Happy First Anniversary!

A whole year of blogging under my belt. Wow.

Thanks to all of you that have stuck with me for all that time, and thanks to all you who have joined in since then (whomever you may be).

This hasn't turned into the blog I was expecting it to be, but I think I like it.

What?

An anniversary present for me?

Oh, no I couldn't.

Really.

Well, since you insist: for my anniversary present, I think I'd like you to tell me which post you like best.

Just go back to sleep..... or not

You know the day might be tough if: you were up reading The Diary of a Whimpy Kid online until 2 am (blame Roni), your children wake up around 7:15 when you were counting on them waking you up earlier to be somewhere by 8 am, your three-and-a-half-year-old spends the first 10 minutes awake shrieking like you bullwhipped him when all you did was comment, "I heard you yell this morning," and your 1-year-old decides to latch onto your leg when you're trying to do a roundhouse kick (no injuries).

You know the day might have been worth it when: the new dinner you tried was delicious (and it uses squash!), the two children are in bed by 7:30 pm, they laugh themselves to sleep, Netflix delivered a the start of a new series to watch, and there's Hagen Daas Amazon Chocolate ice cream to share with the Spozo.

There's a reason the Big O still wants a sister...

Thank you, Jesus!

I have heard people say, "Thank you, Jesus!" many times and many places. I never expected to hear it as part of my exercise routine. Maybe I should have been wary when I got the Tae Bo believers' workout, but I really wasn't expecting Billy Blanks to exhort me to shout, "Thank you, Jesus!" whenever I threw a punch.

I apologize in advance to anyone who says,"Thank you, Jesus!" around me. I might just punch you in the face. Nothing personal, of course.

Bi-Weekly Blood Rite

The Dude seems determined to draw blood from his own body at least twice a month. His biological clock must have an alarm labeled "bloodletting." When it goes off, a hormone is released that makes him clumsy enough to fall or fly or jump or dodge just the wrong way in order to fulfill the requirement.

Usually it involves teeth and lips; very rarely does it involve knees or elbows or any other easily scraped up or bangable part that would normally be associated with childhood accidents. (Although I am very glad he did not inherit his uncle's alarm labeled "stitches needed.")

Innovation of this week: involving the tongue. I can't say I'm attached to this addition. It meant a lot more blood. Which got on him, on me, and on the cement. Which meant more panic. Which meant more screaming. Which took more time to calm down to actually see the damage. Which turned out not to be horribly bad.

Yes, the tongue was not bitten through and did not require stitches. Although not severed, it still requires some special care. The poor darling has to have more milkshakes than usual. (I'm hoping this doesn't fall under positive reinforcement.)

On the bright side: now I know what bloodstained pavement looks like! Can't wait to bite my own tongue to have a good excuse to have a (chocolate) milkshake of my own!

Ratatouille!

I shucked off the motherly mantle for a few hours this morning (gracefully draping it across the Spozo's shoulders before I left) to go see Ratatouille with Jane Dough. I haven't had a girls' only activity for a very long time, and it was so nice to just laugh and talk without having to have one part of my brain keeping Constant Vigilance for dangers lurking nearby that I need to distract the Rosita and the Dude from enjoying.

I was infinitely glad to have a friend along because otherwise I would have been laughing alone quite a bit of the time, and I wouldn't have had anyone to make asides to during the movie.

Favorite scenes: the granny with the shotgun. linguini dancing while bitten by remy. the documents chase. the flashback scene. the rollerskating waiter in a snooty french restaurant. hmmmmm.... everything?

Be warned: you may have an irresistible urge to visit The French Laundry afterward. Luckily, the waiting list is over 5 months long, so you'll probably get over it by then.

Unless you watch the movie again.

I don't know if we can afford to own Ratatouille!

Life's a bit rosier now

I taught the Rosita "Ring Around the Rosy." I didn't, however, tell her it was all about the Black Death.

So I've been dizzier than usual this week.

But not as dizzy as when I get spun in this.

Apple of my eye

Considering that I married a computer nerd over 5 years ago, the fact that I have resisted the siren call of new gadgetry for as long as I have is somewhat astounding.

And now, it has happened. I am in the throes of passionate computer lust for the first time in my life. I might have wistfully envied before, but now I am desperately longing for the new mac mini with iLife 08 on it! The new iPhoto is just amazing. I can't wait to get my hands on it.

And of course, since I'll have such a cool new photo program, a new camera is imperative.

Insecurity

I want to thank Lady Steed for making my day yesterday.

All it takes is one compliment (and a cake stand) then I'm putty in your hands.

still on a YA fix

A Summer of Kings by Han Nolan

I recognized the name of Han Nolan, but I still can't remember what other book of hers I've read. Darn. A good book. Set in the 1960s at the height of civil rights with a young black man teetering between following Martin Luther King or Malcom X. Felt a bit preachy at times - a bit strained. But I enjoyed the relationship between Esther and her friend King-Roy and especially the tension over how they felt about each other individually as opposed to how they felt about each other's race.


Nothing but the Truth (and a few white lies) by Justina Chen Headley

This. was. hilarious. Headley made me believe in Patty Ho and all her worries, crazy mamas, belly-button divinations and not-fitting-in-ness. I loved the Kung-Fu hi-yah! and the Proofs she did. A great coming to feel comfortable with yourself and be strong girly book. Definitely going to be on my list of books to have the Cita read when she's a teen.


La Linea: A novel by Ann Jaramillo

I am all for novels that try to capture immigrating from Mexico and the hardships, but the few I have read so far have been lacking. Add this one to the list. The characters were wooden and the author used no imagery and evoked no emotion. When Miguel was mad, the description was, "Miguel felt so mad." I mean, really! An infinitely more entertaining (and non-fiction!) quick read on the (illegal) immigration issue is Coyotes by Ted Conover. Much more worth the time.

The Work and the Glory

I admit to one nasty laugh when I read, "'the work and the glory' isn't simply a set of serialized LDS novels but a sprawling, global effort that involves many more people than the Steed family and their 'Who's Who among Early Latter-day Saints' friends." (Trenton Hickman, Assistant Professor at BYU).

I further confess that I have read all nine (at least, I think there were only nine!) of Gerald N. Lund's Work and the Glory series AND his Kingdom and the Crown series.

I enjoy them for what I understand their purpose to be: making Church History a bit more accessible (and enjoyable) to many members that wish to know more about the founding years of the church (in both dispensations) but find it hard when faced with a list of boring dates and facts.

BUT

They are Not Great Literature. They are the Soap Opera version of Church History; the only reason I read all of them was because I had to know how they ended.

My question is this: Does anyone know of a Great Mormon Novel? One that explores the Saints' experiences without trying to make everything.. so rose-tinted? The closest thing I've encountered so far is Orson Scott Card's (appropriately named) Saints. But I'd like to think there are more out there.

Hypothetically speaking....

Say someone very nicely changed a dirty diaper. Say that same someone lobbed said diaper across the house just for the fun of it. Say the diaper is still there because it is beneath someone else's dignity to properly deposit it in the trash (especially when the someone else was the intended victim of said lobbing).

Hypothetically speaking, of course, do you think blogging about it would make someone decide to place the diaper into the proper receptacle?

Update: It worked!