Fun in the Sun

With only the state of Nevada between us, it’s hard to believe that the weather in California can be so completely different from the weather in Utah. In California you can actually wear short sleeves to the park in December without getting frostbite.

Happy Winter

It is officially winter this week, which means that in 3 months it will officially be Spring 2007, which means that Utah is SO close to getting its very own Ikea.

I’m so excited, I can hardly stand it.

I Heart the Red Box

Here's why:

1. If your DVD is scratched and you can’t make it through the whole movie, just call and they’ll give you a refund.



2. If you unknowingly approach the Red Box before the last patron finished his/her session and the Red Box asks you to swipe your credit card, so you do, and then The Pink Panther pops out without giving you a choice, you can get a refund and watch The Pink Panther (or however much of it you can stand before turning off the TV) for free.



3. If you go to return your movie but the Red Box spits it back out, you don’t have to hurry and drive around looking for another Red Box before 7:00. They’ll give you a refund for the extra day and then you can just try again the next day.

Nasty Ingredients = Yummy Food

Yesterday I made a recipe called Cabbage Crunch Salad. It was made of shredded cabbage, green onions, toasted sesame seeds, crumpled up ramen noodles, and toasted almonds. Yuck, yuck, yuck, yuck, and yuck. Even though not a single one of those ingredients sounds yummy, the salad was so good!

It’s kind of like a tuna sandwich—who’s the jokester that thought it would be good to mix tuna, mayonnaise, and pickles? Talk about three nasty ingredients. But put them together and suddenly they’re yummy. How does that work?

Slumber Party

Last night felt exactly like living at home again. My sister slept over because we stayed up too late watching Pirates of the Caribbean, Part No Ending. One time I turned the air duster spray upside down and shot it at her leg and she started screaming like a little baby, “OUCH! That really hurt! And you’re ruining the ozone layer! Spiz’s kids aren’t going to have a place to live because you’re ruining the ozone layer!”

It was so rewarding…just like old times.

Slightly Delayed

Liam’s girlfriend, Maggie, taught him to sign a bunch of words. Now he can say “eat,” “more,” “milk,” “water,” “ball,” “dog,” “car,” “please,” etc. He can say whatever he wants as long as someone is looking at him. Even though he’s basically a baby genius as far as his ASL skills go, his English skills are technically delayed because the only word that he actually speaks is “hot.”

He says “hot” (only he pronounces it more like “hotsssss”) when he hears the microwave beep, when he goes near a fireplace, and when I blow on his food. It’s clear that he knows the literal meaning of the word “hot.”

Today I found out that he also knows another meaning of the word “hot.” I got him up from his nap and walked over to the mirror in the hallway to show him how sweet he looked with his drowsy eyes and his freshly matted-down hair. He took one look at himself in the mirror and exclaimed, “HOTSSSS.”

Baby Wonderful

Most 15-month-old boys play with cars and balls. Liam plays with Mr. Wonderful. Forget the toys that honk and sing; he likes toys that say, “Why don’t you just relax and let me make dinner tonight?”


And when he can’t find Mr. Wonderful, Liam walks around doing the sign for baby, like he’s saying, “Help me find my baby—you know, the one who tells me I look beautiful in the morning.”

World's Best Boss

Ben’s boss, Craig, is pretty much the greatest man alive, and I’m not just saying that because he’s been known to read this website.

Ben’s company Christmas party was last weekend, and this is how it all went down: all 30 employees and their spouses checked into our fancy hotel rooms and then met up for a delicious fish and filet mignon dinner at 7:00. After dinner and a fun game of Play-do sculptionary, Craig announced that in the morning we would be meeting in the lobby at 7:30 and having breakfast at Costco.

“Costco?” you might ask. “What’s so great about Costco breakfast? And duh, they don’t even open until 9:30.”

He then went on to explain that each employee would receive $250 for each year of service (with a cap at $1,500—it’s a young company) and that we would be given 20 minutes to spend it at Costco. The three people to come closest to their dollar amount without going over would receive a $1/hr raise, a $ .50/hr raise, and a $ .25/hr raise, respectively. Anyone who went over their dollar amount would have a number taken out of a hat and would have to return the item corresponding to that number on his or her receipt. No calculators were allowed.

After 20 minutes of running around Costco by ourselves and millions of pages of hotel paper filled with old-school math problems like this:


And more importantly, like this:

We went home with an Xbox 360, a game for the Xbox, a color laser printer, new sheets, some sour candy, and a $1/hr raise for being within $ .08 of our goal.

They Paved Paradise and Put Up a Sweet Factory

Remember when Joni Mitchell said, “You don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone”?

I used to work with some of my best friends at Mrs. Field’s in the mall, and Mrs. Field’s happened to be right next to the Sweet Factory. Every few weeks on my way to work I would stop by and get some of my favorite kind of candy—sour strawberry belts.

Then I moved to Utah and immediately went into withdrawal. For the last 4 ½ years I’ve been trying to figure out how Ben and I could start a Sweet Factory franchise. Whenever I read about a new mall or shopping center being built, I get a craving for that sour strawberry flavor and I beg Ben to help me find some investors. Today I found out that there’s an easier, cheaper way to get my hands on those yummy belts.

Check it out—they sell them online!

I'm Dreaming of a White Thanksgiving

Every year we go with Ben’s family to Snowbird for Thanksgiving. This year I got overly excited about Liam playing in the snow for the first time, so I bought him the whole get-up: bib overalls with a matching coat, snow boots, gloves, and a hat. I had all kinds of cute pictures in my head of Liam playing in the snow.

Surprise—there’s no snow at Snowbird yet this year. All of my dreams of snowy photos were shattered because guess what stayed in the suitcase all week?

Controversial Radio Show

Salt Lake’s biggest controversy right now is a radio station called FM 100. They play Christmas music from Labor Day to the end of the year. Christmas enthusiasts love it, non-enthusiasts don’t, and non-enthusiasts who work with enthusiasts who stream it online during work really hate it.

I haven’t had an opinion about the Christmas music marathon because it hasn’t affected me until now. A few weeks ago I found out that FM 100 plays Church music on Sundays. A girl’s got to have something to listen to before The Bluegrass Express starts, so I made the controversial station into one of my presets. On Monday my car stereo was still set to 100.3, so Oh Holy Night was playing when I got in. Normally I would probably change the station, but I decided to give it a chance. Now it’s two days later and my car stereo hasn’t changed. Don’t tell Ben (he’s in the category of non-enthusiasts who work with enthusiasts who stream FM 100 online during work), but I’m totally becoming a fan of Christmas music before Thanksgiving.

In Case You Were Wondering Whether Decorating Stores Were as Cool as Sporting Goods Stores

Yesterday Liam threw up in the middle of Tai Pan. Other than the newborn spit-up thing, it was his first time and I was totally unprepared for the whole experience.

As I stood there staring at him, wondering what I should do next and whether it would require getting my new vest dirty, no less than 400 women came out of nowhere with wads of paper towels, mini packages of Kleenex, and wet wipes, saying, “We’ve all been there” and “Poor little guy” and “What a sweetheart.”

Say what you want about stereotyping, but I just don’t think I would have gotten that kind of help at Cabela’s.

Young Love

Last weekend Liam’s girlfriend Maggie came to visit. Maggie wears the pants in their relationship, and Liam likes it that way.

I kept overhearing Maggie say stuff like, “Hand over the truck and no one gets hurt.”

At first Liam tried reasoning with her, but Maggie made it very clear that she wasn't in the mood for his games.

And then inevitably, every 10 minutes or so, she karate chopped him in the neck or head butted him in the stomach, repeatedly finding some way to wrestle him to the ground.

Liam spent a good part of the weekend wearing a very scared look on his face, and even now if I come near him too quickly his mouth opens wide and his eyes start to close like he’s going to his happy place.

It’s very sweet to see how much he misses his girlfriend already.

Happy Halloween

If I Had a Nickel...

...for every time somebody asked me if Liam’s dad has red hair, I would be rich enough to buy at least two packs of Skittles. Is it really that uncommon for a brown-haired girl and a blond-haired boy to have a red-haired baby? I used to take the time to explain, “No, he’s blond, but three of Liam’s four great-grandmas have red hair, and I’ve heard that it’s pretty common for red hair to skip generations.” That got old pretty fast, though, and it turns out that no one really cares about the genetics involved in Liam’s hair color.

I decided to take matters into my own hands. Do you think people will stop asking questions now?

Real Ultimate Power

Would you believe me if I told you that Halloween is Ben’s least favorite holiday? It's true. Seriously, what’s not to love about playing dress-up and getting free candy?

This year I thought it would be fun to make Halloween 1% fun for Ben, so I did what any good wife would do and made him a ninja costume.

While researching ninjas on the Internet, I came across all kinds of useful information, including this gem. It's so great to finally know how to make a ninja mask out of a t-shirt.

Ripping Me Off 5 Cents at a Time

Why do I always buy the cheapest kind of onion and always get charged for the more expensive kind? And if it bugs me so much, why don’t I bring it up when the check-out lady types in the produce number? Probably because the difference between one onion at $ .44/lb and one onion at $ .77/lb is like 5 cents and not worth the time it takes to listen to my sad story, insert a key, void the old price, and enter the new price.

Yesterday I tried to work the system. I picked out a $ .77/lb onion and thought, “Ha HA! Maybe today they’ll charge me for the $ .44/lb kind, since they obviously can’t tell the difference.”

I watched hopefully as the check-out lady typed in the number, and then the amount popped up on the screen—$1.19/lb.

Unbelievable.

I Married a Whole Family of Nerds

Last night we had dinner with Ben’s extended family, and we were in charge of bringing dessert. We brought something called Six Layer Surprise. It's these cookie-ish bars with chocolate chips, coconut, walnuts, etc.

On our way home from dinner, Ben’s cousin Jason called to find out whether there was coconut in the dessert. Normally he gets a rash when he eats coconut, but he didn’t get one last night so he was wondering if he had outgrown his allergy.

Jason ended the phone call with, “Well, thanks for bringing the three factorial layer surprise.”

So clever…and yet, so nerdy.

Remember Highlights Magazine?

Try and guess what Liam's going to be for Halloween.

He Must Have Gotten His Father's Anti-Sand Gene

Last week my family got together for one last hoorah before one brother goes to Japan with the Navy for two years and another brother goes to Detroit on a Church mission for two years.

We spent the weekend at a beach house, and it was Liam’s first time at the beach. Guess how much he loved it?

The Benefits of Having Chubby Cheeks

Tonight we had taco soup for dinner and I gave Liam a few of the kidney beans. An hour later, as I was giving him a bottle before bed, he pushed the bottle out of his mouth and started cramming his fingers down his throat. I couldn’t figure out what was going on until he pulled the skins of two kidney beans out of his mouth. Not only did he save them in the side of his mouth for an hour, he even drank half a bottle without swallowing them.

My boy is so talented.

I Don't Even Think They Have a Hippo

Today I took Liam to the zoo for the second time in 10 days. The first time we donated $10 to the diabetes cure-finders and got free breakfast, lunch, a t-shirt, a tiny bit of exercise, a pass to the zoo, coupons, samples, and two pedometers. All for a $10 donation that I only made because my dad has diabetes and the guy next to me at the registration table was donating $4,000.

Today it cost $8 to get into the zoo and we didn’t get a single free thing. What a rip-off.

How to Dissuade Yourself from Becoming a Blogger

I got my favorite How to of the Day of all time today. Here’s the intro:

What a buzz all the bloggers are making these days! It seems like just about everybody is pouring their musings into a text box. Are you feeling tempted to start a blog of your own? Here are some ways to bypass the trend.

Check out the four easy steps you can take to dissuade yourself from becoming a blogger. Just make sure you don’t get sidetracked by the Related wikiHows: How to Start a Blog, How to Write a Famous Blog, or my personal favorite—How to Defeat a MySpace Addiction.

Bluegrass Fashion Sense

Do you ever wonder why hardcore bluegrass musicians look the way they do? Take a look at Sam Bush—one of the best mandolin players on the planet:


We went to see him play a couple weeks ago, and I swear his whole band was wearing the clothes my dad gave to Goodwill 10 years ago.

Do these guys spend so much time playing music that they don’t have time to go shopping? Or do they want to turn the rest of the world against bluegrass music so no one will think it’s cool, start practicing, and become better than them? I don’t get it.

Sam Bush played on The Tonight Show with Emmylou Harris on Friday—just one week after we saw him play in a baseball jersey and old jeans—and except for the diamond stud in his ear, he actually looked pretty normal.


So who’s he trying to fool?

And Then We Celebrated...

Baby Einstein style

One-Year-Olds Are Totally Rad

Liam turned 1 yesterday. You wouldn’t believe how much better having a 1-year-old is than having a 0-year-old.

I’ll admit it—it took me a few months to realize that being a mom was really great. It has always been well worth the reward, but I wouldn’t say it has always been fun. Now that I have a 1-year-old, motherhood is like a dream. I LOVE being a mom.

Liam sleeps 12+ hours every night, and another 3-4 hours during the day. Not that long ago he was still waking up during the night and taking wimpy little naps.

As of two weeks ago he drinks formula, and as of yesterday he drinks real milk, and that is possibly the most liberating feeling I’ve ever experienced. He is no longer dependant on me for his survival.

He entertains himself and he laughs when I tickle him and he is learning how to communicate his needs and wants. I LOVE having a 1-year-old.

Check out these mad communication skills he used last night when he opened his birthday present:

First he was all, "For me? Really?"



Then he was like, "Let me get a better look at this sweet ride."



Then he said, "Is it done yet, Daddy? Can I ride it yet?"



See? I wasn't kidding. One-year-olds are totally rad.

Things at Which I Do Not Excel, Part III

Leaving Comments

Some people leave clever, witty comments everywhere they go—on all of their friends’ blogs, on perfect strangers’ blogs, with spray paint on billboards, etc. Not me.

Comments totally intimidate me. What if I were to leave a comment on, say…Rebecca’s blog? First of all, 20,000 people could potentially read that comment and judge me for leaving a lame comment. And secondly, what if Rebecca’s Mom were to read that comment and then tell my mom about it? My mom already thinks blogging is for self-absorbed people. She might ground me or something.

But more than the intimidation factor, I struggle with a lack of talent. I sit around for days trying to think up something funny to say, but when something even 1% clever finally comes to mind, the post has been long forgotten.

I totally live for comments. It makes my day when somebody leaves one. So why am I so bad at leaving them?

Junior High Reunion

I met up with my best friends from 7th grade last week. It was pretty rad because remember how all of my old pictures look funny because I used to be 3 feet shorter than everyone?

Not anymore, suckas! I can wear big shoes now.

Jamaican Drill Team

All I’m saying is that if I were in a reggae band, I would be the flag waver.

Nerd Alert

WARNING: Only read this if you’ve already seen Superman Returns. Seriously, I might ruin it for you if you keep reading.

Ben and I finally saw the new Superman movie last weekend. I really liked it, except for one thing. Why is there confusion about who the father of Lois Lane’s son is if Lois’s relationships with Superman and Richard White didn’t overlap?

Ben didn’t enjoy the movie as much as I did, but he had no problem with the confusion regarding Jason’s father. Why? Because, duh…the gestation period for alien fetuses is obviously longer than nine months.

That's just the kind of stuff you learn when you go to a private school called Star Trek Sci Tech Academy.

Baby Names

My mom was in town visiting this past week, which made me lucky enough to overhear a great telephone conversation she had with a representative from her airline.

The guy asked for my mom’s frequent flyer number, and then asked for her code word to verify her identity.

My mom wasn’t totally sure what her code word was. She started out with, “Is it ‘Scuffy’?” When that one didn’t fly, she switched to, “Is it ‘Spiz’?” Bingo! When they told her that was it, she explained, “I knew it was either my dog or my grandchild.”

I just wish I could have heard what was going on in the airline dude’s head at that moment. I bet he decided right then and there to name his future child either Spiz or Scuffy. If somebody else could do it, why not him?

My Little All Star

Guess who finally fits into his itty bitty Chuck Taylors?

Things at Which I Do Not Excel, Part II

Removing Whatever I’m Storing in the Oven Before Preheating It

I got this habit from my mom of storing baked goods in the oven. It might have something to do with the fact that we had ants in California. Who knows? But for some reason whenever I make brownies, I feel the need to cover the uneaten portion with plastic wrap and store them in the oven. And then the next day when it’s time to preheat the oven to pop in a frozen pizza, I never look inside to make sure it’s empty. Never ever.

It’s not even like I cook brownies OR pizza that often. The probability of me using the oven two days in a row is super slim, but for some reason it always happens.

The first time it happened, I thought I learned my lesson. “Silly me,” I thought. “I’ll never make that mistake again.” And then I made that mistake again a week later. And then a week after that.

The third time it happened, I called Ben and said, “You’re not going to believe what I did.” Only instead of saying, “Dyed your hair purple?” or “Taught Liam how to read?” he said, “Turned on the oven while something was inside?”

The Type of Confession that Should Be Made Long Before Marriage

Remember those Choose Your Own Adventure books from elementary school, where you get to page 16 and have to decide whether to turn to page 24 to open the door in front of you or turn to page 35 to go around to the side window instead?

I totally loved those books. I thought was probably Choose Your Own Aventure’s biggest fan. But I found out last week that my husband was so much more devoted than I could have possibly dreamed.

The first time Ben read one of those books, he was blown away that people would consider themselves finished with a book when so many pages were left unread. He couldn’t possibly put the book down until he had found out what was on every single page.

He tried reading it from cover to cover, but it didn’t make sense that way.

So he grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil and kept track of each decision he made. Then he went back and reread the book several more times, choosing different scenarios and keeping track of each decision, until he had finished the entire thing.

And he used this same method on all of the Choose Your Own Adventure books he ever read.

Can you believe I only found this out last week?

Caught Red Handed

Things at Which I Do Not Excel, Part I

Cutting My Own Hair

And still I continue to do it. Every time. And without fail, I regret my decision every time. About once a year I even give myself bangs, and then I spend the rest of the year growing them out and wishing I had never cut them.

Last year I told Ben that if I ever threatened to cut bangs again, he should talk me out of it fast. So this year I had to come up with a long list of reasons why I needed bangs before Ben believed that I wouldn’t regret my decision.

I told him that I needed to cover up the silly little hairs that were growing in after a bunch fell out when Liam was born. Why did that happen, anyway?

Next I told him that my face was too long and too narrow at the top, and that bangs would make it seem shorter and less egg-shaped.

Then I told him that I just didn’t have enough bangs last time, and that’s why they looked funny. They were too thin.

Eventually Ben said, “Look, I don’t care what you do to your hair. I’m just saying what you told me to say.” So I gave myself bangs and guess what? I’m already regretting it. Luckily I cut about half my head into bangs this time, so it will look like a sweet mullet ALL YEAR LONG while it’s growing out.

What's Your Excuse?

I went boating with a bunch of people from Church on Wednesday, and we got stuck in a big storm out in the middle of the lake. My phone and other personal belongings were in a big waterproof bag on the seat next to me.

As tons of water started gushing into the boat in giant waves, I realized I had two choices: leave everything in my bag and hope my phone wouldn’t get wrecked, or take everything out and use the bag to start bailing water so the boat wouldn’t sink.

It took me a while, but I finally realized that keeping the boat afloat was probably a teensy bit more important than my cheap cell phone.

The good news is that after 24 hours of drying out, my phone works again. And also, the boat didn’t sink.

The bad news is that I should have been using that phone to vote for Allison.

Excuse Me, Flo?

Remember in Dumb and Dumber when Lloyd stands at the bar putting out the vibe while Harry puts in a good word to Mary "Samsonite" Swanson for him?

Liam totally puts out the vibe. He struts his stuff when he’s sitting in his stroller. He rests his foot on the snack tray and looks around like, “Heyyyyyy, ladies.”

The other day we went for a walk in the park and Liam was checking out all the hot women in their workout clothes.

We passed one guy who said, “Good morning,” and I answered with a “hi.” I think Liam had forgotten that I was there, because as soon as he heard me talk he whipped his head around to see who had said “hi.” He looked up through the little canopy window and stared at me like he couldn’t believe that his mother, of all people, had followed him to the park, and that now she was actually talking to people.

Seriously, how embarrassing.

And Don't Forget the Rubber Gloves

We don’t have a dishwasher, so we wash our dishes the old school way—with a soapy scrubbing tool and a quick rinse. It takes a total of 5 seconds per dish and we really don’t mind it.

Last week my grandma and my brother came to visit. My grandma had her own way of doing dishes, which required plugging both sides of the sink, filling one side with clean water and one side with soapy water, soaking the dishes for 3.472 minutes and then scrubbing them with a dish cloth, then transferring the dishes over to the clean water side (which became soapy and needed refilling after every 3 dishes), and finally draining both sides and rinsing each dish one last time. It seemed like a lot of extra work, but I know better than to challenge Grandma on something like washing dishes, so I went along with it.

One day while she was here, Grandma walked in on me washing dishes my own way. She wanted to help, but she couldn’t figure out which stage of the process I was in. She started to plug one side of the sink, then moved to the other before I told her that I normally wash dishes this way and it only takes a second…see? She observed for a while and then walked away bewildered.

The next day Grandma walked in on my brother washing dishes, and he happened to be washing them the same easy way that I use—the normal way. Completely surprised that he knew about the easy method, Grandma asked him, “Did your sister teach you to wash dishes that way?”

Pretty Boy

When I was pregnant with Liam, I made the mistake of telling my co-worker, Joseph, that I hadn’t taken the tags off my baby clothes yet because I was still hoping he might come out a girl. Joseph was appalled at my completely inappropriate and horrible thoughts. He told me I was a man-hater and that my baby would grow up hating himself, along with the rest of the male population.

I’d like to dedicate yesterday’s dress-up session to Joseph.

And a Happy 4th to You Too

Check me out—I’m Martha Stewart.

Happy Anniversary

The traditional 4th year wedding anniversary gifts are fruit and flowers. As much as I know Ben would love getting a boquet of fruit, I decided to be a little more romantic and get him a video game about killing people instead.

Who Do Those Johnsons Think They're Kidding?

Liam was born with a fair amount of hair on his head, and now he has a whole bunch more. When I got two big bottles of baby shampoo at a shower, I thought I had totally scored. I thought we wouldn't need to buy shampoo for at least a few months.

We've been washing Liam's hair three times a week for almost 10 months now, and we've only used 1/4 bottle of shampoo. Turns out babies don't use that much shampoo. I scored even more than I thought.

So now I'm wondering whose idea it was to package baby shampoo in giant bottles.

And that's only a 15-ounce bottle. Would you believe they make baby shampoo in 40-ounce bottles?

How to Be Scolded by the Dentist

Every day when I get on the Internet, I’m greeted with a “How To” of the Day. I don’t know who came up with this, but he/she is a genius.

Just in the last week I’ve learned how to help a friend who gets arrested in the middle of the night, how to make a lava lamp with household ingredients, and my personal favorite—how to make dreadlocks.

I had to try making dreadlocks, even though I would never be able to keep them in long enough to become the real thing. In fact, I knew I would only want them for a day or two, so I had to adjust the instructions a little.

I went to the dentist on the day of the dreadlocks. I thought it would be perfect because he would see my hair and say to himself, “No wonder she has so much plaque. Look at her hair!” And then maybe he wouldn’t get after me about flossing more regularly because, you know…dreadlocks.

As it turns out, the dentist doesn’t care so much about hairstyles. I still got the lecture. And to top it off, I still have nasty, waxy, ratty Medusa hair that won’t cooperate after three days, four washings, and numerous hours of serious pleading.

You Da Ho

We went to a family reunion in Idaho last week. Family reunions and the state of Idaho both get a bad rap, but I thought it was tons of fun. Check out all the cool stuff we did.

The Good
We drove by a sign that said Dubois.

We stayed in a cabin on this pretty lake.

We tie dyed.

We went 4-wheeling.

We played on the lake.

We canoed down a river.

The Bad
We capsized our canoe. Do you think Liam knew when I took this picture that in about 30 seconds our boat was going to fill up with water and flip over? Also, do you think his life jacket might have been a little snug?
The weird thing is that even before fearing for Liam’s life, my first thought was, “Bummer...I just took that cute picture and now the camera is getting soaked.”

Good news—the camera still works AND my baby made it out alive.

The Ugly
I got a sick red spot in my eye. What is that thing, anyway? Gross.

Punk Rock for Life

You just don’t see too many 27-year-olds with mohawks anymore, and 9-month-olds with mohawks are even harder to find. I’m really lucky because I live with one of each.

Kids These Days

The other day I yelled, “Liam, come here for a minute!” but he didn’t answer so I continued to yell, “Liam, get over here and clean your room!” He still didn’t answer me so I searched the house for him while yelling threats like, “You’re not going to get the car tonight, young man!” and “That’s it! You’re grounded!” Even with all of the threats, he still didn’t answer me.

I started to worry that something was wrong, but then I found him…chilling on the couch with his ear buds in, blasting his tunes.

In Loving Memory

Dear Laptop,

I realize that you were like 100 years old in computer years, and that when I found you on Craig’s List I knew you would be a short-term member of our family, but I just wasn’t prepared for how much it would hurt when you died this weekend.

I’ve spent more time with you in the last few months than I have with any other inanimate object. Except maybe my bed.

I was lying when I told you that I only needed you to play Liam’s favorite Baby Einstein DVD while we flew to California a few months ago and to give me Internet access while I worked from home for a few months. I have grown to depend on you, Laptop. I needed you for so much more. I still need you.

Please come back.

Sincerely,
Kim

A Little Too Ironic

Earlier today I poured cake batter into a silicone pan and stuck it in the oven. Two seconds later I remembered that I forgot to grease the pan, so I took it out of the oven and dumped the batter back into the mixing bowl. I actually turned the pan completely inside out and scraped every last inch of batter back into the bowl. That’s when I decided that silicone bakeware was the coolest invention ever—it flips inside out!

Two seconds after I finished marveling at its ability to flip inside out, I remembered my second favorite thing about silicone bakeware—it’s nonstick and doesn’t need to be greased.

Conquering the Provo Platinum

Every time the list of blogs on Provo Platinum gets longer, I feel like I’m getting older. With his rapidly-growing list of friends, it seems like I hardly even know Be anymore, even though he just came over last weekend and confirmed that he really hasn’t changed by attaching his belt to a tree in our backyard and then running to see if he could pull the stump out.

Sometimes he even removes links from the list, but still it continues to grow. What about those of us who are used to the old list—the one that had the White Skinned Goddess on it? Are we supposed to type in her address manually every time we want to see pictures of that Florida chick’s baby?

I’m kind of jealous that Bryant keeps making new friends while all of my friends keep moving away. And how come he always gets to date hot, smart girls even though he lives in his grandma’s basement and has a mullet?

His name has been shortened from Be to B, and I wonder if this new generation of Provo-ites even knows that his nickname came from Kobe Bryant.

I was starting to feel overwhelmed trying to keep up with the Provo Platinum scene, but then last night I decided to give it one more chance. And that’s when I realized that I know a lot more people on that list than I thought I did. Of the 38 blogs currently listed, I personally know 12 writers and have met at least 3 more. That’s not too bad, right? I mean, it’s still not even half, but it’s better than the 2 or 3 that I thought I knew.

Plus, I realized that some of the people I thought were strangers were actually people like Ben’s cousin Jason and Karen the hair-cutter. I bet most of the people on that list have never even met those guys. And what about people like my best friend Becca and the Daily Kirk? I’m pretty sure I know those guys even better than Bryant does.

So forget it, Provo Platinum. I refuse to be overwhelmed by you anymore. I can totally keep up with the list. You can’t break me!

Greediness Never Pays Off

A few weeks ago at Ben’s work party we played Deal or No Deal. It probably wasn’t quite as stressful as the TV version since our game stopped at $10,000 instead of $1,000,000, but it was still crazy to see how fast greediness took over people. One couple went home with only $150 because they couldn’t stop when there was still a tiny chance of making the big bucks.

Incidentally, the greed monster came to visit me last week. I told Ben not to get me anything for Mother’s Day because I wanted a pair of shoes and I wanted to pick them out myself. Then, without telling Ben, I also decided that I deserved a new CD for Mother’s Day—a CD that I had been talking about for a few weeks. So I bought myself the shoes and the CD and called myself an awesome mother.

But then Mother’s Day came. Apparently Ben thought I was even more awesome than I thought and that I deserved more than just the pair of shoes. He bought me Sam Bush concert tickets and also, remember that CD I had been talking about for a few weeks? The one that I bought myself without telling him? He downloaded it off iTunes and made a CD for me. Sweet, huh?

So now I have two copies of that CD and neither of them is returnable. And it’s not even the world’s greatest band. But the thing that gets me the most is that if I hadn’t been so greedy, I would have that CD for NOT the $22.98 we both spent on it, and NOT the $15.99 I spent on it, but the measly $6.99 Ben spent downloading it off iTunes.

Babies Are So Much Cooler than Puppies

If you’re trying to decide between getting a puppy or having a baby, I would highly recommend the baby. When your puppy is 10 years old, he’ll still poop on the lawn. But when your baby is 10 years old, he probably won’t. And even though you can teach your puppy to do fun tricks like sit or roll over, you can teach your baby to do even better tricks like dance or advertise Quiznos sandwiches.

You might argue that puppies are better because they can roll around under the coffee table and chew on your shoes. But guess what? Babies can do that too.

Only in Dreams

Last night I dreamed that I was shopping at a really nice art gallery wearing only my underwear. When I woke up a flood of emotions washed over me.

First there was relief that I wasn’t really wearing only my underwear in public.

Next there was nostalgia as I remembered my childhood dreams of showing up at school in only my underwear. Ahh, the good old days.

Finally there was confusion about why I thought I could decorate my house with art from an expensive gallery when in real life my house is decorated with shoddy crafts that I painted on the picnic table in the backyard. Only in my dreams…

Happy Birthday to Me

One of the cool things about marrying into Ben’s family is that you get what you want for your birthday. There’s no surprise about it—you make a list of what you want, maybe even pick stuff out or try it on, and that’s what you get. If a sibling asks what you want, you can tell him/her one specific thing and that’s all. You don’t even have to give choices to create a tiny element of surprise.

Growing up in my family, I rarely made lists or even gave suggestions. Birthdays were all about the surprise. Even if I had no need or desire for a purple sweatshirt with dolphins on the front, it became the coolest thing I had ever seen when I opened it on my birthday just because I wasn’t expecting it.

As much fun as it was to always wonder what the next birthday would bring, I was excited to adopt Ben’s birthday style and trade the surprise for getting exactly what I wanted. Sure it sounds greedy, but let’s be honest—my love can easily be bought with birthday presents.

Check out all the cool stuff Ben gave me this year:

A canvas and acrylic paints
One of these cool chopper things so I don't have to cry when I chop onions anymore
The Elizabethtown soundtrack
And he even surprised me with roses!

"Chocolate Covered Anchovies!"

Ben’s sister, Monica, has a baby two months younger than Liam. His name is Tyson and he looks exactly like Ben did when he was a baby.


Tyson is a lot more aware of his surroundings than Liam—especially new smells. Sometimes after Monica has just eaten something, she blows softly on Tyson’s face and then tells him what the smell is. She’ll blow and then say, “Mint!” or “Onions!” or “Cherry limade!” He inhales deeply and gets this excited look on his face like it’s Christmas morning.

Tonight after dinner Ben was playing with Liam in the family room. From the kitchen I heard an enormous burp, followed by, “Peaches!”