The Circle of Life

I should be cleaning my house right now but instead I've decided to bring a little joy into your lives by sharing these humiliating pictures of my children. Because people love it when other people humiliate themselves! I would attach an embarrassing picture of myself but my parents have all of them. Now I'm the mom of my family and I've assumed that responsiblity for my children. It's the circle of life. On with the humiliation.

Exhibit A: Here we have Olivia on the couch in a coma, her Super Girl costume up around her armpits, displaying her Elmo underpants in all of their glory. Don't you miss that part of being a kid--sleeping wherever and whenever you dang well feel like it? I do. I also miss the days when my main responsibility was not getting into trouble.

Exhibit B: Here is baby DJ in his swimming cap, which he found amongst our swimming stuff the other day. He made me put it on him and then refused to take it off for the rest of the day. [Insert your Orange Supremacy joke here.] It's probably not appropriate to make Orange Supremacy jokes, especially on Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, but only one other thing comes to mind and I'm attempting to keep this blog family-friendly. So get your mind out of the gutter, sicko.

P.S. If you're truly desperate for a humiliating Elise picture, just scroll down a bit until you see a picture of me in full hunting gear, posing with a big dead elk head. I still can't believe I put that on here.

The Perfect Mother

Okay, so he's not eating ham in the bathtub but check this out. This is Chancho giving himself a bath in the kid's bathroom sink. Notice how he had the sense to remove his pants but not his socks, hoodie, or diaper. He's a thinker, this one! If I recall correctly I was cooking Sunday dinner when this happened, which leads me to this inescapable conclusion: the only sure way to keep my kids out of serious danger would be to follow them around the house every waking hour, like that maid on the Jetsons. This has got me thinking. What combination of traits would constitute the PERFECT mother? Here's my list. Feel free to add your own.

1. Unfailing attentiveness, like the Jetsons maid, only without the barrel-shaped head. It would be nice to have wheels for feet, though. Imagine grocery shopping on those babies!

2. Emeril's cooking skills.

3. Chris Hanson's ability to sniff out sexual predators.

4. You'd need all of Martha Stewart's craftiness, for sure.

5. Energy and endurance of Ultramarathon man Dean Karnazes.

6. Thomas S. Monson's spiritual insight.

7. Must haves: Wonder Woman's Lasso of Truth and bullet-deflecting bracelets. As a sidenote, I wish my legs looked like that. And those boots ROCK.

8. Obviously you'd have to be ASE certified.

9. Crazy kung fu fighting skills. Like a beardless Chuck Norris.

10. Amelia Earhart's bravery, but maybe a better sense of direction.

11. The ability the hear people's thoughts like Edward Cullen.

12. Since we're talking Twilight... Stephenie Meyer's ability to write best-selling novels while staying at home with her children, thus making millions of dollars to help support her family.

It's definitely not a comprehensive list, but I think you get the idea. The perfect mother would have smoldering liquid amber eyes, wheels for feet, and a pilot's license. That about sums it up. That's how I feel, some days, for sure.

Why TV is Bad and Some Other Stuff, by Elise Haynes

First, the Other Stuff:
Here is a picture of us in the snow. It snowed in St. George. I am not a fan of the snow. I would like to gift wrap all of the snow that we have received in the last two weeks and mail it to president-elect Obama. And that's all I have to say about that.

Here is a sample of the dialog from our family dinner about a week before Christmas:
DJ: "What did you girls do today?"
Olivia: "We went Christmas shopping at the Bambi store (Sportsman's Warehouse)and bought a puzzle for you."
Me: "We didn't buy you a puzzle. Seriously, we didn't buy a puzzle for you."
Macey (whispering loudly to me): "Yes we did, Mom!" Merry Christmas, DJ.

Now, Why TV is Bad:

I feel like I always confess to my blog. Today is no exception. In the above photograph you see my three children and my niece, Annie Bananie, in their bathing suits in my bathtub eating ham straight from the package and laughing about it. Naughtiness. So here's the confession: my brother-in-law loaned us the first four seasons of the tv show "24" and one thing led to another...yada yada yada... I found the kids in the bathtub with the ham. I blame television for my bad parenting. With the exception of this one year period in which I was addicted to The Office, I am not a huge TV watcher. We don't have cable. But I cannot stop watching stupid 24. So there you have it, everyone, I am not as perfect as you suspected.

We are rednecks, as it turns out. Huh.

Just to prove that we're still alive I am writing this brief post and I'm even going to attach a picture as evidence that we haven't headed for the hills or anything. That was one gigantic run-on sentence, huh? Well, it's late. I just spent the last hour and a half folding laundry that has been clean for at least five days. I made venison for dinner. And when I was at the fabric store with my three children today (the definition of insanity) they tipped an entire shopping cart over sideways onto themselves. Things have been a little wacky over here. And here are the pictures to prove it. (This is me browsing through pictures to post.) Holy crap. We did head for the hills. We ate DEER for dinner. And I can't even explain that picture of me with the elk head, I just thought I should get that out in the open before DJ tries to use it to blackmail me. Speaking of blackmail, I'm pretty sure that our Christmas tree is a Blue Spruce. Our state tree. Thank goodness we cut it down in "Arizona", right? If the Christmas tree police come knocking on our door, I'm going to know who sent them because I think only three people read this blog. So don't even think about it. Welp, until next time...

Move over, Rachmaninov.

This is my little Schroeder in the making. Baby DJ loves to play the piano like neither of my girls ever have. I think it's the promise of loud noise without punishment. We'll see how long that lasts. Can't you just see the little microscopic naughtiness waves coming off of him in this picture? Here's what I guarantee you he was thinking, "well, this sure is fun, but do you know what would be really fun? Emptying the trash onto the kitchen floor! Or hiding more of my mom's make up! Or eating potting soil! Or splashing in the toilet!"

And the award for Most Hilarious Bum Shot goes to...

Who doesn't love free candy? Halloween is a big part of why I love America. I'm not really into the skeletons and witches and all of that, but free candy... come on! We had so much fun with our kids. Can't you see it on our faces? I think that looks says it all. Specifically it's saying, "IF YOU KIDS DON'T HOLD STILL, SO HELP ME...". And this was taken BEFORE any candy was consumed. We didn't take any after pictures because my kids were a totally unrecognizable blur of synthetic costume fabric and Smartie dust. I think you seasoned parents out there will immediately recognize mine and DJ's costumes. Exhausted Pregnant Mom and Exhausted Red Sox Fan. Classic, huh? I thought my ponytail and no mascara look were a nice touch. I really got into my character. I was totally nauseated the entire evening. I can't really take credit for the no mascara look, though. I gave my mascara to baby DJ to keep him busy one morning and I haven't seen it since.

And the award for Most Hilarious Bum Shot goes to Macey, who delighted her parents with this little display about every other house or so. My only regret is not sewing a little sign onto her heinie saying, "How's my trick or treating?" with a 1-800 number. That little fuzzy blob in the corner is my niece Annie who was dressed as a chicken and every time Macey would bend over to fix her boots (hence the repeated bum shots) Annie would try to steal her candy. All in all, I'd say the evening was a success, wouldn't you?

and the redneckiness continues...

Is it just me, or does everyone else spend more time chatting with long lost acquaintances at Walmart than they actually do shopping? Here's a list from this week, because I spent an unusually huge amount of time grocery shopping. (I don't want to talk about it.) Here's the list-- my senior year English teacher, my bishop from when I was a teenager, my visiting teaching companion, three people who were in wards that I have since moved out of, my actual MOM, and this one's my absolute favorite--I ran into the lady that teaches the spin class that I've been going to in the COOKIE AISLE! That's right. I said, "hey lady, you can pretend you don't know me, but we both know what you're doing here. I know what I'm doing here." And then I put my my one week supply of Oreos (two boxes) in the cart and walked away without another word.



A little sidenote: Here's what I'd like to happen one of these times: I would love it if I would run into my visiting teaching companion, and then while we're chatting have the people who we visit magically walk past. Wouldn't that be the BEST? I'm totally going to start taking my Ensign to Walmart just in case.



And I don't even LIKE Walmart. Every time I shop at there I swear I'll never go back but the Always Low Prices get me every time. I can't stand it. Sometimes when I'm feeling saucy I'll go to Albertson's and use my Aunt Cathy's phone number to get her Preferred Savings discount. And then the other day (confession time) I was awarded a 5% Off Your Next Shopping Trip coupon for having attained so many shopping points on my aunt's card. Now I have a moral dilemma. Do I do the "honest" thing and give my aunt her coupon, or do I do the "crappy niece" thing and use the coupon for my selfish self? It might save me a trip to Walmart. On the other hand, being honest might get me into heaven. Like I said, Moral Dilemma. What I'll probably do is give the coupon to my aunt and just suck it up and go to Walmart so that I can get caught up on my visiting teaching.

P.S. DJ got me a camera for my birthday! As soon as I figure out how to get the pictures from the camera to the cord to the computer and then finally to the blog, you will all see how much we haven't changed.

P.P.S. I haven't been going to spin class in the cookie aisle, my spin class instructor was in the cookie aisle. This is why I will never write for the New York Times.

I've got friends in low places...

You may have been wondering where all of the pictures have gone. I know I have. My camera is broken, folks! Nothing to see here! Literally! So anyhoo, I've been subtley hinting to DJ that I would like a new camera for my birthday. I'm not sure whether he's caught on yet. I may have to do the unthinkable and actually ask for one. Yikes. Here's what made me think of this, though-- I was scrolling down through my blog and I noticed with alarm that a lot of my more recent pictures, which I ripped off of the internet, are a tad REDNECK for my taste. That's right... REDNECK. And it got me thinking...am I a redneck? ARE WE REDNECKS?! I broke into a cold sweat. There's a picture of my unshaven husband posing with a "monster elk", a PREGNANT BELLY, a wrecked minivan... How did I let this happen?!


So here's what I'm thinking. I'm going to compose a little list here of our non-redneck qualities to see if I can give myself a little comfort. We'll see. Here goes, wish me luck.


1. I like to play classical music on the piano, especially Chopin.

2. My family listens to me play Chopin on the piano. Kind of against their will, but whatever.

3. We live in a subdivision in which we are not allowed to have cars on blocks on our lawn.

4. We wear shoes most of the time.

5. I have never seen DJ in a sweat-stained white tank top. Thank heavens.

6. I only have a few country music CDs but they are the good ones.*

7. While I do enjoy a good rodeo, I have no idea what is going on most of the time.

8. We all smell fairly decent. Right?

9. We don't have an accent. Except for DJ, who insists on saying theater "theATE-r".**

10.We can't sing "Eighteen Wheels and a Dozen Roses" by heart (okay, maybe the chorus).

11. I am a terrible bowler.


12. We get our workout at the gym. Not tipping cows.


13. To the right you'll see a picture of the barbershop quartet that DJ paid to sing to me for Valentines Day. Note that they are wearing actual tuxedos. Disregard the handlebar mustache. (It was the classiest picture I could find. It was either this or something from Disneyland.)



I'm not even going to go into a list of our redneck qualities because I'm sure it would frighten me. Not that there's anything wrong with being a redneck. I'm sure they are nice people. Just like I'm sure there are plenty of nice Wells Fargo customer service representatives. They are out there...somewhere.


So my birthday in is a week or so. Here's hoping that I get a nice shiny camera so that I can document how classy we are in real life.


*Garth Brooks Greatest Hits

**He also says the word sit "set". It's cute. His mom did it, too.

What's in a name?

1.YOUR ROCK STAR NAME (first pet, current car): Bubbles Tahoe
2. YOUR GANGSTA STAR NAME (favorite ice cream flavor, favorite type of shoe): Chubby Hubby Flip Flop
3. YOUR NATIVE AMERICAN NAME (favorite color, favorite animal): Red Duck
4. YOUR SOAP OPERA NAME (middle name, city where you were born): Elise Salt Lake
5. YOUR STAR WARS NAME (first three letters of your last name, first two letters of your first name): Hayel
6. SUPERHERO NAME (2nd favorite color, favorite drink): Yellow Cherry Limeade Generic Brand Crystal Light
7. NASCAR NAME (the names of your grandfathers): Willis John or John Willis
8. TV WEATHER ANCHOR NAME (your 5th grade teacher's last name, a major city that starts with the same letter): Smith Sacramento
9. SPY NAME (your favorite season/holiday, favorite flower): Summer Wildflowers
10. CARTOON NAME (favorite fruit, article of clothing you are wearing right now): Watermelon Stained T-shirt
11. HIPPIE NAME (what you ate for breakfast, your favorite tree): Kashi Sycamore

Copy and paste it. Everyone needs a laugh once an a while.

Life comes at you fast...

So I was at the park with my three kids enjoying the sunshine and the perfect temperature this morning. It really was perfect-- the sky was clear, the sun was shining, 73 degrees. My kids weren't whining. Aahhh... In between making sure DJ didn't fall down the stairs and Macey didn't sit on anyone, I turned around to see this mysterious '93 Honda Accord (I'm pretty sure it was a '93 because my first car was a '92 and they are almost identical, also I am an automotive expert) creeping down the shoulder of the road suspiciously. "Suspicious," I thought to myself, so I kept an eye on it. I don't know how long I was watching the car before I finally realized that there wasn't actually anyone driving it. Once I realized it, the car was also gaining momentum and heading into traffic so I began yelling, "HEY! Whose car is that?!" People were looking at me like I was insane. Cars were swerving out of the way of the driverless Honda. I continued yelling "WHOSE CAR IS THAT?!" and people continued to look at me like I was nuts. Until they heard the crash. The car had rolled down the block and into a Dodge Durango that was parked at the rec center on the opposite side of the street. "Bummer," I thought to myself as I pictured the poor lady who was probably in the rec center, running on the treadmill, thinking about buying herself a new outfit when she was done. That's just bad luck, huh?

Last week I felt just like the owner of that Durango. Life comes at you fast. I took a pregnancy test on Wednesday, for the usual reason. DJ and I were doing what we could to prevent a new baby from joining our family, if you catch my drift, but I took the test anyway just to be sure. Just be sure because we had already decided that we weren't quite ready for another baby, even though we wanted one. So we were going to wait a little while. And everyone in heaven is laughing at us right now. (I think this is a common theme for us.) I still cannot believe that that second pink line showed up. One minute I was making lunch, wondering what was going to be on the next episode of The Office, and the next minute I was yelling, "what the hey?!" and thinking about how I will possibly take four kids to the grocery store, the oldest of whom will only be five. Thinking, "that's why I've been craving pepper jack cheese!" Thinking about having yet another c-section, how I will chase after three other kids in the meantime, how I REALLY need to get serious about potty training Olivia. And then I thought about it some more. I am so totally excited! I LOVE babies! Sure, they turn into two-year-olds eventually, but they are so cute and soft and sweet before that! I'll sleep when I'm in my thirties-- I can handle another baby right now!

So now a week has gone by and I've had a chance to let the idea become reality. I can smell everything (including the cigarette smoke of the person two cars away from me), every calorie I eat is clinging to my body like a plecostomus, and I feel like I'm dragging soggy beach towels around with me on my feet. I'm pregnant! Only seven and a half months to go!