Friday, January 21, 2011


I made a happy discovery this week. Who would've thought that the solution to our problems was hidden on the button panel of my microwave this entire time?

Eight loads of laundry to fold? BEEP!

Trying to figure out how to balance your work and home life? BEEP!

On the exit 4 off ramp and other motorists are swerving all around you because your car won't go? BEEP!

Dull, lifeless hair? BEEP!

Liberal? BEEP!

The solution to everything! And it was right there this whole time. So, I tried it. You know, pushing the button. Here's the little mental monologue that I had:

Me, pausing as I walk past the microwave because something has caught my eye: "HELP, it says. Sweet! Don't mind if I do."


"Huh. I don't feel as though I've been helped in any way. Strange."


"Hmm. I still have cracks on my heels, an outrageous phone bill, and four children running in circles around/on my feet."

I guess my happy discovery wasn't as happy as I thought. I made other discoveries this week. I know you're simply salivating to know what a stay-at-home mom has discovered this week. Well, buckle your seat belts.

1. I don't work. This is something that society has already told me, but was reinforced this week when I called my local State Farm agent to see if they could save me any money on my auto insurance (they couldn't, a sad discovery). After telling the agent my drivers license number, blood type, shampoo type, and everything else she asked, "And do you work?" I hesitated, cringed, and then hesitated again before telling her that I don't work.

And I hated every second of it.

Every time someone asks me that question I want to launch into a twenty minute lecture about how staying at home with children actually is work (hence daycare workers requiring compensation), but I rarely do. Anyway, the important thing is the discovery: I don't work! Ha ha ha ha ha! I immediately began performing a little leprechaun dance all over my driveway. I am the luckiest girl in the world! I kicked my feet up, ordered Macey to bring me some kind of drink with an umbrella in it, and asked Chancho to give me a foot rub. I figure, if I'm not working I'm going to make the most of it.

2. Kids have stinky feet, too. I took Macey and Olivia to a tumbling class today to see if it might be something they'd enjoy, or at least would wear them out. One little room. Eight little kids. Sixteen rotten, smelly little feet.

3. I can't crochet. I tried it this week for the second time in my life. The results were the same as the first time: tangled wad of yarn, crochet hook to the eyeball, curse words. I've decided that crocheting is one of those spiritual gifts that is given to some. I was not given the gift of crochet. I was given the gifts of sarcasm, correct spelling, and accidentally saying things that are really offensive. And I'm running with it.

And those are my discoveries.


Friday, January 14, 2011


Before I start, I should warn everyone that I started a diet this week. I am hungry. I am grumpy. I'm eating 1700 calories a day, which is not enough. My body reminds me of this fact roughly every ten minutes.

"Eat something. See that banana? Eat it!" my body says.

"No. We're on a diet, and I already had a banana. Don't worry, for lunch in three hours we're going to have a tiny fajita with no cheese or sour cream," I tell my body.

Five minutes later

My body: "Ooo! You know what would be awesome? A Chocodile."

Me: "Nope. And I don't even know where to buy a Chocodile. We're just going to have a tall glass of water to curb the craving."

Me, after chugging a tall glass of water: "That sucked."

My body: "Red Vines! Beef jerky! Cinnamon roll! Something with layers and layers of melted cheese!"

Me: "I don't like you."

So anyway, I'm on the Grouch Diet and DJ keeps using my glass. I try to use the same drinking glass throughout the day; just doing my part to conserve water. I always put my glass in the same spot: on the counter to the left of the sink. Never on the back of the sink by the faucet, because that's where DJ always puts his glass, even though he never reuses it. (You know how therapists tell you that nobody "always" or "never"s? Bologna. DJ always puts his glass that he never reuses on the back of the sink.) So, I go to get a glass of water to curb my Nutella craving and I notice that my glass is on the back of the sink. So I get a new glass. I drink my nasty desert water and place my glass on the counter to the left of the sink.

A few hours later, I reach for my glass to find that it has mysteriously moved to the back of the sink next to three other glasses. So I get a new new glass. This process repeats eight times until we run out of glasses and move on to the mugs and I'm ready to carve my eyeballs out with a spork.

1700 calories. You know how many Double Stuf Oreos that is? According to the calculator on my phone it's 24.29 Oreos. That's like eight Oreos per meal. That sounds like a lot, but trust me. Trust me. It's not.

In closing, a little game that my friend Naomi started that I thought was a fun idea:

I promise to send something handmade to the first 3 people who leave a comment here. To be eligible, you must also post this in your blog, offering the same thing to 3 other people. The rules are that it must be handmade by you and it must be sent to your 3 people *sometime* in 2011.

And some mildly amusing pictures of my kiddos:

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

How to Save the World

Is it a bad omen that I've procrastinated making my New Year's resolutions?

I keep thinking, "I'd better hurry up and make some goals that I have no immediate plan to accomplish." For four days the guilt has weighed heavily on me.

Today as I sat in my car waiting for school to get out, with nothing to read but Love in the Time of Cholera, I decided that enough was enough. So, I wrote some goals in this tiny spiral notebook that I keep in my purse.

Here they are, not in order of importance:

1. Actually return my Netflix DVDs instead of letting them sit in my purse for two months.

2. Stop accidentally falling asleep on the Lovesac and then stumbling into the bedroom at two o'clock in the morning.

3. Never again make the mistake of buying one-ply toilet paper.


I guess that's as far as I got.

I've been thinking about this for at least a few minutes now, and I've decided on one New Year's resolution that will make all other resolutions hang their heads in shame. Like, all of the other resolutions will sit around and gossip about how smug my resolution is and how they're sure that my resolution has had "work" done. Here it is:

Save the world.

Like my mission president taught us, "If you fail to plan, plan to fail." Or maybe that was from a fortune cookie. Either way, it's sound advice. Here's my plan for saving the world:

1. Buy a cape and a unitard.

2. Learn to fly.

3. Be a good mom.

I think that about covers it. Maybe I'll just work on being a good mom, and if I happen upon a unitard on the clearance rack at Target, so be it.

P.S. Have I mentioned how I dislike the snow and the cold? Can we speed up this global warming process? I drive a Tahoe. I buy Chilean grapes. I'm doing my part. Come on, everyone! This is a goal I am positive that we can accomplish if we all pitch in!