The Post Wherein I Insult People of Nominal Intelligence and Large Bank Accounts

I'm kinda grumpy. It could just be the hormones, but I sort of want to punch Santa in the face for being at the mall before Thanksgiving has even had a chance to get here.
It feels like the stores are telling me to HURRY UP AND BUY CRAP!!!! FORGET ABOUT BEING THANKFUL!!!

Thanksgiving is my second favorite holiday. Partly because it's an excuse to eat as much pumpkin pie as I can possibly fit in my tummy-guilt free, and partly because it's not about STUFF; it's about being grateful. Easter is my favorite holiday for nearly the same reasons, except you can sub Cadbury mini eggs for pie. I also like that I have an entire day devoted to feeling grateful for my Savior. How cool is that? (Also, if someone can explain how colored eggs and a bunny fits in with the Resurrection, I'm all ears.)


Anyway, back to wanting to punch Santa in the face.

Today I read about this thing called a Baby Planner or Baby Consultant. Yes, these are real people. They apparently help you buy the best gear for your little Smurf or Smurfette. I'll admit my first thought upon hearing about this was, what is F-ing WRONG with people? My second thought was, how can I take advantage of these morons?" 


Seriously, if you have THAT much money, and no common sense, don't I have a moral obligation to relieve you of your excess Benjamins? Someone should and it may as well be me, since I actually know how to use money, unlike the flakes who hire a Baby Consultant.

Here's a little piece of free advice that includes all the things you MUST have to care for your new baby: baby carrier, diapers, wipes, some clothes, and if you want to obey the law-a car seat. If you're feeling particularly daring, might I suggest you go get a BRAIN as well?
Holy Toledo. If you need any more help, I'd be happy to consult for you. I won't even insult you (to your face). My fee starts at $500 an hour. Trust me, I'm VERY worth it. I'm so full of opinions, I needed a blog to spout them all.

PS Bill, this one was for you.

Alexander Kind of Day

You know the book, Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day?

That, but for moms.

I was going to give you a blow by blow, and then I was going to do bullets, but both were too depressing so instead I'll just tell you how my day ended.

I dropped off (underdone but dried out) dinner to a friend who'd JUST had a baby. I dropped it off in my frumpy clothes and ball cap.
My friend had her hair and makeup done, her kids were neat (all of them) AND her house was clean. Not just the front room, THE WHOLE THING.

I had just come from my kitchen counter covered in dinner making muck, kitchen table and chairs covered in Zsa Zsa muck, and newly steamed kitchen floor covered in apricot muck tracked about by kids who don't even belong to me. My whole house looks like goblins live here, because if we're being totally honest, two of them do. It stinks like pee regardless of the fact I just steamed all the floors in an attempt to erase the smell. It's a good thing we don't have a dog, or I'd have kicked it. I think there are laws about kicking you children, though, and they are the only other possible source. I can pretty much guarantee neither The Hubs nor I would choose squatting in a corner over the porcelain throne.

Clearly, I'm failing at life. I'd go stick my head in the oven, but it's not currently working. I'd probably just end up giving myself a tan. (See above statement about dinner)

Idaho

Monday was wash day (and bread day and watch the kids day and make rocket ships out of cardboard boxes day, but those aren't relevant).
Every once in a while, I think I'm starting to get used to Arizona and it's brownness. I even got excited to see the pale green of my Palo Verde tree this week.  But since Monday was laundry day and I had all my shirts hanging in the laundry at the same time, I realized something;

I wore green EVERY DAY last week, which obviously means I'm missing green. Or that I'm stuck in the movie Ground Hog Day and the holiday that was repeating happened to be St. Patrick's.
Either Way...
People who live in "my" part of Idaho will laugh that I'm calling it green, but trust me peeps, it's more green than here. MUCH more. Especially the South Hills. And The Sawtooth Range. And a little bit the Rockies. I miss Alturas Lake and Red Fish Lake and pretty much the entire state of Idaho.
Luckily, we're coming to visit! Soon! When we can't afford the air conditioning here any more.

Photo by Art Hale. I  took it from the internet. I hope Art, whoever he is, doesn't mind. Thanks, Art. The people of Arizona thank your for your ability to capture the color green. And lakes.

Chill, Baby. Just Chill.

News Flash: Summer is almost here. For those of you living in Arizona, you know what this means; all the old people are (finally) leaving and we can navigate Costco without being run over by a Jazzy.

Also, it's about to get very, very hot. 

Because I love y'all, I've compiled a list of creative and innovative ways to stay cool when you just can't ask any more of your A/C unit(s).

1. Clean your refrigerator. I know you're thinking I've confused this list with a list of things to do before your in-laws come to dinner, but I'm totally serious. It's 4pm and you just can't take the heat anymore. Because it's only 4pm, the heat index still has 5-10 degrees before apex and surely, you will melt before then. What better way to beat the heat than to stand in your open fridge and wipe that crusty spot under the milk carton? For an added level of fun, you can open the Tupperware™ that's been lurking on the back shelf since 1983, back when people actually bought Tupperware™. 
2. If it's really hot, say late July, your pregnant AND we've had a record high, you could defrost your deep freeze. Give the kids the Popsicles you bought last year and forgot about, because lets be honest, how often do you make it to the bottom of the deep freeze? Cook up the steaks on top and move everything else to an ice chest. When the deep freeze is nice and empty, unplug that bad boy and just crawl inside. The unit will be defrosted in no time, owing the heat emanating from your slightly charred, Arizona-in-July-body. 
3. A list can be two things! Quit being greedy. I've got to save some of my innovative ideas for the patent office. 

If neither of those things does it for you, here are some more normal ways to stay cool during the Arizona Summer: 

1. Make friends with lots of nice people who happen to have pools in their backyards
2. Take a nap on the tile floor
3. Get some more fans, turn them on
4. Eat Popsicles
5. Or ice
6. Or ice cream
7. Or frozen steak 
8. Move to somewhere that is not Arizona. 

We tried #8 last summer, and not only did we escape Arizona in July, I got educated, as well. Talk about your win/win. The only downside was the city pool was so cold during swimming lessons, the kids turned blue half way through the lesson. Wait, did I just say a cold pool was a down side????
This post has been brought to you by: A very hot IdahoBecky.

Dentists and Such

I try not to post unless I have something witty, clever or ingenious to add to the blogosphere, but seeing as how its been DAYS since I've posted anything, I guess I'll make an exception.

• Did you know dental offices are now offering in-house plans? Say you don't have dental insurance. The first family member pays $150 a year and gets two cleanings, a set of x-rays and 30% off any needed work. Subsequent family members pay $75 for the same benefits. This is ingenious...for the dentist. They get the same, or more  money as they would if the patient were insured AND they don't have to employ a billing specialist. The consumer, as usual, gets shafted. Sure, I'm paying the same (roughly) out-of-pocket as I did WITH insurance, except all up front instead of from every paycheck. But in addition, I'm saving the office the pain of having to bill insurance and hash out the price lists on a yearly basis and wait months on end to actually get paid.  Don't get me wrong, though. I LOVE our dentist. Of all the dentists I've seen in my life, he's the only one whose said, "hmm. I see a little something on this x-ray. Why don't we watch it for 6 months." I come back in 6 months and he says the same thing! Seriously. Love that. Plusandalso, he's family.

note: NOT my dentist

• Did I mention we're getting our house ready to sell? This is a singularly gut-wrenching experience. I can not explain the level of angst looking at the neighborhood comps causes me. Seeing how much our house has lost in value over the last 3 years might be more painful than labor, but I wouldn't know. That pain is magnified by every dollar I spend to get the house "show-ready". Today I'm buying paint and fixtures for the master bath. At least I'll probably get to enjoy my upgrades for some time to come, since we are not selling for (significantly) less than we paid. I'm not really even sure why we are selling at the this point. It's not like we have somewhere better to go! I am pretty excited The Hubs is letting me spruce the place up a bit. I may have to write a separate post all about my new dishwasher.
• The Hubs' raise should be only a month away. Halle-frick'n-lujah! I have big plans for that money. Big BIG plans. Pay off student loans and our mortgage big. I'm telling you, we're living on the edge at our house.
• Did I mention our car is paid off? I could just kiss Dave Ramsey. You know, if I didn't know what looked like...or if he weren't old enough to be my dad.

Snow

Saturday was my final day of running a Bountiful Baskets site in Idaho. Of COURSE we were outside, and of COURSE it snowed heavy, wet flakes the entire time.
When The Hubs and I got home, we found the kids had been making a 'noman' with their auntie.
They were VERY excited about the noman. They were not as excited to go back outside half dressed so mommy could take their picture whilst standing in the snow next to said noman. Ah well. A good life lesson kids! Sometimes you have to do things you'd rather not while freezing your tail off. Or something like that.

Sunday we woke up to no new snow. But all during church it fell. And fell. And fell. Until the world became white, all around. And we had to trudge through hip-deep snow in Sunday shoes, up hill both ways, to our car. OK, so it was only ankle deep. But needless to say, ballerina flats are NOT snow shoes.
Also, we have yet to buy an ice scraper. I just can't see making that purchase for the three remaining weeks we'll be here. Instead of shelling out four dollars for a stupid plastic scraper, I'd rather turn the car on ten minutes before we need to go somewhere, and burn $400 million of gas waiting for the windshield to defrost. I just love the environment THAT much! I actually picked a scraper up at the dollar store last week, but on my way to checkout I dropped it, and the darn thing shattered. Good thing that happened BEFORE I paid for it.

Monday morning I slid to the gym on roads of glass. (How's THAT for purple prose) But by the time I came home again, the roads had been sanded. Tuesday the entire valley shut down due to blizzard warnings, so Mom and I both got to stay home! Good thing, since I just poked my head out the door and it nearly blew off. I guess they were serious about that blizzard warning...and I here I thought they just wanted us to avoid Dairy Queen.

Mom and I walked to Smith's for milk, and later to KMart to get a new snow suit for The Boy. Both times you'd have thought the Idaho State Police HADN'T asked people to close businesses and STAY HOME! Traffic was per usual. As The Hubs says, "you can't make people take good advice". So true Hubs, so true. I've been dispensing EXCELLENT advice for years now. Nobody pays any attention.

Stressed

I am SOOOOOOOOOOO stressed out!!!!!!!!!

Seriously.

1. School. I have a lab practical this Friday. It's over FOUR of the 11 systems in your body, but only 40 questions. Seriously? That is SO much material for 40 questions. Where do I even start studying? Did I mention there are only THREE lab practicals the entire semester? No? There are. Ack. Oh, and I have a math test that same day over stuff I don't get. Uh huh.

2. The Hubs job is seriously SERIOUSLY stressing me out. He's the lead programmer on this massive project that from my perspective doesn't appear to be going all that well. He's working until 11:30 some nights, weekends, he gets up early to work on it. It's probably that he's super in to doing a good job, but really, I never see him, even though he works from home.

3. Some other stuff I can't really talk about. This might be the thing that's stressing me out the most. Some income we count on to make the ends meet each month is not there, and it's making some other stuff look shaky at best and plus there's personal stuff mixed up into all of it and it's just a giant mess and pretty much all my fault, but I can't DO anything about it and I HATE stuff I can't do anything about and stuff that's my fault. How's that for a run-on sentence?

4. AND to top it all off, I'm not ready for Halloween. What kind of a mother AM I, anyway? A lousy one, that's what.

5. Also, BYU won this weekend, but barely. What the heck, Cougs? What the heck? Don't you know I have ENOUGH to worry about?

ADDENDUM: The Hubs just emerged from the dungeon basement and said all is well. He fixed the massive problem. The project is golden.Sigh of relief.

Dear Dad,

I miss you. I've been thinking about Father's Days past and how we'd make meatloaf, mashed potatoes and broccoli (because mom insisted on a vegetable) every year. It was your favorite meal. We'd get you a pair of dockers or a white shirt or socks or a tie EVERY YEAR and EVERY YEAR you would act surprised and so happy. Even the years you picked out your own clothes.
Then there were the years the little girls went though the phase of making gigantic signs from rolls of news print, screaming HAPPY FATHER'S DAY in awkward print with the letters getting smaller and smaller toward the end, since the girls were spatially challenged and ran out of room...
How I love you, Daddy. All the Saturdays spent learning to drive in the boonies. All the late hours spent at work making sure we had enough to get by. That one barefoot walk, on the way to the canyon with the wind howling and our feet freezing on the blacktop, when you told me you loved me more than anything and I meant the world to you, but not with those exact words.
The bedtime stories that came straight from your own childhood, brought to life with your amazing oratorical skills.  I wish I could tell the "Shimmy/snake" story with half your pizazz. The way the entire world seemed to love you, to bask in your presence, even if no one outside our little corner of the state knew you those who did all loved you (except that one guy, but you showed him!) and trusted and admired you. People still tell me how amazing and strong you were in life.
And I remember how scared you were for every surgery or treatment, but also how hopeful and excited you were that "This would be the ONE". The long months that were bone marrow transplants, and finally giving up and coming home, knowing the end would be wickedly brutal, and long. And it was. Just awful.

I got so mad when you wouldn't just give up! After all hope was gone I begged you to let go, but you would not, because you didn't want us to grow up thinking giving up was OK. How I hated and admired that stubborn determination of yours, especially at the end when you couldn't eat and weighed less than mom.

Heavenly Father must really love me, to have sent me to be your daughter. You are one amazing man, Dad.
Thank you for your love, your guidance, showing me how to love the Lord and serve Him, be a parent and most of all, for believing in me. And thanks for trusting me when I got engaged after two weeks. It worked out. He's a great Dad, just like you.
Save me a spot in Heaven. I'd like to live next door, if that's OK. :)

The Mid-Mid Life Crisis: During Which I Briefly Consider Running for Elected Office

I'm having a mid-life crisis. Or to be more exact, a mid-mid life crisis. Since I'm not OLD old or anything.
Recently I finally decided what I wanted to be when I grow up, but then I realized I was ALREADY grown up and had missed my window of opportunity (i.e. pre-children) to finish the 'ol education and become a fully vetted Naturopathic Physician and/or Regular Old Physician.
Briefly I decided that didn't matter much, and I just go to school anyway.

Then I tried it.

School is FUN!

School and raising kids at the same time is not.

Possibly if I didn't have these very opinionated views on attachment parenting, I'd have an easier time leaving my children in the care of others to do whatever the heck I wanted. But my children, particularly The Boy, were so difficult to come by it feels WRONG to just up and leave them to go to school. Even when I leave them with family.

So we're back to the original question that started it all: How does Momma go about feeling self-fulfilled and worth-while?
Option One: Time/money wise it seems best to just finish my Bachelor's Degree. I'm about 40 credits away, so three semesters if I go fast.
Option Two which qualifies as dream-fulfilling, is to go to medical school, probably naturopathic, which can't happen until after Option One anyway.
Option Three is get a nurse midwife degree and attend VBACing mommas illegally. This is almost as much time and not as much money as Option Two.
Option Four is not an option: Do nothing. I've been doing nothing. Do Nothing is NOT working for me.
For kicks and giggles, here's
Option Five: become a state legislator and change the rules surrounding who's allowed to attend births.
I am now officially open to any and all suggestions. If you say, "Talk to The Hubs" though, I will scream. He wants me to be an illegal midwife. Yeah. Not so much.

Nothing But Time

If you have ever wondered what would happen, should I have an endless supply of childcare and absolutely nothing to do, I have the answer. Over-posting on Facebook and truly obscene levels of chocolate consumption.
This is why God will never let The Hubs be rich.
With The Sister watching the kiddos and virtually no school work for me to do this week, I've had nothing to do. So I play on the computer, do Sudoku and eat. A lot. I got on the scale this morning and it was not a beautiful thing. It would have been even uglier had I not been spending upwards of two hours in the gym everyday attempting to mitigate the chocolate consumption of the previous day. It's not working.
Perhaps it's time to take up a hobby. I'm thinking something along the lines of marathon sleeping...

Riddled With ADD

I'm just riddled with ADD, and I have proof. Here's a list of stuff that was going through my head last night as I was trying to fall asleep.

1. I wonder if the Queen of England ever goosed her husband in private?

2. Did he enjoy it?

3. Would almond butter have made my brownies more tasty? 

4. Why does Ironman wear an Iron suit? Wouldn't steel be more comfortable?

5. Is The Boy going to remember how naughty he was today in a year, five years?

6. Did I lock the back door?

7. Sociology is a crack science. 

8. I hate bootie shorts on teenage girls. Especially girls who have NO IDEA what they mean.\

9. Does Nicolas Sarkozy wear boxers or briefs?
10. Why am I wondering about world leader's and their bottoms?

Confessions

OK, so maybe I don't want to move. Tonight we had a bon fire in the backyard. You can't do that in Arizona. Ever.
I will miss my friends, I will miss my baby doctor, and mostly, I will miss my mom.
I can't help thinking that my momma needs us more than Matt's momma. After all, my mom will only have two kids in town after this summer, and one of them will be busy being a newlywed.
See? My momma does need us more.

But then I go back to how easy it was for Matt to get this job. Nobody gets a job that easy without divine intervention.
Maybe I should move home, and Matt can go to AZ by himself. I can learn to fly planes and make lots of visits. Especially in the winter.
It's weird, but the older I get, the less I want to be away from my mom. I thought it was supposed to work the other way around? When I was 18, I couldn't wait to get the heck out of town, but that wasn't so much a drive to get away from family as it was a drive to prove I could do life on my own. Now I know better; nobody does life alone. We're not supposed to operate that way.
I know my place is with Matt, I just don't like it when what's right feels wrong in my heart.
Usually I'm the one gunning for change, but I can tell my heart isn't in it because I did not pack one single thing this entire day, and I only have a week left to get it all done.
I'm going to blame it on being so tired from growing a baby, and not on being morose.

If I'm totally honest, I'm also nervous about living so close to Matt's family. They've all been together for ages and have each other figured out. It feels like moving to a new school half way through the year. Matt says this is part his fault because his family doesn't really know who he is, so they have a hard time figuring me out. I think it's just because I'm so weird

I will like some things about moving: Being near Christina, and Di and Steph, fresh citrus, NO FREAKING SNOW, excellent ethnic dining, meeting new people and making new friends, having a real paycheck with an actual salary and being able to do fun things with it on occasion, family babysitters we can trust, fixing up a new house-we've done about all that can be done to this one without major structural changes.
OK, so now that you know how I really feel, what do you think?

The Problem With Blogging

The problem with blogging is two fold: first, I'm unwilling to put into writing on a blog anything that isn't profoundly witty or at least mildly funny, and second, I'm unsure of who, if anyone will see it so I'm guarded in what I say which severely limits the witty/funny topics on which I can pontificate. It's a conundrum, to be sure. I'm not positive this blog will last more than a month.
Perhaps after the baby comes and I can post pictures of him along with anecdotes things will be better.

High Quality Mud

Who thought up this con? Genius, I say. Get rich people to pay lots of money...to sit in mud. I hear it's high quality mud, but what does that mean? I played in mud as a kid and it seemed like perfectly good mud to me, but then I'm not a mud connoisseur. Matt says maybe it's high quality because they take the rocks out first.
I have to admit that I would never pay money to sit in mud. In fact, I would pay money NOT to sit in mud. If I were ever coerced into mud-sitting the entire time I would be thinking 'I'm dirty! I'm dirty! I'm dirty! Get me OUT!"
Not that I'm a mud-a-phobe. I like it just fine...outside on the ground under the grass and away from my person and my floors.
The End :)