It's the thought that counts...

Back into it Brain Dump

2012-01-26T20:13:00.000-05:00

My Christmas-turned-New-Year-turned-plague-induced blog hiatus needs to end....and I'll ease back into things with a mild-mannered brain dump, I think.

Here's what's been on my mind:

1. This headline on msnbc definitely caught my attention:

In truth, it makes my little heart grow about three sizes. And while I recognize that birthing in your living room/kitchen/bathtub/back yard isn't for everyone, it's nice to feel like it's starting to pull [ever-so-slightly] away from the margins-of-the-margins.

2. Um. I try my best to be as apolitical as possible when it comes to my online self. But since I hit the home birth button, I might as well hit the Republican Primary button too, right? Here goes:

Dear Republicans,

Really? Newt Gingrich? You know he's crazy, right? You know what happened to Michael Dukakis, right? You know they're going to start uncorking the champagne at the White House, right? You know that The Establishment is going to panic in a second and bring in another candidate, right?

Yours,
Jen

*sigh*

Sorry. Had to get that out of my system. I'll now go back to being a bit more benign in this regard. But really folks. If this doesn't make you fear for our species, I don't know what will.

Okay, okay, one more thing. This is a fascinating read about "red states" v "blue states" with regard to the taking of federal dollars compared to the revenue generated by said states. (Hint: "Red states" seem to take in more government funding than they generate, while "blue states" give more to Washington than they take. But read the analysis. It's great. And helpful.)

3. I currently have three completed quilt tops waiting for me to do something with them. The truth? There are a lot of steps to quilting, and piecing a quilt back is NOT in my top three. (It's down there with the cutting....) Hence, I have three perfectly wonderful quilt tops just waiting to become quilts...to no avail.

4. Blake pooped in the tub tonight. I'm going to break yet another one of my rules right now (it's a slippery slope, I guess....what's next? A bullet point about religion?) and compare my children. Ian pooped in the tub once. (Translation: ONE TIME). Blake has...um...made it more of a habit. And at nearly 2 years old, it's not as...great...of an experience to clean up. I guess I could chalk that up to yet another one of my First-world problems. "My life is so hard because my 2 year old pooped in the tub....in the clean, warm , affordable, cholera-free water...with our indoor plumbing...surrounded by as many toys as you can imagine."

5. Our annual Snow Pile Contest will commence on February 1st (with or without a snow pile). This might be the first year where there will be NOTHING on the ground when you make your guesses. Am I complaining about it, though? Nope. It seems that in 2011, we experienced that year's winter and the winter of 2012 at the same time. Mother Nature gave us a two-fer. Just to remind you, here is what my yard looked like at this time last year:

(mid-January 2011)

This year? Grass. Nothing but grass. (I'd take a picture, but it's dark. And ugly. But surprisingly mild. That's a net win in my book.)

So there you have it. My brain feels much lighter now. You?

Political Skullduggery

2012-01-13T11:16:00.001-05:00

Sorry for my prolonged absence here on the internets.

Lots going on....putting lots of mileage on my sewing machine...taking care of sick/grumpy people (no names to protect the innocent, though)....and also still in that Christmas Recovery Mode. Maybe it's the carb-overload I experienced, but I'm havin' a hard time coming down from the holidays...

...so until my head clears and I have something substantive to say, let's learn a little bit about super PAC's, shall we? (Prepare yourselves, it's scary.)

The Colbert Report
Get More: Colbert Report Full Episodes,Political Humor & Satire Blog,Video Archive

Projects

2011-12-29T19:36:00.001-05:00

In my life, it's perpetually true that Christmas = Projects. I don't know why I do it to myself, but you know...whatever. Choices = Consequences, so using that logic: Christmas = Choices and Projects = Consequences.

Right?

(Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaannnnnnd, the Logic side of my brain now feels like when your left leg falls asleep because you've been sitting on it for too long. Oops. I should know better than to sit on the Logic side for extended periods of time. People will only get hurt.)

One of the projects I've been working on for a while was a quilt for Blake's toddler bed. He's not headed there for a while, but I didn't know how-the-heck long it would take me to get underway...but at some point I underwent and I finished the quilt top yesterday afternoon. (Many thanks go to my sister, Hannah---hi, hannah!--who's chillin' at our house for a few days and keeps my kids company while I sew/recover from Christmas.) I'm thinking I'm going to do the back along these lines....and I haven't decided, yet, how to quilt it.

In other news, ohmygoodnessareyoukiddingme? HAVE YOU SEEN DOWNTON ABBEY YET!?!? Where in the world have I been??? (Though, admittedly, I'm perpetually late to the television party. See also: The West Wing.) I'm not willing to divulge how many day(s) it's taken me to watch the first season. Nope. Lips = Zipped. At the moment I'm wrapped in fleece, sipping nutella-spiked cocoa, and ifyou'llexcuseme....I have a season finale to watch.

Annnnnnnnnnnd, she's back.

2011-12-22T14:05:00.000-05:00

I didn't realize how much NaBloPoMo knocked me out until...well...I noticed 3 weeks had passed since I'd posted.

But you know....when you're an adult, December is busy, y'all. All those errands I've had to run to Amazon have me simply beat. (Fun fact: This Christmas brought to you by Amazon.) Truth be told, I had all of my *present* shopping done weeks ago...but the stockings always give me a little hiccup. Which is why I found myself at a big-box-store three days before Christmas. (Which, as an aside, tooooooooooooootally validated my internet purchases. I noticed a little twitch yesterday when I put something [physical] into my [physical] cart without reading any reviews on said product. It hurt me.)

What I'm trying to say is that things have been a little bit crazy--what with all of the December shenanigans I decided to undertake. I'm using the term "shenanigans" so as to disguise the fact that it's an all-encompassing term for errands/concerts/projects/wrapping/sewing...and so I don't have to enumerate said errands/concerts/projects/wrapping/sewing. Then you'd all know what you're getting for Christmas. And I can't have you opening your package from me when it arrives on December 29th (sorry!) and saying to yourself, "Oh yeah....I totally knew about this."

In all of the hustle--and knowing that a make-up post like this was in my [not] near [enough] future, I wanted to share a little piece of holiday cheer with you. If you're a fan of nativities (which I happen to be), you'll probably love (I hope!) this post specifically about Brian Kershisnik's painting, "Nativity," that's now displayed at the BYU Museum of Art. (Is anyone else flashing back to lunches at the MOA right now? I am.) For the first time, I feel sort of validated in many of the reasons I love this painting with all my heart. The BCC post hit so many touching points on the head--it may very well get read at my house on Christmas Eve. It's Christmas perfection.

You. Must. Listen.

2011-11-30T17:13:00.001-05:00

Earlier this summer....no.....spring (?)... (aha! it was March!) I discovered The Lower Lights when I was cruising around Cherie Call's blog. Ever since, I've been just a little bit obsessed. The Lower Lights are...well...I can't say it any better than they did, so I'll let them give you the gist (from their website):

"The Lower Lights convened in fall 2009 for five days of diving into the hymns -- familiar hymns, overlooked hymns, Hank Williams hymns, and more. The hope was to connect with these beautiful old songs of testimony on a deeper level, to have a new and personal experience with them. Drawing equal parts reverence and celebration from the rich mine of hymns, we ended the week with 30-plus songs that feel part-revival, part-vigil. We hope our time with the hymns can help others reconnect and have their own experience with these songs as well."

....and reconnect I did.

Sometimes I think that certain hymns that we sing can become like That Word that you say to yourself over and over until it loses all meaning. (Try it.....say "pajamas" about forty-seven times and you won't have any idea what you're talking about.) That's not to say that we've become hymn-singing robots -- that's certainly not the case. But I think we (myself included) have moments where we're simply going through the motions. After all, we have babies to juggle and Sunday School lessons to think about (assuming we've arrived in time to sing at all.) Point is, The Lower Lights gave me just the jump-start I needed.

Their first album, included everything from "Ye Elders of Israel" (sung by a woman) to "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot," and it. is. phenomenal. It's like they took our hymns and started from scratch. The result is one of the most beautiful takes I've heard on music I consider to be sacred. But don't take my word for it....listen for yourself:

You can probably imagine how thrilled I was when I found out they'd recorded a Christmas album. A Christmas album!!!!!! Suffice it to say, Christmas came early at my house, and the music did not disappoint. Buy it. You'll love it. I promise.

The Lower Lights: Come Let Us Adore Him from The Lower Lights on Vimeo.

Running Low.

2011-11-29T23:47:00.000-05:00

This NaBloPoMo is really draining my brain.

And since I'm spending my evening working on a project that someone is actually PAYING for, today's post isn't going to get a lot of pithy attention. But what it lacks in pith it makes up for in sheer presence. As in, it's here. That is all I can promise you.

Owing to the fact that my brain is all a-mush, I'm going to tell you about my day. (Feel free to take a snooze right now....) All times are approximate.

7.45 Woke up/showered

8.05 Kissed my kindergartner goodbye (Joe/Blake/Ian walked to school)

8.10 Brought up Hulu, watched the first 15 minutes of The Daily Show, checked email

8.30 Boys came home (light one kindergartner)

8.45 Made list for BJ's (cinnamon, bread, almond milk, deodorant), hunted for Blake's shoes

8.50 Found Blake's shoes, loaded up the toddler and headed to BJ's

9.00 Shopped with Blake. He was cheery. Ergo, I was cheery.

10.00 Home from BJ's. Moderate blog comments (grr), breakfast

10.15 Books with Blake (Barnyard Dance and The Belly Button Book over and over.)

10.30 Blake takes a nap!!!! Yayyyyyyyyyyyy!

10.32 Start cleaning while finishing The Daily Show and whittling down my Hulu queue

11.30 Play on the internet. Send/receive emails.

11.45 Play Grid Detective on my kindle.

12.15 Still playing Grid Detective. Feeling like a nerd.

12.30 Make Blake's lunch. Eat an English muffin with nutella before he wakes up.

12.45 Blake's up! I get to his room and he immediately signs, "Eat, please."

12.50 Blake gets his wish and eats....after I get my wish and change his diaper.

12:52 Cleaning while Blake puts away a pb&j, some dried apples, and an entire sippy cup of almond milk.

13.15 Make cinnamon dough for later. Blake organizes the tupperware drawer.

13.30 Make some major headway on the pre-winter kitchen deep-clean

14.00 Veg at the computer while Blake stacks blocks and walks while I'm not looking.

14.15 Load up to pick up Ian from school.

14.30 Ian emerges!

14.45 Home from school. Last-minute tidying (for me) and snacks (for boys) before a playdate

15.00 Playdate with Jacob and Catherine from next door. Cinnamon dough ornaments!!

16.00 Kids play upstairs, I babysit ornaments while they bake. Also, more internet veg.

16.30 Kids still playing happily. I celebrate by playing more Grid Detective

17.00 Jacob and Catherine go home. The rest of us take a minute to have a snack and chill.

17.15 I think about starting dinner, but ignore those thoughts. More Grid Detective. Boys play.

17.30 Boys are now wrestling. Blake takes every opportunity to walk while my back is turned.

17.45 Still haven't started dinner. (Haven't been to the grocery store in a while....I'm stumped.)

18.00 Joe's home! Yay! I start dinner. (Honest truth: Egg salad sandwiches. Celery/Cucumbers/Hummus.)

19.15 Bedtime routine begins!

20:15 Bedtime routine ends after a happy birthday phone call to Granddaddy.

20:45 I go to the gym. The devil is playing hockey.

So there you have it. Nothing very exciting. Most days are some combination of play/clean/hulu/internet coma/kindle coma/cook/eat/errands. I don't tend to be the most productive mom in the neighborhood--not by a long-shot.

And now this post is over. Go ahead! You can wake up now!!!!

This moment brought to you by Amazon.

2011-11-28T23:13:00.001-05:00

I love Amazon. It's not a secret.

(Also? Totally scored one of their Cyber Monday deals. Merry Christmas to meeeeee!)

It should come as no surprise to you that I was cruising around the site tonight looking for a pair (or two) of suspenders for Ian. (Sidetrack: Ian got a pair of red suspenders from my little sister, Natalie, and now he's in love---with the suspenders---and wants to wear them every day.) Enter: Christmas. Except, there's No Way Under Heaven that I'm going to drive from store to store to store in an attempt to find children's suspenders. Nope. No way.

So while we were watching the finale of The Sing-Off, I set to work, clicking away, knowing I'd find what I needed online.

Quick diversion: How awesome is The Sing-Off??? I'm sorry, but Ben Folds gets me every time. I love that guy. I loved his music before this show, and now I think he's even rad-er. Bonus: he blogs. Also? Pentatonix deserved to win simply because they were forced to perform with Nick Lachey.

Anyway, back to the subject at hand. I found some suspenders...but they only got 2 1/2 stars....so I started reading the one-star reviews....and oh boy was I entertained.

It's no secret that Amazon has some relatively famous comment threads---most notably The Mountain Three Wolf Short Sleeved Tee. (Read it, you won't be disappointed. And on a related note, Joe thinks this is especially awesome because, indeed, he has a wolf-howling-at-the-moon glow-in-the-dark t-shirt. Not this one in particular, but it's scarily close.) If you're itching for more, google "Funny Amazon Comment Threads."

Back to the suspenders. So I was reading along, and came across this:

It's no wolf t-shirt, but I'll admit it made me giggle. Having never been victimized by a rogue pair of suspenders, I can't really empathize, but this good soul should know that I won't be buying this particular pair. (As if Ian needs to be swatted in the back of the head by the very device that's holding up his pants.)

Happy reading!

Stash.

2011-11-27T22:26:00.000-05:00

One of the things I love about reading quilting blogs is seeing other people's fabric stashes. There are some epic stashes out there (note: mine is not one of them), and I'm a little bit jealous every time I see shelves lined with literally hundreds of yards of beautiful fabrics. Slowly but surely, I've been amassing a little collection of my own...and it's grown to a point where I can actually consult my stash prior to a project. (The alternative? Going fabric shopping every time I want to do something. Yuck....)

It's certainly a baby stash--and needs some more time to mature and grow--but it's a stash none the less...and I love having it. Tonight, I wanted to pull some fabrics for a Christmas gift, and I decided to [finally] color code the group. Ian was an exceptional help...and he was quite insistent on some of the fabrics when we disagreed. ("Actually, I think this one should go with the greens." Not seeing the harm, I just went with it.) Also? Somehow, Joe managed to sleep through this process. That man can sleep like a log in the unlikeliest of places....yet during the most quiet times, he needs earplugs. I find that sort of ~~confusing~~ endearing. You?

Behind the Scenes: My Google Reader

2011-11-26T21:58:00.001-05:00

Guys, I'm having total blogger's block. Can't think of anything of note to tell you about.

Not. A. Single. Thing.

So today, I'll be turning to others. I thought I'd share with you some of the sites on my Google Reader to which I'm pretty loyal. (In the interest of fairness, however, these are all blogs written by people I don't know...I think it should probably go without saying how much I love the blogs of my friends.)

In no particular order:

Word of Wisdom Living. I really, really like this particular food blog because it's not too *hyper.* You know the kind of thing I'm talking about, right? There's nothing crazy or left field about it--and it doesn't ever make me think that I need to make drastic changes to our diet in order to be healthy. (My husband, especially, appreciates this.)

UCreate. I don't have the time, energy, or interest in scouring a bazillion craft blogs every day to find project ideas. UCreate does it for me, and posts the best of the best every day. I haven't been led astray yet.

Stephmodo. As a general rule, I don't like to read a lot of Design/Trend blogs. I never feel good about myself (or my house) when I do, and so it was an easy decision to make. Stephmodo, however, is my exception. She's a real person with a real life who's taste in decor I generally love. It's my one (1) indulgence on the design front.

Catalog Living. A friend turned me on to this one. Not much to say, other than: read it. It's hilarious.

By Common Consent. I've been enjoying BCC for a little over a year now (I'm a late-comer, relatively speaking), and I find the discussion, comments, and overall feel of the blog to be really refreshing. It's a great place to find Mormons from a wide variety of backgrounds--to me, it informs the posts in a way that I find to be enlightening and faith-promoting.

Segullah. If you want to feel uplifted as a woman in the Church, this is for you. In early 2007 I was visiting a friend in southern California...and...{sorry...I'm suddenly distracted by the thought of California weather in January...anyway...carry on}...we got to talking about something-er-other and she recommended I read Segullah. Like BCC (above), I've found a lot of enlightenment---and I've had more than a few aha! moments.

An Engineering Mind. As the wife of an engineer, sometimes it seems that the only people who can really understand me are other wives of engineers. This blog (done by an engineer working in Texas...and a BYU grad, I think) just makes me laugh....and it maybe even helps me understand my husband a little bit more. [Insert clever emoticon here.]

Ask Mormon Girl. This one can be filed under "C" for "Curiosity About Mormons" (from both Mormons and Non-). This topic is especially apropos as of late, considering the press that Mitt Romney and Jon Huntsman are garnering for their faith. I heard Joanna Brooks on NPR before I even realized she had a blog (again, I'm a late-comer). Her blog is part-Dear Abby, part-FAQ....or as she puts it, "Unorthodox answers from an imperfect source."

Edited to add: I guess I didn't realize how Bloggernacle-y my list would be. I really do read non-Mormon blogs, I promise. It's possible that my list is trending LDS because it's Saturday night, and I've been scouring said Bloggernacle for gems to include in a lesson I'm teaching tomorrow...But regardless, I hope you enjoy all of these blogs as much as I do.

Black Friday and a Thanksgiving Debrief

2011-11-25T07:45:00.000-05:00

We made it to Black Friday, folks.

Or as I like to call it, "Friday."

I suppose you could say that I'm a lot of things....but A Shopper, I am not. Quite frankly, Amazon is nothing short of a miracle for people like me. In this regard, I've had one simple rule for my entire adult life: I don't wait in line to give someone money. I just can't bring myself to do it. It's like letting Them win twice. Hence, my love for Amazon. They don't have lines.

Moving on.

Thanksgiving was a dream. Lovely company, delicious food, lots of laughter, and a perfect Maine day fit for the celebration.

Gratitude and Flashbacks.

2011-11-24T07:30:00.000-05:00

I love Thanksgiving. Really and truly, with all of my heart.

When we got to Maine yesterday, we found it had been dumped upon with snow (note: I did not bring a coat), but it was gorgeous. (Thrilling, actually, to my Southern-born husband.) The idea of snow at Thanksgiving is somewhat funny to us....and even though we keep thinking it's the exception to the rule, it's really not. (Maine in November...snow....sort of like a horse and carriage. They go together.) Yet, here I am, always surprised when we have a white Thanksgiving.

I was talking about this surprise when my mother whipped out Eight Year-Old Jen's journal....and below is the entry I wrote on November 24th, 1989 (twenty-two years ago today.), in my very best eight year-old cursive.

"November 24, 1989. Time: 9:55pm. Friday.

"Today I woke up at quarter past 8:00. Toke[sic] about five hours to decide what to wear. Shannon came over, to play in the snow. Now I'm in bed.

"Jennifer."

Prolific, huh. But there was snow! When I was eight! (Also? We now have anecdotal evidence that 1.) I, at one time, liked playing in the snow--which is contrary to the reputation I bear in our family; and 2.) Eight Year-Old Jen clearly cared more about fashion than Grown-Up Jen. About four hours and fifty-eight minutes more.)

I hope you all have a wonderful Thanksgiving. We'll have twenty-one people around the table (I made the place cards), all of whom I really, really love.....And this year my heart is full of gratitude for things and people that have run the spectrum from Just What I Needed to Undeniable Miracle. Many of you are on that list for one reason or another (or many), so thank you.

Now I think we'll make a snow Pilgrim.

And it continues....

2011-11-23T07:45:00.000-05:00

This is not news to most of you, but Joe and I have an annual appointment to ~~argue~~ converse about Christmas cards. We have now arrived at that special time of year when this occurs. The short version is this:

Jen: We absolutely must send a physical Christmas card with a stamp, IN THE MAIL.

Joe: Christmas cards are a silly waste of money because...you know...email is free.

Yeah, I think that about sums it up.

This year, however, has proven to be relatively tame. Pleasantly so, I might add. Truth be told, I think we've both made peace with how the other feels and we've made some compromises and tweaks over time. After all these years of sending cards at Christmastime, I think we...well....might have found our groove.

[do you hear that? that's me....knocking on wood.]

Confession: I'm running a little bit late on this year's card. Most years, I have cards in-hand and envelopes addressed by Thanksgiving. (Yes. It's that exciting to me. I do what I can to help the United States Postal Service. It's either this or hugging a postal worker...and I'm much more comfortable sending Christmas cards.)

Yesterday....yesterday....I discovered the wonders that Etsy brings to the world of Christmas Card Sending. Oh my. I spent almost the entirety of Blake's nap browsing through the options. Guys, I even felt a little bit idolatrous when I realized how much I was enjoying all of the holiday eye candy there was to behold. (Also? Why have I never used Etsy for Christmas cards before? This is ridiculousness!!)

And then....when I saw it.....I knew. [Click!]

Another year, another glorious adventure in addressing and envelope-licking and stuffing. I'm in my happy place.

Heaps thanks to our friend who graciously snapped some fantastic family photos for us....and some more gratitude definitely goes to her teenage daughter who did lots of jumping and smiling and encouraging and engaging so that my wee ones would smile--she's well-beloved of my kids, so we were thrilled to have her along.

Here's a sneak-peak of this year's photo....sometimes a funny outtake is a happy surprise.

photo by Annie. (smiles brought to you by Maddy.)

Pinterest Success (part 2): NOT recipes

2011-11-22T07:30:00.000-05:00

Yesterday, I told you about my follow-through with recipes I've found on Pinterest. Today, we have some of the non-gastronomic successes I've had. Unfortunately, I can only post four...because it's that time of year when we don't want certain people to know that we are working on certain things because we want it to be a surprise. Apology accepted? Here we go.

Felt Dahlia Brooch (link)
via lots of people, but I found it at Pretty Dubs

I found this one long before I found Pinterest....but to be fair, I've since seen it floating around there, too. I've made several of these for people, and I really, really love the finished product. But. You have to be prepared to spend a lot of time cutting felt into very tiny pieces, and then even more time gluing those very tiny pieces. I thought it was worth it, but I have to be in the right mood. (Where "right mood" = alone.)

The Crocodile Stitch (link)
via eventually everywhere, but starting at Lost and Found Lane

Oh boy--I've seen this pinned almost every day, and thought it was so darn pretty I had to try it. And try it, I did. And try, and try, and try. The truth of the matter is that I can't read a crochet pattern to save my life, which should have been a good indication to me that I would have a heck-of-a-time figuring this out. I credited the original Pinterest link above, but I ended up watching a lot of tutorials on YouTube to get this one down. (Side note: Watching crochet tutorials on YouTube is a singular experience.) Thankfully (for once), I'm terribly stubborn, and finally figured it out. One scarf later my shoulder sort of hurts, but it's just as pretty in person as it is in the picture.

The Fruit Fly Trap (link)
via The Idea Room

This was another one that was pretty viral on Pinterest this summer (a.k.a. Fruit Fly Season.) Not much more to say about it than an unequivocal: IT WORKS. I used apple cider vinegar and whatever fruit I had on-hand. Though, I learned to lean toward foods that were "pickle-able," so nothing rotted. (Watermelon, apples, etc.) The good news is that we caught LOTS of fruit flies. The bad news is that we forgot about the trap and after a while (overnight) they figured out how to escape. Lesson learned: Empty the trap periodically.

Small Shirt = Cardigan (link)
via Easily Dunn

So. Here's the thing. I have this box at the bottom of our hall closet that holds some clothes. These clothes were worn at a time in my life when they once fit. To put it less delicately: breast feeding a baby for fourteen months lends itself well to a little bit of a wardrobe upgrade. Suffice it to say, I have more than a few shirts that were gathering dust. At the bottom of a closet. Fortuitously, I have an affinity for solid, long-sleeved shirts, which made this project super simple. And it's a little bit addicting. Okay, it's a lot addicting. And do you know what else? It's cathartic to take a pair of scissors to a shirt that's been mocking from the closet for a few years and make it useful again. I'd HIGHLY recommend this project. HIGHLY. (And it took....oh.....maybe 15 minutes.)

Pinterest Success: Recipes

2011-11-21T17:03:00.001-05:00

I've been ~~obsessing over~~ playing on Pinterest for a while now, and I think it's time to return and report. It's easy to get lost in all of the ideas without actually doing anything with them, but I'm happy to say that I've actually tried many of these ideas....with great results. (This was something I was actually worried about when I joined Pinterest....I was a little skeptical about the quality control.)

I've tried lots of recipes I found there----way more than I thought (certainly more than I can include here...if I ever want you to come back.) Here are my reviews of some of my favorites:

Mango Slaw with Cashews and Mint (link)
via Smitten Kitchen

To be fair, I didn't find this on Pinterest...but I did pin it. Right away. It's that good. It's just the right mix between sweet and savory--and I have yet to serve it to someone who didn't like it, my kids included. My tweaks? I omitted the red pepper flakes, doubled the mint, and added about 2 tablespoons of brown sugar to the vinaigrette. (I am very suspect of a vinaigrette that doesn't involve something sweet.) My rating: 9 out of 10.

Confetti Salad Black Bean and Rice Salad (link)
via Mel's Kitchen Cafe

Deeeeeeeeeee-licious. It reminds me a lot of the mango slaw above, but with a more Southwestern kick. This is my go-to for potlucks and church events. If they tell me to bring a salad, this is what comes with me. Usually. My rating: A+.

Crock Pot Minestrone (link)
via Skinnytaste

To be completely honest, I didn't use a crock pot for this. I just cooked it on the stove top.....so I can't be particularly relied upon to give an authentic opinion about this soup based upon the given recipe. That being said, the stove top version was a hit with my family, which always bodes well for a recipe. If two small children eat it with gusto, it must be good. We've had some cold days as of late, and this one hit the spot on a particularly chilly Sunday. My Rating: 5 stars.

Cornmeal Waffles with Spicy Chili (link)
via Paula Deen

The minute I saw this, I knew I needed to try it. Wouldn't you? I mean, come on. Chili on a waffle? It seemed like I would not only score major husband points on this one, but possibly even kid points, too. Food-made-fun is always a winner around here, and Ian has yet to meet a waffle he doesn't like. And really, it was a hit. That said, I didn't use Paula's chili recipe. I opted to hedge my bets by using my favorite chili recipe hoping that, if all else failed, at least the chili would be delicious, right? (I should note here that I use ground chicken breast instead of ground beef when I make chili....I think it's a big upgrade, but I know there are beef fans among us who might beg to differ.) If I were to do this again, I'd probably add a little more sugar to the waffle recipe...but that's a common thread you'll see running through my cooking. Don't tell Dr. Oz. Overall, I love the IDEA of it all (and we'll do it again), but the recipe for the waffles needs some tweaking and I'm going to stick with Mel's chili. My rating: 75% approval.

Roasted Spaghetti Squash with Herbs (link)
via Martha Stewart

I knew this would be a hard sell with our resident kindergartner. He's a great eater, but there are a few foods where he draws his line in the sand, and I really don't want squash to be one of them. And to be honest, I was on pins and needles all afternoon wondering if I could pull this off. The plan was to explain to Ian that this was a special squash that turned into special squash noodles after it's cooked. Good, right? Well it worked. I really love spaghetti squash and I really want my kids to love spaghetti squash. This particular recipe was delicious--the fresh herbs made all the difference. I'm quite certain that I am far more enthusiastic about it than the rest of my family, but since it was eaten, I'm going to assume their nod of approval. My rating: Two thumbs up.

Lemon Chicken Breasts (link)
via Ina Garten

Mmmmmmmmmmmmm. We don't eat a lot of meat at home, so whenever it's included with dinner, Ian's eyes get really large and he says, "Oooooooooooooooooooh, meeeeeeeeeeeeat." It's quite entertaining. I had prepared this about three-quarters of the way before I had to leave for the dentist, so Joe should really be acknowledged for closing on this one. Everything about this recipe was divine. Bonus: it's beautiful from beginning to end. I didn't use skin-on chicken breasts, and if you don't either, I'd suggest covering the pan with aluminum foil for at least half of the baking time so they don't dry out. To be frank, the only reason I didn't lick my plate was because I couldn't feel the left side of my face. (True story.) My rating: Gold Medal Champion

Really?

2011-11-20T23:12:00.001-05:00

And here we have yet another fine specimen of 'Weekend Update.' Except this time, it's a Muppet taking Congress to task. (Clearly, Kermit the Frog isn't included in the 9% of Americans who approve of the Legislative branch of government.)

Netflix Crowd-source: Fail

2011-11-19T08:00:00.000-05:00

A couple of years ago, Netflix awarded $1 million to a team of folks who came up with the algorithm/code/geeky thing that enables Netflix to predict which movies you want to see based on your previous viewing habits and other info they have on you. This was sort of remarkable at the time, because it was one of the first major crowd-sourcing efforts that I'd heard of (which, admittedly, isn't saying much).

But here's the problem: Joe keeps watching a bunch of stuff that I don't like. And he keeps giving them five stars. Which means that a lot of the "suggested titles" tend to be completely unappealing to me. Either that, or the recommendations will be completely random. For instance, today it suggested the National Geographic documentary American Serengeti because "I" (er, Joe) enjoyed The Andy Griffith Show.

Now that's not to say that Neflix belongs to me. ("I" get an equal number of recommendations as a result of Ian's loving devotion to Shaun the Sheep and The Cat in the Hat Knows A Lot About That as I do from Joe's affinity for Westerns and 1950's sitcoms.) Also? It's amazing what sorts of titles get recommended simply because we rated Wallace & Gromit: The Wrong Trousers five stars. But that's another post for another day.

Netflix is certainly a family affair....but I think this is a real flaw in the system.

If I had anything to say about it, there would be sub-accounts wherein you can customize your own ratings and recommendations. Then they might stop recommending that Ian watch Arrested Development because he "enjoyed" Top Gear. Just a thought.

But um, also? Regardless of the hassle of finding my own titles to watch on Netflix, life is better knowing that these exist.

Hijacked Topic: Why I Sew.

2011-11-18T15:08:00.000-05:00

Yesterday, my wildly talented and all-around-fantastic friend, Laurie, posted about why she quilts....and it got the old cogs turning for me. (She also gave me permission to hijack her post subject..... I don't have it in writing of anything, but she's cool like that.)

My history with sewing is *relatively* consistent--I bought my first sewing machine in 2003....which I drove into the ground in late 2010. (Starter sewing machines are like that, I hear....unsurprisingly, though, Joe seems to have resurrected it somehow....now we have His and Hers versions, which is sort of rad, I think.) For those seven years, I was pretty regular in my projects...but it wasn't more than 3-4 per year.

It wasn't until soon after Blake was born that I really began to crank things up. I've alluded to my reasoning before, but suffice it to say: going from one child to two was just as difficult was I was warned it would be (by lots and lots of people, come to think of it). I needed something....I needed to be good at something (because, I was clearly not as good at getting a baby to sleep through the night as I'd originally thought. Turns out it was Ian who was good at getting Ian to sleep through the night...). Blake was (is) a completely different animal than Ian was....which meant the rude awakening of realizing that all of my Mom Tricks didn't work. Not a single one. It was a steep learning curve, people.

Think: Mount Crumpit (overlooking Whoville).

...And sewing saved my sanity.

(Most of it, at least.)

The idea of cutting something to pieces and then putting it back together in an orderly (and beautiful) way was (and still is) incredibly therapeutic to me. Sewing means that I'm essentially destroying something that was once comfortably intact and rearranging it with others to create something that is more beautiful and more useful than it once was on its own.

It's uncannily reflective of life, I think--or at least the changes we experience in life. Sometimes we feel cut to pieces and rearranged and wonder if we'll ever feel put together again. And it's not just about having babies and making the necessary adjustments, either. Any transition requires a bit of re-piecing....anything from moving to changing jobs to transitioning to new Church assignments. To a certain extent, we're all being constantly re-worked, pieced together with others, all to become something more beautiful and more useful.

That's why I sew: because it's the easiest (and most enjoyable) way for me to find meaning in the stress of change; to feel control when so much is out of my control; to feel a sense of accomplishment when other areas of my life seem up in the air or inconclusive. And maybe it's not the healthiest thing to turn a simple hobby into [almost] daily therapy, but it works for me. It works really well.

...and now I'm off to buy some fabric.

Fer Funny!

2011-11-17T22:00:00.001-05:00

Have you yet enjoyed BadLipReading?

HI-larious.

Warning: Due to the PG-13 nature of some of these, I'd go ahead and stick with presidential candidates. Be ye warned, however, I have not watched Every Single One.

Seriously, they're funny.

Brain Dump: 16 November 2011

2011-11-16T22:19:00.001-05:00

Let's see how fast I can type this.....the battery on the laptop is yelling at me.

1. First, some business. Liz wrote about our weekend here and here. She's much funnier than I am, so you would probably be better served hearing about it over there.

2. Confession: I've only read the first book in The Hunger Games trilogy. Also? I've only read the first two books of the Twilight series. I'm currently working on Maphead (by Ken Jennings) and I have Carolyn Jessop's Escape arriving from Amazon tomorrow.

3. Speaking of books, I'm considering actually using Good Reads. Should I do it? Is it worth my time? I've only looked through it casually...but never with real intent.

4. Have you checked out this website? You should.

5. And finally, what would a good Brain Dump be without a cheeky West Wing clip?

Demographic Profile: FAIL

2011-11-15T17:40:00.000-05:00

I got a letter in the mail yesterday.

At a quick glance, I knew something was a bit....askew.

The large print? Shady Acres at the Seventh Green*.

The small print? Independent and Assisted Living.

Surely this wasn't for me. There are several elderly folks living on our street...perhaps it was mis-delivered by my Mail Person? [Have I just committed a misdemeanor by opening someone else's mail?] But sure enough, a thorough examination of the envelope confirmed that....indeed....this was addressed to moi.

?????

Let me quote from the letter:

"Hello from your friends at Shady Acres at the Seventh Green, home of the 'Live Vibrant' lifestyle. Earthquakes. Hurricanes. Floods. It seems the only thing we haven't seen over these past few months is snow--but it's safe to assume the familiar hazards of winter are coming...and soon.

"Remember last winter? It looks like winter 2012 will be much the same way. Why spend another winter worried about your loved one being isolated in dangerous conditions? Why spend one more concerned about a loved one shoveling show, driving on ice or losing power in a blizzard? At Shady Acres at the Seventh Green, everything is taken care of for them by a friendly and attentive staff that truly cares. No shoveling, no driving, no worries. Think of the relief! Whatever the weather is outside, it's always warm, comfortable and accommodating at Shady Acres at the Seventh Green.

"As a family member researching Assisted Living for a loved one, you'll find more of everything you're looking for at Shady Acres at the Seventh Green..."

Okay. A few things come to mind at this point.

1. Phew! They don't think I'm 80 years old......buuuuuuuut....

2. .....they think my mother is.

3. I giggled a little bit thinking that someone found The Threat Of Winter to be a viable scare tactic for someone who already lives here. Had they targeted folks who live in Arizona, maybe. But I am well aware of what a Massachusetts winter entails, thank you, and the folks for whom this would be effective have already relocated to Points South. (Trust me.....they re-relocate to Points North during the summer. And while they tend to gnarl traffic and forget the rules of the roundabout, they also enjoy letting me in on the secret that my children are adorable. That's an overall win.) Oh, and also? I love that they are part nursing home, part meteorologist.

4. I giggled even more thinking about the fact that this letter is clearly intended for the children of those who might consider living out their days in a retirement community/nursing home. I thought about calling my mother....who still has three teenage children at home...and sharing a laugh. Then I realized the laugh would probably be pretty lopsided.

So what did I do instead?
I called Shady Acres at the Seventh Green.

The conversation went a little something like this (after I described the letter I received):

Me: So, I was wondering how you got my name and address.

Her: Are you not interested in what we have to offer here at Shady Acres at the Seventh Green?

Me: Well....no. But I'm more concerned about how you got my information.

Her: We use various services to gather information to target those who might most benefit from what we have to offer here at Shady Acres at the Seventh Green. (Translation: They wanted to profile some people, and someone sold them my name and address based upon that profile).

Me: Could you please take my name and address out of your system so I don't receive future mailings?

Her: That's no problem. But can I ask why?

Me: I don't think I'm the sort of person who fits your profile. Um....I think I'm a little bit young....and so are my parents.

Her: Well, how old are your parents?

Me: Fifty-one. (Sorry, Mum. Didn't mean to out you here...but it is relevant to the story.)

Her: FIFTY-ONE?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

Me: I guess you didn't mean to send me this letter, huh.

Her: Well.....[I could nearly hear the cogs in her brain grinding to a halt]....No. We probably meant to send them the letter.

And then I had to assure her again (twice) that I wouldn't be needing the services of Shady Acres at the Seventh Green for several decades, if at all. And also? She was clearly a little bit peeved at The Company That Sold Her My Name And Address.

End result? A fun little conversation (for me) and a little nugget of blog material for NaBloPoMo.

Though, what is it that I've been doing on the internet that merits this sort of profiling? I don't think I've been browsing for canes or walkers as of late....but I suspect it may have something to do some internet shopping I did about 20 months ago. Let's just say that there is some major crossover between "Birth Supplies" and "Nursing Home Necessities."

The circle of life strikes again.

*Names have been changed in case one of you is crazy and wants to come find me in my old age.

You've come a long way, baby.

2011-11-14T19:54:00.001-05:00

Today, I give you two sides of Jen that I'd rather keep under cover:

...My first day of kindergarten

and...

...trying to making kissing faces after a little bit of dental work.

(mine, not Ian's.)

{Pardon the bags under my eyes.}

I'm a mom.

On Happiness.

2011-11-13T21:46:00.001-05:00

Image via Typcut

"What's the worst that could happen?"

I ask myself this question often. It's part coping mechanism and part vehicle from worry to action...But ironically, it's largely my escape hatch to finding happiness.

I've been thinking a lot about happiness lately. All too often, however, I think of it when neither my children nor I feel particularly cheery at a given moment. In fact, I caught this Pinterest gem recently: "This business of training little humans for life is a mind-boggling process."

Indeed.

On any given day, the items on my To Do List run on a continuum that goes from "Easy: Could Do It With My Eyes Closed And A Baby On Each Hip" to "Seemingly Impossible: Brace Yourself For The Tears Of One Or More Children And/Or Adults.' Lately, though, it seems that my List has been ever so slightly tilted to one side more than the other.

I've always cringed a little bit inside when someone--could be anyone, really--speaks so resolutely that happiness is a choice--which would be a fantastic little nugget to turn into subway art and sell in your Etsy shop....if it didn't also imply that unhappiness is also a choice. An easy example? I can think of many times when my choices to practice [my version of] good parenting did not create Sunshine In My Soul--I'm sure you can all relate (as can your children who are on the other end of those parenting choices). Enforcing consequences to well-established family rules is neither fun nor happy--but it's a choice we all make every day when our five year-old Just Doesn't Want To Fold His Socks Because He's Tooooooooo Tiiiiiiiiiiiiiired, Mom.

Well-adjusted children with a better handle that choices = consequences? Win. No doubt.

A cheery mom skipping down the hall beaming with glee? Not so much.

My point? I agree that our choices lead to happiness or unhappiness, but I can't accept the oversimplified mantra that we can choose happiness---and in an instant, be happy.

...Which is where my lead-off question comes in. "What's the worst that could happen?" Sometimes it's the very question that gets me out the door in the morning when so many things try to keep me in. Other times, it's what allows me to discard unfinished tasks to free up valuable time (always too limited, it seems) for things that are more important. Most times, however, it's the means by which I allow the genuinely happy choices to be made---trips to the park on an unseasonably warm day (when the laundry desperately needs folded); accepting a new assignment (when I'm grossly under-qualified and can feel the fear creeping in); pulling over to look at the cows (when doing so will make us late--a four-letter word at my house); and even leaving my family for a couple of days to recharge my batteries with an old friend (knowing that little people in my family might go without familiar routines, naps, and bedtimes.)

So, in my world, "What's the worst that could happen?" is my own little way of weighing out my options and sifting through the chaff to find what will really make me happy. Most times, The Worst That Could Happen is a small price to pay for a moment of joy.

Happiness is not a choice....

...But choices are my happiness.

Our weekend, thus far.

2011-11-12T23:30:00.000-05:00

*sigh*

Here's the last 48 hours....in pictures.

We met Amy for lunch in the North End of Boston.
(Amy was in our freshman ward at BYU and I love love love her.)

Cannolis. Mike's Pastries. Mmmmmmm.

A rare moment at Mike's without a line.

When we were in the parking lot at Coast Guard Beach (Cape Cod National Seashore), I told Liz that people would probably be surfing....she didn't believe me. But lo and behold.

Bridget, this is for you (green bumper sticker).

Chatham Light. (Once the wind died down.)

Afternoon tea.

YAY!

Tomorrow: church, Concord, airport.

Good, Good, Sad.

Occupied

2011-11-11T18:52:00.001-05:00

So. Liz is in town. So far, we have eaten danishes, brunched in the North End (eggs benedict with lobster? oh yes she did!), paid homage to Mike's Pastries (cannolis!!!!!!!), took in some Occupy Boston, saw Plymouth Rock (Liz is skeptical), and settled in down here on the Cape.

It's been a great day. (I just finished the rest of my cannoli. It's the best thing that's ever happened to my pancreas.)

One of the things both Liz and I wanted to do was to check out the Occupy Boston protests. We both appreciate a good expression of someone else's freedom of speech every once and a while...so we headed down to the Financial District with our friend, Amy, to see it for ourselves. Fun fact: this is the second "Occupy" for both of us. I went to check out Occupy Wall St back in October, while Liz was educating her kids at Occupy South Bend. (There really is an occupy South Bend.)

What we found was very much the Boston version of the Occupy movement. It was well-kept, smelled normal, people were respectful (and also quite normal), and there was even some singing of patriotic songs. A good time was had by all (I think). And really, no matter what your opinion of these protests, they're undeniably fascinating.

"Occupied since 1492"

[there has to be some sort of church object lesson in this]

Going with the letter of the law tonight.

2011-11-10T22:02:00.001-05:00

Because I've had a long day....because I'm about to leave for the airport (eeeeee!)....and because the subject matter is relevant, I hereby give you a repeat post from my pre-2009 blogging days. NaBloPoMo is 30 posts in 30 days, right? So here's a post.

Because I still don't like breakfast.

Giddy.

2011-11-09T23:05:00.000-05:00

Tomorrow is a big day. (Also a big day of cleaning, I might add.)

At about 9:30 tomorrow night, I'll pick Liz up at the airport, and we will then commence an epic Girls' Weekend that will involve relaxing, afternoon tea, catching up, and lots of cannolis.

Let me back up...

Liz was my freshman roommate at BYU. Bridget explained this to the internets once already, but here's the skinny: we lived in Heritage Halls in an apartment of six girls, and as a bonus, our apartment adjoined the apartment next door via a shared back door area (that can be seen in the photo below behind my 18 year-old head). It essentially became more of an apartment of twelve than two apartments of six. Amazing girls. And here we are--12 years later--still friends. It's a pretty sweet deal, if you ask me.

Anyway, back to this decade.

The goal of this weekend: to relax as much as possible, while eating cannolis.

[I don't think that I've yet mentioned to Liz how integral cannolis will be in our weekend. Hey Liz, cannolis will be integral to our weekend.]

Liz and me, circa September 1999

Suffice it to say, I'm excited. Really and truly. Liz is a class act, folks. We'd known each other for less than a day and she invited me to sleep at her grandma's house since all my earthly belongings hadn't yet arrived. (Good thing I wasn't a serial killer, huh.) Also? She once slept in her regular clothes knowing that she might need to drive sickly me to the ER. And that was just the first year....

Sigh. Girls' weekend. We haven't even embarked yet, and I can already feel my blood pressure dropping. I'd highly recommend it.

Travel safely, Liz. Beantown's waiting!

Tuesday in Few Words

2011-11-08T23:03:00.002-05:00

It's a short one today, folks. The longer the day, the shorter the post, it seems.

So. Here it is.

*Woke up to Ian's cock-a-doodle-doo.
*Brunch reservation for 11am on 11/11/11.
*Sewed bibs for a friend.
*Two Airborne.
*Let Joe make dinner.
*Ran to AC Moore. Found item in 30 seconds. Waited in line 20 minutes.
*Moments of angst.
*Play DATE.
*Play DOUGH.
*Clean kitchen.
*Messy bedroom.
*Angry at Daylight Savings. (See rooster reference above.)
*Ruminated on fabric stash.
*Hummus.
*Happy Blake.
*Frustrated Blake.
*Standing Blake.
*So, So, Tired.

See you tomorrow!

On No.

2011-11-07T18:49:00.000-05:00

Photo by Annie

Blake was an early talker.

This is actually a documented fact. As in, on paper. In a file.

Because he has a gross motor delay--oh, sorry. Let me fill you in: Blake has a gross motor delay--he takes part in a program called Early Intervention wherein a lovely physical therapist named Marissa comes to our house every week and provides intense physical therapy to him by tricking him into thinking that they're having a play date. Part of the Early Intervention program includes being evaluated every six months in every area of development...not just the one in which he has a delay. This means that every six months his fine motor, gross motor, self-care, verbal, and cognitive skills are evaluated and rated. This is a very long and round-about way of saying that even though we've known Blake was chatty from the beginning....we now have it documented that, no really, he is chatty for his age. You know....according to Science.

Starting a couple of months ago, his vocabulary started to accelerate....and it's now in an all-out explosion. Which is fantastic. His enunciation is also improving. It's improving a lot. So much so that if you were in church with us on Sunday, you are well aware that he can wrap his mouth around the word "no" like nobody's business. Perfectly pronounced. Correctly used. Unfortunately loud.

I'd forgotten what the "no" stage was like. I know Ian went through it, and I remember scratching my head, but as most parents find out sooner or later, their second child is not a carbon copy of their first. (See also: this is coincidentally the stage where parents suddenly realize that their firstborns are not perfect solely because of superior parenting. Not by a long-shot. What....Was that only me?) Suffice it to say, Blake likes the word "no," he's holding onto it for dear life, and it's making the rest of us a little bit crazy.

So at our house this week, we're trying a little experiment. We are eliminating the word "no" from all conversation. Let me say that again: This week, we will not say "no."

{head-->desk}

OhButWait. I can do this. And it will be worth it! Because not only will this [hopefully] cure Blake of his 19 month-old negativity, but it will make everything more positive. I mean, think about it--if your child is doing something they clearly shouldn't do, how would stop the behavior without saying, "no?" I'm excited for the challenge...and I'm always looking for an opportunity to bring more positive energy into our family.

But I want a buddy.

Does anyone else want to take the No-less Challenge? The rules are simple: Don't say "no" this week. Exceptions: if your kids aren't around and you're out shopping and the lady at the Elizabeth Arden counter walks up to you with an elephantine bottle of perfume and asks if you want to try it....well...I'd go ahead and say no. The spirit of the challenge is to eliminate "NO" from family dialogue. Until Sunday night.

Who's with me??

{tap, tap, tap. Is this thing on?}

Daylight Savings: On the Fence

2011-11-06T22:24:00.000-05:00

Pro: It's not dark when my feet hit the freezing tile floor in my bathroom.

Con: It is dark when I go out to check the mail at 4 o'clock in the afternoon.

Pro: I get an extra hour of sleep....

Con: But I don't really, because the night prior, I keep saying to myself, "But it's really only 9 o'clock, so I can stay up later and do fun things like surf Pinterest. Then I still get Not Enough Sleep and the cycle begins again.

Pro: Winter darkness is cozy.

Con: I'm still technically afraid of the dark (ask me again and I'll deny it), so my post-4pm activities are limited.

Pro: The government tells me we save electricity because we're not turning lights on in the morning.

Con: The government forgot about 4pm darkness. And also that we don't use candles anymore.

Pro: You always get to find out who showed up to church an hour early.

Con: It's likely that I will be the one to show up to church an hour early.

Pro: Did I mention that extra hour of sleep?

Con: That memo did not reach my children. (Or yours, I'm sure.)

Pro: No more summer ants.

Con: Hellooooooooooooo, mouse season!

Pro: IT'S CHRISTMAS CARD SEASON!!!

Con: IT'S CHRISTMAS CARD SEASON!!

So there you have it. Winter is upon us again. Ice scrapers, mittens, hot water bottles at bedtime, slippers, soup, and vying for the second shower of the morning after your husband took one for the team and showered first just to warm up the pipes. Sometime I'll tell you about that.

Living near the easternmost part of a timezone sort of gives you the shaft in the winter. The sun sets here at 4 o'clock....but for my friend in Indiana (where it's also 4 o'clock), she can still see her hand in front of her face when she runs to her car from the grocery store. (Side note: I've devoted far too much space in my brain to wondering why Indiana is in the Eastern Time Zone. Is anyone else in that boat? No? Just me? Not surprising.)

So we've fallen back...the temperatures are dipping...and I'm starting my mantra about how much I hate hot, humid summer days. Because there's nothing worse (to me) than feeling all sweaty and gross before I go to bed. Winter, though?

No sweat.

Ironed Out.

2011-11-05T07:30:00.000-04:00

Twelve years ago, I received an iron for Christmas.

I know it sounds like an uber-boring gift, but trust me--in my family it's a signal that I've arrived. I love to iron. My mother loves to iron. It's relaxing to me and I get so much darn satisfaction out of freshly pressed clothes with freshly pressed creases. (True story: in college I'd volunteer to do various roommates' ironing.)

For the past twelve years, I've used the same iron. It was with me through college, it helped me through my newlywed days when I had (got!) to finally learn how to properly press a pair of pants and a long-sleeved white shirt....and it's been with me in all ten places (in four states) I've lived during our dozen trips around the sun together...

And it's been good to me....no nasty sputtering of weird grey liquids....no leaking water (despite countless falls onto ceramic tile)...and most importantly, it hasn't burned a single thing. But over the last couple of months, it started to look like this:

Tiny bits of peeled-off coating have been finding their way onto our clothes for a while now....which has necessitated the purchase--*sniff*--of a new iron. Fun fact 1: irons today cost the same that they did in 1999! (Twenty-five buckaroonies and you're good to go!) Fun fact 2: clearly ergonomics is a very twenty-first century thing.

Also? I think I've finally come to a stage where I can credibly say, "They don't make 'em like they used to, son." I don't have high hopes that I'll spend a decade+ with the new one that arrived today (or any appliance, for that matter). But it sure is pretty. And, hello! Retractable cord! I think it was designed by the Jetsons...

(Thank you, Amazon, for relieving me of the task of inflicting iron shopping upon my 19 month-old......or waiting more than 2 days to get something in the mail. If you were a person, I'd kiss you on the face. But that's another post, entirely. And since it's NaBloPoMo, you'll probably hear about it, eventually.)

Another kindergarten post. Yes. You read that correctly.

2011-11-04T07:30:00.000-04:00

I'm a planner.

I make lists.

I make piles.

I pack my children's outfits individually in their own zip-lock bag. (Sad, but true.)

So when kindergarten rolled around, (I know, I know....enough with the kindergarten!!), I thought I was ready. And, to a certain extent, I think we've found our groove. Joe and Blake walk Ian to school in the morning with neighbor-friend, Jacob, and his dad. Blake and I play and/or run errands when Joe goes to work. Blake naps while I attempt some sort of domestic productivity whilst whittling down my Hulu queue. (Admittedly, it's sort of like patting your head and rubbing your tummy.) Blake wakes up and we eat lunch. We then may or may not run more errands or play or, you know, just sit there staring at each other. At 2:15, Blake and I leave the house (either on foot, or four wheels), only to return 30 minutes later with a very hungry kindergartner.

(Note to self: someday write a book called The Very Hungry Kindergartner. "At 3 o'clock, the kindergartner ate what was left of his lunch....but he was still hungry. At 3:30, he ate an apple....but he was still hungry. At 4 o'clock he ate a banana...but he was still hungry...")

Anyway...

I thought I'd prepared for everything. But clearly, I wouldn't be writing a blog post about being prepared for everything, would I? And while there were quite a few things I didn't anticipate about the First-Born Goes To School phase of my life, one in particular has become sadly apparent:

I miss play dates.

I always joked that play dates were for the moms, too. But boy, oh boy was that ever true! It used to be that I'd get together with friends two or three or four days a week! Our kids would play, we would chat, nurse our babies, check out the occasional YouTube video, eat....all that stuff. I find myself wondering what so-and-so is doing today, only to re-realize that are spread around four or five different school districts, which means coordinating four or five different school schedules, which is nigh unto impossible.

It's certainly taken some getting used to.

But.

I have a secret weapon. His name is Blake and he is so fun to play with! It was quite a duh! moment when I realized that Blake could have play dates, too. Bonus: Blake desperately needed to start playing with other kids closer to his age--and it has worked wonders on his social skills (not to mention mine).

Everyone was right--the first five years go by before you know it....Of course there are moments when you WishTheyWouldAlready...like in the middle of the night when your baby is wanting to eat....again....like he just did 2 hours earlier....which was also in the middle of the night...but the truth of the matter is that it goes by in a flash and suddenly our babies are kindergartners and we are scrambling to find a time when we can just sit down with other grown-ups and chew the fat even though our babies are kindergartners.

And it's easier said than done.

Reading Material

2011-11-03T07:00:00.000-04:00

So, yesterday I divulged the members of my Fantasy Book Club.

....and me. After thinking about it for a while, the thought occurred to me that I probably have no business discussing literature with these people...perhaps I would just watch and absorb. (Can I confess that part of me hopes that Ken Jennings' "Someone Put My Name On The Internet Google Alert" will ping! and he'll come over here--like he did for Bridget-- and say, "Sure Jen, what time are you putting out the appetizers?")

When it comes to reading material, I have a lot of favorites, including a few that get re-read every so often. And when I pondered what our first book would be, I had a list that included books like The Scarlet Letter, Cry, The Beloved Country, The Catcher in the Rye, and A Tale of Two Cities. But I was also tempted by the potential discussion for books like Flow, or The Jungle. But when push came to shove, I had to go with Old Reliable.

To Kill A Mockingbird is possibly my very favorite book (true story: I unsuccessfully lobbied for Blake's middle name to be Atticus), and it elicits fascinating and extremely satisfying discussion every.single.time. No matter what your background, there's just something there to sink your teeth into. It's an adventure trying to speculate everyone's favorite character or find out how long it took people to understand Boo Radley, for instance. It's one of those books that I want everyone to weigh in on--and no doubt our discussion would be lively.

What would your first read be at your fantasy book club?

Bibliophiles Unite!

2011-11-02T11:13:00.000-04:00

A friend and I have been talking lately about what makes a book club a great book club. Things like "deep and/or uncomfortable topics," "flowing discussion," "productive and provocative debate," and "really good food" have all come up as necessary spokes in the wheel of our ideal book club daydreaming.

As I was reading the other night, however, I thought that an obvious key element was missing from my fantasy: who would be there? I can think of lots of people, actually. Right here in my own neck of the woods. But for the sake of those of you who are not living your fantasy of Ideal-Place-To-Live-Unless-It-Blizzards-In-October, my choices are all 1.) living, and 2.) [relatively] well-known. Deal?

In no particular order, my evites* would go out to:

Doris Kearns Goodwin

Oh, my. She writes beautifully, she speaks beautifully, and she's my expert on government and history at the party. I've always had a hard time gaining traction with historical subjects--history was never my first choice of ways to spend my reading time (perhaps some of us were burned out with That One Class at BYU? Dunno. Book suggestions on this subject would be greatly appreciated.) Bonus: she's local.

Ken Jennings

I can safely say that I have followed (in one way or another) Ken Jennings' entire post-ordinary-software-programmer career. I saw his first appearance on Jeopardy! right on through his last---(I'd also add in that I watched the whole man v. computer thing earlier this year....it was sort of meh, but Ken was true to form, none the less.) Ken is a delightful writer (both as an author of books and as a blogger.) He even commented on my friend, Bridget's, blog once, which means there is only one link in the chain separating the formidable Brother Jennings and me. His newest book, Maphead, might just be one of my favorite reads of the past couple of years--and it was fun to realize that I had a fellow cartophile in Ken. He'd bring some Geek to the table--which is critical in my fantasy book club world. Bonus: he might even come to church with me.

Bill Bryson

My most recent foray into the writings of Bill Bryson was A Walk in the Woods, an all-inclusive look at the Appalachian Trail--mostly in memoir form. He's funny, he's witty, and he lives in Norfolk, England....one of my favorite places on the planet. Any friend of Norfolk is a friend of mine...and I have a feeling we're a pretty small club, we Norfolk-lovers. Anyway....Bill Bryson is one of those people that I'd love to sit down and have lunch with...all while firing off a list of subjects on which to chew the fat. That is the sort of person you need at a book club--it seems like the topics about which he can speak intelligently are limitless. Bonus: ever-so slightly irreverent jokes. [pardon me as I dodge the lightning.]

Jon Stewart

Satire of the political nature is delicious to me, and a satirist is needed in this group. (In this comedy/satire category, it came down to Mr. Stewart and David Sedaris....in the end, I thought I'd get fewer bleep-able moments with Jon....but it was a tough choice.) He's smart, he's thorough, and no one is safe from his criticism. I've also been intrigued that the same man who can interview Borat and Seth Rogen can also deftly and intelligently interview Woodward & Bernstein and Pervez Musharraf. The man can talk to anyone. So I'm inviting him along.

Christiane Amanpour

My biblio-fantasy needed a journalist. This choice was easy. I've been on her trail since I was a teenager, admittedly. She's been just about everywhere, she's covered just about everything, and she was Rory Gilmore's personal hero (bonus!). Even in 2011, there aren't swaths of well-known, powerful women from whom I'd want my children to learn. I can remember in my late teens feeling like she brought a large measure of humanity to the conflicts she covered--she resisted the temptation to make journalism resemble something callously robotic.

Muhammad Yunus

After I graduated from college, I went to work for a group of professors at BYU, one of whom worked closely with--and spoke extensively of--a [then] relatively unknown man from Bangladesh who was working tirelessly on something I was completely unfamiliar with: microcredit. Fast forward a couple of years, and Muhammad Yunus was being awarded the Nobel Peace Prize, and you can imagine the height of my eyebrows when I heard the name announced and realized: I know someone who knows him! (See also: Ken Jennings.) Now, I recognize that adding him to this list would be slightly more appropriate if it was a People-I'd-Love-To-Have-Dinner-With List, but I can bet he has a thing or two to say about a book. He fills the humanitarian role in Jen's Fantasy Book Club--especially considering the work he's done with bringing women out of poverty in parts of the world where cultural priorities dictate otherwise.

So there you have it! There were a few others I wanted to add in....maybe I can add a list of alternates? But if you're wondering what we're going to read....stay tuned. NaBloPoMo marches on, and you'll get that answer tomorrow.

Who would be in your fantasy book club? (I really mean that question! I'm dying to know!)

*Ha ha. Just kidding. Of course I wouldn't send an evite to these people. I'd rather crawl in a cave and shrivel than send them evites. Maybe Punchbowl instead?

NaBloPoMo

2011-11-01T13:05:00.000-04:00

Happy NaBloPoMo (National Blog Posting Month) Month!!

A post a day for 30 days.

(I'll bet you're really excited about that, huh.)

Other NaBloPoMo bloggers that I love are Liz, Bridget, and the Hubs. You won't be disappointed. I promise. And as I ease into this challenge, I'll leave you with a piece of what Mother Nature left us with this weekend. Though, to be fair to the big M.N., this isn't THAT uncommon. I remember many years growing up when I had to pull on my costume over snow pants. Welcome to my beloved New England.

School Lunches: Weeks 6 & 7

2011-10-21T12:31:00.001-04:00

The last 2 weeks have seen a bit of me over-sleeping and Joe picking-up-my-slack....so kudos to the hubs for making more lunches than usual and doing the entire morning routine by himself. Somewhere between my trip to New York, the morning rush, and trying to calmly get out the door in the morning, we didn't photo a couple (few?) of Ian's lunches for weeks 6 & 7. Also considering that we were so caught up in several things, I didn't go grocery shopping for a while....so, you know, there are a lot of repeats.

Hard-boiled eggs, cheddar chunks, dried apples, and a very cute tiny apple.

PB&J, pretzels, dried apples, candy (eee!)

PB&J, Goldfish, adorable tiny apple, CSA carrots

PB crackers, goldfish, apples, carrots, raisins

PB&J, sugar-snap peas, dried apples, goldfish

Cucumber-hummus sandwiches, cheese, pretzels, craisins, grapes

Pizza leftovers, carrots, cucumbers
(fun fact: had to pick tiny pieces of mushroom off the piece...
...that upside-down one had a few mushrooms left and had to use subterfuge)

PB Crackers, cheese, grapes, carrots

Wherein I look at poorly-scanned photos. With love.

2011-10-19T22:27:00.000-04:00

It's no secret that my baby went to kindergarten. (Have I mentioned that enough?) But there are also several moms I know--some friends, some family--who have sent their babies to college. College. As in, their babies are grown-ups. (I can't let my brain fast-forward that far. I might hyperventilate.)

One of these bright-eyed college freshman has started a blog wherein she lets us eavesdrop a little into the goings-on of her freshman year at the B-Y...and it's rekindled a happy little spark that's caused me to clear out the cobwebs in the back corner of my brain where I store my college freshman experiences.

Oh, before I go any further, I should give you some background information that you may not know:

1. I love, love, loved my freshman experience. Nearly all of my closest and dearest friends shared that experience with me. I loved it.

2. I married one of those closest and dearest friends, but...

3. ...we did not date (save once) during that year. We were what you might call (and actually mean) "Close and Dear Friends."

4. I was a Heritage Halls girl. Joe was a Heritage Halls boy. Rumor has it that they've been remodeled (the buildings, not Joe and I...though, I suppose you could say we're certainly different models than we were then, too).

4. My dorm building caught on fire while we were at church. That's not really relevant to this list, but I thought it was a fun fact to include, no?

The other day, I went through our photos...(side note: film cameras)...and boy-oh-boy did it bring me back.

Like this one*:

Joe took me to Homecoming exactly 12 years and 9 days ago. I insist that I was his second choice. He disagrees. I, of course, won in the end...but it's still a point of contention in our relationship. It would be three more years before we would have a second date.

Oh! Fun fact! With some rough estimates and a little bit of Facebook stalking, I estimate that the 8 folks in the photo above now have 17 children. Note: Joe and I are the only two in the group who married each other.

...And then there's this one:

That would be an 18 year-old Joe and his ego posing together.

The story behind this is a little fuzzy...I had to confer with the hubs on this one. Between the two of us, we remembered that someone had written I <3 JACKSON into the snow on the hill next to our dorms....and then at some point soon after, I added the "JOE" to the top. (Freshman friends, is that right?)

...And then I found this one:

Every time I look back at all of these pictures, I realize that the whole Joe-and-Jen thing was sort of inevitable.

Oh, boy...Also? That fancy lady to my right is Amy. Whom I adore. Who lives about 20 minutes away, and whom I don't see nearly enough. I'm just sayin'.......Amy.

....and fast-forward three years, and suddenly you have this

...even in our matching (not on purpose) Heritage Halls t-shirts. Awww.

And don't worry---he took me to Homecoming again...

...And I got cold and wore his coat again.

I'll admit it, I got lucky. Super Lucky. And tonight I raise a glass...er...sippy cup...to chance/divine intervention/clever housing coordinators/new BYU freshman blogger who set me up for my 2011 week of nostalgia. I like nostalgia. It makes me feel happy inside. (And I'm always up for a chance to feel happy inside.)

*Ten Schrute Bucks to the person who names the location of this photo!!

It's a Wonderful Town

2011-10-14T22:48:00.000-04:00

Welp.

Sometimes a girl needs a little break. And sometimes that girl gets tickets to see "The Chew" in New York City. Crazy how things work out that way, huh.

So my buddy, Natalie, and I took a little drive to Union Station in New Haven, Connecticut where we picked up the metro commuter rail into New York. Fun fact: Union Station *appeared* to be in a part of town that didn't cause me to fear for my life. And really, the chances of that happening in New Haven are so slim that I considered it a sign from the Heavens that FOR THE LOVE I JUST NEEDED A BREAK.

Natalie and I have known each other for {gulp} twelve years now. In fact, this is the third time in the last 12 years that Natalie and I have ended up in the same church congregation completely by chance. I don't know what that means, exactly, but one thing is probably true:

The Universe must have wanted us to go to New York together, that's what.

Does this make anyone else a little bit itchy?
{rail platform, New Haven, CT}

Now, let me insert here that I had never--not once--been to New York City. In my thirty years of life (23 of which I've lived within a half-day's drive of the city) I've never been. Perhaps part of that has to do with the fact that there isn't much love lost between New Yorkers and We New Englanders...and I think the other part has to do with what I like to call "New England Little State Syndrome." The thought of a 4-hour drive to just go somewhere is preposterous to so many of us. (Sometimes we pack a lunch when we're driving 2 hours north to my parents' house in Maine!)

Suffice it to say, New York was wonderful. We were there for <24 hours, and every one of those hours was full of overstimulated wonder.

Our train arrived at Grand Central Station around 5:30, and we immediately set off for our hotel which was located in Midtown, just north of the UN. And because the earth rotates on an axis (who's idea was that again?), it was getting pretty dark by that point....so there's only one place we could think of to go in New York when it's dark:

Times Square
(Light Rain Edition)

But the truth is, I'd somehow convinced Natalie to accompany me on this trip so I could go watch Mario Batali cook....so we had to get to bed pretty darn early. "The Chew" is ABC's replacement to "All My Children," and it's sort of like what would happen if "The View" and the Food Network loved each other very much and produced offspring. You'll see Mario Batali (who needs no introduction), Michael Symon (Iron Chef, and cute as a button), Carla Hall ("Top Chef" fans, anyone?), Clinton Kelly (of "What Not To Wear" fame), and Daphne Oz (of "My dad is Dr. Oz" fame and seems to serve no other purpose than to be dark rain cloud of why we should add brown rice and greek yogurt to everything).

And look! Here we are! In the third row!

This was my first experience at a show taping, so I felt super nervous...So much to think about: Don't let your purses be seen! Clap! Noooo, clap LOUDER! Stop clapping! Laugh! Shhhh! Lots of instructions. I should have written them on my hand. (Side note: There were tons of ladies in the audience who go to these things, like, twice a week. "Oh, last week we were at 'Regis,' and the week before we did 'Millionaire' and 'Letterman.'")

Also? We were probably the youngest people in the audience. Not a lot of twenty-somethings available on a Thursday morning, I guess.

Look! It's Carla Hall with Gordon Elliott (of "I discovered Paula Deen" fame)

There was a point during the taping where the director had counted down to, like, four, and Michael Symon was suddenly all, "STOP! This is NOT good fish." Yeah. He totally went all Iron Chef on them. Taping had to stop until proper fish could be found. If you look closely during that segment, you'll see that the fish is on a paper towel (instead of the pretty blue platter on which the Gross Fish was).

Look! It's Clinton Kelly!

Let's take a little minute and talk about Mr. Clinton Kelly. He's funny. And he was standing super close to where I was exiting the studio. So I decided that I quickly needed to get myself some gumption and ask him about my scarf. I'm always wondering about how to situate my scarf. So I asked him. And he took my scarf and showed me how to tie it using his very own neck. And then he complimented my pashmina. Guys, the "What Not To Wear" guy complimented my pashmina.

And then he was kind enough to include himself in the World's Worst Picture of Me.

But before we left, he also made sure to actually check that I had a jacket...because We Must Never Wear Scarves Without Jackets. Really. He checked for my coat. True story.

...And then we were off. We had a city to explore, after all. (During which I acquired a pinky-toe blister the size of Staten Island. But that's another story.)

We explored Central Park...

...and Washington Square Park

And we were even mistaken for locals at one point! But before you get all impressed, please know that the very nice woman was from Majorca. This means that she clearly didn't catch the not-so subtle hint that my clogs and enormous L.L. Bean tote bag were a huge tip-off to the contrary.

I'd also like to take this moment to publicly thank Natalie for indulging my need to head down to Wall St. and check out those Occupying it.

But they weren't there...

...so I sat down and ate my banana pudding from Magnolia Bakery instead.

But don't you worry. We found them. In their park. It was sheer craziness. Tarp tents, protesters everywhere (very few of whom had showered recently...since they were...you know...living in a tarp tent in Zuccotti Park).

Don't tell Clinton I didn't have my jacket on.

....And this post is so long, and I'm sorry. We covered so much territory (remember? enormous blisters?) and saw so many fun things...but I'll wrap it up. One of the last things we did was head down to the 9/11 Memorial (which, by the way, is probably the safest spot in all of New York City. We passed through no fewer than four security check points (one major, and three more discreet), and walked probably a half-mile in the process).

It was sobering--not only to see these beautiful waterfalls and the thousands of names, but to also see the construction and rebuilding going on all around them. Thanks, Natalie, for getting the tickets and making the suggestion. If you ever have the chance to go down there, take it. It's a wonderful, meditative place in a busy and boisterous city.

Look! I met the Met!

A fun time was had by all. I can't wait to go back. I caught the bug. (But not the bed bugs....ew.) For a small-town girl from Maine, it provided that fantastically overwhelming sense of Going Somewhere BIG. (We girls from small-town Maine don't get that very often.) But I've gotta find out....when's the next trip?

**A major shout-out goes to dear friend, Sharalyn, who also needed a break...but her daughter had one of those Fevers You Don't Mess With, and she had to stay home. Sharalyn, you were missed so, so, so much!

[Edited to add: Here is the link to the show....it was perfect for two Mormon girls...it was all about coffee and cooking with alcohol.] =)

Ian's Lunches, Week 5

2011-10-09T20:57:00.000-04:00

I realize I've been unnoticeably absent.

The FSA Conference that has been joyfully occupying so much real estate in my brain is now over, and I can't wait to tell you about it. (Like how I'm still reveling in the irony that I was pulled from a session on Reducing Stress to deal with the aftermath of an irate--and yelling--person...but don't worry, I've arrived at The Laughing Stage of Getting Over It.)

But since I'm still reeling from Mushy Brain Syndrome, you can see what Ian had for lunch last week. Can you tell the Conference was all-consuming? Cause these are some darn repetitive and uninspired lunches. Ian was pretty luke-warm about lots of it. (Though, I think the tootsie rolls saved the day.)

Week 5 Day 1
Grapes, Baby Bell, PB Sandwich, Carrots
(Ian made a special request for grapes to "fill the big part."

Week 5 Day 2
PB Sandwich, crackers, cucumbers, Baby Bell

Week 5 Day 3
Crackers, Pretzels, Grapes, Carrots, PB sandwich
(Packed by Joe. I was at the dentist.)

Week 5 Day 4
PB Sandwich, crackers, pickle, raisins.
(This was the low point of the week, as evidenced by the ends of the bread.)

Week 5 Day 5
Apples & [hidden] peanut butter, crackers, sharp cheddar, carrots.

School lunches: Week 4

2011-09-30T16:00:00.000-04:00

There are some things that you'll learn about Ian via this week's lunches. First, he loves carrots and bagels (thank goodness for the mini ones!). Second, we make pizza once a week (on Mondays) and there are few things Ian loves more than cold pizza.

Oh, and...

Please make the tootsie rolls go away. I feel like they're going to be in the jar for-ev-er, the stash depleting one by slow-moving one. (The hershey kisses? Well, let's just say they didn't leave the house one by one. Ian may have had a little help. Maybe.)

Week 4 Day 1
WW Bagel, carrots, strawberries, tootsie roll

Week 4 Day 2
Leftover pizza, carrots, grapes, tootsie roll

Week 4 Day 3
WW bagel, banana bread, grapes, carrots, tootsie roll

Week 4 Day 4
WW bagel, apple slices, cucumbers, carrots, cucumber, tootsie roll

Week 4 Day 5
WW bagel, Baby Bell, cucumber, pretzels, tootsie roll

9:32pm = Reality.

2011-09-29T22:28:00.001-04:00

Because President Uchtdorf already filled you in on how life really is for most of us, I thought I'd share with you what my house looks like at this current moment.

A long time ago--before Ian was even mobile--I made a decision that I was only going to restore my house to its {air quotes}pristine{air quotes} state once a day...At night, after the kids go to bed, and after I've caught a bit of a Jeopardy fix. Basically, if you show up unannounced after lunch time and before about 10pm, you'll be welcomed by more than just friendly faces. The dirty dishes will give you a howdy-ho, too.

So yeah. I caught a few shots of my kitchen prior to the nightly ritual of Cleaning-the-Kitchen-in-Preparation-of-the-Kitchen-Becoming-A-Mess-Again-Tomorrow. And without further ado:

Let's keep it real, shall we?

"...Like the forget-me-nots, these successes may seem tiny to you and they may go unnoticed by others, but God notices them and they are not small to Him...Sisters, wherever you are, whatever your circumstances may be, you are not forgotten. No matter how dark your days may seem, no matter how insignificant you may feel, no matter how overshadowed you think you may be, your Heavenly Father has not forgotten you. In fact, He loves you with an infinite love."

-President Dieter F. Uchtdorf

On sewing.

2011-09-24T16:31:00.003-04:00

I've always aspired to sew. My grandmother quilted constantly, another grandmother could sew clothes like nobody's business, and my own mother still makes clothes and costumes and everything in-between. Unfortunately, my sewing has always been something I've enjoyed rather than something I was good at. (You know, like most of my hobbies.) But soon after Blake was born and my hormones went kablooey, I realized that I needed an outlet in which I could exercise complete creative control. (Control being the operative word....since we all know that when one has a baby, one relinquishes a whole truckload of control. Control--with its predictability and power and stability--essentially becomes "control"--complete with italics and air quotes...basically an illusion. And we all know Blake is a very special brand of His Own Man--from the womb.)

So I started sewing again after a long hiatus.....And sewing, and sewing, and sewing.

....until I killed my machine. I sewed it to death. (Truth be told, it was kind of awesome. Because who doesn't love working something to oblivion? No? Okay, just trust me on this one. It was good for me at the time. Maybe anytime, come to think of it.)

In our family, we try to live by this rule: Use it up, wear it out, make it due, or do without. (Sometimes to our chagrin, admittedly.) So you can imagine my glee when I could suddenly check "wear it out" off the list. It's not that often when you can truly say that you've used it up, worn it out, made it do, and done without. (By mid-May, I was 4-for-4, and in deep, abiding need of some sewing therapy.)

...And after a lot of research and a lot of talking the ear off my friend, Laurie, (and some boy-sitting while some friends went out of town) I honed in on a Husqvarna-Viking. (Can I get an amen! for the needle up/down button? Wowzers.) It's been a joy and a pleasure--and oh-so quiet. (I can actually--gasp!--listen to podcasts while I sew. My last machine, however, had a machine gun-esque quality and I constantly felt like I was running to get on the last helicopter out of Vietnam. (That was for you, Trevor)).

Side note: I didn't just link Laurie's name for fun. (Hi, Laurie!!) You should really go to her blog and see what sort of a genius/artist/creative mind she is. Also? Fun fact: she's the president of the New England Modern Quilt Guild. She's the real deal. (And also very awesome.) (And also my Visiting Teacher.) She's definitely held my hand through several steps of my sewing journey--including driving with me clear to New Hampshire when I bought my sewing machine. Go visit her blog. It's awesome.

Below is the fruit of my most recent round of quilting therapy. My sister in-law and brother in-law* have successfully set in motion the production of the first she-grandchild (debuting in December) on Joe's side of the family. And while we love our pack of boy cousins, it was great fun browsing through the pinks and purples and.....wait for it.....FLORALS. If I can't control my online fabric shopping, then this poor little girl is going to have a bunch of stuff on to which I've attached ruffles, bows, and lace. Can't do that with boys. (Side note: next on the docket will probably be something for Blake....cause Joe's going to embark on an epic bedding project....I can't wait to tell you about it!)

*By whom I mean Joe's sister, Shara, and her husband, Trevor. In-law designations can be so darn ambiguous, and I wanted to make sure that--in no uncertain terms--my reference to my "sister in-law and brother in-law" did not refer to siblings. Because I could also use that term to describe Joe's sister, Shara, and Joe's brother, Ben. But I didn't want to say, "Joe's sister and brother in-law," because it makes it sound like they're not my family, too--which they most certainly are. CAN SOMEONE PLEASE WEIGH IN ON THIS???

School lunches: Week 3

2011-09-23T08:51:00.001-04:00

Owing to my difficulty in finding actual photos of school lunches (and the sheer laziness on my part to spend any more time scouring the internet), here's our weekly round-up of what Ian is eating for lunch at school. (Bonus: satisfying the grandparents that he's not wasting away).

Week 3, Day 1
Tomato sandwich, carrots, cucumbers, banana bread, tootsie roll

Week 3, Day 2
Leftover homemade pizza, tomatoes, carrots, cucumbers, tootsie roll

Week 3, Day 3
Brown rice, carrots, wheat bunnies, tootsie roll
(we were running late, can you tell?)

Week 3, Day 4
Apple slices, pickle, Baby-bell, raisins, carrot sticks, tootsie roll

Week 3, Day 5
Hummus and cucumber pitas, tomatoes, cucumbers, Baby-Bell, tootsie roll

I've noticed a few things now, about Ian's lunch preferences and about putting lunches together, generally. First, you can never go wrong with cucumbers and tomatoes....and the Baby-bell cheeses are a party every day. Second, packing a lunch that is both satisfying to Ian and high in nutrients takes a little forethought......forethought that I clearly did not have on Day 3, as you can tell. Carb overload, much? Luckily enough for me, Ian thought it was Christmas in the cafeteria.

Also? You know how you try to structure your tax exemptions so that your refund is as close to $0 as possible, without owing anything either? Well, packing Ian's lunch has sort of been like that. He has a finite amount of time to eat, and Ian can be chatty....or other kids can be chatty...so I have this funny balance to maintain of 1.) giving him enough food to keep him going through his day,* and 2.) not giving him too much food that ends up percolating in his lunch box all afternoon.

Too much inner-dialogue today? Maybe. But you have to remember that I have a lot of time to think about this stuff. Probably too much time. Oooh. Also? Scored some tickets to an ABC daytime talk show....I'm NYC-bound in October. ~~Woot!~~ Yay! (I don't think I can get away with woot. I just don't think I can.)

*Hey, Bridget---should I have used a semicolon there?

On Being a Kindergarten Mom: School Lunch Edition

2011-09-19T12:20:00.000-04:00

Firstly, I have to constantly remind myself that I no longer need to take the camera with us when we walk Ian to school. Self, it is not the first day of school anymore.

Secondly, I've found that my brain is being stretched in all of these weird new directions. It sort of gives me a headache. I keep thinking about stuff that I've--quite literally--never thought of before. (He must wear sneakers on Mondays for gym; must keep the snack separate from the lunch; must put Ian's name on every single thing he owns; must keep his lunch nut-free so he can sit at the Peanut-Free Table with his new friend, Sean...) Plus, with all of the paperwork I've filled out, you'd think that I was enlisting my firstborn in the Navy. It's quite possible that kindergarten requires more paperwork than it did when we adopted Ian.

So basically, we're now in our third week of school and I feel like I've landed on another planet. And not only that, but there's also that thing about, oh, having another entire child to care for and nurture and keep happy and fed and genius-y.

One way in which my world has turned upside-down = MAKING IAN'S LUNCH. And I'm going to be straight with you: The Internets is woefully deficient in healthy ideas for giving your kindergartner the perfect lunch. Shame on you, Internets. You can tell me what Eugene Levy looks like without eyebrows, but you don't have a lot in the lunch box department. And after having recently finished this book about the benefits of excellent childhood nutrition, I feel a little extra Mom Guilt about it all--knowing I want his lunches to be as healthy and filling as possible. (Side note: I'd highly recommend this book. But be ye warned--> you cannot unread it. You'll never look at Halloween candy the same again.)

So in the spirit of helping out The Internets a little bit, here is what Ian's been eating (and--jackpot!!--enjoying) for lunch.

Day 1

Peanut Butter and Jelly (didn't know about Friend Sean's allergy yet),

sugar-snap peas, baby carrots, grapes, babybell cheese, Hershey Kiss

Day 2

Hard-boiled egg whites, cucumber, grapes, babybell cheese, Hershey Kiss

Day 3

Hard-boiled egg whites (he asked for an encore), carrots,

babybell cheese, raw green beans, Hershey Kiss

Day 4

Apple slices, chickpeas, cucumbers, grapes,

babybell cheese, Hershey Kiss

Day 5

Apple slices, grapes, kidney beans, carrot sticks, Hershey Kiss

Day 6

Banana, canned green beans (don't judge: my kids love those things),

CSA cucumbers (woot!), grapes, Babybell, Hershey kiss

Day 7

CSA tomatoes and cucumbers (sigh),

carrot sticks, whole wheat bunnies, Hershey kiss

So there you have it, Internets. Some school lunch ideas. I admit that it's a little bit funny...I'm finding myself getting a little bit....ohhhh, I don't know....over-involved with the whole lunch thing. But that being said, I love it. I love that I can send a little bit of home with him to school.

...and since it would be frowned upon to send myself to school with him, lunch is going to have to suffice. I learned a very valuable lesson at the kindergarten parents' meeting back in June... A Certain Parent asked a million annoying and pushy questions to make sure we all knew each and every one of his concerns. It. Made. Me Crazy. So right then and there, I pledged to never---never---be That Parent.

So I decided to be OCD about his lunch instead. I think it's a nice trade-off.

**EDITED TO ADD* We got the lunch containers from Amazon. They're fantastic, leak-free and he rarely has to throw anything in the garbage. I'm giving Al Gore a virtual fist-bump right this minute.

[Even more] Geekiness

2011-09-10T11:01:00.002-04:00

It's really no secret that my television tastes are...well...mature. Between that and my affinity to James Taylor (see also: Neil Diamond), I sometimes wonder if I was born twenty years too late. But I own it. I'm happy to share my love of Diagnosis Murder and Matlock. And you know you're watching outside your demographic when the advertisements are for diabetes medication and motorized wheelchairs...

But I digress...

Another one of my indulgences is Antiques Roadshow. OH, how I love it! And in my house it's no secret that I have a thing for Leigh and Leslie Keno---twin brothers/auctioneers/antique furniture experts/all-around mega-stars in the world of old things. And I love them. In fact, if I ran into them on the street, I might throw up.

Yeah, it's like that.

I've watched them on AR, then I watched them on Find!, and now I happily stumbled upon Buried Treasure. I'm not the biggest fan of watching reality television for no reason, but guys, it's the Keno brothers. And they go around the country looking at people's junk and making-their-dreams-come-true by telling them that the gross bowl their mother is using as a bed in the ferret cage is actually a Minoan bronze piece that is basically priceless and they should be expecting a call from oh...I don't know...Greece. Quite frankly, I'm sort of past caring about why these guys are on television or what the premise is---I just want to watch the Keno twins freak out about furniture. Cause it's awesome. It's highly entertaining to see not one, but TWO middle-aged men assume a five year-old girl-like giddiness over a chair (or a table or any number of other items that we see so often that they tend to become invisible).

Seriously. THEY>FREAK>OUT.....as evidenced by the following clip wherein one of the brothers (I still can't tell them apart after watching them for nearly a decade) discovers some rare art, with the bonus of some spooky background music:

Has that piqued your interest at all? I hope so....cause these guys are the real deal. Entertaining, educational, an all-around good time in front of the tv. (Bonus: Joe likes them, too. Together time, guys. Together time.)

A New Normal.

2011-09-08T12:05:00.000-04:00

I sent my ~~baby~~ boy to kindergarten today.

All summer long I've been practicing some surprisingly effective avoidance techniques when it came to thinking about it. The slippery slope of Time marched on, however, and ever-so suddenly we found ourselves braving torrential rain to bring the First-born to school.

...And when it comes to elementary schools, we certainly lucked out. It's a true neighborhood school in every sense. Very few bus in, and the vast majority of children live within walking-distance of the school. (There's even been talk of a walking school bus!) We happen to live about 7 minutes away (walking), and boy was I looking forward to our morning. We'd eat breakfast, read a warm and fuzzy article from The Friend, have a deep discussion about being kind and compassionate, and then set out on a beautiful seven-minute walk that would mark the end of my role as Ian's sole nurturing influence.

It was going to be a big morning.

Instead, we overslept (the one morning we'd bet on--and lost--Blake waking up at 7:00am on the dot) and ended up rushing around to Find-clothes-Pack-lunches-Say-prayers-Double-knot-shoes-Go-over-lunchbox-rules-and-Eat-oatmeal-whilst-hastily-taking-pictures.

No lessons on compassion, no deep discussions of the value of friends and learning and loving-people-even-if-they're-different, no slow and deliberate Morning Of The First Day Of School.

Also? The heavens opened up and it poured. So no walk, either.

We piled into the van (who's side door was inadvertently left open all night long--a night in which the heavens were also open), made the 45-second drive to school, and Joe brought my boy in to the loving and capable hands of his teacher. With only 1 umbrella in the car, we realized it would be smart for one of us to deposit Ian while the other stayed with Blake....so Joe was elected to brave the rains. It wasn't a Sophie's Choice by any stretch of the imagination, but it gave us a little bit of pause, none the less.

So here I find myself in a new stage of life, feeling a little bit melodramatic.

And while Blake is currently doing this:

...and Ian is currently doing something like this:

...I'm finding things to be very, very quiet. For the first time in five-and-a-half years, I find myself with some honest-to-goodness free time. Except I'm spending it wondering what Ian is doing Right-This-Second. I'm counting down the hours until he comes home so I can scoop up Every. Last. Detail.

So this is my new normal. One in school, the other getting some much-needed one-on-one time with his mama. (If Blake had the wherewithal to articulate it, he might tell you that Ian's kindergarten might just be the best thing that's happened to him--and he'd say it with his little impish grin to boot.)

The weather has been quite reflective of my state-of-mind today. Pouring rain to start, misty drizzle throughout the morning, and now the skies are clearing and the puddles are drying up. Come pick-up time, we might just get that walk.

Oh, and one more thing: Sometime you should ask me how convenient the school is to my favorite Pad Thai.

I might indulge in some emotional eating today.

2011-09-04T05:00:00.000-04:00

We're in year #2 of our CSA membership. I really can't adequately express how much I love it. It's like Christmas comes every Wednesday at 3pm when I pick up our vegetables [and then come home and eat ~~a few~~ four or five tomatoes with my children].

My only complaint--and really, it can't be totally classified as a complaint--is the amazing year it's been for eggplant. There has been A. Lot. Of. Eggplant. A bumper crop. Five or six per week. Granted, there are also a lot foods that Normal People eat: cucumbers, carrots, watermelon, peppers, lettuce, and on and on and on. You know, Normal People Food. And while I consider eggplant to be delicious, I wouldn't quite put it in the same category as the N.P.F.'s. I doubt you've heard anyone call their husband and say, "Hey, honey, on your way home from work would you run by the Stop & Shop and pick up a gallon of milk, a loaf of bread, and some eggplant**?"

You haven't? Me, neither. (And if you have, I'd like your recipes, please.)

And as I mentioned, I really like eggplant. I think it's delightful. In my house, however, I am completely alone in that sentiment. The three men in my life think eggplant is in the same Taste Category as gone-off milk, freezer-burned ice cream, and the-orange-juice-that-tastes-kinda-fizzy. Suffice it to say, I cannot alone consume four or five eggplant in one week. My eggplant-loving self just cannot come through to that degree.

This means that my boys have to.

So I've been trying new ways to sneak the eggplant into our Normal People Food. Wednesday night's attempt was a ratatouille. I think I may have overestimated my five year-old's ability to "eat with his eyes first" though, because he wasn't buying the idea that pretty = delicious. No, not for one second ("What's the black stuff? Is it eggplant?" he said.)

Well, I'm here to tell you that I thought it was downright delicious. I used Smitten Kitchen's recipe with great results. I couldn't get the hubs to use the word "satisfying" to describe it, but I will say that he ate everything he was served. And on an eggplant day, I'd call that a resounding success. And Blake? Well, he's my trooper. As long as he doesn't have to expend the energy to put something in his own mouth, he'll let you feed him anything.

Even eggplant.

**Woahhhhhhhh. That totally reminded me of this clip from Sesame Street decades ago:

Wherein I used to know stuff.

2011-09-01T22:55:00.000-04:00

My parents are having a yard sale on Saturday.

And having previously planned to spend the weekend in Maine to observe both Labor Day and the 12th Annual Mitchell Family Fun Day, we're also going to be adding as much to the yard sale as could fit in the back of our van. (I wanted to strap stuff to the roof, too, but the hubs wouldn't let me. If there exists a condition that's the opposite of hoarding, I have it.)

This tweak to our weekend plans necessitated a trip to the ~~damp, dark dungeon~~ basement, wherein I began to point to 90% of our stuff and asked Joe if it would all fit in the van. He kindly reminded me that we do not own an 18-wheeler.

What we did find, however, was My Box. Ignored for the better part of 7 years, My Box is an enormous bin filled with nearly every class note, paper, and test I accumulated in college. As I was going through the stacks of paper, I thought to myself, "Self, what would happen if you had to take this test or write this paper now??"

Well, I'll tell you what would happen: I'd have to spend a year (or more!) in the library, that's what.

Some things I'd downright fail. For instance, if I had to fill in this chart (below), I'd be pretty hard-pressed to get past the first few rows.

Other items (below) gave me more a little more clarity when it comes to answering the oft-asked question, "So..uhhhh...what does someone with a degree in geography...uhhhh...study, exactly?" (Note: they don't even really bother to ask how someone with a degree in geography makes money. I'll concede the point.)

And then I came across a stack of labs I did my senior year that reminded me how much I really, truly, geekily love maps:

...and Joe was sort of impressed that...you know...I needed math:

I've had this stuff on the brain for the majority of the summer--as I've watched friends and relatives send their First Born Babies off to college; as I've contemplated continuing my own education; and mostly, as I've dragged myself out of bed at 7:45 in the morning wondered how I ever made it to class at 8am--school has been in the periphery for a while.

I have a Soft Spot for nostalgia. And said Soft Spot makes going through My Box in a fast and efficient manner nearly impossible. Not that I minded.

And if you want to buy something in my basement that didn't fit in the van, let me know. Cause odds are, I want to unload it....realllllllllll bad.

I blog at the pleasure of the president.

2011-08-29T08:30:00.000-04:00

Nine months ago I discovered The West Wing via Netflix. And akin to the feelings one experiences after finishing a much-loved book, I'm feeling that sense of let-down whilst trying to figure out how to fill this newly formed entertainment ~~black hole~~ void in my life.

I was in college when TWW was in its heyday. I didn't have a television for most of its 7-season run, so it wasn't until late-2010 that I thought to myself, "Self: you should give The West Wing a go."

And I did not regret one minute of it.

Not one minute.

The writing.....OH, the writing! I could say that it's like The Gilmore Girls for grownups, but that really doesn't do it justice. (No offense to the GG's, of course--during Ian's first month of life I think I fit in a good 4-5 seasons--it's just that TWW took smart, witty banter to a new level....a new stratosphere, even.)

So as I experience the melancholy that so often stems from reading/watching/listening to something wonderful for the first time--and there's only one first time, you know--here are two of my favorite scenes. The first hits me right in that ~~obsession~~ soft spot I have for maps; the second might be one of the single-best exchanges in the entirety of seven seasons.

Enjoy.

On New Englanders and Weather.

2011-08-26T10:05:00.006-04:00

As you're no doubt aware, Hurricane Irene is churning her way up the East Coast with a molasses-in-winter-like pace. Meanwhile, millions of my closest friends and I are scratching our heads trying figure out what-that-was-again? that we're supposed to do during said hurricane.

You see, while we may deftly abide the drudgery of cold, long, slushy winters, we tend to opt out of freakishly surprising weather events. Our strategy for weather tends to be more like endurance-for-a-marathon than the sprint-for-the-100m-dash. On any given winter day, a New Englander can look at a list of three or four weather phenomena and be quite confident that one or more of those will occur. Our weather is nothing if it isn't predictable: Chilly, snowy winters; muddy, wet springs; short-but-hot, humid summers; rewarded by stunning, breathtaking, mild Falls.

We don't like surprises....even if it means riding out five months of cold and snow.

Normally, preparing for Weather-with-a-capital-W has meant going through a yearly routine (raking leaves in October, putting snow scrapers in the cars in November, redirecting the gutter spouts in April, etc.). We know what's coming--year after predictable year--and we get ready for it via calendar, not forecast.

But with a summer that has seen a tornado, an earthquake, and a hurricane that is quite literally on our horizon, we've had to adjust our thinking a little bit. Clearly, we don't know proper earthquake protocol (as evidenced by the throngs of people lining the streets of Washington D.C. and New York City)....and to be honest with you all, earlier this summer as the radio was yelling at me that the greater-Boston area was under threat of being blown to Oz, I had to sit down and google "how to be safe during a tornado warning." Do I go to the northwest corner of my basement? Or was it the bathtub? And what if I can't hear the radio from the bathtub that I just chiseled from the bathroom and moved to the northwest corner of my basement? People, these are not good questions to be asking when the Emergency-Weather-Broadcast-Beeping interrupts All Things Considered and IT IS NOT A TEST!!

When I was at BYU, I'd always be on alert during the first snow of the year--and count how many cars slid off the road into the gutters. (Note Of Explanation: in Utah, many streets have 6-8" cement gutters between the asphalt and the sidewalk, so as to direct water when/if it rains.) Almost invariably, these cars had license plates from California, Texas, or Arizona--places where drivers aren't routinely taught that one should increase their following distance in snow. And I'll admit it: I giggled a little.

.....But after this summer, our friends in Florida and Oklahoma and California will probably teach us a few lessons on emergency preparedness.

At this point, I say bring on the snow.

Snow, you see, I can handle.

Brain Dump: 22 Aug. 2011

2011-08-22T21:07:00.005-04:00

Long time no see, buddies!

It's been a busy couple of weeks...lots of goings and comings, both around town and inside my noggin'. Here are a few things that have been On The Brain as of late:

1. At the height of the debt ceiling ~~playground row~~ negotiations, my steady progress through The West Wing intersected with current events with a peculiar air of coincidence. In this clip (from Season 6, which aired in 2004/5), White House senior staffers discuss a bill to raise the debt ceiling...if only the banter in Congress was half this entertaining (and enlightening)... *sigh*

2. If my obsession with TWW can be described as "mild," then my obsession with this toilet paper holder should be classified as "moderate to severe." Unfortunately, this would have to be...you know...The Quarter-Million-Dollar-Toilet-Paper-Holder because I'd have to purchase a home in which to install said toilet paper holder. One can dream, though, right?

3. I've been doing a lot of quilting lately, which has been pretty darn fantastic for my little soul. I just finished this project for a marvelous friend who is due at the end of the month. It was my first foray into both free-motion quilting (on a larger scale) and binding by hand. (Note to self: invest in more thimbles.) Many thanks to my friend, Laurie (hi, Laurie!!), who fielded my many questions. Bonus points are awarded because not once did she laugh.

4. We are now at t-minus 2 weeks and 2 days until Ian starts kindergarten. I've watched several friends send their First-Borns off to college this month and I've wondered if it feels even remotely the same. Probably not (I can walk to Ian's school, after all), but amid all of the excitement of crayon-buying and hair-cutting, a little kindergarten-sized piece of my heart is getting sort of achy. Also worth nothing: Blake added the word "poop" to his vocabulary before he added "Mama." We're still working on that one. So far, it sounds like he's calling me Bob. At this point, I'll take it.

Friday Favorites: Vernacular Edition

2011-08-12T08:01:00.005-04:00

When Joe and I got married, we quickly realized that we weren't just melding traditions and appliances and bank accounts--we were also learning new languages. After all, every family has their own deeply-rooted jargon, but for some reason it didn't occur to me of all the matrimonial adjustments we'd make, one of them would be linguistic.

Our families of origin both had plenty of their own "words," and over the past eight-and-a-half years our little family has come up with a dictionary of our own. So here are a few of my favorites:

Bididas (bye-DEE-duhs): n. the red line down your cheek after you've slept on a pillowcase seam or your sleeve. See also: any reddish indentation on your skin caused most often by "sleeping weirdly" on fabric. I believe Joe's aunt was the originator of this phrase. She's awesome. I can't believe humanity at large hasn't come up with a term for this stuff. Gosh. Thank goodness for Aunt Bonnie!

Going to Shelbyville: Continuing to check prices/availability of a product you've already purchased. When Joe and I bought our car, we immediately drove to the town of Shelbyville, Tennessee to make sure that there weren't any better deals to be had (there weren't). I went to Shelbyville after we bought our van---by creating a mild obsession with checking craigslist just to see if there were better steals (again, there weren't). Heaven help me if I ever go to Shelbyville and do find a better deal.

Puyom (PYOO-yum): v. An acronym for Pick Up Your Own Mess. Originated by my parents. When I was a teenager. (You can probably fill in the rest of the story...complete with my teenage eye-rolling and slump-shouldered sulking). "Did you puyom?" can often be heard bouncing around the house...especially before company arrives.

Frube* (froob): n. First and foremost, a frube must belong to Joe's extended side of the family, further explained by: 1. A person who has a unique confidence in oneself, a tendency to think "outside the box," who does not subscribe to the trends and ideas of the day, chooses frugality over fashion, and seeks out spontaneous, alcohol-free fun. 2. A person whose choice of behavior or style might warrant being made fun of, originally used as a substitute for calling someone a "nerd" or "dork." Examples of frube-ish behavior are:

-Wearing socks on your arms to protect them from the sun during a vacation to Mexico (I might also add: wearing pj's to the beach for the same reason).

-Catching an opossum in a trash can and bringing it in the house to show your children what an opossum looks like.

-Driving a car because it gets 45mpg and not caring what it looks like (no hubcaps, no a/c, hideous pinstripes, etc).

-Wearing a jumpsuit to work on home/yard/vehicle projects (and always doing the work yourself).

-Having a Sound of Music sing-along on Christmas Eve (complete with costumes & party favors)

fig. 1

A Sound of Music Sing-along as an example of frube-ish behavior.

And because you won't regret spending the time reading, here's one we love (and have often employed) from another fantastic family.

What are your special words?

Cartoon via.

*Special thanks to my sister in-law for providing this definition (and examples!)

On faith.

2011-08-09T11:00:00.005-04:00

^{the boy and his knife}

We all know how I feel about Canada. The poutine alone makes me want to head back.

...Right...this...minute.

But I want to tell you a little story about my Ian. He's a wonder, that boy. Wonderful. Full of wonder. Full of wit. Full of insight. Full of faith.

You see, he found a rather funny-looking(-to-me) rock. He called it his knife. Within minutes, it was his favorite thing about the universe. And why not, I thought. Nature+tool+toy+rock+funky+beach=5 year-old heaven. A multitasking hunk of stone? Yes. Could there be anything better to a little boy? Idon'tthinkso.

That rock went with us everywhere. He slept with it. He played with it. He dug with it. He cuddled with it. He ate ~~with~~ near it. Within minutes of finding it, this little rock was a full-fledged part of the family. I wondered if I should make a mental note to declare it at the border when we re-entered the U.S.

But then....then....on a beautiful, foggy morning at a beach not far from where FDR played as a child, the rock could not be found. It was time to leave--babies were hungry, kids needed a potty stop, Mom needed a nap...but his rock had disappeared. To add insult to injury, this was a pretty rocky beach. I mean...it's Canada, not Cancun, people. No white, powder-fine sand...just the pebbly rough stuff.

Not an ideal place to search.

But search we did. Without any luck, whatsoever.

Little boy tears were being shed at an astonishing rate. The clock was ticking. We had to go. We'd exhausted our search without success. This was not an ideal parenting situation.

So in [mom's] desperation and with [Ian's] faith, we prayed.

As a mother, all I could think was, "Please show up, please show up, please show up." In all of my faithlessness, all I could think of was how I was going to explain away this one if we didn't find it.

But no sooner had we said amen, then Ian turned around and squealed. He found it. In a place we'd looked over and over again. And I knew I'd certainly had nothing to do with that discovery.

It was Ian's find.

Many thanks were uttered heavenward.

For a rock.

A very important rock.

Friday Favorites: College Music Edition

2011-08-05T19:32:00.003-04:00

We hear a lot about olfactory memory--the undeniably strong connection between smells and experiences. For instance, for me the smell of freesia is utterly intolerable, simply because I spilled an entire bottle of freesia body spray on my bed in the 9th grade....rendering my mattress all freesia-y for years to come. {shudder}

Almost as strong for me, however, is the connection between music and major life events. And never is this more true than when I hear songs that were a major part of my college experience.

I'm not much of a listen-to-music kind of girl. I'm more of a listen-to-witty-podcasts sort of lady--have been for years. But this wasn't really so when I was in college. I didn't have a t.v. for the entirety of my college education and literally watched nothing for four-maybe-five years. (Exception 1: my sophomore year, we rented a t.v. for a semester solely to watch the summer olympics in Sydney, Australia. I'm a proud Olympics junkie and so were my roommates--hi, Jenn-Erin-Brianne!--so we had to have our fix. Correct my if I'm wrong, friends, but I'm pretty sure that the old CRT spent the rest of the semester collecting dust and propping up very heavy textbooks. Exception 2: I had to spend a lot of time in the HLRC watching RAI for my Italian classes. Va bene.)

So without the need for a boob-tube fix, and with the height of the Napster-Is-Still-Legal-And-Not-Yet-Banned-At-BYU phase, music became a big, big part of my everyday life. (Also? This was long before iPods hit Warp-Speed-Ubiquity, which is a shame now that I think about it...the rise of the iPod has been largely incongruous with my music listening habits.)

My music tastes have always been a bit eclectic...some of these songs remind me of college simply because that was the period of time in which they were actually popular (and playing everywhere. All. The. Time.).....but not most weren't. So without further ado, why let's turn down Fresh Air a bit while we take a stroll down Memory Lane:

Gin Blossoms: "Follow You Down"
Van Morrison: "Brown-eyed Girl"
Enya: "Wild Child"
Simon & Garfunkel: "Cecilia" & "Diamonds on the Soles of Her Shoes"
J-Lo: "Let's Get Loud"
The Corrs: "Breathless" & "All the Love in the World" & "Irresistible"
The Buggles: "Video Killed the Radio Star"
Dexter Freebish: "Leaving Town"
Rascal Flatts: "I'm Movin' On"
Weezer: "Island in the Sun"
James Taylor: "Sweet Baby James"
Faith Hill: "The Way You Love Me"
Artist-I-Can't-Remember: "Kiss the Girl Remix" (From The Little Mermaid)
Eve 6: "Here's to the Night"
Hercules Soundtrack: "I Won't Say I'm in Love"
John Denver: "Leaving on a Jet Plane"

What songs bring back memories for you? College friends--what did I miss? I'm thinking there's some Shakira that should be on there...and probably some NSYNC....

I guess you had to be there.

=)

Image via

Oh, Canada...

2011-08-01T22:26:00.003-04:00

We just returned from a 4-day swing through Canada. Campobello Island (New Brunswick), to be exact.

There's just something about visiting Canada that makes my little heart get all warm inside. We all know that Canadians are intrinsically nice...and even though we say it and we notice it and it's become numbingly trite to even mention it, I'm always taken aback by just how genuinely nice I find our Neighbors To The North.

I wish I knew why. It's certainly not the weather, which is basically "nine months of winter followed by three months of very poor sledding." (Thank you, Bill Bryson, for that golden nugget of linguistic genius). And it can't be the tedium of printing Every. Single. Thing. in both English and French.....or maybe it is? Cause Ian couldn't get enough of all the "Stop/Arrêt" signs. ["Stop a rat?? HA! HA! HA!"] Truth be told, I ate up the redundancy with great pleasure, as well, with "Parc Provincial Park" being my favorite.

The truth of the matter is that everyone we encountered on the island--from the utility workers holding the double-sided stop/slow signs during road construction to the ladies at the playground--was utterly and genuinely nice. So much so that I feel comfortable making sweeping generalizations about the entire country's population.

...So much so that I will now address you as a whole:

Thank you (merci), Canada (Canada), for a wonderful visit (pour une vacances merveilleuses). We'll be back soon (nous retournerons bientôt).

Superman.

2011-07-28T07:55:00.001-04:00

We have a book at our house called My Father Can Fix Anything (by Mabel Watts. It's old school. Sometimes you can find it on Amazon. If you're lucky). Ian loves it. In fact, he's made it very clear strangers and friends alike that his dad can, indeed, fix anything. True story.

Truth be told, sometimes I sit back in my wheely-chair and think to myself, "Self, what do people do when they're not married to an engineer?" Cause here's the thing--I can type...I can net-surf....I can feebly maintain a blog. But when I decided that I needed to move the computer tower from the bottom to the top of my desk...well...I'm hopeless. I totally have in-house tech support. I have my very own Geek Squad under my very own roof. Joe's techy skills alone are priceless.

But wait. There's MORE!

He fixes stuff. It's awesome. When Cary's (say: CAR-eeeeee) cord was somehow cut (??), my husband broke out his trusty soldering iron And Fixed It. When the laptop cord suffered a similar fate, He Fixed That, Too. He changes the oil, the spark plugs, and the brakes...he takes out the trash, rotates the tires, and does the laundry...he builds things and cleans things and organizes things and.....{waaaaaaaaaait for it....} SEWS THINGS.

So here's to you, husband.....on your thirtieth birthday. Happy birthday, Joseph. You are undoubtedly my Superman.

(Now if you could just take those magical powers of yours and slow down time, that would be fantastic.)

On Packing.

2011-07-25T09:51:00.003-04:00

We're leaving the country this week.

....by car.

To celebrate the hubs's 30th birthday (and also to get-away-for-awhile), we're heading six hours Downeast to explore the wilds of New Brunswick. We're excited.

But you know what isn't exciting? Packing.

Packing is not exciting. And I'll tell you why: Packing manages to cruelly suck all of the anticipatory magic out of a vacation. Packing brings it home--over and over and over again--exactly how tedious it is to get two grown people and two small children out the door for any length of time.

I should have known. After all, it seems to take an Act of Congress to get us out the door to church or to the grocery store or to the dentist. But these days, that's probably a poor analogy. Because, unlike Congress, I actually get to church and the grocery store and the dentist. Dear Congresspeople, let's all put on our Big Boy Pants and not send my retirement into oblivion, shall we?

But I digress. Packing.

As I sit here and type, I have three lists up on my screen. There's one called "Chores To Be Done Before Canada," one called, "Things To Bring (Non-Food)" and another called "Things To Do Just Before Leaving for Canada." Each list contains 20-30 things that Must Be Done before we pull out of the driveway tomorrow after Joe gets home from work. And since I derive a freakishly enormous amount of satisfaction from checking something off a to-do list, I've discovered that the List Method works well for me. (I've been known to tack something onto my list after I've done it simply so I could Check It Off. True story.)

[Whisper: See? I told you. Freakish.]

I can remember, as a kid, getting so excited for vacations--it was, in a word, magical. But now I realize that while I was drowning in revelrous pre-vacation levities, (totally just made up 2 of the last 3 words), my Mother was up to her eyeballs in logistical minutiae.

So here I am, wondering how to fit a week's worth of errands and cleaning into 24 hours--while also doing my best to ensure my kids get nothing but The Magic.

Let's see how I do.

Canada, after all, is the Happiest Place on Earth.

Image via.

Thursday Favorites: Pinterest Edition

2011-07-15T10:28:00.004-04:00

Have you heard of Pinterest?

Used to be that I had a massive folder of bookmarks on my computer filled with link after link of Craft-To-Do's, Recipes-For-Later, and Dreams-For-The-House-I-Might-Buy-Upon-Market-Collapse.

That folder, however, is no longer.

Everything is now neatly tucked and organized on my Pinterest boards, and I'm not too proud to admit that I'm a little bit in love.

As an added bonus, though, I've found some really fantastic ideas/thoughts/miscellany that have come in handy more than once. Pinterest poaching is one of my new favorite activities--and here are some of my prized finds:

1. This poster made me chuckle. A lot.

2. Storing my sheet sets inside their pillowcase? Utter genius.

3. I've made this mango slaw three times now. It's divine.

4. Magnetic maps. Beautiful, educational, and geeky. That's like the Perfect Gift Trifecta!

5. Totally gonna start serving fruit salad in ice cream cones. It's beautiful, it's tasty, and it's a lot easier on my hips.

Are you on Pinterest? What have you found? (And more importantly, can I find it too?)

And also? Some perspective.

2011-07-14T16:00:00.007-04:00

Yesterday I was peeved at Netflix. Truth be told, I'm also peeved at Netflix today. And quite frankly, I'll probably be peeved at Netflix tomorrow, too.

I think what they're doing is weasly and it makes me cranky.

But it got me thinking...Netflix is raising their prices by six dollars per month, and within 24 hours 60,000+ folks have formed an angry Facebook mob demanding change. I don't know if they'll get that change...but that's a lot of people getting angry and fighting back very quickly.

Can you imagine what would happen if the most severe drought the horn of Africa has seen in 60 years could elicit a similar response from the American public? Do you think we could affect change if everyone who canceled Netflix yesterday pooled their $9.99 and recognized the billions of people who need it more?

I've been thinking a lot, recently, about {air quotes}First-World Problems{air quotes}: The kid at the Market Basket bagged my apples on top of my tomatoes. I had to leave my house 10 minutes earlier than normal so I could get a shaded parking spot when I took Ian to soccer. I only have two air conditioners. There was a mosquito in my room last night, and my ankle was bitten while I slept (it really itches). My son isn't going to kindergarten in one of the top school districts in the state (ergo country). I can't figure out how to tell if a watermelon is bruised before I buy it.

I could go on.

So when Netflix decides to raise their rates by 60% a mere eight months after their most previous price hike, I get that people (myself included) are upset. But when I think about the women giving birth on roadsides in Somalia or grassroots humanitarian efforts in Haiti, I pause. Fact is, my family makes more money annually than 99% of the world's population. (I'm guessing yours does, too.)

Makes me a little sheepish to think of where my West Wing addiction currently stands on the priority list.

[Image via.]

An Open Letter to The Netflix Team

2011-07-12T18:08:00.006-04:00

Dear The Netflix Team,

When the boys and I got home from soccer today, I found your email in my in-box. In case you send a lot of emails and need to be reminded which one you sent my way, I've pasted the screen shot below:

Woooooooooooooooah. That's gutsy, guys. Charging 60% more for the same exact thing we've been paying for for over a year? Gutsy. I'd use a different word, but I'm a lady. I'm guessing that you're not going to actually give us a 60% improvement in performance or title selection. I'm also guessing that you're assuming that the folks over at Amazon, Hulu Plus, Redbox, and Blockbuster Online can't (or won't) compete.

(Also? Maybe you haven't noticed, but Amazon has every episode of Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood streaming--and free--for Amazon Prime subscribers. And in case you weren't aware, in any sort of head-to-head comparison, THE ONE WITH MR. ROGERS ALWAYS WINS. It's the law. Of the universe. And the galaxy.)

I'm sort of wondering if your costs for digital media randomly and freakishly jumped sixty percent. Because my husband tells me that over time, costs for all things digital and/or technological goes down. And I know you haven't met him, but Joe (the hubs) is super smart. You'd like him, I think. Anyway. Remember in 2007 when Joe got a 22" LCD (No-Name-From-China) monitor for $250? Remember what a deal that was? It was a steal. Well, that monitor bit the dust last month and we purchased a 22" (Brand-We-Actually-Recognize) monitor for just over $100. Point is, I have my doubts that your costs are up drastically.

And I'm not the only one.

I mean, we like you...we really do. It can't be a great day for you considering the state of your Facebook page right now. I just hope you didn't go with the lowest bidder when it was time to hire a P.R. firm.

I guess I'm going to have to be convinced that this isn't a move rooted in greed and arrogance...cause I have yet to meet a person who doesn't love Amazon with all their heart. Amazon is like the Costco Of The Internet--I dare you to find someone who can't find something they really love.

So convince me, The Netflix Team. Convince me that I shouldn' switch over to Amazon.

After all, Mr. Rogers is on their team.

And I make it a point to come down on the side of Mr. Rogers.

Thanksabunch,

me.

Sweating Nostalgic.

2011-07-11T16:11:00.005-04:00

I have a love-hate relationship with summer.

This summer, in particular.

On the one hand, I have that part of me that is a Natural-Born-Sweat-Machine (a special shout-out goes to my canoe-building, pineapple-planting, coconut palm-climbing forebears...thanks, ancestors!). There are few things that make me more uncomfortable than feeling the cling of sweat-soaked clothing on a hot, humid day. It makes me shudder just thinking about it.

To be honest, I'd rather shovel my driveway after a February Nor'easter.

On the other hand, however, I've found myself making peace with the ~~seedy~~ steamy underbelly of New England's hottest 6-8 weeks.

Unlike summers past, I haven't found myself longing for the crisp, dry days of late-September. This summer, you see, is Ian's last summer before kindergarten begins. It's his last summer before we become slaves to the school schedule...before crisp autumn days turn into crisp autumn school days.

Perhaps today's 90+degree forecast is doing something to me....heat-induced melancholy, perhaps? Regardless, I'm determined to enjoy my last few weeks of having my first-born to myself---we're enjoying everything that a New England summer has to offer, even if it means that Mama looks like she just ran a half-marathon by simply walking from the car to the grocery store.

Dear Mother Nature,

Could you please put the brakes on time for a while?

My baby is going to kindergarten in the fall. It happened

too fast. Maybe you could add a few hours to the day and

subtract the mosquitoes? That would really help this

Mama's heart.

Cordially,
Jen

Friday Favorites: Utensil Edition

2011-07-07T12:04:00.011-04:00

I think I'm on a list kick. Is that okay with everyone? I think the phase will end soon enough, but for now I'm feeling all listy and bulleted (in the typographical way). Good? Are we all in agreement that we'll endure it together for the time-being? (Myself included.)

Thanks a bunch.

Not long ago my friend and I were talking about the things in our kitchen we couldn't live without. I spend a lot of time in the kitchen--well, probably too much time in the kitchen if you ask my thighs. Thank goodness you can't though, because I've sworn them to secrecy. They're in my total control. They also enjoy buttery baked goods. It's a symbiotic relationship.

So we (my friend and I...not my thighs and I) were talking...and we realized that there were some things in our kitchens that were overly [and maybe unhealthily] attached to. For me, its:

1. Microplane/Rasp Grater.

I use my microplane every day....often multiple times per day. Garlic, citrus zest, nutmeg, Parmesan cheese, cinnamon...It might be my very favorite kitchen toy. It's easy to use, easy to clean, and super sharp. (You know, everything I like in a utensil.) They're relatively cheap ($10 or so), and oh-so useful. It's changed the way I cook. (Hopefully in a good way.)

2. Salt Pig

I received my salt pig as a Christmas gift from the same friend with whom I was talking kitchen gadgets with. She knew I'd wanted one for a long time, and it was really a thoughtful gift. My salt pig is another item I use multiple times a day. And really, I can't say enough. Even in the humidity of our New England summer, the salt doesn't clump....it's a little saline miracle! Having the salt out on my counter and available to me whenever I'm cooking saves time...and who doesn't love the little ears? (Note: my salt pig happens to have ears and a tail, but most salt pigs don't. But given the choice between having a salt pig with little ears and and a salt pig without...well...I couldn't be happier with the ears.)

3. Rolling Pin

This was my single favorite find from a trip we took three years ago. Since we're not independently wealthy (darn!), we did a lot of shopping in English charity shops. At one particular shop in Ely, we came across The Perfect Rolling Pin. It's not tapered like the traditional French rolling pin, but it's also not mechanically cumbersome like the common baker's version. I love it with all my heart.

4. Steamer

Oh, man. My mom gave me her old steamer a couple of years ago, and I have used it for at least 2/3 of the meals I make. I tend to scoff at stand-alone appliances--I don't like having things stored on my counters, and I certainly don't like dragging them in all of their bulkiness from their storage places to my counter. (Especially if they're uni-taskers...and further especially when they're redundant.) The steamer, however, is one of my few exceptions. And it gets Super Bonus Points in the summertime for making it so I don't have to use my stove. I try to, you know, avoid having open flames when the air conditioner is on.

5. Barkeeper's Friend

I've said it before, and I'll say it again: Bar Keeper's Friend is the single-most used cleaning product in my house--especially in my kitchen. It cleans anything and everything, including the white grout on my kitchen floor. (Again: Who chooses white grout? Really!??)

What can't you live without when you're cooking?

...and more importantly, can I get it on Amazon?

The Netflix Nanny

2011-07-05T20:08:00.008-04:00

So, this is the part where we all check our judgment about children and their television-viewing habits at the door, okay?

Okay.

We love Netflix. Between Netflix and Hulu I don't feel at all deficient in my consumption of available media (it's quite the opposite, actually). The Amazing Race? Thank you, cbs.com. Good Eats, Colbert (and Stewart), Top Chef, Drop Dead Diva (I know, guilty pleasure), and most network sitcoms? Hulu has it covered. But when it comes to Ian's viewing, Netflix is my main go-to. When Blake is asleep and I need 30 minutes to [fill-in-the-blank Mother's Duty (which includes doing nothing at all)]? Netflix. (Also? Honorable Netflix Mention goes to my decade-delayed West Wing infatuation. I'm six seasons in and completely smitten.)

We. Love. Netflix.

Here is a round-up of a few of our favorite kids' shows that stream instantly on Netflix:

1. Shaun the Sheep.

I have four words for you: FUN. FOR. ALL. AGES. Shaun the Sheep is nothing if it isn't a barrel of clay-mation fun. Shaun is the leader of a darling English flock under the care of a daft farmer and a regimented, whistle-wielding, techno-loving sheepdog named Bitzer. All sorts of shenanigans ensue as Shaun and his comrades try to outwit both Bitzer and the show's main antagonists, the pigs. (Dear Angry Birds, you weren't the first ones to cast pigs as the villains. Shaun's porcine nemeses even wear helmets, sometimes....So I now raise my eyebrow at you, Angry Birds Creator People.) Quite frankly, this show is a heap of ovine laughs.

2. Pingu

And while we're on the subject of dialogue-less claymation, let me tell you a little bit about Pingu. This show centers around Pingu and his family living near the South Pole. The only dialogue consists of what I can only describe as "penguin honks," but the stories are pretty easy to follow. The show is clever and cute--and makes Ian laugh....and laugh, and laugh.

3. Walking With Dinosaurs

I originally got the recommendation for Walking With Dinosaurs from my friend, Bridget. At the time, her post was especially apropos, since Ian's dinosaur obsession was gaining momentum more rapidly than I (or the local library) (or Dinosaur Train) could keep up. I honestly don't think that Walking With Dinosaurs is intended for children as young as Ian, but he's a special kind of infatuated and hasn't been frightened by the very-real-looking dino action. And ask me how much do I love that Ian likes documentaries. Plus....Added bonus? It's narrated by ~~my college boyfriend~~ The Bard Incarnate, Kenneth Branagh.

4. Have Gun, Will Travel

I mention this one not because Ian has an age-inappropriate thing for 1960's television Westerns....but rather because my husband is borderline-obsessed with this show. Have Gun, Will Travel is some sort of justice-by-cowboy affair about a dude named Paladin who "brings criminals into the law." (Joe's words, not mine.) I've never actually seen this show...but because Joe gave it 5 stars, Netflix keeps suggesting other obscure 1960's television Westerns...so I'm forced to change the rating to 1 star. (And then Joe re-gives it 5 stars and the cycle starts all over again.) But in television, to each his own. But Joe's "own" happens to be Have Gun, Will Travel (which I keep typing-then-deleting as Have Fun, Will Travel, which I think would be a much more interesting show).

What are your Netflix favorites? We're always looking for new and fun things to watch, so bring on the recommendations!

We can't rewind, we've gone too far.

2011-07-02T20:31:00.004-04:00

Ian's favorite song [at the moment] is "Video Killed the Radio Star."

I know, right? Pretty awesome.

He walks around the house belting:

"Yoooooooou Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhre, the radiohhhhh stah-er-ah-er-ah-er,

Yoooooooou Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhre, the radiohhhhh stah-er-ah-er-ah-er..."

I'll admit. It's pretty rad. On SO many levels.

(Like, the coolness level; or the my-kid-knows-80's-rock level; or the my-kid-can-memorize-anything level; or the he-has-catchy-taste-in-music level, just to name a few.)

...But I digress.

Point is.....Ian and I had to have a pretty lengthy conversation about what the song is talking about--so as not to have him thinking that some guy named "Video" had a bone to pick with another guy named "The Radio Star." And this Lengthy Conversation opened the Pandora's box of curiosity (on Ian's part) about [19]80's antiquities.

In turn, this got me thinking about all of those things that I grew up doing that he won't. Heaven knows I still remember the very first time I sent an email--I was in high school. He thinks television commercials are awesome--since he watches them so rarely. ("Mom! Stop! I want to see that kitty's potty with the sand in it!") Good grief--the child has set foot in a brick-and-mortar store so infrequently that "...We Got It From Amazon" is part of his rhetorical muscle memory.

Perhaps the best part of all of this is when I get The Look Of Starry-Eyed Wonder when he finds out that, oh, I WROTE LETTERS AND MAILED THEM WITH STAMPS. Or maybe it's The Look That Says My-Mother-Was-Raised-On-The-Prairie when I remind him that people used to GO TO A STORE and TRY ON THE CLOTHES. Whatever it is, our quarter-century age difference is becoming more and more pronounced. And really, it's fascinating.

I guess technology is the new Walked-Uphill-Both-Ways. What think ye?

Photo by Shara.

That one time I wanted to punch Mother Nature in the face.

2011-07-01T11:34:00.005-04:00

So remember that time Mother Nature and I were on speaking terms?

I know.

I don't, either.

Cause, you know, there was that time with the bird in my mailbox, the stampeding geese, the tent caterpillars, our obese raccoon, and our bird-mates, just to name a few. So despite my best efforts, it's like The Great Outdoors turned into a vicious prankster, and I'm its favorite target. Or, to put it more clearly, The Great Outdoors is Fox News and I'm Jon Stewart.

{insert: Mwa ha ha ha ha}

But what's the Latest-and-Greatest, you ask?

Well, that would be Lyme Disease.

Contracted by Ian.

Donated by a rude deer tick that I didn't see.

I had to keep telling myself, "Well at least it isn't ringworm."

And then I kept feeling badly that ringworm was a greater nightmare to me than Lyme disease.

Prognosis? He'll be fine. No long-term issues to be had. He has to consume about a half-gallon of amoxicillin over the course of three weeks, which is...well...fine. At least it tastes good, right?

Meanwhile, I get give Ian yet another "I'm With the Unobservant Mother to my Left" t-shirt (he's getting quite a collection.)

Also? Ewwwwwww, ticks!

Catching up.

2011-06-28T15:28:00.005-04:00

So it's been awhile.

I hope you can pardon the rust on this post. I'll work out the kinks soon enough.

...or not.

(Also? Wow, Blogger! When I left, I had to go into the html--and pretend I knew what I was doing--just to change column widths or header sizes....but now? Holy User-Friendly-Interface, Batman!)

And since we've been apart for 23 long months /sad face/ I thought I'd get you up to speed with the goings-on at our house....starting with what didn't happen in the last 2 years:

1. We didn't move. (Can I get a what-what for that, please?) It wasn't for our lack of trying, however. The market in our area simply hasn't crashed-and-burned in the horrific way we'd been hoping it would. (Also? We keep having friends trying to sell houses. So we keep feeling badly that we're wishin'-and-hopin' for the complete cataclysmic demise of the real estate market. Oh, the guilt.)

2. We didn't get a pet. Unless you count the mice that still come to visit every winter....but they tend to find our accommodations to be...well...lethal. And then there's the ants. OH, THE ANTS!! I've about HadItToHere with those suckers. But (let's all say it together now): "It's alllllllllllll part of liiiiiiiiiiiving in New Englaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand." And quite frankly, it's a small price to pay. We like it here. With all of our hearts.

3. We didn't stop holding our Snow Pile Contest. Cause that's too much fun, now, isn't it? The idea that snow could actually find a suitable climate in which to hang around at least a full month into the Spring? Come on. There's no way we're going to let go of that one.

4. We didn't have a baby in a hospital. Nope. No we didn't. And you know what? It. Was. Awesome.

5. I didn't sleep through the night for 21 months. Oh, Blake. I love you dearly. I do. But you were microscopic when you started interrupting my sleep, and you were a year old when you finally gave up the habit. Lots of blog material there, for sure. Unfortunately I was a bit too woozy for that.

6. My children didn't stop growing up. Not even a little bit. Time didn't slow down. My babies didn't stay babies. My oldest baby starts kindergarten in the fall. My youngest baby eats grown-up food and says things like "bird, dada." My heart hurts. /sigh/

So there you have it. Lots of stuff hasn't been going on around here, that's for sure.

But lots has.

And I can't wait to tell you all about it.

Photo by Shara

I'm Baaaa-ack!

2011-06-27T12:30:00.005-04:00

Two years ago, I decided to take a Blog-Break.

It was kind of a loaded situation....where "loaded" meant "I was 8 weeks pregnant and puking my guts out and heard this talk and my hormones were crazy-busy and...and...AND..." Suffice it to say, I was overwhelmed, under-parenting, and needing some rest-on-many-levels.

But life is funny.

Things re-adjust. Life finds a new balance. Husbands start encouraging wives to pay attention to their blogs again (true story)...

So here I am.

Dusting off the old blog.

It's like riding a bike, isn't it?

Image via

Keep on Keepin' On

2009-07-27T20:54:00.003-04:00

We've started a family blog, should you feel so inclined to see what we're up to. =) Come on over and visit--any time you like.

www.funghifritti.blogspot.com

Over and out, y'all.

Saying Goodbye

2009-07-26T12:04:00.007-04:00

Life is funny...

...and if you're a regular reader of this blog, you know that my life is particularly funny. Don't know how I managed to get dealt such a crazy hand of cards, but I did, and I continue to enjoy every minute of it. My life is nothing if it isn't a constant source of reasons to laugh.

I've been incredibly blessed in my life--to have a brilliant husband and a happy son...to have loyal friends and a tight-knit extended family. My husband is employed, the cars are paid for, the neighborhood is quiet, there's food in the fridge and clothes (cute ones, even!) in the closet. The water runs, the doctor always returns my calls, there are batteries in the remote, the vacuum works and the church is true. I really couldn't ask for more.

Which is why I'm retiring this blog.

Because being a Mommy Blogger isn't as fun as being a Mom. Because playing with my son is far better than telling you about playing with my son. Because experiencing the wonder of mothering and motherhood is more time-sensitive right now than writing about it.

The sun is setting on Ian's toddler years, and I'm beginning my whimpering in that regard. Also diminishing day by day: my coolness in his eyes, which isn't good for the ego...not one bit. The need for more present mother is increasing by the nanosecond....it didn't take me long to figure out that blinking-while-parenting will always ensure that you miss something cute/messy/darling/slightly-dangerous/photo-worthy/hilarious.

There's no doubt I'm going to miss posting here. It's been my outlet during some crazy, crazy stretches of time. It eased my transition from full-time working professional to full-time mom. It reconnected me with people and introduced me to others. And let's face it--comments are like crack: I'm addicted. Nothing strokes one's ego more than a snarky comment on your blog post from a stranger or dear friend thousands of miles away.

But the long-approaching fork in the road has come, and I needed to make a choice.

Thank you for making the last three years and over seven-hundred posts so enjoyable. And now, if you'll indulge me, a few of my favorites.

September 2006, Sealing Day
March 2007, When I got really mad at some missionaries
March 2007, The 50 State Challenge
All of my Brushes with Nature posts
August 2007, Laminator I
January 2008, I'm uptight about saving seats
March 2008, Maple Syrup
April 2008, That one time with the mice...
May 2008, Ian pooped on a plane
October 2008, When camping was my idea
November 2008, Potty Training
January 2009, Rabbit in Flour
March 2009, Mourning my Net-ID
March 2009, Tights
May 2009, Bar Keeper's Friend
June 2009, I don't like breakfast
June 2009, A BYU Do-over

Signing off,
Jen

**edited to add**

I will be starting a family blog that will be updated on occasion. When I get around to starting it, I'll make sure to post the address here. (So don't take me off your Google Reader just yet) =)

What a Week.

2009-07-25T16:11:00.003-04:00

Wow. It's been quite a week.

Not at all the week I expected...but a week none the less.

Perhaps I'll tell you about it...at some point in the future....

But suffice it to say, we're back to reality....somewhat.

Weather for Camp

2009-07-21T06:37:00.001-04:00

So, just in case you're curious...which you're probably not...but just in case....Here's the weather for my week at camp:

Going Dark

2009-07-20T20:42:00.002-04:00

Hey, guess what.

I'm going to Girls' Camp tomorrow.

No, really!

I mean it!

I'm really going!

Seriously!

So I'll be Tweeting in secret....and maybe sneaking in a few posts here and there....but you know...I'll mostly be trying not to get lyme disease and/or skin cancer and avoiding hiking at all costs.

Other than that, I'm super excited. (Especially since this sort of camping involves mattresses and a microwave and Popsicles and sugar and spice and everything nice).

To keep you occupied, please enjoy this clip from the quintessential camping movie, Troop Beverly Hills.

Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing

2009-07-19T17:24:00.001-04:00

Oh, how I love the MoTab.

Product Recommendations II

2009-07-17T20:53:00.003-04:00

Since I know how much you all like Bar Keeper's Friend now, I thought I'd pass on another little nugget I've been pining over....a nugget which, today, soared to life's-dream-realized levels.

My friend, Heather, wears these skirts. And I like skirts. I'd wear them all day, every day if I could. So after getting a glowing recommendation from my buddy, and after finding a coupon on Old Navy Weekly, Ian and I set out for the O.N. looking for this:

And yesiree, I found it! Three, as a matter of fact....and I'm pretty confident that's what I'll be wearing all summer. I'm sort of "anti pants" like that. I discriminate. But you would, too, if you were wearing that skirt. Soooooo comfy.

I was so pleasantly surprised--because lately, I've had a lot of bad luck with Old Navy's clothes. The last few things I've bought have been rather cheaply made and the normal wear-and-tear of the washing machine caused holes. But this skirt! Ohhhhhh, this skirt! Go grab yourself one...or two....or five..... Because you won't regret it. Your summer will never be the same.

It's right up there in satisfaction-level with the sweatshirt recommended last year by Cicada. Old Navy is right on its way to redeeming itself in my book.

The Unplugged Update

2009-07-16T21:45:00.000-04:00

It's been over seven months since we kicked cable to the curb. Just thought I'd give you a little update.

Do I miss it?

Not a bit.

Do I wish I could get my fix of Top Chef every Wednesday evening?

Kinda.

Am I excited to have an extra $30/month?

Youbetcha.

Thirty dollars is a nice little change chunk to have burning a hole in my pocket. (And, well, it has to be in my pocket these days, because I have yet to replace my doomed purse.) But, really, you can get a lot of swag with thirty buckaroonies! To put it in context, $30 can:

buy my family half-a-week of groceries
park for an hour and a half in downtown Boston
grab 50 stems of gorgeous gladiolas from Whole Foods this week
purchase 12 dozen locally-laid eggs (and get a free goat peck in addition)
earn a shiny WBUR much during the pledge drive

The list goes on, and on, and on. And since we'd like to purchase a home in one of the most collapse-resistant real estate markets in the country, we could use every last penny. (And we're talking about a serious boat-load of pennies, y'all.)

Point is, I think my brain is all-the-less mushy now that I don't have the burden of 500 channels weighing me down. I'd highly recommend the no-cable life---and really, it certainly doesn't mean a tv-free life. {Perish the thought!}.....heaven knows I have enough Antiques Roadshow and Jeopardy episodes on my DVR to last a good long time.

Answer: This decision, while painstakingly made, causes one's self esteem to sky-rocket.
Question: Who is Ken Jennings?
Alex: Wrong. What is cannnnnnnceling cable. In Canada. Because I'm Canadian. And I make sure there are at least two clues about O-Canada-My-Frozen-Native-Land in each episode.

Toddler Love

2009-07-15T13:25:00.002-04:00

I'm on my way out the door---we're headed to the Cape for my grandparents' 50th anniversary party (go them!!)....

{And really, now that the mercury has risen above 80 degrees, I'm happy to escape to the Cape [ha!] for a day or two for a reprieve from the heat. There. I said it. I'm a wuss.}

But before I go, I must tell you about the things I found in my toaster (while it was toasting my bread) this morning:

1 pair of fingernail clippers
1 plastic outlet cover
1 double-A battery

I'll give you three guesses as to the culprit.

I will now move my toaster to a height above 37".

Alright--in the words of Ian, "Let's hit the road!"

Because, apparently, the universe DOESN'T hate me...

2009-07-14T19:06:00.004-04:00

...though I can still make a pretty good case that it does.

[For the record, I don't know where I went horribly wrong with this blog as it suddenly took that turn wherein I talk about nothing but the weather and the condition of the roads...]

But I tell you what--I sat outside for a few hours this afternoon and {brace yourselves} there was nary a drop of rain to be had. No, not one. I hardly knew what to do with myself--in fact, at one point, Ian looked at me and said, "I'm not doing very well outside. Can we go inside?" At which point I kindly explained to him what the outside was, and how it's important to his Vitamin D levels (and my sanity) to spend some time there.

So he commenced to play in the dirt like he'd never played before, and I commenced to chatter away with a friend with a new resolve to chatter away with friends outside more often.

And...guess what! I'm in a terrific mood!

It's funny--our nine-month winter doesn't really make me that cranky...but 6 weeks of home confinement-due-to-rain made me want to grab Mother Nature by the shoulders and shake her a little bit...okay, a lot...and drag her to my house and make her clean all of the finger prints off my windows and have her finish my basement so Ian has more space to play and get her to install better lighting in my living room, and have her pay for my therapy...and...and....the list is endless. She's going to have quite a to-do list if we ever cross paths, Mother Nature and I.

I wonder if this is how Martha Stewart felt when she had that little ankle-doohickie attached at-all-times.

But I'll bet that during her home confinement it was SUNNY.

Just sayin'.

Let's play a game.

2009-07-13T14:45:00.003-04:00

...And let's call it "See how many tissues Jen can go through in one day."

Every summer it happens, without fail--I get a cold. Knocks me out for a few days and then I'm back again...only this time with a personal resolution to buy up stock in Proctor & Gamble.

(Though, to be quite honest, I thought I had the whole "Summer Cold 2009" thing covered back in April.)

Wrong.

So here we are, in the first string of warm, sunny days Boston has seen since approximately 1977, and I'm going through tissue after tissue after nap after tissue after orange juice after tissue after tissue. And I don't care how lotion-y these tissues are--after going through a box-a-day, my nose still hates me.

But, as we all know, moms don't get sick days. There's no one we can call who can take over or fill in for us last-minute. It's part of the job description. It's sort of like being a mail carrier--you know, that snow, sleet, dark-of-night business--except with more stuff attached. Like germs and PMS and the swine flu and migraines and bad moods and worse-than-bad moods...and...and...and... But would I trade it for anything? No.

I would like to thank PBS, however, for the fine quality programming that allowed me to take a much-needed nap this morning.

I would also like to thank Ian, who is taking his first full nap in over a month. Probably because he feels bad for me. Also: he knows that if he takes a nap, he gets gum.

Mostly, he's just the best kid---ever.

Sniff. Snort. Snot. Repeat.

j2.0

One of my favorites.

2009-07-12T13:18:00.001-04:00

My sinuses hate all of us

2009-07-11T20:32:00.002-04:00

Since I can't manage string three coherent thoughts together no matter how hard I try, here's a little peppy something to go with our weekend. (Cause, let's face it--you're not going to get any pep from me today...not with the amount of tissues and/or decongestant I should be going through).

P.S. Glee totally lives up to its name. Love, love, love it.

It's my blog, and I'll brag if I want to.

2009-07-09T22:49:00.003-04:00

So I took Ian to the dentist on Monday.

I'm quite confident that I was more nervous than he...as I know how children can be on their first trip to the dentist. And when I say I was more nervous than he, I'd like you to know that he was not nervous at all. After all--he knew he'd get to wear sunglasses, and he's all about the sunglasses...Also, he likes brushing his teeth. He thinks it's awesome. And how couldn't it be? It's parent-sanctioned spitting.

After getting recommendations from friends, we chose a pediatric dental practice in the next town over--not a single adult patient to be seen. The waiting room itself was kid heaven. (Including a set of shoebox-sized legos....yeah....like I said.....Kid Heaven....Not only do they let you spit, but you can build a wall around yourself to keep out invaders. Note to self: invent shoebox-sized legos for grown-ups.)

And Ian loved every minute of his check-up. (Also: they had prizes for being a good patient. Side note: I think the OB/Gyn should have prizes for being a good patient. Just sayin'.) And the worst part of the whole experience?

At the beginning of the visit, they asked Ian, "Did you brush your teeth this morning?"

{silence}

I FORGOT TO HAVE HIM BRUSH HIS TEETH ON THE MORNING OF HIS FIRST DENTIST APPOINTMENT IN HIS LIFE, EVER.

You'd think I'd remember such a thing. I'm pretty confident they were going to send me to the Parent Dungeon or slap a Scarlet 'T' on my chest or something. Who forgets that? Seriously!

So other than that little scene, it was wonderful. I happen to love getting my teeth cleaned and I'm glad Ian does, too. Cause let's face it: was I truly prepared for a potential melt-down? Not really.

But the visit was sans melt-down and prize-ful, which made for happy son, happy mama. I'm bursting with pride to the point that I can hardly stand it anymore. Oh...and also?

NO CAVITIES.
{huzzah!}
I think I'll schedule a visit for myself.

tin cans, purse....whatever

2009-07-08T20:20:00.003-04:00

image from mitchster.com

There are lots of local farms in our general vicinity. Lots.

So when my friend called and asked if I wanted to check one out with her, I, of course, said yes. After all, it was only threatening rain....and these days, I'd plan an entire outdoor wedding on the forecast of threatening....cause let's face it--that's the best we're going to get until the sun comes out again in January, at which point it's practically useless cause it'll be forty-below.

Anyway.

So we put on our wellies and hopped in the car and headed to the farm....which was adorable. Complete with organic chocolate milk that--brace yourselves--comes in glass bottles. Like the kind that used to get delivered to Lassie's house every episode. "What, girl? What do you say? Timmy sliced off his finger on a broken milk bottle? Okay. Go fetch the sheriff!!"

So of course I bought some....Ninety-cent-bottle-deposit-and-all. Also, I bought some eggs-that-were-laid-yesterday, which was the true reason my friend and I were really there. Everything else was just a bonus. (I like farm-fresh, no-frills eggs, mainly cause it further justifies the validity of raw cookie dough as a legitimate nutrition source....and who knows what kinda "frills" are in those eggs that go for a-dollar-a-dozen at the Market Basket. I love me the Market Basket, I do....but the eggs sort of freak me out).

What's nice about this farm is that you can go into the barn and see those chickens that laid the eggs that were now in the trunk of my car. (Along with the almost-as-good-as-BYU-chocolate-milk-chocolate-milk.) Also in the barn? A frustrated pig named Lilac....and trust me....with all the gruntin' and groanin' and carryin' on she did, she did not strike us much like a "Lilac" sort of gal....Also....some goats. Goats that were used to being fed.

And in my mind, goats are a lot like geese. They know who's in charge. They know from whence the food comes.

People.

More specifically, People With Kids.

Suffice it to say, we fit the profile. And, boy, did those goats know it. Today I discovered the true power of a goat's neck--I'm now convinced that, somewhere along the way, goats descended from giraffes...because those suckers were long.

How long, you ask?

Long enough to scare the bejeebers out of my friend when an extra-frisky goat started eating her purse....WHILST ON HER SHOULDER.

I should have reminded her to check and make sure all her credit cards were there. Because you never know--goats are pretty smart....and it would be such a shame if one of them bought a house in Boca with her identity.

A cryin' shame.

Tips.

2009-07-07T11:26:00.006-04:00

Over the past few weeks, I've encountered some less-than desirable customer-service/job performance situations...the ones that make me shake my head and wonder, "Really? Do you really think your job is secure in the middle of a recession when there are thousands of wildly overqualified individuals who are standing on the sidelines just waiting for you to mess up so they can go back to work?"

Okay, so every situation wasn't quite like that....But it got me thinking: What if more people made their living based on tips? Translation: What if more people could earn more if they performed better? I realize that the term "bonus" is sort of black-listed right now....but I'm not talking about people who are already making seven figures a year. I'm talking about people I actually run into on a regular basis....people who can easily make or break my day.

So may I present to you my Unsolicited List of Occupations That Would Benefit From Customer Tips:

Phlebotomists: I've had some great ones and I've had some pretty horrible ones. The former can draw three vials of my blood without my notice....while the latter somehow always manages to think, "Instead of trying the other arm, I'm just going to take this large, sharp needle and wiggle it around inside her arm until I accidentally make contact with my target, thus rendering her veins swiss cheese."

The guy bagging my groceries: I had to bring my bread back into the store yesterday because my bagger had put my bag of apples and my Simply Orange juice on top of my bread. Really? Also...I love my reusable grocery bags--I do. But what makes them think that it's okay to bag a full week's groceries in THREE bags? (Especially when I give them six?) I've spent many a moment in the parking lot REbagging my own groceries so I could actually carry them. (Often, in one (1) bag, I'll find my gallon of milk, 2 gallons of juice, all of my canned goods, and my guilty-pleasure-Fresca. Not kidding). Side note: Now, when I get to check-out, I make sure to say, "Could you please use all of my bags? It makes them easier for me to carry."

Airport Customer Service People: In January, we were bumped from a flight and received three vouchers for round-trip travel anywhere in the continental United States. (Does anyone else hate that caviat? Come on, United! Stop being the Hawaii haters!) It wasn't until a few weeks ago that we decided how we were going to use them, and called the airline to book tickets. Which was great. All went smoothly. But. When you use vouchers with United, you must bring them in person to the airport to confirm your reservation and pick up your tickets. Fine. I'll drive down to Logan for the sake of 3 free airline tickets. And I did. Well, we did....since going to the airport is not a drive-alone-and-park scenario....if you're sane. So Joe dropped me off and started circling while I went inside. It was about 7pm, and I was waived right up to the counter where a nice man asked what I needed, and--when I told him--said he was happy to help. Everything was going well. I would have TOTALLY put a tip in his tip jar. The transaction was nearly done and the tickets were printing when his supervisor came over and we had the following conversation:

Supervisor: You know we stop ticketing at 5pm, right?
Me: Oh, I didn't know that. On the phone, your customer service people said to come before midnight.
Supervisor: Well, we stop ticketing at 5pm.
Me (thinking: Um....you're checking people into flights at all hours, but you can't print tickets?): Oh, I'm sorry. They just told me to be here by midnight, and this gentleman was nice enough to help me.
Supervisor: Do you know who you talked to on the phone?
Me (thinking: uhhhhh....someone in India, so you have a 1-in-a-billion chance of guessing): I don't. It was just a call center.
Supervisor: He wasn't supposed to give you your tickets. The only reason we're still here is because the weather is bad and flights are delayed.
Me (thinking: um, the only reason you're here is because you have flights still leaving and passengers to check-in and if you go outside, you'll likely melt): Well, I really appreciate the help.
Supervisor: Well, just remember that we won't do this for you next time.

Huh. (Meanwhile, guy-printing-my-tickets looks like the proverbial deer-in-the-headlights). And everything was going so well! I'm just going to assume that she had just had the worst day of her life...But I will remember for next time, ma'am.

Other Ideas:
Target Associates
Drivers' Ed Instructors
Your OB/Gyn
Librarians
DMV workers
Meteorologists (I'll give $20 right now just to hear a forecast of sun. It doesn't even have to be true.)
Teachers

Whom do you wish you could tip for some better service?

House Hunters

2009-07-06T15:16:00.000-04:00

"I had made it to the Big Time, so I moved to the Big City and bought the Big House. Now I had real responsibilities. If something goes wrong with your house, it's your problem. And boy, can things go haywire. There's electricity and fuse boxes and three-prong outlets. It's like living in a Space Station. No one warned me that life would involve science, except my science teacher. But, of course, he's going to say that. He's got a job to protect."

-Stephen Colbert
in I Am America and So Can You

We would like to buy a house, husband and I. Eventually, that is. Because--as I may have mentioned before--I still need to introduce our friend, Median Household Income, to our other friend, Median Single-Family Home Price. It's fairly obvious that they haven't met--at least not recently, and at least not in the greater-Boston metro area.

So, wanting to be responsible home-buyers, and in an attempt to fit in some masochistic driving into our lives (via needing to arrive in Watertown, Massachusetts [the location of our class...NOT where we live] AT RUSH HOUR), we signed up for a First-Time Home-Buying class. That took place at 5:45pm and lasted until 9:30pm each night for three nights. (Sounds like a great way to spend three evenings, eh?)

And, really, I was sort of surprised to see that Astronaut Training was not on the agenda--since we'd have to go clear to outer space to find a decent, well-kept, suburban home...in a good school district...within a 15-minute drive of Joe's office...on at least a quarter acre...within the boundaries of our current ward...all for less than we want to spend. Come on, really. Is that too much to ask?

The class, on the whole, provided a net gain of home-buying information. Though, I would say that if you're savvy enough, you could get about 90% of the information by yourself...late at night...just you and the internets. Also--you'll have some explaining to do the next morning when you have those ghastly dark circles under your eyes. Unless you're me...and then people will just sort of expect them...cause that's just the way you are. (Wherein I raise my fist and curse some aspects of my genetics).

That other 10% of what I'd label as "Information Worth Driving on Route 16 at Rush Hour," was delivered by several professionals "in the industry." And by "in the industry," I'm pretty sure I mean "friends of the guy putting on the class." Just sayin'. Regardless, they were quite stinkin' informative....When was the last time you got to pick the brain of a home inspector for two hours? I didn't think so.

Overall, the class basically scared the home-buying pants off me--though I've maintained my skepticism about this being "a good time to buy." At least in this area. (If you haven't yet noticed via my rant-filled chagrin on the issue--real estate prices here are lagging in their free-fall....Translation: most sellers are kidding themselves.)

Does that mean I'm not browsing real estate listings in my spare time? Not a chance. But if you'd like to be my neighbor in suburban Neptune, just let me know. Maybe we can go in on a multi-family.

Freedom.

2009-07-05T08:30:00.001-04:00

Fourth

2009-07-04T09:14:00.001-04:00

It wouldn't be the Fourth of July without a little installment of 1776. Enjoy.

In Other News.....

2009-07-02T16:20:00.002-04:00

I've been posted over at Mormon Mommy Blogs today---check it out!