Brendle Bunch Blog

Extra Extra! Halloween Giveaway

2010-09-17T12:23:00.000-07:00

Just wanted to invite all my favorite peeps over to my other blog...retropolitanhip.blogspot.com for a fun Halloween giveaway. I'd love to see someone I know win. Here's what's up for grabs.

THREE collectable figurines by Lori C. Mitchell. I am totally addicted to these things.

I would love to see someone I know win.

Live and Let Die

2010-08-25T10:33:00.000-07:00

I know I am not nearly as devoted to regular posting as I once was. I am trying to get back into a routine. The summer pretty much ruined me. Going to bed at midnight getting up at ten. I know...shameful.
Needless to say, the school year is kicking my can, but I'm getting back into the groove.
There's a lot that has happened that I never bothered to share. So, before I get to the point of this post allow me to sum up the last three months in three paragraphs.
In June the kiddies graduated from the sixth, fourth and first grades. We headed down south...to St. George, to kick-off our summer vacation. While there, little Ro celebrated her first birthday.
In July Carter turned twelve and was ordained a deacon and Quinn turned ten. Later than month Chad and I celebrated our fourteenth anniversary.
In August not much exciting happened, except for the kids going back to school. It is always a bitter sweet time for me. I'm glad to have some time to clean the house, go to the grocery store, and use the bathroom without an audience... But, at the same time I am sad to see my babies leave me behind and act all grown up. Did I mention Carter started Junior High. I thought I might need medication, but I handled it in my own special way...retail therapy. Holla!!!
And well, now it is time for me to share a bit of sad news...which is the point of my post. Yesterday we lost someone dear. Squiggy Brendle has gone to the big cage in the sky. I found her yesterday in her igloo. She was in bad shape...barely moving. She's gotten sick once before which resulted in a two day hospital stay and I.V. treatment, oh, and a $250 bill. (I swear she gets, got, better treatment than my own kids). Yesterday she was acting the same way, so I put her a little box and headed down to the Vet. The doctor informed me that she was in critical condition and that they wanted to keep her overnight for observation. A few hours later they called to say that our dear piggie had "kicked it". (Not in those words)
I just got back from the vet where I paid them another $120 and where I was given, in exchange, a little cardboard box bearing the remains of our dear piggie. It was still cold from being in the freezer overnight.
I must say that I got a little choked up as I placed the small cardboard box in the passenger seat next to me.
We will have a small ceremony tonight and bury the ole girl in the backyard. I pray that the neighborhood scavengers will politely not unearth her remains. (We have a fox in the field next to our house). Afterwhich we will celebrate her legacy...her short eight month legacy, by having an ice cream cone in her honor.
And now, I leave you with,

An Ode To A Piggie Named Sqiggy

Squiggy, my piggie.
You were so very skittish.
Even so you never bit any of us as we tried to pry you from your igloo.
I will always remember your lovely red and white fur
And your very prominent front teeth.
And the way you would poop when you got nervous.
Whenever I see green peppers or romaine lettuce
I will remember how it was your favorite and I will think about you.
You were a good pig, Squigs
And we will never forget you.
R.I.P

When Pigs Fly

2010-08-09T11:32:00.000-07:00

I have a bit of shocking news. The boy (my big boy) spoke in sacrament meeting yesterday. Of course when he volunteered he didn't realize that it was for sacrament meeting. I'm not sure what he was thinking actually. He must of had a brain fart and thought he was still in primary. Granted he's only been in Young Men's for two weeks.
Anyway, he stepped up and did it...raging nerves and all. He did awesome.
It's so good to see my young man blossom from a mini hellion who once upon a time found joy in replacing sacred church hymn lyrics with unsavory words, to speaking in sacrament meeting. Miracles do happen, methinks.
Well done, Carter. Keep up the good work.

My Amazing, Beautiful, Wonderful Wife!!

2010-07-27T07:29:00.001-07:00

"To boldly go where no man has gone before"... the inner sanctum, the society of the traveling trousers, the eclipsed twilight of dawn... the blog!! What drives any man to blaze into the frontier and attempt to conquer the unconquerable...? Insanity, of course. And I am CRAZY IN LOVE so here we go...

Over fourteen years ago, I made the most incredible decision--shocking, I know! I can't decide what to wear or eat in the morning but I knew that I wanted Erika to be my wife! Through sickness and less-sick, stupidity and less-stupidity, thin and less-thin, poor and less-poor, Erika has been my rock! I can't imagine living without her! Happy 14th Anniversary!

14 YEARS... 14 REASONS I LOVE YOU...

One LOVE... it all started with what I thought was love but now I know how little I knew and how much you have taught me about it. Thank you!
"Two" much fun! You laugh often and easily, which I love! I'm glad you find my frequent tripping so funny! :)
Three's Company! We have three kitchen tables right now, two of which are occupying my half of the garage, but I don't mind because I love that you make our home beautiful... on a budget.
Four Score and Seven Years Ago... (This is a stretch) Like Abraham Lincoln, you know how to write great (church) talks! (I told you it was a stretch! Couldn't think of anything that went with four!)
Five beautiful children! What more can I say?!
Six Pence None The Richer... I love our mutual love of music! You put up with my love of grunge and Guns N' Roses!
Seven times Seventy... You are quick to forgive me when I have been insensitive or idiotic which is unfortunately too often!
Eight Legs... I love that you get the spiders for me! Don't you like your man to show a vulnerable side once and awhile?! :)
Nine Lives... I love that you put up with my gaming! There are worse hobbies!
Ten-se... I love your hugs when I am stressed out!
7-Eleven... I want to "slurpie" you up you are so beautiful! Too ackward for public?! :)
Twelve Tribes... I love that you support our family scripture reading and prayers!
Ocean's Thirteen... I love that we share a love of the cinema.
Fourteen... Where do we go from here? I can only imagine! In the immortal words of Buzz Lightyear, "To Infinity and Beyond!"

Have a wonderful day, Babe! XXXOOO

I'm Back.

2010-07-08T13:08:00.001-07:00

It's been awhile. I am ashamed. But, I can explain. Go here to see why I haven't had time for you, then you might understand. www.retropolitanhip.blogspot.com
I promise to post something soon. I have lots to share...bithdays, trips, etc. But just not right now. Soon though...I promise.

Sweet Justice

2010-05-11T14:09:00.000-07:00

I am happy to report that my purse thief has been caught AND ARRESTED. I know it is not very Christlike to relish in the misfortune of others, but I'mo do it anyway.
HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLLA!!!
I only found out today, while I was chit chatting with my lady at the bank. In passing she asked me if I new that "our" thief had been caught. To which I responded with a very surprised no. How come no one told me sooner. Hello, it was my account she hacked into (among a bounteous others apparantly). She proceeded to tell me that it had been all over the news the past week or two. Okay, so I don't watch the news. But in my defense, all it is is sad and depressing reports on how suckish the economy and jobs and the housing market's are, intermingled with the occasional homicide and/or freeway accident. And really, who wants to go to bed with all that on the brain? Not me.
So, after bidding my bank lady adieu, I hopped onto ksl to find out what I had missed. And here it is for all you who, like me, don't watch the news. Enjoy!

Video Courtesy of KSL.com

Mmm Mmm Good

2010-05-02T19:05:00.000-07:00

So, it appears that Rowan enjoys her Oreo's as much as I.

Easter 2010. Part 2

2010-04-11T14:39:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure how it happened, but I forgot to mention a couple of memorable hi-lights from our Easter trip.
First, I tried my first funnel cake. It was delicious, but a little overrated if you ask me. I gauge my YUM factor on how long it takes me to start craving *insert delicacy here* after eating it the first time. It's been almost a week and a half and I haven't even thought about the legendary funnel cake. Now the quesadilla...that's another story. I was craving another one of those puppies the following day...and frankly haven't stopped thinking about them.
Second, Beckham got married...well kind of. It is no secret that Beckham adores his cousin Ainsley. I guess watching her shake her groove thang on stage and galavant around the festival in her sparkly little rectial number was too much for him to take. Next thing we know she and he were in the middle of a gazebo kissing. When asked what they had been doing they both repsonded "getting married". Great. Looks like we'll be moving to Colorado City.
Finally, finding out that my TWENTY year old nephew had caught hand, foot and mouth disease. The notion just sorta struck me funny (not the part about his tastebuds being inflamed or their inability to perform their only job, or the sores in his throat etc. But the fact that Alex, my twenty year old nephew had succommed to a disease usually only tots contract. I think all of my kids have had it at one point in time and I am almost positive they all caught it from eating playground dirt. So Alex, I beg to question, have you been eating pee-pee, poo-poo dirt too?)
What's more, the poor guy (who is amazing mind you and performing in the musical Miss Saigon, currently running in St. George, which I would encourage all of you to buy tickets too if it hadn't already sold out...HOLLA) had kissed a female castmember during play practice prior to being diagnosed and had to call her up and tell her that she had been exposed to the ailment. It was quite the comedy of errors.
As always, trips to see the fam never dissappoint...no matter how incestual or contagious they might be. Can't wait to see all you crazy guys again...hopefully sooner than later.
And now for your viewing pleasure, some pictures taken without my knowing by my wonderful hubby. Thanks love.

Some of the cousins. What a cute bunch of kids.

My little girlie...she's getting so big.

The happy couple.

Easter 2010

2010-04-08T12:37:00.000-07:00

Warning this post is very, very long. Proceed with caution.
The fam and I headed south for Easter this year. I was none too sad about leaving the four inches of snow that had accumulated outside. In fact, I was so over winter and so ready for spring that I didn't bother packing pants or long sleeved shirts for the kids. I probably should have checked the weather first, because a sweatshirt or two might have come in handy...whatever, what doesn't kill us makes us stronger right?
Really, it wasn't that cold. I mean it was a little chilly in the shade, but the temperature was great in the sun. Consequently, we all ended up with sunburns.
This trip south we were able to squeeze in some extracurriculars too.
Friday morning we took the kiddies to the Arts Festival. I can still remember as a kid, wandering the festival...not so much amongst the artwork, but in and about the food court rather, admiring all of the delectable delights...scones, snow cones, gyros. I have always loved food probably moreso now. So, it came as no shock that I found myself slowing as we walked passed the food court; taking in all of the savory sights and smells. This time my attention was focused on the navajo taco stand and the authentic mexican stand next to it. Lunch was going to be a difficult choice.
We passed on the food for time being...it was only 10:30 and continued to a grassy area where a stage had been set up. We met up with other family members to watch some of my cute nieces, Macie and Ainsley, dance. It was fun sitting in the sun and relaxing. It made me nostalgic for the days of my youth, which consequently reminded me of a shirt I once sported that read "sunkist in St. George". It was nice getting "sunkist", well "sunburnt" in St. George again.
After the dancing we headed over to the food area where I had finally decided on a quesadilla from the little mexican stand. It was a difficult choice, but I felt good about it.
Some of you may wonder why I settled on a humble quesadilla, but I assure you it wasn't your average quesadilla. This monster was filled with peppers and onions and cheese and so much goodness...and by goodness I mean lard. I salivate just talking about it. Chad was seduced by the delicious quesadilla too...the kids had no choice in the matter and were given a slice of pizza. We hung out with the fam and nibbled and chatted and listened to the live entertainment. Really, life doesn't get any better than that...good company and good food. It was also pretty fun watching the ecclectic mix of people the Arts Festival brings out.
The kids ran around like a herd of crazies and wore themselves out and I'm convinced that by the time bedtime rolled around we were all suffering from heatstroke. Every one slept soundly and no one woke til ten the next morning.
Just to backtrack a bit, before leaving the festival, I took the kids to a little place I used to frequent back in the day, Judd's store. It's like walking back into the past what with all the nostalgic candies, gums and sodas. Anyone remember Razzles or the wax soda bottles filled with colored liquid? My favorite from the day was black cows. We've taken the kids to Judd's a time or two before this trip and it is fast becoming a staple.
Saturday morning was conference and we caught most of the morning session. I quite enjoyed President Monson and was happy to get a glimpse at his sense of humor.
Afterwards,my sister Michele put together a special family zumba class for in between sessions. We met at the school where my other sister works and danced it up in the gymnasium. Imagine trying to zumba with rubber recess balls and kids on trash can rollers flying at you from every direction. Oh, and one ginormous cage ball too. This event kinda epitomizes my family...relative organization with a bit of chaos mixed in with it. It was a good time, and it helped ease my mind about all of the poor food choices I had made and would continue to make while on vacation.
Later that day we returned to the school for a family picnic and Easter egg hunt. Everyone ended up ordering Durango's... mmmmmm. And the egg hunt went off without a hitch. All the kiddies seemed satisfied with the number of eggs they found and thankfully no fist fights broke out. Last year at the family picnic/egg hunt a freak mini tornado blew through; pelting us with rocks and sand and bespeckling all of the festive cupcakes with dirt. Thankfully we were able to bypass this little adventure, although the wind started picking up just as we were packing up.
Again we managed to spend adequate amounts of time out in the St. George sun and the kids slept soundly for another night.
Although it was Easter morn, no one woke up before nine to see if the goody bearing bunny had found us. Avery was a little concerned about not being at home, but I assured her the bunny knew where to find us.
Carter was the first to wake, and was so overcome by excitement that he ripped Chad's covers off and screamed "Easter". Needless to say, Chad did not share in Carter's excitement, or at his revealing gesture.
The other kids awoke and deliberated as to where the elusive bunny might have hidden their baskets this year. A few years ago, while spending Easter in St. George, the Easter bunny hid all the kids' baskets in the bath tub. The kids still talk about it and I think that the anticipation and excitment of the search is more fun than the actual basket of goodies. Sadly this year, the Easter bunny was tired and possibly suffering from heat exhaustion so he/she just put the baskets in the living room. The kids didn't complain too much about Mr. Bunny's lack of imagination or ambition.
After giving the kids a minute to look through their loot, we reminded them that it was time to watch conference, to which Avery responded "what, but it's Easter".
Aye, that girl gives me fits sometimes.
We finished the morning session and headed up to meet the rest of the family at the care center where my hundred year old grandma is living. It had been awhile since we had seen her last. And though she doesn't remember our names there is a sense of familiarity between us. She can't do much on her own anymore, but she sat and took in the craziness that is our family. Afterall, it's all her fault, right.
There was a lot of visiting and laughing and finally before leaving I had all the kiddies sing. Grandma has always loved listening to the little ones sing. When Carter was little I can her remember asking him to sing to her everytime we stopped by. Thankfully Carter had no problem obliging. This time we had the whole clan of cousins sing: Families Can Be Together Forever, I Am A Child Of God and the grand finale, Follow The Prophet...disco actions included (the song leader in our ward taught the kids some disco moves to the chorus of the song and it is absolutely hilarious. I'll have to tape them doing it and share it sometime).
I have to mention too that during our visit it was lunchtime and grandma's food was sitting on the table. Carter gently pushed her wheelchair over where my dad proceeded to help her eat. Quinn took the spoon from my dad and began feeding, well shoveling, the food into grandma's mouth. It was sweet to see my little ones being so tender and attentive.
The rest of the day was spent eating...naturally, and visiting and playing and getting ready for the trip back home the next morning.
We were sad to have to pack it in and return home...where winter was awaiting us, but I must admit that I was quite excited about the prospect of sleeping in my own bed that night.
I think already the kids are planning our next adventure south and I must admit I've been looking for a reason to head back down again soon too.
Here's the part where I say, here are some pics for your viewing pleasure...except I didn't take any. I had good intentions really, but the sun must have gone to my head, cause I didn't whip the camera or camcorder out once. I'm a horrible mother. Oh well, better luck next time.

If Adolf Hitler were a puppet...

2010-03-25T13:46:00.000-07:00

So, Carter just finished up his class rotation of biography reports. He was given the choice of picking someone famous, or infamous in his case, to research and report on.
He chose...Adolf Hitler. Shocker!!!
Frankly, I was a little concerned at first, that he would CHOOSE to research someone so...well, horrible for lack of a better word. And then I remebered back to when I was in sixth grade and preparing for my sixth grade oral report.
The morning of, I recall my mother handing me a felt swastika and black eyeliner pencil to put in my backpack for later use.
When I got to school and it came time to stand before the class, one by one, and share what we had learned, I pulled out the felt, swastika armband my mother had made for me and secured it appropriately around my upper, left arm. Then I removed my mother's black eyeliner pencil and drew on the tiniest of moustaches above my upper lip. Voila!!! There I was...Hitler incarnate.
I remember feeling slightly uncomfortable standing before the class...not only reporting on pretty much the worst human being to ever grace the earth, but looking like a miniature version of him to boot.
I couldn't tell if Mrs. Wright's smirk meant, "look at the little cute Aryan, Adolph Hitler wannabe", or "what a horribly atrocious sight" and frankly it didn't matter. All I wanted to do was finish my report and abandoned the swastika and "stache".
Thankfully for Carter, no dress up was involved...only a creepy puppet.
His assignment was to make a puppet resembling that of Hitler, which he would then use to deliver his report in front of the class. As I said, creepy. But atleast the boy wasn't having to dress up like the dude.
Anywho, here he is...Adolf Hitler, puppet style. I've also included a few facts Carter shared during his report for your edification.

Adolf Hitler
Born April 20, 1889 in Braunau Austria to Alois and Klara Hitler
Was a bright, intelligent and popular child.
Considered becoming a monk at one time.
Wanted to go to art school which his father did not support.
Was rejected by two art schools which humiliated him greatly.
Volunteered for German army and was a great soldier, receiving several medals.
Was a great and influential speaker which propelled him into a life of politics.
Became the leader of the NAZI party.
Believed in a "master race"...blond hair and blue eyes.
Killed many people and died by suicide.
Will forever be remembered as a tyrant and the guy with a teeny moustache.

My own "purse"onal CSI

2010-03-22T14:14:00.000-07:00

So, about a week ago my purse was stolen. I'm not sure how, or when exactly. I was at Wally's getting some groceries, and I remember paying for the goods and putting my card back into my purse. After that...no recollection.
Initially I thought that maybe the kiddies were up to their regular shenanigans and had hid it from me. But, when each child was pulled aside and asked of the purses whereabouts they all responded with a unified " I dunno"!
After finally accepting the fact the my dearies were not responsible for the missing purse, I headed back to place of it's last sighting...Walmart.
After checking several times, the customer service employee informed me that no BRIGHT YELLOW PURSE had been returned.
I was a little irritated by the news...mostly becuase it meant I had to go to the DMV and get a new license. Little did I know that that was just the beginning of my problems.
Though still not fully convinced my purse was missing...or more specifically stolen, I hesitantly notified the bank of my missing debit card, cancelled my account as I had a empty book of checks in my purse and got a new account number. I called all of my credit card companies and notified them of the situation and alerted all of the merchants who I have on auto withdrawel and gave them new account info. I also called the South Jordan police department and filed a report with them at the urging of some concerned and very knowledgeable friends (thank you, thank you...you know who you are).
I headed down to hell on earth aka the DMV and got a new drivers license. Ironically, the lady standing next to me was there getting a new license because her purse had been stolen. I was eavesdropping...that's how I know.
Done.
Or so I thought.
When I got home from the DMV I noticed a voicemail on my phone from what looked like a toll free number. Normally I would just delete it, thinking it was a solicitor or the dang creditors calling for the dude who once used my current number. But, I went ahead and listened. It happened to be Target's fraud department calling to inform me that there were some suspicious charges on my Target card. I immediately called them back and found out that there had been three charges made to my card, all totaling approximately $150, and all made at various gas stations in the south valley area. I confirmed that the charges were fraudulent and filed a dispute with Target. Good. Done. Finished.
Not so.
After I got off the phone, Chad informed me that the bank had called to notify him of some suspicious charges. At this point they knew about the missing debit card, as I had just been in there to close the account and get a new one. Chad disputed the charges made (including the $75 dollar charge at a Maverick...is it just me or does it sound like someone's planning the mack daddy of keg parties?) They told him they would notify him of anymore suspicious charges that posted to the account. Okay. Done. Finally.
Not!
Fastforward to today, Monday. I was leaving the gym, high on life...and vitamin water, when I noticed a strange number pull up on my phone. Again, I wouldn't normally answer a call from an unrecognizable number, but in lieu of the stolen purse ordeal I answered.
It was the bank calling to inform me that they had had a woman stop at their drive-thru, who tried to present my I.D. for making a withdrawel.
I immediately informed them that my purse had been stolen a little over a week ago and that the woman was not who she said she was. The lady from the bank said that the imposter-thief woman had already hit up two banks prior to theirs and withdrawn $800 from the account...the new account...which I had just set up. She informed me that they stalled her for as long as they could in the drive-thru, long enough to call the police and have them arrive. However, when she saw that the jig was up she laid on the gas and jumped the curb and fled...in her brand new pearl-white, Audi A6...which I believe I helped pay for...well Chad paid for (ironically an Audi A6 is Chad's dream car. Although, when it came time to purchase one I think he imagined it for himself and not for some scuzzy, scum bag, liar, cheater pants, fugitive, vigilante.
I told the bank lady I was close and could stop by. She said to come in because the policeman was still there and I could talk to him.
When I arrived, the officer was waiting. He took my information and gave me back my confiscated drivers license and wrote a few notes before leaving.
The rest of the time was spent setting up yet another account and filing yet another dispute, this time for the $800 withdrawel.
I did learn that the driver of the car had long dark hair, and was on the plumper side. She was also sporting ginormous sun glasses so as to conceal her lying, thieving cheater-face.
Before leaving the bank I also learned that the said cheater-face had ran a red light on 106th south. It sounded like she had been pulled over, but I don't know that for sure. I also don't know, if she was in fact pulled over, that the officer citing her knew she was in the process if fleeing a crime scene. I hope that news travels quickly amongst police departments and that she's currently sitting in a police station somewhere receiving a very rough cavity search.
But, if she wasn't caught this time, I hope that she will be soon. I'm hopeful it will be soon. Fingers crossed.
I'll be sure to share the dramatic conclusion...if there is one.
In the meantime keep your purse close and your eyes peeled for a bright yellow purse being toted by a hefty, dark-haired, large be-spectacled woman. And if you chance to meet her feel free to elbow her in her Adam's apple...cause that's what I'd do.

This n That

2010-03-19T09:27:00.000-07:00

I go through these phases where I have to have two or three projects going simultaneously. This past week was no exception. Here's what's been going on.

I started and completed my teacup clock. I took the artistic liberty of funkifiying it a bit. And I love it, love it, love it. It's hard to see it in the picture, but there is an ever so subtle white pattern on the inner blue circle of the clock. And then, in contrast, a black pattern around the outer rim. Here's to hoping that none of the kiddies are under it when the thing decides to rip out of the wall...that's one hecka heavy clock.

I painted ginormous polki-dots on the nursery wall. It might be a little over the top...the Big Top that is, but the walls just needed a little extra something. Besides, I broke a freaking blood vessel in my wrist painting them on so they are going to stay there for awhile. (No joke, all of a sudden I felt a weird ache in my right wrist and when I looked down I could see a bulge. The next day I had a massive purple bruise where the bulge had been. Who knew there were so many risks involved painting circles?)

I re-did the girlies bedroom. Initially I had been going for a shabby chic look, but somehow channeled grandmas bedroom instead. The girls are pretty wild and crazy, so I decided while they were at school yesterday, I would change their room into something that sorta reflected that. I went with a bird-ish theme.? I painted tree branches on the wall. And adorned each branch with a bright, long-legged birdies. Threw up a few brightly colored bird houses. Changed their ruffly, overly-girlie sheets for bright, retro themed sheets. Replaced their geyser-ly quilts with bright, youthful green comforters instead. And done. It turned out okay...for a school days work. And what's more, it only cost me about $150 to redo everything.

Now, I wonder. What should I do next? I do believe it's the boys' turn. Time to turn their Star Wars themed room into something TOTALLY INTERGALACTIC AND OUT OF THIS WORLD. Suggestions glady accepted.

Tea cup clock.

2010-03-08T11:15:00.000-08:00

Okay, this is totally off the subject, and quite possibly way too much info, but I'm gonna tell you anyway.

I was jost using the powda room (for some reason if I say/write it in an English accent it doesn't seem as W.T.) and my ickle Beck-i-kens snuck in and stole all of thee Shaw-min wall I wosn't looking. Whot a little boogie. Guess I shall jost sit hee-ya til he retuns. Ooah I could get on with whot I wos gonna say befoe thee shenanigans began. Try to fo-get that I am writing while ohn the pote. Thank you, kindly.

Shoosh, that was hard writing in an English accent.

Okay, what I meant to say, before being so rudely pranked by a three year was...
I found this totally awesome, totally cute idea for a wall clock out of teacups and saucers. I had imagined putting a cool, funky plate collage on the kitchen wall, but when I saw this picture, I thought it might be cool and sorta bohemian too.

Tea cup clock.

Or...plate collage.

What's a girl to do? I can't decide which I like best. I don't know...what do you think?

P.S. Don't go stealin' my i-de-ah (supposed to sound nicer with an English accent. Hope it worked).

**You know what I just realized. Tea (cups) and England totally go together. It's like I planned this post, or sumthin'...even though I didn't.

Oh...and one more thing.

2010-03-07T18:00:00.000-08:00

I failed to mention one more highlight from my glorious Reno trip.

See these babies. Guess how much they cost?

FORTY-FIVE FAH-REAKIN' DOLLARS! And I had to by two pair.
Ninety dollars spent ski gloves...NINETY DOLLARS!...ON SKI GLOVES!!! I knew that I was a skiing amateur, but I had no idea that ski gloves were so expensive. Do you know what I could buy with that kinda cash? Oh! Well let me tell you.

1- Three months of dance lessons.

2- A weeks worth of groceries.

3- A gay old time at Tai Pan or Rod Works.

4- A litter of zhu zhu pets.

5- Ninety-five songs off I-tunes.

6- A new pair of much needed jeans, perhaps even two.

7- A few new, very much needed bras...the nice pushy-uppy kind from V.S.

8- A ten year supply of very, very, very much needed "G's".

9- Eighteen caramel apples.

10- Forty-five cheeseburgers from In-n-Out.

***sigh***

Reno- The biggest little city in the world...whatever that means.

2010-03-07T08:52:00.000-08:00

Just got back from my little vacay to the biggest little city on earth. Wasn't too thrilled initially as I'm not much into the casino/gambling scene. But, when I got into the room and realized that I had the run of the place for the entire day...I finally got it.

A vacation...a real vacation, where I could take a bubble bath...alone, and I didn't have to worry about washing and folding any of the towels I tossed onto the floor. Or laying on the bed reading, and watching a little T.V. ...Keeping up with the Kardashian's, Eighteen Kids and Counting, Little People, Big World, The Doctor's, Dr. Phil without interruption. Dreaming about what I wanted to eat and knowing that my tummy's dreams could be fulfilled with the touch of a dial.
Yes, I realized, it truly was a vacation and I loved it.

Here are a few highlights:

1- Not crashing on the airplane (I realize my fear of flying is totally nonsensical, but I can't help it...and I am very grateful we didn't go down, Buddy Holly style).

2- Finishing a whole book in the three days I was gone.

3- Eating out = Not cooking.

4- Corn tomatillo from Chevy's. I cannot stop thinking about it.

5- Rotisserie chicken from Boston Market.

6- Sleeping in.

7- Ski lessons.

8- Crashing through a mesh net fence during said ski lesson.

9- Not breaking or fracturing anything (except my pride) during said ski lesson.

10- Going to the bathroom in the hotel room and hearing the unusual sound of snoring coming from the hotel bathroom above me...must have been some night!!!

11- The plentiful domestic altercations from our next door neighbors.

12- Pulling my first slot and losing five dollars.

13- Chad pulling the slots and winning back my five dollars.

14- Reno temple.

15- Thirty-seven phone calls from Avery the first day we were gone.

16- Spending time alone with the hubby.

17- Having a break from being mommy.

18- Hugging my babies when I got home.

Thanks to a husband who can see when I am in need of a break and MAKES me take one.
Thanks to a grandma who still showed up even with a kid who had strep, a kid who had double ear infections and a kid who was puking. No amount of See's candy can say thank you enough, but hopefully it will help repress the memories.

Wanna go on a date?

2010-02-25T09:33:00.000-08:00

A few weeks ago Chad and I told the kids that we wanted to start taking them on dates...just one child at a time and us. (I've watched enough Jon and Kate plus Eight and 400 million Kids and Counting to know that kids in larger families often feel a bit invisible. So in hopes of giving each child their own identity and special time with mom and dad, we adopted the one-on-one date night...an idea I stole from Jon and Kate plus Eight actually.)
The kids were thrilled when we introduced the idea and told them they could pick whatever they wanted to do...within reason.
Beckham's date was first and all he wanted to do was go to the store. We tried urging him to choose something else, but then realized that our efforts sorta went against the purpose of the date...which was giving the child all creative control.
So, to the store it was. Now, I know that the only reason Beckham wanted to go to the store is so he could mull around the toy section for an hour and a half. I suggested that instead of going to plain old Wally's or Target that we go to the mother of all toy stores...the mother of all toy stores that Utah has to offer anyway, Toys-R-Us.
I'll spare you all the boring details by saying that there was a lot of wandering that took place. We told the boy he could pick out one toy. He finally settled on a Fisher Price pirate island play set.
One down, three to go.
Next it was Avery's turn. She's been begging to get he ears pierced for I don't know how long and she jumped on the chance to plan her own date to the Piercing Pagoda. She was totally calm and collected until she saw the girl pull out the piercing gun. Even then she maintained her composure but became visibley nervous. When it came time for the actual piercing she sat as still as could be an took it like a true woman of pionner stock. I was so proud of her. And...she looked so stinkin' cute her pink diamond studs.
Then Chad, on a whim, suggested we get Rowan's ears pierced...since we were already there. I hadn't really given it much thought, but then Chad reminded me how often strangers assume she's a boy...even when she's wearing pink, and I was totally game. I picked out a cute pair of diamond studs and we were set. All we needed to do now was the actually piercing. I tried to stifle all the anxiety and guilt I was feeling as I pinned Rowan's head against my chest and LET the girl shoot the unnecessary earrings through her pure, virgin ears.
She freaked out, naturally. It was a cry I have never heard before...not even when she's gotten her shots. This cry was different. It was as if she knew I'd been overcome with the world and put her through this torture all for the sake of "looking cute". There was a moment of regret, then Rowan stopped crying and I got a good look at her perfectly pierced ears...and I didn't care, because the kid looked fah-reaking adorable.
When we got home and Quinn saw Avery and Rowan's ears, she was set to get hers done too. I know the kid to well and suggested pedicures instead. She was happy with the idea, and frankly so was I.
When it finally came time for Quinn's date she changed her mind last minute (wonder who she gets that from?) and decided she wanted to go the the Hello Kitty store at the mall instead.
We walked through the door and Quinn had half the store picked out. We finally narrowed her purchases down to two ridiculously over priced items...a set of smelly markers and a wallet.
The date concluded with a ride on the carousel and a quick stop by The Red Balloon.
Finally, Carter's date.
He chose to go to the movies. He's read all of the Percy Jackson and the Olympians books and wanted to see it played out on the big screen. Sadly I did not get to go on this date as I was unable to find a sitter, and also because the younger kiddies had been sick and I felt like I needed to stay with them. In my defense, I had surprised Carter at school by picking him up and taking him to lunch a few days earlier. According to Chad, Carter loved the show and they had a great time on their dude date.
Now as I consider the dates we took each kid on, they seem like no big deal to me. But, I'm pretty sure that they meant something more to each of the kids...at least to Carter and Avery. Sadly, those two are the ones most often overlooked simply because they are older and more independant. I was happy to give them the opportunity to be the center of attention, because they are super, great kids and they deserved it.
And while I am happy to have completed our first date rotation and think that we will shoot for a second cycle (that is once we've SAVED up enough money to do it again) we may have to rethink a few things. I think a less expensive date might be on the agenda next time as it has become quite evident that these kiddies know how to spend money. But that said, they were worth every penny. Time with my babies, while they are still young, is priceless.

Guess who I saw last night...

2010-02-23T09:01:00.001-08:00

Grace and Charity...um hum, that's right. Grace and Charity made an appearance last night.
FHE plans changed last minute when Quinn brought home a note from school saying it was Silver Mesa up-Chuck-E-Cheese night. She was super excited about it, so I decided to postpone my wonderful and inspired FHE lesson for another time.
BUT, on the way to Mr. Cheese's I asked for the kiddies to simmer down for moment so I could say something.
I told them that I hadn't been very happy with the way they'd been speaking and treating members of the fam and even their friends. I explained that people are naturally drawn to individuals who are happy/positive/complimentary (may have a little over their heads but...) and that I would like to see them trying to be a little more "gracious". I mentioned that if I saw any noticeable improvement by next week there would be an award. And...I left it at that.
We headed into "the Cheese" and the kids took off. I sat myself down at a table and took in the surroundings...sreaming children, flashing lights and obnoxious bells and whistles...all the ingredients necessary for a substantial headache. And aside from the stimulation overload things were...nice. They became even nicer when number one came and sat by me at the table and said he needed to tell me something. Here's how the conversation went:
Carter: Mom I need to tell you something that I did.
Me: Oh Crap!!! What happened now (only I'm not saying this out loud, just yelling it in my head. Carter must have sensed my angst as he quickly followed up with this statement).
Carter: Don't worry mom, it's good.
Me: *sigh*So, what's going on?
Carter: I just gave all my tickets and tokens to a little boy in a wheelchair.
Me: (initially I wanted to ask him if he knew how much CEC tokens were, but then I remembered...grace, so instead I said:) Wow Cart, that was really nice of you.
Carter: Ya, I saw him sitting by the air hockey table and I asked him to play with me. Then I gave him the rest of my tokens and my tickets.
Me: Carter I super proud of you. High fives.
I really was proud of the kid. He's always had a particular soft spot for kids with disabilities and I was happy that he treated that little boy just like he was a "regular" ole kid. I could tell that Carter was pretty proud of himself too.
The night continued on without a hitch. When it came time for Avery to turn in her tickets for prizes she made sure to get something for her siblings as well as herself...another gracious act, I thought.
I left Chuck's place feeling like the kids were on the right track. Either they are really determined to be better people, or they really want their reward. Either way, I happy at the positive change. I hope that our new friends...grace and charity...come back to visit soon.

Anyone seen Grace or Charity?

2010-02-22T11:14:00.000-08:00

Lately I have become very hypersensitive to my kiddies and their behavior. I wouldn't ever call them ill-behaved (okay maybe sometimes) or bad children...because they are simply that, children. They are still learning tact and manners and etiquette. And while I wish that I could instruct them once on how to be proper and they would remember, I have to realize that these are things that take time and practice to learn.
Fast forward to yesterday. I had to stay home from church with two of my "pukers" while the rest of the fam went to church. The house was eerily quiet, but I decided to take advantage of the peace and silence and just sit down and think...about random things like: how good a double/double from In-n-Out sounded, and how awesome this family tree/picture frame ditty from Rod Works would look on the wall down the hallway, and why, for the love, I haven't been able to trim off the unsightly fat pockets on my hips after weeks of working my buttocks off at the gym (or apparently not working off). Ya know good sabbath day thoughts, but...then I was struck with an idea. At the time I wasn't even thinking about the kiddies or this issue with their behavior, but for some reason the idea popped right into my head.
I don't know if you mommy's have these kinds of problems at home, perhaps it's just us. But I've become quite fed up with them and the stroke of divinity yesterday helped give me perspective.
My children are, to put it bluntly, LOUD. Just generally loud. They WALK loud, they TALK loud, they even SLEEP loud sometimes (just the occasional sleep talking/laughing). And I finally explained to them that there has to be moments of quietude, not just because momma will have a nervous breakdown, but also because it's hard to feel the holy ghost when the walls are shaking from all the noise. I've tried to make them mindful of this by simply saying "useless noise" when things get too loud. And, surprisingly, the decibal levels have tapered down a bit. It could still use some improving, but we are working on it.
The next big issue (and probably the bigger of the two) I have been addressing, but not making much progress on is "graciousness" in thought and deed. And it's got me a little concerned. I have caught my kiddies saying some very... "not nice" things to each other and it kind of hurts my heart to see that kind of interaction take place. Sometimes it's not even what they are saying, but how they are saying it...their tone of voice as it were. I mean, where did my kids pick up such sarcasm...uh hum?
As I was saying, the way my kids say things leaves a lot to be desired. And I have been wracking my brain on ways to help encourage more grace, both in speech and action. I've tried quiet, loving, little reminders like saying "be gracious" when I would see something rude or verbally clumsy take place, but I was just not getting the results, or the response I wanted. Which brings me to my heavenly little moment yesterday.
While I was sitting...pondering yesterday, I had the idea that for FHE tonight we would have a lesson on charity. We would talk about Jesus and how he was the perfect example of unconditional love...and grace. (I mean when you think about it, Jesus had a lot he could have complained about or gotten angry over...and not dumb things like who gets to use the yellow plate at dinner (you'd be surprised, but this little issue has resulted in many a shouting match...and even the occasional UFC fight) or who gets to watch the T.V. next).
We would discuss how many people said and did mean things to Him, yet He remained "gracious". Though He was surrounded by negative people, people who hated Him, He still found the positive in them.
And then, after discussing Christ and His perfect example we would all take turns telling each other what we like about each other...pay each other compliments. (I know it sounds ridiculous, but I don't think my kids have ever learned how to pay someone a compliment. I never thought it was something you needed to be taught, but apparently it is). The point of this activity being that everyone has something good and positive to offer...you just have to find it. Be positive, uplifting, gracious. And though it may be hard you do it any way becuase it's what is right...it's what Jesus would do.
In my mind I picture the perfect conclusion to our FHE...with the kiddies little halo's restored; shining brightly and perfectly above their little heads. I know that isn't realistic...you can't actually SEE people's halo's.
And, as a final test, I will challenge them to try and see the good in everyone they meet. I will encourage them to practice what we've learned by saying and doing only things that are kind...gracious.
AND...if I see any noticeable improvement by the time we have FHE again we will all go out to FUGI...and practice using our newfound grace (that part wasn't inspired...well, it was inspired by me, or my tummy rather).
I hope it works, cause it's all I got. I'm hopeful. I think they will be motivated...if not to be a better person, than to go out to dinner at least. I'll make sure to post the results.
And, if any of you wise souls have any advice or suggestions that might help my cause, I'd love to hear em.
By the way, have I told you how lovely you look today!!!

A video I found on lds.org that will also be part of FHE. It tugged at my heartstrings...I will not lie. Be prepared to shed a tear...or two.
Example of the Believers

Time Flies.

2010-02-20T21:56:00.000-08:00

It just dawned on me that my little Rowan is already eight months old and has been alive for almost as long as I was preggers with her. I also just realized that I haven't bothered commenting on any of her milestones these past months. It's amazing to me that a few months ago this little person only knew how to suck, cry and poop. And to look at her now, eight months later, and see her interacting, and moving and "talking" is really amazing.
So, in honor of my little darling I thought I'd share a list of some of her more notable milestones and newly acquired abilities...in no particular order.

1- Grunting with inflection. This kid can really make a statement with her grunts...there's her "I'm done" grunt, and her "hey, look at me grunt" and her "I'm pooping" grunt. So amazing how she can communicate without using any words.

2- Snot bubble blowing. Note: this is a seasonal skill, and while it may be quite the attention grabber, I'll be glad when it's over.

3- Snot wiping. While many of you might not consider this a noteable ability, I beg you to question...how many eight month olds do you know that can wipe their own nose? The only problem is that my shirt usually serves as the tissue...and what's more, I don't usually notice the unsightly boogie streaks til I'm out in public with no means of tidying up.

4- Human vaccum. This kid has a way with finding all the stray crumbs and awol food bits that fall onto the, uh hum, sanitary floors I allow her crawl upon. But like I always say, better her than the mice...ha, ha, ha...uh hum. And to be honest, the help in clean up is always much appreciated.

5- Melinoma detection. I don't know if this kid has a future in dermatology or what, but she has an uncanny knack for finding all the molies on my body. Then again, they might just look like little chunks of stray food stuck to my skin (refer to number 4).

6- Lip sucking. Occasionally I will become so consumed with adoration that I have to kiss my little nugget on her dainty little lips. And, almost every time I do the kid latches on to my mouth like a leech...albeit the cutest freakin' leech. It's so tender...you should really see it. Anyway, it's just amazing how well her sucking reflex has developed over the past few months.

All right, enough bragging already. I could think of plenty more but I hate to make you all jealous.
I will conclude by saying what a joy the past eight months have been. I will admit that I found myself wondering what I'd gotten myself into before the dear made her grand debut, but having her around has been wonderful. She is such a happy and content baby, which is great because, frankly, she wouldn't get the attention if she needed it. I mean, she would get the attention...I do pay attention to her...I mean it's not like I make her feed herself with leftovers off the floor...wait, I mean...
Anyway, it's been a pleasure having Rowan join our family. I can't believe it's already been eight months. Which can only mean one thing, that time really does fly when you're having a good time.

What's In A Name

2010-02-16T09:34:00.000-08:00

A few days ago Quinn's teacher sent home a paper explaining how they would be learning about "famiy heritage" in class. Their assignment was to make a poster explaining a little bit about their ancestry.
Now I will admit that I was quite tickled by this task. In my old age (I'm thirty-three) family history has become more interesting and the quest for information on my predecesors sounded quite adventurous (I don't know why, but I always think of Braveheart). I was excited to scavenge the net and explore the old family records to see what important nuggets of info I might come across. Never in my right mind did I think my greatest life question would be answered...a question I'm reminded of more often than I'd like...on a daily basis almost. That question being, "why are my boys so freakin' violent and turn everything they grab into some kind of weapon (just last night Carter hucked a cork hot pad through air like it was a Chinese star...whatever).
And here's what I uncovered: origins of the Anglo-Saxon name ASHMAN come from its first bearer, an ancient Saxon name which meant WARRIOR OF THE SPEAR. Ash, saxon word meaning spear, and man, meaning man, put together equals, "spearman".
All this time I thought Ashman was referencing the pasty, ashen complexion of my ancient peeps but no...I am decended of something greater...something nobler...something fiercer.
Now suddenly the clouds have parted and the world has become clear to me. No more feeling embarrased about my boys' disturbing affection for all things weapons. No more frustration over them using random, household items as killing devices. No more guilt over believing that I had done something wrong in the upbringing of these two...er, "assertive" boys, because...it's who they are, it's in their blood, for they are Ash "men"...(at least that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it).

Happy Birthday Avery

2010-01-27T12:21:00.000-08:00

Today is my third "fruit's" birthday. I'll keep the salutations and reminiscing brief by saying only this. Avery life with you started out...painful, frankly. Your delivery still hurts me to think about it, BUT it was totally worth it. And I'm happy to report that you've caused only minimal pain and anxiety since that time (nothing extraordinary...just the usual child rearing stuff). And although I will never be able to walk the same way again, or be able to jump on a tramp without wetting myself again, the sacrfrice was worth it...because I have you. I love you kid, minitude and all.

My new fave.

2010-01-21T20:26:00.000-08:00

So, I have a little preoccupation with music. I'm always searching for new artists, songs etc. to add to my library. Anywho, I was on the way to Target the other day and the song currently spinning in my playlist came on. I loved it from the first chord. I had no idea it was Mika, but since I already love him...
Hope you enjoy. Try not to snap your fingers or tap your foot whilst listening...I dare ya. Oh, and it does drop a teeny, little "h" bomb (hope that doesn't affect our friendship).

Heavy, yet humble heart.

2010-01-16T10:08:00.000-08:00

I saw the saddest thing yesterday.
As you are all aware Haiti was recently shaken by a massive earthquake. Consequently the place is utter chaos; I mean how does one really prepare for a disaster like that?
Nevertheless, with sadness in my heart, I was still able to go about my day and function normally. That was, at least, until yesterday.
Last night as I was lying in bed, I started watching news coverage of all the goings on in Haiti. The destruction was unimaginable. Then the news coverage turned to a physician from the states who was holding a fifteen day old infant He was commenting on the newborns condition whose house had collapsed on her, killing her mother. At that moment my heart was broken. It hadn't really sunken in that people, of ALL ages, were affected by this earthquake...even little babies, too young and innocent to comprehend. And at that moment everthing became real for me.
I'm not sure why it took the image of this precious little child to "wake me up". Perhaps it's because I have a little ones myself and a particular soft spot for any newborn. But, at that moment my heart sunk.
I must admit, shamefully, that up until last night I had been more concerned about Simon Cowell leaving American Idol and the hideous headband Victoria Beckham sported while guest judging on said show.
But now I realize that there are so many things going on around me that I do not give proper notice too.
Granted, there's not much I can do for the survivors in Haiti but offer my prayers, but at least it's something.
And I have found comfort in knowing that I am part of a church that is always prepared to help those in need...even in an event as catastrophic as this. I am grateful to be able to pay my tithing, because I know that in my own meager way I am helping the efforts in Haiti. I wish I could do more, but I am comforted to know that I have done something.
I hope that this post doesn't put a damper on your weekend. That was not my intent. I do hope that it will help everyone (myself included) remember just how fortunate we are and how grateful we should feel for our health, our safety, our lives and our ability to serve others...especially those in need of it most.

Zumba-ha ha

2010-01-04T11:24:00.000-08:00

So, the old man gave me a gym pass for Christmas. Not the most romantic or personal gift...perhaps even insensitive but I accepted it graciously. Truth be told, I am feeling a little like the hippo from Disney's Fantasia, and after today looking like her too...apparently.
Today I went to Zumba. For those of you who are not famililar with the term allow me to explain...it's essentially dirty dancing, but with just yourself...AND I LOVED IT. Just kidding...but really I did. (Imagine lots of rump shakin' and pelvic thrustin'...movements I am not accustomed to using...but I had fun trying.)
I did my reasearch before attending and sorta knew what I was getting myself into and I wasn't too worried. Back in the day I used to dance and felt quite at home on the dance floor. I was an "enigma" to behold. However, that was a long....long, long, long time ago. So, I tried to prep myself as best I could...channeling my inner J-Lo and I felt ready and up for the challenge.
I had a little bit of nerves in the beginning, but that was mostly due to the fact that I was the fattest one in the class. I pretty much knew my moves could trump everyone in the room, except for maybe the instructors and my friend Deni...but that was only a matter of time.
Anywho, the music came on and I could hear the heavy, rythmical, latin beat
and immediately found myself moving. Things were good...I was doing good so far.
Then the instructor hopped up front and start marching DOUBLE TIME to the beat...squashing my confidence with each hellishly quick step she took. I figured I had nothing to lose (except for a few pounds) and threw all caution to the wind and let loose...trying my best to not look like SYTYCD reject. I have to admit that I did a pretty good job keeping up. Better than some of the seasoned Zumba-ers if you ask me. I didn't pass out once and caught on to most of the movements fairly quickly. I was pretty darn proud of myself for being so daring.
And I'll admit, the thought did cross my mind..."man I wish Chad could have seen me shakin' it just now. He'd be so impressed".(I failed to mention that Chad was actually at the gym with me...not in Zumba thank heavens, but working out elsewhere).
The class ended and I was ecstatic and relieved that I didn't collapse in the middle of a bunch of gyrating women...skinny gyrating women as it were. And I left the class feeling saucy and successful.
I met Chad at the car with my newfound attitude...even adding a little hip action when I opened the door. I hopped up on my seat at just looked at him with my sweaty, smouldering eyes. And then he dropped the bomb..."you're not very coordinated are you?"
I wiped the sultry looked on my face and just stared...real, real hard.
What? Did you not just see me sassin' it up on the floor a few minutes ago, I wondered.
"What do you mean", I asked.
"Well, I stopped by your class a few minutes ago and watched you dance" he shared.
I snapped back into reality and realized that what he had said was maybe a little bit true...okay, probably a lot true. I might have looked a little more like the awkward hippo from Fantasia than a steamy back-up dancer from a Shakira video, but it was only the first day.
So to Chad I say...just you wait, buddy. Just you wait. Pretty soon you'll have your own personal "latin luvva" and you will love it.
And I'm gonna start by having me some chips and salsa.

Catch up.

2009-12-11T09:24:00.000-08:00

Okay, first off, SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO sorry about the never ending rotation of the Culture Club. I shall never torture you that way again.
Second, I am a horrible mother and completely spaced posting about number fours third birthday (it was over a month ago). In a nutshell, it was a birthday fit for a three year old. It consisted of balloons, birthday hats and a Star Wars cake (sorry Bud, I'll do better next year, promise).
And now a list of things I've been doing to justify my being such a horrible mother.
Sewing.
Finishing the kitchen cabinets and the backsplash.
Thanksgiving. It was at my house. I made pumpkin soup, green bean casserole, sweet potatoes with brown sugar and pecans and sweet potatoes with pineapple and marshies, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce(Heck No! Not from a can)and herbed infused turkey(which results in the worlds best turkey gravy). It was a pretty great spread with pretty great company. The holiday ended with a quick jaunt to S.G. to visit my side of the fam.
Decorating the tree and the house for the Chrismas festivities.
And finally, crocheting...more to come later.

Curse you, Zhu Zhu.

2009-11-18T08:17:00.000-08:00

Okay, I'm sure most you are aware (at least those of you with small children)of the phenomenon that is Zhu Zhu pets; a darling litte mechanized hamster so real you will hardly know they're fake (except for that they don't poop all over the place, get out of their cage and gnaw through your dad's bowling bag, or make your house smell like the bottom of a garbage can).
They are every parents dream pet. And apparantly every childs too, as they are virtually nowhere to be found, except on ebay and other various auction websites where they are selling for hellishly inflated prices (curse you dirty, little sellers for taking advantage of the general public...and during a recession no less).
And of course, Zhu Zhu's had to find a spot on The Christmas List. Normally I would just pick another item from said list and hope that it's desirability is as great as the next, but in this instance there was a problem; the ONLY other item on said list was a GUINEA PIG...a REAL LIVE one. So, Zhu Zhu pets it was.
And for the last month or so I've been on a quest to find the enigma that is a Zhu Zhu hamster(hear all about them, but never actually seen one). I found Zhu Zhu beds, carrying cases, cities and even a Zhu Zhu car...but no Zhu Zhu hamster.
I was beginning to wonder what I might do with all of the various Zhu Zhu accessories I had purchased in hopes of someday finding the elusive rodent, but was quickly losing faith as the Thanksgiving holiday loomed (I try to have all my Christmas shopping done by Thanksgiving day. Mainly because I have a fear of crowds and belive whole heartedly that the number of holiday shoppers quadruples after Thanksgiving, not to mention the constant threat of the swines. But, enough about my neurocies).
Well today, my search for the "holy hamster" came to a glorious end. This very morning I was tipped off by an awesome friend, who's also on the quest, that Target had recieved a shipment of hamsters and that I needed to drop what I was doing and drive right over.
Immediately my endorphins kicked in and I was overcome with adrenaline. I was zooming around the house gathering the kids backpacks and coats so I could drop them off at school on the way. Fearing that I might not get there in time, I begged Chad to head down ahead of me so that we wouldn't miss out on this possibly once in a lifetime opportunity. He agreed and left me to finish getting the kids into the car. The big kids were a little confused by my sudden frantic behavior but did what they were asked...probably out of fear. I'm imagining they saw me similar to The Hulk, only not green, not muscular and not shirtless.
I grabbed Beckham and threw him in his carseat and hopped into the drivers seat ready to channel my inner Dale Earnhardt.
I dropped the kiddies off and burned rubber out of the the school parking lot.
Hoping that Chad had already arrived at the store I called him for the play by play. I wanted to hear him tell me his every move..."okay I'm entering the store, now I'm turning right, now I'm running down the isle towards the toys, okay I see them...I SEE THEM"...and then loud, victorious screaming. Yeah, only it didn't happen that way. When I called he was still passing Asian Star (a lovely restaurant about a mile away from Target) and I was a little deflated. In an effort to distract myself while at the same time emphasize to Chad the importance of this shopping trip, I explained how difficult these little buggers were to find and that unless he wanted to spend three times what they were actually worth he better hurry up...only I said it super nice.
He finally arrived at Target and went inside. When he got to the toy isle he informed me that there were a bazillion people in line and that he needed to hang up. This triggered an involuntary reflux issue I never realized I had. I "swallowed" my anxiety and continued to drive to Target to serve as Chad's backup.
That's when I heard a faint little voice from behind me asking "where we going mom, where we going mom"? Honestly, I don't know how long that little voice had been questioning me. I had been so preoccupied with loftier issues. I realized then that in addition to not telling Beckham where we were headed in such a hurry I hadn't bothered to say hello either. I removed myself from the craziness for a moment and turned around to see his big blue eyes staring at me...such a little cutie. I told him good morning and asked him how he was doing? He just smiled. Then I turned my attention to the baby...THE BABY!!!
The last I remember of her she was sleeping peacefully in her crib. I reached my arm behind me and felt in her seat...EMPTY. HOLY !#@%, in my haste I totally forgot to get the baby out of her crib. Immediately my excited, adrenaline-infused, nervousness turned to the sick, reluxy/vomity kind. I was ready to reach for my cell to call Chad and tell him that I was turning around to go home...for no reason in particular...that I just didn't think we both needed to be there anymore, when he called me. He told me the he had been able to secure four (and no more) of the little rodents and that he was heading home.
"Great", I replied. "I guess I'll just turn around and head home too" I said as nonchalantly as possible, then I put the petal to the metal and headed for home going mach ten. (Sadly this little lapse in judgement was a total buzz kill for my newfound triumph).
The drive home was the longest five minutes of my life, but thankfully all was well when I got there. Thankfully the house was still standing and Rowan was lying peacefully in her crib...just waiting...like she knew what I'd done.
But because of her it will now surely be a very Merry Christmas. Too bad she cannot understand the magnitude of her sacrifice, but it's probably for the best. Given her genetic heritage (refer to previous post titled Avery Chronicles) it's best not to add abandoment issues to the mix.

Just in case you were wondering...

2009-11-09T14:19:00.000-08:00

the wicked witch of the east is not dead. As a matter of fact she works at Gardner Village, more specifically the Village Christmas Shoppe and in the form of a dark haired waif, sportin' skinny jeans and boots. I think she hid her green skin under lots of foundation.
Anyway, I won't go into gory details, but I was just there and did not have a happy experience. She was rude to me and rude to Beckham. Naturally, I did not defend myself, but instead...in true Ashman form, let the incident fester inside all the way home. By the time I got home I was ready to explode...and did so in the form of an email, which I sent to the shop and Gardner Village management. I may be blacklisted from the establishement for it, but oh, it felt so good. Wanna read it?

I am a huge fan of your shop and make a point of stopping by whenever I can, especially during the holidays. However, my most recent visit left me feeling frustrated and irritated. An employee, or perhaps even manager/owner was flat out unhelpful and even rude to me. Frankly I was shocked by this behavior as I have never been treated this way on any of my prior visits. Perhaps she was just having a bad day. This particular woman seemed too busy to care about helping me find what I was looking for and at one point even took it upon herself to verbally discipline my child; even telling him he'd have to leave if he didn't listen. I found this particularly inappropriate as I was standing right next to him, supervising his every move. I realize that my contacting you will most likely result in nothing, but it was important for me to remind you that anyone who chooses to work in sales/service positions be tactful and friendly and above all should never treat patrons disrespectfully; even if they are having a crappy day. On a happier note, I was able to find the item I was told you did not carry. Sadly, this is most likely my final purchase, at least for now. But, I may still stop by on occasion, just to see if the accused is still mistreating customers.

Mental Update

2009-10-08T22:45:00.000-07:00

Just want everyone to know that I'm okay (and so is Avery). A few of you seemed a little concerned about my mental status and after reading my last post I can see why. How long does the postpartum hormonal rollercoaster last?
Anywho, since my last post I've taken a nice hot bath, drank a 20 ouncer of my favorite diet, caffenated beverage(which shall remain nameless)and and watched So You Think You Can Dance and I.am.feeling.good.
After I had time to gather my wits, I decided to get the little Diva a gift. I found her a necklace with a silver heart and pink rhinestone charm on it for when I picked her up from school. Consider it a peace offering. I thought she might have been in a mood after what I did to her. Again, however I was pleasantly surprised by her chipper demeanor. I presented her the necklace and told her it was for when she got sad or missed me and home. She could look at it and know that I was thinking about her and waiting for her. It seemed to work. She wore the necklace all afternoon until she broke it. Thankfully I was able to fix it...I dare not think what would have happened if I couldn't have.
Now, the million dollar question...will or will not Avery go to school tomorrow? Stay tuned for the dramatic conclusion?!?

Avery chronicles.

2009-10-08T08:36:00.001-07:00

Well, I just got home from dropping the kids off to school and I am a wreck...naturally Chad skipped town just in time to avoid all the drama.
It all began this morning when I had to wake Avery from what appeared to be a very deep slumber. I knew the day was getting off to a rocky start and said a silent little prayer that it wouldn't continue throughout the rest of the day.
(Those of you who have spent any length of time with Avery know that she is, well, a DIVA. She is the moodiest child I've ever had the privelidge of knowing (see I'm so spent, I can't even remember how to spell the word priviledge). There are times I just stare at her and wonder if she is bipolar. One minute she will be telling me I'm the worst and meanest mom on the entire earth and the next she'll she putting her arms around my neck giving me a hug...and that's on a good day).
Don't get me wrong I love the kid, I just know how...unstable she can be at times.
Anyway, I tried rousing her with no success. It took me about five minutes to get her conscious and surprisingly she seemed in a rather pleasant mood...perhaps because I came bearing chocolate milk as a gift. She drank her milk and watched a little T.V. and when I felt the timing was just right I suggested she go and get dressed for school. That's when the SHEESH hit the fan. I swear I saw her eyes turn red and horns sprout out of her cute little skull...the wrath of Avery was upon me. Immediately I went into "hostage negotiator" mode; strategically choosing the things I said so as to diffuse the situation..."what do you FEEL like wearing today?", "tell me what you WANT to wear and I'll go get it for you...your majesty"(I didn't really say that last part, but I thought it).
Listen, I know what you are all thinking...get a backbone lady. How can I, the parent, allow my six year old to have such control over me?
So, I'll try to explain my side as best I can. It isn't that I'm scared of Avery or that she has control of me even...it's not like that. But, almost every morning since school started I have had to listen to Avery tell me that she doesn't have anything to wear, that she never looks as "fancy" (her words) as her friends, that she isn't pretty, that she doesn't like her mouth.
Really, it isn't about clothes at all, that's just how it manifests itself. What it really is, or what I think it is is insecurity; insecurity due to a new situation, a new teacher, and new friends...
So, bearing that in mind, when she melts down at the proposition of getting dressed I know it's just those doubts and anxieties coming out. I have only just put all of this together as recent events have enlightened me. Twice this year already Avery has missed school because she refused to go...to get in the car even. She would just stand the hall and sob. The first time it happened I let her stay home because I didn't know what else to do and I just assumed that it was her trying to adjust to being in school a full day. That was a couple of weeks ago. This week she missed her second day. Again, I let her stay home because she'd been sick over the weekend and I assumed she was still feeling a little "under the weather". That day started out much like today, with her crying about not having anything to wear. That's why, today, I pushed aside everything I'd ever been told about children and not letting them call the shots, and just followed Avery's lead. I wanted to be as supportive as I could be even if meant I become a pushover.
Finally, after twenty minutes of negotiating and suggesting she got dressed...not happily, but she got dressed. She continued to cry that she didn't like what she was wearing while I brushed her hair...and while we gathered backpacks and got into the car...and the entire time we drove to the school.
At this point I began worrying that perhaps she doesn't think I think she's pretty. Maybe I haven't told her often enough how cute and delightful she is. So I made a point of telling her how beautiful I think she is and that it didn't matter what she wore because she would be pretty regardless.
We finally got to the school and I thought that all was well. Carter hopped out of the car and went on his merry way, but Avery just sat there. Then she informed me that she wasn't getting out.
I had tried so hard to avoid this situation and yet there we were anyway. I pulled the car into a parking spot and turned off the engine. I sat there contemplating my next move. I told Avery that we would spend the entire school day in the parking lot if she didn't let me take her into the school. She just sat there. At that point it was ten minutes after the late bell rang and I knew that the office would be calling to find out why she wasn't in class. So, I called them instead and proceeded to tell the secretary that I was sitting in the parking lot and not sure what I should to do. She put me on hold for a minute and came back on to tell me that they were sending out a guidance counselor. When Avery realized what was happening she burried her little face in her arms and cried.
I tried to pull myself together and greeted the TWO STRANGERS as pleasantly as I could. One of them leaned inside the car and asked Avery a series of questions..."what's your name?", "what grade are you in?", "who is your teacher?", all of which I had to answer for her. Somehow, miraculously, she was able to coax Avery out of the car. I gave her a big hug as she cried on my shoulder and reassured her that I would be at home if she needed anything at all. Then they took her hand and left...and I just stood there.
I was immediately overcome with guilt as I watched my little baby leave me, crying, with no one but strangers to console her.
They went into the school and I climbed into the car and lost it.
Now, here I sit, confused and frustrated and wondering what is going on. Why is Avery struggling so much? Have I raised her to be so incapable of handling new situations? Perhaps. Have I neglected to give her the attention she needs and this is her way of demanding it? Likely. Does she have some genetic mental illness? Possibly. Has a teacher or classmate at school said or done something? I hope not. I have asked her if anything has happened at school to cause her to not want to go but she hasn't been able to give me a "valid" reason.
On a happier note, since I've been sitting at the computer spilling my guts, the school has called to tell me that she went to class. And for that I am glad. I just hope that it doesn't happen again...and if it does that I won't have to enlist the services of my front office cronies.
Now, I am off to do some soul searching, some deep contemplation and to take a hot bath...cause I NEED it. Plus, it might come in handy later for when the wrath of Avery is upon me once again this afternoon. Wish me luck.
P.S. I would love an outsiders advice on this matter. My judgement is obviously clouded by a little thing I like to call...emotions. Hmmm, I wonder where Avery gets it from?

My little pumpkin.

2009-10-04T09:56:00.000-07:00

It is no secret that I love Fall and Halloween. And, now that it is officially October I can allow my love for the season to run free and unhindered. So, last night while Chad was at the Priesthood Session of Conference I decided to play dress up with my little doll..er, I mean daughter.
I found the little onesie during the summer sometime...see, Halloween is always on my mind...and the hat I already had. I made the baby legs because, well because there really wasn't anything else she could have worn with the outfit that would have been as cute. Put it all together and whadaya get...

my little pumpkin princess

Yum. I just love fat, little baby legs.

Sew much fun...pun intended.

2009-09-28T20:30:00.000-07:00

Sew (he he) I know that you all must be tiring of my chit chat about sewing and whatnot but you'll just have to bare with me until the phase passes. It is my current fave thing...next to the impending Halloween holiday. Those of you who know me well know how much I love, love, love Halloween. And what could be better than a mash-up of the two things I love most right now...sewing and Halloween. Introducing my newest creations...Halloween inspired dresses for the girlies. They are SEW cute (okay I'll stop with puns now). I heart them so much. And the little "ghouls" are pretty cute too, if I may be so bold. Enjoy.

Quinn

Rowan. I love that she is totally getting into character. "Give me your scariest Halloween face". May I just add that since taking these pics I've added three little black buttons on Rowan's dress and it's like...totally way cuter now.

Okay. Now a cute picture of Rowan.

Avery

And a random picture of a skirt I made.

What I've Been Up To

2009-09-23T11:48:00.000-07:00

Words cannot explain...literally...why I have been unable to post. The fact that my day is mostly consumed by chaffeuring kids to and from all manner of extracurricular activities as well as nursing a ravenous three month old is only part of it.
The bigger issue (and I've complained about this before) is my inability to think straight, or put words/sentences together as it were. The wives tale, or scientific fact that women loose brain cells during pregnancy is true. I am walking proof. What the old wives and scientitst don't say is that once gone, the brain cells do not return...at least not until all the children have up and moved out the house, completed missions/college and started their own families. Even then I cannot say for sure that a post pregnant mind will ever be as sharp as it was pre pregnancy.
That said, I will do my best to write in sentences as complete and grammatically correct as possible. It will be a chore, but I will give'er the old pre-parenthood/pregnancy try.
A few months before Rowan was born...when I was a little bit smarter and saner...I starting sewing. Sidenote: I have been sewing since I was probably ten or eleven when I was in 4H...shut up, cool kids did 4H too. And, I've been sewing off and on since then as the urge arose. However, I started sewing pretty consistently just prior to Rowan's birth...baby gowns, burp cloths, blankets, a diaper bag. I chocked my providence and productivity up to "nesting", but found myself sewing even after the baby was born. I've learned that sewing, among other things, relaxes me while providing me with a creative outlet all at the same time. I haven't been sewing quite as steadfastly as I was pre-Rowan, but I have found time to do a little sewing...which brings me to the point of this post...what I've been up to.
Here are a few pictures of some of the projects I've been working on. Thankfully I am at least able to remember how to thread a needle and push a peddle. I am not totally a lost cause...yet.

These are just a few dresses I've made in the last week. I am going to be selling these at a friends boutique on Saturday.

"Glee"fully happy.

2009-09-09T22:22:00.001-07:00

Okay, this is my new favorite show. Even though I can't sing worth poo, this show makes want to get off the couch and sing at the top of my lungs and dance like there's no tomorrow. To quote the ever wise and omnicient Buddy the Elf "I'm in love and I don't care who knows it". A little sumthin' sumthin' for your viewing pleasure. See if it doesn't make you want to get outch'er seat and jump around.

Ode to a solicitor.

2009-09-09T13:19:00.000-07:00

Dear Solicitor,

I do not like you very much right now. I know, it isn't fair to make that assumption as I do not know you from Adam, but you woke me from my afternoon slumber and that really ticked me off.
I heard you pounding on my door and ringing my bell nonstop, but when I peaked out the window and saw it was you I refused to answer. That is my right. Again, nothing personal, I just didn't want to talk to you. Why? Firstly, because you very rudely roused me from my delicious snooze and secondly, because I did not want to waste five minutes of my time explaining to you why I do not want your services. One word: RECESSION.
Mr. Solicitor, no offense, but I don't want to see you anymore. Call it what you will just don't call on me. Because of you I've had to take matters into my own hands. Do not feel bad when you come back to my house and read the sign I have pasted on my door that reads..."NO SOLICITORS...AT ALL...EVER". You asked for it. You should know better than to mess with a sleep deprived woman.

Sincerely,

Sleepless in Salt Lake City

Ode to a barstool.

2009-09-08T13:12:00.001-07:00

Dear barstool,

Oh how I love thee. I saw you the other day in my Pottery Barn magazine and it was love at first sight. It was an unlikely match as I despise all things bananas, but when I found out you were made from banana leaves it did not matter. Love knows no bounds, no color, no race nor fruit.
But sadly our union cannot be, at least for now. You see, dear stool, you cost a pretty penny and I have none. But fear not, friend with clean lines and meager lumbar support, true love cannot be hindered.
Until then, my love, you shall occupy my thoughts constantly. I shall imagine the way your buttery yellow hue will contrast nicely with the gingery hard wood floors upon which you'll sit; the way your simple and uncomplicated lines will accentuate the island around which you'll float.
My love, though it may not be right now, I WILL find a way for us to be together...and it WILL be beautiful.

Yours truly and forever (or until I find a barstool I like better),
Erika
xoxoxo

Look who joined the family.

2009-09-04T15:34:00.000-07:00

...little alien dude

...and little clown

...don't they look happy in their new home?

Guilty Pleasures

2009-09-02T10:28:00.000-07:00

So, this morning after dropping the kiddies off to school, I sped over to Wally's to return a some items and pick up a few things. As I proceeded to the check out and started unloading my "few necessities" I found myself a little embarrased...might have been the Miley Cyrus CD, uh-hum, I picked up for the children, might have been the two packs of diet Docksta Peppa and diet Docksta Peppa with cherry...none of which were on my list of "things to buy".
Consequently, I forgot the Minute Rice which was on the list.
Anywho, as I stood there waiting, praying the bagger would hurry up so that, heaven forbid, no one I knew got in line behind me, I realized that I have quite a few skeletons in the closet...guilty pleasures as it were.
I have decided to come clean, to lift the burdens that weigh me down and share those things I find blissfully and utterly joyful, that may otherwise be repulsive and/or shameful by others standards. Contain your scoffs and scorns...you know you have 'em too. Here goes.

1- Miley Cyrus (while I may criticize her for dating an underwear model four years her senior...I do enjoy a little GNO and Rockstar here and there. My new fave song...Party in the USA...just try not to dance when you hear it. Which brings me to number two).

2- Dancing around the house. (Though I once considered myself an enigma on the dance floor, I am no longer comfortable sharing my moves with the general public. But that doesn't stop me from dancin' it up in the privacy of my home).

3- Zak Efron ('scuse me whilst I mop up the drool. Oh come on, you know you all have wondered if his dad is as hot as he is).

4- ICarly (This show has made me cry from laughing so hard. It is better than any "grown-up" show on the air currently, methinks. I have even caught Chad watching and laughing).

5- Peter Cetera (That mans voice can stop me dead in my tracks. He is so buttery..."I am a man who will fight for your hona'...I'll be the hero that you're dreamin' off...that's what I'm talkin' about).

6- Popping things (like pimples, boils, clogged tear ducts...my current fave. Hey, don't hate).

7- Soda (and not just the "grown up" kind. I loooooooooves me some root beer and orange and grape flavored carbonation...proabably more than any other drinkable liquid known to mankind).

8- Ramen noodles (proudly I have passed this love on to my children. I know, not very appetizing to those with a refined palate, but as we all know that is not me...refer to number 7. BTW, oriental flavor...it's the only way to go).

9- Chocolate and peanut butter melt (this concoction began as a childhood delicacy which I still love. Recipe: First, melt a boat load of chocolate chips...preferably of the milk chocolate variety in the microwave. Once smooth and liquidy add in a ton of peanut butter. Mix and enjoy by the spoonfuls. Might I add that I have also passed this love on to my kiddies).

10- Backyardigans (Yes, I own the CD and listen to it even if the kids are not in the car. My personal faves: Boinga and Eureka. Again, might I add, that these fictional characters have some of the kick-i-nest dance moves ever. I could add in an eleventh guilty pleasure of "staying up after everyone's in bed so I can learn the Backyardigans moves" but might be a little redundant...refer to number two).

11- People magazine (it is the most reliable source for all things celebrity gossip I'll have you know. Plus, they always throw in a few "legitimate" stories from real life to make you feel like less of a worldly schmuck. Besides, it also serves as a good cover..."I was reading in People the other day...ya, I bought it because it had this amazing story about a child who can't grow... Oh, and it also has a celebrity crossword puzzle at the end...BONUS!).

There are plenty more to go round, but I'll just leave it at that for now. I should probably ease ya'll into the world of Erika.
I would be curious to hear about YOUR guilty pleasures. NO, I am not trying to make myself feel better...okay, maybe I am just a little.

a few IMPORTANT things i forgot

2009-08-30T17:11:00.000-07:00

So, I'm actually hiding out in the toilet as I write this post. As a sidenote, I am not currently in the process of using the toilet, just posing to...it's the only way I can get the kids to leave me be for more than thirty seconds.
That in mind, I best be brief, the kids will surely catch on to my scheme.
The past few weeks have been busy and as such, I have forgotten to pay tribute to some important goings on.
Let me remind you that generally this time of year is where I start having my annual melt down/freak out. Why? Because July just so happens to be the birth month of my eldest two children as well as my anniversary. Essentially a constant reminder of how old I am getting. Surprisingly, there have been no psychotic/neurotic breaks...thus far (must be the meds, or possibly that I've been so busy with a newborn that I haven't had time to think about how old I am getting...but rather how fat I am).
Anywho, back to point of the post. This summer has been a little hectic and I failed to acknowledge a few special events that occured.
First, my darling daughter, Quinn, turned nine on July 25th. We just so happened to be in St. George for the occasion and were able to celebrate with cousins galore. It was a very pleasant treat. We decided to go to the park where there was plenty of space for the plethora of children to run amuck...a great idea until a rare and unexpected Southern Utah thunderstorm decided to pay visit. Sadly, or happily, depending on who you ask, we had to hurry the festivites along, but not before Quinn opened her many wonderful presents and an impromptu two liter soda guzzling race took place. I forget who won, but man was it fun to watch a bunch of big boys chug ridiculous amounts of pop, only to pay the price afterwords...thankfully, no vomitation occured...cause then we would have had an impromptu up-chuck contest. I have a hard watching others heave. The festivites concluded with the mack-daddy of all water fights...thanks Tayona and Max. Guess the water falling from the heavens was not enought. Thankfully, I had a nowborn to shield me from any surprise attacks. No matter, again, it sure was fun watching everyone elses surprised faces as they were struck with water bombs from every direction. All in all, the day was a success.
July 27th was my anniversary...thirteen years of wedded bliss, or blur rather. Chad and I spent the special day getting all hot and sweaty...painting the basement apartment (get your heads outta the gutter). Chad surprised me with dinner and with my most favoritest snack in the world...herbed brie and baugette. My mouth waters just thinking about it.
Finally a list of other noteworthy events that occured, but that I don't want to write about right now: Avery's dance recital(FYI, it was the day after Rowan was born and I checked myself out of the hospital early so I could attend...crazy, I know. Unfortunately, the hospital wouldn't let me check myself back in after the recital was over). Carter's belt promotion (sadly my karate knowledge is still meager and all I know is that his belt is purple). Our family's first trip to Lagoon (Carter hated it, Quinn was indifferent, Avery loved it, Beckham was happy just to pick gum off the sidewalk. Best $150 dollars I ever spent...not).
Here's to a great and fun-filled summer. Though I look forward to the structure and free babysitting the school year offers, I am a little sad to see my kiddies go. It was fun staying up late and getting up even later.

Families are Forever...deep breaths.

2009-07-21T12:52:00.001-07:00

This past Saturday the kiddies had the priviledge of walking in the Days of 47 Children's Parade. From what I understand this is a unique opportunity and the dearies will most likely never walk it again, at least not as a primary child.
Being the "awesome" parents we are, Chad and I decided to make a big deal of it and get a hotel downtown (really we just knew we would never make on time, and figured our odds were better if we were only two blocks away...but we don't need to tell the kids that).
We spent the eve of the parade swimming in the hotel pool and taking the kids to Trolley Square for dinner. It was good times. There were no near deaths or mishaps at the swimming pool and the kids actually sat(I use the term loosely) and ate at dinner. It almost felt like we were on vacation.
After dinner we did a little window shopping, while Beckham tried to steal something from every store we visited. In an attempt to avoid being arrested for shoplifting we decided to leave Trolley and go back to the hotel to let the kids swim a little longer before bed. We also hoped this little plan might wear the children out.
This ploy worked for the older three, but immediately backfired. In the process of wearing out the children, Chad and I had also worn ourselves out. Consequently, physical exertion seemed to have the opposing affect on number four. As a weary Chad and I lay in bed a newly invigorated number four came charging into our room. Chad and I are still baffled by what may have caused Beckham's spastic surge of energy...it is the eighth world wonder to me.
Eventually the kid fell asleep, but 7:30 came quickly and we were all quite groggy and grumpy...not the way I wanted to start our "special" day.
We made it to our wards gathering spot LATE of course, despite our best efforts, and proceeded to wait another forty-five minutes until it was our turn.
Some things I learned about the children in that time: One, the kids are not unlike gremlins in that they do not like sunlight...at least not when they have to sit in it for forty-five minutes with nothing to do. Two, the kids, unlike gremlins, SHOULD be fed after midnight and in our attempt to make it "on time" completely forgot to feed everyone breakfast. Three, I am glad that water does not multiply children as it does gremlins...refer to number two.
Finally it was our turn to strut our stuff. One thing Chad and I did remember to do was bring the wagon and a ginormous cooler full of water...both of which saved our bacon.
As a sidenote, our float was an amazing replica of the new Draper temple which was floating in the clouds. The temple was hooked up to hydraulics which allowed it to rise above the clouds and lower back down again. On top of the temple was attached a bunch of balloons, two hundred to be exact, which went along with the floats theme that "Temples will take you UP where you belong".
As I said, it was finally our turn to take to the parade route. The kids' dispositions seemed to improve slightly at this notion, but were still in need of improvement. The six blocks we walked seemed like six hundred in the blazing heat and I couldn't help note the irony of the situation. Here I was with Chad and all of the dearies, marching to the tune of Families can be Together Forever, with the temple right in front of me...sort of. Meanwhile Quinn is throwing a major tantrum in the wagon, the baby is screaming in the stroller and Beckham is throwing his balloon, for the hundredth time, on the hellishly hot street in attempt to pop it. I am sorry to admit it(but you know I will anyway), but at that particularly sweltering moment in time the notion of "forever" made me...umm...a little anxious, to put it nicely.
Thankfully by the time the cameras were on us the kids were so stroked out by the heat that they were over their gremlin phase and happy to smile for the TV.
The children were happy to find at the end of the route and after much effort of being pulled in the wagon, all of the festivities awaiting them: bouncy slides, a firetruck spraying refreshingly cool water, popcicles, FOOD...
It was a wonderful end to the day, except for the part where we lost Quinn. And after receiving some sustenance and hydration the kids seemed happy and grateful for all that had happened. I think Chad and I were too, but we are not in any hurry to do it again anytime soon.
And just for the record, I do "want to be with my whole family" forever, even if they do drive me nuts sometimes.

Hmmm. We actually look fairly pleasant in this picture.

Happy Birthday...First Fruit of My Loins.

2009-07-12T20:49:00.000-07:00

Then: 6 lbs. 15 oz., 19 1/2 in.

Now: 65 lbs., 4 1/2 ft.

Well, in approximately one hour and twelve minutes my first born will be eleven years old.
I can still remember the day Carter was born. It was a Sunday. Chad and I were living in student housing at the U. That morning we went downtown to attend a session of Music and the Spoken Word. Then we went to church and spent the remainder of the afternoon just hanging out. I had been having contractions for most of the weekend, but because it was my first, I guess I didn't realize what was really happening. By that evening I was ready to head off to the hospital. I was at a five when I got there at 7:30 and had the little darling at 11:02. I remeber thinking that Carter looked liked a miniature version of Chad. He was such cute little peanut...bald as cue ball, naturally.
Now here I sit, nearly eleven years later, wondering where all the time went. Sure, I have hundreds of memories from the past eleven years with Carter...his first tooth, potty training, his super hero phase, shoving a rubber ball up his nose, cracking his sister's head open (it was on accident...sort-of), first day of Kindi-garten, his baptism etc. But still, where did the time go.
I've said it before and I'll say again...I wish I could have savored the time a little more...enjoyed the ride. I wish I would have spent more time watching and listening rather than speaking. I wish I would have spent more time cuddling rather than cleaning. I wish...
I realize that life must go on and my babies can't stay babies forever, but that doesn't make watching them grow older any easier.
All I can do is enjoy life in the moment and when I do feel the urge to speak, or clean, maybe I'll just cuddle my big, eleven year old boy instead.
Carter boy, I love you so mucho. Thank you for being such a good son and brother. And Happy Birthday.

Update

2009-07-02T09:02:00.000-07:00

So, it's been two weeks since the little peanut arrived...an interesting two weeks. I know that in ten or twenty years I'll look back on this time with fondness, but seriously, if I have to remind one more child to "sit down" or "be gentle" or "stop poking the babies eyes" I might have to check myself into the looney bin.
The following conversation/dialogue took place last night. Mind you the following conversation takes place every time Beckham holds the little dear.

Beckham: I wanna hold the baby. I wanna hold the baby. I wanna hold the baby...
Mom: OKAY BECKHAM! Can you be gentle?
Beckham: I gentle.
Mom: Beckham, BECKHAM! No touching the babies eyes.
Mom: Beckham, BECKHAM! Stop pinching the babies ears.
Mom: Beckham, BECKHAM! No hitting the baby on the head.
Mom: Beckham, BECKHAM! No clawing the baby's face.
Mom: Beckham, BECKHAM, BECKHAM! STOP SHAKING THE BABY. YOU'RE GONNA GIVE HER BRAIN DAMAGE. Okay, buster, you're done.
Beckham: I gentle, sob sob, I gentle, sob sob, I gentle, sob sob...

And just FYI, while I have been sitting here posting I have had to remind mother's two and three to, "stop fighting when you're holding the baby", "sit down", "two hands", "support her back", "do not try and color while holding the baby"...

In closing, I feel it necessary to assure all my family, especially Chad, that my mental state although noticeably irritable, is in fact stable.
But, if you happen to catch a white mini-van on the news pulling an O.J. you'll know who it is and what exactly she's running from.

Name of the Day.

2009-06-21T15:38:00.000-07:00

So, I think we may have a winner. I would like to officially introduce Rowan Noreen Brendle. Rowan which means little red one (fitting because of her "bounteous" strawberry blonde hair) and Noreen (after my grandma Ashman who turned one hundred on the tenth of this month).
Try not to get too attached, it could be something different tomorrow.

Grandma Noreen with several of her great grandkids.

Father's Day.

2009-06-21T12:31:00.000-07:00

Here's to a very happy Father's Day to the two most important father's in my life.
My Dad.

Lover of all things golf and music; connisseur of olives, bologna and other questionable lunchmeats; documentary watcher, dictionary reader, master joke teller.

And my Hubby.

Lover of all things golf and Halo; connisseur of Barbacoa, ice cream and other unhealthy delicacies; hater of Home Depot, Lowe's and all things home improvement.

Dad and Chad. Happy Father's Day. I love you both.

...and we're done?

2009-06-19T09:30:00.000-07:00

I am happy and relieved to report that baby number five has made her grand debut. I know you are all just dying to hear the gory details so I will oblige.
Seriously, if you are not into birth stories you can bypass this post. Mind you, my blog oft times serves as my journal and this is one of those times. Bare with me.
So, Tuesday morning I had my thirty-nine week doctors appointment. I talked Chad into going with me so that we could discuss the option of induction (my doctor had proposed this if I got to thirty-nine weeks and there was still no baby).
The doctor did all the regular things checked the heartbeat and checked for progress. I was three centimeters dilated and eighty percent effaced. She asked us if we were interested in being induced which at the time I was unsure of...having never been induced before. She sensed my hesitation and pointed out that my uterus had not grown the previous two weeks and that if we decided against the induction she would send me in for an ultrasound within the next few days just to make sure things were okay. Chad and decided to go ahead and shedule the induction (for June 18). We figured if the baby was in fact not growing it would be best to just get her born. Our doctor agreed.
Just before we got up to leave the doctor asked how the baby had been moving. This was the turning point of the day.
I mentioned that I couldn't recall any movement yet that morning, but figured it was because I had been racing around nonstop so I could make it to my 9:30 appointment on time. She suggested that I go have a stress test done just to be safe.
I dragged Chad and Beckham (who had somehow weaseled his way along) downstairs for the stress test and during that time learned that my amniotic fluid (normally between 8 and 22 centimeters) was low...between 3-4 centimeters. The nurse finished the test and suggested I head down to labor and delivery. I got myself registered and settled in a room and waited to hear back from my OB as to whether or not she wanted to just go ahead and induce right then..which she did.
By this time it was around 11 or 11:30. The nurse gave me my IV and Chad ran home to drop Beckham off and grab the suitcase and camera(s). At this point of my long-winded story I must give props to my shiz-a-listic sister and her shiz-a-listic family who took all four dears without any advanced warning. Kay, back to my rivoting narration.
Chad got back to the hospital around 12:30 and the nurse was just hooking me up to my pitocin drip. I started having regular contractions almost immediately and by 3:00ish was already five centimeters dilated and ready for my epidural...the most blessed juice on earth I might add. The OB came in around 4:00 to break my water at which time I found out that I was complete and ready to push. I had one contraction and out baby came. Honestly, after having a nearly nine pound baby she probably coulda just walked out on her own, but...
She looked like such a little peanut, but was 7 lbs. and 14 oz.; 19 inches long and sporting a little bit of strawberry blonde hair...which I eagerly welcomed. Granted it's all in the back...a newborn mullet if you will, but I'll take whatever I can get. We Brendle/Ashman's come from a very long line of baldies. Besides, it's nothing a massive flower headband can't cover up.
The peanut stuggled a little in the beginning to breathe, but everything turned out just fine. She was so quiet and beautiful and Chad and I are completely in love. The kids are too though they have a very "rough" way of showing it. Things will be interesting with "three" moms in the house.
The dear has yet to be named, but to have named her before leaving the hospital would just not be the Brendle way. Hopefully she'll have a proper name by Tuesday...that's when the paperwork is due.
I'd like to conclude by saying thank you to everyone who called, texted, emailed, facebooked, and/or left messages. We are lucky and blessed to have family and friends like you. Too bad I'll be hittin' you all up for babysitting soon.

See a little bit of hair. I wasn't lying.

Chad swears Mick Jagger's the dad.

Out of the mouth of ...Beckham.

2009-06-14T14:07:00.001-07:00

Well, once again my little guy has demonstrated his infatuation with "nipples". Last night whilst sitting on the couch with the entire family, the little guy burst out into a rousing rendition of "bi-nipples, bi-nipples, I like to ride my bi-nipples", sung to the tune of Queens, Bicycle. (Sounds like he's following in the footsteps of a certain older brother who at one time took the artistic liberty of changing the lyrics to another well-known song). Heaven help me.
On the bright side, it was said in the privacy of the home and not during the reverence of the sacrament or around any prominent religious figure.
On the not so bright side, his unhealty preoccupation with nip-lage will most likely be exacerbated by the fact that in a few days I will be nursing a newborn nonstop(hopefully).
Thank goodness for the "nippy hider" or breast feeding cover up I purchased. Methinks it a very good purchase...considering.

T.M.I.?!?

2009-05-28T16:55:00.000-07:00

Against my husbands wishes, I am about to share some information...perhaps a little too much, but we're all adults here.
One centimeter and twenty percent. I'll leave it at that.
Now hear my plea. I am a fat, hot(and not in the sassy sense) pregnant lady and I'm in need of your suggestions. However, don't share unless it has actually worked...I can't handle the disappointment.
As I said, I am fat...no really, not just pregnant...I'm fat. My doctor assured me that I was not carrying a ten pound baby as I thought, but that, in fact, I was measuring on the smaller side if anything. Great!!! So the five pounds I put on in the last two weeks is not baby growth, but more likely buttock cellulite.
Due to my girthy state, I am finding myself all sorts of hot. It doesn't help that it's getting warmer everyday and we don't have A/C.
Anywho, back to my plea. What can I do to get this baby out of my bellee? I need your tried and true suggestions. I will forever be grateful to you...and so will my family.

Yours truly,

The fat lady (who is too freakin' hot to sing right now)

Mouscapades: Update

2009-05-27T09:40:00.000-07:00

Our demon cat caught another mouse last night and brought it home. Actually, I'm not sure where she caught the mouse this time...she could have brought it home from the field, worse yet, she could have caught it in the garage, or heaved forbid the house. Either way, looks like I have two carcasses to look forward to finding now.
'Scuse me whilst I have a panic attack.

Inturder Alert: Mousecapades Part Deux

2009-05-19T16:09:00.000-07:00

My sancturary has been infiltrated yet again. This time however, it was an act of treason. Yes, one of our own has betrayed us. I knew that cat was pure evil from the moment I laid eyes on her.
During the night our kitty went off galavanting around the fields and came home with a VERY UNWANTED visitor.
Chad and I were resting in our room with the balcony door open...something that goes against all my principles for the exact reason of which I am about to share.
Sometime during the evenig the traitor came in through the open door, though I don't recall when as both Chad and I had dozed off.
Later that night Chad woke up to shut the door at which time both he and I were startled by the sound of our normally lazy cat, scurrying about the house like a kitty on crack.
Chad offered to go see what she was up to and I happily accepted his offer. What ensued was the sound of hissing, not by the cat but rather by Chad, and some stomping and jumping about, again not by the cat.
Eventually, I heard the garage door open and slam shut and Chad climb back into bed. When I inquired about the raucous I'd heard he ignored me and feigned sleep. That's how I knew something was up. I asked again and he delicately broke the news that our devil cat had brought a mouse into the house...but it was dead...he added, as if that might make me feel any better.
I dry heaved, then rolled over and tried to go back to sleep.
In my drousy condition I forgot to ask Chad how he had disposed of the wretched pest. But this morning when I remembered he said he put it out in the garage with the cat...okay wait, hold the freakin' phone. Did he just tell me that he didn't get rid of the mouse.
Needless to say, I was not happy about this news. And before leaving for work I made the buster do a thorough sweep of the garage, and emore importantly of my car.
There was no mouse to be found.
Now, I am forced to wonder...did my traitor cat eat Mickey, or did she hide it somewhere out in the mounds and masses of boxes that clutter my garage? I guess we'll never know...at least not until Chad or I goes to move/open one of our boxes and finds the decayed carcus staring right back at us. Or perhaps, the potent, stench of death might be the clue we need to determine the fate of our mousy friend.
What if I'm driving and take a sharp turn only to spot the dead mouse torpedoing towards my head. Worse yet, what if Satan, I mean Salem, did in fact hide the mouse in the car and we don't realize it until the dead of summer and I go to get in and am overcome with the stanky, rancid stench of post-mordem rodent...a new car is what that means...looking at the bright side of things.
Regardless, my mind will continue to play out all the scenarios until some sort of remains are found...not that I am looking forward to it...but for my mental well-being.
And I can assure you, when...if, the time does come you know you'll all be the first to hear about it.

Deflated.

2009-05-12T06:42:00.000-07:00

So, I got a new mixer for Mother's Day and in my efforts to be more provident and frugal I thought I should start making homemeade bread.
It was pretty much a disaster.
My first batch of dough turned out dry so I chucked it in the garbage...which I was promptly scolded for by my daughter-mother (not very provident of me I guess).
So, I gave'er another go and the dough appeared significantly moister (ugh, I hate that word)...not as dry as the first batch.
I followed all the directions...put it in a warm place to rise, check; punch it down and split the dough into two loaves and let rise again, check; bake at 300 degrees for 30 minutes, check.
Here's the part where I should be posting pictures of the perfectly formed, golden loaves...problem is, my loaves turned out neither perfectly formed or golden brown...more like shriveled, white mounds of...poo.
Frankly, I am too embarrassed to post pics of the catastrophe, so I'll just let you all imagine the sorry excuse for bread in your own minds.
Now, because I like to think that I am a fairly competent person...capapble of following directions...I will chock this little incident up to, uh-hum, a faulty recipe.
My plea now, bloggy peeps, is for a good, tried and true, super yeasty (sometimes this word grosses me out, but not when referring to bread) bread recipe.
So please, if you have a recipe you don't mind sharing, I will be forever grateful...and so will my family.

To worship or not to worship: that is the question. Otherwise called Sunday Shenanigans: Part ?.

2009-05-10T14:13:00.000-07:00

So, today was a particularly trying day at church. In between quiet scoldings and "try that again, and I'll..." glances I found myself questioning the importance of church attendance. And, like any logical person trying to answer a difficult query I made a pros and cons list. Here it is:

Pros of attending church:

1- Spiritual upliftment and edification (okay, not always, but I'll take whatever bits and pieces I can get).

2- Getting to meet and know members of the still new ward.

3- Listening to my sweeties sing (applies to Mother's Day, Father's Day and program day only).

4- Having the sweeties teachers come up to me and tell me how smart they are.

5- Teaching the dearies that going to church is just what we do on Sunday.

Cons of attending church:

1- Having to listen to my two year old yell "nipples, nipples" during the passing of the sacrament. (Don't ask me where he learned this...cause I don't know).

2- Trying to get my two year old to stop crooning the Imperial March at the top of his lungs during the sacrament.

3- Trying to explain to a two year that I am, in fact, his brother and sister's mother as well as his (today this was a particularly touchy subject...again, I have know idea where this came from).

4- Trying to coax at least three of the four children to please go to class.

5- Sitting out in the hall with at least one or two children who ignored their mother's plea to please go to class.

6- Sitting in the hallway with an over-tired two year old who keeps screaming "I don't want to go to stupid nursery".

7- Reminding every. one. of. my. children. to. please. be. reverant.

8- Realizing that in a month and a half I will have another child to attend to at church...anyone have a valium?

Normally, when the cons far outweigh the pros a decision would be easy. But this situation is obviously different, as I can't just stop going to church because my list tells me to. Therefore, I will heed the counsel I've been taught, ironically from attending church, that is "a person will not be tried more than they can handle". And I will remember this counsel next week when I am tempted to walk out during the sacrament with a "nipple screaming", "Imperial March singing" two year old in tow. Wish me luck.

Sanctuary

2009-05-09T17:21:00.000-07:00

So, I know it's been awhile, but I haven't had a lot to report...I still don't, but for the sake of posterity I thought I should record my first ever facial experience.
Even though it isn't technically Mother's Day yet, my dear hubb-a-lub surprised me with a facial today (how to take that gesture?...what are you saying dear hubby? That my face looks less than glowing in my current state? Nah, you you were just being thoughtful, though I do look less than glowing...a more appropriate adjective might be blimpy, chunky and/or FAT).
No matter, I was more than happy to accept the gift, for I knew that it meant at least an hours worth of peace and quiet and pampering.
I was a little leary, as I wasn't sure what to expect, but again it was an hour of time to myself, so I set aside my concerns and embraced the new frontier that was the facial.
I got to the spa and was led to a changing room where I was asked to don a robe and orthapedic slippers. I was then led to a dimly lit room with big, over stuffed couches where I waited (frankly, the experience could have stopped there and I would have been happy...non restrictive attire, self-massaging footwear and silence).
Anywho, I sat there enjoying the soothing atomosphere and was promptly greeted by "my lady". She proceeded to place my feet in a bucket full of hot water where she scrubbed...and scrubbed and massaged and rubbed and...oops sorry, lost my train of thought for a moment...she attended to my neglected (and unreachable) tootsies.
I was then led to yet another, even more, dimly lit room where upon I was asked to disrobe (PARDON? the room was dark but not THAT dark). I was then told that after disrobing I could climb upon the "throne of utter delight" and get all cozy underneath the covers. "My lady" then excused herself so that I might enjoy some privacy (THANK GOODNESS!...I did not want to be responsible for traumatizing my cute, young "lady" with my beached whale look). I must say, initially the notion of lying partially nude whilst a complete stranged rubbed my face and upper body was a little uncomfortable...I quickly got over it.
I heaved my over-sized body onto the "throne" (not an easy task I might add) and quickly covered myself so as not to get caught in any compromising positions. My "lady" shortly returned and began my pampering by breaking out scented oils which she massaged all over my face, neck and upper body. Sadly, I could not enjoy the aromatherapy as my sense of smell disappears the moment I lie down on my back...so instead I just imagined it smelled like my current favorite scent...kung pau chicken.
By this time, my mind had gone completely blank...well almost, the only thought I had at that point was whether or not I was sportin' unsightly nose boogies...thankfully, the room was very dimly lit thus making the sight of any stragglers quite unnoticeable...at least I hoped anyway.
I turned my attention to the sound of twanging Chinese folk music softly playing in the background and imagined myself eating a delicious, crispy spring roll (with a side of sweet and sour sauce, of course)and quickly found myself dozing.
What seemed like only moments later I heard the dreaded words, "okay, you're all done" and knew my retreat had met it's end.
My "lady" left so that I could re-robe and waited for me outside the door. Hesitantly, I heaved my ginormous self off the hallowed throne and dressed. I took a moment to savour the sight...and finally the smell (cause I was now upright) of the room which had temporarily served as my personal sanctuary and readied myself for real life.
I returned to the dressing room and exchanged the comfy, roomy robe for my restrictive, street clothes and headed towards the light...don't worry, I wasn't dying, although I could have and been very happy. I headed towards the light...of the outside world, feeling relaxed, refreshed, and re-energized.
Even though my dear hubby doesn't read my blog I feel it necessary to publicly thank him for a wonderful day. He could tell that I needed a moment of peace and pampering...it was apparently written all over my dry and neglected face.
So, dear hubby, thank you, thank you, thank you for recognizing a weary and withered woman when you see one. I had a wonderfully blissful day.

Please Don't Report Me

2009-03-30T20:09:00.000-07:00

Okay, so this is my attempt to persuade you all to forget about turning me in for mental/emotional abuse.
I know that some of the things I say sound harsh...and at times, downright appalling. But allow me to explain myself. Surely you will see my point.
My kids know me well enough to know that I would never drop them off at a gas station in a strage, unfamiliar, podunk town and just leave them there. I might drop them off and drive a few hundred feet, but I would eventually stop and let the hysterical child back in the vehicle. They know this...I've done it before.
And the whole adoption thing...come on, I wouldn't really ever adopt them out. Certainly they know this...I haven't done it yet. Besides they are all finally getting old enough to work...and let's face it, I need all the manual help I can get.
As for the whole peeing thing. You gotta understand, it was said out of safety really...for the whole family. As the only adult on this particular trip, I was not comfortable pulling the car off to the side of the freeway and accompanying a bladder saturated child outside whilst he/she relieved him/herself. Surely one of the unattended dears would hop out the opposite door and try to run across the freeway, only to end up like the mangled skunk we'd passed five miles previous. And how would I explain that one to the old man? So, "just pee your pants", you see, is not me being mean or irritated...rather, it is me being a good mom.
So there you have it. Now, I'm sure you totally understand. My kids are fine...they will be fine. They totally get me. So, will you please, please, please forget about reporting me. It's all good.

More Things I Never Thought I'd say As A Parent.

2009-03-29T00:41:00.000-07:00

Okay, just a few more things I heard come out of my mouth in recent days. Mind you, most of these things came out whilst driving with the kiddies to and from St. George...ALONE! That should be justification enough, right?

1- Are you familiar with the term adoption?

2- The next kid to make a peep gets dropped off in Scipio. (FYI, my father's family hails from this sleepy town. I'm sure the little dear(s) would have run into a relative sooner or later).

3- We are never taking another trip...EVER!

4- Just pee your pants.

Baby Update

2009-03-03T10:57:00.001-08:00

About a month ago at my 20 week ultrasound the doctor saw something that he deemed slightly abnormal. He said that he thought that the babe's cardiac arteries appeared enlarged. Not much more was said as Chad and I weren't prepared for those results and didn't really have any questions.
We scheduled an appointment with a pediatric cardiologist at PCMC and spent the next four weeks wondering whether or not to be worried. I must admit that deep down both Chad and I felt like everything was okay, but still there was always a little bit of doubt and concern in the back of our minds.
Today was our appointment...our fetal echocardiogram. The ultrasound tech spent a good hour or so scanning the heart and taking billions of pictures...all of which looked like black and white blobs to me. After she finished we waited for the doctor to come in and give us the results. Another tense five minutes.
Finally, the doctor knocked on the door, and at first glance appeared happy and relaxed...a good sign. Turns out my intuition was right. He informed us that the ultrasound did not show anything abnormal and that everything looked just fine.
Funny how you don't know how worried you are until you find out that you have nothing to be worried about.
Chad and I were relieved.
Turns out that the pictures were so good that the doctor asked if he could use them for a reasearch project he was working on. So...my babies heart is, like, totally gonna be famous. In my proud state, I forgot to ask if using pics of my beautiful fetus meant our appointment was free.
The research project is for the development of software that will allow OB's to enter information collected from an ultrasound into a computer, which would then be able to evaluate it to decide whether or not the findings are, in fact, abnomal.
Pretty cool if you ask me.
I am so relieved that we were blessed with happy news. For a few weeks there, I did find myself wondering what life would be like with a sick baby. I realize that there are people out there who, sadly, aren't as lucky as we are to get such news. This thought was reinforced by the sight of all the little babies and children I saw wearing masks and being pulled around in wagons while waiting to see the doctor.
Not to be pushy, but be thankful for your health and your children's. Life and health are so fragile.

Things I never thought I'd say as a parent.

2009-02-23T13:04:00.000-08:00

I think we have all had those moments where we've stopped dead in our tracks and thought...did I just say that?
Funny, how as parents, we find oursevles saying things our parents used to say to us, that we swore we'd never say.
Funny, how we say things we should probably never ever say...or maybe that's just me.

Here's a top ten list of things I've said (quietly or aloud) that I never thought I'd say.

1- Do you need medication (something I recall my mom asking me)?

2- Keep it up and your sleeping in the garage (something I recall my dad saying).

3- If you want anymore brothers and sisters you better shape up (kinda mean, but it really gets 'em thinking, ya know).

4- Try that again and my hands gonna be talking to your heinie.

5- WE DO NOT PLAY IN OUR POO!

6- Your breath smells like poo...no really, poo.

7- Where were you raised...a freakin' barn?

8- Quit brushing your privates with that.

9- Quit playing with your privates...you're gonna break it.

10- Do that again and I'll staple your buns shut.

Nuturally there are plenty more to share, but that's for another post. Just curious, what are some crazy things you've said to your kids?

Pregnant Rant: Read At Your Own Risk

2009-02-23T10:19:00.000-08:00

Recently, it has been brought to my attention that I have..."easy pregnancies". An observation made not by my husband, surprisingly, but from several other woman.
Consequently, these numerous statements have given me a bit of a complex. Why is it that people automatically assume that just because I am going on number five, that my pregnancies are a breeze?
As a result, these recent observations have compelled me to share my pregnancy resume, as it were, ya know just to prove that I am qualified to be the parent of my babies and that I did, in fact, put in the effort and suffered enough to claim that title.

Erika Brendle
Pregnancy Resume 2009

POSITION: Parent

PURPOSE:
To prove that I have suffered sufficiently through my numerous pregnancies and show others that it is not necessary to point out what they percieve to be an "easy pregnancy".

QUALIFICATIONS:
24/7 nausea lasting as long as six months, early trimester bleeding, lethargy, fatigue, occasional vomiting, dry heavies, headaches lasting most of the pregnancy, shakes due to low blood sugar, excessive swelling in hands and feet, dizziness, insomnia, perpetual nasal congestion, sciatica, numerous bladder/UT infections and yeast infections.

HIGHLIGHTS:
*Vomiting whilst working- 1998
*Threatened miscarriage- 2000.
*Borderline premature birth- 2000.
*Kidney Stones- 2006
*Toxemia- 2006
*20 lbs. of extra water retention due to HBP- 2006
*Miscarriage- 2008
*Moderated bed rest- 2000 and 2006
*Fetus with a possible heart defect- current

MISC. ABILITIES WORTH NOTING:
*Driving carpool whilst heaving and not even crashing.
*Preparing dinner/handling meat without getting sick.
*Successfully getting three kids off to school on time when I would have much
rather been sleeping.
*Changing numerous poopy diapers without puking.

Thank you for reviewing my resume. Your time and CONSIDERATION is much appreciated.

Please note that while there is an element of truth to this post, it was indeed, meant to be humorous and satirical. I hope no feelings were hurt by my words, and if so, I'm sorry...sort of.

Blessed Sabbath

2009-02-15T14:48:00.000-08:00

Today is a blessed day; not only because it is the sabbath, but because I found my camera cord...HALLELULAH.
I knew if I held out long enough it would turn up eventually.
It is a sabbath day miracle.
And for those of you who keep asking, yes, I will get pictures of the house up ASAP.

Top 25 Reasons Why You Are My Valentine.

2009-02-12T13:51:00.000-08:00

1- You bring me cupcakes...just because.
2- You love Norman Gentle too.
3- You agree that Jude Law and Dave Beckham are two of the most beautiful men to ever walk the earth.
4- You bring me home Barbacoa when you stop for lunch.
5- You bring me home cream soda when you run out to the store.
6- You like spending time with me and the kids.
7- I can't sleep when you are out of town.
8- You support my preoccupation with food...in my current condition.
9- You take me out for steak and loaded sweet potatoes.
10- You thank me for making dinner...most of the time.
11- You rub my belly and talk to our fetus.
12- You play light sabres with the boys.
13- You tell our daughters they are beautiful.
14- You tell me I'm beautiful.
15- You eat my food even when it's not the most appetizing.
16- You help the kids with their homework.
17- You let me blog...even though it bugs you...a lot.
18- You are friendly to everyone.
19- You make the kids burritos when I don't feel like cooking.
20- You tell me when my hair looks terrible in the back.
21- You read stories to Avery.
22- You take Carter to karate and guitar.
23- You pick up Quinn's medicine
24- You sit with Beckham when he won't go to nursery.
25- You are my best friend.

Passing Gas.

2009-02-09T15:32:00.000-08:00

Before you read what I have to say, allow me to explain where it all stemmed from. Today I observed the following situation take place.
Quinn and Avery were about to get into the tub, but prior to doing so Quinn "passed" a little somethin' somethin'. What followed was the scene of the two of them laughing hysterically about the whole thing.
That gots me to thinking...

What I have to say is of no great importance, in fact, if I had any class I wouldn't even be bringing up the topic. But, inquiring minds want to know.
What makes passing gas so funny?
Not so much funny to me (although I have been caught off guard by the occasional squeaker and broken a smile, I must admit) but rather to my little dears (even my innocent two year gets in on "the act". In fact I have witnessed the little dear entertain himself by "forcing" a toot, then laugh about it, only to reapeat the processs over and over again).
Seriously, what is it? Is it the honking sound that's produced? Could it have something to do with the body part from whence the honk originated? Surely it is not the odor.
Nevertheless, nothing seems to trigger a bigger smile or deeper laugh out of my little ones than production of an air biscuit.
What's more, it doesn't necessarily have to be the actutal creation of a ripper-rooni. For example songs about the deed..."beans beans the magical fruit"...and the ever popualar arm fart get almost as big a reaction as the real deal.
I cannot understand it. Truly it really is not that funny and yet we have all found ourselves giggling about it at one time or another.
Apparently my small mind will never be able to explain this phenomenon. IT IS the eighth world wonder to me.

House Update.

2009-02-06T16:33:00.001-08:00

Don't get too excited...I still haven't found my cord. Sorry, Britt...please be my friend still.
Nevertheless, I do have house news. Where do I begin?
As spring and warmer weather approach, I am in full panic mode. Why, you may wonder? I'll tell you.
In recent weeks it has been brought to my attention that living on a big empty field oft times results in unwanted visitors...by visitors I mean rodents and creepy crawlies. To my disappointment this fact came to fruition sooner than I'd hoped...actually, I was hoping in would never happen, but...
A few weeks ago whilst giving some friends the very grand tour of our unfinished basement, one of these said rodents made a very shocking and surprising appearance. Naturally, I hi-tailed my heinie upstairs and swore never to go down again. I called the pest people and they were nice to come out right away to set traps. The kiddies were enlisted as the resident trap checkers. And to their morbid delight were pleased to find a very dead mouse in one of the traps the following day.
None of the other traps were ever set off, and I thought I we had nipped the pesty issue in the bud...not so.
Two days ago as I was following my morning routine of making the dears a very filling, and balanced meal of Carnation Instant Breakfast, I noticed a small black speck in the bottom of the drawer. I shewed it off initially...chocking it up to a stray peppercorn or oreo crumb.
But as I watched the dearies slurp down their breakfast, I began to worry that with every gulp they were filling their little bodies with liquid Hanta. I immediately ripped the sippies from their hands and threw them in the sink.
Upon closer investigation, I realized that what I had seen was not an awol peppercorn or runaway Oreo crumb, but was in fact a bonified mouse turd. I realized too, that it was not only the sippy drawer that had been tainted but also the drawers that housed all of my cooking utensils, knives, baggies, plastic wrap and pot holders. I was thoroughly disgusted and frankly, felt quite violated. How long had we been using these tainted items?
I cleaned out all of the drawers; sterilized them and all their contents and then called the pest people again.
They came out and upon some investigation, found some surprising things. They discovered a hole in the foundation, which served as a throughfare from the outside into my sanctuary. They also found several openings in the back of the cabinetry which served as the entrance to the our virtual rodent buffet.
They set more traps and advised that we "fill those holes"...thanks.
Chad went to the hardward store and purchased some steel wool and the other necessities he needed to do the job.
The following day, Chad left for Palm Springs. He informed me on the way out the door that he had left one hole open so as to lure the offending critter(s) into our strategically placed "death traps". His reasoning: that he didn't want any of them running off dying in the walls...gross. Thanks a million honey.
Needless to say, I was not happy with this charge he'd left me.
It's been two days and I am happy to report that no traps have been set off...at least that I have heard anyway. And no, I haven't bothered checking the traps. I plan on re-assigning this charge to Chad when he gets home.
While part of me hopes that this will be the last of our mousy problem, I know that it most likely isn't...the breaks of living by a field.
And as if this perpetual pest problem isn't enough, I have been told that come spring and summer we will most likely find ourselves foot to face with all manner of snakes.
I cannot begin to tell you the spectacle that will take place if I run into one of these creepies out int the yard, let alone find one slithering about in the garage, or heaven forbid, inside the house. Just thinking about it gives me the heebies.
Anywho, I'm sure there will be further posts documenting my first encounter. I can hardly wait.

Fight FOCA

2009-02-03T21:53:00.000-08:00

Hello friends and bloggy peeps,

I am not usually one to force my ideals and/or opinions, but when it comes to children, or in this case an unborn child, I have a hard time sitting back and letting the chips fall where they may (especially when I am currently serving as host to a fetus).

Also, this is my blog and I am free to say whatever I want, right? So here goes the spiel.

Stepping on soapbox now (if you are not fond of political discussion, you may leave).

Currently, the government is in the process of trying to pass a horrible piece of legislation called FOCA, otherwise known as The Freedom of Choice Act. This Act seeks to make abortion a fundamental right. It seeks to eradicate any and every restriction on abortion nationwide, both on a state and federal level.

I don't know about you, but the thought of abortion becoming an unregulated right scares the living crap out of me. I know that in my current position I am not able to do much, but I can at least make my voice heard by signing a petition against FOCA, which I have done already.

I just want to encourage any of you visiting to do the same. And spread the word amongst your family and friends. It is so simple and takes literally seconds to complete. Just go to www.fightFOCA.com and sign the petition (I have provided the link in the upper left hand corner of my bloggy...for your convenience). Even if we are unsuccessful, which I don't think we will be, at least we can say we tried.

Kay, stepping of soapbox now. Good night.

P.S. I know the song says "I fought the law and the law won", but I really don't think this will be case in our situation...I am confident of success. Nevertheless, I kept the song, regardless of it's message, because I don't know of any song with the catchphrase "I fought the law and totally kicked it's can"...maybe I'll write something myself. Anywho, just pretend that's what my boys from The Clash really are singing, um-kay. Thanks, kindly.

Random Question.

2009-01-30T08:18:00.000-08:00

Dear Bloggy Peeps,

I have a random, yet important question for you. I only ask because I respect your opinion.
As you may know, I am trying to name my fetus. In the past I have not bothered picking a name in advance...mostly due to the fact that Chad and I cannot ever agree. Consequently, putting off naming the baby til the last minute has always resulted in stress, frustration and ironically, name-calling.
In order to bypass this unnecessary situation, I have taken it upon myself to name this baby well in advance. Please note that Chad is not aware of my scheme. But I figure that I choose a name quick enough, he'll have plenty of time to warm up to it over the next few months.
Anyway, back to the issue at hand...the middle name. My random question is this: is it weird to give a child the name of Noelle even if she isn't born on or around Christmas? Before you answer, let me explain my reason behind choosing the name. My grandma's middle names are Norene and Belle...combined they make No-elle. I just like the idea of this baby having the name of two of my most favorite people in the world. The other option is Ashman (my middle name), or Erika.
So, there it is. Please weigh in. I wouldn't ask if I didn't have to.
You guys are true friends.

Sincerely,
Frustrated Fetus-carrying Friend

Happy 6th Birthday, Avery.

2009-01-27T09:25:00.000-08:00

Six years ago today number three was born. Her birth was long awaited. Though she arrived almost a week early, it was not early enough for me (number's one and two had both come three weeks early). Finally, around midnight on the 26th I felt like something might be happening. I laid in bed for a few hours, just biding my time as I didn't want to leave for the hospital in the middle of the night (note: We were living in Sacramento at the time and had no family nearby. I did not want to have to call up our friends in the wee hours of the morning to babysit, so I just waited it out at home for a reasonable hour to come...I will not make that mistake again Finally at six, I decided it was time to wake Chad and call our friends to babysit. I remember vividly stopping by the video store to return a DVD on the way to hospital so we wouldn't be charged a late fee...another mistake I will not make.
We finally made it to the hospital and I was dilated to a six. After monitering my contractions for a half an hour, they transferred me to a delivery room. By then I was at an eight. The bright doctor broke my water and said he needed to perform a quick C-section then would be right back. Three contractions later I was in full blown labor, ready to push, with no doctor to deliver me (Please also note that this was not my regular doctor...just the guy who was on call from the practice).
For a moment things were frantic as nurses and residents tried to prepare themselves for the hasty delivery (Consequently, Avery has struggled with patience ever since. When she's ready and wants something, she wants it now).
Three pushes later, my baby "boy" was born. I say boy becuase I was certain that Avery was going to be a boy. So certain, that I didn't even bother packing a cute, pink, girly outfit.
She weighed a mere eight pounds and six ounces. Ouch! She caused substantial damage...I won't go into detail, but was so stinkin' cute that I didn't care if I would ever walk normally again. She looked like a little asian baby; granted a pale, pasty asian baby, with her full, chubby face and almondy eyes (Just FYI, my dad reminds many of Mr. Miyagi, again a pale, fair-skinned Mr. Miyagi).
We had a hard time picking a name for Avery, shocker! Mainly because we hadn't bothered picking out any girl names. One of my sister's suggested the name Avery and we were set. Her middle name was much easier to choose...Belle, after my grandma. Avery Belle; it has a nice ring to it.
The past six years with Avery has been anything but dull. She is the feisiest and spunkiest kid of the bunch...a true redhead...except that she's blonde. She is funny, smart and charming and I love the kid...attitude and all.
Avery you are my sunshine. My life without you would be bleak and dark. I love you so much. I hope you have a wonderful birthday...my little Aver-cakes.

Precious Pettiskirts.

2009-01-26T15:13:00.001-08:00

My most recent obsession: chiffon pettiskirts. I first came across one of these fluffy delights at Gardner Village(they kinda remind me of cupcakes, hmmm). It was like star crossed lovers seeing each other for the first time. I couldn't stop thinking about them (I would have bought one, except for that I am a cheapskate and would never think of spending the hellish amount they were asking for them).
Anyway, I am on a quest to figure out how to make one of these lovely skirts. Wish me luck, as I am a not a very good seamstress. I will show the finished product...if it turns out.

How did I get here?

2009-01-12T09:32:00.001-08:00

Last night was one of those rare occurences where I found myself questioning my commitment to parenting. I know that sounds rash, but mind you, this was my thought process at three in the morning.
It all began with the dreaded sound of bare feet padding down the hallway towards my room. Number two (child number two, not potty number two) had decided to grace me with her presence. Fifteen minutes later the even more horrific sound of another set of feet (this time little, footed sleeper clad feet) could be heard padding down the hallway...again, in my general direction. Number four, somehow subconciously honed in on the "party" going on in mama's room and roused himself from slumber so as not to miss it.
For the next twenty minutes I was forced to listen to the cheerful chatter and giggling of two of my little dearies...a sound that would typically warm my heart, but not at three thirty in the morning.
Now, you may be wondering where Chad was in the middle of all this commotion. I found myself asking that same question, whilst cursing the man in my mind for leaving me all alone to deal with this dilemma. Chad was in Seattle for the whole debaucle. Hmmm, a well planned trip. It's as if he knew something was a-brewing.
To make matters worse the raquet (not sure if it was the kids joyful noises or my yelling) woke number three who then also decided to join us.
At that point I felt it a good time, since I had everyone on my bed, to explain that during the nighttime we sleep. When it is dark outside we should be sleeping...like the rest of the world...not keeping mama up.
Number three quickly called me out and responded "Not in China. People in China are not asleep right now".
Touche, my little lady, but now is not the time to get smart with mama.
I immediatly responded by telling the children there would be no more talking or I would set them out on the balcony in near freezing temperatures to sleep...without a blaket.
My empty threats did not work. The kids know me too well.
Finally I left the room, peacefully and calmly mind you. I would hate for you to think that I have a complete lack of self control. I retreated to the girls' room in hopes of finding some peace and quiet. As I lay there, I could hear the parade of little feet padding against the floor towards me. I tried my best to act like I was asleep, and discreetly opened one eye just to see if they were buying it. There they were, all three of them, standing over me...just peering...waiting.
Frankly, this little episode freaked the crap out of me. It reminded me of something out of Children of the Corn, or some other horror flick, where the devil children stand peacefully and serenely surveying their prey, and then suddenly and ferociously pounce.
I did not give my little ones the chance, I immediately summoned them all back to my bed...where they could be on eye level...and ordered them to lay down and be quiet. Initially, they weren't, but after an hour and a half of ridiculousness their eyes became weary and droopy, and finally...sleep.
I checked the clock and saw that I had exactly two hours before I'd have to get up to get kids off to school.
Fast forward to 6:56am...four minutes before I had to wake. BRRRRING, BRRRRING, the phone ringing startled me awake. I checked the clock and saw it was not yet seven and immediatly became panicked. I rarely ever get phone calls before seven.
I scraped myself off the bed and ran to the phone, preparing myself for tragic news. Ironically, on the other end was the sweet little (devil) voice of a little girl from Quinn's class at school asking if Quinn could play. Honestly, I was so dazed I can't remember what I told her. I vaguely remember something about karate and after school, but that's about it.
Only now is it occuring to me that it was freaking 6:56 in the morning and she was asking to play. One question, girlfriend: where are your parents?!?!?
Just FYI, she called back two more times.
I went back to the bedroom; not to sleep, but to rouse my little brood for school. Thankfully I was able to drive to the school and back without breaking any traffic laws or causing any accidents in my drousy condition.
Now, here I sit, trying to muster up the energy to get dressed and showered. If I could I would just sit at home in my PJ's all day long, but I can't. I've got a date with the dentist...mostly likely for a root canal. Just the cherry on top of what could be my longest night ever.

A New Year

2008-12-31T14:03:00.000-08:00

It is hard to believe that today is a new year (I'm already anxious about my birthday in nine months).
Consequently, I've spent most of the day reflecting on the things I actually accomplished and the many things I wish I had accomplished this past twelve months...let's see, buy a dumperooni, check; get knocked up, check; stick with the 'ol bloggy, check; lose weight and get in shape, oops...well, something's gotta give.
Really, the only resolution I technically made with myself last year was to start a blog and post at least once a month. I am happy to report that I achieved my goal...to Chad's dismay...I am addicted.
Anyway, this year I have decided to really challenge myself by setting not only one, but several resolutions. I am hopeful, yet doubtful that I will accomplish them all, but still want to try.
Immediate goal... find myself a RED VELVET CUPCAKE.
Long term goals...to be more diligent about family home evening, prayer and scripture study. Second, to be better about budgeting...ugh, I hate that word. Third, to get back down to pre-babies size...methinks I will be enlisting my good friend Jenny, or W. Watchers for this one. Fourth, bearing in mind that this is the caboose baby, I would ideally like to have an extreme overhaul done on the 'ol body, a little nip here, a little tuck there, and a little lift everywhere. But, also bearing in mind that resolution number two is to stay on a budget...I'll have to achieve this the old-fashioned way...duct tape and super glue. Just kidding, I may actually have to break a sweat and exercise...ooh, I just vomited a little. Hopefully I will be able to overcome my aversion to movement.
Well, there it is, immortalized in cyberspace for all the see.
Here's to a happy, red velvety new year.

Pregnant Rant

2008-12-19T08:08:00.000-08:00

Okay, I have a little rant. I despise pick up and drop off at my kids school. It is seriously the most riciculous spectacle I have ever witnessed. Nothing makes me more frustrated than watching people pull up in the drive through lane and butt their way into the drop off lane. I seriously sat in the same spot for five minutes today while I watched three people butt in front of me. HELLO PEOPLE, is my time not as valuable as yours? I'm thinking of designing a horm that allows one to type in all sorts of obscene phrases and put downs so as to express ones feelings in a more open and positive way. I think it's a great idea. This way you can rant right as the incident happens and don't have to let it fester inside. Okay, I think I'm done.
HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!!
Note: I am not changing my theme song...Thank You...because I want to say "thank you" to all you big, fat butters who don't know how to wait your turn.

Shout-out to my peeps.

2008-12-18T17:48:00.000-08:00

I am feeling a little overwhelmed currently. Overwhelmed in a good way though. As many of you know, the past month or so has been a little...umm...unstable. I don't want to sound ungrateful or whiney, but the past few weeks have definately been harder than Chad and I expected they would be. The house has been a very expensive and time consuming project and has worn us all out. Surprisingly, the kiddies have taken everything in stride and are showing only the slightest signs of abandonment.
Here's where the shout-out comes in. I am truly surprised by how concerned friends have been about our current situation. When old ward members found out we were still without a kitchen and no means of cooking, people were offering to bring in meals and were asking us over for dinner. I cannot tell you(and you know who you are) how grateful I am to for your friendship. I cannot tell you how guilty I feel as well, because I know that you all have had your fair share of hardships and I was not there for you like you have been for me. I hope you can forgive me. Please know that I will not forget this wonderful act of kindness and service. I cannot say thank you enough. And for the record, all the food has been FREAKIN' FANTASTIC.
Please know, that someday I will try to return the favor.
In addition to food, friends have offered babysitting and words of support. You will never understand how great it has made me feel to get a phone call, or text or email simply asking how things were going and if I needed anything.
In a nutshell...I am lucky...and you guys are DA BOMB. I love you all and hate the thought of not being able to see you guys around the neighborhood or every week at church. But then I am comforted by the thought that I know where each and every one of you live, and I will come track you down if you stop calling or texting me. So, consider yourselves warned.
Thanks again, everyone who has helped us. We owe you all...big time.

Red Velvet Cupcakes

2008-12-16T18:53:00.000-08:00

I know a few of you have been on my case about posting pics of the house, but lets get to really important issue of the day shall we...my all-consuming, nothing else matters, obssession with red velvet cupcakes. AND, not just any red velvet cupcake...the red velvet cupcake of which I partook of...several times...whilst vacationing with my hubby in San Diego two months ago (from a little place called Heavenly Cupcakes...which is exactly what they are...little bits of heaven). I made sure to eat my fill before we left so as to sate my unhealthy desire for the naughty, red morsel...and frankly I was satisfied...up until about a month ago when the mack-daddy of all pregnancy cravings hit. Now here I sit, confused, frustrated unsatisfied and freakin' starving for my beloved cupcake.

Oh dear, red velvety, delight from my dreams...I cannot stop thinking of you. How I wish you were closer so I could admire your perfect reddish hue, and your creamy, white frosting cap. How I wish I could just hold you, smell you, lick you...and eventually devour you, with little or no regret. Hopefully, my dear cake of tangible love, it will not be much longer before we are reunited. Until then, know that you are in my thoughts...constantly.

Now, you may all understand why I have not posted pics of the house. I have much weightier(after I get done eatin' em) and tastier things on my mind.
Here's a pic of what I see when I close my eyes and night, and what I think about every other second of the day. Try not to cry. I know it's beautiful.

Pee Wee Herman: A Tribute

2008-12-12T16:02:00.000-08:00

During our lengthy stay at my saintly sister's house an oldie, but goodie was risen from the dead...Pee Wee's Big Adventure. I may take a lot of heat for admitting this, but back in the day I was a huge Pee Wee Herman fan. I remember using the phrase "I know you are, but what am I", imitating the infamous bar dance, and taping my face in disturbingly hideous ways. But, one part of the movie in particular hits very close to home...the hilarious bike flip scene. I remember trying to perfect this biking stunt and biffing it more than a few times (don't deny it, you all did too). Anywho, a little blast from the past for your viewing pleasure. I will forever be indebted to Mr. Herman. The image of him flipping over the handlebars in front of an audience of children, and then trying to act all cool about it has tickled me ever so much during these past few stressful weeks. Thank you, thank you Pee Wee Herman. Even though you turned out to be a major mervy pervy, you still make me laugh...twenty years later.

I included a few more clips becuase I just couldn't resist. This next clip cracks me up. I love it when he says "I pity the poor fool, who don't eat Mr. T cereal". I don't why it makes me laugh, but it does. I also like how eat imitates eating like his little dog Speck (this part cracks Beckham up too) and then how he makes this ridiculously complicated breakfast and then eats one little morsel of cereal.

I love how you can see P.W. go flipping off to the side after he crashes through the sign. Hee hee.

Alive, and Well...for the most part.

2008-12-12T13:15:00.000-08:00

Just wanted to check in and let ya'll know that we are still alive. I have been very, very bad about keeping the ol' bloggy updated, I know. But seriously, this house thing has sucked the sense of humor right out of me (not too mention the fetus inside which has sucked all the energy right out of me. I feel like I'm thirty-two going on ...insert hellishly old number here). Consequently, I have felt like I should avoid posting all together...you know the phrase...if you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all.
However, today is a better day, which is why I'm attempting to post. I am seeing a glow...ever so faintly...at the end of the long, ridiculously dark, tunnel that is remodeling (don't anyone tell me I told ya so...). Bedrooms are painted, the rest of the house is currently being painted and will hopefully be finished by Monday of next week. Then we have the counter people and flooring people coming next week to do their thang. Hopefully by next Friday we will have a semi-functioning household...hopefully.
I am not going to make any promises, cause I'm sick of lying at this beautiful time of year, but I may POSSIBLY get some pictures up on the housy blog...for those of who may be interested.
Oh, and mom and dad if you read this, we're okay. I know you haven't been able to reach me for over a month. But we're okay, we're alive. Everyone is well, except for the typical bowel issues that accompany a hellish diet of fast food and cold cereal. Aside from that all's well. Don't worry bout a thing.

Weekend(s) update.

2008-11-23T12:45:00.000-08:00

It has been a long while...too long. And I am repentant to have left without saying goodbye. Please forgive me. Here's what's been going on during my absence.
We finalized both the purchase of our "new" home and the sale of our "old" home, moved out of the "old" home and started demo-ing and remodeling the "new" one; which consequently has forced us into temporary homelessness. Thankfully we were able to find some good samaritans to take our brood in...my sister and her family. Methinks she might be regretting that decision now, but she and her family are to too kind to kick a pregnant lady and her four children out into the cold, so here we are, still mooching off the fam.
The past two weeks have been spent trying to get things finished on the house so that we can leave my sister and her family to the peace and serenity they once knew...so long ago. But, honestly I am not sure when the house will be done. Hopefully it will be done "enough" that we can start moving in this week, but I know better than to get my hopes up.
On a lighter, happier note, Chad and I went to the Coldplay concert last night. Again, I bided my time by watching fellow concert goers act like imbaciles. This concert experience boasted a middle aged, ice-cream licking, dancing man, a couple of scantilly clad hoochie ladies shakin' their assets, and another freaky, dancing lady off in la-la land. And like last time, I became the freaky, dancing, old lady when my boy Chris took to the stage and started singing.
In a nutshell, the concert was amazing. Coldplay is probably my favorite band and it was surreal to think that I was in the same room with them. They were cordial and gracious throughout the entire concert which makes me love them even more. I have spent the blessed sabbath walking in a Coldplay daze. Unfortantely it's back to the grind tomorrow.
I have left you with a few of my favorite coldplay songs...that are still ringing in my ears...literally.

Lil' Bruiser.

2008-11-06T19:41:00.000-08:00

The other night I decided to retire to bed early. Ever the involved parent that I am, I turned a movie on for the big kids and sent them downstairs, while I took the lil' guy upstairs with me. I turned on an episode of...you guessed it...Little Einstein's, so as to give the boy some intellectual edification whilst I rested the ol' eyes. For the record, I was resting my eyes, not sleeping.
Anywho, at some point I did end up dozing off and was awoken by the blood curdling screams of my little man. It is never fun waking up to that sound and my heart nearly burst out my chesticle.
Sometime during my, uh-hum, brief moment of unconsciousness, my little guy decided to venture down to the basement where his elder siblings were...supposedly sleeping. Something tells me there was no sleeping going on, but rather the usual shenanigans that seem to plague our family.
By the time I had my wits about me, Avery had already climbed the two flight of stairs with her screaming brother in tow. She explained that Beckham had been playing, while they were all "resting" and had somehow fallen off the bed and hit his eye on the trundle. Uh huh, sure. She handed over her injured brother and promptly left...the sign of the guilty. When I was finally able to focus my weary eyes I was immediately drawn to Beckham's left eyebrow. It seriously looked like the boy had a mutant alien growing under his skin...it was ridiculous.
By morning the swelling had gone down, but had left a nasty purple bruise in its wake.
It has been a couple days since the incident took place, but it looks worse now than before. The bruising has moved down the side of his face along his temple, and is underneath his eye as well. Poor kid. He doesn't even know how pathetic he looks. I have made it a point not to venture out in public so as to avoid the dreaded "what happened" question. Even if it was an innocent little accident there are always those mother's who like to flash the "that would never happen to my child" glare, and in my volatile hormonal state I felt it best to avoid the confrontation...not sure why, but pregnancy seems to bring out my impatient and intolerant side.
I will try to upload a picture soon, that is if I can find my camera and the necessary cord (we're in the middle of moving...just in case you were wonderin').

Post Election Day Emotions.

2008-11-05T10:57:00.000-08:00

I thought I had best remove my nobama ticker before the government tracked me down and tried me for treason.
No seriously, this post is for my kiddies, but read on if you like.
Today history has been made. Though I am a staunch republican and voted as such, I cannot help but feel a little proud of the history that has been made this day. Though I cannot profess to support everything president-elect Obama stands for, I do believe that all men are created equal...regardless of race, religion, etc. For that I believe this day is a victory for everyone.
Little ones, I know that you cannot fully understand the gravity of this situation, but it is something your children and grandchildren will read about in their history books.
The one thing I hope to impress upon you most is that this country is great. It was founded my great men who wanted it to be a home for people of all colors, races and creeds. It is truly the one place a person can become whatever they want, and can accomplish anything they set their mind to. I hope, my little kiddies, that you will always remember that.
Okay, now I'm off to bury all my gold and silver and secure the bunker...just in case.
P.S. Another proud moment for me today was seeing that proposition eight passed. The people have spoken...long live the family.

Weekend Update

2008-11-02T13:49:00.000-08:00

This weekend has been a busy one. On Friday, Halloween, I attended the kiddies Halloween parade and then later that evening took them out trick-or-treating. I was pleased to see that for once mother nature cooperated and gave us some decent holiday weather. The kids were troopers and and came home with an ample supply of sugar...mama thanks you.
Saturday, our family partook in the dreaded annual Brendle family photo shoot. For some reason the word picture brings out the very worst in my family. Every year I get my hopes up thinking that this will be the year; the year everyone decides to be a team player and will smile, smile, smile til' their little cheek muscles quiver with exhaustion. And every year I'm disappointed. This year was no exception. However, the photographer had a finger like a trigger-happy gun slinger...the fastest finger in the west...and was able to capture some pretty great moments. Thanks Amy.
In addition to our photo shoot, I have started feeling lousy and we have started packing up for the big move down the street. We have to be out of our current home by the tenth, which leave us this week to get everything done. Fingers crossed that the deal on our Fruitwood house goes through.
And finally, today, Sunday, is Beckham's birthday. I am grateful he is only two, and will not care that his day was really lame...just a couple presents and a crappy Wal-mart cake.
I am hoping that the remainder of the weekend involves, me, a bed and some peace and quiet. But, I'm not holding my breath on that one. And now, some pics...don't be surprised when you see one of them donning our annual Christmas card in a few weeks.

This pretty much encapsulates how the whole family feels about picture time.

Baby Beckham's 2

2008-11-02T11:43:00.000-08:00

My little man is another year older. It is hard to believe that two years ago today, I gave birth to an almost nine pound child...my uterus and bladder haven't been the same since.
The poor child began his existence nameless. For the first week of his life his daddy and I bounced names back and forth waiting for one to stick, but to no avail. Finally inspiration struck, in the form of Emily Dean, who suggested the name Beckham, and finally our baby boy was named...after a freakin' super uber hottie soccer player with a British accent...swoon, swoon. Uh-hum, where were we? Oh, and finally our baby boy had a name. I cannot imagine him being called anything else. Fittingly, the child has had an infatuation with balls of all sorts since birth. And yes, the poor child will play soccer. It seems a little sac-religious to have him play anything but.
It is difficult to imagine life without this fair-haired, blue-eyed angel boy. Granted, he doesn't always act like an angel, like when he hits, bites or block-clocks the kiddies in the nursery, but he does have plenty of tender moments, like when he climbs up on my lap and tells me "I love you much", or when he tells me "by you me", which translates to "come sit by me", or when he jumps on my head and "lick/kisses" me.
In a nutshell, life with Beckham has been joyful. I realize how quickly he'll grow up. Until then I will enjoy him for what he is...a pleasant, yet occasionally moody two year old boy, who loves cars, dinosaurs, and action figures. I look forward to at least a few more years of "I love you much's" and "by you me's" and "lick/kisses" and I'll be sure to savor each one, for I know that soon enough they will not be given as freely as they once were.
But, no matter how old and cool you get, little Beck's, I will always love you...I will always love you much.

My little goblins.

2008-10-30T12:05:00.000-07:00

Mmmmm, some Halloween candy...I would like.

...and NO, I did not forget about Carter. Tomorrow is his school parade so I will be sure to add pics then. What kind of parent do you think I am?...wait don't answer that.

I've been BOO-ed.

2008-10-29T07:00:00.000-07:00

I woke up this morning to find that I had been boo-ed. A fun, little, festive surprise. I will be so sad when Halloween is over. Not just because it is my very most favorite holiday, but because the next two holidays will be a little up in the air...what with all the house stuff going on. Hopefully, we will at least be settled by Christmas so that I can put a tree up and possibly a few decorations. Oh, and if you are reading this post...consider yourself boo-ed. Pick up your picture here and post it on your blog. Happy Halloweenie!!!

Another Weekend Update.

2008-10-26T17:56:00.000-07:00

I am happy to report that this weekend was uneventful. Chad and I are exhausted both mentally and physically as we juggle selling a house and buying a house simultaneously. To be honest, I'm not sure what is more draining...buying or selling...but I will say that I do not plan on doing either again for a very long time.
I have finally posted pics of the ol' money sucker. Just think of the potential...that's what I keep telling myself.
Oh, one fun thing we did do this weekend was attend our ward trunk-or-treat and our good friends, the Memmott's, Halloween party. I love all of the fun Halloween festivities. I'm finding that the excessive sugar rush adds to my exhaustion, but all of that heavenly chocolate is totally worth it.

Pics from the trunk-or-treat. Not sure what happened to the camera. The last half of my pics came out all blurry. And since these are the only pics I have of the girls...

Black cat Avery.

Cheetah Quinn.

My little "oda", as Beckham calls it, and Carter-wan-kenobi.

Weekend Update.

2008-10-18T20:49:00.000-07:00

I know the weekend is only half over, but quite a few things have happened and I thought I might share.
1- Avery lost her very first baby tooth. I know it doesn't sound exciting, but I think she's the last one out of all her friends to lose a tooth. It was a momentous occasion for her. She was a little miffed this morning when she woke to zilch under her pillow (I had fallen asleep early last night and forgotten to "help" the tooth fairy). Lucky for her, mama's a sly little fox. While she and I were chatting about the dudder tooth fairy I very discreetly stuffed two dollars under her pillow and then suggested she check one more time. Such a tender moment; definately mother of the year material.
2- Had to utilize my own five hundred dollar tip and try to dislodge yet another plastic bead shoved up Beckham's nose hole. Thankfully, I was able to talk the ol' man into performing the deed. Worked like a charm. Found the "sticky" culprit stuck to Chad's cheek. Father of the year material?...I think so.
3- Already had someone come and look at the house and it isn't even on the market yet. A friend from the ward who just moved in mentioned that she had some friends in the market to buy. They stopped in for a few minutes today to check things out. I know better than to be optomistic at this point, but man, it sure would be nice to get the thing sold...even better without the use of realtors...cha-ching.
As much as I would like to hope that all the weekend excitement has been exhausted I still have three hours of church to attend; which means, you will most likely be able to check back tomorrow for the second installment of weekend update. Perhaps I should just start a weekly post entitled Sunday Shenanigans.

Woops!!!

2008-10-15T14:50:00.000-07:00

It appears that I inadvertantly shared a little private info before I was supposed to. So, everyone please dismiss the "baby ticker" post. Forget you ever saw it. I'll repost it again in three months when we are out of the danger zone.
Don't ask me how one accidentally posts breaking news like this without knowing about it. But, leave it to me to find a way. It appears "pregnancy brain" has struck again; extremely early on. I think my case is terminal.
Good thing were have a little extra room as it appears we will be needing it sooner than we thought.
And, thanks but no thanks. (I know what you are all thinking...if we need someone to sit us down and explain our birth control options. Surprisingly, this incident was planned...sort of. Don't worry I won't explain.

Extra, Extra.

2008-10-13T10:01:00.000-07:00

Latest breaking Brendle news: we are moving. I am sorry to say that we have chosen to bid farewell to the place we have called home for the past five years. After a lot of fence sitting, on both mine and Chad's part, we have finally decided that it is time to close the Fruitwood chapter of our book and start anew. We are sad to leave our friends (who have become family) and our neighborhood and our ward, but we both feel strongly that it is time to move on.
We have purchased a home, I use the term loosely...a better description would be hole, pit and/or dump, in Draper. However, this dump boasts 4700 square feet, which is a great improvement from our humble 2300. It also sits on more than half an acre, which means we can buy those chickens I have always wanted. You think I'm joking, but I'm not. Ever since I saw Martha do a segment on chickens, I have always wanted some of my own. So, anyone in the market for organic eggs...you know who to call.
Fortunately, the structure is sound, but is in major need of TLC...unfortunately love does not come cheap, at least in this situation.
I have decided to start a new blog, aptly entitled HOME-LY, which will follow our progress as we transform our dream home "from pig sty, to totally fly". Feel free to join us. And, if any of you intelligent and highly educated peeps have any recommendations for appliances, flooring, granite, sub-contractors...who's good, who to avoid, where the best prices are etc, please feel free to share. Any and all suggestions welcome.
Also, if you know anyone in the market for renting please refer them to us. We will have a two bed, one bath basement apartment, new kitchen, paint and carpet ready for occupancy, hopefully by mid November. If our Fruitwood home doesn't sell by December, well then, that home will be available to rent too.
Ta-ta for now. I'm off to obsess over drawer pulls.

Future Mother of the Year?

2008-10-09T09:04:00.000-07:00

So, I just finished blogging about my amazing concert experience and the kids just informed me that while I had been engaging in a little ME TIME, Beckham had been shoving plastic beads up his nose hole.
Thankfully I happen to be an expert in the field of nostril foreign objects. How did I become so? Allow me to share. When Carter was two and a half he shoved a piece of rubber bouncy ball up his nasal orifice. Due to it's awkward shape and smooth surface the rubber was virtually impossibe to remove with any household tool...i.e. tweezers, needle nose pliers. Not to mention that everytime I "went in" the rubber seemed to retreat further into the nasal passage. I finally resigned and took the kid to the E.R. Five hours and five hundred dollars later I left the ER, broke, tired, but enlightened.
Here's what I learned...my five hundred dollar tip; first, close off the unobstructed nostril with a finger, next cover the child's mouth with your own mouth, making sure to create a perfect seal, finally blow gently, yet firmly (as to not break the seal) into the child's mouth...and voila...out shoots the foreign body; creating a virtual "nasal geyser".
I am happy to report that little Beckham's nose hole is free and clear of any obstruction. Fortunately I was able to catch a perfectly timed sneeze which enabled me to avoid using the "mouth to mouth" technique. I simply held Beckham's mouth shut and the force from the sneeze blew the platic beads...all four of them...right on out.
While the forced projectile technique maybe slimy and a little nauseating it has "saved my bacon" more than once. Hopefully this little info nugget will be a helpful addition to your parenting arsenal as has been to mine.
And yes, I do believe this heroic act has brought me one, teeny, tiny step closer to the title Mother of the Year. The road is long and the destination distant, but hopefully someday I'll get there.

Weezer.

2008-10-09T07:14:00.000-07:00

I really should be preparing my presentation for a stake primary meeting I have to attend tonight...but lets get real...I'd much rather be blogging about my fabulously ear-shattering experience at the Weezer concert Tuesday night.
The night couldn't have started out better...with kids at the sitter and a loaded sweet potater from TRH in my bellee. After gorging til the point of near purging, Chad and I along with our good friends the Memmott's headed off to the concert.
The first two acts were okay, but frankly, I found it more amusing to watch concert goers. I should not judge, I know, especially when I have probably been the source of others amusement, but I couldn't take my eyes off a certain girl who was...well, a freak honestly...but I mean that in the most non-judgemental and kindest way possible. It was like watching a train wreck; I couldn't take my eyes off her. She was seriously in la-la land...twirling and swirling and frolicking with delight.
Initially I thought it might be the booze a-talking, but then I noticed she was not sporting the yellow wristband of drunkeness. Anywho, to you freaky, dancing girl, wherever you may be, thank you for keeping me entertained.
Finally the headliners, my biz-oyz, Weezer took the stage...and then I became the freaky, dancing old lady. But I did not care. Mostly because everyone around me was too inebriated to notice.
The boyz were an amamzing live act. At one point they had a group of thirty-ish concert goers take the stage and play with them. They interacted with the crowd throughout the entire concert. It was really awesome. As you can tell, I am like a giddy school girl when it comes to my music.
All in all it was a great night, topped of with a near brawl with an intoxicated concert goer. Don't worry Mike, everybody knows you would have totally col' cocked home slice's block off. But I was all prepared to kick him in his man goods just in case you needed back up (must have been the post concert adrenaline talking).
And now I leave you with some of favorite Weezer songs for your listening pleasure. In order to recieve full concert effect please turn speakers up to full blast, then place ear over said speaker. For added effect have your children scream at the top of their lungs whilst staggering with a beer in hand. ENJOY.

California...here we come.

2008-09-30T07:10:00.000-07:00

We're moving. Just kidding. I just wanted to give the fam a little freaker.
But, we are going to Cali. Chad just dropped this little bomb on me last night. I say it like it's a bad thing...it's not...I'm just not used to this kind of spontanaity. Those of you who know me at all know how I feel about flying (I loathe it), and how I feel about leaving the kiddies for extended lengths of time. I need time (like weeks or months) to come to grips with these things and Chad has only given me twenty-four hours to do that. Not to mention that in those twenty-four hours I have to get four children packed as well as myself, clean the house and run to the grocery store.
Shootballs! I have a lot to get done. Don't worry, this is just the storm before the calm. I always have a little freakout and then I'm ususally okay.

(Deep, relaxed breathing).

Let me start over. Chad and I are taking a little vacay to SoCal. Today is the last day of the quarter and needless to say, things have been a little stressful, crazy, tiring...
So, last night, Chad handed me a little note; the front of which read "Bon Voyage". My first thought, "are you sending me off to the institution or something"?
Second thought, "wait, are you going somewhere...are you leaving me"?
In my defense, it was late.
He gently opened the card for me as I continued to stare, bewildered, into his eyes.
The note inside read "Congratulations: You won a vacation".
Okay, wait, I'm still confused...again it's late.
The note continued, "Thanks for being the support these last few weeks and for putting up with my especially surly (who uses that word anymore?) attitude. You are amazing (ahh, shucks). I know the end of the quarter pushes are harder on you than they are on me. You deserve a vacation! And I can't bear to leave you!! Love Chad."
At that point I had become really confused.
Now, looking back, I realize what could have been a really amazing, romantic moment...like something out of the movies...where I stand up sobbing and plant the biggest, wettest kiss on my man. But instead I looked up at him with that same bewildered and confused look on my face.
"You're coming with me to my meetings in San Diego", he finally explained, defeated and frustrated.
"Oh", was all I could mutter as the clouds started to part and things became clearer to me. A pretty lame reaction, I know, but that's the way my neurotic mind works.
Naturally I immediatly started freaking out; wondering who in their right mind had constented to take all four of my cute, yet exhausting children (thank you Sebring's, our good friends who may no longer be our friends after this is all over. We owe you guys BIG TIME). I began taking inventory on all of the things I had to do before we left: shopping, cleaning, packing.
Thankfully I was able to go right to bed and sleep during what would have been the pinnacle of my freakout. The ol' man planned that one well.
I woke up this morning still in mild freakout mode...but doing better...mostly just nervous to board a flying death trap (anyone got a couple of extra Valium laying around).
Obviously I haven't gotten any packing or cleaning done this morning as I've been sitting here at the computer instead. Crap, saying that just gave me a freak surge.
Okay, gotta go, but before I do, I wasn't kidding about the Valium. And, I gotta give props to my man for trying to do something totally romantic and memorable. You're totally the best. Sorry for screwing everything up. I'll try not to be so clueless next time, hint hint.
Farewell fellow bloggers. I look forward to returning soon; hopefully more tan and better rested.

Mother's Intuition Strikes Again (completed)

2008-09-28T11:24:00.000-07:00

Okay...deep breaths...in and out, in and out.
I am disappointed to report that there has been another incident involving the primary presidency.
Nothing as dramatic as the last episode...no angry leaders outside in the hall waiting to pounce, no substitution and/or addition of unsavory words to primary songs, but an incident nonetheless.
Allow me to recount.
I was on my way down the hall to the primary room to return some unneeded manuals. Upon entering said primary room I was struck by an uneasy feeling, call it...mother's intuition.
It was the end of church and I hadn't been informed of any misdeed, so I immediatly shrugged the feeling off. I was kindly greeted by my fellow sister and thanked for returning the extra manuals. A bit of small chat insued and just as I was about to bid farewell she stopped me.
"Um, hey, there was a little problem today in primary".
All I could think of to say was, "oh really", in my most surprised voice...curse you mother's intuition.
"Yeah, I already talked to Chad about it, but I just wanted you to be aware. Carter was a little disruptive today during singing time".
I didn't respond, but I was thinking "so...what's the big deal"?
"I told him he needed to be quiet, and then he told me he didn't like me".
"Okay wait, hold the freakin' phone". I didn't say that aloud, but rather screamed it in my head; all the while trying to restrain myself from tearing out the primary door and down the hall in search of the guilty fruit of my loins.
I gained my composure and ever so calmly replied "thank you for making me aware", though I really didn't mean it.
"I told Carter that he doesn't have to like me, but that he does have to be quiet", she added.
At that point I was speechless...for a couple of reasons. One, I was embarrassed that a child...my child...would have the tenacity to speak that way to an adult. And secondly, I was so livid that all I wanted to do was find my child and ask what the *#^% he was thinking speaking to an adult that way. And not just any adult, but a woman I visit teach... AND, not only am I her visiting teacher but she is also the counselor over the nursery...of which I am leader...you see where I'm going. This is not a person I can avoid. AWKWARD.
Now I realize that I may be overreacting. Keep in mind that it is fast Sunday, the blood sugar is low...waaaaay too low to be messin' with me...I'm a freakin' frazzled, starving lady. Nevertheless, I was not pleased to be told that my child was sassin' off to my "superior".
I finally snapped out of my muted stupor and mumbled a quick "thanks" and ran out the door.
On a side note...yesterday, out of the blue, I challenged myself to be more patient with the kiddies I have tendency to flip out on occasion...shocker...but I was reminded of this fact whilst barreling down the hallway, pushing fellow ward members out of my way as I searched for the guilty party.
Thankfully, Carter knew better than to put himself in the line of fire, and had made himself scarce, thus allowing me the time I needed to calm down and remember the challenge I made with myself a mere twenty-four hours prior.
I want you all to know that I made good on my promise. I didn't grab him by the shoulders and shake him violently; demanding to know where he gets off talking to his leaders that way, as I would have liked. As a matter of fact I didn't do anything at all...except for shoot him a look that conveyed pretty much everything I wanted to say and do to him. I think it worked.
When we got home from church he walked in the house and put himself in timeout.
There will be a discussion, perhaps a family home evening centered around this topic But for the time being I think I'll let Carter sweat it out a bit. I may possibly shoot him a follow-up look just to let him know who's boss and that this thing is not over... it's not over 'til the fat lady sings...and frankly, today, this fat lady is just to darn tired and hungry to do any singing.

Random Thoughts: By Erika Brendle

2008-09-22T11:14:00.000-07:00

I don't really have anything of worth to say today, but was motivated to post anyway because I really hate the song on my playlist.
Why not just change the playlist, you may be wondering.
Well, because I am OCD and in order to change the playlist, I must change the post to go along with it. So here it goes. Random thoughts, because I don't have anything better to say and seriously need to change my playlist.

Top Ten Words I Utterly Despise

1- Utter (not so much when used in reference to speaking, but when used to describe a cow's milk vessel, which consequently brings me to...)

2- Teets (pardon me whilst I dry heave)

3- Sack (I prefer the word "bag"...in every useage possible)

4- Panties (they are called undies, or underwear, or skivies, or drawers, but never, ever panties)

5- Discharge (need I say more...now I shall pardon you whilst you all dry heave)

6- Mucous (ugh)

7- Skid (I dunno, it's just an ugly word)

8- Void (another ugly word, like nails on a chalkboard)

9- Colon (mostly because of it's function, but also because it sounds a lot like Cullen, and my dear Edward should never be paired with such a word)

10- Chunks (I despise chunks in all forms. I do not like it in Peanut Butter, or soup, or...vomit. Sorry, if that just made you all blow "chunks")

runner ups: diarrhea, spew, fester, puss and/or pustule, bunion, Funion and onion (just kidding on the last two. Got a little carried away. I happen to enjoy FUN-ions, and onions...I don't however, enjoy bunions) and finally the word mom (but only when it comes in the form of a yell, whine or combination of both) I could go on...but I will spare your stomachs.

Okay, next item of business.

Top Ten Words I Absulotively (absolutely+positively) Love

1- Butter or Butta (I'll take it in any way, shape or form)

2- Freakin' (for when you want to spice up the vernacular)

3- Dip (Dual purpose word...both a noun and a verb...and consequently one of my favorite actions)

4- Refund (Need I say more?)

5- Cream or Creamy (the essential ingredient to all things decadent...as in ice cream, whipped cream, cream cheese etc., also my favorite consistency as in soup and peanut butter)

6- Sweet (another dual purpose word, an exclamation and an adjective. I particularly like this word when it precedes potatoe and I happen to be at Texas Roll House)

7- Edward (Need I say more?)

8- Massage (I feel relaxed just saying it)

9- Laugh (A funny word for a FUN-ny thing)

10- Shiz (just an all around great flavor word...like salt...everythings better with a little shiz)

honorable mentions: giggle, bubble, cuddle, marshmallow, masticate (cause it sounds naughty even though it's not), sassy, preposterous, ditty, booty, bootylicious, kiester and ba-donk-adonk. The list goes on but I'll leave it at that.

Slavery and Servitude.

2008-09-15T08:13:00.000-07:00

You know I can't go and post something super serious and intense without balancing it out with some humor. So here it is. The following is a short conversation that took place in the car. Chad and I were discussing the future of my ninety-nine year old grandmother whose health is failing.

Chad: "We're supposed to be going out of town next week".

Me: "Well, we may heading down to St. George for grandmas funeral instead".

Avery: "Which gramma we talkin' about? The one with the servant?"

Ummm, yes Avery. That's exactly the grandma we're talking about. The one that lives in the castle on the hill; with two really ugly, really mean daughters and one beatiful, young step-daughter she treats like a slave.
Where the heck did that come from? Is that what Avery thinks my grandmother's South American roomate is...a servant?
I can just picture Avery the next time we are at grandmas house, "Hey slave, fetch me my Pet Shops and Barbies". Too many Disney movies, methinks.
Maybe I should sit her down and let her watch Glory, or Roots or Amistad...you know, a real life, down and dirty flick about bondage and servitude.
Watcha think about slavery now, sista?
Okay, I shouldn't joke. Many people lost their lives over the issue of slavery. Apparently they don't teach early American history in kindi-garten, but perhaps they should start, what with all the glamorization of slavery and servitude promoted in todays cartoons (yes Disney, I am speaking to you).
Our children need to know that it is not okay to order anyone around; whether it be an old, grouchy, English clock; an amorous, French candlebra; or a younger, more beautiful step-sister.
I guess I know what our topic will be tonight for family home evening; seeing as how Avery already treats yours truly like her own personal servant. But can you blame her?
Shame on you, Disney, shame on you and your little crab too.

Safety from the Storm.

2008-09-15T07:46:00.000-07:00

I hate to go all serious on you, but I must...only for this post, I promise.
I just attended an amazing enrichment night. The topic was "Safety from the Storm"...how to protect ourselves and our families from the adversary. I document for selfish reasons. I wanted to put everything I remember down "in stone" so that I could refer to it. But, I am happy to share it with you, because the information shared was invaluable. May I just say, that I am probably one of the most paranoid people and I was a little nervous about going, but I am so glad. I feel very EMPOWERED.
First, we had a police chief (in the business for thirty-six years, and a temple worker) speak to us on how we can protect oursevles physically. He said that bad things happen, generally, to people who do dumb things. Meaning, people who don't take the care to lock doors and windows at home, who provoke people on the freeway, who don't lock their car doors etc. are more likely to be the victim. So, rule number one, be smart. He also said to not be so trusting of people. I have to admit that this kind of bothered me a little, but I have to agree. Most offenders of the law look like any one else on the street and you have to be careful. One interesting thing he said is to be aware of the way we walk/present ourselves. By this he meant, walk with confidence, be aware of your surroundings, look people in the eye. People who look like they might put up a fight are less likely to become a victim. Insightful, I thought. He also gave his full approval of cell phones... even for children. Shocking. My little guy has been begging for one, and now I may have a justification for getting him one. He said to be careful of how we dress. Skin attracts sexual predators. Oh, he also said to be a good witness. Meaning, if we see something questionable happening take good notes. License plate numbers are key. If something doesn't sit well with us, if our guts are telling us something is not right, we should rely on that, too. It's okay to report things that may or may not be a big deal. Our phone call may be the missing link in catching someone they've been looking for. Oh, he also asked what we would be willing to lose our life over. Naturally, in a room full of women, the response was our children (or family). This is probably the only valid reason for fighting our offender. It is not worth it to fight for our car, our purse or whatever else. Just give it to them.
Always keep you car doors locked while driving. Keep your blinds closed at night so that we aren't giving some sicko a free show. Don't let your predator ever take you to a second location, EVER. Fight with all you have. It's worth it to get shot in a public place where help is readily available than to be carted off to some remote location where no one will hear or see you.
Oh, just like we tell our kiddies, do not approach the cars of strangers, EVER. Make sure our kids know this too. Teach our kids not to open the door for strangers, even if we are home. And, we shouldn't open the door to strangers either. That is our greatest barrier protecting us from the outside. If you leave your kids home alone, it's better that they make noise, so that it appears like people are there.
I know there was more, but I can't think of anything right now. Oh, one last thing, if your car breaks down and someone stops to help, do not get out with them. Keep you doors locked and stay inside. If they tell you they can't fix the problem without your help, stick a dollar bill out the window and tell them to call a tow truck for you. But, don't ever get out of the car. (Thank goodness for triple A and cell phones). One more last thing, be aware that after 11:00 pm, you are dealing with a different breed of people. He said that this is the time of day when the "nightcrawlers" emerge. People who have been drugging all night are just waking up, people who've been on porno websites are just venturing out etc. So, if you have to go out afterhours, please keep this in mind. Knowledge is power. Yeah baby!!!
Okay, the second speaker took a less intense approach. He is a seminary teacher and he spoke to us on how we can protect ourselves spiritually. It's actually very easy and there are four things we can do. These four steps come straight from the first presidency.
One: Family Prayer. Preferably both morning and night. A good approach is to pick a time both morning and night and designate that as family prayer time. He shared a story of how when he was a teenager he would race home to make it by ten for prayer. And the rule was that the last person in the house kneeling would say the prayer. So, if he had a date in the car and she slowly sauntered in, she'd usually end up giving the prayer. He said that eventually his dates and friends picked up on this and that it would become a mad dash to the house.
Two: Family Home Evening. We hear it a lot, I know, but it must be important. We need to be having family home evening. He shared a really good idea about dedicating our homes. He encouraged everyone to do this, and explained how he took the scripture, I forget the exact reference, but I'll do some research, that talks about building a house of prayer, a house of fasting etc. He took each of these qualities and made a FHE out of it in preparation for their home dedication. After he finished with them, they held a family fast and everyone went to the store and picked our their most favorite food item. After the fast and dedication were over they had a huge feast. Fun. He added that this has become a family favorite and tradition every time they move.
Three: Scripture/Doctrine study. He said that every family should be reading the Book of Mormon together. And, when you finish reading it, start all over again. He and his family have read it seven times. It's okay to read other scripture, but do it in conjunction with the Book of Mormon. He reminded us of how Joseph Smith said it is the "most perfect book". For those of us with young kids who probably don't understand we should still read directly from the scriptures. Just try to explain as you go along. I forget what prophet it was, but he said that there is no question/problem; financial, social, emotional, vocational etc, that cannot be answered or resolved in the scriptures. Hmmmmm. The speaker also mentioned that if we are reading our scriptures we will notice a difference in our patience with our kids and families, we will notice our kids becoming more receptive and obedient to us, more peace overall. I need that!
Four: Wholesome family activites. I guess it's up to our discretion to decide what these are. One thought he did share is for the father's to give our childen blessings. Make it a tradtion every school year. Neil A. Maxwell said that a father's blessing is one of the few blessings, aside from a patriarchal blessing, that can be recorded and referred to. He strongly encouraged everyone in the room to get a father's blessing and to use it as a reference. I would imagine that anything that builds family unity would fall under this category, like family vacations and outings etc.
Anyway there it is, "Cliff's notes" version. Probably not as entertaining as the real deal, but...

My own "Little Einstein".

2008-09-12T11:40:00.000-07:00

I hate to make you all jealous, but I just had to, had to, share with you anyway...MY BABY IS THE BEST BABY IN THE WORLD.
I just arrived home from an exhausting morning of unnecessary shopping and needed a little sumthin sumthin to relax my aching tootsies. So, I decided to put the ol' feet up and "veg" on the couch for a moment whilst engaging in some online window shopping.
Being the ever involved mother that I am, I gave Beckham a cookie and set him in front of the T.V., or what I endearingly call the "learning box", to watch some Little Einsteins...cause I want him to grow up to be a genius.
Anywho, in all my intense online purusing my little man got up without my knowing and disappeared. Like any reasonable parent, I finished what I was doing, and then proceeded to search for the little darling.
I couldn't hear him downstairs but decided to look anyway...I am a very thorough parent...but he wasn't anywheres to be found.
Next, I proceeded to check the doors, all of which were securely shut.
At this point I'm feeling a little panicky, but nothing worthy of hyperventilation. So, I decided to go upstairs, since it was the only place left to look.
I checked the bathroom, Beckham's bedroom, my bedroom, my closet...pretty much everywhere and still no Beckham.
Now, I know your probably asking yourself, what kind of angel baby would put their poor mother through something so worrisome, so I'll tell you.
On the way back down the stairs, I decided to check the crib, just on a whim...and would you believe what I saw...my darling angel baby, sleeping ever so soundly. The little guy had put himself down for a nap.
Immediately I felt a flood of satisfaction and pride wash over my whole person. I mean, only really capable parents have babies that put themselves to bed, right.
It appears that these Little Einsteins sessions are already starting to pay off.

To move or not to move....that is the question.

2008-09-11T09:46:00.000-07:00

This is a call for advice...from some very wise, very objective individuals...that would be you.
For the last two years a major topic of conversation in our household has been whether to move or not to move. Unfortunately, Chad and I were both cut from the same indecisive mold when it comes to decision making; which is why we are still having the same discussion twenty-four months later and which is why I have called upon you for help.
We have been in our current home for five years. It was the perfect little, emphasis on the little, home for us then. But, times have changed. Things are becoming sigificantly cramped shall we say. Not an environment fitting for a self-proclaimed neat freak and clutter phobe. Our humble (2400 sqare feet) abode, I fear, is no longer able to accomodate our family of six.
And to complicate matters more, there has been talk of possibly adding one more to the mix, thus making the grand tally a nice round seven. This really freaks me out. I seriously can't imagine where I would stick one more person. We could convert the master closet into a "bedroom". But that would just be plain old "dub-ya tee" now wouldn't it?
The other, more practical, arrangement would be to stick Beckham with Carter, thus making the nursery available for occupancy. While this seems logical enough, it makes me a little nervous because Carter is in the basement and Beckham is just a baby and I...uh hum, I mean he, needs me to be close.
While the space issue is enough reason to move in my opinion, I feel it necessary to share the reasons why we shouldn't move just to be fair.
The first and most important reason being money. Naturally, we will be taking on more financially to upgrade. The question is whether or not the trade off is worth it.
Secondly, we are ridiculously close to every modern convenience: grocery stores, restaurants (Texas Roll House specifically), I-15, shopping i.e. Target and Wally's.
Thirdly, we will be leaving behind the best neighbors, neighborhood, ward etc. and I'm nervous that we won't be so lucky a second time.
In all honesty, I think this freaks me out more than the money. I hate to move to a nice, big, expensive home only to learn after the fact that we have Freaky Freakerson on one side Creepy Creeperson on the other. Likely not gonna happen, which I realize, but that's just how my mind works.
Now to you my trusted, fellow blogees, am I being impractical, worldly, selfish...?
Is wanting a bigger house really a bad thing? Part of me thinks yes; that I just be grateful to any home at all. But then, part of me also thinks no. There is nothing wrong with wanting something more...something better. It's good to be motivated; to have goals and aspriations, right?
You can see my dilemma. I am a perpetual fencesitter (as is Chad on this particular topic). So, please if you have any opinions, advice, or suggestions etc. please share. Don't worry, what you say will only affect the rest of my life...just kidding, but at the same time kinda not.

Birthday.

2008-09-08T15:53:00.000-07:00

For those of you who don't know already, I am officially one year older...thirty-two to be exact.
Getting older never really used to bother me, but this birthday was not one I was particularly looking forward to. I was, in fact, kinda dreading it.
I think my birthday phobia startly shortly after I turned thirty and officially had to bid farewell to my twenties. There's just something very...grown up about being thirty-something. And quite frankly, I don't want to be grown up. And as a side note, do any of you remember the T.V. series called Thirtysomething from the early nineties-ish? Well, I do. And you know what, it was a show about old people (at least that's what I thought back then). And ya wanna know something else? NOW I'M ONE OF THOSE OLD PEOPLE!!!
I know I should just relax and accept the fact that I am getting older, but it's difficult. Guess I'll just keep lathering my face in Retin-A and vitamin E oil and countless other sticky, stinky substances that might possibly preserve my youthful glow. Hopefully it won't all backfire on me.
Anyway, aside from the "little" preoccupation with getting older, my birthday was a great day.
Highlights included: a deliciously decadent sweet potatoe from Texas Roll House...my mouth is watering just thinking about all those perfectly toasted mini marshies, and all that melted cinnimon butter; my totally rad birthday presents...I know that probably sounds completely shallow, but they really are rad...pictures are below; and finally, all of the phone calls and visits from family and friends...you guys are da shizzle...I love you. You totally made a day I was dreading not so dreadful.
So, thank you...and long live Botox.

I wish for eternal youth and a lifetime supply of Retin-A.

Aren't these little guys sooo cute? They totally remind me of Nightmare Before Christmas.

And the whole village. The best part...they are made of cardboard and paper. So, I don't have to worry about the kids breaking them like everything else their busy little hands touch.

Ta-dum! The "pee-ehs duh re-zis-tahns" (spelled phonetically cause I don't know French). Chad bought me this beauty. I think it was his passive-agressive approach to kicking me out of the office. Apparently he's tired of me invading his space. Oh, well. Now I can blog from the comfort of the couch, bed or toilet. Just FYI, I don't plan on blogging from the pot, per se, but it's an option...ya know...should the need ever arise.

Sunday Boredom.(updated)

2008-09-07T14:19:00.000-07:00

I know, I know, if I were a better person I'd be out visitng the sick and elderly... Instead, I spent most of Sunday piddling around on the computer. My mission: to take every chartacter quiz know to man and post it on my blog. Not sure I agree with every result, but some are right on the money.

Twilight Quiz by QuizRocket.com fun tests!
Fun Quizzes | Quizes | MySpace Quizzes
» » "Who Should I Vote For?" « «

FiREFLY QUIZ
created with QuizFarm.com

You scored as Simon, the Doctor

Simon Tam, a former well-to-do young surgeon and bachelor extraordinaire.
You gave up everything to help your sister, which I respect.
However, you are also pompous and talk too much, which I also respect.

Simon, the Doctor

81%

Inara, the "Companion"

69%

Captain Malcolm Reynolds

56%

Shepherd Book

50%

Kaylee, the Mechanic

50%

First Mate Zoe

44%

Jayne Cobb, resident bad-ass

38%

RiVER

25%

Wash, the Pilot

25%

Star Wars

Which Star Wars character would you be? (pics)
created with QuizFarm.com

You scored as Leia Organa

A princess who uses her political powers to help the rebel alliance. You are calm and cool no matter the situation and always willing to fight for your beliefs. Now if only you could get those cinnamon buns off your head.

Leia Organa

88%

Obi-Wan Kenobi

81%

Padme Amidala

63%

Palpatine

63%

Darth Maul

56%

Luke Skywalker

50%

Yoda

44%

Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader

44%

Han Solo

31%

Boba Fett

31%

Quiz

Which Harry Potter Character Are You?

Hermione

You’re book smart, moral and cool under pressure. You love learning and showing others what you know. You’re way more mature than those around you, and you always seem to know what’s best.

Fun quizzes, surveys & blog quizzes by

Most Comprehensive X-Men Personality Quiz 2.0
created with QuizFarm.com

You scored as Storm

Storm is the seconday team leader of the X-Men. She has a peaceful personality but must be careful since her emotions control her powers. She loves gardening and is afaid of tight spaces. Powers: Control of the Weather

Storm

70%

Colossus

70%

Cyclops

70%

Jean Grey

65%

Nightcrawler

60%

Rogue

45%

Emma Frost

45%

Iceman

45%

Wolverine

40%

Beast

35%

Gambit

30%

Chronicles of Narnia Quiz

Friends Quiz

Which Friends character are you? Your Result: You are like Rachel You are a great friend, and your friends can rely on you. You are always supportive and they can trust you. You are independent and you don't need anyone to look after you. You are always wearing the latest fashion and your clothes and hairstyles are regularly copied by your friends and people around you. You want to settle down, but only with the right person.
You are like Joey
You are like Monica
You are like Ross
You are like Phoebe
You are like Chandler
Which Friends character are you? Quiz Created on GoToQuiz

Which "Lost" character are you?
created with QuizFarm.com

You scored as Claire

You are Claire! By taking your palm readers advice and flying when your 8 months pregnant you end up on the island. You have cravings for peanut butter and feel safe around Charlie, despite your dreams of being kidnapped.

Claire

44%

Sayid

38%

Boone

38%

Jack

31%

Michael

25%

Shannon

19%

Kate

19%

Sun

13%

Sawyer

Charlie

Locke

Grey's Anatomy, Which Character Are You?
created with QuizFarm.com

You scored as George O'Malley

You are the guy or girl next door, you are everybody's friend, you have no true enemies. You put your friends first and yourself last. You tend to hide your feelings, and avoid negative situations.

George O'Malley

100%

Izzie Stevens

100%

Derek Sheherd

88%

Miranda Bailey

75%

Meredith Grey

75%

Preston Burke

63%

Cristina Yang

25%

Alex Karev

13%

Which Lord of the Rings character are you most like?
created with QuizFarm.com
You scored as Samwise Gamgee

Samwise Gamgee

73%

Frodo Baggins

67%

Arwen of Rivendell

67%

Aragorn

63%

Legolas

63%

Gimli

60%

Meriadoc Brandybuck (Merry)

60%

Gandalf the Grey

57%

Peregrin Took (Pippin)

57%

Galadriel

50%

Saruman the White

47%

Eowyn of Rohan

33%

Boromir

33%

Gollum

30%

Sunburned, I mean kissed, In St. George.

2008-09-03T15:53:00.000-07:00

This past weekend the ol' man set out for a boys weekend in Seattle, so rather than sit at home moping I decided to sit in the car for four hours and mentally mope all the way to St. George.
My sister and her family were heading south for the long weekend, so I figured I would tag along.
Now, having just taken a thirteen hour road trip not long ago, I was a little hesitant to attempt the journey alone, without any back-up...even though some was offered (Thanks Michele for offering up one of your precious own to accompany me, but I just didn't have the heart to make a poor innocent soul endure the four hour long car drive with my four wild monkeys).
To my surprise the trip down wasn't bad. Perhaps it was due to the fact that I brought my trusty, old I-POD along. I just cranked the sucker up to full blast and cruised...totally oblivious to the shenanigans going on behind me. Ahhh, ingorance really is bliss.
Saturday we spent the day at the lake; just like the good old days. It was tons of fun sitting on the beach, admiring all my cellulite, whilst eating nothing but crap. Oh, the irony.
I failed to participate in any extreme activity while there, unless eating counts. But some of the spry, young folk knee boarded and wake boarded. The little ones had a good time playing in the water and on the beautiful red sand beach (FYI, red sand may be fun to play in, but it is hecka hard to get out of clothes).
Boating has always been "our" family activity. Growing up, some of my fondest memories are of going to the lake and swimming and skiing and getting pulled on the tubes. It has been a while since the whole fam has partook, partaken...whatever, participated in this beloved activity from the past, but I certainly hope it isn't a while until we do it again.
Sunday, the entire family, went to Nikki's ward to listen to Austin speak. It's always a joy to listen to Austin. He talked about the last six months he spent in China studying. For those of you who don't know Austin, he's totally rad...and totally my nephew. He got home a year ago from a "mish" to Taiwan. After six months at college, Yale to be precise, he went to study abroad in China. This kid is totally the "shiz", I mean, he had President Hu (that's the chinese president) come visit him at his dorm room.
I could boast on and on, but I'll stop. And just FYI, my whole fam is the "shiz".
Oh, and church was great.
Later on in the day we dined on BBQ'd ribs, and chicken parts... all thanks to Nikki and Max (another "shiz-a-listic" nephew. He's bound to be the next Bobby Flay. Yum yum.)
The evening was topped off with a few other family favorites...The Dictionary Game, What If, and Would You Rather. Good times. Don't worry Al, you don't have cankles and Richard isn't really your dad. But it sure is fun to joke about it.
Thanks to Nikki and Matt for the usage of their boat and thanks to Courtney and Mandy for the usage of theirs. And thanks to everyone: Clare, Alicia, Alex, Taylor, Lindsay, Mason, Nikki, Matt, Austin, Max, Tayana, Kendyl, Cam, Gary and Michele, Court and Mandy, Kelly and Andrea for making this past weekend hecka fun. I laughed my big (from all the crap snacking) @$* off.
See ya all at Christmas?

Ken and Cam. What a couple'a hotties.

Taylor and Alex. More, fresh-faced, young hotties.

The Miller Clan: Nikki, Austin, Zak, Matt and Max.

Ummm...some Cuban refugees? Nah, just my family.

Ashlyn, the mermaid...NOW SING.

Fun in the sun..and sand.

Rachel the mermaid.

Hey look kids...Molly's nipple (No, I am not being crass...geographically correct).

Ainsley and Ivy...what a couple'a cuties.

See what gluttony can do (Notice the smaller fish sticking out of the bigger fish's mouth. It was quite the attraction).

Beckham...my only child not terrified of water.

Little Ali...sooo cute. I may have to have another baby just to borrow her darling swimsuit.

Slumber Party!

2008-09-03T11:24:00.000-07:00

So, I said I was going to have a slumber party with the kiddies, which I did. Not my brightest idea. I use the term "slumber" loosely, very loosely. It was more of a "totally tick mom off" party. The kids didn't really want to go to sleep (which I did, because I had to get up in the morning and get the car packed and ready to go to St. George...by myself...alone with the kids...all four of them. I know, I'm a saint:)).
Finally, once they were asleep they all proceeded to play musical bed spots. The girls have this thing about sleeping by me. Either they have some major separation issues, or they really, really love me. Anyway, everywhere I went...there they were. There was also the little game of "blanket tug-o-war" and "who can cole cock mama in the face". The combination of all these things does not make for a very sound slumber. Frankly, I am shocked we made it to St. George alive. Driving makes me sleepy on a good day, let alone a day following the worst night's sleep imaginable.
Thankfully, the kids don't read my blog, so they will never know my true feelings regarding our little "slumber" party. They may, however, begin to wonder when they ask to have another one and I fall to the floor and curl up in the fetal position. But, we'll just deal with that when the time comes.

Sorry the pictures are a little blurry.

Before. See the nice, long space there on the left side of the bed. That was to be my spot.

After. Notice how the sleeping arrangments have changed. Also notice how MY SPACE somehow shrunk to a quarter of the size.

First Day(s) of School.

2008-08-27T10:34:00.000-07:00

First day(s) of school was a doozy (I had three of them this year). I wasn't really anticipating feeling so abandoned and I'm still scratching my head, trying to figure out why. I mean, I should be jumping for joy, skipping and frolicking around the neighborhood with all the other school mommy's right?
All summer long I had been looking forward to the kids going back to school...to getting back into a routine and to having a little time to myself. I was excited to have just one at home...ahh, the freedom...to run errands without feeling like I was herding sheep.
But, I have been very sad, and very nostalgic this go around.
Watching Carter hop out of the car and run off to join his buddies hurt my heart. I can't believe how old and big he's getting. It seems like just yesterday he was cuddled up against me on the couch watching T.V. and now he's asking about cell phones and I-pods.
And Quinn...she's in the third grade now and eight years old (and almost recently baptized...it's a sore subject...I can't let it go).
And then, sending my little Avers off to Kindi-garten about gave me a coronary. She's very bright and easily prone to boredom, so I thought surely both she and I would be ready for school. I was excited for her. She'd been acting like she couldn't wait...at least up until a few days before the big day. But then a she had to go and get all sentimental on me, saying things like, "mom, I'm gonna miss you" and "mom, three hours is a long time to be away", and "will you miss me too"? My predicted response should have gone something like, "frankly luv, no, no I am not going to miss you because three hours is barely enough time for me to get showered and dressed, let alone accomplish anything else."
Then she would most likely cry at my bluntness, and I'd try to soothe her by saying "just kidding honey"...even though I wasn't, "I am going to miss you too, but three hours will whiz by sooooo fast"...too fast if you ask me.
But, instead, I found myself responding much the same as Avery..."Yes, sis, I am going to miss you", "will you miss me too", "three hours seems like a long time, but don't worry, you'll be having so much fun, it will fly by"...then you'll be back home, safe, with me.
I'm not sure what has gotten into me. I am sentimental about pretty much everything nowadays. I think I am just realizing that my babies are growing up...and so am I. I am having a hard time accepting that.
Can I really be turning thirty-two? Have I really been married for almost a decade and a half? Is that really a crow's foot in the corner of my eye?
I used to huff and puff at all the kiddie toys strewn about the house, but now I find myself not wanting to put them away for fear they may never make an appearance again.
When I first began the journey that is motherhood, I remember people telling me "enjoy them, they grow up fast". Then, once their back was turned I'd roll my eyes at them. Now, I totally know what they were saying. And, I should have listened to that advice a little better.
I should have spent less time trying to hurry my babies along when they wanted to turn every gumball machine dial at the grocery store. I should have spent less time telling them to clean up their toys and more time watching them as they took in every new experience. I should have held on to them a little longer before making them get back in to their big boy/big girl bed. Crap, why can't there be a rewind button for those of us who are a little slow.
I can only hope that my hastiness hasn't permanently damaged my little babies. Hopefully, they won't come back when they are older and tell me how robbed they feel of their childhood because "someone" was always in a hurry, or making them clean up, or whatever else. Hopefully, I can make up for that lost time now, by showing my kids how much I love them and how much I want them to be just kids.
Well, I've reminisced enough. You know, this is way cheaper than a shrink, so thanks for listening, err, reading.
I'm off to have a slumber party with my lovies.

See what I mean. The kid all but jumped out of the moving car so he could go "hang" with his "homies". I'm lucky I even got one picture.

Hey wait, come back. Please...sob, sob.

Avers (lookin' a little anxious) and dad.

Avers and mom...(keep it together gurl, don't make mama cry in public).

Smiling...that's always a good sign. I take it the first day went okay.

Quinny, dad and Beckham. Not an ounce of trepidation.

All I can say is sorry...for the unflattering shirt, and the muffin boobies.

Ahh, he does has feelings...me next.

Too too cute tutu's.

2008-08-22T12:53:00.000-07:00

Here are some pics of the girls' tutu's. I love how ridiculously full and fluffy they are.

Avery's black cat tutu (front).

(back)

Quinn's leopard tutu (front).

(back)

Here comes Halloween!

2008-08-21T18:25:00.000-07:00

Those of you who know me, know how much I love fall. Quite frankly, I'm a little late in the game this year. I usually start decorating for autumn July 25th. The past few weeks have been a little busy...refer to previous post...so I haven't had time to "trim" the home til now.
Anyway, today, in all my fall/halloween/harvest time giddiness I completed three costumes...a spider, a cheetah and a black cat.
My PIC's (partners in crime...Karissa and Jen...aka sassy mama and hottie tottie) are just as excited as I for the upcoming holiday it appears. This morning we all went to Wally's and bought boat loads of tulle to make tutu's for our girlies. Except for a slightly achey back and the occasional twinge of pain in my metacarpals (from all of the tulle cutting) I had a great time today making tutu's for the girl's costumes. I shall post pics soon.
I really must have gotten caught up in all the Halloween excitement because last night I bought four costumes. And then today I purchased ten, pumpkin soup bowls, a large pumpkin soup tourine, and a pumpkin pie plate.
Mum's the word on this most recent purchase. I have been forbidden by the ol' man from buying anymore dishes. A little tip...if you leave your unfavorable purchases in the trunk of the car or at a PIC's house for a week or two, then you don't have to blatantly lie when the ol' man asks, for example, if those pumpkin bowls are new. I can confidently look him in the eye and say, "actually, no babe, I've had them for a while...but thanks for noticing". Buhlieve me when I say this tip's a life saver.
I know it's a little early for some of you...but, HAPPY HALLOWEENIE, anyway.

Absent.

2008-08-04T16:38:00.000-07:00

Wow!. I feel a little like the prodigal daughter returning the fold. I am a little embarrassed and a lot sorry for my sudden and unpardonable departure.
Much has happened since my last post. I started and finished Breaking Dawn, "almost" baptized my second born, had a little "preggers" scare (TMI, I know...something about blogging just brings it out of me), sent my third born off to school, watched a boat load of reality TV (does Tori Spelling look like a "dude" or is it just me?), started soccer and dance, bought tickets to the Weezer concert, wrote a talk for Sacrament meeting, visited my best friend from high school (gurl you crack me up...it was so much fun to see you, your mom and your three little monkeys...oh and I hope you had a great bday), started making Halloween costumes for the kiddies and started decorating my house for said holiday (remember, if you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all...I love Halloween and figured since all the stores have started putting out Halloween decorations,so should I...so, stop rolling your eyes). I suppose I should take my own advice...that bit about Mister, I mean Misses Spelling was not nice...my apologies. I hope I haven't offended any Tori Spelling lovers.
That's all for now.

Fashion Show.

2008-07-28T19:07:00.001-07:00

When I was a kid, my niece and I used to put on "back to school fashion shows" for our parents and grandparents...much to their delight, I'm sure.
Anyway, when I mentioned this to the kids, they were all over it. What hams. I wonder where they get it from?
So, in lieu of the new school year (which started today for Carter) I give you the first annual Brendle Back To School Fashion Show.

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