Once There Was A Snowman

Here is a little video of Michael singing his favorite song. Notice how he pops up at the end and asks to sing it again.

God Bless Disposable Diapers

I always knew disposable diapers were heaven-sent. This article is just proof of that. The funny thing is I read it right after I read an article about the many virtues of cloth diapers.

All I can say is given the option of folding up a poopy diaper and throwing it in the trash, or swirling it in the toilet and washing it myself, well, is there really a choice? Seriously?

I think disposable diapers are the reason I was born when I was. That and indoor plumbing. And modern anesthesia. And antibiotics. And eyeglasses. Not to mention I would have dropped dead on the border of Nauvoo. Okay, I never would have made it to Nauvoo. My ancestors would have had to leave me in Palmyra.

I'm such a wimp. But it's soooo comfortable being a wimp.

What Was I Saying About Names?

John McCain has chosen Sarah Palin to be his Vice Presidential running-mate. (If you just said, "who?", then join the crowd). I haven't looked up any of her qualifications, so I can't pontificate on whether or not she is a worthy choice. But I did find out that she is the mother of 5 children - Track, Trig, Bristol, Willow, and Piper. Hopefully she has more political sense than baby-naming sense.

Her youngest child, Trig, is just four months old! Can you imagine running around the country campaigning for the presidency with a four-month old on your hip? I have nothing against working mothers, but I certainly wouldn't want to be in her shoes. Or her kids' shoes, because then my name would be something like Bristol.

Words Of Wisdom

Everyone keeps saying that this diet thing will get easier. That's what my sisters are saying too... well... sort of.

S4: My problem is eating lots of vegetables doesn't satisfy my hunger. I could eat a whole bag of baby carrots and feel just as hungry as I did before.

S3: Well, yes, but eventually you just lose the will to live!

S2: All I can say is if I weigh the same next Monday as I did this Monday, I quit. I want a cookie.

S1: I ate three apples today, and they didn't help with the hunger one bit. I shouldn't have wasted those points on apples when I could have eaten a "Skinny Cow" instead.

S4 to S3: I hate you for making me do this.

S3: It gets better, I promise, but it's unpleasant until the end.

S1 on my answering machine: I'm just calling to say that I'm hungry.

You know, there is actually nothing more encouraging than knowing everyone else is miserable too.

Putting The Die In Diet

Have you ever noticed that the first three letters of the word "diet" are d-i-e? Coincidence? I think not.

I went grocery shopping yesterday, spending a fortune on unsatisfying low-fat and "lite" items that I normally sneer at. I was so hungry I ate half a box of 1 point snack cakes on the way home.

Of course I had just run the gauntlet - walking down the ice cream aisle and landing in the checkout line (which, unbeknownst to many, is part of the Third Circle of Hell) where there were candy bars on sale for $0.33! Why do they taunt me so?

And on the way home Michael got tired of his carseat and started gagging himself to express his displeasure. Let's just say that I lacked sympathy when he threw up all over my freshly-cleaned car.

It was a bad afternoon.

Let The Diet Begin

My sisters and I have made a goal to lose ten pounds (that's ten pounds each, not ten pounds collectively, although that would be easier) by September 29th. These are the rules of the diet, as stated by my brilliant sister, Suzanne:

1. Weigh yourself on Monday, August 25, in your undies. No fair wearing snow boots and a winter coat. This is your official starting weight.

2. You do not have to reveal this starting weight, although you can if you want to.

3. Every following Monday, through September 29 we will report to each other our weight loss

4. Hair cuts are an acceptable weight loss technique

5. Getting Shauna to stand on the scale for you is not an acceptable weight loss technique

6. The goal is to lose 10 pounds by September 29—this would be 2 pounds per week.

7. The winner is anyone who loses 10 pounds OR the person who loses the most weight

8. We should have a prize

9. The prize should probably not be cheesecake, but doesn’t that sound good?

10. It is also acceptable to completely stuff yourself silly on Sunday, August 24.

11. We can send encouraging messages to each other. Or we can mock each other.

12. Dianna must choose to join us or we will just mock her.

I must admit, I'm scared out of my wits to go on a diet. I'm already panicking about food. But the good thing is it did stop me from eating a cookie with my breakfast this morning. And besides, it means more emails from my sisters. What's not to love about that?

Dumb And Dumber

Bruce sent me this link in response to my welcoming message to poor Zuma Nesta. I must say, I haven't been able to do anything but shake my head. These children should be taken away by Child Protective Services. Honestly, if you can't give your child a respectable name, can you really be trusted to raise that child to be a functioning adult? (Not that these people are raising their children - isn't that what nannies are for?) A big hurrah for the judge who ordered the name change for the unfortunate "Talula Does The Hula". It's too bad he didn't also order a change in parental unit.

Also in the way of dumb and dumber news, how about Angel Matos from Cuba, who in a display of stupidity of Olympic proportions, kicked a referee in the face when he disagreed with his call.

Wow, some people are just too dumb to be believed.

Poor Michael

Michael accompanied me to a stake primary baptism this morning since David is at work today. After it was over I told Michael it was time to go home.

"Dada?" he asked hopefully.

"No, Michael, I'm sorry, but Dada's at work today."

"Dada?" he asked again.

"Dada's not home, Michael."

Pause

"Ra-Ra?"

Sigh.

Welcome To The World, Zuma Nesta (My Apologies Regarding Your Idiot Parents)

Gwen Stefani and her husband Gavin Rossdale just had a baby boy. They named him Zuma Nesta Rock Rossdale. (I'll pause while your eyebrows find their way back to their regular position...)

Now, I realize his parents are rock stars, but how could they do this to their child? What is wrong with people nowadays? (I would say just celebrities, but I've heard a wide range of idiotic names from regular folks as well.)

I think there should be an application for parenthood that everyone is required to fill out before they can have a baby. It would consist of one question: What do you plan to name your child? If the answer is something that would allow that child to be considered for a respectable job in twenty years, then you can have a baby. If not, sorry, no kids for you.

And while we're on the subject, please use normal spellings when naming your children. Don't make them spend their whole life explaining their name.

Seriously, Zuma Nesta? These people should not be allowed to reproduce.

Grin

What The Heck?

Last Saturday we stepped out on our back patio and noticed an odd addition:



Methinks this has something to do with Oliver and Kristin. Or maybe we just have an infestation of Gernumbli Gardensi

Chase

Michael absolutely loves to be chased, especially by the Tickle Monster.

Science Vs. Nature

Our friends Rebecca Romijn and Jerry O'Connell are expecting twins! (You can read my previous post about them here).

"The twins were conceived without the help of in vitro fertilization or the fertility drug Clomid," a source close to the couple says."

Well, congratulations to them! And that's great that they didn't have to resort to fertility treatment. But this brings up something that I come across on a regular basis, and I can't figure out why it's such a hot-button issue:

I have many friends who were lucky enough to be blessed with natural twins. They are all great moms and really enjoy their kids, but many of them get really defensive and offended when people ask if they did IVF or used fertility drugs. Now, just to be clear, I don't think anyone should be asking anyone how their babies were conceived, but that is beside the point. Instead of saying "None of your business" and walking away, they try to defend their "honor" by explaining that their babies are mother-nature specials.

And then we have "news" articles about people like Rebecca Romijn and Jerry O'Connell, making sure everyone knows they did not need assistance in creating their little bundles of joy.

I am just not sure why this little piece of information matters. In my never-to-be-humble opinion, there is absolutely nothing to be ashamed of in having to seek fertility treatment. If you can't have a baby the regular way, who cares? And if you can, again, who cares?

We treat naturally-conceived twins like they are a badge of honor. (Look at what great reproductive systems their parents have - they were able to have twins without any help!) It seems we have lost sight of the fact that conception of babies is a private matter, and every baby is a miracle, no matter how much scientific interference may have been required for them to be born.

Cutest Potty Ever

While out shopping today we decided to make use of the family restroom. Upon entering we were greeted by this:


One adult toilet and one child-sized potty! I didn't know it was possible for a potty to be cute, but if there were a scale to rate the cuteness of potties this one would be ranked somewhere between adorable and darling.

We let Michael sit on the potty, but his little bum was too small and threatened to plop down in the water, so the moment didn't last long enough for a picture. Here he is giving the potty a flush.


We need one of these in our house. Seriously.

Mama's Boy?

I have been having fun with this little widget. It tells you which parent your child resembles the most. The fascinating thing is that I uploaded several different sets of pictures and every time it said Michael looks more like me. I find this so interesting because 99% of the comments I get are people saying, "Wow! Michael looks so much like David!"

I guess there is some of me in there after all.

MyHeritage: Family trees - Genealogy - Celebrities - Collage - Morph

Words

I finally figured out how to tell my mom I'm hungry. For a long time I had to run over to the pantry or my high chair and beg. Mom would always say, "Use your words, Michael. Can you say 'hungry'?" Well, I just can't say "hungry" because it's a hard word, but now I've learned a word that works just as well.

I know that before we eat we always say a prayer, and I am really good at folding my arms and saying "May-men!" at the end. So now if I'm hungry I just fold my arms and say "May-men!" and mom gets me some food! It works great! Sometimes I still like to hang on my high chair and whine, and sometimes if I'm really hungry I yell at my mom (she says that's not very nice, but I say we'll talk about my being nice when I'm not so hungry). I can ask for some of my favorite kinds of food too, like crackers, milk, cheese, apples, yogurt and fruit snacks. I would eat fruit snacks all day if my mom would let me. She says I need to eat a "balanced diet", whatever that is. It sounds kind of yucky.

I love learning new words.

True Love

My sister just finished reading "Breaking Dawn" (out of obligation more than curiosity, since her teenage daughter read it) and called me yesterday to discuss it. She said the theme of the book was sex and passion = love, which launched us into a discussion about true love and what it really is. And each of us was able to define it in one sentence.

Sentence 1: True love is your husband cleaning up the vomit when one of your kids pukes in the middle of the night.

Sentence 2: True love is when your husband willingly helps you go to the bathroom after you've had major surgery.

You might be laughing, but I honestly think these are two very accurate descriptions of what love is. It seems you always hear that love is the romance and the flowers, the candlelight dinners and kisses, and in the case of "Breaking Dawn", sex, sex, and more sex. And I fully agree that love can and should include these things. But if your husband is busting his buns going to work for the family, and all you do is complain about the fact that he never sends you flowers, then you are missing the point. Every time he mows the lawn or takes the trash out for you, he is telling you he loves you. Flowers or not.

Love is service and sacrifice. Honestly, nothing says I love you like changing a poopy diaper.

Tender Mercies

There have been times in my life when I have experienced devastating, bone-crushing losses that feel like an anvil has been dropped on my chest. The kind where I wake up every morning and try to swallow my breakfast over the lump in my throat, and where certain words bring me to tears in the middle of the grocery store.

I have recently experienced two of these losses, and they are so closely intertwined it is almost hard to separate the pain of one from the pain of the other. In some ways it feels like one bottomless pool of devastation in which I am desperately treading water.

It seems like one loss can sometimes domino into another and another, and cause you to remember every related sadness that ever happened to you. But the good part is that it can also cause you to remember the tender mercies of the Lord and to look back on all the times you were carried through, and at all the people who became your tender mercies.

I think this is why the second loss has crashed into me with such force - it is the loss of one of those tender mercies who helped me get through the previous devastating blow just a month ago, and many many others before that. And even though we are only separated by 2000 miles, a mere phone call away in this day and age, it still hurts like there is an eternity between us.

But even though my heart is aching, I have a hope of more tender mercies which will certainly come my way. I know there has never been a time when the Lord has not blessed me in some small way and reminded me that He is constantly aware of me, and I have faith that this time will be no different.

Family Photos

Aren't we just cute as the dickens?

Where's Ra-Ra?

After a fun two week vacation and a not-so-fun 15 hours spent in an airport and stuck on the runway, we are finally home. In a two hour time span Michael has asked to see Clara 17 times. I am so sad.

Clara, we miss you.

This Blog Post Is Known To The State Of California To Cause Cancer

I have rolled my eyes over many warning labels, and often wondered what sort of lawsuit inspired the idiot-proofing attached to all my merchandise. I especially enjoy the "duh" labels like "Do not drive with sunshade in place" or "Caution: hot when heated". And of course there are all those California warnings - "This (fill in the blank with product of your choice) is known to the state of California to cause cancer." Luckily we don't live in California so these sorts of labels don't apply to us. (Phew! I was really worried about my stroller giving me cancer.) But I must admit, this warning label on my travel pillow has left me a little bewildered:

In case you can't read it, it says: "Warning: Do not use for sleeping. For decorative purposes only."

Silly me. I bought this pillow thinking I could use it for sleeping when really I should have been using it to contribute to the feng shui of my living room. I feel so sheepish!