What do you recommend?

Nate is 8. As the oldest, he feels so big and responsible and usually is. We try to give him opportunities to "flex his big kid muscles" when we can and he loves it. One of his little man skills is returning Redbox DVDs. In case you're not familiar with Redbox, its a DVD rental vending machine in the entry of grocery stores. Returning a DVD consists of pressing the gigantic "Return a movie" (er sumthin') button on the screen and placing the DVD in the slot the correct way. It takes less than 15 seconds. I think it's a pretty good independent activity for the little man since I can see him the whole time and if I had to go beat off and pepper spray someone, I could. I've also given him instructions many times that if he needs me he should scream as loud as possible and I will rescue him. So far, no pepper spray, no screaming.

A while ago I sent Nate in to Wegmans (best grocer ever, ever, EVER, but I'll post on that another time) to return a DVD. I could see a some people congregated around the Redbox so I knew he might have to wait for a few people ahead of him. Every 30 seconds he would give me some kind of enthusiastic and original hand signal to indicate that he was fine. He finally made his way to the front of the line, completed his task and bounded back to the car. When he got in this was our conversation (pretty much):

Nate: Sorry it took so long, Mom. But I was just fine. There were just a lot of people in front of me but I didn't want you to be worried. The lady in front of me took a really long time because she wanted to get two or three movies but she didn't know what to get. I told her that I recommended Space Chimps because it's really good.

Me (chuckling): Oh really, Space Chimps huh?

Nate: Yeah.

Me: So what did she decide on?

Nate: She got Space Chimps.

Me (trying to be nonchalant): Really? You recommended Space Chimps and she got it?

Nate (satisfied with self and life in general): Yeah, I think she'll like it.

Me (inwardly sarcastic, outwardly sincere): Good. I hope she really enjoys that.

At this point I'm seriously trying not to laugh because he seems like he's feeling pretty great about the big favor he just did for this lady.

We got home and I just kept laughing to myself, which is never as much fun as laughing with someone else, so I called Adam and told him the story. As I was talking to him I kept wondering when Nate had ever seen Space Chimps so I asked Adam if he had seen it with him at some point, but he hadn't. So I yelled to Nate and asked him when he saw the movie and he responded "I've never seen it, I just wanted the lady to get a movie so I could return mine and you wouldn't worry." I could hold it in no longer. I burst out laughing!

So if you are at Redbox and you see this boy:

Even if he seems like the sweetest boy ever (and he is), like this:

But especially if he's dressed in sheep's clothing with one ear sticking up like this:

Don't ask for advice, directions or recommendations or you too might end up with this:

And you'll probably regret it, unless you're the kind of person who has great faith in the unjustified opinions of cute little, random 8 year old boys.

Where did my baby go?

With a few words in her vocabulary, Cecily has taken a few steps out of her "I'm shy and cute" comfort zone. Suddenly she's become more of a "I'm kinda shy and very cute but I'll tell you "nooo" even if I feel like saying "yes" and if I want to do something, don't try to stop me but if you do try I'll throw a fit and then probably attempt shmoozing my way out of your punitive measures (time out)." I've been able to capture a bit of this lately, since I have a functioning camera.

Yesterday we were playing outside, since it was above freezing. When we play outside, Nate grabs his scooter, Eli grabs his bike...and I chase after him with one of the many helmets, and Cecily gets out all of the other helmets (and tries them on one by one), the old big wheel, her new big wheel, every ball we own, the lacrosse sticks (I swear we have 47), the play lawn mower, the tonka truck, the single stroller, the double stroller, golf clubs and whatever else she can find. She's so quiet while she does it that I don't even realize that she's creating a garage sale on my driveway until it's all out. I know, I know, get with it mom! We're always scrambling 2 minutes before Adam gets home to get everything off of the drive so that he won't run over it all.

Like most girls, Cecily is obsessed with clothing and accessories. While we were outside she silently went in and out of the front door grabbing different boots and shoes to bring out and try on. Then she went on to the helmets. Her hair is in cornrows right now and they all come to a bun thingy on top of her head. So she was trying to buckle up the helmets herself and they weren't fitting like they usually do but she was determined. I tried to help and got the "noooooo" so I went and got the camera instead. I missed the buckling part which was funny because she was cross-eyed, but this came next...

Pride

DismayWhat the crap do I do now?

And here is this mornings scene:

I see her, but she only has eyes for the peanut butter. Oblivious to the Mama.

Caught!

Hurry and shove the last bite in before she gets to you!

What do I do?!? SCHMOOZE! Throw on that funny face and schmooze like you've never schmoozed before!

Are you sirius?

I have never been one of those people who was cutting edge with the latest piece of technology at my fingertips the minute it hit the market...or the decade, for that matter. I don't, and have never, had a cell phone. I know, insane right? I'm not against them. My husband has one and has had one since we got married nearly 10 years ago. It's always made sense for us to have one, but not two, in my mind. It's a good thing I didn't get one all those years ago because I would never have seen the need to upgrade and this would be me:

...except that I'm not a black man. But we all know that I have an affinity for rubber bands.

My husband has encouraged me to get one (cell phone, not a rubber band), and even admitted that he was just going to go get one for me without asking and I have always said that I'm glad he didn't because it would have been a want, not a need.

I opted for a traditional camera over a digital one many years ago when there was no question that digital wasn't going anywhere. Since then we have acquired 2 digital cameras but they were both free and as you might assume (and you'd be right) they were pieces of crap. Just in the last month, we actually purchased a digital camera. Nothing spesh, but it does take more than seven not-too-crappy pictures without having to change the batteries! Sadly, this is an improvement over the last and I am glad to have it as an improvement in my lowish tech world.

Recently with the addition of the new van came an unexpected perk. Apparently the people who owned the van before us had satellite radio (sirius). WHO NEEDS SATELLITE RADIO? Radio is something that you get for free (other than NPR, which I think everyone should contribute to so I can keep enjoying it :) ). I am ashamed to say that it took me about 3 minutes of enjoying satellite radio to feel that once the person who must still be paying for my radio finally realizes it and cancels it, I will feel lost and alone and angry at every advertisement I have to listen to! Better to have listened and lost than never to have listened at all? I don't know. I just never imagined that I would love it this much. I was a satisfied listener before. I bet the people who went from having 2 television stations to a mind blowing 13 felt the same way.

I love the kids station. The songs are fun but I wish I could adequately describe the comedy that goes on between songs. It's comedic genius! Seriously funny...or should I say Siriusly funny? NO, I should not. Sorry about that.

There is one last reason that the people who are currently paying for our radio should not stop (since I'll never pay for it). This year my fine sister-in-law had a competition on her blog. The title of her posts were lines from broadway songs. Points went to those who's comments included the title, musical, character or any other info from the play. I came in a shameful 7th place. Just imagine the damage I could do next year if I had the broadway station playing everyday. All I know is that there is a certain Melissa Corry (this year's winner) who is shaking in her boots...as long as our van's last owner never checks their credit card bill.

Why didn't I just break a mirror and call it good?

I was reminded this week that I've been cursed. 22 years ago at the tender, STU-PID age of 12 I made a decision that may have followed me until this very week. You may not have been an idiot when you were twelve, but I was. If there was one thing that I was sure of at that age, it was that I was cool. Very cool. And just like a prideful Nephite, I've been given ample opportunity since then to realize the folly of my narcissistic opinion of myself back in '87...'88 and maybe a touch in '89.

I called my mom this week to tell her that we finally bought a minivan. She, along with everyone else that heard this news was SO excited for us. You may wonder why someone would be thrilled about a minivan? Isn't this the car that everyone dreads? I mean, minivans aren't that cool, right? That may be true when you go from driving this:

To driving this:

But when your fine luxury transportation device looks like this:

then that minivan feels like upward mobility for sure. It's actually been a good car. And while innocent by standers can hear the car coming WELL before they see it, and AFTER they see it they feel like they've been insulted in some way, it's done it's job and we are very grateful it stuck it out. Actually, those who have besmirched the car should see what it would look like if I hadn't been spray painting portions of it over the years. An activity that would have positively mortified me in middle school when not only would I not go into the D.I. (thrift store, for those of you who might feel out of the loop), but I laid on the floor of the car so that if any of my friends would happen to drive by they wouldn't know I was there. What a FREAK!

So this week, my mom joked that I may finally have lived my pride of past years down. Whew!

BUT my uncoolness doesn't end there! Nay, my well of dorkiness is deep. I've needed new glasses for years now but I was in denial/stingy so I dealt with cheapy reading glasses instead. But cheap reading glasses weren't even cheap enough for me, so I bought the cheapest and probably the ugliest reading glasses out there. But at $7.84 for THREE pair, who could say "no?" NOT ME! One by one my reading glasses broke. Can you believe it?! Shoddy workmanship.

I finally gave in and got the real deal. And wouldn't you know that they came in the same day that we got the van? So here are my before and after shots taken with the help of my kids. While the rubber band earpieces may not have been original to the glasses, they did their job after the first ones broke off.

So perhaps now the curse is lifted and I no longer have to hang my head in embarrassment when I pull up to the NICEST thrift store in town.

When good haircuts go bad!

Me again. Boy am I back on the bandwagon! I'm sure it will die down soon.

We all know I'm extremely frugal, right? So what kind of cheapskate would I be if I didn't cut my kids hair myself? I couldn't even show my face at the thrift store if I actually PAID someone to cut my kids hair. And if I couldn't go to the thrift store my whole family would be naked which in some circles is considered bad. SO, I cut my kids hair.

Eli loves it and wants another one immediately after I finish. :) Same thing with getting his nails cut, ears cleaned, etc. Funny kid. Nate HATES it. Hates, hates, HATES IT! At the mature age of 8, he has quit throwing tantrums about it. But just barely.

We have been long past due for haircuts around here. I always know it's time because Eli goes from looking like Tiger Woods to Cosmo Kramer. So we got down to business, got out the clippers and Eli went first as usual. All was going very well until the end when I went to shave his neck. Apparently the clippers need some adjustment because they nicked Eli's neck. In reaction, his head whipped around and then this happened.

You're probably thinking that the bloody nose was the result. You're wrong. The nose happened earlier in the day in the house center at preschool. Don't you just hate domestic violence??? Kidding. His teacher emphasized the fact that it was not a result of a physical incident. I think that there may have been a physical incident with his finger and his nose. When I said something to that effect to his teacher she looked at me with complete confusion. Come ON?! Are you telling me that a preschool teacher is oblivious to the rampant nose picking that goes on in that room? BACK to the real issue. Notice, if you will, the missing eyelashes in the middle of the eyelid? Yep, I did that. I assured him that they would grow back, so he wanted me to take a picture RIGHT away because "they might grow back before Dad got home and he wouldn't be able to see what happened." AND he wanted Dad to see the cool hair on his chin ("just like Dad's hairy chin"). Doesn't he look so ruggedly satisfied with himself? He is. And me? I'm freaking out that I came within a quarter inch of his eye! BLAAAAA!

We are now at least daily checking to see if they have grown back yet. They haven't.

I'm Published!!!

Oh yeah! You read that right. I can now say that I am published...kinda. But even if it's "kinda", an inappropriate amount of pride is welling up inside me. Especially since it took almost no effort and I had completely forgotten about it until I was alerted by email (which I almost deleted because I didn't even recognize the authors name.)

I'm sure you're dying to know which incredible work of mine is being published. My recipe. I know, you're disappointed now. Good thing I'M still impressed with myself. :)

I got an email months ago from a friend informing me that a woman was compiling a World Wide Ward Cookbook that was to be published by Deseret Book. She was requesting recipes that had some kind of family tradition/story attached to them. Well, everyone has one of those so I didn't really think that I would be chosen but it was about time that I got the recipe on paper anyway (it's just been in my head until now.) So I submitted it, and probably got some kind of acceptance notification after that but I delete everything I don't recognize and this was not even on my radar after the day I submitted it.

Are you just licking you lips to know what scrumptious recipe I submitted? Sadly, I can't properly tell you. I can say it poorly in Mandarin Chinese but I definitely can't type it. I think I titled the recipe "Chinese Dumplings" in an attempt not to slaughter the language.

The story behind it is that my Dad served his mission in Taiwan ooooh sooooo long ago. At that time missionaries in Taiwan had "house boys" that did the cooking, cleaning, etc. My dad quickly learned that having them make american food could be detrimental to his health since they didn't now the first thing about american food and the local food was fantastic. He loved the dumplings particulary and learned how to make them.

My family made these every General Conference weekend. Together we would fold them and we all (well, almost all, Eric thought they felt like jellyfish and they were not his favorite) LOVED to eat them! They are still my favorite food and they are my kids favorite food too!

And THAT is the whole story. My "major award" for being chosen is that I get a free copy of the cookbook! I'll take that over a leg-shaped lamp with a swanky shade. Then again, after looking at my choices side by side...I may have spoken too soon.