So today was my long awaited "day of servitude". My birthday is tomorrow and all I wanted was a day of Blaine being at my beck and call, and since on Sunday I would feel guilty having him do anything other than read to me from The Good Book, I chose to have my day of servitude today. Watching a soaking wet Blaine chase Swiper and Boots around the yard and through the bushes in an attempt to give them a bath while sitting comfortably upstairs in my robe eating muddy buddies, is definitely my idea of a good time!
In the morning tensions were running high as Blaine and I realized that we had different definitions of "servitude". He was going to set up Christmas lights and make some repairs to our fence, mow the lawn. . .etc. I, however, was under the impression that the servitude should entail things that I normally would be doing-- bathing the dogs, bathing the children, going to the library, doing the dishes, mopping the floor, doing laundry, and most importantly doing all of this while holding Bentley (B is a big fan of being held, so much so that he screams A LOT when not being held). We did the mature thing and hashed it out and hurt eachothers feelings. It isn't that I didn't appreciate him doing all those manly things, but if he did all those manly things it meant I would still be inside having a normal day doing the things I do on a normal day.
In the end he pretty much ended up doing all of the above! He was able to put up Christmas lights, put chicken wire around the bottom of our fence (those dang digging dogs!), clean up the house, do some laundry, and keep Gwen entertained all day. And the most glorious part of all of this is. . . I got a nap! Really it turns out that that is all I wanted. Even if that was all I would have gotten it would have been enough ( but don't tell him that!).
So it was a great day. Tonight we were going to our ward Christmas party and I was all excited to make these awesome sweet potatoes. We were supposed to be there at 6. I was pulling the yams out of the oven at 6:15.. . . and they were hard as rocks still. Yikes. So we nuked them. Still rock solid. Nuked them some more. Finally at 7:05 we were ready to leave. At that point I had to stop and ask myself if I really thought the yams would get eaten since it was likely that the party was over already. What to do. . . . should we have just bagged the yams and gone out for a nice birthday dinner?
I felt it my civic duty to go to the party with yams in hand (they called to remind me for crying out loud). When we showed up there were a few scraps of turkey on the buffet table and I proudly plopped my yams down as well. Blaine and I dished up our little bit of turkey and yams. Then a cute little boy (Cheyenne, I am pretty sure it was your son!) came and got a scoop. Then about ten seconds later the program was over and everyone was leaving (slight exaggeration), but I am pretty sure it was only the three of us that had yams. Whatever. I did my part :).
So I am thinking about baking the yams and having a yam-o-licious birthday cake tomorrow. What else am I going to do with ten pounds of yams? I thought they were good. . .
In other news. . . I finally got my wedding ring to fit back over my post partum fat finger. So that's good. And in an attempt to get a cool new hairstyle I butchered my own hair. It's okay, it will grow back.