Good Frau

It's been a year

2012-01-06T11:29:00.000-08:00

2011 was one for the books, for sure. A big year for our family.

It was one year ago today that we learned that Daniel probably had dwarfism. I was 19-weeks pregnant and we were all excited to learn if the baby was a boy or a girl. We brought Charlie with us to the appointment so we could all find out together. I'll never forget how he sweetly asked, "Is it a brother?" as soon as we got a peek at the baby.

It actually feels like much longer than one year ago, even though it's still pretty fresh in my mind. On the screen I could see numbers like "15" and "14," but until the ultrasound was over, I didn't realize that there was cause for concern. We should have been expecting those numbers to say "19," indicating normal growth.

It was the next day that our maternal-fetal specialists confirmed the dwarfism and suggested it might be a lethal condition. I remember feeling like I was the only mother who had ever learned, mid-pregnancy, that her baby was probably going to die, but that he would be fine as long as I was pregnant. How was I going to do it?

But I did it. It has been almost 8 months now since Daniel was born. It was a monumental year. The birth and death of our baby. Our 10th wedding anniversary. My 30th birthday.

I am not usually sentimental about a new year, but I was this year. On one hand, I was anxious to start a new, hopefully easier year. On the other, I was hesitant to let this one come to a close. It was Daniel's year, and starting a new year kind of felt like closing another chapter.

But I do feel like I have a fresh start with this new year. I feel like it's a whole new decade for me. My thirties, and double-digits in my years of marriage, and a new year on the calendar that hopefully will have less sorrow associated with it.

But I am thankful for 2011. It has changed me in good ways. And the truth is, if I had to choose between being Daniel's mother this way or not at all, I would choose this. I am thankful for him and how his life has changed mine.

It was a year ago today that I came home from that ultrasound appointment and found myself standing alone in my kitchen, looking around my house. I remember how even though I was in such a familiar place, everything looked and felt unfamiliar. Everything had changed. And not just for that day, but forever. Whatever the outcome, we would never be the same.

Mario cake

2011-11-26T16:18:00.001-08:00

My sister-in-law made this awesome Mario cake for my little boy's birthday party. Isn't she awesome?

The castle was made from rice crispy treats, then frosted with black frosting, and then the fondant was added around it. It was perfect! And he loved it.

What I feel like talking about today.

2011-10-23T18:46:00.000-07:00

Today, I cut my own bangs.

I always wear my glasses, but I'm planning to get Lasik soon, so I thought I'd take a picture both ways.

I watched a bunch of Youtube videos before I did it, to learn how to do it right, and I'm really happy with how it turned out.

Life has been busy. I've spent lots of time with my friends lately, and that has been really good for me. I spent a whole weekend with my roommates from my freshman year in college. It was so fun, and a very uplifting time. I love those girls so much.

Last week I also went out for a girls night with another group of friends, and had THE most wonderful time with them. We ate at the Blue Lemon in Salt Lake, and it was delicious. Like, really delicious. I would like to go there every day. And I couldn't ask for better company. I love having friends that I can just sit back and relax with. There's no catching up to do because we keep in touch frequently, so it was just a fun night out. Girl talk, laughter, etc. Besides that we almost got trapped in the parking garage, it was a perfect night. And to make it even better, one of them (a friend I grew up with) spent the night at my house and we stayed up until 3 a.m. We talked about Daniel and looked at pictures, and just enjoyed spending time together.

Friends are really important, don't you think? I feel really blessed to know all of these wonderful women.

On Friday, I had two more friends over just for an afternoon get together. They both grew up in my home ward and one of them has been my friend longer than I can remember. We were born within a couple months of each other on the same street. We grew up going to church together, going to school together, selling door-to-door tap dances together, etc. She's probably been my friend longer than anyone in the world, and it was so fun to catch up and meet her little girl.

Speaking of friends, I think this housing market is actually really good for friendships. I love my neighbors and have made lots of good friends here. And part of that is because no one is moving right now because of the market. But it has given us time to really get to know and love each other, and I think that's actually pretty awesome.

This is how I'm kind of like Oprah

2011-08-19T14:35:00.000-07:00

I got 9 comments on my giveaway offer of this album, and since that's not a lot, I'm just going to send it to all of you!

YOU! AND YOU! AND YOU! (If you left a comment on my last entry.)

And if you didn't, that's too bad for you.

I really just want to spread the Mat Kearney love. So, if you get it and you don't like it as much as I do, don't tell me. That would ruin my fun.

I have most of your e-mail addresses, but if I don't, I will be hunting you down to deliver your awesome prize. I hope you like it!

On a lighter note - FREE Mat Kearney album for winner

2011-08-14T17:39:00.000-07:00

Everyone should have this album.

It just came out a couple weeks ago, and I am obsessed. Dave has been a fan for a while (and I've been a more casual fan), so he bought this the day it came out. He was playing it in our room while we were folding laundry, and I was instantly hooked. He has a unique and very appealing style. I was surprised when he started rapping (he calls it "spoken word," apparently), but as soon as I just got over that I don't usually listen to "rap," I was all on board.

The songs are catchy, but meaningful. And I love the rhythms. I'm a sucker for a good, organic beat. This is full of that kind of sound and I absolutely love it. He's kind of progressive folk rock mixed with hip hop, and I can't get enough of it. Seriously... it hurts my feelings to ever have to turn it off.

This is not a giveaway blog and never will be... but I love this album so much, that I want to buy it for all of you. But then Dave would be mad, so I'll just buy it for one of you. So leave a comment if you want this album for free, and this Friday I will use Random.org to pick one of you. I will send it as a gift through Amazon's MP3 store.

Daniel's balloons

2011-08-14T17:25:00.000-07:00

(Also cross-posted. I don't know if there are many who read both of my blogs, but if so, please excuse the identical postings right now. My family blog is still the place to go for regular family stuff - I just want to be able to share what I can about Daniel with whomever wants to read.)

About two weeks before we found out about Daniel's condition, I was shopping for a Christmas present for Dave when I found some hot air balloon wall hangings that I loved. I thought they would be perfect for the baby's room. Although I thought they would be great for either a boy or a girl, I decided to hold off until we found out the gender, just because I wanted to have a plan before I started buying stuff.

We learned on January 6, 2011, that our baby boy probably had dwarfism. The next day, we learned that it looked like it might be more serious and that there was a good chance that he had a lethal form of skeletal dysplasia.

I thought about the hot air balloons again, and I decided that I wanted them. If he survived, I would love them for his room. If he didn't, I thought they would be a fitting tribute to my little boy.

A couple months later, after it had become more certain that Daniel's little body wouldn't last long in this world, I was looking for a locket that I could wear to keep a picture of my sweet boy with me always. When I found this locket with hot air balloons on it on Etsy, I stopped looking. It was perfect. I loved that it went along with the wall hangings that we already had, and it just seemed so right. So I bought it.

A close friend of mine took some family photos of us a week or two before Daniel was born. We used the locket and a special blanket that my mom knitted for Daniel as special symbols of him for the photos.

When Daniel was born on May 10, he was immediately wrapped in two hospital blankets. The one on the outside had baby footprints on it. The one on the inside, the one on his skin, was covered in hot air balloons. I couldn't believe it. I felt that it was a special message to us that there really is more to this than we can see.

I assumed the hospital had many of these hot air balloon blankets, but that didn't make it less special for me. However, I was amazed to learn from one of our special nurses (she was from Angel Watch and had helped us for months in preparing for Daniel's birth, and then was present at his birth, but didn't know about the hot air balloon "theme") that McKay-Dee had only a handful of the hot air balloon blankets. They were actually from another hospital and had been mixed in, in central laundry. So the chances that he would be given a hot air balloon blanket, at least at our hospital, were actually small.

I will never see a hot air balloon for the rest of my life without thinking of my sweet angel baby.

Update

2011-08-11T15:36:00.000-07:00

Cross-posted on my family blog, because I didn't know how else to do it this time. :)

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It's about time for me to post something here. I haven't blogged for a while because I have felt like anything coming after the most recent posts needed to be thoughtful and not just an any-day kind of post. So bear with me.

I just realized that I haven't actually posted anything about Daniel's birth. I guess I wasn't up for it when it had just happened, and my brain is a little fuzzy lately, and I thought I had written something about it.

I have written about it on a secret blog that I don't plan to keep secret for very long. I have a plan, and I just need to get myself completely on board before I let everybody else in. But I will share the link soon, I hope.

We are doing pretty well. Some days are great, and then I'll have a string of really hard days. I really miss my boy. I am glad we have all the keepsakes that we do. We were able to keep his hospital blankets, and we have perfect prints of his hands and feet and molds of his right hand and his right foot. Daniel was given two little rings in the hospital that he wore while we had him, and I keep one of those on my locket with his picture inside.

In some ways I feel like I still have him. Like I have a different kind of baby. And I know that I do. It's sad that I don't get to have him here with me, but his life has had a profound impact on mine, and hopefully others' as well. And I know that I will have him again someday. I've always known it, but I have also had some special experiences to reassure me of that. Things that have verified to me that there is more to life than we can see.

Daniel's funeral was wonderful. It was a beautiful, peaceful day. My dad gave a beautiful talk. Someday I will type it up and share it (or if anyone wants a copy of the audio from the funeral, let me know and send me your address). My dad is wonderful, and I was so grateful for the words he shared that day and the love he has for me and my family. No one in this whole world has a better dad.

We were so thankful that David's maternal grandfather and grandmother were also there with us on that day. They were on a cross-country trip that they had been planning for months (years?), and they just happened to be in our area at the time of Daniel's funeral. What a real blessing! It was so wonderful to see them, and Pap Pap (Dave's grandpa) was good enough to speak at Daniel's funeral, too. He is an amazing man with the most tangible testimony of the gospel that I have ever known. He and his wife also lost a baby, and he shared some of that experience and what he learned from it.

If you know my little brother, Joel, you probably know that he is a beautiful musician. He has such a beautiful touch on the piano, so we asked him if he could prepare a hymn medley for the service. We asked him to include "Come, Come Ye Saints" and "I Know that My Redeemer Lives." It was perfect. I wish I had it on paper so I could play it every day. His beautiful, peaceful music really carried the Spirit through the meeting.

After Joel's music, Dave spoke. I shared his talk in a previous post, but it was even more amazing in person, hearing it right from his mouth. If you didn't know it already, Dave is an amazing person. I am a lucky girl to have him, and to have a husband with such a strong desire to please his Heavenly Father. There were many tender moments before Daniel's birth and during his short life when I got to see what a truly wonderful husband I have been blessed with.

This may seem an odd time for an endorsement, but I just have to say how wonderful it was to work with Myers Mortuary in Ogden, and White's Mortuary in Twin Falls. Both groups were incredibly sensitive to us. They made it as easy as possible, and they were just so caring. I actually ran into Tracy from Myers at a funeral a few weeks ago. He was the one who came to take Daniel from the hospital. When I saw him, I had such a feeling of love for him and the way he took care of us and our baby. He wouldn't have recognized me (I was probably not at my cutest on the day we met in the hospital), but when I told him who I was, he gave me a hug and we just had a little moment. I told him how much I appreciated the way he took care of us that day. It really does take a special person to be able to do what he does. And Trent at White's was just as amazing in his role.

And while I'm on the topic, I have to say how blessed we were with amazing care providers during my pregnancy and at McKay-Dee during and after Daniel's birth. I met with a couple other TD moms yesterday, and for the first time I realized that my positive experience with my care providers was not just a given. We were truly blessed with amazing people. Our doctors and their staff didn't sugarcoat anything, but they were still somehow so gentle. I never knew I could love my doctor as much as I love both of the perinatologists we worked with at McKay-Dee for those months (and one of them delivered Daniel, too). I will certainly be writing them tear-soaked thank you cards when I get my act together and write thank you cards.

It has been three months since we said goodbye to our baby. I still can't believe that we just did this. Sometimes it is like an out-of-body experience, like I am just watching it happen. Sometimes I force myself into it, to really feel everything and really focus and realize how much has changed. Our family has changed and there are some pretty major personality traits of mine that have changed. Hopefully for the better.

There is more to share, but it will have to be another day. I really just needed to break the ice again. Thanks to everyone who has been so loving and supportive to us this year. We have needed it, and we have been really thankful for it. And thank you so much for all your prayers.

Baby Daniel

2011-05-22T20:06:00.000-07:00

Our baby boy, Daniel, was born May 10. He lived for 32 minutes. We love him and miss him very much. I wanted to share his obituary and the thoughts my husband shared at his funeral.

Obituary:

May 10, 2011-May 10, 2011

Daniel David (last name), infant son of David and Emily (last name) died peacefully in his parents’ arms Tuesday, May 10, 2011, at (hospital).

We were blessed with 32 precious minutes with Daniel before he returned to his Heavenly Father. He lived long enough for us to hold him and to share his perfect, peaceful spirit. We are comforted in knowing that his stay on this earth was filled entirely with love. We know the thoughts and prayers of our loved ones have carried us through this time.

As a family, we spent the months before Daniel’s arrival making memories with him, knowing his time here would be short. We took him to our favorite places with his big brother, Charlie, who loves his baby brother so much. Charlie gave his mama’s belly lots of hugs and kisses over those few months. Charlie enjoyed singing his ABCs and his favorite Primary songs to his baby brother. Daniel’s daddy spent many hours reading and singing his favorite comforting hymns to our sweet baby boy before his birth and during his time with us.

We look forward to the day when we can hold him in our arms again when we are reunited as an eternal family. We are thankful to our Savior, Jesus Christ, for allowing us to feel of the reality and power of his plan of happiness.

Daniel is survived by his parents; his big brother; and grandparents (listed).

David's talk:

I thank my Heavenly Father for entrusting me with all the knowledge, love, understanding, comfort, and grace my heart could possibly contain in these last four months. I thank my Heavenly Father for sending us Daniel.

Exactly ten years ago from this coming Monday, I wrote in my journal about my engagement to my dear Emily. Among other things, I noted: “Grandpa (last name)’s first comment upon meeting me was, ‘So, I hear you have big ideas.’” I wrote it then because it was funny. I write it now because it was inspired, if not somewhat prophetic.

I hope that is how every marriage begins. It is how ours started. Big ideas. Shooting for the stars. Knowing we could take on the world and all it could throw at us. Firmly, yet innocently, believing that together, and with God’s help, we had what it takes to withstand anything. He wanted us to succeed. We wanted to succeed. Therefore, we knew we would succeed. Emily even wrote this to me in a letter once, “I truly believe that you and I can make anything happen together.”

On that same day pondering our engagement, I wrote: “It’s interesting to see how everything in your world changes with the decision to get married. Of course, I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

As time went on and we were blessed with parenthood, we began to wonder if we really could endure everything. Could we ever endure the loss of a child? Could we give up the aspect of this life that is most precious to us and brings us the most joy? How is it possible that parents can endure such pain and still be okay?

Now again, ten years later, we have reached a defining moment in our lives. Again, I say that everything in our world has changed. Again, I say that I wouldn’t want it any other way.

After hearing the news about this special boy, Emily remembers returning home and standing, pondering in our kitchen. Things looked different. She knew they would never be the same.

As we walked out of the hospital after the most difficult of our ultrasounds, I had an inspiring realization and testified to Emily that this is what life is about. It is hard. These are the trials and the growth that we must have to refine ourselves to become more like our Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. This is why marriage is central to the plan. Because the most difficult and painful trials come from having this type of heartache and soul searching. Those that are cheating their way through life without truly committing to spouse and family will never grow to be refined in this manner. This is our preparation for things to come.

This is why in Doctrine and Covenants, the Lord declares that the marriage covenant “was instituted for the fulness of my Glory.”

To paraphrase Elder Maxwell, long after the wars have ended and the chatter of congress has ceased, the great pyramids will have turned to sand and the everlasting family will still be standing.

The true history of mankind lies within the institution of celestial family.

This is what life, history, humanity, and divinity are about. We can do hard things. We must do hard things. This is enduring. I have often wondered what it is to truly endure to the end. Now I have an understanding.

My dear Emily. I will never view you the same way again. Everything has changed, and that includes the power, strength, luster, beauty and grace that have given rise within you. Starting on the night before our first revealing ultrasound when we were to find out if we would be blessed with a boy or a girl, when you prayed at our bedside; before we had received any news whatsoever, you wanted more than anything to pray that the ultrasound would go well, that there would be no concerns, that our little child would be completely healthy. But your mind was stayed. Even then, even before the earthly news was given, you were in tune with the will of the Lord. Again, on that next day when we were first given the hint of concern, your strength surpassed mine. You felt complete peace. You knew all would be well. As time went on, you made it clear how certainly you could feel the prayers of others carrying you on. You could feel it. I could see it. You were being lifted before my eyes.

I have always admired the words of righteous priesthood holders, advanced in age, about the divinity of their wives. I have always wondered how they could testify so convincingly of their wives’ superiority in spiritual matters and closeness to God. I have always loved the talk in which President Hinckley testified of the divine qualities of womanhood after his dear wife had passed away. I knew that they could see these things in their wives. Now I can understand, after a lifetime of such experiences as this, how that beauty and light becomes so bright. I can see it in you, Emily. As you carried Daniel’s perfect spirit, I could literally see you transforming and taking upon yourself qualities of our Heavenly Mother. As the days grew closer to his birth, there were moments that I was awed to be in your presence. On this sacred Mother’s Day, I believe I could see perfection within you if but for a moment.

Again, I have big ideas. With this experience and growth, I again believe we can make anything happen together. Together we can fulfill the promise in the Doctrine and Covenants, “and they shall pass by the angels, and the gods, which are set there, to their exaltation and glory in all things, as hath been sealed upon their heads, which glory shall be a fulness and a continuation of the seeds forever and ever.”

The blessings upon this family have been rich and bounteous.

Charlie. You have been bold, unyielding, and sure in your resolution that all is and will be well. You have helped your Mom and Dad with wisdom beyond your years. You have embraced the role of brother. You know and have testified to us of your brother’s special spirit and mission. Looking through what precious few keepsakes we have, you assured us that you could “remember Daniel before we had that.” You have testified to us of Christ’s atonement. Your pure faith echoes in my mind as you taught me to say out loud, “I’m okay, Jesus” and “I know this.”

As I admire the growth of my family, I know I have grown also. I have no ill feelings. I glory in the Lord’s mercy. My heart has become full and swells with love for my Heavenly Father and a greater sense of gratitude for the gift of His son to us. I may understand this now on a level I never previously could have comprehended.

The feelings, thoughts, and triumph of my soul are beyond the capacity of a creature of evolution or chance. I am a divine creation. We need only to look within ourselves and we will know there is a God. I have, perhaps, searched every corner of my heart and mind over the last four months. I have felt the lowest lows and the highest highs. I have felt complete agony so much that I writhed on the floor of our home racked with a greater pain and distress than I could have imagined possible. Only moments later I was convincingly stilled and infused with a peace and calm that was so majestic and noble in force that it was immovable and undeniable. I was cradled and held by a perfect love. I believe such can only be granted to a divine being. A child of God, as we all are. Those of you who know me well, know of my great love and compassion for animals. Yet I cannot believe that a simple beast or randomly evolved creature is worthy of such depth. I am a child of God. He lives and knows me. I know this now more than ever.

I know that Jesus Christ’s atoning sacrifice is real. We have felt it. This Easter season was the most memorable and meaningful of my life. We tested and proved the words of President Monson, “in our deepest sorrow, we can receive profound peace from the words of the angel that first Easter morning: ‘He is not here: for he is risen.’”

We have received that promised peace. And, as promised, Christ has sanctified to us our deepest distress. It is with joy, that we “draw water out of the wells of salvation.” We were held up when we could not walk by our own strength. We know of the reality and divinity of our Heavenly Father’s plan. We are thankful that the experience of bringing Daniel into this world is part of our mortal ministry and eternal calling. We are grateful in knowing that Daniel’s heart forever belongs to our Heavenly Father and Lord Jesus. We are grateful that he will never wander and is free from the troubles and imperfections of this world. We are grateful that he beckons us home.

We will never forget, as even the hospital staff emotionally confessed, the perfect, peaceful spirit that he shared with us. That short moment is forever imprinted on our hearts and we forever yearn to eternalize that glimpse by honoring our covenant marriage.

As I listened to the seconds ticking away in the wee hours of the morning before his birth, I remember wishing briefly that I could stop time. No more. Now when I hear a ticking clock, it is counting down the seconds till I can see him again. As Emily and I left for the hospital that sacred morning, I comforted her by promising that his life would be like a beautiful song. It was. And as we left several days later, that thought re-entered my mind. Yet this time, it was different. His song isn’t over. It goes on. And if we improve our hearing, we will still hear the notes from time to time. As my beloved mission president, D. Michael Stewart counseled, “We must improve our hearing.” I also remembered his counsel as we prepared to leave our hospital room, which had become our sanctuary. “After the wisemen met the Messiah, they went home a different way. Once you’ve met the Messiah and danced with the angels, go home a different way.”

We have danced with an angel. We have gone home a different way. Different people. Forever altered for the better. Again, I say that everything in our world has changed. Again, I say that I wouldn’t want it any other way. I am forever thankful for Heavenly Father’s steady guidance and perfect knowledge in carefully yet deliberately shaping us and molding us to become more like Him and his Son.

Several years ago, I came across the words that President Joseph F. Smilth spoke to his dear young daughter, Jody, at her funeral. They moved me so deeply that I asked Emily to type them up and print them for display in our home. As we learned more of Daniel’s special mission on this earth, the words took new meaning to me. They became as if they were my own.

“Dear Jody, my babe, I love thee. My ambition is to see thee shine pure and bright amid Earth’s noblest. I love thine innocent prattle and thy little footsteps. Thy voice is as the music of an holy angel and thy cunning little ways more pleasant and endearing than the voice of love. Thou hast made me a better man. For thy sake I love humanity, Earth and Heaven more. Thou hast drawn me nearer unto God and purified my heart. For thy sake I beseech God with greater faith and fervor on behalf of all children and my sympathy is aroused more keenly for those bereaved. Thy bright spirit lightens all my cares and makes all Earth to me seem good. Oh, my darling, how I love thee.”

And now, my love overflows as I address my own son.

Daniel, we are happy for you, son. We do rejoice in your triumph. You have inspired change. You have made us better. Our hearts ache but they are strengthened and beat more purely. Our minds grieve but they are determined and resolved as we focus more intently on attaining eternal unity. You have allowed us to feel a glimpse of what our Heavenly Father and Mother felt as they gave up their beloved Son and our Savior, Jesus Christ. You have taught us the unassailable power of sacrificing our wills only to be enveloped by pure love and sweet assurance as we accept our Heavenly Father’s. You have helped us grow first in having faith and then to tangibly feeling faith in Christ’s Atonement. As we have searched our souls, you have given us the hope of our own divinity. You have shown us so clearly that there is more. We promise to remember. We promise to do our best to see you shine again. We love you ever so dearly.

In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

The reason for my absence

2011-04-08T13:48:00.000-07:00

I didn't mean for this blog to go silent. I'm still here. It's just that... well... life has happened in the last few months.

This is my fun blog. The one where I don't post pictures of my family or keep any kind of important family record, but just a place where I can write if and when I feel like it about whatever I want to, or share things I find amusing or otherwise worth passing along. This blog isn't amazingly popular, but I have some blog friends out there!

I feel like I have to write about this before I can carry on with the fun stuff. I don't want to dwell on it on this blog, and updates are happening on my family blog, but it's a big enough deal that I feel like I can't just ignore it here.

After a couple years of trying for baby #2 with one early miscarriage last summer, we are finally expecting a baby. In fact, I'm 32 weeks along. This has been a more difficult pregnancy than my first, from the start. But as far as we knew, everything was fine -- until our big ultrasound when I was 19 weeks along.

I could tell our sonographer was concerned the entire time she was doing our ultrasound, but my untrained eye couldn't see anything wrong, except that I could see that he had a prominent forehead. At the end of the ultrasound, she put everything down and said to us, "I've got to be honest. I have some concerns." She told us that his long bones were not as long as they should be, and that she was concerned with the shape of his head. She told us it could be dwarfism.

We were surprised, but not too worried yet. My nurse got us an appointment with a maternal-fetal specialist and a genetic counselor the very next day. It was at that appointment that we learned that our baby's condition was more concerning. His chest was small, and he appeared to have a "cloverleaf" skull. I learned later that that skull shape really only goes along with a lethal condition.

They didn't say for sure that our baby wasn't going to make it. Just that they would keep an eye on him and that we might consider genetic testing.

We weren't ready to do the genetic testing yet. At that point, I didn't know how I could go through the rest of my pregnancy if the suspicion (thanatophoric dysplasia) was confirmed at that point.

So we decided to wait it out and to have faith that everything was going to be okay. Our family and friends came to our aid. At least one, sometimes both, of my parents started coming to be with us on weekends and help us carry on. Our friends have been sensitive and supportive.

Since that time, I have had several more ultrasounds, and I just had an amniocentesis last week. We don't have the results back on that. We have still never been told that our baby is going to die, but they are preparing us for it. At our last ultrasound, his heart was taking up about 70 percent of his chest (30 percent is normal), up from 50 percent the time before and about 35 percent the time before that. And his heart isn't large, it's just that his little ribs don't grow fast enough. Which likely means that his lungs aren't developing because there's so little room in his chest.

Of course there's always the possibility of a miracle. I know that we are on temple prayer rolls all over the world and that we have many, many people praying for us. I know those prayers have buoyed us up. This is something I would have thought I could never do and come out OK on the other side. Of course it's hard. Some days are harder than other days. But I'm also amazed at us. Can I say that? We are doing okay, and I am amazed by that. I know that there are some hard times ahead, even if our little guy survives. But I have already learned that I can be strong. That this is hard, but that I can do it. We can do it, and we are going to be a stronger family because of it.

My faith has been tested and strengthened, and I know that we are not alone in this. I know that we are children of God, and that this little boy will be ours forever and that we will get to be with him again someday. We have had some special experiences, and others have shared their experiences with us. Those experiences have helped us to know that we really aren't alone and that our loved ones are not really gone when they die.

Our baby boy is due at the end of May or beginning of June (depending on who you talk to), but will probably come sometime before that. We really don't know yet, but we should know better after our next big appointment.

I know this is a lot heavier than what I usually post here, but now that it's out there, maybe I can come back here more often with the other things on my mind, however trivial.

See you soon, if I feel like it. :)

I'm just a girl who cain't say no

2010-12-17T11:46:00.000-08:00

It's true. I have trouble turning anyone down. (Dave says he's the only one I can say no to.)

If you knock on my door to sell me a $100 bottle of all-purpose cleaner... well, then, you came to the right place!!

And without caller I.D. I probably would have bought at least 6 timeshares by now.

So you can imagine how hard it would be for me to turn down a telemarketer's request to send money to a cancer charity, right before Christmas. I usually don't answer the phone if it's obviously someone I don't know. But this number called and called and called. When I did finally answer they would ask for Dave, and when I told them he wasn't home, they would say "Just tell him ____ called, and I'll call back." Mmmmmkay. Finally I just wanted them off my back and I told them that this was his wife and asked if I could handle whatever they were calling about (I'm a genius for finally asking that after only a million phone calls!).

Turns out, the caller was trying to raise money for a children's cancer fund, that we have actually donated to in the past. Of course, my attitude softened at that, and even though I was SO frustrated with their tactics, I still agreed to send money. And when I told Dave about that, his head almost exploded. (He is very charitable, but he was equally as frustrated with the never-ending mystery phone calls, and would have preferred to give in another way.)

They wanted me to pay them right over the phone with a credit card. I told them I was not comfortable with that, and that I would send a check. So she stressed at least twice that I needed to send the payment as soon as I got the pledge envelope and asked me if I was really committing to it. I didn't like the high pressure, but I agreed.

Anyway, I did a little research on this fundraiser, and found reports stating that less than 1% of donations to this group actually go to cancer patients. Another article said 17%, which is better, but still not impressive.

So my point in writing this is simply to suggest that everyone look into the "charities" they are approached by before sending money. I am all for sharing with organizations that are honest and where the higher-ups have their hearts in the right place. But when so much of what you give goes to administrative costs and founders' salaries, it seems to me like they are making a business and a profit out of others' suffering, and playing on the givers' emotions and desires to really help. There are lots of organizations out there that are really doing good, so just be choosy! I know I will from now on!

If you know of any worthy charities, let me (us... anyone reading this) know in the comments.

I'm growing up

2010-08-31T16:46:00.000-07:00

In my crazy, stressful dreams when I realize I've been skipping class all semester and I'm not going to pass my class, and therefore will not graduate with my peers...

I'm finally out of high school!

I now dream about skipping college classes. This is progress.

Thank a Soldier cards

2010-07-02T23:14:00.000-07:00

You know how I always want to thank soldiers when I see them, but I don't have the guts? I have a solution.

I made "Thank a Soldier" cards. They're like pass-along cards, made to give a little thank you to service men and women when you come across them.

There's a little space in the bottom to sign your name or your family's name, or to write a very small note.

I will keep one or two in my wallet with me, so I can pass them along when the opportunity arises. (Or have my son do it.) :)

I made a sheet of 10 cards, saved as a PDF, that I would be glad to send to anyone who wants it. E-mail me at goodfrau@gmail.com if you'd like the file.

What did he give me?

2010-07-01T15:04:00.000-07:00

A couple months ago I was at the post office with my 3-year-old. Behind us in line was a soldier in uniform, and my son was very interested in him.

We were leaving the post office at the same time as this man, and he could see that my son was interested in him and his uniform. He stopped to say hi and "give me five!"

For some reason I am always too shy to thank a soldier in uniform, even though I think I should every time I see one (which happens a lot, because we live near a military base). But I didn't want to let the opportunity pass, so I asked my son to "Tell him thank you." It was my passive way to get the message to this man without having to say it directly to him myself (which I know is silly, but it's true).

When I asked my son to "tell him thank you," he looked up at me confused and said, "What did he give me?"

I almost started crying right there in the post office, as I considered the question and how I would answer it. I told him I would explain in the car (so I wouldn't cry in front of all the other post office patrons).

In my life, I have been fairly disconnected from the reality of the military and the sacrifices that people make. My father was in the Army before I was born, and I've always been proud of that. Many of my uncles have served in the military, some fighting in wars. I know those stories, but they happened a long time before I was born. So I can honestly say that my son's question, "What did he give me?" made me feel feelings of gratitude for those men and women in a way I hadn't before.

When we got to the car I told him something along the lines of, "We want to thank that man because he keeps us safe, and sometimes he's not safe while he's keeping us safe."

I thought about the courage it would take to know that someday you might have to go to a dangerous place where you might have your life on the line. I thought about wives and children, mothers and fathers who say goodbye, hoping and praying for their loved one's safe return. I've never been a part of that group, and I am so thankful for all of those people.

In defense of the Ice Cream Man

2010-06-22T09:38:00.000-07:00

One of my good friends posted on Facebook yesterday that the Ice Cream Man came through the neighborhood around 9 p.m., and wondered if other people thought that was strange.

Not me. I grew up in the town she lives in now, and I remember waiting on the curb until sundown with my neighbor friends, wishing and hoping that the ice cream man would come by so I could buy an orange push-up with the money I'd saved going door to door, selling stickers or a tap dance performance.

To me, 9 p.m. seems like a perfectly acceptable time for the Ice Cream Man to make his final round.

Of course, my son has a couple good hours left in him at 9 p.m., although I know many kids are in bed by then. But I say, if the sun is still shining, the Ice Cream Man is welcome on my street.

But my friend's friends were all quick to post that they thought it was creepy for him to be there at 9, and that being an Ice Cream Man is creepy in general.

Say what?!

My husband and I are advocates for our son's safety, to the point that some people think we are overprotective. But I'm not the least bit leery of the Ice Cream Man.

First of all, he is not sneaking up on anyone, and he is making everyone fully aware of his presence as he plays his happy tunes through the neighborhood. Secondly, he would have to be incredibly stupid to do anything bad while he's driving a giant music box with ice cream cones painted on the side.

I guess it just makes me sad that something that is meant to be fun and bring joy and fun memories is written off as "creepy." I know there are bad people in the world, and I know we have to be careful and teach our kids to be careful. But I don't want my child to internalize that people he doesn't know are suspicious or scary, and I especially don't want him to think that things that seem joyful are inherently suspicious.

So what's the balance? I'm not sure. Of course I want to keep my child safe always and teach him what he needs to know to be smart about these kinds of things. But I don't think that means that we run and hide from things and people that are unfamiliar. What do you think?

The most expensive vacation we've ever taken

2010-06-01T18:47:00.000-07:00

We took advantage of the long weekend by taking a trip to Yellowstone. We had already considered it when my sister-in-law called and invited us to spend the weekend at their aunt and uncle's cabin in Island Park. We were excited because that meant we could take our little vacation and we had free lodging.

We drove up Friday after Dave got home from work. The car got great gas mileage all weekend as we drove all around the park, stopping to see bears (10 total), a moose, lots of elk and bison and a coyote.

We only paid for one meal the entire time we were there because Dave's aunt Teresa kept us full on home-cooking.

Sounds like a pretty cheap vacation so far, right?

But on the way out of the park for the last time, I glanced down and saw that the main diamond from my wedding set was gone. All gone.

So if you ever find a princess-cut diamond in Yellowstone (maybe near Old Faithful?), CALL ME.

ETA: I forgot to mention that Dave went back into the park and searched every place we had stopped that day. He knew it was a long shot, but he couldn't leave without trying. Sweet, huh?

Patience, young grasshopper

2010-05-05T20:00:00.000-07:00

I just saw the funniest conversation on Facebook, and I need to share. The originator is my second cousin, and I'm not sure how old she is, but apparently she hasn't graduated from the sixth grade yet.

(Cousin): wants a phone soooooooo bad!!!!!!! MOM PLEASSSSSSSSSSSSSSEEEEEEEEEEEE CAN I HAVE A PHONE??!!!!

(Friend 1) girl, i didnt get mine til the day after I graduated from 6th grade..patience, young grasshopper(:

(Friend 2) I didn't get mine until the day before 8th grade. I win. Btw, the longer the wait, possibly the better phone! :)

A great cat massage tutorial!

2010-04-16T17:47:00.000-07:00

I found this (via the Glamour Shots carnival) on Keeping Up With Mom.

This is for all you cat lovers out there. Don't forget to use your right hand or your left hand or both hands.

Glamour!

2010-04-15T17:06:00.000-07:00

If you don't already know Kristina, it's about time you check out her blog. Right now she's hosting a Glamour Shots carnival, and I thought that would be a fun thing to participate in.

I don't have an official "Glamour" shot, but I do have this!

This was one of my senior pictures that all the grownups in my life loved, and I hated. It just didn't look like me to me. I would have never made that "come hither" face or posed like that, and certainly not in a hooded sweatshirt. But it was my parents' favorite, so it has been prominently displayed ever since.

However, now that I am 11 years removed from this photo shoot, I actually like this picture! Isn't that backwards? Aren't you supposed to love these when you first get them, and then be completely embarrassed by them in the years to come?

Expert advice

2010-04-03T18:18:00.000-07:00

I was thinking this morning about my blog post about chicken coops, and especially the part where I touted a belief in following my own instincts when it comes to parenting and running a household in general. I wrote about how I rarely consult the experts.

I realized that I had given myself a little (or maybe a lot) too much credit. There is one expert that I consult quite frequently.

This is my mom.

You may also call her Nurse Jacque or TechnoMom.

I rely on her a lot. She is always my first call when my son is running a fever and I need some guidance or just a little comfort.

She recognizes when I'm being silly about something and helps me be smart, without making me feel like I was being silly in the first place.

She's my official Weight Watchers buddy. (She's lost more than 35 pounds, and she's still going strong.)

She's really smart with computers and her Farkle score is unbeatable.

She's an expert seamstress and a wonderful cook.

She's genuine, and brave enough to reach out to people. She's a wonderful example of friendship and caring.

She has molded the way I feel about being a mother. She has always been a very tender mother and grandmother. She is very nurturing and empathetic.

And maybe that's the reason I don't feel the need to consult the other experts. If I can raise my children to know that they are loved and capable, the way that she and my dad did, I will be happy.

But I'm sure I'll have some more questions along the way.

Take me to your leader

2010-04-02T21:40:00.000-07:00

I bet this dog's home planet is really stinky.

"Greetings, Earthlings!" from our Boston terrier, Panda Bear

aka Snorty McSnorkleson

aka Stink Bomb

aka Alien Being

The Chicken Coop

2010-03-25T13:58:00.000-07:00

A friend of mine posted a link on Facebook to a New York Times article about the recent trend of regular households keeping backyard chickens.

I found the article fascinating enough to read the whole thing aloud to my husband. I was particularly intrigued by the idea that backyard farming hearkens back to the industriousness that brought women into the workforce so many years ago. The writer also suggests that this is not necessarily old-fashioned, but actually a progressive, modern way to live that could become more common.

Apparently it is more common in some areas than others, such as the writer's home of Berkeley, Calif. And a friend of mine in Lawrence, Kan., where I spent a few lovely years of my life, says backyard farming is the newest way to "keep up with the Joneses." A couple months ago I read an article out of Provo, Utah, where the issue of "urban chickens" was brought to the city council, who eventually decided that Provo residents were permitted to keep up to 6 chickens.

In my own neighborhood, there are at least two families keeping chickens. One is the farm that used to own all the land our houses are built on, so they have probably had chickens for years. But just yesterday, when this topic was already on my mind, I looked out my back window and discovered a yard full of chickens in my neighbor's backyard.

I'm not compelled to go out and buy chicken wire, but it definitely makes me think about running a household in general. These families have assessed their own values and situations and they have decided to keep chickens, which is still fairly unusual, at least in my neck of the woods.

But do we allow ourselves to have our own "chicken coops" in our families, in other forms? Do you run your household the same way as all your friends and neighbors, or do you assess your own individual values and give yourself permission to do things your way?

Here's my example. My little secret that's not so secret. My 3-year-old son goes to bed late and sleeps in late. This allows my husband lots of time after work to spend time with his son, and we enjoy that time as a family. I know some people think we are crazy, and when bedtime starts to creep later and later sometimes we think we are crazy. But at our house, a perfect night would be for Charlie to be asleep by 9:30 or 10:00. That leaves enough time for these night owl parents to play a board game or catch up on "The Office" on Hulu. We know some people would disagree with the way we do it, but it's what works for our family. We enjoy that we can take Charlie out to dinner with us and not have to worry about a 7:30 bedtime. And because he's our only child, we can do that because we don't have a school schedule to adhere to (yet).

Perhaps some experts would look down on that, but I wouldn't know because I don't consult them. There is definitely room for improvement in our household, but we don't seek to fit anyone else's notion of the right way to do things. I believe strongly in following your instincts as a parent, and the experts all disagree anyway. I generally don't bother consulting the experts unless my own instincts come up empty on a certain subject*.

Chicken coops and late bedtimes don't seem to have anything to do with each other. But the rise of the chicken coop has made an impression on me. Like I said, I'm not about to raise chickens myself, but it's nice to see families doing things their way, even though it might be a little counterculture.

*In the interest of full disclosure, I will say that I have read one parenting book cover to cover. The Natural Child: Parenting from the Heart . It was a little extreme at times (for instance, she suggests that cribs should be banned), but I generally agreed with the author, and it has given me more confidence in the way I do things.

Service Soapbox and a Baby Shower

2010-03-24T15:26:00.000-07:00

Several bloggers that I read have posted about a new service organization they have created. The first event will be a baby shower to supply baby items for those who need a little help.

Go here for more information. For me it will be a fun way to meet some of the gals I have been getting to know online, and obviously a good opportunity to provide some needed assistance.

I'm feeling shy, but I think I'll go.

Forever giveaway

2010-02-26T18:29:00.000-08:00

Follow Good Frau Personalized Paper Products to enter to win a free custom invitation or announcement. Each time I get 20 new followers, I will randomly choose one person to receive a free personalized design. You can choose from those posted to the site, or tell me what you have in mind, and I'll make you something fresh and brand new!

If you're chosen and you don't have anything to use it for, you can either save it for when you do, or pass it on to a friend.

Good Frau Personalized Paper Products

2010-02-24T15:43:00.000-08:00

Ever since I worked for a couple newspapers a few years ago and learned Photoshop, I have loved to create invitations and announcements for my friends. So I decided to try my hand at selling some.

I just got this shop up and running today (it's not an Etsy shop). So go take a look, and spread the word!

Good Frau Personalized Paper Products

The Little Locksmith

2010-01-09T11:52:00.000-08:00

This book was amazing. It's a memoir written by Katharine Butler Hathaway who was born in 1890 and lived in Salem, Massachusetts. She contracted spinal tuberculosis when she was 5 years old and had to be strapped to a board 24 hours a day until she was 15 to keep her spine straight so she wouldn't become what we would know as a hunchback, which is a word that is actually never used in the book, but referred to. The treatment worked and she could walk around normally, but she was still "deformed."

It's about her coming of age and her amazing acceptance of her situation and joy in life. It's very interesting because you can see her forming and changing her own opinions as she writes, and even including the thoughts and opinions that she recognizes later as being naive.

The setting for a lot of the book is Castine, Maine, where she buys a big house that no one would expect her to buy and fixes it up. But it's not much about home improvement. It's mostly about the people in her life during that time and a whole lot about the beauty she finds all around her in the world. It also has to do with her belief that because she didn't have a normal body she would never get to experience romantic love, and giving herself to her writing as a kind of substitute.

What I loved most about it was her uncrushable joy and love for life, though her circumstances were not ideal. She was intent on making her life a good one, even though her path wasn't ordinary.

I seriously could not recommend this book enough. And I found the epilogue especially amazing, so read all the way to the end if you get this one!

Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da

2010-01-06T18:06:00.000-08:00

When I was a kid, there was a neighborhood near my house where everyone would decorate their houses to the nines for Christmas. I remember driving through there oohing and ahhing every year.

This year we visited my hometown for New Year's, and on our way back home I thought it would be fun to drive through that neighborhood to see if we could catch any Christmas lights still hanging.

We turned the corner at the home of my old ballroom dance partner. He also played the violin, so occasionally I joined him on the cello for a local performance. We also enjoyed singing together, so I had happy memories in that home.

A few houses down was the house with 12 kids, 4 who were close enough to my age that I was friends with them. I didn't spend a whole lot of time at that house, but the few memories I have were good ones. I remember gathering with a big group of friends, mostly from our Madrigals group, to play night games in the big backyard.

Back to 2010, while my husband and son were scoping out the remaining Christmas decor, I was reliving little pieces of my adolescence.

A few more houses down was Dorothy's house. Dorothy was one of my favorite, formative friends. Sadly for me, I seem to have lost touch with her. I still have such happy, warm feelings for her and when I was telling Dave all about her I felt like I still saw her all the time. But somehow we haven't connected in the last few years.

So I wasn't expecting what I saw as we got closer. Where I expected to see familiar cars and glowing windows, I saw emptiness and darkness. There was a for sale sign in the yard and it looked like no one was living there.

I don't know the story. I think her dad is still working in my hometown, so they must have moved somewhere close by. They probably built their dream house in the country or something.

It's not that I would have knocked on the door if they would have been there. I just wanted to know that they were still there.

I remember sitting around the kitchen drinking hot chocolate with marshmallows. I remember laying out late at night on the trampoline. I remember teasing her little brother. I remember her giant walk-in closet filled with a wardrobe fit for an outdoorsy princess. I remember Marge (Dorothy's Mom), who was goofy and so inviting, ratting our hair and then sculpting it into beehives for a church dance. I remember talking about boys and whatever else high school girls like to talk about while her dad sat in his chair in the family room, acting as though he wasn't listening. Maybe he wasn't. I remember sitting around the piano with her family as one of them played.

In my family, no one moves. If you raise a family in a house, you stay there. My grandparents are still living in the house that my dad grew up in from the time he was born. And all of my dad's living siblings still live close by, some right in the same neighborhood, in the homes where they raised their families.

So even though I know it has no real effect on the rest of my life, I hate learning that my good friends' families have moved from the homes where my happy memories were formed. Did they even think about preserving my happy childhood?!

This goes for you too, Missy. (I think Missy reads this.) I'll forever remember "Make-out parties" where no one actually made out. And sharing one bed with Missy and Danielle during a sleepover, and waking up to a surprise that I'm not sure I can share here. We were all sworn to secrecy, but it's been at least 12 years, so maybe the embargo has been lifted. I can't contain my bursts of laughter right now as I remember that morning.

It took a lot of nerve for your parents to go and sell the place.

I'm the kind of person who doesn't let go of friendships. Once someone has meant something to me, I want to be friends forever and ever and ever and ever. And maybe I feel the same way, to a degree, about important places. Sometimes it's hard for me to accept that not everyone feels that way, especially when it means that they don't need my friendship the same way I still want theirs.

But you know what they say. Life goes on. Even mine. I still think of old friends and old places with fondness, but right now is what really matters. My old friends might not think of me every day, but I have new friends who become dearer to me every day, who enrich my life and make me feel happy. I have a wonderful, kind husband who I grow more in love with every day and who amazes me with his desire to do good in this world and be a good person. I have a miracle little boy who I thank God for every day, who makes me smile every single day and wants me to snuggle him to sleep every single night. And I have parents who I have always been close with, who still let me know every day that they love me.

So go on. Sell your houses if you must. I've got a good thing going right here, right now.

My turn-of-the-century education

2009-12-22T13:33:00.000-08:00

Do you notice how fast the world is changing?

I was thinking about my college education. I went to Ricks College from 1999-2001, so I haven't even been out of college for a full decade. But even so, I know that kids in college right now are having a much different experience than I had only a few years ago.

When I was in school, hardly anyone had a cell phone. There was no texting. If I wanted to leave a message for a cute boy, I would go to his apartment and write a note on his whiteboard. Almost every apartment had a whiteboard for this purpose. Do you think college kids have phased that practice out? It would kind of be a shame.

My classmates and I carried floppy discs with us everywhere we went. I never did my homework on the same computer twice, so I had to save everything to that precious little disc. If I would have tried to e-mail all those documents to myself, it would have shut down my Hotmail account. Anything over about 10k was a pretty massive file... back in the day.

And speaking of computers, I remember going to the library and finding that every computer in the lab was in use. I would pull up a chair and wait. At my apartment, I had an unreliable dial-up internet connection with a giant, boxy desktop computer, but if I needed to get something done between classes I was at the mercy of the computer lab and its occupants.

When it was time for the computer lab to close, the library would start playing really loud, obnoxious music to get everyone to leave.

Today my alma mater has a "laptop initiative" so that every student will have their own laptop. I'm sure it's much more convenient and I can definitely see the benefit, but does it take some of the charm out of being part of a college community? Maybe it doesn't. It's just so different than what I knew.

One thing that I hopefully helped phase out was the giant video cameras that the broadcasting students used for our school projects. I think news agencies still use large video cameras, but these things were GINORMOUS! And probably about 30 pounds, resting on your shoulder. They used VHS tapes, so I'm assuming they are mostly gone by now, but I could be way off. I did my part to help phase those out, tripping going up the stairs between the library and the MC while I was carrying one. My bad.

And you should have seen the archaic equipment we used to edit videos. It was housed in the Kirkham Building, which is long gone now (sniff, sniff), so I imagine they have upgraded to more current technology. In fact, I keep trying to find Google images of some of this stuff, but it seems to be ancient history.

When I was in school, there was no Facebook. GASP! In fact, if I wanted to flirt with someone, I had to do it in person. There was no tagging pictures. We had to actually look through each other's real-life, printed photo albums.

And I almost forgot about the excitement of taking my rolls of film to Walmart! Double prints please! Going to pick them up was such a thrill, because I didn't always know what the pictures would be (especially if I accidentally left my camera with sneaky people). No one had a digital camera yet, so we had to be careful not to waste film. And sometimes that meant one roll would have pictures from two or three months. By the time they were developed, I had mostly forgotten what they were going to be.

The thing is, we felt like we were living and learning in a technologically advanced time. And we were. But things just keep changing and it seems like time is on turbo. What will the world be like when my kids are in college?

The winner is...

2009-10-19T11:09:00.000-07:00

Thanks to everyone who participated and voted in the contest.

The votes have been tallied, and first place goes too:

MADDIE!

Congratulations, Maddie!

Here is what Maddie's Mommy said this morning in an e-mail:

Wow! What generous voters you have! Maddie is so excited and wants to put some of the money in her piggie bank. That was unprompted, she must be her father's child! I offer up toys and she asks about a savings plan!

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Honorable mentions go to Debbie, who had the second highest number of votes with her Strawberry Shortcake...

And Laura, who appealed most to our male voters.

The votes were really close! Thanks for playing!

Look at Me, I'm Sandra Dee

2009-10-16T12:29:00.000-07:00

I have a girls night tonight. A sleepover even. I'm going to a fancy cabin somewhere out of cell phone range with a bunch of women from my ward.

When I was invited, I said to my friend, "It sounds like a lot of fun but I've never left (my son) overnight before."

"None of us have," she said.

Oh yeah... This fact does not make me special. This is a first for most of us.

Anyway, I want to look cute tonight for dinner and whatever fun ensues at the cabin. (The husband of one of my friends is certain there will be lingerie and pillow fights... He'd sure like to come. He'd sure be disappointed.)

But, I swear, on the days I care the most about looking nice I end up looking like a total goof.

Take my high school reunion for instance. I carefully chose my outfit well in advance and had a mental image of how I would look. And I was hot! In my mind.

Then the night of the reunion rolled around and I put the plan into action.

And I ended up looking a lot like Nellie Oleson.

So hot.

But my dress was still cute.

Anyway, I probably shouldn't care about tonight. I know I'll have fun no matter what and nobody but I will care if my hair looks cute.

Tell me, do you spend extra time primping for a girls night? Have you ever had a big sleepover with a bunch of Mormon mommies?

I'm excited. I've had my pajamas picked out for weeks.

P.S. The votes for the coloring contest are pouring in. You have the rest of the weekend to vote for your favorite and get your friends to vote for you!

Your best work: Unveiled

2009-10-12T19:46:00.000-07:00

The time has arrived! Thanks to everyone who has participated. This was a lot of fun to see what everyone would choose.

They are posted in random order (in the order they ended up in after all the uploads), mostly because it would be too hard to try to rearrange them in Blogger. And that's fair anyway, right?

Here's how the voting will work: Leave a comment and tell me who you vote for. Vote for someone besides yourself. I will turn on comment moderation so only I will see the comments with votes in them. I was going to just post a poll, but then everyone can see how many votes everyone is getting, and I decided against that.

You don't have to have entered the contest to vote. Invite your friends to come and vote for you, if you want.

Voting closes one week from today, on Monday, Oct. 19 at 11:59 p.m. Mountain Standard time.

DRUMROLL, PLEASE!

1.

Here is a pretty little witch ~~just like~~ from Jen. Ha ha... that wasn't very nice. Jen is my old roommate from Ricks College. She and I went the rounds back in the day, but now we're long-distance e-BFFs. I'd like you to notice that this witch has a style all her own, with green and blue highlights and swirlies on her skirt. Jen says she did this at work, so she should probably get fired because it looks like it took a fair amount of time.
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Next we have my Mom's entry. I found it amusing and appropriate that she chose this one, because she's almost as forgetful as Dori. Don't worry. She'll laugh at that now and then forget about it tomorrow. Beautiful work, Mom.
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This is from my fun, pretty cousin-in-law, Melissa. Melissa is very creative and I always love her style. I love the colors she used.

Melissa's husband, Mike, is my cousin and just barely younger than me, so we were always buddies. I've only met Melissa in person before they were married (because we don't live close), but I love her and I've loved getting to know her better through our blogs. And look at that attention to detail in her page. She even colored in the white parts.

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Next, we have Maddie's entry. Maddie is Melissa's little girl, and you might notice that she's getting really close to coloring inside the lines.

Melissa sent me this note along with Maddie's entry:

"Maddie wanted to join in the fun too! She also wanted to give you a sticker, but we couldn't figure out how to get it to you. She suggested that she give it to Daddy, he put it on his finger, and take it to you. So lets just pretend that is what happened! Personally, I'm amazed that she actually used different colors on her picture and attempted to color in the images, not just scribble! Its an improvement! :)"

Thanks for the sticker, Maddie! And good luck!
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And here we have Laura. Laura is a friend from my formative years. We were two years apart in school, but we were friends with each other's brothers. And now, thanks to the World Wide Web, I feel like I know her better than I did back then. That's a good thing, but it makes me wish we would have known each other better then so we could have had sleepovers and stuff.

I must say I am quite impressed with Laura's entry. Something about this one looks 3-D to me. I found it to be quite artistic. I hope it's hanging on her fridge.
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I actually witnessed the creation of this stunning piece. I'd say it's a real eye-catcher. This comes from Diana, my neighbor/BFF/walking buddy/only person who texts me/music producer. She got this one in just under the wire. Here is what she had to say about that:

"I know it is Monday morning..... but I'm really banking on that you'll be asleep and haven't checked your email yet. Or at least that you'll allow me a late day pass. My scanner was having issues and my dog ate my homework."

For her to know I was still asleep at 8:30 this morning, she was either on her roof peeking through our one uncovered second-story window, or she has just really gotten to know me.
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Next is an entry from Dave. My husband. He would really like to save himself the $10 I plan to award to the winner. Thanks for the entry, Loverboy. Your page is not too big and it's not too tough, but with your skill and talent it's got the right stuff. GOOOO WONDERPETS! YAY!
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Hillary, my big sister who's only 8-years-older than me, got super creative. This is a photo-turned-coloring-page of her daughter, Daphne. I must say I was astounded. And I don't even know how you get the colors that saturated. I told you. I never stood a chance against her skills.
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This is where I get to brag that I have the coolest Dad in the whole wide world, because he entered my coloring contest. I hope Gaston likes his new pink tights. Very nice work, Dad.

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10.

Hannah Montana Shortcake comes courtesy of Debbie over at Cranberry Fries. She is a blog friend. I've never met her in person, but I hope I get to someday! I can tell from her blog that she is a very warm, friendly, caring person and I have enjoyed getting to know her. And she has a great sense of humor.

I'd like to point out the attention to detail. Check out those strawberries. I wouldn't have had the patience. It's quite lovely, Debbie. :)
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11.

This one comes from Laura's sister, Casey. Laura explains that Casey started this one with real intent, and then gave up when Laura's son, Carter, decided to help out with the orange guy at the top. I can see that this one had huge potential.
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12.

Carter (Laura's son) decided to get in on the contest as well! I especially like the pink clouds.
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13.

This one is serious business. It comes from Britney over at Happyful. She is a new blog friend and I love her blog. She is an excellent writer and I feel happyful when I read her blog. This one looks like it should be in a frame. Check out those waves. I'd take coloring lessons if she offered.
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This one comes from my amazingly talented Mother-in-law. Sadly, she disqualified herself because she used colored pencils before realizing that they were against the rules. But I thought it was really beautiful, so I wanted to share it anyway. It won't be among the official entries, but at least it's being shown. Thanks, Mom!
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And this one is mine. It is also not up for votes, but I still wanted to participate.

That's all! Please leave a comment with your vote and I will announce the winner in one week.

You can choose between:

Jen's Witch
Jacque Sue's Finding Nemo
Melissa's Hello Kitty
Maddie's Hello Kitty
Laura's Alien Civilization
Diana's Elmo & Pig
Dave's Wonderpets
Hillary's Portrait of Daphne
Dad's Gaston in Pink Tights
Debbie's Strawberry Shortcake
Casey's Scared Dragons & Volcanoes
Carter's Space Valley
Britney's Lilo & Stitch

Good luck to everyone, and THANK YOU so much to everyone who has participated! This has been a lot of fun.

Don't forget to vote and to invite your friends to come vote. Here's a link:

http://www.goodfrau.com/2009/10/your-best-work-unveiled.html

Also, congratulations to Laura! She wins the first $10 gift card for recruiting the most participants.

Vote for the winner in the comments. If you want to leave another comment that will show up, leave it separate from your vote. Thanks!

I concede!

2009-10-02T11:37:00.000-07:00

My parents haven't called.

My guess is they are trying to figure out how to let me down gently.

So I concede. I should have known I didn't stand a chance.

So Hillary wins round 1 and I'm starting a new coloring contest. This time I'm going to put my heart and soul into it. It will be a masterpiece.

But don't let that intimidate you. Several of you have expressed interest in participating. Now's your chance! It's the chance of a lifetime!

Round 2 of the "Little Sister Gauntlet Coloring Battle," as Hillary has named it...

Begins

NOW!

Call your friends. Anyone is invited to participate.

There are only two rules.

1 - Your coloring page has to be from a kids coloring book or a website intended for kids.

2 - You have to use crayons. Contest officials will not tolerate the use of illegal colored pencils.

E-mail your entries by Sunday, Oct. 11 to goodfrau@gmail.com .

You don't have to be a regular reader of this blog to participate, but hopefully if you are a regular reader you're already sharpening your Crayolas.

Between now and then I will figure out a voting system and the winner will be chosen by readers. Winner gets a $10 Target gift card and the person who recruits the most friends to the contest gets a $10 Target gift card, so tell me in your e-mail who recruited you. You can win both prizes, because I'm in charge and I say so. And if I win I get to go to Disneyland.

Commence coloring!

Getting catty

2009-10-01T12:14:00.000-07:00

My subconscious is on a mission to alienate me from the rest of mankind.

Three examples:

Yesterday I was playing Farkle on Facebook (because everything productive I could have been doing was done!.... er something). I used to always "sit" in the lobby and let someone choose me, because then I always got to go first, which put me at an advantage. What's the use of playing if you're not going to play to win... Am I right?! But too often that meant I was playing against men who got flirty in the chat box. And I'm taken by a man with smiley eyes. So lately I have been the one to choose someone to play against and I always choose women. Yesterday I clicked on a pretty girl about my age, and the first thing I wrote in the chat box was, "Ho." I meant to say, "Hi." I think she forgave me, until I kicked her butt in Farkle.
Today a friend posted on Facebook that she had gallstones and was going to have to have surgery. I, of course, clicked the "like" button, because gallstones are fun, right?! Thank goodness there is also an "unlike" button. I hope she will also forgive my mistake.
About 20 minutes ago, my son walked over to me and handed me a Tootsie Roll, asking me to open it for him. I did, and then out of habit I popped it right in my mouth instead of giving it back to him. He looked at me, confused about why I would do that to him. Luckily for him and for my hips (they're a little smallish... compared to a hippopotamus) we have vast amounts of candy left over from last week's Primary bribe, and I was able to supply a replacement Tootsie Roll right away.

P.S. My husband has a mission reunion tonight. Do you think I could lose 40 pounds by 6:30? Any tips?

Hillary brings out the big guns

2009-10-01T09:26:00.000-07:00

I knew my sister would take the bait when I challenged her to a coloring contest.

Here is her entry:

Princess Tiana, in crayon

Total coloring time 21 minutes.

I would like to remind you that she is 8 years older than me. Please consider this in your evaluation of our work.

Anyone is invited to weigh in on the contest, but I would like our parents to please decide which coloring page wins. Because I'm pretty sure they would pick me no matter what.

(JK. BFF.)

And, obviously, I really want to win this. But in the spirit of sportsmanship, I would like to point out Hillary's subtle and lovely use of shading on Princess Tiana's glove.

My Mr. Smiley Eyes

2009-09-29T14:44:00.000-07:00

Dave got a new driver's license yesterday.

He really hates those kind of chores, so he was not looking forward to it.

When I asked him how it went, he told me that he had to have his picture taken 3 times because the woman working the camera kept thinking his eyes were closed.

"I was like, 'This is just how my eyes are, lady!'" Dave said... to me. I know he wouldn't have actually said that to her.

I like his little smiley eyes.

One of my favorite games is to ask him to open his eyes as big as he can. I can guarantee myself a laugh as he tries his hardest to open them beyond capacity.

But if you're ever lucky enough to get a close look, you will see that his eyes are the prettiest ocean-blue you've ever seen.

I think he's really cute.

-------------------------------
In other news...

As I was coloring a blue elephant today, I was thinking about how jealous I was of my sister Hillary's coloring skills when I was a kid. She's only 8 years older than me, but her coloring skills were always highly superior to mine.

So I'd like to challenge her (and you, if you'd like to participate) to a coloring contest.

My first entry:
I know cranes aren't yellow and elephants aren't blue, but it's abstract. And it only took me, like, 15 minutes.

I like to hold babies.

2009-09-04T10:42:00.001-07:00

Dave and I were going through old stuff last night, trying to get more organized, when I came across this gem of a picture. This was taken the winter after we were married, and the baby is the daughter of one of my best childhood friends. If this picture didn't scare Dave from procreating, nothing was gonna.

I also found this picture of my closet in college. I think maybe I liked stripes and really bright colors. I try to not feel too attached to things, but somehow I lost that first stripey sweater (on the left), and that still makes me sad. It was really cute. I bet one of my roommates stole it. Someone fess up, now!

And here's a picture I didn't remember, taken by a family friend and sent to us. And now it's bound for the refrigerator door.

Love hurts

2009-08-26T10:25:00.000-07:00

Dave once spotted a snapping turtle on the side of a busy highway, preparing to cross.

Not wanting to leave the turtle in such a treacherous situation, Dave hopped out of the car to save the day. It was a big turtle, and could have probably broken Dave's foot with one snap of its jaw. Dave ended up kicking it (as gently as possible) several times, to lift it off the ground and get it to a safer place.

I bet that turtle thought Dave was a big jerk.

Mom's new motto

2009-08-10T08:51:00.000-07:00

(As Dave and I sat with my mom in her living room, my dad in the next room.)

Dad: I've been telling your mom to stop buying frozen stuff until she knows what's in the freezer.

Dave: I've been telling Emily that for months!

Me (to my mom): He doesn't know that I keep a mental tab of what's in there.

My Mom: I need a new mental tab.

*I think my siblings will especially appreciate that exchange. For me, it brings back the memory of when she went to a health food store to buy some herbs to help her memory, and when she walked through the doors she stopped and said, "What am I here for?"

Broadening our horizons

2009-08-07T13:46:00.001-07:00

Dave: Did you ever read "The Grapes of Wrath?"

Me: No.

Dave: You should.

Me: Why?

Dave: Because it's one of the great novels of our time!

Me: Have you ever read it?

Dave: I don't think so.

The Curious Case of a Good Frau

2009-08-03T08:55:00.001-07:00

Dave and I have always been a tad concerned that as we age we might look funny together. Dave is perpetually youthful-looking, while I have been sprouting gray hairs since my early teens. He is four years older, but you probably wouldn't guess that.

When I met Dave at Ricks College, I assumed he was an 18-year-old freshman. Imagine my surprise, even my glee, when I learned that he was actually a 23-year-old returned missionary (read: marriage material).

Mmmm.... He was so cute in that sweater.

But in the last few months, something curious has begun. People are starting to frequently tell me that they are surpised about my age (28) because they expect me to be quite younger.

Dave and I were discussing this the other day as I stood in front of him wearing my American Idols tour T-shirt with my hair in pigtails, wondering why in the world people think I am younger than I am.

You may remember when I was at my cousin's wedding luncheon and the woman across the table was shocked when she saw my wedding ring, because she assumed I was a teenager. And I wasn't even wearing pigtails that day.

That conversation was not good for my grown-up self esteem, because we had already been talking for several minutes when she saw my ring. So, what was it about our conversation that made her believe I was a decade younger than I am? And why, on the phone a few days ago, did the woman trying to sell me a timeshare sound relieved when she learned I was older than 20? And why did the girl selling children's books door-to-door think I looked young to have a child?

This is a new trend, and I think it must be because my hair is getting longer. But I must also have a young-sounding voice.

When telemarketers ask for "the woman of the house" when I answer the phone, I put on my sexy, low radio voice and say, "This is the woman of the house."

And they're the only ones who get to hear my sexy radio voice since I retired it in 2001. Oh, unless someone leaks the video that was taken a few days ago of me reading a newscast about the old woman who swallowed a fly.

I love...

2009-06-26T10:28:00.000-07:00

I love Sidral Mundet.

If you've never had it, you should at least give it a try. It is an apple-flavored soda and it is far and away my favorite carbonated beverage. It's not a syrupy, candy flavor. It's made with real apple juice. It's so delicious.

Albertson's and Walmart don't carry it (at least the ones in my neighborhood don't), but I think most grocery stores do. Especially the Western Family grocery stores (but this isn't a Western Family product). But it's not in the beverage aisle, it's with the Mexican foods. I don't know why it's not more popular with us gringos.

---------

P.S. My husband just sent me this:

"The drink has been renowned in Mexico for its nourishing and hydrating abilities and has sometimes been used as a home remedy for stomach aches."

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sidral_Mundet

If I was Miss America

2009-06-22T10:38:00.000-07:00

First, let me tell you a little story. When I was 17 my best friend, Jessica, and I decided that we would compete in our local Miss Magic Valley Pageant, which was part of the Miss America organization. It's likely that, had we gone through with it, one of us would have eventually become Miss America. Highly likely.

But we didn't. We had priorities, and the pageant became less important when we found out it was being held on the same day that we could move into our apartment at Ricks College. We could have participated in the pageant and then moved in the next day, but we wanted to get there early to ensure we would share a bedroom.

We had chosen to live at the Colonial House, and in our mailed information we were told that check-in was no earlier than 2 p.m. on Saturday, July 10th, 1999. (This is where Dave will wonder why I have such a good memory of some things and such a bad memory of the things he wants me to remember.) We decided we would get to Rexburg early and be ready to check in promptly at 2:00.

When we got to Rexburg, around 1:00 or so, we were surprised to find that they had already checked everyone else into our 3-bedroom apartment. This meant that there were only 2 beds left, in separate bedrooms. We asked if someone would switch rooms so we could share a bedroom. We even showed them our matching bedspreads, but no one would budge.

Brats.

So I ended up sharing a bedroom that summer with Sara from California. She was nice enough.

We gave up our chance to be beauty queens just so we could share a bedroom, and it backfired. But life went on. Sara moved out in the fall and Jessica moved in with me. Good thing, too, because later our roommates turned on us and we needed the refuge.

Anyway, if I would have gone ahead with the pageant back then, my platform would have been to support music education in schools. That's something I still think is very important.

However, if I was Miss America today I would FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT for infertility benefits.

It frustrates me that people (like myself) who struggle with infertility, even with good insurance, don't get better benefits to make treatment more possible. I suppose those who decide what benefits to offer might not view infertility as an illness that needs to be treated, but why not?

Is my body not supposed to be able to function that way? Most people's bodies reproduce. If mine doesn't, which it is supposed to, why would that not be seen as something that should be covered as well as other health problems are covered?

I was lucky that I didn't have to have very much treatment before I was pregnant with my son. But we've been trying for a while again and it's not happening, so I've been looking into our benefits. We do have some benefits, but they're not great. So if we need extensive treatment this time around, much of it could be out of pocket.

There's nothing wrong with having to save money for something that you want. But I just don't understand why infertility is not treated as the health issue that it is.

Observations from the park

2009-06-13T21:11:00.001-07:00

My Frauness

2009-06-12T14:25:00.000-07:00

I was talking to a friend a few days ago who told me that she looked up "Frau" to learn what it meant. So I thought, in case anyone else isn't familiar with the term, I would do a little explaining.

My husband is of German descent and served a 2-year mission for our church in Germany. "Frau" is the German equivalent of "Mrs." or "Woman."

When I do something particularly domestic, like cooking a good dinner or cleaning the house, Dave is very happy and usually exclaims something like, "What a Good Frau!"

(I'm serious about the exclaiming part. He's a jubilant man.)

Most of you are probably Good Fräuleins all the time, but it's a special treat at our house.

When I first started this blog, the best address I could come up with was "bloggingistrendy" which I thought was clever until about one nanosecond after I shared the address with everyone.

So then I came up with "Good Frau," because it's what my David Dearest calls me. His mother once asked me why I chose a degrading name for my blog. But she decided it wasn't degrading anymore after I told her it was her son's nickname for me.

I think it's nice.

So, since I've been itching to change my address for a long time, I decided to take the plunge and buy a domain. It's only $10/year and Blogger redirects my old address to my new one (I'm not sure changing it to another blogspot address would do that).

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My blogging friend Valentine sure knows how to cheer a girl up. It's been one of those days. I'll spare you the details, because if I shared the details they would involve a fair amount of self pity and a small amount of unspeakable things that my dog did. And I have made a personal blogging vow to not write about those kinds of unspeakable things.

Anyway.

Valentine has been good to me. This is the second time she has passed along a blogging award to me, and it's nice to feel special. :)

"These blogs are exceedingly charming. These kind bloggers aim to find and be friends. They are not interested in self-aggrandizement. Our hope is that when the ribbons of these prizes are cut, even more friendships are propagated. Please give more attention to these writers. Deliver this award to eight bloggers who must choose eight more and include this cleverly-written text into the body of their award."

I pick:

1. Rachel at "Trapped Between a Scream and a Hug."

2. Wonder Woman, who is "Taking on the World."

3. My new real-life BFF, Diana at "Worth the Waite."

4. Debbie at "Cranberry Fries."

5. Laura at "La Bella Vita."

6. Kristina at "Pulsipher Predilections." (Even though I know she won't post it. I'd still like her to know I appreciate her bloggy friendship.)

7. Jen from the Block.

And 8. One of my vintage friends, Nicke. She knew me when I was a teenager with my head in the clouds, and she still likes me.

2 Legit

2009-06-04T22:17:00.000-07:00

You can now see my blog at http://www.goodfrau.com/.

The old address will redirect to my new address, but feed reader users (like Google Reader) might need to subscribe to the new address to get updates. But I don't know. Maybe you won't.

That's all!

Play it safe. Go with the Speedo.

2009-06-01T12:27:00.001-07:00

I actually uttered the words "Play it safe. Go with the Speedo," to a family member this weekend. At a wedding celebration, even.

But we'll get back to that later.

I usually save my Weekend Update for my other blog, but this time I feel a great need to share with you how awesome my family is.

We went to my hometown of Twin Falls, Idaho, this weekend for my cousin Steven's wedding.

He's one of my favorite people, so I was pretty excited for him. And for his new frau.

They're cute, huh?

I would love to tell you that the wedding was beautiful and wonderful. I'm sure it was. I didn't actually get to be there for that part because I lost my ticket to the venue. Oh well. I was there for all the other celebrations.

I have to say it was one of the most fun wedding celebrations I have been to. They had a nice reception Friday night with lots of yummy Chinese food (and we were the recipients of lots of leftovers).

Then they were married Saturday afternoon and we all gathered for a pasta dinner at Tomatoes in Twin Falls. Delicious! I sat with my parents across the table from friends of the bride's family. After about 10 minutes I raised my hand up near my face for some reason, and the woman I was sitting across from said, after seeing my wedding ring, "Oh! You're married! I thought you were a teenager."

She said it was because I looked "so young," but I've never heard that, so I didn't believe her. I am very paranoid that for some reason our conversation led her to believe I was much less mature than my 27-year-old self.

But here's the good part.

Apparently two of my cousins made a bet. I don't know when the bet was made or any other details, but it was decided that if Steven (the groom) ever got married (I don't know why he wouldn't... he's a pretty great guy... but shy for sure), that my cousin Ryan would have to run down the street in his undies.

I first heard about the bet at Tomatoes, from Ryan's wife. I told her that I hoped he didn't get arrested. She hoped not, too. She said they were debating between tighty whities or a Speedo. I told her to play it safe, in the eyes of the law (as if I know the law) and go with the Speedo.

So at 10:15 that night, the whole family gathered at Ryan's parents' house to witness the settlement of the wager.

Ryan showed up ready to run in his white boxer briefs, white socks and sneakers, and a white headband. His extended family and his old neighbors lined the street to watch him jog behind a truck, as those in the truck shined a spotlight and took a nice video, for posterity.

I don't know if my family will ever be able to live up to the precedent that was set at this wedding.

Tell me, did anyone run down the street in their skivvies for your wedding?

Me neither.

Morning

2009-05-28T14:03:00.000-07:00

My husband would love it if I was more of a morning person.

And so would my Kindergarten teacher. My parents had to take me out of morning Kindergarten and put me in the afternoon class because mornings and I were already at odds when I was 5 years old.

And so would my 7th grade general music teacher. It was the first class of the day, and I arrived just a minute or two late at least 90 percent of the time. As the rest of the class sat silently in their riser seats, I would walk in, unpack my notebook and walk to my seat with a captive audience. I'm more embarrased about that now than I was back then.

And so would my early morning seminary teacher. Let's just say we didn't get to know each other very well.

And so would my high school zero-hour goverment teacher. I racked up enough tardies in his 7 a.m. class to spend several days in the "pass room" (in-school suspension). He had no mercy.

And so would my college French professor. My mom and I thought it would be a good idea for me to sign up for this 8:00 class my freshman year, to help me "get going" every morning. Not a good idea. He seemed to enjoy saying mean things about me in French, which he assumed I didn't understand. I wouldn't understand now, but I did then! I passed, but probably just so he wouldn't have to deal with me again.

And so would my first full-time boss. He threatened to cut my pay by 50 cents an hour if I was late even one more time. Which I wasn't. Thanks for the life lesson, Mr. Porter.

I could go on, but I think you get it. Becoming a morning person (if I choose to accept the mission), could prove to be an exceptional challenge.

P.S. This is way off topic, but I just bought my son a bunch of really cute clearance items from The Children's Place. I also used a promotional code from this website. But the reason I'm telling you this is because I need to have a baby girl. Someday, please! Boy clothes can be fun and cute, but I would really love to dress up a girl someday.

Stuck in high school

2009-05-26T08:12:00.001-07:00

I have to meet with my high school guidance counselor at noon today, to discuss if and how I am going to graduate with my class.

Apparently I've only been attending choir, orchestra and English, and I'm failing the rest of my classes. And graduation is next week.

I'm totally stressed out about it, even though it was just a dream.

I have heard that high school dreams are fairly common. I have them all the time and they are definitely my most stressful dreams. About 80 times more stressful than high school actually was.

I have always had them, but more often now that I have been helping to track down classmates for our reunion this summer. Some of these people haven't crossed my path or my mind for 10 years, so being reminded of all my classmates seems to have freshened this recurrent dream.

This was the first time I actually made an appointment with a guidance counselor to try to get it worked out (in my dream), so I'm making progress. Maybe in another 10 years I will have it all sorted out so I can stop stressing myself out in my real life.

Do you have dreams like this?

Coupons!

2009-05-19T16:27:00.000-07:00

In my last post I mentioned subscribing to the newspaper, even though I didn't want to. I'm a people-pleaser, and I couldn't say no to that nice old man at Smith's. Especially after he was so impressed that I used to write for newspapers. It seemed relevant to the conversation. I don't think I was bragging. But I could have been. It's one of only a few things about me that makes me seem smart, so it comes up... you know?

Anyway, I had to give my husband a good reason for subscribing, so I told him I would use the coupons from the Sunday paper.

I have never been coupon shopping before, but I have several friends who get really excited about it, and even post pictures of their super deals online. So I thought I would give it a try and see if I could have a similar experience.

So here's what I learned from my first coupon shopping experience:

Don't go coupon shopping on Monday afternoon. By that time most of the good stuff is cleared out and not re-stocked. And it might make you want to swear.
Don't try to converse with the checker. She can think of about a billion better places to be than behind the checkout on coupon day. Like prison.
If your toddler falls asleep in the shopping cart because your shopping trip takes most of the day, it doesn't make you a bad mom. It's even kind of cute. And it doesn't make you a bad mom. It doesn't make you a bad mom.
When you have just spent most of your day grocery shopping and cashing in on all the great deals, and you don't know what you're going to fix your family for dinner, you're doing something wrong.

So I'd like to ask all you coupon shoppers out there, is it worth it? Is all the time it takes to go through the ads and then search the shelves for the exact right item really worth it?

What did I do wrong? I haven't caught the bug just yet. I know there are websites out there that help, but is there anything that is easy to use if your life and your brain are not very organized?

2009-05-18T18:43:00.000-07:00

If I was going to finally post something new, I would tell you:

About how I invited my mother to come help me with my flowerbeds last weekend, and how I then felt bad for making a nearly 60-year-old woman work so hard.
About how my mom is really the best mom in the universe. If I would have known how much work it was going to be, I wouldn't have had the guts to invite her to help with my flowerbeds. But she did know how much work it was going to be. And she still came!
About how I'm a sucker. In the last few weeks I've: 1. Signed up for newspaper delivery (even though I knew they would just pile up, but I've got a soft spot for the plight of newspapers and for nice old men in sales). 2. Bought a $35 bottle of cleaner from a door-to-door salesman to help keep him off the streets. 3. Purchased a book to have it signed, just because the man there for the book signing looked lonely because no one would buy his book at Costco. (And don't get me started on the Fraternal Order of Police. If they can trick me into answering the phone {which they did this year}, they are going to get my money.)
About how I've lost at least 2 pounds. I know that's not a huge accomplishment, but the number is going the right way!

I now bequeath

2009-04-16T10:45:00.000-07:00

Valentine is my lovely new blogging friend. Her blog, "Letters from Valentine" is new and fun, and I've enjoyed it very much so far.

This award was given with no rules, so I decided to pass it along to three of my favorite blogging friends.

My mom always tried to teach me that there were more important things about people than a sense of humor, but it didn't stick. All three of the following ladies make me laugh and, just as importantly, they seem to get me when I'm trying to be funny, too.

First, I will introduce you to my friend Diana. She is a blogging friend and a real-life friend. I forget which came first. I met her when she and her family delivered a delicious plate of fudge to my house when I first moved to the neighborhood, but I feel like I really got to know her when I started stalking her blog. It was then that I realized that she was my kind of girl, for sure. Before I was brave enough to leave a comment, I read this post, in which Diana inflicts serious psychological harm on an Iceberg drive-thru employee. I also enjoyed her account of a friendly (or not-so-friendly) race with a fellow neighborhood runner. I was sure the dog in the story (which she pepper-sprayed) was mine, but it wasn't. Which actually wouldn't make sense anyway, since Diana has requested to borrow my dog. Anyway, she's a funny lady and I'm super lucky to live right across the street from her.

Next, I would like you to meet Julie. Julie was in my brother's high school class, so I knew her a little, but I feel like I know her better now thanks to the wonders of technology.

(I think this calls for a soundtrack. And in fact, this song applies to both of the recipients so far. I know Julie better now through blogging than I did when I used to see her at school all the time, and Diana met her one true love, the one who makes her salvivate, online.)

Now, back to Julie. She's always looking out for the rest of us. Like when she told us to say nothing about other people's baby names. Ever. This post also contains valuable advice about staying virtuous as a teenager and other "Jules" of wisdom. Ha ha ha.... I made that up myself. Oh, and here she saves you a whole $5 (or however much a magazine costs) by reviewing an issue of Cosmo and offering her own helpful tips. You know what kind of tips I'm talking about.

And last but never least, my former nemesis, Jen. Jen was my roommate at Ricks College who went from being my buddy to my enemy who kept too much water in the fridge and cut me off from her wardrobe after an especially heated argument in which I accused her of keeping too much water in the fridge. Years later we reconnected on MySpace and buried the hatchet. Now I consider her one of my favorite people and dearest friends. As long as we don't have to share a refrigerator, Jen and I should be just fine. Especially because I wouldn't even fit in her clothes anymore. And she lives about 2,000 miles away.

ANYway...

Jen has aspirations to become Dooce II, and how could I blame her? Who wouldn't love to make $40k a month from their blog? So I'm doing my part to bring Jen fame and fortune by introducing my tens of readers to her.

Jen always has great ideas for home decorating and she might be a little bit addicted to spray paint. And she likes the same TV shows that I like, which is really important.

So Diana, Julie and Jen, I hope you feel honored! :) I'm not giving you any rules. Post the award on your blog or don't. Pass it along or don't. But know that I think you're all awesome.

P.S. You might notice that today is Thursday and I'm not supposed to be online Tuesday and Thursday. But Dave didn't unplug the internet. I could pretend not to be online to save face, or I could just carry on. But my house is clean-ish and I made cookies like a good frau... so that's what matters, right? And my son is learning a lot about teamwork as he watches "Wonderpets" on my lap.

Left to my own

2009-04-02T12:05:00.000-07:00

On Tuesday night as my smart, adorable husband was on the brink of sleep, I remembered something.

"Hey hon..." I whispered. "This is a really bad time for me to mention this, but have you heard about that bad computer virus that's supposed to activate tomorrow?"

"Huh? Where did you hear about it?" he asked, sure that I had fallen for an April Fool's joke.

I told him I had heard about it on the radio and read more about it online.

"What's it supposed to do?" he asked, expecting me to have something smart to say, which I didn't. He's a database administrator, so any explanation I would have tried to give would have just sounded stupid.

So with 15 minutes remaining before the clock would turn over to April 1, I ran downstairs to find something smart to say.

Back upstairs: "It could turn our computer into a robot."

Smart, right?

Dave hadn't heard anything about it, and since I'm obviously not to be trusted handling it on my own, we decided we would unplug the internet until he could get some sleep and learn more about it, and make sure our computer was safe.

(Reading more about it today I see that there wasn't a significant risk to us, but ANYway...)

So yesterday I had a whole day with no internet. Dave was thrilled with the idea. Maybe he expected to come home to a spotless house and a wife in a red and white polka-dotted dress holding a casserole.

Disconnected from the outside world, I took the opportunity to finally take care of something that's been on my to-do list for a good 15 years. I finally learned how to play FreeCell.

(This was after a few games of Minesweeper because, as you know, "Those mines aren't going to sweep themselves.")

When I won my first FreeCell game and it asked if I wanted to play again, with big eyes I said to my computer, "Um... yeah." Because my brain really liked it.

I knew I needed to catch up on housework, but I feared the precedent it would set. I knew Dave would think all he needed to do to have a good housefrau was unplug the internet every day before work.

But I decided to be a good frau and work on the house the rest of the day. And I really did get a lot done! And I learned that maybe I really do spend too much time on the computer, because I had so much free time when it was disconnected. Imagine all the things I could do! I could bake cookies and cakes for friends like my friend Jennika! I could go jogging like my friend Diana! (Baby steps. We'll start with walking.) I could teach scrapbooking classes like my friend Crystal! (After I learn to scrapbook, which I'm not really in the mood for.)

We decided that because I am not good at moderating myself and I actually enjoy doing those domestic things that good fräuleins do, that we would disconnect the internet every Tuesday and Thursday. Except for today, of course, because we just did it yesterday and two days in a row would probably send me into shock.

And, if you were wondering, I do not know where to plug in the internet cord (am I being too technical with terms like "internet cord"?), and I don't want to learn.

You're gettin' old, Frau! Ha HA!

2009-03-28T21:35:00.000-07:00

That's what Dave said to me this morning as I medicated a lingering headache, brought on by a loud concert last night.

But am I even allowed to grow out of my teeny bopper stage before I'm fitted for support hoes and a cane?

You see, I spent Friday night in the midst of fellow David Archuleta fans at his concert in Salt Lake City. The crowd was probably 90 percent female, and 85 percent shrieking female. My ears are still ringing exactly 24 hours since the close of the show. And Dave thought I was mad at him last night because I kept yelling.

Anyone who has read my blog for a while knows that I'm a big fan, and president of the David Archuleta Fan Club for Married Girls Who are Too Old to Have a Crush but Still Might Be a Little Obsessed.

Make that "Former President." I think I've been demoted because my concert buddy sister-in-law might be a bigger fan. I know. You didn't know that was possible because you know that I chased him down last year during his hometown visit, packing my 1-year-old. But so did she. And her husband (my brother) is an honorary member of the club, since he gets juicy text messages from Brother Archuleta frequently.

Back to the concert. It was a lot of fun. David Archuleta is a great performer and seems so confident on stage now. He was full of energy and I couldn't believe he could keep singing song after song with all that bouncin' around like a Tigger (Sorry... We've been watching a lot of Tigger lately). If it were me (and it wasn't, because American Idol rejected me) I would have needed a minute to catch my breath in between songs, but we already established that I'm getting old.

It was a fun girls night! Thanks to our men for going out of their way to get us to the concert and keep the munchkins for the night.

Here we are. I'm the one with the Lisa Loeb glasses and she's the one with the Taylor Swift hair.

Maybe this is the Excedrin talking

2009-03-03T11:07:00.000-08:00

My mom was here for an overnight visit Sunday and Monday. I mentioned to her that I had found an old pin of hers that had her highest bowling score from back in the day engraved on it. For some reason it was in one of my jewelry boxes.

Her score was 187. She told me she got that score when she was on diet pills (this would have been in the 70s or 80s, I believe).

"Boy, did those things work," she said.

She told me the pills made her stronger and more focused. Basically a super-version of her regular self.

But after a while she wasn't feeling so well and she decided to stop taking the diet pills, at which point her bowling team wondered what happened to their star player.

I've already told you about my desire to lose weight, so I won't bore you with that again, except to say that the thought briefly crossed my mind that maybe I ought to give diet pills a try.

And then I remembered that I can't even take Excedrin without getting giddy and jumpy and wanting to start a ballroom dancing club. Seriously. This has happened twice.

I used to be a newspaper reporter. On two separate occasions at two different newspapers I was dealing with a migraine that I had to get rid of to keep working into the late-night hours. So both times I went to a nearby drugstore and bought Excedrin. And both times I found myself in an exceptionally good mood and hardly able to sit still. And both times I couldn't wait to get my work done so I could get started on forming my own ballroom dance club. And the second time this happened was when I made the connection:

Maybe this is the Excedrin talking.

I was a ballroom dancer before ballroom dancing was cool. (It's cool now, right?) I started when I was 11 and I was pretty serious about it throughout my teenage years. Along with my brother and my other dance partner, Martin, I would compete several times a year and perform anywhere we were invited. We competed at the national championships at BYU every year, and Martin and I even placed 4th in the waltz and quickstep at the nationals in 1995. That was my biggest dancing accomplishment, I think.

Now a decade later, some of the dancers we competed against are gracing the "Dancing with the Stars" stage. It's fun to see them doing so well and having that opportunity. They wouldn't remember us, but they were the standouts back then, so we remember them.

Our dance teacher was an awesome teacher and a shady businesswoman. My parents had finally had enough of her financial dishonesty and decided to take their business elsewhere. Which meant that if we wanted to keep taking lessons, we had to make a big drive every time.

First we went to Nancy. She was about a three-hour drive away and we saw her every couple weeks. She liked to pick on me. She once pointed out to me and the rest of the class that my legs were not very pretty. Thanks a ton, Nancy!

That didn't last long. After that my mom set up lessons with a few different teachers in the Provo area (about a 4-hour drive from home every other week). The most exciting part of that was taking private lessons from Rick Robinson, who was a legend to us. He was one of those dancers who was so captivating that even if there were 99 other dancers on the floor, you couldn't take your eyes off him. And now we were under his tutelage. He taught us the best routines we had ever danced, and they are still the routines we feel like dancing when we hear a good cha-cha beat.

I say "we" because often when my little brother, Joel, hears a good cha-cha beat he'll reach out his hand to me and indicate it's time to dance. Even if we're at the grocery store or somewhere equally as inappropriate for putting on a dance recital. And I have a feeling if I weren't so shy about it, he'd actually dance the whole routine with me, right there.

I don't remember how long the Provo lessons lasted, but it became too expensive and time-consuming to keep making the big trip. We were still performing locally, but we weren't learning anything new and we weren't competing so much anymore. I did try to start a ballroom club at my high school, but ballroom wasn't cool yet so it fizzled.

Then I went to Ricks College. I had been out of the dancing scene for a year or two, but I was excited to get back into it there. I danced on the summer team and then the fall semester started and it was time for auditions. For some reason I wasn't sure if I was actually going to try out or not, but at the last minute I threw on a skirt and headed up to the MC.

Auditions were a disaster. The whole thing lasted for about an hour, and they picked all the new members from what they saw in that short time period. I had three chances to dance, and each time they had the men choose their partners, so I had no control over who I danced with for my audition. They had about 10 couples dance at a time, for about 90 seconds at a time.

My first partner had just learned the basic cha-cha step that night, so we danced the basic cha-cha over and over and over and over. The next guy had been in a social dance class during the summer term, so he knew a little, but not a lot. And the last guy was on the team, but hadn't taken lessons. So he knew all their group routines, but none of the basics and he was trying to lead me in all kinds of crazy things I had never learned. So I never really got to show anything that I knew, and subsequently I did not make the team. As a further blow to my ego, my best friend, who had danced other types of dance all her life but who only knew the few ballroom steps that I had taught her, made the team. I was happy for her, but so sad for me. This was also the week that I didn't make it into the choir I had hoped to be in. Just an all-around bummer.

Joel and I did participate in one more competition, at Ricks, where we placed 6th or something in the novice category (is that right, Joel?). Eventually I was encouraged to try out for the "Winter" team, and so I did. This time I made it, but it was around the same time that I really got into journalism and was working for KRIC-FM. I had to leave dance practice early every time to make it to my on-air shift, so after a few weeks I decided to leave the team and focus on my radio job, which I really loved. I was top dog there, or at least I felt like it... and it was a good feeling.

After a couple more hometown performances my career in ballroom came to an end. I didn't know it then, though. I'm glad that our last performance was one of our best. Joel and I choreographed a really fun swing number for a benefit show my mom put on in our hometown. I didn't know then that it would be the last time I would perform in front of an audience, and I wish so much that I had a recording of it.

It's something I really miss. I also really miss singing with a group (and I don't mean church choir... I love participating in the church choir, but that's not what I'm talking about). I've tried off and on to rally others to participate in both ballroom clubs and singing groups, but no one is ever as excited about it as I am. Maybe someday I'll take enough Excedrin or diet pills to get something going for real.

Me = big baby

2009-03-02T15:10:00.000-08:00

I recently discovered The Creative Junkie. She makes me laugh. But today she made me cry by posting the following videos. They're not sad at all, and they're not even trying to pull at my heartstrings... are they? But seeing all these strangers sharing such a joyful moment makes me feel all kinds of tear-inducing emotions.

And the making of:

2009-02-27T12:17:00.000-08:00

I just thought to myself, "Oh fun! I could do my taxes today!"

Is it weird that I love filling out forms? I used to even think that I might enjoy a career in data entry.

But so far, this tax return is not looking so refund-y. Good thing this year is the year I'm going to get rich off of one of my good ideas. I just know it! And with all that money coming in, we won't even need a tax return.

And you know how I know this is the year? I was at Hobby Lobby yesterday (which is my favorite store in the whole wide world) picking up things for my latest awesome idea. When the guy at the checkout asked me what I was doing, I told him my plans and he said, "You have a creative mind. You should start a business."

I would have given him a $20 tip if I could have.

At the risk of you stealing my idea, and then my $$billions$$, I will share my project with you. But believe me, if I see these on Etsy I'm hunting you down!

They are mirrors for hanging on the wall, with pretty fabric around the edges. These ones are going in my living room, but I could make them in any kind of fabric for any kind of room and any kind of taste.

Seriously. Don't steal my idea. I'm not even going to tell you how to make them unless you'll hook me up with a patent attorney for my other awesome idea that I will never leak on the internet.

I'm going to post a poll on the side. Go vote.

2009-02-14T18:23:00.000-08:00

Feb. 14, 2009

In any relationship that matters, there are ups and downs. Good days and bad days. Sometimes things seem perfect, and other times you're both just trying to keep it together. But when the storms have been weathered, you both come out more convinced than ever that you belong together.

I speak, of course, of my relationship with my hairstylist.

I didn't see it coming Thursday. She had always done exactly what I wanted. But as I sat in her chair Thursday night as her next appointment waited in the wings, all I could do was give her my best fake smile and answer "yeah," when she asked "Is that what you had in mind?"

I thought I would get home, take another look and realize that it wasn't so bad. I'd be able to work with it, I knew it.

But I wanted to cry when I looked at that woman in the mirror who just couldn't be me. I knew it must have been a simple miscommunication, but how did it go this wrong?

So I discussed my options with Dave, who was grieving as much over the money I had spent as I was grieving for the loss of my pretty hair.

(If I haven't told you before, I'm just a teensy bit obsessive about my hair. Ask my mom. She was forced to perfect my ponytail with no lumps and 1/4 cup of styling gel when I was in 7th grade.)

As we saw it I had two options:

1. I could buy a box of dark brown hair dye and cover it all up. This would possibly lead to the demise of the stylist/client relationship, and possibly even the husband/wife relationship because "You paid for highlights, so you're going to have highlights." Sound reasoning, for sure.

2. I could face my desperate fear of any kind of confrontation, call her, and ask her to fix it.

Then when Dave went to another room I came up with option #3, all on my own. And I texted her. This was my slightly more comfortable, much more passive way to get to work on solving the problem. Dave thought it was totally weird of me and likened it unto breaking up with boyfriends via e-mail, which I am twice guilty of. If Facebook would have been around back then I might have just used a status update to end a relationship.

"Emily is... really sorry. It's not you, it's me. Can we still be friends?"

Anyway, my stylist and I texted back and forth for the next 18 hours or so. Talking would have been much more efficient than typing my explanations out on a cell phone, but again, talking is scary.

I was nervous it would be awkward to go back, but I was going to do what it took to keep a good thing going. I scratched several stylists off the list before I found her, so I wasn't about to give up. And I'm so glad I didn't. She fixed it, I love it, and the client/stylist relationship is in tact. Now I know we have what it takes to make this a long-term arrangement.

-------------------------------------

SPEAKING of good husbands (Everyone is speaking of good husbands today), mine is pretty rad. He spent his day perched treacherously atop a ladder, painting our living room.

As I was small-talking with a Sephora employee today, he asked if I had any plans for Valentine's Day. I told him I left my husband home to paint. He didn't think that was very romantic of me.

When I told Dave about the conversation, Dave asked, "Was he a black man?"

"Yes, how did you know?"

I must have put on my best black man voice without even knowing it.

Anyway, here is where I mention that I LOVE my Valentine, my husband of nearly 8 years. He deserves all 8 pairs of Costco dress socks I wrapped up for him, and SO much more!

Happy Valentine's Day!

2009-02-13T17:11:00.000-08:00

From Me to You!

A British Nanny has stolen his heart.

2009-02-06T12:42:00.001-08:00

I never thought it would happen to me, but my husband is in love with another woman. Her name is Mary Poppins.

I really can't blame him. I mean, she is practically perfect in every way.

His obsession is getting serious. He bought the movie soundtrack "for our son" for Christmas and now it's playing non-stop in his car. Yes, even when there's no toddler in the back seat.

A couple weeks ago, Dave took his car in for service and he realized he left the Mary Poppins soundtrack playing when he dropped the car off... by himself. I've got to wonder what they thought when they turned on the car to hear "It's a Jolly Holiday" or something equally as jovial.

But I should clarify. I don't think he's actually crushing on Mary Poppins. I think he's relating to George Banks. In fact, if anyone wants to do a production of "Mary Poppins" in northern Utah, they'd be crazy not to cast Dave as George Banks. He's got every lyric memorized and he sings along with great gusto. And he leads his subjects: servants, children, wife, with a firm but gentle hand. Just like George.

All teasing aside, I'm a lucky girl. Dave is the kind of guy who hates most media and won't even watch a PG-13 movie if it's questionable. Which means he fully embraces wholesome, family-oriented entertainment. And when I say "embraces," I mean it. And the reason he likes this one so much is because of its message that raising children is more important than raising money. Or, as Bert explains in a reverse-psychology kind of way at the end:

"You've got to grind, grind, grind at that grindstone,
Though childhood slips like sand through a sieve.
And all too soon they've up and grown,
And then they've flown,
And it's to late for you to give..."

But "Poppins!" (as the movie is known in our house) has become a family obsession, you could say. A couple months ago I heard our 2-year-old son in the kitchen chanting "Step in time, step in time." I peeked around the corner and saw him dancing along with his own accompaniment. And now he loves to sing "Let's Go Fly a Kite."

And then there's me. I totally want Mary Poppins and Bert to hook up. They need to make a sequel. Oh, and you know that part where Mary's reflection sings like an opera diva in "A Spoonful of Sugar?" I sing along there - And nail it! But really, if I were to try out for this local production I'm suggesting, I think I would want to play Mrs. Banks. I've got that whole "Sisters Suffragette" thing down.

This has been my humble submission for Sue's Very Funny Friday.

These pants aren't gonna fit today.

2009-02-05T13:23:00.000-08:00

Today has been one of those days. Let's just say I'm thankful for stretchy pants and 800mg Motrins that were prescribed for my sprained ankle a few weeks ago.

It's also been a day of introspection, as stretchy-pants-and-Motrin days tend to be.

We'd like to have another baby. But babies don't come to us easily, which means that I spend about half of my life wondering if I am pregnant and the other half split between bemoaning the fact that I'm not pregnant and trying to get pregnant.

Which leaves little time for physical fitness, don't you agree? I don't want to start a fitness program if I am pregnant (which I never am, BTW. Well, I was once.) I'm not in the mood to start a fitness program in the week that I'm confirmed un-pregnant, and there are more important things on the agenda in the week that I'm trying to become pregnant. And so it goes.

But something's got to give.

This morning as I was "checking my stuff," I read a blog post from my cousin's wife, Roxanne, who is inspirational in countless ways. Seriously. You should meet her. On her blog she announced she was preparing for two marathons this summer and asked if anyone would like to join her. I commented that I have dreams of being a marathon runner, but I am so far from being able to do it. She came to my blog and left a comment (because she's nice like that) that she was sure I could be ready for a 5k in time, and that if I was serious, she would help me get there.

So I'm taking her up on it. In fact, I immediately went looking for my running shoes.

Not in the coat closet. Not in my bedroom closet. This is a bad sign. Has it really been that long?

I search the garage which is full of boxes we haven't yet unpacked from our move. There's one running shoe. I'm gonna need two. The search continues. I find my bathroom scale. Do I dare? I dare. It's bad news.

I find a pair of shoes that will do. I pack my son on my hip and with a "Curious George" DVD in hand, we head downstairs.

I plug in the treadmill, awakening it from a very long coma. It works! I try to adjust the incline. And now the treadmill doesn't work anymore. I cuss at it. (Not a real swear word. Those aren't allowed. Just something that would make Dave ask me "What are you cussing about?" To which I would respond, "I'm not cussing! Why the heck do you always have to ask me that?!")

So I give up on the treadmill and give the elliptical a reason to exist for 10 minutes. So I did something at least. Something that will get me just a little bit closer to being the hottie that I'm supposed to be.

I have a 10-year high school reunion coming up. I don't want to be fat for that. Dave doesn't understand why I care. He doesn't understand why I would want to go to my reunion in the first place (we had very different high school experiences), and he especially doesn't understand why I would care about impressing anybody.

But here's the thing. I don't care about impressing anyone. The huge popularity of this blog (check out my 9 followers!) and my smokin' hot husband are all I need to impress anyone.

It's just that... I'd rather not know that everyone's first thought at seeing me is "She's gained weight." I'd like to spare my own feelings from knowing that shame a couple hundred times in one night. Am I too self conscious? Maybe. Do I care too much what other people think? Definitely.

So no more banana cookies for breakfast. And when I'm finally lookin' fly, I'm going to try to be a JCPenney model.

Keeping teens out of trouble

2009-01-29T10:20:00.000-08:00

I've figured it out. It's banana cookies.

I don't have very much motherhood experience yet, but it wasn't very long ago that I was a teenager myself. I was a pretty good kid. I cared a lot about making my parents proud. And I only snuck out once.

(Since my parents are going to read this... Mom and Dad, that thing about sneaking out once was just a joke. Nicole and I never snuck out of her house and we absolutely did not let Robyn's car roll down the hill before we started it so their parents wouldn't hear.)

During my later high school years I ran with a pretty tame crowd. The boys did rent an R-rated movie once (and I made them take me home, thank you very much), but that was about as edgy as we got. We had a lot of crazy, goofy fun (taking any opportunity imaginable to dress up in our tackiest thrift store ensembles, etc.), but we were a pretty well-behaved bunch.

And I think it's because of the banana cookies.

Jodi's mom made these delicious frosted chocolate chip banana cookies, and they were always available. Sister Traveller would make several batches at a time and keep them in the fridge in a big plastic container, stacked with wax paper. There was never a day without banana cookies at that house, and it was one of the reasons we spent so much time there.

Jodi's house was usually the main gathering location for our group of friends. And it's not because her parents let us get away with anything. It's because of the banana cookies. We watched movies, we planned out our student government campaigns, we did algebra homework and we ate banana cookies. And when the boys weren't there, we talked about boys. And Jodi's mom was audience to all of it. She deserved to be a part of everything because she kept us all full of banana cookies.

So if you want to keep your kids and their friends on the straight and narrow, follow these simple instructions:

Ingredients:
2.5 cups flour
1.5 tsp. bk.pwd.
1/2 tsp cinnamon
1/4 tsp. bk.soda
1/4 tsp. salt
1/4 tsp. ground cloves
Mix and set aside

1/2 cup butter, softened
1 cup sugar
2 eggs
1/2 tsp. vanilla
1 cup mashed banana (aprox. 2.5 bananas)
1 pkg. choc. chips

Mix butter and sugar 'til fluffy. Add eggs and vanilla, beat well. Alternate dry ingredients and mashed banana. Stir in choc. chips. 350, 10 mins. (I had to bake mine longer.)

Frosting:
2 tb. butter
1/4 cup mashed banana (aprox. 1/2 banana)
2 cups pwd. sugar
1/2 tsp. vanilla

Whip until smooth. Frost cooled cookies.

Things that could have gone better

2009-01-23T13:08:00.000-08:00

Since Sue announced that she was going to do "Very Funny Friday," I wanted to participate (Even though Sue doesn't know who I am).

I wondered how I could be sure I was "very funny." But THEN!

Wonder Woman posted about a very embarrasing date story, and that made me think, "Hey! I've made a fool of myself LOTS of times!"

Story #1 (inspired by Wonder Woman's story): I was dating a boy in college. After we said goodnight after a date, I was walking backwards as I smiled, waved, batted my eyes, and fell down the stairs backwards. That could have gone better.

Story #2: This happened just two nights ago. I attended a recipe group which was held at a home in a very nice neighborhood. As I was outside gathering all the things I needed to make the drink, another car pulled up. I didn't recognize the woman who got out of the car, but I'm new to the ward so that was no surprise. She asked me if I needed help, and I told her, "Nope! I just need to lock up the car because we are in a pretty scary neighborhood." I sensed she didn't know I was joking. When we both walked inside, she introduced herself as the host's mother, and I realized that I just told her that her daughter lives in a very scary part of town. That could have gone better.

(Note to self: Don't try to be funny if they don't know you. People don't always get it, and then they think you're weird. Like the nurse at the doctor's office last week. As she was trying to lace up an ankle brace that wasn't going to fit because your leg is too thick you said, "It's the same reason I can't wear tall sexy boots." She didn't care about that.)

Story #3: My mother-in-law told me she loves my blog but wondered why I chose such a demeaning name for it ("Good Frau"). I told her it's because that is what her son calls me all the time. That could have gone better.

That will have to do for now. I like to keep things short around here, AND I have to write a talk for Sunday. And the sooner I get that done, the sooner I give myself permission to go to Costco and to go shopping for some sexy jeans.

My magic red coat

2009-01-21T17:00:00.000-08:00

I am in love with my new red coat. After a tireless search, I finally found the perfect coat. And did I mention it's red? I love it.

The day after I bought it, I couldn't wait to leave the house, just so I could wear my coat. Dave asked me if I had planned my clothes around my coat. Of course I had. He told me he thought so.

So while I was all gussied up, he took a bunch of goofy pictures of me. Dave is an excellent photographer, but I'm afraid the coat is not actually magic, and it didn't actually make me look 40 pounds thinner. So you don't get to see those ones.

Instead, I took matters into my own hands (really... I had the camera in my own hands), and I took a few glamour shots of myself. You can see one of those.

You're welcome. Oh, and look. My new red coat makes me irresistible.

Eager

2009-01-21T15:21:00.001-08:00

That's me. Eager.

I'm in a new town and a new ward, and I've moved around a lot since I got married almost 8 years ago. It's been hard for me to adjust to all this moving.

Now that we're in a place we plan to stay indefinitely, I've decided I'm going to throw myself into whatever I can. I am eager to make friends. I'm eager to make casseroles. I'm eager to bring a bag of chips to your humanitarian effort. I'm eager to stalk my neighbors' blogs (and even leave comments!) to get to know some girls around here. I'm eager to take my son to a Mom & Tot tumbling class. I'm eager to stop you at the dollar store and introduce myself because I recognize you from church.

So if I seem a little too eager, well, I am. But I'm really glad to be where I am, and I'm excited to finally settle down.

Maybe they should re-think this one.

2009-01-11T19:22:00.000-08:00

Last week, my husband stumbled upon possibly the worst invention in the history of mankind.

Let me tell you the story.

My dear, smart, hard-working husband was in a meeting at work. While someone else was speaking, my husband was fiddling with a dry-erase marker, pushing the cap on and off. He noticed the marker had an appealing apple scent, so he gave it a couple good whiffs.

This is the point when his participation decreased significantly, because he was high.

I couldn't stop laughing when he told me the story, picturing my young professional husband in a corner sniffing markers. He said it wasn't quite like that and that I have nothing to be embarrased about.

He said he felt sick all day and he was still a little light-headed when he came home.

So why would someone think this is a good idea? I have lots of good ideas. In fact, I am going to be a millionare someday with one of my good ideas... wait and see! My ideas are GOOD for you and won't even get you fired!

His biggest fan

2009-01-07T13:53:00.000-08:00

If you know me or if you ever read my other blog (the one that's private now), you know that during the last season of American Idol, I was a huge fan of David Archuleta. As in... chasing him down with a bunch of 12-year-olds outside his high school while I was carrying a 1-year-old. I am not proud of that. Or am I?

(This was obviously before I attended the SLC auditions and realized the whole thing is a big SCAM! No, just kidding..... but why did they let me sing so long? WHY?!)

Anyway.

Apparently I'm not as big a fan as my little brother (a 26-year-old father of 1.5), who gets David Archuleta fan updates texted to his phone frequently. He said it was by accident that he signed up for the updates.

Sure it was. I also accidentally voted for him like, a ka-trillion times after the finale.

I spent my extra second...

2009-01-01T00:32:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year!

I read a story on KSL.com tonight (still haven't learned my lesson) about how the International Earth Rotation and Reference Systems Service decided to add one second to the end of 2008, meaning that the last minute of 2008 was actually 61 seconds long. It's to adjust the time to the earth's slowing rotation, apparently.

I did some math, and I decided it would be more efficient to add a whole minute every 8,640 years.

Now, how do I get on that committee?

Excellent talk on creativity/education

2008-12-31T11:01:00.000-08:00

My friend Annie posted this on her blog. Everything he says rings true to me and I think he presents very valuable ideas. It's about 20 minutes long and worth the time.

But before I post it, I've always thought I would love to be involved with my kids in some kind of charter school or something that only taught the creative and active parts of education, and especially the parts that benefit from a group. I would love to homeschool my kids in math, science, languages, social studies, etc., and then take them to school for choir, orchestra, band, football, drama, etc. And if there were enough kids involved, then maybe this school's sports teams could play against the other area schools.

I don't know enough about how the system works to know if it's a feasible idea, especially within the timeframe it would benefit my kid(s). But I think it would be so wonderful. Thoughts?

Okay... watch this! Especially if you're interested in children's potential. :)

The way the West Side does it

2008-12-18T13:09:00.000-08:00

Here in Utah, there seems to be an attitude that living east of I-15 is most acceptable. The closer you are to the mountains, the higher your actual personal worth. The west is crime-ridden and downtrodden while the east is rich and cultured.

(Speaking of such attitudes, it seems like there are a lot them here in Utah. Bad attitudes from both sides of the east/west issue, the Mormon/not-Mormon issue, the Ogden issue, etc. But I think I would be blissfully unaware of all of these attitudes if I would just stay off the stupid KSL message boards. Or if my husband would stop talking to his co-worker, Adam*.)

But as much as we like to dismiss such attitudes, we couldn't deny that there was something fishy happening on the west side when we witnessed the following:

One night as we were house hunting, we were kinda out in the country when we saw two cars pull over to the side of the road. Far from curious eyes (or so they thought) the drivers stepped out of their cars. Both well-kept women. Probably Mormons. One carried a pizza box while the other carried a Krispy Kreme box. They met in the middle, quickly made the swap with little or no words, and both left the scene as quickly as they had come.

To the unsuspecting witness, it looked as though they traded pizza for doughnuts. But why would they meet that way just to exchange delicious junk food? WHY?!

I have some theories.

Perhaps the pizza box was filled with cash and the doughnut box carried black market Young Women medallions. I could use one of those.

Perhaps they were swapping secret family recipes. You know... the ones that are really supposed to stay secret.

Maybe one of them is running an illegal coupon-clipping ring.

Whatever it was, I bet they got away with it.

We did end up buying a house on the west side. So far we feel completely safe and happy in our surroundings. But we are keeping our eyes wide open, and you can bet we won't be quiet about it next time we see a suspicious swap. We don't want that kind of thing in our neighborhood.

*Name changed for my husband's protection.

Perfect Christmas

2008-12-17T12:07:00.000-08:00

I have been thinking a lot lately about how great Christmas was as a kid.

I think my parents handled Christmas just right. We always had a beautiful Christmas tree and a lovely Nativity set on the piano. We'd had that set as long as I could remember and it was a beautiful reminder of why we were celebrating. I always looked forward to unpacking it and setting it up just the way it had been set up the year before and the year before that.

But what I'm really thankful for now is that I never learned from my parents that Christmas was "the busiest time of the year." I'm sure that behind the scenes there was some stress about getting everything together for four kids every year, but as far as we could tell, Christmas was always a peaceful, happy time.

My parents didn't send Christmas cards every year. We didn't always make gingerbread houses. But we DID always use our special Christmas placemats! Last year my little brother dug those placemats out. I think we had kinda forgotten about them (but not my brother, because he remembers EVERYthing). But as soon as they were out, we were so excited! We put each one where it went when we were kids. Each of us (including my parents) had our own Christmas placemat. Mine was the gingerbread house. My sister's was the teddy bear. My older brother had the candy canes and my younger brother had Santa Claus. My mom's placemat was a Christmas wreath and my dad's was toy soldiers. Of course! The memories of how excited we were to use the special placemats came rushing back.

But it was such a simple joy. It didn't take a lot of money or preparation. It was just a simple tradition that we loved.

My family has some other special Christmas traditions. Every year we play Christmas carols on the homemade chimes. It started at my grandparents' house, and now my parents have carried on the tradition and I even have my own set of chimes now. Along with this tradition is the tradition for the older kids to complain that we have to play the chimes (even though I know they love it). Those older kids are now in their late 20s and 30s. They still complain. And then they still sit down with a chime and a butterknife and play their part at Grandma's house.

And who could forget about Christmas pajamas?

One very special and simple tradition we have is singing our favorite Christmas songs together on Christmas Eve. Sometimes with the piano, sometimes without. It's wonderful either way. We take out the hymnbook and sing through our favorite songs about Christ's birth. Christmas doesn't get better than this.

My parents didn't throw or even attend fancy Christmas parties. Sometimes we had Christmas lights on the house, and sometimes we didn't.

But by not worrying too much about making everything perfect, that's exactly what they did. Christmas was a special, peaceful time. Perfect.

Bona fide

2008-12-12T09:21:00.000-08:00

My cousin was married in October and they had an amazing photographer. The photographer just posted their pictures to her photography blog (Thanks for the heads up, Melissa), and they are incredible. Take a look... I think you'll agree they are one of the most beautiful couples in history.

"Greetings"

2008-12-03T11:50:00.001-08:00

I always told my husband that if we ever had a Boston terrier I would want to name him Greetings... because they look like little aliens.

But when our son shouted out "Panda Bear!" when he saw the puppy, we decided to go with that instead.

So, Greetings from Panda Bear (Panda for short).

Panda is 8 weeks old and we got him from a family who took him in Thanksgiving night. So they gave him four days before deciding they weren't ready for a puppy. He's actually a good puppy, but they have 4 kids including a 7-month-old, and they weren't planning to get a puppy anyway. It was a spur of the moment thing for them and he is kinda spazzy, so they decided to find a new home for him.

Enter me!

I saw an online classified ad while my husband was returning the boxer who didn't work out. Short story shorter, we went to see him the next night and brought him home.

I've wanted a Boston terrier for a long time, so I am so excited. But as puppies are, he's a handful. He's got energy like I've only seen in one other place:

That's our other dog, Ruby. She's a boxer. Boxers are very athletic and energetic, but our dog makes other boxer owners' jaws drop with her feats of athleticism and misbehavior.

So I've got my hands full, to say the least. But it's not that bad, and we expect some craziness while Panda is a puppy. Right now it's chaos for about 20 minutes at a time and then quiet for a couple hours while Panda sleeps. And then they repeat the routine.

We learned our lesson with Ruby's puppyhood (she's almost 6 years old), and we will be much better with training Panda to be a good, well-adjusted dog. Don't tell the Dog Whisperer I said this, but I think Ruby is a lost cause at this point. She's very sweet and calm most of the day, but when she's around other people she's nuts. She'll calm down after about 15 minutes, but she usually doesn't get that long to prove herself.

All the craziness aside, we're really happy with Panda. I feel like we have a big animal family again. He's a very sweet puppy and my son really loves him. Even though he reminds me of:

My own perfection

2008-12-02T09:13:00.001-08:00

My mom says I'll probably still have big thighs in Heaven because they're not an "imperfection."

Discuss.

Missing Beanie

2008-12-01T10:20:00.000-08:00

In June 2003 my husband and I happened upon a family giving away kittens in a Wal-Mart parking lot. For free!

We're suckers for animals and for good deals, so you can guess what happened next.

My husband had always wanted a gray kitty, and before our eyes was a beautiful one. It didn't take too much discussion.

We took Joey home to meet his new housemates: Mimi, our grumpy old cat who wanted nothing to do with him, and Ruby and Beanie, our two big, rambunctious boxers.

Joey was a perfect fit and loved playing with the dogs, even when they got rough.

Joey and Beanie had a very special connection. She treated him like he was her puppy, and he treated her like his mama. She would bathe him and even let him try to nurse. They really loved each other.

For three years Joey and Beanie were two peas in a pod. I'd never seen a dog and cat who loved each other so much.

But there was a little problem. Beanie had a scary aggressive tendency. She gave no warning, and when she would attack, it was awful. I don't want to get into all the sad details here, but when I was pregnant we decided we couldn't keep her anymore after a particularly scary episode.

We talked to two vets about her behavior and they both told us she had probably inherited this characteristic and that it wasn't something that could be trained out of her. And even if we did our best with training, we could never be sure she wouldn't act on that instinct.

It was one of the hardest, saddest decisions we ever made. It's 2 1/2 years later and it still makes me weep to think about her. Looking for pictures today makes me miss her so much. She was an incredibly sweet and gentle dog 99% of the time. She was so affectionate, loyal, obedient... a perfect dog in almost every way. But it was that scary 1% of the time that we could not ignore and we had to make a very hard decision for the welfare of our child.

We cried for days, wondering if we had really made the right decision, knowing we couldn't change it. We missed her so much and wondered how long the sadness would last. We couldn't even talk about her. We put her collar high on a shelf in the garage. We wanted to save it, but couldn't bear to see it.

Ruby wondered where her pal had gone. She spent days at the bottom of the stairs waiting for Beanie to tromp down them and wrestle with her. I can only imagine how lonely Joey felt without his Beanie.

That was in 2006. It's almost 2009 and we have been considering getting another dog. Our son loves animals and Ruby doesn't like to play with him, so we wanted to find a dog that would be good buddies with our son and with Ruby.

We found Tyson, a boxer, through an online classified ad. He was 3 years old and needed a new home. We decided to take him in.

Imagine Joey's surprise. In walked a reverse brindle boxer who looked remarkably like Beanie. Joey was cautious, but not afraid. He inched closer and closer until he was rubbing faces with Tyson, within a minute of Tyson's first step into our home. We think Joey must have thought Tyson WAS Beanie.

Unfortunately, Tyson had not grown up with cats. His only exposure to cats turned out badly, as the cats fought with him and scratched him up.

Tyson wanted to kill Joey.

So Tyson went back to his old family, and Joey has to be the most confused cat in the world right now.

It's been a long time since I have written anything about Beanie. It's still hard-- heartbreaking-- to think about her. She was one of the family and she's gone. We hope we see her in Heaven someday and that she will understand our decision and love us again.

Tag-a-lag-a-ding-dong

2008-11-22T09:58:00.000-08:00

My gorgeous, talented, super-mom cousin Ali tagged me. (And she even teased me a little with her tag. But I'm doing it anyway.)

Quick Five:
1. What were you doing TEN years ago? I was in my senior year of high school and loving it. Singing in Madrigals, hanging out with Jessica, flirting with the boys.

2. What are Five things on your to-do list today? Go buy a big doodle-pad for my son, pick up a birthday cake or cupcakes, wrap presents, have a party, wait for my husband to come home with good news.

3. Snacks I enjoy are: Fruit strips from Target, Wheat Thins (There are lots more, but not enough room on the internet to list them.)

4. Places I have lived: Idaho, Utah, Kansas, Brownstuccoland (currently)

5. Five things I would do if I were a millionaire: First I would order my green couch! Then I would pay off my house. Then I would pay someone to make sure my food storage is in order always. Then I would hire a maid. Then I would hire a chef. Hmmmm... how did the personal trainer get left out? I may have to do some prioritizing.

8 TV shows you like to watch:
(We don't have TV at our house, but there are a few shows I watch online, and a very few that I haul out the antenna for.)
1. The Office
2. Psych
3. 30 Rock
4. American Idol.

That's all! I don't have 8. We do enjoy watching "Everybody Loves Raymond" and "Arrested Development" on DVD.

8 favorite places I love to eat:
1. Any good sit-down Mexican restaurant will always be first on my eating-out list.
2. Grandma's house.
3. Mom and Dad's house.
4. Bajio/Cafe Rio
5. Arby's
6. Best Burger
7. New York Burrito
8. In front of the computer.

8 things that happened yesterday:
1. Rushed to find a bra when the doorbell rang.
2. Drove all over Utah to meet dogs and potentially bring one home. (Didn't. Don't worry, Mom.)
3. Went to a family party in Sandy.
4. Broke up a toddler fight.
5. Took my child to a donut shop at 11:30 p.m. (We're on a late schedule. And yes, we did get funny looks.)
6. Saw my husband's grandma for the first time in several years and met her new husband for the first time ever.
7. Got lost driving way too many times (this = carsick mama and baby).
8. Came home very, very tired.

8 things I look forward to:
1. Thanksgiving with family in Idaho.
2. Birthday party for my son and his cousin.
3. Jazz vs. Bulls Monday (This coincides with meeting my sister-in-law's boyfriend... big night!)
4. Getting my green couch and pretty chairs.
5. Having the whole house painted inside. (There's A LOT of painting to do around here.)
6. Having another baby (someday).
7. Seeing my sister. (I don't know when that will happen, but I miss her!)
8. Having a get-together with my RR friends.

8 things on my wish list:
1. Green couch
2. Pretty chairs
3. This painting
4. A husband who is not mad at me for blogging instead of helping him find the battery charger. (Well... I wish for the same husband, just that he's not mad.)
5. Size 8 jeans (10 would be nice, too. I look pretty hot as a size 10)
6. Someone to come unpack everything at my house.
7. That my son might never again have an explosive poo.
8. That I might actually make friends in my new ward/neighborhood.

And now a question for YOU! Do you like doing tags? I think they're usually fun, but I never know who to tag. Tell me if you like to be tagged, and I'll totally tag you.

I've been thieved.

2008-11-20T15:10:00.000-08:00

Let me tell you a little story.

Once upon a time, in a very cold land (Rexburg-ish), there was a young frau who was borrowing her brother's Jeep while he was on a mission.

One day the frau, an advertising saleswoman, happened upon a beautiful used Audi station wagon with leather interior. She wanted it for her very own.

(You may not think station wagons are cool. But you would be wrong.)

Because the car lot was owned by a friend (the luck!), the young frau was offered an amazing price on the car.

However, the frau's husband was not an easy sell, and gave the frau a very hard time as she tried to convince him that it was, indeed, a necessary purchase.

Because the car seemed so nice (a little old, but nice), the husband had a hard time seeing its practicality.

The frau aired her grievances to her 40-year-old man-hating coworker, who encouraged her to buy it anyway, with or without the husband's consent.

But she wasn't that kind of frau.

Eventually the husband gave in.

The car had a few quirks (like buzzing for a full minute everytime the frau turned on the lights or the radio), but needed no major repairs and kept the frau nicely transported for years.

Five years later, the husband and the frau were moving their small family to a nearby town. The husband decided to start driving the wagon so he could transport more belongings on weekdays after work.

That frau, ladies and gentleman, is me. The official moving day has come and gone, but my husband continues to take the station wagon (MY station wagon) to work every day. He says he likes it better than his car, which we bought brand new.

I told 'im so. I love it when I'm right. But it usually doesn't take 5 years to prove it.

I love my decorator

2008-11-19T17:11:00.000-08:00

My husband is at Sears shopping for drapes for our new house.

Without me.

Should I trust him?

ETA: Getting drapes/blinds is an emergency. The people we bought the house from took all their blinds with them. So we are living here with very minimal privacy at the moment.

Will trade for a pistol

2008-11-08T17:26:00.000-08:00

We are moving into our new house next week and we have been considering the purchase of a secondhand fish tank.

Browsing the KSL classified ads tonight, we saw several ads for aquariums (from different people) that said "Will trade for a pistol" or "Will consider a trade for firearms."

It made my husband and I both wonder, what's the connection between guns and fish tanks? And is there an equal number of people looking to trade in their firearms for aquariums?

Amateur Toddler Wrestling League

2008-11-06T09:06:00.001-08:00

To join the Amateur Toddler Wrestling League, you don't have to be a toddler. You just have to be raising one.

(Wrestling a toddler in a day-care setting would be considered professional toddler wrestling, making one ineligible to wrestle in amateur leagues.)

I am climbing the ranks, inching closer to championship status every day. I've been perfecting my toddler wrestling skills for weeks, and by the time my son is potty trained I should be unbeatable.

It's a rigorous schedule. Sometimes 5 or 6 matches a day. Maybe more if my son has eaten a lot of grapes.

I think it's time to think about potty training.

My son will be two in a couple weeks. If you ask him, having his diaper changed is the absolute worst kind of torture. He has always hated being changed anywhere but home, but recently he's decided he's had enough of the whole thing.

So we're trying to prepare him for potty training. For instance, when he escapes from the bathtub, stops in his tracks and begins peeing on the floor, I calmly tell him, "You're peeing on the floor. You're going pee-pee on the floor. Next time you could go pee-pee in the toilet."

We're moving to a new house this month, so toddler wrestling will continue without potty training for a few weeks at least. In the meantime, I'm considering investing in some spandex and a tattoo so I look more intimidating.

Boy Bands: The Next Generation

2008-11-04T11:16:00.000-08:00

Speaking of being trendy... I sometimes read or hear comments about how someone doesn't like something because "it's trendy." That doesn't make any sense to me. I assume it is because a person wants to break away from the norm and be an individual.

That makes sense on the surface, but does it really? If you choose to disavow everything "trendy" aren't you really just allowing everyone else to decide what you don't like? Wouldn't you be more of an individual if you allowed yourself to pick and choose what you enjoy from all genres of music, all types of hobbies, etc.?

I do understand the feeling of pride that comes from being one of the first to know and love a band, a TV show, an obscure movie, etc. That makes sense to me. But deciding you don't like them anymore after they become popular is just stubborn, isn't it?

So now I will come out of the closet and admit that I listen to a lot of Top 40 radio. I know many of my family and friends are way too sophisticated for such things, but I'm not a music snob. I love music... even the cheesy stuff that's shallow but entertaining. But have no fear! I like a lot of the stuff my elitist husband likes, too.

(Speaking of my elitest husband, we had this same conversation about "trendy" things, and I actually think I may have convinced him to give my way of thinking about music a try. He even e-mailed me as he was listening to pop music on the radio, telling me which songs had "merit." I was so proud.)

But I have to draw the line somewhere.

There seems to be a new wave of particularly annoying pop music. Today's boy bands are very... whiney. Aren't they? They all sound like Weird Al to me, but I suspect they'd like to be taken seriously.

Here's why

2008-11-04T11:12:00.000-08:00

I decided to start a new blog. I made my family blog private so I could protect pictures and information better. But what I loved about having it public was being able to connect with old friends and even make some new ones.

So here we are. I'm not really sure where this one will go, but at least it will show up on Google Reader so people don't forget about me!

I came up with a bunch of awesome names for this blog. But they were all taken. Mostly by people who never posted anything or haven't posted anything since 2001. Early bird gets the worm, I guess.

From 2008

2008-05-10T22:03:00.000-07:00

(Pasted from my other blog for reference. I didn't post the whole thing because it was too long. But here's the story I linked for.)

After the big party at his high school stadium, we were all just kinda hanging around trying to decide if we wanted to do anything else in Salt Lake while we were all together. After most of the crowd was gone we saw a bunch of people congregating by a limo, so we went over to check it out. Dave could see that there were security guards standing in a doorway, so while others were crowding around the limo, we got as close as we could to that door. When David Archuleta walked from that door to the limo, all the girls who were there ran to the edge of the sidewalk to scream for (at?) him. I hesitated briefly, knowing that I was too old to get so excited about a 17-year-old, but then I thought, "What the heck?" And I joined the screaming masses with an infant in my arms. I accidentally almost pushed a girl over as I was trying to get a high five, and thought to myself, "Now this really is ridiculous." But I am president of the fan club, so I knew I was representing more than just my own interests. I'm not sure if I got a high five from David Archuleta or from one of his bodyguards, but no matter what, I was this close.