Adventures In Grocery Shopping, Part II

I was out getting groceries and such with the boys Saturday night, when suddenly, nature called. It was more like an urgent scream, or I would have ignored it, because I hate, hate, hate public restrooms. Apparently, Owen does too. I parked my cart of stuff outside the door, grabbed the boys and went into the restroom. As soon as we got in there, Owen started screaming, like he does at the doctor's when they measure his head circumference, or make him sit on the scale. He didn't stop the entire time we were in there. As I was washing my hands, a lady came in the restroom, and Owen saw his chance. He bolted for the door as fast as his tiny legs could carry him. Luckily, he didn't make it. After we left, and I put him back in the cart, he continued to sob for a few more minutes; fat little tears just streaming down his cheeks. It was so pathetic.

The rest of the trip went off without a hitch, and I made some great purchases (although, when David saw the bill, he thought I probably could have done without some things). I got the boys cute little vests and polo shirts to wear to church, because I'm tired of trying to figure out which old Onesie has the fewest stains on it and looks like it might pass for a nice shirt. I guess they're finally old enough to start wearing church clothes, and maybe in a year or two we'll actually get them little neckties. We'll see. I also got them some little close-toed sandals, so I don't have to try to rush around trying to find their socks. They seem to loose an insane amount of socks, and it's too warm for socks, anyway. They love the sandals. They love shoes, in general (they take after me! Or maybe they just love them because it means they'll be going outside soon).

Speaking of outside, my tulips and daffodils finally bloomed. I'm still waiting on my lilac bush; it has some buds, but they haven't made much progress past that point. My freesia and my lilies look like weeds. I hope they bloom soon, because people keep mistaking them as being part of the grass, and they're getting a little trampled.
The boys just love my tulips and daffodils. They pat them, and "hug" them, and laugh all the while. It's really quite funny, until recently, as they've discovered that if you tug on the petals they fall off! I don't think those flowers will last much longer, so I took some pictures. I took them the other night, after the boys went to bed.

And also, here's a picture of Owen and Drew in their wagon.

Like Wearing the Same Dress As Someone Else at Prom

... That's actually never happened to me (I only went to one boy's choice school dance), but I think I know now what it may feel like.

I made my little (well, it was big) Candyland Cake for the cake auction fund raiser at church. I was so proud of it, even though I borrowed the idea from Parents Magazine; it took a long time to make and there was a lot of tempting candy to have to resist, and it just looked really good. I got it over to the church in one piece, and set it down on the table right next to another Candyland Cake. I was a little bit sad. They started the auctioning on the cakes, and some really good looking cakes were going for $25-$70. They got to mine; it went for $25. That wasn't too bad; at least it sold for more money than I put into it. When they got to the other Candyland cake, it sold for $50. I don't mean to be prideful, but I think mine looked a little bit better (although the other may have had slightly more candy on top, if you can imagine that). But the bishop's wife made the other one, and I guess more people know her than me, so they were more inclined to bid for hers. But the whole thing kind of bummed me out a little*. So next year, I'm going to make the most decadent, tasty and aesthetically pleasing cake these people have ever seen. And hopefully it will be the only one like it.

*I know it doesn't really matter, because all the proceeds went for the youth, but still... I at least wanted to be original. I guess you can only be original to a certain extent when you get your idea out of a magazine that so many people read.

I've Been Interviewed!

Thanks, Ellie, for these great questions! They required a ton of thought, except for #3, which was easy to answer.

1. If you never married and had children what is one thing you would have liked to do with your life?

I would definitely have traveled more, and also completed my schooling. To combine the two, I think I would have gone to gem school in Thailand, because I've always been interested in gemstones, and I really, really want to go back to Thailand. But because I've never settled on one thing that I want to be when I grow up, I would also like to learn how to make fake teeth for people as a Dental Lab Technician. I hear they make bank.

2. Name a moment that stands out in your mind that defines who you are today.
(Get out some crackers; this is cheesy) When I found out I was pregnant with twins. I was unmarried, and not sure I was ready to get married, and thinking I would give my baby up for adoption so he/she could have a real family. But then I found out there were two babies, and for the first time I felt very much at peace about everything, like it was all happening for a reason. I knew I would marry David, and we'd raise those babies, and it would probably be really hard, but it would work out (even if it takes 'til we're 50 and the kids are out of the house...). So that's who I am now: a wife and a mom. There will be time later to get more schooling and a career, but for now, this is all I need.

3. Favorite comfort food is?

Wendy's Spicy Chicken Sandwich. And the fries and drink to go with it. I was having a "Terrible Tuesday" last week and I went for one of these babies, and the gal at the drive through messed up my order. I didn't notice 'til I got home. She gave me a bacon cheeseburger. And it was semi-tasty, but didn't satisfy.

4. Do you have a special talent you wish you could use, but there is no time for it right now, if so, what is it and if you had the time, how would you use that special talent?
There are lots of things I'd like to do if I had more time. But I think right now my mind is geared toward sewing (probably because of the family quilt project my mom's side of the family is working on). I'd like to make clothes and blankets for people especially those that have new babies. But it seems like by the time I finish something, the baby has grown out of whatever I made them.

5. Country or City Life? Tell me why or why not.

I love being in the country. When I think country, I think of my dad's house: five miles outside of a teeny-tiny-population-400-people town. Surrounded by lava rocks, dirt and sagebrush. I love the clear air, wide open spaces, waving at people I don't know just because they're the only people around, I love animals and taking long walks that end up with having to walk a long way to get home. But, I also crave interaction, even if it's just a cashier ringing up my purchases and making change, and I'm a shameless people watcher. So I gotta have some stores or malls or something. Big cities frighten me, so I would say Small Town Life is best, though I could probably do well in the country if I had my hubby and kids there and maybe a trampoline and some bicycles, and a city somewhere nearby. Is that wishy-washy enough?

If you want to play, here’s what you do.
1. Leave me a comment saying, “Interview me.” Leave your email address as well.
2. I will respond by emailing you five questions. I get to pick the questions.
3. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

Easy-peasy, and fun! Thanks, again, Ellie!

Too Big For My Britches

Who invented Maternity Chic? I mean, who decided that a bulging belly is not enough of a sign that a woman is pregnant and that said woman needs a shirt with pink rhinestones that spell out "Baby" or something equally silly and redundant?? All I want is a shirt (and perhaps some pants) that fits. I don't need the glitter or the little embroidered stork (I never believed that myth anyway), and I certainly don't need any shirt that says, "Does this make me look fat?" or "Fragile: Precious Cargo." That's all I will say about that.

Maybe some of you have heard of our on-going battle with the boys and the dog food. We've resorted to putting the dog's food and water dishes up on the counter when Drew and Owen are on the loose, and I feel kind of bad for the dog; I worry that he'll get dehydrated or something. Today I left his dishes on the floor, hoping that maybe, just maybe, the boys would leave them alone and Vito could eat and drink. Well, Owen beat him to it. Owen came out of his playroom today with a little orange cup, of the kind that nest and stack, dipped it in the dog's water and took a drink. He's not very good at using regular cups, so he kind of sputtered a little, which is how I discovered what he was up to. I looked over at him, his little eyes watering, water running down his chin, soaking his shirt. He looked back at me and said, "Mmmm." I just had to laugh. And move the dog's dishes back onto the counter.

Drew has learned how to say uh-oh. I guess most kids learn it when they're a lot younger; I heard my friend's little ten-month-old say it the other day. It's not a word I ever really use, though, so I don't know where Drew picked it up. Probably in nursery. He says it more like, "Oh-ho," and he makes the cutest little face when he says it. He was in his playroom this morning as I was cleaning up breakfast and I heard him saying, "Oh-ho, oh-ho, oh-ho" over and over. I'm not sure what he was doing, but he was having fun.

Our church is having a spaghetti dinner and cake auction tomorrow, as a fundraiser for the young men and young women to go to camp this summer. I heard that last year, some of the cakes went for over $100! I can't really shell out that kind of dough, but I can donate some batter... I decided to make a cake to auction off. It's going to be a Candyland cake, patterned after the board game. I'll post a picture of it. I went to the bakery to see if I could buy a plain cake to decorate myself, wanting to save a little time baking, and they charge the same price for a plain one as they do for a decorated one! How ridiculous! So I'll just make my own. I did have to buy a pan, 'cause I didn't have one big enough, but even with that investment I'm saving money. And the pan will come in handy for birthday parties and future events. This is how I'm justifying the purchase. It's for the children! ;)

It's a Girl!

...according to this website. I just entered my birthdate and some other, uh, personal information, and it predicted a girl! As did my ultrasounds (which are probably more reliable)! To fill some people in: I'm 17 weeks pregnant with child number three, which sounds like and excessive number of kids when I think about it, but it's only my second pregnancy. The first thing I had the radiologist check was the number of babies; there's only one. So if anyone says, "Maybe you'll have twins again!" I can tell them I'm certain I won't. Everything looked good on the ultrasound, except the doc saw some cyst-something-or-others on the brain. He said they're fairly common and don't cause any cognitive problems, and usually go away. So I guess I'm not going to get too worried, but it seems kind of weird to me.

So now David and I have to agree on a name. That's probably going to be tricky. We don't have ESPN Sports Center like we did with the boys. There aren't a lot of girls featured on ESPN. I do like the name Torah, after the 2006 Burton U.S. Open of Snowboarding champion (and I think Torah is an awesome girl), but David always cringes when I mention that name. The only name we sort of agree on so far is Mikelle, but I'm not crazy about it yet. So we'll keep thinking. We've got 'til September 24.

Here's a picture of my baby, 'cause I know everyone loves to see other peoples' ultrasounds:

I Stink.

...Or so I've been told. I was sitting in nursery yesterday, pouring water for the little ones at snack time, when this little girl named Emma starts yelling, "It stinks in here!" She comes over to me, sniffs my backside and says, "Ohhh, you're poopy!" I was slightly taken aback, but managed to pull myself together enough to say, "No, it can't be me. I've been potty trained." So Emma moved on to sniffing everyone else. Aren't kids cute...

I wish I had something else to write about today. Well, I do, but I'll save it for later. Right now, I'm going to get a snack: Easter candy and sushi (no raw fish for me, just the rice and seaweed rolls with fake crab and real cucumbers. Yum).

Adventures in Grocery Shopping

It's always been somewhat of a challenge to go grocery shopping with Drew and Owen in tow. When they were just babies, I had to put their car seats in the grocery cart, living little to no room for groceries. Now that they can sit up on their own, I put one kid in the seat of the cart and the other kid in the basket part with the groceries. I know this is dangerous, but there aren't really any other practical options. So I just try to watch them like a hawk so they don't fall.

I feel, however, that I am not watching them as closely as I should. This oversight was brought to my attention last week when I found a bottle of septic system cleaner in my cart. I sure didn't put it there. And when I went back to the cleaners aisle to put it back, there on the shelf from whence it came was my new tropical scent deodorant that I had picked up on a different aisle, twenty minutes earlier. Somebody apparently thought that tropical scent wouldn't cut it, and I needed something stronger.

During this week's shopping trip, Owen was sitting in the basket part of the cart, and for every two or three items I put in the cart, he apathetically threw one or two out of the cart. When we got to the check stand, the cashier asked if I would like a box of cream cheese that wasn't all smashed up. Well, I would have, but since my kid was the one who did the smashing, I figured we'd have to keep it, so I had to tell her no.

Oh, and it's not just Drew and Owen that make shopping "fun." We went for our annual Easter Candy Round Up on Monday. The candy is all half price the day after Easter, and it has long been David's tradition to stock up on things like Cadbury Eggs and other seasonal favorites. So there we are in the store and David finds a box of Reese's Peanut Butter Cup Eggs. This box is probably about 11 x 17 inches, and about 2 inches deep. Practically over-flowing with candy eggs. He casually puts it in the cart. I less-than-casually ask him, "You're not buying that whole box, are you?" To which he sheepishly replies, "No..." and puts the box back on the shelf, resigning himself to just a few handfuls of eggs. I later overheard him telling one of his buddies about the shopping trip, saying, "I actually was planning on buying that whole box." Whew. Good thing I stopped him. I don't need all that temptation in the house.

Here are some pictures of the boys, with their half-pounder chocolate bunnies David got them (they haven't actually eaten more than a couple nibbles, and I'm sure David and I will end up eating the vast majority of those rabbits, but the pictures are fun anyway).

Left: Drew; Right: Owen

Happy Easter!

I saw a link on msn.com about how the Bible and the Atonement of Christ became connected with bunnies and eggs. Go look at it... Santa Clause at Christmas I can understand because of the kindness and the giving and things, but I never quite made the connection between Jesus and a rabbit who brings candy. The video shed some light on it.
The Easter Bunny didn't bring us any candy today. I think he decided that since Drew and Owen are too young to know any better, he'll just wait until the candy is 50% off and bring some on Monday. Smart Bunny! He knows that the parents are going to eat most of it anyway, and this way they can have twice as much!
On a more Easter-y note, church was really good today. It usually is, but I especially like the holidays where we get to sing the hymns that specifically focus on Jesus and on His life and His sacrifice and His resurrection. I have a lot of favorite hymns, but there is one line that is my absolute favorite out of all the lines of all the hymns: "Thou Son of God who lived for us, Then died on Calvary."* I like it because it reminds me that Jesus lived a perfect life so He could qualify to be our Savior. It had to be a perfect atonement and it was.
Nursery was really good, too. The gal that works in there with me is so great. She prepared an Easter lesson that was so good. It's so hard to get the kids to sit still; they're only two-years-old, on average... But I think they still get something out of the lessons and every so often one of the kids will surprise us with an answer to a question, and they all recognize Jesus when they see a picture of Him. So it's not all for naught.
I hope everyone had a good Easter. It only comes once a year, but like with Christmas, the true meaning should be in our hearts always.

*The hymn is called "As Now We Take the Sacrament." Words by Lee Tom Perry, Music by Daniel Lyman Carter.

Spring Cleaning

I did a bunch of cleaning last night; and by cleaning, I don't mean tidying up--my house was way beyond that... I threw a bunch of junk out and wiped off some shelves with some pretty thick dust on them--the house got a major overhaul. (And right now, my dad is outside fixing my deck! Hooray for handy dads! When he's done, we get to go color shopping and paint it!) As I was organizing and junking things, I discovered a little paper with some story ideas for a college assignment (just a note: it's been 2 years since I took this class and this little paper somehow made it through moving three times and a few other spring cleaning sessions). The class was a mythology class, and the assignment was to write a modern myth or legend. We could use something from our life or we could adapt an old myth and make it fit the times. So on my paper I had some ideas of legends and things from my life that I might adapt. Among them was the following true story:

I grew up with four brothers and one sister. There were a lot of crazy times, a lot of fights, but also a lot of good times and a lot of love. One day, when I was about eight years old, I was feeling particularly love-y and told my sister: "Roz, you're my favorite sister." The sassy six-year-old that she was just snickered and said, "Of course. I'm your only sister."

Well, I felt silly, so I started talking, spinning a tall tale: "No, you're not. We have an older sister who's older than Jeremy [the eldest child]. Her name is Jennifer."

Cleverly, Roz asked, "Why haven't I ever heard about her?"

"Mom doesn't like to talk about it," I replied. "Jennifer got pregnant so mom and dad kicked her out of the house, and she went and lives with her boyfriend, and she's just trouble."

I don't know where I came up with this story. I think I watched too many soap operas with my grandma. My mom would never kick any of her kids out of the house. I vaguely remember telling Roz at a later date or perhaps even that same day that there was no older sister named Jennifer--no older sister at all, in fact. I guess Roz never remembered me telling her, because about eight years later, I was chatting with Jeremy, telling him the little story I'd made up, and saying, "Wasn't that funny when I told Roz we had an older sister?" At this point Roz came into the room totally shocked: "You mean that wasn't true?!"

On the one hand, it was hilarious, but on the other hand, I wonder how much additional* childhood trauma I had caused my poor little favorite sister.

*As in, in addition to the usual sisterly amount.