The melting point of a blue Pyrex dish lid is 350 degrees- just in case you were wondering. It only took about three minutes and the awful stench it created for me to realize that I hadn't emptied the oven before turning it on for lunch. Not enough cupboards = storing stuff in the oven. Tell me I'm not the only one.

This was also my melting point. Or at least my brain's. The great mystery of mortality for me is how I can go from being perfectly 'whelmed' to completely and totally overwhelmed in a few minutes. This resulted in my calling in my Husband as a reinforcement and to talk me down. After an afternoon of listing out everything I was doing, should be doing, and everything I wanted to do, the ultimate suggestion was made- that maybe it was time for me to quit my job.

This was so hard, for so many reasons, for me to even consider. But I did. Consider it, I mean.

I prayed and wrestled with the idea continuously for about three days. The answer that I received, while a little frustrating was also incredibly empowering. "It is your choice."

If I want to quit, I can quit. If I want to continue to work, then I should continue to work. But I have the blessing of choice. I choose where I spend my time. Every day when I make my list of what I'm going to do, I choose. I choose which activities I participate in. I choose which activities my family participates in. I even choose what I put in my mouth. (Ahem. *See detox diet*.) This was later confirmed when I had the opportunity the very next day to see a preview of Girl Rising. You should see it. I could write some more (lots more) about it, but for right now its most meaningful message is that I have a choice. That is an incredible blessing, one which I should be more grateful for.

Yesterday and a little bit of today's news.

I almost got out of having to come up with a "pixie-dust for Christmas" solution.

"Mom, I don't need pixie dust if Santa can bring me something much better!"

"What's better than pixie dust?"

"Nothing."

Grrrr-eat.

I love hearing what her pixie dust is going to solve and "magic". When her paints were confiscated due to getting them out (and leaving them out) without asking..."Fine! I'll just magic some with my pixie dust!"

This morning she is going to use her pixie dust on Mommy and Papa when they get old. "I'll magic you young again so you won't die."

She's become fascinated with my putting my make up on. She perches on the counter, a willing assistant-handing me each brush and tube while quizzing me for their uses. Her commentary is as amusing as the pixie dust conversations.

When I brought out the tweezers..."Mom, how did an eye brow hair get all the way over there!?"

Yeah, so I have a couple of uses for the pixie dust. But don't you think I'd have already asked for some if I thought Santa was capable, kid?

In other news, Porkchop has a couple owies from not slowing down. He will allow a Mickey Mouse band-aid on his hand. Only McQueen band-aids on his knees, but REFUSES a band-aid on his nose. "It no owie Mom."

He told us last night he was going to serve a mission if he could take his box of McQueen cars.

Juju doesn't say much at this point. She screeches like a Colobus monkey, which is always a lovely sound for the neighbors to ignore, I'm sure. Oh, she did say thanks after nursing last week which totally weirded me out and I promptly got on the "let's wean this kid" band-wagon. It hasn't worked. Pixie dust or no pixie dust I will wean and potty-train before the summer is through.

The diet is called Whole30. You can Google it, but basically it is a very strict paleo diet. After my monthly migraine left me unable to drive, or see clearly, and then hovering over the porcelain God I was kind of desperate. I was (almost) willing to give up tortillas (for like five hours). I decided it wasn't worth it.

As the long time Mayor and newly appointed Head Zoo Keeper, I worry about what is going into so many other mouths that by golly I'm going to enjoy what is going into mine. I do not eat unhealthily on a regular basis, though I do mention Flaming Hot Cheetos a little often lately. Can't help it. I love them! My new theory is that fear and stress are as carcinogenic and fattening as anything I'd put in my mouth, so for the time being I'll just make sure to move regularly and eat my fruits and vegetables. Maybe I'll cut down on the grapefruit. I really like those, too. I might have had three after dinner tonight, before the Flaming Hot Cheetos. Mercy! Good thing I don't have indigestion.

As for my new position as Head Zoo Keeper?...Like with any entry level job I am hoping there will be opportunities for growth and expansion. I'd like to see a future with two alpacas, a dexter calf, a couple of cashmere goats, some ducks, a sizzle chicken, and probably a Bernese Mountain puppy to help keep an eye on things.

I know some people think pets= more poop. While it's true there's more poop, I think the trade offs are worth it. The conversations that have been sparked with my kids about life and death, the responsibility, chores, learning to care for someone else, empathy, etc...all good stuff. Plus, they are cute. 'Peck' the cockatiel is turning out to have an affinity for my husband, but the bunnies are mine. Even if I let Scrunch name 'Gnomeo' to avoid having to name a future baby brother that. We originally brought home two new bunnies, but one went to live with a friend after hers died unexpectedly and rather tragically. 'Serendipity' was supposed to be for Scrunch and she was more than a little bent out of shape at first. After explaining the situation she was easily bought off with a pink fish named 'Sarah'.

These are newest members of our zoo.

Every night it's, "Please bless Mommy, Papa, Scrunch, Porkchop, Juju, Jedi, Chevy, Cadbury, Gnomeo, Peck, and Sarah." And if Porkchop is saying the prayer he adds, "John's V-truck (for SUV) and the minivan." And I mean every night. And if they forget one, or think they forgot one- they start over. Pretty much everyone gets blessed at least twice. This makes our zoo seem a little crazier than it really is, but what else would you expect from the Crazytown zoo?

No grains.
No dairy.
No sugar of ANY kind.
No carrageenan, MSG, or sulfates.
No legumes.
No alcohol.
No potatoes.

No surprise this little diet lasted all of six hours.

No matter. Today was the worst day on the planet to start a new diet. I'm craving Flaming Hot Cheetos, a bag of licorice nibs, and ice cream-any flavor. Maybe I'll just start cutting out the.......uh.......um......carrageenan? What's carrageenan again?

Sometimes I don't even know what to say.

About this time the last few years, Scrunch announces what she's going to ask Santa for Christmas. And while it may seem a little early, she hasn't wavered no matter how I try to influence her. Two years ago it was a pink kitty, and last year it was a pink puppy.

Last week the announcement came while I was doing her hair. And boy was she excited about it! "Mom, I know just what I'm going to ask Santa for Christmas!"

"Pixie dust. And then I will fly."

She has convinced Porkchop that they will get to fly on Christmas.

I am toast.

Also, she loves Alexander.

Alexander invited her to his birthday party at the zoo. I let husband escort her knowing he would enjoy the up close and personal animal encounter more than the kids. He reported back that Scrunch did not leave Alexander's side the entire party. In fact, she considered herself his honored guest and didn't seem to get that all the other kids that were there had been invited too.

Today after watching them play for a long time after school, I brought him up.

"I noticed you seem to like playing with Alexander a lot."

"Yes. I'm going to marry him."

"Oh. Well. You don't have to marry him. You can be really good friends. You might meet someone else you'd like to marry so maybe you should wait to decide."

"I can't Mom. I have to marry him. I want to play with him forever."

The least photographed, least frequently painted room in my house.

There is only one color of paint on each of these walls. For me, that's like a record. Everything except the leather couch was thrifted, Craigslisted, or free. So while the walls may have very little paint on them, all of the furniture got a coat or two.

I wanted really big art for over the couch, but really big art (that I like) is expensive. So I bought a $20 dollar projector on Craigslist and printed a transparency. Bam! Big chalk art that I can change out with the seasons. The ottomans used to be the green reupholstered ones, but they started to get grimy so I recovered them. The lighting is wonky- making it hard to see, but the lamps were painted with chrome spray paint and the shades are out of vintage knitting patterns. The old green door and most of the art came from that estate sale with the old drunk guy. The needlepoint above the armoire was someone's Grandma Edith. I bought it at a garage sale over the weekend for $2.00. I almost cried. I do stuff like that (knit, needlepoint, etc.) and it makes me throw up in my mouth at the thought that it will someday be sold by my ungrateful posterity for mere pennies. The trunk was my $4.99 trunk that I spray painted with chrome spray paint and used some gold rub and buff and Annie Sloan's dark wax to distress it. I put the legs on from an old kitchen table I had. The brass elephants were from a garage sale a few weeks ago and I made the 'Believe...' art with my Cricut and brass/white vinyl. I made a matching one for my Grandma's birthday a few weeks ago.

I need to finish the silhouettes for over the piano. Maybe I'll finish them and Peck can have a photoshoot. Can you see our cockatiel through the blurry pic? And how about our bunnies? Yes, plural. 'Gnomeo' and 'Serendipity' joined us on Friday. They deserve their own photoshoot, too. Eventually, I'd like a much larger light fixture, but this one was...you guessed it...free. It used to be in my Mom's kitchen. Homer and Marge are my ferns. I named them just as I was typing, but I think it'll stick should they make it through the summer. They came from Lowe's.

Remember my old, green, free piano? It's white now. I bought jute webbing on Ebay to cover the seat.

Manual Labor

Every night this week at about eleven o'clock I'd think, "Holy Crap! How'd it get so late?!?" and then I'd be a little bummed that I only got about half as much done as I'd hoped to. Every evening as soon as Papa came home from work we'd tag team digging holes, moving dirt, moving bark, moving more dirt, changing diapers, making dinner, moving more bark, digging more holes, and so on... Finally after a week of manual labor we got up early this morning and finished hauling the last of the dirt piles in the driveway. We had to be finished by nine so we wouldn't miss out on moving more bark. Our little project was really good practice for our Mormons Helping Hands assignment. We moved and renewed the playground park at three different parks. We are sunburn and sore and I have been (temporarily) cured of wanting to go the nursery and scope out plants for a while.



Front garden beds. We still need to repaint shutters, install new door, outdoor lighting...it doesn't end. But it's not anywhere near eleven o'clock and I'm finishing my ice cream and going to bed.

In Porkchop's version of heaven we all ride around on tractors.

Grumpy Garden Baby

All my tired helpers.