I’ve Been Published! (Sort Of)

My very first blog book arrived today.  It seems kind of weird to blog about my blog, but I’m very excited!  I printed it using blurb.com, used all my digital scrapbooking stuff to make it fancy and fun, and I think it turned out great!  I was a bit nervous about how it would turn our considering how many hours I’ve put into creating it, but it was definitely worth the time and money.  Now, for the first time since about 2003, my kids have some current pictures to look at in a location other than on the computer.  And I’m excited to begin work on this year’s book.  And I’m extra excited to see how Malia’s baby book looks once it is completed.  And I want to create a book for Matthew since his baby book only has about three things in it.  And eventually I’d like to go back and print books for the other years that I’ve blogged…

Blurb may end up getting a fair amount of money from me.

Prehistoric Fun

Today we visited the Museum of Ancient Life at Thanksgiving Point.  The last time we went was two and a half years ago so Matthew, who is TOTALLY into dinosaurs right now does not remember.  Needless to say, he was extremely excited.  He ran (pretty literally) through the museum exclaiming things like, “That’s a t-rex just like Buddy!”  (For those who don’t know, Buddy is the t-rex on “Dinosaur Train.”)  He was excited to see the pteranadon and I was pretty astonished at how many dinos he could not only identify but also pronounce correctly.  He really enjoyed “digging” for fossils in the big sand room at the end of the museum trip and when I asked him if we should make some “fossils” and get paint brushes to uncover them after we build him sandbox, he was incredibly enthusiastic about it.  In fact, on the way home he asked if we could stop at the store and buy the sand for his sandbox.  Except for the fact that I smashed the heck out of Malia’s hand in the stroller (it was one of those moments when I felt like the worst mom ever), we had a pretty good time.

 (I have no idea what Matthew was doing, but he was definitely not letting us take a nice picture of him.)

 (Malia contemplating her smooshed, bruised, bleeding and bandaged hand.)

Winter Campout

When I was a kid, I loved to make tents.  My siblings and I would drag all the dining room chairs and bar stools into the family room, span the space between them with blankets and quilts from out beds and use the heaviest books we could find (usually encyclopedias) to anchor them in place.  Then we could crawl in and play, read, sleep, watch t.v., etc.  Any activity was more fun in a tent. 

Matthew also seems to be fond of tents.  He has a habit of using his blanket to make a tent out of the baby gym.  He was at it again this morning.  I was finishing breakfast and Malia was playing happily (the baby gym is much more fun now that she can make her hands do what she wants them to do).  She was squealing and talking and generally being delighted with life.  When I finished eating and stood up from the table, I saw this:

Malia is not usually terribly happy when Matthew tents her into the baby gym, but if her squeals were any indication, she thinks it is loads of fun when she has some company.  When they heard the camera, the occupants peeked out to see what was happening.

Then they both ventured back into their tent until it was time to take Matthew to preschool.  As I remember from being a kid, the cheapest entertainment is often the best.

Gung Hay Fat Choy!

For those of you who don’t know, I am half Chinese.  That means that when Chinese New Year rolls around each year, there is a bounty of deliciousness to be had.  My mom goes all out and prepares a lip-smacking, finger-licking feast of Asian proportions…good food and lots of it!  This year she worked around everyone’s food allergies and there was only one dish that Matthew could not sample.  Unfortunately for me, I am on the same diet as Matthew while I am nursing Malia.  The goal, according to the allergist, is to give her immune system a chance to mature before exposing her to foods that she may be genetically predisposed to be allergic to.  So sometimes I see something that looks amazingly tasty, something I love and really want to eat…

(Mmmmm…hot, crispy wontons…drool...)

…and I ask myself, “Why am I doing this?!”  And then I remember…

…and (almost) happily pass over that particular bit of deliciousness.  My mom made it a bunch easier because the wontons were the only bit of dinner that I needed to avoid.

Today Matthew and I made Chinese almond cookies, another tasty treat that he usually can’t have.  But we made the necessary adjustments, Matthew did the red dots (FYI: Did you know that when splattered across the floor, red food coloring looks remarkably like blood?), and unless you were in the know you would never suspect that they were egg, dairy, and nut free.

So for those of you who may not have the blessing of having truckloads of Chinese food on your table this week, order take out and remember that long noodles are for a long life, oranges are for a sweet life, and red is a lucky color.

The First Snowman of the Season…

It is a bit late in coming due to the extreme lack of snow this winter, but Matthew was thrilled that he was finally able to make use of the snowman kit.

Happiness Is...

...having a sister.

Faux Cheesecake Was On the Menu

Yesterday was my birthday.  As seems like the norm lately, Matthew was home sick all day.  But to be honest, it just gave me a really fabulous excuse to sit around in front of the t.v. all day.  We’ve had some expensive purchases in the last few months (a new car, a new camera, and a new ipod) so I wasn’t expecting anything extravagant for my birthday.  However, Kev likes to have something for me to open, so he picked up a little something during a trip to Staples:

For those of you who are aware of my love of red shoes and my office supply fetish, you will understand how awesomely perfect (and perfectly funny!) this gift is!  There is also a wonderful bouquet of flowers gracing my dining table.

So I’m officially thirty-eight years old and to be honest, I don’t feel that old.  When I was a teenager, I scoffed when I heard adults say such things.  Of course, at sixteen 18 is tantalizing, 21 is grown up, 25 is old and 30 is nearly dead.  My perspective has changed somewhat since those years.  Now I find that while parts of my body are beginning to show their age, inside I feel basically the same as I did twenty years ago.  I would certainly hope that I’m wiser, I feel more confident and secure, I’m much more content, maybe even more level headed, but basically I don’t feel all that different.  And now that I’m standing nearly at the gate of 40, I really understand how a person can honestly not feel as old as the years may declare.

In other news, Malia rolled over for the first time yesterday.  I didn’t see it, but Nathan says she looked mightily surprised.  She has been unable to duplicate the rolling so I’m pretty sure it was a mistake, but it won’t be long before it isn’t a mistake which means it is time to start playing bad cop where the Lego is concerned.  I just hope my aging-before-my-very-eyes-body has enough get-up-and-go to keep up with her as she starts to become a mover and shaker.  

Are You Chicken Committed or Pig Committed?

Last week Sunday we were read the letter from the stake president about a special meeting that means ward boundary changes are going to happen.  Knowing that this is going to be a major change, much of what was said in church yesterday was about how to go forward with a good attitude and embrace the changes that are inevitable.  The gospel is, of course, true no matter what ward we are in or how the boundary lines are drawn.  Having change does not change the truthfulness of the message, but it can often be hard to accept the changes, especially when they take us out of our comfort zone or separate us from friends.  Our gospel doctrine teacher, who is a former bishop, put it all into words that I really liked.  He compared the gospel to a ham and eggs breakfast.  Random, I know, but stick with me.  To produce a ham and eggs breakfast, the chicken lays an egg and takes off.  The pig, however, lays down his life for that ham and eggs breakfast.  He then posed a question: are you chicken committed or pig committed?  Do we do our small part for the gospel and then take off when the going gets tough or do we give it our all and lay down our lives for the gospel?  He then reminded us that if we lay down our lives for the gospel, we will be blessed. 

I really like this particular analogy.  I think it can be applied to many different aspects of our lives.  So when the going gets tough, ask yourself, “Am I chicken committed or pig committed?”  And I would surely hope that when it comes right down to it I can proudly say that I am a porker. :-)

As for the results of our major boundary adjustments, the nine wards in our stake were re-organized into twelve wards.  Half our ward plus a street or two is still considered the same ward.  The other half plus a street or two is a brand new ward.  And a small section (our house included) is now part of another existing ward.  We still have the same bishop, but our next door neighbors are no longer in our ward.  Nathan lost a couple of friends to other wards, but gained a few school friends that he is excited about being in the same ward with.  Matthew’s two best little friends from preschool and primary are no longer in our ward, but I’m not really sure he will be affected much.  I’m still friends with their mothers and playing with them necessitates arranging a play date anyway so I really don’t think that he will find it much different.  Kev and I both find ourselves with many friends gone to other wards but a sprinkling of pals still with us.  Poor Daniel is the one who got hit the hardest.  Unlike Nathan, he doesn’t make friends easily and I have written more than once about how grateful I am that he has made a couple of really good friends here.  Unfortunately, his little trio now finds themselves in three different wards.  I cried for him.  And then when Kev and I came home and told him, Daniel cried and I cried some more.

I remember how hard it was being in this situation when a similar change happened before we moved out here.  While I really struggled for awhile over being separated from friends (I was pregnant with Matthew at the time which did not help my emotional stability), the changes presented new opportunities for many people and I ended up meeting many more wonderful gals (several of whom are probably reading this) who will have places in my heart forever.  I hope, for Daniel even more than for myself, that there are friends waiting to be made in this new ward.  And I’ll try all the harder to kick Daniel (who is a bit of a homebody) out the door to go find his buddies.

A Sigh of Relief

I went grocery shopping this morning.  The Walmart has been one big mass of hysteria ever since Thanksgiving.  But this morning it was calm, peaceful even.  The parking lot was nearly empty, there was no cart bashing in the aisles, I didn't even have to wait in line to check out.  I love the holidays just as much as the next person, but it is awfully nice to be able to buy cereal and garbage sacks without having to battle hoards of folks who started their Christmas shopping a week before Christmas.  It's not like the Walmart is ever one of my happy places, but it was a bit nicer this morning.