Another Dumb Tag Post

I've been tagged by my sister, Cathy. And although this feeds the idea that blogging is narcissistic, I will participate under the guise of family.

A: I am not posting the rules of the game because I don't like rules, and I try very hard not to follow them. And I will not tag anyone because I don't like to pressure people. If by chance you want to be tagged, email me and I will revise this.

10 years ago: I had just gotten out of a long term relationship. I moved into a cool old house on 200 N. 300 E. in Provo with some great friends; we had a blast.



I've posted this picture before, but these are my roommates and me at a Valentines day party we had that year.

I was going on dates with a guy named Ryan. Not the same Ryan as my friend Ryan H. who I would go snowboarding with along with Paul, Danni, Erica, and Cameron. We would try to get work off on Thursdays and head up to Sundance. No one would be there, and it seemed we had the mountain all to ourselves. We would stop in at the Bear Claw and have chips and salsa and hot chocolate. Good times.

Me in my snowboarding days.


About a month ago (ten years ago), I stopped by my parents' neighborhood single adult ward since all of my friends were home for Christmas. I ran into my now husband Brad (who I hadn't seen in months). We sat together in Sunday school and the teacher had asked him to share his testimony on a particular subject. As I listened to him, I thought, "why haven't I ever considered Brad as boyfriend material", and quickly dismissed the thought. Little did I know what 1998 held.

5 things on my to-do list today: 1.Laundry. 2.Finish this post. 3.Make dinner without becoming sick by the sight and smell of it. 4.Take half of our belongings to DI. 5.Go over ABC flashcards with Lulu.

Snacks I enjoy: Raw vegetables, fruit, cream cheese on crackers, juice, and salsa.

What I would do if I were suddenly made a billionaire: Give 10% to the LDS church because that is what you do if you are a good Mormon, right?
Not tell anyone because I have a hard time saying no, and I understand this is the most difficult thing for sudden millionaires. Try to be as productive as possible with it, which means I would have to ask my husband to advise me because he is smart with money, unlike me. By the way, I would only let him know I had like half a billion dollars.

3 of my bad habits: 1. I'm not very organized. My house is fairly clean, but not organized. 2. Letting the mail pile up. I hate mail! 3. Going over on my cell phone minutes, sorry Brad.

5 places I have lived: 1. Traverse City, MI 2. Laconia, New Hampshire 3. Crosby, MN
4. Glace Bay, Nova Scotia 5. Holladay, UT

5 jobs that I have had: Assistant Librarian, Home health care, Day care at Utah State Hospital, Awesome retirement worker and HT at Mesa Vista, and of course my long, notorious career at Danville.

5 Things people don't know about me: 1. I am not a competitive person. Competition makes me uncomfortable. I know some of you are reading this and are thinking I should just pack up and move to Europe because a lack of competitiveness is anti-American, but there you go. I think there is room for everyone to be successful, and if someone wants to compete with me I slowly back away. 2. I used to have to be involved in many things before I had Abram. I felt like I was missing out if I didn't go to play groups and book clubs and cooking groups and so on and so forth. Now, I don't feel that way anymore. I know some of you feel sorry for me for not getting out much, but I really am happy. Personally, I've found a lot of peace in just being still. I do miss my neighborhood sisters sometimes though. 3. I used to do an awesome Axle Rose impression (song and dance) back in high school. Now I only pull it out for my children, because 4, 3, and 1 year olds can truly appreciate the lyrical beauty of Sweet Child of Mine, Patience, and Knocking on Heaven's Door. 4. Some of you know this; I love to garden!

This was our garden in Minnesota.
I love the smell of the earth, watching vegetation grow, and of course, good food. Maybe it's my vegetarian roots, but I am in love with vegetables, especially those I've grown myself. I keep begging Brad to buy me a composter so I can produce my own compost, but I think he is afraid there may be a smell involved with composting. 5. This one isn't so much about me, it's just to cut back on the rampant narcissism. One of the sexiest things about my husband (in my opinion), is the fact that he is very intellectual, intelligent and introspective, but he doesn't have to advertise it. There is nothing that lacks sexiness like pontificating and posturing. This is why I have to beg to differ if someone says they find Tom Cruise sexy.

Don't you feel like you really know me now?

Still

There is so much, so much.
Age and time do not necessarily bring wisdom. The older I become, the more questions I have.
The more wrinkles I accrue, the more I realize my youthful clarity was misguided.

And I don't know. I am not prideful enough to tell you I do know.
But I do know there is peace. There is peace in the unknown.

Be still, and know that I am God...Psalms 46:10

I don't know why I, an impatient and reluctant mother am pregnant, yet again, so soon. Are there not others more worthy? More capable?

But there is a stillness in that question. Regardless of how silly or ungrateful, my heart is known.



And why, at not yet 13 weeks, am I a pot belly pig, with undetectable feet and mismatched socks?

I don't know what the answers are for my brother, or what the eternities hold. But stillness comes with the knowledge that the Lord lives. That He loves us. And love is what He expects from me.


Amidst the bleakness of this winter, with it's inversion blocking the brilliance of the sun and dropping the temperature (and the serotonin), I feel the still.

And even if I don't know, there is peace in the fact that I am known.

Updates

I originally began this blog in order to document my family, I wasn't doing such a hot job before May of 2007. I hoped to capture moments of my children's lives that I'm sure would dwindle along with my memory.
I feel as if maybe I've deviated a little from my true intent. So this post is to update everyone and remind my future self of the happenings of early 2008.



Brad is still working hard to take care of us at Griffiths & Turner. He is also solely responsible for the packing and loading of the magnificent eyesore (the pod) that is parked in front of our home. He is good to let me lie on the bed, feeble and listless.



I am feeble and listless. You get no current picture of me because I look like CRAP. If you came here for sunshine, you'll have to skip this part because I'm not spreading any.
The bacon cheese burger phase is over, I threw it up last night. I've moved on to dolce de leche and apples. Is there anything better than an apple? Simple perfection. Oh, I like Ruffles potato chips too. Did you want to talk about food? Because I can go on for hours. Food is my friend and my foe, my nemesis and my dearest friend (food is my friend, pregnancy is not).



Norah spends her time at preschool and watching for the abominable snowman in the daily blizzards. She asks me if the sound of the wind is the snowman. She wonders if daddy is tougher than the abominable snowman. She asks me if we are safe in our house. At least she eats her oranges every morning. Genius (but naughty) me told her that the abominable snowman doesn't like the smell of oranges on little children. I know that I'm bad, but I'm feeble.



Lulu started primary this year. I hid in the back of the room during opening exercises in order to check to see if she was dialed into what was going on. Last week, while the president did sharing time, she sat in the front row reading a book-never looking up. The week before, she played with a doll during sharing time. When singing time started she poped up and sang loud and proud, but I was concerned. I asked the president about Lulu. Brooke knows my concerns and so she said she put a picture of Christ in front of Lulu during sharing time while she had her head down looking at a book. Brooke asked Lulu who the picture was of. Lulu said, "Jesus Christ". All that really matters is that she knows who Jesus is, right?



Abram may or may not be close to walking. He does give the best kisses though. He is very close to being weened. See why I am feeble?


GUESS WHAT WE SAW MONDAY?






I was really hoping to not know what the sex of this baby was until it's birth.

How was I supposed to know that we would see a penis at an 11 week ultrasound?

Sell Out

Most of you are fortunate enough to only be acquainted with the (somewhat) conventional Martha.
Then there are those of you who have either known me for the duration of your lives and are obligated to love me regardless, or who have been unfortunate enough to gain my trust and love and feel obligated to love me. Either way, you are well acquainted with the Martha with the wildly unpopular opinions.
I do not wish to expose most of these opinions here, I am still working my way into most of your lives and hearts through conventionalism, and I don't believe that my quirks would be seen as endearing.



One of my least (but still somewhat) unpopular opinions is that fast food is of the devil. This is not to say that I have never partaken of the saturated (chemically-treated-deliciousness) fat of a french fry. Nor is it to say that I do not drive to the Iceburg once in a blue moon in order to obtain a Philly cheese steak. In weak moments, like those dances I have with the devil, I cave from the temptation. Also, (like those dances I have with the devil) I always end up feeling unfulfilled and remorseful. I have been pretty diligent about boycotting the big chains, I don't remember the last time I ate at McDonald's, Burger King, or Wendy's. That is until last night.
I was in full-blown pregnancy mode, just trying to survive with a half smile, lying on the bed at 9 p.m. slightly nauseas, and delirious with fatigue. Suddenly, and without forewarning, the dirty desire overwhelmed my body. My mouth craved it, my stomach sang for it, yea, my very soul demanded a bacon cheese burger. I called to my husband. I told him what I needed. He thought I might be joking. I assured him this was no joke. Like a diligent husband (who has knocked up his wife), he put his boots and coat on and headed to the nearest Wendy's.
There was no stop watch on hand, so I can not tell you if I broke a world record scarfing down those fries and that burger. I do know that there has never been a sweeter meal in recent memory (that is not saying much, my memory is pretty limited).

Other foods I boycott with enthusiasm but which have seemed to become daily requirements:

I have lectured long and hard on the evils of soda pop, but somehow the friendly, flirty bubbles of Sprite and the frothy headiness of Apple beer have worked their way into my heart.



Sugary treats without any nutritional value usually obligate my head to shake in denial. As of late, I routinely roast soft, pillowy marshmallows over my gas range by the half-dozen.



So yes, I've sold out. But only on a few things, and only in the name of keeping my food down. Those of you who know me well can still count on most of my unpopular views. I know they entertain you.

I wonder what this child will look and be like, considering what I feed him/her.

Santa's Best Hits in 2007

We are on the cusp of overcoming a miserable battle with the stomach flu. In fact, this morning I literally threw Norah off the toilet so I could throw up my breakfast. Too much information; I'll move on.

Santa did visit our home on the 25th, just in case you were wondering. I've decided to share a few of the gifts which have greatly enriched our lives.

First up, dress-ups galore have replaced any warm and common sense clothing.



An extremely loud and obnoxious Dora sofa encroaches upon most of our basement living (and running wild) space.





Abram has no need for any of the presents Santa left him, an unobstructed climb of the staircase is like winning the lottery and outshines any gift.



The life altering panini press. I have been lusting after this model from Williams & Sanoma for some time and now it is mine, all mine. I will share though.



The above is always on display in my kitchen. I am consistently intoxicated with the sweet acidity of balsamic vinegar and the moist tangyness of fresh mozzarella.
My chin drips extra virgin olive oil without shame. The roof of my mouth and tongue are raw from the abrasive crusty toasted Italian breads, but yet, I cannot stop. Like a junkie who needs her fix, I need my panini.



My favorite (so far) is the simple basil, tomato, fresh mozzarella panini.
You start with your favorite crusty Italian bread. Add a few leaves of fresh basil, pile the tomatoes on top of the basil (to avoid sogginess), sprinkle the tomatoes with salt, freshly ground pepper and oregano. Next, add the mozzarella. Place in the panini press and set the timer for 3 min.



DO NOT forget to dip every single bite into a mixture of extra virgin olive oil and balsamic vinegar with pepper.
My close second is bre cheese, spinach, pears and prosciutto on sour dough. YUM.

Enough about me, onto Brad.



I thought the drum set I allowed Santa to give Brad last Christmas would tide him over through this Christmas (drums are the gift that keep on giving, right?), but I learned on Christmas eve that I was wrong. Mommy did some very last minute shopping.
Christmas was saved and was lovely. Santa actually took it a bit easy this year because our big present lies north east of us and hopefully, will prove to be the real gift that keeps on giving.

Happy New Year!