Potato Love

Found this in the produce section . . .

Then I saw this down another aisle . . .

Is this Idaho's way of saying it misses me?

Seasoned Travelers

In the whirlwind of packing & preparing, we are still taking time to breathe & laugh! We had a Walmart run this morning & the kids got firewater (flavored sparkling water) as a reward. Mairyn REALLY liked her raspberry flavored water.

Mairyn: "I love this water! I want to take it on the airplane with us!

Grant: "You can't, Mairyn. No liquids allowed on the plane."

'Nuff said, my boy.

Pot Love

No, this isn't a post devoted to a love of illegal substances. I just had to make a special dedication to my pots & pans. Back in October, my Mom came to visit & 'suggested' (in a way only a mother can) that I needed some new pots. Some of my pots were kind of warped, but that is to be expected after 10 years of use, no? We had just gotten a new stove, the flat top kind, and when I would boil water or put something to cook, the pots would rock back & forth as if possessed by the demon of cookery. This, my Mom pointed out, would eventually lead to a cracked stove top. Yikes!

So we went to Sam's Club later that week and bought a brand new set of everything. And totally worth the $139. Every penny. It was a bit hard getting rid of my old pots & pans. It was like giving away my children. We had been through so much together; the triumphs & the failures. If pots could talk . . . But I have since recovered from my self-imposed loss and have learned to love again. Probably even more than before. These babies are non-stick. Truly non-stick. I have for you, Exhibit A.



This is what happens when you start Ramen for your 3 year old, then forget about it until your 10 year old sticks her head in your shower and asks, "Did you start cooking some Ramen?" Uh oh. I told her to go turn off the stove and I'd take care of everything. I was imagining the worst. Boiled over, burned to the pan and stove; an ugly mess. But behold, Exhibit B.



My clean pot. I did nothing to the pot or picture. After sitting and boiling away for who knows how long, I picked up the pot and slid the patty 'o' Ramen out onto a plate. Nice and clean. Completely amazing. These pots take a little extra work, i.e. I don't put them in the dishwasher, I handwash them with a washcloth. But when this is all the cleanup required, it doesn't seem like work at all. Just pure pleasure! Oh, and if you were curious, here's what 'Baked Ramen' looks like. Bon Apetit!

Recessionista Rocks

My sister and I went to a party last night. Funny story. So my sister follows this blog called Make it and Love it. The lady that writes the blog was hosting a Recessionista party. They sell shoes, jewelry, purses, some clothing; all for way low prices. Recessionista is to shoes & purses like Pampered Chef is to kitchen gadgets.

Back to the story, she's very excited about the party and decides to come to the 'Burg a day early just so we can go. I looked up the address; 5 minutes (if that) from my house. Also, Spencer's cousin is the gal that runs this Recessionista chapter. Way too small of a world. Katelyn is in awe. (you know them?) It's hard NOT to know any of Spencer's 437 cousins. Well, probably not that many, but he's got a ton. At least 50. I am not joking; on any level whatsoever.



So here's a pic of the loot I got. I wasn't so sure about any of it; I like some of the chunky stuff, but I'm not sure if I can pull it off. But I have a black dress and I just know that those pearls would look great at a Christmas party. (like I have a christmas party to go to) And the feathers & junk in my hair is a headband. Yeah, I look like a peacock. But a peacock that wears pearls and got it all for super super cheap.

Pretty cool

I know, creative title. I'm not good at titles. A friend of mine posted this on Facebook and I had to share! This LDS Public Service Announcement entitled, "Swashbucklers" was chosen by the U.S. Media Directors as the best television PSA campaign in the National Media Survey of Television Community Service Directors. Whew. Do you think they could have made some of those names acronyms? Anyway, I'm always a sucker for the LDS PSAs. TTYL. XOXO, BYOB



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What he's done

Unfortunately, I think I may be the only person with a song association to the post title. One: It's a really awesome song on Guitar Hero. Two: if you are familiar with the first Transformers movie, it's a song in the soundtrack. Also, it's the first thing that popped into my head when I heard Eliza's announcement.

I was in my room trying to talk to Spence on Skype, alone, without any interruptions. Some other kindergarteners in the neighborhood had just gotten home, and so Grant & Jacqueline were busy running around the backyard with them; Mairyn & Eliza were happy playing & herding them around. I had had about 10 minutes of peace when Eliza came running in.

"Mommy, Mommy do you you know what Rider has done?"

"No, what?"

"He pooped. He POOPED in the driveway." (Rider is like, 2)

Really? I wasn't too concerned. I told her to go tell Rider's Mommy and she'll get it cleaned up. I asked if anyone was getting near it. No way! Alright, just go play on the other side of the yard until it's cleaned up. I moved with the computer out to the kitchen because it was about lunch time and kids would be getting hungry. That way, I could stay on Skype and help kids. I was at the table with my back to the door when I heard it open but no slam.

"Who was that?"

*cricket*cricket*

"Who came in the door and left it open?"

Silence. I thought I heard something down the hall so I went to investigate. It was Grant. He was scrabbling at the bathroom doorknob, but hiding his hands from me.

"Grant, what do you need?" I asked.
"Rider pooped Mommy." Grant blurted out.
"I know. Did you get into it?"
"No, RIDER pooped." he said again.
"I know sweetie, HE pooped. Not you. But what's wrong?"
"Well, his poo got on my bike wheel and I tried scraping it off and . . . uh . . . " he trailed off.

He had been trying to scrape the poo off of the wheel. Great. We deep-cleaned those babies, scraping under fingernails and even clipping them. And Grant did not protest. Usually, plipping (clipping) nails is akin to Chinese Water Torture. No screaming this time. He wanted the poo OFF. As did I. Over and over, he kept repeating,

"Rider pooped. Not me."

This kid was in preservation mode. For once, it was not something he had done and he wasn't taking the rap for it. No way, no how!

Why?

That's the only thing I can say to this. Why? Were you going for the "I-got-interrupted-mid-bathroom-break" look? It defies the laws of gravity. He didn't walk very easily, either. I turned to Spence and motioned in butt-boy's direction.

"Why? Huh?"

"It's the style. He probably likes it." he answered.

I have serious doubts about that.

Coincidence?

I think not. Let's backtrack a couple of weeks to when we were flying from D.C. to Idaho. We arrived at the airport, checked baggage, found our terminal and gate and settled in to wait. This was at about 6am, so I was perfectly comfortable doing that. Children, on the other hand, aren't. So Spence and I took turns taking the kids for "Adventures". Basically it's a walk around our area of the terminal, but that sounds too boring. Adventures is a better title for selling the idea. Spencer took the first shift of Adventurers. When they all came back, Spencer seemed a bit more smiley that needed at this hour of the morning.

"Ok, it's your turn for Adventure. And make sure you go past the Five Guys restaurant."

"Why?"

"Just do it. You won't be disappointed."

So we made our way through the terminal to the Five Guys, Burgers & Fries establishment and looked around. Nothing really astonishing. It's a burger and fries place. Whoop-de-doo. Definitely not it the mood for that first thing in the morning. I stood there just long enough for the employees to start milling around the cash register and counter, wondering if this lady was gonna freakin' order something already. Then I spotted this little checkered sign to the left of the window where they shoved out overflowing bags full of those golden, crispy fries.

"Today's Potatoes are from: Rexburg, Idaho"

Well I'll be darned, Rexburg. What are the odds?

Some Dog

Ok, Katelyn, you need to teach Sage how to do this! Or Chris! I stumbled upon this little gem while wasting time this morning. I know, easy, easy post. But seriously, how could I NOT share this?

Interpretation

Oh, the joy I've had while reading these funnies! I don't even know where to begin. I think these are flashcards to accompany material for training Homeland Security personnel. Well, some wise guys found just the pictures and put in their own captions. Here is one of my favorites.

If you spot terrorism, blow your anti-terrorism whistle. If you are Vin Diesel, yell really loud.

Oh my, the tears were rolling with that one. Here's one more to whet your palate.

If you are trapped with no hope of being found, amuse yourself in your final moments with shadow puppets.

For the rest of these funnies, go here: http://www.safenow.org/

Read. Laugh. Enjoy.