Who’s watching, again?

28 05 2009

Eden has recently been enthralled with the tweeny shows on the Disney Channel (Laugh Track, how I love thee!). Yes, I finally broke down and let her watch Hannah Montana. Yes, she can sing the theme song (with choreography). Is that bad?

An upstart of this is she now wants to go online at disneychannel.com or whatever (Playhouse Disney, I miss thee!). She printed this out the other day; it’s supposed to say “Please Do Not Disturb. I’m Watching The Suite Life of Zack and Cody” (those twins are hilarious), but the scissors went wrong somehow.


(Insert theme of The Twilight Zone here.) Creepy.

I Have Arrived

27 05 2009

I think I already used this as a post title, and recently, too. That other post, though, talked about instant mashed potatoes (you can make anything taste good with whipping cream) and this one doesn’t have anything to do with that.

I’m a guest blogger!

Yes, it’s true. Now I really have arrived.

Mrs. Olsen let me share some thoughts for her Testimony Tuesday spot this week. Check it out here, if you’re interested. Look around while you’re there–Mrs. Olsen is not only environmentally aware, she’s a great writer. And she’s funny. Also, I think she’s finally called off the bounty hunters she set on my trail months ago when I accidentally let it slip that Niki and I read her diary when we were younger. (She wrote about the time she locked the Nikster and me in the closet on her blog, but she forgot to mention the time she and Monica tied us up and left us in there. I say reading Bill was a small payment.) I can finally rest easy.



22 05 2009

The best day to shop for kids’ summer clothes is the Thursday before Memorial Day weekend. All the sales are on, but the malls are practically deserted! I realize this doesn’t help you much since today is Friday, but keep it in mind for next year, eh?


Also: Old Navy has plain flip flops on sale for $1. Saturday only.

But I already got flip flops (on Thursday) and happily paid $3.50 to avoid hoardes of crazy mall people.


Another thing I recently discovered is my new facial moisturizer (for some reason I can stomach the word “moisturizer” much more readily than the word “moist”) smells like a milder version of Deep Woods Off! which we slathered on during camping trips in my youth. It’s weird, because you’d think that a moisturizer smelling of insect repellent would be, well, repellent, but actually I find myself thinking of my grandma when I put it on. She would always sing, “I love the mountains, I love the rolling hills. I love the flowers, I love the daffodils . . .” Which are actually the wrong words, since daffodils are technically also a flower. What makes them so special that they get mentioned by name? I mean, I enjoy daffodils as much as the next person, but when you put them in a cut bouquet they ooze a substance that is poisonous to other flowers . . . so why the extra love? When I was in college, one of my roommates told me the correct words are “I love the rocks and rills”, to which I say “What in the crazy is a rill?” Because I don’t think I love them. I sing it both ways now, depending if I’m singing on auto-pilot or really thinking about the words. Good thinking, though, Grandma. Daffodils are much more pleasant than rocks and rills.

Can you believe I think about that every morning when I’m lotioning my face?

Me neither. But it’s the truth.

Homemade Microwave Popcorn

14 05 2009

I’ve been working on a post that isn’t coming together how I envisioned. It’s been taxing for me mentally and emotionally, so I’m setting it aside for the rest of the day.

Instead, I’m going to tell you how to make homemade microwave popcorn.

I love popcorn (especially that sweet/salty kettle corn combo) and microwave popcorn is always nice for the convenience factor. Once Zack was diagnosed with celiac, though, we’ve had to really cut back on our convenience foods, since a lot of times processing = adding gluten.

We have a great popcorn popper (thanks, Sam and Collette!) but it’s kind of a hassle to get out and clean when you just want a little snack. Imagine my happy surprise, then, when Eden brought home a recipe for homemade microwave popcorn. Huzzah!

In a paper lunch bag, pour 1/4 cup popcorn kernels.

Fold the top of the bag down a couple of times.

Microwave on high for 2 minutes. (This varies, of course, according to your microwave, so just do the normal microwave popcorn thing where you stop when the pops are more than 2-3 seconds apart.)

Top with whatever you like on popcorn. We like butter at our house. And salt for everyone except Zack.

That’s it. Enjoy.

The Hands of a Mother

10 05 2009

I wrote this little piece a few years ago, when I was thinking about hands. I remembered what my mom’s hands looked like when I was a kid, and one day I looked down at my own and realized they looked quite a lot like hers. There are no one’s hands I’d rather mine be like. Love you, Mom! Happy Mother’s Day!



            My mother’s hands are large.

            They are not lily-white, smooth, and dainty; but are tanned, calloused, and worn.

            My mother’s hands are strong. They tame bread dough with firm pushes and punches, pull hot taffy with artistry and flair.

            My mother’s hands create. They build instead of tear down. Their warmth enfolds my smaller hands as she teaches me to sew. They are patient, kind, nimble, and dependable. Whether meting out a punishment or wiping away a tear, they are sure.

            How do you get the hands of a mother? I wonder. I see in my mother’s eyes that hands such as hers do not magically appear. Hands practice and hands learn and trials teach the lessons they need to know.

            I am a mother now. Once again, my mother’s hands guide mine, positioning my newborn’s head just so, tucking in my elbow just right. I see his downy head tucked beneath her chin, her capable hands cradling his bottom and stroking his back, communicating love and steadfastness. “There, there, Little One,” they say. “Don’t you fret. I am here. You are loved.”

            When she leaves, I cry. She hugs me tight, pats my back, and whispers, “You’ll do just fine.”

            It is the middle of the night. My baby is crying, screaming, and I can’t seem to be able to get him to eat. Now I am crying, too, and I hold him close and try to pat his back just right. Soon, he quiets. I lay him on my lap and we look at each other. All of his fingers wrap around one of my own. Next to his precious new skin, mine looks tan, and it feels calloused and worn.

            My hands are large.

            They are learning to be the hands of a mother.


6 05 2009

My friend Tami is doing a “favorite” every day this month on her blog. Yesterday, she did her favorite site:


I have been laughing off and on about it all day.

I’m Back, and just in time for Cinco de Mayo

5 05 2009

I’m having a hard time writing this post.

I’ve been trying to do it for days, but every word feels like it’s being wrung from a dry rag.

April 2009 was undoubtedly the worst month of my life.

I’m not going to go into the reasons here. Frankly, they are too personal to share to all you lurking out in blog-land. (But that doesn’t mean I don’t love you.) Still, even though April was the worst month of my life, I also grew a lot.

I am now 7′ 4″.

I’m torn. Do I share some of the things I’ve learned? If so, how much? I’m still deciding.

Here’s one thing I’ve learned: you know all those times in the scriptures that say, “Ask and ye shall receive”? Well, it really works! A few years ago in my personal study, I began looking at a certain attribute. I said, “You know, I don’t really have a lot of that. But I’d like to.” I went through the topical guide and noted scriptures about this subject in my journal that made particular sense to me. For probably six months, I prayed pretty much daily that I would be given a measure of this godly attribute. I never heard a voice (still, small, or otherwise) saying: “You now have attained [fill in the blank with trait of your choice].” I eventually stopped praying for it, although I’d pray for it again in spurts when I felt like I’d slipped back into my worldly ways.

Fast forward to April, where some days I felt as though the only things holding me together were the clothes I was wearing. I was reading the conference Ensign from last October (I am somehow able to continue making the goal biyearly to read the last conference issue before the next one comes along, despite not making it time and again). In one particular article, I read one sentence (one sentence out of the entire Ensign) that made me stop to catch my breath. It was about that long-ago prayed for attribute.

And I realized I had it.

This wasn’t a little thing, either. It was BIG.

God changed my heart.  

Of course, looking at it intellectually I can say, “Of course He did. He’s God.” But to have it actually happen, and happen to me, and happen right when I needed it most, well, that’s humbling.

Knock and it shall opened.

Try it.