It is nearly 2 am and I am sitting in bed next to my blessed daughter, The Small One. Laying in bed with her is a bit easier sometimes, than with The Man of the House for one simple reason. He is a light sleeper, she is not. I can type, read, knit, listen to audiobooks, eat sunflower seeds, what have you, whilst in bed with her. With him? Not so much. So, I let him wander off to slumberland by his lonesome and I sit cozy in bed with my little fidget, because, you know, I don't always want to sit out in the front room to do whatever it is I am doing. It is lonely and not cozy.
That is not to say that I don't sometimes like to do just that. Sit out in the front room. In fact, sometimes, I like to fall asleep out there in front of the fire. But then, I usually wake up all sweaty, with drool on my pillow. Thus ends the romance.
Anyhoo...Did you know The Small One will be three in a couple of weeks? Three? THREE? What the...? Where did the time go? What happened to my wee sweet baby? I swear she was there a couple of minutes ago. Now she has been replaced by a smart, mouthy, funny, rowdy, hyper little girl. Or big girl, if you ask her. She likes to remind me that she is getting bigger. Of course, if she doesn't want to do something, well, she just tells me she is too little. Whatever. It always seems to work in her favour, sizewise.
She is a big girl, though. And one who brings me insane amounts of joy. Sometimes, okay, lots of times, I like to just sit and watch her. When she is unaware that she is being watched, she is soooo adorable. Does the funniest things. I love to watch her concentrate and try to blow bubbles. I love to watch her sit on the couch and color with her markers, so determined. Seeing her out in the yard playing with her daddy, her dogs and her chickens makes me smile.
And yes, they are her chickens, just ask her! She has 10 of them, in case you were curious.
She is a bold and independent sort, just the kind of girl I like. She is a girly tomboy, is that possible? She loves pink, and princesses and makeup and fluff and sparkles and dollies. And she loves racecars, and dumptrucks and dirt, and climbing and dogs and horses. And chickens, of course.
And I love her.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Sundays
Sunday mornings are sometimes difficult here our household. Not because we aren't holy and stuff, you know. Okay, we aren't holy, but we try. ;)
Anyway, The Small One, she does not enjoy having her routine messed with. And Sundays? They mess with her routine. Not pleasant.
I would like Sunday mornings to be nice and peaceful, but they aren't. In reality, they are an ongoing fight to get The Small One ready. And then, when we finally make our way to church, she fights about going to nursery, which is utterly ridiculous because she LIKES nursery!
This morning was no different than usual, fight, fight, fight, finally get to church, take her to nursery and she glues herself to me. So, I sit down in nursery with her and try to make her get off of me. I am not terribly successful. (And before you tell me I should just drop her off and let her cry, yeah, that doesn't work. She barfs if she cries too hard and the nursery leaders tell me they aren't up for that.) I rarely make it to my first meeting. Aargh.
Fortunately, she acclimates and I am usually able to leave her there at the point that they switch rooms. That means snacktime and as it involves cheese, she is always up for snacktime.
After I pick her up from nursery, it is time for the main meeting. Of course, having already been through 2 hours of church, the last hour is exceedingly difficult for her. She goes into the chapel and makes her rounds. There are certain people she has to say hi to before the meeting starts. Social little infant.
Then the meeting starts and so does the aggravation. She hates being trapped in a pew. We try to keep her entertained, but are not always successful because, you know, sometimes we like to listen to the speakers and not her. Oh, well.
Today, she picked up my scriptures and climbed into Daddy's lap for a story. He took them and started very quietly "Once upon a time..."
NOT GOOD!
She says, not quietly, THAT IS NOT HOW WE READ SCRIPTURES!!!! WE SAY "AND IT CAME TO PASS!!!!" Oh, dear. Well, at least she is familiar with the scriptures, right?
Anyway, The Small One, she does not enjoy having her routine messed with. And Sundays? They mess with her routine. Not pleasant.
I would like Sunday mornings to be nice and peaceful, but they aren't. In reality, they are an ongoing fight to get The Small One ready. And then, when we finally make our way to church, she fights about going to nursery, which is utterly ridiculous because she LIKES nursery!
This morning was no different than usual, fight, fight, fight, finally get to church, take her to nursery and she glues herself to me. So, I sit down in nursery with her and try to make her get off of me. I am not terribly successful. (And before you tell me I should just drop her off and let her cry, yeah, that doesn't work. She barfs if she cries too hard and the nursery leaders tell me they aren't up for that.) I rarely make it to my first meeting. Aargh.
Fortunately, she acclimates and I am usually able to leave her there at the point that they switch rooms. That means snacktime and as it involves cheese, she is always up for snacktime.
After I pick her up from nursery, it is time for the main meeting. Of course, having already been through 2 hours of church, the last hour is exceedingly difficult for her. She goes into the chapel and makes her rounds. There are certain people she has to say hi to before the meeting starts. Social little infant.
Then the meeting starts and so does the aggravation. She hates being trapped in a pew. We try to keep her entertained, but are not always successful because, you know, sometimes we like to listen to the speakers and not her. Oh, well.
Today, she picked up my scriptures and climbed into Daddy's lap for a story. He took them and started very quietly "Once upon a time..."
NOT GOOD!
She says, not quietly, THAT IS NOT HOW WE READ SCRIPTURES!!!! WE SAY "AND IT CAME TO PASS!!!!" Oh, dear. Well, at least she is familiar with the scriptures, right?
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Latest Words from the Small One
She continues to entertain.
Never fails, really.
Wanna hear the latest?
Because it is pretty amusing.
How about this.
Saturday, I got dressed in some fairly comfortable and, I thought, rather cute clothing. It consisted of black leggings, a tan turtleneck and a short black dress over the top.
I came out of my room in the outfit and added a knit headband and some Ugg style boots. And then I walked into the kitchen where The Small One was waiting to go to Memma's house. She took one look at me, crinkled up her adorable little face and said,
"Don't look like that! You need go change!"
I looked at her and smiled and inquired into her opinion concerning my attire. Do you like it?
"No, I fink its really, really, really, really ugly."
No exaggeration. She honestly said really at least 4 times. Maybe more. I laughed.
Shortly thereafter, The Man of the House walked in and looked at my outfit. Hmm, judging by the expression on his face, I gathered he didn't like it either. So, I asked his opinion of my sartorial choices. He thought I looked like a Russian peasant.
I took The Small One over to Memma's, still wearing said outfit and walked in the house. My mom looked at it and said, "Well, that's interesting." I told her to ask The Small One what she thought, so she did.
"Small One, do you like your mamma's dress?"
"Yes, it's...NO! I fink its kind of ugly!"
I took the dress off at that point. When she has such decided opinions about something, she is probably right.
And here, just for the sake of amusement, is a picture of The Small One eating a cinnamon toast sandwich. Without pants.
And here are a few pics of her hangin' with dad in the evening. This is a nearly nightly occurence.
They like to work together.
Oh, and I nearly forgot! A house exploded about 100 feet from me last week! How weird is that?!?!
The Small One and I had gone down to the Covey Center to meet The Man of the House, who was TD-ing a ballet in the space. We went to get dinner, took The Small One back to the Covey to watch the ballerinas for a bit (which she thoroughly enjoyed) and then she and I headed home. As we were nearing our turn, I considered heading over to the gas station to get a drink. Then I decided I didn't want to bother as The Small One had conked in the back seat and I didn't want to wake her and drag her in the store. So, I turned off State street to head home. Then, I remembered a very important fact.
There is a gas station nearby with a drive thru! Dr. Pepper would indeed be mine. So I turned down the next cross street to head over to said drive thru. It was about 7:40 in the evening and quite dark. There I was, driving calmly along in my lovely residential neighborhood when, all of a sudden,
KABLAAMMMMM!!!!
An earth shaking explosion. It shook my car, rattled the windows good, but curiously, did not wake The Small One! I looked in the direction of the sound and a HUGE plume of smoke and flame was rising over the trees just to my left. I reached the cross street and turned down it and then promptly had to pull over. The street was blocked with debris. Bricks, glass, insulation, stuff. I got out of my car and walked over to a girl standing nearby, in the parking lot of a local diner.
What happened? I queried. She looked at me, a bit shocked and said, "It just...it just...the house just exploded!!!!"
There was a loud hissing noise coming from where the house had been (there was not much left) which I realized was probably gas. I told the girl we should probably get out of there, she agreed and turned to go to her car in the parking lot and I realized she had been in the diner when the house blew. I got back in my own car, flipped a U and headed back up the street as the emergency vehicles came howling down (from 2 blocks away) And still, The Small One did not budge.
I drove back down the next day to see the damage, as I could ascertain nothing but a mess in the dark the previous night. And here, for your viewing enjoyment, are pics of said damage.
Notice the debris up in the tree.
The roof of the house and a semi trailer belonging to a nearby business.
Oh, and in case you wondered, I did not get my drink that night. I was so shaken from the violence of the explosion that I completely forgot about it. Blasted it clean out of my head, if you will.
Never fails, really.
Wanna hear the latest?
Because it is pretty amusing.
How about this.
Saturday, I got dressed in some fairly comfortable and, I thought, rather cute clothing. It consisted of black leggings, a tan turtleneck and a short black dress over the top.
I came out of my room in the outfit and added a knit headband and some Ugg style boots. And then I walked into the kitchen where The Small One was waiting to go to Memma's house. She took one look at me, crinkled up her adorable little face and said,
"Don't look like that! You need go change!"
I looked at her and smiled and inquired into her opinion concerning my attire. Do you like it?
"No, I fink its really, really, really, really ugly."
No exaggeration. She honestly said really at least 4 times. Maybe more. I laughed.
Shortly thereafter, The Man of the House walked in and looked at my outfit. Hmm, judging by the expression on his face, I gathered he didn't like it either. So, I asked his opinion of my sartorial choices. He thought I looked like a Russian peasant.
I took The Small One over to Memma's, still wearing said outfit and walked in the house. My mom looked at it and said, "Well, that's interesting." I told her to ask The Small One what she thought, so she did.
"Small One, do you like your mamma's dress?"
"Yes, it's...NO! I fink its kind of ugly!"
I took the dress off at that point. When she has such decided opinions about something, she is probably right.
And here, just for the sake of amusement, is a picture of The Small One eating a cinnamon toast sandwich. Without pants.
 |
| From Lilly |
And here are a few pics of her hangin' with dad in the evening. This is a nearly nightly occurence.
 |
| From Lilly |
 |
| From Lilly |
 |
| From Lilly |
They like to work together.
Oh, and I nearly forgot! A house exploded about 100 feet from me last week! How weird is that?!?!
The Small One and I had gone down to the Covey Center to meet The Man of the House, who was TD-ing a ballet in the space. We went to get dinner, took The Small One back to the Covey to watch the ballerinas for a bit (which she thoroughly enjoyed) and then she and I headed home. As we were nearing our turn, I considered heading over to the gas station to get a drink. Then I decided I didn't want to bother as The Small One had conked in the back seat and I didn't want to wake her and drag her in the store. So, I turned off State street to head home. Then, I remembered a very important fact.
There is a gas station nearby with a drive thru! Dr. Pepper would indeed be mine. So I turned down the next cross street to head over to said drive thru. It was about 7:40 in the evening and quite dark. There I was, driving calmly along in my lovely residential neighborhood when, all of a sudden,
KABLAAMMMMM!!!!
An earth shaking explosion. It shook my car, rattled the windows good, but curiously, did not wake The Small One! I looked in the direction of the sound and a HUGE plume of smoke and flame was rising over the trees just to my left. I reached the cross street and turned down it and then promptly had to pull over. The street was blocked with debris. Bricks, glass, insulation, stuff. I got out of my car and walked over to a girl standing nearby, in the parking lot of a local diner.
What happened? I queried. She looked at me, a bit shocked and said, "It just...it just...the house just exploded!!!!"
There was a loud hissing noise coming from where the house had been (there was not much left) which I realized was probably gas. I told the girl we should probably get out of there, she agreed and turned to go to her car in the parking lot and I realized she had been in the diner when the house blew. I got back in my own car, flipped a U and headed back up the street as the emergency vehicles came howling down (from 2 blocks away) And still, The Small One did not budge.
I drove back down the next day to see the damage, as I could ascertain nothing but a mess in the dark the previous night. And here, for your viewing enjoyment, are pics of said damage.
 |
| From Lilly |
Notice the debris up in the tree.
 |
| From Lilly |
The roof of the house and a semi trailer belonging to a nearby business.
 |
| From Lilly |
 |
| From Lilly |
Oh, and in case you wondered, I did not get my drink that night. I was so shaken from the violence of the explosion that I completely forgot about it. Blasted it clean out of my head, if you will.
Saturday, March 6, 2010
I Heart Governor Herbert
WOOT! In an update on my previous blog entry, Gov. Herbert refused to sign the bill criminalizing women who have miscarriages due to reckless behaviour. The bill was revamped, saying that it is against the law for anyone who is not a doctor to cause an abortion/miscarriage, but that the woman cannot be punished.
Seriously, awesome.
Also, another reason I like him is that he is of the opinion that all school districts in Utah should get the same amount of money per child regardless of whether the area is rich or poor. I agree. This comes from the recent split of the Jordan School District into two. The Canyons (who chose to split off) has a much higher tax base that results in a budget of about $2200/child. Jordan was left with the lower tax base which gives them $1200/child.
Not cool, folks.
It shouldn't matter where the kid lives, they should all have the same opportunity for public education. Now, if you want to send your kids to private school, fine, have at it. But as far as public education goes, being wealthy shouldn't mean your kids get a better education. Or having the luck to live near wealthy people. Kids in Utah are the future of Utah. All of Utah.
Seriously, awesome.
Also, another reason I like him is that he is of the opinion that all school districts in Utah should get the same amount of money per child regardless of whether the area is rich or poor. I agree. This comes from the recent split of the Jordan School District into two. The Canyons (who chose to split off) has a much higher tax base that results in a budget of about $2200/child. Jordan was left with the lower tax base which gives them $1200/child.
Not cool, folks.
It shouldn't matter where the kid lives, they should all have the same opportunity for public education. Now, if you want to send your kids to private school, fine, have at it. But as far as public education goes, being wealthy shouldn't mean your kids get a better education. Or having the luck to live near wealthy people. Kids in Utah are the future of Utah. All of Utah.
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