Scenes from a Mall

I went to the mall today. I generally hate the mall and the week before Christmas I hate it even more. But my six year old boy has requested fancy church clothes and Walmart was just not going to cut it this time. I have no idea when (or if) another request like that will escape the lips of my sweet, dirt-loving boy ever again so I needed to jump at the chance.

While a trip to the mall can be an extremely frustrating experience as a shopper, I've learned I can have fun if I approach the outing as an observer of people and culture.

Some observations I made today:

What is it about Christmas that suddenly makes people want to purchase gigantic shelf stable sausages for people? I don't get it.

The folks over at Dillards have not grasped the idea of SALE. Oh they try, they put up those cute red signs like everyone else but "Mix and Match Sleepwear separates, 2 for $48" is just nuts!

I really feel for the sales people who work at those little kiosks in the middle of the mall that have to approach people as they pass and give them a sales pitch, but I have almost "boy short" length hair--I'm not interested in your new fangled curling iron.

The store entitled "Asian Gifts" is not an appropriate place to buy gifts. . .for ANYONE. . .ever.

Oh and to the dude with the mullet trying to look all casual and nonchalant walking around with that bright pink Victoria's Secret bag: Um. . .yeah, we ARE all staring at you. You might as well be wearing a t-shirt that says "I'm hoping to get some for Christmas."

Drastic Change!

I've been wanting to cut my hair for a long time. I was getting sick and tired of dealing with my long locks but I put off cutting it because life was so crazy that I needed the option of just putting it up in a ponytail.
Turns out my new do is even easier than that. I can go from wet to done in six minutes!

What I Learned in the Fire

It was one year ago this week that we opened our business. Which would be a pretty impressive milestone were it not for the fact that last week we officially closed!

We were at a cross roads and decided it would be better for our family in the long run to get out while we still had some money and sanity left. Because honestly, if we had continued much further we would have quickly run out of both!

Don't feel bad for us. We don't feel bad for us.

Although it wasn't a profitable experience as far as money is concerned, we gained a wealth of knowledge this past year--things we needed to learn and probably couldn't have learned any other way.

Now more than ever I believe that the purpose of this life is to refine us through our trials. That "refiners fire" that everyone is always talking about is so crucial to this mortal experience even though it can sometimes feel unbearably hot.

Here are just a few of the important lessons that the refiners fire of owning a small business has taught me:

* Just because the Lord wants you to do something doesn't mean he's going to make it easy for you. Nor does it mean that it's going to turn out like you expected.

* If you feel your prayers aren't being answered it may be necessary to change the question.

* "Venting" your negative emotions is better left to prayer. Give those thoughts, emotions and stresses to the Lord. He will give you more peace than a hundred tantrums ever could.

* There is strength to be had in recognizing your own weaknesses. You may need to just embrace who you are, give up on trying to be who you think you ought be and celebrate the you that is!

* Everyone makes mistakes, but don't make it worse by also making excuses. Own it and move on.

* The Lord doesn't care about money--And he may let you lose a lot of it to teach you what is really important!

* The statement "winners never quit and quitters never win" is a lie. Winners quit all the time. The trick is knowing WHEN to quit and being clear in your motivations when you do.

* Running a struggling business and being unemployed pay about the same! :)

We're still trying to figure out what is next for us. We're taking a little time to regroup right now. Fortunately we have options. I am extremely optimistic about what lies ahead. I'm open to just about anything. I'm not scared to take chances and I'm not afraid to think outside of my own box.

I guess I learned that in the fire too.

Overheard at Macey's

I made the mistake of going grocery shopping at Macey's at about 7 pm on Friday. I naively thought that the store would be more deserted on a weekend evening. Yeah, I'm sometimes that dumb.

The store was packed. They were hosting some sort of tailgate party for the BYU game, plus it was the case lot sale, plus there were dozens of families there for cheap ice cream cones in the deli. I very nearly turned around and left when I realized how crowded it was, but I hadn't been to the store in over a week and we only had about a half cup of milk in the house. I decided just to take my time and do what needed to be done.

I ended up having a delightful experience. I got my own cheap ice cream cone and wandered around the store eavesdropping as I shopped. I learned a few new things.

I am not making any of this up.

From the two teenage boy checkers who s-l-o-w-l-y checked out my case goods during the breaks in their conversation:
"Dude you totally need to get out of the virgin lip club."
"Yeah, I know. It's so weird though, cuz like it's a good thing for boys to get out of the club, but girls are supposed to stay in the club. It's like they don't want to get out. When boys get out they have a party with their friends."
"My seminary teacher said it's good to kiss. We're supposed to."

What the heck?

From the two college girls wandering around the produce section:
"I don't want pesticides on my food. I like might grow another leg or something."

Huh? (These same girls were later complaining that they had to buy an entire bunch of celery when they only needed two stalks. Heaven forbid they eat extra celery!)

And from the disembodied voices of two employees chatting on the other side of the dairy case:
"The people in Guatemala don't know anything about Walmart. I asked them and they were like, 'What's that?'"

Seriously? You asked them all?

I think I'm going to shop at night more often.

Labor Day

I don't generally post things here about outings with my family. But that's just because they are so rare!
Yesterday we decided to take a bona fide holiday and go somewhere fun with the kids. We decided this around noon and packed a quick lunch, jumped in the car and headed toward the canyon. We drove about half of the Alpine Loop, stopped at Cascade Springs and finished the day at Bridal Veil falls. It was great.
We have found that spontaneous outings are often the best!

Lessons from the Lawn

I think mowing the lawn is a wonderful thing. The combination of fresh cut grass, gasoline and sweat is what good hard work smells like. I find that sweeping back and forth across the yard, making real noticeable progress with every pass of the blades, is rather cathartic for me. But I haven't always felt that way.

Three years ago when we found out my husband was deploying with the Army and would be gone for two summers, the initial response of many well-meaning friends was, "We'll mow your lawn for you." It was like a knee jerk reaction to hearing the news. And about half the time that first summer I did get help with my lawn. Our young men's group came by a couple of times. My friends next door or the neighbors behind us would often cross the property line and mow my lawn as they did their own. I enlisted the help of brothers and nephews a time or two. But people had their own lawns--and frankly, their own lives--to worry about and I found the task of mowing the lawn falling on my shoulders much more often than I thought it would.

Now, mind you, I knew how to mow the lawn just fine on my own, but every time I did it I would quietly cry. Not because it was hard but because having to do it after being promised by so many that it would be taken care of, made me feel abandoned, forgotten and extremely lonely. It came to symbolize everything that was so difficult about my situation.

The second summer of the deployment was a completely different story. By that point I had already made it through an entire year--the most difficult year of my life. A year that was fraught with stress and pain. A year that made me figure out who I am without my companion by my side. A year that taught me what I'm really capable of. Mowing the lawn came to symbolize my independence, my ability to take care of things on my own and in some strange way, my own strength to endure hard things.

I'm not about to open a yard care business or anything, but I don't mind mowing the lawn now. Sometimes I quite enjoy it. It's great to see how quickly my yard goes from looking like an unruly jungle to a neat and ordered space. In fact, at times it seems like it's one of the only aspects of my life that I can really control!

Foodaholic

Hello. My name is Sarah and I'm a foodaholic.

Seriously. I think I have a problem. You wouldn't know by looking at me because I'm blessed with the world's best metabolism, but I'm a raging junk food junkie. It's like I'm a real life Lorelai Gilmore. And it goes back many many years. I hate to think about how much money I fed into the high school vending machine (sorry mom!). I recall rewarding myself with Symphony Almond and Toffee chocolate bars almost daily during college. And the M&Ms, french fries and soda I've consumed over my lifetime. . .OH THE HUMANITY!

There has always been a disturbing disconnect between what I know about proper eating and what I actually do. I find food science fascinating and have read numerous books and articles on the subject. But despite all that I know I can't keep snacky urges in check. This afternoon I read an article describing how for some people the dopamine in the brain that is set off by the consumption of fatty foods is similar to the levels found when taking illicit drugs.

Um . ..I think that would be me.

I think what is really becoming obvious, and is therefore totally starting to bug me, is the fact that at times I even act like an addict when it comes to junk food.

On Saturday nights I make sure there is enough soda in the house to get me through Sunday. If there's not, I find an excuse to run to the store or at least check to see if we have limeade in the freezer so that I can get my sweet drink fix.

I hide treats from my family. I tell myself that it's for their own good--you know, the Army requires hubby to be fit and the kids' brains are still developing etc. etc.--but really I just don't want to share.

I love to make cookies and I do it all the time. But I'm a Mormon woman. That's what we do, right? We bake cookies and call it fellowshipping. Most of the time I start out with the intention of giving them away to the neighbors or to my visiting teaching sisters, but more often than not we eat them all before they even make it off the cooling rack.

I always make sure I have at least $1.07 on me at all times so I can stop and get a value menu Jr. Bacon Cheese Burger (or Whopper Jr or McDouble) if the urge comes upon me. And if I were to be totally honest this happens several times a week, although I don't always indulge (I can't if the kids are with me!).

I could go on, but I'll stop because it's embarrassing me.

I had a disturbing addict moment the other day that is still bugging me. I was sitting in McDonald's with my dollar cheese burger and large soda and happened to notice a friend of mine come in with two of her kids. This friend is classy and intelligent and European so to see her in McDonald's, ordering from the dollar menu, totally made me feel better--and I told her so. She probably thought I was nuts. Later as I thought about it I came to the startling realization that I was feeling GUILTY for being there and that seeing her there too somehow justified it in my own mind.

Doesn't that seem just a bit twisted to you?

I'd really like to close this post with some kind of resolve to swear off sugar, eat only leafy greens and banish empty calorie drinks. But I'm not ready to do that, although I'll let you know when I am. Knowing you have a problem is half the battle, right? (Yeah, the easy half, I know.)

I'm going to go make a pizza now, perhaps I'll throw some green peppers on there to make it healthy!

Age of Innocence

This is my sweet daughter. She is in the funnest stage right now. She has always been super chatty(at least at home)but now she really has something to say and conversations with her are rather entertaining. In some ways she seems wise beyond her years, yet at times I am reminded just how young and innocent she is.

Yesterday we were having a conversation about relationships and she said,"I've never heard you and daddy fight and yell at each other." I responded,"You're right. Dad and I don't yell at each other but that doesn't mean we always agree on everything." She said, "Yeah, like Dad likes to eat cold honey butter on warm bread and you like both to be warm."

If that's her best recollection of us disagreeing than we must be doing something right!(or at least hiding things really well!)

She also recently asked me what an X-rated movie was. (Where she ever heard the term I'll never know.) I explained that it's a movie that is full of "a lot of bad stuff." She said, "Oh do the people say bad words and wear immodest clothes?"

Yeah, immodest clothes. That's it.

I've just been thinking about how pure she is--totally unspotted from the world. She's not even accountable yet. I often joke that she acts like a teenager already with her karaoke machine and sassy fashion sense, but she is still very much a little girl who likes to play with dolls and have tea parties. A little girl whose view of life is so hopeful and uncomplicated.

How do I help her hang on to that innocence as she heads into the approaching years? How do I shelter her without being overprotective? The world of her teenage years will be so different than mine was.

Actually, I think I know what I need to do. I just pray that I'm up to the challenge.

Random Complaining

I used to consider myself a fairly optimistic upbeat kind of person but I think the older I get the more critical I have become and the more annoyed I am with silly things. Here are just a few ridiculous complaints I have recently made.

I find it dumb that two of the three judges on America's Got Talent aren't even Americans, and the third judge is David Hasslehoff who is himself devoid of talent. So all three judges are totally unqualified. Which I suppose would explain why a yodeling dominatrix and a dance troupe of transvestites made the quarter finals and the girl who could sing while playing the harp was axed.

I resent all of the coupons and "helpful" information sent to me on an almost daily basis from the baby formula companies. I think what bugs me is that they profess to be pro-breastfeeding--giving nursing tips and hailing the virtues of breast milk--even though everyone knows they don't want mothers to breastfeed at all! They just want to be top of mind should you decide to ween. Baby formula is big business. I find their marketing a bit sinister. So just give me my free diaper bag and leave me alone! :)

And what's with shutting down the grocery store that is just three blocks from my house?! Granted that store was kind of old and more than a little creepy, but it was familiar and convenient and I had come to depend on it. Of course, there are about five other places to shop within ten minutes of my house, but not being able to quickly run grab that one missing item for a recipe or leave to return redbox movies at 8:52 pm is starting to really bug me!

OK, enough griping. I'll be more positive next time I post I promise!

Quote of the Day

I saw the following quote posted on the wall at my dentist office this morning. (Yes I know, "only in Utah") It think it's one of my new favorites:

"Anyone who imagines that bliss is normal is going to waste a lot of time running around shouting that he has been robbed. The fact is that most putts don’t drop, most beef is tough, most children grow up to be just like people, most successful marriages require a high degree of mutual toleration, and most jobs are more often dull than otherwise. Life is just like an old time rail journey ... delays, sidetracks, smoke, dust, cinders, and jolts, interspersed only occasionally by beautiful vistas and thrilling bursts of speed. The trick is to thank the Lord for letting you have the ride."
— Gordon B. Hinckley

I sure miss him sometimes.

My Hero

I love the 4th of July. I always have. I love singing patriotic songs, even though they make me cry. I love the parade, crazy as it is. I love seeing the sky full of hot air balloons. I love a huge fireworks show, although I think do-it-yourself fireworks are lame.
We weren't able to do much to be super festive this year, the baby is too little and I'm still recovering, but we had a fun afternoon at a picnic with cousins.
Later that evening I stood in my driveway with my husband and watched as two Apache helicopters slowly made their way through the sky. I guess they had flown over some Independence Day event and were heading back. I thought they were kind of cool to see and then my husband quietly said, "I love that sound. It brings a huge sense of relief." For him the sound of an approaching Apache means help is on the way. It means air support is coming to blast the bad guys.
It brought to mind again what he as personally been through in the name of Freedom. He has been shot at, had his truck hit with a rocket propelled grenade--while he was IN it, and even lost a friend in battle.
To be honest, I think the 4th of July is kind of hard for him since coming home. It affects him in ways that I can never understand.
I am grateful for the men and women in uniform who have fought for us.
I am even more grateful for MY man and everything he been through, the sacrifices he has made for our country and the daily sacrifices he continues to make for me and our family.

The baby story

Today, June 29th is the day I have been waiting for and focusing on for the past nine months. Induction day. It was day zero on my countdown to baby.

I never would have guessed that my countdown would actually end five days earlier but I'm EXTREMELY grateful!

I've spent the past few weeks feeling rather miserable. Monday and Tuesday of last week were particularly bad. My body hurt all over--so much I couldn't sleep, I was having tons of random contractions and I pretty much wanted to cry all the time.

I got up at three in the morning on Wednesday to use the bathroom (yet again!) and lo and behold my water broke. At first I wasn't sure what had really happened, I was in the bathroom after all, but it was soon clear that this was not a bladder control issue! I crept back to bed and gently kissed my husband and told him he had to get up. I had no idea how much time we had. My last two kids were induced so I hadn't gone into labor on my own since my first baby over nine years ago. I honestly had no idea what to expect.

We had to get all the kids up and load them in the car. They were a little delirious but very excited. Fortunately I had packed their suitcase the night before just to have it ready. We got to my mom's house a little before four and called her from the driveway to come unlock the door. By then I was having strong and consistent contractions.

I was admitted to the hospital around 4:30 and got the epidural by about 5:15. My doctor showed up thirty minutes later. I was dilated to a six but he could tell things were progressing rather quickly and said he would come check me again in about twenty minutes. Five minutes later I had one really strong contraction that the nurse saw on the monitor from the nurses station. She came back in and said, "that was a big one I bet you're ready." I totally did not believe her! But sure enough that was all it took. The doctor came back and after about three sets of pushes little Henry James made his debut into the world. I guess he was just very anxious to get here!

Out of the mouths of babes. . .

I guess I must be nesting because I have spent the last two days feverishly getting my house in order. Which is no small task considering the state of things around here. My life has gotten so crazy that housework has been at the bottom of my priority list for far too long. There are multiple household and yard tasks that have been neglected and I am suddenly determined to tackle them.

As I pulled out the mop this afternoon my five-year-old exclaimed, "Oh, you're using that thingy! I like that thingy."

To which his sister interjected, "You mean the mop?"

He replied, "Oh yeah, mop. I haven't seen it for so long I forgot what it was called."

How sad is that?!

"All these things shall give thee experience, and shall be for thy good"

You've heard the story a million times in various talks or Ensign articles. You know, the one where a downtrodden individual opens their scriptures to a random page and there they find the exact answer for a problem or the comfort they desperately seek. It's as if the scriptures are delivering a direct message from the Lord.

Don't get me wrong--I'm not knocking the story. It has been true for me multiple times in my life.

It just seems that every time I try this little exercise lately I always seem to end up in Doctrine and Covenants 122.

Should I be concerned?

All Hail the Bread Ladies!

One hour ago all of this was just flour, sugar, yeast, salt etc. I kid you not. Sixty minutes. I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't done it myself.

Last week our Stake had a food storage class presented by "The Bread Ladies" They have developed the most remarkable, simple, fast, easy and lovely bread recipe that can be used to make literally dozens of things.

Check it out at pantrysecrets.net

My life as a domestic goddess with never be the same.

Blogging for Jennifer Day!

This is my friend Jennifer. She is a very beloved member of my extended family. I guess if you wanted to get super technical, we're not even related but we do share some nephews.

I first got to know Jennifer when I was a teenager. She and her husband came to Utah to go to school and didn't have any family here so we adopted them. They came to Sunday dinner at our house every week for years. They were there at numerous "just immediate family is included" type of events, like wedding lunches and Christmas morning, because that's what they were to us. I remember that Jennifer's was the first familiar face I saw waiting in the temple chapel the day I received my endowments.

Family circumstances, job changes, various moves and the passage of time have caused us to drift apart a bit but Jennifer will always be one of my favorite people. There is so much to admire about her.

Especially now.

Jennifer has been in the fight of her life since last fall. She received a bone marrow transplant in September and although the transplant was a success she has experienced multiple set backs such as viruses that her body struggles to fight and a lovely thing called graft-versus-host disease, as well as numerous lengthy hospital stays.

But she is somehow able to persevere.

So this is a shout out to Jen--To say we love you, we believe in you and you are always in our prayers.

Go, Fight, Win!


This wonderful picture was taken by Jennifer's daughter. It is titled "One Day At A Time - Bone Marrow Transplant, Day 153" I love this photo!

Classic Dad

My mother is in the process of clearing out her utility room in preparation for a remodel. The other day as my brother was sorting out a cupboard of old tools and other random odds and ends that had belonged to my dad, he came across these:



If you can't tell from the picture, those are reading classes repaired with wire--the right side having been "upgraded" with additional wire to aid in keeping them on while looking down.

This from the man who would repair his own pants with duct tape.

Random Rules

The other day I rounded a corner at church just in time to hear a friend of mine tell her son, "Don't pop your toes at church!" Apparently this eight-year-old had just been complaining that he didn't like his church shoes because he had to keep taking them off every time he wanted to pop his toes.

I found great amusement in this because I too have had to implement strange rules for my kids, rules that I never thought I would need. For example, "No playing with your feet during dinner." I suppose it is a rather sad commentary that we need such a rule at our house, but indeed we need it nonetheless.

So I mentioned our feet touching rule to my friend after hearing her toe popping story and she wondered what other weird rules she had that were specific to her family. A few minutes later as I was walking out of the building she caught up to me to tell me she thought of one. Evidently at their house they have had a problem with children reaching over the dinner plates of others to grab things during the meal. Therefore they have enacted the policy that if someone reaches their arm in front of someone else while eating that person is authorized to gently bite the offending arm!

I think we all have those kinds of rules. Rules that are very specific to our own families. Rules that may seem strange to others.

Any random rules at your house?

This outfit brought to you courtesy of 1999

Yesterday as I got dressed for work I realized that my office worthy maternity wardrobe is seriously limited, especially in light of the fact that I haven't done laundry for days. I opted for my super comfy denim overall dress that was a hand-me-down from my sister and my favorite outfit the last time I was pregnant. I paired it with a nifty black shirt that has the tummy cut out of it, designed specifically to be worn with overalls and not be too bulky.

I took one look in my full length mirror and totally laughed at myself. Not only was the ensemble terribly out of style it made me look like I was about two months further along than I am. Of course, that didn't stop me from wearing it because I didn't have many other options and I was already late.

The outfit didn't really bug me until lunchtime when I sat in a fast food restaurant looking at the other cute little mommies in their fashionable get ups, many of whom were also expecting, and realized that not only am I at least ten years older than most of them, I totally look like I am!


(I realize that I should really have posted a photo of myself but there are just some pictures I'd rather not have floating around cyberspace!)

I wish my brain had an "off" switch

I could be my own circus act. I'd be "THE AMAZING AWAKE LADY!" It's a simple sideshow attraction, really. Spectators would file past my bed at three o'clock in the morning to watch the frustrated pregnant lady staring at the ceiling.

I generally don't have much of a problem falling asleep but a few hours later I wake up. If I can stir slightly and keep my mind clear, I'm sometimes able to go right back to sleep. But if I start to think about anything real, my brain goes into "on" mode and for the life of me I can't turn it off. Sometimes it's the simplest things that get me riled up too. Like, "Do I have enough bread to make lunches in the morning? Should I get up now and pull another loaf out of the freezer?" You know, earth shattering stuff.

But sadly, more often than not, I spend the wee hours of the night rehashing concerns about problems I can do nothing to solve at that time of the day. Like, "What are we going to do about our severe cash flow problem?" Or "How can I make Enrichment truly enriching in our ward?" Or the ever popular "Epidural or natural?" Or the classic "I was such an idiot today! Why did I say that to 'so and so'?"

I once read a sleep book that said if you don't fall back to sleep within the first twenty minutes of waking up during the night that it is better to get up, do something relaxing and try again later, rather than stay in bed and toss and turn. I try to do that but unfortunately, it sometimes takes two or three hours until I'm drowsy enough to want to hit the pillow again, and even then it's no guarantee that I'll fall asleep quickly. It's that horrible combination of exhausted yet alert.

Last night I got up and tried to watch the most boring television I could find in an effort to make myself sleepy, which is not hard to do since I don't have cable. It didn't really work but now I know that I really need to buy a Steam Wizard machine to clean all of that baked-on egg off my stovetop(?!)and all for just two easy payments of $39.95. I also learned that the 70's were the most romantic decade for love songs, just ask the folks over at Time Life.

And the problem is only compounded by the little guy I've got in utero whose favorite game is "Mommy's Bladder is a Trampoline."

I seriously need a nap!

Emotional Timebombs

I developed the term "emotional timebomb" soon after my dad died eleven years ago. At the time I was generally at peace with things and did not struggle with perpetual sorrow, but every so often I'd see something that reminded me of him or experience something that made me miss him and I was suddenly hit with an unexpected, unplanned emotional melt down. Like a ticking bomb that without warning had come to the end of its fuse.

I still have a few dad related timebombs every year. And I've noticed I'm sometimes susceptible to emotional timebombs brought on by other things.

I had one this morning.

As I was driving my children to school I saw the minivan of a family I know that lives in a neighboring ward. The windows of the car were plastered with signs declaring "Welcome Home Daddy!" The father of this family had just returned this past week from a deployment in Afghanistan. I happened to notice that this man was now in the car driving his children to school.

Bomb went off.

My mind was immediately transported back to that day, not too long ago, when my own garage door had a "Welcome Home" sign on it. The fifteen months that had preceded that day were some of the most difficult of my life. And the incredible feeling of relief I felt as my husband walked off that plane after his own deployment in Afghanistan, is an emotion I will never forget.

The funny thing is, I hardly cried at all that day. I think that the intensity and anticipation of that day somehow blocked my ability to really connect to what was going on. It was too surreal. But seeing the reunions of others always elicits a very strong response from me because I understand all of the emotions and hardships that reunion represents.

So by the time I got home from dropping the kids off this morning I was in tears--so much so I could barely explain to my husband why I was being emotional. And even when I got a few words out I realized that those emotions are difficult for me to explain--even to him. It's a mixture of painful memories and stress, inexpressible relief, and intense pride.

I think today's timebomb may have been a tender mercy. When life gets stressful and overwhelming, it's helpful for me to reflect upon times in my own past that have stretched me and tried me but left me stronger.

It helps me remember that this too shall come to pass.

The Queen

Thursday I had my ultrasound and found out I'm having a boy and everything looks good. They even said my due date could be at least a week sooner than I thought (but I won't count on that!)

Over the past several months every time someone has asked me if I wanted a boy or a girl my response was always the same, "I honestly don't have an opinion either way." And I really didn't think that I did until there it was on the screen, an unmistakable boy. I suddenly felt a little weird about not having another girl to make our boy/girl pattern even.

Later that day I went out to run a few errands. Everywhere I turned I seemed to be running into adorable little girls in cute piggie tails and equally adorable pink clothes. I was suddenly sad about all of the lovely baby dresses I have been hording away in my basement for the past half a dozen years or so. What happens to them now?

But more than anything I started to get a little bit of heartache for my only daughter who may never know the joys of having a sister. And I had no idea how to break the news to her. A friend of mine had recently told me of her daughter's dramatic and unpleasant reaction to the news that she was getting her third little brother. I imagined that my own daughter would react in very much the same way. I decided that this information must be received with a treat.

I went to the party store to get some sort of "It's a Boy!" treat from the baby shower section but wasn't happy with what I found. They did have these cute little toy baby bottles that I could fill with something so I got those and then was off to the grocery store for M&Ms. I got home and carefully sorted out all of the blue ones only to find that the novelty baby bottles I had bought were actually too small at the top to push the candy through. I should have just given up then and there but I was determined to have this cute special treat to give my kids when they found out about their baby brother. I went out to two different stores hoping to find something cute and festive and appropriate to hold my blue M&Ms. One frustrating hour later as I stood in front of the real baby bottles at Target contemplating how many M&Ms it would take to fill an 4 oz bottle, I suddenly had a moment of clarity:

What the heck was I doing?!

I was running myself ragged trying to create some special moment that would likely be forgotten the moment the chocolate was gone. And here I was, about to spend good money on baby bottles that I know would never actually be used to feed a baby. I wasn't ready to abandon my plans altogether I just decided to be more practical and bought a package of blue baby socks instead. I know that it's a little strange to give someone a sock full of candy but I felt better knowing that I was buying something that would actually get used some day.

Later, when my husband got home we gathered the kids together and showed them the ultrasound pictures and gave them each a little blue bootie sock filled with blue candy. My oldest knew right away what the blue meant but it took a little explaining for my little guy to understand. And when I turned to my daughter to see her reaction she merely said, "Oh dang it!" Then an instant later her face brightened up and she declared, "I get to be the queen!"

And since that moment she has delighted in the fact that she will always be daddy's princess, she will always be unique and she will never have to share her room.

Maybe it was the M&Ms that softened the blow or maybe I was just making a big deal out of nothing--again!

25 Random Things About Me

A few weeks ago a friend of mine mentioned that she and several of our mutual friends had posted 25 random things about themselves to their Facebook pages. Since I am not currently on Facebook and probably won't be anytime soon, I thought I'd put my list of randomness here.

1. I've never hiked the "Y"
2. I'm a horrible speller
3. Mice creep me out so much that I'm a little uncomfortable around hamsters
4. I have been to 11 foreign countries on four continents
5. I often suffer from stress induced insomnia
6. I have eaten cow brain, intestine and stomach as well as silk worm larvae
7. I'm deathly allergic to honey bees
8. I once got trapped in an elevator in Prague
9. The only guy I've ever made out with is my husband
10. I like to tell people my favorite food is fresh fruit
11. My real favorite food is french fries
12. I have performed on stage at Carnegie Hall
13. I can't stand non-fat dairy products
14. I was once darn near fluent in American Sign Language
15. I got an "F" in Algebra in 10th grade
16. I am named after my grandmother
17. I have never had a speeding ticket(although I often deserve them!)
18. I was briefly the star of a Korean radio show
19. I don't like guacamole
20. I am actually an introvert with a few extroverted tendencies
21. I read the obituaries every day
22. I am part owner in two different business entities
23. My favorite sport is tennis
24. I'm a closet fast food junkie
25. I'm having a baby boy in June

Non-helpful Saving Tips

I can't help but think about money a lot lately. My own personal struggle with making ends meet is compounded by the persistent bad news about the world economy. I really should stop reading the headlines but I honestly hope that I will find a glimmer of optimism amid all the gloom and doom.

That's why I often find myself reading magazine and web articles that feature ways to save money. But I am constantly disappointed by the "tips" I come across.

This morning I read an article on Yahoo about saving "$50 per day without scrimping". It gave such useful ideas as "stop paying fees for bounced checks" and "give up your daily latte at Starbucks." Um, not so helpful for me.

A few months ago a magazine had tips on how to save tons of money at the grocery store. It included such gems as "Stop buying gourmet Greek yogurt and get Yoplait instead" and "don't buy Lunchables for your kids." Well, in my mind even Yoplait is a major splurge and I don't think Lunchables actually qualify as food.

I guess I should be happy that I'm already doing the things that are most effective and "provident" for me and my family. And even happier that I'm not an idiot who regularly pays for ridiculous late fees.

But it's still frustrating.

The Winter of My Discontent

I was born and raised in Utah but I have never learned to like cold weather. I am not a skier. I've only been ice skating a handful of times and only go sledding a few times each year, if at all. I'm just not that into winter. And the older I get the more and more I come to just hate it.

I enjoy the aesthetics of a white Christmas, but by December 26th I want all of the white stuff to go away. And by the middle of February that white stuff (or icky gray stuff it has become) makes me totally crazy.

Last year on the Sunday of President's Day weekend I came home from church and told my husband I just couldn't take it anymore and to spend another day cooped up in the house with my stir crazy children would put me over the edge. We spontaneously decided that we would go in search of warm weather--immediately. We gathered enough clothes for a few days, our tennis rackets and fishing poles, jumped in the van and headed south. We had no plans or reservations and we didn't care.

We made it as far as Hurricane by nightfall and were fortunate enough to get one of the last hotel rooms in town. The next day we discovered that the hotel had a miniature golf course out back so we spent our morning golfing as a family. In the afternoon we went to St. George and took a long walk together on a city trail next to the Virgin river WITHOUT our coats!! We found out the weather in Mesquite was 10 degrees warmer so we headed there and spent the next two days at an awesome hotel that was NOT a casino but had a heated pool. We found tennis courts at a city park and had a picnic in the balmy 70 degree weather and basically just rejuvenated our souls.

It was one of my favorite family vacations of all time. We didn't do or see anything spectacular, it was just three days of carefree togetherness. I long for those days and wish we could repeat it this year. But there is no rest for the weary or the self employed small business owner so I'm stuck here to endure the final weeks of winter.

I was feeling rather hopeful last week when almost all of the snow in my front yard had melted (Three cheers for a house that faces south!) but was a bit disheartened to see a dusting of snow on the lawn again this morning.

Yuck!

My freaky brain

Last time I posted I gave a random list of memories from my birthdays past. I'm a little embarrassed to say that I don't keep a journal--I never really have, well not with any consistency anyway. And none of the events I wrote about in that post are written down anywhere. Plus I remembered at least a dozen more birthday memories that I could have listed but I thought the list was getting too long. I just have this ridiculous ability to remember inconsequential things. Yet things I should be able to remember--like the password for my online banking or the fact that my son has playgroup every Thursday--I have to write down or they are forever lost to me.

Sometimes I think I'd be a good candidate for dementia as an old lady. I may spend most of the time living in the past, but I'll have so many places to go as I walk down memory lane.

On this date. . .

On this day in history:

One year ago today: My husband and children made a chocolate cake with mayonnaise in it instead of eggs. (Surprisingly tasty)

Six years ago today: I bought a great party dress for an upcoming Military ball that I looked fabulous in. (The day after attending the ball we found out that I was pregnant with kid #3--I didn't wear that dress again for two years)

Ten years ago today: I was feeling sorry for myself because my husband was on a trip to Korea without me.

Fourteen years ago today: I had my missionary farewell.

Nineteen years ago today: I had my first day on the driving range for Drivers Ed. I drove a Buick over a curb.

Twenty-two years ago today: My dad broke me out of school and took me and my older sisters to lunch at the Sky Room at BYU (it was the fanciest eating establishment I had ever been to)

Twenty-three years ago today: I got my braces on.

Thirty-one years ago today: My mom made sugar cookies that looked like the characters from Sesame street.


Thirty-five years ago today: I was born!!!

Reflections on healthy eating

(Disclaimer: I just finished writing this post and as I re-read it I realized it is the second grocery related post I've done in less than six months. I may be more obsessed with food than I thought!)

A little more than a year ago I decided to completely revamp the way my family had been eating. During my husband's deployment I admittedly was in total survival mode and we pretty much subsisted on convenience foods and drive-through fare. When Hubby returned we were going through so much transition we decided that it would be a good time to throw a diet overhaul into the mix. Around that time I read a book entitled "Death By Supermarket" that detailed all of the evils currently pervading the American diet--all those high fat, high sugar, highly processed foods. I determined that we needed to make serious changes.

I went though my pantry and got rid of everything that contained high-fructose corn syrup, MSG or hydrogenated oil. We used organic ketchup, drank Talking Rain unsweetened flavored water instead of soda, and became connoisseurs of all things Kashi. We traded our Goldfish crackers for Annie's Organic Cheddar Bunnies and banished white bread from the house. I made granola bars from scratch with rolled oats and organic brown rice krispies. We ate nitrate free ham and bought only natural non-antibiotic chicken. The only fruit snacks in the pantry were raisins.

I wasn't a total treat Nazi. We still celebrated holidays with the usual goodies and we still indulged in an occasional Saturday night pizza, but for the most part, we approached eating with a more healthful whole-food kind of attitude. And we generally enjoyed it. But like many good things in life--even things that are good for us--they don't always last.

Which is the whole reason I'm bringing this up now.

Over the past year as we have made a major career change and altered our finanial situation dramatically, reality has set in and we've pretty much lost all of our organic enthusiasm. As much as I liked the idea of feeding my kids ketchup without corn syrup in it, I could no longer bring myself to pay more than twice as much for it. And we decided that whether they be Goldfish or Cheddar Bunnies, expensive snack crackers just weren't going to make it on to the shopping list at all anymore.

The other day as I watched my purchases travel down the converyer belt at the grocery store I had to laugh at myself. The person I was a year ago would have been horrified at what I was buying--hot dogs (yucky I know, but one 67 cent package can be lunch for two kids for a few days), corn flakes (totally processed and full of carbs, but I can get generic for a little more than a dollar a box sometimes),and Capri Suns (full of sugar and empty calories, but when I no longer want to pay for school lunch I NEED something for the lunchbox and they are so much cheaper than the real juice ones--evil, I know).

So I am no longer the super healthy, organic mommy that I once aspired to be but there are several traits I picked up that I've been able to carry over to our now leaner times. Such as: if you cut out the Doritos and Oreos then you can still afford the fresh vegetables, pancakes made from scratch taste much better and only take about five minutes longer than a mix, and my kids will actually pick wheat bread over white when given the choice. So I guess I haven't abandoned my ideals altogether.


(Oh, but all bets are off when pregnancy cravings kick it. Bring on the Ruffles!)

Spring Cleaning

I learned a good housekeeping tip a few years back from my sister who has quite a knack for being organized. (She has been known to even organize her clutter. I once saw a sturdy plastic bin in her garage with a lovely label-maker generated label on it that read "random stuff") She advised me to do spring cleaning in the winter when it's too cold to go outside, and use the warm spring days to work on the yard. Which, as it turns out, is a good method for me because once the weather is warm I will be just itching to get outside.

So I'm spring cleaning in January and this year my focus is on reorganizing our home office.

Soon after moving into this house we got a "new" desk (I have to use the quotation marks because it was actually just an old freebie desk we found on KSL classifieds). This desk has two large file drawers in it. As we established our household and created new files, we put them in the file drawers of the desk and more or less ignored our large file cabinet--the file cabinet that we had used for years before moving here, the file cabinet that was in need of a serious clean out, the file cabinet that no one wanted to deal with. That old thing has been sitting in the corner of our office basically unused for almost four years. But now after several years of pretending it's not sitting in the corner taunting me to organize it, I'm finally dealing with it. The surprising thing is, it hasn't been that bad of a task.

While I admit that most of what I've come across just needs to be sorted, thrown out or shredded, I've found that digging through old files has actually been a roller coaster of emotions. Some things I have found have made me laugh, like a file of "important things to file" that never got filed and now its contents are no longer important. Some things made me very nostalgic, like an old check registry from the first year we were married that showed payments to the hotel for our honeymoon and date nights to our favorite restaurants in Provo that are no longer in business. And a few things I found made me a little mad, like an old statement for my 401k that shows the account had more money in it five years ago than it does today.

And there amid the old insurance claim forms and bank statements, I also found a bright red folder containing many love letters my husband and I have sent to each other through the years. There was a note I had written to him during our engagement to apologize after our first major misunderstanding. There were several little cards that had been attached to flower bouquets he has sent me, some of which I had received during some of the most difficult days of my short teaching career. There were lots of Valentine and birthday cards and a few "just because" cards.

Life is funny that way. Often as we struggle to sort through and deal with all the clutter that is necessary to keep our lives functioning, we get unexpected happy reminders of why life is so worth living in the first place.

The Day That Never Really Was

Do you ever have a day that just feels like it never really got started? Such was my day today.

I had a horrible night of tossing and turning last night and didn't get much sleep. I was feeling a little low in energy and just a touch queasy after getting the kids to school so I decided just to take it easy and do some reading this morning (I received several books for Christmas and hadn't had the chance to read any of them yet.) As you can imagine, I spent the next few hours in and out of dosey, non-satisfying nodding off type of sleep and was eventually fully brought out of my stupor with a call from my sister sometime mid-morning. That turned out to be a long conversation that my psyche really needed, but by the time I got off the phone it was already time to make lunch for a couple of famished 5 year-olds.

The early afternoon was filled with more lying on the couch trying to read which was followed by a stand off between me and the commode as I tried to will my self not to be sick. (I've been trying to ween myself off my unisom regimen and I'm learning that although I've been feeling OK, I'm not really ready to stop taking it just yet. Unfortunately that's a lesson I always have to learn the hard way.) But I'm happy to say I won the nausea stand off of the day (at least for now)and was able to think about other things until I felt better enough get some food on my stomach.

After that I of course had to make chocolate chip cookies. My kids were really in need of a project and a snack so making cookies seemed like a much better use of my time than attacking the piles of dishes that have been (and still are!)building up in my sink. Plus my sweet little three-year old friend who spends her afternoons at our house batted her big eyes and said, "I need some chocolate." I just couldn't resist! (note to her mother: I don't always give in, I promise!)

And before I knew it, it was time to take my son to piano lessons, which was my only must-get-done item on my agenda all day. And after piano lessons the day is pretty much done.

I was blessed at dinner time by a spontaneous birthday pizza party for our favorite little buddy next door, so I didn't have to cook, which is a good thing because I'm still queasy. I honestly just want to eat a few more chocolate chip cookies and go to bed.

So here I am at the end of the day, with no idea how I got here.

Don't you hate it when that happens?!

The Brother of All Snowstorms

I have five brothers and although we all get along fine now, as a child I was regularly and mercilessly teased by several of them. (I am certain I was equally annoying in their general direction as well, but that is not my point today.)

I remember one in particular used to just sit very close to me and poke me incessantly. It didn't hurt but it was just so obnoxious. Part of me wished he would just punch me once real hard and get it over with.

This is exactly how the small steady snow storms we've experienced over the last few days have made me feel. It's like a constant, painless poke. Not enough to be extremely inconvenient but enough to be totally obnoxious.

Monday afternoon I dragged my bad-backed, pregnant self out to the driveway to shovel the few inches that were there before my husband got home. (I learned my lesson a few weeks ago when I decided to wait until it stopped snowing to shovel and ended up needing to clear over a foot of heavy snow, I swore I wouldn't let it build up like that again if I could avoid it) It wasn't snowing really hard but just consistently enough that I had to do it twice before coming in to make dinner. Unfortunately, Hubby was delayed in coming home and by the time he got here you couldn't tell I had done anything. POKE!

So we all went out to shovel again after dinner and the kids were very proud of their hard work, but were very disappointed to find that it had to be done again the next morning before school. POKE!

My husband worked from home yesterday morning and shoveled yet again before leaving for work around noon and then again when he came home after 9:00 last night. DOUBLE POKE!

Why can't mother nature just sock us once with a giant punch of an overnight storm that takes us all morning to dig out from and then just leave it at that? I might prefer that bit of pain to the relentless poke of flurries all day long.

On the bright side, the sun is out today and things are beautiful. So maybe the poking has subsided for a little while.

New Beginnings

I used to detest the end of the holiday season and the return to normal.

As a kid I dreaded going back to school. That dread continued into my adult years because once I finally finished school I became a teacher and found that many teachers experience many of the same anxious feelings about returning to school as their students--at least I did. In the years after I quit teaching my husband became a full-time student who was also working full-time so the holiday season was often a wonderful respite from the whirlwind of our crazy life.

But now that the days of schooling are behind us and we are finding out that as small business owners there really isn't much time for rest during the holidays, I am grateful to put the festivities behind us and get into a new and better groove.

I actually enjoyed taking down the Christmas tree almost as much as I enjoyed putting it up. I spent my functional hours on Saturday dismantling the tree and packing up all of our holiday trappings (I have to say my "functional hours" because I forgot my Unisom and B6 the night before and ended up spending most of the afternoon in bed. So much for my New Years Resolution to kick the morning sickness!) But it didn't make me the least bit sad to put it away. To everything there is a season and I'm ready for a new season. I'm looking forward to getting back to a routine--kids in school, nutritious food (except the Ruffles, of course), early bedtimes.

I am slowly but surely feeling better and getting more energy each day. I have a giant to-do list and for the first time in months I want to tackle it rather than run from it.

I love the catharsis that comes with starting over. I am more than ready to put 2008 behind me and I look forward to what's ahead in 2009.