Buck Up! (or) Look Honey, I Did Something!

Miss Hannigan is feeling better today. (See previous post.) I'm trying to suck it up a little, and I thought it would help to mention some happy things.

Happy thing #1:

Today is laundry day, and by some miracle, this blue bucket is still sitting, empty, on top of the dryer. I'll explain. The blue bucket has been dubbed "The Oxi Clean Bucket." (You may notice the huge tote of oxi clean sitting right next to it.) The fact that I have not yet this week filled that bucket with nice warm water, a generous scoop of oxi clean, and some disgusting article of clothing that is nigh-uncleanable is a total miracle. Just think! Bitty didn't poo in her undies even once this week! (Of course, she hasn't pooed much at all, but that is depressing to think about and I'm trying to be positive here.) Also, I have not ruined any shirts of mine by splashing, spilling or drizzling something greasy on them. I'm a rather drippy eater by nature (Troy calls this quality 'endearing,' but I think he's just being nice) and now that I have a huge shelf jutting out from my midsection there's no way for any errant grease to escape landing on me. And look! No shirts in the bucket! Yay!

Happy Thing #2

I actually accomplished something! I have really wanted to get my emergency preparedness supplies going before our babe gets here. It's so overwhelming to think about not only a 72 hour kit but getting a 3 month supply of rotate-able items. I'm not ready to think about the year's supply yet. Anyway, I finally got the bare minimum of a 72 hour kit put together. And then I thought about how I could make a three month supply of food work for us. I decided to make a list of foods that we use regularly. It's not a list of absolutely everything we would use in three months, just a list of things that we always do use and that, if worse came to worse, we could survive on for a few months. I then went and bought a whole bunch of those things. The plan now is that I keep that list on the fridge, and every time I use something from the supply, I mark it off so the next time I go shopping I can replace the item in storage. It's actually working really well, and I'm super satisfied that I actually accomplished something. Most days lately I just look at my to-do list and decide I'd rather go sit down instead.



Happy Thing #3

Stomper had a couple of play dates last week - during our freezing cold, wet and rainy spring break. (It's going to be 80 today...) One day he and his buddy went in the back yard armed with nothing more than a roll of masking tape. Their goal was to make a fort. I think they did a pretty good job. I am just filled with warm happiness when I see my kids inventing things in the back yard, despite the often increased requirement for the use of the oxi clean bucket.


Happy Thing #4

Bitty's love of bike-riding has resurfaced after the long cold winter. Every day she straps on her helmet with only minor assistance and heads out to the back porch for a spin on her little bike. She prefers you to be out there with her, being her spectator. This duty is comprised mainly of applauding for her and shouting, "hooray!" every time she passes you. It does get a little tedious, but her super happy grin is worth it.

Okay! See? I'm not totally bitter about everything! This is good! (Of course, it isn't even noon yet, but let's show a little optimism, shall we?)

My Inner Miss Hannigan

I didn't actually know that I had one inside me. But I do. Miss Hannigan (of Annie fame - come on, you remember her!) is alive and well and living deep in the most bitter corner of my soul, and boy did she rear her mussy little head today. I don't think I'd better give you all the gory details. I'll just say this. How is it possible that the more pregnant I get and the worse I feel, the more my kids need me and are less and less able to help or entertain themselves at all? Can they not find one tiny bit of compassion, empathy or understanding inside themselves? I know, I know. Of course not. Nor should I really expect them to. (Hey there, 3-year-old daughter, let's close our eyes a do a little maternity visualization so you can feel my pain!) It would be nice, though, wouldn't it? I'm sure that they can feel what's coming and have already begun the rat race for mom's attention. Elbows are flying. I guess my question is, with how grouchy I was today, why on earth do they still want my company at all? (Oh. One other question. WHY do my kids like to join me in the bathroom? Can anyone explain this phenomenon? You'd think that's the last place they'd want to be with the things that go on in there, but no, they're pounding down the door. I guess it has something to do with getting their grips on the last shred of dignity I'm still clinging to.)

Well, I should shut up now. Do a little blessing counting. Like the fact that no one got out of bed tonight once they were tucked in. Like that fact that no one actually called me 'mean mommy,' or said, 'you're just like Cruella DeVil' or any of the other things that were running through my head. Or the fact that I probably won't hear the dreaded, "Mommmm-eeeeeee!!!!????!!!!" until tomorrow. Okay, let's face it, there's a good chance I'll still hear that tonight, but maybe it will be from only one of them at a time instead of that trick they have where one of them says it, then starts telling me what they need me to do, and in the middle of the sentence, the other one starts off, like they're singing a round of Row Row Your Boat or something. I think they practice that technique while I'm not around.

Okay. Deep breaths. I feel better. Well, better minus the perma-contraction I've had all day today. Time for a drink of water and a little shut eye.

'Night!

A Tribute to my Father -or- Happy Easter

This is perhaps a little mean. My father is currently living in Belgium and I just can't help but make him twitch a bit, all the way from Salt Lake City. And to make him twitch all I need to do is give him a peek at his worst enemy: Easter grass. He hates the stuff. It is not allowed in his house. It's kind of funny. But dad, guess what. I can feel your pain. This year I was pretty surprised at how easily the stuff spread itself around the house and managed to avoid my vacuuming attempts. It took many days to make our house completely grass free. It just keeps coming back!


We had a nice Easter. I was able to hold off the kids on the egg-dying all the way until the Thursday before Easter. I was then faced with the annual dilemma of determining how many eggs are enough for the kids to make without me having an entire fridge full of hard boiled eggs. It's a hard number to reach. I don't think the kids would ever get enough of coloring eggs. As it was they each got a dozen (I know, I'm kind of crazy) and they had so much fun dying them the first time around that they pretty much re-dyed all of them. Thus most of our Easter eggs ended up being an odd spotty greyish color, but that's okay. They had a great time.


Troy also took both kids to his boss's annual neighborhood egg and candy hunt. Seriously, I don't think the kids got this much candy at Halloween. I couldn't believe the caches they came home with. Fine with me - I got my bribery bowl restocked! (I've been doing a little nibbling myself...)

The big day itself was pretty mellow. Troy has church meetings early Sunday mornings, and we didn't want him to miss seeing the kids find their baskets. We devised a clever plan wherein the Easter Bunny leaves a note for the kids telling them to hurry and get ready for church and when Daddy got home (he planned to sneak away for a few minutes) he'd have a clue for them as to where to find the baskets. The plan would have worked great except that Stomper woke up at about 5:50 and wasn't to be dissuaded from getting his basket then and there. It made me fear this Christmas a little bit. So, fine, Troy helped him find his basket and all of my efforts in doing the notes was wasted. Oh well. Luckily Bitty woke up about 2 minutes before Troy came back and he helped her find her basket too. In the afternoon we enjoyed dinner with Troy's parents and playing with the kids. Nice day.

I have to say that I think it's kind of funny how into dinosaurs Troy and I have gotten. There's this one brand (Papo) that makes really cool dinosaurs. And when we found out that they had come out with a new one (the Allosaurus) of course that is what Stomper found in his basket. He's clearly shown a preferance for toys more squishy in nature, but we couldn't resist. And luckily Stomper's dinosaur passion has reignited and at least for today he's willing to lower his standards and play with a "non-squishy." Phew. (Allosaurus pictured at bottom of picture below...)

Axel Lives On

It turns out that Stomper has a passion for music. He's been begging me to purchase from itunes the theme from Jurassic Park. Trust me when I tell you that I should have bought that before, or perhaps instead of, my most recent purchase. It came about when Troy took Stomper to go see Monsters vs. Aliens. I guess there's a funny little part where the president of the U.S. is trying to communicate with aliens and plays for them "Axel F," the theme from Beverly Hills Cop. Stomper went nuts. He couldn't get enough of it. We tried having him listen to just clips of it from the itunes store. 30 seconds just wasn't quite enough for him. And then, oh then. I thought to myself, "I love to make my kids happy! I know that spending a measly little 99 cents on one song would thrill my child, so why not?" Why not? I will tell you why not. I think that on that day we listened to Axel F for approximately two hours straight. You have to admit that it's a catchy tune, but after two hours it gets a little tedious. Okay, Stomper couldn't have been any cuter. He just sat there, on top of the garbage can, with Troy's makita stereo on the counter next to him. He sat there and bobbed up and down in time (sort of) to the music, humming (sort of) along with the tune.


After two or three days of watching him bop around the house in a rather twitchy epileptic way with Axel F blaring throughout the house, we finally dug out the headphones and plugged them into the ipod and set it for repeat. I confess, it is much cuter to watch Stomper's little dance and listen to him hum along minus the blasting tunes. I really thought he'd be over it by now, but he's still asking to listen to it all night long. Like sleep with earphones in and the music going. I think it's time for me to buy the Jurassic Park soundtrack, don't you think?

Return of the Radish Legs

When I was on my mission in Korea, I had this wonderful companion named (forgive the strange spelling…) Eee Young Mi. We were in the same apartment for a couple of months before we actually became companions. She was a terrible tease and also a hard worker. Well, Sister Eee thought I was downright chubby. (Think of what she'd say now….) And actually she was a little jealous of my chub. She was a total stick. She used to call me Sister Potato, because that's how I was shaped. (In her eyes only, I'm sure.) So in return I called her Sister Snake, which actually kind of ticked her off because she hated being so skinny. (Awww, don'cha feel bad for her?) Anyway, we loved each other and only served together for a very short time. I think maybe it was just one month. One day we were walking around together in the outdoor market. We passed a lady selling big plastic bins of radishes. Not the cute little radishes we have here in America. These things are HUGE. Big fat long white things. I think here they're called daikon radishes. In Korean they're called "moo." As she glanced at them she paused. Then her eyes absolutely lit up with delight and she turned to look at me. "I know what you are! You're a 'moo-dadi!'" (When you say 'dadi,' it's kind of like saying 'darri' but you're flipping your r's, k?) That word, dadi, means legs. Yes, I have radish legs. Big white lumpy things. Isn't that nice?

The reason I'm thinking of this memory is because I looked down at my legs today and this story jumped instantly to my mind. I had to start laughing. I am certain that my moo-dadi legs of today absolutely shame my moo-dadi legs of the past. Pregnancy has settled into my ankles. Not a pretty picture, I know, but I'm hopeful it's only going to last a couple more months. I had an ultrasound yesterday. I'm 32 weeks along (only 2 weeks away from where I was when Stomper showed up!) and I think my midwife just wants to help me feel secure and at peace. I've never had a late term ultrasound before. It's kind of crazy – you can only see one little part of the baby at a time and it's a little harder to tell what you're looking at. I thought it would be easier. Big long feet, all the right parts and pieces, and we could even see some fuzzy hair on the back of her head. And oh yes, it's no longer a question if she was hiding any boy parts in her last ultrasound. She wasn't. I'm actually getting pretty excited for this little gal to show up! It makes bearing the radish legs a little easier.

This is a page scanned from my mission album. Sister Eee is the gal in the blue jumper next to me in front of the fire trucks. (That was an interesting morning...)