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. 

It's Terribly Simple. The Good Guys are Always Stalwart and True. The Bad Guys are Easily Distinguished by their Pointy Horns or Black Hats, and, uh, We Always Defeat Them and Save the Day. No One Ever Dies and... Everybody Lives Happily Ever After.

We are back from our three week trip to hometown. We had a lovely visit with everyone in hometown but my goodness I am so glad that trip is over. It was terrible.

The first day of our trip Drek's cousin died. He was only nineteen, so it was very tragic. The only upside was that Drek came out to the funeral, giving us a few days together were otherwise we wouldn't have seen him for several weeks.

After Drek left my dad went in for his scheduled surgery and stayed overnight in the ICU. He made a miraculous recovery, and it was great that I could be there to visit him and my mom and the hospital, but the results from the surgery were devastating: my dad has lung cancer.

A few days later came the diagnosis I was expecting but dreading for a dear friend of mine: Also lung cancer.

The day we left my grandpa died.  So, really, I wanted to leave as soon as possible before something else catastrophic happened.

The people and the events we did while we were there were wonderful. It was simply bad timing.  On the bright side, I got to hang out with my wonderful family, family in-law and friends. My sister came home from her mission and I did get to see my mountains that I miss so much while I am away. Although it did snow. SNOW. I despise snow. I'm so glad we are home.

I'm Paying. Which Means I'm Paying. You Know That's Right.

While doing our treasure hunt we discovered this place has a playground! I took the girls down to the park and let them run around with a dozen other children. One other parent was sitting at the bench across from mine; He had a boy and a girl that were playing quite nicely with Ash, but I couldn't see any other parents. After a few minutes I realized that all the other kids knew each other. I also noticed there a group of adults moving luggage between the parking lot and the suites just next to the playground. A few of the adults, as well a few of the children, were wearing BYU apparel. I smiled: A family reunion.

A few minutes later the grandmother came out of her suite to watch the kids. She sat down next to me and I asked if it was a family reunion. She grinned and proudly explained that six children and seventeen grandchildren were here for five days. "I'm only missing one daughter, my youngest. She's at school in Hawaii and couldn't miss class."

"BYU Hawaii?" I asked
The grandmother looked startled so I quickly explained: "I just noticed all the BYU logos."
The parent across from us overheard the conversation and chimed in "I'm actually not with them." It was then I realized he, too, was wearing  BYU hat. He came over and we all talked about BYU and what we were all doing here. The grandfather came out to join us. I asked him why they planned a family reunion so lat ein the summer, after school started.

The gradfather answered: " Well this year was a little different. We do a family reunion every year, see? I like to get the kids back together for a few days. We've done different resorts and cruises during the summer. The kids like to pick and make me pay for it. Hahaha! But this Christmas one of my daughter's found really cheap airfare to Hawaii, so as a Christmas present I gave everyone a Hawaii vacation so we could all see the youngest daughter. We did that in March and it was there that it came out one of our sons-in-law has never been to Lake Powel, and that was the family camping spot every year, so I rented a few boats and cabins down there and we roughed it back in July. No one wanted a camping trip to be the actual reunion so I did this with all my reward points. Gotta use 'em sometime, right? We got five suites right next to the playground for all the grandkids."

...Man. I am apparently attending the wrong family reunions. Who do I see about switching?

Fifty Men on a Dead Mans Chest. Yo-Ho-Ho and a Bottle of Rum

We are off on our trip to Hometown for my sister's homecoming! First stop: The beach!

My uncle invited us to a resort right on the beach for the weekend. It is awesome here! They have all sorts of activities you can do throughout the day. Some activities are for kids, some activities are for adults. Once activity caught my eye: Pirate Party! Come party like a pirate, make a pirate hat and search for treasure! Ages 3-12. 

Wahoo! Pirate Party! Ash and Alexa and I attended and were rewarded with an awesome pirate hat-craft and cool pirate snacks (goldfish, apple juice and gold coin chocolates). But the best part was the "search for treasure": hidden around the resort was little treasure chests. Clues to the location of each chest were in riddle form on your "treasure map".  In each chest were certain color beads. Once you found the chest, you take a single bead out of it and add it to a bracelet. Once you collect all the beads, you return to the start to claim your prize. 

I am delighted. This is my kind of game! I am so ready to Amazing-Race-this-up! The person in charge handed out the treasure maps to all the other moms with toddlers and preschoolers. They all started with riddle number one, reading it aloud to their child and asking the children where they think the treasure chest might be. 

I, on the other hand, came up with the winning strategy: grabbing the girls we dashed out of the room. Safely out of earshot of the competition, we started with with the last riddle. I read it aloud before shouting: "The pool! Ash! It's at the pool! Let's go!"  We dashed of on a dead run. Once we got to the pool I let Ash find the treasure chest. We got the bead and added to Ash's bracelet. I read the next clue aloud. "Front Desk! Hurry! We have to go fast!" 

And so on. With two clues left to go we ran into the other mothers and children coming in the other direction. While we had already found eight chests, they were looking for their third. They had stopped to play mini golf after spending several minutes on the playground. Clearly they did not have such a sense of urgency. 

We blasted through the last two riddles and showed up breathless at the start. Ash showed her completed multi-colored bracelet to the startled employee. 

"You are done already?! Wow! That must be some sort of record! I don't think I've ever had anyone finish so fast!" 

Darn right. That's because you've never played with the fierce Pirate K-La before. Or maybe I'm just a little over-competitive. 

And the Last Ee Saw of ol' Bill Turner, He was Sinkin' into the Crushing Black Oblivion of Davy Jones' Locker

Drek has been working a lot of overtime lately. He has a lot of business trips coming up, and since I am also planning a trip back to Hometown to see my sister come home from her mission (!),  Drek decided to take half a day off to spend a little time with the family.

My parents are here visiting us for the September of Birthdays and together we drove down the beach to spend some time on the sand, in the waves, and in a kayak.

I convinced Drek to come with me in the Kayak to take a closer look at the cove and hopefully see some sharks. Drek and I convinced Ash to come with us. We inflated our Kayak, strapped on our Life jackets and off we went!

Drek is not a fan of the ocean. He is not a fan of cold water, either. He says being cold and wet is his description of a terrible time, so Ocean Kayaking isn't really something he seeks out. Ash is terrified of the waves. She'll play in the sand, and this summer she even played a little bit in the tint little waves, but the big crashing waves frightens her. So here we are, trying to take an inflatable kayak out into the big, cold, wet, waves.

Once Ash realized where this boat ride was headed, she tried to bail. This was as ew were launching, so it caused quite the rocking of the boat. Thankfully, Drek and I were still out of the boat, so were were able to stabilize it before she flipped it over. We got her to sit down, than ran it out into the surf. I jumped it and paddled like mad, two waves later Drek jumped it and joined me in trying to keep the kayak pointed towards the waves so we could go over them instead of under them.

A few minutes later we were out on the beautiful ocean rolling on the waves, happy as can be. Both Ash and Drek cheered up quite a bit and we had a pleasant time getting to the cove, looking at the sea lions, spying bright orange fish swimming below us and taking in the sunshine. Sadly, there were no sharks. This time of year is supposed to be the time you can find them by the hundreds. They swim close the the shore and are harmless, so I was really hoping to be able to touch one.  

We had enough and made the return trip. As we started getting closer to the shore, the apprehension returned. Drek said he was just going to jump out and carry Ash to the shore, rather than risk a wave capsizing the boat with them both inside. He had a valid point, since Ash can't swim, and we weren't sure how she would handle being in the water with a life jacket, since she never had before. Besides, if the boat flipped over, who knew if a head would come in contact with something hard, or what the waves would do to a four year old.

"No! We can make it! Besides, the risk is the best part!" I exclaimed gleefully. Drek was not so sure, but since I insisted both he and Ash remain in the boat, he didn't have a lot of options.  He ran over a few instruction as we got closer.

"Keep the kayak straight! Make sure to keep it straight! Once I say, paddle as hard as you can!"

We were close enough to the shore for the rolling waves to turn into a crashing surf. The first wave hit us, but didn't take us anywhere.

"Paddle! Paddle Hard! Keep us straight!" Drek shouted.

 I paddled. Ash held on for dear life.

Suddenly, I saw creatures swimming below us. "Sharks!" I cried out with delight. "Here they are! Look! There are all over!"

"PADDLE!" Drek shouted "Don't get distracted!" I could hear the panic in his voice as another wave crashed into us, nudging us closer to the sand.

I paddled, and we glided gently onto the beach a few waves later. Super easy.

We pulled the boat onto the shore, helped Ash out and I somehow convinced Drek to return to the waves with me, sans kayak, to look for the sharks. I had a blast diving under the waves just before they crashed, while Drek hung back and tried to bob over them, cursing the fact that he didn't take off his T-shirt before it became soaked and freezing. I found a few huge fish but couldn't see any more sharks. Ah, well. I'm pretty sure I touched one with my oar.

I had such a good time I wish Drek could take more days off so we could do it again, although I think Drek might make up a few work assignments to avoid it.

He showed her how olfactory cues could trigger memories, release floods of endorphins and pheromones and caused by logical and psychological reactions that deeply impacted the way people behave and feel. Using the smell of unfiltered cigarettes to evoke fond memories of her grandmother, he opened her eyes and heart through her nose

I've discovered my local grocery store has "testers" of essential oils. You can open any of these testers, smell it, and dab a drop on your finger. Since a drop is all you need with essential oils, I've found this is a fantastic way to try out new oils before I buy them. I try a new every grocery trip.

During my last trip I decided to try Lime. I dabbed a drop on my finger and smelled it. Instantly I was transported back to the house my grandmother (Nanny) lived in several years ago. She had a lime tree in her backyard. Since I couldn't have been more than ten or eleven at the time, I didn't really care about the lime tree, but my nose sure did! I found myself standing right in front of that tree. Happy memories of my Nanny came flooding back. Until that moment, I had no idea I associated the smell of limes with her.

The next day I went out to my own lime tree to check it out. Drek and I only bought and planted the lime tree because it was on sale for such a good price. It was not one of the trees we tried to seek out, nor was it one we planned for. We planted it two years ago, and it has thrived. A few weeks ago I noticed there were actual limes growing on it. Remembering my smell association, I wanted to see if any of the limes were ripe. To my delight, there are dozens of limes growing on my tree. Several are close to ripe, but only two seemed ready to pick. I brought them inside and made a black bean, corn, avocado salad with honey lime dressing. The recipe uses lime juice and lime zest. I t was wonderful to zest and juice my own limes, but even more wonderful that the smell made me think I was making the recipe alongside my Nanny.

It Gets Better Every Year

September in our family means birthdays! My dad's birthday is first, and once again I attempted to make him his favorite cake: Tunnel of Fudge cake.

This cake requires a lot of eggs and a lot of butter. I think using our farm-fresh eggs from happy chickens really pays off for this cake. Look at the delicious batter:

Lat year, it tuned out great, it just didn't slip out of the pan quite intact. This year, it came our perfect:

Inside you can see the tunnel of fudge: 

Next year I'll cook ir for 5 minutes less. I'm hoping that will make the tunnel a little bigger. After all, it is the best part of the cake! 

Whodunnit

It is no secret that I am a HUGE fan of ABC's reality show "The Mole." I've seen all five seasons, and watched seasons one and three multiple times.  I can remember most of the games and can tell you who won  and who was the Mole in each season.

I'm such a huge fan, I have run my own "The Mole" games with my own challenges, twists and intrigue. They are awesome, just ask anyone who has played them.

So when I heard ABC was doing a reality show called "Whodunnit" that was a sort of spinoff of "The Mole" I recruited Drek to watch them with me, settled down with some chocolate and watched away. I had the killer pegged in the first episode. The show wasn't as great as the Mole, but, still. It was ok. Until the finale. What in the world? Who wrote that stuff? That was awful! The winner had no idea who the killer was! The whole point of the show was to find the killer! The only reason he won was because he could run faster?

The winner should be the person who knew the identity of the killer. However, when you are down to three, there is a good chance both players will bet on the same person, so speed is also crucial.  The last episode featured a game filled with puzzles and riddles that were very cool, but misused.

Here's what should have happened:

The three players would race to complete the riddles. The last riddle would take them to Giles. When the players told Giles "You are not the killer" Giles would hand them a set of golden hancuffs and say "Then take these to apprehend the real killer."

The players would race back downstairs and use the last puzzle piece to The three players would race to complete the riddles. Once they had all the correct puzzle pieces and their question mark was all lit up, the screen would tell them which room was their next destination, and the key unlocking that room would be given to them. Each player would have their own room. They would run to the room and enter alone. The door opens to a tiny enclosed space, no bigger than a bathroom. The door locks behind them. The far wall would have a single locked door is pained with the "Whodunnit" logo. In the middle of the room is a stand with two buttons. Above the each button is a picture and name of the two suspects.  Kam's room would have Kris and Lindsay, Lindsay's room would have Kam and Kris. The task is simple: Pick the killer, press their button. The winner had to have picked the correct killer first. Meaning, if they both picked the correct killer, the person who got through the riddles fastest would win.  The camera shows the players pressing a button, but it doesn't show which one is pressed. In one room, once the button is pressed, the lights go out. In another room, once the button is pressed, the room fills with a poisonous gas and the person dies.

On the other side of the door is a room in which all the dead players wait with Giles. They see two open graves (because this show loves over-the-top cheesy dramatics). In one is a winner, in one is a loser.  Giles announces that the killer has struck again, that poor ___ is dead, and the latest victim of the killer. They all just watched it happen.  Since all the dead are gathered together, they invite the last victim to join them, and they do. They are met with hugs and condolences and lament that they came so close!

Giles then announces that in one grave is the killer, and in one grave is the winner. The dead players are so excited! Who is the killer? Who is the winner? The viewers at home can't help being caught up in the excitement and anticipation! Giles announces The winner will walk out of their grave. At this point the winner (still not knowing if they have won or not) would have made it to the far door in the dark, and the door would finally unlock, swinging open into the open grave, where they would climb out.  The other players would scream and gasp! There would be shouts of  "I knew it!" and "WHAT?!" The winner would beam and smile and laugh because they had just won! And how wonderful! And they had envisioned this moment!  Giles would give them a hug and congratulate them and say they have just won a quarter of a million dollars!

Finally, the killer would appear and confront the winner. The killer would recite that creepy rhyme and the winner would pull out the golden handcuffs and use them on the killer. Giles would announce that it was at long last time to leave the mansion. Everyone would walk out together and watch and clap as the winner got into the limo and drove away with Giles as the driver. The last shot would be the killer, in handcuffs, surrounded by the players they had murdered.

THAT is a much better finale that the one that actually aired.

So, PLEASE, ABC, for your sake, hire me. I am so available for doing the next season of The Mole and/or spinoff.

Together We Can Rule The Galaxy As Father and Son

I threw a Star-Wars themed co-ed baby shower for a friend of mine to celebrate her impending padawan. It turned out mostly awesome: 

I had these pictures hung up on one side of the door:

 

 along with pictures of the expecting family. on the other side of the door, I had the expecting family's baby pictures, plus these:

 (baby Leia from episode 3)

(Harrison Ford's baby picture)

(Baby Chewy on Hoth) 

The idea being they had to match the adult picture with the baby picture. The game was a hit! 

I was delighted to see that a lot of the games were also star-wars themed. I think this child will be brought up with the Force. 

We May Experience Some Turbulence and Then...Explode

Our church had a big celebration the last Saturday in July. We had sack races, ball tosses, face painting, a huge dinner, and live music. Prizes were actual live fish, Candy was given out in abundance and everyone had a great time.

One of the "attractions" was a firetruck. The kids could sit in the back on the benches and be driven around the block. Drek and Ash went to stand in the line to ride the firetruck, and I stood in the line for dinner wearing Alexa on my front.  When Drek and Ash got to the  front of the line, I asked the women behind me in the dinner line to save my place while I took pictures. Once I got up there to take pictures, the man in charge of loading the kids on and off said he needed another adult to hand off the end of the firetruck to make sure the kids stayed sitting down. he asked if I would do it. I asked if it was okay if I did it with Alexa and he answered "No problem! He drives really slow."

So Drek and I stepped up on the back of the truck, held hands, and used our free hands to hold onto the bar. The firetruck started up and slowly crawled out of the parking lot and onto the road.

Where it promptly sped up. Speeding down the road at 30 MPH, bouncing all over the place, I let got of Drek's hand to cling to the bar. The kids were delighted. Shouts of "hooray!" and "whee!" sounded as I held on for dear life.

In the end, we had only one fatality: a kid's hat flew off her head and was lost.

When we pulled back into the church parking lot I gratefully took my place back in the dinner line (it was a very long line) and was content.

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!