Music, for me, is an essential part of Christmas. It distills all that is good in the season: the glory of Christ's birth and life, the good feelings that exist at Christmas (though they're sometimes hard to find the rest of the year), the yearning for peace and happiness, and the beauty and simplicity of truth and pure faith. Some people can listen to Christmas music all year, but for me it would cheapen the effect. So the day after Thanksgiving, I break out our Christmas music and listen pretty much non-stop for the entire month of December.

This year Carter has gotten into the spirit of the music. He has alternated singing "Santa Claus is Coming to Town" and "Jingle Bells" at the top of his voice since mid-November...until I've wanted to rip my hair out and hide under a pillow. But one thing I am beyond pleased about is the fact that his new favorite song (i.e. his replacement for my Regina Spektor CD) is "Angels from the Realms of Glory" performed by MoTab and Sissel. We've been listening to it on repeat for about two weeks now. He likes the part about the shepherds.

Tonight we pulled into the garage and as I started to shut off the car, he said, "No, Mom. Let's finish the song." So we sat in the dark garage looking at the muffled calm of a fresh snowfall and listened to this gorgeous song. I know the words almost by heart now, but tonight in the car I really thought about them. What an amazing song of joy and praise and rejoicing! It really needs to be shared. So here is our favorite Christmas song this year, lyrics first and then the video of the performance. I hope you enjoy it.

Have a very merry Christmas!

"Angels, from the Realms of Glory"
Angels, from the realms of glory,
Wing your flight o'er all the earth;
Ye who sang Creation's story
Now proclaim Messiah's birth!
Gloria! In excelsis Deo.
Gloria! In excelsis Deo.

Shepherds in the field abiding
Watching o'er your flocks by night;
God with man is now residing,
Yonder shines the Infant Light.
Gloria! In excelsis Deo.
Gloria! In excelsis Deo.

Sages, leave your contemplations:
Brighter visions beam afar.
Seek the Great Desire of Nations:
Ye have seen His natal star.
Gloria! In excelsis Deo.
Gloria! In excelsis Deo.

Saints, before the altar bending,
Watching long in hope and fear:
Suddenly the Lord descending,
In His temple shall appear.

Though an Infant now we view Him,
He shall fill His Father's throne,
Gather all the nations to Him;
Ev'ry knee shall then bow down.
Gloria! In excelsis Deo.
Gloria! In excelsis Deo.
Gloria, Deo!

Buyer Beware.

I love my husband.

Even when he looks like this:



This is a sweater of Randy's own design, constructed in honor of his company Christmas party which was held earlier this week. He was on the organizing committee for the party and convinced his co-workers that the evening wouldn't be complete without an ugly Christmas sweater contest; and that naturally he should be an example and set the bar high for the other contestants.

He planned and schemed for weeks. WEEKS. I'm not exaggerating.



Here's the kicker: he planned all along to sell it on ebay when he was finished. That's right, my friends. You, too, can bid on this one-of-a-kind novelty Christmas sweater! It's as easy as clicking on this link.

It's the perfect gift for that special someone....who happens to be on the naughty list this year.

Eat your heart out, Stephenie Meyer.

Ah, the joys of.....

....the stomach flu.

Carter has it.

He was fine until we got to Hancock fabric. He kept saying he was tired, but it was his naptime so I didn't think anything of it.

Until I said to the nice girl behind the cutting counter, "I'd like two yards, please."

That's when I heard the wierd gurgling noise and looked down to see a large brown puddle spreading across the table.

And his coat.

And his shirt.

And his shoes.

And the floor.

And he's been puking steadily every hour or so without reprieve ever since, Sprite and Phenargen be damned.

And here's the thing: these are the days when, from the outside looking in, being a mom is so not fun. BUT--if you're the mom who's actually in the trenches, you have a totally different perspective.

I just want my little boy to feel better. I will wash all the sheets in the house, and bathe him as many times as necessary to make sure he is clean and comfortable. I will sacrifice my favorite throw-around quilt if having it around him means he will be comfy and warm. (It's washable, so who cares?) I will clean up puke over and over and over again, and I will do it without complaining. I just want to be there to rub his back while he's retching so that he knows I will do whatever it takes to make him feel better, even if it means I get hit in the process.

Would I do this for any other kid on the planet? Heck no. Okay, maybe. But I would not do it quite so willingly. He's MY kid, and I love him, and I will be there for him when he needs me, no matter what. And I am happy to do it, puke and all.

Gotta run. I hear another wave coming.

Hallelujah.

I didn't think it was possible for me to love Handel's "Messiah" any more...until I saw this.

I Quit.

I quit this job today.



This month is my last month as a journalist. For now.

A Good Week.

We had a fun week this week (despite the fact that it was deadline week....and I missed it by two days).

It all started with a snowfall. I love the fact that Carter is old enough to start doing grown-up things, like helping Randy shovel the driveway.







What a manly man.

Then we ate this.



Yummmmmmmmy.

Today, Carter and I took the time to get some serious finger painting done.



We painted some other things, too.



I saw this today, and it made me smile.



I find them at random times and in random designs all over the house. They're like crop circles....only they're made by a really cute four-year-old instead of creepy aliens who are trying to take over the earth.

I also got some Christmas shopping done today, and figured out what I'm doing for neighbor gifts. That alone puts me light years ahead of where I was this time last year. Yay me!

Brendan and Camryn are staying here this weekend, and Randy has the day off tomorrow, so Christmas decorating--here we come!

I love this time of year!

Best and Worst of Vegas (2009 Edition)

A little over eight years ago, my sweet husband and I left on our honeymoon to Las Vegas, NV. I had never been there before, so it was a new, delirious, and slightly overwhelming experience. I immediately fell in love with the excess of it all. For heaven's sake, where else can you go to see a castle, a pyramid, a volcano, and a lake full of pirates all in one spot? How do you not adore the fact that everyone from Liberace to Sinatra to Sigfried and Roy have taken a little piece of Vegas and made it theirs forever? How can you not rejoice in the 24-hour buffets??

Well, fast forward to 2009. Randy and I just spent a long weekend in Vegas to celebrate our anniversary. And let me tell you folks--Vegas has lost its mystery. We've been there a few times over the years, and each time I go it wears on me a little more. However, this trip did have some really really good moments, so without further ado, I present to you the highlights and lowlights of our whirlwind Vegas trip.

(I'll start with the worst so that we can end on a high note.)

THE WORST--

1--The usual: cigarette/cigar/marijuana smoke everywhere you go, the constant drinking and drunkards, and total disregard for the fact that some people prefer not to see pictures of boobs of all sizes, shapes, and colors on every possible flat surface on the strip. (Strip--an appropriate term, no?)

2--The buffet at the Flamingo. I know, I know, how can this come close to the ickiness of porn and cigarette smoke everywhere?! But you have to understand, it was highly disappointing. Even the desserts--THE DESSERTS!!--had no flavor. A word to the wise--go to the Luxor instead.

3--The broken window on the car and my waterlogged phone (I dropped it in the tub). That was a quick $400.

4--The $50 I lost on slots and roulette. Don't lecture me, ok? I had a feeling we would win big. Unfortunately, that feeling was hope, not intuition. But wow, I totally understand how you can get addicted to gaming. The rush of winning totally overpowers any rational instinct you may have.

5--Anthony Cools. He's a hypnotist we went to see. Only we didn't find out till mid-show that it was the R-rated version of his show. Yeah, he's funny. Yes, seeing people wear their underwear on the outside of their clothes is hilarious. However, the sexual suggestions and repeated use of the F-bomb made it hard to enjoy.

On the upside,

THE BEST--



1--My sweet husband Randy. He's had a hard time of it lately. Work and his business and finances have been stressing him out so much. So it was nice to take three whole days and just relax and spend them together. It was our first trip alone together since before Carter-man was born. Also, ever the one for surprises, he bought us two tickets to......




2--LOVE!! The Cirque du Soleil Beatles show!!! What a great guy, huh? He had promised to take me after I graduated, but I didn't think we'd be able to afford the tickets and told him we could do other stuff instead. However, he knows how much I ADORE the Beatles, so he got them anyway and didn't tell me until we were wandering through the Mirage and he said, "Here. We need to stand here." I asked him why we were standing in a random line with a bunch of random people and he said, "Because it's the Will Call line. I promised I'd take you to see the Beatles." I love that man!

If you go to Vegas, GO TO THIS SHOW. It was indescribable and one of a kind. I'm not ashamed to say I cried--twice.



Me, right after the show.



Some random woman who jumped into my shot. I had to post it because it was hilarious.

3--Being in Vegas without the kiddos. Yes, I felt guilty...a little. But when the two kids in front of us on the sidewalk escalator by the Bellagio hit the emergency stop button and all of us just about tumbled to our deaths, I was really really glad I was not their parents and eternally grateful that my own kids were not there to learn that trick.

4--Mental. This is a really great little show at O'Shea's casino. The guy can read your mind. No seriously, trust me. It was amazing. Randy's still trying to figure it all out.

5--The wierd, fabulous stuff you see in Vegas that you can't find anywhere else. Did you know that Batman, Elvis, and Edward Cullen hang out together? Well they do. I know because the three of them passed us in a crosswalk on the strip. They were probably headed over to Jimmy Buffet's Margaritaville to throw back a couple of shots together and dwell on their life experiences.

6--RELAXATION. Pure and simple. We slept in almost every morning and had nowhere to be and no one to see. That's the most sleep either one of us has gotten since about three years ago.

So all in all, despite the icky stuff, it was a pretty great trip. Happy Anniversary to us!

Adventures in Shopping.

Tonight, I had a meeting to attend in Cottonwood Heights, so I didn't have the time (or the groceries....note to self: go grocery shopping) to make dinner. Instead, I loaded Carter up and went to Target on the way to the meeting. I thought we could knock out two birds with one stone by eating pizza for dinner at the lunch counter after grabbing a couple of things I needed for the house.

I usually like shopping at Target, but tonight was an off night. Wierd things happened. Wierd people were everywhere. For example:

--Dear woman in the family restroom: Family restrooms are for FAMILIES. Not for girls who want to feel like they have their own personal bathroom. Do you understand the increasing difficulty of taking my four-year-old son into the women's restroom? Also, next time you decide to barricade yourself in there, you may want to remember to lock the door. Nice meeting you, even though you were wiping your butt at the time.

--Dear dude with the blue mohawk and chains: I'm sorry, but you have no right to get pissed off when my son laughs at you and tells me (at the top of his voice) that you look funny. You DO look funny. YOU DYED YOUR HAIR BLUE AND STAPLED YOURSELF WITH CHAINS.

But all the wierdness was worth it when Carter and I sat down and were eating our pizza, lost in our thoughts. All of a sudden, out of the blue, Carter turned to me and said, "Mom, I like the sound of crickets, but I don't like it when they are close to me."

Ohhh-kay. Now I know.

I love that kid.

Batman for President.

Today, on the way home from work, I picked up Carter from daycare and explained that instead of going home so he could take a nap, we were going to the high school around the corner from our house so that I could vote.

ME: "Do you know what it means to vote?"

CARTER: "Yes."

ME: "What does it mean?"

CARTER: "I don't know."

ME: "It means we get to choose a person to be President of the United States, or the mayor, or a city councilman or..."

CARTER: "...or BATMAN!!"

Hmmm. Batman. I never thought of that. When it comes to politicians, Batman beats everyone, right? Yeah. I'm voting for HIM.

This 'n That.

It's been a while. Mostly because deadline weeks (weeks when all my news articles must be turned in) really wear on me. For two weeks out of the month, I love my job at the paper, mostly because I'm not dreading deadline with all my being. Then the other two weeks fly by, I miss deadline by three days, beat myself up over it every waking minute (and some sleeping minutes, too) risk making my editor fire me, and STRESS OUT. All while trying to keep everything else in my life running. It's a downward spiral, and it's not pretty.

But, cope we must. And this week is NOT deadline week. So life is good!

Some slightly more uplifing items of note:

--I've made this pasta twice in the last week. I love love love it. I love it so much, in fact, that I will eat the leftovers straight from the tupperware in the fridge with a fork. Don't tell anyone.

--I got to have dinner with my awesome friend Alicia tonight. She and her little boys Hunter and Gavin came, ate the above mentioned pasta, and made me and Carter and Randy very very happy.

--My mom and dad are coming this week! They live in Minnesota, so having them come for a visit is a rare treat. I'm looking forward to lots of family time and good food.

--I think I'm obsessed with good food.

--Finally, tomorrow is Randy's and my eighth anniversary. Eight. Yowza. This last year has made me believe that if you can make it through year seven then making it through eternity is CAKE. It's been rough in a lot of ways. But, I'm also grateful that we are closer now than we were a year ago because we've had to get through some tough things together. Our relationship is stronger. And I can honestly say that I love him so much and I'm grateful we've been able to build our life together.

To celebrate, we are going to Vegas in two weeks. Yup, Vegas. We went there on our honeymoon, so we're going to relive the high points (the Liberace Museum and the Luxor's buffet, of course) and we may even go see LOVE. Plus, we're just really really excited to get the heck out of this town.

So that's the update. Deadline week is still two weeks away, so there is a good chance I will post again soon. Until then!

MPM

I have a friend named Kirsty who is brilliant and funny and devilish and I love her to pieces. (You should get to know her.) She has a regular feature on her blog called "Works For Me Wednesday" where she explains a product or technique that makes her life much easier and less chaotic and all-around happy.

Well, in honor of Kirsty and in an attempt to warn you away from things that will NOT make your life easier OR less chaotic and actually cause you to be much less happy, I am introducing a new feature on my blog called "Miserable Product Monday." (OK, this is probably the only time I will do it, and only because I hate this product SOOOOO MUCH!!!)

NEVER BUY THIS PRODUCT. IT IS VERY VERY FALLIBLE.




Unless you would like your shower curtain to look like this:



...and your bathmat to look like this:



...and for two sets of clothes to be spattered with makeup. Because it will happen. Often. But only if you use this crappy product.

Not only does it destroy your bathroom because the pump is constantly clogged (my shower curtain is SIX FEET AWAY from my vanity! SIX FEET!!!!) but when you wear it, it does not make you look young and dewy. It makes you look chalky. And dry-skinned. And OLD.

If you're cheap like me and use drugstore makeup (and you're a little bit more..."mature"...shall we say), go for Maybelline Instant Age Rewind cream foundation instead of this one. Many loads of laundry and one bad attitude later, I really wish I had listened to my own advice!

Not just a job.

One month ago, I got a job. Well, at the time I thought it was just a job--something to help dig us out of our gaping financial hole. (Yes, I know. It's a lot like YOUR gaping financial holes. Who DOESN'T have one by now? But that's a different post.)

On Sept. 8, I dutifully showed up at Jordan Valley School (a magnet school for kids with disabilities) in slacks and a nice button-down shirt to start my first day as a teacher's assistant in a special education preschool classroom. By the end of the day, I had realized three things: 1) I wondered in half-horror what I had done, 2) I knew this was going to be way more than just a job, and 3) I knew that the next day I was going to wear capris and a t-shirt in order to better be able to play.

Because that's what I do--I play. Every day. With 15-20 kids of varying physical and mental abilities. But the way the adults play in our classroom is a lot different than the way the kids play.

The kids are there to be as kid-like as they possibly can. The classroom is a wonderland of toys, costumes and art supplies. They spend two hours each day "working" with all of those toys, playing outside or with teacher Anthony in the gym, and eating really yummy snacks made by Jane and the other really cute lunch ladies.

But as teachers, our "play" is much different. We structure the classroom without the kids' knowledge, so that they learn to self-regulate and transition between activities. Class is divided between Greeting Time, Small Group Time, Planning Time, Work Time, Gym Time and Snack Time. Every kid sticks to the routine, no exceptions. One thing I've learned is that routine is salvation for these kids, many of whom have disabilites that fall somewhere on the Autism spectrum.

We "play" at eliciting as much language from the kids as possible. We have typical kids in our classroom for whom this isn't a problem. But other kids are perfectly fine physically--except that they won't talk. Therefore, it's become a game between the teachers to see which kids we can get responses from and how many words they choose to say. Many times, hearing a child say in a whisper at snack time "juice, please" is enough to make you bounce off the walls in excitement.

We "play" at teaching kids how to behave around others. Most of the time, they do just fine. But I've lost count at how many times I've said "Hands to self" or "Pockets on the floor" while we're sitting at circle during greeting time.

Of course, not everything is sunshine and daisies. Changing diapers on a four-year-old? Ick. Watching the way some of these kids eat? Totally unappetizing. Listening while our most disabled student, who can't swallow, gets suctioned until she cries? Absolutely heartbreaking. But that's part of the job. And the reality is that these kids need people who can face every aspect of the job and not run away.

I can't run away from these kids. I'm all in.

Now, let me make an important distinction here. Dad wrote in an email last week that he turned down a substitute teaching job in an autism classroom. He said he didn't have my "strength of character." Dad, I don't think I would have had the strength of character to take that job either, knowing what I know.

I am painfully aware of the fact that I have it really good when it comes to jobs in the school. All I have to do is walk down to the cafeteria to be reminded of that fact. I've seen teachers get attacked by older students. I've seen teachers care for their kids as tenderly as parents, with the knowledge that they may never get a coherent response in return. I've seen and smelled some disgusting things. And I'm always happy to return to our fun, mostly-happy preschool classroom. I know my limits. And I don't think I could work in many of the other classrooms in the school.

However, I can concentrate on loving my preschool kiddos and caring for them and helping them learn as much as they can before they get released into an educational system that may or may not meet their needs. I am totally willing to do that. In fact, I enjoy doing that on a daily basis.

And so, here we go. It will be a very difficult, rewarding, and interesting year.

A few more reasons why I don't shop at Walmart.






Texas, I love you but....



People of Walmart is SOOOO my new favorite website. (Thanks for the tip, Randy!)

Gems

I love the days when Carter is unintentionally hilarious. Examples follow.

***

On our scheduled trip to see This is the Place Heritage Park tomorrow:

ME: "It's a place where you can see what the lives of the pioneers were like."

CARTER: "Mom, are they alive or dead?"

ME: "They're all dead now."

CARTER: "Oh. Did they get red?"

ME: "'Get red?' What does that mean?"

CARTER: "It means they got sick and died. How many of them got red?"

ME: "Uhhhhh......" (Making a mental note to 1) brush up on my church history and 2) avoid conversations on death with my kid.)

***

After Carter decided to attack me as "The Tickle Monster," albeit a tickle monster who had just gone potty and was naked from the waist down:

ME: "You're naked."

CARTER: "MMMMOOOOOOOOMMMMM!!!! Don't call me naked! It's a bad word!"

***

After babysitting my niece Kinsley this morning:

ME: "Carter, your room is a mess."

CARTER: "Hmmmmm. I don't know, maybe Kinsley did it."

(Attention Kiirstin: Kinsley didn't do it. His room looked like the aftermath of a tornado BEFORE Kinsley got there.)

Sneaky kid.

Perspective, Part II

Every woman has those days when you wake up and look in the mirror and you're happy with yourself and you're looking pretty good, and you think, "Maybe that workout is finally getting me toned up and wow, that new cleanser is doing wonders for my radiant skin! I may be thirtysomething, but I'm a HOT thirtysomething!!"

But more often, there are those days when you wake up and look in the mirror and your heart just sinks because all you see is flab and cellulite and weird moles and random pimples and hair in strange places. Those mornings are depressing. They make you frown a lot and wear slouchy clothes to try to hide everything you hate about your body.

And then there are those days when you see something that puts it all into perspective. Yes, you may not have the body you had when you were 20. Yes, hair grows in places it shouldn't. Yes, you may have pimples. BUT!!! Exercise equipment (or in my case, the neighborhood streets and a couple of friends) can help you feel better about that! Tweezers and Proactiv were created for people like you!! The world does not end because of bad hair days!!! And chances are good that you will never, ever, ever look like this...


see more Fail Blog

...because you are smart enough to know when enough is ENOUGH.

When it comes right down to it, I would be ungrateful to complain about the body that I have. All kidding aside, I have a body that gets me where I want to go. I can move and run and dress myself and feed myself and play with my kids and ride on a roller coaster and do pretty much anything I want to do. And when I get dressed up, I think I look pretty good. SO WHAT if I don't look like Cindy Crawford. I can live my life and enjoy everything I do. I'm FREE.

On a side note, I've also vowed to never buy short shorts from Aeropostale!!! You would do well to follow my lead.

How much more can 24 hours hold?

Not that I want to find out. It's a rhetorical question.

Yesterday, my sis-in-law Angelica and my brother Cameron had the scare of their lives in the form of the birth of their new son, Caleb. Caleb was fine, but Angie was not and she ended up having to have emergency surgery--basically to save her life. She has some serious recovery time ahead of her, but we're glad she's safe. And now we have this little one in our family...



...and I got to hold him yesterday. (I'm so d*mn baby hungry I can't even stand it.)

This morning, bright and early, I dropped Carter off at Kim's house and went to my new job. Wow. This will be an interesting year. More about that later.

After work, I got home, put Carter down for a nap and then found out that my dad was admitted to the hospital this afternoon. He has numbness in his face, and after a few tests the doctors found that his heart is working much harder than it should be under normal circumstances. So they admitted him to do some tests, find out what's up, and hopefully prevent any other problems. Dad's not famous for taking very good care of himself, so maybe this will be a good thing for him--scare him into exercising once in a while and NOT putting an entire stick of butter on his toast in the morning. You know, baby steps.

Anyway, I'm kind of glad this day is drawing to a close and hoping nothing else gets thrown our way. But considering the fragile and unpredictable nature of life, I'm not getting my hopes up too high!

Story of my Life.

Unnecessary furor.

Seriously, people? (And by "people," I mean ultra-conservative right wingers.)

He's the PRESIDENT.

He wants kids to STAY IN SCHOOL and GET AN EDUCATION.

Get your facts straight, and get off your high horses.

You are making yourselves look paranoid and ridiculous.

And by the way, those "Despite-your-political-preference-the-president-deserves-respect" arguments you threw around during the last administration work when the president is a Democrat, too.

Teach THAT to your children, please. Preferably by example.

On joining the ranks.

This Tuesday, I will join the ranks of the gainfully employed. Well, sort of. The pay isn't going to stop traffic, and it will only be part-time. But I will be doing something that will make a difference...I hope.

I will be starting at Jordan Valley Elementary as a special education preschool assistant.

I know. Whoa.

And this position allows me to get my teaching license.

Yowza.

I think it's funny how life comes full circle. Growing up, all I wanted to be was a teacher, mostly so I could write on the blackboard all day. When I went to junior college, I had other more responsible reasons for wanting to teach. But after I got an associate's degree with an emphasis on elementary ed, I decided that teaching was maybe not what I wanted to do with my life.

And now, here I am. When I was going to school again this last time, I thought about getting my teaching license. But paying for the 15 extra classes (and going to school for another year and a half, at least) didn't seem like the thing to do at the time. However, with this job, licensure is a distinct possiblity and this time it seems like a reasonable goal.

I am excited--and scared, and worried, and overwhelmed, and a little sick to my stomach--about this opportunity. It will be a good thing--yet another twist in my twisted life, a curveball I didn't see coming. But an adventure, nonetheless!

Inspired by a pioneer woman and little rat named Remy.

The movie "Ratatouille" is Carter's latest obsession.



He quotes it at random times and begs to watch it at least once a day. His favorite character this week is Anton Ego, the terrifyingly evil food critic who feels that his mission in life is to shut down Gusteau's restaurant. Last week, he said, "Mom, I want to be like him when I grow up." Silently, I thought "What, terrifying? Evil?" But to my relief, he followed up his surprise declaration with, "I want to be a food critic."

Again my thoughts took over and I started to wonder, "Don't you have to actually EAT food in order to be a food critic?!" Because lately getting Carter to eat a meal is like declaring war--a world war that would last forever if not for the lengthy negotiations, diplomacy, and treaties.

So today, when he told me he wanted to eat rataouille--the EXACT ratatouille shown in the movie, thank you very much--I hastily agreed. Pretty veggies all lined up and baked? DONE.

I found a recipe for Ratatouille's Ratatouille on a site called Smitten Kitchen. (Find the recipe here.) And then, in true Pioneer Woman style, I decided to document the entire process in pictures. (If you haven't visited her site, GO. NOW. I'LL WAIT.)

Can I just say that I love slicing veggies? And cooking? And I LOVE it when food is pretty. So today's meal was nirvana for me.

Start with this.


Super-thinly sliced yellow squash, zuchini, eggplant, and red bell pepper. (Yes, I know a mandoline would be easier/faster, but I don't have one and slicing veggies is therapeutic for me.)

In a baking dish, mix together tomato puree, thinly sliced onions and garlic, salt and pepper and a little olive oil.


Start lining the outside of the dish with a circular row of veggies, alternating them in a visually pleasing pattern. Then fill in the gap in the middle. You should end up with this.



Drizzle the top with a little more olive oil, then sprinkle with salt, pepper, and some thyme.



Cut some parchment paper to fit snugly inside the dish, then bake at 375 degrees for about 45 minutes.


When you can't stand the delicious smell anymore, pull it out of the oven.



Doesn't that look DIVINE?! Carter loved the way it looked...he asked to look at it about 50 times before I actually served it, and he peeked at the leftovers in the fridge again right before he went to bed.

I served it with some whole wheat pasta and bread I baked yesterday. But you can eat it alone, with couscous or rice, or however you think you'd like it.



The true test: Carter ate it. And tonight during bedtime prayers, the first thing he said was, "Heavenly Father, I'm thankful we could have ratatouille today."

Ahhhh, the scrumptious smell of victory.

Bittersweet

Last week, I took a whirlwind trip to Tennessee. My Uncle Rick, whom I wrote about a little before I left, passed away unexpectedly. My mom and dad were nice enough to use their frequent flier miles to buy me a plane ticket so I could go to the funeral and spend time with the family.

Being back east again was strange for a lot of reasons. First and most important reason: my Uncle Rick, the most quietly kind and comforting person you'd ever meet, was gone. I was staying at his house, but he wasn't there anymore. It felt empty, even though the house was packed to capacity. (Aunt Linda asked all of us, including her sons who live 20 minutes away from her, to stay at the house.) I missed him. A lot.

Second reason: I was there for a funeral so I thought I ought to have been sad all the time. But I wasn't, and I feel kind of guilty for that. I was just so darn happy to be surrounded by my mom's family! We are all spread out over the U.S. (Washington, Minnesota, Tennessee, Utah.....) and we hardly ever get to see each other, so being in the same house together for four whole days felt like a happy reunion instead of a sad one.

Third reason: I felt like I had come back home. I lived with my aunt and uncle for a year, so coming back to the house and to the Tennessee hills brought back so many good memories and made me ache for how much I love it there.

It was a busy four days, and so much of it was sad, but there were some amazingly good moments, too--meeting Lydia and seeing Stephanie again (it kills me that they live so far away!); holding baby Leif; watching in wonder as my "little" cousin Randy, all grown up and married now, took control of the preparations and still kept one eye on his mom at all times to make sure she was ok; long catch-up conversations with Alan and Ryan....and Mark and Kamie and Brit, too!; a much-needed pedicure from Krissy; hugging and talking to my Aunt Linda; hanging out with my mom; and of course, the impromptu Abba dance party during lunch after the graveside service to honor Rick's varied musical tastes. He would have loved that.

All in all, the most perfect definition of "bittersweet."


This is the only funeral picture I'll post, just because the casket spray was absolutely gorgeous.


Ryan's tribute to Rick's sometimes-iffy footwear choices.


Mark, Mom, Kamie, and Brit in Atlanta after we found each other in the airport by accident and discovered we were all flying into Johnson City together. God works in mysterious ways. It's true.


Me + Leif + Aunt Linda's back porch = perfect peace.




Our one release: a visit to the Carter Family Fold in Virginia. We listened to old-time music, danced, and relaxed. A nice ending to a hard and emotional week. (Thanks for being brave, Mom and Steph and Lydia!)


Twilight in the Appalachian mountains, outside the Carter Fold. It makes my heart stand still.

My Uncle Rick

This is a picture of my family with my Uncle Rick and Aunt Linda's family when they came to visit us in August of 2006. (Rick and Linda are the ones in the yellow shirts.) I lived with them for a year or so in Tennessee when I was nannying/rebelling/deciding on the direction of my life before I finally chose to go on a mission for the LDS church. I really enjoyed getting to know them during my time out there, since we didn't get to see them very much when I was growing up. And needless to say, they had the patience of Job when dealing with me. I'm telling you, it took a lot of charity and love and tolerance on their part. I will be forever grateful for their unconditional love and support when I needed it most.

Uncle Rick passed away tonight. He had leukemia for a long time, but it was an infection that ended up taking him away from us. My heart is broken for his family and for everyone who knew him. But I'm also sad for those who didn't know him. He was a calming presence with quiet strength, but he had my grandpa's sense of humor, eye twinkles, and snicker. I will miss him, and I hope he knows how much I love him and am grateful to him.

See ya later, Uncle Rick.

Unintended Epithets.

Today, Carter and I were privileged to ride on the Valley Journals parade float in the Kearns Hometown Days parade, since I write for the Taylorsville/Kearns Journal.

When I broke this idea to Carter at the beginning of the week, he wasn't very excited. Also, since Randy had to ride on a float for his clinic in a completely DIFFERENT parade and Brendan and Camryn had football and a piano recital all scheduled within the same time frame as the parades, Carter had no choice but to come with me. He wasn't happy about it, and he definitely registered his unhappiness. ("Mom, I don't want to go. You go, and I will just be by myself.")

All of that changed, though, when we showed up at the staging area and found Caeden, the little boy belonging to the owners of the paper. He is also four, and after bonding over their age and their mutual love of candy Carter decided that maybe riding on the float and throwing the beloved candy to other kids might be worthwhile.

Then, about halfway through the parade, sweet little Caeden decided people just weren't as excited as they should be about the candy he was throwing. And that's when I heard this:

Caeden: (Tossing a handful of lollipops to the crowd) "SUCK ON THAT!!!!"

Carter immediately filed this new tactic under "Brilliant" in that little brain of his, and promptly chimed in.

Carter: (Tossing candy to the confused spectators) "YEAH, SUCK ON THAT!!!!!!"

After I stopped laughing and started breathing again, I quietly suggested that maybe the people already knew to suck on the candy, and that they could stop yelling, which they did. But I've decided that maybe I should carry a bagful of lollipops with me everywhere I go. Then, when I get mad at the drunk driver in front of me or the rude checkers at the store, I can yell "OH YEAH? WELL SUCK ON THAT!!" and hand them a piece of candy and be absolved of all wrongdoing. (Though I must admit that I don't have youth or unbearable cuteness to use as an excuse. This could be a problem.)

Let me explain.....

So, I've known for a while now that my blog has a big gaping hole in it. It's a hole that encompasses a really huge part of my life. When I realized I'd totally ignored that part of my life on my blog, I tried to figure out why I hadn't written about it before.

And now for the brutal honesty.

I'm a stepmother. I have two great step-kids named Brendan and Camryn. And I mean that--they are really really great kids. So besides being in a couple of pictures I've posted, why haven't I written about them?

Answer: because even though they are great kids, I am not a great step-mom. I don't enter into evil stepmother territory, not by a longshot. At our house, no one goes hungry or is clothed in rags, and most of the time we have fun. But there are so many things I could have done/could be doing soooooo much better. And I hate facing up to that fact.

I also had to come to grips with another thing very early in my marriage--I am not their mom. They already have a mom, and though it's my responsibility to love and care for them when they're here, the bottom line is that I can't make big decisions for them. That's their mom's job. So even though they are a big part of our lives, posting stories and pictures about another mom's kids didn't seem appropriate somehow.

But that's not really reality, is it? They are here every other weekend, and lots of holidays and for a month in the summer. They only live 20 minutes away from us, so we take them to do things all the time. And even though they are not here all the time, they are just as much a part of our family as Carter.

So, today I am introducing Brendan and Camryn.

This is Brendan.




He is obsessed with sports, mainly football, and is playing defense on a junior football team this year. He is also obsessed with texting. (What 13-year-old isn't?) He's a good kid, gets good grades, and he loves to help Randy with Carsnobs. He also loves trash-talking, especially during games of Monopoly.

This is Camryn.




She is ten and likes to write and draw. She frequently creates little illustrated stories for Randy. She also loves books, especially if they have anything to do with fairies. She is, as my friend Deb used to say, "such a Jewish mother." She is really good at taking care of everyone around her, especially her little brothers and sister. She's also learning to like cooking, and helps me in the kitchen sometimes.

So there you have it. That's my entire family to date, and no I'm not hiding anyone else.

Pioneer Day, Mary Poppins style.

Here in Utah, we have a holiday which no one else has--Pioneer Day. Every 24th of July, we Utahns use Brigham Young and the Mormon pioneers as an excuse to 1) not work, 2) get drunk (well, some of us anyway. Like the guy who was driving, i.e. swerving in forward motion, in front of me this afternoon), and 3) set off lots and lots of fireworks.

Since Randy and I don't get to Wyoming very often to buy the really good illegal fireworks like everyone else, we usually mooch off of the neighbors or the nearest partying municipality.

Today we had an idea so brilliant, it's a wonder we didn't think of it before. Fireworks are really pretty from the ground, right? Why not watch them from the ROOF OF OUR HOUSE?!

I don't have the pictures to prove it, since I was busy trying to rid my brain of the slow-motion image of my children tumbling off the roof and into our front garden. Pictures would have been especially funny, considering the fact that Randy had literally tied Camryn and Carter to him with a rope. But suffice it to say, the roof is hands-down the best place to watch fireworks. Period.

From our roof, we can see the ENTIRE Salt Lake Valley. So we enjoyed fireworks displays from all the pyros in our neighborhood, plus Cottonwood Heights, South Jordan, Kearns area, and the post-game blowouts from the Bees game and the Real Salt Lake game. Throw in some lightning, and we had a pretty darn good show. And luckily, no broken necks.

So Happy Pioneer Day everyone! And a big ol' "neener neener" to all you non-Utahns who had to deal with real life today--especially you kids in Missouri and Illinois. Just think of all the partying you guys have missed out on. What a shame.

Who needs Comedy Central?

I love my son for so many reason, but one of those reasons is that he is HILARIOUS. Screaming-with-laughter-and-holding-your-sides funny. And he's had a really good run in the last few days--humor-wise, I mean.
First, there's this little gem.



Corn on the cob is good, but Carter could teach lessons in Relishing 101. And I love that he's truly confused about why we laugh after he declares his hands "clean."

Carter's a sweetie, but he's also been learning to pit Randy and I against each other when it comes to issues of treats, movies and computer time. For example, if he comes to me for one of these things and I say no, he will walk straight to Randy in the other room, ask him the same question, and usually get a different answer. (In his defense, Randy usually doesn't know that Carter has already gotten a "no" from me.)

Tonight, Carter asked for a treat as he rummaged through the pantry for something sweet. I told him that would be fine. Eventually, he found the bag of candy he got from the 4th of July parade a couple of weeks ago and brought it to me. I handed him a Tootsie Roll and a taffy and told him that was all he could have since it was almost bedtime. He let out a "Woo-hoo!" and happily shoved it all in his mouth.

A minute or two later, he walked over to the coffee table where I had set the bag, and attempted to snatch it. As I snatched it back, he said, "I just want to take it to Daddy!"

But I know that trick. So I tickled him, told him no more candy, and said "You sneaky little devil, you!"

To which he replied, "Mom, I'm NOT A 'W'!!!!"

Pure comedic genius. Unwitting and accidental, but still genius.

Bored Games.

Carter has become enamored with Candyland in the past few weeks, and enjoys playing it frequently. Randy and I, on the other hand, have realized there's a reason it's for kids 3-6 years of age. It's BORING. Really really mind-numbing. But we play it because we love our son--luckily.

However, Carter and I played a best-of-three tournament this morning that was actually fun--fun for Carter because he loves the game, and fun for me because I love watching Carter.

For example, did you know that the four little gingerbread-man gamepieces can play a really down and dirty game of football? Or that the candy characters on the board are "fabulous?" Well, it's true.

But the biggest thing I learned is that my son is super-competetive. After winning the last game and doing a victory dance, Carter plopped down on my lap, put his chubby arms around my neck, and in an attempt to console the loser said, "Mom, when four-year-olds win, thirty-three-year-olds don't win."

Now that's wisdom you can't argue with.

Happy 4th to one and all.

At this time of pride and patriotism, enjoy the freedom to celebrate our independence.

But please don't celebrate like these people.



Have a great (and safe) holiday, everyone!

Fun things.

Prepare yourselves for a long post with lots of pictures. It's been a busy month at the Archibald residence.

On May 31st we celebrated Carter's birthday. Actually, on May 30th he had his friend party and on May 31st we had family dinner and gifts, so really it was Carter's birthday weekend. So spoiled.

The friend party went well. Only two friends out of the five showed up, and they were both girls. Did Carter care? Not a bit. Pizza, ice cream, cake, toys, presents, a water fight, and a pinata. Not bad for two hours on a Saturday.




Sunday we had spaghetti with all the fixins, more cake, more ice cream, and Carter-man got to open all his gifts from us: "Cars" games, model cars, a Nerf football, and various other little stuff. Grandma also got him an easel with markers, chalk, and paper. So far, the easel is the best gift EVER.

This last week has been crammed with summer goodness. On Wednesday, my sister-in-law Angela and her two kids Will and Chelsea picked us up and we all headed to Bear Lake to stay for a day in a condo my in-laws had reserved. It was a welcome break, and though Garden City, UT will not be deemed a metropolis anytime soon, it had all we needed: sun, water, food, and a place to sleep. We had a great time. Even Carter, my sometimes-over-cautious kiddo, looked up at me while we were playing at the beach and said, "Mom, I love Bear Lake."







On Friday, after being miserably sick with the worst. cold. ever. for about three days (It started the morning we drove to Bear Lake. Yeah.) I needed to get out of the house. I'd been promising Carter I would take him to the open house at the new Oquirrh Mountain Temple of the LDS church, so I went online, reserved some tickets, and off we went. Carter's first temple experience was at the Draper Temple open house, so he was really excited to go inside the new one. Yes, I know I'm a cheesy Mormon mom when I say I am so glad that my son loves to be in the temple.

Afterward, we took some pictures. Carter was happy to sit for them.




As long as he got to do what he really wanted to do in the first place, which was play in the fountain.

And yes, Moroni really did get struck by lightning.


Last but not least, on Saturday we connected with our inner rednecks by attending the demolition derby at the West Jordan Western Stampede. We went with Randy's twin Dave, his wife Alicia, and their boys Aiden and Evan.

As you are probably aware, Randy is obsessed with cars and he has passed on this obsession to our son. When Randy cut the ad for the derby out of the paper and showed it to Carter a few days ago, Carter was so excited he could barely stand it. He carried the ad around with him, ate breakfast with it every morning, and had every detail of it memorized by the time Saturday rolled around. He even had a running countdown, and informed everyone he met that he was "going to the demolition derby in __ days." And yet, despite all his excitement and macho toughness, the little boy in him came out in the end and he watched the entire derby like this:

I know he's my kid, but I swear he's the cutest kid this side of the Mississippi.