I broke my toe and a book review.

Well, I bashed it pretty good anyway, and I didn't even cuss. Out loud. I must be saving up all my special phrases so I can adequately describe and express my appreciation towards Utah drivers. We leave today for the blessed land of Southern Utah. It's going to be hecka hot. I hate that phrase. Hecka-this hecka-that. What the heck does it mean? It is going to be wicked hot. Now that makes sense.

Oy vey! That's when I thought after listening to The Memory Keeper's Daughter. Yeah, I know it's not on my book list, but it's a book. I don't know what I was expecting. Come on. Read the back and you know that it is not exactly going to be the Feel Good Book of the Year.

"This stunning novel begins on a winter night in 1964, when a blizzard forces Dr. David Henry to deliver his own twins.
His son, born first, is perfectly healthy, but the doctor immediately recognizes that his daughter has Down syndrome. For motives he tells himself are good, he makes a split-second decision that will haunt all their lives forever. He asks his nurse, Caroline, to take the baby away to an institution. Instead, she disappears into another city to raise the child as her own. Compulsively readable and deeply moving, The Memory Keeper's Daughter is a brilliantly crafted story of parallel lives, familial secrets, and the redemptive power of love."

See? Oy vey is right. I was warned, so what's my beef? The characters were not likeable. Except Phoebe. Dr. Henry epitomizes cowardliness, and you can't even like his wife throughout the book. The characters came off flat and you just plain don't really care what happens to them. I wasn't compelled to finish reading or deeply moved, unless you consider kicking Dr. Henry's arse movement. I'm starting to think "New York Times Best Seller" is not the endorsement one should consider when picking a good read. A little over rated but all in all it killed some time.

See some of you soon. (Which means I have to get off the computer now. Not that I'm making sense this morning anyway.)

First Six Months

Photo and video editing at www.OneTrueMedia.com

You've already seen most of these pictures. I see her and them everyday, and I still watch it over and over. It was put together for our birthmom for her six month pictures. Oh, and she is now 16 lbs and 28 3/4 inches long. Just in case you were wondering.

How do you eat an elephant?

One bite at a time.

Free Fun Day

Fly Lady is kicking my tukus. Seriously. But she has also changed my life. A little melodramatic? Maybe. But planning making dinner is now part of my routine. I'd say that qualifies as a major step. Thankfully, Tuesday is Free Fun Day. I've got all kinds of fabulous crafting to finish/start. Too bad for you they are all for Birthdays and birth days so I can't post any pics. Did you know that August is the best month for a birthday? It is the only month that does not have a nationally recognized holiday. Therefore, we should consider August 6th national Birthday Day. Just a thought. HINT. Hint. Hint. hint. hint.

Shameless, I know. But this makes it easier on the Handsome Husband. If I've learned anything from being married for five years is that you have to be very clear. You do not wait for them to notice your new haircut. You say, "Dear, I got my haircut. Do you like it?" You're happy. They're happy. Everybody wins.

I Want a Nap

It is nine-thirty on a Monday morning and I'm already ready for a nap. The old me would have stayed in my pajamas today and taken the said nap, but the new me curses instead and gets showered, dressed and starts the laundry. Stupid organization. Stupid to-do lists. Stupid Fly Lady.

Oh yeah, and I've been guilted into beefing up my food storage. Stupid rolled oats. Where am I going to store these?

A Labor of Love

For the last few months any spare time for Gramps has involved "making big pieces into little pieces" to build a family heirloom for Little Miss. After much sanding, time, energy, effort, and love- the crib is complete.

And Grami (Yeah it changed again. Grami- like Tami.) made a quilt to coordinate.

Thank you, Gramps. For everything. We love you.

Crash Landing

The masses have descended on our place for a sleepover, making things a little cozy. There actually are beds and assigned sleeping arrangements but everyone just kind of stayed wherever they fell asleep. That is until Jordan got up to go to the bathroom and Ani and Jedi snuck into his spot. He must have been too tired to have them move because this is what I found when I woke up this morning.

I was giving Jess and Jordan a hard time about sleeping in the same room when Jordan pointed out that Jess was over there and he was snuggling with the dogs. I made a rule that I got parental rights to any children conceived in my home. Consider that a warning to any future visitors.


Little Miss however has her own special spot. Snuggling with her new Baby Dumbo from Grammie. And I have changed the spelling of Grammy at my mother's request. She has this thing about unique spellings. Hence my first given name.

And I wasn't kidding about all crepes all the time. I have two pounds of raspberries to wash and four pounds of strawberries to hull. I will come back when I have pictures that do not qualify as black mail paraphernalia.

I am a crappy feminist.

I adore my child. But let's face it. The conversation skills of a six month old child (even the cutest baby in the universe) are somewhat limited. In order to not lose my mind and not baby talk my way through life, I enjoy reading things that make me stop and think. I have a couple in my link list. One, by it's very title I know makes some women, especially LDS women uncomfortable. That is precisely why I like it. I thought that if anyone was going to be a Mormon Feminist Housewife it would be me. I love the idea of a feminist housewife. There is an entire movement of women shifting into this role throughout American society and it is awesome to see! It sounds like an oxymoron but the concept of 'I can be anything I want to be and I CHOOSE to be a mom' is what feminism is all about. To the bra burning feminists, I am a crappy feminist.

So, fine. I'm a crappy feminist.

• I am a crappy feminist because I have no problem whatsoever with the fact that men hold the Priesthood and women do not.
• I am a crappy feminist because I recognize that there are differences among the sexes. Not good bad, better, or worse- just differences and recognizing those differences makes you stronger as a woman.
• I am a crappy feminist because I love Dr. Laura.
• I am a crappy feminist because I TRY to vacuum and have dinner on the table when my husband gets home.
• I am a crappy feminist because I believe that a woman's place is the home.
• I am a crappy feminist because I don't think that getting an education prior to having a family is a waste.
• And the number one reason I am a crappy feminist is that there is no way on the planet I would ever burn my bra. (My boobs would be totally lost without it. So lost, they'd not exist.)

Good thing I'm not really a feminist. I'm a Feminist Housewife.

Breakfast for Dinner

It's no secret that my kitchen skills are limited. I just figure there are different professions for a reason. I'm not a cook or a chef. Had I wanted to be, I would have studied something different in school. The only real reason I cook is so that I know what is in the food I'm eating and so that we don't starve. Can I help it that some of my favorite foods are dehydrated or available in can form? Little Miss thinks I'm the greatest cook in the world because I can whip up a mean batch of formula and smashed whatever vege-of-the-day. I consult cookbooks for instructions on boiling water. OK, I'm not that bad but that is one of my dad's oldest and lamest jokes.

One of my memories of Grandma is having breakfast for dinner. It was this special thing that I LOVED when we were little and living with her. I was thinking about it and now I realize it is because breakfast foods are fast and easy- totally worthy of conning small children into thinking it's cool. Last night that's exactly what I did. And I have bragging rights today!!!! I even called my parents who were suitably impressed. I made PERFECT crepes stuffed with Parmesan, mushroom, spinach and TEMPERED a lemon egg sauce. That's only after I Googled what the heck temper meant, but it worked. No one was more surprised than me that it actually worked, trust me. It is such a momentous occasion, I considered taking on a new name. Stands with a Spatula (Another memory of a fabulous movie!) Now you can come to my house and not starve. Good thing crepes are versatile- mushroom spinach crepes, berry filled crepes, bacon bit crepes, crepes with syrup, shrimp crepes. OK, I have to stop before the movie references get out of hand. I've got breakfast to make.

Four Letter Words

There are certain four letter words that you do not use in our house. You must think carefully of the consequences before you let them fly out of your mouth without thinking. Hand gestures are okay. You can sign them, even finger spell them.You might get away with spelling them aloud, but this too should only be done after careful consideration. It can't be in the heat of the moment or if you don't really mean it. The words are B-I-K-E or W-A-L-K. And you will get your mouth washed out with soap if you say "Let's Go" without putting your money where your mouth is. Ani and Jedi take this offense VERY seriously. You'll end up in the dog house if you're not careful, and Ani holds a grudge.

Memories

My migraine is gone. Yay! But it means I can now catch up on reading, so I wont write much today. I'm going to let you do the writing.

1. As a comment on my blog, leave one memory that you and I had together. It doesn’t matter if you knew me a little or a lot, anything you remember! (And if you only know me through blogging, then leave your favorite post and why you keep coming back! :) )

2. Next, re-post these instructions on your blog and see how many people leave a memory about you. It’s actually pretty funny to see the responses. If you leave a memory about me, I’ll assume you’re playing the game and I’ll come to your blog and leave one about you. If you don’t want to play on your blog, or if you don’t have a blog, I’ll leave my memory of you in my comments.

Monday Brat

I woke up with a migraine which is actually a good thing if it isn't because I'm dehydrated, it means my most recent medical interventions are working! Migraines put me in a FOUL mood, but hey if it means not cramping till the cows come home, anxiety attacks in Costco, or bleeding to death, I will take a monthly migraine while my body adjusts. In the mean time, I have some random thoughts.

• Last week I read some one's Monday post which read "Happy Sunny Monday!" What is it about my contentious pot-stirring nature that wants to paintball their garage or at least T.P. their yard before the sprinklers come on? I don't, but I seriously wanted to.

• I don't mind giving Sacrament talks. As husband pointed out yesterday, in the five years we've been married we have moved eight times and we either speak when we move in, move out, or both. I have a theory that it is the bishoprics test drive before they give you a calling. Knowing this, I have (in a previous ward) threatened inactivity if they called me to the nursery. Yes, I know I'll probably burn for that one, too. And again my theory was proved to be true because we got callings during Sunday School.
  

• I cycle through breakfast foods eating the same thing for breakfast for a week or two. It vacillates (BIG Monday morning word, I know) between yogurt, a banana and Trader Joes peanut butter granola bars, instant oatmeal with blueberries, and a bagel and cream cheese with fruit. I eat one of these combos everyday until I'm sick of it and then I switch. This week I'm back on oatmeal with blueberries, which means I have to go to Costco this morning. Costco on Monday? Happy sunny Monday my butt.

• Yesterday, during one of the greatest Relief Society lessons I've been to in a long, long time the teacher said she had Foot In Mouth Syndrome which she is trying to overcome, but that she also has Hand to Mouth Syndrome which she tries less hard to control, hence her current weight. I almost fell off my chair laughing.

• I would NEVER want to be the person who says something stupid like "you just have to have more faith", but really- what do you say to someone who can't catch a break besides "Geez, I'm so so so so sorry. That totally sucks!"? At the risk of being the person who has a flare up of FMS (Foot in Mouth Syndrome), I did read something in Meridian Magazine this morning that I thought WOW! "It says 'And it came to pass.' Not, 'and it came to stay'."

So if you are having a crappy Monday morning that may extend possibly into a crappy week, just know that you've got a friend who is totally up for paint balling some one's garage or T.P.-ing their lawn if you need one. (That includes chemistry professors.)

I've still got it.

No, not speaking in Sacrament. Although that is how I first attracted my husband. Long story, but ultimately ends with "and they lived happily ever after" so I will spare you the details. My mad nap taking skills. I can sleep anytime, anywhere. It's been a while since I have taken a nap in the middle of the afternoon and was thinking maybe I'd lost my touch, but I still got it. I asked Jess to watch Little Miss for a few minutes while I went to lay down- three hours later. It was awesome. I woke up just in time to go back to bed.

Can't blog now...

I have to write my talk.

Only Because I Love You

To prove that I'll still be your friend even though you like Twilight, I am answering Holly's tag. Holly is freakin hilarious people! You should tell everyone you know to find her a baby. I do.

3 Joys:
1. Little Miss and her puppies (their Papa too)
2. Chocolate pomegranate popsicles from Costco
3. Yarn

3 Fears:
1. Losing something- I hate to lose things. I have a habit of hiding things in 'special' places so unique that I wont forget where I put them, and then I do and I can't find them for days. I hate to lose things. I feel like I'm losing my mind.
2. Falling- It's not heights that are scary. It's falling that is scary.
3. Little Miss rolling off the bed. I almost called Handsome Husband about this the other day while at work, just in case he might place her on the bed- for even just a second. It freaks me out.

3 Goals:
1. Join or start a local chapter of FSA (Families Supporting Adoption)
2. Play Ballade Pour Adeline on the piano
3. At some point today I'm going to take a shower. Maybe.

3 Obsessions:
1. Blogging
2. Little Miss and her blasted bows
3. Craigslist, ebay, and Google I will actually make up a place, find a house there and decorate it with virtual crap off craigslist, ebay and then I google for fabrics, furniture, and other crap pretending I'm spending someone elses money.

3 Random Facts:
1. I have been to the infamous Neverland Ranch.
2. I have ridden an elephant.
3. I have had a Brazilian bikini wax. (Yes, there is a BIG difference)

I tag the lurker from Shingle Springs that is reading mine and Holly's blog and has yet to identify themselves, Jordan formerly known as Elder Meraz (which means you have to start a blog now. Ha ha!), Casey because she's got five kids so she can't possibly have anything else better to do, Grandma the Needlenut because I think she just peed her pants that I told everyone about my waxing, and Aunt Marti because she needs a break from driving after making a 30 hour drive across country.

How To Play This Game of Tag: Post these rules on your blog. List: 3 joys, 3 fears, 3 goals, 3 current obsessions/collections, 3 random surprising facts about yourself. Tag 5 people at the end of your post by leaving their names. Let them know they are tagged by leaving a comment on their blog!

And the verdict is....

Creepy. Thank you for all of you who said it was cute. I let Little Miss decide and she actually looked scared of the thing. Then my sister pointed out that the creepy doll looked like she had a beard. I told her it was a PCOS doll and let Ani rip her to shreds. Take that infertility causing diagnosis. Spoiled brat dog. She doesn't even know it. She gets hand-embroidered dog toys. Sheesh.

And the other major life confirming verdict....Not a fan of Twilight. If you got me to answer my phone yesterday afternoon you must rate high on the priority list (or be totally relentless in calling) because I listened to Twilight yesterday. As far as a fluffy Friday afternoon listens go, it was okay. If you liked it, yay for you. What do I know? I didn't like or even read most of Harry Potter. I admit being sucked in for a few hours but then I started thinking about it and there were a couple of things that bugged me.

Does anyone else find it a little odd that so many women have a literary crush on a seventeen year old boy? I mean, I know he's a vampire and a hundred years old, but I guess I'm just saying we never got over high school. The fact that he was a vampire was the only redeeming quality in my book. Mostly he was just moody. And they argued and bickered the ENTIRE book. No I love you more. No I love you more. Noooo, I LOVE YOU MORE. Well, I'm older so I must love you more. SHUT UP!!!! You love each other. But how would you know. You never talk about anything besides how good looking you think each other is. And then you end up at Prom? Oh, give me a break. Maybe I'm just jealous because I never went to prom, much less with a vampire. Nah, it's still totally cliche and lost points with me to end like that. And the other thing to bug me...I liked the name Isabella, or Bella. And now I can't use it for at least five years without looking like a total goob. Dang it.

Again, if you liked it, Yay you! I'm just saying that I probably wont read the others. I do have to give Stephanie Meyers credit for really thinking the whole vampire thing through. And I admit that Edward sounds totally hot. But notice I don't have a Twilight Addict blog badge. Ultimately I was right, Jack Weyland for grown ups.

Creepy or Cute

Crafting around here has been totally lame. I'm just not feeling it. And then last night while surfing I saw these Matryoshka dolls and for some reason I thought Little Miss needed one. So I dug out some scraps and walah! Creepy, eh? I haven't decided if it's creepy or cute. If it's cute I'll give it to Little Miss, if it's creepy I'll give it to Ani and let her do the dirty work.


Oh to be an artist! Beautiful people, living in beautiful places, and making beautiful things. Like her, her, and her. I just Google what I'm looking for and hack ideas. So sad. But it gets the job done.

My crafting as of late has taken a pathetic nose dive. I made more barrettes. We now officially have enough for a set of triplets.

And I have started a soft, touch and feel book for Little Miss. Page 4 is The Hedgehog. He is my favorite. I had a hedgehog when I was little. He was an Easter present one year and we named him Koosh. Baby hedgehogs are the creepy cutest things ever! I am at a point where my husband says no more pets until we have children old enough to take care of them. The current deal is that he deals with the animal poop and I deal with the baby poop, so I can't blame him for not wanting to take care of one more litter box.

So, not only am I a wannabe artist, I also live vicariously through my sister as she embarks on the adventure of becoming a vet= endless access to all kinds of creepy cute creatures. I am currently a knitting-crocheting-nurse-mommy-wife. But I really wanna be a ranch-living-horseback-riding-artist who gets paid tons of money for her ideas-mommy-wife. Wouldn't that be cool?

Subtle Hint

Make an on-line slide show at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Handsome Husband took this video the other day, and by his comments it seems he may be trying to give me a not so subtle hint. It is true. I do not wake up like that. But could she really wake up like that every day? Yeah, pretty much.

I wake up more like this.


It's not so much that I mind waking up, but heaven help you if you wake me up. It seems that I have some things to learn from my kid.

Proof is in the Pictures

Oh, yes. It is true. What? There wasn't a national telecast? I'm surprised. I thought Jess would have text-ed everyone in the Western Hemisphere or at least everyone we know in California. The long awaited missionary is home. And I have proof. But first we have a very important subject to discuss. A picture says a thousand words, right? Well this one only says 31. But 31 very important ones.

"Aunt Goose, You better be bringing me a huge present or at least a Popsicle, or at least a book because I missed both of my naps today while your possible future in-laws pinched my cheeks."


I really just wanted to post this picture with the caption, "Looks like his parasite was a little worse than we thought." And not call her. But I'm not that mean.


Oh, is this what you're looking for? Everyone gag while Jessica swoons. She hasn't seen these pics yet.

Poor kid. He's totally shell shocked- having a hard time with his English. His only response to me, "Todavia son feos." Translation- "They're still ugly."


Nice to have you back, kid. Somebody missed you.

A Huge Favor

Getting free babysitting out of my sisters has never been an issue. They fight over it, but now it will be even easier to get any favor I desire out of Aunt Goose. Because today I will be standing at the airport wearing my "ugly" Crocs, Little Miss in hers, and holding the most obnoxious neon green sign that says- "On behalf of Jessica P.- WELCOME HOME ELDER MERAZ." You owe me big time chica.

Summer Reading

The summer between fifth and sixth grade my parents offered me a penny for every page I read. I think I made the easiest $50 bucks that summer. Yup. That is five THOUSAND pages and at eleven years old, I'd say that is one of my greatest accomplishments. Since then, my mad reading has toned down and I'm lucky if I read ten books a year. We thought not having t.v. would help, but I don't know if it has. We are proof positive that cable falls under the category of want, not need. My DSL connection however is definitely a need.

Summertime seems to be the time of reading. Everywhere you look (Ok, mostly just at Borders or Barnes and Noble, but still.) there seems to be a 'must read' list. I am succumbing to what I think is a marketing ploy because you really don't have more time to read in the summer than you do any other time of the year, but whatever. Fine. I give. I will read this summer. I'm not going to make fifty bucks, but maybe I'll hit at least 500 pages.

My goal is to either listen to or read the following by Sept. 1.

Twilight by Stephanie Meyer Yes. Another way I am giving in to peer pressure. All I can say is that with all the hype, it better be good. I'm thinking of this as Jack Weyland for grown-ups and not expecting anything earth shattering.

Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follet

Queen Bees and Wannabes Rosalind Wiseman

Water for Elephants by Sarah Gruen

Host by Stephanie Meyer

The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd.

This is my fluffy book list and doesn't count my endless on-line research into whatever the heck I feel like. You really can learn a lot from the Internet, but I guess reading out of an actual book is good too. I'm having a hard time with this because now my quiet time is going to be split between reading and knitting and ask anyone in my house, when up against knitting- knitting usually wins. I asked Handsome Husband if we should consider bulking up our food storage and he asked me if we could boil down yarn into a broth and that if we could, we should be covered. He thinks he's so funny.

Don't Roll Your Eyes At Me

In a lot of ways I am an old lady trapped in a young person's body. I have heard that since I was a little girl. Everyone would tell me I was six going on thirty six. But I never really thought too much about it. I hung out with old people and I knit for a hobby WAY before it was made cool by Julia Roberts. Doesn't everyone? I never had to think about it because I've always been young. Younger than most of my friends. Youngest in my graduating class in both high school and nursing school. Definitely younger than almost ALL of my patients. Younger than most of my co-workers. I even fulfilled every Mia Maid's dream of marrying an 'older' man. Yes, I was a Mai Maid when Husband left on his mission. Naturally I just thought this would continue. And then last night (insert deep exasperated sigh here), I realized I'm older than the new Miss Universe. I don't think I'm okay with that.

Bringing out Nurse Ratched

As a home health nurse I have the privilege of doing A LOT of paperwork. It's a little ridiculous if you ask me, but I would like to add one more piece to review with each patient I see. I want it printed on BRIGHTLY colored paper. Maybe we'll embellish it with stickers just so it doesn't get missed. And it will say the following-

Dear Patient,

I do not get paid enough to care for the both of us. If you don't care about your health, well then quite frankly you better have a damn good reason why I should. It is your choice. I'm only here to help, but if you're going to be a jerk wad- just don't. It is not a good idea to piss off the nurse that is about to change your catheter. I promise that I have better things to do on a Sunday afternoon than to deal with your cranky, embittered attitude. If you're going to ignore all the medical advice I share, not do a damn thing to change your lifestyle, or even make an attempt to be polite, then just tell me now and quit wasting my freakin' time. Honestly, I will not be offended if you say, "Listen Nurse Ratched..I know you're trying to help, but I'm really not interested." I will likely thank you for your honesty and be on my way.

Seriously people. Be nice to your nurse. You might be in a lot of pain or be embarrassed that you're in a situation where you have to have someone wipe your butt, but being a jerk-wad doesn't make it any more pleasant for the person who has to do it.

Don't Eat Yellow Snow

Writing every day is getting old. It's all about quality not quantity, right? Wrong. It's about me having something that I can check off my to-do list every darn day no matter how lazy I decide to be. It's now part of my morning ritual to wake up and share some words of wisdom that I either pull out of nowhere or share how not to get on my bad side. Today, I got nothin'. Don't eat yellow snow. (Unless you're Bear Grylls. Then you're getting paid.) That's something, right? I told Handsome Husband that and he said, "you're really digging at the bottom of the barrel, huh?" Nope. It could get soooo much worse. We haven't hit the knock-knock jokes yet. Hope you learn something more profound in RS.

Cutest Baby In the Universe Episode 4

Yeah. We think she's pretty cute. It's not like we're saying, "oh look what a beautiful baby we made!" That's why I don't feel bad saying our baby is the cutest baby in the universe!

It's 7/11 so we should all get Slurpees

I forgot to add that in order to celebrate from afar My Miqui's birthday, we will get a Slurpee. You should get one too. There should be a mad rush to 7-11 after you read this to get a Slurpee to celebrate my sister's birthday. Ready? Set. Go. It's okay. You can have one Slurpee a year for breakfast. How bad could that be? You just substitute the caramel food coloring in your Diet Coke with blue food coloring.

Prevailing thoughts.

Teething totally, completely, without a question sucks.

Happy Birthday Miqui! and I am the crappiest big sister on the planet since your Birthday card is going out TODAY and not three days ago when it would already be there for your big day. You are still my favorite. Miqui is all our favorites. She is The Baby. The little girl. The only one of my mother's children to be allowed Teddy Grahams in Sacrament meeting and whose homework I did so she didn't have to.

Happy Birthday!

Everything looks a little hazy

There are things in life we do not understand. Just because we don't understand them, doesn't make them less true. God loves us and wants us to be happy. Some day it will all make sense. Some will get to Heaven and be surprised at who else is there. And others will be surprised they made it.

I have spent the morning doing research and reading on some subjects that I have had a personal conflict with. In trying to get clarity and a more defined perspective or a solid stance on the issue, all I've been able to come up with is that.

I know I'm being vague and a little abstract. Trust me- I have debated all morning back and forth, typing away madly and then backspacing just as ferociously, and ultimately deciding that this is not the time or place to have this conversation. But I couldn't leave you hanging without a post. Just wanted you to know we're out here in the smoke (more than a little ironic), watching a movie marathon while we wait for it to clear.

Cutest Baby in the Universe Episode 3: The Baby Parrot

I have been asking Handsome Husband for a parrot for a couple of years. He says they are too messy, noisy, and a lot of work. So, what's the difference between that and kids?

Make video montages at www.OneTrueMedia.com

She is the cutest parrot baby in the universe!

Soap Box

I have a doctor's appt. today, which has me a little on edge. I hate doctor's appts. Nurses make the worst patients. And I find myself on a very large soapbox this morning. If you have never TTC or charted BBTs or kept a written record of how many times you've done the BD, then you may be very bored or not get this at all. But come back tomorrow. I will likely be down from my very tall soapbox by then. I can't stay up here forever. I'm afraid of heights, you know.

So here is the deal. For some women infertilify IS the diagnosis. For whatever reason the woman is by all appearances healthy and no reason can be found to attribute to their infertility. (Very annoying.) For others there is a known cause that's just a real pain in the butt to try and fix. (Also very annoying.) And for others, infertility is a symptom of another medical problem (Again, very annoying.) But most annoying of all is when people (who are often well-meaning), stick their nose in someone's business and point out very obvious suggestions that a friend of a friend's cousin's hair-dresser's dog groomer used to get pregnant-with twins! So unless you know a person VERY well. So well that you discuss your BBTs and charting the BD, then offering advice like "just relax" or "try not to think about it" to someone without a uterus isn't going to be much help, is it? This video sums it up beautifully.



For the record I am not TTC. And for probably not the last freakin time! Adoption is not a cure for infertility. And I kind of resent the insinuation that we would bring a child into our home and love her and raise her in the hopes of getting knocked up. Now you can say what you want to me. I am a big girl. I can take it. But if you ever, at any point, make my kid cry or make her feel like less, then it is personal. VERY personal! And I will rip your arms off and beat you with them!

To some good friends, and soon to be good friends, and all that they have been through, all that we have been through, and to all those girls who have yet to go through it- this is my shout out to the IFC! You are a tough chick. This totally sucks. Life is not fair. I love you!

If you have been a good sport and not been frightened away by my rant and have read along anyway, then I will share a tip with you. The greatest, most supportive, comforting thing a friend who did not have a perspective on this ever said to me was, "...I'm so sorry. I can't imagine how you must feel..." This is why I refer to her as Saint Keep-her-name-confidential-because-she-reads-my-blog.

**FYI** Should you ever find yourself in an infertility forum, or completely lost on my blog, this is what they are talking about. RE= Reproductive Endocrinologist, TTC= try/trying/tried to conceive, BBT= basal body temperature, BD=Baby Dance, OPK= Ovulation Predictor Kit,IFC= Infertile Club

To-Do Lister

I am a chronic, borderline obsessive, to-do lister. They work wonderfully, but I tend to drive myself (and occasionally my husband) nuts with the to-do listing because when one is finished I start another one. Nothing is ever done. I always have something to 'get done' even if its stuff that I've made up just so I can have a list. That's sick. One of my favorite lists to do is my Power of 10 list. I've talked about it before but just in case you had something better to do than read my blog that day (and by the way I forgive you)- I will share it again.

The theory is that you pick ten projects and then work on them for three hours at a time rotating through. The idea is that then you don't get bored of a project and you are always getting something done. You continue rotating them through until all ten projects are complete. As you complete one, you add another- thus never actually completing your Power of 10 projects but you are constanting getting things done. See why this works for me? Except I've gotten off track and now I have so many half-done, would-love-to-start projects in mind that I'm spinning my wheels and getting no where. Time for a to-do list. And a Power of 10 to-do list at that.

1. Anais top

2. State of Grace quilt

3. Knitting Biology

4. Halweh top

5. Cobblestone Baby vest

6. Pom-pom Peds

7. Astrid

8. Felted needle case (my own pattern)

9. Minkee Zebra

10. Babette blanket

And this does not count the never-ending project from Hades, Lizard Ridge. I don't normally knit afghans because I have the attention span of a gnat and this is seriously killing me.

Party Pictures

These are Handsome Husband's birthday pictures. There is also embarrassing video of me singing Happy Birthday by myself and pictures of my bowling score, but this is my blog so I decide what to share.

Everything, including bowling and getting old, are more fun with Little Miss around.


Teething sucks.

Saint Jed puts up with everything.


Princess Ani on the otherhand pretty much told me where I could stick the stupid hat, and is now not talking to me. Teenagers.


And Little Miss pretty much goes with the flow on everything.


We had to move our picnic inside because at 6:30PM it was still 100 degrees outside.


Boys never grow up. They are happy with glow sticks and lots of fire.


He hates cake so at our house we have Birthday Creme Brulee. And the glow sticks were fun until Ani and Little Miss decided to start chewing on them.

Happy Birthday to YOU!!!!

If We Didn't Have Birthdays
-Dr. Suess

If we didn’t have birthdays, you wouldn’t be you.
If you’d never been born, well then what would you do?
If you’d never been born, well then what would you be?
You might be a fish! Or a toad in a tree!
You might be a doorknob! Or three baked potatoes!
You might be a bag full of hard green tomatoes.
Or worse than all that…Why, you might be a WASN’T!
A Wasn’t has no fun at all. No, he doesn’t.
A Wasn’t just isn’t. He just isn’t present.
But you…You are YOU! And, now isn’t that pleasant!

Where I Stand

I have at times (OK even this morning) poked fun at some of the ‘cultural’ aspects that are sometimes involved in the association of such a life encompassing belief system like the LDS church. Some may call me irreverent, or disrespectful, but I feel the need though to make some things clear about where I stand. In order to do that- it will take some background, some rambling, and a longer than usual post.

I have often wondered if I hadn’t been born into the church if I would have listened to the missionaries and accepted what they taught as true. The way we expect ourselves to live and invite others to do is some tough stuff. It takes time, and effort, and it’s not as easy as we sometimes quip with Sunday School answers. I’m not complaining here, just wanting to give some background on where I’m coming from. I have never had the luxury of blindly believing anything as some who criticize the church and our beliefs at times assume. I was very young when I had to decide for myself where I stood and why I believed what I did. Maybe that’s why I feel I have the right to poke fun at some things, because we’ve got to have a sense of humor about ourselves, or we’re going to lead a very miserable existence.

My membership and dealings in the church have not always been rosy and sweet. I was six when my Stake President biological father was ex-communicated from the church. I don’t remember a lot about our family involvement in the church in the few years that followed, but one experience sticks out. And it’s not nice. My mom was working nights at the time and some weekends and Dave was not active. I must have been six, maybe seven or eight- I don’t remember. But I remember getting up one Sunday, getting dressed and walking to primary. By myself. When I got to Primary all I remember is the kids teasing me because I was wearing a skort, not a skirt. Kids can be cruel, but these kids knew better. We were in Utah after all and I’m sure they had at least one FHE lesson on kindness. So there I am- a little girl wondering why in the hell I’m coming to church anyway. I must have known it was true. And at eight years old evaluating why I believe what I believe.

A few years later after my parent’s divorce I was visiting Dave in Mexico when one night the subject turned to Tithing. It was not a pleasant conversation. Here is a twelve year old girl defending the principle of tithing against someone who was not only an authority figure, but someone who KNEW the doctrine. He knew the scriptures, the teachings, all of it. He had served as a missionary, a stake president for crying out loud. So, at twelve I again have to evaluate why I believe what I believe.

Now I’m married and we’re ready to start our family. I think every girl secretly fears that she will never marry or bear children. We harp on it so often in so many lessons that it is only natural you would feel like a failure or ripped off when it doesn’t happen. So I’m struggling living in the rabbit hutches of Wymount and apparently infertile, when someone makes a comment to a good friend of mine about how “Yannette’s not the mommy type. She’s more of a career girl. Look at what she has going for her.” Well, the girl knew about my recent promotion to nursing management, but obviously that was all she knew about me. And then another girl, well-meaning but ignorant says to me “You just have to have more faith and then you’ll get pregnant.” So at twenty-one I again evaluate why I believe what I believe.

Our testimonies cannot be based on what others say or do, or how they make us feel whether they be good or bad. My experiences- in and out of the church, have often caused me to reflect on what it is I believe and why I believe it. There is and is going to continue to be some pretty nasty things said about the Church and its members over the next few months. This has always been the case, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it got a little more in your face.

Being a religious conservative has not always carried the friendliest of connotations, but now some will distort them into also labeling us as homophobic, racist, or bigoted. This breaks my heart and I have some things to say about labels later, but for today I just want you to know that I am so grateful for these experiences in my life that have made me stop and think. Many times when counsel is given from the pulpit, I often squirm knowing that there is something I need to improve or change in my life. If I’m being really prideful or hard headed I will roll my eyes. But today I just felt really, really grateful when the Bishop stood and gave this counsel. “Be sure in where you stand and your knowledge in the gospel because the time is coming where you will be questioned by those around you and you will need to know where you stand.”

What can I say except been there done that? On a regular basis whether by my own curiosity into certain doctrines or because I’m asked to by others, I have evaluated what it is I believe and why I believe it. Most recently it came in the form of an e-mail in which I sent to someone. Since it is Fast Sunday (even though it doesn’t go very fast :), especially for those of you with the 2-5PM block schedule) I will share with you my testimony which I wrote in that e-mail.

“P.S. Please allow me to expound on some of MY beliefs…

I know that the Book of Mormon is true. I’ve read it. There is truth there and light and understanding when its principles are applied.

I can tell the difference between an induced “chemical experience” and feeling the Spirit and I can tell you that I have had experiences in my life where I have prayed and I have received divine intervention and guidance from the Spirit whether it be in the temple, my bedroom, a patients home, or as my daughter came into this world and into our family.

I believe that God does call prophets just as he calls a father to head his home, or a mother to nurture her child, to lead and guide his children. I love these men. I am grateful for their love, examples and sacrifice. They are not perfect and I know that. God loves us all anyway.

I also know that Jesus Christ is our Savior and example. I believe in the Atonement and all that it encompasses. What a gift from our Father in Heaven!

But of most comfort to me is that I KNOW that I have a loving Heavenly Father who loves me. He listens to me and he knows my name. He loves all of his children. He is not scary or mean, but only loving and fair. He has to be. We have nothing to fear except for our own guilt and shame which are tools the Adversary uses to tear us apart.

And I write this in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.”

Fast Sunday

Fast Sunday is one of my favorite meetings. Either the Spirit is strong or it is hecka' hilarious! You know you've thought so too. We have all sat in a testimony meeting that was a little too much Twilight Zone-ish. This song has made it around in e-mails a few times, but I still think it is funny.

Bad Idea

The only thing worse than grocery shopping when you're hungry is grocery shopping at Costco when you're hungry. Did you know they sell chocolate pomegranate ice cream bars and Pirouline cookies in bulk? If someone else will stock up on the powdered milk, oats, and red wheat- I've got dessert covered.

Festive Fun

I have a food hangover. Can that happen? I'm thinking maybe it can. Even Little Miss looks like she's been hittin' the bottle. I ate in excess. There was no moderation in the consumption of garlic pesto I ate yesterday. And then there's the pork tenderloin, corn, baked beans, bacon wrapped onions, (Yes Dad, onions wrapped in bacon. You are jealous, I know.) frog-eye salad, fruit salad, chips, dip, heaven knows how many appetizers, topped off with a chocolate eclair dessert that will make you swoon. We knew it was going to be a rockin' party when guess who met us at the door?


Little Miss cozy-ed (I have no idea how to spell that word) up to Great-Grandma Kay. They were the most festively dressed pair there.


WARNING: This blog contains pictures known to the State of California to cause blindness, visual disturbances, or other irreparable harm.

IN OTHER WORDS: It's been a really long time since parts of us have seen the sun.

God Bless the Soldiers and Missionaries Everywhere

When I hear "I'm Proud to Be an American" I can't help but get goose-bumpy. Today I'll be hanging out at the pool at a barbecue with family, friends, and lots of good food, but lest I get caught up in my world and forget...God Bless the Soldiers and Missionaries Everywhere. No matter where you stand politically (or religiously for that matter) you have to give props to someone who would devote their life and be willing to sacrifice it for what they believe to be true and right. It's a lot more than a lot of us can say. Recognizing their service serves as a good reminder to check ourselves and evaluate if we are living what we claim to believe- no matter what that might be.

Happy Fourth of July! And to all that have, will, and are currently serving- thanks to you from me.

Rodeo Queen

Little Miss is no third wheel, but she does come on most of our dates.

She's a pretty fun date.

Rodeo Queen loves her Papa.

Red, White, and Blue (Literally.)

Coolest shot of the night.

It'd take a firework blast to wake this kid up. Um, no. She slept right through.

C'est mon anniversaire!

As the language of love and romance it's only fitting that I tell you it's my anniversary in French! Cinc ans. Five years. That's half a decade. We have both come a long way in these few years both individually and as a couple. We've put each other through school, moved eight times, got 'grown up' jobs, and are now raising our little girl. It's been a good ride and if I had to do it over again- I totally would! Now comes the part where I give you all this marital advice and my tips to a happy, successful marriage (which I feel we've got). But I really only have one little tidbit to share. Here goes. Get a pen. You're gonna want to write this down.

Marry a man who worships the ground you walk on.

That pretty much sums it up. Oh, and act like a wife who deserves to be worshiped. Easier said than done, but marrying the right person at the right time is the number one. If you're married to the wrong person you're pretty much up a creek. And I'm not saying that I believe in "The One" or you can't make a marriage work, it's just harder that way.

Now we're to the part where I tell you why my husband is the perfect spouse and all the reasons I love him. Well, I already mentioned it. Are you not reading closely? He worships the ground I walk on. What's not to love about that? But seriously, my husband is the perfect spouse because he WANTS to be a good spouse, not because he himself is perfect. He is also patient, kind, honest to the point of embarrassing his wife at times (like during Red Cross questionnaires, and no I will not be telling you the story), wicked smart, handsome, hard-working, did I already mention patient, sweet, affectionate, and an awesome Papa. I do have to also mention the fact that he doesn't say a word about my yarn, always compliments me even when I look like death wormed over, and he reads my blog and still finds me sexy.

The last two years have been somewhat emotionally charged and trying, especially for me, but he never- not for a fraction of a millisecond- made me feel like less of a woman or wife because my woman parts wouldn't work. As a woman (especially of the LDS faith) broken woman parts can shake you up, and he has been my strength and comfort through it all. I don't know if I would say I'm grateful for our trials, but I can say that I'm grateful to have had John with me through it all. At a point when we thought that it could possibly be just the two of us for the rest of our lives, we would have been okay. We like each other that much. I am thankful however for the solid foundation I feel like we've established before we invited little ones into the mix. A solid, loving marriage will be one of the greatest gifts we can give to Little Miss.

So, it is only natural that I would think that we are the coolest couple ever! I am the coolest wife ever because for our anniversary I have agreed to go on a 31-mile backpacking trip in Yosemite in September- something I have been promising we'd do. And he is the coolest husband ever because he is taking me to the rodeo. Oh, yes. The rodeo. Complete with Mutton Bustin' and everything. See because for me, my husband would take me to the rodeo, even when I know he'd rather go try on backpacks at REI.

I love you, babe!

No Surprise There

When I was twelve I babysat for a little boy named Dustyn. I watched him from the time he was born until we moved to California (I think he was two.) As he learned to talk he thought every Disney princess that didn't have blonde hair was "Net." When he watched Pocahontas he'd sit in front of the t.v. yelling "Net!" "Net" "Net!" I never got to be Sleeping Beauty.

You Are Pocahantas!

Free-spirited and wise. You have a strong passionate spirit that touches and changes all who know you. The wisdom and common sense that you have is really what guides you through life. Even so, you also have a very playful side that loves adventure and excitement.

Which Disney Princess Are You?

Thanks Nat!