Alright, You Got Me!

I like to watch the news while I'm exercising at the gym. I've found that it's a great way to kill two birds with one stone. I'm working out, so I'm taking care of my body. And, if I watch the news while I'm sweating my way through the half hour weight loss setting on that silly elliptical machine, then I'm also catching up on current events. Which makes me feel much better about myself. Honestly, I wouldn't have known Sept. 11th occurred if I hadn't have accidentally stumbled past the news on my way to Nickelodeon that morning. It's pathetic how little I know about things happening outside of my home. But, if I watch the news while I work out, then at least I know the current weather and the biggest news stories everyday (yes, I do exercise 6 out of 7 days. I'm there so much, I'm starting to make “friends” with the other regulars. But, have I lost any weight? No. That's another story for another day though).

Anyways, so I was watching the news while I worked out earlier this week when I saw a story on the Tulip Festival out in Mt. Vernon. It showed fields of tulips blooming in all their colorful, spring heralding glory. I didn't have my earphones plugged into the tv (I was listening to some aggressive rock 'n roll to get me through the last agonizing ten minutes of my cardio), but the little text box at the bottom of the tv assured me that it was, indeed, the Tulip Festival. So, I told Chad that it was time to pile into the car and make our annual pilgrimage to Mt. Vernon. We charged the camera battery, cleared off our memory card and piled into the car to make the 90 minute drive. We hit a little traffic and nearly ran out of gas, but eventually made it. We stopped at the Pickle Barn to use the “loo” (as Mikey would say) and pick up a map. A few more minutes of driving, a small detour through a very rural neighborhood after getting slightly lost and we finally arrived at our destination. We spilled out of the car to see fields and fields of...green. Green, blossom-free stalks. As far as the eye could see. The tulips hadn't bloomed yet.

Ha, ha, ha. Alright Kong 5 news. You got me good. I totally fell for your trick. Playing footage from last year's Tulip Festival, huh? Very clever. I wasn't the only one you fooled either. We ran into another poor soul dragging his camera and tripod through the field of tulip stems, completely perplexed by the lack of flowers.

In the end, it wasn't a completely wasted afternoon. I had a great time with my family. And we did see several gorgeous fields of daffodils. All the same, I'm switching to Channel 4...

Am I the Only One?

Alright all you moms out there, do your kids ever say something that totally frightens you? I had a couple experiences this week that made me realize that Mikey and Natty are apparently taking in every single thing that I say, think or do. Which realization immediately sent me into a panicked frenzy, searching through my mental Rolodex for anything I may have said/done in the past week that I wouldn't want my kids noticing and repeating. I don't think I fully comprehend just how much these little munchkins understand. I often catch myself talking to Chad about "grown up" things under the assumption that the kids aren't listening, and if they are, that they won't understand anyway. Hey--get your minds out of the gutter guys! I'm not referring to anything like that. Just conversation about things that they don't need to know or be worried about. Here's some examples from this week alone:

We went to dinner with some friends Tuesday night. Their family consists of a stay-at-home mom, a dad and a five year old boy, who we'll call Chris. This week Chris announced that "If Hillary wins, we're moving to Canada" and later "Hillary is evil." Chris is five. Chris' dad is an AP Government teacher. Yep. I'm guessing Dad and Chris share a lot of the same political views.

Later on in the week, Chad was sitting in his office, working. Natalie ran in and asked, "Dad, did you send your work to Max?" Um...what? Max is Chad's immediate supervisor at Lynda.com. Lynda's main offices are in Ojai, California. Natalie hasn't met Max. Natalie hasn't been to the Lynda offices. I can barely remember Max's name, and Chad talks to me about his work all the time. How on earth did Natalie know that? She can't remember what comes between "R" and "T" in the Alphabet song, but she knows the names of all of Chad's supervisors? Maybe I need to put more effort into this whole "home schooling" thing.

Last example. Chad and I LOVE to watch "The Soup" with Joel McHale on Friday nights. If you've never watched it, you totally should. It is so incredibly hilarious. And Joel is a Seattle native, so you have a moral obligation to support his career anyhow. Anyways, we totally love the show and never miss a Friday night. So, Friday morning Mikey bellies up to the counter for breakfast and says, "So, you watching The Soup tonight?" Yikes. That show is on at like 10:30 pm. Mikey goes to bed at 7pm. How does he know what we're doing 3 1/2 hours past his supposed nightly retirement? Scary. Which begs the question, what else does he know?

I guess I'm rambling. It's really not that big of a deal. So, my kids know a few names and habits from my life. Not that serious. It just makes me wonder how much else they know. What all are they noticing, processing and regurgitating? Am I going to have to pay thousands of dollars in the future for therapy to treat things they're picking up on now? Thank goodness I don't cuss. Heaven knows I don't need one more thing to worry about them picking up on!

Alright Already!

Just for the record, I wasn't ignoring your requests for photos. For whatever reason, my camera decided to go on strike and refused to upload anything to my computer. Boo! Here are a few pictures. It doesn't look bad from a distance, but if you look up close you can tell her hair is like a million different lengths. We're going to call it a "punky," or perhaps "alternative" hairstyle. The hat helps.

Okay, So I Was Wrong...

Natalie's hair had gotten very long. Too long. It was so long that it was constantly knotted or stuck to the food plastered down her chin and inside the crevices of her neck. It got caught in everything--zippers, doors, glasses, you name it. I knew it needed to be cut. But, I just couldn't bring myself to do it. It took so incredibly long for her hair to grow in. For the first year of her life I had to stick pathetic little bows to the top of her hair with Karo syrup so that people could tell she was, in fact, a girl. Then we graduated to the almost non-existent ponytail that stuck straight up on the top of her head. Finally, she had hair. Long, girly hair that could be braided and clipped and put in cute little pig tails with ribbons. How could I get rid of something that I waited so long to have? I didn't think it was possible.

Then this morning I looked at her and realized it had to be done. She was a mess. That mop on the top of her head could no longer be tamed by one mere mom--no matter how much anti-tangle spray was brought into the mix. In a moment of haste and spontaneity, I plopped Natty up on the bathroom counter and armed myself with a comb and a pair of shears. Surely, I (with all my college education and life experience) could easily trim a few inches off my daughter's hair without any problems. How hard could it possibly be. I am strong, I am invincible, I am woman. I could do this. I didn't need to pay someone $15 to do something I could do myself. Right? Wrong. I was wrong. Apparently there is more to it than just "cutting a few inches off in a straight line" as I so confidently told my husband right before I headed face first into Natalie's first truly bad hair day. Oh well. At least she's only three. I just won't take any pictures for awhile. And if anyone asks, I'll just say something about how you "really can't trust those ladies at Fantastic Sam's."

Cooking With Kevin

To say we are fans of "The Office" is akin to saying that fish like water. We don't like it, we need it. When the writers' strike began, something in us died. We didn't just lose a show, we lost a group of very dysfunctional friends. To try to ease the pain, we bought Season Three on dvd and consoled ourselves with special features. One of which was "cooking with Kevin." It was hilarious. And genius. Hello? Can you make creme brulee using only a toaster oven, some pudding and a package of sweet 'n low? Well, Kevin can.

We watched that clip twice. Then we set out on a mission to recreate it. Step one: accumulate the needed equipment. A few weeks after watching said clip, we found a toaster oven on clearance at Walmart for $10. Toaster oven? Check. A week later Chad went to Kansas City on a business trip and stayed at a hotel with a continental breakfast bar. He rolled out of bed early, after some 14 hours of traveling and a mere 4 hours of sleep, so that he could get to the breakfast bar before it closed down. It just so happens that sweet 'n low is a staple at most breakfast bars. 2 packages of sweet 'n low? Check. Finally, weeks and hundreds of miles later, all we needed was pudding. But, alas, do you know how impossible it is to find pudding in a metal can? We nearly gave up. Then inspiration hit. We bought a couple of tapioca snack packs and poured them into a metal muffin tin that would fit in our toaster oven. Pudding? Check. We were ready.

Next came the assembly. I poured the pudding into the muffins tins and Chad sprinkled the sweet 'n low over the top. We carefully slid the pan into the toaster oven, set it on "broil" and watched the magic begin. Kevin's creme brulee. We were ecstatic. It was as if our kitchen had been mystically transformed into the Scranton branch of Dunder Mifflin. We swore if we listened close enough we could hear Pam answering the phones and Dwight booking rooms at his rustic beet farm bed 'n breakfast. We were at one with The Office.

It was a beautiful thing, my friends. For a few minutes we were able to live a scene out of our favorite show. Are we obsessed? Maybe. Was there perhaps something better for us to do with our time and our focus? Probably. But was the creme brulee delicious? Yes. Oh heavens yes. Warm and gooey with a delicious crispy crust. Kevin is a culinary genius. And we are fans.

The Most Action I've Ever Gotten At Church

So, it's been brought to my attention that I haven't updated my blog for a really long time. It's true. I just haven't had anything to say, I guess. I keep waiting for inspiration to hit---some lengthy but poetic observation that will deeply affect all who read it. Well, I guess I'll just have to settle for a few random things that struck me as funny.

First off, I got to substitute for awhile in Sunbeams today (the Sunday School class for 3 & 4 year olds). The little boy sitting next to me kept rubbing my back, squeezing my shoulder and blowing into the side of my face, greatly tickling my ear. It dawned on me as I was sitting there, trying to get this cute, but very active, little boy to sit still, that this was perhaps the most action I had ever gotten at church. The silver lining of this little storm cloud? His breath was surprisingly minty for a three year old.

The second incident happened on the way to the gym on Friday. I was complaining to Chad about how little I wanted to lift weights and get all sweaty and icky. Mikey turned to me and said, "Come on mom--you just gotta let go of your inhabitants and go for it." This was really amusing to me for two big reasons. 1.) I don't have any inhabitants, but if I did, I imagine the process of letting go of them would be really comical. 2.) He obviously was confusing the word "inhabitants" with "inhibitions" and I don't know where he learned either. It definitely wasn't from me. I spend my days watching Dora and playing with play doh. I don't have a habit of using words with more than two syllables.

Lastly, on Saturday my dear sweet husband got to play the part of Samuel the Lamanite at our Primary Super Saturday. It was great. He looked adorable in his native garb. The funniest part, though, was watching him drive away in our Honda Pilot, with his head gear blowing proudly in the wind as he sped down 256th St. Quite the sight.

So, that was my week. Sorry, no amazing inspirations or words to live by, except for maybe this: This month, may we all try harder to just "let go of our inhabitants and go for it."

p.s. Phil, if you are reading this--GO WORK ON YOUR BLOG! I think I speak for all of us when I say we'd love to snoop on the Maloys courtesy of blogspot.

Hurray for Sunny Days!!!

Now, let me explain myself, lest you think my love of the Pacific Northwest has grown cold. Today was a sunny day only in relation to the rest of the days this week. Really, I should say that it was partly cloudy instead of fully cloudy. It was still mostly overcast and reached a high of a “warm” 43 degrees. But, the sun did peak out every once in awhile, and it was dry enough to take all our outside toys with us to the park next door. We painted on the side walk, played with our cap guns, slid down the slides, raced across the black top and held a rousing game of hide-and-go-seek (during which Natalie “hid” behind a bench. She couldn't see us, which apparently is enough in the mind of a three year old). It was gorgeous outside. Blue skies, big fluffy white clouds, a cool, crisp breeze. Just perfect. I love where we live. I'm pretty sure this is what my corner of heaven is going to look like!