User Error

All right, apparently I suck at this. 

I'm STILL not getting emails notifying me when you leave comments!!!

I just figured no one was bothering to comment at all, and sort of kicking myself for changing things around.  And then I was messing with the settings on my blog, and noticed the tab for comments "awaiting moderation" and realized there were about six comments just sitting there waiting for me to notice them!

How am I this dumb?  And why is it that I still cannot for the life of me figure out how to make it so that I get that stupid email notification!?!?!?

Who knows how to fix this?  Please tell me!  You just want to email me or call me, though, since comments seem to not be my thing...

Love at Home

I'm going to brag for just a bit.

My kids were SO GOOD yesterday!  I think a lot of it was the switch to morning church (hallelujah!!!), but they all sat quietly through sacrament meeting.  Even Ryder didn't have to be taken out!  And this with us not providing snacks for them!  (That was on purpose, actually-- I'd warned them that with morning church I no longer felt that they would need snacks, so they'd better eat a good breakfast.  And they did!)  After church, we ate lunch together (um, except Craig, the lone person fasting), and then Ryder and I took naps while Craig played with Bentley and Kendra.  And he reported that they had an absolutely delightful time, playing Go Fish, having a talent show, and playing pictionary!

Seriously, it was like roses were blooming beneath our feet or something!

We certainly have good times in our home, but entire days like this are a bit on the rare side, so I want to document that they are possible!  Even for us.  Especially for us, I guess.

I wish I could put my finger on what it was that made this happen so then I could keep repeating it.  I doubt it's any one thing or that it's that simple.  But gosh darn it, I'll keep trying to recreate this bliss for the rest of my life, if I have to!

We really can have a happy home!

Christmas Surprises

Christmas was wonderful.  Singing Christmas songs continually brought tears to my eyes and I enjoyed a wonderful spirit the entire season (blame it on the hormones, but in this case, they were nice tears).  But I'm not going to bore you with all the spiritual stuff because I want to tell you about a couple of the super great presents we got!!!  I'm shallow like that.

Some weeks ago, my Mom and Craig got to talking and decided to get my blog posts all bound up in a book for me.  It was a perfect project for the two of them: Craig did all the work, and my Mom paid for it all and they were both very happy.  Unfortunately, when the finished product came, I saw that we had a box addressed to Craig with no indication of who it was from, and figured it was probably a present FOR Craig and opened it up, intending to wrap it for him and put it under the tree.  In my defense, I told this plan to Craig and he agreed it was a good idea, so it's not like I was being devious or anything.  If Craig would have looked more closely at the box, he would have seen the return address and realized what it was and stopped me.  But he didn't.  And I ended up opening my big surprise about 6 days before Christmas.

Craig was so unhappy!  He'd worked so hard and was so sad that my big surprise was ruined.  The second I had the box opened, he realized his mistake and snatched it out of my hands.  He wouldn't tell me anything about it and hid it away, threatening that I would never see it again.  He had a few days to stew over it all, so that was when he came up with his revenge. He was bound and determined to surprise me one way or another!

He was sneaky about it, too.  He put a present under the tree with this adorable tag:

To: Alanna
From:
Director, Patrice Bentley
Executive Producer, Rex Bentley
Artistic Direction, Craig Smith
 and
Award Winning Author, Alanna Smith

But inside, rather than my blog book, was some book about spies (this was not a coincidence, Craig pointed out) along with a sonnet he'd written (I love sonnets, and he'd put it in iambic pentameter and everything!) about how because I'd ruined my surprise by peaking, I would have to work to get my book.  Then it suggested that I check out the filing cabinet drawers. 

In the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet, I found a present, but this one was way too small to be my book.  As I unwrapped it, I quickly discovered that it had been wrapped several times.  Actually, probably at least twenty times.  Most of those layers were done with wrapping paper, but occasionally he'd gotten creative and used yarn, A/C unit tape, cloth & safety pins, and even a plastic bag.  It took me forever to finally get down to the folded up note which contained my next clue: this time I had to go to the crawl space.

Inside the crawl space was a huge box.  Which contained a smaller box.  And then several more smaller boxes (I think 5 or 6, all told).  And then another 20 or so layers of wrapping.  It took me so long to unwrap all these that I had to go to the bathroom before I was done!  The next clue was a bit more obtuse: it informed me that my present was NOT in Craig's car.  I wasn't sure what do with that information.  I tried looking in my car, and got nothing.  So I opened up the trunk of Craig's car and found a present with the words, "This is not your book.  Surprise!"

Upon opening this gift (only one layer of wrapping paper), I discovered a framed portrait from our wedding!  We'd been talking about getting one ever since the big day seven-and-a-half years ago and just never gotten around to it, so this made me burst into happy tears.  What a lovely thing to finally own!  There was also a note that told me to look in Craig's dresser, which was where my book was hiding.

So I ended up being surprised after all.  AND I have a big fat book of all my blog posts from 2011 and 2012.  This probably makes me the biggest narcissist in the world, but I really do enjoy reading my old blog posts, so I'm excited to have them in a more tangible format.  Just those two years took up 300 pages, so I guess that even after five years of blogging, I still have a lot to say!  And Craig promises that we can get the other years published some other day.  (Birthday present for me, Mom?)

So those were my two big presents.  We also got an awesome TV finally (flat-screen, HD, all that stuff)-- we'd never actually bought a TV, but had been on our 5th free one, so this was a big deal for us.  (Lots of thanks to my wonderful in-laws for their generosity!!!)  But this was definitely more of a present for Craig, the film snob, than for me, who is still quite happy watching movies on VHS. 

In any case, we were both very happy with our Christmas presents.

And now, I can start deleting pictures off the blog posts and making room for new ones!  So if you want to take one last look at all the pictures from 2011 and 2012 (but honestly, you probably don't), get cracking because they're disappearing soon!  And be prepared for an onslaught of new pictures!!!

Small Change

Hey, all!  So I just wanted to explain one minor change I've made to this blog.  A while ago when (I think?) google bought out blogger, it somehow changed so that I didn't get any email notification when people left comments!  This means that I have, occasionally, been known to sit reloading my own blog in case there were comments that I wasn't seeing.  Which is a little on the pathetic side, I have to admit. 

So in order to not do that, I've given myself the power to moderate comments.  Which is totally unnecessary, because none of you has ever left comments that needed any censoring on my part.  You guys are great commenters! 

But hopefully this way I can get back to receiving an email if someone leaves a comment, rather than having to hit the re-load button.  Then I won't have to feel so lame, which would be nice.



Soon up-- the full report on Christmas!

Someone is Lying to Me

You know how those parenting magazines are always telling you to let your toddler help you out around the house?  "Little kids love to help out!" they'll gush, followed up by some testimonial of how some parent rewards their child for doing these chores and everyone is just so happy and pleased with the whole situation.

It's not that they're wrong-- Ryder LOVES to help me fold laundry.  If your definition of "help me fold" is "jump on everything and/or throw it on the floor."  He also loves to help me empty the dishwasher.  This usually just means he hands everything to me.  That wouldn't be too much of a problem except the first thing he grabs are usually the knives.  Or anything made of glass.  So it makes emptying the dishwasher feel like an Olympic race against disaster.  On the plus side, I can get the dishwasher emptied in about three minutes flat.  Possibly less, if I washed a lot of knives that time around.

That isn't the real problem, though.  The real problem is Ryder's perpetually snotty nose.  Which was rounded off nicely this week with a nasty cough.  And since toddlers pretty much love nothing more than rubbing at their snotty noses with their hands (and then wiping those hands anywhere that suits their fancy), the absolute last thing I want is him touching my clean dishes!

So I tend to not be very good about letting Ryder help me.

One of my many failings as a parent for which I am unapologetic. 

And now, I need to go try and wash snot off my throw pillows.

Ryder Talking

Ryder has lots to say.  But most of it isn't in any language that I can understand.  Right before his 2-year check up, Craig and I tried to count all his words.  And we couldn't make it to ten.  (His doctor has recommended he be evaluated for speech therapy.  My plan is to get around to that some time after Christmas...  Mostly I'm just hoping that by then Ryder will have blossomed into a talking fool and I won't have to bother at all.)

The funny thing is, for all that he doesn't say, the words he can say keep changing!  He used to just say, "Yah!"  (He sort of sounded German, actually.  Or possibly Russian?  Except with more joyous enthusiasm than I picture emanating from either of those cultures...)  Then it morphed into "Yep!" (still enthusiastic).  And now it's turned into "Yesh!"  So can I count those as three words?  My favorite was the other morning when I gave him his morning bottle of warm milk and tucked him back into his crib for a few more minutes of sleepy time.  I kissed his forehead, whispered, "I love you, Ryder," and he heartily responded, "Ah, yesh!"

Ah, yes, of course you love me, mommy!  I love the confidence.

Of course he can say Mommy and Daddy, although he likes to call me other things that I don't really understand, like I think he calls me Abba sometimes or something.  "Rara" can refer to Kendra or Bentley and I think possibly himself, too.  He also says doggy, although that sounds suspiciously like Daddy...  And seeing pretty much any grown man makes him miss Daddy and start yelling for him.  That, or else he has really bad vision, because he thinks pretty much every male cast member of Glee looks like Daddy...  Despite this limited vocabulary, he manages to express a lot.  My favorite is when he'll walk into a room, raise his hands up questioningly and wonder, "Daddeee...?"  It gets the message across just as well as a "Where is" would have!  He even would sing a song that consisted of crooning, "Momma, Dadda, Dadda, Momma."  And it was really sweet.

Just recently he added his first adjective to his vocabulary, and that word is: cool.

And it only applies to cars.  And only certain cars, at that.  He will empty my diaper bag searching for "Coo coo cars" and the ones that don't meet this criteria get tossed aside.

So now the Momma Dadda song has been replaced by a Coo Coo Car song.

Naturally.

He's also recently started adding "f" sounds to the ends of words.  So "car" has become "carf," which-- when you can't say "r's," just sounds like "cough."  And "no" has become "nofe."  I have no idea why.

I guess he's just figuring things out in that head of his.  Some day I'll hear all about it, I'm sure!  But in the meantime, I'm glad we have such cool cool cars for him to play with!

That Whole Pants Thing

I didn't hear about the feminist call to arms until CJane blogged about it.  And I will admit right here and now that I never bothered to read the original blog posts that got it all started.  Because I already knew that I wasn't interested in wearing pants to church-- partly because skirts are a LOT more comfortable in my pregnant state, but mostly because I don't think it's appropriate to stage a protest at church.  I go to church to worship.  And I go to see my friends and to do the things I'm asked to do-- teach lessons, herd children around, provide a musical number, or whatever.  I go so that I can strengthen my own testimony.  And partake of the sacrament and renew my covenants.

The way our church is run, wherein we believe that our leaders are called by God, I'm not sure that it's ever appropriate to stage a protest.  But if you do have problems with the church (and these problems don't mean that you simply stop going), I guess a more appropriate outlet would be to write to the leaders or something.  Wearing pants one Sunday is such a localized thing, I can't see how it would really accomplish anything.

So I didn't really agree with the pants protest (and admittedly, maybe reading the actual sources would have changed my mind, but I kind of doubt it).  And in light of Friday's tragedy, worrying about a Sunday dress code seemed beyond silly to me.  There are so many more serious problems in our world that we should be working to address than the issue of what we wear to church (especially in a church where the official statement on dress and grooming doesn't mention anything as specific as whether or not women should wear pants).

But I will admit that I really enjoyed reading many of the other blog posts that sprung up-- the discussion that this protest generated was fascinating to me, and a lot of posts really spoke to me.  So if you've been following the pants protest, here are my favorite contributions to the dialogue:

Heather, at Women in the Scriptures, wrote about how she would be wearing a skirt, but wouldn't be bothered by others wearing pants.  She then talked about how she had learned not to "shelve" issues she had, but rather to think of putting them on a stair, and she would strive to climb to that point where she had reached understanding.  Beautiful.  I sometimes worry that I'm a little too good at putting things on the shelf and forgetting about them.  Using issues to find things to study and pray about and ultimately strengthen your testimony is a much better way of dealing with the questions we will all inevitably have about religion.

Jessie, at Bloggity-Blog, had my favorite list of points both for and against the pants thing.  I pretty much agreed with everything she said.  And she's funny, too, so bonus points for that!

And then Brandon went and summed up all the feelings about Book of Mormon Girl that I hadn't bothered to acknowledge to myself and in the same blog post, linked the single best explanation of Mormon Feminism that I have EVER read.  Honestly, it blew me away.  If you only click on one link in this whole post, choose that last one.  I think I need to read it again, it was so rich in doctrine.


So, yeah, to sum up: I didn't particularly agree with Pants Day, but I did enjoy the discussion it engendered. 

(See what I did there?)

Visiting Santa

For the second year now, our ward Christmas party didn't include Santa coming. Last year I understood how it didn't mesh with the theme of "Breakfast in Jerusalem" very well. But I have no idea why he wasn't here this time-- we have a guy with a great Santa suit who LOVES being Santa, so for crying out loud why are we not making good use of this??? (And for anyone out there arguing that we ought to be focusing on Jesus, I say that there's plenty of room in a kid's heart for ALL of that magic. And a Bah Humbug to you for even suggesting it!)

Anyway. This left us trying to find our own way to get the kids to visit Santa. Which is tough since I despise the local mall and don't want to pay a fortune for a portrait there.  Fortunately, just like last year, a good friend came through for me! This time it was Sarah, who told me that they had a lovely Santa set-up at the Merrifield Nursery nearby AND it was free AND, she said, the Santa was AWESOME. And she was right. We had to wait a little while to see the Big Guy, but that was because he sat and chatted with the kids for a good ten minutes before they bothered to snap any pictures. And it's a good thing he did, because that time breaking the ice was the only reason that Bentley and Ryder were willing to step foot near him.

He was a real pro, though.  When Kendra announced that she wanted a horse for Christmas (!!!), he looked at her seriously and asked if we had a barn for a horse.  She told him it could stay in the house or possibly our shed, but he insisted that those weren't very good options for a horse.  Thank you, Santa.  He smiled at Bentley's suggestion that what Ryder needed was something to put in his mouth that would make him be able to talk.  And when he asked if the kids were getting along and I gave them the sideways glance, he told them that it made Mommy, Santa, and God sad when they were fighting.  They nodded seriously and promised to do better.

All of you in Manassas-- go check out Merrifield Nursery (off of Wellington Road)!  It's definitely worth the wait!

One of My Favorite Pictures

I'm working on sorting out the storage capacities of this blog. I deleted a few albums off my Picassa web account (now I just have to hope that our computer somehow gets destroyed, since they're only saved in one place), so for now I have a little more space. Enough to share this gem from the Thanksgiving Day parade:

Whether you like Sponge Bob or hate him, this is a totally creepy picture.  It looks like he's about to eat Kendra and me.

Which is kind of what makes it awesome.



Ten days until Christmas, and Craig and I just finished our shopping yesterday-- that extra week of November really helped us out!  I can't remember a time when we were so on top of things!

Merry merry Christmas, everyone!  (To be repeated in every blog post until the joyous day!)

Too True

Rebecca Smylie is one of several people who I have never met, but whose blog I follow.  I hope that doesn't make me creepy.  (One of my sisters knows her.  And a friend.  And I did a guest post on the blog she and a few other people used to write for called The Apron Stage.  So I feel like I ought to know her...  I'm not sure if that makes me more or less creepy, though...)  (Also, if by any chance you want to be creepy like me, her blog is linked on my sidebar over there on the left.)  Anyway, she just had her third child, and wrote the following on her blog:

"A couple of days after we brought him home I had this moment where I did a mental check to make sure I knew where all of my kids were. Jane in the bedroom. Adelaide in the living room. Levi Little in his chair. I felt my mind split in three directions and knew I would forever be that much more divided. I can actually feel my mind working slower. So there’s more love in our life, but also I’m dumber. (Come to think of it, that makes a lot of sense.)"


I love that paragraph.  A lot.  It sums up my life so perfectly: So much love.  But not a lot of brain power left over.

Every so often I'll pick up my master's thesis and flip through it.  This act invariably causes me to think to myself, "Wow, I used to know a lot of big words!"  Oh, well.  I'll re-learn them all some day...

Oof, Part II

As I was cleaning the house yesterday, I felt grumpy and stressed.  This isn't terribly unusual-- trying to get the house clean for a set time usually makes me a little grumpy and stressed.  But this felt more extreme than usual.  I mean, I was really annoyed with my life and feeling hard-done-by and way too busy and all that woe-is-me stuff.  It wasn't pretty. 

And then it hit me-- my week had looked like this:

Last Friday, I cleaned house in preparation for my in-laws coming (to celebrate Ryder's birthday).

Then the next day, Saturday, I did more cleaning and a deeper cleaning because my parents were coming.

And then Monday and Wednesday night I cleaned the house because I was hosting preschool the next day (and which required quite a bit of cleaning after the kids left).

And then I was back at it on Friday again, this time because my in-laws were coming to babysit so Craig and I could attend the temple.

And not that I enjoy living in squalor or anything, but that is a HECK of a lot of cleaning for me.  No wonder I was feeling like my life was hard (despite the birthday parties and date nights)!

So right now, I'm looking at the huge disaster of toys that exploded all over the downstairs and smiling to myself because today I do NOT CARE ONE BIT about that mess.  To heck with it all-- I'm going to do some blogging!

Oof.

Sorry I'm having a hard time blogging right now.  I find very few things more annoying than a private blog that never updates, so if you keep checking here and finding nothing new, I really do apologize.  Things have been-- and will continue to be-- a little insane around here.  This is my month to teach Kendra's preschool, and then add to that the usual business of taking care of three kids and getting us all to the various doctor/midwife appointments and all the church stuff I've got going on, and I'm feeling just a little bit stressed. 

But the real killer is that I have used up all my storage space, so blogger won't let me put up any more pictures.  After asking my facebook peeps what to do about that, I have some good ideas of how I can remedy the situation, but they all take a certain amount of time that I just don't have right now. So all those pictures I'm dying to show you of the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade?  Including an AWESOME one of Sponge Bob hovering above Kendra and I in a completely creepy manner?  On the back burner for now.  Hopefully around Christmas break I'll get it all sorted out (probably with some help from Craig). 

I'm not saying I won't be posting anything until then-- like I could keep my mouth shut for that long!-- I'm just saying the things I want to write about are just no fun without their accompanying pictures.

Bear with me-- it will all get worked out eventually!

The Decision

Last week, Craig and I finally made our decision and hired a midwife.

I can't tell you how excited I am about this.  As of today, I am 25 weeks pregnant, and I have spent most of that time worrying about how best to bring this baby into the world.  After three really lousy hospital experiences (all of which were bad for very different reasons), I'm calling a "three strikes, you're out" and throwing in the towel on hospitals.  I am planning to have a home birth. 

Now, I realize that lots of people think that people who give birth at home are crazy.  I understand that line of thinking because up until Kendra's accidental home birth, I totally agreed with it.  People would ask if I was going to have her at home and I would laugh at them and remind them that I wasn't insane.  Until she was born at home.  And I realized that that was the best experience (and BY FAR the easiest labor) I've had.  And until Ryder's birth was so awful.  And then I started to wonder if I wasn't the crazy one for even considering going back to a hospital when it just wasn't what I wanted for my baby's birth.

I started reading more and more about labor and birth.  I started reading birth blogs by other LDS women who felt strongly that Heavenly Father cared about how His children were born.  And it made me feel that it was in my baby's (and my) best interest to do everything I could to ensure that my care provider was someone I trusted, which, as I've said before, was impossible with the way my insurance works right now.  The more I learned and thought about all this, the greater my desire for a planned home birth became.  There are so many aspects of a hospital birth that I don't want and so many things about a birth that I do want.  And while the hospital tours here all emphasize that they want everything to go the way you want it to go, the reality is that this rarely happens, and you have to fight for it every step of the way-- a lot of the things they do happen before you even realize what's going on, you're just so busy being relieved that labor is over.  (I know of plenty of people who have had wonderful experiences in hospitals birthing their babies, so I don't mean this in ANY WAY to be critical of you if that's how it's worked for you-- this is all solely based on my own rather anecdotal BAD experiences.  So please don't take this as a criticism of people who are happy to go to the hospital!  Honestly, I sort of wish I could have that experience-- my life would be easier and this all would have been a lot cheaper had they worked out that way!)

But I need to fight for the labor I want.

And what I want is to labor as peacefully as possible, without people poking needles into my arms and wrists, smearing goop on my swollen tummy which then makes the hospital gown stick to me like some slimy, cheap sheet, and feels absolutely awful, only to further the uncomfortableness by strapping things around that same swollen stomach and yelling at me if I move.  I don't want some stranger that I just met that day sticking their fingers up inside me and then threatening me with procedures I don't want or need if I haven't dilated enough to satisfy them.

When it comes time to push, I don't want people screaming at me that I'm doing it wrong, that I shouldn't be doing it yet, that I have to lay down on my back, or anything else for that matter.  I want someone to encourage me and tell me I'm doing great.  I want someone to tell me that we can see his head and then to bask with me in what a miracle this all is that I am pushing a living human being out into the world to take his first breath.

And then, when that moment comes, I want to be handed my baby all naked and wiggly the moment he is born.  I don't want him washed, poked, prodded, and wrapped up before I even get to see him and hold him.  I want them to wait a bit before cutting the cord so he can get that last little bit of cord blood that might be beneficial to him.  I want to skip the Hep-A vaccine, since he won't be at risk for that anywhere that I will be taking him.  (We'll do it later, when he's a little older and his immune system has had some time to mature.  I'm not anti-vaccinations, I'm just pro-waiting on vaccinations.)  I don't want his eyes smeared with ointment to protect him from chlamydia, because it turns out that I don't have-- have NEVER had-- any STDs (one of the many perks to following the rules of my church, it turns out!)-- I want my baby to be able to look around and see his mommy and daddy this first hour of his life.  I used to be grossed out by the idea of being handed a baby still covered in amniotic fluid, vernix, and who-knows-what-else, but I've done it enough times now to understand that I'm pretty gross by the end of labor, too.  So who cares if we're a bit messy together?  We'll both get baths in a bit, and that will be just fine.

I want to be in my home where I feel safe and secure and loved.  I want my other children close by, not separated from me for several scary days while they try to process this new addition to the family without their mommy nearby to help.  I want them to meet their baby brother right away and also feel the specialness of new life.

I understand things don't always go as planned.  Maybe something will happen that will force me back to the hospital for the good of my baby.  Maybe my midwife will turn out to be as mean as the doctors.  But I am trying to do everything within my power to make this into the experience I dream it can be.  And for now, that's everything I can do.

This Is Why We Don't Try to Have Meaningful Discussions Before 9am

I'm a little bit on the bipolar side in the morning.  If it's a sleep-in day for me, all Craig can really expect from me as he leaves for work is a grunted "I love you." And I figure that's being pretty generous.  But.  If it's a morning where I get up early and go walking with Vangie, then Craig gets me all wide awake and chatty.  I might even cross over into bubbly and perky.  He's not really sure which version of me is harder to deal with at 6:30 in the morning.

This morning was a walking day, and a day where I'm excited for our trip this afternoon, so I popped out of the shower filled with energy, which manifested itself in the absolutely need to talk about Glee with him.  Our conversation went something like this:


Me: I don't like the new character Kitty.  I mean, she's supposed to be all Christian mean girl-- which is already a cliche that bugs me-- but then she's like some sort of hybrid of Quinn and Santana, but she's not pretty or funny or anything.  I mean, why would anyone like her?

Craig: I don't know...  I mean, isn't that sort of the point?  She thinks she's all that but NO ONE really likes her, not even her lover.  That's what makes her funny.

(I'll admit that at this point I was kind of surprised.  Craig doesn't even like Glee, he mostly just tolerates it to humor me.  So really?  He's defending one of its lamest characters ever?)

Me, persisting: But she's not even pretty!  When TV characters are supposed to be pretty and aren't, that kind of offends me!

Craig: Yeah, but she's still really funny!

Me: You think she's funny?  Really?  I don't think she's all that funny...  Not like Sue Sylvester is...

Craig: Oh, come on.  How many times have we quoted her line, "And say good-bye to these, 'cuz it's the last time you'll see them!"?

And THAT'S when I realized that Craig was talking about Kitty from Arrested Development. 

Arrested Development Kitty

Glee Kitty

 Who is also not particularly pretty.  But is DANG funny.  And quotable.  And a great character for a TV show to have.

And then we laughed about the mix-up.  And then we breathed a sigh of relief that our marriage wasn't in trouble after all.  Craig was starting to worry that if we couldn't agree on the awesomeness of Arrested Development, what could we possibly have left?  Because I mean, if you can't agree on the basics like this, where do you go from there?

Our 2nd New York 2012 Trip

Today is the calm before the storm day for me.  Not in the literal sense-- no more Sandys coming this way, that I've heard of.  But in the sense that I don't have much to do today, but then tomorrow I'll be grocery shopping, washing and folding laundry, packing, and then we're driving up to New York to spend Thanksgiving with the Manhattan contingent of the Bentley clan.

And I am so excited!!!

I know the trip is going to be exhausting and fattening and then more exhausting, but I'm pretty sure it's going to be DANG fun, too!  On the agenda so far is Craig making the turkey (with Brian as his sous chef), going to Inflation Eve of the Macy's parade and then the actual event the next day, the Shake Shack, getting chocolate mousse at some place (shoot-- I already forgot the name), and then cooking up a storm at Leah's new house.  I'm in charge of the mashed potatoes and I'm going to try out this stuffing recipe.  Craig, in addition to the turkey (and more traditional stuffing), will be busy making spritz cookies, his other specialty.  And then everyone else is making a host of sides, desserts, and appetizers.  I'm bringing all three of my crockpots to help keep stuff warm.

It's gonna be awesome.

But even more exciting than all the food and the parade is the chance to see so many of my sisters again-- the only person we'll be missing is Natalie.  I haven't seen Eliot, one of my two two-year-old nephews, since July, so I'm excited to hear all the words he can say now and just get to know his budding personality.  (Leah informs me that he is anti-pants at the moment.  I wish I could be, too!)  And, Leah and Brian moved from the house they were renting to one that they own, so of course I'm excited to check out their new place.  And then there's the obvious "sit around and talk with everyone" time which is my absolute most favorite thing in the world to do.  I'm thankful that we have phones and can stay connected so easily, but nothing beats the four-sisters-plus-husbands conversations that can follow after eating way too much food and tucking the kids into bed.  Really, nothing does.

It's funny because I remember not really loving Thanksgiving when I was a kid.  I think most of the foods didn't really appeal to me and the whole thing just seemed like a lot of work for nothing that I liked.  I have definitely had a change of heart.  What could you possibly not love about this holiday?

Anyway, wish us safe driving and way too much eating in the days to come.  And a very happy Thanksgiving to you!

A Nice Slice of Humble Pie

Okay, I'll just admit it: I've been feeling pretty good about how I look right now in this pregnancy.  Sure, I've got the tummy thing going.  But it really looks like a pregnant tummy and not like a "boy, that girl must have eaten a big lunch" tummy.  And I'm not to the point where random fast food people want to tell me that I look like I'm about to pop or (personal favorite), that in a few weeks time I will really "have a shelf."  (Yup, some woman said that.  And then she told me that I should have just bought a doll instead.  Now where was she with the great advice 8 months earlier???)

So, yeah.  Maybe I've been a little too proud of myself.  When the doctor commented that my weight gain of 13 lbs was "not bad" I actually corrected him and pointed out that, for a woman who averages 50 pounds per pregnancy, putting on 13 pounds in half the time was dang good, thank you very much.  He quickly corrected himself and said I was doing great.  Smart man.

But in the last two days, I have had two people ask me-- as they're telling me how great I look!-- if I'm due in January.  Um, no, I'm due in March.  Two months later.  I'm only at 23 weeks.  I'm not even close to being into my third trimester yet.

Which leads me to wonder if I'm not doing quite as well as I thought...  And then I have to cheer myself up by eating cookies and cupcakes and chocolate cheerios.  Probably not the *best* way to remedy the situation.

Ah, well.  Tomorrow I'll be good.  Really, really good.  Nothing but fruits and vegetables.

Riiiiiiiight...

Really?

Here are some reasons I've heard that people have voted for Obama:

-Because Mitt Romney was going to not let her kids go to school (this from a Hispanic woman)

-Because Mitt Romney wouldn't let girls who'd been raped have an abortion

-Because Bill Clinton gave a really good speech at the Democratic National Convention

-Because it's only fair to let Obama finish up the year, and then Romney can take over in January after all the Hurricane Sandy stuff is done with

-Because Mitt Romney wasn't going to let women use birth control

-And my favorite, from the comments section of some article in Slate, "Never trust a latter day snake."


Yup.  Those are some good ones.  Because I know all my readers are smart, I won't bother refuting any of these-- honestly, it would be too easy.

But I will quote my Dad: "What really bothers me here is that that guy's vote counts the same as mine."

Really, America?

The Anonymous Driver

I pealed my Romney sticker off the back of my car yesterday.  Whether he won or lost, I'd been looking forward to doing this as soon as the election was over.  As strong as my political beliefs are, I'm not comfortable wearing them on my sleeve (or, well, on my car, I guess).  I worry that my car will get keyed for these beliefs.  Or that people will drive more aggressively around me.  I also worry that if I make a mistake-- cut someone off or just do something stupid-- that people will judge me and/or my political party for that.  (Four years ago, it seemed that every slow car I ever got stuck behind was sporting an Obama sticker.  And it drove me nuts.  And yes, I was probably overly judgmental of these slow-driving liberals blocking my way!)

So I'm glad my mini-van will be a little more anonymous again.  I still have a couple stickers on it-- one that says "NAM" from when I was in Namibia.  I'm guessing that most people who read it will think it refers to Vietnam, but I can't help it if no one has heard of Namibia.  And my magnet from Japan that signifies that I am a new driver, and should therefore be treated nicely.  No one understands that one, either, but it still makes me smile whenever I notice it. 

I was also relieved to take down the Romney sign in our front yard.  When we first put it up, I worried that someone would throw a rock through our window or something.  Nothing of the sort EVER happened.  But I worried.  And having it there in plain sight was probably the only reason on Halloween that I gave candy to teenagers who weren't wearing costumes.  (Geeeez, they annoy me.  I mean-- if you're willing to put on a costume, I'm happy to give you some candy, but if you're too lazy to even bother with a costume, I don't think you deserve any candy.)

It's sad to me to think that I worried so much about it all.  Is our country so divided that I had good reason to worry? 

And yes, I'll admit, I have been very sad that Romney lost.  Partly because I think his business savvy would have been really good for our country and all its debt problems.  But perhaps even more so just because I think he is a genuinely good person.  I'm sad that so many of our citizens apparently couldn't see that.  And why 13 million less people voted than four years ago is a complete and utter mystery to me.  (A sad mystery.)


But at least I can go back to not advertising my political beliefs on my car.  It doesn't make up for things, but it is a relief.

Antsy

I have been getting so keyed up about the upcoming election.  So it was really nice to read this blog post from Middle-aged Mormon Man to help me keep things in perspective. 

So now I'm trying to remind myself:  It's okay for people to disagree with me.  {Breathe.}  No matter what happens, everything will still be okay.  {Breathe.}  I love my neighbors no matter how ill-informed I think they might be (and I keep in mind that they surely think I'm the one who's ill-informed).   {Breathe.}  There are more important things than politics.  {Breathe.}

Only another couple of days of this.  {Breathe.}  I can survive.  {Breeeeeeeathe.}


Don't forget to get out there and vote, everyone!  (Yes, even if you're voting for the other guy-- I still want you to exercise your civic duty!)

Getting Ready for Winter

As I was planning my menu for the week, it suddenly hit me that I was craving casseroles.  You know the ones I mean?  The ones that always use at least one can of cream of something soup, and you have to cook all the ingredients individually, and then put them all together and cook the whole thing again?  And they're kind of a pain to make, but the one upshot is that they always have to be in the oven just long enough for you to get all the dishes cleaned up and the table set so you get to sit down to dinner with a clean kitchen.  (Which is pretty awesome if you think about it.)

Yeah.  Those casseroles.

Wow, they sound good to me.  I just found a bunch of them listed in a word doc I created a few years ago, and I'm having a hard time deciding which one to make first. 

And soup-- ooh, I want lots and lots of creamy soups!  My two favorites right now are Broccoli Cheddar and Potato and Chive.  I could slurp these all day.  And if I've managed to plan ahead and get bread bowls from Panera to serve them in, then my life is pretty much made.  (The added bonus is that Ryder actually likes my homemade soups!  What almost-two-year-old has a penchant for soup???)

I know none of this is health food.  But it just sounds so warm and cozy and comforting now that the cold weather has settled in!  Is that just nature and getting ready for winter?  Or am I just letting myself slip back into old, unhealthy habits?