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Showing posts from December, 2008

Summing Up

a year in review.
this year we: flew, drove, swam, moved, got a puppy, blogged, cried, loved, learned, dreamed, shared, complained, visited, gave, received.
this year we visted: new mexico, new york, ohio, arizona, california, disneyland, grandma’s, great grandpa’s new place, el morro, michigan’s u.p.
we loved seeing: the beach, cousins, aunt nancy, uncle george, aunt mary jane, grandparents, long-missed gerhart relatives, the country through our car windows, big california mountains, cha-cha’s new house, friends in new mexico, picture rocks national park, escanaba, fall colors.
we lost some who we love: great grandma and grandpa, uncle jim.
we did some other things: eric won employee of the quarter, sarah sang in a concert choir, josh joined the lego league, carly flipped and sang and danced.
we all got older: eric turned 38, sarah turned 31, josh hit double digits – 10, and carly turned 3.
we met some goals and fell short of others, we plan to try again in 2009
happiest of days to you a…

one of THOSE days


The dog threw up on the freshly vacuumed floor.

Carly yelled at Josh.

Josh yelled at Carly.

I yelled at Carly.

I yelled at Josh.

Eric forgot to put the garbage on the curb. Again.

Josh didn't put up the flag on the mailbox so the bills didn't get mailed.

2 drinks got knocked over by the dog.

1 bag of popcorn got spilled.

Carly climbed up on the counter.

Carly played in the sink.

Carly changed clothes at least 4 times, I stopped counting.

Carly ate prunes and liked it.

Eric yelled at Josh.

Josh and Carly talked to their grandparents on the phone about how rotten they were.

Josh didn't flush the toilet. As usual.

I washed 1 load of laundry.

The dog jumped on Josh. Repeatedly. Josh was mad.

Josh yelled at the dog.

Josh blew a raspberry in Eric's face.

Eric was mad.

Eric yelled at Carly.

Poppa yelled at Carly.

Carly cried.

A lot.

Today was not a fun day.

But now I am going to go sing some songs, read some books and send the kids to dream land.

Tomorrow we start the dance again.

Taking Stock

A new year is fast approaching. Can you feel it sneaking up on you? It wears socks so that you don't realize it is so very close until it pounces, knocking all the air out so that you are forced to exhale.

Funny how we take an accounting at the end of the year instead of stopping along the way to shift our course. Well, at least I do. I notice the time going by, the quickness of it, the fleeting moments that vanish like snowflakes on a too-warm day. But it is now, in the final week of a waning year, when I really start to see how much has changed. Or how much has stayed the same.

In the year I was turning 30 (not this year but last) my biggest goal was to get fit. Not thin, or skinny or any of those things. I'm genetically coded not to be those things I think. (Or perhaps I tell myself so to make me feel better.) I fell pitifully, woefully short. Do you want to know what happened? At the start of the summer I dropped 15 lbs without really trying. I just did it. And…

Monday deserves a pink slip

You know that sinking feeling that comes at the end of a weekend? That little ball of dread that says:

Tomorrow is Monday.

You have to get up early. Your husband is going to work. Your kids won't wait, the errands you put off are calling your name, and the floor needs cleaning. Desperately. Don't forget that your bills need paid (they are probably overdue thanks to vigirous pushing out of your mind) and all this needs to be done with a child (or 2) under foot. Or on your hip. Or pulling on your arm. Or crying. Probably the dog too.

Tomorrow is Monday.

And your sister is going home. You have to drive her to the airport, even though you don't want to. Not because it is far out of the way (it is) but because you love her like she is part of yourself, and just sitting here thinking about the empty space she'll be leaving feels like your heart might stop beating. You have to hug her goodbye and then hold on to how it felt. You have to blink the blurry tears out of your eyes bec…


If you're Mormon you know exactly what sealing is, if you're not it is a little harder to explain.

In our church we believe that the family relationship can last much longer than "til death do us part." In fact, the whole purpose of life on earth is to come, learn, create family relationships and then return to Heavenly Father after death. After death there is no vision of harps and eternal floating on clouds. Oh, no. This little journey to earth is but a blip on the screen. After this, who knows? Adventures await!

I like to think that when I die there will be a whole gaggle of people just waiting to grab my hand and pull me through. Today at 2 p.m. we took that long awaited, necessary, joyous step of sealing Carly to us forever and ever. And much beyond that. Today, Carly is ours in the eyes of the law, in the eyes of God and bound to my heart with unbreakable ties.

This has been an amazing Christmas. Having Charlotte here was our first wonderful gift. Hou…

Four for Friday, Hand Made Edition

Has anyone ever noticed that Hand Made sounds miles better than Home Made? Maybe it's just me.

Four things that are Hand Made and Home Made too.

1. Christmas Apple Pie made with tart and tangy Granny Smiths, just look at that mile high crust! Thanks to my mother who taught me the fine art of pie-making and my sister who fixed the crust that I made too dry.

2. Gingerbread houses - Cha-Cha has honed her gingerbread making skills to a fine art we glady put to use to produce these fine creations. (Notice on Candy Lane there is a home foreclosure up for sale. Sadly, hooligans have egged the joint!) I think, perhaps, a new Christmas Eve tradition is born in the T House!

3. I love me a good quilt and I'm fortunate enough to have a couple of good quilt makers in the family. When Eric's mother passed away there were some shirts and things that were either too worn out or to dear for me to give away. Cha-Cha took those clothes home to CA and made them into not 1, but 3 quilts f…

Paint the corners of my mind

We're busy here building lots of fun memories, like swepping and mooping, epiphany's, and the like. My sister has discovered my dirty little secret too (not THAT secret, she actually already knows and will be partaking):

I am severely destitute in the household item department.

Sis: Do you have an iron?
Me: No.

Sis: Do you have a pastry cutter?
Me: Uhh, no.

Sis: I'm not even going to ask if you have drying racks.
Me: No, I don't. I do have this glass thing in my cabinet, the one by where the plates are.
Sis: What?

Sis: Do you have an ironing board?
Me: I don't have an iron, so no.

Me: Oooo look an ergonomic seam ripper.
Sis: Are you trying to tell me you want that?
Me: Well I don't have one.
Sis: ...

Me: I don't have a waffle iron.
Sis: I know I gave you one of those at some point.
Me: Well I don't have one now.

Sharp scissors? Nope, I use mine to cut paper. Thread? Nope, at least not the kind you use on a sewing machine. Frosting bags? Salt? Vanilla? Yard stick?…

And there was great wailing and gnashing of teeth

At church I teach a class of kids that are 7 turning 8.

I can say without a doubt that it is the best class. Ever.

These kids sit and listen, ask questions, read scriptures and participate in the lesson. They aren't bored yet, they are still scared enough of me to do what I say, and they have curious minds. It's been 1 full year of bliss. Well, as close to bliss as you can get in Primary.

I think Heavenly Father must think I'm too comfortable.

Because I got put with the 4 turning 5 year old class for next year.

You know, that age when they're jumping out of their skin by the end of church, they are trying out new fun words and phrases on you, and they basically only want to know if they're getting a treat of some kind. Cutting paper is an acceptable treat, especially if it's paper that's important. Like, say, your scriptures.

I can't say I'm happy about it. At least they didn't give me Carly's class, I think my reputation as a 'nice person'…

Once upon a time

A maiden fair came to live in our house.

She was little, but she grew.

She was spunky, that grew too.

She was sweet, that's usually still in the mix.

She was cuddly, that's never going to change (cross your fingers).

She was perfect.

Perfect for us.

One day her mom and dad decided to give her a Christmas present unlike any other.

They knew exactly what to get her.

They had to work really hard to get it.

They had help from the handsome prince that lived across the hall from the fair maiden.

They sang songs.

They prayed.

They dreamed and schemed.

Next Saturday, December 27 at 2 p.m. we're going to unwrap that long over-due present.

Do you know how lucky I am?

I have an inkling. My baby daughter is sitting in my lap.

Sure, just a few minutes ago she was crying about how much she wanted her Daddy. She has already started using phrases like "I don't want you" and "I don't need you" and the ever-popular "You're mean!"

Carly likes to rub her hand down my cheek. She likes to tuck her head into the crook of my neck. She likes to curl up against me and shimmy as close as possible without crawling under my skin. I suppose that is what heaven feels like.

Sometimes she likes to cling a little too much, but I get over it.

I will never forget the awful day when our enchanted world ran smack dab into reality. For the longest day of my life I thought it was all over, that my time as Carly's mother was over. Our adoption agency worker came to our house and told us that someone had filed an anonymous report with the State. It said that we had a broken window (sadly true at the time but it was the storm wind…

Baking Happy

For the perfect Christmascookies, follow this simple recipe:


Be sure that you

You might need to sing a little to get it just right.

Bake it up, lick it up, clean it up.

Four for Friday, vol 17

Four things I actually like about winter:

1.Falling snow.

2.Christmas carols.

3.Christmas lights.

4. Christmas

(It was harder to come up with this list than you might think.)

Four things I don't like about winter:

1. Never ending gray skies.

2. Cold.

3. Dirty snow.

4. Slick roads.

(This list could be much longer and was really easy to come up with.)

Let that be a lesson to you

Dear Self,

Be glad your fiction doesn't have a following. (For the record, I really truly in my heart of hearts wish it had a following. And I wish I made tons of money off of it so I wouldn't have to borrow money or sweat bullets when it's not yet payday. But apparently I don't wish it so much to sit down and force myself to write for an hour a day yet. But it's almost to that point. Almost.)

You will in fact get an eye infection in your other eye if you continue to use old contacts and are frequently too lazy to take them out at night. (Maybe bloodshot eyes will make me look mysterious. Probably more like drugged, but a girl can hope.)

If the dog ran downstairs really fast and didn't come back when you called her, that's probably bad. (And smelly.)

When the spelling word list for the week looks too advanced it probably is. The solution IS NOT to study for it only on the night before, but rather to study all week long. (You know, for the future.)


If I didn't have kids

My life would be a lot free-er.

I wouldn't have my own moving parade wherever I go.

I would spend more money on stuff I don't need instead of stuff they don't need.

I'd probably have a job.

I wouldn't have to get up at 8 a.m. so that Josh can go to school.

I'd have more breakable Christmasornaments.

I wouldn't have a milk stain on my carpet. A giant white milk stain on green carpet, that is.

I wouldn't have to repeat myself so often.

I wouldn't have to repeat myself SO OFTEN.

I would have a much smaller dinosaur knowledge base.

iCarly and I would have a less personal relationship.

I would not have just watched a Hannah Montana preview.

I probably wouldn't have googled 'finger nail painting machine', in particular I was looking for this.

I would have a chair to myself.

I wouldn't step on legos. Well, not as often anyhow.

I'd go to the movies more often.

I would have a smaller laundry pile.

I wouldn't have to say "leave the dog alone!&qu…

Things I forgot to do today....again

Call That Girl

Wish my super amazing SIL Angie a Happy Birthday (your gift will be in forthcoming box this month sometime, I hope)

Make my bed (I wouldn't exactly call it forgetting though...)

Send pizza party money to Josh's school

Spend an hour writing (It's my new thing, I've yet to actually try it)

Work on Christmas cards (I could at least address the envelopes or something)

Bring the laundry basket downstairs

Let the dog out

Let the dog in, poor cold goggie

Vacuum the family room (convenient eh?)

Ask about piano lessons

Call about tutors

Spellcheck before hitting publish

Are you beginning to wonder if I remembered to do anything? Me too!

Little Testimonies

Once a month at church we have a meeting called Fast and Testimony Meeting. After taking the sacrament, members of the congregation are invited to share their testimony of gospel truths from the pulpit. The first testimony yesterday was about 'little testimonies'. Little testimonies are those times when the Lord works for us in small ways, like finding lost items or prompting us in other every day kind of ways.

Tithing has always been a hard spot for our family. It's not that we don't want to give back 10% to the Lord, it's just that we always seem to be in need of every dime. We've been blessed with a great job for Eric and pay raises over the years, but we've also increased our spending (foolish mortals). Now with the price of everything on the rise, the gap between necessary costs and frivolous purchases is shrinking even more. It can be a struggle to write that check when you know that you've got X amount of dollars to last the week and you need gas,…

Four for Friday, vol 16

Four things I hope Santa brings me (not including that other wish list item):
1.A griddle. We don't have one, we've never had one in all our married life. It's almost pathetic. I'm not dreaming of sugar plums, I'm dreaming of making french toast and grilled cheese sandwiches without using every frying pan we own. Likelihood I'll receive this gift according to the Santatometer: Very good. 2.A new jewelry box, a big one with a lock. And pretty too. Eric's mom bought me a very nice, smallish one about 5 years ago. I love it but the key got lost in our last move so that it is now Carly's treasure playground. I actually don't mind a bit that Carly plays with most of the stuff in there but with the recent acquisition of some of my Grandmother's jewelry, I'd like a lock and key. Santatometer says: Chances are slim. 3.A stand up mixer. I've wanted one for a really long time but can't justify the cost with how non-frequently I would use…

Trying something new

I got to have dinner with llegue the other day at my brother's house. Between eating delicious food, playing sculptionary, and admiring her two beautiful children, we talked about a few things. Like politics, and Twilight, and blogging. Her husband, Jerry - who I've known for almost 20 years now a really long time was also there, but he's not really important to the story and apparently doesn't read my blog. What a slacker.

llegue said she doesn't see how I can blog so often. The answer is pretty easy: I ignore my children, my housewife duties and all other related responsibilities so that I can write junk.

Don't playa hate, my method has gotten me this far hasn't it?

In keeping with my method, I created a blog that will be just for posting my scribblin's. You know, that stuff I write that I would love someday to get published. Unfortunately you have to actually finish a project to get it published. Oh, and there is that part about submitting it to agents…

A funny thing happened on the way to the airport

Ethan (my nephew): When I'm bigger I'm going to fly on a plane.
Me: Where will you go?
Ethan: On Southwest.
Me: But where will you go?
Ethan: On Southwest.
Me: Where will Southwest take you?
Ethan: To see Jesus. And there will be a Chuck E Cheese and I'll get tickets.
Me: I don't think there is a Chuck E Cheese on Southwest.
Ethan: Yes there is.


Josh: Some states have funny laws. Like in New Mexico you can't have a certain kind of pickle.
Me: What?
Josh: You can't have the pickles I like in New Mexico.
Me: Yes you can.
Josh: But Uncle Ben said they're illegal.
Me: I think Uncle Ben was kidding.
Josh: No, Uncle Ben said that the kind of pickles I like are illegal.
Me: I think Uncle Ben tricked you.
Josh: (mouth open, dawning comprehension) Ohhh.
Me: He got you good, huh?
(Josh likes dill pickles, btw)


If ever, by chance, 2 three year olds are in the other room being much too quiet it is quite likely they are eating an entire advent calendar's chocolates.

Me: Did…

Packing Up

My sister, Queen of Legos, Cha-Cha, rocket scientist, universally accepted favorite went home today. She is probably in flight about now, watching the patchwork stream by below her, or maybe sleeping, possibly reading a book, or most likely is engaged in some kind of industrious activity. Joshua cried when she left even though she will be at our house for Christmas in three long short weeks. I put on a brave face.

This visit marked a true Thanksgiving for our family. In addition to mounds of food (which I did not help cook), we all grinned at a pie that had "Bud + Dot" (my Grandparents nicknames) poked into it's crust. Aunt Nancy, Uncle George and Aunt Mary Jane spent the day with us, played spoons and consequences, and generally reminded me how lucky I am with every blink of their eyes. There was also a moment where my Aunt Nancy looked exactly-to-a-t like my Grandmother and I almost called my Aunt Mary Jane by my sister's name.

Sprinkled into our visit were a few bit…