom
Being around hundreds of other women like me
Roaming my college town
Seeing old friends
Attending classes pertinent to my life
Going to the temple whenever I want
... and absolutely NO cleaning.
Does it sound like a fictional fantasy land? The whole no-cleaning-cooking-laundry part does. But that beautiful land exists.
Ever since Janson started traveling all over the country a year and a half ago, he's promised that I'd be able to go on a trip of my own. Last fall I thought, "I'll go to BYU Women's Conference next spring, but that seems too faaaaaar away." Well, the conference came and went, and there is still no logical time in sight when I can make my get away.
So, the other day I made my plans. And they are happening. BYU Women's Conference 2010 here I come. It's eight months away, which gives me plenty of time to make it happen. It's so far away they don't even have any info online yet. But it's also so far away that it gives you women a chance to think about joining me. It would be so much more fun with someone I know! Now, the totally minor and insignificant task of finding someone to watch my kids for four days.
No washing dishes
No cooking
No picking up toys
No diapers
No laundry
Singing in a choir
Feeling validated for being a mom
Being around hundreds of other women like me
Roaming my college town
Seeing old friends
Attending classes pertinent to my life
Going to the temple whenever I want
... and absolutely NO cleaning.
Does it sound like a fictional fantasy land? The whole no-cleaning-cooking-laundry part does. But that beautiful land exists.
Ever since Janson started traveling all over the country a year and a half ago, he's promised that I'd be able to go on a trip of my own. Last fall I thought, "I'll go to BYU Women's Conference next spring, but that seems too faaaaaar away." Well, the conference came and went, and there is still no logical time in sight when I can make my get away.
So, the other day I made my plans. And they are happening. BYU Women's Conference 2010 here I come. It's eight months away, which gives me plenty of time to make it happen. It's so far away they don't even have any info online yet. But it's also so far away that it gives you women a chance to think about joining me. It would be so much more fun with someone I know! Now, the totally minor and insignificant task of finding someone to watch my kids for four days.
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