Happy Birthday, Michael

My oldest son turned 7 years old today. 7 years ago, we went to the hospital at 7 am and had a baby 4 hours later. That was the last time he'd be cooperative for the next 2 years.


However, in spite of a rough start, Michael is a wonderful young man now who is very sensitive to others and fun to be around.


He loves science, and chose to go to the planetarium with his grandpa (an amateur astronomer) instead of having a birthday party. I told him I'd make whatever he wanted for dinner-- he chose "mancakes"-- plate-size pancakes. He also wanted a Saturn shaped birthday cake. (Does he remember he has a kitchen-impaired mother?)

Here's what he got:

Saturn's rings, of course, are made of Nerds. Mike seemed to like it.

Here's my handsome boy--

He'll kill me for this one, but this is a common sight when you're around Michael very much. Poor little guy. Keeps growing up and not out. His pants are 8 slims and they still fall down.

Layne Matthew and Michael Layne:

Brothers:

Emalee really wanted to name him Buzz Lightyear. I think he appreciates that we said no.

Happy Birthday, My Boy! We love you!

Out-lawed In-Law In the Kitchen

Layne's brothers and sister have all decided to take advantage of his parents' being around more lately and each of the families is taking dinner up one night a week. My kids love to spend time with their grandparents, so I am all in favor of this plan.

The problem is that I keep screwing up dinner.

I have wonderful in-laws. They have never made me feel like anything less than a loved member of the family. However, like any daughter-in-law, I feel like I should try to impress them.

That never goes well for me. I am not an impressive person. I am even less impressive in the kitchen.

When I made roast and potatoes and the works a couple of weeks ago, I forgot to put salt in the rolls (yuck) and I took the roast out too soon, then dried it out trying to nuke it.

Tonight, I thought I'd make one of my mother-in-law's favorite dishes-- French Onion Soup. I killed myself cutting onions and crying like a baby. I stunk up the house (and myself) cooking them in the crock pot all afternoon. The soup was actually good.

Then I had to have to bright idea to serve it in bread bowls. Bad plan. The bread absorbed all of the soup part of the soup and left a pile of onions in the bottom of a very soggy bowl.

Like I said, not impressive.

Luckily, they love me anyway.

Next week, we're bringing Pizza Hut.

Skinny Tires, Fat Tires, and Nails in Tires?

Interesting and exhausting day today.

Went to get Doug off to school and heard a heart-sickening thud when I put the car in reverse-- I got out of the car to find a pancake where a tire should have been. I was already late, so Doug and I hopped on our bikes and rode to school.

That's when I discovered it was a BEAUTIFUL morning, so I blew off every other obligation I had in the morning and hopped on my bike for a fantastic ride to Alpine and back. Hill all the way up and nasty headwind all the way back, but it was marvelous, nonetheless.

On thing I'm really liking is my new bike saddle. I bought it because it is a little bit wider than my old one and, let's face it, having babies definitely did not decrease the width of my sit bones. However, there are two awesome advantages to this new seat that I didn't expect:

1. For whatever reason, I can ride on this saddle with my cycling tights on and NOT slide off the front. You can imagine that this is a great plus.

2. This is a nice, CARBON seat. I thought that the carbon was just to make it lighter. (Who cares, really, if my saddle is 100 grams lighter than the aluminum frame one when I'm carrying 20 extra pounds around the middle?) However, I'm finding that the carbon absorbs shock from the road, making the ride on our lovely chip-sealed roads much more smooth. I can now comfortably ride on a few of the roads I'd been avoiding because they vibrated so much it was almost indecent.

Anyway, after a great ride and a lot of PTA meetings, I finally got around to changing my own tire. Yep. Girl Power. I have the dirt on my shirt to prove it. I'm not even going to change the shirt before I go to my RS meeting tonight. It's my badge of honor.

Mean Girls

I've said it before, and I'll say it again-- it's hard to be a girl.

Not only do you have the ages of unfair treatment from men to deal with, but the even worse issue is the unfair treatment that we deal out to each other.

I think that I've tried to forget what it was like to be a girl growing up-- all of the back biting, spiteful little things that girls do-- but having a daughter brings it all back.

Who can forget the "secret clubs" and the "you're not my best friend anymores"? What about "she's copying me!" and the "if you talk to her, I'm not going to be your friend?" Let me assure you, those time honored snips are still alive and kicking.

I've discovered something horrible that I never before imagined, though. It is WORSE the second time around. It was bad enough when I was younger and it was happening to me. It is much worse to watch my daughter fight these battles and realize there is very little I can do about it.

Sure, I can try to instill in her a positive self esteem and be there for her and all that crap, but mostly, I'd just like to call the mean girls out! I know, I know--that's not going to help her in the long run, but I'm discovering that being a parent means living on the sideline-- and that's not a role I've ever liked.

Sometimes I think it would be fun to be a kid again-- and then I remember the days when you'd been fighting with your friends and the thought of getting up and going to 6 hours of school with people you were sure hated you was just too much to bear. Everything seems so tragic and final when you're nine.

It seems easier to be a boy. They get mad, they punch each other, and the next day they are friends again. Not us. I still cringe every time I see this one girl that I hated in grade school.

Some things never change.

Bringing Up the Rear

Today's topic: the bidet.

Not a common site here in the good ole' USA. Our hotel in Argentina had one, and most recently, our hotel in Italy was also likewise equipped. Kind of causes me a Crocodile Dundee moment-- I know what the thing is for, but how the heck to you use it?

If you'll notice, there is soap and a towel right by the bidet-- you can guess how those are used. I decided to look up the history and etymology of the thing and cracked up as I read it. I'll share the funny info with you.

According to Wikipedia, the word "bidet" means pony in French and the etymology is that it is so named because you ride it like a horse.

Apparently they are used for more than the obvious-- they are also useful for washing feet and for bathing babies. (I say ew, gross! to that, but to each her own, I guess.)

In Japan, they've invented a combo toilet / bidet which is "paperless"-- you go, it cleans you, then dries you off all in one.

This is a picture of an early bidet concept from the Roman colosseum. Apparently you did your business in this trough, then there was a slave who stood there with a bucket and sponge to be a "human bidet". (Seriously, if you ever think that your job stinks. . .)

My jury is still out on this thing. I've heard that my world-traveling aunt who lives in Lehi likes them so much that she had one installed in her bathroom. I'm not there yet, but, as they say, cleanliness is next to godliness. . .

I Can't Believe It's Over. . .

So, here I am in the JFK airport for a 5 hour layover. My great and spontaneous adventure is over and I have to wonder if I dreamed it all. Here are a few more highlights:

Here's me buying pizza. As far as I could tell, Italians eat pizza, spaghetti and really good ice cream. And that's about it. . .

Here's the only pic of me and Layne together in front of the capitol building. Some little guy took it who could barely figure out how to press the button. We're lucky it came out.

Can I tell you how cool I felt riding a bike around a park in Rome? Dream come true. It definitely wasn't my Trek, though. I think those bikes were built for midgets.


View of Rome from the TOP of St. Peters. I had to climbe 5 million and 3 stairs to get this picture. I still have sore calves to remind me.

Here's Michaelangelo's Pieta-- it is so beautiful I could have cried.

Here's Layne in St. Peter's square. I can't even begin to describe how huge this place is.

This is Trevi Fountain at night. I love this fountain-- we ended up here at least once a day all three days. It is by Bernini and he is one of my favorite sculptors. The fountain looks like it grows out of the building.

This is the Pantheon at night. This was one of my favorite places. I studied Latin for 3+ years and Art History as well and this was one thing I always wanted to see. On our actual anniversary, we ate in front of here at a little sidewalk cafe. It doesn't get anymore romantic than that!

So, now I am waiting for my flight home, starting to think of all the things I've forgotten for 5 days-- schedules, PTA, Relief Society, etc. . . I don't know if I will ever do anything this spontaneous and crazy-fun again, but I definitely hope so!!!

s

o
u

When in Rome (part 2)

Really quick again-- I'm running out of juice for the laptop. We spent most of the day at the Vatican today. It was fantastic! I was able to see many works of art in person that I studied in Art History. Here's me in one of the Vatican museum courtyards.
Here's our bootleg picture inside the Sistine chapel. This place is absolutely incredible.

This is St. Peter's square. It is two football fields from where Layne took the picture to the entryway of the basilica. Please take not of the very top of the building (over 7 stories high)--

This is a picture from the TOP of that dome-- we climbed 332 steps after a 4 story elevator ride to get there. My legs hurt! Here's St. Peter's square from above.

We went back to the colosseum at night. Very cool view.

When In Rome (part 1)

We made it! Another time I'll write about how flying Business class is even BETTER than first class.
I don't have much time and I think I'm starving to death, but here's just a couple of the 200 pics we took today. It was so incredibly cool to see all of this stuff in person!!! (This is taking forever on this internet-- so just a couple of pics today. I'll try more tomorrow)

Here's the Colosseum-- we got to go inside.

Layne by the Arch of Constantine


(below) Trevi Fountain

Fish Out of Water

After 34 years, I've accepted the fact that I'm not chic. Most of my clothes come from Target and JCPenney. I drive a 5 year old minivan that I refer to as the Pigmobile. My house is not fancy. And I like life that way.

However, today I flew First Class and I felt like one of the People-- you know what I mean-- the ones you see on t.v. who own real Prada purses (not the knock-offs the rest of us buy at Ross.)

The seats are huge.

They offered me so many drinks that I ALMOST had to break my no-peeing-on-planes rule.

They brought me a damp warm little towel-- what do I do with this thing?

I got a nice meal with real silverware. I got off the plane first.

They let us in the Crown Room for our layover (which is where I am now.) There are little foods like biscotti and slices of white cheddar cheese.

This is all kinds of fun, but I confess-- I feel like an imposter. I look around and don't see many people who look like they clean their own toilets or shop at Target.

Too bad for them, I say. I like those things. Well, maybe not the toilet part. But it is a great time to be the "other half" for a weekend!

And So It Begins. . .

I am sitting here in a hotel in Salt Lake City at 11:00 pm. Alone.


Let me start at the beginning.

After cancelling our trip to St. George due to expected bad weather, we had resigned ourselves to spending our anniversary in Midway. I was okay with the plan, Layne-- not so much.

In his quest to get out of Dodge, his plans kept getting bigger and more grandiose. At one point, he suggested taking all of the kids to Orlando for a few days, but then realized that our Romantic Getaway would spiral down into a Get-Away-From-Me.

I let him dream-- figuring it was like the time he wanted to buy a BMW Z-3. Especially when he came up with the idea of flying to Rome for the weekend.

I'm not talking Rome, Idaho. I'm talking Rome Italy.

I thought that the kids made a natural barrier to such craziness. However, my angel sister Colette and her husband offered to stay and watch them for us. And, just like that, he booked the trip.

I've had 24 hours to pack, make arrangements, and pretty much dump all of my responsibilities onto whomever had the misfortune to cross my path. (Sorry, y'all.)

My parents graciously offered to keep the kids for tonight (they are also angels), so we booked a cheap hotel by the airport to save ourselves some time and snow travel in the morning, as we have to be at the airport by 5:00 am.

Everything was perfect, until I opened up my bag and realized I left the second most important thing (next to clean underwear) home-- the precious bottle of Ambien.

I don't sleep in hotels on my own-- and without sleep, I get migraines.

So, even though he was already sweet enough to book MY dream trip (instead of his) and to use most of his skymiles so that we can fly first class, my husband ventured back out in the snow to go home for my meds.

Yes, this defeats the stay-in-a-hotel-to-get-an-extra-hour-of-sleep plan. Yes, this might be a rocky start to our adventure. And yes, I am married to the most patient, wonderful guy in the world.

Onto Rome.... I can't believe it!

Frozen Over

When I started my blog, I intended it to be more about cycling than anything else. I forgot about one thing-- winter.

I have to wonder about the fool who came up with the phrase "when hell freezes over" because obviously hell is ALREADY cold. If it's supposed to be the worst place imaginable, for me at least, the "damned" place must be covered in ice.

My own version of wintery hell this year has included 562 grueling miles-- all in exactly the same place-- our small upstairs bedroom. It used to be a nursery, so there are happy little teddybears on the walls, next to posters of Lance Armstrong and some buff chick riding a mountain bike. Add in the bikes locked into medieval looking trainers, along with heart monitors, fans, computer and t.v. screen, weights, balance ball and a yoga mat, and the whole effect is a little bit surreal.

I've spent over 40 hours in that room in the past few months. I've watched the entire first season of House, highlights of 7 Tours de France, and countless episodes of Las Vegas (the only thing on at 9:00 am). I've done intervals, flat miles, and endurance training. All in the hope that one of these days, the sun will come out and I will able to get my bike off the blasted trainer and onto the road-- and not die from exertion in the process.

I'd like to say that all of this exercise has left me slim and trim and ready to ride a century out of the gate. Not so. Unfortunately, I've found 8 of the pounds I thought I'd lost forever. Riding on the trainer is just a sorry substitute for a good ride on the road. Or even a bad one, for that matter. Where the heck is spring???

P.S. I did enjoy my first chocolate in a week today-- gotta love the Lindor Truffles!

Just Another Manic Monday

I'm feeling, well, I'm so sorry, but for lack of a better word, I'm going to have to say bitchy. I tried grumpy and crabby and a few others, but nothing else quite described my state of mind.

It could be the chocolate. It's kind of a funny feeling-- like I walked out of the house without my bra on or something. I just feel like something important is missing.

It also could be that I spent the whole morning doing the two things I hate most-- cleaning my shower and cleaning the pig sty that my daughter calls her bedroom.

As far as the shower is concerned, I've never worried too much about it before, as Layne was always too blind to see it. Now that he's had Lasik, I'm sure he's noticing streaks of mold and mildew that before just looked like black granite streaks. Except that our shower is white tile.

I decided to dig out the grody silicone and redo the caulk. I ended up scrubbing the dang thing with steel wool to try and get all of the gunk off it. I scrubbed and scrubbed and nearly killed myself with chlorine fumes. I hate that job.

As for Em's room-- SERIOUSLY-- how much junk can one 9 year old girl collect? I cleaned her room out really well around Christmas time, so how in the world could there be 15 years worth of crap in a room that was gutted 2 months ago? The kid is a pack rat-- and she didn't get it from me. We'll see how long it takes her to figure out how much of her stuff I trashed.

Now, I know, by cleaning her room for her, I am enabling her pig-like tendencies and all that crap. That's not it. I didn't do it for her. She seems to like her little messy rat's nest. I did it for me because to get to my room, I have to walk past her room and it makes my blood pressure jump every time I see it. So, for my own sanity, I entered the pre-teen realm of no return. Let's see if she notices...

Day 3 and Still Clean

Crazy thing.

Giving up chocolate is easier than caffeine. (So far, that is.)

Maybe it's because I know it's only for a week.

Day 3 and so far, I'm clean. I did have to stop myself from sampling Doug's chocolate milk this morning. And I did have a little debate with myself to determine if white chocolate is really chocolate, but to be safe (and to keep my $5 bucks), I abstained.

I know. I should get a medal.

Make it one of those foil covered chocolate ones...

The Chocolate Challenge

I've heard that the first step in conquering addiction is admitting that you have a problem. Okay. I'm admitting. I'm addicted to chocolate. I am just losing the battle with the leftover bags of Riesens and Doves from the SuperBowl.

I have every classic symptom of addiction. I turn to Hersheys when I am bored, sad, lonely, or ticked off. I get nervous if I don't have at least a little chocolate in the house.

It's not nearly so bad when the weather is warm and I can fix the jones with a good endorphin-producing bike ride. Maybe the sunshine counteracts the cocoa, I don't know. I do know that I definitely struggle with this more in the winter time.

I have a friend who solves the problem by quitting chocolate all together. I'm going to try it. I'm going off chocolate for 1 week-- cold turkey and completely. I will be accountable to my friends and family who read this.

The only thing that I like more than chocolate is winning. So, to raise the stakes, if I fail, I will admit it and any of you who call me on it will get $5. Wish me luck... (Or not, if you want the $5, I guess. By the way, anyone who tries to get the $5 by bringing me stuff with chocolate IN it is DQ'ed.)

Turning Off the News

What goes around comes around, right? Like the title of my blog, life is about cycles. Cause and effect and all of that. I am concerned with one particular cycle right now. (Unfortunately, it is not my bicycle. Still riding inside, but hoping that changes soon!)

What I am referring to is the strange economic cycle we are in right now. We seem to be caught in a bad feedback loop. People are afraid they will lose their jobs, so they save every penny they make. That means that all of the people who work at the fancy restaurants where the first people used to go are at risk of losing their jobs. Those people stop buying clothes at the GAP, which puts the poor GAP workers out of work. The GAP people cancel their Disneyland trips, and before you know it, Mickey Mouse is out of a job.

I've heard the term "recession" many times in my life, but I don't remember it ever feeling this way before. I've never seen it effect so many people around me-- people who I thought should be safe. It's getting hard to keep the fear at bay.

I'd like to see the media do an experiment. In one city, they ought to try spinning all of the news-- especially the economic news-- in a positive way. I'd be willing to bet that the economy in that area would be much stronger than the rest of the country-- people would stop freaking out and things would normalize.

All of the doom and gloom on the news can't be helping things.

I know that faith and fear can't exist in the same place. I know that I can look back at all of the trials in my life and see that good has come out of them-- I'm sure that the same will happen here too. I start to understand the man in the bible who told Christ, "Lord, I believe. Help thou my unbelief." I want to be fearless. I want to feel faith and peace.

Guess I'm going to have to stop watching the news.

Bad Stuff, Funny Stuff and Tender Mercies

I've had a couple of those dicotomy kind of days where everything seems juxtaposed to make things funnier and sweeter than normal.

I don't want to dwell on the bad stuff-- I'll just say that a good muscle relaxer, about $400 to cover a new garage door opener, and a magically fixed economy should take care of my major problems.

For the funny stuff:

First, the phone rang at 8:30 in the morning yesterday and I sent Mike to answer it. He picked up the phone and instead of saying "hello", he said "Our Dear, Gracious Heavenly Father," then realized what he'd said, shouted "Oh No!!!" and took off running to his room. He scampered up the ladder to his bunk bed and burrowed into his covers, the whole time saying "Oh No! Oh No!"

I was laughing so hard, that I couldn't comfort the humiliated little beggar. I figured whoever was on the phone would call back soon and I'd have to compose myself. Luckily, it was just Layne, but it took him a good couple of minutes to stop laughing enough to call back too.

Mike got over it when I hugged him and told him thanks, I really needed a laugh like that.

Second, my sweet friend Tina felt bad that her son had to miss Doug's birthday party, so she agreed to take her kids to McDonalds for lunch today. She's a much better mom than me and has never let her kids play in the germ infested death trap they call Playland. The boys took off instantly and soon, 2 year-old Tutu (not her real name) wanted to join them.

Unfortunately for Tina, she caved in. After a while, we realized that we hadn't seen Tutu come out on a slide. We sent the boys up to find her, and, sure enough, she was stuck. It was kind of a toss up who should go get her. I'm 5'10, which makes me about 5 feet taller than the Hamburgler guy who measures to see if you're too big to play in the Playland. Tina is about a foot shorter than me, but she's somewhat (ok definitely) on the pregnant side. We both had equal shot at getting stuck. In one of my less-chivalrous moments, I let Tina go after her own kid. (Sorry.)

I hope that Tina doesn't go into labor tonight. I don't think that Tutu will ever get into the Playland again. Lucky for Tina, I had my trusty Point-n-shoot handy. :-)

Now for the sweet stuff.

I've decided in the last little while, as I watch so many of my friends and family go through adversity (and even a few small things myself), that the Lord, while He has to let us go through the refiner's fire, extends "tender mercies" to get us through.

I had three or four small tender mercies this morning. I was able to catch up with a friend walking her kids to school who I have been trying to talk to all month. I got a front row parking place a the temple. And, best of all, in my temple session, I looked around and saw my sweet grandpa who I love dearly and rarely see-- in the same session with me.

I think that God leaves His calling cards all around for us, if we will look for them. In the midst of the storms, He will always send us enough humor, love, and miracles (small and large) to get us through.

New Family Pics

I finally broke down and went to have pictures taken today. Doug was still in diapers in the last professional picture we had taken. I just went to Kiddie Kandids-- they had a great deal where I got a free 16x20 -- which normally costs $70. They did a pretty good job, for a mall joint!

Our Family

Doug

Emalee

Michael

My Monkeys

The first pic the two of us have had done since our engagement.

New

I'm in January mode. A funny effect of my post-holiday depression is that I spend more time in my house. The more I do that (combined with the whole January/New Year etc. effect), the more things I see in the house that need done. What ends up getting me out of my funk is usually throwing myself into some kind of home improvement. (Which is the reason that Layne hates January.)

Like always, my "one thing I'm going to do" snowballed. Today I was going to stain my new windowsill that my wonderful father put in for me on Saturday. Then I decided I had to paint the molding. Which led to the walls. Of the whole family room. Plus a few in the hall by the bathroom. That required much moving of furniture, vacuuming, etc...

Essentially, I worked my butt off all day long and it looks awesome. (Except for the few little smudges and stuff I'm seeing now as I sit here.)

The bad effect of all my changes is this. An hour past bedtime, Doug came down in his cute little Power Rangers underwear with tears in his eyes. We asked him what was wrong and he said something we couldn't understand through the sobbing. We calmed him down a little and he said,
"I'm sad because of all the new stuff. Mommy keeps changing things and I like the old stuff better."
Oops. Guess I'm gonna have to tone it down. . .

Layne, did you pay him to do that?

Happy #5, Dougie!

My baby turned 5 today. As he told me himself after getting hit on the head and not crying, "You know, Mommy, 5 years-olds is much tougher than 4 years olds." He's getting so big.

Five years ago last night, I went to bed the mother of two. I woke up about 2 in the morning and heard a steady dripping sound. Nope. My water hadn't broken. My water-bed had. That was the end of sleeping for that night, and 5 hours later, I found myself in the hospital, waiting for my third child to make an appearance. (Layne found himself cleaning wet carpet and buying a new bed.)

Dougie was born at about 1:07 p.m. on January 26th-- very cute and he just keeps getting cuter. He's like salt-- everything is better and more vibrant with him around. He has a way of seeing the world and of expressing himself that is not only entertaining, but insightful. His natural curiousity gets him in trouble, but his mostly innocent motives keep him from too severe of consequences, at least when those consequences are determined by me.

He is my constant companion-- he thinks that he is the junior vice-president of the PTA. I keep thinking about home schooling just him, as I don't think that I can bear to send him to school in the fall. I love you Dougie!

P.S. Here's his awesome football cake. As I am baking-challenged, my friend Tina came over to "help" me (read I-pretty-much-watched-her). Thanks, Tina! You're awesome.

The Zitz

We woke up today thinking that we were working on home improvement projects all day long. My dad came to help us (that was what I asked for on my birthday months ago) and things went much faster than anticipated.

My sister Nicole and her family came over around 11:00 or so and I went with her to get a haircut. By the time we got home at noon, they boys had finished the projects already-- well, at least to the point where they had to stop to let dry wall putty dry.

It wasn't planned, but we spent the rest of the day pretty much playing Rock Band. Sure, I stopped for a little while to take the kids to the store to get ice cream for dinner (complete with candy to mix in the the ice cream), but we literally spent hours and hours playing the game.

I played the drums for so long that my arms hurt. Jared lost his voice and Nicole and Layne both have carpal tunnel from the guitars.

The kids ran amok all day and will probably barf all night from my super-nutritious dinner. I might barf myself-- at least I might wish that I could.

Our band is called The Zitz. I know. Bad name, but we were awesome. I have video proof.

The kids joined in and sang back up or played the foot pedals for the drums. We got nothing done and had a blast.

I hope that our kids remember stuff like that when they are tempted to tell their kids that their mean parents made them clean the house and do chores all of the time. . .

Dinner Party

Why is it that every time I decide to have people over, my eyes are suddenly opened to every smudge on the wall, stain on the carpet, and scratch in the table?

I think I have a circle of dirty friends. I don't mean that how it sounds. What I mean, is that group of people who I don't clean up for anymore. You know the ones that, when they come over and you're folding laundry, you don't try to shove it in the closet, but you expect them to at least offer to help?

Dinner wasn't for them tonight. Our ward decided to have "dinner groups" where they randomly assigned 4-6 couples to a group. One couple hosts the dinner and everyone brings something. I got to be hostess this time.

These aren't people in my "dirty circle". In fact, one was my 7th grade Utah History teacher. Who would have thought I'd invite him to dinner one day? You never know where life will take you-- or who it will bring to your door.

I cooked and cleaned a good chunk of the day. I actually got out my china and goldware-- probably the 6th time in 11 years. I must say, I threw a good party, in spite of the smudges and stains. (I just turned down the lights-- what appeared to be ambiance was really camoflauge.)

I made probably my favorite dish (next to grilled cheese sandwiches with tomatos). Here's the recipe:

Cube Steak (With or Without Mushrooms)

Dip cube steak in a mixture of egg and milk, then in bread crumbs with a little salt and pepper in them.

Heat a little oil in a frying pan, then cook each steak for just a minute or so on each side.

Place breaded steaks in a crock pot.

Mix one can of cream of mushroom soup with one package of Lipton Onion soup and pour mixture over the steak. (If you like onions, you can slice about half of one in rings and spread them around the steak.)

Cook on low for 6-7 hours, or high for 3-4. If you like mushrooms, put 1 cup or so of fresh ones into the crock pot about an hour before serving.

This steak is great served with baked potatoes-- the sauce is good on the potatoes too.

Long Live the King

I've been watching the first three days of the Tour Down Under-- the first major pro-cycling event of the year. Granted, I would watch the race no matter what (and sit here and feel sorry for my snow-encrusted life), but there is a really cool element to this race that I've never seen before-- Lance Armstrong is racing.

This is his comeback event, after having retired from cycling in 2005. I knew of Lance Armstrong-- who didn't?-- and the little I did know of the Tour de France came from his winning of it 7 times. (Which really ticked off the French, and anything that does that tends to make me laugh a little.)

I didn't become a cycling addict until two years after Lance retired. I've watched nearly every minute of cycling coverage in the last two years, but I've always felt a little bit ripped-off. Lance Armstrong was really IT for American cycling. Granted, that's a very big IT, but still-- the only notable thing to happen for the Americans on the pro-tour was Floyd Landis winning it, then being stripped of the yellow jersey for doping in 2006. I actually missed that one too.

Then Lance came back. Granted, I'm not a huge fan of the comeback. I mean really, two words adequately describe why it shouldn't be done-- Brett. Favre. Need I say more?

And usually, I'm not the kind to jump on the BIG THING bandwagon-- Tiger Woods, Cold Play, Ashton Kutcher-- all things I think are overrated.

I'm not a fan at all of Lance's personal life either-- I think that he should have stayed with his first wife, but no one asked me.

All that notwithstanding, I am loving watching Lance race. I love that he's not coming back with the intent of crushing the competition. He's coming back to further a cause that he has devoted his time, money and heart to-- cancer research. He has leveraged his own personal power for something that affects so many of us. He's riding to inspire-- and it works for me.

Too Much Testosterone?

Is there any such thing as the terrible fives? Doug turns five in a week, and I'm afraid for us, if this week is a preview of the coming year.

He was sick last week and milked that to it's very last drop. He even told me, "I like being sick, Mommy. I get chicken noodle soup and I get to sleep in your chair."

That's not the problem-- that part was cute. The problem is that either the cold meds he's been taking have brought out the monster in him, or he just is becoming a monster. I'm hoping for the first one.

For example, Mike was looking at a kaleidescope and Doug ran over and hit the kaleidescope into his eye-- just to see what would happen. I'll tell you what happens: a shiner.

He a Mike were playing with super-hero action figures in their room and suddenly, I hear wailing. Coming from the BIG brother. Again.

Mike was playing with Hulk and Doug decided to make Thing jump on his fingers as hard as he could to see if they'd break. Luckily, they didn't. Mike's patience with Doug is about to. So is mine.

He jumped on Layne and tried to bite his arm. He started wrestling with me and pulled my hair.

In church, when the sacrament tray came to him, he looked around, not to see if anyone was watching, as I was, but to see if anyone could get to him before he could get a giant handful of bread into his mouth. Seriously, by the time the water came around, he was STILL chewing.

He's been hyper, loud, crazy, and somewhat mean and I don't quite know what to do with him. I think I'm going to put his "wild child" shirt on him and take him to pre-school tomorrow, then run. Sorry, Helene (his teacher.) Good luck with that. . .

The Black List

Once I had a list of things that I wanted to do before I turn 35. It included things like "See the Colosseum in Rome", "Write a book", "Finish a Ph.D.", and "Learn to Ski."

I turn 35 this year, and it's occurring to me that a few of my "things" are still undone. Sure, I have 7 months or so before the big day. I guess I could plan a trip to Europe. I could start the book I keep meaning to write. I did try to snowboard this year-- does that count for skiing? I think I'm just screwed for the Ph.D.

I think I need a new list. Maybe I should lower the bar and make a list of things I've ALREADY done, and pretend that's what I ALWAYS wanted to do anyway. Things like "Give birth to 3 children-- two over 9 pounds." "See every animated Disney Movie ever made". "Drive a minivan." "Read the whole Lord of the Rings series. Even The Hobbit. Twice." "Plant a garden." (You'll notice I didn't say anything about harvesting it. Maybe that could be a 'before 50' goal.)

What is it about our culture that puts such emphasis on numbers that are divisible by 5 and 10 anyway? Why isn't say 32 a milestone, or 47 or 63? I guess when it comes down to it, no number of years is any more significant than another. Really, very few days, let alone years, are meaningful enough to be remembered on their own. The important thing is to make each one count while you're living it.

Look at me, waxing philosophical and such. I guess I really am getting old.

Maybe I will make a list with just one thing one it: no more lists.

Poor Doug...

I had THAT day today.

You know. The sick kid one. The one where you never leave the house, except to walk to the neighbor's house for two minutes. The one where you think the walls really might be closing in.

Doug went down today with a nasty cold-- 101 degree fever, goopy nose, cough, the works. That means I had to put on my nurse hat-- my least favorite of all the mom hats.

I'm not good at things that throw off my groove. I don't like things that make me feel trapped. And I really hate it when my kids have that "I feel miserable, why don't you fix this, Mom?" look. When they're sick and I can't make them better, I lose some of my super-mom glow.

The worst part is, no matter how much Lysol I use, the chances of a 5 year old keeping these germs to himself is next to nil. Looks like the start of a rough few weeks.

One more reason to hate January...

Taking a Stand

I had an interesting experience today that I thought I'd share.


A year ago or so, I subscribed to Women's Health Magazine. It is published by the same people who publish my favorite cycling magazine, so I thought it might be good for diet and exercise tips.


While it does have a lot of those, I've been disappointed by too much PG-13 and even what I would consider R rated material. So much so, that 2 of the issues I have thrown away upon looking at them. Most of them haven't been ones that I feel comfortable having out on my coffee table.


So, when the renewal came around, I threw it away.


Today they called me to offer a 30 month renewal deal. I listened politely and was about to say no thank you and hang up, when it occurred to me that I should tell him exactly why I would not be renewing my subscription.


I very politely told him that I was not comfortable having the magazine on the table because it contained content that I didn't want my kids reading. His solution "Maybe you could put it in a drawer or something where your kids couldn't see it." (Seriously, was this guy ever a kid? And second, REALLY, is he suggesting that I hide it like it's porn or something? )

I laughed and said that I probably shouldn't be reading anything that I wouldn't want my kids to find. He paused for a minute and said, "I have to tell you, you are not the first person to cancel for that reason. Thanks for your honesty. I can tell that you are a good mom."


I felt really good when I got off the phone. I had made my stand, but in a way that left both of us feeling good about the conversation. Sometimes with these kind of issues, I tend to get on a high horse and offend people, or at least wish I would have handled things differently. Today, I actually felt like I said the right thing at the right time to the right person.


I should do that more often.

I Keep Losing Weight and It Keeps Finding Me!

I, like the rest of the country, am obsessed with losing those 8 pounds that stuck themselves to my gut and thighs over the holidays. I'm back to counting calories and scouring web sites to see just how many of them I need to eat and burn in a day. Layne is right here with me, which is nice because the only way either one of us has ever succeeded at losing weight is when we do it together.

On the flip side of that, it is kind of discouraging because Layne is a man and he is much bigger than me, which means he can eat like 1000 calories more than me and still lose weight.

I've found a few things over the last little while, though, that are awesome snacks / exercise / weight loss tools. Thought I'd share.

1. Special K Crackers. You can eat 17 of them for only 90 calories and they taste pretty good. A close runner up are the All Bran crackers-- they have more fiber, but a few more calories.

2. Banana Bread Weight Control Quaker Oatmeal. 160 calories, grams of fiber, 7 grams of protein, a little bigger than a regular oatmeal packet, so it actually fills you up and keeps you full. When you're used to eating a 300 calorie bowl of cereal, this is an easy way to cut your calories nearly in half.

3. $2.50 resistance bands at Target. They're over in the dollar section. They take up almost no space, you can use them while you're sitting watching t.v. anyway, they don't hurt if they drop them on your toes, and using them to do bicep curls, tricep work and shoulder work made me stiff the next day-- and I do the same exercises 2-3 times a week with 12 lb. weights!

4. McDonald's Ice Cream Cone. For those moments when you've GOT to have something sweet and creamy. According to them, it only has 150 calories and 4 grams of protein. Hits the spot!

5. Sorry, no pic. But, here's a really cool link: http://www.healthstatus.com/cgi-bin/calc/reload.pl This is a calculator where you can put in how many minutes you spent doing everything from different types of exercise, to mopping the floor, driving, cooking, showering, and even the "s" word. (If I type it, your filter will ban me from your computer.) It just told me that I burned 669 calories cycling, 414 doing housework, 67 driving, and 8 brushing my teeth.

If you're back on the wagon like me, Good Luck to you. Losing weight is the hardest thing I've done. I've spent so much of my life trying to do it that you think I'd be good at it by now!

Too Much Information

So, a few days after my migraine comes the PMS. Just about everyone I know (women, that is) suffers from it in one shape or form. For me, it feels like rage.

For one day a month, I am the Incredible Hulk. I ought to take my temperature and see if my blood really is boiling, or if that is just my imagination. I don't think that I turn green, but I definitely feel bloated and Hulk-sized. And mad. Just plain mad.

Today was that day. I was the opposite of what the scriptures call "charity". I am very easily provoked. I seeketh my own-- at least to be left on my own. I am definitely "puffed up". I am NOT kind and I think way too much evil-- about the people on the road, the people on t.v., and whoever else happens to cross my path. I don't want to be touched, talked to or looked at wrong.

Luckily, like the migraines, this only lasts for half a day or so. At least today I don't think that I said anything I'll regret tomorrow. (We don't want to talk about what I was thinking.) If I did say something in poor form, and I said it to someone reading my blog, please accept my apologies. I'll work on making it up to you. Until next month, that is. . .

Layne's Lasik

Layne got his Christmas present today-- a glasses-free world. He's worn glasses from the time he was 15. He's wanted to have Lasik done for quite a few years, but every time he's gotten close, we've come up with something else to do with the money.

For Christmas, Layne's parents gave us some money and I told Layne this was it-- I wanted him to use it for his eyes before something else came up.


So, today, Layne let some lady slice open his eyeballs. And I got to watch.

It was totally gross, and I didn't even watch the whole thing. There is just something creepy about things touching eyes. Layne said that it was worse than a root canal-- not painful (he was full of valium) but just uncomfortable.

His eyes are all red and he says it feels like he has eyelashes in his eyes, but, he can see without his glasses. And now I can see his beautiful eyes without anything in the way.

My New Greatest Fear

Last night, I started seeing a funny streak in my vision and my heart started thundering because I know what that streak means-- Migraine.

I've gotten Migraine headaches since I was about 15 years old. I remember the first one that crossed my path. I was sitting in church when half of my head started hurting, my left eye felt like it would pop out of my head, and I was experiencing relentless waves of nausea.

I must have looked pretty bad, because my mom took me home from church and told me to stay in her bed. (Side note-- that was always the place we went when we were sick-- it was probably easiest for Mom to take care of us there. It was years -- think recently-- that I stopped wanting to get into my parents' bed when I was sick.)

Sorry, digressing again. I remember laying there, thinking that I was dying, then wishing I would, until I finally threw up and felt slightly better.

My mom had suffered from Migraine head aches for years and it wasn't until I had that first one that I really understood how bad they actually are.

I've tried various medicines for them, but nothing seems to work any better than 4 Advil and a Coke. So, as soon as I started seeing the aura last night, I popped open my first Dr. Pepper in quite a while and hoped that the ibuprofen/caffeine combo would work before the Migraine really took hold. Wishful thinking.

Before long, light seemed to pierce my eyes and sounds seemed 10 times louder than usual. Any movement made my stomach swirl and pretty soon I was seriously regretting the enchiladas I made for dinner. My blood pressure dropped and my arms felt weak and I knew that I was in for a long night.

Anymore, these headaches come like clockwork on a monthly basis. They seem to be getting more intense, until it's getting to the point that my palms sweat every time I realize that it's getting to be that time.

Of all the kinds of pain I've suffered in my lifetime, only gall bladder and labor top this. I'd take tooth aches, broken bones, back pains, strains, sprains, cuts and bruises all over these dumb head aches. Luckily, they usually only last 4-8 hours and then just leave me with what I call a "hangover", although I have no experience with a real one of those.

Some people are scared of spiders. Some people are scared of heights. My greatest fear is now Migraine head aches. (Oh yeah, and don't forget singing in public. Or snakes.)

Next time, I'm going to ask my doctor for a huge dose of medicine that will just knock me out and I'm going to take it as soon as I start seeing things. Hopefully, I'll never know if the headache even hits. Unless I wake up in a pool of puke, that is...

Just Plain Gross.

This post is going to be disgusting, I'm sorry. Feel free to stop reading if you have a weak stomach.


The topic of the day: snot.


I'm not talking about the occasional, wake up and have to blow your nose a little snot. I'm talking about the, "I-blew-my-nose-so-much-today-that-I-weigh-3-pounds-less-than-I-did-this-morning" kind of snot.


That's what I've got. It's my own fault, really. I've had sick kids over so many Christmases, that I prayed this year that we'd all just stay healthy through the holidays. Prayer granted. Now, here come the colds.


So far, it's just me. And it's got me wondering, what is snot and how in the world is my body producing so much of it all at once? To satisfy my curiousity, I looked it up on the internet. Did you know that the human body produces about one liter of snot per day?

Also, I learned the funniest word ever: "spinnbarkeit" which refers to the stringy or stretchy qualities of snot. I don't recommend using this word often, as it mostly applies to cervical mucus, however, the best definition I found of it said, "the capacity of a viscous liquid (especially the mucus) to be drawn out into a strand or blown up into a bubble. Who hasn't laughed at their kids when they sneeze and get the ever popular booger bubble? Now we've got a word for it.

Yep. I know. Totally gross, but I bet it made you laugh too.

A Winter Poll

I HATE JANUARY. I am not a snow person. I grew up in Utah and have NEVER been skiing. My only experience on a snowboard came last week, and as my grade 1 sprained MCL can attest, it was my last.

This is the most depressing week of the year for me. The holidays are over and people start turning off their Christmast lights. (Except for those people on Center Street in American Fork who have lights for every holiday, including Valentine's, St. Patrick's, July 4th, and Halloween.) The world is a cold, dark, dreary place right now.

I usually think of something good to get me through this month. I got married in February. I've had babies in January and February. Last year, I was looking forward to a trip to Argentina. This year, I've got nothin'.

I spent the day feeling sorry for myself. My knee hurts and I have a cold. The washer was unhooked (due to the freakin' cold temps) so I couldn't even do the laundry. I sat around with Doug pretty much all day and played kid-Phase 10 and watched Batman.

Enough of that. So, I need some ideas for getting through the rest of this blasted winter. (My inlaws just left for a 30 South Seas cruise and sneaking into their luggage didn't work out for me.) What gets you guys through?

Top 5 New Games

I come from a family of gamers. I grew up on a steady diet of Rook, Monopoly, Clue and the occasional Black Jack game.

When Layne and I started dating (think like 2 dates into it), I invited Layne over for game night. Brave.

It was rowdy. (Normal.) My brother-in-law burped and blew it in my sister's face. I was marginally embarrassed, but decided if my new guy couldn't handle it, I might as well know now, as my family was not likely to behave any better. Ever.

Layne thought it was awesome, and the rest is history.

But, I digress. My real post is about all the cool new games we got this season. My top five are:

5. Phase 10 Dice. I don't like Phase 10 so much as a card game, (mostly because I'm selfish and a little ADD and it seems like it takes too long for it to be my turn again), but the dice game is quick and fun.

4. Monopoly Real World Edition. Comes with a computer and visa cards and keeps track of the accounts for you. I just finished annihilating Layne and Emalee. The only problem is that we can't keep the Bennett family variation of putting all of the tax money in the middle and scoring it when you land on free parking. I miss that rule.

3. Life Twists and Turns. Also comes with a calculator thing. Easy enough for Michael to play, but fun for all of us. Funny thing is that each game is scored on a different criteria (sometimes kids are more valuable, sometimes money counts, sometimes houses, etc...) so you never know really who's winning until the end.

3a. Okay. I know, this makes 6, but that seems silly. Plus, I was just introduced to it last night. It's called Speed Scrabble and I KICK BUTT at it. Anyone want to play?

2. Yahtzee Free For All. I love Yahtzee and I usually win. (Layne won't play with me anymore.) This is a great variation and it comes with like 36 dice.

1. Zobmondo Would You Rather... This is the funniest game ever. I have proof. It made our friend Tyson do this:

It made Layne get on all fours and shake his booty for 30 seconds. (I have video and one day, if Layne really pisses me off, I'll post it.) Funny stuff happens every time we play this game.

So, who wants to come to my house? I'll make you some hot artichoke dip, but only if it's on a Saturday because as of Monday, I'm back on the wagon.