This needs to be my next purchase.
Monday, May 31, 2010
We had 2 families over for dinner yesterday - sooo many children…. I think I’ll recover some time next month. It was a lovely time though, you’re always a little closer with someone you’ve “broken bread” with, as my mom would say.
We don’t have a whole lot in common with either couple - oh, except the one guy who was born the same EXACT DAY as Husband, went to BYU at the same time, had jobs at not one, but TWO of the same places there, and both went on Portuguese-speaking missions. And didn’t meet each other until they moved here - how’s that for freaky??
Anywho, all the ladies are doing the stay-at-home mom gig, but each in our own way, I suppose. This was quite obvious after dinner… we sat in the living room all talking, except for Husband, who was in the kitchen putting things away. At one point one of the moms turned to me and asked incredulously - “Reva, why is your Husband in the kitchen, on his knees, cleaning the floor??”
“Um… because something spilled on the floor?” I said. Husband looked up. “There was some gunk on the floor,” he called.
She didn’t say anything, just looked surprised. I must admit, so was I, but at her. Husband thought about it - “Hon, did you make any of the dinner?” Hrm… aside from cutting some potatoes and mixing the powdered lemondade, it was all him.
“He cooks?” she asked. I laughed.
“You haven’t tasted my cooking, but you do NOT want to.” Heck, when she gave birth a few weeks ago and I was signed up to come bring a meal, I brought frozen pizzas. It was the compassionate choice, really. “He’s a much better cook,” I said. She was just in shock…. something tells me her husband doesn’t - although it might be her fault, she’s a decent cook. It’s a matter of surival in our house.
The evening went on, but I kept thinking about it. I am quite the lucky woman. My dad’s idea of making food is to find whatever he can in the kitchen and put it on some bread with whatever condiment will make it stick on. Mostly mustard. I have seen Cheerios involved as well. Husband’s dad makes far more edible fare. And his whole family has this thing where if they see someone struggling - they HAVE to jump in and fix it. So, because I am such a klutz in the kitchen especially when quests are coming over, he doesn’t say anything, he just steps in and does it. I don’t take it for granted - I am quite aware it is AWESOME.
Her incredulity was high-larious though. Husband HAS to be awesome. The man has to eat.
Friday, May 28, 2010
I’m LDS (Mormon) and I’m used to being an oddity. A curiosity. I guess it’s because there aren’t many of us qnd there are lots of misconceptions out there so I’m constantly asked to clear things up for people. I don’t take offense at all - people are almost always respectful and I love who am I and what I believe, so I appreciate the opportunity to set the records straight so more people can understand us. That being said, sometimes people surprise me.
Twice a month I go to a mother’s group hosted at a local Baptist church. The kiddos play in a nursery, the moms eat and have nifty speakers, and also get the chance to speak to another live adult for possibly the only time that day. It’s kind of thrilling. And, being that there are only 2 families in this entire town that are LDS, I’m the first Mormon most of the moms have ever met . So I wasn’t taken aback when one of the moms leaned in yesterday and asked me if I would answer a personal question.
“Did you and your husband.. you know.. before you got married?” When I said no, her eyes were as big as dinner plates. “You mean… you guys were each other’s first??” Yeah, so?
“Oh my… GUYS! You have to hear this!” Now the entire table was listening. “Did you know she and her husband didn’t.. you know… before they got married??” Now everyone was looking at me like I had 3 heads. “What?? Why??” they all said.
“Well, um… it’s an important tennant of our religion - we really try to follow the scriptures, that part included. It’s not that rare….” I’m thinking - I’m at a church, don’t most churches believe this? It’s in the Bible, right?
The reaction was split - some were incredulous, and some actually moved seats away from me and announced they didn’t belong anywhere near me because they were “sluts.” I’m serious.
“I don’t think that!” I told them. “It’s all part of this life to come and make choices for yourselves, right? Well, that was my choice.”
But nothing I said mattered anymore. They were all discussing how they could never be like me and how I was so goody-goody, they were afraid to be near me, and they’d never met anyone who’d “waited”. I’ve known these people all year, and suddenly because of that I’m a weirdo? I’m weird for far more reasons that that. I wasn’t offended, but mostly confused. I was in a church, and I’m being looked at like a circus freak for following a commandment??
I wondered… there were girls at the table that had gotten married because they’d been pregnant, and when I learned that, I didn’t start freaking out and announce “Hey everybody! Did you know they weren’t virgins when they got married???” But the choice to wait is open for freaking? I repeat, I wasn’t offended, just… it’s so not that big of a deal. Maybe I hang out with too many Mormons, but all my close friends had the goal to wait, and did. Heck, my best friend who is Hindu waited too.
Thinking about it more, I don’t really see myself as a “goody goody” kind of person, but it’s not a bad thing. If that’s the label I get for trying to live what I believe, then I’ll take it. Heck, I’ve been called worse things anyway :)
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Inspired by Allyson’s last post, here is a gem of an entry from March 15th, 2001. Remember, I was but a wee lass of 20 *ahem, I stand corrected - 21* at the time.
So yesterday M and I were flipping through the channels on the tube when we somehow rested on the Home Shopping Network. Same with the Christian channel, I think it’s hilarious to see these people in action. You know, the personalities pushing that stuff on the Home Shopping Network are alot like the people preaching on the Trinity network-thingy.
*disclaimer - I am all about religion and am an active member of the “mormon” church - but dude, you know those people in those glass cathedrals are just FUNNY*
So anywho, they were selling this big Flamingo pin that you are supposed to wear on your blazer - tackytackytacky!! The body of the flamingo was pink saphires and the rest was gold, siver and cubic zirconia or something. Funny, crappy stuff you see grandmas wear.
but wait - they were selling it for 800 DOLLARS!!!!! We almost died - DUDE, $800 for THAT?? I was so tempted to call them, and call I did.
her: “Hello and welcome to the Home Shopping Network - What product number are you interested in?”
me: “6783^&%*&^” (whatever it was)
her: ” Would you like to know some pertinent information regar-“
me: “No, I was just wondering if anyone has actually BOUGHT it.”
her: “excuse me??”
me: “I’m sorry, I’m a poor college student, but if I had 800 bucks I could NOT spend it on something that - ” *now M and I laughing so hard I can’t finish myself*
her: “Giiirl - we sell stuff like that all the time for MORE. You wouldn’t believe the junk these old ladies buy. Yeah, we’ve sold a few today.”
me: “*laughing hystericaly in the phone* that is the UGLIEST thing I have ever seen for 800 bucks…. I just needed to know if there were actually saps out there - thanks.”
her: “um… have a pleasant day and thank you for using the Home Shopping Network.”
well then…. on that note, off to a Concerto Literature midterm.
SUPERCRACK FEELS SMRRRRTT!!!!!
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
The fact that I have not dressed the Dude up like this yet escapes me. Anyone want to help me get the outfit together? I just need to borrow some sweeeaaaaatsssss. Because sometimes, a baby needs to wear stretchy pants.
Okay, I could pretty much do that all day long.
Monday, May 24, 2010
Almost a year ago we dragged him down to Atlanta to meet a girl who we thought was just perfect for him. And when I went to check on him before he went on his first date, I found him wearing this. When I questioned his fashion sense, sweet brother looked at me like I had 3 heads. The silly conventions of this world have never held much for him. This is a large part of why we all adore him.
And I don’t think the girl minded his wardrobe choice either.
She’s marrying him next month in the Denver temple.
I’m so excited my head could just explode!!!!!
I’m totally overwhelmed with the recipe response!! You guys are incredible!! The comment section is like GOLD and I even got some fantastic e.mails chock full of recipes and ideas. Have no fear, I’m putting it all together in one awesome entry for y’all. 2 of the e.mails include word docs with cookbooks for recipes (Thanks Chelsea and Gabby!) and if you want them, just let me know and I’ll e.mail them right off to you.
It stinks that I’m such a food moron, but it’s awesome to have friends who are soooo not :) I LOVE you guys!!
Friday, May 21, 2010
So it’s common knowledge that I am a terrible cook. I don’t have patience, know-how, or imagination. Husband can look in the cupboard and start concocting some crazy masterpiece, while I’m still staring at 8,000 items of food and saying “All we have are the ingredients for spaghetti!”
Now, there are some exceptions. I make killer fondue. Of course, all it is is throwing stuff in a pot and melting it, but I so have that down. I can make sushi, but that’s not cooking - it’s rolling mostly raw food. And when I have to make something fast because the missionaries are coming over, I can make one of 3 things:
1. Homemade mac and cheese. I RULE at this, mom taught me well.
2. Baked ziti. Except I use penne pasta instead of ziti, and all it is is tomato sauce with meat, mozzarella cheese and pasta, all stirred up and stuck in the oven for an hour. And it’s just an excuse for me to get french bread with it, and eat almost the entire loaf myself.
and 3. Tacos. That’s SUPER easy, it’s just putting toppings all out and letting people have at it. Except I use the Deceptively Delicious recipe where it’s 1 lb ground beef, a cup or so of purred carrot and a can of crushed tomatoes plus the taco seasoning. It’s DELISH. And easy. And we already had tacos twice this week.
Which brings me to the main issue, that I can’t keep making the same 3 things over and over, plus 2 of those are BAKED items. Who wants to spend summer in a house with the oven on??
That’s your cue, folks. What’s YOUR go-to recipe when you’re short on time? Perhaps something that’s impossible to screw up, although I’m sure I’d find a way to do that anyway? ;) If you dopn’t mind, I could put them all in one post and it could be the official OneBrickShy Cookbook. And I could add in my recipe for cheese waffles as a bonus. (Spoiler alert - it’s just throwing a handful of cheese on a George Foreman grill. Sounds disgusting, looks disgusting, tastes just plain sinful.) How can you say no to that???
Thursday, May 20, 2010
This edition of vintage blogging comes from September 18, 2006 and I titled it:
Funniest. Entry. Ever.
It involves a pregnant me trying to give a urine sample in Brasil. I know, I know, it’s oh-so-personal, but at the same, oh-so-unbelievably ridiculous. Read at your own risk, I’m putting a jump here so those who choose not to read it will not have their eyes sullied with such delicate matters. I mean it - especially if we are in-laws. It’s sooo not pretty. Enjoy, I know I most certainly did NOT!
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
I sparsely updated the sparsely updated family blog. I wouldn’t bring attention to it, except upon second watching, I have decided my rendition of the classic “Orange Blossom Special,” though not as flippin’ amazing as my younger brother could do, is not as hackneyed as I thought. I’m rusty, but still in the game.
The one true, hard and fast rule I have learned as a parent:
They never thow up just once.
Oh, they throw up and you lovingly clean them up and send them back to bed and think “Thank heavens that’s over!” But it is far from over, my friends.
We’re okay here, the puked-out girl is doing far better than the daddy who slept next to her on the floor to clean her up every 10 minutes last night. Just thought I’d share that tiny bit of wisdom.
Again, you’re welcome intrawebs.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Middle Child: mediator, compromising, diplomatic, avoids conflict, independent, loyal to peers, has many friends, a maverick, secretive, used to not having attention.
Youngest Child: manipulative, charming, blames others, attention seeker, tenacious, people person, natural salesperson, precocious, engaging, affectionate, loves surprises.
Only Child: little adult by age seven, very thorough, deliberate, high achiever, self-motivated, fearful, cautious, voracious reader, black-and-white thinker, talks in extremes, can’t bear to fail, has very high expectations for self, more comfortable with people who are older or younger.
Lastborn: friendly, easygoing, creative, observant, have diverse interests, take more risks, like to travel, liberal.
Where is the category for 3rd child, only girl in a sea of 3 brothers??? I demand answers!!
When our wagon gets stuck in the mud, God is much more likely to assist the man who gets out to push than the man who merely raises his voice in prayer—no matter how eloquent the oration….It’s in the doing, not just the thinking, that we accomplish our goals.
Perfect for a Monday, methinks.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Sometimes when I don’t blog, it’s because I’m just too busy living my wild and fabulous life. But mostly, it’s when I’m trying to censor myself. If I’m feeling overly emotional about something, there’s this teeny tiny little spot inside that says “wait - blog about it tomorrow. You might be more rational and less crazy-blunt then.” I’m serious, there really is a smidgeon of restraint in me! Mom, Husband, stop laughing!
I’ve just been all blobbery lately, as I’ve been feeling all sick and feeling I just don’t belong - not the best of combinations. It’s completely my fault, I’m doing everything wrong and I just can’t seem to get a rhythm right. It’s never easy being somewhere new, but I feel like I’m sticking out like a sore, crazy thumb more than usual.
Or, there are those people that I meet that I am amazed at, that I instantly seem to have a connection with, that I seem to have SO many things in common with, that, as I try to build a friendship, getting to know them, aspects of their life and their other friends, that I realize … this person doesn’t need me. That I don’t fit into any empty hole in their life that isn’t already filled by someone like me. Boy, is that disconcerting! We all like to feel unique, but it’s kinda hard to realize that there are others very much like you. AND, they met this person first. So what do I do? I try … but wonder why I should do all the trying? So it slips away, and you’re sad … and you are somewhat grateful because the friendship wasn’t that firmly rooted to begin with, so it’s easier to kinda let go. But part of you tells yourself (to feel better, of course), that there is something unique and special about you, and BOO on that person that didn’t take enough time to really delve.
Wow. What gets me is that moment where you look around and realize - this place got along fine before I got here, and will be just dandy after I leave - so where the heck do I fit now? I’m always just a bit off, not quite fitting in, and this is why. What a concept! I’m so glad for my blog-o-sphere friends to figure these things out for me :)
What I’ve got for now is, as hard as is is for my extrovertednessessessss, stop trying, stop calling and try to be a better me every day. Inflict less insanity on those around me. There’s a novel concept!
Deepness. You’re welcome, interwebs. ;)
Friday, May 14, 2010
The Dude’s teeth peeked through yesterday. It’s funny, he’s almost walking but held off on the chompers. I think WonderGirl was the same way. This morning I got to chat with my mom as she drove to work and WG just had to tell her all about the Dude’s tooth.
“He has teeth! In his mouth!”
What I was interesting with was that she said “teeth” and “mouth” instead of “teef” and “mouff” - that’s a big improvement in diction for this wee 3 year old. And what was really amusing was that my mom was way more impressed with her newfound use of the “th” sound than the Dude’s new dentes.
I love how I’m so like her in so many ways. And I also love that when she reads this, she’ll totally get the Monty Python reference in the title.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Today’s vintage entry (sounds all classy that way;) is from March 2, 2006, the day I had my first ultrasound of WonderGirl and realized this parenting thing was actually happening. Although I had personally scheduled it all for the next year. Silly fate.
Rewind a few weeks. Jared and I had spent all morning in a plane coming home from Colorado visiting my family. I’d been feeling odd and my period was being even weirder.
“Just take the test,” Jared kept saying as we flew home. “You’ll feel better if you know whether or not that is the reason you feel bad.”
We got in and were exhausted and feeling like we’d spent 3 hours in a plane. I love home but I hate the flight there, ug. So we hopped in the shower and were going to take a nap. Jared always takes shorter showers than me, I’ve got lots to do in there (why does that sound bad??;) so he left and I finished up and as I got out… I just snapped. I didn’t think about it, I didn’t freak out, I just got the test out of the cabinent and took it.
You’re supposed to wait a few minutes to see the results, but I couldn’t take my eyes off of it. One line means no, 2 lines mean yes.
That second line started showing up… darker and darker. I just kept staring at it, breathing heavier and heavier. The tears came and I couldn’t stop, I just stared at the lines and hyperventilated.
I ran into the office, still wet from my shower, no towel and crying hysterically (how’s that for a visual?). Jared turned from his computer, worried (but not too worried, I tend to freak out about insane things regularly).
“What is it??” he asked.
“There’s… two lines…”
Jared looked far from calm now. “What does that mean??” He jumped up and stood in front of me. “What does that mean??”
I couldn’t answer, I just sobbed. That was answer enough, and he wrapped his arms around me and just held me, tears in his eyes. He wiped my tears and told me he loved me.
Eventually I put on some clothes. I’ve been in a haze for weeks. I wasn’t expecting this at all. I’ve been in denial, mostly.
But today, I saw the heartbeat. I saw the jelly bean in my tummy wiggle.
I don’t know if I’m ready for this. I don’t know anything that I’m supposed to know. Except that I’m terrified. There’s nothing I can do but smile and accept this. And whatever my present mental state…
I have the most wonderful partner in the world to help me care for…
I’m so knocked up right now.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
GPOYW - My New House Makes Me Do Spirit Fingers. Maybe it’s that as I unpack finally (it feels like I’ve been living in limbo forEVER) and find there are places for things, or maybe it’s that there’s enough space to keep things from underfoot, but I’m slightly giddy. I honestly didn’t like it until we started moving in and I realized how much space there is. Except for the silverware drawer, but that’s livable.
I promise I’ll start posting about something other than real estate shortly.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
INTRAWEB HAS ARRIVED. Holy snap, 3 days without the intraweb??? My mind boggles. So many blogs to read - so many status updates to stalk - so many random things to search for on Craigslist… I may go into some kind of coma from the sudden shock of having access to the actual world. A few things to fill you in on since we last spoke:
I played mariachi and other such nonsense at a church party in a mini-band. I sounded ROUGH. Felt rough too. A tad nervous about the gig next month.
We are completely moved out. I now live in ClownTown. No joke.
I LOVE MY NEW HOUSE. I LOVE IT. I love the view from the front window, I love that we have Dish tv and not that creepy ghetto cable from Iceburg, plus having DVR in more than just the living room (watch my recorded shows in the couch in the living room? Upright?? How barbaric!) I love having a bedroom of a decent size so I don’t have to crawl over anything just to go to the bathroom, I love the storage in the basement, the space of the garage, the awesome playroom, the short staircases…. I love it so much, I will overlook the fact that the drawers are all WAY too small and it’s in ClownTown. And that at any given time, I can still step outside and see a herd of cows within 20 feet of my house.
If you are remotely near my size, please come over and take some of my clothes and shoes. Because I own too many. Any then I could justify that using that gift card I demanded for Mother’s Day on new ones :) Mother’s Day was awesomeness. I may have been dragged into this Mother thing kicking and screaming, but I gots me a babbydaddy who appreciates me and a kid that thrills in screaming “HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY!!!!!” in my ear at 7am. And a Dude who spends 19 of the 24 hours in a day flirting with anything that has a pulse.
Being away from y’all for SO long, I gained a deeper appreciation for how much I adore you. I love blogging. I love YOU. And no, I’m not high on paint fumes (not a lot, anyway) - I’m just grateful for all my amazing friends in this hawt red lapytopy (that’s how they say ‘laptop’ in Brasil - it never ceases to make me giggle). You. Rock. I’ll get caught up on your blogs ASAP. It’s kind of a compulsion.
Oh, and I’m still 30. I know, it’s been so long you’d think I was at least 42. Oh intraweb… I love you. I’d make out with you but my screen is covered in tiny fingerprints. So I’ll just make googly eyes at you. Rowr.
Friday, May 7, 2010
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
I had the most relaxing morning. I felt like a pampered princess. Might I share?
First, I had a professional mover come and pack up a large portion of my kitchen for a few hours. Okay, it was actually my friend Julie, but she’s moved around a ton like me, so she knows her stuff. Being able to have a friend gab with while I try to make sense of the pantry was simply heavenly.
Then, I got to take a long, lovely nap. Kind of. My awesome friend Elaine (the Brasilian, gotta love ‘em) came over to watch my kids while I went to the dentist. If you’ll remember back 2 years or so, I had that awful dentist that did awful work so I’m getting some things he messed up fixed. And since that awful experience, I’ve been terrified to go back to a dentist, so this one has been an absolute dear. And they gave me gas. So I laid there, listening to the latest Star Trek movie that my dear hubby loaded onto my iPhone and didn’t mind one bit the dentist had a tiny drill in my mouth. (Also, the guy’s last name is Hatch - he’s not LDS, but he thinks it’s cute that I am since his family line was, so he is slowly going through telling me the life story of every Mormon he’s ever known. It’s adorable!)
I know this sounds dumb, but that was the most relaxed I’ve been in AGES. I haven’t been sleeping well for some weird reason and I’ve been all hyped up and stressy, but then they turned on that gas and I was like putty. I can totally see why people are into that drugs thing. It was awesome, plus I got to watch/listen to a movie without any “MOMMY! BUDDYBUDDY IS EATING MY FACE!!” distractions. And when the dentist did the drill stuff, the movie coincidentally was right at loud action scenes so I didn’t freak in the slightest. I kept thinking “this is FANTASTIC! I need to get dental work done every week!!” Except now my jaw is a little sore, but you get the picture.
How is it that packing and the dentist is like having my morning off?? I’m not going too deep into this, suffice to say that it was AWESOME. I can’t wait to go back in a few weeks and have 3 fillings replaced!
Monday, May 3, 2010
Packing. Not packed, but should be. Ak. Closing on the house Wednesday. Husband’s can-do parent’s and sister’s family are coming to help this weekend. So excited for company that I may forget to do the moving.
My life has a tendency to not sit still. I suppose I’d be bored if it did.
Also, it occurred to me the other night while I should have been sleeping that a skirt make of plaid neckties (longer than the one shown, natch) would be the perfect thing to wear while playing rockin’ fiddle at a Scottish festival. Except there is no way I’d have the time to make it. Oh, and I also don’t know how to sew. But it would be sooooo super cool. Still need an actual kilt though. Blagh.
Back to the boxes. HELP.
Can I just vent for a second? My full time occupation is Worrier in Chief. I worry. Sometimes I wonder what it's like to have normal...