If I Could Have Three (non-materialistic) Wishes Right Now...

Well maybe more than three.

Some time ago, my friend Angie said something about how we should live next to each other.  I've thought about this a lot and I really like the idea.  I would love to live in a cul-de-sac with Angie, emily, Rach, and anyone else who wants to come join us. It'd be like this little enclave of super cool girls (kind of like the mythical enclave of midgets in Salt Lake, but ours would be real and only half-full of midgets).

Why? Well, think about it. We would have built in babysitters. I could still work (remember, this is pseudo-reality so of course wherever we live will need a part-time statistician) but I could drop off my kids with one of the other ladies.  And on their work days, well, come on over Isaac (and all the rest)!

We could share meal planning.  Emily and I enjoy very similar foods.  Instead of making one batch of, say, enchiladas, I'd make four and deliver the other three to my lovely neighbors.  We'd pass each other on the sidewalk as we're delivering our yummy dishes.  I'd only have to cook every four days!

We all have different talents and differently-talented husbands.  Between the eight of us, I don't think there's anything we couldn't do.  Once a month we could pick a different home improvement project at one person's house and we could all work on that.  It'd kind of be like being Amish, but with electricity and less-modest (but not too less!) clothes.

Besides, these girls are just fun.  We could have scrapbooking nights (but we'd banish Rach because she's just be too overwhelmed with scrap-glee).  We could sew together.  We could run together.  We could just hang out at the park together.  We could give each other breaks when we need them.

The best part about it is that we'd all be involved in each others' lives...in a good way.  All of the other kids would know me and wouldn't scream if left alone with me, and Rhett would know and love all of them.  I'd be in family pictures with them, sharing special events with them, watching them all grow up.  Sniff.  Tear.

I'm finding out that it's not necessarily being a mom that's been hard for me.  It's being a lonely mom.  I don't mind sitting and watching Rhett play with the same dumb toy for the 50th time when I'm sitting and watching this with someone else.

I know this set-up sounds a bit creepy, but I don't care.  It sounds lovely.  At least to me.  I haven't talked to the others about it.  But if they don't want to, does anyone want to come live with me in such a utopia?

(Ooooh, emily I just realized that you'd be the only one with a last name not starting with an "H."  Maybe you can't come live with us...)

If I Could Have Three (very materialistic) Wishes Right Now...

I wish

1.  To have enough money to afford to buy everything on this site.  I mean it: everything.

2.  To have a body on which these outfits would look great.

3.  To have a lifestyle that matches these clothes.  I'd look pretty silly wearing a swimsuit coverup while walking in downtown DC.

Seeking Advice for the Habitat

Chuck and I are having our cabinets refaced soon.  (Hey, someone has to stimulate the economy.)  We'd like to paint the walls to contrast with the new white cabinets and have picked out a yellow.  We like the yellow in this room (Bicycle Yellow), but I'm concerned that it might be too much.

I like the color but think maybe we should go a shade lighter, like Pale Daffodil. What do you think?

And as a follow-up to Gretchen's comment, there are not that many big walls. The biggest is approximately 10 feet by 3 feet. Everything else is areas between cabinets and small spaces.

Another Hard Decision

Since moving to our new house and returning to work, I get to travel on the longest escalator in the western hemisphere four times a week (twice down, twice up).  I take great pride in the fact that only twice have I not walked up the moving staircase at the end of my work day.   The first time I stood (instead of trekking the approximate 100 steps) was the second day back to work after Rhett's birth.  I was exhausted: mentally, physically, and emotionally.  The second time I was sick.

But now I'm plagued by the following dilemma.  The station has three escalators. When one breaks down, it is either taken completely out of commission and no one can use it at all, or it's simply turned off so people can continue to walk on it. For the past couple of what-has-seemed-like eons, one escalator has been completely unusable, the second has been stopped, and the third been running upwards. This was fine because I could walk down the second, and trek up the third. But this morning the second escalator was made unusable (unusable!). This means that the third is now stopped. Just so it's clear: my trek up 100 moving stairs is increased to nearly 170 steps.

Let's be honest.  I'm in fairly good shape.  I run regularly and eat, uh, food.  But when I get to the top of my 100-step climb, I'm tired.  My breathing is quickened and I'm ready to be done.   What's this proud girl to do?  Do I attempt the 170 stairs or fight the entire rush-hour train to use the (only) elevator?  Please hurry: I have only 7.5 hours until I make this decision.

Ding! Ding! Ding!

And the correct answer is awarded to...Gretchen!  She could see the row of books on a shelf.  (Can you see it now?)  And yes, this will become our new library tote.  Much better than carrying a baby in one arm and seven little board books in the other.  Try opening a car door with that load!

Made for Saturday: What Am I?

After a recent trip I decided I needed to make me a bag.  Obviously it's a bag, but what is the design I have pieced on it? (Before you guess, no, it's not a histogram.  Try again.)  No fair looking at comments first; try and guess. Honestly, I love this bag so much that I don't care if anyone else can figure it out. And Emily, no fair commenting.

Another All-New Friendly Friend Question

Because I have nothing else to blog about, I'll talk about me.  (Seriously though, it's the truth.  Nothing is going on.  Church has calmed down.  We're not doing any renovations on the house--well, until Monday.  We're not taking any trips.  And no holidays since Easter.  No celebrity sitings like Rachael.  I haven't even been sewing.  Nothing.)

So here goes.  Question: If I could live anywhere in the United States (assuming I had enough money to do so), where would it be?  (Cue Jeopardy music...)

Answer: Southern California. A few years ago, Chuck and I were fortunate to be able to use a condo near Santa Barbara that my aunt and uncle own. Not only is where they're located gorgeous, but everywhere we went was gorgeous too. It remains one of the happiest-trip memories that we have (second only to Puerto Rico).

In my year tenure as a mother, I've come to realize that my sphere of life is quite small.  Places I visit on a regular basis include the grocery store, the library, church, and the park.  I'm pretty sure they have those things in SoCal.  Check.

But if I had my preference, I'd be outside all year long.  Sure, I can go outside here in January.  But when it's 20 degrees with 80% humidity, it's just not fun.  Okay, then, why would I not go back to Utah where winters are actually enjoyable?  Because with kids, winters are hard.  I don't like being cooped in my house.  I can barely afford to ski, let alone pay for my kids to ski.  I like the idea of having year-round sports for my kids.  I like to not wear jackets!

While this move wouldn't cause result in next-door neighborhood with family (except for my very cool aunt and uncle), my parents and sister would be reachable by car.  It would be a short (well, relatively so) trip to meet my parents in St. George and my sister is just up the road in Colorado. And seeing as though none of Chuck's siblings live anywhere close to each other, it doesn't matter where we go.

Also, SoCal has mountains; sure they might not be as grand as those in Utah or Colorado, but they're there.  And when is the next time I am going to be able to take a four-day backpacking trip anyway?  Let's be honest: I think the most I can hope for over the next 15 or so years is a three-mile hike on one day.  SoCal can give that to me.

Why not, say, Florida then?  One word: humidity.  It's my enemy.  It's the one thing I can say that I loathe. SoCal has only a vague idea of what that word means.

Besides, it just smells good there.

P.S. Check out my fun (and now famous) dad here. He is the un-mentioned man in green on the right. Way to go Dad!

Will It Ever End?

Soon after Chuck and I got married, we wondered at what point in our marriage we'd stop holding hands everywhere we went. As we didn't see many long-time-married couples doing this, we figured the hand holding would likely cease at some point. And it did. (Although I can't tell you at what point.)

Now I'm dealing with another experience that I wonder will also see its demise: overwhelming, heart-filling, tear-enducing love for my son. Every night as Chuck and I are going to bed, Chuck goes into Rhett's room for one last goodnight look. I don't do it very often because I just can't handle the emotion. When I see the little man in his crib sleeping, I am brought to tears (every time) with the love that I have for this baby. And it's not just at night. Even as I write this, I'm close to crying. I'm just amazed that this little person I've only known for one year can do this to me. We can be playing in the playroom and I'll start thinking about it and...tears. Talking to Chuck about the funny things he did that day and...tears.  Laughing at the huge snot bubble created by a sneeze that stunned him to stillness and...tears.

But at some point this has to stop, right?  I don't remember my parents looking at me that way, although maybe they did and I just didn't see it.  I'm sure they love me (this parenting experience has certainly taught me that), but who can love a 13-year-old-who-is-demanding-Guess-jeans to tears?  Is it just easier to be moved this way when they're so little and pure and perfect, and not as easy once they're older and possibly sassy?  Those of you with older kids, what say ye?

Lightning Strikes!

Sometimes really great ideas just come to me. I had one on Sunday and was so excited about it I nearly peed my pants.

Early Sunday afternoon, I was checking my blogs and saw these adorable pictures of my sister's kids celebrating Easter. It made me so sad to think that it will be a very rare occurrence for me to see these events live. Not only will I miss Easter egg hunts, but all the other holiday celebrations as well. I don't like that one bit.

But what to do??? Well let me tell you! At those special times when we do get together, we're going to celebrate all those holidays at that time. That's right: we'll have Easter eggs hunts, birthday parties, make Valentine's day cookies, eat Thanksgiving dinner, open Christmas presents, go trick-or-treating, and light fireworks. We'll choose a holiday and do some fun event from that holiday, one holiday per day . It won't be a huge deal, as that would simply be exhausting. Besides, I can't pack enough crap to carry all the necessary props for this. But how hard would it be to make paper plate masks and have the kids go trick-or-treating at each door in my parents' house?! Doing this would give great photo opportunities, as well as give us something to do.

We're visiting Emily's house in July and I can't wait to catch up on all the holiday celebrations. And if you come to visit my house and I don't see you very often, don't be surprised if we dye eggs in August or have turkey in April.

P.S. If you haven't already, please start watching "Better Off Ted" on TV. It's hysterical and critically-acclaimed, which is why it will likely soon be killed.

More Advice, Please (Who Knew I Was So Bad at this Mom Thing?)

After two afternoon naps that didn't take at all (baby hung out in the crib and babbled for over an hour before we felt like horrible parents for leaving him there like that), we're starting to wonder if Rhett's now ready to transition to one nap.  This one nap is usually longer than those he has when he takes two, and usually doesn't happen until after lunch, leaving a very long time in the morning to spend with him.  Great, right?  Wrong.

This is been one of the hardest things for me as a mom: what in the world am I supposed to do to keep him busy for six hours in a row? He's only one year-old so doing things like going to the zoo or the aquarium aren't yet exciting. He can't walk very well, but gets frustrated when he's in the stroller or car too long. I get bored when we're hanging out in the play room all morning. Am I supposed to be doing art projects? Play acting? Creative writing? I just have no idea. Please please please tell me what you do (or did) when you only had one baby.  I am scared to death of this one nap thing, and I need you to tell me it will be okay.  Even if it's not.

Another Task Completed

Don't you love it when you can cross off things from your "to do" list? I do. Sometimes I make lists that include things I've already accomplished just so I can cross them off the list. This weekend I was able to cross off another big YW event. I learned a lot about how to run a fund-raising garage sale, as well as how not to do one. Mostly I'm glad that it's over. (If anyone has to do one of these, I'd be glad to impart the things that I learned. Just ask.)

After spending two days with other people's crap stuff, I am pretty proud that I only took home two objects. The first is a set of sundae glasses that were just too cute to let go, and the other was this pair of perfectly lovely shoes. Don't you think they complement my newly-pedicured (it was definitely a well-deserved pedicure) feet very well? I mean, who else would fit in these shoes, other than an 8-year-old?!

Do You Ever Wish You Could Go Back in Time?

And I don't mean that in an Uncle-Rico-"I-would-take-State" way.

It's been a hard week.  My church calling has been extremely taxing, and I'm exhausted.  Often when I feel like this because of my calling or because of my job as a Mom, it'll cause days of "I wish my life wasn't my life."  Ya know?  Like, some days it's just too hard to be me.  Or, it's just too hard to be me at this time.

For example, when I'm having days (or weeks) like this, I often wish I could go back to the spring of 2007.  I think it was the best time of our marriage to date.  Chuck and I were doing speed development training.  I loved running with him.  I love challenging ourselves and being able to share it.  ("How were your 13 miles?")  Also, we went to Puerto Rico for spring break that year.  It was a fantastic trip.  We were thinking about starting a family, but knew it was still a couple months away.  It was just a great time.

And now?  I still love my husband, and I really love my baby (oh my do I love that boy).  But he's hard.  And church is hard.  And sometimes you just don't want to do anything except have three skinny cows for dinner and call it a day.

Please tell me I'm not the only one has these days. And, if you want, tell me into which "version of you" you turn.

The Fruits of Our Labors

We did it! Not only did we have another successful no-TV Monday night, but we finished our Facebook quiz: "What Font Are You?" After spending nearly three hours on it last Monday, we were just ready for it to be over. So the questions might not seem like they're related to whichever font you are, but that's just because, well, they're not (shhhhhh). But take it anyway because we were super witty in writing the final outcomes.

Then YOU write a FB quiz. It's fun and easy! I promise I'll take it.

If you're my FB friend, you should be able to find the quiz fairly easily. But if you can't find it, let me know. I tell you, it's going to take FB by storm! Everyone's doing it.

The Cherry Blossom Debacle

We decided we could and would do it.  When Saturday showed that Sunday's forecast was for perfect (sunny with temps in the low 70s), we thought, "Hey, we get up at 6 a.m.  Why don't we go as soon as Rhett wakes us up and for sure we'll get a parking space close to the trees?  Who else would be at the Tidal Basin at 7 a.m. on a Sunday?"  Great plan, right?!  Wrong.

Problem # 1.  Rhett let us sleep in until 6:30 a.m.  (Yes, you lucky childless folk, 6:30 a.m. is sleeping in.)  This was great except that we had planned to be long gone by this time.  Remember Home Alone where they are frantically trying to leave the house?  Yep, that was us.  We were out of the house at 6:45 a.m.

Problem # 2.  We decided to take the GW Parkway to Memorial Bridge.  We got there at 7:31 a.m., one minute after the bridge was closed.  One minute.  And this was really closed, not just kinda closed. I'm talking barricades and police. Why? Oh yeah, this small race called the "Cherry Blossom 10-miler."

Problem # 3.  This race is actually one of the largest running races in the country.  In fact, yesterday they had a record 14,000+ runners finish (finish, not just start) the race.  So not only was our bridge closed, but once we figured out how to get into the city (man, I hate driving in Virginia!), it was packed.  All those runners had to be parked somewhere, and they were right where we wanted to be.  We couldn't even get out of the car.  (Chuck's mom was with us and considering the pain she's in, we couldn't park close enough for her.  But that's okay.)

Once we decided to abandon seeing Tidal Basin blossoms, we thought we'd take a drive through the Kenwood subdivision in Maryland where the blossoms are stunning.  So we at least got pretty close to some.

So how were these pictures taken if we never left the car?  We walked seven houses down from ours and snapped them.  Maybe we should have done that in the first place.  But the really good news was that we got to eat Monkey Bread when we came home.  Omy.  Soooo good.


Anyone notice my squished left eye?  Isn't it weird?  I don't think I have palsy.

You Know It's Bad Mexican Food When...

...you feel the need to eat Taco Bell just to redeem last night's dinner.

Need More Advice

I have a testimony of naps.  When Rhett gets his naps (he's still taking two), he's a happier baby. When he's a happier baby, I'm a happier mama.  And when he doesn't get his naps, well, ain't nobody happy.

But this devotion to napping is quite time-restrictive.  During wake time #1, we run.  During wake time #2, we do errands, and during wake time #3, we play with dad and do dinner.  The longest period of awake is only about three hours, which doesn't leave much time to do "big" things.  And since that one is right during rush-hour, well, we don't leave the house much.

So how do all of you people doing "big" things do it?  All I want to do is go see the Cherry Blossoms. That's it.  But if you know DC, going downtown from suburban Maryland isn't a three-hour tour (or is it???).  Do you hope the little ones sleep in strollers?  Do you forgo naps and just hope they don't have serious breakdowns?  Any advice would be appreciated.  Please.  Pretty please.

Report on TV-Free Mondays

Remember when I told you how Chuck and I were going to experiment with not watching TV one night per week? Well, the first Monday it didn't happen because it was just too soon. We needed time to accept this. The next Monday we did it. And it was hard. We were bored. Thankfully we were saved the next week by my parents. But we couldn't expect them to live by our crazy rules. Especially during March Madness. Last night, however, we jumped back on the wagon. We knew we had to have something to keep us busy. What did we find? Homemade quizzes on Facebook. That's right: soon you'll be able to take a quiz written by yours trulies, c and e. Be watching friends!

Desperately Seeking Advice

Now that Rhett has crossed the threshhold into the forward-facing car seats, I find myself stymied. The main reason for this is that we have three cars in which Rhett regularly rides: mine, Chuck's, and the babysitter's. Do we need to buy three car seats: one for each of the cars? Or two seats: one for me and one for Chuck/Mary? Or even just one, and we all share it? For those of you with these next-step seats, how easy are they to switch between cars? Do they have bases they just click into? Or do they require a fireman to adjust them every time? Any advice on how we should handle this?? Please???

Habitat for Hubanity: Pug Stickers

When I saw these stickers online, I knew I had to have them. And now I do.

The Birthday

Technically, he didn't turn 1 until 6:29 p.m., but we didn't care; we've been celebrating since he woke.  And neither did he, especially since he really has no idea that today was any different from yesterday. Although, maybe all the people staring at a naked him as he ate some weird, brown, soft food for the first time hinted at it.  (But the hat definitely did not contribute to any weirdness; we make him wear those all the time.)

Birthday Banner Tutorial

In preparation for tomorrow's big day (!), I made this banner. I like my fabrics, but don't love them. I guess I'll have to make another for Christmas, or Halloween, or both.
I also put together a tutorial, but only after the fact, so there are no pictures from along the way. Feel to ask me any questions!

Materials:
Seven fat-quarters (or quarter-yard cuts of seven different fabrics) for the flags
One-quarter yard of fabric for the letters
3 yards double-fold, extra wide bias tape (Note: I made my own bias tape following directions found here. This is only advisable if you want a color or print that you can't find in the premade bias tape packages.)
One-half yard of muslin for backing
1 yard of 17”-wide Heat ‘n’ Bond (can be found at JoAnn or other fabric stores; it’s sold in a package)
Thread the color of your bias tape

Instructions
Prep

Wash and iron your fabrics.

Create letter appliqués

Cut 13 rectangles (sized 3 1/2” x 4 1/2”) from your letter fabric. Cut them such that the tall sides (the 4 1/2” sides) stretch from selvage to selvage to make sure you have enough fabric.

Cut 13 rectangles of the Heat ‘n’ Bond just slightly smaller than the 3 1/2” x 4 1/2” rectangles you cut from your letter fabric.

Attach the Heat ‘n’ Bond rectangles to the wrong sides of the fabric rectangles following the directions on the package. You should then have 13 pieces of stiff fabric.

Cut out the letters from here and here. You don’t need to cut them out exactly on the lines. Just loosely around the edges will be fine.

Pin the letters right-side up to the right-side of your stiff fabric rectangles. Now cut them out on the lines. You’ll need to do this twice for the “h,” “a,” “p,” and “y.” You should now have all thirteen letters spelling “Happy Birthday.”

Sew Flags

From the muslin, cut fourteen (14) 5-1/2” x 8” rectangles.

From each of the seven flag fabrics, cut two (2) 5-1/2” x 8” rectangles.

With right-sides together, lay one muslin rectangle on top of one flag rectangle and pin to secure; do this to create fourteen fabric “sandwiches.”

For each fabric sandwich, sew (with 1/4” seam allowance) down one long side, turn 90 degrees and sew the bottom, and then turn and sew up the other side, backstitching at each end. This should create a sewn line in the shape of a “U” with the top open.

Trim the bottom corners on each piece to reduce bulk.

Turn each piece inside out and press. Make sure to get the corners as pointy as possible.

Attach letter appliqués to flags

Set your flags right-side up on your ironing board. Position the letters where you want them on the flags and iron on the letters. Again, refer to package directions for more instructions on this step. Note: Since there are two of each flag fabrics, I did mine in abcdefg-abcdefg repeating fashion. You can do yours randomly, of course.

You can use scrap fabric to create a cake for the flag in between the two words. Or you can leave it plain. Follow the same directions for attaching rectangles using the Heat 'n' Bond.

Attach bias tape to banner

Lay out flags on the floor in order. I lined mine up along the tops and separated them only slightly.

Unwrap the bias tape and find the center. Put that center between the letters “b” and “i.” Pin the tape to the tops of the flags, with the tops of the flags sandwiched between the folds of the bias tape and shoved into the bias tape as much as possible. Note: Bias tape generally has one side that is longer. It’s up to you which side you’d like facing out, but I recommend sewing on the shorter side as it will ensure that you catch the back of the bias tape.

Sew the bias tape to the flags. (See note above.)

You can cut the bias tape to adjust the length to what you want/need.

Hang for the next birthday and enjoy!

Made By e: Recent Projects

Here are some thing I've been working on recently.

Wall quilt for the basement which matches the fabrics in these window treatments.

A lunch bag for Rhett on my work days:

When the weather was nice for about, oh, a week, we were leaving the doors and windows open.  Our front door won't stay open, however, so I made this door stop.  Of course, since the day I finished it I haven't been able to use it because it's been too cold.  Come back spring!  (Thanks again, Cam, for that fabric.)

Bruno's crate cover.  It was covered in two sports blankets that just weren't making me happy.  This, however, totally does. In person, it doesn't look as canvas-tentish as it does in this picture. It's a nice sage green.

Habitat for Hubanity: Basement Bathroom

When we bought our house last year, we loved that our house had two full bathrooms, but didn't love the masonite covering all of the walls in the basement bathroom. Nor did we love the cement floor in the shower in that bathroom. But as that bathroom is rarely used, we knew we could leave it alone for a time.

When my parents decided to come visit over Rhett's first birthday, we knew we couldn't expect them to wear "shower shoes" while showering, that is, unless they were showering at camp. Nor could we expect them to trek up and down the stairs just to take a shower (remember, they're OLD). When my bad memory told me the shower walls were cement as well, I thought we could just tile the shower and not worry about the masonite walls for the time being. But when Chuck reminded me that the everything was covered in masonite and that it would be nearly impossible to redo only the shower, we knew we had to (1) redo the whole thing and (2) get someone else to do it (see #1).

When sitting on the toilet in that bathroom, the wall on the left was, for lack of a better term, "squishy." This made us uncomfortable. What could be lurking on the other side of that wall? Why was it so squishy? We were scared (but not as scared as when I lived in Orem and thought a homeless man was living in my spare bathroom). And given this economy, we were afraid that if we brought in a crew that we didn't know, they'd give us a great initial estimate, but once that squishy wall was opened, well, that estimate would triple. So while it's not something we normally do, we asked a member of our ward, who does this for a living, to do it. We felt that not only would he do good work, but that he'd be honest about the squishy wall. Enter Allen.

Well, after nearly four weeks (not because it was that big of a job, but just because) we have a finished bathroom with real (!) walls (not one of which is squishy) and a beautiful shower! We love love love it and are so glad to not have to wear shower shoes.

Look at that horrible masonite!
And that shower door?! Yikes.
Understand the need for shower shoes now?


Drum roll please....

A New Experiment

I can't remember where I read it, but it sounded like a great idea: for one night a week we do not turn on the TV.

Ever since Rhett's appearance, Chuck and I have certainly cut back on the TV watching. That doesn't mean we don't watch a lot of TV now; I only said we "cut back." So when I read this I thought it would be great for us. It's only one night a week, and really, we have TiVo, so how hard can it be?

I first pitched this idea on Sunday and brought it up again Monday. We agreed that Monday would be a perfect day for going TV-free. Of course, we weren't mentally prepared for it to start that soon. We'll start next week. Anyone want to join us?

Contest

If anyone can give me one good reason for a person doing this to their car, I'll send you a prize:

Mom Goggles

Seriously, I can not find one thing wrong with this boy.  And believe me, I've tried.  Even when the doctors give me his percentiles and his head is much bigger than everything else, I can't see it; rather, I see this perfect baby boy head.  I look for other things that might make people say (behind my back of course), "Gee, that baby is not cute," but I just can't see how anyone could say such things.  The boy is perfect.

Made by e: Hobby Horse with Matching Pants

On a blog I follow, I saw that they made a stick horse.  When I saw it, I thought it would be perfect for my nephew Miles' fifth birthday today.  As his birthday approached and I started thinking about it, it just got more and more daunting.  The blog left out the hardest part: how to make the actual horse!  Do they think that I'm an artist?  Sheesh!  So I enlisted my design staff (cough, cough, Chuck) and he and I worked a mock-up and then this final version.  Because I'm not going to mail and entire broom stick nor a stuffed horse head, we'll have to see how it all comes together.

I then made some cowboy bandana pants to match.
Happy Birthday Miles! We love you!

Breakfast Club Mutt

Remember the movie, "The Breakfast Club?" Of course you do. It's shown on TBS at least once a week. In response to Mr. Vernon's request to write an essay answering the question, "Who do you think you are?" Brian pens this essay:

Dear Mr. Vernon:

We accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was we did wrong. But we think you're crazy to make us write an essay telling you who we think we are. You see us as you want to see us, in the simplest terms, in the most convenient definitions. But, what we found out is that each one of us is a brain, and an athlete, and a basket case, and a princess, and a criminal. Does that answer your question?

Sincerely yours, The Breakfast Club.

Chuck and I were talking about this movie at dinner (we find ourselves frequently quoting it to one another) and I asked him who he thought he was? Like Brian, we came to the conclusion that we are both some sort of Breakfast Club Mutt. But in what proportions? Chuck certainly has a lot of the brain in him, but there's definitely a little criminal, as well as the others. I, too, think I'm mostly the brain (there's just too much logic in my head to leave room for much else), but certainly the others exist inside me. What about you? Are any of you completely deficient of one of them?

All-New Friendly Friend Game, Part 2

(This one will be an instant version of this game.) Here's the question. Would I rather my child be overweight or have an average intelligence? Think for a moment before looking at the answer...3...2...1...

Average intelligence. Hands down. Chuck and I were recently discussing this and I was shocked at my answer.

Yes, I would love if Rhett turns out to be smart. Chuck and I think that we are fairly intelligent beings and really appreciate intelligence in others (although the really dumb ones can be quite hysterical at times, as long as they're not driving). We even find smart to be sexy. We have smart friends, some smart family (ha), and in general, like to be around smart people. However, people with average intelligence have done great things. Having an average intelligence might teach Rhett to work that much harder. Maybe he would appreciate his strengths more than others with whom things come more naturally. And since he'd have average intelligence, he'd be where most people are: in the middle.

But being overweight puts you in a different class. During the school years, being overweight can so severely affect your self-esteem that, I believe, it can influence some serious decisions made during those years. It can affect your choice of friends, your level of involvement in school activities, your relationships with everyone, not to mention your health. I just think it's dangerous, both physically and emotionally.

Certainly we're doing everything we can for him to have a healthy body as well as a healthy mind. We've read to him since he was born, but also make sure he works his body (the walking has helped with this). School will be his number one priority, but we both want physical activity to also be an important part of the entire family's lives. But if I had to choose, well, you know...

What about you? If you feel like you have average intelligence, would you trade it for a genius-level IQ if it meant you had to be overweight? And if you feel like you're smart and overweight, would you dumb yourself down for a slimmer you? And what is your choice for your kids (as if you really had the option for choosing)?

Talk About In Like a Lion...

Even though it's March and I'm ready for spring, I'll take five inches of snow anytime Maryland wants to throw it my way. Especially if it means a day off for Chuck (which, of course, it does).

Desperately Seeking Opinions

In our previous ward, there were two couples that Chuck and I really liked. We didn't know them terribly well, but regardless, we looked up to them tremendously. One couple was old enough to be our parents and the other had teenage children. Chuck and I liked musing that "we'd like to be them when we grow up." So here's the question: would it be weird to send them a little note telling them this, that we want to grow up to be just like them? Would they think us (well, me since I'd be the actual card writer) crazy?

Recent Email Conversation with My Mom

Me: So emily and I were talking, and since you are the reason that our eyes are horrible, you need to pay for us to get laser eye surgery. Okay? Okay! Thanks in advance!

(a very clever) Mom: Sorry! Can I sue you two for ruining my figure? I got it back after the boys were born, but after having two more kids, I’ve been ruined for life!!!

Me: Hey now, we didn't say anything about suing you! And fiiiiine. We'll just call it even. Your body for our eyes. Sigh. WAIT! Maybe we can sue dad for our thighs???

Mom: Valiant try.

Habitat for Hubanity: Doors

The first time we walked into our house, I thought the bi-fold, full-length mirrored closet doors in the master bedroom and Rhett's room were a bit dated. But I grew to love them. I mean, how long as it been since I've had a full-length mirror? Years. Possibly even a decade. Once I grew accustomed to them, I still didn't like that they were trimmed in brown wood while all other trim in both rooms was white. So when we were recently given a weekend with 60-degree-plus days, we took to painting them outside. Voila!

Made by e

When your floor looks like this:

you better make one of these:

P.S. If you're curious, those are little pieces of olive and tortillas with melted cheese. Click on the picture. There are just a million of those little suckers. Bruno must have been outside or normally he'd act as the vacuum. Except for olives; he hates olives.

Fun for Friday

First, this map game. But if you play, you have to promise to leave a comment with your scores. For me, the first time I played I got 92% correct with an average error of 13 miles. When I played just now, I got 100%. Remember people, I have a degree in geography and I totally did stuff like this in my major courses (riiiiiight, actually I'm just trying to make you feel better).

Second, this website. If you go to it, you have to promise to leave a comment with the food that you'd most like to eat. For me, it's a toss-up between the bacon wellington explosion and sloppy joes on a donut.

P.S. Speaking of donuts, anyone want to do this race with me next year? R and A, how could you not tell me about this?!

It's the Happiest Season of All

I love tax time. I love doing our taxes; I love filling out the little forms; I love submitting my taxes (and for free this year too--yippee!); I love (crossing my fingers here) getting a refund. I get so excited for January 31st because I know that employers are supposed to have the W-2s mailed to everyone by that date. And the 1099s? How fun are they?! It's all just so much fun.

Along with tax time, the new year brings a new budget. With Chuck working in the schools, I actually get to adjust our budget twice a year (!) as his pay increases take effect in September. I love doing the budget. Seeing how much money we can put into savings or use to buy new fabric is thrilling. Then updating the Excel spreadsheet to track it all?! Oh my. I can hardly wait.

Don't bother telling me how sick I am. I already know.

Recession Hits Home

From the time when media people and politicos started talking about a recession, Chuck and I balked. Really? A recession. Whatever. We were still making the same amount of money and were still living within our means. It had zero effect on us. But more recently, we have started feeling it.

We have our jobs and thankfully, since we both have fairly-stable government jobs, we have no fear about losing our own either. And we know no one who has lost theirs. Embarrassingly enough though, I got the largest cost-of-living raise I've ever had since working for the feds in January. However, I did not get my yearly bonus. Mind you, this bonus is not a $50 check; it's actually quite a large chunk of change. And every other organization got their bonus in the department in which I work; needless to say, employees in my organization were not happy. But I won't complain. (See first three sentences of this paragraph.)

As for Chuck, his raises take place in September with the new school year. While this coming September he'll see his usual step increase, he will not see the union-negotiated 5% increase. (I had no idea that the county could even do this as it had already promised the union that it would give it to employees!) This is really disheartening, but again, see sentences 1-3 in paragraph 2.

Finally, the one that affects us in hopefully a good way, are foreclosures. While we did not buy a home that had been foreclosed on, we live in a neighborhood FULL of them. The house next door and the house across the street are both empty. These empty homes obviously bring down property values, whether or not I can make my mortgage. We recently pulled a list of 15 recently-sold homes in my neighborhood, and I think 12 of them were short sales or bank-owned properties. 80%! That's a big percentage. What this means for us is that homes are worth less than they were (duh). And since our home was assessed when values were still increasing, this July's tax assessed value is approximately $100,000 more than the average selling price of homes in my neighborhood, and $70,000 more than we paid for the home. I love my house; I know it's in better shape than 95% of homes in my neighborhood (Thanks Larsons!) but I also know I'd be laughed to the moon if I tried to sell it at $100,000 more than the neighbor's home. Hopefully the tax assessors agree.

Other than that, nothing for us has changed. We still make more than we spend. We still are able to do the fun things we want and buy treats when we want them. We're lucky. And grateful.

Anyone else feeling effects of the recession? Have you made any changes in your lifestyle because of it?

If Tiger Tells Me So...

As the Super Bowl was less than two weeks ago, we've probably all been exposed to a new barrage of ads. I used to think it was silly for companies to spend millions of dollars on advertising. Do the big corporate heads really think that just because Payton Manning tells me to use a MasterCard, I will do so? (Bad example, I actually think Payton is hysterical. "Will you sign this loaf of bread for my brother?" Too funny. But you know what I mean.)

For the first time in my life, however, I am knowingly looking into a product (laser eye surgery) strictly because of its endorser (Tiger Woods). Why would I do this? First, I think Tiger's eyes are very important to him. Yes, yes, they're important to all of us, but certainly they are to him. Second, because he has gazillions of dollars, I think he has the staff required to do research into who would give him the best outcome. It simply becomes: because Tiger chose TLC, I am choosing TLC. And I am not ashamed.

So what about you? Has an endorser ever influenced your decision on which products to use?

I Love Fonts, Probably More Than I Should

It's Been a Big Week at Our House

This past week was a week of firsts.  Rhett finally decided to grow himself a tooth.  That's right, at 10 1/2 months, he gets tooth #1.  It could be worse; Chuck and I knew this family with twins who didn't get teeth until they were two.  That's right: TWO.  But I think the worst of the teething is over now, well,  at least until tooth number two.

Because he's started to use them more as toys rather than calming mechanisms, we've gotten rid of his pacifiers (it didn't hurt that we lost two of three of them).  When he started throwing them out of his crib just to see where they'd land, well, we thought they weren't doing such a good job of helping him get to sleep.  With the pacifiers he went right to sleep for naps and at night.  Without the pacifiers, however, we've seen very small crying spells, but as they're only 2-3 minutes long, I won't complain.  The only times we're still using them are in church and while loading him in the car seat.  He hates being loaded into the car seat.

And finally, the little man has decided to start walking, after much encouragement from his father, of course.  He's starting to do it more on his own, but still needs some help from us.  And because I couldn't decide which video to post, you get to see both.

Flashback Friday

As I got called out by my cousin on my lack of Christmas-card-creativity (remember though, I never claim to be creative, rather, I'm re-creative), I thought I'd share the inspiration for our holiday card. What you have is a four-month-old me with my two older brothers (ages 8 and 6 at the time) when we were living in Hawaii. What a good looking bunch.

I don't appear to hate it nearly as much as Rhett did.

And just for fun, another picture. Don't I look really mature for my age?

A Friendly Public Service Announcement

It's been said that you learn something new everyday. On Monday this was certainly true. As I was getting Rhett's lunch ready, the smoke alarm went off. But it wasn't alarming us to a fire, but rather to carbon monoxide (CO). With fire, I would have known what to do. Grab the baby, the dog, my sewing machine, and run outside. Then commence with crying. But with carbon monoxide, I had NO IDEA. I called Chuck at work and he called his dad (what any self-respecting adult does: call parents). While I was waiting on his call, my sister called to say hi, at least that's what I think she was calling for; we never really got to her. When I told her of my plight, she told me to call the fire department (who knew!?). This turned out to be the right answer, but since it was unknown to me, I thought maybe it would be unknown to others and maybe you could learn something new today too.

What to do when the carbon monoxide detector goes off:
1. Do not open your windows. When the emergency personnel arrive, they'll use their super special tools to try to find the source and levels of the CO. If you have opened the windows, not only will it lower the number, but likely disrupt the location of the CO making it hard to find the source of the problem.

2. Call the fire department, not 911, but the actual fire department. (Of course, it's probably a good idea to have numbers like this on the fridge or somewhere instead of having to find them in the phone book for this type of situation.)

3. Grab your keys and get all living things outside and wait for the emergency personnel to arrive. If it's cold, get in the car. Entertain said living things. We did this by hearing the fire truck leave the station (we're maybe 0.5 miles from it) and watch it come the wrong way up our one-way street.

What to expect when they're done:
The fire people will likely open the windows once their done, and depending on the levels, will tell you whether it's safe to return to your house. Hopefully they will have found the source of the problem and then you can remedy it.

This experience certainly got me thinking about emergency plans. We don't have them but we definitely should (FHE next Monday?). Have any of you done this? What sorts of things would you grab in a fire? Do any of you have a fire-proof box to keep important documents?

An Interesting Proposition

Sandra's TANFFG question (would she rather repeat labor or David's newborn stage) was so interesting to me because I've thought about this quite a bit. For me, pregnancy was fairly easy. I wasn't sick once. I only gained 30 pounds (although, given my height, maybe that's more than I should be okay with). And I didn't feel miserable until about 34-35 weeks, when I think everyone is allowed to feel miserable because you're just too awkward to ever feel comfortable.

And labor? Are you kidding me? I was induced, given drugs, and was able to be awake and enjoy the entire experience. I pushed for only 20 minutes and then the little guy was here! Sure, I hated having all the IVs in me, but they were shortly removed.

Rhett as a newborn...that's another story. I really don't love the baby stage. I know I'm supposed to try to cherish every stage because they change so fast. And yes, I'm seeing that. But I still think that I'm allowed to enjoy some stages more than others. (I think my dad likes me and emily as adults far better than any other stage!) I really think I'll enjoy being a mom to teenagers. I know they're hard, but babies? They might be harder, at least for me. (This is why Young Women is such a better fit for me than Primary!)

When I talked to R about this once, she had the opposite feelings. Her pregnancy was wicked hard. We're not talking your standard issue morning sickness. We're talking morning, evening, night sickness for nine months with hospital visits and IVs tossed in just for fun. Pretty obvious that she hates being prego. But she loves the infant stage. So we came up with this proposal: I'll carry her babies, deliver them, and then give them to her immediately upon birth. And my babies? Same thing: I'll carry them and then give them to her immediately upon birth. She'll keep them for a year and then give them back to me. I'm sooo tempted.

Then again, I'd miss this age...