take your protein pills and put your helmet on

We had a lovely Christmas holiday season, although we didn't do anything really nice for anyone.  We cleaned the church and went to the nursing home a few times, but that isn't really valiant or noble or anything. We went up to the church and roller skated and played basketball a few times.

We stayed in the Little America because Grant had a basketball tournament in Salt Lake, and that was fun. 

We had sushi and ramen for our New Year's Eve dinner, and though there were scoffers, it was fine.  They just didn't know that ramen could be healthy and delicious.  We played a mafia-type game called Werewolves of Millers Hollow and it seemed hard for some people to not immediately let everyone know what they were, but the victories and losses were spread between the werewolves and villagers pretty evenly, so that's okay. 

Now everyone is back into their school routine.  Grant has early morning practice every day but game days, which means he only misses the bus about once a week now.  Emmett just signed up for the robotics club, and has enjoyed tremendous success with his school dodgeball team.  Ike is pretty amped for the indoor soccer season to start and is watching the doorstep with bated breath, waiting for his new fancypants shin guards to arrive.  Willa is experiencing a low level of satisfaction with her life right now, because she would like to not ever do homework.

I was released as YW president on Sunday, which was sad but okay.  I hope I gave the girls what they needed. 

it'll leave you breathless, or with a nasty scar

Emmett came home from school on Monday just fit to be tied about all the homework he had--hours and hours it was going to take him, all day and all night it was going to take him, and could he please stay home from piano?  No, says I.  So about 7:00 that night he was done, even with the hour-plus errand of piano lessons.  I think he's just so tense about making sure everything gets done that it seems much more overwhelming than it is. 

Grant has his first real basketball game today.  Should be a party.  I'm just glad I had time to cut everybody's hair on Monday, because I didn't want him to look like a caveman for his first game. 

Two different people have commented lately on how well-behaved my kids are, which those of you who have been traveling down this road with us will agree is a gratifying surprise.  I think people have usually liked our kids pretty well, but they could have been accurately described as "challenging."  To be honest, Willa is still pretty naughty--there is a lot of whining and pouting--and Ike is very sweet but also a little bit rascally, so they're hitching on Grant and Emmett's coattails.  But I am certain that great things are in store for them as well. 

Last night was our ward Christmas party, and the Young Women were in charge of decorations, which is SO UNCOOL of them to do to us.  I don't do cutesy decorating things, nor do I wish to, but thankfully I have wonderful counselors and advisers and a good handful of girls even showed up to help, and it turned out really nice.  I hate to say this, but the meat was substandard.  The same guy did it who always does, and he makes the best brisket and ribs, but some genius, I don't know if it was him or not, had the idea to do prime rib last night.  Big mistake.  Prime rib is not something you do for a crowd of 150+ people.  Also the Young Men were in charge of dessert, and that never materialized, so grr to them.  But the funeral potatoes--bereavement potatoes, as a great old lady in our ward calls them--were top-notch.  And at the end of the day, I didn't have to figure out what to cook for dinner, so it's a win, even without dessert. 

try something fresher, something pleasant!

On a whim John and I decided we'd take our family to Mexico for our fall vacation.  Thanks to Voice Male we get a week of vacation in a time share every other year, and one of the places is in a town just south of Tijuana called Rosarito.  It's been really wonderful.  Anytime I go on vacation I start feeling like I want to move to that place, and Rosarito is no different.  I could do it.  It would take me a minute to remember how to speak Spanish, but even now I can get by all right.  I know how to buy food anyway, and that's supposedly one of the important things. 

A briefish recap for record-keeping purposes: 

Last Friday we picked the kids up from school and started on our way.  When we got to Willard I remembered that our passports were at home on my nightstand, so we got to backtrack for that.  Then Willa was carsick and we had to pull over for her to throw up three or four times.  We got to our hotel in Las Vegas after midnight.  Breakfast Saturday morning was pretty good for a free hotel breakfast buffet.  We considered for a moment going to M&M World or Coke World, but then we remembered that that was a dumb idea.  Then we saddled up and drove the rest of the way to Rosarito, with a stop in Tijuana for fish tacos.  We grabbed some groceries for Sunday at the Comercial Mexicana, and I was in heaven because foreign grocery shopping is my favorite thing. 

On Sunday we went beachcombing in the morning.  There are so many sand dollars around here; they are just scattered around the beach like cookies--big, nice ones that haven't been smashed to pieces yet.  It's amazing how quickly you acclimate, because the first one we found that had only a small hole was like a miracle, and a half hour later, when we had a stack of six or seven, only the most perfect, unblemished specimens could even capture our attention.  Later we went to church in the Spanish branch in Rosarito.  We pulled a Nate and only went to Sacrament meeting because:  Espanol.  I got the main gist of the testimonies, but going to class would have been a total mare's nest.  We had omelets for dinner. 

Monday we took some food to an orphanage that John's friends had told him about.  They were all jazzed about it and said to mention their name, since they go there all the time, but the people we talked to were a little bit like "Who?"  They seem like they are so strapped, and they have so many charities coming in and out all the time, and so many kids to take care of--fifty in one house and forty-five in the other--that they don't really have the deep connection to any particular benefactor that the benefactor might hope for.  It's a great big mess, pretty much, but the kids were all smiling and friendly and seemed as happy as could be expected.  We ate some carne asada and tacos al pastor at Tacos la Gloria, and then we went and got two cocos.  I was hoping my children would have the same magical experience I did, watching the guy chop off the top of the coconut with a machete and then be able to drink the coconut water, but they all seemed kind of underwhelmed.  Oh well, more for me. 

We spent Tuesday and Wednesday at the beach and the pool.  I was not present while the meth-heads were scraping all the sea stars off the rocks and trying to sell them, but all the same it's a good thing I didn't have my smiting powers that day. 

Thursday we drove down to Ensenada to see La Bufadora (The Blowhole, a geological marvel, not to be confused with Blowhole the whale from that one episode of The Tick).  We were hounded by vendors and bought some marvelous things:  Willa one of those faux peasant outfits, Ike a luchador mask, John a wide-brimmed cowboy hat for irrigating, and me a painted terra cotta skull and a skull necklace.  I'm into skulls I guess.  I'm pretty goth. 

Friday we bought candies and food from our favorite vendors and took one last look at the tide pools during low tide.  All of the days we watched a lot of futbol with occasional Jeopardy and Price is Right and movies. 

Saturday we got up and out of there as quickly as we could and spent two hours in the line to cross the border back into the U.S.  Let's just make Canada, America and Mexico into one big country, shall we?  We ate lunch at a gas station where we were mistaken for Europeans, I guess because none of us were wearing white socks or sneakers and two of my kids were wearing soccer jerseys.  Then we surprised the kids by taking them to LEGOLAND, which we will not be going back to ever again if I have anything to say about it.  The models are amazing, and the kids liked the Mindstorm robot thing, but other than that it's a turd convention.  We only made it as far as Henderson that night. 

Sunday we got up and ate and left and were able to make it to Washington for church in what turned out to be a singles ward, and the lady who sat in front of us turned around and scolded my kids for kicking her bench.  She told us afterward that we had nice voices, probably because she felt bad and is trying to buy her way back into heaven.  We ate at the Mired Ox (Café Rio) with all the other Mormons on their way home from California.  Willa barfed I think three times on the way home.  I read Harry Potter OotP for seven hours.  We got home and had a beautiful reunion with the cats. 

I loved this vacation so much.  I want to go back to Mexico.  I want to move there!  I hope my kids remember it as fondly as I remember the trips I took with my family. 

keep smiling until then

We said hasta la vista to my sister tonight.  She's headed off on her mission for the next eighteen months, and we will miss her something fierce.  She's the first missionary out of all my sisters and me, partly because she's the first one to have the juevos to do it.  She made enough money to pay for her whole mission by selling cinnamon rolls every summer for the last nine years.  She came out of the womb just plain better than most people, and I am proud to know her. 

I can't show you any of the pictures with me in them, because I looked vomitrocious tonight.  But believe me, I was there.  Right before we went to the airport we stopped at the Rancho Market, which is a glorious wonderland of Mexican groceries, and we bought some stale chicharrones, a chocolate concha, and a weird ball-shaped thing covered in butter and sugar and filled with some kind of goop.   

 

We saw those guys who got flash-mob engaged in Home Depot last week and wondered if they were heading somewhere to get married.  I just want to make sure you all know that I disapprove of flash mobs to the utmost.  It seems like everyone in the video is part of the flash mob, so I'm wondering, who are they performing this for?  The only one that does not earn my undying ire (by which I mean it makes me cry) is that one where they play Peer Gynt on the train. 

 

Justine and Cannon brought cookies from Paradise Bakery, which were delicious.  Everybody took one, and there was just an oatmeal raisin one left, and someone asked, "Does anyone like oatmeal raisin?" and I pointed to my mom, and she said, "Oh, I thought everyone liked oatmeal raisin."  No, mom.  Just you.  Because oatmeal raisin is the worst cookie.  Can you even think of a cookie worse than oatmeal raisin?  A real cookie, not something made up like a barf cookie with poop frosting?  I don't think I can. 

even cameron said he stepped on the line

We had a spirited discussion in YW yesterday, not about pants or gender equality, but about how I refused to make them sandwiches with Miracle Whip.  It offends me to even type Miracle Whip, I hate it so much.  I would rather eat a dry sandwich or no sandwich at all than a sandwich befouled by that demon pretender to the condiment throne.

We got out our Playmobil nativity set last night, and just in time, because the children were running out of stupid things to fight about.  For a while they pretended to be doctors examining imaginary stool samples from the wise men, then they moved all the capes and hair and beards around and had a lovely time making Mary into a bearded lady.  I used to get more upset about this kind of thing, because I felt like maybe it was sacrilegious, but now eh.  I think there's space between the actual Holy Family and plastic toy incarnations of them.

Grant lost his handball game today and is sad.

Emmett has a piano Master Class today and is happy.

Ike is being a melodramatic wuss about his minor cough, and is happy about the attention.

Willa got to play Super Mario on the DS and is happy.

dad is great, give us the chocolate cake

I am giving a lesson in YW on Sunday about nutrition/Word of Wisdom and substance abuse.  I am so stoked!  Oh boy, I am going to make those teenage heads SPIN.

I've been a clean livin' boy, I promise you

I cut the boys' hair tonight. They hate it and complain endlessly when I cut their hair, because for some reason I guess it's not a horribly itchy living nightmare at the salon? Like official "hairstylists" have magic powers or something? Bull. They just like to make me sad. But I couldn't put up with their raggedy selves any longer. Emmett looked like an actual, living cat had taken up residence on his head, Ike looked like a toothless redneck, and Grant just needed to not think he was better than the other two. I appeased them by letting everybody watch Spongebob during the haircuts. Spongebob solves many problems.

Ike and Willa and I ate lunch at the Bombay Grill with Aleece and Lucy today. I put on a good show, but I didn't like my food as much as I usually do. Ever since I smashed my brainpan food hasn't sounded or tasted good to me. This is an alarming development that I hope is temporary. I've lost five pounds since Thursday, so I'm basically like a waif/model now, but I'd rather have lamb saagwala taste good again. I didn't even want to eat Lucky Charms at John's parents' house this weekend. Oh, it is distressing to me.

so bring some out here

I want to give you guys some parenting advice. Here it is: if you bribe your children with a Sunday Night Treat (it has to be capitalized) that can be earned or lost, their behavior in church will gradually improve until you can finally make it through all fifty minutes of Sacrament meeting (this is as far as we've made it)without having to take anybody out into the hall for squishing. But the Sunday Night Treat has to be something they actually want--carob bars will not work here.

Things that work for my kids:
root beer floats
popcorn
cookies
rice crispy treats
ice cream

Things that only work on one or two children, if at all:
pudding
cake
pie
fruit crisp

Speaking of crisp: we had some peach crisp at dinner last night that was really something. I did the peaches and Sarah did the topping, and it was super hard for me to not eat the whole pan. I think the fruit of eternal life is a peach.

Here's a funny story for you. Once when John was young his family was eating their standard popcorn and root beer on Sunday night. One of the kids got sick and barfed his popcorn all over the table. Everybody stared in shock, and then John's mom got a spoon and started scraping the popcorn off the table into a bowl to clean it up. One of the other kids thought she was trying to save it, and said, "Mom, it's okay. You can have my popcorn." Ha ha ha ha! So sweet and gross.

only one of many best days

Superman: "Chicken and dumplings? This is the best day ever!"

I love his exuberance.

travis would have been pleased

We all had a rollicking time on Saturday. The drapes were a huge help, and once John knocked the grill around a little bit it performed admirably. Assorted organ meats were consumed by all, as well as cartloads of fruit, scrumptious baked beans provided by Brittany (the secret ingredient is double the bacon!), and there were ice cream and doughnuts, recipes for which are over on Baba Capra. We played card games and frolicked in the water, and there was minimal crying. A success!

He's smiling because he's winning. Like always.

Michael knows that Dad always wins, and is resigned to his fate.

Captain America and Matthew preparing their arsenal, possibly testing it on Aebleskiver.

Pinga is eating an Orange Drop Doughnut.

Doughnuts are yummy.

If there's anything classier than a woman frying doughnuts in her swimsuit, I don't want to see it.

This is what was left of the doughnuts by the time John took a picture. They went fast.

The detritus from our revel.

Kids eating ice cream.

Sarah looking better than any pregnant woman has a right to.

How did a nice girl like her ever get mixed up with a crowd like this?

Michael is enjoying the ice cream so much that he left his cards face up, making himself vulnerable to sabotage.

Alec is thinking about how very much he hates the country.

Thanks for a good time and good food, everybody! I bet it would mean a lot to Travis.

you know it's going to be a good day when you find something perishable on your porch

And it wasn't even a human kidney! As much as I like organs and tissues, I was more excited to find this on my porch yesterday:



I recently did a little something-something for them, and this is my payment. So very, very awesome.

family holiday

Friday night we went to Morgan with all my family and stayed in a ginormo house with a pool, air hockey/pool table, two ovens (Eee!), huge TVs and tons of bed- and bathrooms. We went tubing on Saturday, churching on Sunday, left on Monday and were eating all the while. Everyone pulled out all the stops and made incredible crunchings and munchings for us that made us behave ourselves disgracefully and eat like ravenous swine. If I can get some pictures on this stupid machine I'll add them.

On Saturday Superman went down the hill twice and was no longer buying any crazy. Some doofus wasn't watching when she crossed the tubing lane, and Aleece wrecked into her and mashed her lip all up, also endangering little Espn. Kids today with their rock music and their premature lane crossing!

On Sunday there was a great talk to be heard in Sacrament meeting if only one had a directional noise canceller with which to silence each of the many rude people in the congregation conducting business in normal speaking voices. I, thankfully, was in the mother's room with a rioting Pinga, so I was able to hear much of the speaker's sound parenting advice.

We made cookies on Sunday night and had an impromptu decorating contest, which I'm fairly sure I lost. Claire was a fierce competitor, but I think Justine's white-frosted heart edged with sprinkle detritus was the best.

Monday the kids snuck in a quick swim, then we left for home, stopping on the way at the Beehive Cheese Company, a little bit more about which can be read over on Baba Capra. After taking care of our grateful animals, we went to Logan to visit John's parents and feed people our leftovers, as well as expose them to the conjunctivitis that The Hulk had mysteriously acquired. You're welcome, family!

back to the grind

My house is an appalling dump heap overflowing with the most disgraceful assortment of deplorable rubbish imaginable.

Well, not really, but I have been scaling an ever-growing Mt. Clothesheap for a few days now, and I think it's probably time I did something about it.

Pinga has a wicked ear infection in both ears and her eyes are so puffy she looks like she's been in a bar fight. Those kids and their darned curly Eustachian tubes! And stupid, useless amoxycillin. I don't know why anyone prescribes it anymore. Overprescription and abuse has rendered it totally ineffective.

We had a New Year's Eve party with yummy food. Thanks to all who participated.

his default setting is happy

Superman: "That's [Pinga]'s tummy, and that's Mom's tummy, and (breaking into song) Daaaaad's tummyyyy . . . is aaaaat woooooooorrrrrrrk!"

Superman: "This liver is so good, I want to eat tons of bites of it."

ward party chili--like normal chili, but with all the enjoyable side effects of olestra

So we got food poisoning from the ward party. There have been theories floated as to the legitimacy of the blessing on the food, but my money is on the fact that there were a bunch of slow cookers filled with lukewarm chili. The only one of us who didn't experience gastrointestinal distress of any kind is the Hulk, and naturally he had not eaten any chili. John's was not too severe, but he also ate out of a different pot than the rest of us. Within hours of the meal Captain America had emptied the entire contents of his stomach with the volume, force and velocity of a firehose--the kind of firehose that would be used if, say, the Christmas tree from Rockefeller Plaza were ablaze inside the Smithsonian. Pinga is still suffering from the ill-effects, and from the smell of the hallway, I can only surmise that she metamorphosed sometime during the night into a feces-based organism.

pizza friday

Friday night we had pizza for dinner. Homemade dough, homemade mozzarella, but I'm not going to lie to you . . . we used spaghetti sauce from the jar. Yes, I said spaghetti sauce, not pizza sauce. I don't buy that line extension.

Here we are assembling the dough.



Here are the toppings. Zucchini, spinach, cheese, salami, mushrooms, ham, olives, NO TOMATOES THEY ARE DEADLY YOU GUYS YOU WILL SERIOUSLY DIE PROBABLY.



It looked better after it was cooked, and it tasted great. Yay! Homemade pizza that tastes like pizza, not bread!

happy Travis Sorenson Day (Observed), y'all

We had an excellent Travis Sorenson Day. Our friends the Luthys had a satellite celebration in South Carolina, and blackberries were involved in the refreshments. Yum. Here at Ground Zero, there was a variety of meats cooked on the grill, fruit aplenty served on trays and in bowls, potato salad, badminton, volleyball, kiddie pool splashing, slippeysliding, lego building, movie watching, kitten petting, goat feeding and general goodwill.

Thank goodness it wasn't any hotter, or we would have cooked, because our outdoor drapes haven't arrived yet, and it got pretty bakey out on the patio. Thankfully there was shade from the garage, and we survived all right. Grandma Ruth cut down the only big tree in the backyard before she died, because she was positive it was going to blow over and hit the house. What is it with old people thinking that? Olene and Damsel Nelson were the same way--they had beautiful old trees and they chopped all of them down. Sillies. We have only one out of all John's brothers and sisters whose house was hit by a falling tree, and one out of eight is incredible odds, you guys.

The pictures:

We did the snowflake table paper as a subliminal message, so people would think they weren't hot.

Meat!

I bet Steven is asking, "If I were a steak on this grill, how rare would I be?"

The kids tanking up for their exhausting day of water fun.

"Hurry! If we don't eat more we won't get stomach cramps in the kiddie pool!"

What a nice weed patch this is to stand in.

mmm . . . burgers . . .

I'm sorry, dear, I just nodded off thinking about that cooler full of pies Travis brought on that hike that one time.

Pinga loves her groceries.

Thanks for a most rocking day, everyone. Such a swell time . . . Travis would want it that way.

blumekuchen and lebensmittel

Behold the cake that Aleece found in her magazine:

That frosting was so good, you guys. It was the sort of cake that you don't want to eat two pieces of right close to each other, because of the diabetic shock and all. Dave disagrees.

Also here are some of the meals I ate in Boulder:

Salmon Benedict from the hotel restaurant with fresh fruit and seared greens. It's my new favorite way to eat greens. The eggs were done perfectly, softy-firmy, not leathery at all, and they didn't even cheat and use a poaching pan. And! And! The roasted tomato? OH MY GOSH YOU GUYS. I would founder on those things.

My firecracker roll from Sushi Zanmai. It has little yummy bits of tempura, crab, salmon, avocado and sprouts in it. Delish. Also I almost forgot to talk about how I got trout sashimi that was some of the best sashimi I'd ever eaten. There is no picture of it because I am a pig and it was long gone by this point.

My boring, but yummy, goat cheese salad from the Boulder Cafe.

I didn't take pictures of our Monday night's dinner because: boring, and: chain food, but it was pretty good. I got a French dip, and it was good and came with sauteed onions, which is never bad.

We spent a bunch of money buying crap for our kids that will just make them more spoiled, but we never will learn! It's because they're so devilish cute.

a reminder . . .

. . . for those who are attending the festivities this Saturday to bring a grillable item of your choice if you wish, and a potluck something-or-other. We care not what it is.

an important announcement, now with more information

For anyone who may be nervous about attending a party whose guest of honor you don't know from Adam, rest assured that first-hand knowledge of Travis Sorenson is not required for admittance. Really it's just a party celebrating a made-up holiday, because that's how we roll at this house. Travis is a friend of The Dad, and has never failed to remember The Dad's birthday (I remember clearly the email he got wishing him a happy "turdy-turd"). We are so tired of feeling in his debt that we're going to declare a holiday in his honor, in order to obtain absolution. The Dad wanted to name Pinga 'Travis,' but I was not jazzed about that idea. I figure he'd rather have an eponymous party, anyway.

So come one, come all, to a sweet party at our house, and bring food and games. We'll provide the drinks and a grill, and y'all just let your imaginations run wild. We may end up with only desserts, or only potato salad, but we'll make do.