Part 3! Trip to NYC. I still didn't get to meet Glenn Beck.

If you're just joining us, scroll down a few posts and start from the beginning of this intense saga!

NOTE: If I can't wrap this narrative up in this post, it's over and I'm afraid you're just going to be out of luck. I just can't write more than three posts about one single day. It isn't natural!

Let's commence with our story:


***We join our heroin having just arrived at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City. She has walked half the length of Central Park pushing a double stroller all so her second son can use a clean restroom to take care of some #2-related business!***


We leave the restroom (having NOT fulfilled our original #2 mission) and head for the main floor. My idea is to walk to the European Paintings exhibit (my favorite) and see as much as I can before the boys implode from boredom or get bodily removed by a docent. To that end, I'm walking through a gallery of ancient statues (hoping Max wont knock any over) when I see something miraculous;


(once again, cue spotlight and choir of angels singing "Ahhhhhhhhhh!")

My own personal miracle rained down upon my head because I'm such a darn good person and because I righteously post to my blog at least 2x a week...













(are you just dying of suspense?)













The exhibit in the next gallery is titled...



























Superheroes: Fashion and Fantasy





I'm saved. My boys glimpse Superman from afar and both tear off into the gallery. Yes, that's right. My boys are in a museum and they're excited and happy to be there. If you don't see the miracle in this, you haven't met my boys.
The exhibit is showcasing some of the original SUPERHERO costumes used in movies. Like the original Superman costume Christopher Reeve wore. And the Spiderman costumes Toby Mcquire wore. (Red and Black) Plus a bunch of Superhero inspired costumes and outfits made by famous designers for runway shows. And at the end, some old school comic books on display.

We spend the next half hour slowly walking through the exhibit and discussing the various Superheros and why they do what they do and wear what they wear. The boys recount to me all the commercials they've seen for various action movies and tell me all about the new IronMan movie which I've never even heard of. (His costume was on display also.) We also have a short discussion on modesty and free agency thanks to some of the ladies costumes on display. (Put 'em away, CatWoman, 'ya little minx!!)

When we leave the gallery, I get ahold of Doug. He's on his way from Brooklyn and is coming straight to the museum. I'm excited thinking maybe when he arrives he'll take the boys and let me go to the European Paintings gallery by myself.

So, I lazily find a bench near the front entrance and sit down to relax for a few minutes. Meanwhile, Karie and Lori have finished their celebrity meeting and are also headed in my direction. They got to go to Glenn Beck's studio, meet him, and then stick around and watch in the booth as he filmed his night-time news show. The (appropriately named) Glenn Beck show. Karie assures me it was the coolest thing ever and I would have loved it. I plan to kick her in the shins at the first opportunity.

A few minutes later, a man in a blue coat approaches us and announces "It's 5:15. The museum is now closed. Please head to the exit." Fifty blue coat clad employees suddenly materialize from nowhere and form an impenetrable line shepherding everyone towards the exit.

Doug calls. He's just arrived and wants to know where to find me. They almost don't let him in the door but he points and waves his arms towards me and they let him pass. We exit the museum together only to find that Karie and Lori have also just arrived. They, however, don't even get as far as the main lobby. Those blue-coated museum workers are serious about their jobs and they're not letting anyone keep them from going to dinner!

We walk and talk together for awhile, then go our separate ways. The ladies have dinner plans with a friend, and Doug and I just want to find the most kid-friendly place we can. (Which is no small feat.)

Thus we come to the end of this saga. (Actually, the saga continues until we roll into our driveway at 1:30a.m., but we've come to the end of the interesting part.)

Overall, it was a fabulous day. Sure, I wanted to curl up in a ball and cry a few times, but that's a pretty average day for me.

I'm VERY glad I got to see my sister one more time before leaving for Japan.

I'm also surprisingly sad that I wont be seeing New York again for a long long long time. After spending a week there when we first moved East, I feel down-right nostalgic about that city!

Well, once again, I've stayed up well past my bed time. All so I could bring you this life-changing blog post. I hope you appreciate my sacrifice in missed sleep! (Sure, Doug let me take a 2 hour nap today, but that doesn't mean I'm not still tired!)

I'll be posting again soon with more adventures from the lives of the Dubs. Only hopefully with less verbosity.*

Word to your Mother! (It's still technically Mother's Day since I haven't gone to sleep yet.)

goodnight!

*ver·bose /vərˈboʊs/ –adjective
characterized by the use of many or too many words; wordy: a verbose report.

Happy Mother's Day!

(One hot mamma!!!)

"Hey Fae, whatdaya say? Wanna go play? Down by the bay? I just may!"*


This was a common refrain from me in High School when I wanted to torment my mother.


Oh, and this;

"Faaaaaeee! Is this corn hand shucked?"**


Sometimes this;

"Fae, you're the devil!"***


Her inevitable response was "DON'T CALL ME FAE! Call me MOM!!!" and/or "I am NOT the devil!!!" But she could never keep a straight face and usually started laughing so I just taunted her a second time.****



*****

(In front of our Camino house in S.L.C. I love that she's barefoot!)

When my friends asked me why I called my mom Fae I'd reply, "With a name that cool, how can I not?"

But really it was just to tease her. (Until it became an unbreakable habit, that is.)
Now I either call her Fae or Mommy. One or the other.

Old habits die hard.


My point here is, Fae is awesome. She has a great sense of humor and doesn't take herself too seriously. When I'm dealing with my kids, I use her as an example of how to be a good mother. She was always extremely patient with me. I can't speak for the older kids, (they were a LOT naughtier than me) but I don't ever remember her yelling. All she had to do to discipline me was show her disappointment and I'd apologize pretty darn quick. Her good opinion was that important to me.


Recently, my mom remarried. At first I was really excited when she got a boyfriend. Then I started getting a little (okay, a lot) jealous (having always been her favorite child/human). But now I'm just happy she's happy. Even though I have to share her attention and affection.


Faezer, you're the best mom I could have asked for. I love you lots and lots!!!


Lot's of love,

Your favorite child, Emily

P.S. There have been a LOT of other great Mom's in my life. Especially the mom's of all of my High School and College friends. But I'm especially grateful for Doug's mom for raising such a fabulous son. (And one with low enough standards to marry me!!!) Thanks Mom-Susan!

*Adam Sandler in "Happy Gilmore"

**Bill Murray in "What About Bob?"

***SNL skit with Mike Myers and Nicole Kidman. "I'm a hyperactive hypoglycemic. I'm a hyper-hypo!"

****Frenchman taunt from "Monty Python and the Holy Grail"

*****Yes, I know I need to get some original material.

PART 2 Trip to New York when I DIDN'T get to meet Glenn Beck!!!

***After seeing a few sites and grabbing some hotdogs and ice cream from a vendor, it was time for Karie and Lori to leave for their meeting with Mr. Beck.*** (Switch to 1st person narrative)

Karie and Lori drop us off at one of the (many) Central Park playgrounds and are gone. Suddenly I'm on my own with three rambunctious little boys in quite possibly the LEAST child-friendly city in the country.

Now, two summers ago when we stayed in the city for a week, I was alone with the boys all day while Doug was at "work". But then I only had two boys. And since I have two hands, that was okay. But now I have three boys (see where I'm going with this?) and I do not have three hands. (Nor did I bring the kid-tether a.k.a. kid-leash.)

None-the-less, things are going great. The big boys are having a blast and Gabe is loving the baby swing.

Even potty breaks are no problem. In fact, the big boys don't even bother to consult me when they need to go!

Then things take a serious turn. Sam needs to go potty.

Again.

But not "pee-pee" this time. If you see what I mean.

So we need to find an actual potty fast. I may let my kids pee in public, but I have SOME limits!

I look at a map posted near the entrance of the playground. I see "The Met". (cue spotlight and choirs of angels singing "Ahhhhhh!!!")

I think: "It doesn't look too far away. And I'll bet the bathrooms there are better than park bathrooms. Plus, I just want to go back to "The Met". (How hip am I for calling it "The Met"?)

Gabe and Sam are dumped into the double stroller, Max grabs on, and off we go. I walk about 10 long, hot blocks before asking someone carrying a museum bag how much further it is.

Answer: 12 more blocks.

Max is whining, dragging his feet, and begging to rest. We stop for a minute.

I think about giving up and heading back into the park to find a bathroom so I ask a vendor where the nearest restroom is.

He says--while gesticulating in a North-North East-South Westernly direction--"Over down der".

I ralley the troops and we keep going towards the museum.

Did I mention it was 12 more blocks?

Did I mention that Sam+Gabe+DraggingMax+Stroller+2 backpacks=MeTired?

Eventually, we make it to The Met and it is a beautiful sight to behold. All except the huge stone stairway leading up to the front entrance. That for me and the stoller...not so welcoming. Fortunately, they have a Wheelchair/Stoller entrance. (Possibly the only one in a 17 mile radius.)

Once inside we head straight for the nearest bathroom where Sam informs me he no longer needs to go #2. I believe his exact words were "No! I dough need to sit down! I dough need go poopoo's! Just peepee's, Mom."

WELL WE COULD HAVE JUST TAKEN CARE OF THAT IN THE BUSH!!!

But whatever. We're here. Where I wanted to be.
Except it's not even remotely close to anywhere the boys want to be.

And then, I'm blessed with a miracle. (Cue spot light and choir of angels singing "Ahhhhhh!")

Only I'm not going to tell you what the miracle is.

Yet.

Because it's 1:30 in the morning and, despite it being Mother's Day, I will have to wake up and go to church in a few short hours where I get to teach Max's class of 12-28 six-year-olds.

And because I'm so tired it's taking me an average of 14.3 minutes per sentence and I'm pretty sure my spelling and puctuation have begun to suffer horribly.

So as much as I wanted to finish this dang post, it'll have to be continued.


Again.




goodnight!

"New York Trip" or "When I DIDN'T Get to Meet GLENN BECK!"

Kim and Cliff are doing some travelling to the Church History Sites and have been gone for the last two days. So yesterday, me and the boys did some travelling of our own. My sister Karie is visiting New York City for a few days so yesterday we went down to see her. Doug had some research to present in Brooklyn for the afternoon so it worked out perfectly. Here's a little re-cap of our trip: (for posterity.)

Woke up shortly after 6 a.m. with high hopes of catching an early train.

Realized that packing for one day is surprisingly hard and left late.

Drove for two hours listening to the following:

Can we listen to kid music? Can we listen to a different c.d.? What's happening? Can we skip this part? This is boring! I wish I could go to school today. I don't want to miss school. I'm tired! I don't want to take a nap! I'm not tired! I don't want to rest! I'm hungry. Can I have a snack? Why can't I talk? Why do I have to look out the window? Why are we going to New York? Why is Aunt Karie going to be there? Did you bring anything for me to do? I'm bored! RRRRRRRRROOOOOOAAAAARRRRRR!!!!! (Max)

AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!(terrified Sam)

Are we late? Are we going to miss the train? Why are we going on a train? Is that the train? Where is the train? Are we there yet?

Repeat ad nauseum.

9:20 a.m. Arrive in New Haven, Connecticut to catch the commuter train to New York City. Thoughts of comfy seating and dining cars flit through my head.

9:30 a.m. Board commuter train which is very similar to the subway. Dining Car dreams vanish.

9:33 a.m. Boys are excited to be on a train.

9:40 a.m. Boys are sick of the train. Except for Gabe who is really wants to explore the filthy floor.

9:46 a.m. Loud yammering starts again all while boys either stand, sit, fall, crawl, claw, punch, push, and/or pull.

9:47 a.m. Think wistfully of minivans with child restraints.

9:50 a.m. Someone steps on Gabey's head while we're trying to change a poopy diaper. Screaming ensues.

9:51 a.m. While comforting Gabey, we realize his shirt is already soaked with drool and we forgot to bring a bib or spare shirt. In addition, his shirt smells like mildew and it's getting worse the wetter he gets.

10 a.m. Doug falls asleep in self defense.

10 a.m. Emily pokes herself in the eye just for something fun to do.

--I've blanked-out the rest of the train trip.--

11:20 a.m. Arrive in Grand Central Station where we meet up with my sister Karie and her friend Lori. With two youngest boys in the double stroller, I threaten Max's life a few times, and send Doug off to his Research Thingamajig.

Lori is in town for some business and, while in town, has been invited to meet Glenn Beck and attend a taping of his CNN News Program. Karie is tagging along just for fun. (The injustice of this whole situation is, Karie has just come to know and love Glenn Beck recently. I've loved him for Much MUCH longer and listen to his radio show at least bi-weekly if the kids aren't demanding my attention.) Emily is EXTREMELY JEALOUS.

After hanging with Karie and Lori for awhile, they leave to go meet Glenn Beck. (Still jealous!!!)

The rest of the day is filled with an EXTENSIVE amount of walking, stroller pushing, and child scolding...but I'm going to have to get to that tomorrow. I know most of you have just been skimming for the last 12 paragraphs anyway. (You miss good stuff that way, ya know!)

Part 2 tomorrow!

TTFN!

***It should be noted here that taking the train DOES have several advantages! The avoidance of hazardous driving conditions and the problem of parking in "The City" are two of the largest. And for those two reasons alone, I'd probably do it again!***

Fuzzy Memories - Kim Edition

We were probably 14 or 15. I was sleeping over at Kim's house and it was pretty late at night. We were home alone.


***It should be mentioned here that Kim's house sits on a laaaaarge piece of property, is very old, and very--let's just say--atmospheric.***


The wholesome activity we'd chosen for the evening was sitting in the kitchen talking (about boys I assume) and roasting marshmallows--using forks--over the gas stove. (Hey, it works, alright?)

Suddenly we hear a noise and both stop to listen.


We hear the noise again and it's coming from the front of the house.


Being young girls, highly excitable, and in an "atmospheric" house, we go to investigate.

We find the front door slightly ajar. "Oh" Kim says, "it doesn't always close tight. The wind probably blew it open."


Nevertheless, being the sensible girls we are, we return to the kitchen and arm ourselves with the largest knives in the knife drawer. Then we sit down and continue talking.


A minute or two later, we hear another noise and both freeze, straining our ears for any sound. I'm sitting with my back to the sink and kitchen window.

Kim is facing me and sitting next to the stove.


In a split second, I hear Kim scream and watch as every drop of blood drains from her face. She's looking directly over my shoulder towards the kitchen window. I swivel my head to see a white face floating in the darkness and smiling and my Banshee screams join Kim's. By now we're both on our feet running across the room. On my way off the bar stool, I fling the knife I'm holding behind me towards the ghostly apparition. Instead of my would-be attacker, the knife hits a glass bowl and knocks it into the sink where it shatters loudly--adding to the cacophony. Kim also throws her knife, barely missing my knee-cap.


Now we're both across the room and turn to face what is surely to be the last thing we'll see before our untimely murders. We're gripping each other, white-faced, defenseless, and still screaming like--well--little girls.


It takes a second to sink in.


It's Stacy. Kim's older sister. She's standing on the porch outside the kitchen window.


She'd gotten home from work, heard us in the kitchen and decided to scare us. So she simply walked out on the deck and popped her head up in front of the window with a big smile on her face.


The ironic thing is, had she actually been an attacker, we would have been defenseless having stupidly thrown away perfectly good weapons.


It's pretty amazing neither of us had a heart incident that night. Or a pee incident for that matter! I think it took a week for my heart-rate to return to normal.

To this day, that is the most scared I have ever been.

I told you my scary story, now you tell me yours!

These Are The Days!

Last night right before the boys' bedtime, my cousin Kim and her husband Cliff arrived for a visit from Utah.

The boys got to play with them for a few minutes and then had to go to bed. This morning I was changing Gabe's diaper when I heard Sam wake up. He left the bedroom and ran straight to the family room window. A second later I heard wailing and gnashing of teeth and went to see what was wrong.

Sam had left the window, prostrated himself on the couch and was fake-sobbing very dramatically.

Me: Sammy what's wrong?
Sam: *sobs*
Me: Are you sad that Max left?
Sam: *sobs* No!
Me: Are you sad that Daddy left?
Sam: No!
Me: Are you sad that Kim and Cliff left?
Sam: YES!!!
Me: Sammy, they're not gone. They're downstairs sleeping.
Sam: But I didn't see theo caw!!!
Me: They flew on the airplane and then I picked them up from the airport.
Sammy: OH!
He then ran off happily to play.

Obviously we're all very excited Kim and Cliff are here.

Now to reminisce for a minute:

Kim has been a profound influence on me throughout my life. She was the first one to introduce me to the joy of shoving Black Cat Firecrackers* in garden tomatoes and throwing them over the fence into the neighbors yard. (Sorry Mom. Sorry yippy-little-dog-next-door.)

Kim was also responsible for sneaking me out my bedroom window when I was 16. We'd drive to "The Border"**, drive to Wendy's, drive to "The Sev"*** and then usually drive home... 'cause we really didn't have anything else to do. (It occurs to me that my dad reads this blog. Can I still get grounded for this, because I'm starting to sweat a little!?)

I like to think I also had a profound impact on Kim. When we were Freshman in college and neighbors at "The Glenwood", I noticed--and commented--that her wardrobe was solely comprised of unisex White t-shirts. (Either from In 'n Out or a Country Music concert.) (Mine was full of men's polyester and black t-shirts...much better.) This rude awakening gradually led her to expand her clothing horizons into form-fitting shirts of other colors and is probably the reason she is happily married today!

Isn't it great how we help each other out through life? Yes, those were the days!!!

Well, I'd love to stay and reminisce, but I've gotta go. Kim and I are going to go blow stuff up.

Sorry in advance to all the neighborhood dogs!

*Dad, remember when you snooped through my room and found the shoebox full of illegal fireworks that I had rightfully stolen from Brandon? And then how you wrongfully confiscated them, taped-up the box and hid it in your closet? Well, one day in a fit of righteous indignation, I snooped through YOUR closet until I found the box and stole the contraband back. Then I filled the box with rocks and cellophane and taped it back up and put it back in your closet. Boy, it feels good to get that off my chest! (I'm only admitting this because I'm pretty sure there's a statue of limitations AND because I'm moving to Japan.)

**Taco Bell. The drive-thru was open 24 hours. It was totally the cool place to "cruise".

***7-11. I'd get the Hot Chocolate and add about 12 Chocolate-flavored creamers. Ummm...chocolate...!

A Life In Review

Gabe can;

crawl fast,

stand-up and walk with help,

wave bye-bye,

sign "more" and "all done",

say "Mama", "Dada", and "Ah-yah" (that's for Max and Sam)

give hugs and slobbery kisses,

wrestle with Daddy and Brothers,

fake cry and fake laugh,

empty a cupboard, drawer, or toy box in record time,

melt hearts,

and get whatever he wants whenever he wants it!!!

Happy Birthday Angel Baby!!!

A Little Resin Miracle

NEW!

St. Joseph Statue Kit
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Evidently, THIS is what I need to get my house sold! Who knew?

Oprah reads my blog for ideas!

On Tuesday I got to guest blog for my sister-in-law Laura. I wanted to know what YOU would do if you witnessed bad behavior by someone in a public place. Would you intervene? Get involved? Report them anonymously? Do nothing? The few times I've done nothing, I've regretted it later so I was curious about what others would do.

Then yesterday I just happened to catch a commercial for the Oprah show and tuned-in to watch. The topic was "What Would You Do?" and there were hidden camera's involved. Did you happen to see this one? What did you think? (Check it out here!)

It was disheartening to see so many people walk right past bad situations without stopping to help. But then were were the people who DID get involved and DID try to help. I was literally cheering out-loud for these people!

It made me all the more determined to do the right thing in the future.
Whatever that "right thing" is, it'll definitely be better than doing nothing!

Agree or disagree? Twalk amongst yourselves! (Then leave a comment)

What Spring Looks Like...

...in our neck of the woods.

One of the best things about all the bright green leaves sprouting, is that they hide all of our neighbors. In a few more days, we wont be able to see them (or their side-yards full of junk) and they wont be able to see us. We'll be alone again on our private island in the woods!

That is...until we leave for our own little not-so-private island in the middle of the ocean.

What's In A Name?

I started this blog a long time ago.

Hold on.

Let me check how long ago:

*short pause while I do some research*

Alright. It was 9/14/05.
That's September 14th, 2005 for you dummies out there.
(Sorry for calling you a dummy. Sometimes I'm just in a mean mood.)

Back then, my kids looked like this: (They're the boys, not the girls, Dummy!)

I only had two of them and they were perfectly well-behaved, sweet, innocent, and evidently extremely grubby. (This picture was taken on a camping trip. Give me a break.)

Following the example of my sister-in-law Laura, (aka Mrs. Dub) I started a blog and THIS my friends, is an exact replica of my VERY FIRST POST!!!

Read it carefully, for it explains EVERYTHING!!!

***

So I created a blog, looked through the "Foreign Words and Phrases" in the back of the dictionary for a clever name, picked my template...

I think I expected more.

Oh well. Maybe I'll be more excited about my first dip into blogdom when it's not so late. Or early. Or whatever. I just want to show off pictures of my adorable children. Is that so wrong? I think not. Goodnight!

***

Yes, that's right. I found the name of my blog, "acte gratuit" in the back of a dictionary in the "Foreign Words and Phrases" section. (The desk edition, not the pocket-size.)

It was a completely random choice made in the middle of the night. No, I do not speak French. My blearly thoughts went something like this: "acte gratuit: Gratuitous act. Hmmm. I like the word 'gratuitous'! And it's kinda like the creation of this blog! Sorta pointless and unnecessary!"

It was probably a few minutes later that I had to call one of my Young Women (this one) to ask how to add a link to the side-bar. (She's not linked on my side-bar because I don't want anyone stalking my Young Women. Or Young Neices (Madi). So just leave her (them) alone!)

After this stellar beginning, it took me 7 months to do another post.

And that my friends, is how I ended up with the name Acte Gratuit; two French words I can't even pronounce properly. And also the reason we shouldn't blog after midnight. Which is why I'm going to bed now.

Sincerely,

Your Friend the Dummy,

Acte Gratuit

(That's "twee" not "too-it"!)

(...i think.)

Soon to be FAMOUS

Well, I hope you got my signature (or a lock of my hair) when you had the chance because after today I'm going to be totally FAMOUS! That's because I'm blogging somewhere else today and it's--like--a totally popular blog. And I'm pretty sure it's going to lead to a book deal.
--I'll try to remember you in the credits!

Peace out, Peeps!

How To Avoid Housework:

Sit down in front of the computer and you'll find plenty of things to occupy your time. (Oh wait...isn't this what Elder Ballard cautioned against*? D'oh! I'll do better tomorrow.)

For example, I decided my recipe blog has a lack of representation from the non-breakfast/non-dessert group. (What's the name of that group again?) So I posted my mother-in-law's Scrumptious Spinach Salad recipe. I really love my Mother-in-Law! She's a really excellent lady and a really excellent cook! (Aren't you jealous that I love my MIL and you don't? Thought so.)

AND I was thrilled to find that the cool font used in my word document, showed up in Blogger! It didn't lose the formatting!!! It kept the pretty font I used for the title!!! This has never happened before!!! IS ANYONE ELSE THRILLED AND AMAZED?!?! (Or is it just a fluke and it's showing up on your screen as Arial? Stupid, ugly Arial!)

Next thing: You know those people who start a blog, write a few posts, and then poop-out? (YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE, JEN ROSS I mean PEOPLE!!!)

Well, my sister-in-law Christina is one of these people. She was going strong, then slacked off never to update again. Then recently she started a new blog (using Blogger) and is now posting again like a maniac. So Post-lific** is she, that I can hardly keep up! But today I read her latest post and I loved it.

Just as some background, Chrissy is married to my only brother. The one boy sandwiched between four girls. (Which is why we had a Navajo Indian foster brother for 10 years...but that's another story.) My brother Brandon is a completely psychotic person and an evil computer genius. But he's the best big brother a girl could ask for. (That's a complete lie, because I totally would have asked for a brother with a lot less gas and far fewer evil-mischievous tendencies.) No really! I'm very grateful he's my brother and I've always looked up to him. (Even after several incidences that proved him to be sick and twisted.)

That said, it should be noted he married someone just as evilly-brilliant as himself. Chrissy is also sick and twisted! She likes bugs. Really really likes them. And reads text-books for fun. And doesn't read fiction. And she likes school so much she keeps going back for more. How much more screwed up can a person be? But yet, she's surprisingly still really cool and fun to be around. And her blog is as funny and twisted as she is.

Anyway, take a gander and read about some of the experiences she's had leading up to the adoption of 3 of their 6 kids. (My adorable and brilliant nieces and nephews.) Whenever I hear these stories, I immediately want to sign up as a foster parent. Little does Doug know I'm just biding my time until we have an income not subsidized by high-interest loans! Then, let the baby barrage begin! I'm all over that.
Read Chrissy's latest Sunday Post here. Then go save a child!

Okay, I could go on posting randomness all day. (And have in the past.) But I think that's enough for now. My children demand lunch and my cold toes demand socks. So TTFN!

P.S. I'm still trying to get my Blog Roll up-to-date! If you're someone I know (or someone I don't know who reads this blog) and you have a blog, and I haven't posted the link to your blog, leave a comment and I'll do it! I HATE LEAVING PEOPLE OUT!!!



*"...And don’t allow yourself to be caught up in the time-wasting, mind-numbing things like television soap operas or surfing the Internet." It should be noted that reading this blog is NOT time-wasting, only slightly mind-numbing, and absolutely does NOT count as surfing the Internet. So READ-ON!!! (Just cut-out the soaps!)

**I totally just made up a new word and I expect credit in the next edition of Merriam-Webster.

An Eye for an Eye!

Max spent quite awhile this morning working on a tough puzzle and was pretty proud that he did it all by himself.

A few minutes later, before Daddy even got to see it, Sammy came by and messed it all up. Max was upset and I dragged Sammy into time-out. (Kicking and screaming, of course.)

While he was gone, I sat Max down and decided this was a prime teaching opportunity.

"Max, do you know what Jesus would do if someone slapped him? He'd turn his cheek and let that person slap the other side! It's called 'turning the other cheek'!"

Blank stare.

"Okay Max...give my cheek a little slap. Not hard, just a little one." (He looks baffled and slaps his own cheek.)

"No, slap MY cheek."

He pauses and then very tentatively slaps my cheek.

"See, if you did that to me, and I were Jesus, I'd let you slap the other side too!"

More blank staring.

This isn't going well. I'm quickly losing confidence in my example, the Bible, and my general comprehension of Judeo-Christian ethics.

"Alright Max, the point is, if someone does something you don't like, you don't get mad! You forgive them!" (But I'm not about to tell him to just let the person smack him again.)

Look of complete bewilderment.

I'm gonna let this one go. Time to deal with Sammy. Exit stage left.

"Sammy! You need to go upstairs and say 'sorry' to Max! You messed up his puzzle and that made him very sad! Go say 'sorry', okay?"

Sam leaves the room and goes upstairs. A second later he's crying loudly and stomping back down the stairs.

"What happened Sammy?"

"Max FWAPPED me!!!"





I quit.

J is For...Cheesecake

I have a lot of Jennifer's in my life. First and foremost, there's my sister Jenny. You may recall she recently visited here from Virginia. Next we have the "ward Jen's". J-Co the Primary President and her counsellors Jenni M. and Jen T. All good friends of mine. Of course, we can't forget FabulousPhotographerJen (previously of R.I.) of Jen Lee Photography.

Friends Jenn Ross and Jenny Fairbanks were in my San Francisco ward, and Jennerator I've know since High School.

That's eight Jennifers, but I'm probably forgetting a few.
{Sorry Jen(s)}

Anyway, for the most part these Jen's don't have a lot in common. Except two. My sister Jenny F. reminds me of my friend Jenni M.

Here's what they have in common: Both of them are soft spoken, both have serious Internet Safety concerns, both have recently had serious below-the-knee fractures, and both love to BAKE! While Jenny my sister was visiting, she made us the best Ciabatta bread to go with our pizza one night! I'm getting hungry just thinking about it. She's also the source of numerous other delish recipes.

Sort of like Jenni M., my friend and neighbor who stopped by with this yesterday:

Yep, that's right. Chocolate Cheesecake. But not just any Chocolate Cheesecake. Only the most delicious Chocolate Cheesecake I've ever eaten. (Better than any Cheesecake Factory offering I've tried...and that's sayin' something.) One of the best Chocolate desserts I've ever tasted! Like top three.
What did I do to deserve this? I had a birthday.

Bet you wish you were me, huh?!?

THANK YOU Jenni M.!!! You're my new favorite Jennifer!
Not that I have favorites or anything...

Gotta go. I have some eating to do.

I love Jen's!

Buy Our House!

This house selling thing really stinks! Today we had our second Open House. We cleaned for two days. The Open House lasted two hours. Three people came through. We've had zero offers.

After this sort of time investment, I expect some real appreciation! I want the Open House Attendees to gaze adoringly at my color-coded closet. I want them to inspect the grout I scrubbed on my hands and knees!

Yes, Lookee-Lou's, feel free to sprawl on my plumped couch cushions and eat at my beautifully set table. Sit on the toilet and appreciate the artfully arranged custom photography of local landmarks. Check under the beds! Open every cupboard and closet door! Sniff the fresh smelling air and feel the sun shining through the meticulously shined windows!

But whatever you do, don't traipse through the house in under five minutes (scuffing the newly painted staircase on your way) and disappear forever!

I made you muffins! I polished every door handle! I locked my kids out in the yard for hours!!!

JUST BUY MY DANG HOUSE!

Please!

My boys just want to come back inside!

Book Review

I have ONE New Years Resolution this year that I can still remember and it is to "Read Less Crap". Or in other words, "Read More Classic Literature".

I've just started my first classic: "Howards End" by EM Forster. (So far, so good.) But that's not to say I've been reading crap. In fact, since January I've read quite a few excellent books:

First off: "Chesapeake" by James A. Michener
Around the time I moved here, (to the East Coast) my good friend and former Relief Society President, Linda Martin, recommended I read "Chesapeake". Since she has excellent taste and I always love her recommendations, I checked it out. Unfortunately, I was intimitated by it's sheer bulk and never started it. (I read on Wikipedia that Mr. Michener is said to "write by the pound.")
Finally, in December of last year, I decided to just do it. (I was probably inspired by a Nike commercial.) I got it from the library, and dug in. It took me a few chapters to get hooked, but soon I was engrossed. This is a novel that can be described by any and all of the following words or phrases: Epic, weighty tome, historical fiction, long, sweeping saga, really long, meticulously researched, super long, and/or bloody heavy to cart around.
Here is a blub from Wikipedia:
"The story deals with several families living in the Chesapeake Bay area, from 1583 to 1978. The storyline, like much of Michener's work, depicts a number of characters over a long time period. Each chapter begins with a voyage which provides the foundation for the chapter plot. It starts in 1583 with American Indian tribes warring, moves through English settlers throughout the 17th century, slavery and tobacco growing, pirate attacks, the American Revolution and the Civil War, Emancipation and attempted assimilation, to the final major event being the Watergate scandal. The last voyage, a funeral, is in 1978.
The novel has a number of central themes, such as religion, slavery, poverty, and industry, each personified by a particular family that settles on the bay, and in some cases, by several families."
See what I mean? Long. And Heavy.
BUT I found it very interesting, and I was fascinated by the historical context.
Conclusion: It was a great book. You should especially check it out if you're an East-Coaster. But don't think you'll finish it in a weekend.

Next we have "Gilead" by Marilynne Robinson
This was a birthday gift from my fabulous friend Wahine (known to some as Kristen R.). This book is comprised of a dying Pastors letters or "begats" to his young son. He knows he is dying and is trying to leave something of himself behind; Some of his experience, personal history, and wisdom. The book deals with some pretty heavy issues like theology, mortality, and forgiveness. Its themes gave me a few minor anxiety attacks (because I don't like thinking about death) but it was still a great and inspiring book and I can recommend it without reservation.

Third: "Blessings" by Anna Quindlen
Ms. Quindlen is a writer who I'm very familiar with in a different format. She writes "The Last Word" for Newsweek about twice a month. Considering I vehemently disagree with pretty much every word she writes in that area, (and can often be heard yelling at the magazine while reading her articles,) I was surprised to find how much I enjoyed her writing as a novelist. This was a quick read with a great premise. Although I didn't much care for the ending, I still enjoyed it and thinks it's worth the read. There were a few swear words but not a ton, and no R-rated scenes that I can recall.

Last, we have two books by Barbara Kingsolver: "The Bean Trees" and "Pigs in Heaven" borrowed from my friend Diane. (As was "Blessings")
I really liked these books. They were really quick and easy to read, with a great premise, local color, and a well constructed plot. One aspect of the books involves the Cherokee Indians and the Cherokee Nation Reservation in Oklahoma. Since I grew up with a Navajo Indian Foster Brother, I found this aspect of the books (especially in "Pigs in Heaven") extremely fascinating.
The only downside are a few s.e.x scenes (which, sadly, seem to pervade all popular adult fiction these days.) I don't know if I'd necessarily give these an R-rating. There are some adult themes and there is some s.e.x. But the s.e.x wasn't prevalent and was therefore easy to skip over. But I'd probably rate them PG-16 because frankly I don't think 13-year-olds are mature enough for these books!
Probably what I liked the most was how these books came together at the end with what I consider happy endings. I LOVE happy endings. I'm just cheesy that way. (But really, if I want un-happy endings, I'll watch the news.)
That's all for now. I'd love to hear what you think about these books if you've read them. If not, let me know what you HAVE read lately and what you recommend!

Happy Reading!

Word.

Easter High's and Low's

High:
My sister Jenny (Jay, Jay-Bird, Jennerator) and her family came to stay with us for a long weekend. We were sooooo happy to see them and my boys loooooooved seeing their cousins, Aunt Jenny, and Uncle Stu!
Low:
They only got to stay for a few days so we didn't have enough time to see and do everything we wanted! High:
We ate lots of yummy food including; Lobster (and other varied Seafood), homemade Ciabatta Bread and BBQ Chicken Pizza, Chocolate Mousse Cake, Lion House German Chocolate Cake (thanks Stu) and Easter dinner (which included Ham, Scalloped Potatoes, and homemade rolls).
Low:
We never got a chance to eat the New England Creamery "Martha's Vineyard Black Raspberry" Ice Cream I bought for them, didn't have time to make Ebelskivers or Eggs Benedict, and now have no one to share the 12 pounds of left-over ham!
High:
Jay and family got to see where we live, hang out at our beach, and visit Boston for the day.
Low:
Jenny twisted her ankle while in Boston and it turns out it's fractured. She'll be in a walking cast for the next 8-12 weeks. Which also happens to be how long she has left of her pregnancy.
High:
It was a great visit and we loved seeing them again.
Low:
I'm really sad that they're gone!!! WE MISS YOU GUYS!!!



Luckily, I have a whole half-gallon of "Martha's Vineyard Black Raspberry" Ice Cream to console me.

Happy Easter!!!

Under Construction!

OF COURSE you noticed my awesome new Masthead. It was created by my extremely talented friend Katie.


Katie and I worked together a long time ago in the same department at UVSC.

I bought her friendship with candy bars.

Then later she and her husband bought my house.

I got the better end of both deals.

(I wish she were here now to buy my current house.)

Back to the point: she has mad computer skills and she made me a cool masthead.
And she can make one for you to. She charges $100.
(Do you mind that I just started a business for you Katie?)
You only get this deal through me! Everyone else she charges $150.


AND if you call in the next 15 minutes, we'll throw in this set of Ginsu knives ABSOLUTELY FREE! Please make your checks payable to Emily Dub. (I'll make sure Katie gets plenty of candy bars!)


P.S. Katie is NOT addicted to candy bars. She only loves them as much as any other red-blooded American.

P.P.S. I'm still making changes to my blog. Pardon my dust.


(Sorry Chrissy! This is the best I could do.)

Baby Jamz!

Awhile ago my sister-in-law Laura got me this sweet new gig with a company called "Team Mom". Every once in awhile, they're gonna send me a kid-related product or toy for FREE and I'll review it on my blog. It's pretty much a win/win situation for everyone. (Did I mention I get stuff for FREE?!?) Well, I got my first box from Team Mom and it was sorta like Christmas.

The first product I've been asked to review is the...*drumroll please*
Baby Jamz Jammin' Microphone and the Baby Jamz Nursery Rhyme CD. This is a new hip-hop toy line created by the Family Knowles. The songs on the c.d. are old stand-bys like "This Old Man" and "Mary Had a Little Lamb" but hip-hop-funkified.
I have only three words to describe it: Fresh to Death!

Now, being more of an 80's fan myself, I admit I would have preferred a toy synthesizer which played kid versions of "Just Can't Get Enough" and "Oh l'Amour" but we can't always get what we want. (But we get what we need.)

So what did the boys think? Before we even got the microphone out of the package, both Max and Sam were fighting over it and getting their hip-hop groove on. The mic amplifies your voice but also plays songs and lets you record your voice and play it back. It's the shizzle!


Once the C.D. was pumping the dance party began. Max was poppin' some SERIOUS moves. Arms were flying, heads rocking, and hips, um...gyrating? It was quite a sight.

If you love hip-hop and want to get your kids to get their groove on, you gotta get you some of this action in the hizzle. For rizzle. Oh no I di'nt. Oh yes I did.

(I missed Max's most SWEET dance moves and he couldn't be bothered to recreate them...but you get the idea.)

Oh yeah! You can get the goods at Wal-Mart!

Peace Out!

I've Strayed...

I've been cheating on you, dear Blog-with-the-Unpronounceable-Name! (What, you thought I could speak French? HA!)

Yes, that's right. There's a new blog in my life. It's just a baby and only has a few posts, but I'm hoping it will make all of my wildest dreams come true! Here it is: http://www.liveinwarwick.blogspot.com/.

As I'm sure you all know someone hoping to relocate to "Lil Rhody", please refer them to this site!

Raising Cain. I mean Sammy!

You may remember a few weeks back when I wrote about Sammy biting me (viciously, I might add) and I asked for your help and advice. WELL, don't let it hurt your feelings, but you were all worthless.
So a day or two after writing the post I asked Sam's preschool teacher for advice. (He goes 3 afternoons a week.) She referred me to the school director who, upon seeing me, said "You look like you need a hug!" (I did.)
I gave her the 411. (Do people even say that anymore?) I told her that most of our battles revolved around dressing for school. I told her Sam doesn't like getting dressed and when I try to dress him, he bites me. (Did I say "viciously" already?)

"OH!" she said "Don't battle him to get dressed!"

Me: "Okay, but he won't do it on his own."

Her: "That's okay! Don't fight him on it!"

Me: "He'll be coming to school naked."

Her: "That's okay! Bring his clothes along! He'll have to sit on his cubby until he decides to get dressed. He wont be able to participate until he's fully clothed."

Next day:
Sam woke up and took off his p.j.'s and Pull-up. Fortunately, he let me put underwear on him. I asked him if he wanted to get dressed and he said "No." A little later I asked if he wanted to get dressed for school. He said "No." I told him he'd have to go in his underwear and that it would be cold. Still "No."

Time to go to school. It's freezing outside. Sam choose not to get dressed and walked to the car in his shoes and snappy's.

We get to school. "Would you like to put your clothes on now Sammy?"

"NOOOOOOO!!!!"

"Would you like your coat on? It's very cold!"

"yes."

"Okay! Let's go!"

So we started the long walk up to his preschool; through the parking lot, up the long walkway and into the building.

One dad walking towards us looked down at Sam and let out a loud guffaw.

Here was Sammy, walking serenely towards school with his open coat showcasing his tummy and Thomas undies. Once we arrived I handed him off to the teacher at the door. She couldn't help it. She started laughing.

Sam glared.

The other teacher came to the door and she started laughing and said "Saah-mmy! Whaddaya doooing??? Wheh ahh ya clothes???"

Sam looked embarrassed.

He tried to hide behind me and I could tell he was getting a little embarrassed and flustered. Luckily, his favorite TA "Miss Dee" came to the rescue. She asked if he wanted to get dressed and when he--sheepishly--said "yes", she whisked him to a corner at the back of the room and helped him put his clothes on.

He hasn't bitten me since and is usually happy to get dressed in the mornings. (If his pants aren't too big, too small, too cold, or too scratchy.)

THE END

Next time on "Adventures in Child Rearing" learn about how one mom got her recalcitrant 3-year-old to buckle up by slamming her brakes on hard and repeatedly!

Now for your viewing pleasure, please watch this short clip of Sammy being photographed by Max. (Max didn't know the digital camera was set to "video".)

Gabe Has Hair!

And I can prove it...

Important Stuff

First, I'm going to start out by saying that Doug's blog output is putting mine to shame. He's done practically a post per day since we got home from Florida*. Of course, my blog will always be, like, a thousand times better, but that's neither here nor there. Oh, and did I mention he tried to tarnish my sorta-good name by making me seem cold and heartless? Well he did. On February 15th, to be precise. (That quote was taken totally out of context, by-the-way.)

B. All three of my kids have been sick for the last week. It started with Sammy getting a fever on the plane ride home. It's been downhill ever since. High Fevers, (104) coughs, congestion, puke and snot, missed sleep, excessive whining and tears. It's been a slightly he!!ish week. I blame the germy little cousins we saw in Florida**. All of them.

Next: In preparation for listing our house on the market, we're sprucing things up around here a bit. While we were out of town, we had our hard wood floors refinished. Yesterday Doug started the process of replacing the kitchen counter tops. Tomorrow, I'll be painting trim all day. It's loads of fun, but we can't do it all ourselves.
That why I'd like to share this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity with you!!! If you're a professional home "stager" or decorator, you're cordially invited (for a limited time) for a
FREE, week long visit to the beautiful New England seashore!!!*** Room and Board will be provided, as well as Minivan usage and Professional Tour Guidance. All in exchange for a small smackeral of decorating advice and assistance.
Act NOW! This offer wont last!!!

Fourthly; Here at the Dub house, we have a *general/flexible* "No T.V. except for Sunday Shows on Sunday" rule. Doug thinks 'Nature Shows' are the exception. I think Nature Shows are ALL about s.e.x and violence and that Cooking Shows, Home Decorating Shows, Hallmark Channel Movies, Fox News and Musicals should be the exception. What do you think?

That's all for now. If I think of any more important stuff, you'll be the first to know.

*I made "Florida" orange to make you think of Florida Orange Juice. See how clever and subtle I am?
**I didn't change the color of this "Florida" because you're supposed to be focused solely on my miserable life right now. Not your beverage preferences. You're so selfish.
***No purchase necessary. Airfair, travel expenses, liquor costs, Valium, ear-plugs, and spending money not included. Professional Tour Guide is not actually a Professional. Must be 16 years or older, non-creepy, willing to also babysit while you're here, (just for an evening!?!) and a U.S. citizen to qualify. Actual decorating expertise not all that important.

One way or another, it's all about dressing up.

It was my freshman year of college and I was living at The Glenwood in Provo. As Valentines Day approached, my friends and roommates and I contemplated what do do in our boyfriend-less state.

I'm pretty sure it was Christina who made the suggestion the day before V-day. A friend of Malia, (Or was she a friend of Joanna?) I envied her petiteness and the fact that she could pull-off white blonde hair in a pixie cut with funky glasses. Anyway, she suggested we hold a Halloween Party...the very antithesis of the gooey/lovey/hearty-farty affairs planned by many of our more lucky-in-love neighbors.

We agreed immediately and plans (and phone-calls) were made. First, we had to decide on costumes. Luckily, my closet was filled with thrift-store finds including a vintage lace old lady dress with matching shoes (my costume), a florescent green disco dress with matching hooker boots (worn by Rama) and various polyester work shirts with patches baring names like Steve and Ric. (Worn by other roommates.) Once arrangements were made and costumes settled on, we decided we need to increase the number of invited guests.

(Before the party)

Now, The Glenwood was layed out with all the guys apartments on one side, and all the girls apartments on the other. We, of course, went immediately to the guys apartments and started knocking on doors of complete strangers. The guys who had plans were getting ready to leave or were already gone, but we were surprised to find so many stragglers. Guys with no dates, sitting around either alone or with a roommate, watching t.v. in the dark.

We burst into their apartments and invited them to the party starting in only an hour.

Malia's costume was a string Christmas lights and after Ang and I gave our pitch, she'd ask politely, "Mind if I light up?" and proceed to plug herself into the nearest outlet. A lot of total strangers showed up that night. One guy even called the next day to thank us for inviting him.


For me the highlight was when the Accordian Player showed up to serenade the party with love songs. He'd been hired as a singing telegram and since the recipeint was at the party, he was redirected to our apartment.
I don't remember many of the details after that, but I know the party was a success. It became a tradition and for the next few years. While I had roommates, we had a Halloween Party to celebrate Valentines Day.
(This was one held at the Old Mill and hosted by Anna, Michelle and I. We invited the pizza delivery guy and he came back and joined us after getting off work.)


I have to admit, I do miss those Halloween parties but I'm pretty happy with the upgrade. I love having a perma-Valentine. Afterall, I got delicious French Toast in bed this morning (with vanilla ice cream, syrup, strawberries, apple sauce and spray whip all in little custard cups on the side.)

Tonight for dinner it'll be my turn to cook and I'm going to make Four Cheese Pasta, French Bread, and something gooey and chocolatey for dessert. But of course, not everyone has a significant other to help them celebrate the holiday of all things heart shaped. If that's the case, I highly recommend you consider Halloween as an alternative. Because after chocolate truffles, the next best treat in the world is Candy Corn!


Happy Holidays!

Happy Birthday to ME!

Guess where I got to go for my 30 birthday??? I'll give you 3 hints:

That's right, this year I celebrated my birthday with a week long trip to Disney World accompanined by 3 out of 4 of my siblings and all their kids!!!

"Wow!" you say, "They go on a lot of trips!"

"We live life to the fullest!" I say, "And with the maximum amount of student loans!"

Alright, so we actually didn't go to D-world just for my birthday. We ACTUALLY went for the D.S. Call Don't-Call-Me-A-Call-Girl Annual (Sometimes semi-annual or every-other-annual) Family Reunion!

And it just happened to coincide with my 30th birthday.

I believe the reasoning went something like this:

Older (Allegedly Wiser) Siblings: "It's the off-season! It won't be crowded at all!!!"

The reality was more like this:

Naysaying Sister: "It's the week of Mardi Gras and Carnival! All of Louisiana and Brazil are here this week!"

But despite the crowds, it was a great week, filled with sunshine, family, and FUN visiting the various Disney attractions.

And it really is a great place to celebrate a birthday. I got to wear a birthday button so all the employees wished me happy birthday all day long. I even got two free treats! (One Frozen Lemonade and one Mickey Supreme!)

And I'm actually happy to be 30. Don't get me wrong, I had a great 29th year, but there's nothing all that special about being in your late 20's. Thirty on the other hand...thirty is SOMETHING! (I'm not sure what yet, but I'll let you know.)

So that's the story of how my whole family flew to Orlando to celebrate the start of my fourth decade on earth. And why I've been MIA for awhile. And how to properly celebrate a significant birthday. And how to get free ice cream on a stick.

I think we've all learned something here today.

I know I have.

C-you real soon!

Quick Thought

The other day when I was thinking about President Hinckley I pictured him when seeing Heavenly Father for the first time and saying with a twinkle in his eye "Is this because I re-used my last talk?"