Dreaming Big

It's too quiet around here today. The girls were home last week for their Spring Break. We stuck around here and did some fun things (which I may get brave enough to post about later) and had a good time. I miss them today.

Well, except for the fighting and the whining about chores. That I don't miss. It took Sleeping Beauty ten minutes after getting off the bus last Friday to use the argument, "But, why do I have to do that now? It's Spring Break." As if that excused her from doing anything but lying in the sun and drinking lemonade for an entire week. Even I only do that every other day (in my dreams...)

One of us did more than just play, though. Cinderella spent five hours one day with one of her church leaders (who, by the way, is a saint) and learned to sew a skirt. She also made a blanket, but it's a gift, so I won't show it to you. She picked out the fabric for her skirt, cut it out, sewed it up, and then modeled it for all of you. However, I only had ten seconds before church to take the picture, so it's terrible and doesn't do the skirt justice. It's much cuter than it looks in the picture. So cute that I am thinking of starting my own little sweat shop where she sews skirts and I sell them on Etsy for loads of money. I'll be rich. I may get to start lying in the sun and drinking lemonade for real. She might have to quit school to keep up with the demand, but she'll always have her skirt skills to fall back on, right?

Poor King....

...he's losing his eyesight. I know this because he folded laundry and put some of my jeans in Cinderella's pile and several of her shirts in my closet. She is a size zero and I am a size...much bigger than that. Clearly we are nowhere near the same size and certainly he should be able to see that. My conclusion is that he is going blind.

Either that or he is trying to flatter me. Maybe it would work if Cinderella didn't bring me my pants and say, "Mom, these are not mine. They are ginormous. Where did they come from?"

Must make eye appointment immediately.

Good News

Yesterday, my dad had surgery for Thyroid Cancer for the second time in four months. We were worried that the cancer had spread to his vocal chords and trachea, and that he would lose his ability to speak. To say he was not excited and really nervous is sort of the understatement of the year. We all were dreading the day, as well as wishing it were here so we could just get it over with.

The surgery went very well and his voice was spared. I just received word that his doctor declared his condition this morning "a miracle" and he is being released from the hospital. Wahoooo! What a blessing that prayers are answered and miracles do happen. Heavenly Father is in charge and He answers our prayers with blessings unimaginable. Thanks to all of you that knew about Dad and added your prayers to mine. What a great day.

And just when I thought the day couldn't go any better, check out the other good news:

• It's Spring Break, and the girls have been playing nicely and quietly for three hours,so I had a little nap.
  
• My van is finally vacuumed and the garage is swept.
• I have a yummy coffee cake in the oven for lunch. (Again with the food, I know, I can't stop. I thought I'd go ahead and show Snow White what comfort food really is.)
• I actually have an idea for dinner tonight and a tiny bit of energy left to make it. (I know it doesn't seem like it, but this is a BIG deal.)
  
• No one whined about clothes this morning. Except for King, and that was only because he wasn't sure his tie matched his pants. And the girls said it did, so then he was good.
  
• The twins were invited to a friend's house to play for SIX HOURS tomorrow. Yippee!!!

What good news do you have at your house today?

Comfortably Cooking

Apparently all we ever do anymore that is exiting enough to mention on this here blog has to do with food. (I guess I shouldn't be surprised I weigh more than I want to. Hmmm.) Anyway, we had this great conversation on the way home from church Sunday when discussing our meal plan for the day:

King: I think we should just make Ham Fried Rice when we get home.

Me: Yeah, that sounds fine.

Snow White: No! Please, not that! It's not comfort food.

King and Me: What?!

Snow White: That's not comfort food and I need comfort food today. Can't we have something else?

Me: Well, what's comfort food?

Snow White: I don't know. Something cheesy or something. Something I like. Anything. Just not that. I need comfort food today. It's been a rough day.


Okay. So funny. I'm not really sure why she had a rough day. We'd been at church all morning, like always, and she couldn't really put her finger on why she needed the comfort food. She just did. I never refer to anything I make as comfort food so I have no idea where she got this from. My guess is Food Network; I don't think Paula Deen makes anything that isn't comfort food.

We ended up making Sesame Chicken and noodles. That satisfied her need for comfort and no one else really cared what we ate. It's definitely not what I would have called comfort food. Give me the doughnuts and gooey grilled cheese, or something with more fat than my pinky. However, I told Snow White real comfort food is usually carrot sticks and celery. I don't think she believed me, but it was worth a try.

Mean Green

To celebrate our Irish heritage (we don't really have any, but we all are pale enough to look sickly and burn instead of tan, so we count that) on Tuesday, I made Fettucine Alfredo, and colored the sauce green. I served green beans, green pears, and green colored lemon bars. The best part about this meal was that Cinderella mistook the sauce for Pesto sauce, or something, and actually ate the sauce. She HATES Alfredo sauce and refuses to try it every time we have it. This time, she got herself a big helping.

"This is yummy," she said, as she served herself some seconds, "but it's different than the stuff you usually make."

"No, I've made it before."

"Really? I don't remember it."

"It's just Alfredo sauce, colored green," said Snow White.

"What?!" Cinderella said, incredulous, "This is Alfredo? Ewwww."

"But, you like it," I said.

"Well, I wouldn't have eaten it if I knew. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Uh, because you wouldn't have eaten it if you knew. And now you love it. So, there you go." Duh.

"That's just rude," she said.

"I'm sorry you love your dinner. Tomorrow I promise to make you something you hate."

She rolled her eyes, stuck her nose in the air, and ate another serving of the horrid Alfredo. Poor thing. She has such a mean mom.

This is Why I Love That Guy

Actually, this is only one of the many reasons I love King: he keeps me laughing all the time. Below is a copy of the e-mail he sent to his work colleagues about our girls' dance fundraiser. (Only I changed his real name to King. We're not delusional enough to think we are King and Queen of anything but our household. And even that is debatable.) He really doesn't like to do these fundraiser things (neither of us do), but does his fatherly duty to help the girls out. Anyway, it cracked me up when I read it. Especially the last part.

Please disregard if not interested in purchasing sweets for a child dance-class fundraiser—sorry to take your time.

Not to add to your email bombardment, but if you are interested in buying hand-dipped gourmet apples (large granny smith apples dipped in caramel, milk chocolate, white chocolate, and sprinkled with heath bar and pecans and then drizzled with pastel colored chocolate--$10 each), and/or gourmet chocolate bark (a large variety of flavors and sizes—see below) as part of a dance class fundraiser for my ‘lil-uns, then you’ll appreciate this email.

I’ll place the forms/catalogs on the table by the fax machine (or posted above that table), or you can email me if you know what you want. Deadline is March 30th. Just write me a check for the total now or upon delivery (unless you are planning on using your AIG bonus money—give me cash ASAP!).

Thanks for your indulgence.

King

Chocolate Bark:
Chocolate raspberry
Chocolate lemon
Chocolate blueberry
Chocolate caramel latte coffee
Chocolate peanut butter
Cookies & cream Chocolate
Choco latte coffee
Double shot espresso chocolate
2oz bar 92”x4”x.5” = $3
6oz gold back (also include variety packs: fruit, snack, coffee) $11
8oz bar $9
8oz box $12
16oz box $17
14oz gift box $20

Hope

So, many have asked if the two week "stop the headache cycle" worked and how my new maintenance medicine is working. (Thanks for caring, and if you don't, skip this post.) I think it's all in how you define "worked". While I was on the dizzy-headed, blurry-eyed, comatose-inducing two weeks of medicine, I did enjoy less days of horrible headaches. That was good. But, twelve hours after ending this cycle, a headache set in and has never really gone away. I think, maybe, that they have been slightly less severe than the weeks before the two week course, but, also, a great side effect I'm dealing with is not being able to sleep. It's not helping the headaches any, or making me very happy. And, if the girls ever find out what happened in the middle of the night last night, they won't be happy either.

I was up from 1:15 to 4:45 last night. I finally got out of bed around two to read and get a drink. When I went into the kitchen, the dishwasher was open and I thought, "Crap! We didn't run the dishwasher. Ugh! Why am I awake doing dishes at two in the morning?!?! This sucks." "Goodness me! How lucky I got up and saw we forgot to run the dishwasher so I could start it and we could have clean dishes!" and I began loading the few dirty cups and silverware into the dishwasher, in the light from the lamp in the next room. Just as I was about to put the soap in, I realized that the dishes in the dishwasher were already clean. Oops! I took out the dishes that I remembered putting in, but it was two in the morning, and sort of dark. So, don't accept a drink from any cup at my house in the next day or two. None of us are sick right now, so hopefully no one will die if they accidentally drink from a soiled cup. But, just in case someone finds out they drank from their sister's dirty cup, and does go ahead and kill over with the injustice of it all, this here is my confession and plea of insanity.

So, about the medicine I'm on now. I'm experimenting with taking it at different times of day to see if I can find a time that lets me sleep more than four hours a night. If not, it's back to the old drawing board. I think it goes without saying that this is frustrating and painful, and I'm worn out. The good news is now that I'm off of the two week stuff, I do have more energy. Despite being in excruciating pain at times, I have had times when I have been able to do things that haven't been done by me for a while, like mop my floor and do the dishes (even the right way a couple of times.) It is nice to check off some of the little boxes on the list in my head of what I'd like to be able to do during the day. If only I could check off the 'sleep all night' box, I think I'd be a bit more ahead in the game. So, you see, it all depends on how you define "working."

I cannot tell you how many times in the last week that I have been repeating these wise words of President Deiter F. Uchtdorf:

"And to all who suffer—to all who feel discouraged, worried, or lonely—I say with love and deep concern for you, never give in."

"Never surrender.

Never allow despair to overcome your spirit.

Embrace and rely upon the Hope of Israel, for the love of the Son of God pierces all darkness, softens all sorrow, and gladdens every heart."

"Never surrender...never surrender..." has been my mantra these last few days. I can tell you, though, how true President Uchtdorf's words are. The Hope of Israel is there. His atonement is real. I am never alone. I am constantly held up and strengthened by the presence of a loving Heavenly Father who knows me and loves me. The hope of Christ, my hope in Christ, surpasses all worldly understanding and carries me through all circumstances in my life. I love the way President Uchdorf explains it: (Really, the whole talk is excellent, you can find it here: The Infinite Power of Hope)

"No matter how bleak the chapter of our lives may look today, because of the life and sacrifice of Jesus Christ, we may hope and be assured that the ending of the book of our lives will exceed our grandest expectations. "Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love him."²⁶

"This type of hope in God, His goodness, and His power refreshes us with courage during difficult challenges and gives strength to those who feel threatened by enclosing walls of fear, doubt, and despair."

"Hope sustains us through despair. Hope teaches that there is reason to rejoice even when all seems dark around us."

There is always reason to rejoice, dirty cups and all. Even if I have a headache every day for the rest of my life, I will rejoice. Christ lived and died for us. We can know the hope His atonement gives if we turn to Him in all things. The things we plan for and want, and the things that we experience that we didn't know we could do. For as it says in Alma 26: 12: "Yea, I know that I am ^anothing; as to my strength I am weak; therefore I will ^bnot boast of myself, but I will ^cboast of my God, for in his ^dstrength I can do all ^ethings;"

we can do anything if we allow God to be our strength and our hope. I rejoice in that strength and the blessings that I receive through knowing and living the Gospel of Jesus Christ. The blessings are eternal, and the reasons to rejoice are infinite.

Happy St. Patrick's Day

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We practiced all year long to bring you this show. Sleeping Beauty adapted her tap dance for us, and we all had the luck of the Irish with us to pull it off. It was painful for King, as you can see. I don't know why our heads are not on straight, but, really, that's more like us lately, anyway. Our heads not working quite right.

Hard-Knock Life

Cinderella survived the weekend. Just barely. She had two great performances of Annie, where she played a cute, convincing orphan. On Sunday evening, the weeks of practicing, the performing, the staying up late for cast parties, and the stress of pulling it all off looking darling and acting delightful, culminated in a night of surliness and foul behavior. It was all we could do to not send her off to a real orphanage. The good news is she no longer has to worry about which music to listen to or book to read before bed, as her CD player, lamp, and books are now mine. The bad news is since she no longer has a bedroom door, we all get to hear how happy she is without her music and books. It really is a hard-knock life. For us.

Obsession

Yesterday was a big day for me. I drove a car for the first time in two and a half weeks. (I hadn't been able to drive because of my medications.) It turns out it's sort of like riding a bike. It came back to me quickly. It was a strange feeling. I felt big and powerful and super speedy. And I felt like I couldn't breathe, because my bra was suffocating me. It turns out bras still aren't that comfortable.

I went to a Primary Presidency meeting, and managed to sound mostly coherent, for someone who hasn't been out of the house in a week. Then I went to pick up King for our hot lunch date. It was yummy food, and interesting conversation. We then headed off to the super-romantic Wal-Mart. I'm not sure why we end up there on half of our dates. It would be depressing if it weren't so familiar and practical.

But, the best part of the day, the part that I cannot stop thinking about, is our trip to the new bakery up the road from Wal-Mart. Had a super yummy, soft and squishy, chocolate doughnut. It had been months since I had a doughnut. I wasn't even going to get one, but I did. I shouldn't have. I could have lived without it. But now I want more. Every day I could have one. In fact, I would put a bra on just to go get a doughnut. Every single day. I might even drive a car while medicated--it was that good. It's sad the amount of time I have spent today thinking of excuses to buy doughnuts. Here are my best ones:

• It's Friday, the thirteenth.
• It's Cinderella's opening night for Annie.
• It's the last day of the grading period at the girls' schools.
• It's my birthday in almost a month.
• It's almost my 15 and a half year wedding anniversary.
• My head doesn't hurt too bad today.
• I miss my sisters.
• My best friend is in Hawaii (and I'm not.)
• My dad has to have cancer surgery, again.
• My mom ate a chocolate doughnut every day when she was pregnant with me, so it's sort of an inborn trait to want one. It's practically written on my genes.
• I washed my sheets and made my bed. (One of my least favorite chores.)
• It's above freezing today.
  
• I survived helping the twins with their math last night. Fifth grade math. (Hard stuff.)
  
• It's Friday the thirteenth for the second time in a month. That's just weird.

In the end, the "But your bum will be bigger and your legs will be fatter" argument has trumped all rational (and irrational) excuses for running to the bakery. For today. What am I going to do the next 364 days this year? Darn chocolate doughnut!

There is No Point

There's not much to report on around here lately. Life keeps plugging along. I just finished my two week course of medicine to "stop the headache cycle" and am very glad. I don't like the feeling of being drugged so much I'm not myself. I guess I was myself, but not a self I was comfortable with. It's a lot easier to walk down the hall when you don't tip over to one side and run into the wall. Really. It just is. Cinderella calls this the "shopping cart syndrome". You know, when you get that bum cart at the store that just steers off to the right for no reason at all. Yep, that's been me. A bum cart.

Also this week is dress rehearsal for the Middle School play Cinderella is in. She's wearing some of my clothes to be an orphan in Annie. I think maybe this should offend me more than it does.

The King is on Spring Break from the University but he is working hard anyway. We decided to take one day and do something fun while the girls are in school. Only we're too boring (and probably too drugged) to come up with anything creative. Our plan is to go to lunch. Which, frankly, sounds taxing enough for my body, so maybe it's a good thing we're not creative. And I do love me some Thai food.

Yesterday, Snow White came home from school with pen all over her arm. I think this is irritating, but it was even worse this time since she misspelled heart as "hart". King told her that if she didn't wash it off immediately, he would change the "h" to an "f" and force her to wear short sleeves to school. I'm not really sure why she didn't laugh like I did. Instead, she scrubbed her arm until it was pink and swollen. But pen free.

The end.

Hot Stuff

This morning, I woke up with an undeniable urge to go on a diet. And go tanning. Maybe even look into breast augmentation. Certainly, to buy a new wardrobe.

Then, I heard on the news that it is Barbie's 50th anniversary today. That made me feel better. I thought for a minute my poor body image had something to do with the fact that I haven't exercised in weeks, I have rarely been out of bed the past month or so, and I am worn out beyond belief. But, no. It's Barbie's fault.

What a relief. Tomorrow will be a better day.

Unfit

It has recently come to my attention that I am a tyrannical, horrid mother and should be made to pay. Somehow. You see, by forcing one of my daughters to go to ballet class, apparently I have ruined her life. She is exhausted all the time, her muscles are tired, and just worrying about how worn out she will be after ballet has ruined her Standardized Testing scores for this week. It's terrible. Her life is doomed. She'll never get a good grade again, and her muscles are sure to quit working.

Personally, I think she has bigger problems than this. Certainly better evidence of my unfit motherhood, anyway. There's, for instance, the fact that I noticed that she is wearing the exact same shirt to school today as she did yesterday, and I let her get away with it. I was happy to let her wear it again, because that means less laundry and less whining about clothes. She rarely takes off her hoodie sweatshirt anyway. Then, you should take into account that I decided pretzels were a perfectly healthy breakfast. That ought to help her test scores, right? We won't even mention the quality of dinners around this place in the last couple of weeks. I think we'll just say, if it weren't for some good friends, pretzels may have been on the acceptable dinner menu list more than once.

I think I will banish myself to bed and only come out when I am sure to make sound decisions and treat all of my children fairly. I will reconsider ballet class (for instance, should I add another one or just make her go to the one?) laundry woes, and menu planning. It may take some time. Once my head is clear, I will be much more likely to torture all of the children equally with opportunities to improve their talents and achieve good grades. I may possibly even feed them vegetables. You never know how brutal I may become. Watch out.

Dumbfounded

Okay, look what I found in the corner of the Living Room this morning:

What?!? Now, I may be heavily drugged this week (I am, it's true--blurred vision, dizziness, confusion, general yuckiness, slow reaction time, you name it, I've pretty much got it, I'm totally out of it) but even I have enough wits about me to realize that there is something wrong with this picture.

All of the sudden, my confusion about how the girls had somehow drunk almost a full gallon of milk from Sunday night to yesterday morning, turned into my confusion of how it is possible for a TEN or TWELVE year old to be stupid enough to leave milk in the Living Room. Where it is never allowed. Where I've never seen it before. Where it is so obviously out of place.

We questioned the Princesses. We got two confused looks, "What, milk was where?" and one stone cold silence. No explanation, no nothing. She didn't even blink when King crossed two dollars off of her allowance to pay us back for the milk. She just silently did her morning chores and got on the bus two minutes later. I am dumbfounded. Is my confusion wearing off on her? What in the world possessed her to do such a thing?

Fortunately, I have a really yummy recipe for Sour Milk Cake my mom used to make. Unfortunately, in my present drugged state, I think if I turn on the oven, I may burn the house down. So, I think our little Princess will be forced to do some baking when she gets home from school. Nothing like a warm chocolate cake to make having an addled daughter seem a little more bearable. Mmmmm, can't wait.

But now, I'm off to check under the beds for eggs and cheese, just in case. Stranger things have happened. What in the world is going on around this place?!?!?!?!

Cultured

We got a little extra culture this weekend, thanks to Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty. They were part of a state-wide choir and had a festival and recital on Saturday. They've been practicing and memorizing the songs for a few months after school and during recess. The work paid off, they sounded great. (Grandmas, you can see a little clip of the concert on our private blog, if you wish.)Also, Snow White had some of her art entered into an aircraft drawing contest. It was up on display at a local museum, and we went to visit it.Just call us artsy-fartsy. Pretty soon we'll be so cultured, we'll be putting on Shakespeare in our backyard for the neighbors. Or something like that.