New Calendar

I bought a new calendar today. 2010 "God Bless America." As obligations start bleeding into the new year, I'm running out of space for notes on my current calendar. The "Butter my Butt" one was *not* an option at Wal-Mart, but if anyone finds it, let me know how much it is.

There are two french sayings that I think of when plotting out a new year. The first one is a New Year's toast that says, "In the year to come, if there aren't any more of us, let there not be any less." I love New Calendar Day. A brand new chance for a brand new year. While perusing the $5 variety at Wal-Mart, the family was trying to decide between the beauties of America, tropical beaches, flowers, or Old Nauvoo. America won out on awesome photography and general consensus. Abigail made a push for Chihuahuas, Labradors and DEER. "But mom! You always point out the deer when we're driving!" Not in MY kitchen you don't. I'll take Mt. Rushmore and a salty bridge over a whole year of looking at dumb ole deer ANY day.

As I transition between years, I have to think if this is a freak-out year. Have we hit any certain milestones with expectations unmet; is it now too late to do something by a certain age? Nothing comes to mind. I got gray hairs and earned every one of 'em! I flip through the old tattered calendar, which like a pair of well worn shoes - the kind that is starting to rip and tear in places, and has definitely lost its glimmer - is looking really sad - especially when paired with the shiney new calendar. I flip through the months; good days, bad days, VT days, scouts, callings, short weekends, the endless house "to do" lists, and a sprinkling of doctor, dentist, and eye appts.

Each year, I'm handed a years worth of time, and it seems like so much. Then it gets eaten away with grocery trips, breakfast, lunch, dinner, laundry and sleeping. Some years less than others, but still. It's only when I step back from the rigmarole that I see that little by little, my kids have changed; I have changed. And it all happened in about a year's time. Kids lose that baby look, I can't seem to lose the baby fat, and I seem to be ever searching for when I can "just get a minute!" And it happens every year. Which reminds me of my second French phrase: Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose. The more things change the more they stay the same.

So, here's to a fantastic 2010. One day at a time, and full to the brim. And if you are planning on having a baby, getting married, or having a significant event that you need me for, say so now - the calendar is filling up!

Not All Advice is Sound

You gotta love this ad from the 1930's that says that starting your child early on cola will ensure their acceptance into mainstream America!

Despite the Cola industry's claim that soda can do wonders for your health, I am sad to discover that it can't remove the burnt-on popcorn from the bottom of my stainless steel pot. Aggie Mackenzie, from "How Clean is Your House" fame, said that if you boiled some soda in a ruined, blackened pot, that it would magically take it off. So I tried it. The bottom still looks like an areal view of London after a WWII bombing raid.

Why was I making popcorn in a pot? Well, you see, Alton Brown had said that the best popcorn didn't come from a microwave, but rather from your own stove top - experimenting with all kinds of kernels from "white" to "golden harvest." He failed to mention that when you see fluffy white popcorn bursting on the top, you might ALSO be burning the fluffy white popcorn on the bottom into unrecognizable pocks of yuck that won't come of the bottom of your pan. Not even with soda. Any advice? I have a blackened pot and now I'm out of soda. I'm afraid to tell you which one I am more sad about...

May I Have a Card Please...

This is my latest endeavor: putting genealogy on playing cards. I have been wanting to do it for awhile, but just... well, had this great idea, and no direction.

Now, thanks to a M.L.M. aka Multi-Level Marketing company (yes, I acknowledge all your boos and hisses), I found a place that sells playing cards that you can put ANYTHING on. Well, one pic on the back of the deck, and anything you want on the front of the cards. I went to a Heritage Studio party (yes, again, boos and hisses), and saw the deck of cards that had a family reunion pic on the back. Cue light bulb above the head.

Instead of face cards with the four suits, I am doing four generations on each side of our family. I've never seen it done before, and I am so excited for my kids to get to know their heritage. Each family branch gets their own colored background; Dad's side - red, Mom's - yellow and their children(my siblings) get.... ORANGE! :D Because red+yellow=orange. Okay, maybe too kitschy, but you get the idea.

What you see is my Dad's "Grandpapa," with a pic of his business card. I still need to add something about him being a sailor. I know that he had tons of tattoos including one of a ship that covered his whole front torso. If the family asked, he would flex his pecs to make the ship's flag "wave." I'm just not sure that I would... be able to put that on there - but what teenager couldn't relate to THAT ancestor! And NO, you may NOT have a tattoo.

I'll put a hole punch in the corner and string them all to a clamp so that they don't get lost, and then let the kids look through them for church. Or maybe when we're waiting in line for something, or when I tell a story about one of the ancestors,

"Your Great-Great Gramma "Momps" said, 'If there are TWO jobs in this town, I will have one of them!'"

She taught herself how to run a printing press when they were low on funds. My kids should know that about their ancestors.

The surprise in all of this has been to trace family resemblances through the photos. I'm trying to get pics of each ancestor in about their 20s, so you can clearly see "that Danish forehead" in each succeeding generation. I'm adding a flag for country of origin, and toying with an outline of the country as well.

The scary thing is that this has never been done before, and I am worried that I will think of a better way to do it AFTER I've pushed "print." Fifteen bucks down the drain. So, if you have any ideas, post 'em, and if you want to do your own, here is my upline -who will give me free things for your business-: Heidi Arave, heidi@storiesthatlive.com 1.801.491.0966

Yes, yes, BOOO HISSSSSS. You don't have to do it. You can do what I first did and try printing your cards on paper and then taking it to the copy store to hard laminate it. You'll still spend the same. I'm just trying to make my genealogy look a little "classier" on a deck of face cards. Hmmm. I wonder if my staunch Mormon ancestors would approve of me putting their images on a face card. Too late now! And, no, you still may not get a tattoo. Grandpa was at sea when he did that and his mom wasn't there to say "NO!"

Finally Famous

For those who don't know yet... I've been published! Well, that is to say, this blog has been published in "Raising Arizona Kids!" Okay, okay, just a post from my blog regarding medical binders has been published. For those wishing to skip past my anniversary photos, Baby's First Haircut, and sarcastic posts, you can click here to go straight to the post: Tuesday, April 28, 2009

For those who can't believe that anything in my blog actually got published somewhere... well, I don't blame you either. But here's the proof: Getting Control of All That Medical Information Ahhhh, I do believe it's time to get my spray tan and glue-on nails... possibly a wax, so I can greet my public! Enjoy. ;D

Not Dead... Just Resting!

In a family favorite film, "Ishtar," our heroes are in the desert, facing imminent destruction by dehydration - and the vultures are circling. Lyle says to a vulture, "Are you kidding! I'm still movin'!" And so am I. Not dead, noooot dead... just resting!

So what have I been doing for the past month? Well. Lots. Lots of family, lots of summery things, lots of screaming, and lots of plate spinning.

There are things, I have noticed, that impose themselves on a daily routine. Some are expected, like dental appointments, oil changes, laundry, and Visiting Teaching, and some are not. For things that were expected, you knew it was coming, and you just glance at the calendar and realize - oh, I guess that is today.

Then there are things that unhinge a day that weren't on the schedule, but need to find a way to be worked in. Like cleaning the fridge, or the car. You open and shut that door how many times in a day and think, "oh, not today... probably not tomorrow either." I tackled one of them today. It was a toss up between the windows in the van, or the fridge. Fridge is cool on a hot day, so it won.

I open the door to see white film covering everything, including the jam spill congealed in a very back corner and the crumbs from who-knows-what beginning to form a nice Mesozoic layer under the bins. I have been staring at such a mess for too long. The culprit is a leaky gallon of milk that managed to hit/leak on every surface level of the fridge as I moved two gallons around trying to figure out where the leak was. All I got was a jug holder bin filled with milk. GAAAAH!

So, today was the day to take everything out. I hate doing it. Bleh. Messy, cold, and always involving shelves that do not fit in my sink, but which need a de-crusting SOMEHOW. I am annoyed as I'm scrubbing, rubbing, and ultimately taking a bath in the back-n-forth transfers of shelves and bins.

After the inside is deemed respectable, the outside seems to scream "FILTHY!" So, I take another rag and start getting the fingerprints, dirt and I-don't-know-what off the door. The "piece de resistance" is the bottom gutter fan. That part UNDER the doors but above the floor. It has spots, it has grime, it has unspeakable layers of yuck. If I clean it off, I'll also end up doing the floor. Well. Not today. Probably not tomorrow. It's time to pick up the preschooler and prepare for a husband who wants to know what I did with all my free time. Are you kidding me! I haven't been just laying around, I'm still movin'! Nooot dead, not dead! Just resting.

Half, One, Two!

Now you know the secret to a HOST of divine cookies.

1/2 C oil
1 cake mix
2 eggs

Cook: 350 for 10-12 min.

My Sis-in-law Lisa made these with me, and oh YUM! I didn't know such wonderful recipes existed! And so fast! We did a lemon cake mix, with powdered sugar on top, but you can do that strudel topping, or frosting! You can make chocolate ones (add a cup of choc chips to make it worth it), strawberry ones, ginger-y ones! If it's a cake mix, you can make it into a batch of cookies in no time flat! Awesome for fits of PMS. ;D

And, with all of the time you save, you can get real creative, put two together with frosting, ice cream, peanut butter, anything you can think of! Enjoy my little secret, and have fun with it too. I don't think I've had a pink strawberry cookie, but I know I will soon! :D

Daddy's Little Girl...

Sometimes something comes across your vision and you are suddenly surprised at what you are viewing. This happened today as I was sitting in the elementary school library, and a little girl walks into the area. She was probably no more than three. And the more I looked at this little creature, the more I wanted to see who she belonged to. She was wearing light pink cowboy boots, a low slung diaper, and a top that might have looked like a dress to hasty eyes... except that it only really covered her belly button, and had breakfast all over it.

Her hair was completely disheveled - like she'd just climbed out of bed, and the single back button of her top was flopping around looking very forgotten. With some cute shorts, and a bow, this would have been an adorable outfit! It was so funny, I had to wonder. What happened to Mom this morning? So I watched her wander around, and ultimately gravitate to... her dad. *Bing!* It all made sense.

Dad came around the corner looking for the librarian. I got up my courage and said, "Did she pick out her outfit herself today?".
"Yeah."
And he looked at me, and he looked at the little girl - trying to figure out what was so amusing. Clearly, to him, it had passed muster. She had clothes on. She had matching shoes on. It's good! I bet he was questioning himself as he left the house this morning, "Why do women make it so hard? Just put some clothes on the kid and go to the library - it's not that hard!" He went about looking for the librarian, and I continued my search as well.

I looked to see if he had any others with him -ooop yep. That little boy with the bedhead, wrinkly shirt and mismatched shorts must belong. And I'm guessing that this little girl who was looking a little unkempt was part of the set too. Yep, they're all hanging around together. The surprise was his oldest.

Probably a girl of about 9. Matched clothes, clean, tidy, appropriate shoes, and combed hair. Oh yeah. She has caught the vision. You may be Daddy's girl, but when it comes to going out in public, we use Mommy's standards. Made me laugh.... to myself.. not out loud. There are just some things that we don't do in public!