Why Would You Waste an Egg Like That?

Look! Easter Eggs! 

This year Ash thought it would be fun to dye eggs, then put the dyed egg into the egg carton and spoon more dye over the egg. This resulted in a cool rainbowing effect: 

 Drek did two tricks this year. This one he put oil into the dye to create a cool marble pattern:

And this one he dipped a toothbrush in the undiluted food coloring and flicked the paint onto the egg: 

I cut tape into the shapes I wanted and applied to to the egg. After I dyed the egg, I pulled the tape off:

On this one I then dyed the again: 

For my last egg I added Googly eyes, 

which Ash liked so much she decided to copy: 

You Are Perhaps the Most Resourceful Individual I Have Ever Known

Over the weekend we enjoyed a small camping trip. Our church arranged it, chose the spot and time and sent out reminders that the they would provide breakfast but each family was in charge of their own dinner. There was also a note that the festivities would start at four in the afternoon, and that a giant propane grill and a fire in a fire pit would be provided for the families to cook their dinner. 

Drek has passed on his love of camping to Ash, who was so excited about our adventure and decided she needed to dictate what we would have for dinner: Hot dogs. Drek was thrilled. He bought fancy hot dogs for them and I bought a package of Vegan Smart dogs for me. 

We arrived at the campground at three fifteen, found ourselves to be the first arrivals and promptly chose the best spot to set up our tent. After arranging our temporary abode, a few rounds of horseshoes and a romp on the playground (it was a nice camping spot!) the next family finally showed up. That was about five. Another family arrived at five fifteen and it was a steady trickle after that. 

At six, the family in charge of propane arrived. Drek set up the giant grill, hooked up the propane and tried to cook our hot dogs. 

After a lot of troubleshooting and wondering why our hotdogs were only mildly less-cold, it was decided that the propane tank was nearly empty. No other tanks had been brought, so of course someone was sent back into town to get a propane tank for breakfast. Propane for dinner, however, that was now off the table. Also there would be no campfire. And starting your own fire is not allowed. 

Not to be discouraged, Drek and Ash went out with the unquenchable camping spirit: Be resourceful! Be creative! Cook hot dogs! 

A few minutes later they returned to camp with deliciously cooked hot dogs.  Drek had borrowed the camp master's microwave. The resourcefulness! The creativity! The cooked hot dogs! 

After a delicious dinner we curled into our sleeping bags and slept as best you can on a camping trip with fifty other families all close together. Sleeping becomes more difficult when one of those families has a child that cries. All. Night. Long. Ah, camping. 

But the next morning we had an amazing and plentiful breakfast, an Easter egg hunt,  and lots of rides on the zipline! Ziplines make the best camping trips. 

You Know, You Wreck Everything You Touch. Why Not Try and Make Something for a Change?

My Sophomore year in High School I took a ceramics class with my two best friends. I really disliked the teacher and the set-up was a little pathetic: thirty kids in the class but only four pottery wheels. Still, the class became one of my favorite classes in the entire four years.  I attribute most of that to the fact that we were largely unsupervised in the class and, like I said, I had my two best friends with me, but we took other classes together and I didn't enjoy them as much as ceramics. I think there was something so therapeutic about molding, sculpting and just playing with the clay that really resonated with me. 

As a fifteen year old I had grand visions of becoming an amazing potter as an adult. I would dig my own clay out of the earth, spend hours in my pottery studio, fire my amazing creations in the kiln I made myself in my backyard and sell the finished products for thousands of dollars.   Sadly, the class was only one year and since it had fulfilled the art requirement I needed to graduate, there was no reason to take another class. I never really thought about it again. 

A few months ago a friend of mine emailed me about a Groupon deal for a two-session pottery class. I jumped at the chance. 

A while later the two of us found ourselves at the class, armed with clay and sitting at a potter's wheel. Once the wheel started spinning and I felt the clay under my hands, all my grand visions of backyard kilns and thousand dollar creations came flooding back to me. 

The teacher had a simpler vision: we could create two pots. And here they are:  

It took three hours. Three hours with no kids, no laundry, no cooking. Three hours to hang out with my friend. Three hours to mold, sculpt and play with clay. It was wonderful. 

We left our pots there to be fired in the kiln. Several weeks later we went back to glaze our pots (something I have never done before).  I made them look like this: 

A few days later our pots were all done and I went and picked mine up: 

I loved it. I want to take more classes! I want to join the pottery club and spend my evenings and weekends creating things out of clay!  But money. And time. Sigh.

Still, I'm not going to wait another ten plus years to get my hands dirty again!

And the Children Aren't Puppies, They're People. And Sooner or Later, Nana, People Have to Grow Up.

Today my baby Alexa turned one year old. That means a party! 

The food was served in baby food jars. We had fruit salad and veggies: 

Goldfish, raisins and cheerios:

even the strawberry cake was served inside baby food jars!

Alexa seemed to enjoy it. She is only one, and since ine-year-olds aren't fans of large crowds, the guest list was..well, very short. Me. Ash. Daddy. Amy. And Princess Alexa, of course. But I think she'll appreciate the pictures once she's a little older.

As You Can see, My Young Apprentice, Your Friends Have Failed. Now Witness the Firepower of This Fully Armed and Operational Battle Station!

In the midst of the Rebellion of our Backyard the rabbits and ground squirrels were slaughtering our garden plants, our grass, and our soil. Holes populated the barren dirt. Traps were proven obsolete. It seemed nothing to suppress the Rebellion. 

And then Drek built an owl house from scratch. We hoisted it high into our palm tree and hoped somewhere, sometime, an owl family would move into the house and rescue our yard from the war zone it had become. 

We waited and waited and waited. 

At last! We can hear baby owls inside the owl house! We catch glimpses of the parents around our house, and Drek even saw one devouring a mouse that had the misfortune of being stark white against a brown backdrop. We haven't actually seen any owls in the box, and we can't look inside because it is so high up, but owlets are very noisy, and we can hear them!

It seems the rabbit population has dropped and in the panic of avoiding the owls two ground squirrels have been caught in our traps. Finally! Once owlets grow up into hunters, we will crush the rebels and bring this war to an end! 

I am a Pretend Guy That... Comes Around... And... Gets Run Over by a Lawnmower Blade!

April marks three years since we moved into this house. We bought it as a foreclosure and have slowly...oh so slowly...been fixing it up to make it look less abandoned. When we first moved in, our to-do list was several dozen pages. Somewhere on the first page was to get a front lawn. Right away we realized if we installed a lawn, we would have to take care of it. Mowing. Watering. Yuck. Also, sod is crazy expensive. So a front lawn was moved back a few pages. 

Three years later, we finally decided to tackle it. We decided we wanted grass! We decided we wanted mulch! We decided we wanted landscaping! Here are the results: 

Before:  

After: 

 Before:

After: 

Before: 

After: 

 Before:

After:

And some more after:

We decided to divide the yard: A lawn area and a mulch/plant area. We also added parking by the road and put in railroad ties to discourage cars from driving on our very expensive grass. Grass that we now have to water. And mow. Yuck.  

If you’re enough lucky to be Irish... You’re lucky enough

Confession: We didn't have Lucky Charms for breakfast this morning. We're trying not to have sugar, so we had green smoothies and oatmeal. 

After breakfast we had to move fast! I had invited over thirty families to our second annual St Patrick's Day Irish Party for the Kids of the Ward Who Aren't in School at Ten in the Morning!  (The title could use a little work) 

We had more families than last year, but the best part was the treats! Everyone was asked to "bring a green, orange and/or white treat to share." Last year I did the fruit salad. This year we did green smoothies in rainbow cups: 

(Ash made the colored sugar herself! Dipping all those cups took an hour!) 

And quesadillas made from spinach tortillas and cut into shamrock shapes. I had the ranch for dipping in the middle contained by green and orange bell peppers.

Last year the majority of people brought carrots. A few served them on a platter, but I did get a few bags of baby carrots handed to me with a shrug "I just couldn't think of anything else that was healthy." 

This year we had some great ideas! Only one person brought carrots, and it was served with celery and cucumber!  We had a cabbage salad, a delicious white bean salad with carrots and cilantro, dried coconut snacks, popcorn, cutie oranges... all fantastic ideas! 

The decorations turned out well too, if I say so myself.  

The party was a huge success! I'm already planning next year's party!

After all that, dinner was just a family affair: asparagus, carrots, baked mashed potatoes and homemade soda bread:

Maybe next year we'll have Lucky Charms for dessert. 

Banana. So Funny.

Slowly, so very slowly, we are fixing up the front yard of our house. Our most recent fix-up: banana trees!

They are trees that grow bananas! Bananas will grow on these trees! Real bananas! Edible bananas! Grow, my little banana harvest, grow!

We got the Loot, Didn't We? Then I Call It a Win. What's the Problem? Should I Start with the Part Where You're Stranded in the Middle of Nowhere or the Part Where You Have No Clothes?

I'm going to warn you right now: This story contains brief nudity. That was a spoiler, but I think it needed to be said.

We stayed in a one bedroom suite. The front room included a little kitchenette that had a microwave, a stove with two burners, a kitchen sink and a full size fridge. Halfway through our trip to Fredericksburg I discovered my hotel had a free "stock my fridge" service where you give them a shopping list by eight in the morning and by five in the afternoon the items would magically show up in your fridge/cupboard. Since I had to take the bus to the closest store, I was delighted.

 I handed my grocery list over to the appointed person by the appointed time, then gathered up my kids and went out for the day. I like to be gone when room service shows up, and I wanted to be gone when the delivery person came to deliver my groceries. We got back to the hotel at noon. I glanced in the fridge; our food and not yet arrived. Thinking they would show up soon and not wanting to be there when they did, we changed into our swimsuits and headed down to the hotel pool. After two hours it was time for Alexa's nap. Back in our room I was disappointed to see the groceries were still undelivered. I put the sign on the door that said to go away, realizing that I would probably have to pick up the groceries myself  from the front desk. But at least I wouldn't have to take a bus to get there! 

We showered all together, taking off our wet swimsuits and washing off the chlorine.  I left Ash in the bath and took Alexa to get her into some clothes. I sang to her as I carried her from the bathroom to the bed. The door to the front room was wide open and I walked right in front of it. . . yeah, you see where this is going. I saw movement out of the corner of my eye, jumped behind the wall and maybe even let out a squeal. I looked out into the front room in time to see the delivery woman jumping out the front door in no less of a hurry. She may have also let out a squeal. She poked her head back in: "Sorry! I'm so sorry!" and the quickly disappeared.

After she left I rushed into the front room, carrying my naked baby in front of me as some sort or pathetic shield, and locked the door, wondering why I hadn't done that in the first place. I had a flash of anger. I put the sign on the door! Wasn't that enough? Don't they knock before coming in? And then I started to giggle. That poor women. Not only was she subjected to the pure view of my fluffiness. She also must have heard me singing. What an assault on her senses.

But my fridge was stocked! She had put the frozen groceries in the freezer, the milk in the fridge and even put the Cheerios in the cupboard.

I decided to leave her a big tip by way of apology. Just how much of a tip was standard for such a situation?

Half an hour later, just as Alexa was drifting off to sleep, the hotel phone rang.

"This is the the manager of the hotel. I just wanted to personally call and apologize for the...the incident."  She paused, not sure if she was being too discrete. "The incident that took place a half hour ago."

"My staff member realized you had the sign on the door, but she wanted to get the perishables but away and she didn't know anyone was home. She shouldn't have gone in, and I apologize, but she wanted to get those groceries in the freezer. She didn't realize you were home until... well, until the incident. I just wanted to apologize and let you know that all those groceries are on us today. There will be no charge for the groceries and I hope you accept out sincerest apologies."

Which ended the deliberations of how much I should tip. I didn't try the "stock my fridge" service again, but I did lock my door for the rest of the week whenever we were done with the pool.

When Do I Ever Complain About You Practicing the Violin at Three in the Morning, or Your Mess, Your General Lack of Hygiene, or the Fact That You Steal My Clothes? Uh, We Have a Barter System...

During our stay in Fredericksburg we used public transportation to get us from the hotel to the historic sites we visited and back. Public buses contain such a variety of people: Some are really friendly and talkative, others have their headphones in, their head down, and their fingers furiously texting. We had two trips that were startling different experiences:

During one trip we sat in the seat in front of two young college girls. At first they talked about their classes, but very quickly they were distracted from their conversation by my baby, who kept smiling at them over my shoulder. In their same hushed tones they cooed at her, waved, and laughed when she waved back. They were apparently delighted by her attention and kept saying how cute she was. I don't think they knew I could hear them because suddenly things took a rather dark turn:

Coed 1  "That is seriously the cutest baby I have ever, ever seen."
Coed 2  "I know!"
Coed 1  "No, really. I want that baby. I want to keep it forever."
Coed 2  "At the next stop we could just grab her and jump off the bus and run away."
Coed 1  "We couldn't run too far. Maybe all the way to Mexico."
Coed 2  "I think Canada is closer."
Coed 1  "But the baby would get so cold."
Coed 2  "Not if we just kept cuddling her, she is so cute."
Coed 1  "They would let us across the border as soon as they saw her smile."
Coed 2  "She could charm us across any border."
Coed 1  "Seriously, though."

And then they went back to talking about their classes. I was very amused. When we got off the bus (at the same stop as luck would have it) I walked away feeling light and happy. My baby is ridiculously cute.


During the return trip on a different day we sat in front of two women who were somewhere between mid twenties and mid thirties. As soon as they sat down one of them made a noise and made a comment about a smell. A few seconds later she again brought up a smell, this time in a louder voice.

Immediately on the defensive, I covertly sniffed Alexa's diaper: clean. I leaned over and sniffed Ash's coat: smelled fine to me.

"Who does that? I mean, why would anybody smell like that?" She asked her friend. At that point I wondered if she was sensitive to perfume, and someone on the bus was wearing too much. But then the women made a comment about how such a bad smell was making her sick. A few seconds later she grabbed a bag from her friend and threw up. She was sitting right behind me. It was so gross.

She retched a few more times, then very loudly began to complain about the smell.

"Bus driver! Do you have disinfectant spray or something? You need to spray. I just threw up, it smells so bad. Someone smells so bad it made me sick. I just threw up, it's so bad. Why would anyone smell that bad?"

The bus driver didn't say anything, but handed back a trashcan and a bottle of  disinfectant spray. The women sprayed so much of it that it made me sick. Someone pulled the cable to indicate to the driver he needed to stop at the next stop, and less than a minute later the bus driver stopped and a man exited the bus. He was cheerful and polite to the bus driver, thanking him for the ride, but as he passed me in the aisle I caught a strong whiff of urine. As the bus drove away I watched him form the window: he was homeless. I don't even think he was at his stop.

"Who smells like that? Why would anybody smell so bad?" The women behind me muttered to her friend.

My heart dropped into my stomach. How could she be so cruel to someone so cheerful? He had to have heard her. I'm sure that was the reason he got off the bus. I wish I had figured out what was going on earlier. But even if I had, what could I have said or done?

And Chambermaids Were Once Such a Liberal Breed. My Wife's a Chambermaid, Sir

We just got back from accompanying Drek on a two week business trip to Frederick, Virginia. It was a wonderful trip. It's always fun to travel, visit new places and new climates, but I'm not going to lie: the best part was that we were in a hotel and a maid cleaned our room almost every day.

It wasn't a vacation for Drek; on the contrary, he had to go into work early, stay late, work weekends and travel with two little kids instead of flying solo, but both of us agreed it was better than being separated for two weeks.

On the other hand, it was a great vacation for me! Teaching Ash to swim in the hotel pool, taking the kids across the street to the indoor playground, walking around the historic section and talking all the tours, spending all day every day focused on my kids instead of the laundry or vacuuming or grocery shopping.

I did make a critical mistake: Since I usually pack too many books on vacations, and since I usually don't have time to read books on vacations anyway, I decided to only pack two books (but they were thick books!). The first day we woke up in the hotel I realized there were none of the usual vacation distractions (i.e. family and friends) to keep me from reading. I also realized my book was so good I read it I couldn't put it down. I finished both books by day three. Day three of thirteen.

On day four we went to a bookstore and I spent  twenty dollars on a young adult novel. Don't get me wrong: I LOVE books. I love owning books. But I usually buy books from library sales or thrift stores. I usually buy classics or books that have already read, loved, and want my kids to love. Spending  twenty dollars on a new hardback young adult book just shows my desperation. I finished it on day five. I think I didn't like it just because I paid twenty dollars for it and it wasn't a  twenty dollar book. Had I checked it out from the library, I think I would have loved it.

On day six I tried to get a library card. For a while I thought it would actually work, but somewhere someone must have caught that my address was a hotel and stopped the paperwork. Shrug. It was worth a try.

On day seven I downloaded an audiobook to my phone. On day eight I signed up for a free trial on Netflix. Those two things were more than enough to keep me occupied during the kids' nap time. And the Walking Dead is a perfect thing to watch late at night when your kids are asleep and your husband is stuck at work until ten or eleven.

I make it sound like all I did was read, but it was only a few hours a day. We spent a lot of time outdoors, walking the historic streets, visiting really, really old graveyards and touring things like Mary Washington's house and Jefferson Davis's lodgings. I love that stuff! I planned to see more, but the last two days of the trip we were forced indoors. The snow had melted, the sun was shining and the skies were clear, but it was freezing. We had to run across the street to get to the indoor playground because even a few minutes in those temperatures made our skin ache from cold.

 I'm glad to be back home with my library and my summer weather, but I miss having maid. I really, really liked having a maid.

In the Twinkling of an Eye

Our family went on an adventure last week. We drove to Kanab, a little town right outside Kolob Canyon.  There is a very popular destination in the canyon, named "The Wave." My Brother-in-law obtained some hiking permits so we met in Kanab for a few days to make a vacation out of it.

The drive there was so very long. The last few miles were the longest as it was late at night, dark, and we were going over a mountain in the fog. Drek was driving, I was in the passenger seat. I watched the road in confusion. What was all over the road? After a minute a became more confused: What is falling in the air? Is that ash? Did a volcano explode? 

Drek said it right before I thought it: Snow. Oh. Right. That would be snow. The reason we moved to Sunland. I guess I'm a little too used to the weather in Sunland if I can't recognize snow when we are driving through a blizzard. 

Still, we made it safety. We had a wonderful time with family and went on some beautiful hikes: 

Your Mother Died to Save You. If There is One Thing Voldemort Cannot Understand, it is Love. He Didn't Realise that Love as Powerful as Your Mother's for You Leaves Its Own Mark.

I've always been fascinated by stories of mothers doing heroic things for their children; mothers falling down stairs holding their newborns and somehow instinctively protecting them so the baby is just fine, mothers carrying their children insane distances to get medical care, mothers boiling squash and turning the water into a sweet syrup to make gingerbread for her kids on Christmas morning...

This explains my love for all things Harry Potter, but also, maybe a subconscious reason why we co-sleep?

The reason adults don't fall out of bed every night is because their body is subconsciously aware of the bed and the body's position in it (It's called Proprioception). You can toss and turn all night but you won't fall out because your unconscious knows how far you are from the edge.  While doing research on the kind of parent I wanted to be, I read that when mothers co-sleep with their children, the mother's subconscious becomes aware of the child in the same way. You won't smother the child the same way you don't fall out of bed. But here is the amazing part: I even read about mothers being so aware of their babies that their hand reached out caught the baby right before the baby fell out of bed while the mother was asleep. The mother's subconscious wasn't just keeping tabs on the mother's position relative to the baby and to the bed, it was keeping tabs on the baby's position to the bed. Amazing, no? I call that a super-power.

Anyway, to play it safe we never got into a situation where Ash would ever fall out of bed. The same was true with Alexa until a night a few months ago when I fell asleep on Drek's side of the bed and Alexa was asleep between me and the edge of the bed. In the middle of the night I suddenly awoke to my hand grabbing Alexa's foot as Alexa's head went over the edge of the bed. Now conscious, I gently pulled her back beside me and rolled her over the top of me so I was between her and the edge of the bed. She never even woke up. I was so excited I couldn't go back to sleep. Those stories were true! My subconscious is a hero! Way to go, mothering instincts!

The same thing happened a few nights ago: once again I was sleeping on Drek's side of the bed, and once again Alexa was between me and the edge of the bed. Once again I awoke to my hand grabbing Alexa's food and once again I moved her to safety without ever waking her up. The second time it wasn't so amazing. Meh, yeah, I know I have superpowers. I'm going back to sleep. I didn't even fully wake up that time.

Today I was taking Alexa to the bathtub when I slipped on the wet floor of our bathroom. In that split second I was terrified that in my fall I would band Alexa's head on the side of the tub, but somehow my motherly instincts took over and I moved in such a way that my knee banged into the bathtub , my elbow banged into the toilet and Alexa was safe and sound in my arms wondering what in the world that was all about. I may have nasty bruises all over my body, but they are a small price to pay for keeping my baby safe. And for knowing that my mothering instincts are perfectly honed. Maybe I should learn to trust them more often.

Just Look at the World Around You, Right Here on the Ocean Floor. Such Wonderful Things Around You. What More is You Lookin' For?

Here is a little-talked-about benefit of being a mom: you get to visit all sorts of cool places under the pretext of "outings" or "educational field trips". A twenty-something at a playground by herself is odd and frowned upon, but give that twenty-something a child and suddenly it's not only expected, it's encouraged!

This week our outings took us to the aquarium. After wandering through the exhibits we ended up sitting in a room with a hundred other people  facing a giant window that looked out into a giant tank filled with different fish, sharks, and kelp. There were two divers in the tank talking to us through microphones and an aquarium volunteer  facilitating on our side of the window. The volunteer would ask for questions, pick a child with their hand raised, then repeat that question into the microphone so the divers could hear it. The divers would then answer the question. 

While the divers were feeding the fish the volunteer was talking us about the different species in the tank. She then asked the question: How many inches does this giant kelp grow in one day? 

I was already impressed: A plant that grows at least an inch per day? Amazing! Lots of kids raised their hands and the answers varied: Four inches! Fourteen inches! Fifteen inches! One hundred inches! And then my four-year-old raised her hand. The volunteer called on her. In a very matter-of-fact tone she said simply: "Twenty-four inches." 

I smiled, as my guess was more toward the two or three inch range. To my surprise the volunteer responded with "Ding ding ding! That's correct! This species of kelp can grow up to twenty-four inches per day!" 

I looked at my daughter in astonishment. She nodded. Hadn't she just said twenty-four was the right answer? 

I thought this aquarium outing  was for the benefit of my children, but who am I kidding? My kids are genius. I'm the one that needs to learn this stuff. 

Up Where They Play All Day In The Sun

My very favorite Christmas tradition happens on the night of Christmas Eve: We get dressed in our jammies, load our blankets and pillows out to the car and drive around looking at all the Christmas lights and listening to the Christmas music on the radio. As a child I remember looking forward to this with just as much anticipation as opening presents. I loved being together as a family, gasping over beautiful displays, laughing at mistaking real deer for Christmas decorations, judging if a cul-de-sac was too covered in snow to get the car in and out without getting caught in a snowbank,  and falling asleep to the hum of the car engine. My dad knew all the best decorated houses and neighborhoods in the city. I remember picking out my favorite decoration and knowing just which lights I would decorate my house with, once I was old enough to have one.

Now I am old enough to have a house. I do have a house, but I do not put up my long list of Christmas lights up on the outside. Christmas lights in Sunland seem a little sad to me: forever waiting for that soft blanket of snow that has no intention of coming. Christmas light in Sunland seem like a mimic; a knock-off. It just doesn't hold the same magic.

Still, my daughters don't seem to mind, so the tradition of Christmas Eve light-driving continues. Even if it does make me a little nostalgic for Hometown.

Don't feel bad for me. In fact, if you are cursing your current cold weather, do not read this post any further.

Feeling nostalgic for hometown lasted almost twenty four hours. After that the high seventy degree weather won me back. Saturday we spent a perfect day on a beautiful beach: playing ultimate Frisbee barefoot in the sand, getting a small sun tan, eating the most delicious food barbecued in front of some breath-taking waves, and generally enjoying the summer weather.

Monday we drove down to the tide pools. The tide was at a low and we went in search of all sorts of sea creatures. We went in shorts and barefeet: swimsuit tops and sunglasses. We waded through the foot-deep warm waters that were as clear as glass and poked under rocks to see the crabs scurry away. We saw lots of sea anemones, that I learned you can actually stick your finger in and they will suck it in along with all thjeir little waving petals. We toughed a few crabs, which reared up in irritation, and we even saw a starfish and a the coolest, softest sea slug (which is much prettier than it sounds). Afterwards we soaked in a hot tub and made plans to spend New Year's Eve Kayaking and stand-up paddle boarding on the lagoon.

Now this is the way to spend Christmas vacation. I love it here.

He Does Not Go To School. He is Too Busy Making Those Sneakers You are Wearing. I Kid You. He is a Doctor. I Kid You Again. You are so gullible

I've always been gullible, although I prefer to use words like: "open-minded" or "non judgmental". Still, if I read something: it's true. if someone tells me something: it's true. Multiple choice tests were always the worst for me. I'd know the answer to the question, but when I read the different choices I'd find myself saying: "Oh! I see how that could be true. That one does have a good point. I see where this one is coming from..."

I've found that part of me changing a little bit. Maybe it's because I'm a little wiser (hah!)? Maybe because I'm getting set in my ways? I'm not sure. But here is the proof:

A friend of mine told me that T (a person we both know, but not very well) was engaged. "Was" being the key word. According to T her finance died last week. He was bitten by a spider and died within a day.

This is not the sort of thing a raging arachnophob likes to hear. And yet, when I heard, my reaction was to cock my head to one side and say "Huh. I do not think that is truth."  Which is a surprising reaction coming from my gullible self. I sat down to google the chances of dying from a spider bite. I din't get very far. All websites with such statistics also have pictures of spiders, so I couldn't stay on the website for more than half a second.

Still, from what little I could glean, unless T was engaged to a very small child or a pregnant woman, her statement was false. Chances of dying from a spider bite in the U.S. for anyone: slim to none. Chances of dying from a spider bite in the U.S if you are an adult male: none.

So I answered: "Are you sure she didn't break up with her finance and she just wished he was eaten by spiders?"

Who knows? Certainly not me.

That very night I was outside taking my laundry off the clothesline. It was already dark and I was barefoot (of course. The reason I live in Sunland is so I can go outside, at night, mid-December, with no shoes and not get cold).  As I stepped on to the grass my toe began to burn. I knew instantly I'd been bit or stung by something. I screamed and shook my foot but in the dark I have no idea what bit me. I ran inside to apply a baking soda paste (which works great on bee stings) while trying not to jump to conclusions. It was no use: I was bitten by a spider. I'm going to die. I have less than a day to live. This is my punishment for being skeptical instead of compassionate toward T. Good-bye cruel, vengeful-spider-filled world.

I am so very sick.

For Thanksgiving we went to Drek's sister's house and met up with the majority of Drek's family like we did the year before. I have loved it both years. I'm all in favor of making it a permanent Thanksgiving tradition.

But it does have drawbacks. Thanksgiving is during cold and flu season. There are fourteen small children (and counting!). One of them, if not half of them, will be sick. Or getting sick, or recovering from being sick.  Gathering children from three different states ensures that new germs are being introduced to young, inexperienced immune systems.  Sugar is a must for Thanksgiving (cereal for breakfast, pies for dessert, candy everywhere) so my children's  immune systems shut down. Driving home all day in a car with sick kids, breathing the same contaminated air means that by the time we arrive home we are all sick.

After spending WEEKS with sick kids, sick husband, and being sick myself, canceling plans, missing LLL meetings, and generally being miserable, we finally all start to recover when we are hit with a new strain of something and I find myself even more sick than I was, with a throat so sore I can't swollow, wondering if, between a four year that won't take naps no matter how sick she is, and an infant that coughs so hard at night she throws up on me (three nights in a row), I will ever have three hours of uninterupped sleep ever again.

And yet, it's December. And I have small children. It should be a given that our family spends a month hovering near the brink of death. That's just how it works. I should be grateful that our family usually misses this sort of thing, and, in fact, it's been a few years since we were all this sick.

But I'm not grateful. I'm cursing these germs. I'm furious at the timing. My dear friend starts emergency chemo and radiation today. I haven't been able to see her since we left for our Thanksgiving vacation. I can't go anywhere near her, or have her come anywhere near the girls, because she might get our germs and since she has no immune system, she will die.

So here I am, uselessly lying in bed, waiting. Hoping I will get to see her before it's too late.

There Up In The Sky A Star To Follow

I got Drek clothes for his birthday. Since Drek isn't big on surprises, it was more of an announcement: "Hey! I'm getting you clothes for your birthday! Happy Birthday!" and then pulling up a few websites for him to order from. He ended up ordering from two stores: Macey's and JC Penny. He ordered with the intent to return the majority of clothes, since clothes shopping for him is an every-other-year event and he's not sure what styles and sizes he will like.

The clothes arrive, he picked his favorites, we were careful to save all receipts, tags and bags. Today I googled the nearest mall (yes, I had to google it. Why would I go to a mall except to return stuff ordered online?), packed the kids in the car and off we went! As I turned the corner and saw the mall in front of me I was hit with a sudden realization: It is December. I am at a mall. Oh noes.

Finding a parking spot was awful. I had to follow someone to their car and take their spot. Once we parked I realized Ash didn't have any shoes. You may think that would have been enough for me to give up and mail the return back, but no. I had already googled this place. I already wasted gas to get here. I already found a parking spot.

So I put Ash on my back in the baby carrier, hold Alexa in one hand and the two huge bags of returns in the other hand. Off we trek through the parking lot! Into the mall! Bypass the huge line to ask the employee where I return stuff! The answer was in any line. So I wait in line for ten minutes, do a quick and pleasant return, then set out through the mall to find the other store: JC Penny. Of course it is on the other side of the giant mall. While we are hiking through the enormous building Ash is asking all sorts of questions, because she's hasn't been inside malls very much and she wants to know what EVERYTHING is. We make it to the middle of the mall and, of course, there is Santa. Groan.

Ash wants to talk to Santa. She doesn't know what she will say, but she really wants to talk to him. I tell her we'll talk with Santa on the way back, because I still have one huge bag that I is slipping out of my hand, but I can't switch hands because I'm carrying Alexa.

We finally arrive at JC Penny. I find the Customer Service desk and wait in line. When we finally make it to the front I am informed that returns must be done downstairs.

I search for an escalator, take it downstairs, find the desk marked "Service: returns and exchanges" and wait in that line. When I get to the front of that line, I am told that internet return are at a different place. She directs me to the proper counter. I go off in search of it, get lost, ask someone else, wander around, and finally find the desk. Even better; there is no line! I give her the bag and the receipt and then watch in horror as he does the return by hand. She does not scan barcodes like Macey's. She has to to match the twelve digit numbers by hand. Because I am returning seven items out of a ten item receipt, it takes a long, long time.  While I wait realize that in two years, when Drek is wanting new clothes, I might have forgotten this experience, so I send him a text:

Rule 1: No clothes for your birthday because that means I am returning in December. From now on you get clothes for Easter.

Rule 2: We are NEVER ordering from JC Pennys EVER AGAIN. Macey's, on the other hand, is just fine.

After everything is returned I make the journey back across the mall with my hands bag-free, although the child on my back is getting heavier by the minute. We make it back to Santa, who has just gone on lunch break and won't be back for an hour. I can't say I'm not thrilled. I tell Ash that Santa will be at the ward party, so she can talk to him tomorrow. She does not complain.

We head out, find our car and I slip the two kids back into their carseats. Finally! I can breathe again! Of course, getting out of a mall parking lot in December is a feat in itself, but we are triumphant!

P.S. The Bird Bites

A few weeks ago we were settling down to bed when I heard some suspicious noises coming from our front room. I made Drek investigate. He determined the noise was coming from our fireplace. During the day, if a bird lands on our chimney it makes the same noise, but this was night! Drek took a flashlight and went outside. A few minutes later he came back in, took me outside and shone the light up on our chimney.

An Owl! It looked right at us! After marveling over how beautiful it was, we tried to tell it that we had a beautiful home needing an owl family set up ion our palm tree. The owl made no movements to indicate it understood.

Still, last night we saw an owl sitting in our palm tree! Cross your fingers that a family moves in and decides to eat our pesky ground squirrel for dinner!

I Mean, What the Heck is It, Anyway?

And for today's mystery creature I give you: 

It was at the freshwater aquarium but without one of those handy description plaques. Is there such thing as a turtle mole? 

Call me a Two Dollar Costume King, Baby

So...Halloween. I decorated the yard like a graveyard again. We STILL don't have any landscaping, which is a perk for Halloween. I also put Halloween lights up in the windows, which was festive. 

We painted/carved pumpkins. We decorated our car for the ward trunk-or-treat. It took two minutes and turned out awesome: 

Other than that, Halloween was very low key this year. I tried to do our Annual How To Host A Murder, but missing two weeks of October made it so we couldn't get our schedules to work together. So, since we already had the game (Class of '54) we invited couples from our ward over. It went great! This was the first How To Host A Murder ever where I thought my costume was spot-on. So I was quite happy. The game went great; this episode was very enjoyable, although no one figured out the murder.

As for actual Halloween costumes...I just didn't have the time, energy, or interest this year. Alexa's was bought from a thrift store, and the base of Ash's was, too; although I did modify it quite a bit. Actually, I never ended up finishing Ash's costume at all. And then every single time she dressed up I forgot to grab the face paint, so her costume was never complete. Sigh. I'll try again next year.