Happy Halloween!

Jack and Sally. 

These are not their costumes, just what they wore to school this morning. And Porkchop only to school and the store, but not since. Apparently there was a hidden piece of chocolate in the door. He found it. Ate most of it and then fell asleep on the rest of it.

Happy Halloween!

And may all your chocolate stains and Nerdy drool dribbles make it out of your laundry!

She's got spiders in her hair.

October

The anxiety set in when a nurse at the surgery center asked me how old Porkchop was.

"Just shy of seventeen months."

"How much space will there be between him and your next one?"

"Twenty-one months."

And then it kind of donned on me. I have four months. Four months?!?!?! 

We have Halloween. Check.
Then Thanksgiving. 

Then Christmas.

Then Scrunch's Birthday. I have to make it to Scrunch's birthday!

Maybe, just maybe I will get to see David Garrett in concert and Valentine's Day. 

And then I will fall into the black hole of newborn-ness. 

Holy Crap! I only have four months!! 

All of sudden I got itchy and twitchy. 

We've got to get things done! I've got to get things done! 

I sat down with my husband and we talked about what we could realistically accomplish on the house. Starting with tearing out the last of the tomatoes. Yes, we still have tomatoes in October. I hate tomatoes. 

I am (so help me!) going to get my internship credits counted and the two classes I have left finished before this baby's head crowns. So help me! I will no longer be a BYU statistic. A woman who left college before completing her degree to have a family. Before I need a Minivan, I will have the piece of paper that qualifies me for ten dollar an hour jobs that are no-where to come by. You can see why it hasn't exactly been on my radar. But I'm going to do it. So help me! 

I have timelines and to-do lists. Christmas shopping and crafting is carefully plotted. I keep swearing that I am going to sit down and put my feet up. I am going to spend more time knitting while the kids color. And then I hear myself say, "Sure. No problem. I'll take care of it." Then I stay up until midnight watching NCIS with Miqui and John. It is always on and neither of them like House Hunters International. We're tying leaves to the eighty invitations I have just committed to drop off  by 8:00am on my way to work.  

Self-imposed madness. I am a professional.

I smarted off on Facebook that I did not understand people who did not want to live in California. I don't take it back. I can't picture ever regretting saying it. While the rest of the country is carving pumpkins in their turtlenecks, sipping cider, and stockpiling wood for the winter, all things that I love, this year I opted out. There is not a price tag on my sanity. Ask my husband. For a few hours last weekend we had the option of running away to the beach and pretending it was still Summer. I've still got all the time in the world.

Bunkbeds

In my dream I was trying to line up Elvis' eyebrows on two stencils so I could paint them onto a tote for Relief Society. Yup. Not sunning on a beach with the King himself, but stenciling a tote bag? Pathetic excuse for a dream. I woke up when I heard Miqui announce, "Your son is wandering around the house."

I opened my eyes to find Porkchop at the side of my bed grinning. "Hi Guy!" he says.

You can gauge the likelihood of returning to sleep by Porkchop's vocabulary. "Mo milk, mama." means there's a chance I might finish stenciling the remainder of Elvis' features. "Hi Guy!" means we're going to be up for a while.

I would let him climb in bed next to me, but when he cuddles he places his forehead right above my belly and wraps his arms around me like a tree. This morning when I layed down with him for a nap he reached up, grabbed my nose and yelled, "Honk!" Oh, and the baby doesn't respond to anyone like she responds to Porkchop. If everyone and everything is a phase then I am in the "Please, don't anyone touch me!" phase and He is in the "Just hold me!" phase.

Last week I decided that Scrunch and Porkchop will share a room. Since Saturday they have both done really well. As far as I know. His only clue is the stash of multiplying spoons.

These pictures are mostly terrible, but please note that Scrunch picks her own books to proudly display. To the right of 'The Old Woman Who Swallowed a Shell' is her favorite Spanish/English dictionary, and to the left of 'The Puppy Book' you can barely make out her Mandarin one. She can now tell her brother to 'Keep Out!' in three different languages.

Next year I make Halloween costumes in August.

Friday Random

It's the most wonderful time of the year. I've downloaded two audio books. The Dove Keepers and Little Bee, for twenty hours of listening pleasure while I sit at the sewing machine and turn out four costumes. Hint: Cowabunga Dude!!

I would love to get to these this weekend.

In the spirit of full disclosure you should know that I am much better at planning menus than carrying them out. We had Del Taco one night after going to get our eyebrows waxed and Husband and I had Chili's for date night while the kids and Miqui got enchiladas. They were good leftovers though and I fully endorse the shrimp tacos at Chilis.

Scrunch wanted to go in with me while I got my brows waxed. I learned my lesson. Playing 20 Questions with a three year old during a wax job is torture certain government agencies should consider.

Scrunch has been full of all sorts of little comments and conversations lately. I need to write a post about them so I don't forget. As a reminder to myself.. she asked me if the Milkmans moved out of my nipples and told me the GPS lady didn't know what she was talking about. 

Don't buy real pumpkins. Porkchop thinks they should bounce. They don't.

My husband is going to be so excited to find out that I would like the new bunkbeds I got on Amazon put together this weekend. At least he will be if he reads my blog. He should really read my blog before he comes home, just so he's not taken by surprise. I think a Saturday football game is a perfect time to put together bunkbeds, don't you?

I wish my HOA would let me have chickens.

Wearing a muumuu makes me do weird things.

This was my weekend outfit.

I know, I know. It makes you want me more. But I'm very married.

I do mean all weekend. Does that add to my appeal? I can almost put my hair in a pony tail. With about a bazillion bobby pins and if it's just greasy enough. Se-xay!

To complete the picture of utter domesticity, I cooked. Weird I know. And painted the front door. Some of the cooking was done while I painted the door. In my blue muu muu. Cheetah flip flops. And pony tail.

Crockpot pozole with homemade enchilada sauce made with homemade tomato paste. Sausage corn muffins for breakfast, and a tray of cheese enchiladas with more of my enchilada sauce.

The week's menu...

Monday: Kale, Broccoli, and Tofu stir fry served over rice. The kids gobbled this up. They like tree stars and tofu. What can I say? They've been born and raised in Northern California. Bound to eat at least one vegan, gluten free meal at some point.

Tuesday: Cheese enchiladas. I used the remaining enchilada sauce not the creole seasoning.

Wednesday: Tempura pork medallions with tempura veges

Thursday: Spaghetti Night

Friday: Sweet and Sour Meatballs in the Crockpot

Saturday: Bean and cheese tostadas with tomatillo green sauce

Sunday: Peach crepes. I like having breakfast for dinner on the weekends. It feels like less cooking.

Sunday Memories

Remember getting ready to go out at 9pm? Staying out till the next morning? And then being ready to do it again the next night?

That seems like a lifetime ago. I've been ready for bed since 7:15.

Night.

Beat the Doldrums

I am in a bad mood.

I blame Caillou's mother mostly. Because I don't really have any other reason.

I walked into the room in time to hear her say, "Congratulations Caillou! You've found your first fallen leaf. Here, let me put that in your scrapbook."

And I thought, "Well, apparently I suck." I haven't scrapbooked newborn pictures from the hospital and I would tell them to keep the leaves outside. Never in a bajillion trillion years would scrapbooking enter my mind. But then I thought, "No you suck. Your kid is the whiniest, baldest, most annoying five year old on the planet, so what do you know anyway?"

"Scrunch! Do you want to watch Aristocats instead?"

That was three days ago.

It must be something in the air because Miqui has them too. We tried combating them with shopping last night which turned out to be the most pointless excursion ever. If HomeGoods and Target can't deliver what's a girl to do? I came home with a Sprite and nausea. I wish we'd gone for a pedicure instead.

What I really need is a good book. A really good book. Nothing beats the doldrums like a good book.

***

What I've read lately and if/why I liked it.

Tina Fey's BossyPants- I liked it, but mostly I think because I listened to it. I might not have liked it as much had I read it. No one does a Tina Fey rant like Tina Fey herself. Oh, and I thought some of her perspectives on homosexuality and feminism were pretty brilliant.

Sarah's Key- Meh. It had some good parts, but mostly..meh.

The Tailor's Daughter- Good until about two thirds through and then I didn't care about the characters anymore.

Between Husband and Wife- Great book. A must read, but it is non-fiction and not the best for escaping let's say...a bad mood.

Ponies- Eerily true and profound. It'll take you less than ten minutes to read.

Match Me If You Can- Totally trashy read. But I laughed and liked it. Shamefully, I liked it a lot.

Follow the River- Best book of my entire recent reading! Read it in two days. But then again Dances With Wolves has been my favorite movie since I was six.

Currently on my Going to Read list...

Bubba and the Dead Woman
Modoc
One Thousand White Women
The Thirteenth Tale
Little Bee

Any other suggestions? I'd take recommendations for a decent chick flick too.

Perks

Raspberry creme filled chocolate cake with cream cheese frosting as a mid-morning pick me up. Which I didn't have to bake or do the dishes for.

Afternoon naps as needed.

One on one combat help when taking the kids to a buffet.

She only rolls her eyes when I ask her to get the latest Craigslist acquisitions out of the car, but does not drop them.

But maybe most importantly...she taught me short cuts to zippered box cushions and encouraged yards and yards of piping.

Everyone should have a Miqui. And a twenty dollar sofa slipcovered with a paint tarp. Go ahead, spill that chocolate cake, should you be so lucky as to have some. And maybe a couple of newly refinished bentwood rockers, a witch pillow, and some dog pillows because you can't get enough of sewing piping and zippers.

I've been sitting in front of the sewing machine rather than my computer. Should be done soon.

Check-in

I joked on Facebook that the next Disney sequel should be Stitch Goes to Surgery. I could write the screen play. It looks a lot like this...

17 month old boys should be exempt from any sort of surgery. It is hell. Because there's a lot of expensive stuff in those surgery centers, and if they aren't sick they are running at full speed. So you hold him down with one hand, and then completely ditch the idea of the camera. And then comes the Happy Juice.

Tuesday, Porkchop had new tubes put in. It is a minor procedure, but he has to have general anesthesia and be hungry most of the day. It was really no big deal. I even had Husband stay with Scrunch and I just took him down by myself. The worst part of the whole day was the "MEEEE EAT!!!!" tantrum that he threw in pre-op. Oh, Heavens! I thought I had an active girl, and then I had an active boy.

There is a part of me that kind of likes these little check-ins with our team of doctors and nurses. They ooh and ahh over how big he's getting, how well he's doing. And then there's Dr. S. He always tells me what a good mom I am, and pats my arm and asks me if I'm okay. He is a gifted surgeon, and I love him.

On a scale of 0-10 of things that can go wrong with a kid, a cleft lip and palate ranks rather low here in the U.S. But it's kind of nice every once in a while to check in with the folks who know just how hard we've worked and how far we've come. They know we still have the worst surgeries ahead of us, so they keep us happy and are super nice. Because we'll be back.

I got a little bristly with the picture taking chick at Picture Day last week when she asked me if I wanted Porkchop's scars Photoshopped out. Um, no. Honey, we've earned these.

I needed a little bit of fun.

I got the dates on the Calendar mixed up. So glad I took that nap, even if it cost me five grand, so I could still be awake at 2:50 a.m. to realize it. I should have stayed home to finish one of the umpteen projects I'm in the middle of, but I needed to get out. My husband was more than willing to help me out with that one. He didn't want to see what it actually looks like for me to jump out of my skin. Some people glow during pregnancy, my ADD gets worse and I get twitchy.

I twitch, therefore I knit. It is the only cure I've found that works and I haven't been doing enough of it lately so I responded to the call.

1200 Knitters Wanted!

Registration Form for Knitting World Record Attempt

Thank you for your support and commitment for our attempt to break the most knitters

in one place world record! Please complete and return the bottom half of this form to confirm your place in the record attempt.

The record is for the largest group of knitters knitting simultaneously in one place

for 15 minutes. Please bring yarn and two needles (no circular) to knit with.

Please place yarn in a bag. If you stop knitting for any reason you will unfortunately

be disqualified from the record attempt. 

We weren't even close. There's always next year. The kids had an awesome time though. For the love! Someone buy these kids a farm!

Saints be saved! My Conference Report

Once, I told my mother-in-law that if there was no food in Heaven then I didn't want to go.

If everything we do and say is really recorded by the angels, that one might come back to bite me in the butt.

If I was pure in heart I could with good conscience report that I was so looking forward to Conference in order to feast upon the words of the Apostles as a balm to my needy soul. Instead, my slightly irreverent nature forces me to honestly report that I was so looking forward to a good excuse to sit down for a few hours with nothing to do but knit an overdue Yoda hat and play with my Martha Stewart glitter.

If I go to Hell its going to be for licorice, a Star Wars costume, and a little bling on the front porch. Heaven be merciful! If not, I shall be sitting between J. Golden Kimball and my Dad, who always jokes that I can sit next to him in Hell.

Fitting that Sister Dalton's should be my favorite talk. Remember that time you came to pick me up? Yeah. Thanks for that.

We made it!

On the last day of his trip the kids and I left the house at 7:30am with curlers in our hair. I got us to Erick's pre-op appt., picture day, lunch, and a field trip- all on time! I was feeling good. Late that night I got an unexpected phone call from Husband that they had hurried and were on their way home a day early. Sweet hallelujah! We did it. With the help of my sister I managed my two little monkeys and my uterus hog, and he hiked 165 miles in nine days! Bring on #3!

Tonight I hit the wall. 

I fell asleep in the car on the way home from Costco and don't remember a thing since. No worries. John was driving. If I had married a more irresponsible man this might have been a tragic post because by the time I woke up, who knows where or what my kids would be doing. Instead the house was picked up and the kids tucked in their beds. Bless him! 

One teensy, itty-bitty problem... I missed my deadline. Crappity, crap, crap! There is a big friggin' difference between 11:59 EST and 11:59 PST. I slept through both, but still...

I have been working on the kitchen in order to enter in a budget makeover contest. The winner gets $5,000 to their favorite home improvement store. Every time I have attempted to submit my entry this week there has been a problem. My picture files are too large, there are too many words (even though I know there aren't), Porkchop banging on the key board, I got busy and forgot, blah..blah...blah...Every couple of hours I've told my husband, "Do not let me forget to submit my entry." When I woke up with a start and demanded to know what time it was, I was crushed. 12:47 a.m. Oct 1. The contest has closed.

Not that I would have won necessarily, but...it would have been fun. You never know.

I know. 

You feel so bad for me. 

Do you feel $5,000.00 dollars bad?

Anyone?

Anyone?

I think my husband might be good for a new rug or a trip to IKEA. 

I had better pictures, but now I can't find them. It might have something to do with feeling completely hungover, hormonal, and 1:08 a.m. Clearly, this was not meant to be. Keep in mind, it was all done with a little elbow grease, some paint, and some more cheap paint. My elbow will never be the same, and I charge at least five grand to help anyone pain their kitchen or their cabinets. Oh, who am I kidding? I am cheap and easy. I will help anyone for an afternoon of entertaining my kids, a Snicker's bar, and a freezing cold Diet Cherry Dr. Pepper with lots of ice. Forget your checkbook, but do not forget the ice. 

Before

After