Another Snack

TIME magazine did an article on Stephenie Meyer that is very interesting. Check it out here.

BECAUSE I SAID SO

There's a mommy blog I like reading that sometimes is so stinking funny. Maybe this post wasn't quite that funny but it made me laugh out loud.

Anyway, who cares right?

Judge for yourself.

Oh yeah, I need to add a disclaimer on the picture below. It's from a snow storm a few weeks ago when it snowed. Yesterday it didn't stick. Thank.goodness.

Not Again. Argh.

Um, it's snowing.

Right now.

On April 24.

I have a nasty feeling this year will be one of the ones where it snows in June.

I hope the roses I got in the mail that are sitting in buckets of water outside waiting to be planted are okay. I might be out there in my parka putting them in the ground.

Lex is singing, "It's snowing, it's snowing,

The old man is snoring,

He fell out of bed and bumped his head,

He couldn't get up in the morning."

Someone make me an old man. Now.

And give me a Winnebago and a map pointing South.

Just in case you forgot what it looks like.

Did I mention my husband has a camp out with the Scouts this weekend? In the mountains. Because that's pretty much the only place to camp around here.

Character and Personality On a Dime.

Want to build a new house with lots of character for less than $2,000? I'm not talking about just the blueprints, I mean the whole house. Check them out here. Go on, do it, you know you want to take a look.

Unfortunately, we're about 70 years too late.

Sorry to get your hopes up.

Holey...Puffs

Lexie lost her first tooth today! I'll post a picture and tell more about the story tomorrow. Believe it or not, I'm sick of being on the computer right now and Dan just informed me that Mr. Destructo is poopy. In his sleep. And that it's my turn to change him. Argh.

Also, we have all had colds, except Dad who gets to go to work and leave it all anyway, and allergies are hitting, and we are out of Puffs With Lotion. My life is over, or rather, my schnoz is not happy. Toilet paper does not compare to my beloved Puffs With Lotion. You have not lived through a cold without Puffs With Lotion. Puffs With Lotion. Get some today...don't forget the With Lotion. Wipes the snot like butter...er...something like that.

The Good With the Bad

You know your own manners are bad when you burp and your two-year-old says, "Me me, Mom."

By the way, "me me" is "Excuse me" in Mr. Destructo language. He actually says it for himself after he burps too. Because you all wanted so badly to know about our pooping and belching habits. Yes. Fascinating.

Have I ever mentioned how the destructive one is also the sweetest one? He knows how to win the ladies. He must be taking lessons from the little boy behind us--named Cannon--who declared to his mom that he's going to marry my Lexie and a darling little girl (who's Mr. Destructo's age) named Mara.

He told his mom she needs to buy him a wedding suit. When she said she'd do it after his mission, he said, no, she needed to do it now.

I think, that besides being influenced by our favorite Warren J., he knows how to hold on to a good thing when he's got it. He's so romantic too. He stands at the gate between our backyards and calls her name at the very top of his lungs. Who can resist that kind of serenading?

Sadly, they're moving this summer. Lex told me a few days ago that she wanted to move by Cannon so she could be close to him. It must be love. We'll let her be close to him after her mission.

Can Anybody Spare a Match?

At 6:30 this morning, a time, I might add, that is unnaturally early to be awake, Dan came in to tell me that poor little coughing Sawyer was crying and brought him to me. I was semi-awake, but not happy about being so, sick baby or not.

He came in a few minutes later to tell me, "There's another little surprise for you...Lexie got poop on the floor mat." Joy.

"She's still sitting on the toilet," and he left for work. I went back to sleep with S-man.

Let me now mention that Miss Lexie fell asleep early last evening and woke up at 11:30 when I was ready to go to bed and wanted to watch TV with me, which she did until 1:00 while I fell asleep on the couch.

Thanks to her "nap," she was wide awake. Never the less, I put her to bed. Then she proceeded to yell at her brother to stop talking--in his sleep--and when I went in to make her stop talking, told me he kept making weird noises. As if he could help himself.

Then things got hazy. She got up for something else and went into the bathroom for something--dinking around--but it ended up by me saying with a few choice words, "I'm going to bed and you can put yourself to bed," as we were nearing 2:00, and I was not pleased. So she proceeded to sit in the bathroom and pull individual squares of toilet paper off the roll and throw them into a gargantuan pile on the floor.

This I found later when she lured me to the bathroom with how-dare-you-leave-me-in-here-in-the-middle-of-the-night-indignant-angry-"You-left-me-in-here-all-by-myself!"-crying. She got another choice word some scolding for leaving me such a nice present and was then led ungraciously by the hand to bed. Then she was told to leave her brother alone for talking in his sleep and to go to sleep herself. This was effective, and about time, too.

Needless to say, I was not pleased to learn that my night crawler was awake at the unearthly hour of 6:30 and had pooped on the rug. By the way, if you needed the added reminder, she is way.too.old to be pooping on the floor or in her pants or anywhere besides the porcelain receiver.

But wait, as this story lags and drags, it gets better.

When I went in to take a shower (10 points for showering at 8:00 AM), I dutifully looked for the poop so I could ascertain the work cut out for me, and so I wouldn't step on it (that would have been the icing on the cake). Lexie had thoughtfully covered the poop with three squares from her stash on the floor, at least I hope that's where they came from and weren't fresh off the roll. Argh. But then, I spied some poop on the outside edge of the seat. "Oh boy, what treasures are in store for me now?" I placidly wondered.

Upon lifting the lid, I found a small puddle of runny poop (enough descriptives for you?) stuck where the Dora seat--also not a necessity for Miss L anymore, but yet she indulges--met the regular seat. And inside the toilet? The fruits of her labor were nearly all covered with enough individual squares of toilet paper to ensure that there was no earthly way any of the mess would fit through the minuscule opening (it's small, I've seen it--when Roto Rooter guys had to fish out my sister's cell phone--another story) to the pipes. I'm telling you, there was actually a pile of toilet paper squares sticking up out of the water.

I tried anyway.

I was relatively successful, as the toilet contents didn't spill over. But. We'll be using our spare toilet today. Yes people, if you have more than one, they're just spares. Why else would we want so many bathrooms? Because they're fun to clean? No. Because sometimes the regular ones are out of order and we need the spares. (Though I do occasionally wish we had a spare shower and tub.)

No, I didn't take any pictures. I thought I'd spare you.

To end on a happyish note, wasn't David Cook so freaking awesome good the other night (duh, on Idol)? I dully informed Dan if I wasn't already taken, I'd always want to be Mr. Cook's baby. I do like me a good rockin' singer.

A Bellyful

Tonight I took Lexie with me to hang out with my friends, Heather and Melissa, and their girls. After Lex and Kinzlee did make-up (mostly bright blue eyeshadow, glitter all over, and bright shocking pink lipstick), and Lexie broke a bottle of purple nail polish on Heather's tile floor in her new house, and we dumped the babies into bed, we went to the local DQ.

Lexie and Kinzlee and Corbin (his mom traded the twins for him) were giggling and laughing and having oh-so-much fun. Lots and lots of giggling.

Eventually Lex got up and told me she had to go to the bathroom. I looked over at her and it appeared that she'd already taken care of business. Her shorts (despite today's snow--after yesterday's 80 degree temps--it's what she picked) were quite wet down the middle.

So I asked her, "Did you wet your pants?"

Outraged, "No!"

Hands on hips, "That was laughing pee!" Heather and Melissa were in stitches by then.

"I was laughing so hard I peed a little in my pants." I'd say it was a bit more than a little, but I was too busy laughing with tears streaming to bring it up.

By then the kids were laughing so hard I thought Lexie would finish before making it to the bathroom. I haven't laughed that hard in so long.

Never underestimate laughing pee. Always hold it for the opportune moment.

Make-up adventures last summer. Pre-lipstick days.

Look at the wall--she was starting to finger paint it. That's why we can never have anything nice.

Sneak peeks...

For all Twilight fans:
http://www.etonline.com/news/2008/04/60435/index.html

And soon to be The Host fans:
http://www.stepheniemeyer.com/thehost.html#_self

Slim Odds

I have been working out at Curves for four weeks now and was so discouraged because I hadn't lost even half a pound!

But, tonight I learned that I've been weighing myself wrong. Apparently you shouldn't weigh yourself while you're working out, or right after, because your muscles weigh more when they're warm. (?!)

Huh. Explain that one to me.

Nevertheless, I heeded that advice and waited until I got home, some hours passed, and my stomach was empty again (a.k.a. growling, but I heeded it not). It worked! I've lost 7 pounds! Supposedly. We'll see what tomorrow brings.

No, I am not telling you my starting weight, it's too humiliating.

By the way, Mr. Destructo is mostly coherent now. Tonight when he got out of the tub and I was in the other room he called out, "Mom, I want a towel." Awesome.

Did I mention he also thinks he's a dog and likes to lick me? Not so awesome.

Apparently this is the new way to sit in a chair.

My sweet little Destructo.

Want to hear something sad? Yesterday we almost forgot it was our anniversary. Seven years, people. Excuse me, mosquitoes have been out, I have an itch to scratch. Our big celebration? We watched General Conference. From the great movie IQ, "Wah-hoo!"

Get Your Sear On

Grilling season has officially begun.

Last fall, our grill stopped working properly. I was traumatized. I.love.to.grill.

A few days ago, Dan took it apart, found the problem and fixed it--and it didn't cost anything!

We decided dinner must be grilled (apparently my new favorite non-synonymous word), and Miss Lexie naturally equated grilling with eating al fresco. With much begging persuading, we decided to do it, braving brisk, chill gales breezes and 50 degrees. You can't listen to a General Conference talk about living in the moment and making memories with your children, and then ignore it a mere hour later.

Chicken tenders (with my uncle's famous soy sauce and Sprite marinade) and potatoes (recipe found here).

Can you see the potato casualty?

I also tried roasting some fresh pineapple with cinnamon in foil. It smelled good, but I didn't do it long enough, so I basically just warmed it up. Still tasted good.

Our meager side-dish fare.

The hungry masses.

Hungry baby.

Surrogate tables.

Now let's hope the weather gets much, much better soon, and we don't get any more weather like we had last week (when these photos were captured).

In the vain hope that Spring will come, I had already planted peas in those Square Foot Gardening boxes back there! (Don't worry, they'll be all right--if they'll ever sprout).

My baby boxwoods and flowering cherry tree with freshly planted violas under it.

Holy Tipped-Over Cow

People you have to check out this house, uh, I mean trailer.

That's right, I said trailer. As in mobile home.

It's stunningly amazing what the stylin' lady has done to it.

Be warned,

this isn't your typical double-wide,

beer-can-pile-out-the-side-window,

car-on-blocks-in-the-front-yard,

aluminum-foil-on-the-windows,

kind of trailer.

Need I mention this trailer is twice. as. big. as. my. house?

I'm going to sell and get me a trailer.

How many times have I said "trailer"?

It's beginning to sound weird in my head.

Say "trailer" fifty times fast.

Say "fifty times fast" fifty times fast.

And move South--is winter ever going to end here? I have strawberries to plant!

How Do You Spell Out a Throat-Clearing Sound? I Have An Announcement

I'm slowly gaining bits of wisdom about children.

I want to share one.

If you're going to bestir yourself to mop the kitchen floor after a month-long sabbatical...

don't serve rice for dinner that night.

It defeats the purpose.

Oh yeah, Jamie and Andrew, I got you.

I didn't know I was so good--I had my mom convinced too. It's sad that it wasn't that hard to make her believe me.

But I'll still gladly take diaper donations since Oho is yet to be potty trained.

Great.

People, I am pregnant. Again.

No, it was not planned. At this point, no, I am not thrilled.

I will accept huge doses of sympathy.

And money.

Or diapers.

But this

is sweet, if blurry.

Like the first weeks with a newborn.