...and it is hot, the end.

For our summer-long trip to Dallas I brought along four or five of those giant tupperware bins full of items that we use every day and left the rest of our junk at home. Our bins contained things like dishes, clothing, towels, my Seinfeld DVDs, et cetera. The essentials. That's it.

For the most part, I don't miss our junk. I don't have to step on toys, dust any tchotchkes, or anything like that. It makes for a nice summer vacation. However, it turns out that while some items are not essential, they are quite handy. Like what? you ask. Here are a few examples:

Toys. Desperate for toys earlier this week, Macey and Olivia resorted to filling grocery bags with MORE grocery bags, drawing faces on them, and using them as dolls. They named them Niblets. I don't know why.

Matches. In the above photograph you'll see me (trying to) light Tess's birthday candle on a glowing burner. I melted wax all over my stove and the closest we came to ignition was when I singed all of the hair off of my right hand. You can see from the crowd gathered around me that it was the highlight of the party.

Finally, cake pans/cake decorating supplies. Poor Tess. No day-glow pink horse cakes for her. Because I felt guilty, and I was craving them, I made two cakes for Tess to make up for it--a Texas sheet cake (which seemed both appropriate and delicious) and a Better Than Se..., I mean, Wubbies cake. Tess didn't seem to care. Frankly, I'm not sure whether she even knew it was her birthday. She was just happy to eat cake, like her mother before her.

That other picture up there is of my kids and their cousin Ashley posing under one of the Mustangs of Las Colinas. I dragged everyone there on Tess's birthday because I felt bad about sitting by the pool every other day. There were large mustang statues. It was super hot. We had to go swimming to cool off.

The end.

P.S. If anyone out there has ever used the Blogger Droid app and knows how to insert pictures into the text, please let me know. Signed, Technologically Handicapped in Dallas

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Atrocities Committed Against the American People

We (the kids, my sister Marianne, and I) committed our first obligatory act of tourism yesterday. We drove to downtown Dallas and viewed the John F. Kennedy Memorial.

It was interesting, hot, and kinda sad, all at the same time. In the picture with my sister you'll notice the grassy knoll and the section of highway where President Kennedy was killed. What you CAN'T see in either picture was the fast-talking street hustler who wanted us to pay him for his unsolicited five minute tour of the area, most of which I didn't understand since my ebonics is sorta rusty. I've decided that downtown Dallas is an area where atrocities must always be committed against the American people--from Lee Harvey Oswald, to street hustlers, to having to pay $10 to park in a crowded lot for one hour.

In other news, I am writing from this fandangled phone that DJ bought for me. I'm typing with my giant hot dog fingers on this tiny little touch screen. (Is this what giants feel like every day?! It's terrible. Let's make our world more giant-friendly.) Cross your fingers, I'm about to hit "publish."

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Fernandooooo!

I cannot blog when I have an Abba song stuck in my head, I'm going to need some help here. Just sing along and maybe we can clear my mind long enough for me to tell y'all about our move to Texas. If you don't know the words, it's okay. I'm sure Carrie will sing loud enough to drown you out. Ready, ladies and any men (who might for some reason be reading this)? Got your blue eye shadow? Your bell bottoms? Your fear of communism? (Or was that the sixties? Like I said, Abba. It's messing with my mind.) Grab a wooden spoon, a hair dryer, or whatever you use when you're pretending to be a 1970s Swedish pop star and you don't have a mic handy. Let's do this.

There was something in the air that night! The stars were bright, Fernando! They were shining there for you and me! For leeeeberty! Fernando! Though we never thought that we could lose, there's no regret...If I had to do the same again! I would my friend! Fernandoooo!

Ugh. It's not working. Thanks for the valiant effort, ladies. We gave it our best. Now I'll probably die with "Fernando" stuck in my head.

So...we moved to Texas over the weekend. Dallas, to be precise. We drove here, but I will spare you the details of that twenty-one hour drive that took us thirty-four hours. Two interesting highlights: my gas tank sprung a leak along the way and we ate at Sonic on three separate occasions. [Sidenote: I think I may have found a cheeseburger that I love more than In 'n Out's animal-style one. Sonic's Blazin' BBQ burger. Fried jalapenos. BBQ sauce. Pepperjack cheese. Bacon. More jalapenos. (Sidenote to the sidenote: I can't figure out why my pants are getting tighter....) It's heaven on a bun. End sidenotepalooza.]

We got to Dallas on Friday night. I'm not sure where the last five days have gone. We've been swimming in the pool. Sleeping in. Whipping Marianne and Frank at SceneIt. Dodging hailstones the size of cocker spaniels (now I've got Mom's attention!) (I love you, Mom!). For real. DJ was out working last night when the tornado sirens started blaring. And then came the hail....

His trusty little born-again van was pounded by baseball-sized hail. It totally destroyed the windshield. The windshield wipers look like they got chewed up by a wild pack of cocker spaniels (hi, Mom!). The roof is all dented. And my sources tell me that both DJ and my brother-in-law, Casey, screamed like little girls the whole time. (I took a picture of the smashed windshield. I'm trying to be patient while it uploads, but it's taking forever. I suppose this is what I get for stealing Monna's internet. She's probably over at her apartment yelling at the red Netflix "Loading" screen right now.)

Today was perfectly sunny and 94 degrees, but with the humidity it felt exactly like wading through a giant pot of cream of mushroom soup. We spent about three hours at the pool this afternoon. We ate two cantaloupes for dinner and that brings us to the present. Stay tuned, folks. I'm sure tomorrow is going to be even more action-packed.

Can you hear the drums, Fernando? I remember long ago another starry night like this...in the firelight, Fernandoooo! You were humming to yourself and softly strumming your guitar....

(aaaand...we're still uploading. To heck with it, I'm going to bed. Maybe you'll get to see DJ's shattered windshield next time, guys. Sorry. I'm tired. "Fernando" and I are going to bed.)

Transitive Property

Guys. The Universe is conspiring against me again. I don't know what I did when I was a teenager to bring upon myself this magnitude of bad karma, nevertheless...I am now orange. Thanks, Universe, I owe you one. (Or we're even. I guess I don't really get this whole karma thing.)

Let me explain. It was 11:30 last night, the children had finally fallen asleep, I ran on the treadmill, took a bath and was slathering myself in a new bottle of sunless tanning lotion when Olivia trudged in and announced that she had experienced a catastrophe of the sort that requires midnight showering and laundry. (My favorite! Thanks, Universe!) I blatantly disregarded the warnings on the back of the tanning lotion bottle that remind you to wash your hands immediately after lotion application in favor of cleaning up my hysterical daughter.

Twenty minutes later I washed the tanning lotion off of my hands and feet. Apparently I was twenty minutes too late, because...

(Hot dang!) When I awoke this morning to my fancy new fluorescent orange epidermis, I just couldn't get this song out of my head. Fortunately, it's been a lifelong dream of mine to work in a candy factory with a chocolate river and Gene Wilder. Or just have access Fizzy Lifting Drink! I think I may have my "in." So HA, Universe. Sigh.

Speaking of Oompa Loompas...

Tess got six shots at the doctor's office today. At least, I think that guy was a doctor. I don't know. Six shots?! What part of the Hippocratic Oath encompasses plunging a steel needle into the tender, chubby flesh of a two-year-old SIX times?!

To put it mildly, Tess was not pleased. Through the whole shot-giving process Olivia and Chancho wrassled around the exam room and made noises that should really be reserved for farm animals. So we had oxen braying, Tess screaming, and me playing the part of the human straight jacket. I guess I'll be glad when Tess doesn't get rubella or hepatitis or whatever. I guess.

And then we got home and Olivia vomited all over my bed. (Has anyone else noticed how many of my stories conclude with one of my children regurgitating their food onto my furniture or my car or the McDonald's Playplace?) This led me to cancel my night out with my sisters-in-law, which led to me comfort-eating half a pan of brownies, which will lead to me getting enormously fat.

From what I recall about transitive property from when I took algebra fourteen years ago and got a C-, if I get fat it will be because of The Universe.

A Very Mindy Mother's Day

Because I know there will come a day when Tess no longer follows me around the house wrapping her arms around my knees and whining "hold!" until I pick her up, I dedicate the following song to my children:




And for this lady...

...another Mindy Gledhill song. For some reason this song reminds me of my mom. Maybe it's the piano. My mom was really nice not to laugh at me when I was learning to play the piano. She was also really nice to not yell at me when I played the same Scott Joplin song over and over and over ad nauseum until I finally got it right. That's true motherly love.


Happy Mother's Day, mom! I love you!

Info Dump

Summer

Popsicles. Sunburn. Fresh fruit that isn't apples or oranges, like cantaloupe. Drinking from the hose. Spraying your sister with the hose. Spraying the hose into the house. Your mom yelling at you for spraying the hose into the house. Never having to wear footwear, but if you must, let it be one oversized sock pulled all the way up to your knee (Tess). Reading books on the lawn. The yummy smell of warm, wet concrete. (Why does warm, wet concrete smell so wonderful?!) Summmmmmmer....

Sunday

Is it really a day of rest? Since DJ's been in Dallas for the last three or so weeks, I've developed a new respect for single parents who attend Sacrament meeting with their children. For our family, it's kind of a three-ring circus act. In one ring you have Macey and Olivia elbowing each other, coloring, and talking to their friend Megan in the pew behind us. In the next ring you have Chancho asking in his outside (outside and on a rollercoaster) voice if I will make a paper airplane for him while simultaneously stealing Tess's Cheerios and spilling the crayons everywhere. In our final ring we have Tess, who wants to be held only as long as I allow her to repeatedly bang her cabeza into my clavicle. If she is not being held, her activities of choice include ripping pages from the hymnal and yelling nonsense words.
This performance goes on for an hour and ten minutes and is followed by two hours of me entertaining six Sunbeams one-woman-band-style.
That's a lot of numbers and what they all add up to is obviously the church is true. Why else would a sane person do that to herself every Sunday?

Dallas

I'm moving there in approximately eleven days. A few things I'm looking forward to about Dallas: 1. DJ, 2. Chipotle, 3. Chick Fil A, 4. Six Flags, 5. Sleeping in, 6. Maybe seeing a tornado.

Olivia

She graduated from Kindergarten on Tuesday. Olivia inherited my charming propensity to look perturbed when she's nervous in social situations. She's so, so shy. On one hand it's sweet (especially because she's generally very quiet) and on the other hand I remember middle school all too well. Anyway, here's a clip of her doing her speaking part. I used my new fandangled phone to shoot this video. Obviously the phone is winning.

She inherited my shyness but not my fear of falling off of stuff:

And she has a little Rapunzel thing going on:

Finally, Tess

She's going through a running away phase. If the door opens she's off like a rocket and I have to pull her out of our neighbors' trees. I'm trying not to let it hurt my feelings.

Amazing Technicolor Dreamcake

For her birthday Macey requested "a yellow cake with pink frosting and horses on top." Forgive the momentary breach in humility, but...
I'm pretty sure I nailed it. (And if any of you are even considering sending this picture to Cake Wrecks, remember two things: I am not a professional and please include my URL. Carry on.)


Horses? Check. Fluorescent pink frosting? Check. Yellow inside? Check again. I am so awesome, I can't stand it. Or that's the giant bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream talking. Something must be causing these humility breaches.

I love the following picture for so many reasons. One, Macey looks like she really takes this birthday wish thing seriously. Two, my aunt Mary. She's the blonde gal sitting behind Macey. Look at that smile. Ever since I was a kid I've been told that I look like my aunt Mary. Whether or not I look like her, I hope that I act like her. She's pretty much always happy, no matter what. I need to be more like that.
[Insert segue here.]

You know what I've really been enjoying lately (I mean, besides peanut butter filled chocolate cupcakes)? Running on the treadmill. My friend Jenn, the person who is basically the genesis for all of my good ideas (hi, Jenn!), gave me the idea to prop our travel DVD player on top of the treadmill while I run.

Let me tell you, this has revolutionized my running. Sometimes, I still have to plug my iPod into one of my ears, though. I like to triple-task. Run, watch movies, listen to music. If I could work in eating a chocolate cupcake it would be the ultimate recreational activity. (This reminds me of someone.)