Saturday, July 30, 2011

Confession Time: I Didn't Breastfeed

Upon having my first child, I had every intention of nursing. I'll save you the details of the experience, but let's just say, it didn't work out.

I felt horrible. After all, I was pretty sure that every little choice I made at that point was going to mean something dramatic for my baby's future. And why shouldn't I? After all, there are about a million claims on the benefits of breastfeeding and a million more on the detriments of not.

I will forever be grateful for my pediatrician who at my child's three week weigh in said to me, "You know, your value as a mother does not depend on whether or not you breastfed." Thank you, Dr. A. That one statement was exactly what I needed at that point.

Again, with child #2, I didn't nurse. This time my reasons were more mental than physical, but I still felt guilty; I don't remember someone ever telling me I was a bad mom for not nursing, but I'm sure I told myself that a number of times.

My husband, of all people, found this interview this week on KUER, and if you care about this issue, have a good 50 minutes to spend listening (I folded laundry during), and are nerdy enough stand public radio, I would highly recommend it. Basically, this professor wrote a book about how most of the studies done on breastfeeding are largely inconclusive or flawed and in a shocking twist the Le Leche League Lady sort of agrees with her.

Note: Some of the callers are pretty great. My favorite is the older-sounding lady who claims that her one child who wasn't nursed felt left out. Wow, really? Or maybe it was because that child had a lisp? I'm not totally clear on this.

A little bit like Republicans and Democrats? The two sides will probably never agree.

I'm still a little unsure about whether or not to nurse baby #3. You are all going to think I'm a terrible, selfish, no good person for asking this (and maybe I am), but is it wrong to nurse for the boobs and the weight loss? Just a question.

Another Note: My husband found the article and showed it to me. He did not listen to it, nor does he care about this issue. He would want me to make this distinction, trust me.

Friday, July 29, 2011

Little Person, Big World

My husband is a foot taller than me. He says he's average height. I say he's tall. Tall would be nice except that he can be very difficult to live with as a tall person.

If a large height disparity between you and your loved one isn't a on and count your lucky lack of inches.

Here are my reasons. (For complaining):

1. Switching drivers in a car feels like you're back in driver's ed again--manually adjusting all the seat and mirror settings for at least five minutes before you can back out and actually get on the road.

2. As a tall efficiency-nut he insists on using the top eight inches of all of our closets (you know the space that is usually unoccupied above the tall stacks of games/shoe boxes/quilts?). He once installed a rod up there to hang his shirts above the lower normal height rod. Could I reach it to hang his shirts? No...and it was really too bad. It cut my laundry time down by at least 5 minutes.

3. When he wants to punish me (that sounds harsh, I should say "teach me a lesson," but what's the difference?) for leaving the cocoa powder on the counter every morning he puts it above the cabinets where I can't reach it.

And the worst of all...

4.  On our super nice tall toilet, my feet don't reach the floor. So what do they do? Dangle. I feel like I'm three years old every time I gotta go. It's embarrassing, but luckily, restroom going is not a public matter.

To end on a positive note, I should say that his height does come in handy at when I need someone to reach the cocoa powder above the cabinets in the morning.

Thursday, July 28, 2011

High Maintenance? Not I.

To girls who get ready every day, I have two questions:
1) How do you do it?
2) Why do you do it?
You see, I like to get all my errands done one day each week so I only have to get ready one day a week. Yesterday was errand day and I also had a bridal shower to attend so I wore something besides a t-shirt and lounge pants AND I curled my hair. Yeah, I know, kind of a big deal. And whilst I was doing so I thought to myself "self, this is an awful lot of work." I realize the end product is more favorable on the days I do get ready than on the days I don't - but do the means justify the end? Being the philosophical person that I am my conclusion is no, no they do not. It's a good thing I'm already married.

* If you missed Lindsay's post about becoming a blogger on Pear Shaped Thoughts and think you might be interested check out the information here.

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

A Peculiar Pregnant Person

I traveled this week to a far away land with the husband.


I could probably write an entire blog just about the differences I've encountered living in the EAST vs. the WEST.

Although I've only ever lived in 2 in the EAST (Virginia) and one in the WEST (Utah), I like to think of the EAST and WEST as two different competing All Star Teams in my head. What sport we are playing? I don't know...mommy field hockey? Mommy soccer? Most of my comparisons have to do with being a mom or the weather, so you tell me what sport incorporates both of these?

Alas, I digress.

So my belly is getting progressively larger at a rapid rate. And to be honest, I've got so much on the brain about the move that I don't really remember that I am physically looking very different (for lack of a better term) these days. And let's remember that I live in Utah where you can't swing a dead cat around without hitting something pregnant.

Well, let me tell you, it took less than 3 minutes in an EAST coast airport to remember that I don't look normal. THE STARES. Oh man, the stares.

The weekend got worse as we went to look at our new place. The real estate agent casually asked me, "When are you due?"

When I told him he said, "I have a two year old; kids are a handful."

I responded with, "Yeah, I know, this is number 3 for me."

"Wow," he said. "Three?"

Later in the day we decided to go mattress shopping.

(Mattress shopping is awesome, BTW, it's great to get to just lay down to discuss a purchase.)

The sales guy (who was really working hard) kept saying stuff like, "You're about to find out that she's the one who'll be getting up in the night with that baby. You don't want her shaking your side of the bed. Trust me, I know. I have 4 kids. You've got to work in the morning."

At some point, we broke the news to him that this was our third child. And again, shocking look.

We went to dinner at a Mexican restaurant with a bar at the front and just happened upon what looked to me like, "Happy Hour." As we walked in to get our table, the looks said:

"Wait. Hold up. She looks like she's my age (which I'm assuming I'm around their age), but she doesn't look like the women my age, most of whom are rocking their tube tops and short shorts tonight."

That's right kids. I'm not like you! Did I mention this isn't my first, but my third child?!

At the airport to catch our flight home, the lady at the desk asked, "Is this your first child?"


It was so nice to return to Utah, have someone immediately call me "mam", and not offer to open any doors or help me with my bag.

They're most likely thinking, "Been there. Done that. You'll survive."

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Movie Review: Captain America

Since saying that I never go to movies on opening day, I've been to five. Go figure.

(I'm thinking that we should incorporate PST ladies. That way my new found hobby can be written off under the guise of "business" for reviews. Do you have to be making products and/or money to be considered a business? We make joy and laughter...)

This last week we saw Captain America for my husband's birthday.

The Review: On a scale of 1 to 10

Acting: 8
They were good, but it's not like they were given earth-shattering dialogue to work with so I won't be expecting any Academy Awards this year. 

Adorableness: 11
Please. Let's just take a moment of silence to soak it in. 

No-nonsense woman power: 10

Finally...non-scantily clad, opinionated, beautiful leading lady who can hold her own. What do you have to say for yourself Rosie Huntington-Whitely? I know..."Help, I only know how to bend over a car. I can't possibly problem solve on my own." (That was harsh, I know, but she asked for it. Besides, it's her fault I refused to review Transformers 3 this month).

All-American Heroness: 10

The movie stayed true to the sentiments of the era. This All-American boy can take out all of the Nazi's single handedly. Realistic? No. But that's what real life is for, not the movies. 

Inspirational Message: 10

A little guy + a big heart full of self-sacrifice, valor, and perseverance = a moving movie. 
I cried.

Overall: 8

A few slight corny comic-like moments, but that's to be expected. 
All around a great patriotic pick-me up that's worth seeing in the theaters. 

Monday, July 25, 2011

If I Were In Charge of the Runway This Season

Why is it that ugly clothing is so comfortable? It's a crying shame. Oh, how I wish they were in style...

The classic overalls. You know, it wasn't too long ago when these were in style, but to think they were ever considered attractive...oh how times have changed. Although denim up to your neck is a strange concept, they were oddly comfortable.

The best of both worlds: warm feet and easy to slip on shoes. I admit this is an awful look but it doesn't keep me from wearing the combination on occasion.

I haven't sported a sweatshirt with sweatpants since the elementary years. And they were baby pink, so yeah, pretty darn cute. Those were the days. Probably the outfit I yearn to wear most.

I guess "they" tried to update the sweat clothes duo with the velour look, but women took it to the extreme when they wore velour at all times and in all places.

I've never tried this lovely number before, but come on, what could be better? An oversized, shapeless dress in a lovely floral print. To answer my own question: nothing could be better.

Saturday, July 23, 2011

Craigslist Proves That People Are Nuts

I'm moving.

Across the country.

I'm in the market for some new furniture.

I've looked on craigslist or similar sites before looking to find a screaming deal or something that's sort of old and unique to furnish my new digs with.

Why do I bother?

People must think that other people are dum dums.

Why else would they advertise this:

as a "beautiful futon that looks great in any apartment or house."

Asking price?


You see, it's not just cars that depreciate over the course of 20 years.

EVERYTHING depreciates over the course of 20 years.

My point is the same in this special case:

where the word "vintage" and the crafty placement of pillows are meant to make these gems look like they are worth $450 in 2011.

My rules of selling stuff on craigslist:
1. Do not EVER ask more than $500 for something. I don't care that you bought it 15 years ago for over $2000; it ain't new.
2. If it's junk and you know it's junk, offer it for free.
3. If it doesn't work or run, don't bother.
4. Clean your space before taking a picture of the items you're selling. No one wants to buy anything from a dump.
5. DO NOT place your pet on your furniture, take a picture, and then try to sell said piece of furniture. Gross.
6. If it's ugly, don't tell others it's beautiful. In fact, if you're including a picture, do not use any adjectives to describe it at all.
7. Friends don't sell friends garbage.

And aren't we all friends?

Friday, July 22, 2011

Dealers Beware

We're in car shopping mode lately. You are probably thinking (along with every car salesman in Utah County) that we are in car buying mode. These are two very different things in our house.

We are shopping. We do want to buy, it's just that the distance from point A to point B can be months for us.

I've mentioned before that I'm a skeptical consumer, but when paired with my husband who has recently taken up KSL, KBB, and motor vehicle review scavenging as a hobby we are an absolute nightmare to sell a car to.

I'm feeling really bad about this. But not too bad to be pressured into buying.

We have been to every dealership within a 30 mile radius of our home. We have test driven more vehicles than I can count on two hands. I have some favorite salesman and some not so favorite (there are more of these).

In case you find your self in this predicament any time soon here are my tips:

1) Stay away from the 20-something sales dude with the fatty watch, cocky stance, and blank stare. He will not know the answers to any of your questions. Sometimes he will make up answers and he doesn't know anything about the vehicular concerns of women.

2) Take a smart phone or Ipad with you. During the test drive, double check KBB values, KSL options, and take pictures of you driving in super hot cars to post on Facebook like you own them. All of them. (Kidding).

3) Do not let your husband sneakily trick you into wanting a car that can't handle itself in the snow or one that cannot fit a baby seat in the back. Mine can be very persuasive, so I have to be on my A game folks.

Thursday, July 21, 2011


I'm not going to lie, I'm drawing a blank on what to post about today so I'll just share a few observations I've had lately...

* I've been eating an unorthodox amount of macaroni and cheese
* It's a creepy feeling when someone is coveting your church calling
* Summertime ain't what it used to be
* Ain't ain't a word and you ain't supposed to say it
* Movie theatres (Cinemark) shouldn't charge a 2 year old who sits on your lap the same price for a ticket as an adult
* I'm in that awkward pregnancy stage where I don't look pregnant but I do look like I've just polished off a box of donuts
* I have a weird thing for Ames (Bachelorette contestant)
* Hot dogs are good in a gross way
* Contrary to popular belief you can lead a normal life even if you haven't seen all the Star Wars (or maybe that's the only way to lead a normal life?)
* I used to think butter was good for you because it was made of milk, but now I'm finding out it's made out of cream which makes me think it's not good for you

That's all

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

A Date From Down Under

Nope. Not Australia.

I really wish I had either gone to Australia on a date or dated an Aussie (mainly for the accent) back in my dating days, but ‘tis not so.

I’m talking about the Underworld, Hades, or for the more liberal of you, Hell.

I used to think that there was a limit to what kinds of theme dates people could come up with in Provo, but after experiencing a date where “Hell” was the theme, I realized I thought wrong. So what does a date where “Hell” is the theme look like? Let me tell you. (Note: I’m not kidding or exaggerating on any of this...all true).

*First of all, you’re instructed that the only colors you’re allowed to wear are black and red.

*Then you go to some old house where the dudes have decorated with fake blood splatters and crate paper that spells out the word “Hell” all over.

*You eat pizza with “Hell” spelled out in pepperoni.

*You’re peer pressured into bobbing for apples even though the gal who went before you had 5 inch thick makeup on, or at least she did before she stuck her entire face in the water right before your turn.

*You make gingerbread “Hell” houses.

*You all go around in a circle and tell your worst date or "Date From Hell" story (I couldn’t use the current date I was on) and somewhere in the story you have to use the word “Hell". It’s fun when everyone uses “Hell” as a place in their stories (and I’m guessing for the first time in their lives), but when you use it as a “swear word” no one laughs, they all just sit there in unbelief.

*You watch “Bedazzled” starring Brenden Frazier, but secretly, you don’t watch at all because you’re too busy staring out the window, wondering if you’ll ever rejoin normal society again.

*Date lasts about 8 hours

I guess I have to give them props in the creativity department, but am I the only girl who when it came to dating, thought that creativity was overrated? There’s absolutely NOTHING wrong with dinner and a movie, Guys. NOTHING. I have yet to meet a girl who was appalled that a guy was taking her to dinner and a movie. That’s why they’re classics; everyone loves them.

So, you're probably wondering if I married this guy.

Are you kidding me?



Note: I apologize for swearing on this blog. This was a special occasion. You understand.

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Brotherly Love

This dating horror story mini-series is proving to be quite a trial for me. My husband "robbed the cradle," my almost-19-year-old cradle, and in so doing robbed me of horrible dating experiences. Not that I'm complaining...this is really the only time so far it has been an inconvenience to me.

So, I will be sharing some family favorites. My mom loves to tell this story at family dinners. It has a way of resurrecting long lost shame.

The year was 1984. My uncle was fourteen. He had a new girlfriend and with her, new found confidence. He invited her over to family dinner one night. He sat at the end of the long oval dinning table with his girlfriend to one side of him, and my mom (his older sister) on his other side. As dinner progressed he began to run his bare toes up and down his beloved's leg. (Bold move for a fourteen year old right?). The only problem was that his beloved's leg was actually my mom's leg and she was getting annoyed so she loudly said, "Knock it off. Leave my leg alone." He looked at his girlfriend, turned a pretty shade of pink, and confessed, "Sorry I thought you were Suzi."

My mom, and the rest of the family, hasn't let a family dinner go by without offering to play footsie with my uncle. Poor man. And to think, all of this embarrassment could have been avoided if he had just read the wikiHow on "How to Play Footsie." The rules are very clear.  Who knew?

  1. Find someone to play footsie with. It should be someone you've already flirted with (and who has flirted back). If you try and play footsie with someone who's not interested in you, they usually just won't play along, but some people will actually freak out.
  2. Sit at a table next to or across from the person. Your feet should be able to come in direct contact with theirs, without anyone else's feet getting in the way. Remove your shoe, and run your foot up to their calf and knee.
  3. Tap or push their foot lightly and playfully, then pull away. Do it just once and see how they react. If they pull their feet quickly out of reach, you might want to reconsider playing footsie. Either the person isn't interested, or isn't comfortable with foot play. If he or she looks around and says "Who just pushed my foot?" don't say anything yet. If they say it as if they're annoyed or bothered, stop here. If they say it in a lighthearted, cheerful way, continue.
  4. Nudge their feet again, this time a little more firmly and for a little longer, then pull away. Again, if they recoil, just stop. If they look around (perhaps after looking below the table to see whose feet just did that), give them a playful smile and maybe raise your eyebrows to hint that it was you. If they respond with a smile, or by nudging you back, continue to the next step.
  5. Tangle up your feet with theirs. This can include massaging their ankle with the sole of your foot and locking ankles (twist your ankle around theirs). Keep making eye contact and smiling. If the person seems distracted, pretend you don't know why and say "You look a little distracted. How come?" The person will probably feel a little embarrassed, because they won't want to tell everyone else at the table that you two are playing footsie, and that's part of the fun!
Personally it all sounds gross to me. "Tangled feet" and "twisted ankles" are not my idea of a good time, but what do I know,  I'm the inexperienced one around here.

Monday, July 18, 2011

Dating Disasters: A Miniseries

We thought it would be fun to do a little miniseries the beginning of this week and share our worst date stories. If you have one you would like to share and possibly have posted please e-mail us at

There's nothing more awkward about being a teenager than going out on a date with a teenager. Especially when they lack in the communication department (basically what I'm saying is my date didn't talk to me - the entire night). In my high school days I was on the student council and one of my responsibilities was to plan a couple of dances. So I planned a dance, a boy's choice dance, and got asked out by a boy...let's call him T-dawg. I didn't know T-dawg very well, but whatever. So he picked me up, didn't say a word to me. We got in the car and drove to a restaurant, didn't say a word to me. Luckily we were with other people in the car so there were others to verbalize with. But weird, right? I mean he asked me out. We ate dinner (not a word). Got in the car, or more specifically the minivan (some men just know how to impress the ladies) and it wouldn't start. We honestly sat in the parking lot for an hour and a half waiting for the driver to start the van. I suggested that we call his parents but my advice went unheeded and we all waited while the van engine turned over and over and over...Do I need to mention that the whole time we waited T-dawg didn't talk to me? Because he didn't. Finally the minivan started up and we got to the dance with about 15 minutes left before it was over. We had time for a few dances and you'll never guess what happened while we slow danced.

He sang.

In my ear.

And then never talked to me again.

Saturday, July 16, 2011

Garnishing Raw Meat ( I NEED YOU!)

I've covered many a topic since starting this blog, but this may be the most lame.

So it's come to this?

Why do some grocery store ads garnish raw meat?:

They know you can't eat that yet, right? Do they also know that they've now ruined those vegetable garnishes with contamination?

So you can see that I'm needing some help in the posting department. Actually, I'm looking for someone to cover one of my posting days (either Wednesday or Saturday) in the upcoming months (moving, having a baby, etc.). So if you're interested in having a once a week PST spot/think you have some killer post ideas/want to get creative and avoid your laundry a little, let me know. All you need to do is e-mail us at pearshapedthoughts(at)gmail(dot)com. If you've guested for us before, feel free to ask for a permanent spot if you want it. Our guest posts have been awesome. Also, I know that Kasey (pregnant) and Erica (starting grad school) are possibly looking to give away some of their "shifts" too. So there's room for more than one new contributor. Besides, it's probably time we spice things up around here a little.

Friday, July 15, 2011

Ice Cream Imposter

Sometimes it's hard for me to believe that there are people in the world (even close friends and family. Gasp!) who go out to get ice cream and leave with a non-chocolate concoction. 

That being said, my many years of ice cream indulgence and exposure to strange jelly belly flavors has taught me that sometimes even the weirdest sounding creations can be sweet treats too. 

This is why, when I made my most recent visit to Cold Stone Creamery, I braved the new Strawberry Basil flavor. I'll admit, I saw the label and did a double take. What the? It sounds disgusting right?

So naturally, I tried it. 

Gold Cone - Strawberry Basil

I wish I could say this story has a happy ending. It does not. It was gross. One described the basil addition as "adding a sweet, grassy flavor to the ice cream." What? Who wants to eat grass? (Besides your toddler and dog. And let's face it, neither are connoisseurs of high quality delicacies). How does this sound appealing at all?  

It could have potentially ruined my ice cream experience if I hadn't had my chocolate laced back up. Apparently strange ice cream flavors are all the rage this summer, so consider yourself warned. I'd hate to say I told you so.  

Thursday, July 14, 2011

It's a Dog Eat Dog World...And That's What Worries Me

As a recent puppy owner I'm new to what is considered good manners when in the presence of other dogs and their owners. But I'm going to go out on a limb here and say if a person (me, for example) walks into a vet office with a crying toddler on her left hip (let's say because a puppy recently licked his toes and he didn't like it) and a leash attached to a crazy puppy in her right hand don't let your massive St. Bernard dog approach them. And don't think the phrase "he's really friendly" will make it okay. I could care less if he's friendly because 1) he's still getting my already hyper dog to act even crazier and 2) he's an animal - you don't really know every move he's going to make. I saw the movie Beethoven, I'm no fool as to the havoc a large dog can create.
And for the record I have a puppy not because I'm an animal lover, but rather because I'm a very nice wife.

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Baby Swimwear

It's summer time, and of course, that means that my kids wear their swimsuits as outfits 50% of the time. Because of this, I have to admit that for my girls I like the two piece swimsuits.

Mainly just for potty purposes.

It stinks to have to help your 5 year old pull up and down a wet one-piece multiple times a day that usually sticks and rolls in all sorts of weird ways.

I do, however, feel that the tankini has given us a nice compromise in the two piece "don't show it all" department:

I know, I know. They are just babies/kids, so why am I somewhat appalled when I see a baby wearing this number?:

Maybe it's because those triangle shapes on the top of any bikini are utilitarian and no baby has the anatomical makeup (if you know what I mean) that would necessitate them.

And every baby I've ever seen wearing a string bikini isn't really covering anything because the top usually ends up somewhere around their neck because of the aforementioned lack of anatomical parts.

And at that point they should just be wearing nothing but a swim diaper.

The thing is, I think I'd be less offended to see a baby in nothing but a swim diaper than I am to see one in a string bikini:

Is that weird?

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

To Have and To Hold

Husbands are great. 

Many a man out there loves a good sport and some hearty competition. At times some husbands may get a little carried away with their love of sports.

But after hearing about a recent sporting event in Finland last week, I think we're all sittin' pretty if our husbands aren't trying to carry us away.

A bum deal: The wives are carried around a course stretching about 250 metres

Until last week I was not aware that being swept off your feet by your husband was an actual sport. But it is. Wikipedia says so:
Wife Carrying:
Estoniannaisekandmine , Finnisheukonkanto or akankantoSwedishkärringkånk) is a sport in which male competitors race while each carrying a female teammate. The objective is for the male to carry the female through a special obstacle track in the fastest time.
Husbands carry their wives as they tackle obstacles including water reaching a metre deep.

The story goes that the sport originated from tales of a band of robbers in Finland in the 1800's who would steal a town's wives by carrying the wives out on their backs "Estonian style" as pictured above. 

(I don't get it. Why didn't the kidnapees just let go?)

Kudoos to the women who voluntarily do it today. Some ever wear these little speedos. 

Competitors taking part in the Wife Carrying World Championship competition in Finland

Now that is gutsy. 

Word-to-the-wise, if your husband's a competitive kind of guy do not let him know these competitions exist in the US. If you drive by my house and we're doing some funky laps in the backyard, please-- drive on.

Monday, July 11, 2011

The Things You Learn About Yourself at a Parade

Some realizations are harsher than others. This past weekend I had a particularly harsh realization. I'm old. And ornery. I went to a parade and a bunch of dumb kids kept standing in front of me. Normally I wouldn't care but I wanted my son to be able to see. I got up not one, not two, not three, but six times to tell them to move (yeah, that's how dumb...or defiant...they were). The reason they were up on their feet in the street during the parade were twofold: 1) they wanted candy and 2) their parents apparently took the "hands off" approach on parenting.
But let's focus on reason number 1. I remember being 9 years old. I remember thinking that getting free candy at a parade was of top importance (who was I kidding? All of my candy up to that point in my life had been free). I remember hating when old folk would get in the way of me having fun. And now here I am. The old folk. Sigh. It came on much sooner than expected.

Saturday, July 9, 2011

Classic 80s and 90s Television For Kids, WTC?

I was recently reminded of the following clip while reading an article that my husband showed me. I totally remember watching this classic from Sesame Street.

WTC? It's only as an adult that a girl, living in NY, taking her llama to the dentist seems totally preposterous to me.

Or how about this one:

Super heroes with smoker voices in drinking glasses? Yeah, I totally watched that.

Kids today don't seem to understand how T.V. worked back in the 80s and early 90s. There was no "On Demand", DVR's, or 24/7 Disney Channel. If a show was on that resembled something made for kids, you watched it simply because it was the only thing on! Not only that, but we all only had like 6 TV stations to choose from and if your family was like mine, you rented a VCR along with your movie rentals.

This period of T.V. was the golden era of "Chances are, they'll watch it no matter how weird it is. So what the heck? Let's just put it out there and see how it does." Other shows that came out of this era:

1. Alf
A show about an alien (who looks more like an anteater) who comes down and lives with a normal suburban family and is the funniest guy on the block. They tried for a while to make the dad funnier than Alf, but he was constantly upstaged.

2. Today's Special

Starring Jodie, a manager of a department store who wears the same outfit every episode and has a weird "thing" going on with Jeff, a mannequin who comes to life during the night. They're friends with Sam, an old security guard who despite looking like a human is actually played by a puppet. They all know and love Muffy, a mouse who lives in the wall and only speaks only in rhyme.

3. Small Wonder

A show about a human-like robot named Vicki who was invented by the father of the family. They decide to treat her like "one of their own" and are pretty sure that none of their neighbors will notice that she's a robot even though she speaks in a robotic voice. Things in this family aren't equitable, however, as they never give Vicki new clothes and make her sleep standing up in a closet in her "brother's" room. And for the record, her older "brother," Jamie, was really the creepy one.

4. Saved By The Bell

Sure. A show about a group of high-schoolers navigating their way through adolescence doesn't seem at all unreasonable from an idea perspective, but if we look a little closer, this show was ridiculous. First of all, they have an unhealthy closeness to their principal, Mr. Belding (Zack even delivered his baby on the school elevator). Secondly, there were only like 20 kids in their high school, in Southern California. Third, the same 6 kids are the glee club, drama club, wrestling team, cheerleaders, home ec club, prom king and queen, homecoming king and queen, basketball stars, girl pop group, knowledge bowl champions, and chess champions. Not only that but Kelly Kapowski could be arrested for some of the things she wore to school. And do you remember how they graduated, but then had a weird "super senior" season where Jesse and Kelly were gone and replaced by biker chic, Tory? Like we weren't going to notice?

Sidenote: When the husband and I were dating, we spent an entire evening recapping and laughing at every single Saved By The Bell episode that we'd each seen probably 20 times. That's when I knew it was true love.

So kids, I just want you to remember how lucky you are. It's not walking both ways uphill in the snow or anything, but as I look at that picture of Alf, it's pretty close.

Friday, July 8, 2011

I Swear I Was Just Saying...

...that my life has been a series of unfortunate events lately.

It's just getting laughable at this point. 

I got locked out of the house on Tuesday. 

In my swimming suit. 


The good: 
I had my cell phone. (It's necessary for timing when to turn over when tanning. Luckily)
I had my ghetto sunglasses from our secret service themed girls camp.

The options I considered in the order I thought of them: 
1. Break into the house through the open kitchen window. I texted my husband, he said this was not a legitimate option. He doesn't want a bent screen.
2. Go hang out at my neighbor's house until my husband got home 5 hours later. Did I mention that we're new in the neighborhood? And that I was in my swimming suit?
3. Walk to my mother-in-law's house. She lives a mile away. I'm guessing I'd see a minimum of 10 people I know on the way there.  Too bad I was barefoot right?Ha! ...though we did have diving flippers on the back porch now that I think about it...
4. Hangout and wait until my husband could leave work to rescue me. 

I chose option number four, called my mom and had a nice coversation, and cleaned up the back porch. All in all I was only locked out for about 45 minutes. 

If your not cringing on my behalf by now, wait for the best part of the husband had been playing with settings on his phone over the weekend. He decided to turn on the audio reading of text messages so when I texted this in my hour of need:

"Oh no. Help! I'm locked outside of the house... In my swimming suit!"

Everyone in the cubicles next to him heard it too. Ha. Ha. Ha.

I can't wait for the company bar-b-que!

Thursday, July 7, 2011

The Thing About Leggings

Do I think they're cute?

Yes. Yes, I do.

Do I wear them?

No, I'm in my late 20's (like, really late 20's).

But here's the deal. If you're wearing a dress that barely covers your bum and you have leggings underneath, guess what? You're still only wearing a dress that barely covers your bum. So is it appropriate to wear to a funeral/church/meeting with the President/job interview? Um, no.

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

How the Wild West Does the 4th

Happy 4th of July to everyone! (on July 6th)

I'm still suffering from post July 4th hangover. It's not that I do anything spectacularly hard on the 4th, at all, but after staying up late partying at my sister's "Cul de sac of Fire," the kiddos and I are all a bit lethargic.

Sidenote: Is it just me or does it feel about 15 degrees warmer after the 4th of July no matter what the thermostat says? Or am I just pregnant? (I had to mention it! Just had to!)

Have I ever mentioned where my sister(s) live? Lehi. Anyone who grew up in Utah County knows that Lehi is our Wild West. Big trucks, sitting cowboy style next to your honey, and a special version of Utah Hair still exist when you hit Lehi Main although it's probably not as prevalent now as it once was.

We've been doing this "Cul de sac of Fire" thing now for several years, so why was this year particularly special?


And the cowboys sang Hallelujah!

I mean, let's be honest, the rebellious folk of Lehi have always done aerials illegally; this wasn't the first time I've seen them there, but it was as if everyone went hog wild now that they can. Seriously. We all didn't know what to do with ourselves we were so over-stimulated. We could see everyone's fireworks within a half mile radius.

And it was spectacular.

Sidenote: Do you think Evanston's economy will ever recover from this new law?

Tuesday, July 5, 2011


Those Dead Sea lotion salesmen at the mall never stood a chance. My husband hates shopping with me anywhere a salesman is involved. I interrogate them. I dismiss their gimmicky claims. I despise fads (mostly diets). I am the most skeptical consumer you will ever meet.

Why, then does this product seem so attractive to me?

Ladies, I'd like to introduce you to the HipSlimmer--designed to shrink your hips back down to size, or even smaller, after a pregnancy. No worries, I haven't jumped on the pregnancy band wagon just yet (but when I do this blog may need a new name..."pregnancy shaped thoughts" anyone?). It's just that I tend to over-read, over-prepare and over-analyze most everything I do (future pregnancies and children included).

There are many variations of this on the market.

Most notable is the Belly Bandit, which comes with rave reviews from real-life celebrity moms like Jessica Alba and Kourtney Kardashian who actually designed the high-fashion model depicted below. 

I'm sure all you mom's out there are rolling your eyes and wishing me luck. I would be too. Usually. Unfortunately, I think there is just enough vanity in me to give it a go.

What have I got to lose? Future baby belly? Hopefully. Social self-respect? Yes.

Even if I do give-in and try these, I will never admit it publicly and I will definitely not be sporting this accessory in waking daylight hours for all to see.

Isn't it kind of oxymoronic to wear something this hideous while trying to improve your looks?

I'm not that desperate.

Monday, July 4, 2011

Extreme Living

We see extreme people every day of our lives, but some are just plain easier to understand than others.

There's the extreme athlete who thinks it would be a fun idea to ride their bike up a freakin' mountain. Crazy but admirable.

There's the extreme animal lover who rather than letting pets go homeless takes 20 cats into their own home. Gross but nice.

And then there's the extreme potty trainer who is so set on getting her kid to potty train that she has her two year old tote her potty chair everywhere she goes. Including church. Weird and unsanitary.

And did I mention weird?

Saturday, July 2, 2011

Sorry Sushi; I Don't Get You

I've been doing an unusual amount of eating out lately, so I've got it on the brain. This is because of two reasons:

1. It's summer, and while my thermostat is currently set to 68 degrees (sorry to brag Erica) turning on my oven/stove is the last thing on earth I want to do and the only grill I have is of the George Foreman variety.

2. As mentioned in just about every single post I've done, I'm pregnant. While pregnant when I'm given the option to not cook, guess what...I don't. I avoid it at all costs.

Again, I don't want to brag, but I'm great at eating out. G-R-E-A-T! One of my talents (you could call it that, I guess) is having extremely non-picky taste buds. I can eat and like just about anything.

One of the husband's non-talents is being extremely picky. He's notorious for it.

For a few years now, he's been in jobs/school where he goes out to eat nearly every single day. The injustice of this while I choke down whatever the kiddos left on their plates for lunch is not lost on me. After all, he doesn't even like food.

One day he came home and said, "We went for sushi today. It was gross. I think people just like it to be cool."

While it's true that the sushi phenomenon just barely came to Utah County about 3 years ago and is pretty trendy, I told him, "No, people really do like it. You're just not an eater. It's really popular." I made these statements without ever even trying it, but like I said, I like everything, so I was confident.

Then I tried it.

Yeah, I don't get it. I wouldn't say that it was totally disgusting, but it was a little bit slimy, lazy and generally unsatisfying.

SLIMY= A lot of it is raw. In my opinion, raw meat is just a little bit unsettling. I know that fish is pretty safe and all, but even the fish sticks my kids eat say that they need to reach an internal temp of 160 degrees, so do I really trust completely raw fish? And doesn't cooked fish taste better? Why then would we choose to eat it raw?

LAZY= Really? I paid for someone to cut my raw fish in a fancy way and serve it wrapped in bland rice with a few colorful veggies? Get this guy on the Food Network, I'd love to cook like him!

UNSATISFYING= Sushi is healthy a lot of the time and I'm not one for gorging yourself or anything, but the point of a "meal" is not to leave feeling hungry or deprived, and then wonder what you just paid for.

People will say, "You just haven't had GOOD sushi." You're right. The sushi I had was far from good (it was sure pricey enough to be good), but I'm not waiting around for GOOD sushi. I'd rather not waste my time. For now, I'll continue to eat with the uncool.

Friday, July 1, 2011

This Season Not Without Side Effects

I really have nothing of worth to say today.

I'm going to blame it on the heat. My thermostat read 87 on Tuesday.

I don't think that anyone is capable of having an intelligent thought at this temperature (at least not someone who has been pampered their whole life by central air).

It is also the reason why if you come to my house today, I probably won't answer the door. I'm either hiding behind the couch in my indecents or in a puddle. Either would be embarrassing for you to observe.