Friday, August 31, 2012

The Dreaded Hairdresser Break Up

As much as it pains me to admit this, hair is a big deal. I wish it weren't. This is 2012 for crying out loud! Shouldn't we be over hair by now? And maybe you are over hair and resigned. I haven't reached that point yet. I still want to walk out into the world feeling as confident in my appearance as I possibly can, and good hair does wonders for this woman.

So why is ditching a hairdresser so hard? I don't have a problem going to a new mechanic. It's never phased me to try out a new doctor. I switch grocery stores all the time. I don't just shop at the same clothing store if I don't like the product they are giving me. But with the hairdresser, it's personal.

One problem is that you have to sit in that chair and discuss your life and their life for a few hours. That's longer than most first dates I went on. Maybe you aren't bffs, but you sort of feel like you know them after sitting there for that amount of time. And after having your hour + long conversation, they know you well enough to see you somewhere and notice your new hair and that you didn't come back to them. OUCH. That's got to sting a little.

I'd assume that if you are a hairdresser you have developed a rather thick skin. You've got to understand that people are different; people's style is different; people's preferences are different. Some of us like skinny jeans, some of us don't. Some of us like heals, some of us like flats. Some people like Gene hair, some people like Janessa hair (I actually don't know anyone named Gene or Janessa).

So here's a form letter, I've come up with to help all of you out there trying to break up with your hair person (feel free to copy, paste, and mail/email):

Dear ___________,

I am writing to inform you that I'm going to be taking my business elsewhere. The problem is that (circle one or more: I don't like the way you cut/color my hair, I think you are weird, you are too pricey for me, you take too long, you don't take long enough, you were doing 4 people's hair at once, your magazine selection was the pits, it got really awkward when ___________________.) Don't take it personally. It was nice getting to know you. If we should happen upon each other in the future, I give you free license to be nice to my face and then tell everyone at the salon how bad my new hair looks.


See?! Now was that so bad?

After my recent move I have decided that I have a strict (new) policy that I am not going to get my hair done by anyone that I know and love outside of getting my hair done. And if they are in my ward/a neighbor/will be seen at least weekly, forget it! This is not to say that I have not been very pleased with the haircuts/color that I have had done by friends and family members in the past; it's just that if I have to break up with someone that I already love, it's going to crush both of us. I'd just rather not go there.

Thursday, August 30, 2012

Weirdo Baby Names

Let me preface this post by saying that I’m not trying to offend anyone when I offer my opinion here. So if your child has a weird name my apologies to you… and your child.
Okay, so when you name your children, do you think about it first or do you just name your child the first sound you sneeze out? You know, you have a tickle in your nose shortly after birth and ‘LaFoyash’ is the sound you make. And you think, ‘That is such a beautiful name! Let’s use that!’

Here’s some things to avoid:

·         A first name that rhymes with your last name. Or is essentially the same name. John Johnson. No!

·         A name your child is going to have to spell for the rest of their life. If you want to name your child Tracey, just spell it normal. Trayci won’t seem so cool to your fifteen year old daughter. I actually met a guy whose name James was spelt Jaymz… So weird.

·         Inanimate objects. No you should not name your child Spatula just because you like the word.

·         Words that have rude connotations. Let’s not name our sons ‘Wang’, okay?

·         Names that require punctuation to be sounded out. For example, Le-a. You’d think it would be pronounced like Leah, right? Nope. Ledasha. Really?!

·         Onomatopoeia – you know words with meanings the same as the sound. Crash, Splash, Bang, Boom. Let’s avoid them.

·         Names of drugs. This goes without saying.
You know about the baby for generally around nine months before it arrives. Sure you might not know the gender, but you can plan something sensible. Someone let the celebrities know.

Jermajesty, Sage Moonblood, Moxie Crimefighter, Pilot Inspektor… yikes.

Wednesday, August 29, 2012

This Little Light of Mine

Remember back in June when I said I was going to make this:
Well, all you naysayers - I did it.  Just kidding, no one naysayed me.  But you might have, if you knew how often I started but never completed projects.

Before the unveiling, which looks pretty much like the above picture so don't get too excited, I am going to address some frequently asked questions.  And by frequently asked questions I mean the only question that has been asked.
Q: How much did it cost?
A: Well, let's say you already owned a circle paper punch.  I used 3 rolls of wax paper at approximately $2.50 a roll and an old lampshade I bought at the D.I. (similar to Goodwill) for $1.  The grand total being = $8.50.

Let's say you didn't already own a paper punch so you purchased one at Hobby Lobby with a 40% coupon for a total of $10.  Now imagine that although you are normally an organized and level-headed person you have a tendency to misplace things, including but not limited to recently purchased paper punches.  So being forced to buy another punch you suddenly find your total to be $28.50 (two paper punches + wax paper + lamp shade). 
But just to make myself feel better I like to subtract the price of one of the paper punches since it will most likely be used on other projects so it wouldn't be accurate to add the entire price to one project.  Bringing the total down to $18.50.  Which isn't bad, considering that the "boob lights" at home improvement stores costs about the same.

Can you tell I'm a tightwad?

Without further ado...whoomp, there it is:
I put it in my baby girl's nursery.  I'm happy with the end result and totally think it was worth the $8.50  $18.50  $28.50 it cost me to make.

Tuesday, August 28, 2012

Color Copy

Sometimes it's cute when twins match, right?  Or possibly two brothers that are close in age or two sisters?  Yeah, I can get behind that from time to time.  But generally speaking, I find it fairly offensive to the fashion world when a mother and daughter wear matching outfits.  

I got thinking about this today as I was dressing myself in the changing area at the gym and realized I happened to wearing the exact same gray colored shirt and blue jean short that I picked out for my daughter earlier that day.  Good thing I didn't put her hair in pigtails today like I did to mine or they might ban me from The Gap.  

The only excuse I have (and it's a good one.  Really.)  is that I have three kids.  I've already got enough crap to think about.  

Monday, August 27, 2012

Mind the Gap

When my husband and I first got married I taught the seven year-olds at church. One week the lesson was on families. We talked about how blessed each child is to be born to loving parents who take care of them in their most dependent state.

At one point in the lesson I planned to show a picture of my family (which was only my husband and I at that point), and then have the children share pictures of their families with the class.

I held up the small picture found in our wedding announcement and pointed to myself saying "this is me" and then pointing to my husband I asked "who is this guy? Does anyone know him?" Some shook their heads "no" and one girl in the corner of the class room shouted "Your Dad" in all seriousness.

There are a handful of years between us, but certainly it's not that bad!

Saturday, August 25, 2012

Homeschool: Let's Go There

There are a few topics that get moms all riled up and bent out of shape. Some of which are breastfeeding, birthing options, and educational choices. If you're at playgroup and you're feeling like things are a little too "chummy", bring up one of these topics, and even if things remain civil they will, at best, get awkward. Why is this? Because we all want the best for our kids, and if someone dare imply that what we do isn't the best choice for us or our kids, watch out!!! Mother Bears protect their cubs and will fight to prove it!

So it is with great hesitation that I bring up this topic. Before I go here, let me put a disclaimer on this entire post: I recognize that every child is different and has different needs. Let me also say that every mom is different and has different needs and goals for their children. We are all trying to do what's best and what's best for one, may not be best for all. You should also know that I am a former public educator, so yeah, I'm a little biased.

My oldest child goes to first grade on Monday. I used to teach kids her exact age, and while I am slightly nervous (new school, new teacher), I am also really excited for her. I LOVE the first grade. I love how old the kids think they are, and the funny things they say, and how much they learn at this age, and how they still want to give their teacher gifts and hugs, and how excited they are for school (well, most of them), and how they walk in little kids and leave "not-so" little kids, and how they all want to lose teeth REALLY BADLY. All these things just bring a smile to my heart, so when I hear that someone is going to be homeschooling, my natural instinct is to feel that they may be missing out on something. So, here is a list of reasons I choose to send my daughter to public school.

1. For learning. Do I think that a teacher knows more than I do about how to teach my 6 year- old how to read and write and do math? No. I don't. I am confident that if I had 4 to 5 hours/day of educational time to sit down with my daughter and work with her one on one, she'd probably be just fine educationally. But guess what, I don't. There are meals to prepare, a house to clean, laundry to do, trips to the store to make, a baby to care for, a calling to handle, etc.,etc. (I do, however, know that teachers are more trained in current teaching methods, and if we get to high school then yeah, a calculus teacher knows a whole heck of a lot more than I do. Even a 3rd or 4th grade teacher knows a whole lot more about teaching 3rd or 4th grade than I do.) I am not wonder woman. As a teacher I worked hard and put in a lot of hours. Those are hours that when I am home, I don't have. I am also a bit concerned when kids just start learning out of workbooks, which a lot of home-schooled kids do. Not only that, but on a number of occasions, I could not get my daughter to do things that she would do for her teacher. Teachers can often stretch kids further than parents can.

2. For social reasons. Last year when I went to pick up my daughter from Kindergarten, she'd walk out the front door, see me, and immediately she'd say a hearty good-bye to classmates, her teacher, aides, other teachers, etc. Heck, even the lady that helped all the kids get out of cars and into the school safely knew her by name. It never hurts for a child to have more than one adult who cares about them. I also love the fact that she was involved in a community of people. This is where she learned about appropriate behavior in certain situations, and how to handle herself around people who were different than she was (none of her classmates were Mormon, and it was a very diverse population of kids). All skills that I think are invaluable to kids. Did she learn some questionable things from kids on the playground? Yes. But guess what, I'm confident in the whole "in the world and not of the world" thing. We can still teach kids what is right.

3. For responsibility. School teaches a lot more than ABC's. Life skills lessons like: how to wake up and get to a place on time, how to follow a schedule, how to be responsible by taking something home and finishing it, how to bring something back to the teacher, how to follow directions, how to ask questions, how to study something you don't easily understand and work to understand it, how to meet a deadline. I don't know about you guys, but it is one diligent mom who can set up a time schedule and hold to it rain or shine, sick or not sick, on days when she's tired or pregnant, or when a kid gets sick, with babies and all. Just look at me and's pj's 'til at least 9:30 around here these days.

4. For my own sanity. I'll admit it. I love my children dearly, but at times (especially in the summer months), I wish I were Dad. Dad walks in the door an hour or so before bedtime, eats dinner with them, plays hide and seek, reads a few stories, gives hugs and sends them to bed. They IDOLIZE him. You'd think that Justin Bieber walked through the front door every day by their reaction. Not so with Mom. I'm the heavy. But when school is in, not only can I hear myself think at the grocery store (I only have one child there with me), but I get to give hugs and after school snacks, and say yes to a quick show (because they need a little down time). This all changes when I demand that homework get done, but for that glorious first hour after school, I AM JUSTIN BIEBER!! Absence makes the heart grow fonder for everyone.

It's true that there is a lot wrong with education, and I understand that not every teacher is fantastic, not every adult there cares, and not every school is cutting it. We can all point to times in our educational experience that were less than stellar, but even with all this I can confidently say that I, for one, still believe in school.

Friday, August 24, 2012

My ‘People I Want To Punch In The Face’ Book

Have you got one of these? A long list of names of people you’d really like to punch in the face. Maybe yours isn’t a book, I guess you could just have a list or one name written on a napkin.  

It’s actually something I’ve started saying a bit lately. It started a week or so ago when I saw a few comments on facebook from a guy on facebook (who has no children) accusing a mother of being overbearing because she didn’t want her child being exposed to pornography in public places. Fair call I think. There was nothing she, or other mothers, could say to defend their thoughts to change his opinion. He wrote obnoxious, rude, and callous comments accusing them of bad parenting. This guy clearly deserves a good punch in the face. I told him so too.

Then it became my staple saying. It’s like this imaginary physical release of frustration that makes me feel better. Rather than steam out the ears we go to pretty floaty ballerina. The imagary face punch is akin to punching a pillow, except that pillow punching is totally lame. Ever done that? So not helpful. Does NOT work.

So I'll stick with the face punch. Driver cuts me off. I want to punch him in the face. Overpriced dress? Face punch! Stolen wallet? Double face punch! Bird poops on newly washed car? Birdy face punch.

It’s a beautiful thing, don’t you think?

Thursday, August 23, 2012

My Hate/Hate Relationship with Cooking


I have a bad relationship with cooking.  I don't like it and it don't like me (I know, incorrect grammar).  Happily, I was able to avoid it most of my life.  Growing up I never had to take a turn making dinner which meant, being the egocentric teenager that I was, that I never offered to make to dinner, which meant I didn't know a thing about cooking. 

Then, when I moved out of state to go to college I had to live in the freshmen dorms and therefore eat at the cafeteria.  Which was awesome.  I gained 10 pounds. 

After my freshmen year I moved to another state to do an internship.  Luckily my older sister lived with me, and being the mothering type that she is, she usually made me dinner.  The few times she had to work at night I made my own dinner which consisted of throwing a piece of chicken on the George Foreman and making an entire box of chocolate pudding  - and eating the entire box of chocolate pudding.  No joke.  I kept on the 10 pounds.

I moved back home to finish my undergraduate degree which meant my mom made my dinners again.  Yay!

Then I moved out my first year of graduate school.  No money + no cooking skills = gross dinners.  I lost the 10 pounds.

And then I got married.  My poor husband had to endure two years of me learning to cook.  This was a skill that did not come naturally to me.  Therefore, we ate out a lot.  I gained 10 pounds.

Fast forward to today.  After 6 years of marriage I can finally say I know how to cook (sort of).  But I don't like it.  And it don't like me.

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Bed Bug Registry

I have stayed in some pretty crappy hotels in my day.  Hotels where I'm now wishing I would have looked up on this little gem.  

I learned about The Bed Bug Registry in my Young Women's meeting last night.  Which just goes to show you can learn pretty much anything, pretty much anywhere.  

Tuesday, August 21, 2012

When You Give a Mouse a Cookie

We've had plastic fold-up chairs and a hand-me-down tiny table in our kitchen for years now (5 of them to be exact) and every once in a while I casually suggest to my husband "oh how nice it would be" to have a table that more than 4 people could fit at and that had matching real wood chairs.

Well, he finally decided that he agreed and the time was right. So we buy a nice table, set it up in our dining room, and what do you know, it looks out of place. He said so himself.

It turns out that plastic furniture really lends itself to low expectations for the rest of the decor in a room. 

Too much time spent with late night HGTV got my wheels spinning and I thought of the new drapes, place settings, center pieces, runners, accents wall, etc. that would improve the situation.

My husband's recommendation? A hanging vine basket in the corner.

Monday, August 20, 2012

Cat Haters Anonymous

I really hate cats.  Hate isn't even a strong enough word.  I loathe them.  I'm not sure why I can't stand them. They really are beautiful creatures. Maybe it is because growing up we only had barn cats.  You know the kind that are practically feral and will claw your eyes out?  Yep, that is what we had.  They kept the mice out of the barn and pretty much took care of themselves.  I don't have any fond memories of dressing my cats up like babies and pushing them around in baby carriages.  I tried to like them.  I even got one as an adult to see if I could change my mind.  It lives with my parents and I still don't like it.

Well, this week has brought me to a new level of cat-hate.  A cat in the neighborhood is pooping in my kids sandbox.  And I hadn't realized it.  I had been playing in the sand with my kids, making sandcastles and digging to China....when I found buried cat poop.  I am pregnant!  Did you know you aren't supposed to be near cat poop when you are pregnant?!  I also have a toddler who pretty much puts his hands in his mouth all the time.  I am so grossed out on all levels...and panicking about the diseases that my toddler and two unborn children have contracted.

What should I do?!  (Besides the obvious of having some blood work done at my OB appointment this week.)  Should I talk to the neighbor?  Should I wait outside at night with a BB gun?  Should I lay out some rat poison and hope my kids don't eat it first?  Should I get a dog?  I already sprinkled cayenne pepper around the perimeter of the sandbox.  Apparently cats hate it...but I felt like I was out there doing voodoo magic. I also have a cover on it now (should have thought of that earlier).

Can't the stinkin' thing poop at it's own house?  Cats are so rude and inconsiderate.  I think that is really why I don't like them.

Saturday, August 18, 2012

Third World Love

My husband and I honeymooned in Fiji.

Fiji is a third world country, except for a few small parts they save for tourists to make you think everyone lives like that. First world for the tourists, third world for everyone else. We were there for 12 days and in that time we travelled around visiting and looking. We even met a worker in our hotel who was mormon – there must be like eight mormons total in Fiji so this was pretty lucky – who invited us back to her village to have a meal with her family and see the real Fiji. It was amazing. Just incredible to see how happy and content these people are without all the luxuries we expect and consider essential.
We blend in so well, don’t we?

We loved it so much we decided we wanted to live there forever. We got over that a few weeks later, but we really loved it and had a wonderful time.

But do you know what I did half the time? Cried. Yep. Cried and blubbered like a baby. For some bizarre reason, the whole idea of living in a third world country makes me sad. I know that is totally lame because these people are in no way as sad about it as I was. In fact, everyone I met was content. They probably earn in a year what we earn in a week. But they are happy. I found I couldn’t deal with the idea of only having dirt roads, and having to light a fire to cook my dinner, living in a tiny shack with my entire extended family, or not being able to drink water straight from the faucet. So I cry when I see others living like that. Just call me Blubbery McBlubberson.

  Grocery shopping - Fiji style

As much as it makes me sad, I want to see more. Know more. Understand how they live and take home a bit of that humility to push back the proverbial Jones’s and realize I don’t need to compete with anyone.
The fun parts of Fiji you see in the resorts.

I'm excited to see more of the third world. I'm not sure where to go next. India? Indonesia? (there's lots of I's in the names of these countries... perhaps a blog post for another day...) I'm scared and likely to cry! Any suggestions?

Friday, August 17, 2012

Skipping School

Things have sure changed since I was in high school.  And no, I'm not going to write about how I had to walk to school barefoot in the snow.  Uphill.  Both ways.  With barbed wire wrapped around my feet for traction.  What I am going to write about is this new fangled idea known as the "attendance policy" which is a nice way of saying "it's a whole heck of a lot harder to skip school nowadays."  How sad.  Some of my best memories of high school occurred whilst skipping school, or as we call it in Utah - sluffing.

Whether it was riding bikes along the park trail, singing along to John Denver records at my friend's house (that makes me sound older than I actually am),  driving up the canyon to play in the lake, or rollerblading to the nearby church parking lot and making up actions to You're a Grand Old Flag (I know, I'm your regular wild child) sluffing usually meant good times.  Good, good times.

Sorry high schoolers.  Not only do you have a bad economy to look forward to, no social security in your golden years, and an ever increasing moral decay in society, it looks like you won't ever be able to skip gym.  Ever.

Thursday, August 16, 2012

When It's OK to Cry

Being the expert that I am on crying (if an expert on crying is "one who cries about everything") I thought I'd create a list for you non experts and experts alike to help you in those "I don't even know why I'm crying" moments.  This should give you a better feel for the reasons it's okay to cry.

It's okay to cry if:

10.) Something was stolen from you, like your favorite coat in the 7th grade.
9.) The battery in your car died and you have three kids with you at the Library and it's 90 degrees outside and your husband can't come help because his patient is about to push out a baby.  
8.) it's something involving your children.  Whether it's because they are being so naughty you want to scream but can't do anything except walk into the bathroom, lock the door and cry for five minutes or because you love them so much and it's terribly frightening to see them gowned up for surgery.  All crying is fair game when it come to the kidlets.  
7.)  it's a spiritual matter.
6.) When you find a nice police officer to help you start your car battery because you are stranded at the library with three kids.
5.)  you are feeling grateful.
4.) you are feeling upset but not upset enough to yell.  Like when the Bishop calls you to serve in the nursery and you really don't want to but you do anyway because it's the right thing to do and you'll probably be grateful you accepted the calling in a few months.
3.) If someone was mean to you.
2.) If your kid called you stinky butt.
1.) You're pregnant.  Basically, you can cry for any reason imaginable if you're pregnant.  Like if your husband looses your chapstick or if your husband puts something in the wrong cubbord in your kitchen.  ahem....Linz.  And the people around you should give you hugs and ice cream upon making you cry.  Especially if they've lost the chapstick.

And there you have it.  Anything else you would like to add?Jami

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

Truly Random PST

Here is a random sampling of some thoughts I've been having lately:

  • Why do stores use the word "blowout" to describe a sale? I do not think I want to buy any blowout clothes, even for only $1. Thanks anyway Walmart. 

  • Can NBC seriously find no one better for the job than Bob Costas? He's a likeable guy and I know he's been doing it awhile now (9 Olympic games) but I think he's terrible at interviewing people. I hear Oprah is free. Or how about Katie Couric? Let's get a real hard hitter people. Or may even a real  comedian from the late night line-up. Anyone else really...

  •  I read in The Week magazine the following clip, "American swimming star Ryan Lochte admits he sometimes pees in the pool, and he has plenty of company. “Nearly 100 percent of elite competitive swimmers pee in the pool,” said Carly Geehr, a former U.S. Olympian. “As a swimmer, you just have to accept the fact that you’re swimming in pee.” I'm wondering if this is just one of the facts of life we all need to accept. Kids pee in pools, animals pee in oceans, lakes and streams, and apparently many adults don't hold back either. Should I still teach my kids to abstain...I'm doubting it. (Kidding of course...the ideal is still nice to hold on to).

Tuesday, August 14, 2012

Giveaway Winner!

After a very hard struggle to reach the bowl that my husband held way too high, I was finally able to snag a name out!  We have a winner!!  I am pleased to announce that Natalie has won something very cute from the Little 'Liza Lynn Etsy shop!! 

Natalie might be one of our most devoted readers.  She always leaves a comment on the blog and likes our daily posts on Facebook.  I am happy to say that I think she deserves the prize! 

So, Natalie, please select a prize of your choice from the etsy shop, figure out the size and color you would like and then email us the information (plus your address) at pearshapedthoughts(at)gmail(dot)com. 

Thanks to everyone who entered!  We love our readers!

Monday, August 13, 2012

Moving is can quote me on this

There. I said it. (And sorry to offend anyone with my language. I come from a long line of swearing women, so don't blame me. Blame my grandma...but she is a saint in every other respect so I'm sure the swearing thing will be overlooked, just sure!)

I've already apologized to the other PST contributors for my lack of a post last Tuesday. I was in the middle of a move and while I had knocked out three weeks worth of posts before I moved, I never did manage to get that fourth one in before I was completely without the internet or cable for quite some time.

When people hear how many times I have moved in my 8 year marriage (9 times), they always say something like:

"Well, I bet you're good at it!"


I am not good at it.

Every time I move I ('s not always my fault) make several mistakes. So just in case you have the bad fortune to move here are some things I have learned the hard way:

1. YOU HAVE MORE STUFF THAN YOU THINK YOU HAVE. For some reason, my husband and I still think we are newlyweds with nothing. A decade of renting has us believing that we are still 22 without children when it comes to our possessions. We needed about 10 more feet in our moving truck. (Rule of thumb: 3 feet of truck space for every year of marriage)

2. Schedule your cable/internet service two weeks before you move. They are always two weeks from getting you service and living in the dark age (aka 1996) is not fun.

3. When moving across the country and you only own Ikea and hand-me-down furniture, GET RID OF IT! Sell it ALL! I am now on my third set of furniture, and guess what, I don't miss one thing. You'll pay more moving it than it is worth, trust me.

4. Anything under $20 that is a space taker, can be thrown away.

5. Buy at least one more roll of moving tape than you think you need and at least 10 more boxes than you think you need. Again, YOU HAVE MORE STUFF THAN YOU THINK YOU HAVE.

6. Anticipating a move? Save costco boxes (haven't thrown out a diaper box in 3 years).

7. Just keep moving. When you think you can't unpack another box, spend some mind numbing time flattening boxes to save or throw out. It's productive, but you don't have to make any decisions about where it goes or what to do with it.

8. They may not be the most efficiently packed, but Halloween/Christmas/all holiday decorations belong in their own box/bin without anything else in them. (Funny story: My husband once thought that he was going to save us moving space by unpacking my holiday bins and distributing the contents throughout other boxes. I've never been so angry with him. This just inspired me to buy new holiday decor rather than search through a million other bins to find different Christmas ornaments. Can you see the problem here?)

9. I do not condone caffeine but...

10. Find something to entertain: a book on tape, movies, netflix, old Office DVDs that you haven't seen in 5 years (season 2 and 3 are classic). You need background noise.

I could go on because the lessons are endless, but if I had to give you one piece of advice, it would be that YOU ARE JUST FINE WHERE YOU ARE. If the move isn't necessary, don't do it. Trust me on this one.

Saturday, August 11, 2012

Character Clothing

I thought I'd never do a good amount of things before I had children.  And then of course I had children and I pretty much did every single thing I thought I never would.  That includes letting my child wear character clothing.  Ugh.

My opinion of character clothing has not changed.  They're still the tacky things they were years ago.  Nevertheless my son owns three, yes 3, shirts with Elmo on it.  And as much as I try to only purchase tasteful character clothing, let's face it, nothing with Elmo on it is tasteful.
And guess what my son wears every other day?
His old Buzz Lightyear costume from last Halloween.  He wears it to the store, to his friend's house, to the hospital to see his baby sister for the first time.  He wears it everywhere.  Although I do draw the line at church.  I do have some dignity after all.

And then there's bedding.  What's worse than a Disney character plastered all over your child's comforter?  Possibly nothing.  I did manage to compromise in this realm by purchasing character sheets, which happily can be covered by a bedspread of my choice.

What can I say?  I learned fairly quickly that it's better to see your child smile than it is to see them well dressed.

Friday, August 10, 2012

Olympic Sports I Would Never Do

What I am about to say is vain from every angle.  Every. single. one.  Regardless, it's the honest truth.

I would never want to become an expert in some fields of sports solely based on the expanse of muscles that are developed as a result.

Speed skaters for example.  Huge, gigantic muscular thighs.  I don't want them.  As far as I know, most women already think their own thighs are thunderous, so I don't see how getting bigger ones would help anyone's self esteem.  Well, maybe if you won a gold medal.  But that's pretty much it.

Weight lifters are next.  Big, thick necks.  I like separation from my head and my shoulders to be visible.

Then come the swimmers.  Really muscular, broad shoulders.  Are swimmers cool?  Of course they are.  But if I had those shoulders, I would look like those shrunken head people from "Beetlejuice".

That being said, I will go ahead and swap bodies with Gabby Douglas.  That, I can live with :)

Thursday, August 9, 2012

Alone Time

When in sunny San Diego a few weeks ago a strange thing happened when I took my baby out in public...people stared.

In Utah everyone has their own baby so they don't care about yours. In San Diego people in the grocery store would peer into my basket to look at my sleeping baby. As much as I hate conforming, when it comes to babies, I'm glad to blend in. It makes me feel a false sense of security probably. If everyone has their own, they won't want to take  mine right?

Well speaking of security, I was shocked when I read this blog post a couple days ago. Apparently it is totally normal for moms in Denmark to leave their sleeping babies in their prams outside of shops while the babies sleep outside. What!?

These Scandinavian countries really have it made when it comes to babies. Maternity and paternity leave that lasts for years and no baby nappers.

Wednesday, August 8, 2012


We are having another giveaway!  My very talented and lovely sister-in-law makes the most darling things.  So, for our giveaway this month, the lucky winner will be able to visit her etsy shop and pick anything! 

You could pick this.... (the hat, not the kid)

or this....

or these.....

To enter, you only have to do one of the following:

*"Like" us on the Facebook
*Follow us
*Post about us on your personal blog
*Put a button on your personal blog
*Put us on your personal blog roll

If you do all 5, you will get 5 entries.  Leave us a comment telling us what you did.  The winner will be announced on August 14th.

To see the items you can choose from, click here

Good luck!

Monday, August 6, 2012

A Tribute To The Tim Tam

Tim Tams are undisputedly the world’s greatest chocolate cookie. Australian cookie inventors are brilliant. 

If you are American and haven’t tried them, you HAVE to. But don't get the weird fake version that are being sold in Target and other normal stores, go to a World Market and get the real ones. If you’re Australian and haven’t tried them, you are unAustralian. And as we are in the Olympics and trying to do our country proud, I think it’s time we got a Gold Medal in Tim Tam eating.
Tim Tams help you feel good (how’s that for a marketing slogan?) Tim Tams are chocolate coated cookies; a layer of cookie, followed by a layer of soft chocolate cream, then another layer of chocolate. Doesn’t sound like much, but my goodness, is it ever. What other cookie can you bite off opposing corners and use as a straw to suck hot chocolate through creating a chocolatey, gooey, delicious delight? This, my friends, is called a Tim Tam Slam. Do it. Live it. And if you can, your hot chocolate should be Milo.
I’ve spent many a girl’s night Tim Tam Slamming. In fact I’m doing it right now.
Arnotts Tim Tams. You can get original, double coat, caramel, dark chocolate and a whole range of other flavours. My favourites are the original and double coat. You can’t go past the original. The chocolate goes gooey in your fingers just moments after touching them which means you have a delicious finger or two to lick once the cookie has gone. Tim Tams just keep on giving.
Anyone says no to an offer of a Tim Tam must be out of their mind and should seek help immediately. 

Saturday, August 4, 2012

Parenting Other Parents' Children

How do you feel when another parent steps in to parent your child?  I'm not talking about those people who throw out random, unwanted advise.   I'm talking about those people who correct your child for you when you missed them doing something naughty.  You know...those people like me.

Twice this week I've done it.  And twice this week I didn't feel bad about all.  Because when it comes down to it, if your kid pushes my kid or takes toys out of my kid's hand, even if they are only two-years-old, and you don't do anything about it, well, I'm going to.  Now, it's not like I take this kid over to the corner to issue him a timeout in a public place, I just sternly (and sometimes loudly enough so his nearby mother can hear) say "hey, don't do that."  Then, if they do it again, I usually stare at the mother for a minute and then say, "hey, stop it."  In hopes that she'll see what's going on.  

Personally, I like it when other moms do this for me.  Because as much as I try to keep my eyes on my children at all times, there are some things that just escape my notice.  But, how do you feel about it?  Would you rather they come up and tell you that your child did something bad and then you can handle it from there?  I feel like that whole process is just way to long and getting after my child about the offense at that point is almost counterproductive.  It's like, "remember that time 15 minutes ago when you hit that kid on the head?  Well, that was bad.   Don't do it again."  And your kid is like, "what are you even talking about?  I'm playing superheros right now.  Are you sure I hit someone?" And then I'm thinking, "Oh, maybe it was just a hug."  And suddenly my child is no longer a hitter, but a kind, gentle soul who only hugs people and trees.  You see...counterproductive.

Anyway, I'm just wondering how you all feel about it?

Friday, August 3, 2012

Tipping Point

While spending a few days in the hospital this past week (bless those kidney stones) I've had a lot of time to think about a subject very near and dear to our wallets--tipping.

Tipping is supposed to be a show of gratitude for service well done, right (hence the name "gratuity")? It seems to me that tipping has become a bit shady. There are all sorts of people I'm supposed to tip that I don't want to and people that should be tipped that aren't.

Why is it assumed that you will pay your waiter a tip? This seems like a weasely way for restauranteurs to get away with paying waitstaff below minimum wage. If my water glass is always full and you stop by my table only once (not 20 times) to ask how the food is, that seems par for the course. If you do something more, then I'm grateful and I'll tip you accordingly.

Hairdressers/Manicurists/Spa People
I always tip waiters because I feel bad for them, but let's be honest, hairdressers are making buko-bucks. Why am I giving them more of my money? If you're a hairdresser you're probably disgruntled with me, but your biased and I don't blame you.

Back to me being in the hospital. I had never been hospitalized before I had my baby three months ago, and since then I've been back 3 times. In a moment of wretched pain the best nursing care deserves to be recognized and poor nursing care deserves to know that it stunk. I know there are billions of dollars thrown into health care by Americans, but I'd like to throw some of mine towards good nurses. They put up with a lot of crap. Literally.

Teachers allow mothers a few hours of quiet sanity with no children at home plus they educate your children for you. I can think of no better service. And they aren't payed well. Shouldn't we be rewarding good teachers? I'd definitely support this practice. 

Who do you think we should or shouldn't be tipping? I'd love to hear your two cents...

To read more on tipping check these out...
The history 
Tipping or begging? Pushy tip requests in NY
Tipping around the world

Thursday, August 2, 2012

A Girl's Best Friend


We have all heard that diamonds are a girl's best friend.  Sure, I love a beautiful diamond as much as any girl.  In fact, I have high hopes for my diamond collection in the next few years.  However, I would have to say that shoes are really a girl's best friend.  I think I love shoes more than anything else that I could have in my closet.  When I see them placed neatly in little rows, organized by style and color, it sends chills down my spine.  The smell of new shoes is intoxicating.  And when they fit just right and you can wear them comfortably for hours (and they aren't ugly, old lady shoes), just about nothing tops that.


Here are the reasons why I love shoes and think we should all sign a petition naming shoes as a girl's best friend.  Move over diamonds.

1.  Can diamonds make you appear taller?  Only if they are in a tiara, which is pretty much frowned upon wearing to the grocery store.  And that is about the most exciting place I go.

2.  Shoes never make you look fat.  In fact, a nice pair of heels can minimize the appearance of your rear.

3.  Shoes are generally cheaper than diamonds.  Most women I know have budgets. 

4.  You can change your whole attitude by just slipping on a great pair of shoes. 

5.  You can express your personality by the shoes you wear. 

6.  You can go from frumpy housewife to a sexy date in minutes just by changing your shoes.  Mascara also helps. 

7.  Shoes provide easy variety for your wardrobe.

8.  Shoe shopping is fun!  I find it the least stressful of all the shopping.  Shirts have to hide your muffin top, jeans have to lift and flatter, shoes just have to be cute!

I love shoes.  However, I hope my husband doesn't read this because I still want him to buy me diamonds.

Wednesday, August 1, 2012

What Is It About These Men of The 70s?

I love my phone. I feel like it's my swiss army knife. It does everything and more that I need it to do; one of which is providing me with hours of listening pleasure via the Pandora app. (If you don't have it, get it.)

And what do I listen too on Pandora? Nothing that was popular in my lifetime. (What is wrong with me?) Why do I love music by men of the 70s? I really was born in the wrong era in so many ways. My latest listening favorites are as follows (and ladies, let's enjoy the viewing pleasure that are these pictures):

Neil Diamond

Elton John

Billy Joel

James Taylor

And my very favorite:

Cat Stevens

And now that I've revealed exactly how weird I am, raise your hand if you still want to be my friend.