Why are You Wearing Your Pajamas? They're Not Pajamas! It's My Warm-Up Suit. Why Do You Need Warming Up For? For Doing Stuff. What Kind of Stuff? Super-Cool Stuff You Wouldn't Understand. Like Sleeping?

My beautiful daughter is almost 4 years old. She loves to talk. She LOVES to talk. She also talks quite loudly. She is very talented at projecting her voice. This is great for plays, not so great for grocery shopping. For instance:

There is an employee at the supermarket using a sticker gun to put "organic" stickers on each individual banana.
Ash: "Hey! What is that guy doing? Is he doing stickers?"  Of course this loud enough that the guy (and half the store) can hear. Everyone is polite the guy smiles, I explain what he is doing.

Two minutes later there is an employee at the supermarket unloading produce and stacking the empty boxes in a very tall stack.
Ash: "Hey! That guy is making a tower! He is making it too tall! It will fall and make a big giant mess!" The guy laughs and nods at Ash.

 We get in line at the checkout counter. The woman that gets in line behind us is wearing eyepatch. I see it at the very same time Ash sees it. I do not have time to avoid it. Oh Noes.
Ash: "Mommy! That woman is a pirate!"
The woman blushes and apologizes for looking strange.
"No!" I say. "She thinks it's awesome. Huh, Ash? You want an eyepatch, too?"
"Yeah!" Ash shouts. "I want one like her."
Phew!

But the best one came later, when we were over at our neighbors house. Our neighbor was holding Alexa, when Alexa started to fuss.
Neighbor: "Are you hungry? You want some food?"
Ash "No! She only eats Breastmilk! You need a boob!"
The comeback was just as good:
Neighbor: "You know, when I was twelve years old that would've made me cry."

I've Got Sand in Places I Didn't Even Know I Had

Since we live half an hour from the beach, you would think we would frequent it much more than we actually do. After several beach trips, I find myself thinking that I am not a big beach person. I like it once I am there, but driving out there, finding a parking space, and then hauling thirty pounds of beach chairs, beach umbrellas, towels, sand toys, a picnic basket, boogie boards and water bottles, not to mention a small child, is exhausting.

Our ward does a weekly beach day. Not wanting to brave the beach with two children and no husband, I did not attend. Suddenly seized by an adventurous spirit, I decided we would go this week. I tried to only pack priority stuff. We ate lunch right before we went. We went early to find a parking space.

Alas, I got so lost, so by the time we found the right beach, we were ten minutes late. I couldn't find a good parking space and had to park down the street. I put the baby in the sling, then lugged everything to the beach while trying to encourage mt preschooler to walk at something faster than a snail's pace.

We made it! Out of breath, I dumped all the stuff, then set up our little camp. The trek had left Ash thirsty. I happily produced her spill-proof children water bottle from my bag and handed it over. She took one sip, then accidentally dropped it in the sand, covering the mouthpiece. I hadn't brought more water. She was still thirsty. She started to cry.

This is why I'm not a beach person.

Dentist? You Said We Were Going Dirt Biking Through the Cemetery.

Here is a random fact about me: I have never lost a tooth. I had a loose tooth once, but the dentist pulled it out before it fell out. He was pulling a few other teeth and decided to throw that one in for free. That's how all my baby teeth came out: Being pulled by the dentist. This was done in an attempt to give me straight teeth. Apparently my mouth was way too small, and the orthodontic work needed to start before I had permanent teeth.

So I don't suppose it comes as a shock that I'm not a big fan of the dentist. Not that I've had a really bad experience or anything, just that I feel I've already spent way too much time in a dentist chair. My mother had to drag me to the dentist as a teenager. The last time she did that was when I was seventeen years old. I have not been back since. 

Last week we finally got dental insurance. During a fit of adulthood I actually made an appointment for myself. I was secretly hoping that my teeth would be too rotten to salvage so they would give me fake teeth which would mean no more dentist trips ever. 

Alas, no. My teeth are awesome. Besides the fact that the hygienist nearly fainted when I told her it had been ten  years since my last cleaning, things went smoothly. I have one new cavity.  Thank you, parents for giving me awesome genetics for teeth. Sadly, Drek's genetic's for teeth trumped mine with Ash. I fear she has inherited his terrible teeth, and my terrible mouth. We might just have to move straight to the fake teeth for her. 

How Did Your Brain Even Learn Human Speech? I'm Just so Curious

I went into an unfamiliar superstore to do my grocery shopping. After spending way too long searching for each food item in the expansive layout I still needed to find the molasses. It wasn't down the baking aisle, or next to the honey or the syrups. Not sure where else it would be I flagged down an employee and asked him. 

"Where is your molasses?" 

"Molasses?" 

"Yes." 

"Uh..." he looked around him, then back at me. "Is that like a drink?" 

I was startled. I had been prepared for him not knowing where it was, but not knowing what it is?! I laughed, shook my head and said I would just keep looking. A few aisles over I flagged down another worker and repeated my question. 

"Molasses?" 

"Yes." 

"I don't know. What is it?" 

"Um...processed Sorghum?" Which of course was very unhelpful. "It's a dark, sweet syrup used in baking." I quickly added. 

"Oh! Try the baking aisle!" 

Yes. Thank you. Very helpful. 

I never did find it.  Is molasses really that uncommon of an ingredient? Or is it the fact that it is an ingredient and not an end product that makes it so unknown? 

It's About to Get Very Cold In Here

I do not like to be cold. I order my water without ice. I'd rather have tap water than refrigerator water. I don't like Popsicles. I can only eat small amounts of ice cream.

I love leaving the car in the sun, and then getting in after the heat has been trapped inside; especially when I've been inside an air conditioned building. I can feel the cold being pulled from my skin. I love that feeling.

So it's not really a surprise that our house has not had air conditioning. I like the house being in the lower eighties. However, I do feel bad when we have guests over for dinner or games and everyone is sweating despite the windows being open and the fan running. I feel even worse when we have guests sleep over, and a tiny bedroom fan does little to keep them cool during the summer months, especially when they have to close the window at three in the morning because of those horrible roosters.

After a heat wave that send Sunland into record high temperatures, Drek decided it was time to get a repair guy out to see if he could fix the air conditioning unit. The guy was so overbooked it took him two weeks to finally come over, but he did, and within an hour he had our surprisingly efficient air conditioner up and running. Drek was at work at the the time, so I sent him a text:

Good News! The air conditioner works!
Bad News: I'm cold. Can I turn it off now?

At least we'll have it for guests.

Who's Flying This Thing? Oh, Right. That Would Be Me.

In May I flew back to Hometown. We flew out of a tiny airport, which has the benefit of really short security lines, and no awful Backscatter machines.

I carried Alexa in a sling. This particular sling doesn't press her to my body, but keeps her more open so I tucked a blanket in around her body to keep her warm and protected. Using the sling kept my hands free to deal with Ash, and all the stuff you have to do to get through the security line.

First, we had to show our ID and tickets. While we were doing this, a man who was ahead of us, and already passed that checkpoint and in the process of taking off his shoes and preparing to go through the metal detector, was told he couldn't take his water bottle. Instead of throwing it away, he stopped, opened the bottle and chugged it. This wasn't a problem, as there was no one else behind him waiting to go through. Actually, besides all the many guards milling about, Waterbottle guy and my group were the only ones around. The problem came after he was done; he looked around confused, then came back and asked the guard checking our IDs if he knew where he could recycle his bottle. The guard was startled, not used to being approached from the back.

"What?"
"I have a bottle. Where do you recycle?"
"I don't know, man."
"The bottle. I need a recycle can. Is there one out there?"
"If you go our you'll have to come back through security again."
"I need to recycle my bottle."
"Ok, man, knock yourself out.

So he pushed passed us in search of a place to recycle his bottle. The guard finished with us and I took Ash's hand to guide her to the conveyor belt. While I was putting all metal things into the bins, taking off my shoes and balancing the baby in the sling, WaterBottle guy came back, and plopped he bins down right in front of ours on the conveyor belt. H then just sort of stood there, looking back toward the first guard. I hesitated, not sure what to do. The X-ray guards were waiting for someone to put there stuff through, and the metal detector guards were waiting for someone to walk through, but I could't get around this man, and he didn't appear to have any intentions of moving. After a few seconds of looking at guards, looking at the man, and then looking at my bins, then back at the man, he looked at me in and in in a surprised voice said

"Oh! Did I cut in front of you?" I smiled but before I could answer he added:   "I'm sorry! I thought you worked here."

It was one of those moments when you open your mouth, and then close it again, then open it again, then close it again. What could I say to that? I had a baby in a sling, a three-year old on one hand. I'm barefoot and juggling a carry-on, a diaper bag and the bins. So I said nothing while he kindly moved his bins to the other (empty) conveyor belt so I could move through security.

On the other side of the metal detector (which I did NOT set off, by the way) a female guard pulled me aside to get a closer look at the sling. Alexa was clearly visible, but I'm she wanted to make sure I wasn't hiding anything else in there. She poked the blanket with a gloved hand.

"What's up with the blanket?" she asked in a hostile tone.
I was taken aback. "What's up with your face?" I almost replied, but luckily my self-control kicked in and I kept my mouth shut. I simply removed the blanket to show her that it was covering the body of a tiny newborn, not a metal exploding device.
She glared at the sling, then at the blanket. "You should have put that thing through the X-ray." She snapped, then turned around and walked off. I wasn't sure what she meant by "thing." The blanket? The sling? The baby? In all three cases, she was wrong, and in any case, she was gone, so I shrugged, tucked the blanket back in, and tried to balance the Alexa and Ash while putting on my shoes.

In the meantime, WaterBottle guy made it through the other metal detector. He came and stood next to me, doing nothing, just looking around. A woman, apparently the travel companion of WaterBottle guy, Stood next to the other conveyor belt.
"Your stuff is over here." She called to WaterBottle guy, pointing to his bags and bins waiting on the conveyor belt.
He didn't move.  I finished repacking all my stuff. He was still standing next to me.
"Hey! Your bags are right here!" The woman called again.
He didn't show any sign of hearing her, so, despite the risk of him thinking I really do work there,  I smiled and pointed to the his stuff. He looked in the direction I was pointing and made a nod. I walked off to find my gate.

Later, I saw him get on the same plane I was on. It's too bad our seats weren't together, but then, he may have been confused as to why I wasn't flying the aircraft.

I Decided to Sleep in the Car so My Snoring Wouldn't Bother You, and I Left a Tape Recording of My Snoring so You Wouldn't Know I was Gone

My baby is three months old today.

When I had Ash I didn't realize I would have to recover. I didn't realize babies took up SO MUCH time. I tried to jump right back into life. For the most part I did, although it resulted in a really, really long recovery time. The first three months were physically and mentally exhausting because I never gave myself any down time.

With this baby; I wanted things to be different. I pictured staying in bed for the first month, doing nothing but feeding and caring for the baby. I pictured slowly getting back into life, only leaving the house after the three month mark.

Ha ha ha ha ha ha.

That just doesn't happen if you don't have help. No matter how much you WANT to stay in bed, if you are the only one watching a three-year-old, you have to get up. So you have a kidney infection that turned into a life threatening antibiotic resistant kidney infection that makes you writhe in agony? Too bad. You still have a three-year-old, and no one else to help out. Life marches on and so must you, no matter how much you love the newborn and are desperate to soak up every single minute enjoying your baby while she is still small.

And so we jumped back into the swing of things about two months, three weeks and four days ago. Some of that jumping was voluntary, so was be being thrown in kicking and screaming in protest.

But, here we are at three months, so now there is no reason why life can't get back to normal. I'm fully recovered from the birth (finally) and the stuff I'm taking for my infection seems to be working; I'm only in pain if I miss a dose. It will take a while for the infection to clear out, but I'm sure it will be a full recovery.

So I guess I should start posting on my blog again. I do have some great stories. Stay tuned!