Dinner for the Bargain Price of $1.10

My kids have a strict rule. They only touch food that is beige. Bread, chicken nuggets, rice, fries--that's about it. Sometimes, depending on their moods they'll go for something orange. But any other color is a struggle.

We've tried everything. Negotiations, bribes, threats, consequences, ultimatums--you name it. We have one hard, fast requirement--one bite of each offending item on your plate. Of course, with age E.R. is getting much better. But where it's now easier with him, it's 10X harder with A.M. Let's just say she's stubborn.

Yesterday something new came to me as my daughter was gearing up for the nightly battle of wills. I pulled out the dimes we use to pay our kids for extra jobs. Ten cents for one BIG bite was the going rate. Both of my children, without complaint, ate bite, after bite, after bite. No whining. No gnashing of teeth. No tears. No time outs. It was heavenly--except for that gnawing feeling of guilt that I had stepped over an invisible, ethical line.

I'm not saying this was great parenting. At this point, I'm going to settle with just being barely average.

Snow Day

When I was a kid I used to pray for a so much snow that they'd have to close school. Who didn't? It's every child's dream. With as much snow as we get in Utah you'd think I eventually got my wish. I cannot recollect a single time in my 13-year school career the schools closed because of snow.Today was a snow day. The first of many, everyone says. We did get a fair amount of snow, about six inches. Not sure why that warrants a closure. Apparently they take their snow very seriously.

And for a Kindergartener, a snow day is a death sentence. E.R. loves being at school more than he loves being home. His only consolation was that all the kids had to stay home too, so he wouldn't be missing out.

My idea of a perfect snow day is spending it in bed with a book. That's only going to happen if I declare a snow day, for myself, on a Saturday and leave everything else to R. Ever since I tried declaring a snow day last July, he won't buy it anymore.

While I shoveled us out of our driveway, the kids played in the snow. Oh how I miss our south-facing, short driveway in UT. I debated leaving the job for R., but I knew it would be dark when he got home. Besides he's working hard to build me a fabulous kitchen so it was the least I could do. (He's also making it up to me right now by doing the dishes. I'm going to expect a back massage too--it's a long driveway.)

A.M. had a hard time getting around. I couldn't quite tell if her troubles were due to the snow or the layers of snow gear she was sporting. E.R. patiently hauled her everywhere. He's such a good brother. Whenever she fell he'd help her back up. What a process. The pictures below don't really show to what effort it took for him to get her up and standing. I'm the mean mom who stood by laughing and taking pictures instead of giving the poor guy a break.

No Hablo Espanol

So I've been working on a our Christmas gift for R.'s brother and his family. It's a year's worth of FHE lessons and activities. It's 98% complete with just a few odds and ends to finish like the lesson on tithing I've been working on tonight. Thanks to images found in Google, I put together an activity of matching countries with pictures of their currency. I just finished printing the worksheets when R. asks if I seriously thought this was a Mexican peso:If you're a little slow like me, look closely at the man's face. Yah, I have a bit of re-printing to do.

My $1 Lesson

I stopped at the dollar store today with A.M. in search of a cheap plastic cup to house my toilet brush. Don't get me wrong, I like the dollar store and usually come away having spent twenty or so of those oh-so-cheap dollars. But today I was feeling particularly snotty and did not appreciate the mile-long line I had to stand in to buy my blasted cup.

Of course, all the while A.M. was asking for a treat. I only had a dollar in change for the cup and I told myself beforehand there would be no way I would be using my debit card to buy more stuff; so I told her no treats today. Surprisingly, she did not throw a fit but stood next to the candy the entire time, eyeing it so fondly.

When finally I got up to the check stand I turned to get A.M. away from the treats. (And I do mean "finally"--20 minutes. I know you're thinking no cup was worth that kind of wait. I was thinking that too. But by that time it was a matter of principle.) Behind me in line was a sweet lady who asked if she could give my daughter a dollar to buy a candy cane of M&M's. A.M. was thrilled. Here I was annoyed with all the people around me, and this woman treats both me and my daughter with thoughtfulness. I truly, truly was humbled.

Thank you and Merry Christmas good, kind, dollar store customer.

Santa Came To Town To Deliver...Food Storage

Saturday we dragged ourselves out of bed to take our kids to the glass museum to eat breakfast with Santa. R. and I debated whether we'd actually do it the night before. We treasure our "Saturday sleep-in" even though, since having children, it's been reduced to a few extra winks before the kids are begging for breakfast.

I took my camera, but left the memory card in the PC. Frustrating. But, I'm sure you get the picture--buffet style spread and the Jolly Old Elf, himself.

Kids make me laugh. See, I never actually "make" breakfast. Mornings are not my thing, that's why they invented cereal. And cereal is all they ever get. So you'd think when faced with real food like eggs, sausage and French toast my kids would be in heaven. Nope, they went for Kellogg's Corn Pops.

The event was better than expected. There was entertainment while we ate--a magic show and a guy singing silly songs like "Library Boogie" and "Garbage Monster"; which begs the question--what on earth do reading and recycling have to do with Christmas?

The kids had fun. A.M. was still talking about it at church today. We had fun too. It was worth giving up a bit of sleep.

The afternoon proved to be no less eventful. I went with some friends to the Church cannery. My first time. Again, no camera to document the all-day excursion, or the plastic aprons and hairnets we wore. But here's a look at a few of the 34 cans of food I brought home:The sad thing is what I did would sustain only one person for about a month. I have a lot more work to do.

While I was gone R. tore out the wall to the bathroom. We're moving it to make way for some pantry cupboards in the kitchen. I came home to this view from my kitchen:Imagine being able to "do your business" while keeping an eye on dinner at the same time. With that kind of convenience, I'm thinking we may not even replace the wall at all. (Yah, I know you're all laughing at the grandma wallpaper. And just for that, I'm keepin' it!)

Skadoosch!

One thing every small town in America has in common--an 80's-style, toaster-shaped Pizza Hut. And thanks to Reading Rewards at E.R.'s school we frequent ours. Tonight included. The kids were thrilled. I was thrilled not to have to cook.

(By the way, Reading Rewards was a genius idea--as long as kids can read, customers aren't going anywhere. R. even remembers getting them when he was a kid.)

Tonight was movie night at the school, featuring Kung Fu Panda. This was a great idea in theory, but in reality...imagine sitting, scrunched, on the cafeteria room floor for an hour and a half. For the kids--a blast. Lying on blankets. Loads of snacks. Sitting by classmates. Fun. For R. it's a different story. I think he genetically inherited the inability to sit Indian-style. For me, I tried to crouch the entire time to let the little girls behind me see.

This is actually the second time we've seen this movie less than comfortably. When it was in theaters we took the kids, for the first time, to the drive-in. Drive-ins definitely lose their luster with children--no more making out.

I'm honestly not complaining--we had a fun night together. I'm just thinking after awkwardly watching the same movie twice, R. and I should get extra points in heaven under the "wholesome recreational family activities" clause. (Or does that only count for water skiing?)

Retraction

Send your own ElfYourself eCards

I know I tried your patience with the diving video, but here's another one. Actually, I'm trying to get the heat off poor R. You see, A.M. has asked (begged, more like) to watch her dad about fifty times today. Every time R.'s body double reaches the diving platform she squeals, "there's Daddy, there's Daddy." And she refers to the speedo as, "Daddy's red panties." In an effort to be funny, I've given my daughter a warped sense of reality.

I don't know if this video is much better. Even though these elves are supposed to be gender nonspecific there are times R. is, without a doubt, a woman. My daughter's going to be so screwed up.

Merry Christmas!

Eat Your Heart Out...Phelps

Try JibJab Sendables® eCards today!

Some have said there is a shocking lack of posts about my husband. Well, a few months back we decided to keep this to ourselves because we didn't want to brag; but, I feel I must defend myself on why I have kept his many accomplishments out of our blog. So, I'm sorry if this makes any of you feel your husband is less than adequate!

All joking aside, my ever-increasingly talented husband has done something far better than bringing home the gold. He has added lights to the majority of the rooms that had been originally intended to only be lamp-lit. This house isn't some shack in the woods, or an igloo; so what were they thinking when they built it? Seriously, lamp-lit? Awful. Not anymore! Thank you, thank you, Honey!

PS--You've never looked sexier in a red speedo. Hubba! Hubba!

PSS--The kids couldn't wait to unveil this post to R. when he came home. As they watched together, A.M. excitedly declared, "You have panties Dad!" I think I'm in trouble.

Happy Thanksgiving

We had a GREAT Thanksgiving. We hope you all did too.

While I was baking, R. got the kids ready. E.R. came into the kitchen to tell me, quite triumphantly, that Dad had let him do his own hair. A few minutes later he came back with a self-made tag taped to the front of his shirt using a dozen pieces of tape. His tag read: "I can fix my hair".

This started a flurry of tag making--one for each of us.

Dad's read: "Dad is a vairy good frend"
Mine read: "Mom can be hlepfull"
A.M's read: "A.M. is vairy cutdt (cute)"

He didn't stop with us. Labels began to appear all around the house.









Signs are everywhere--on fixtures, shoes, windows, stairs, etc. My favorite is the computer marked "cunpwoder". While E.R. was busy making sure we knew the contents of our house and using all the tape, I made this:

And it turned out just about perfect!

We had dinner with our new friends the Wilcoxes. We were, however, just about dis-invited to Thanksgiving dinner because the Wilcoxes are BYU fans and did not appreciate how we weaved a bit of gloating into our Sacrament Meeting talks last Sunday. (The rivalry is alive and well, even in NY.)

We had a wonderful time. We have so much to be grateful for this year, and every year. We have incredible kids, a great family whom we missed, and fantastic friends both near and far. We are so blessed! We love you and wish you a warm and happy holiday!

Wonder Update

The night before Thanksgiving, I cut a bunch of the white bread E.R. thinks is so amazing into cubes for stuffing, and left them on the counter to dry out. The next morning, R. went off to play football with some guys in the ward while I snuggled in bed with a book. My mom called and I kinda forgot about the kids.

Without a responsible parent to get them breakfast, they decided to fend for themselves. I came down to find nearly all my stuffing cubes gobbled up! They really do like white bread--they're even willing to eat it dry and tasteless.

Wonder Wonder

The other day E.R. asked why we don't eat white bread. I explained that wheat bread is a little better for you. (Actually, I prefer the taste of wheat bread; and since I'm the one buyin' it...) "Well, Steven at school eats white bread and it's good for him." He argued.

I wanted to try a wheat/white bread mix in the Thanksgiving stuffing, so I purchased some white bread. E.R. was literally overjoyed. You've thought I'd brought home a puppy.

Earlier this afternoon E.R. turned to his dad and said, "We got white bread, Dad. Do you know what white bread is?"

Without waiting for his answer, E.R. pulled a piece of bread out of the bag, "See, this is white bread. Because it's white in the middle. See. See."

"As opposed to wheat bread that's brown in the middle?" R. asked.

Pleased he'd been able to teach R. a thing or two, he answered excitedly, "Yah! That's right, Dad!"
So, Happy Thanksgiving to all of you, no matter what kind of bread you've used in your stuffing!

Precocious. Huh?

When E.R. was a toddler Grandma B. called him "precocious". I tried to smile and agree thinking she'd just criticized my child. And for what? I didn't know. He wasn't doing anything particularly obnoxious at the time.

Later, I looked the word up in the dictionary. "Precocious" means "bright"--something, apparently, I am not. Despite his mother's less than stellar aptitudes, E.R. has lived up to Grandma B.'s assessment.

He loves school. Last week he woke up vomiting. I told him he would need to stay home from school. He broke down into sobs. He was sure he'd miss a fun project if he stayed home, he said.

He loves to write notes to family and friends. Most of these letters consist of some sort of paper creation. I have snipets of paper all over my house as he cuts and pastes his latest projects. Lately, he's taken to making Ben 10 watches--remarkable copies, really. We've each, generously, received many prototypes. I went to bed the other night thinking there was something strange about my pajama sleeve only to discover I hadn't removed his latest model. Shhh...Santa found a real Ben 10 watch on Amazon.

He's also extremely loving and a great big brother. He left a lot of friends behind when we moved. Friends he misses very much. He doesn't seem to mind letting A.M. fill in the gaps, even though she's only two.

I get too impatient too often with him. I'm writing this to remind myself how great I've got it when I feel myself losing my cool. I really love this kid!

Dad's Back

R. is home again. Thank goodness! His business trips in the past have never really bothered me. This one did. It was long, and I feel a little uncomfortable not knowing very many people yet. My imagination sometimes runs wild, and it doesn't help that it starts getting dark at 4:30. Thanks to all of you who talked to me and kept my mind occupied on more pleasant things.

Don't worry, all that foolishness quickly melted away with one of these delightful Japanese treats! E.R., A.M. and I were so excited R. did not disappoint and had one for each of us in his luggage. (Even though you can buy them at Wal-mart in the Asian section. They just aren't the same!)

I Love My "Grill"

Today the electrician came to upgrade our electrical box. For a good portion of the day we were without power. Without Dora the Explorer to occupy A.M. while I checked on all your blogs, she and I spent the day entertaining each other. By mid afternoon we'd blown through play dough, dollies and Hi-Ho Cheerio; so we sang silly songs while snuggled under blankets because, man, it got cold!

The thing I love about this 2-year-old is her creative vocabulary. She says things with such confidence; and when corrected, she looks at me as if I'm the one saying everything wrong. Some of my favorite A.M. words:

"laugha-bet" = alphabet
"toad-a-wee" = totally

"Mom, this is toad-a wee, toad-a-wee, toad-a-wee yummy!" That's when I know I hit the mark with dinner--3 "toad-a-wees"

"squish-squeeze treats" = rice krispy treats
"grill" = girl
"clickly" = quickly

And my personal favorite:

"sh#@!" = ship

Lately, this word is used quite frequently because she is toad-a-wee, toad-a-wee into Buzz Lightyear (as shown in the picture) and is constantly wandering around the house looking for his sh#@!

I had fun today A.M.!

Hot Chocolate in Shades

We woke up to our first real snowfall of the season. The photo was taken standing on our back deck. I told you we live in the woods. There's actually a layer of leaves under that snow that I should have raked this weekend. Oh well.

I think A.M. is already missing the warm, summer weather because this is how she ate her breakfast this morning.

A Holiday Worth Celebrating

Did you know there is something to be celebrated every single day of the year? Today is "Loosen Up, Lighten Up" day. Seriously!

I'm earnestly trying to celebrate because lightening up is something I normally struggle to do. I'm not going to be getting after E.R. for talking to me in his uncommonly loud voice when I'm standing right beside him. A.M. pees in her panties--so what! (Actually, we're accident free today! Yeah!) It's not even bothering me that R. ripped the walls off the family room, is leaving for Japan tomorrow morning, and going to be gone for a week. See, I'm loose.

What a great holiday. So far I'm having a fabulous day. Honestly! Plus, I'm thrilled to learn my birthday falls on "A Room of Your Own" day. What luck! I can't wait to tell R.!

To find holidays you'd like to celebrate look HERE. In fact, mark your FHE calendars--I've just learned Monday the 24th is "Celebrate Your Unique Talent" day. Now, that's a day not to be missed either!

Ziploc Omelets

Who doesn't love an omelet? Not me!

There are actually two things I don't love about omelets. First, my well-intentioned omelets never turn out the way I plan. They always have a great beginning and give every impression of ending up perfect. Then comes the flip where things go terribly wrong and I end up with fancy scrambled eggs. Still good, but not an omelet in every sense of the word. Secondly, made-to-order omelets must be cooked in shifts.

With these two grievances in mind, I received an email forward from R.s sister showing a fun and easy way to make omelets. Perhaps you've received this email. Well, tried it. Liked it. Have repeated it since. Thought I'd share:In a quart-size freezer Ziploc bag, combine 2 eggs (no more than 2 per bag) with favorite omelet ingredients. Shake 'em, squish 'em and mix 'em well. Get all the air out; then seal. Use multiple bags to make custom omelets for each family member just the way they like 'em!

(I could lie and say this picture was taken at breakfast and that's why my kids are in their pajamas. But in reality it was dinnertime. A.M. is still potty training--jammies are easier to pull down. E.R. stayed home sick from school. You know, on second thought, perhaps I should not have had him helping with dinner after all. Whoops.)Place bags in a large pot of rolling, boiling water. Our 4 bags cooked just fine in a medium-size soup pot. Let boil 15 minutes. (As the bags heat up, they get a bit floppy. Don't let them touch the sides of the pan or burner directly.)Open the bags and roll the omelets onto plates. No fuss, no mess--not bad! The kids can help too. Plus, one of us isn't still hungrily waiting for their omelet to cook.

Score One for the Team!

A.M.'s Potty Training Tally (day one):
Panties = 3
Potty = 5!!!

A decisive victory by any mother's standard.

A.M.'s been pretty accepting of the whole "big girl" potty idea as long as I don't slip up and call her panties (pronounced "pan-TEES" with a strong emphasis on the "TEE") anything but that. Underwear, pants, etc. will not due!

The best part of potty training--I didn't get out of my pajamas until 4pm. (Why bother when I'm planning on dealing with pee all day long.)

The worst part of potty training--everything else!

Primary Program

Today was the Primary program in Sacrament Meeting. I thought I would feel so content just sitting in the congregation instead of being the one responsible. I actually felt a little sad. When the Primary children sang their first song, I naturally started singing with them until I realized I was the only one on our pew. I miss the kids in our old ward.

I did enjoy seeing E.R.'s face when he gave his part instead of the back of his head like last year. He did a great job. That kid does not hesitate in the slightest when speaking in front of anyone. I wish his excitement for talking translated into a desire to sing. I think he managed to chime in on the last song, and that was about it. Instead we were the proud parents of the waving, yawning boy who occasionally wowed the congregation by balancing on one foot.

If E.R.'s talents weren't enough to impress our new ward, I'm sure once combined with A.M.'s uncanny knack for shrieking "Stop it!" over and over right at the most reverent part of the Sacrament prayer is enough to win them over.

Job Well Done!

Well, in less than a week, I've successfully managed to eat the majority of my kid's Halloween candy. With current issues such as childhood obesity, I tell myself I'm doing it for their own good; but we all know that's not true. (Disclaimer: the hand in the photo is not mine--it may as well be.)

No Stalking Allowed!

You may have noticed I've changed a few things. For those of you who are our family and friends, you are welcome to, hopefully, enjoy this blog; which is why I didn't want to restrict access. For those I don't know, I figure important information is on a need to know basis. Why the sudden paranoia? Well, I saw this:

http://www.ksl.com/index.php?nid=148&sid=4699330

I'm not trying to be ridiculous here, I just figured it couldn't hurt to keep things a little more anonymous. "Nelson" is a common enough last name. (If that really is our last name. :)) As for our first names, my smart and sexy husband will be referred to as R., our son is E.R., and our daughter is A.M. I hope you won't be too annoyed to keep reading! Lots of love, M.

*Spoiler Alert*...I Voted For...

I voted--thanks to a GPS otherwise I would never have found the place. Oh, how I miss a good grid system!

So have you ever seen a voting booth like this? Well, I hadn't. I felt like a bit of a moron for having to have the thing explained, but the ACME method of pushing various levers to cast my vote was way beyond me.

Boy, we really do live in a small town!

Daylight Savings and Moral Cleanliness?

So we're always late to church. Always. We were late when it was just the two of us and blamed it on late nights studying. We were late when we had babies and blamed it them. We were late when church was at 9am and blamed it on being too early. But, we were late when church started at 1pm too.

We decided to turn a new leaf with this move. Didn't happen. Until yesterday...

The morning started out as usual--the kids were extra slow, I couldn't find anything I wanted to wear, etc. We piled in the car knowing we would, yet again, be our usual five minutes late. Halfway to the church, I mentioned how embarrassed I am over our tardiness (knowing full well it's often my fault). R. groaned and said, "Well, you're in luck, we're early." Yep, we forgot to turn our clocks back.

Speaking of church...I'm the YW adviser for the beehives (12/13-year-olds). We have a good group of girls making the calling quite fun. Last week I introduced the lesson to the girls by telling them it was a very important topic and I was particularly excited to be teaching it.

Before I could even share the topic, one of the more clever girls said in mock disgust, "I sure hope it's not about the law of chastity. We already had that one. Talk about awkward!" I assured her I would be shaking in my boots if that were the topic so they were safe for another week.

Our House is Haunted!

I'll be honest, this new house of ours is a little scary. It mainly has to do with the fact that most of the rooms do not have adequate lighting. (A predicament we're correcting in the next couple of weeks.) This problem is compounded by the fact that I am a scardy cat! But after last night you won't blame me.

I stayed up later than R. Being alone, I found myself turning out the lights, running like a bandit up the stairs and climbing safely into our bed. I left our door open so that we could hear the kids in the night.

At 4 am. I was awakened by our door slowly, slowly creaking shut.

I laid in bed, heart pounding, wondering what to do--should I wake R. or should I open the door and accept my fate. I decided to man-up and check it out myself.

The low-lit hall was empty. A.M.'s and E.R.'s doors were open. (They had been shut when I went to bed.) A.M.'s room--empty.

It was in E.R.'s room where I found my ghost--sitting there looking at books in the dark while her brother lay sleeping, undisturbed. Curse the day A.M. learned to open her bedroom door!

So as it turns out, there was nothing to be afraid of--well, except, that is, for the frightening deposit my little banshee left in her diaper. I should have woke R. up after all!

Halloween

What a great day! The weather was fabulous. (Earlier in the week it had snowed, so we were worried.) R. took half the day off. E.R. had a school party and costume parade. We carved pumpkins and ate scones for dinner. Then came, of course, trick or treating.

The kids were just as excited to hand candy out at our door as they were to go out themselves. At the first doorbell E.R. exclaimed, "It's our first customer!"

We live on a small, secluded street and one might think it's not so great for trick or treating. On the contrary, the kids were given fistfuls of candy. After just a few houses their bags were full and we could call it a night. A.M. scored most of all. Her skunk costume was a HUGE hit. She really was cute. And E.R. made a great Optimus Prime. There was even a classmate dressed up as Bumblebee.

The only crisis of the night--one petrified 5-year-old after going through the haunted house at the ward party.

Bat-O-Lanterns

So we haven't done too much by way of celebrating Halloween. I haven't made it through the sea of boxes in the basement to get out even one decoration. Thanks to the Family Fun magazine (love it!) we did have some fun making bats. Painting is always a hit around here. (Well, I think A.M. enjoyed it--in between her shrieks her hands were dirty again.) Now these fun bats grace our kitchen window just in time for tomorrow.

By the way, notice the forced smiles on both of their faces. I can't get a normal looking picture! Before I can even take a good picture A.M. is insisting to see the results on the digital screen. And E.R.--Ugh, well at least he's not giving the usual "you make me miserable, Mom" look! The full advantages of digital photography seem to be lost on my two. When I was a kid, we had to wait six months for Mom to develop the pictures; then, inevitably, my eyes were closed.

Otters' Rules

My kids have a new favorite book thanks to the Scholastic book order (which I LOVE) from E.R.'s school. I only mention it because I overheard A.M. repeating parts while eating breakfast this morning. I had to laugh. I find this book hilarious. A "doo-dee-doo" singing rabbit finds a family of otters have moved in next door. How should he act? He wonders. Among other kindnesses, the rabbit decides he and the otters could share things such as books and treats. What does an otter read? You ask. Why "Harry Otter", of course. (A book SO popular it even appeals to the semi-aquatic, fish eating demographic; yet, I still haven't managed to sit down and read it. I'm the only one--I know. Even the otters have beat me out.)

Glass Pumpkins

This blog was not up and running a few weeks ago when our family visited the glass museum. I was downloading the pictures and wanted to write about the day anyway.

For those of you who don't know, R. is now a project engineer for a large glass production company. This area is well known for glass.

Next to his company's offices is a glass museum. We decided to check it out. We didn't make a thorough day of it given that the kids are not too interested in every glass sculpture. (Besides, I was a nervous wreck we'd get kicked out if my kids left one more set of handprints on the glass enclosures!) Everyone jokes that about the only place to take out-of-town guests is the glass museum, so I'm sure we will become very familiar soon enough. My favorite of our short visit was an exquisite, life-size glass dress. Gorgeous! Although not too practical for the every-day woman's wardrobe--too transparent!

What we did do, however, is schedule the kids to participate in glass blowing. During the month of October children can blow their own glass pumpkins. We knew the experience would be lost a bit on A.M. but that E.R. would enjoy it. He did not disappoint and asked a lot of questions, so many the young man teaching them couldn't help but laugh.

The kids were able to choose their own colors for their pumpkins. They both chose orange pumpkins with green stems--the first traditional pumpkins of the day according to the glass blowers. R. leaned over and whispered they must be subconsciously influenced by my need to have everything fit and conform. I emphatically stated I was, in no way, to blame for our children's choices in pumpkins. But honestly, who would NOT choose an orange pumpkin with a green stem!

E.R. blew his pumpkin first. He did great once he got the hang of it. A.M. lasted two surprisingly good puffs on the blower then she no longer wanted to wear the protective glasses. R. finished for her. The next day A.M. and I picked up their finished pumpkins. This is when A.M. decided she LOVED her pumpkin. She insisted on carrying it around all evening, with me following nervously behind to ensure it lasted the night. (We did pay for it, I wasn't about to see it broken on the floor!) What a fun Saturday afternoon.

Love to See the Temple

Yesterday was a RS trip to the Palmyra Temple. I was glad for the opportunity because R. and I have not been able to go since we've moved. Because the temple is a little less than 2 hours away, a trip together would be long and we have not yet found a babysitter for that kind of time.

The drive was so nice. We had great conversation. I feel like I'm starting to get to know people and that feels good.

The temple is situated next to the Sacred Grove. It was dark when we arrived so I was not able to see it in relation to the Grove; but, of course the bright, white temple was still absolutely beautiful.

I was so thankful to be at the temple. R. and I have recently received such a decided confirmation to the promptings we felt months ago in making this cross-country move that there was no other place I wanted to be just so I could show, in a small way, how grateful I am. I just wish R. could have been there.

However, he was somewhere just as important--attending a school party with E.R. and A.M. They ate pizza and learned to dance the Macarena and the Hokey Pokey. They had a wonderful time. (R. says "wonderful" may be stretching it, but the kids did have fun.) I wish I could have been two places at once.

My Son the Barn Owl

For the past few weeks now, E.R. has been trying to convince us that he is nocturnal--or as he puts it, "noc-terminal". He is sure he can see just as well at night as he can in the day. And this, he says, is the reason he does not have to go to bed. Last night I asked if he thought he would still be able to see if every single light were turned off. He said that wasn't a problem, he would always have his flashlight with him so he could still be noc-terminal. I can't fight his logic! Do you see the resemblance? Apparently, he does!

Cold Weather = Soup Success!

Some of you might be thinking it is a bit ambitious of me to already be posting a recipe when I'm such a blogging novice; but, yesterday I accomplished something new and I'm so proud!

I like to cook. There is one thing, however, I've never been very good at--making bread. Even when using a bread machine a perfect loaf of bread has always alluded me. I guess I'm too impatient to figure out how to work with finicky yeast. I've decided it's time to change.

Before I tried something more complicated like wheat bread, I decided to make my own bread bowls as I have not yet found some in the stores like I am used to in Utah. Yesterday was the perfect day to try--gloomy and rainy all day. I was craving hot soup. So I found this recipe:

http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/Italian-Bread-Bowls/Detail.aspx

Surprisingly they were very easy. The hard part would be to remember to make them ahead of time. They turned out perfect, if I do say so myself. The crust was thick and chewy just like a bread bowl should be. Score!

As for the soup--Broccoli and Cauliflower Chowder, recipe courtesy of our friends Krista and Dave. It's our favorite. (Well, R.'s and mine as our kids won't touch anything green, even if there's cheese!)

• 3 cups broccoli, chopped
• 2 cups cauliflower, chopped
• 1 cup onion, chopped
• 3 cups vegetable or chicken stock
• 1 cup frozen peas
• 3/4 cup butter
• 3/4 cup flour
• 1 quart half and half, or milk
• 1-2 cups grated cheese
• salt and pepper to taste

Cook vegetables (except peas) in stock until crisp-tender. In a saucepan, melt butter. Add flour; whisk until smooth. Add half and half; stir until thickened. Combine cream sauce with vegetables. Add peas. Heat through but do not boil. Stir in cheese.

Now with this under my belt, I'm ready for something more difficult. Any good bread recipes? Send them my way.

PS. For those of you with a more discerning eye--yes, that is a paper plate in the picture. We have not yet finished unpacking!

White Deer

While driving E.r. to school this morning, I saw something very rare in most parts of the world--a white deer. There on the side of the road, in our neighbor's yard, were two of them! From what I understand they are unique to this area. White deer are so rare that the Native Americans called them "ghosts" and believed they had mystical powers. I wish I had my camera. I wish E.R. had noticed them, but he didn't. Of course he asked all sorts of questions I couldn't answer. "Why are they white, Mom? Why are they rare? What does 'rare' mean? What are they doing in that yard?..." Nothing like a Kindergartener in the back seat to make you feel like you don't know anything. Hopefully, in the coming months we will find them in our yard as well so we can get our own photo. It's not out of the realm of possibility.