First Date

Today I found myself reflecting back to my first date.

It was bad.

Really really bad.

*Richard and I had been good friends forever. All through Junior High he promised to take me on my first date when I turned 16. Well my sixteenth birthday came and he asked me out. By this point in time we weren't really that good of friends, and there had never been romantic interest at all. I was, however, quite interested in this nerdy kid in a couple of my classes, **Blaine. Imagine my surprise when I found out that Blaine would also be on the date, and he would be taking a super cool girl that he had gone to Jr. High with. It was going to be fun.

We had had a dating etiquette lesson in seminary a couple of weeks earlier, so I felt very prepared for the date. In the lesson we learned that when eating on a date you should order something less expensive than the person who is paying for the date orders. Fair enough.

So my first date was dinner and a movie. We ate dinner in the mall food court. I was starving. Everyone else was ordering their meals and getting settled at the table.

Well, my date ordered a soft serve ice cream cone. It cost $0.49. That left me with either getting an ice cream cone for dinner or filling up on saltines and ketchup packets. So I ate an ice cream and we waited for forty minutes while everyone else finished their dinners (and then ate their ice creams).

Then the boys went off to purchase tickets and I watched as my date asked all of the other guys if they had any money he could borrow.

Awwwwwkwarrrrrrd

I was kind of humiliated during the whole movie that he had to borrow money. I mean, if you don't have money that's fine, don't go on the date. Or if you do go on the date and need to borrow money, don't do it where your date can see you. It makes her feel really really weird.

So the whole date I pretty much spent my time wishing I were there with Blaine.

Anyway, it wasn't the worst date I have been on at all (that one involves my date eating spaghetti with no utensils ........and with no hands); but it really got my dating off to a shaky start.

What was your first date like? Good, bad, ugly?












*Name has been changed
**Name has not been changed

Kentucky Blues

So, the thing about edging your lawn with a steak knife is that it takes a really really long time. It's not just that either; because it takes such a long time you are way more susceptible to fire ant bites (they're baaaaaack). And also you can't help but notice that the neighbors are snickering behind your back. Oh, and it ruins your steak knife.

What's that you say? You're not supposed to edge your lawn with a steak knife? An edger.....oh, like that edger we have that cost us a hundred dollars last year and doesn't do a dang thing? Right. Tried that.

Nearly chopped off my toe, scratched my car and electrocuted myself all at the same time. All that and it didn't even edge the lawn.

The thing about Texas grass is that it grows sideways. I don't get it either, it has these runners that shoot out sideways instead of roots that go downwards. I have to apologize here if I am embarrassing any of my horticulturist friends. I don't know the appropriate terms....

I learned that Texas grows sideways last year when I attempted to edge the lawn with scissors. There were a ton of weed looking things hanging over the sidewalk. I grabbed one and yanked on it. It kept going and going and in the end it was about ten feet long and somehow by pulling that out it unraveled my lawn. It was weird.

So because it grows sideways and we haven't edged it in like six months it was kind of a tough process; and one that must have been pretty comical to watch.

All in all I think our lawn looks worse than before and I am short a steak knife. The neighbors all pay the professionals $60 a month to care for their lawns. They show up with ten guys, four lawn mowers and three edgers all loaded in a pickup, jump out, and have the lawn looking gorgeous in less than five minutes.

I am the kind of person that makes their milk last by adding powdered milk. Those kind of people do not pay other people to mow their lawn. Ever.

Moral of the story? Not quite sure. Except I guess maybe to buy a nice edger, or lots of really cheap steak knives. Or if you have extra money laying around maybe pay the big bucks to have the pick-up truck guys come. OR live somewhere where the grass isn't thicker than metal. It's up to you.

Again with the shameless plugs....

Please skip over this post if you are sick of hearing about ebates, but the thing is they gave me $18 to sign up for Netflix. I think you could even get the 18 if you just do the free trial. How cool is that? Plus it was like $15 to sign up for blockbuster. Or if you have procrastinated your taxes you can get 12% back for taxcut or turbotax. I totally didn't even think to look for that when I did my taxes. I swear up and down this is the last time I will mention it. Swear. Oh yes, and also you can get 15% back from restaurant.com plus they give you a coupon code so the $25 gift certificates that are normally $10, yeah, you can get them for $4. Oh and it works for all of your online photoprinting websites too, who doesn't use those.

No more shameless plugs. Sorry.

You can sign up here if you are interested.

Who knew?

So not only did Ralphie rock our stake's Easter concert (this girl has got an amazing voice!), she also took some awesome pictures of my kids today at the park. Had I known it was going to be a photo session I would have washed my hair, and Gwen's....and wiped the slobber off of Bentley's chin. She is an amazing photographer, incredible vocalist, and most of all a perfect friend!

Check out the pictures

Churchill

Remember that quote by Winston Churchill (or at least I think it was W.C.) that says, "Never, ever, ever give up." Well, I have ammended that quote today to be more applicable to my live.

Never, ever, ever give your kid a bath after eating prunes. Ever. Even if you took the precaution of waiting for them to poop before you give them the bath. Leave that diaper and those pants on for at least a solid 24 hours.

I thought I was being smart. Ben hadn't pooped in a really really really long time. So I gave him some prunes. Being the savvy parent that I am I knew I should expect an explosion within a couple of hours. It came (in less than an hour) and it was a doosy, but I was prepared. However, after he pooped more than I thought was humanly possible I decided to strip him down for a bath.

And well......now I have to wash, if not replace, our bathroom rug. And my favorite pair of jeans.

Oh, and even after that little "aftershock" when I thought nothing else could go wrong. He had the gall to pee all over in the tub. Classic.

It would rival the San Antonio incident, but at least we were in the safety of our own home. Thank goodness.

So don't say I didn't warn you. Never, ever, ever take the diaper off of a child who has recently eaten prunes. Ever.

Step forward

Oh, and while I am at it (you know....writing blog posts at five in the AM)...will the person who consistently reads this blog from Oxfordshire please step forward and make yourself known? It's kind of driving me crazy not knowing who my frequent international visitor is. Paranoid as I am I kind of assume you might be a terrorist, but I'm not sure, so.....anyway, thanks in advance.

Easter

We had a pretty interesting Easter this year, resulting in Blaine having some awesome deep thoughts. He wrote a blog entry for his family's blog....but I thought I would post a link to it on here because it was awesome. It is also long. So if you have a moment and want to check it out please do and let me know what you think....

http://thebawb.blogspot.com/2008/03/our-almost-missed-easter.html

P.S. My husband is awesome.

P.P.S. Don't make fun of me because we ate leftovers for Easter.

P.P.P.S. Please don't ask Gwen if the Easter Bunny came to our house. He didn't. Long story.

Mormonad

Remember the mormonads that used to come in the New Era? Maybe they still do, it's been a while... anyway, my little parsley plant is displaying mormonad-ish qualities (my first inclination was to just dismiss this particular parsley sprout as an over-achiever, but something tells me I should log it away in my memory for church lessons and motivational speaking opportunities). Anyway, submit your mormonad to go with this picture in the comments....the winner will get to eat the said parsley sprout. Lucky.

What's the consensus?

I need a little help with the whole Easter Bunny thing. I don't really get it. So far today I have been asked the following questions by Gwen


1- What is the Easter Bunny's name? I answered Peter Cottontail, is that right? I remember a song about Peter Cottontail hoppin' down the bunny trail or something...

2- Where does the Easter Bunny live? Uh....Bunny Land..... I guess.

3- Where is Bunny Land? well, next to the North Pole of course!

G: But bunnies don't like snow
Me: Well it is warm in Bunny Land
G: but it is cold in the North Pole
Me: well, just because they are by eachother doesn't mean they are the same temperature....

4- How did the Easter Bunny get to Wal-Mart? On his bicycle.

G: Bunnies ride bicycles??
Me: Yes.

Help. Seriously, it doesn't help either that they have those pre-filled Easter baskets at the store. She had loads of questions about those. So now our version of the Easter Bunny is a bicycle riding bunny who lives in the North Pole and buys candy at Wal-mart to bring to our house and then takes the eggs that we colored and hides them. Oh yes and he also has the moms pick out the Easter dresses and he pays us back later. What a weird bunny.

I was not well equipped to handle Easter this year. How I am supposed to play the Easter Bunny when Gwen is always with me?

What were your Easter traditions? I am considering bagging the whole Easter Bunny thing before I mess it up so bad that he blows Santa's cover. What do you think?

Might as well face it....(for Janssen)

the anti-van

So, what do you think about this little number?

And what if I told you it was only driven by a 95-year-old man? I don't even think he drove to church, just to visit his daughter.....where he apparently ran into a pole on her driveway....

which resulted in this little ditty being significantly below blue book...

I'd love to hear your honest opinion, but before you tell me I just want you to keep in mind that though it looks like a golf ball or a car from the Jetson's, it also gets 40mpg. That's right. Bring on the $4.00 gas baby (well, not really but at least we could survive if it gets to that).

And goodbye minivan. At least for two more years. Guess I better not have any more kids between now and then; luckily though if I do I probably wouldn't leave the house anyway, plus Gwen would be in a booster by then so really.....I could have another kid and still be okay. And before you start freakin' your freak, this will be Blaine's car, not mine. So the brood and I will not be cramped in its small quarters, we will be living the high life in the Accord.

Good buy spontaneously combustable Cirrus. It was nice while it lasted. (For those who are curious, it lasted seven years (and three before me!) and 175,000 miles (only 90K from me). It took us to Oregon and back, Minnesota and back, and from Provo to SLC over a billion times. It was good while it lasted, but I just couldn't stand the thought of it catching on fire with my precious cargo in back.

Apology

I'm sorry I haven't blogged in a while. I have been having a serious battle with rampant sickness, searching for a new (to us) car, buying big boxes of cheerios for $0.70 (*cue the hallelujah chorus, cereal never goes on sale in Texas!), and trying to clean up this house so I can convince my sister (who is coming in to town tonight!) that I am a capable wife and mother.

When my sister came to visit us in Minnesota we all wound up being sick and pretty much bed ridden the whole time she was there. So when I found out she was interested in coming to Texas to visit I swore up and down that we would all be healthy. So on Sunday morning Ben had a typical little goober in his eye. Then in the middle of church Bentley had excessive, somewhat worrisome, goobers in his eye, then after his nap his eye was glued shut with goobers and all pink and swollen (very popeye-esque). The next morning the other eye had a little goober. Repeat the whole experience with the second eye. Poor guy has pinkeye! It was about the saddest little thing. Luckily he is the only one so far, but coming from the other child we have coughs and runny noses.

My poor sister, some vacation!

Anyway, the pinkeye cleared up amazingly fast (like a couple hours after getting the magic $50 eyedrops that, for all I know could be water). And we all seem to be on the mend today.

So anyway, lots of exciting fun things to blog about, but in the interest of keeping up appearances I am going to clean the house today instead of blog about my used car buying experiences (get excited because it involves a 95 year old man and a product called "miracle mist").

Oh and if you live in Texas you should go to Randall's and score some $0.70 Cheerios (except I think the deal ended yesterday), but if you live in Utah I don't feel bad for you because those kind of deals happen all the time.

The end.

Ummmmm

Choices

The brakes don't work. The windshield wipers don't work. Sometimes the airbag light goes on for no real reason (what does that mean? Could the airbag just randomly deploy...?!?), it makes weird sounds and vibrates if idling too long, exhaust spews out the back (which I am trying to counteract by recycling but still am overridden with guilt....even though it does still pass emissions...not sure how, but it did). It is time to seriously consider looking for a new car. Oh yes, I forgot the most important thing, the headlights do not work. Not in a way that can be fixed, like chasing the bulbs, but in some weird way that no one knows how to fix. Really, driving at night, or in shadows is quite horrifying. Sooooo........what to do?

We aren't big enough to justify a minivan. However, we will be soon (not that soon, don't get excited). The gas would be too much, the price too much, and I just don't feel justified in that yet. We can't get a new car because we will likely need something bigger in the next five years or so and if we get a new car it has to last at least like ten years. So, we're in a pickle.

I have been looking at crossovers, which are like mini-van meets car type things (but way cooler than station wagons). For example the Mazda 5. I think the Mazda 5 is pretty awesome, we test drove one last year when we got the honda, but it was (and still is) too much money (though less than a mini-van which is what we are considering). Or I also like the Chrysler Pacifica.

However, Blaine and I both have it stuck in our brains that you have to buy either a Toyota or a Honda to get a good car.

And we are both scared to buy a used car because we won't know how to fix it, should trouble arise. And we are both scared of negotiating with car sales people. Scary.

So. Please tell me your opinion, what would you get...new or used? Van or crossover? Now or later? I am excited to hear your thoughts....

Heart failure

I nearly bit the dust yesterday. Not only were severe storms in the forecast (which luckily they didn't actually come here again, phew), but I was stewing over the possibility of flying to Utah (and trying to figure out the probability that there would be severe thunderstorms going on while I would be taking off, talk about the sum of all fears) and while I was fretting about all of these things I got a phone call asking me to speak in sacrament meeting next Sunday.

Why don't you just pull my beating heart of of my chest. Three huge fears all going on at the same time. Excuse me? I almost died. Heart failure.

The good news though is that I figured if I was going to speak in church and IF the bishopric member who called me was being serious when he said they felt inspired to ask me (which I had to have my doubts because I think it may have had more to do with that Meleah knows I have dodged speaking for ten months...ahem.), anyway if it really was inspiration then how could I die in a tornado? It was strangely comforting.

On the same token though, maybe he felt inspired to call me to speak because if I fly to Utah I will die and so this would be the only Sunday left in my life in which to speak.

I can't win.

Anyone know any good psychiatrists?