As many of you know, I had my gallbladder taken out over a year ago. It was a fairly traumatic experience all around, and has had several lasting effects, not the least of these being that we are now $30,000 in debt thanks to my handy gallbladder and our lack of medical insurance at the time.
Sidenote: It is cheaper to pay out of pocket monthly for insurance than upfront for an emergency surgery. Especially when you make too much money (HA!!) to qualify for any kind of aid, but too little to actually pay the bill. Sheer awesomeness of middle class life. So.
I have recently discovered that I have begun comparing things in life to my gallbladder. For example, we could have gone on SEVERAL family vacations for the cost of my gallbladder. Or we could own 2 VERY nice vehicles for the cost of my gallbladder. We also could be 100% debt free (with the exception of our house, of course), and have about $25,000 in fun money for the cost of my gallbladder.
The more alarming trend is when I do this just by route as I come across something. I often think, "Wow, that's a quarter the cost of my gallbladder!" Or, "I could buy 8 of those for the cost of my gallbladder."
Which is sad, because honestly, I would happily just take my gallbladder back if we could wipe the slate clean. It is oddly funny and slightly off kilter to randomly be in the store and have the "I could buy 14 of those TV's for the cost of my gallbladder." Put's things in perspective a bit.
Sunday, July 1, 2012
Thursday, June 14, 2012
College v. The Movies- What would Jesus do?
As we were driving today, Bishop and I got into a discussion about college, what college is, who goes to college, when you go to college...that sort of preschool conversation that often goes incredibly wrong in the blink of an eye. In this case, the blink of an eye came upon us when Jesus entered the equation. Like this:
Me "Only big kids who are all done with school go to college"
B "Like you and Daddy?"
Me "That's right, like mommy and daddy"
B "And me? I'm a big kid"
Me "But you have to go to school first, then you can go to college"
B "Oh."
Moment of silent contemplation...always dangerous.
B "I'm not going to college"
Me "Really, why not?"
B "Well, I am going to be in movies, like Jesus"
Me *silence* "Uh..."
B "Jesus went to college?"
Me "Well, no, but"
B "I am not going to college like Jesus didn't. Jesus is in lots of movies, and he dies in them."
Me "Yeah, I guess that's true, but..."
B "I'm not going to college, I'm going to be in movies"
And this is the point that you realize the good old "What would Jesus Do" question is actually not helpful when you are talking to your children about things that Jesus never did. Especially when they believe that Jesus was an awesome movie star who repeatedly died in movies, only to go on the the next movie and die again. He even had movies named after him (Jesus, the movie). Where could a 4 year old go wrong with this reasoning? At the end of the day, yeah, Jesus died for our sins, but this all came AFTER his amazing film career. The books of the Bible that documents (haha, documentaries? Get it?) this part of his life were left out due to them holding the movement back (they didn't really add to the overall story, know what I mean?).
So what does Bishop want to be when he grows up? Jesus.
The one who starred in all those movies and gets to have some sweet action adventures.
Me "Only big kids who are all done with school go to college"
B "Like you and Daddy?"
Me "That's right, like mommy and daddy"
B "And me? I'm a big kid"
Me "But you have to go to school first, then you can go to college"
B "Oh."
Moment of silent contemplation...always dangerous.
B "I'm not going to college"
Me "Really, why not?"
B "Well, I am going to be in movies, like Jesus"
Me *silence* "Uh..."
B "Jesus went to college?"
Me "Well, no, but"
B "I am not going to college like Jesus didn't. Jesus is in lots of movies, and he dies in them."
Me "Yeah, I guess that's true, but..."
B "I'm not going to college, I'm going to be in movies"
And this is the point that you realize the good old "What would Jesus Do" question is actually not helpful when you are talking to your children about things that Jesus never did. Especially when they believe that Jesus was an awesome movie star who repeatedly died in movies, only to go on the the next movie and die again. He even had movies named after him (Jesus, the movie). Where could a 4 year old go wrong with this reasoning? At the end of the day, yeah, Jesus died for our sins, but this all came AFTER his amazing film career. The books of the Bible that documents (haha, documentaries? Get it?) this part of his life were left out due to them holding the movement back (they didn't really add to the overall story, know what I mean?).
So what does Bishop want to be when he grows up? Jesus.
The one who starred in all those movies and gets to have some sweet action adventures.
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
Princess Diaries
Bishop was "braiding" my hair a few minutes ago when I caught a whiff...if you know what I mean. So I asked him if he needed to go potty or if he had farted. He said no, and that is when I realize that Cadence is standing next to me. With poop wiped on her chest Brave Heart style. This is one of those moments that you can later reflect on and wonder, "When did I sign on for Brave Heart poop?" I don't remember that being on the baby list. Alas, since Cadence is my second, and FAR WORSE has happened in my home, I simply ushered her into the bathroom, and that's where I found the gift she left me. NEXT to her potty. Right by her diaper.
Clearly she took her diaper off, sat on the potty, decided it wasn't really working out for her, got up, pooped next to the potty, and decided finger painting was on the menu for the evening entertainment.
Hey, I liked finger painting when I was a kid...pretty sure it was always with FINGER PAINT and not poop, but she is 17 months old and not too picky about her color choices. So, being the seasoned mother that I am , I cleaned her up, cleaned up the poop, sanitized everything, and then popped her into the bath for further washing. Because at somepoint in the 4 years that I have been a mom, dealing with my children's poop being wiped on things (themselves included) isn't really all that bad. Don't get me wrong, I am super happy it wasn't rubbed into the rug, which is harder to clean, but meh, poop wipes up.
I feel like this would have been a MUCH bigger deal 3 years ago. Especially since the poop was on her. I don't even know if she licked her fingers. THAT is where my mind automatically goes. Gross.
Clearly she took her diaper off, sat on the potty, decided it wasn't really working out for her, got up, pooped next to the potty, and decided finger painting was on the menu for the evening entertainment.
Hey, I liked finger painting when I was a kid...pretty sure it was always with FINGER PAINT and not poop, but she is 17 months old and not too picky about her color choices. So, being the seasoned mother that I am , I cleaned her up, cleaned up the poop, sanitized everything, and then popped her into the bath for further washing. Because at somepoint in the 4 years that I have been a mom, dealing with my children's poop being wiped on things (themselves included) isn't really all that bad. Don't get me wrong, I am super happy it wasn't rubbed into the rug, which is harder to clean, but meh, poop wipes up.
I feel like this would have been a MUCH bigger deal 3 years ago. Especially since the poop was on her. I don't even know if she licked her fingers. THAT is where my mind automatically goes. Gross.
Friday, June 8, 2012
Comments from the other room
Today marks the first day that Zach has started sending me unnecessary texts. This is a landmark for several reasons, the least of which is that Zach isn't even willing to type out "OK" and will just send "K" or "Y" for yes and "N" for no. Really, if you ever plan to text the man, you should just be aware going in that he only answers yes or no questions. Otherwise, you will probably get a call. Also, if you get a long, drawn out, well written text, it means he handed the phone off to me, and is now dictating a ridiculous number of words for me to type into his flip phone. Here is the first incident this morning.
So Zach is on facebook, and some random girl who is friends with his younger brothers, but clearly doesn't actually know Zach starts instant messaging him on facebook, asking him questions that we know she isn't really meaning to ask him (like, when did he move out of his parents house...answer? While you were in diapers), but possibly is mistaking him for Casey. Which is hard to do, since Zach is spelled Z-a-c-h and Casey is not. Anyways, Zach, being consistently awkward in these types of situations, hands it off to me to respond to because he needs to go water the grass. About 5 minutes later, I get a text from him "Hows the convo going?" and this is when I realize that he is in the bathroom. About 20 ft from me. So I just yell out, "It's fine" and promptly end said conversation with random/confused girl who is now asking if my children are twins and if I went to some concert. *sigh*
About 20 minutes ago, while discussing how to interpret a verse that we are supposed to be teaching about on Sunday, I finally get him to leave me alone so I can focus, and he tells me he is going into the other room to study and that he will send me enlightened suggestions from there. Seconds later I get a text saying "Test"
Save me. Save me now. Maybe I should just go hide my phone in the same room as him and change the message notification to Alarm or something equally charming?
Maybe I will just go to bed.
So Zach is on facebook, and some random girl who is friends with his younger brothers, but clearly doesn't actually know Zach starts instant messaging him on facebook, asking him questions that we know she isn't really meaning to ask him (like, when did he move out of his parents house...answer? While you were in diapers), but possibly is mistaking him for Casey. Which is hard to do, since Zach is spelled Z-a-c-h and Casey is not. Anyways, Zach, being consistently awkward in these types of situations, hands it off to me to respond to because he needs to go water the grass. About 5 minutes later, I get a text from him "Hows the convo going?" and this is when I realize that he is in the bathroom. About 20 ft from me. So I just yell out, "It's fine" and promptly end said conversation with random/confused girl who is now asking if my children are twins and if I went to some concert. *sigh*
About 20 minutes ago, while discussing how to interpret a verse that we are supposed to be teaching about on Sunday, I finally get him to leave me alone so I can focus, and he tells me he is going into the other room to study and that he will send me enlightened suggestions from there. Seconds later I get a text saying "Test"
Save me. Save me now. Maybe I should just go hide my phone in the same room as him and change the message notification to Alarm or something equally charming?
Maybe I will just go to bed.
Saturday, May 26, 2012
Dogs in a sweater
Introducing!!! Dogs in a Sweater, the more fun, interesting and tasty version of pigs in a blanket. Actually, I found this idea somewhere else, but have changed it to use my bread recipe, which was passed to me from my mother in law. It is the best bread recipe I have ever, ever come across for just bread rolls, biscuits, and now, dogs in a sweater. So, here is what you will need-
Hot dogs
Popsicle sticks (I found some in the art section of Smiths ;) )
And bread, using the following recipe:
Bread-stick/Biscuits Recipe
1 cup WARM water
2 tbs sugar
2 tbs yeast
1 tsp salt
2 tbs oil
3 cups flour
Preheat over to 450
Mix water, sugar, yeast, salt, and oil together. Let sit for about 5 minutes to let yeast bubble.
Slowly (1 cup at a time) add flour, mixing well. The last cup usually needs to be added by hand.
Take hot dogs, and skewer with popsicle sticks. Leave as much as you want for a handle.
Take dough, make "snake" about 16 inches long (depending on your hot dog) and starting at the top, wrap around to the bottom.
Bake for 5-8 minutes, until bread is golden brown. DO NOT OVER COOK! It is possible to burn the popsicle sticks and light them on fire...which is our next recipe: Roasted Dogs in a Sweater.
But actually, I adore this bread recipe. It is just awesome, and it is also the bread I use when I make Stromboli. Delicious!!!
Hot dogs
Popsicle sticks (I found some in the art section of Smiths ;) )
And bread, using the following recipe:
Bread-stick/Biscuits Recipe
1 cup WARM water
2 tbs sugar
2 tbs yeast
1 tsp salt
2 tbs oil
3 cups flour
Preheat over to 450
Mix water, sugar, yeast, salt, and oil together. Let sit for about 5 minutes to let yeast bubble.
Slowly (1 cup at a time) add flour, mixing well. The last cup usually needs to be added by hand.
Take hot dogs, and skewer with popsicle sticks. Leave as much as you want for a handle.
Take dough, make "snake" about 16 inches long (depending on your hot dog) and starting at the top, wrap around to the bottom.
Bake for 5-8 minutes, until bread is golden brown. DO NOT OVER COOK! It is possible to burn the popsicle sticks and light them on fire...which is our next recipe: Roasted Dogs in a Sweater.
But actually, I adore this bread recipe. It is just awesome, and it is also the bread I use when I make Stromboli. Delicious!!!
Saturday, May 19, 2012
SkippyJon Jones and other choices
I know, I am blogging 2 days in a row, it is crazy to me too. Mainly this occurred to me, and I wanted to write it down and also, our computer is up and running, thus why I am able to post and also why Zach has made a facebook reappearance. You are welcome, world!
So Bishop has come to an age that his little independence is sometimes stifling. For us as parents, that is. Actually, stifle is the wrong word. He is getting fairly mouthy. A perfect example is that we will be all together in the car, and he will be saying, "Hey Dad, hey Dad, hey Dad, hey Dad" While Zach is talking to me about something, and I will finally cut in with, "What, Bishop?" And he promptly replies, "NO! I'm talkin' to DAD"
Ahem. That is a good example. He has also recently decided that he is the ruler of his own life. Which, to a point, we do allow him to pick things. For example, yesterday, we were spending a Barnes and Noble gift card he got, and I really wanted him to get a certain book (The Story of Ferdinand) and he decided that he wanted to get a different book. That we had never read before and knew nothing about. BUT the book came with a little super-hero cat action figure. THAT was the selling point. And because it was a set, it was all boxed up so I couldn't even glance though to book to be sure it was something we would like. Bishop, however, insisted THAT was the book he absolutely needed. The book is called SkippyJon Jones, and it turns out that it is actually really funny and cute.
It is about a little Siamese cat named SkippyJon who pretends to be a dog and save the day for this other group of little dogs whose beans were all stolen by a bumblebee. It basically makes everything sound Hispanic by adding a 'o' to the end of most words. Here is an example:
Then the smallest of the small ones spoke up.
"Why the maskito, dude?" asked Poquito Tito
"I go incognito," said Skippito.
"Do you like rice and beans?" asked Pintolito.
"Si, I love mice and beans," said Skippito.
"He might be the dog of our dreams," whispered Rosalita.
You see what I am saying here. It is a cute book, and pretty funny, but not the book of my choice. And because it was a card for Bishop...well, whatever, obviously I let him pick. I also bought The Story of Ferdinand, mainly because I wanted it, and I knew that Bishop would actually really like it better (because I am the mom, and know things like that).
Then comes the worst part. Bishop has now decided that he should get to pick out his own clothes. He usually does okay, but today, for example, he is wearing these sweats that are a 3T, meaning, too short, and a 4T shirt, which is fine, but it makes his pants look extra small. And he INSISTED that he needed to wear those pants. Not shorts, not a different pair of pants. Those ones. And I realized a few minutes ago that he looks like a little homeless boy, with his hair a little crazy from his nap, and his too small pants and normal sized shirt. And he is old enough that I can't just change his clothes if I don't like them.
Though, to be honest, if they were really bad and we were going somewhere, I would force the issue. But we are just playing in the backyard, and why not let him pick out his own clothes? The point of this whole blog is that Bishop is growing up and become autonomous, and it makes me sad.
The End.
So Bishop has come to an age that his little independence is sometimes stifling. For us as parents, that is. Actually, stifle is the wrong word. He is getting fairly mouthy. A perfect example is that we will be all together in the car, and he will be saying, "Hey Dad, hey Dad, hey Dad, hey Dad" While Zach is talking to me about something, and I will finally cut in with, "What, Bishop?" And he promptly replies, "NO! I'm talkin' to DAD"
Ahem. That is a good example. He has also recently decided that he is the ruler of his own life. Which, to a point, we do allow him to pick things. For example, yesterday, we were spending a Barnes and Noble gift card he got, and I really wanted him to get a certain book (The Story of Ferdinand) and he decided that he wanted to get a different book. That we had never read before and knew nothing about. BUT the book came with a little super-hero cat action figure. THAT was the selling point. And because it was a set, it was all boxed up so I couldn't even glance though to book to be sure it was something we would like. Bishop, however, insisted THAT was the book he absolutely needed. The book is called SkippyJon Jones, and it turns out that it is actually really funny and cute.
It is about a little Siamese cat named SkippyJon who pretends to be a dog and save the day for this other group of little dogs whose beans were all stolen by a bumblebee. It basically makes everything sound Hispanic by adding a 'o' to the end of most words. Here is an example:
Then the smallest of the small ones spoke up.
"Why the maskito, dude?" asked Poquito Tito
"I go incognito," said Skippito.
"Do you like rice and beans?" asked Pintolito.
"Si, I love mice and beans," said Skippito.
"He might be the dog of our dreams," whispered Rosalita.
You see what I am saying here. It is a cute book, and pretty funny, but not the book of my choice. And because it was a card for Bishop...well, whatever, obviously I let him pick. I also bought The Story of Ferdinand, mainly because I wanted it, and I knew that Bishop would actually really like it better (because I am the mom, and know things like that).
Then comes the worst part. Bishop has now decided that he should get to pick out his own clothes. He usually does okay, but today, for example, he is wearing these sweats that are a 3T, meaning, too short, and a 4T shirt, which is fine, but it makes his pants look extra small. And he INSISTED that he needed to wear those pants. Not shorts, not a different pair of pants. Those ones. And I realized a few minutes ago that he looks like a little homeless boy, with his hair a little crazy from his nap, and his too small pants and normal sized shirt. And he is old enough that I can't just change his clothes if I don't like them.
Though, to be honest, if they were really bad and we were going somewhere, I would force the issue. But we are just playing in the backyard, and why not let him pick out his own clothes? The point of this whole blog is that Bishop is growing up and become autonomous, and it makes me sad.
The End.
Friday, May 18, 2012
Awkward moments from the past revisited.
I only have a moment to write this, as Cadence is insisting that we have a dance party in her room and WILL NOT take 'no' for an answer. So she is sobbing at my feet in the meantime.
I had a quick run-in with a guy today that made an impression in my past. Do I mean an old boyfriend? Of course not. I mean a guy I met in a bowling ally while engaged to Zach that just wouldn't leave me, Zach, or Zach's buddy and his date alone. Literally. Here is the story.
Many moons ago (closing in on 8 years ago, sheesh) Zach and I, in an effort to find something to do in Twin Falls, Idaho, while dating/being engaged, would often go to the bowling ally in Twin Falls to play pool. It was the only place with pool tables and very few drunks ;) So one night, there we are, waiting for a table to open up up, canoodling on some stools, when this guy in a wheelchair rolls up (ahem, literally.) and tells us that he has been watching us. And that we look like good kissers, and how someday, he hopes that he will have a girl like me to kiss. And do I have a twin (this really happened, ask Zach) that he could meet.
We mumble our way through this incredibly awkward conversation while this guy refuses to leave, and keeps talking about how pretty I am, how nice my smile is, how sure am I that I don't have a twin...you get the point. He FINALLY leaves when we get a table, and we think we are safe. A buddy of Zach's from some distant past/fellow youth member/church goer...you get the idea, and his date run into us. They are on their first date, and when she wanders off to go to the bathroom or something along those lines (having never met her before, I wasn't under the "go with her to the bathroom" rule), he tells us that the date is going good, but that she is LDS, and there have been some awkward moments. She comes back, we are all talking, and who should come by? That's right, wheelchair guy. He then dominates the conversation, awkwardly talking about how he doesn't really date, but would like to (while staring me and this girl down) and that he is just looking for the right girl (staring....). Somehow it comes out that he is also LDS and he and the girl start chatting away. I don't really remember the specifics past this, other than that he wouldn't leave, basically hijacked this poor guys first date, and we all left at the same time to escape him.
Zach and I joked about this guy for a LONG time afterwards, and never ran into him again at the bowling alley, thankfully. Basically anytime we saw a guy in a wheelchair, we booked it out of there.
Fast forward to today, and it has been years since I have even thought about this guy. So I am stopped at a stop light on my way home from hanging out with Jemme, and who should roll across the crosswalk in front of me? WHEELCHAIR GUY!!! My window is down, and he says, "Hey, how you doin'?" to which I mumble, "Good" realizing that it is the same guy!!! Then...what does he say?!?!
"You have a really nice smile"
I rolled up my window at this point and drove off. UH...really wheelchair guy?
I am under no belief that he remember who I am. I may have called Zach right away to tell him what happened...because, really!? What are the chances! And that he would make awkward comments again?!
Luckily I wasn't kissing anyone, because we know where that conversation would have gone.
As a side note, I am currently addicted to Christina Perri's A Thousand Years and have listened to it over and over for the last couple of days. Ah.
Also, in the time it has taken me to write this, Cadence fell asleep on my lap, I changed her into PJ's and put her into bed. Dance party postponed until tomorrow. I did just buy her a CD player for her room, thus the need to dance (since there is music, there must be dancing). I love my girl.
I had a quick run-in with a guy today that made an impression in my past. Do I mean an old boyfriend? Of course not. I mean a guy I met in a bowling ally while engaged to Zach that just wouldn't leave me, Zach, or Zach's buddy and his date alone. Literally. Here is the story.
Many moons ago (closing in on 8 years ago, sheesh) Zach and I, in an effort to find something to do in Twin Falls, Idaho, while dating/being engaged, would often go to the bowling ally in Twin Falls to play pool. It was the only place with pool tables and very few drunks ;) So one night, there we are, waiting for a table to open up up, canoodling on some stools, when this guy in a wheelchair rolls up (ahem, literally.) and tells us that he has been watching us. And that we look like good kissers, and how someday, he hopes that he will have a girl like me to kiss. And do I have a twin (this really happened, ask Zach) that he could meet.
We mumble our way through this incredibly awkward conversation while this guy refuses to leave, and keeps talking about how pretty I am, how nice my smile is, how sure am I that I don't have a twin...you get the point. He FINALLY leaves when we get a table, and we think we are safe. A buddy of Zach's from some distant past/fellow youth member/church goer...you get the idea, and his date run into us. They are on their first date, and when she wanders off to go to the bathroom or something along those lines (having never met her before, I wasn't under the "go with her to the bathroom" rule), he tells us that the date is going good, but that she is LDS, and there have been some awkward moments. She comes back, we are all talking, and who should come by? That's right, wheelchair guy. He then dominates the conversation, awkwardly talking about how he doesn't really date, but would like to (while staring me and this girl down) and that he is just looking for the right girl (staring....). Somehow it comes out that he is also LDS and he and the girl start chatting away. I don't really remember the specifics past this, other than that he wouldn't leave, basically hijacked this poor guys first date, and we all left at the same time to escape him.
Zach and I joked about this guy for a LONG time afterwards, and never ran into him again at the bowling alley, thankfully. Basically anytime we saw a guy in a wheelchair, we booked it out of there.
Fast forward to today, and it has been years since I have even thought about this guy. So I am stopped at a stop light on my way home from hanging out with Jemme, and who should roll across the crosswalk in front of me? WHEELCHAIR GUY!!! My window is down, and he says, "Hey, how you doin'?" to which I mumble, "Good" realizing that it is the same guy!!! Then...what does he say?!?!
"You have a really nice smile"
I rolled up my window at this point and drove off. UH...really wheelchair guy?
I am under no belief that he remember who I am. I may have called Zach right away to tell him what happened...because, really!? What are the chances! And that he would make awkward comments again?!
Luckily I wasn't kissing anyone, because we know where that conversation would have gone.
As a side note, I am currently addicted to Christina Perri's A Thousand Years and have listened to it over and over for the last couple of days. Ah.
Also, in the time it has taken me to write this, Cadence fell asleep on my lap, I changed her into PJ's and put her into bed. Dance party postponed until tomorrow. I did just buy her a CD player for her room, thus the need to dance (since there is music, there must be dancing). I love my girl.
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