Going to church Commando style

19 Nov

So yesterday after church we headed up to hang out with the Dear Husband’s family.  It’s been way too long since we got together so we had a sort of combined Thanksgiving dinner/November birthday celebration pot luck.  There are 5 of us born in November- that it is the best month of the year to be born in, goes without saying. 

It was a very random potluck indeed.  We had Chili pork roast, potato casserole, chilequiles, spanish rice, green salad, greek pasta salad, bacon macaroni & cheese, sushi, birthday cake, lemon cupcakes, and pumpkin gooey cake (with real whipped cream.)  It was all good.

My kids had a blast with their cousins.  My favorite was watching my 4 year old playing with her 15 year old cousin. 

The Dear Husband’s youngest brother brought “just a friend”  with him to dinner so that added drama to the day.  You can’t tell me that people bring “just a friend” to family Thanksgiving Dinner.

Speaking of drama, rewind to church. reeeet. (that’s the sound of us rewinding.)  About half way through sacrament meeting this happened:

My friend’s 13 year old daughter leaned back from the pew in front of us and whispered, “Cutie Pie doesn’t have a diaper on.”

I was like, “Duh, she hasn’t worn diapers for awhile.”

Friend, “She’s flashing everyone.”

I look over, and my 4-year-old is laying on her back in the bench, legs in the air, dress over her head, no undies in sight.  

You’ve got to be kidding me.  I personally dressed her and she had panties on when I dressed her.  Sigh.  She and I exit the meeting.  I took her out to the van, thinking I had a spare pair for her, but no luck. So she got to wear a much too small diaper for the rest of church.  I asked her where her panties were and she said,

“I forgot them at home.”

I wanted to be like HOW COULD YOU FORGET THEM, but she is only four and also, no one would have ever known if she had kept her feet down.  I knew the real reason I was bothered was because I was embarrassed.  (Did you ever notice that the word “embarrassed” has the words Bare and a$$ in it?) 

I know people have different opinions on the subject of nude children.

My husband’s parents never allowed their children to be naked because naked children = poverty.

My parents had naked children running around on the farm all the time because naked = the glorious freedom of youth.  All too soon we have to grow up and wear clothing in order to be socially acceptable so why not let the little kids enjoy it while they can.

I guess I still feel that way.  The man of the house doesn’t call me his Ferengi wife for no reason….la la la.

What’s your opinion on going commando/living life clothing optional?

I already know that at least 2 of my sisters think that if we lived in a nudist colony, at least we wouldn’t have to do laundry.

And another of my friends considers undies to be dispensible/disposable in certain situations.

Dyin’ to be at Dianne’s

7 Nov

This is my dad’s little sister, my Aunt Dianne.  I’ve told you about her Cheddar Pear Pie before.  Which is delicious and also, it is delicious.

My family has our own Happy Birthday song that we tag on the end of the one everbody knows.  One of the lines is “May your birthdays be bright with cheer and delight.”  Because my dad’s other sister is named Chere, I always amended the song in my head to “May your birthdays be bright with Chere and Dianne.”  It was like a birthday wish to get to visit them in the next year.

Well this year, I got to visit Aunt Dianne.  I and 9 members of my family stayed at her house for a few days when my bro Eddie got married in August.

 We drove about 20 hours, including through the night, to get there.

(I suppose I shouldn’t say “we” drove, as my dad and bro Jimmy did most of the driving.  I did lots of talking to keep the drivers from getting bored.  I’m selfless like that.)

Anyways, I’m sure that if you’ve been on a long trip like that, you know that sort of nauseous bleck feeling you start to get after eating trail mix and celery sticks in the car for 2 days.  Even when you have your choice of 5 different kinds of peppermint gum (thanks, Dad) you eventually start feeling a little green.

We entered Utah valley at about 2-3 o’clock in the afternoon.  Dad offered to stop at Burger King, or something, but it was just an hour or so until Aunt Dianne’s and we all voted to wait.  A Whopper might be warm and taste good going down, but then it sits there in your gut feeling oily and heavy–especially if you are already kinda bleh.  We were sure Aunt Dianne would have a better option, and she did!

We landed at her house, crowded in and somewhat bashfully admitted that we were starving and tired of car food.  Well Aunt Dianne told us to sit down and before we knew it, there was a huge pot of pasta soup and loaves of homemade bread and lots of sliced up cucumbers from her garden: all my favorite comfort foods loaded on one table.   The 10 of us plus a couple more who were already at her house gobbled down as much of that delicious soup and bread as we could hold and then we all had glorious naps on her many comfy couches.

This is the “Love Sack”.  It is much coveted by all.

All that weekend, Aunt Dianne fed us delicious food and it all just appeared out of her cupboards and fridge like magic.  If we ate it all, more appeared, until we were stuffed.  Even the night that 70 aunts & uncles & cousins showed up to gab and laugh, she calmly produced food for us all.

And she had time to sit down and talk and be interested in what was going on in our lives and laugh at our jokes and loan us her stockings when ours got snags.

It was the most restful retreat I’ve ever gone too, and I felt like a new woman when I got home.  I got back the energy and enthusiasm for life that I’d been missing since my last baby was born.

part of that rejuvenation came from hanging out with these 2 amazing women.

This is the kind of hostess I want to be when I’m grown up.  The kind that can seemingly effortlessly produce food to feed a crown.  (I know it actually takes work and good planning too.)  The kind of hostess where everyone who visits feels welcome and at peace.

Until then, I’m lucky to have friends & family who are willing to come over and pretend with me that the food was great and the fun was seamless; even if there’s a pot on the stove billowing smoke and I’m hastily scrabbling together the ingredients to something else and there’s a pile of dirty dishes behind me.  One day, their faith and long suffering will be rewarded (I hope.)

NaNoWriMo Update

5 Nov

400 words.  I hate my plot.  It is the worst ever and if I did finish it, I would die of shame to have my family/friends read it. 

It’s a Mad Mad Mad November

2 Nov

Yesterday was November first.  Yesterday NaNoWriMo began for the 3rd or 5th time since I first learned of it.

That’s National Novel Writing Month, for those of you who’ve been in the dark all this time.  All around the US (and the world?) average, everyday people turn off their TV’s or sleep less, or whatever it is they have to do to carve out enough time from their usual day to write 1,667 words. Thus producing by month end, a novel of 50,000 words.  From it’s humble beginning of 21 participants, NaNoWriMo has grown to over 200,000 participants.

This year was the first year that I remembered on November 1 that I wanted to write.  In fact, because a friend had committed to participate, I’d been thinking about it for a couple weeks.  But I had no plot idea.  Now I know, the guys over at NaNoWriMo have the philosophy of “No Plot, No Problem.”  They favor quantity over quality, the point being something like, the weather is miserable in November so why not take advantage of it and write that novel you’ve always (or never) wanted to write.  However, I was unwilling to spend even 30 hours of my precious time writing garbage with no direction.

Finally I decided to write everyday instead, on the non-fiction book that I’ve intended to write for the last 6 years.  I figured, it may not be fiction, but at least I have some confidence that it would sell.  If it didn’t sell, I could have confidence that at least it wouldn’t be garbage.  One of the tidbits I’ve gleaned from the Universe (I think it came from someone talking about that book “Rich Dad, Poor Dad”) was that people who are wealthy have multiple streams of income, not just one or two.  I figure, a useful nonfiction book and accompanying web site would be an awesome stream of income for my family and one I could possibly produce and still be Stay Home Mom of the Year.

I did not get any words written yesterday and I have not officially registered at the NaNoWriMo website, but I was still thinking I could maybe do this, even though I technically would not be writing a novel.

Then this morning at 3:00 am when the 4-year-old and the 11-month-old both woke up and required my attention, I REMEMBERED, I DO HAVE A PLOT.  Now I can spent 30+ hours of my precious time writing garbage WITH direction!  Back when the 9-year-old was a baby and I was up nights, I put quite a bit of thought into the basic outline of a fairytale type fantasy novel.  I didn’t do any writing on it, which is perfect, because that would break the rules, which are that you must not begin writing before Nov. 1.  You cannot use NaNoWriMo to finish a novel you have already begun.  You have to use some other unfortunate month (January?) to finish already begun works.

So now I’m conflicted a bit.  Actually write the novel?  Write the nonfiction book?  That Twilight Franchise brought in 4.7 billion dollars.  Stephanie Meyer only has about 125 million of those dollars.

The teenage, idealistic version of me would have been shocked that I’m putting any kind of monetary consideration into this.  I should be writing for the joy of it;  writing for the uplifting and the benefiting of the human condition.

You are thinking, “Sheesh! at least learn the proper use of a semi-colon.  That would benefit the human condition.”

The mother of 6, practical version of me feels that if I’m going to dedicate time to this, thereby possibly asking my family to sacrifice, that I should have some tangible benefit to promise them.

I’ve already got 239 words of “The Mouse Bride” written and it’s only 5:17 a.m. November 2.  I’m only 1,428 words behind. This is promising.

Sweet Action

27 Oct

a conversation en la casa:

Me:  Is “sweet action” something that only a guy says to another guy, or is it something that anybody could say to anybody?

(because I’m wondering if I said it to a guy if that would be weird.)

Dear Husband:  “Sweet Action” is something that your family says and thinks is cool, but nobody else says it.

Me:  Well, my brothers say it to each other, that’s why I was asking if it is a guy thing….

DH:  It’s a your family  thing.

Me: So… I shouldn’t say it to anyone else?

DH:  No

p.s.  I checked the urban dictionary and it has 10 entries for “Sweet Action”  so I’m pretty sure it isn’t just a phrase my family uses, but I’m still not sure if it is a phrase I should use.

Funny Dad Friday

26 Oct

So a friend of mine invited us all to blog about the funny things our dads say.  Immediately my mind went blank and stayed that way all week. I know my dad is funny, and appreciates a good joke, but I couldn’t think of any.  The ones I could remember had 1 of 2 problems.  They were either

A-the kind of jokes that are funny if he tells them, but not if I tell them.  (I had to learn that the hard way.  In high school, I told my co-workers one of my dad’s jokes that was always so funny when he told it and they all just looked at me, horrified. awkward.)  Kind of like there are some songs that only Willie Nelson can sing.

B-the kind of jokes that sound kinda racist in print–you gotta be there in person to hear them. ( “You hear about them new I-talian cars?  Dego through ice, Dego through snow, Dego through anything, and when dego flat, dego wop wop wop.”)

Anyways, my brain finally unfroze so here goes.

My dad, the stand up comic

My Dad really likes funny little songs and poems, like this one by Austin Dobson:

Rose kissed me today.
Will she kiss me tomorrow?
Let it be as it may,
Rose kissed me today.
But the pleasure gives way
To a savor of sorrow;
Rose kissed me today
Will she kiss me tomorrow?

My dad also likes food. (Who doesn’t.)  AND he doesn’t complain.  He will eat anything that my mom cooks and he never complains.  As long as someone puts a plate of food in front of him, he gratefully and happily eats it.  He will eat a huge salad bowl of chopped cabbage and talk about how good it is. 

However, if someone cooks zucchini, he will make a token protest. He’ll say, “I like everything, so I have the right to choose one vegetable to dislike and I choose zucchini.  Why would anyone want to eat zucchini?”

I’ve always thought it was pretty funny that he would fuss about zucchini when obviously he ate and liked everything.  But then, come to think of it, maybe it isn’t a token protest.  My parents have never planted zucchini in their garden, not in my memory of 30+ years anyway, and they grow things no one else does, like asparagus and rhubarb, and bok choy.

My dad back in the ’70s.  More than 30+ years ago.

Hum your favorite Hummus

19 Oct

This is one of my favorites for a quick lunch.

Classic Hummus

1 can chickpeas (garbanzo beans) drained, but reserve 1/4 cup liquid
1 clove garlic, peeled
1 Tbsp lemon juice
1 tsp cumin
1/4 tsp red pepper
1/4 tsp salt
1 drizzle olive oil

Place in a food processor and process until smooth, adding the liquid until you reach desired consitency. (I use all of it.)

You can, of course, eat this delicious hummus with chips or crackers or pita bread.

You can also spread it on bread and add lettuce or cucumber and tomato, maybe a couple of slices of green bell pepper and have a tastier sandwich than if you were eating rotisserie chicken.

You can even just dip the veggies in the hummus and eat it like dip.

So yummy!

Warning:  It will give you garlic breath.  I might try roasting the garlic first to minimize that a bit.  But raw garlic is good for you.

Pajamas are for being cute!

18 Oct
My sister asked me about pajamas today and it made me curious. (Also, I loved her reasons for/against pajamas.)
What is your opinion of pajamas?
 Vote!  Comment!

of Shores and Ships

18 Oct
Twice in my adult life, I have received a message on my phone from my Mother  that went like this, “Everybody is okay, but call me as soon as you can.”
Once I received that same message from my sister.
The first time, my family’s house had burnt to the ground, but my parents and all 8 of my siblings still at home had gotten out safely.  The next time, my sister’s house had burnt to the ground, but she and her 4 month old baby and my 3 little girls whom she had been watching that day all got out safely.  The last time I got that message, a tornado had taken the second story off my parent’s house, but the 9 people who were in it at the time were all okay.
That message on my phone that begins with “everybody is okay” is one that sends my heart racing with fear because I know something scary has happened.
But a message far worse would be a message missing that reassurance, “everybody is okay.”
A sweet relative of mine lost her mother to ovarian cancer 2 weeks ago.  She wrote a very touching blog about her mother and included this thought:
I am standing upon the seashore. A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength and I stand and watch her until at length she hangs like a speck of white cloud where the sea and sky come down to mingle with each other. Then someone at my side says,“There, she’s gone.”
Gone where? Gone from my sight, that is all. She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she was when she left my side, and just as able to bear her load of living weight to the place of destination. Her diminished size is in me, not in her; and just at that moment when someone at my side sighs: “There, she’s gone,” there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices to take the glad shout,“There, she’s coming!”
 I am sad for my sweet relative who has lost her closest friend and glad for her mother, who is gone to peace & rest, and many other feelings all at once which I cannot put into words that satisfy me.  Each day that we have is a miracle and a gift.

It’s so easy to be Green

17 Oct

I made a green drink this morning that was especially tasty:

2 1/2 cups water
4-5 ounces spinach
2 outside stalks of celery
1/8th of a lemon
2 cups frozen strawberries
8 inches of frozen banana
1 1/2 tsp truvia

I don’t always put bananas in because they overpower all the other fruit flavors; but they make such a smooth texture that sometimes I really like them.

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