Life is Sweet: August 2010

Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Home Again, Home Again

My nephew Josh is coming home today from his 2 year mission (+) in Kyiv, Ukraine, for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. It's so gosh darn exciting. I am excited for him, excited for his family, and excited because you know what THAT means... Taylor will be home soon too.

Jiggity Jig.

Taylor and Josh have been as close as two cousins can be that have lived miles apart for most of their lives. They were born 10 days apart, and were blessed on the same day.

Taylor and Josh at age 1.

They were even baptized on the same day (which was a memorable weekend, let me tell you. Our van was stolen the day before -- long story -- so we made the trip to Grandma's church building in Bountiful crammed in our Chevy Celebrity that lacked air conditioning. But it all turned out fine. I could have used this message back then.)

Luckily, these two cousins also got to see each other in passing at the MTC.

Taylor went in the MTC about two months after Josh, but Josh was there for 12 weeks studying the Ukrainian language. Josh could have been home a couple of weeks ago, but he stayed for the dedication of the Kyiv, Ukraine temple this past weekend.

Welcome home, Josh!

Monday, August 30, 2010

It's A Small World

The last (and only) time I went on that iconic Disneyland attraction was back in 1988. On my honeymoon. We took pictures, but I chopped them all up to put in some pretty cool scrapbooks, and the negatives are tucked in a box patiently waiting to be digitized. But this picture was taken on the same day,

so you can clearly see that it was a very long time ago.

The next two times we visited Disneyland, Small World was closed. But once you have been through it, you can never forget the sentiment that it's a small, small world, if you know what I mean.

So, like I mentioned last week, I started a new job. The first day, I reported to the Special Education teacher who had interviewed me. She handed me a schedule for the week, which is where I discovered that I would be spending half of my working day with the best kindergarten teacher ever. How did I know? Because I know her. She's in my ward. We've served in YW together. I knew she taught kindergarten, but had forgotten (or did I ever know?) that she was working at that particular school (which is only in it's second year -- I think). What a pleasant surprise. And yes, it's a small world.

A little later in the week, I was at the high school taking pictures of the cheer team for locker tags. As things were wrapping up, I saw the mom of one of the kids I work with walking into the school... wait a minute... my friend (the kindergarten teacher) had mentioned that this little boy was Mormon... what was his last name again? It started with a C... it hit me. This connection will take some 'splainin', so try to follow:

Years ago (1996 to be exact), on a sunny day in June (the 13th to be exact), I was in the hospital preparing to give birth to what I believed would be another daughter. As I was patiently waiting (epidural placed, of course), Bill came in and said, "I just ran into this guy from my work... his wife is having a baby today too."

"Cool," I replied. Then we got back to the business of the day, and Shilo was born.

It was tradition in our family for Bill to video-tape our babies' first bath, which he did. Once Shilo was clean and fresh and tucked into her hospital nursery bed, Bill taped a few minutes of his work buddy and his daughter (also sleeping soundly in the nursery).

Fast forward to the summer of 2009. Bill and I went with the girls from our Stake on the 4th year hike. We were assigned a group of about 9 girls (Lexee included). We hiked, we camped, we got our group lost and ended up taking the long way to the next camp for the night. You know, good memories (now that it's over). We got to know the girls, six of which were from wards other than our own. One of the girls was named Maryn (pronounced ma-RIN)... oh, I told her, I liked that name, in fact I had almost named one of my girls Maren (MAIR-en).

"Oh, I can't stand the name Maren. If you call me Maren, I won't answer you." I made a mental note, and made sure NOT to say her name incorrectly.

When school was ready to start that year, we attended the seminary fireside, where, crazy enough, Bill ran into that guy... the one from work AND the hospital years back. He was Maryn's dad. We chuckled together over the funny fact that we had daughters born on the same day. We found out that they were in our stake. Lexee and Maryn were PE locker partners that year.

This year at the seminary fireside, Bill figured out who Maryn's younger sister was (the one from the hospital), and, being the friendly, outgoing, in-your-face-kind-of-guy he sometimes is, he went up to her and said, "I know when your birthday is... we have you on video tape when you were a baby..." She smiled politely, but seemed to want to be chatting with friends, rather than with some old guy she didn't know. Lexee knew Maryn's sister had tried out for cheerleading, and had made the JV team.

So when I saw the mom of the little boy I had been working with all week at the high school on cheer picture day,

the connections started connecting (it takes me awhile). I had never met her before (at least before Monday, when she didn't seem happy at all that her son was on the 3rd or 4th EA only a couple weeks into the school year). So the next day, at the end of class, I said, "Hey, I know your family... I went on the 4th year hike with Maryn... your daughter's on the JV cheer team, right?" She gave me the "That's YOU?" and we chatted briefly. I think maybe she felt a little more comfortable leaving her youngest child with me after that (at least I hope). Small world.

And today, after class, Maryn's mom asked another EA (the one that told me I looked nice on Friday) if she was so-and-so's sister (she was). Hey, I know her. She's a fellow cheer mom too... her daughter and Lexee have been on the same team since their freshman year. Crazy small, that's what I say.

Finally, on a sad note, my sister lives in the stake where the bishop was senselessly shot and killed Sunday in CA. She knows the family personally. Her family was out of town eagerly anticipating the arrival of her oldest son home (kind of) from his mission on Tuesday. They had to meet him in SLC because he will be starting back at BYU on Wednesday (a very speedy transition). It's too bad that she has to feel shock and devastation in addition to the emotional roller coaster I'm sure she's already on. What a horrible tragedy. The family of the bishop, their ward, and stake members are in our prayers. I can't imagine dealing with something like that. And it just feels too close to home.

Friday, August 27, 2010

Things I've Learned: New Jobs

A few things I've learned from my first week of employment:

1. Be firm and in control. I've found that I ask too many questions, like, "Will you please pick that up?" and "Can you keep your hands to yourself please?" After getting a few too many NO's (verbal and non), I realized what I was doing. I watched the seasoned professionals around me. They demanded, not asked, but in a nice sort of way. "Pick that up, my friend, or you will not get choice time today" and "You are in _________'s personal space. Please keep your hands to yourself." I think this technique will come in handy someday. If it's too late to work on my kids, I'll use it on the grandkids, or maybe a dog.

Britta in Kindergarten... such a totally awesome age.

2. We are teaching children to be independent, not dependent. Since I work with a couple of special needs kids, I am soooooooo tempted to just lend a helping hand. You know, carry stuff for them, put stuff away for them, and pretty much do whatever I can to make life easier for them. But I have been reminded that the real purpose is to help them learn to do it themselves. It's a tricky thing, since I don't want to add to any discouragement they may already feel. They are only kindergartners, after all, and they still have a long road ahead. Then I come home to my fully functioning children, who are perfectly capable of doing many (if not all) things for themselves, and who, for some reason, think mother should pick up their stuff, put their stuff away, and pretty much act as a personal assistant. I've been an enabler. But not for long. This can be changed. This can be corrected. Starting asap.

Mauri at her Kindergarten meet-the-teacher with Mrs. Klenovich, who will very likely be Mauri's 5th grade teacher next year as well. From personal experience, I think she's probably better at teaching older kids. I'm trying to keep an open mind about it all.

3. Children are exhausting. Even though my hours couldn't be any more perfect than they are, I still come home feeling like I just spent 3 hours in the nursery at church. And if you recall, I do spend just under 2 hours in the nursery every Sunday, so I know what I'm talking about. For the past year and a half I have come home from church ready for a nap. And work's about the same, although I've only taken one nap all week, since I still have my mom duties that need to be performed. Needless to say, I'm ready for bed every night at 9.

Mauri's first day of Kindergarten.

4. Casual Fridays are alive and well. Only I didn't get the memo. In fact, I haven't been trained at all, just thrown into the non-stop mix of students, teachers, and class schedules. So far it's been a learn-as-you-go job. But I'm intelligent (I keep reminding myself) and experienced with children (or so I thought), I'm sure I'll pick it all up eventually. Official school district training happens this upcoming Wednesday, so hopefully I will feel informed on things like time clocks, expectations, and school dress policy. And if you were wondering, yes, I was totally overdressed today. Every teacher I saw was in jeans and tee shirts, and there I was in my dry-clean-only dress pants, a nice polyester top layered over a shade shirt, and heels. Short heels, but heels. While out at recess, a fellow SSN EA (Specialized Severe Needs Educational Assistant) said, "You look so nice today." I couldn't tell if she was mocking me, or just politely bringing up the subject so she could discreetly inform me that it's okay to dress down... at least on Fridays. Next week, I'll be wearing jeans. Or leggings. Something obviously casual.

Ready to head into class. Favoritism again, you ask? No, just the only pics on file. SOMEDAY I'll get a boatload of scanning done, I promise.

5. Not all music teachers can sing. I'm sure the male music teacher at the particular school I work at is musically inclined in some way, but after a week of music time, I have yet to see it. I'm not sure he can even carry a tune. We sang the longest rendition ever of I Saw A Bear (thanks to the assistance of an accompanying picture book, that stretched it farther than I've ever imagined possible) TWICE this week. I'm trying to cut him some slack, since he is working with new kindergarteners, but it's a hint something's off when several kids cover their ears and cringe when he sings. His singing voice is extremely high for a man. Maybe that's what got him the job.

There you have it, the nuts and bolts of the new information I've collected this week. I'm learning. I really hope to be the best darn SSN EA ever. Aim high, that's my motto (not to be confused with my Git 'er done mantra).

And a funny side note from yesterday: at the "family meeting" during Back-to-School night Mauri said,

"Mr. Legg controls everything. He practically runs the school."

Mr. Legg is on the left, Mr. Muma is on the right. Who is in control?

The funny part: Mr. Legg is the librarian, Mr. Muma is the principal.

Thursday, August 26, 2010

Sickeningly Sweet

This evening I went with Mauri to her Back-to-School night... I know, I know, so unfair of me as a parent to favor one child over others (remember I skipped the high school one?). It was very important to Mauri that I attend. She had some writing to share with me (actually, she wanted to share everything she's written since starting 4th grade -- I had to rein her in).

Honestly, it was a good time. She suggested we ride our scooters, so even though it's been a very hot day, we grabbed the scooters and off we went.

After spending some time in the classroom, we attended the "family meeting" in the gym. Really, it's a parent meeting, but what else are you going to do with all those kids excited to show off their classrooms and schoolwork, and all their younger siblings tagging along with them? So just go ahead and call it a family meeting, and talk over all the ruckus and hope your presentation can be heard and understood. Some pretty radical new ideas in the way of grading were presented... it should be interesting to see if all the theories work out. And I heard the word "kiddos" until it made me queasy. I don't mind someone using a term of endearment like that occasionally, but not twenty times in the same sentence. Too sickeningly sweet. Like you're trying to cover up what you really think of them.

Then we hopped on those scooters and rode home.

My behind will probably be killing me tomorrow.

And speaking of sickeningly sweet, I had a hankering for something like that when we got home. I thought of my old standby: No Bake Cookies. Then I remembered that I told my friend Steph I would get her the recipe, which I haven't done. So I'll post it, for all to enjoy. But only after sharing my childhood memories of these little gems.

When I was very young, no-bakes were like candy. The secret treat my brother, sister and I would cook up when my parents were "out" for the evening. We had it down to a science... almost. Of course, when we made them, they were not to share, but were a personal treat for the person willing to pull out the ingredients, mix them in a bowl, and nuke 'em in the micro. We would cut the recipe by a double half, so it was the perfect amount for personal indulgence. After a while, we didn't need a recipe... we would just eyeball it. Sometimes they turned out, sometimes they didn't. Then we would take our cereal bowl of goodness, grab a spoon, and eat until we were nauseous. Most times we would carefully hide the evidence of our gluttony, but occasionally, on a lazy night, we would stuff our half-eaten bowl of hard, over-nuked chocolate/butter/milk/sugar and oat mixture under the sofa, to be pulled out during a thorough cleaning, possibly months later. Those were good times.

After I got married, I tried making no-bakes a few times, but they never turned out. I couldn't figure out why, but after a few failed attempts, I moved on to something I could make (but as I sit here and try to think what that could have been, I'm drawing a blank. Maybe I just resorted to cheap treats like those delicious Otter Pops I ate non-stop while pregnant with Taylor. I still wonder to this day if that little obsession led to his never-ending dental and orthodontia issues.) Then one day, my neighbor Steph Padilla brought over some of her No Bake Cookies. They were just as I had remembered the very best batches turning out when I was young. I asked for her recipe.

So now, I make Steph Padilla's No-Bake Cookies quite regularly. When I obtain a recipe from someone, I rename it, probably because I am such a sentimental nut. For example, I have recipes for Lori Weintz's Brownies, Heather Lawrence's PF Changs Lettuce Wraps, Jill Feil's Eclair Cake, Heather McKinlay's Corn Bean Salsa, Nancy McAliney's French Toast Souffle, Robyn Syddall's Cornflake Cookies, and Mom's Whole Wheat Waffles, just to name a few. And seriously, these are some of my all-time favorites. And I love that whenever I pull out one of those recipes, I remember with great fondness the person I got it from. So even though I've completely lost contact with Steph, she is in my thoughts on a regular basis. And I'm grateful for her recipe, which has brought me much comfort and cheer. So, to the business of passing it along to another good friend named Steph, who can choose to name it whatever she pleases.

Steph Padilla's No-Bake Cookies

Mix in pan:

1/2 cup milk

1 cube butter or margarine

1 Tbs. cocoa powder (I add 2... cocoa's good for you, you know, flavenoids)

2 cups sugar (not so good for you, but oh so sweet)

Bring to a boil for 1 minute. Take off heat and add:

3 cups oatmeal (I prefer old-fashioned rolled, not quick)

1 tsp. vanilla

Dash of salt

3/4 cup peanut butter (optional -- I sometimes use less, but I think the addition of some PB helps them set up nicely)

Stir until mixture loses it's gloss. (I don't usually stir until it "loses it's gloss"-- too much work -- but just until they start to feel a little stiff as you stir.) Drop by teaspoonfuls onto foil. Makes 4 to 5 dozen cookies.

The only thing that can make these better:

It balances the sweetness of the cookies. When you start to feel nauseous, just swig half a glass, and you're good for a couple more. Delish.

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Wars and Razors

Lexee came home last night from "the best Mutual activity ever" looking like this:

She had changed her shirt, since it was all wet from running through the sprinklers after the
paint war.

It was a Priest/Laurel activity, so she had been joined at the ankle to a nice young man in our ward. It doesn't hurt that it was a young man her mother would be happy for her to marry... someday. (I'm going to get in trouble for writing that, btw.)

And Mauri experienced a first: shaving her legs. Before I hear gasps of shock and dismay that I would either encourage or assist my youngest child in growing up way too fast, she STILL has hair on her legs. They were so darn hairy that we didn't get it all. I have sworn her to secrecy, so as not to start the gossip going in the 4th grade. She's ~~begged~~ ~~pleaded~~ asked for several months for me to help her with it. And she does possess her father's hairy genetic tendencies. Unlike her big brother, who remained practically hairless until he graduated high school. And I didn't want her to find some random razor (of which we have plenty around here), and do it herself. She might end up like I did after my first leg-shaving attempt: blood flowing like rivers down each leg, eventually morphing into long, dark scabs along the entire length of my shins. (Yes, I had attempted both legs before realizing that I was using a little too much pressure.) Embarrassing AND painful. Hopefully it takes a good long time for that hair to grow back.

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Resume Building

The last two posts have started with, "I got up this morning and..." I know. Not creative OR interesting. Boring. So today, I'm not going to tell you what I did when I got up this morning. I'm not even going to tell you what I did when I got up yesterday morning. I'm not going to say I got a new job working at a nearby elementary school for three hours (seriously... the PERFECT amount of time) from 9am to noon (the perfect time of day), assisting some pretty darn cute special needs kids. And that although it's been stressful (because seriously, I haven't had an official job for so long I had absolutely NOTHING to put on a resume except for classroom volunteer, cheer parent volunteer, and YW organization leadership... oh, and I have a cosmetology license, which is only good if you want to practice cosmetology and update your skills and pay overhead or booth rental and spend long hours on your feet trying to please people that really want anybody's hair but their own), I think it's going to work very nicely. I mean, I am only sacrificing computer and TV time, really. And I'll get a paycheck. Meager, but money nonetheless. Plus it gives me a great reason to get out of my PJ's before noon (or 1... or 3...). Wish me luck.

But I still have the OCD desire to post. Even though I'm boring. Plus, I tell myself, this is for posterity. Not for entertainment. I blog with purpose.

So today I'm posting about signs. Not traffic signs. Not sign language. Not the signs of the times. But cheer signs. I recently completed Lexee's yard sign. She had one last year, which was very similar, but this year, we (the parents) made them better. They are more Legend-y blue (really, about the only difference). They are meant to last for as long as a girl participates in cheer at LHS. (I won't tell you how Lexee has been chatting a lot lately about how she might not try out next year, so that little added bonus of being able to re-use it until graduation may not come to pass.) So here it is:

I worked very hard to capture a sparkle... can you see it there on bottom of the L? And we (the parents) had plenty of discussion about how to place our child's graduation year (start at the bottom and have it go up, or start at the top and have it go down), so if you think it's wrong, just know we spent a darn lot of time making the call. But I need to say, these are the best signs around.

So then I just had to show you Britta's sign:

This was in the yard for a good 3 years, which is why it looks so weathered and sun-bleached.

That made me think of all the other signs I've helped to make while being that supportive cheer parent (remember... I put it on my resume). Britta used to have to make a poster for school sports as part of tryouts. The girls would be assigned a sport, given the poster paper, and then they would turn it in on the first day of the tryout clinic. These posters would be used throughout the year during the various sports seasons (even if you didn't make the team). This was one of our first posters:

The next year we made this one:

Lexee's team doesn't do sports posters this way, so we haven't had to make any of these babies for a long time. Thank heavens. But I've made a couple of team posters for her:

Those there are some resume builders, let me tell you.

JK.

Sunday, August 22, 2010

Are You There?

I got up this morning and watched this little message:

Which reminded me of this post I read a few days ago, that even prompted me to comment (which I sometimes think is a little weird... commenting to someone you don't know like you're a best girlfriend offering your thoughts and advice). Then I thought about the weekend.

Yes, I went to the ward campout. For about 3 1/2 hours. And I have pictures to prove it.

Lexee couldn't come due to an intense weekend of cheer choreography, and Shilo didn't want to stay the night, so I planned to head home after dinner and the program. Bill and Mauri would stay.

We managed to squeeze Mauri's bike into the car (she was willing to sit in the middle seat with a tire over her head for the trip there), so we didn't see a lot of her the first few hours after we arrived.

Shilo and Cheyenne spent a lot of their time helping the younger kids on the zip line.

Bill arranged his and Mauri's sleeping arrangements for the evening:

Then we ate dinner, sat around the fire,

and enjoyed the talent show/skit program.

Mauri and her friend Lauren had planned a not-so-magic show for a skit, but since the program turned out to be more of a talent show(singing and playing instruments... one family showed up with drums, a keyboard, percussion instruments, and a guitar), and less of an open-stage skit night, they decided their comedic attempt would possibly not be appreciated.

Afterwards, I headed back home, to sleep comfortably in my own bed. The next morning I was up to take Lex to her practice (30 minutes away and she hates to drive by herself in unfamiliar territory), and get a few things done around the house.

So what does this have to do with the Mormon Message from this morning?

It has helped remind me again how much I appreciate my husband. After he and Mauri got home on Saturday, he told me about the great one-on-one time they were able to have together. He was willing to bring the bike, sleep (very uncomfortably, it turns out) overnight at the campout, and spend Saturday morning-into-midday doing what she wanted to do: hiking, nature-observing, and eating at Sonic. He listened to her talk (and that girl's a talker, let me tell you). He gave her his undivided attention.

And I got a little one-on-one with both Lexee and Shilo. And when those girls talk, I try to extend the conversation as long as possible. I have been reminded and motivated to make sure I am truly listening... giving my full attention.

4 1/2 more weeks, and I'll have another opportunity to practice. (Just in case you weren't aware.)

Friday, August 20, 2010

Zucchini Bliss and Erasable Pens

I got up this morning and made these:

Slightly overbaked, since I didn't take into consideration that I was using dark pans. And we live at a VERY HIGH altitude (which sometimes really throws things off). That solitary zucchini will at least be as thoroughly enjoyed as possible. Here's the recipe (with my addition of whole wheat flour), just in case you have more than one.

Zucchini Muffins

2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour

1 cup whole wheat flour

1 1/2 cups sugar

1 tsp. baking soda

1 tsp. baking powder

1 tsp. salt

1 tsp. cinnamon

2/3 cup skim milk

2/3 cup canola oil

4 large eggs

2 tsp. vanilla

3 cups shredded zucchini

Heat oven to 350 degrees. Spray muffin pans with non-stick spray or line with paper liners. In large bowl combine dry ingredients. In separate bowl combine wet ingredients, then add zucchini. Add wet mixture to dry and stir to combine. Divide among muffin cups. Combine 4 tsp. sugar and 1/4 tsp. cinnamon and sprinkle over muffins. Bake 25 to 30 minutes. Makes 24 muffins. (You can halve the recipe for 12.)

My friend Mindy has a chocolate zucchini cake recipe... sounds yummy! I hope my three sad little zucchini plants can eke out one more squash before the first frost. I looked the plants over today, and feel like it might take a miracle. But I believe that miracles happen. Maybe not zucchini miracles, but you never know.

And Mauri begged for an erasable pen after school yesterday. Remember those trends I talked about last year? Well, we're jumping right into the next new-best-thing in fourth grade. Erasable pens. Who would have thunk?

Luckily, we found some at Walmart. (And lest you think I'm eager to run out and purchase my spoiled child anything she asks for, I was going to Walmart anyway. If we couldn't find an erasable pen there, she wasn't getting one. I haven't seen or looked for them since I was back in junior high -- or whenever it was -- when they first made an appearance as the latest and greatest new writing instrument.)

Not quite like the pen that whoever-started-it has from Walgreens that is fat, bulky, and has boy-appealing flame graphics on it. But erasable. That's the important part.

Mauri's done every bit of homework with it since (and she had a lot, since she just brought home the assignments missed while we were out of town). She just can't wait to go show whoever that she has an erasable pen too. Oh, the simple days, when an erasable pen could make you happy.

Thursday, August 19, 2010

The Many Uses of Toilet Paper

A distraught girl + toilet paper + pen = note to Mom

She tossed it down from the loft, and it drifted slowly onto the family room floor.

Don't you love days like that?

The REST of the story is: Mauri wanted to go to the Ward Campout on Thursday. No, Bill answered, he needed to go to work on Friday, so we would just have to go that evening. So Mauri pouted. And grumped. And got all moody and teary-eyed. I told her we could just stay home, if she was so unhappy about not being able to go until Friday. I told her she should look at the bright side, and be happy she got to go camping, even if it was only for a night. And, I'll admit it, I said I would rather not go (but I never said the words "with you") IF she was going to be such a grump about it all. Then she moodily went upstairs to sulk. And write a note on the only thing she could find.

Of course I felt bad that she had misinterpreted what I had said. And Bill and I had a little chuckle about the toilet paper note floating through the air. Then we called her down to talk. And console. And soothe. We are still working out the details for the Ward Campout... (I may or may not be going, but certainly NOT because I don't want to be with my sweet youngest child).
I'm sure she will have a great time, regardless.

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

4 Minute Post

I've given myself 4 minutes to complete this post. Compulsive poster, that's me.

Here is the lone item our garden has produced this year. Pathetic. Not the zucchini, just the fact that it's the only thing that managed to grow in our clay-like, unconditioned soil. No rich brown furrows this year (or ever, since we've been here in Colorado).

I dream of raised beds, soft, rich soil, and home-grown vegetables aplenty. Maybe next year. If not, we might just build a shed on our little garden spot, so it can be useful. And it would cover up those weeds that have no problem growing there.

I think it's good for one batch of zucchini bread.

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Feel Good Family Night

I was going to quickly post this last night... but the girls needed the computer for homework. Math homework, which I am of absolutely NO HELP with. Their high school is very "technology forward," so they access all of their text books online. Bill rolled his eyes at me last night as the girls were in a tizzy over who was on the computer first. We do have two computers, but nobody wants to use the old, out-dated, extremely slow-loading one. It might make for a L-O-N-G school year.

But before this uncomfortable scene of Dad-helping-with-math-in-the-midst-of-angst, we performed service for FHE by helping clean the church. Out of the three families assigned (is it service if you're assigned?), we arrived last, so you may (or may not) know what THAT means. It means we got to do the "wet" cleaning... the bathrooms, kitchen, drinking fountains, and glass doors. Lucky us. Bill cleaned the base around those toilets in the men's bathroom like there was no tomorrow.

Shilo even spit-shined Taylor's missionary plaque. Can you see he is at the top? Our ward rotates them so they are in order of departure (at the bottom right) to arrival home (top left). We currently have 8 plaques up, and yessiree, Taylor's in the numero uno position. 5 weeks from tomorrow. (Mothers can do a count-down... it's okay, I promise.)

All done. Doesn't it feel good?

Sunday, August 15, 2010

Gimme S'more

Tonight we had the night off. Yep, that's right. No meetings, no home teaching, no nothing. Nothing but some good old quality family time. While we were in UT, I spotted the ginormous marshmallows my mother-in-law had told me about at a local Walmart. And in case you were wondering, yes, we have a Walmart here in our little town of Parker. They just don't sell these beauties:

Yum-O. So I bought them with the intent of finding some time, while in UT, to build a fire somewhere and roast them. They were so irresistible. But it didn't happen, so I brought them home.

Tonight was the perfect time to break them out, along with: