tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12505514666580336462024-03-06T00:08:25.857-08:00It's the Neener Dog Neener Nationals!This title comes from my brother who, when I entered a room, would often say, "It's the Neener Dog Neener Nationals!" It comes from a Miller Lite Beer Commercial, but it was the Weiner Dog Weiner Nationals. My nickname was Neener...I don't drink beer...And I'm not a dog...Not that there's anything wrong with that.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger38125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1250551466658033646.post-54893230024532869702009-05-15T10:59:00.000-07:002009-05-15T11:19:50.542-07:00MmmmmmmmI didn't eat chocolate for years, but now it has been years since I broke the no chocolate phase. Now I'm on a diet, but I still can't pass up free chocolate.<br />If you love chocolate too, or you just like free stuff, every Friday until September, Mars Candy company is giving away 250,000 coupons for a free Mars candy bar. It starts at 9am every Friday, so if you don't make this one, try again next Friday.<br />Just go to <a href="https://secure.realchocolate.com/">https://secure.realchocolate.com/</a><br /><br />I got this information from Marne's blog which is under my blog list and is the one called<br /><a href="http://wantitall4free.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Making Life Sweet...one deal at a time!</a> She always has great stuff on there.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1250551466658033646.post-42834991465447683552009-04-26T20:50:00.000-07:002009-04-26T21:24:48.183-07:00Yes, I am a BlondI used to have super blond hair, but as I've gotten older, it has darkened some. Sometimes I wonder if I could still be considered a blond, but moments like Thursday, reconfirmed my blondness.<br />I was in Provo with my sister-in-law, Heidi, for her sister's wedding. I went with her to help with her three kids. Anyway, I was driving Heidi's van and she told me to park behind her brother-in-law's car, which would stick me halfway in their driveway, and also blocking the sidewalk.<br />"I can't block the sidewalk." I complained.<br />"Sure you can." She said.<br />"Yeah, why not?" Her brother, who looks amazingly a lot like Jesus, asked.<br />I was so flustered, I answered as I went ahead and parked, "What if I get hit by a blind kid on a bike?"<br /><br />After a lot of laughing, Heidi and Chris pointed out that usually you don't give a blind kid a bike. You probably shouldn't give your new minivan to a blond either.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1250551466658033646.post-44252887269013168782009-04-12T21:38:00.000-07:002009-04-12T22:00:27.928-07:00I Thought...But NoI sat in the back row in Sunday School today. Usually it is full of people with their toddlers. They use the huge gap between the back row and the rest of the rows to run around. Peter came in late but he sat next to me in the back.<br />During the lesson I reached over swiped the Altoids tin from his pocket. I was surprised when he didn't put his hand out for some too. Then I realized he was intensely watching a little girl run back and forth on her tip toes. I felt my heart skip a beat. Peter never shows interest in any children, especially the ones who still wear diapers. That's why they all like him.<br />So I was pretty excited to see his heart soften enough to closely watch this cute little girl. Then I realized the truth when I heard snickering from everyone else in the back row. Peter was teasing her with his laser pointer. The poor girl kept trying to catch the red dot, but he always kept it just out of reach. He used it to repeatedly lead her back to her parents...away from him.<br /><br />So, I thought he had a new found soft spot for children...but no.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1250551466658033646.post-71486649614306833742009-02-03T18:56:00.000-08:002009-02-03T20:12:23.543-08:00Apparently, It was a Bad IdeaMadagascar is facing a civil war after <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Andry</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Rajoelina</span>, the Mayor of the capital city Antananarivo, denounced President Marc <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Ravalomanana</span> as "a dictator, a scoundrel and a thief." Protests and violence have gotten out of hand, leaving about 100 people dead. My sister-in-law's family lives there and it stinks with the dead and burning bodies. For now they are safe, but they are close to the violence.<br />I asked Ken and Eva what they thought, "Who side are you on?" They basically told me that while they don't really like either one, the mayor is clearly the greater of the two evils. He just wants power, and so he creates contention and encourages his supporters to over throw the president. Honestly he has enough followers to become president if he waits until 2011.<br />So here is what I find funny. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Rajoelina</span> actually declared, that he was ruling Madagascar now and that the people will be following him. He told school children and civil servants to stay home on Monday, to show solidarity. No one really did that, showing that he overestimated his support.<br />So what do you do to a mayor who's a rebel <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">rouser</span>? You fire him, duh! And that's what they've done.<br />I must say that the guy has a lot of guts to suddenly declare himself in charge.<br />So, I was in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">el</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">baño</span> thus pondering if I would have the guts to do that. I'm not a huge fan of the U.S. government as it is. Could I ever just stand up and say, "President Obama is a dictator, a scoundrel, and a thief. He doesn't deserve to be our president. I do. I am the president now and I will be giving the orders!" I had just finished that thought when the light bulb in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">el</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">baño</span> let out two loud pops and went out. According to cartoon laws of physics, if it had suddenly come on, that would mean I had a brilliant idea. Since it exploded and went out, apparently the universe was telling me it was a bad idea.<br /> So I have come to the conclusion not to overthrow the U.S. government. Too bad, as president I was going to take over Canada and Mexico. Then I was going to turn around and sell Mexico to Ireland. They deserve more land and I would much rather have leprechauns sneaking over the borders with their spunky attitudes and pots of gold...not that I mind Mexicans coming here, as long as they do so legally.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1250551466658033646.post-17619217056353689802009-01-19T19:49:00.000-08:002009-01-21T11:39:43.744-08:00Smokin' Hot!<span style="color:#000000;">First the Microwave, then the Laptop.<br />Things around here are a bit stinky. First it was my mom using the microwave. We noticed it sounded a little off. Then we noticed the smell. You know, the kind of smell that's like electrical smoke. So, we ended up getting a new microwave a couple days ago. It has new features the old one didn't have. Features like, delayed start. I can actually put my food in there the day before I want to heat it, and then it will turn on and heat my food for however long I told it to. Letting my food sit in there for so long, unrefrigerated, is a little gross, but I think it will be nice to set it to go off in a few minutes when I'm busy preparing other food. The other cool feature is I can just push reheat and it heats the food up to the right temperature without me giving it a time. It actually senses the steam and then bases how much longer to heat it based on that.<br />Then there is the problem with my laptop. It caught on fire. Now it's just a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">lapbottom</span>. Peter had to take the screen off because the wires were burning.<br />I had turned it off and flipped the screen down and then I noticed smoke, the same electrical smoky smell as with the microwave. I unplugged everything really quick and then I yelled for Peter and he took care of the rest while I flipped out. There was an actual flame!<br />So now I'm kind of hoping I'll get a newer laptop with better features, just like with the microwave.<br />I want my laptop to have a smoke sensor like the microwave has a steam sensor. That way if it happens again, it can shut itself off. I also want it to heat up food like the microwave does that way when I'm surfing the web I don't have to get up to get my Angel Pee and Cinnamon Hot Cocoa.<br />Next thing that needs to catch fire is the TV. I hate using the digital converter box and a new TV would be fantastic!</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1250551466658033646.post-52764041084000712262008-12-26T22:37:00.000-08:002009-01-21T11:40:34.498-08:00Better Late Than Never<span style="color:#000000;">Now that Christmas is over and I have some time to breathe, I decided to post a poem I wrote for my Christmas lesson for church, that I never used. (I hate to think I waisted my time.) Mostly I just feel guilty for not even mentioning Christmas. So here is my "better late than never" effort.<br /><br /></span><div align="center"><br /><span style="color:#000000;"><strong>'Twas the Night of True Christmas<br /></strong>'Twas the night of true Christmas, when all through the Earth,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">The world was stirring, with news of His birth,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">The stars in the Heavens hung by the moon with great care,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">In hopes of a glimpse of Our Lord laying peacefully there,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">The child was nestled all snug in his manger,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">While King Herod was plotting against him with danger,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">The wise men did come from far in the east,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">Unknowingly alerting this selfish beast,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">When in the fields there arose a messenger divine,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">Telling the shepherds of the true Christmas sign,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">Away in a manger all wrapped in swaddling clothes,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">While the Wise men sought him by following the starlight glows,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">The Nephites did look as the new star appeared,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">With no darkness that night, the righteous cheered,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">While the wicked did fall down to their knees,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">Regretting they couldn't slay the righteous as they pleased,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">So Satan doubled his efforts of doubt,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">Lyings, deceivings, and hardenings did sprout,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">But most of the people still knew he came,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">Baptism, repentance, and peace they did proclaim,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">Now in Bethlehem the Shepherds did see his angel's face!</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">Then with excitement told everyone, all over the place,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">The promised child lay cooing, at his mother so mild,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">With hope now all who heard surely smiled,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">The wise men did bring gifts, even three,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">They presented their treasures, bowing down on one knee,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">The first gift was that of beautiful gold,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">Something so valuable for one who is not very old,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">Then came the frankincense, the holy perfume,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">A great symbol of his future sacrifice, I presume,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">The third gift was that of myrrh, the great embalmer,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">A reminder of resurrection's new hope, and the stable grew calmer,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">All these grown men bowed down and worshiped the baby,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">The Lord's promises were sure, not just a maybe,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">A bundle of peace, a bundle of joy,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">He would grow in wisdom and stature, a smart little boy,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">The gift was given, the Lord came to reign!</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">From breaking the bands of justice to death's ugly chains, </span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">He would save us all from our world of doom,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">Because of him, all who died would rise from the tomb,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">But first he stayed among the children of men,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">He would teach us, love us, heal us and then,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">The small baby would pay for each and every sin,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">Then great long nails would pierce his precious skin,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">Upon a wooden cross he'd be lifted up,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">Because of love, His Father would not remove this cup,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">After three long days the babe turned man would rise,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">Giving promise of renewed life to all who dies,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">Yes, this babe in the manger would have a hard life,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">Full of mockings and trials and great unjust strife,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">Most beloved by all in heaven is given,<br />The brother who's life would be purpose driven,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">Look now upon this little Christ child with hope,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">You can be cleansed through him, better than any old soap,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">So let me hear you exclaim, ere ye go on with your celebration,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">"Merry Christmas to all, and to all salvation!"</span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1250551466658033646.post-61348227199788756772008-12-11T11:06:00.000-08:002008-12-11T11:27:10.336-08:00Can You See Him?I received an email from my mom yesterday. It was one of those ones where you forward it to 5 people cause, the person who created it felt like they would make their mark on the world by email. Here is what it basically said:<br /><br /><br />"If I could sit on the porch with God, the first thing I would do is thank him for you.... Forward this to at least 5 people including the person that sent it to you, a person will appear standing on this bridge. Let me know if you know the person ? Okay?"<br /><br />Here's the picture before. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278612780169498754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 299px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimpLusGvOBRGLqbS42-_dgrlMf7rypmiiMtkgVN5_Fw1kEGrovJ7CNPpM4bjAHeIiFxbPOkp-ehJvKRJe6VynyLpeuYbyQ4TyUcy61wL1i-_0Zla77DLFKz7UL8HmQBoAeZdk5KqRjHdBe/s400/bridge.jpg" border="0" /><br /><p> </p><p> </p>So we both had to try it. And the result is this picture.<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278613416858790114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 299px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8IrBIj3tSoAr-26G9EGPBxO6hUjg6J8siblb5x8WAYqXtMvU6Sequ141GhdoLjPXPwxm1jPIkIJ7O73_6Vi1m-8lNE95D9oQljo6EWZIc3C5N7JCc8vJGt9gMkel4kGeDbhKWqo1AR7MY/s400/bridge.jpg" border="0" /> <p>Do you see Him? Yeah, that's what I thought. </p><p>My mom emailed back and told me who she saw. "It must be the Holy Ghost!" </p><p>I love my mom!</p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1250551466658033646.post-37011590956709585082008-12-07T22:56:00.001-08:002008-12-07T23:14:37.796-08:00"It's Like an Angel Peeing on Your Tongue!"...That is if the angel had a candy cane fetish like I do. What am I talking about?<br />My new favorite tradition. Ready for this Holiday recipe?<br />First you take hot chocolate (I make it from scratch: cocoa, sugar, make it the same color as the commercially made Hot cocoa powder, then sprinkle a little salt, add a little water to make it a paste, boil it, then add milk and heat till it's good and hot.)<br />Put the hot chocolate in a mug and then... be prepared to be amazed at the next and final ingredient... Take a good scoop of peppermint ice cream and drop it into the hot cup of chocolate. It totally blew my mind that I never thought of this before. I think I have a new crush. *sigh*Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1250551466658033646.post-6936287414511011102008-12-01T13:14:00.000-08:002008-12-01T13:34:36.506-08:00Because I CanSo, I got an email from Kristin, one of those look at my answers and then fill in your own and email it to people <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">doohickeys</span>. Since I'm just not that kind of person, and it's not that I mind getting them or filling them out, but I really don't think other people care about my answers, I decided to just post the questions and my answers here. Okay, I'm also sick of looking at my last post.<br /><br />So if anyone wants to, I would love to hear your answers, but I won't bother tagging people, cause then I feel stupid when no one follows through.<br /><br />1. Wrapping paper or gift bags? <span style="color:#ff0000;">Gift wrap unless I'm lazy or out of tape.</span><br />2. Real tree or Artificial? <span style="color:#ff0000;">I like real, I settle for fake.</span><br />3. When do you put up the tree? <span style="color:#ff0000;"> Who knows? Last year it was two days before Christmas<br /></span>4. When do you take the tree down? <span style="color:#ff0000;">Are you kidding, I just put that thing up! It will be at least a couple weeks. <br /></span>5. Do you like eggnog? <span style="color:#ff0000;">As long as I don't think about what it is, I love it.<br /></span>6. Favorite gift received as a child? <span style="color:#ff0000;">One of those push sweepers.<br /></span>7. Hardest person to buy for? <span style="color:#ff0000;">It's Peter and everyone on his side of the family.<br /></span>8. Easiest person to buy for? <span style="color:#ff0000;"> Me. I like cheap stuff. Not to mention, I know what I like.<br /></span>9. Do you have a nativity scene? <span style="color:#ff0000;">A couple. One puts away like a puzzle into the Manger and I hand painted it myself</span><br />10. Mail or email Christmas cards? <span style="color:#ff0000;">I'm not into cards, sorry. I think its a Hallmark conspiracy.</span><br />11. Worst Christmas gift you ever received? <span style="color:#ff0000;">A dollar store unicorn balloon that you wear on you head for a party hat. Jason said I would think it was funny later, good thing he was right.</span><br />12. Favorite Christmas Movie? <span style="color:#ff0000;"> I absolutely hate Christmas movies unless they are about Christ. I did however cry during Elf..."I Believe." (I think that's what they said at the end)<br /></span>13. When do you start shopping for Christmas? <span style="color:#ff0000;">As late and gradually as possible</span><br />14. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present? <span style="color:#ff0000;"> You tell me.</span><br />15. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas? <span style="color:#ff0000;">uh, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">candy cane</span>?<br /></span>16. Lights on the tree - white or colored? <span style="color:#ff0000;">I like colors as long as they don't blink too fast and give me <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">motion sickness</span>. (I can't help following the lights around and round...)</span><br />17. Favorite Christmas songs: <span style="color:#ff0000;"> the ones in the hymn book, Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, but my favorite is O Holy Night<br /></span>18. Travel at Christmas or stay home? <span style="color:#ff0000;">Stay home. Unless Hawaii is an option ;-)<br /></span>19. Can you name all of Santa's reindeer? <span style="color:#ff0000;">Yes, including Olive.</span><br />20. Angel on the tree top or a star? <span style="color:#ff0000;">I guess you could call it a star. It's pointy.<br /></span>21. Open the presents Christmas Eve or morning? <span style="color:#ff0000;">We open presents made especially for us from extended family Christmas eve drawing. The rest on Christmas morning. (Ha Ha! I just used Kristin's answer)<br /></span>22. Most annoying thing about this time of the year? <span style="color:#ff0000;">Christmas movies. Bah! Humbug!</span><br />23. Favorite ornament theme or color? <span style="color:#ff0000;"> I like the ugly ones they make you make in school. I've never used so much yarn in my life.<br /></span>24. Favorite for Christmas dinner? <span style="color:#ff0000;">Funeral Potatoes, because we're celebrating a birth here, and ham, because what would Jesus do?</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1250551466658033646.post-37623061033035666832008-11-27T23:06:00.002-08:002008-11-27T23:58:07.343-08:00True ThanksgivingToday, I am grateful for everything obvious and the least obvious of them all.<br /><br />First, the obvious. I am grateful for my wonderful husband who is the only one who at least halfway gets me. I am grateful for his love, for his amazingly helpful attitude, and for how hilarious he makes life.<br /><br />I am grateful for the gospel and all things related to it. The scriptures, prayer, the Holy Ghost, Jesus Christ and his atonement, Heavenly Father, resurrection, Joseph Smith, the restoration of the gospel, and covenants.<br /><br />I am grateful to live in America and for the freedoms I enjoy. I am grateful for the food I so easily obtain and for Peter's job, health insurance, and for a roof over my head.<br /><br />I am so grateful for so many other things, but I won't bore you with the list.<br /><br />The most <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">unobvious</span> of them all is that I am grateful for the greatest trial I have ever faced. I am grateful for last summer when my world fell apart. So many things happened that I can't even talk about, but it was much more trying for me than anyone outside of my immediate family knew or will ever know.<br /><br />My brother and his wife died. That was excruciatingly tough. I loved them both so much and it was so hard to mourn the loss of two people you love that much. Your mind plays back memories of one and then the other like a tennis match. You think about their last moments and what they were thinking, what they felt.<br /><br />That was tough, but it only got tougher. As someone who has never had children, and the real possibility of never having them, I felt strongly impressed to take on raising their three young children to whom I was very close. I was soon faced with people stating my biggest fear, they didn't think I was good enough. Things were said that I have had a hard time forgiving for, but it wouldn't be fair for me to talk about because this is a one sided story.<br /><br />So, after imagining having children in my home and having that strong feeling that I should do that, I was faced with the toughest decision of my life. I had to give them up. I did it to maintain peace in our family. For months I was plagued with the question of whether it was right. I knew it was, but the question lingered. I could only turn to the scriptures and remember the women who fought over a baby. When they were told the baby would be split in half, the real mother gave him up for the baby's benefit. It wasn't that I thought I would get them if I gave them up, it was I had to make a decision to do what's right even if it means I would really have to follow through with giving them up.<br /><br />Beyond that, at the same time I was faced with another family trial, the one I won't talk about, but it was a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">doozy</span>. Combined with the others, this made up the worst time of my life. It's times like those that make you wonder what you did to deserve it. The answer was nothing. Every trial began out of my control. The only control I had was the way I reacted to it.<br /><br />I was able to humble myself more, and I prayed so much more for help, for comfort. I found out how strong I can really be and I learned to let the Lord direct my life. This trial period was one I will never forget. I am grateful for it and the way it shaped me and my life. It became a great awakening for me spiritually and it strengthened my character in ways unimaginable.<br /><br />Thus ends the, however many, days of gratitude.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1250551466658033646.post-40340034310563884392008-11-26T18:17:00.000-08:002008-11-26T19:07:33.589-08:00Wednesday's GratitudeI'm grateful I'm almost done with listing what I'm grateful for...just kidding. Today I am grateful for a dirty word I call infertility.<br /><br />Man I hate that word. It sounds so personal, and it is.<br /><br />Peter and I have tried to have a baby for years...over seven. It's tough because unless you went through it, you don't understand it. You suffer through people's insensitive comments and misunderstandings. People have stood in Sunday School and said, while looking directly at us, "It is a commandment to multiply and replenish the Earth and nobody should put it off for any reason." Yeah, that's awkward. And then there are the comments that backtrack..."Oh, yeah, it's great to be a mother, but I think that those women who can't have them are strong enough that it is a trial they don't have to go through." (Said while rubbing my back in a soothing manner.) That was even more awkward. It was a sweet thought, but honestly, I don't need to be defended.<br /><br />The worst are comments like, "Oh, someday you'll understand when you're a mother." Or "You don't understand because you don't have kids." As if I've never been near a child or watched my own family. "Oh yeah, but it's different."<br /><br />Beyond the outside world, into my own heart, is my own feelings. I'm broken. Something about me won't preform this basic commandment. Maybe if I was a better person. Maybe I've done something wrong. Maybe I can't be trusted with a child. I'm not good enough. I can't give Peter a child. He probably really wants one. He would be amazing.<br /><br />I have friends with this problem and they are at a stage of immense anger and bitterness whenever someone get pregnant. Suddenly they are the judge for who shouldn't have children.<br /><br />I'm not there anymore. Yes, I cry sometimes, but not so often. I've learned that through my trial, I have been brought closer to my Heavenly Father. I really learned that I need to trust him. He knows what is best for me. If it happens, it happens. But if not, then I can be happy knowing that I did my part and someday I will be blessed with that opportunity if I live righteously. I'm okay with either scenario.<br /><br />It has also brought me closer to my husband. I get to spend so much time with him with out getting a babysitter. We get to lie in bed in peace on Saturday mornings. He buys me cool things and I get to listen to him without interruption.<br /><br />I don't have to change diapers everyday, or potty train (well, too much). I don't have to listen to my child scream at me in public (just my nephews) or tell everyone all the embarrassing details of my personal life. I don't have to remember what takes crayon off the wall, or marker (I hear bread works for something). I don't have to make emergency room trips for the skittle they shoved up their nose. I don't have to be at their beckon call to give them food while I am famished. I get to be a little more selfish. I still eat the last cookie. I don't feel trapped at home, and quick trips to the grocery store aren't huge chores.<br /><br />Don't get me wrong. I love children. I want children very much, and I admire the mothers out there that do such an amazing job. I just have learned to love the freedom I enjoy. I appreciate the money we get to save. I also have way more energy and desire to play with my nieces and nephews. I get to be fun. Then I get to send them home.<br /><br />So, though infertility has been a major trial for me, I am grateful for it. I'll be grateful when it's over, but right now, I love my life. Dreaming of having a child is much easier and more romanticised than actually doing it.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1250551466658033646.post-2172339043045999422008-11-25T10:45:00.000-08:002008-11-25T15:08:26.055-08:00Tuesday's GratitudeToday, since I didn't mention this crazy little ritual yesterday, I am thankful for Dungeons & Dragons.<br /><br />I only wrote it and you will never catch me saying it out loud. But, yes, I am thankful for dungeons... because they keep the bad people put away in a nice dark depressing prison. And I'm thankful for dragons because they are so darn cute and hilariously funny. Have you ever seen Pete's Dragon?<br /><br />So with dungeons, Even if it is a good person stuck in the dungeon...Let's say a cleric, a lawful good human cleric, level 5, who only chose to be that for the good of the team (cause let's face it, they are boring). So, let's say he is put in that dungeon while on a campaign gone awry. Will he punish the guilty that wallow in their own filth in the dungeon for the sake of justice? Will he try to breakout for his own good, or will his criminalization of self interest hold him captive in favor of seeking justice for the other lowlifes in prison? Will the other members of his party save him? How will they save him? How much longer will this campaign go on? What will his crazy dungeon tattoo look like? All these complex answers and pivotal points can be answered with the simple roll of a dice.<br /><br />So, basically, dungeons are cool because they create a safe barrier between us and the bad guys, or they may create a side adventure that can take days to accomplish.<br /><br />With Dragons, forget that they're hilariously funny, that they are almost impossible to kill, and that they are pyromaniacs (Well, the red ones are), I am grateful to them because they create a horrifying challenge. I mean, seriously, the last time you even saw a dragon, you messed your pants, right? How could something so big, so terrifying, so fire breathing, be killed with a few rolls of a dice? Yes, there is strategy and all that, but honestly what else can be more empowering than to say, "Why, yes, Gary and Dave, I did slay that dragon. It was easy. It's all in the wrist. Just a flick of the wrist and a chant to the demon gods I call the Wizards of the Coast." "Did you use a sword?" "Nope." "Battle axe?" "Nope." "Quarter staff?" "No, I used a pair of dice." "No way? That rocks!"<br /><br />So, basically I'm thankful for Dragons because they make you feel like you can accomplish anything...and if you don't, your toast.<br /><br />So, to put it all together now, I am thankful for Dungeons & Dragons and they way they make you laugh, boost your self esteem, and create a crazy long and often entertaining story that only weirdos remember in detail.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1250551466658033646.post-4853797223499788042008-11-24T20:11:00.000-08:002008-11-24T21:28:55.765-08:00Monday's GratitudeToday I am thankful that my whole family is made of nuts.<br /><br />Seriously, I think every family has a silly person, but mine is all way too crazy. The funny thing is they think they're sane.<br /><br />One of my family members, (names withheld to protect the mentally ill) he counts things. It doesn't sound so weird, but it is. Anything in a room he has to count. The number of pictures on a wall, number of points on a cardboard crown, number of light bulbs, etc.<br /><br />Another one types words. If you say a sentence, they will make small movements with their fingers, typing out a word that stuck out to them from that sentence.<br /><br />You can't tell just by watching them that they are nuts, they have to let you in on their secret.<br /><br />Someone very close to me talks to stuffed animals, and they "talk back" using a totally less than heterosexual voice and the toys are fully animated when he moves the toys arms, tentacles, or whatever.<br /><br />An older relative talks back to those machines that call you about your interest on your credit card accounts. Yeah, he tells them off. He complains that I don't talk back to him when he gets my voicemail.<br /><br />A brother uses phrases like "you mean wall candy?", "Speaking of words that sound like ______(insert random awkward body part here)..."(hint- nothing was ever said that sounded remotely like said body part), and my favorite "it tastes like an angel peeing on your tongue".<br /><br />So, it only makes sense that I act the way I do. I come from a family of crazies.<br /><br />What do I do that is nuts? I guess it's only fair since I just outed my entire family. So here it goes, and if you still like me after this, then maybe it's because you're crazy too.<br /><br />I put peanut butter on the floor to prove a point, talk to myself (It's not always what I say, but how I say it), I play along with other crazies delusions...and stuffed animals, I really do think dolls talk and move when I'm not in the room (I spend my spare time trying to convince them that the jig is up and they should talk to me. I promise I won't tell anyone. Yeah, Toy Story was a trip.), I shout violent things at the television when there is a fight or a football game (Get him! Kill him! Kick him in the shins! Knock him unconscious! Break his arm!), I will do anything to get out of going out with another couple (I'm super antisocial), I often check how long my tongue is (can it touch my nose today?), I answer people without realizing it and most of the time it's the wrong answer, I like to read books upside down, I think that Listerine cures almost everything and if it doesn't crackers will, and the number one crazy thing about me is... there is always a part of me that thinks no one else really exists, you are all a figment of my imagination. Sometimes I don't even exist. I don't connect with my body. I am just an observer. Even my past is just a memory put in me, not something I lived.<br /><br />So, yes, I am glad I come from a Family Nut Tree. It makes me feel better about how strange I am. It also lets me know who feels close enough to let me in on their little secret. Maybe all of you "figments of my imagination" really are all nuts too. I just haven't gotten to that revelation in my delusion yet.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1250551466658033646.post-29379340331732787532008-11-23T16:58:00.000-08:002008-11-23T20:50:10.310-08:00Sunday's GratitudeToday, I am thankful for a certain broken television.<br /><br />It gave it's life that I might have faith.<br /><br />So, here's the story:<br /><br />One day, when I was a teenager, I was talking to my friend. She was talking about her family life and how hard it was to always be good. So, just off the top of my head I suggested that she try to watch less TV and see if it makes a difference. It evolved until together we decided that we both would not watch TV for a week.<br /><br />I went home that night and prayed for help in my effort. The exact phrase I used was "...help me to not watch TV..."<br /><br />So the next day I went to school which obviously presented no temptation. When I got home, I went to my room, flipped on the television and started on my math homework. I had completely forgotten.<br /><br />It was a couple minutes later that I looked up from my books. The sound was on, but the screen was black. I was totally confused and started to play around with it, but no matter what I did, the screen was completely black, with the sound on.<br /><br />The words of my prayer came to my mind, "...help me to not <strong>watch</strong> TV..."<br /><br />My prayer was answered, very specifically, I might add. Heavenly Father broke my TV. It never did get better. (No, it wasn't just the tint, color, or brightness settings messed up.)<br /><br />Through this broken television, I knew that my Father in Heaven listened to my prayers and was willing to help me. It gave me the faith to know that no matter what I asked, he would answer.<br /><br />It also demonstrated to me that I needed to be more specific on what I ask for. I now include an idealized plan of attack for whatever I pray for and I detail the things I don't want to happen in order to get what I'm asking for. (example: no breaking things, people dying, etc.)<br /><br />So, yes, I am grateful for a broken television. It was way more valuable to me broken than working anyway.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1250551466658033646.post-31805214416431181452008-11-22T16:21:00.000-08:002008-11-22T17:03:44.983-08:00Saturday's GratitudeToday, I am grateful for all those little challenges your church leaders give you.<br /><br />I think it was a couple years ago that President <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Hinckley</span> gave us the challenge of reading The Book of Mormon by the end of the year. I'm a slow reader and really have a hard time understanding the scriptures. I read the challenge in the Ensign, but I quickly ignored it thinking no one else would pay attention to it either. Apparently I was wrong. Within a month the whole church was buzzing about it and I was a month behind. I did it...barely.<br /><br />About a month ago I was given a challenge by my Young Women President, passed on from the Stake Presidency, which was given the challenge by the General young Women's presidency. The challenge was this: Read The Book of Mormon with the Young Women in mind for at least 5 minutes each day, Pray each day, and Smile.<br /><br />So each night I postpone my reading. I don't know why I do this, but I do and so I usually end up doing it pretty late when I'm getting tired. It sounds awful, but it isn't. I have never felt like I've gotten so much out of the scriptures. It's quiet and I don't get distracted once I start.<br /><br />I think the key to my success is that they gave us one of those free Book of Mormon's (They scrap booked a cute cover) and told us to mark it up. I have. I know it isn't a coloring book, and I don't have a pattern to why I mark them the colors I do, but it makes me pay better attention to mark words that stick out and to write what I'm thinking it means in the margins. I would never do this with my nice scriptures, but I feel good about doing it with these.<br /><br />Last night I felt icky so I decided to lay down for a couple minutes. I fell asleep and woke up around 1:30 or 2:00 in the morning, realizing I hadn't done my reading. So I got up did some other things I needed to do (put Peter's lunch together, he had overtime), and then said my prayers and began reading.<br /><br />If it hadn't been for this challenge given by my leaders, I wouldn't have done it. My excuse is there's always tomorrow.<br /><br />What's the difference if it is today or tomorrow? Let me tell you. It is the <em>obedience</em> that makes the difference. It is them giving you a challenge, you following it, then you being tested on that challenge (The temptation to skip one night...after all, you have a good excuse). The blessings come when you prove faithful to that challenge. When you let the Lord know you take it seriously, that is when His Spirit can be felt more strongly and your understanding is quickened.<br /><br />So, even though I might want to groan when I'm given those challenges that add another thing to my to do list, I am grateful for those challenges and the opportunity it gives me to prove myself to Him and to myself.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1250551466658033646.post-45692713825651594732008-11-21T21:17:00.000-08:002008-11-21T21:45:59.456-08:00Friday's GratitudeI am so grateful for my old dirty tennis shoes.<br /><br />When I got them they were a pretty white with a little bit of light blue trim. They were sturdy and advertised as running shoes. They were perfect!<br /><br />Today they more brownish gray and some of the pretty blue trim is a dingy blue and threatening to come off. The heel inside is worn, and the fabric around the ankle is not only worn, but torn. The laces are tattered and dirty. The label on the tongue is worn enough so the size is unidentifiable. Permanent wrinkles embedded with dirt line the toe and sides. The tread is worn down so that I slide easily across surfaces and, like the trimming, it also threatens to come off.<br /><br />If you showed me a before and after picture, I wouldn't believe you.<br /><br />So, why do I love them so much? Nice and broken in, they mold nicely to my feet. They are comfortable and I know that what ever the task, unless it's fashion, they are up to it. With them I've hiked with the girls at girls camp, played volleyball, sat around the house and watched TV, mowed the lawn, gone on major shopping trips, and just about everything else you can think of.<br /><br />I know these old tennis shoes were advertised as running shoes, but they are so much more to me. They are my comfort and reliability. I've grown accustomed to their hideousness, their leaks in puddles, and their tendency to make my feet sweat if I keep them on all day.<br /><br />Yep, I am grateful for my old dirty tennis shoes and dread the day I have to give them up for something unfamiliar, rigidly unbroken, and too white to risk dirtying up doing normal everyday things.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1250551466658033646.post-61707482189188832022008-11-20T17:46:00.000-08:002008-11-21T09:42:22.346-08:00Thursday's Gratitude...and CountingToday, I am thankful for car accidents.<br /><br />No, I'm not trying to be insensitive, and I hope I'm never in one, but I am grateful for them and have a lot of respect for how easily and fast they can turn peoples life around for good or unfortunately sometimes bad.<br /><br />About an hour or so ago, I got a call from my dad. First thing he says is, "David is okay, but..." So right off, I know something isn't okay. David is my youngest brother and he is serving a mission in Texas. He is <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">everybody's</span> favorite just because he is so easy going. He took all the good character traits from his siblings and none of the bad.<br /><br />So anyway, I don't know all the details, but it seems David and his mission companion were in a car accident, or I guess I should say truck accident. His companion was driving apparently and they rolled over a couple times (or so it sounds).<br /><br />He was taken to the hospital and I guess his legs hurt, but he is alive and trying to walk around.<br /><br />Car accidents are a reminder how precious life is. They can be accompanied by miracles and/or disasters. Sometimes it is both.<br /><br />When my brother and his wife died, it was like that. It was tragic and it hurt me so bad. Then again, it was a miracle they both died together and none of their young children were with them. I mean, how often do couples with young children go places together without their kids. They had an amazing few days together, celebrating their anniversary and driving past the site of their first kiss, and I know they were happy.<br /><br />Anyway, I don't take car accidents lightly, but I am thankful for them and how thought provoking they are. They make you think about how precious life is which I think a lot of us forget. (Some people drive like they're invincible.) On the obvious side, I am so grateful that David is okay and hope and pray he heals fast.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1250551466658033646.post-4312036134796293582008-11-19T20:46:00.000-08:002008-11-20T01:22:53.343-08:00Wednesday's GratitudeI am grateful for the monster headache and nauseous feeling I have right now.<br /><br />My last 24+ hours have been spent making two checkered cakes and a whole bunch of Oreo truffles for our Young Women's in Excellence tonight. We had a Black and White theme. I messed up the middle layer of one cake, but I pieced it together anyway. As I frosted the cake, it got all crumbly and spotted my nice white frosting. I used <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Oreos</span></span></span> chunks to hide it.<br /><br />So, why do I have a headache? Because running around like a chicken with it's head cut off makes it hard to eat anything good for you. All I have had is the part of the cakes that I leveled off.<br /><br />No Breakfast + No Lunch + Cake - Dinner= Monster Headache + Nausea<br /><br />I'm grateful that I have nausea and a headache because it means my body is strong willed and won't put up with my abuse. If I am not eating right, it lets me know and believe me, this feeling can not be ignored.<br /><br />It's nice to know my body resorts to violence when it doesn't get it's way... just like me!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1250551466658033646.post-78073624056304938332008-11-18T16:37:00.000-08:002008-11-18T22:06:49.236-08:00Second Tribute to GratitudeI am thankful for the scar on my chin.<br /><br />When I was little, my parents went on a date and left my second oldest brother, Jason, in charge. (Apparently the oldest wasn't responsible enough.) They left one specific instruction: "No playing tag in the house."<br /><br />So what did we do? That's right, we played "Hide and Go Seek Tag" in the house...in the dark. Jason was "it" and I thought I had a good hiding spot in the basement, but he saw me so I bolted for the stairs. They are wooden stairs which makes them not just hard, but slick. I could feel him on my heels and was afraid he would swipe at me at any moment. Almost to the top, I slipped and landed hard on my chin. I remember crying and Jason cleaning my wound in the bathroom. He wouldn't let me see it in the mirror, so I knew it was bad.<br /><br />I cried myself to sleep waiting for my parents to get home. When they did, they took me to the hospital for stitches. I remember being shoeless and telling my dad that I had forgotten my jellies (shoes) and they wouldn't let me in. He laughed and told me they wouldn't even notice.<br /><br />I got stitches and it actually tickled.<br /><br />I don't remember my parents saying one thing about us disobeying them, but did they really need to? No, the scar on my chin is a reminder that sometimes someone knows better than I do.<br /><br />Luckily the scar is on the bottom of my chin and people barely notice it. I actually like it now. It's my war wound. It's my reminder that if I choose to do wrong, there may be consequences that last a lifetime. So, yes, I am grateful for that inch long scar on my chin.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1250551466658033646.post-67851821982427524802008-11-17T19:36:00.000-08:002008-11-17T21:45:26.254-08:00Thanksgiving in ReviewMy mother-in-law had a great post on what she is grateful for. I am inspired and hope to share one thing or experience each day, until Thanksgiving, that I am truly grateful for.<br /><br />I am grateful for so many things. All the obvious things, the gospel, family, roof over my head, but I really want to express my gratitude for the not so obvious.<br /><br /><strong>Tribute to Gratitude #1</strong><br /><br />I am grateful for the time in middle school that I got a really bad case of tonsillitis.<br /><br />It was awful at the time. I couldn't swallow anything. I really do mean anything. I had a cup next to my bed that I spit in because I couldn't even swallow my own spit without crying. It was the only time in my life that I really thought I just wanted to die. I spent day after day for a week, just lying in bed in pain while I starved myself. I became dehydrated and weak. On the rare occasions that I forced myself to drink some water, the pain was unimaginable.<br /><br />It was a Friday when I had finally been able to swallow things without it hurting so bad. It still hurt, but I was getting better. I was home alone with my oldest brother while everyone else was at school.<br /><br />Let me just explain, that my oldest brother used to chase me with black widow spiders. We had a few years age gap, and I didn't like him. I thought he was a bully.<br /><br />So that Friday, I realized how starved and weak I was. I needed food, but I had no strength to make anything myself. It was that day that my brother did something so simple, but it changed our relationship forever.<br /><br />He took me to McDonald's. He had never taken me in his car anywhere. He didn't really even talk to me much, let alone buy me anything. But he did that day. He bought me my usual at the time, a strawberry shake, fries, and a cheeseburger.<br /><br />That was the day that I learned to love my brother. I found out how compassionate and fun he really was.<br /><br />Not long after, he went on a mission and I missed him terribly. A little over a year ago he and his wife died in a car accident. I hate to think how I would feel if I hadn't had a good relationship with him.<br /><br />I hated being sick. I hated the pain, the starving, and spiting into a cup every thirty seconds. But I would never give up that experience. It was that experience that showed me my brother's other side. It showed me his compassion.<br /><br />Though at that time I never would have thought it would ever be possible to say this, I can now say that I am truly grateful for tonsillitis.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1250551466658033646.post-85544151526627108942008-11-13T19:21:00.000-08:002008-11-13T20:29:02.929-08:00I Want to be a Senior Citizen Too!Have you noticed how good old people have it? Cheap movie tickets, discount meals, parking spots <strong>right in front of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Shopko</span></strong>, not to mention Social Security benefits and free health care. Another year older, but not old enough.<br /><br />Proposition 8? HA! I say that the gay rights activists are fighting to change the definition of the wrong word. Change the meaning of Senior Citizen! They have way better benefits than plain old married people. Yeah, let's change the age to 26, in a year, you can change it to 27.<br /><br />I know, I don't see it happening either, but when the new proposition fails, I can't wait to see their protests against the senior citizens. I don't see the elderly taking it lying down.<br /><br />Watch out for canes (or as I like to call them, camouflaged beating sticks) and elderly drivers (They drive that way on purpose. They learned it from the Japanese. It's their kamikaze). Graffiti their fence, and you'll end up whitewashing it while they shake their fists and recount stories of the good old days.<br /><br />Remember World War II? Of course you don't... yet.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1250551466658033646.post-15439367089706545152008-11-06T01:00:00.000-08:002008-11-06T12:54:03.491-08:00The Sanctity of the Peanut Butter Cup<div align="left">Okay, I have no idea if this even makes sense to anyone but me, but I wrote this anyway because I'm weird and I'm just putting off scripture study. </div><div align="left"><br /><strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">The</span> <span style="color:#ff9900;">Sanctity</span> <span style="color:#ffff33;">of</span> <span style="color:#33cc00;">the</span> <span style="color:#6666cc;"><span style="color:#000099;">Peanut</span> </span><span style="color:#6633ff;">Butter</span> <span style="color:#cc33cc;">Cup</span><br /></strong>There once was a Chocolate. Chocolate met a Peanut Butter. As everyone knows, every Peanut Butter loves Chocolate. They fell in love in Hershey, Pennsylvania when Peanut Butter hugged Chocolate. Chocolate melted and soon Peanut Butter had Chocolate wrapped around her little Peanut Butter self. They became one and together they were pronounced Chocolate and Peanut Butter. This union of Chocolate and Peanut Butter, they called a Peanut Butter Cup. Together they made something good, something they could not make on their own.<br />One day a different Chocolate fell in love with another Chocolate. They wanted what the first Chocolate and Peanut Butter had. Chocolate and Chocolate wanted a union together and they wanted to call it the same thing. They wanted to call it a Peanut Butter Cup.<br />We tried to tell them that Chocolate and Chocolate don't make Peanut Butter Cups, but they cried discrimination. How can it be discrimination if they still had every right to get with a Peanut Butter and have a Peanut Butter Cup just like everyone else had a right to? They set out to try and make laws that would change the meaning of the word Peanut Butter Cup, instead of coming up with their own word.<br />The land was fraught with two Chocolates and two Peanut Butters that wanted a Peanut Butter Cup, they just didn't want half of the formula of a Peanut Butter Cup. They wanted to just be two of the same ingredients, which actually just makes them blobs of one ingredient, unless they have cool styling skills and can make Chocolate sculptures out of themselves.<br />When Chocolate and Peanut Butter listened to their friends cries, they wavered out of sympathy. Chocolate and Peanut Butter still loved the Chocolates that wanted to be with Chocolates, and they loved the Peanut Butters that wanted to be with Peanut Butters. They didn't want them to be unhappy or to feel cheated, but as Chocolate and Peanut Butter thought about their little Peanut Butter Cup, they knew it was still not the same thing.<br />To call two Chocolates a Peanut Butter Cup or even to call two Peanut Butters a Peanut Butter Cup would change the definition of what they had together. Peanut Butter Cup would no longer mean Peanut Butter hugged in Chocolate and even the flavor would not be even close. They had to stand up against their friends and let them know they were wrong and that what they had was not a Peanut Butter Cup even if other Chocolates and Peanut Butters would be mad at them and key their wrappers for encouraging others to help them keep their Peanut Butter Cup's integrity.<br />Peanut Butter and Chocolate got a law passed to define Peanut Butter Cup as a union between Chocolate and Peanut Butter, but it's not going to be over. There are still going to be Chocolates and Peanut Butters that will never understand and will fight to change the meaning of Peanut Butter Cup. </div><div align="left">All who have a Peanut Butter Cup or who will ever want a Peanut Butter Cup, and all those who understand the reasons we have a definition for Peanut Butter Cups will need to forever stand up and fight for the sanctity of the Peanut Butter Cup! </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1250551466658033646.post-59363371924169372502008-10-20T19:20:00.000-07:002008-10-21T00:24:38.291-07:00Peter "Makes" DinnerYeah, tonight while Amber had chicken cordon <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">bleu</span></span></span></span>, this is what happened at my house.<br />At about 5:<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">00</span></span> I tell Peter that Grandpa is going to my parents for dinner. I was about to ask him for dinner suggestions, when he said he wanted to use the hamburger patties in the freezer.<br />I say, "Great, I'll leave dinner up to you."<br />He says, "That's fine." Then he asks if we have cheese.<br />"No. And we don't have buns either, but dinner is up to you and I know you can do it."<br />Then he asks, "Do we at least have nacho cheese?" <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Hmm</span></span></span></span> this sounds interesting. I check and tell him we do.<br />He agrees to make dinner and I go back to reading my latest book. I try to give him time. I waited till a little after 7:00 and still heard no signs of life, let alone dinner.<br />Finally he comes into our room where I'm reading my book.<br />I ask him, "How's dinner coming?"<br />"I don't know what to make."<br />I take a deep breath, trying to forget how I hadn't eaten since ten this morning. "You said you wanted hamburger patties."<br />"Yeah, but we don't have buns." He says this like I hadn't already pointed it out.<br />"Well, see if there is any French onion soup you can cook them with. You don't need buns for that."<br />He leaves for about ten minutes then comes back.<br />"Did you find the Onion Soup?"<br />He replies, "No. I don't know what it looks like."<br />Then I say, "It comes in a can."<br />He kind of grumbles. Then I say,"If you don't find that then get some cream of mushroom soup to cook the hamburgers with and we'll use the rest of the rice from last night."<br />Then, in a desperate voice, "Let's just go to Sonic."<br />I tell him how that is not cost effective and that he can make dinner, I trust him.<br />"But I'm so hungry now." Again, he's desperate.<br />I take a deep breath trying to not tell him what I'm thinking which is, <em>"Well so am I and if you started it two hours ago when you said you would, we wouldn't have this problem</em>" Again, I didn't say it. Instead I said, "I think there is some Pizza in the freezer."<br />He gives a victory smile and I hear him go to the freezer in the garage. At least he's making it, right?<br />So then about fifteen minutes later I come out to see if it's ready. The oven is preheated, the pizza out of the box, but he is just staring at the pizza as if it is some foreign object.<br />"Why isn't the pizza in the oven?"<br />"I don't know where the pan to put it on is."<br />I ask, "Did you read the directions? You put it directly into the oven."<br />Finally I give up. I take the wrapper off the pizza and put it in the oven, but he is still in charge. Normally, I set the timer on the oven, but he sets a timer on his watch. I go back to my book. I come out one time to ask him how long it had been in there. It had been twelve minutes and it needed to be in there for twenty. I go back to my book, wondering, "<em>Would he dare not tell me that it's ready? Would he eat it by himself?" </em><br />So I think he probably will just eat first and then tell me it's ready, 'cause he is so hungry. I waited for a long time. Finally when I finish a chapter, I go and ask, "Is the pizza ready?"<br />Peter looks at his watch, "Oh shoot, it's been thirty minutes."<br />So, I run to the oven and take it out while he hovers over me.<br />I slice the pizza and get out the plates, and after it cooled a little, we ate it and it wasn't really burned.<br />So here's the kicker. I finish the last page of my book, and Peter comes in to watch <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Heros</span></span></span></span>.<br />I say, somewhat mindlessly, "Thanks for making dinner."<br />"You're welcome."<br />And then it hits me, I made dinner. I thought of pizza, I unwrapped the pizza, I put the pizza in the oven, I took it out, and I sliced it.<br />Is it just me, or do guys like to take credit for things they don't do? However, in talking to him, I realize he honestly does think he made dinner.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1250551466658033646.post-63062558360315667642008-10-17T15:47:00.000-07:002008-10-17T16:22:43.158-07:00An Author By Any Other Name...Call her Janette <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Rallison</span>, call her Sierra St. James, call her whatever you want, I still think she's hilarious. Under the name Sierra St. James, she wrote one of my favorite books, <em>Masquerade</em>.<br />It's considered an adult book, in a good way ;-) She's <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">LDS</span>.<br /><br />Under the name Janette <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Rallison</span>, she wrote the teenage chick flick <em>How to Take the Ex Out of Ex-Boyfriend.</em> Yes, I actually read it even though it it is obviously written for teenagers, or perhaps more embarrassingly, written for middle <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">schoolers</span>. I could say I read it because I was trying to find good books for my Beehives, but I won't lie, I read it for me and I loved it. The author has a sense of humor that just speaks to me and though it might make me immature, I still think she is hilarious.<br /><p>It feels like I'm reading the Disney channel, but I love the Disney Channel. </p><p>So if you are ever sick of reading <em>Pride and Prejudice</em> or some other sophisticated piece of literature and you just want to have a good laugh, then totally check out her books. They are definitely for girls, love and all that junk, but sometimes it's nice to read something that doesn't make you think too much. (I get really bored with all the stupid descriptions of settings and situations in so many books.) </p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1250551466658033646.post-76185534252144460782008-10-09T20:26:00.001-07:002008-10-09T20:26:50.583-07:00Twilight<object classid='clsid:d27cdb6e-ae6d-11cf-96b8-444553540000' codebase='http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=8,0,0,0' width='385' height='500' id='Twilight Widget' align='middle' flashVars=''> <param name='allowScriptAccess' value='sameDomain' /> <param name='flashVars' value='' /> <param name='allowFullScreen' value='false' /> <param name='movie' value='http://twilightthemovie.com/ecard_widget/twilight_widget.swf' /><param name='quality' value='high' /><param name='bgcolor' value='#000000' /> <embed src='http://twilightthemovie.com/ecard_widget/twilight_widget.swf' quality='high' bgcolor='#000000' width='385' height='500' name='Twilight Widget' align='middle' allowScriptAccess='sameDomain' allowFullScreen='false' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' pluginspage='http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer' > </embed> </object><img style="visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;" border=0 width=0 height=0 src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bHQ9MTIyMzYwOTAzNTM3MSZwdD*xMjIzNjA5MjAwOTI5JnA9OTE4NDEmZD*mbj1ibG9nZ2VyJmc9MiZ*PSZvPTAyNWQ3Nzg5ZjJjZjRlZjJiOGIyOWQ4MGFjYjBmOGUy.gif" />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0