My Children

"Every night, I prayed for you, my special child. I prayed that your bones would be straight and your heart would be strong. But most of all, I prayed that someday you would love God."

-God Gave Us You

Book Review

American on Purpose by Craig Ferguson

Synopsis: The auto-biography / memoir (what's the difference anyway?) of Criag Ferguson, host of The Late Late Show. He starts by talking about his parents' lives in Glasgow at the end of World War II, and takes us all the way through his own birth, schooling, and career as a Scotsman. Intertwined through each fantastically depicted memory, he ruefully describes the way alcoholism affected his life.

Readability: Not hard to read at all. Very enjoyable, in fact. Be warned: this book contains colorful language and grown-up content relating to drugs, alcohol and sex. It was not gratuitous, though, and not necessarily written to shock, which I appreciate. It reads like a journal entry, though it is very intro-spective, well-thought-out, hilariously funny and at times very emotional. In short, I laughed, I cried, I empathized. The only down side is that there are a lot, A LOT of names to keep track of. Other than that, no complaints.

Predictability: Well, I knew going into it that Ferguson currently hosts a late night television show, so I wouldn't exactly call it a shocker. I learned a lot about Ferguson's life as a Scot, and why he became an American (which, incidentally, I did not see coming--I don't want to spoil anything for anyone, so if you want to know his reasons, shoot me an email.).

Couldn't Put it Down Factor: I really couldn't put it down. I thoroughly enjoyed it from word one. I don't know what I expected, but it is very well-written.

Recommend it?: I DO recommend it! It's like talking with a friend. Like I said, though, Ferguson is a true Scotsman and as such enjoys using the f-word and enjoyed (past-tense) whiskey and women.

Four out of five stars. Really loved it. Really, really.

(I just re-read this post. Could I gush any more??)

Merry Christmas!

Snow, snow, snow.

It's all I can think about.
We're now in a Winter Storm Warning.
This storm has the potential to wreak havoc on our Christmas. I'm sure I'm not alone here.

!!!!*&^$@#%!!!!

Silent Monks A-Singing

Santa

I don't think we're probably going to "Do Santa" at our house (though I'm not too stressed about it), but I have to say, the temptation to take Shirley to have her picture made with Santa at the mall is almost overwhelming, just because I'm pretty sure it will go SO BADLY.
You KNOW what I'm saying:

Now and Then

10 years ago

1.) How old were you? 17.
2.) Where did you go to school? Austin High School, Decatur, Alabama.
3.) Where did you work? Ha. At the carousel at the mall.
4.) Where did you live? On Ramona Drive in Decatur, AL.
5.) Where did you hang out? We had people over at our house a LOT. We also hung out at Books-A-Million. That's really all I remember.
6.) Did you wear glasses? Yes. Sigh.
7.) Who was your best friend(s)? Lauren. Ten years ago is when Lauren became my best friend.
8.) How many tattoos did you have? None. I was 17.
9.) How many piercings did you have? Ears.
10.) What car did you drive? A 1983 Volvo 240, four-speed. Her name was Daphne. She had no radio so we sang. We sang a lot.
11.) Had you been to a real party? Haha, no.
12.) Had your heart broken? I thought I had. Boy was I wrong.
13.) Single/Taken/Married/Divorced/Bitter: Single-ish.


5 years ago


1.) How old were you? 23
2.) Where did you go to school? University of Wisconsin-Eau Claire
3.) Where did you work? Five years ago today, I don't believe I had a job.
4.)Where did you live? Eau Claire, Wisconsin.
5.) Where did you hang out? Baldwin, Wisconsin. My fiance lived there. :)
6.) Did you wear glasses? Yes. I will forever wear glasses.
7.) Who was your best friend(s)? Jenna and Bia.
8.) Who was your crush? Richard.
9.) How many tattoos did you have? One.
10.) How many piercings did you have? Both ears and I think belly button. I was WILD!
11.) What car did you drive? Whatever Richard happened to own that week.
12.) Had you had your heart broken? Yessssssiree. Badly.
13.) Single/Taken/Married/Divorced/Bitter: About to be married.


December 2009


1.) How old are you? 2-ahem-8.
2.) Where do you work? I am in human relations and nutrition. I moonlight as a maid.
3.) Where do you live? Minnesota.
4.) Where do you hang out? The couch.
5.) Who is your best friend? I have a lot of best friends.
6.) Do you talk to your old friends? Many of them. There are a few who are missing, still, but I have not lost faith in Facebook. When you go to two high schools, it's easy to lose people. This is one of the greatest sadnesses in my life. Truly.
7.) How many piercings do you have? Two.
8.) How many tattoos? One.
9.) What kind of car do you have? I choose not to answer this. I still have some friends who think I'm cool.
10.) Has your heart been broken? It has. But it was only really applicable for the 5-year set of questions.
11.) Single/Taken/Married/Divorced/Bitter? Forever married.


Your turn (if you want)!
Naomi
Kristi
Lauren
Carla
Jessie
If anybody else wants to do it leave a comment so we are sure to come read yours!

75 Feet

If you've ever wondered how long your kitchen is, just lose control of the Reynolds Wrap.
As it turns out, my kitchen is NOT 75 feet long and as such I only had to re-roll about 20 feet of aluminum foil. Color me thankful.

Ode to a Toddler

My pre-two year old can not come play,

she has not got her way.

There are not enough cookies

what happened to all the nookies?

A hurricane in my house

she is never quiet as a mouse.

Publicly humiliating mama

who needs TV drama?

If I say no more Nemo

she gets all sad and emo.

Shirley Jean will see you at kindergarten

and not a moment before then.

Sainthood?

Gives new meaning to "Saint Nick."

Icky Christmas

Today I stopped at The Home Depot to pick up some air flow directors for the air vents in our FREEZING house. Basically, they're a little bandshell for your heat vent, that, incidentally have already made a big difference.
Anyway, on my way in the door, I stopped to smell some candles. As I was sniffing, a very normal-looking man cornered me against the display with his cart. He picked up a candle, sniffed it, and said, "You smell good."
My first inclination was to think that I must have misunderstood him, but when he kept staring at me with a dumb grin on his face not unlike THIS:













I knew I had not, afterall, misunderstood.
Without another word, I squeeeeeezed out of the tight spot he had me in (literally and figuratively), and made my purchases.
Icky. Icky Christmas. Not Merry.




For what it's worth, I'm still seeing spots from taking this picture.

Equations for Keeping House

Vaccuum Cleaner + Space Heater = Blown Fuse.*
Baby Hangers + Paper Bags = Barrell of Monkeys

*The bedroom clock (even though I have not reset it since I blew the fuse two days ago) is currently closer to real time than it was before the vaccuuming incident. Why bother resetting it? I can't see it from the bed anyway and Richard doesn't use it. Whatever.

Stuff that doesn't last forever that while you're in it seem endless:

-Broken hearts
-Puberty
-Trials
-Winter

"Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding;
in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight." Proverbs 3:5-6

Book Review

The Lost Symbol by Dan Brown
Synopsis: Robert Langdon once again finds himself in the middle of a Symbologist's scavenger hunt where time is of the essence. This time, in our nation's capital.

Readability: Easy--very wordy, though. I found myself skipping entire paragraphs.
Predictability: I was surprised on this one--I didn't really know how it would all turn out. There were a couple twists and turns I didn't see coming, and a handful that I did.
Couldn't Put it Down Factor: As usual, Dan Brown delivered a real page-turner. Toward the end, it lost me, though. Once the mystery was solved, there were three or four more chapters to wrap up all kinds of loose ends. It was hard to stay awake for the finish.

Recommend it?: Well...that depends. In Dan Brown's other books, he has a lot to say mostly about the Catholic church. I feel like he works really hard doing his research so that nothing he says is absolutely WRONG, so it's hard to put your finger on it. Well...in The Lost Symbol, Brown has a lot to say about Christianity and religion as a whole. He's right on the money about a lot of things, but then he starts talking about how "God is in all of us," and that if we can each just elevate ourselves to one-ness, blah, blah, blah. He's missing the crucial point: As Christians, we have a savior. Remember? He missed it completely. Anyway, would I recommend this book? Sure...if you aren't offended by that sort of thing.

p.s. I felt like this was the most poorly-written book by Dan Brown yet. He repeats FULL SENTENCES from one page to another. What kind of editor did he have? Do they really think I'm so stupid that I can't follow the story? Really?

Two out of Five stars. I am disappointed.

Christmas Cutthroat

Christmas lights get ONE chance this year.
If they don't light up on the first try, they go straight in the trash.

Ruthless? Maybe.

I'm not messing around here. I learned my lesson last year.

Merry Christmas.

Any way the wind blows...

From our house to yours...

Happy Thanksgiving!

I just woke up from my turkey stupor, and am finally able to blog...

My mom made all the chefs and sous chefs matching aprons for the big day. Don't we look great??

Shortage

We've been on a closet-cleaning kick at our house lately.
By virtue of the fact that Richard is a man, three things are true about his wardrobe:
1. It is MUCH smaller than Shirley's or mine.
2. His clothes get dirtier, faster than Shirley's or mine.
3. His laundry turnover is faster and more important than Shirley's or mine because of #1 and #2.

It seems as if there is always a shortage of clean clothes for Richard to wear to work. To be fair, his requirements are not much--he only needs a pair of "nice" jeans and a shirt bearing the name of his company. By my last count, he had three shirts that work for work.
As you can imagine, this sometimes adds stress to our Sunday nights, trying to locate a clean shirt for Richard.
So...imagine my surprise and happiness when he found FOUR of them stuffed at the back of his closet this morning!
Just four more reasons to put off doing laundry!

Would you like fries with that?

I've been craving coffee lately, in a big way. It tastes so good to me that I will even drink decaf, which until previously, I didn't see the point in, but that is neither here nor there.
Since I usually have the Shirl in the car with me when I want coffee, I've been utilizing the drive through window more frequently than ever. I love it when I get a drive thru guy with a sense of humor...

At Caribou
Erin: I'd like a small, decaf white chocolate raspberry mocha, please.
Barista: Ok, so that's a small raspberry latte?
E: No, a small, decaf white chocolate raspberry mocha.
Barista: Oh, sorry. A small white chocolate mocha.
E: No, a small, decaf white chocolate raspberry mocha.
Barista: Ok. A small white chocolate raspberry mocha.
E: Decaf!
Barista: A smal, decaf white chocolate raspberry mocha?
E: I know how to party.
Barista: Yeah you do.

At Mcdonald's
Erin: Ooh! Can I try one of these new caramel frappes? Small?
Order Taker: A small frappuccino coming up.
[At the wondow]
OT: Here's your frappuccino.
E: Are you supposed to be calling them that?
OT: Fine, here's your FRAP-PAY.

Snob with a capitol SNOB.

Tonight I had the SUPERFUN (!!!) pleasure of going to see a midnight screening of New Moon with Masha. Remember ol' Masha?
The theater we were at sold out fourteen theaters! FOURTEEN THEATERS!
So, as you can imagine, things were a little crazy, and the girl in front of us was using her very beautiful purse to save a seat for a friend.
Out of my love for all things with handles, I tapped her on the shoulder and said, "You'd better guard your bag--I'd hate to see it get stolen!"
She replied, "Oh, NO one is touching my bag. This is a $500 purse. If anybody touches it, they're leaving. the. theater."
"Oh, right," I said.

Quietly, to Masha I said, "That's not a $500 bag."
She said, "I know, right??"
I said, "What do I look like? Some kind of schmuck?"
Masha said, "It's not even from this season."

Child #1 and Child #2

Richard and I are making practically zero headway in the Naming Baby #2 Department. Richard tends to be a more traditional, where I tend to like more unusual names, so we're having a very hard time agreeing on almost anything this time around.
Since time has flown by, and I expect the second half of my pregnancy to FLY by as well, I'm starting to feel the pressure, so I decided to take my concerns to Rich last night.
I started by saying, "Rich, we have to start getting serious about picking some names for the new baby. I don't want to give it a run of the mill, average name, because our kids are special. We both liked the name Shirley because it's so unusual, interesting and a little old-fashioned--"
"Yeah, but don't you think it would be confusing if they're both named Shirley?"


I guess I walked right into that one.

Can I just say?

If you want to pierce your eyebrow, it's your business. I really don't have a problem with it. In fact, on some people, many people, it can be very cute (read: Hannah N.).
BUT.
If, Nordic guy, you're going to pierce your eyebrow, maybe--and this is just a recommendation--you could take the time to tweeze? Just a little? And most importantly, more important than anything, in fact, DON'T choose the green earring / hardware. Next to your bushy blond eyebrow, it just looks infected and makes me very uneasy to drink the coffee or eat the meal you've just made for me.
I'm just saying.

Crisis Averted

Rich and I were faux-arguing tonight about who would go pick up dinner (today has truly been a day off), when I said, "Do I really look like I'm fit to go out in public?"
Richard, in his sweatpants and t-shirt said, "I'm not dressed any different than you! You should go."
I said, "No way, man. I'm not going anywhere."
He said, "Are you wearing a bra?"
I said, "Yes..."
Rich said, "See? You're more dressed than me. You should go."
I said, "Do you usually wear a bra when you go out for the day?"
Rich said, "Well...no."

Thank goodness, I say.

How do you know when you're really a grown up?

I know I've blogged about this before, but I just had to share a conversation I had with my cousin (who is the same age as me) this afternoon about what we are going to ask for for Christmas.

Erin: I dunno. Everything I want is really expensive, so I might just pool my Christmas money and buy one of them.
Nick: I asked for socks.
E: Oh, I always ask for socks, too. And pajamas.
N: I also asked for The Best of Genesis.
E: We're old.
N: Yeah...

Quilt Retreat: A,B,C; 1,2,3; Baby, you and me.

You know that feeling you get when you slowly realize you're into a project that's WAY over your head? That's how I started to feel around letter G.

It took me all weekend, but I managed to finish all the letters of the paper-pieced alphabet for the new quilt I'm working on.

And this is a picture of the baby quilt I started for Shirley Jean about two years ago when I was pregnant with her. Thanks, Kristi, for helping with the binding!

This ABC Quilt is brought to you by the number four.

Tailgators (Get it? Like Aligators?)

I am that jerk who pulls over to the side of the road to let you pass if you're following me too close.
I'm not sure why that makes *me* the jerk, though.

Spam

I just got an email whose subject line read: Do You Love Low-Priced Company?
What, interweb, could that mean???
Maybe I should have opened it.
Typically, if it's in my spam account and says something like, "Cheep Car for U," or "Erin D., US Cittzan," and it's from someone like Lunda Juhnson, I just delete. You know?

Shopping

Why shouldn't I be using anti-aging products on my "young" skin right now? I want my skin to stay young.
Follow my logic?
CoverGirl, you are a clever machine.

If Only

If only my washer and dryer were upstairs.
I would do laundry all. the. dog. gone. time.
I would be the laundry queen.
I would be the laundry master.
I would be the laundry monster.
If only I had an elevator to the basement.
If only the dishes were enchanted and loaded themselves into the dishwasher.
If only my floor was self-vaccuuming.
Then I would be really happy.

Hini Weenie

Today I was talking with a friend and she said, "You know, this flu thing is completely out of the blue. I wish they had said something on the news!"
Which leads me to my post for today:
I've turned into a bit of a germo-phobe in the last couple of weeks.
I DON'T WANT TO CATCH THE FLU!!!
And, apparently if I go to HudWis or River Falls, I will catch the flu. No offense, guys, but it seems like everyone on that side of the river is sick!
When I tell people this, they say, "Oh, yeah...you don't want to risk it with the pregnancy."
Yeah, yeah...that's it.
Actually, it's a completely selfish act of self-preservation: after the first 16 weeks of my pregnancy I learned that caring for a toddler when you feel like you-know-what (and I'm not talking about Lord Voldemort) is the worst.
So, we'll come back to HudWis when I stop seeing FB status updates that say things like, "Sooooo sick." "Got dressed today." and "Lord, just take me now."

p.s. WASH YOUR HANDS!

Mantiqueing.

Once a week (or so), Richard and Nick go "man-tique-ing." They describe it as, "What girls do when they go to antique shops...but insteat of antique shops, we go to pawn shops."

Makes sense to me.

They've only had to refuse to buy heroine once and as far as I know neither of them has purchased an engagement ring or a gun.

Are we at a different altitude?

Apparently baking cookies in Wausau requires actual measuring as opposed to my patented "Willy Nilly Bake Method" that has been so successful at home.
For the record, I'd like to point out that every. single. cookie. disappeared off this tray after I took the picture.

She finally caved.

For the Love Lauren.

Manly Men

Richard and my dad left on Tuesday morning to go to Glenrock, Wyoming on an antelope hunting trip. They are tent camping and doing stuff that manly men do in the woods for almost two weeks!
I just checked the weather forecast for that area of the country...it's gonna be cold.
This is what's on my mind today.
I'm praying that they have a wonderful time and that they are safe and manage to stay warm.
In the mean time, Shirley and I are "camping out" in Wausau. If you're in the area, give a call. :)

*Update*
I just got the following text messages from Richard:
Crazy day. We got permission to hunt on land owned by the brother of a lady named Shirley [last name]. And... your dad had a disaster blind date with her in 1978.

WHuuuT?!? Hahahahaha!

I've no one to blame but myself.

So...after spending an hour and a half on the Sallie Mae website last night and a solid hour on the phone with Sallie Mae this morning, imagine my embarrassment and exasperation when I realized I no longer owe Sallie Mae any money.
If you're interested, the phone number for Federal Direct Loan Servicing is 1-800-557-7392. They were happy to talk about the money I still owe them.

Free to be Me.

Richard: This is funny. You can get a Hummer for like $13,000.
Erin: We should get one. I've been wanting something with more guts.
Richard: I don't think it would be a smart purchase.
Erin: You never just let me be myself.

HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE?!?

Some of us have used Vicks VapoRub for years for everything from chapped lips to sore toes and many body parts in between. But I've never heard of this. And don't laugh, it works 100% of the time, although the scientists who discovered it aren't sure why. To stop night time coughing in a child (or adult as we found out personally), put Vicks VapoRub generously on the soles of your feet, cover with socks, and the heavy, deep coughing will stop in about 5 minutes and stay stopped for many, many hours of relief. Works 100% of the time and is more effective in children than even very strong prescription cough medicines. In addition it is extremely soothing and comforting and they will sleep soundly.

I'm here to tell you, it works.
My mom sent me this information in an email this morning, since life at our house has come to a complete standstill due to Shirley's nasty cold.
I am pleased to say that I applied VapoRub to SJ's feet at 1:43 this afternoon for her nap (I was very scientific about it and wanted to be as accurate as possible, so I checked the clock carefully!), and she has been sleeping soundly ever since, which, after our night last night, is a welcome respite.
Does anybody know how or why it works?

A Birthday Every Day

How is it possible that out of 515 friends on Facebook, some days (like today) three or even four of my friends have birthdays and other days, none of my friends have birthdays?
I have wondered this frequently over the last couple of years.
I think, when I reach the point that I have enough friends that one of them has a birthday every day of the year, it's time to be done on the ol' social network.
Thoughts?

Clues that you have reached adulthood:

-You run out of things like bread and milk instead of throwing them away because they've gone bad.
-Many of your friends on facebook have pictures of their children as profile pictures instead of themselves.
-You have a picture of your child/ren as your profile picture instead of yourself.
-You need to visit the chiropractor after going bowling.

Just some thoughts for this Sunday afternoon.

Iron Chef Roseville

Last night, after reading an FB post that a friend had been eating a lot of spaghetti, I HAD. TO. HAVE. spaghetti.
Of course, we didn't have any sauce...so I made my own.
In the time it took for the water to boil and the pasta to cook, I created a masterpiece:
-One can diced tomatoes
-Lots of salt
-Lots of garlic salt
-A tiny bit of minced garlic
-A dash of basil
-A very large amount of oregano (who took the oregano shaker top, by the way?)
-Some onion powder
-Lots of cayenne pepper
-A dash of black pepper
-A splash of olive oil
Simmer and stir while pasta cooks.
DELICIOUS! FANTASTIC! WONDERFUL!
I rule.

Try Again

Richard: Woah. If you dial 1-800-Geek-Squad you get a lady saying dirty stuff.
Erin: Are you sure you dialed the right number?
Richard: Pretty sure.

If Only

If Aldi did photo printing and sold The Real Thing, it would darn near be the perfect store.
Oh, and a Redbox.

Clean House

I used to have house-cleaning routine that I was very happy with.
Then I got pregnant.
Now that I'm starting to feel more like a human and less like a home for an alien-life-form that preys on its victims from the inside out, I can not for the life of me remember what that routine was.

"I will help where help is needed."

At the marriage retreat this weekend, Rich and I dealt with some spiritual warfare in the form of dreams, etc. This is not at all surprising when you think about it--if we go out to "the woods" to focus on our marriage, it's not going to make Satan happy. Right? Right.
Anyway, in the middle of the night, I poked Richard and said, "Can you pray with me?" He, of course, obliged and I went to sleep quickly feeling better.
This morning I said, "Thanks for praying with me last night. It helped a lot."
Rich said, "I prayed with you?"
At least he was willing to help in the moment.

Less is More

Did I feel silly taking this photo at the library this afternoon?

A little.

For Keeps

This weekend, I was reviewing with Richard the weekends coming up in September. All of them are busy.
I said, "I've got a baby shower on the 26th, and I'm pretty sure I'll be in major trouble if I don't take Shirley Jean."
He said, "Oh, so that means you're probably not going to Opening Day with me?"
I said, "No...I didn't realize they were the same day. Is that ok?"
He said, "Yeah, that works out fine. Brian called Opening Day anyway. You can't really mess with it when it's been 'called.'"
I said, "No, that's like, in the Bible."

What difference does it really make?

I drove to Eau Claire last night to have dinner with my parents (because going to the Minnesota State Fair wasn't enough activity for me in one day). While we were at the table, Shirley filled her diaper, which I noticed approximately 60 seconds before my parents.
My mom said, "Erin...do you have really bad gas?"
I said, "Yes."
She said, "Did you just...?"
I said, "NO! It's Shirley's diaper! Jeez!"

Nowhere Fast

When Richard says he's going to detail the car, he's not kidding around.

Dear Wisconsonites,

I can NOT believe how emotional I got reading your posts about the first day of school today. (Maybe it's the hormones, but that's not the point.)
I am praying for your children as they start a new year.
Sincerely yours,
Present Erin

Topsy Turvy - Month 3

As you can see, the tomato plant has grown and grown. However, it hasn't been hot enough for many of my grape tomatoes to ripen!

I just hope we can pick these before it snows...

Today's harvest.

Book Review

Julie & Julia : My Year of Cooking Dangerously by Julie Powell

Synopsis: Forty years after it is written, Julie (our foul-mouthed heroine) decides to cook her way through Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking and then blog about it.

Readability: Easy peasy.

Predictability: Oh, well. You know.

Couldn't Put it Down Factor: I flew through the first half of the book, but then I admit, I grew tired of the whining of the narrator and the detailed descriptions of the food were...nauseating. But maybe that's just me.
Recommend it?: Oh, sure. It was a cute read. Let it be known: I LOVED the movie. LOVED it. Loved it WAY more than the book. I never thought I would say that in my entire life. Ever. The truth is, they changed the movie enough to make me fall in love with the foul-mouthed heroine and thoroughly enjoy the added storyline about Julia Child. Honestly, the book was missing more about the REAL Mrs. Child.

Three out of Five stars. Eh.

The reason I am careful not to ride in people's blind spots is because they can't see me.
Take heed.

Insert Foot in Mouth

Do you think extroverts have to make more apologies than introverts?
Someone should do a study on that.

Oregon Trail

Richard is on a long road trip this week for work.
This morning I got a text that said, "I'm coming up on the Missouri River. What do I do? Ford the River? Caulk seams and float? Or pay for a ferry?"
Then later, "You got a snake bite."
Figures.

Luscious Locks

Recently my friend was admiring Shirley's hair.

"I would just kill for this hair," she said. "What happens between here," she said pointing at Shirley, "and HERE??" Holding up a strand of her own hair.

"Men," I said.

When in Rome...

Is it just me, or has the exhaustion level increased at VBS this year, in comparison to last year?
I only have a few rules for my group:
The Cave is after the Marketplace.
We aren't doing science this year.
You are not allowed to touch each other.
Your sash is not a weapon.
You cannot wear your sash on your head.
Your sash is not a sling.
We aren't doing science this year.
You are not allowed to touch each other.
Try to go potty even if you don't have to.
Wash your hands with soap.
The Cave is next.
We aren't doing science this year.
Talk to me like a big boy.
You are not allowed to touch each other.
You don't have to sing, but you may not distract others from worshipping.
Please stay on our blanket.
Do not pinch each other.
Do not hit each other.
Do not pull each other's hair.
You are not allowed to touch each other.
It's time to go to the Cave!

I don't think I'm too demanding.

Check it out.

Finally, something to blog about!

Bow to Your Partner

We went to the drive-in last night with the Borggren's, and had a wonderful time. Richard was thrilled to be able to camp out in the bed of his truck, which was very fun indeed.
When it was finally time to pack up and go home, I realized just how stiff I was from laying in the hard truck.
I climbed down and went between the cars to stretch out. I bent at the waist to stretch out my lower back, which is when my forehead squarely met the radio pole between the cars.
Richard said, "What are you doing??"
As if I did it on purpose.

Topsy Turvy - Week 5

Won't it stink if I do this whole photo-journal of my Topsy Turvy and we only get one tiny, rock solid tomato? Because so far, that's what we have.

Question

If you hit a parked VW Bug, would you leave a note that said,
"Slug bug. No backsies!"?
Just wondering.

Keep up.

"That's what she said," loses most of its hilarity when you have to explain the joke.

Dear New Sofa Bed,

Thanks for that.
Sincerely yours,
Erin
p.s. I think I broke my femur.

It's always the last place you look.

Or at least it shows up once you stop looking...under a sock.

New Living Room

God used our neighbor yesterday to remind me that he loves me. She called to tell us she was "getting rid of some stuff," and did we want to come check it out?
Yes. The answer is always yes.
Waiting for us was an almost-new pull out couch.
Our current couch was truly on its last legs, and, to be honest, wasn't very...fresh.
I am very touched by her generosity.
Now I've just got to figure out how to make the couch and the chair look less insane next to one another.
Methinks more new curtians are in order...

An Exerpt from The Conflict Resolution Handbook

"I feel like everything that happened this morning was your fault," is great example of what not to say to your spouse in a reconciliation attempt.

Dear Uncle Ben's Instant Rice Pudding with Cinnamon and Raisins,

I wrote you a song.
Have a listen:

Uncle Ben's Instant Rice Pudding, ma belle.
Sont des mots qui vont trés bien ensemble,
Trés bien ensemble.

I love you, I love you, I love you.
That's all I want to say.
Until I find a way
I will say the only words I know that
You'll understand.

Uncle Ben's Instant Rice Pudding, ma belle.
Sont des mots qui vont trés bien ensemble,
Trés bien ensemble.

I need to, I need to, I need to.
I need to make you see,
Oh, what you mean to me.
Until I do I'm hoping you will
Know what I mean.
I love you...

I want you, I want you, I want you.
I think you know by now
I'll get to you somehow.
Until I do I'm telling you so
You'll understand.

Uncle Ben's Instant Rice Pudding, ma belle.
Sont des mots qui vont trés bien ensemble,
Trés bien ensemble.

I will say the only words I know that
You'll understand, my Uncle Ben's Instant Rice Pudding.

Give me a call if you want me to sing it to you.
Sincerely yours,
Erin

Book Review

The Club Dumas by Arturo Perez-Reverte
Synopsis: A novel about novel-lovers (Hel-lo! Love at first sentence!). Lucas Corso, a cranky alcoholic Spaniard, is hired to determine the authenticity of an original manuscript of Chapter 46 (or something) of The Three Musketeers by Alexandre Dumas AND the authenticity of a 17th century manual for...er...summoning the devil. As you can imagine lots of excitement ensues.

Readability: Tough. Originally written in Spanish and translated to English, TCD is a challenging read, which was a refreshing change from the murder mysteries I usually blow through. Not so tough, however, that it was unenjoyable. The intricacy of the plot was really impressive. Even now, I can't believe what Perez-Reverte did in 300 short pages.
Predictability: I could NOT figure this one out. You know I love that. To the last SENTENCE, I didn't know where we were going.
Couldn't Put it Down Factor: I didn't have trouble putting down The Club Dumas because it was rather involved to read, but believe me when I say that it was NEVER far from my thoughts. It took me 4 days to finish, and they were four well-enjoyed days.
Recommend it?: Y.E.S. To be honest, if I had known, I probably wouldn't have chosen this one because I'm not huge on Satan...you know...but by the time I realized what was going on, it was too late. The saving grace is that the book and story line have very little if nothing to do with Satan and everything to do with Corso. It is surprisingly un-scary, as Perez-Reverte doesn't go into anything to do with spiritual warfare and keeps the focus on Corso's task at hand. Even so, this one really isn't for the faint of heart, but can be read with the same fictional attitude as one would read Demon: A Memoir or Angels & Demons. I would call The Club Dumas a (wonderful!) mystery/thriller with some religious overtones. Period.
Four and half out of Five stars.

Something to think about:

As a writer--or, more aptly--as someone who knows how to correctly spell some common phrases, watching my child learn to speak is incredibly interesting. Enthralling. Terrifying.
Over the past couple of months, Shirley has begun to mimic our speech patterns and intonations perfectly, until recently, when I discovered that she is actually saying words.
The catch is that they aren't real words. They are words as she perceives them.
When heard from across the room, "nope," is "nope." But upon closer inspection, Shirley is not actually saying the English-spelled-out-word "nope." She's saying "ope," or sometimes, "mope." This is interesting to me because the phonetic "puh" sound involves both lips coming together (there's a real name for it), which she has not done at ALL until now. This is the same reason she has yet to say "Mama" (besides the fact that God thinks it's funny to watch me keep trying to teach her to use BOTH of her lips when phrasing sounds to make words). "What's this?" is actually "HUTSiss," "Yep" is actually, "Gep," and "the rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain," is ... just kidding.

Tomorrow is another day.

Today was just one of those days. One of those days when the voices of protagonists from my past come alive in my head. The kind of day that starts at 2am when Shirley wakes up screaming, holding her cheeks because her molars are coming in all at once. The kind of day that you go back to bed with the baby during her morning nap even though Richard let you sleep in already, and that protagonist, Mennifer Bial, calls you a loser and you believe her. The kind of day that you scald the baby's already tender mouth with Malt-o-Meal that you thought had cooled. Mennifer Bial calls you cruel and stupid. The kind of day that Mennifer Bial assures you that it really is a $7.99 haircut. And she reminds you that there's laundry waiting, dishes lurking and do you really want Richard to come home to find you wearing an undershirt with your hair a mess, glasses askew and by the way, Shirley is covered in Nutrigrain bar? The kind of day that only french fries will do and Mennifer Bial asks you if you want to be a size 12 again.
I'm not the only one, right?
Right?
I can't be the only one who can take an entire day off, maybe two, without doing anything. Without putting on a bra, without going anywhere, without eating anything before 3pm. I can't be the only one who lets the laundry go and the dishes pile up in the sink, hoping my husband won't notice. I can't be the only one visited by voices of protagonists-past. The only one with a complex about the truth.
Right?

Topsy Turvy - Week 2

Here we are after week two. I have watered every day and had to add 8 more quarts of soil. I don't think this cool weather is doing me any favors!

The Cold Press Experiment

It's no secret how much I enjoy my iced coffee. A couple of weeks ago, my mom brought me this cold-press kit to make your own iced coffee concentrate at home! Cool!
Here's how it works:

Pour one pound of coffee into the filter / bucket thingy with enough cold water to fill to the top.

Allow to sit overnight (10-12 hours).

Remove the rubber stopper and drain coffee into the pitcher

when the coffee has had enough time to steep.
Enjoy!
Store the remaining coffee concentrate in the refridgerator for up to two weeks (if it lasts that long!).

Cool, huh? Come on over! I'll fix you one. :)

An Honest Answer

Recently a question was posed for me:
Big hair, big purse, big boobs, big dreams. If you could only choose one, which would it be?
Let me answer you with a little story:

I met a friend (who shall remain nameless...let's call her Masha) for dinner the other night and handed her Shirley Jean over the table, who immediately reached for Masha's enormous Mountain Dew. Masha responsibly went to move the Mountain Dew out of SJ's reach, when everything went very, very wrong.
The Mountain Dew spilled - nay - exploded all over me. It was like a tidal wave of sticky yellowness that hit my body at first fast, then slow. Fast, because the shock of the cold was stunning, and then slow as I realized how much of me was soaked. It was amazing, really. It defied logic. It defied physics. It defied how much Mountain Dew was actually in the cup.
Instantly, both Masha and I cried, "THE PURSE!"
Instead of hopping out of my seat like a sane person, I sat in a pool of Mountain Dew, felt it soaking through to my underwear, felt it roll down my left leg...until I was assured that the purse would bear no stains.

So...to answer your question, I choose big boobs.

Dear Cold Pressed Breakfast Blend Concentrate that I made on my kitchen counter,

Holy crap, dude.
Let me sleep.
I am THIS close to throwing you away.
Sincerely,
Erin
p.s. I wrote this (in my head) last night around 4am. There is just no fun in being up that late if your vampire boyfriend is not there to join you.

Rules of Engagement: Marriage and the Cold Virus

If one spouse is sick:
-No one sleeps.
-There will not be enough Nyquil to go around.
-There is no such thing as germs. (You share everythingeverythingeverything anyway. Why bother avoiding germs anymore?)

If (when) both spouses are sick:
-No one sleeps.
-Nyquil is not an option because the baby needs a parent who is not hungover in the morning.
-All meals (mostly for the child's benefit) will be made in the microwave.

If both spouses and the baby are sick:
-No one sleeps.
-Mommy is no longer sick even though she's still sick.
-All meals (for the whole family) are yogurt or ice cream. Or Goldfish Crackers.

An Urban Experiment - Topsy Turvy

OK, so it's already been established that I have a thing for infomercials.

So...in the hope of all things "too good to be true," I purchased a Topsy Turvy tomato planter. (Actually, it was a gift from Lauren. Tomato, tomahto.)

I am love the idea of growing my own tomatoes without the trouble of tilling a garden.

Here's what we've got after one week of growth:

It may not look like much, but already, the plant has doubled in size and is reaching toward the sun instead of the ground. I'm pretty excited. Updates to follow!

p.s. Miracle Grow for tomatoes makes your begonias go crazy!

Are you fricking kidding me???

Dearest fashion blog,
Are you fricking kidding me???
Haiku is my schtick!

It all depends on your perspective.

Since I couldn't be with my mom during her surgery today, I decided to send flowers.
After I gave the florist all my info, she said, "What do you want the card to say?"
I was not prepared for this.
"Uh...I dunno," I said. "What do you say to someone who's just had their reproductive parts removed?"
She said, "Um...Congratulations?"

Praise!

Thank you for your prayers!
Mom got out of surgery around 11 this morning. (They started late...shocker, right?)
The doctor was able to leave her ovaries in tact, which is a huge praise.
She is "pretty beat up and tired," according to Dad, but doing ok. She will be in the hospital until Wednesday or Thursday.
Thank you, God for making this as straightforward as we had hoped.

Prayer Request

Tomorrow morning (Monday) at 7:30, my mom, Kathleen, will undergo a hysterectomy.
She will be in the hospital for a couple of days, and home from work for 6 weeks.
Please keep her in your prayers. I will post an update when I know how it goes.
Thank you!





*I have her permission to ask for your prayers.

Wish I had thought of this..

Happy Father's Day, to all my favorite fathers.

You know who you are. :)