limbo, gimme a sec

I'm exhausted, my feet are on fire, and the sciatica is flaring up. Moving is such a beast. Especially when I'm married to such a s.d.n.f. (slave driving neat freak). He can't stand a single packed box lying around, so we moved into our new place Friday night and were totally unpacked by Saturday afternoon. The man is out of control.

I'd like to upload pics of our new place onto my computer, but my hard drive is currently full (this happens frequently when you take 1,000 pics every trip), and I'm bogged down in deletion mode. The more I say no, the easier it is to let go. Fifteen different angles of M eating her morning breakfast cereal do seem a tad superabundant.

Though I did come across this little gem. I think L is about 18 months old here. Note the bib. Three years later, we've outgrown the bib. Sadly, we have not outgrown the accompanying drool. Chubby babes are the bomb.



Isn't it amazing how like themselves they look already at such a young age? Or maybe only certain people will understand this sort of thought process.

Anyway, I'm starting to recover, so give me a bit and I'll get back to you, blog world. C'est la vie.



Today's track: Comes and Goes (In Waves) - Greg Laswell

the graduation

From kindergarten. These people go all out. You should've seen the party afterward. B's favorite parts: soccer game with the dads and the "memory book" some of the moms put together. Paid $30 for it. B better be looking at it 24/7.

So proud of you, B. Growing up is good.



Today's track: Here Comes the Sun - The Beatles

dress code: bare minimum

We sustained a new bishop today. And Bruce is now 1st counselor instead of 2nd counselor, which helps me non. Alas, the secret desire of my heart continues unrequited. I would've liked to experience warm, pleasant feelings of affirmation concerning the change. I really would have. But those feelings were stampeded by the raging, barely-bridled anger I was harboring toward my unruly and irreverent children. I feel like I'm competing for the UFC title every Sunday in our five-and-a-half feet of pew space.

This child, especially. The aisle is her runway and she only has eyes for the prize at the end: her dad. I wanted to duct tape her to some obscure corner of our church building.



M prefers to be as naked as possible. In her opinion, she is seriously overdressed here.











This is what I wanted to do today. Not fair. I wish I was two. She exhausts me.

FYI, the maid made the bed. Hence the eerie and peculiar geometrical pillow placement reminiscent of hotel decorating. Which makes sense, since that is where we found her. Working in a hotel, I mean. On the upside, you could bounce a quarter (or M) off those tight-like-unto-a-dish sheets. I choose my battles.



Today's track: Disco Lies - Moby

editing

I've sent Aud like five semi-important emails in two days. This is what she chooses to write back:

So much to respond to from your emails. But we've been on the go, so I haven't had time to sort out my thoughts and write you. But I do need to finally tell you, bc I've been meaning to, that....you always misspell "weird." Just FYI :)

More thoughts for your thoughts later!!! Love you.

English major (said with my snarliest voice). I'm going to leave it misspelled just to irk you.

pant legs

Bruce just came home. He walked in, gave me a kiss and went to the closet to change into his comfy clothes. Then he called to me, "Hey, babe? Which pant leg do you put on first?"

"Uh... my left?" I said.

"That's wierd," he responded. "You're right-handed."

What the... who's wierd? Crazy guy.

p.s. This pic was taken in our soon-to-be apartment. We move in next week. Ask me if I've even started packing. Just ask me.

sisters

Talking with my sisters is like talking with another version of myself (uh... albeit a slightly more bronzed version). When I call them, there's no need for the pre-requisite greetings. We skip over preemptive stuff and jump right in where we left off.

Aud picks up her phone, and I say, "I need the recipe for that thing you made that night." If I were to call Dani tonight, I wouldn't say, "How are you?" I'd say, "Steven!" Then she might rip into me about how much she hates that I made her read a book with such an unsatisfying ending. (It's about the journey, D.) "How are you?"'s are irrelevant and take too long.

Bruce says he always knows when I'm talking on the phone with one of them, because my voice reaches unearthly pitches. And when he asks me what we talked about for two hours, I say I don't know. Not because I don't know, but because it's too exhausting and pointless to explain all the unsaid between the lines that he will never understand, because he didn't grow up with pink walls and mango rooms.

Will my sisters and I still be squealing emotionally over life and circumstances and little brothers when we're 50? Strong possibility. We are all three very different, to be sure. But threads of sameness exist in the deepest parts of our souls. You understand each of us better by knowing the others. And especially once you meet the madre. It all becomes painfully crystal clear then.

So when I tell them that I have a huge crush on Zac Efron now after watching 17 Again, my sisters won't judge me. They won't. Because deep down inside, they know they feel it, too.



Today's track: Real - Plumb

poser

Oh, L. It is physically impossible for him to act like a normal human being. The one smiling shot of him is only in existence, because one moment before I snapped, I had said "yes" to the generally unthinkable: "Mom, can I take a picture of you?" (Under normal circumstances, he is not allowed to come within 3 inches of my camera, but I was tired and broken down this day. Weak moment.)



Evidence of giving in:



He's graduated from the blurry, chin-only shot. Gross motor skills must be improving. When reviewing his handiwork on the playback feature, he commented, "Oh, Mom, you are so beautiful!" Without a hint of patronage.

And that's why he's still around here.



Today's track: This Boy - I'm From Barcelona

washed and disinfected

Pretty.

not for the claustrophobic

My weekend frivolity post never included any pics. Here are a few from the craaaaaazy open house. It'll be a while before I do this again...



A few kids found a space in the hallway to chow down.



Potluck. As in, test your luck with the hodge podge of dishes people bring.



I tried to keep the kids in the back rooms where all the toys were, but it just wasn't happening.



Alethea and her hilarious stories. I already miss her.





I love when Bruce laughs at his own jokes.



This family was worth the craziness. Good people warm my heart.



Oh, yes. Love this little family, too.



Love and friendship. Who could ask for anything more? Wait... there's a song about this... ah. Too tired to look for it. Maybe tomorrow.

"The sun has gone to bed
And so must I.
So long, farewell,
Auf Weidersehen, goodbye..."

girl

I love when M runs to me with her arms wide open, has a huge smile on her face, and yells, "MOMMY!!!!" Everyone should feel so loved.



I know. Her arm freaks me out, too, when I look at this pic. She's a crazy girl.

dream

Slept for 11 1/2 hours last night. Tired or something.

Had a dream I was in the theater watching Edward and Bella in New Moon, but then I ended up in the movie, running from Cyborg (is this an actual DC Comics character?) who was also trying to ruin Edward and Bella with his swiveling, all-knowing, robotic eye, and it all took place in New Mexico.



Possible sources of the dream:

• I'd just watched the New Moon trailer the other day.
• But what I really want to see is Terminator Salvation and Transformers.
• I'd picked up the book Harry Potter and The Goblet of Fire yesterday.
  
• We live in Mexico, but my subconscious wishes it was The United States.
• I didn't drink enough water yesterday.

I dream crazy when I'm dehydrated.



Today's track: Dream - Everly Brothers

weekend frivolity

I get nervous when I haven't blogged in several days. It's a lot of pressure to keep this blog thing going. Pressure being mostly from my mom. I know she checks it religiously multiple times a day. So uh...

Hi, Mom. Still here. Still alive.

So what has been going on since I last blogged?

Thursday...
Not much. I exercised and had a date night with Bruce. I made him cut and paste treasure hunt clues onto construction paper this night for my upcoming Primary activity Saturday morning. True love.

Friday...
8:30 a.m. Taught a BodyFlow class.
10:00 a.m. Went to Costco to stock up on food for an Open House I would be hosting Sunday night. Our bishop and his family are moving to Panama. Goodbyes are sad.
12:00 p.m. Read to L's class at school. Smog the City Dog and The Gingerbread Boy - crowd favorites. I also whipped out a couple Primary wiggle songs. The teachers were awed. Blessings of righteous living.
2:00 p.m. Took the kids to the pool so they could swim while I did laps. Got a nasty sunburn in the effort.
6:30 p.m. Went out to a movie with friends. Watched Star Trek. I liked it.
10:00 p.m. Stopped by a work party with Bruce's colleagues. Accountants are a generally boring bunch. Mexican accountants, though, buck the stereotype. These guys are a riot.
11:30 p.m. Finished preparing for the Primary activity.

Saturday...
8:30 a.m. Drove to the church to set up. Broke a sweat running around, placing clues.
10:00 a.m. The kiddies arrived.
11:00 a.m. We were all making "squeeze fudge" (a fun and easy recipe, courtesy of my darling 1st counselor, Amanda) in the multi-purpose room. Several of the kids commented to me that the refreshment looked like poop in a bag, which made it 100x more awesome than say... lemon bars.
12:00 p.m. Came home from the activity and got to work making 300 meatballs for this upcoming Open House. Something disgusting about rolling that much raw meat in one's hands.
3:00 p.m. Still rolling meatballs.
6:00 p.m Still rolling meatballs.
8:30 p.m. Headed to the gym in an effort to escape rolling meatballs. Spent 40 minutes on a stationary bike. Felt like screaming.

Sunday...
Spent the morning setting up for the Open House and preparing for 100+ people to enter our humble abode.
1:00 p.m. Headed to Church. Spent most of the three hours fretting over my Nursery of eleven 18-month- to 3-year-olds in one tiny, hot room. Nursery troubles me often.
4:00 p.m. Ran home to prepare for the Open House.
9:45 p.m. Kids were in bed and the Open House was over. That was a lot of people and children in 300 meters-squared.

Fun and busy weekends are good and memorable. But I'm not doing anything next weekend. Don't call me. I'm not interested.

Unless you're cooking. Then I'll reconsider.

ward social

Let's forget I ever posted those last two posts. Moving on. Here are pics from the ward social. Good, wholesome, clean fun.

M, super excited to see her nursery leader (who is no longer her nursery leader - thank you, Lauren, for totally raushing my Primary system. Does a RS Prez really need counselors? Seriously overrated.)



Helping herself... not unlike the dirty valet guys.







Checking out a frog that kept them occupied for a solid two hours. It's the simple things.







Someone please tell me there are other kids who pose like this for the camera.







Probably trying to convince his buddy, Zach, to do something naughty.







I don't know who brought the pink rider to the party, but I do know they didn't have a rat's chance of getting it back from M and her kung fu death grip until we'd left.



Bruce secretly loves ward parties. He's a total socialite... just kidding (or am I??). Really, he loves any excuse to play sports. You can always count on him to bring the ball.



B getting totally rocked:







Ouch. Sad and a little awesome that I caught it on camera.



He was a bit bummed afterward (poor guy), but I guess that's what happens when you play with the big boys.

Sigh. No one's gonna love these babes more than I do.



Today's track: No One's Gonna Love You - Band of Horses