inspired by nyquil

It's late and I am wide awake reading blogs because my throat hurts. I thought, perhaps. I would post some of the things I learned this week along with other ramblings. It's probably the cold medicine typing.

1. It was really smart of us to buy a house three miles away from Ty's office because when his truck starts acting up he can just ride his bike.


2. Johnny is not afraid of strangers who give away free balloons.


3. I am spending too much on groceries, must cut coupons or menu plan or something.


4. You have to have someone to tell or it will eat you up.


5. My sister is a greater advocate for me than I knew and apparently enjoys stroking my ego.


6. I cannot afford all the fabric I want to buy. (See #3)


7. My friends cheer me on when I take on the token thief at Chucky Cheese (and his mom). They are the ones who inspire me to do so.


8. My mother-in-law has a naughty side (just a little).


9. I miss my siblings desperately as we become parents.


10. It only takes 19 hours to drive to DC from my house.


11. When you have strep throat you get little red spots on the back of your throat.


12. You are only supposed to add 10% of your mileage to your weekly total when running-bah.


13. Tommy does not believe me about 17 being an important number to include when counting,


14. I could (and would love to) spend a whole lot of money on heirloom roses and obscure types of raspberry bushes.


15. That stupid hedge in the front yard has roots that stretch to Australia, but I will not be defeated.


16. I DESPISE not seeing results for all my hard work.


17. If you put things out by the curb for the donation truck, your neighbors may come shopping.


18. I cannot force Johnny to eat in his booster-he just moves his place setting while I am fetching his drink. This means he spends his meals dancing around the kitchen with an ear of corn in his hand for occasional bites


19. My heart aches for my Mom and her Dad, I really need my parents to be super healthy so I won't worry.


20. Ikea makes really soft sheets.

once upon a time

Last Friday, I painted the kitchen. I had decided I was not thrilled with the color I had chosen three years ago when we bought this house and wanted something else. I sort of mentioned in passing that I wanted to paint the kitchen to Ty and took his affirmative grunt as tacit agreement. When I painted a whole wall (to check the color) on Thursday evening he got a little miffed with me. He felt, quite correctly, that I hadn't consulted him. I just hadn't thought he would care. Luckily my color choice was spot on and the kitchen is much more lovely than previously, so he forgave me. Saturday was our 12th anniversary. We are not good at anniversaries, things always seem to go wrong, (and we couldn't find a sitter) so we played it safe and stuck close to home. Take -out and a dvd are not what I had in mind as a romantic evening when my much younger self pictured future important evenings together. But we have been to all those places, fancy restaurants and concerts, candlelight and roses, and while I can't say I don't adore all of those things, they don't make the evening. Him being there, with me, is all that I care about. He, of the obvious joke and the surreal comment. He, who thinks I'm smart and pretty, even when pregnant. He who always lets me go my own way and supports me even when I take a wrong turn. We aren't super demonstrative in public (He still blushes when I kiss him with anyone watching) so maybe you weren't aware of the fairy tale love that lives in our house. I guess I am living my happily ever after. Lucky me.

oh yeah, well, i bet your kid has never ridden a bucking camel...

'Cause mine have. That's right yesterday while at the wildlife park I decided to let my little monkeys ride the camel. It's an above-board operation so I assumed all was well. I settled my two little ones along with another little friend of theirs on top of the towering animal. If you've ever ridden a camel you know that essentially there is just a bar that you hold onto, no seatbelts or anything. It began well. He stopped the camel so that we could take pictures and then walked it down the trail and back. As they were pulling up to the platform that allows people to board the blasted animal started bucking. Full out bucking. I could see poor little Johnny holding on to the front bar for dear life, his whole little body flying up in the air behind him. I ran, but I would have been too late. The man yanked the camel down and got it under control. I hustled my little ones off the camel ( who will be known as Satan from here on out). I snuggled a terrified Johnny and practiced my yoga breathing. Lesson learned. Camels are vicious evil animals and should be avoided at all costs.

what stays in wichita...

Friday night I went out with several of my very best girlfriends. I had a great time and that is all that I am allowed to say about it. We laughed and laughed.

mistaken identity

Today Tommy asked me how I got my name. I explained that my parents thought I looked like an angel when I was a baby and so they named me 'Angela'. "They thought you were like an angel?" he responded incredulously. He thought about that for a minute or so and followed it up with, "I think you should change your name, Mom."

homeostasis

This morning I am puttering. I am a champion putterer. In my case, such behaviour is often a sign of a sort of general satisfaction with my life. It has taken me almost this long to get my life back in order since our little jaunt out west. Finally things are back to home base and now I want to heave a huge mental sigh of relief. I am a creature of schedule and habit. I get all antsy when things mess with my schedule. Yesterday I reordered the sewing room, practiced piano and got in a good run, Tommy went to school and both boys had a playdate in the afternoon. Daddy came home for dinner and after bedtime I worked up a new project for a friend. Blissful normalcy. This morning's rain is the frosting on my cupcake.

I just bought three pounds of cherries. If you have been in northern Utah in the summer, you know that Provo has one of the biggest fourth of July celebrations in the country.When I was a kid we went to the parade almost every year. We took folding camping chairs and hiked blocks and blocks from far away parking spots to sit on the curb and eat cherries while watching the beauty queens and high school bands. They throw lots and lots of candy at that parade but what I really remember was the cherries. We always had them. Always. My Dad is a creature of habit. For me it just wasn't the Fourth of July without cherries. Still isn't. Somehow I never can get past the first week of July without buying masses of cherries. I don't even think about it. They just find their way into my cart at the approriate time of year. Muscle memory perhaps?