Sisterhood

Events of the last few days have me thinking about my sister. Liza and I were not always close. We definitely had our share of fights growing up, but by the time I moved away to college we were well on our way to the relationship we have now. We started out as two individual threads, and now I feel that we have become woven together. She lived in American Fork when Kate and Elise were new babies, and we did so many things together. We leaned on each other a lot to survive those first few years of motherhood. Sunday my mom and I drove to Logan for Liza's father-in-law's funeral. (As a sidebar, Merrilee is no good on a road trip. She drives 62 mph when it is her turn to drive, and when it is your turn to drive, she sleeps like a log so you have no company whatsoever. She cannot dispute this.) My mom and I were singing at the funeral on Monday morning. Ken's funeral was a tough one for me. I barely made it through the song, and all you Judd cousins know that's generally not an issue for me. I just felt so sad, and it was not for my loss, because I only knew Ken a little. I saw the pain in my sister and her husband, and I just hurt for them both, and I realized that I would have done ANYTHING in this whole word to take away the pain she was feeling. We are knit so closely that while my pain was certainly not the same as hers, her pain was felt by me.

I hope my girls develop such a relationship someday. Kiki has been transitioning to a "big girl bed." I have been trying to get her to sleep with Kate in her queen bed. The other night, Kate told me that they were going to sleep in the same bed, and when I checked on them, they were both cuddled up in Kiki's toddler bed. It was such a sweet little moment, and I'll admit it was a nice alternative to the constant antagonizing that they are usually engaged in.
I have also enjoyed some time with my dearest friends. Rose, Brooke, and I had a chat Sunday night that was so enjoyable. It was almost like old times except for we were missing Jenni Tag, and there were a lot of the kids running around. We always knew Brooke would be the biggest procreator of us all, and I mean that as a compliment. We talked parenthood, politics, religion, and how often Brooke is late for church. Apparently it's a lot. As Rose and I drove away, she remarked how good it felt to be validated and listened to, and she was right on the money. I guess we are sisters by choice.

The last sisters I have had on my mind are those in my ward. Most of you know that I am the Enrichment Committee Chair in my ward. I definitely received the calling based on my organization, delegation, and decisiveness, and not my natural adherence to stereotypical Relief Society pursuits like sewing. My Achilles heel is crafting, and in just a few weeks is the biggest craft night of the year. This is shaping up to be a giant wart on my behind. I have delegated all I can delegate and my blood pressure is still through the roof. I have forms to collect, money coming in and out to account for, and millions of other tasks to complete, all the while being a chipper ambassador for a craft night that I wouldn't have planned of my own free will in a MILLION ZILLION years. Pray for me.

Ode to Judy

Last night Bruce and I went to the Judy Garland/Utah Symphony Concert at Abravanel Hall. My mom invited the girls for a sleepover, which we so appreciated. We went to dinner at the Market Street Grill, and then we decided that we would just walk down to the concert. The picture above is from inside the hall looking across to temple square.

When we started walking, Bruce said, "Are you sure we are going the right direction?" But we followed our noses and sniffed out a trail of Elizabeth Taylor's White Diamonds, clean Depends, and brow wax and made it there. (Are olfactory jokes not your style? Here's another...) We followed a line of St John pantsuits, SAS shoes, and mandarin collars and made it there. (Still too obscure?) We followed about a million old ladies and gay guys- it was a parade right to the concert doors. Bruce and I did feel a little outnumbered by the senior citizens and gays. (Nothing against you, gay guys...it's hard to follow the plan when you've had a crush on Scott Baio since the fourth grade, and nothing against old ladies either, in fact I hope to be one someday.) The theme was continued inside the building with the obvious presence of two EMT's. Guess you never know when some octagenarian is going to get blissed out on Judy and go towards the light.

The concert was incredible. Old concert footage was used of Judy Garland, and the symphony accompanied her. It seems a little gimmicky, but it was really cool. Judy was an entertainer in every sense of the word.

It seems like anyone can be famous these days, including stupid, stupid people like Paris Hilton, who have no obvious redeeming qualities other than their trust funds and designer outfits. That Judy was pure charisma. When she sang, she didn't need vocal histrionics on every note, or for the second to last note of every song to be one that even dogs couldn't hear (take note, Mariah Carey and Jessica Simpson...). She was so entertaining just plain singing- no studio remixes, no back-up dancers, no cleavage. Judy was the real deal. What a fun night! (Thanks again, Mom, for the babysitting!)

So, So Sorry...

I just thought I would let you all know that Liza's father-in-law, Ken Shelton, passed away yesterday after a brief battle with cancer. He was a good father, a loving grandpa, and an all-around real and genuine person. I would appreciate you keeping your thoughts and prayers with the Shelton's at this difficult time.

I'll record a couple of memories for Elise and Charlie. I only met Ken a few times, but he was always so kind. He was the kind of guy who would do anything for those that he loved. When Dave and Liza got married, he wore his tuxedo with little complaint, but you could tell he was SO uncomfortable. He was so happy to see them get married. He was a devoted grandpa, and Elise and Charlie LOVED their "Papa Ken." Liza and I joked that if the end of the world ever came, we were high-tailing it to Paradise, because Ken had a compound. He had everything you needed to live there forever off the fat of the land. Liza worried, "What if my kids think all grandpas live in tiny, crazy houses?" since both Grandpa Jack and Papa Ken had such residences.

Liza, Dave, Elise, and Charlie: Papa Ken has moved from one Paradise to another. I know he loved you, and he knew you loved him.

Triple Word Score?

Kate and I play a little game at bathtime with her Styrofoam letters. She puts letters on the edge of the bathtub and says, "What does this spell?" Sometimes I just say the word however she puts it out and it's just a funny little bit of gibberish. Sometimes I rearrange the letters and show her a real word that can be made. So tonight she asks the million dollar question and here are the letters that were on the edge of the tub:

No joke. Major Scrabble points to anyone who can say these letters in a way that won't sound like profanity anyway, or who can rearrange the letters to not be the obvious.

She's still innocent. I took the picture and was laughing so hard that Kate got seriously aggravated. "What is so funny? WHAT IS SO FUNNY?"

Old Friends...

Today I had lunch with my friend Maggie- we go all the way back to high school! It was so much fun to catch up with her. Despite last Saturday's fiasco, we braved McDonald's so the kids could play and we could have an actual conversation. Kiki fortunately failed to repeat last week's antics. My Maggie is named after my dear friend. I have such good memories of our friendship and of Maggie, and I hope my little one has some of her great qualities.

Also, Rose crashed here on Sunday night since she had an early job at UVU the next morning. We DVR'd the Emmy's and, other than skipping the commercials, it was just like old times. We laughed at the same jokes, criticized the same outfits, and said, "Oh, she looks pretty..." in unison.

Love you, girls...

Reality Check

Fact Number ONE: I AM OLD.
Evidence: Today I was in a public place, thinking to myself, "Man, they sure play some great music here." Where was I, you ask? The doctor's office.

FACT NUMBER TWO: I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT A SERVING SIZE IS.
Evidence: Thanks to Dave and Jill, I have a new food scale. I shouldn't fan the flames of my OCD, but it's too late and the damage is done. This entry could also be subtitled: I FAIL TO UNDERSTAND THE METRIC SYSTEM. Pictured below is a serving of Junior Mints. Who eats just 16 Junior Mints? I love the yogurt pretzels from Nutty Guys. They are a little slice of heaven. The package says a serving is 15 grams. I'm not completely stupid, but I did figure it was maybe 10 or 12 pretzels per serving. Seemed reasonable to me. Thanks to the food scale, however, I now know that a "serving" of yogurt pretzels is this:

For reals. THREE PRETZELS. It's actually not quite three pretzels. I had to combine parts of two broken ones to get it to come out to 15 grams exactly. I just HAD to know, didn't I? Now, I can no longer live in ignorance or pretzel-induced bliss.

FACT NUMBER THREE: MY KID IS TERRIBLY, HORRIBLY SPOILED.
Evidence: Today, as Kate was having a come-apart because I wouldn't buy her something from the ice cream man, Bruce called to see if we could go to the circus on Thursday. I listened to his request, and then I listened to her ear-splitting screams because of my total failure as a mother to anticipate her need for an overpriced strawberry cone, and I said to Bruce, "I don't feel like taking her anywhere." And he said, "I'll get the tickets then."

FACT NUMBER FOUR: I'M A SPIRITUAL MIDGET.
Evidence: I asked Bruce to give the family home evening lesson tonight, and the source I compelled him to use was a Spongebob Squarepants book. No scriptures necessary here.

Daddy Daughter Date

On Saturday, Bruce took Kate hiking with our friends Mike, Josh, and Savanna (pictured above). They hiked to Horsetail Falls, which is a few miles round trip. Bruce reported that Kate did great! She slept like a stone that night, so he must have worn her (and the dog) right out.

I took the girls to McDonald's tonight. I met a friend and her kids there, so of course my two were on their worst behavior. They didn't eat well and they both spilled their chocolate milk. Kate finally ate a couple of nuggets in between laps through the Playland. Kiki wolfed down a vanilla ice cream cone. Unfortunately, I DIDN'T BUY HER AN ICE CREAM CONE. Yes, she stole it from another table and totally ate it. She through a giant tantrum when I threw it away, but I couldn't put it back where it came from, and I sure as heck wasn't going to let her finish it.

Kate Goes All Stalker

I have listened to "Keep Bleeding" about 200 times since Kate's album purchase. We arrive at the end of the song and Kate inevitably requests a return to the beginning. I sometimes ignore her and plead with her to listen to track 2, it's really very good I say, but we have NEVER made it past track 4. Kate sings and sings, and it's a good thing she is so darn cute doing it, because otherwise I would be going to the loony bin. I will recap our conversation from yesterday. For maximum re-creation effects, imagine "Keep Bleeding" playing in the background:

Kate: What world does that girl live in?
Me: What girl?
K: The girl who sings this.
Me: Her name is Leona Lewis, and she is from England.
K: I need to go see her.
Me: It doesn't really work that way.
K: What is her house like? Do you think she sleeps in a bed? Or on a mattress? Or maybe on the floor?
Me: I don't know.
K: When can we go to England and see Leona Lewis?
Me: Hard to say, Kate.
K: Can you get her phone number?
Me: No.
K: Because if you got her phone number, you could call her and say, "Leona Lewis, I need a map to your house."
Me: Kate, you just can't call someone out of the blue and ask them for a map to their house.
K: Yes you can. You need to call her and tell her we are coming to see her and she should tell us where she lives.

I hope Kate isn't showing any "Fatal Attraction" type tendencies here- woe to her future boyfriends if so.

24 Hour Recap

It's not that the last day or so has been exciting or anything, it's just been kind of fun! Janet's kids came to play yesterday while she went to kindergarten for an hour. They play together so cute, and Kiki loves Janet's baby. Kiki covers him with her special blanket, and helped to give him his bottle, and tried to rock him in his carseat, but really she was just shaking him a lot, so I put a stop to that. When Janet left Kate looked at me accusingly and said, "How come you two aren't canning anything today?"

We then went to Bountiful for a play date. Julie is a "girl soul-mate" of mine, and it is so interesting to see that our daughters are the same way. Within hours of their first meeting they told us, "We are best friends now." That's pretty much how it went with Julie and I. We played and played. Rach screamed that she saw a grasshopper, and as she was running away, Kate was RACING to go catch it, and catch it she did.

Thanks, Julie for the picture that I totally stole off your blog without your permission...Hopefully I've not violated your copyrights.

Kiki was a good girl and slept the whole way up AND the whole way home. On the way home Kate said, "Do you know what happens when we die?" I said, "We go to heaven." And she said, "You are wrong! We live under the dirt. We die and then we go under the dirt." Guess all those family home evening lessons are NOT paying off.

Last night was my cooking class. Thank goodness for my ultra-competent partners. We taught about corn, so we made our own cornmeal and turned that into cornbread, corn tortillas, white chili with hominy, chicken enchilada soup, polenta, and flavored popcorns. This class started out as an enrichment thing for church, but it has taken on a life of its own, because we even have men coming now. All are welcome at the Manila 5th Wooden Spoon!

This morning was a good one. Kiki miraculously fell asleep immediately after we dropped Kate off to school, so I had 2 1/2 blissful hours to myself. It's amazing how much I can get done when I am uninterrupted. I spiffed up my whole house including doing some mopping. (Sidebar: I spent my birthday money on a Shark Steam Floor Cleaner. Now, nothing will ever get your floors as clean as a good old-fashioned scrubbing , but I must say that the Shark is running a close second.) I had time to read the newspaper, and my US magazine, and eat my lunch in peace. I also was able to talk to both of Bruce's sisters. It is Christy's birthday today, and she told me, "I got my heart monitor today, and then later I'm going to a viewing." What a nice sister, to make sure that mine was NOT the worst birthday ever. (Happy Birthday, Christy. xoxo) When I picked up Kate it was bug day, and all the kids had brand new bug catchers. As luck would have it, there was a praying mantis on the bush in Kate's teachers yard, and when I pointed at it, it RAN UP MY ARM INSTEAD! I about peed myself, but managed to stay collected enough that I got it into the bug catcher. Then, after all that, Kate released the praying mantis within minutes because she wanted a grasshopper instead. I'm telling you, she is obsessed with the grasshoppers.

I hear Kiki banging the wall in her room, so I guess my peace and quiet is over.

Political Commentary: Be Warned

Actually, I've not yet made up my mind who gets my vote. Sometimes I feel like my vote doesn't matter in Utah where 80% of people vote a straight Republican ticket and call it good. Thanks, Electoral College!

But, here's what I have made up my mind about- if we could vote on which candidate's spouses made it to the White House, it would be Michelle Obama/Jill Biden all the way! Here's my argument:

Cindy McCain is a Stepford Wife. The blank stare, the Oscar de la Renta wardrobe, the fact that she bought a $700,000 condo for her daughter Megan...there is nothing about her that would indicate that she understands AT ALL what is like to be an average American. She has never worried about money in her life (other than figuring out how to spend it all- hence the 7 residences). She just seems so disconnected from not only my life, but in some strange way she also seems disconnected from her OWN life. I'm not a fan.

Todd Palin = redneck. I'm something of an authority on rednecks having grown up in American Fork, attended lots of Judd family reunions, and went on several dates with a tow truck driver from Spanish Fork (not a joke. Well, it IS a joke on a lot of levels, so I guess I should say "not a LIE."). For pete's sake, the man prefers being called "First Dude." As if America isn't a big enough joke to other countries, do we really want the "First Dude" representing you and I at state dinners? He'd probably bring a hunting knife to cut his meat with. Let me project into the future and provide you with a probable conversation:

White House Guest: Do you like being married to the Vice President?
Todd: Does a bear @#$% in the woods?
White House Guest: I wouldn't know, as I am the delegate from Ghana.

Be afraid; be very afraid.

Michele is from a working class background, made it to an Ivy League school, and even though she is now a lawyer, she still shops at Target. I'd elect her on our mutual Target shopping alone. Jill Biden is a lifetime educator- almost two decades in PUBLIC education. I dig her- go to Wikepedia and read her profile, and see if you don't dig her a little too.

I hope in the next few weeks the candidates all choose to become less enigmatic and more plain so I can make up my mind. Frankly, though, someone's choice in their spouse reveals a lot about them, and all jokes aside, it plays into who gets my vote.

I know she's spoiled...

...and yet I say, "Go ahead and choose a CD."
Kate debates, tempted by Miley Cyrus and Kids Rock number infinity, but she settles on Leona Lewis. She loves "Keep Bleeding," and knows almost all the words.

At the checkout, the debates begin again. A Snickers? Skittles? Twix? She finally chooses a small bag of Hershey Kisses.

I play the CD on the way home. She starts in on the Kisses, reading me the "fortunes."
"This one says Powder loves you."
"This one says I love Daddy."
"Turn it UP!"

I do. My ears are starting to hurt when I hear her say something unintelligible. I look back and her chin juts back and forth in time to the music. Chocolate saliva drools down her chin as she frantically opens kiss after kiss in pursuit of her next fortune. The fortunes take a more serious turn:
"Kiki is a naughty sister."
"My gymnastics teacher is coming to our house."
"Turn it UP!"

Now the fortunes move from serious to sinister.
"Don't go running tomorrow- you'll get chased by a rattlesnake."
"This one says, 'If you scratch my new CD you are DEAD.'"

I barely hear her over the din of the music, but I consider myself warned on both counts.

When I Have Kids I Will Never Let Them...

Just admit it. Before you had kids, you totally said that exact phrase followed by one of the following:

...act like that.
...wear that.
...say that.
...do that.

I did it. I would see mismatched kids and think, "Who let's their kid go out like that?" But, karma always get you in the end. Here is Kate, just moments ago, heading off to preschool looking like an extra for a Cyndi Lauper video.

You can't tell in the photo, but her headband is shiny purple metallic, and her piggy tail holder is hot pink. But you know what? She got herself dressed and she thinks she looks great! And I do too. Some things just aren't worth the battle, and to every mother I ever silently judged, I get it now, and I am so sorry I did that.

Partying On!

The celebrating continued yesterday for my 34th birthday. I have no problem admitting my real age. In fact, many people think I am even older, because I always thought instead of lying to say you were younger than you actually were, you should lie and say you are OLDER. That way people think you look REALLY good for your age. It totally works, and I have been lying about my age for about 8 years now.

Not bad for being a picture Kate took!

Thanks for coming to celebrate with me! Here's a few of the attendees. The grown-ups seemed better at dodging the camera, but I was so happy to celebrate with my mom, Jack and Kay, Dave and Jill, John, Lindsay, and Preston, and the Wynn family.

Kiki helped herself to seconds, thirds, and fourths on the cake. She started to throw her plate away, but reconsidered and fished it back out to continue her gorge.

Kate informed me that my birthday is OVER and now it is Powder's. It's true- Powder is turning 9!

Another Year Older...

My birthday alarm was Kate screaming from her bed. I ran in and she was gagging, so we raced to the toilet so she could puke. What a way to start my special day. I had been planning to run a 5k with my friend Anne, and nothing was going to stop me, so I tucked Kate into bed with Bruce and made my way to Anne's house. Anne was sick too, but she soldiered on for my sake.

The 5k was called "Beat Beethoven." It's a fund raiser for my local library, which should help explain how nerdy the rest of this is going to sound. You must run the 5k faster than Beethoven's Fifth Symphony, which is about 32 minutes and some seconds. A man dressed as Beethoven (including the crazy gray hair) is the pace setter, and you try to run faster than him in order to cross the finish line before the final notes of the symphony ring out. I've totally been preparing for a race of this caliber by tapering (since I was totally sedentary the 48 hours previous), carb loading (for the last 34 years), and training at high altitudes (Cedar Hills is at least 100 feet higher than Pleasant Grove).

I did beat Beethoven! In fact, I was enough ahead of him that I couldn't even see him when I crossed the finish line. It was my personal best, and while still pretty darn slow, it was fun to push myself a little. Bruce and the girls met Anne and I at the finish line for the Lion's Club Breakfast. Weirdly, the race was not a loop, so we wound up at a totally different spot than where our cars were. It was like an episode from "The Office."

Kate seemed recovered from the morning incident, so we decided to take the girls to the Utah State Fair.

Kiki totally dug the sheep. Kate wanted to know why some sheep were naked, some had coats, and some were wearing "swimsuits." Can anyone explain?

Kate milked a mechanical cow.

Kiki actually went up and petted this 3000 lb. steer. She is brave.

Kate stuck to petting babies. This sweet little thing was just a month old.
Bruce and I have been explaining the "circle of life" to Kate. It all started when we ordered a quarter of a cow, Kate was all excited to see our cow, and was somewhat mystified by the paper wrapped packages that went into the freezer. So, we've been talking about where meat comes from, and Kate seems to be taking it in stride. She likes to eat cows, pigs, and chickens, she says. When we were looking at the chickens, whenever she saw an empty cage she would say, "...and that chicken got killed." No sadness, just very matter of fact. She did make me promise that we would never eat Anne's pet bird, who she is quite fond of.

The real fun started on the way home. Kate started complaining that her stomach hurt, and she had to go to the bathroom. In summary, the large part of my birthday was taken up racing with Kate to the potty. Poor kid. Poor me, as well, because it was just WAY too much fecal matter for a birthday girl, but what could be done? Our plans for the evening were sidelined. I felt a little sorry for myself, but I guess I need to just get over it. By 7:30, Kate had settled down enough that we went to Purple Turtle for dinner. Bruce said, "Purple Turtle is where you want to go for your birthday dinner?" somewhat incredulously. "Hell, no," I snapped back, "but there is what I WANT and then there is what I can ACTUALLY HAVE."

I think as you age, birthdays become less and less about what you want. It's not that you don't get nice things (in fact, Bruce gave me some very cute shoes and accessories for my MP3), it's just that your desires become more immaterial, and therefore almost impossible to gift. If only someone could figure how to package and wrap 15 hours of uninterrupted sleep, or a day where no one climbs on you, or clean laundry for a year. My favorite moment of the day was coming home from the 5k and seeing that Bruce and the girls had picked up the house- it was such a treat. Even though my birthday turned out to be something of a bust, it was still nice to be with my friend and family and at least I know they love me.

Field Trip!!

Kate's first official field trip of the year was on Friday. I volunteered to drive, mainly to alleviate those "first field trip jitters" on Kate's part. We went to an apple orchard and the Alpine Fire Station (It is "A" week).

"Who has been to an orchard before?" Mrs. B. asked.
"I live in an orchard," replied Kate, the small note of disdain not to be missed.
The other kids timidly picked an apple or two, and Kate singlehandedly filled the rest of the bag. I should be ashamed to admit that she is an expert fruit picker.

The firemen were very tolerant. We talked about safety and then they showed the kids the ambulance, the fire truck, and their uniforms. One guy had a white hood to go under his helmet. The other guy had a black hood, "like a ninja!" he exclaimed, attempting to relate at a pre-school level. "I've never seen a fat ninja," replied a little boy.

When Bruce got home, Kate showed him that she could stop, drop, and roll. She has been well educated, and she can take that advice until she starts dating.

I Remember...

I can't believe it has been seven years. Like everyone, I remember exactly where I was and what I was doing. Bruce and I sat in front of the TV almost all day long, united with the nation in shock, disbelief, and desperation. Two days later, Bruce proposed, and like the rest of the U.S., we began to slowly move on while never forgetting.

To my own children, that terrible day will be a chapter in a history book, as far removed to them as the JFK assassination or the Vietnam War is to me. I sincerely hope that particular chapter ends with a description of the execution of Osama Bin Laden, but that remains to be seen.

My Kate has taught me something this week. Lately I have really noticed how enthusiastic she is about her life. She loves her gymnastics class, and wears her leotard without a trace of self-consciousness and tries her hardest to "do the moves." Her preschool teacher asked if Kate could bring apples from our tree for the class to make pies with. It was rainy, and when I was picking the apples I have to admit that I was a little cranky, but to then see how thrilled she was to be the kid who was bringing the apples made me realize my damp hair was totally worth it. Her little face was so happy when she handed her teacher the bag of still wet apples. The smallest things can make her happy- High School Musical socks, toast made with homemade bread, her friends, the list could go on for miles and that's just this week. As I drove away from the pre-school, I said to God, "Please, please, let her keep her eagerness about life for as long as possible." Then in the very next breath, I said, "And don't ever let it be me that takes it from her."

I can be cynical (and I have done the Punnett Squares and it looks like Kiki is actually the more likely candidate of my two daughters to be the next Dennis Miller), but I hope I teach my girls that the world is basically a decent place if we are decent in it. There is so much craziness in the world, as the tragic anniversary of today reminds me. Let my baby girls be protected for their whole lives.

Why I Like Porn

Make no mistake, the content of porn movies is pernicious and evil. That being said, I firmly believe that a movie title should give you at least SOME insight into the content of the movie you are about to watch. Porn has got the corner on that market. For example: "Two Timing Slut Wives" or "Big-Boobed Lesbians": any logical person can determine what the plot line is. Those are actual titles from porn movies, and don't ask how I know. One should NEVER EVER watch such a movie, however, I wish Hollywood would take a hint and create movie titles at least somewhat indicate what one will be viewing for the next two hours. What follows is a nowhere near inclusive list:

Above Average Movie Titles:
Kung Fu Panda: It's about a panda who learns Kung Fu. Nicely done.
Into the Wild: A kid goes, you've got it, into the wilderness.
Bee Movie: It is all about bees.
Texas Chainsaw Massacre: Located in Texas, there's a chainsaw, and a whole bunch of people die.

Average Movie Titles:
Knocked Up: Aside from a couple of twists, it is about a pregnancy.
21: Yes, there is some blackjack played.
Waitress: The lead character is indeed a waitress. A pregnant waitress who makes delicious pies who cheats on her abusive husband with her OB. Somehow, knowing all that, "Waitress" just doesn't cut it anymore.

Terrible Movie Titles:
Anything Woody Allen: Mighty Aphrodite? Match Point? Vicky Christina Barcelona? I guess if you've ALREADY VIEWED the movie the title makes sense, but by then it's too late, I have watched two hours of movie that is light on tennis analogies and heavy on adultery and murder.
Hancock: Not even a MENTION of the most famous signer of the Constitution.
Mystic River: The only river here is the one where Sean Penn finds his dead daughter and wrongly blames his childhood friend who is a kidnapping survivor who he later beats senseless. What does "Mystic River" have to do with any of that?

And the all-time worst movie title ever: MILLION DOLLAR BABY. There is no baby. There is no million dollars. I could have used some kind of hint that someone would meet a terrible demise. It should have been called, "Don't get to attached to the main girl, because she's not going to make it."

I'm not an idiot. I understand things like synonyms, analogies, and the like. I just don't want to be duped into seeing a movie that will leave me feeling like I have been tricked. Full disclosure please, that's all I ask.

Stake Conference Jack Barratt Style

Step 1: Create a rationalization.
Step 2: Pack a lunch.
Step 3: Kick the tires and light the fires, because you are going on a car ride.

Bruce and I decided that since taking our kids to even a regular sacrament was like the 3rd circle of Dante's Inferno, taking them to stake conference was circle number 6 at least. Twice the shrieking and renting of garments. So there's step one for you. Step 2 was easy- I packed a lunch. Step 3- We drove to Cascade Springs. The girls had a great time and the weather has been perfect.

I regret now all those times I had yet ANOTHER picture of either Kate with some weird smile or the back of her head, and I thought to myself, I can't wait until this kid willingly poses for a picture. The day has come, and I AM SO SORRY.

I present to you:
Kate Hatch
Supermodel

The Elle

The Tyra

The Cindy

The Gisele

Kate, Did You Cut Your Hair?

Despite forensic evidence to the contrary, primarily locks of hair on the bathroom floor, misplaced scissors, and bangs that look like this (see above), Kate insists she did not cut her own hair. I guess this is an "Immaculate Haircut."

On Saturday we hiked to Battlecreek Falls. It is a short hike, just under 1.5 miles round trip. That's a good starting distance for Kate.

Powder swam so long Bruce thought he might have to go in after her. That's when I finally broke it to him that Powder's living will explicitly states no extreme measures, which pretty much lets out dog CPR. My vote was to leave her, but she rallied and is still with us today. Her collar does say "DNR" so that there is no confusion in the future.

I hurt...

Canning season is killing me. I just spent ANOTHER day in sweats and an apron. We started with apple pie filling at this time yesterday, went home to sleep, and reconvened this morning to tackle pears. Here's the current stats, Rose, if you want to compete:

Peaches:49
Peach jam: 7
Tomatoes: 26
Applesauce: 41
Apple pie filling: 12
Pears: 21
Pear sauce: 32

Thank goodness for Janet. We aren't sick of each other yet, which is a good thing since we are maybe halfway done. This is our fourth canning season together. We courted for a year before our canning marriage, and just like folk wisdom says, the first year WAS the hardest. Now our communication is either of the mental variety (I think, 'I should check that kettle' and she is already doing it), the silent variety (she points at knife and peeler and I pick one up and start), or the abbreviated variety, (we say, "Are you going to get that?" and the other knows exactly which item "that" is and what action is implied by "get"). This leaves lots of spare time to discuss politics, child rearing, and how pretty fruit is. Seriously. The color of an inside of a peach or the blonde look of pear puree, it is beautiful.

Am I a hypocrite for neglecting my kids all day so I am able to can fruit, and then when I have counters covered in preserved fresh food say, "Get your shoes on girls; we are going to Purple Turtle for dinner."? Maybe...but I am so tired.

Kiki Loves a Good Joke

I love this shirt. I purchased it from one of my favorite websites and I get a laugh every time I see her in it.

Yesterday I went to a get-together at my cousin Jamie's house. Her sister Alisa came, and we had such a great time catching up and seeing our kids play together. I was so lucky as a child because we had a family tradition that we would go to my Grandma Barratt's every Sunday. My aunts, uncles, and cousins would be there, and we would play in the creek or the playhouse, and eat Grandma's special treats like Knox Blox or lemon squares. She always had treats for us, no matter when we went by. As a result, we all grew up very close to our cousins. We loved sleeping over with Alisa and Jamie because their mom, my Aunt Susan, would always make something with food coloring in it for breakfast. When Alisa and I were both attending Utah State, we would go country dancing at least once a week, and loved to hang out after and share the dirt about who we had met and danced with. Alisa was up for anything at anytime, and we had so much fun together. I wish I had taken a picture of us yesterday!! It had been way too long since we had seen each other, and I publicly take responsibility for planning the next one, and it WILL be before the year is out!

Kate is now on expert on slaughterhouse practices. "Mommy, if you want to eat a cow, here's what you do. You kill the cow, you take the skin off, you cut it up like a chicken, you put it in the oven, then you eat it." Also, she is trying out some slang, and she doesn't always get it right. She has this stick that she has wound old string around, and she leaves it laying around all over the place. I am so SICK of the stick. Yesterday I tried to throw it away, only she found it in the garbage, and then she was irked. I said, "Kate, you better keep that stick out of my sight or I will put it in a place and you will NEVER FIND IT!" She stalked out of the kitchen holding her stick and said, "Fine! It's your loss." I wanted to holler back, "It $#@& well better be!" but I restrained myself.

Rainy Days and Mondays Always Get Me Down

And a Monday that is rainy? I am totally suicidal. Just Kidding.

I totally turned on the heat this morning. My house was about 66 degrees which isn't intolerable, but I feel I have an unalienable right to be PRECISELY the temperature that I want to be when in my own home.

Kiki is totally obsessed with Tom and Jerry. I recorded a marathon of episodes to the DVR and it has been a lifesaver. Poor second child- Kate watched hours of Baby Einstein, but for Kiki, the Cartoon Network will do. She seems to relate to Tom and Jerry- I see why. It's as if she is saying, "Look! They don't need words either!" I love the DVR. The ability to watch my shows, skip commercials, and never worry about "missing" something has changed my life. Now my kids won't know anything else. Today I noticed how aggravated Kiki is by commercials. When her episode is over and the Ab Rocket commercial comes on, she points at the TV and says, "Ma! Ma! Ma!" until I skip the commercials for her. You know, a commercial or two can teach you a lot about life- how to delay your gratification, how to make a snack and go potty in less than 3 minutes, and that you see alot of things on commercials that are totally ridiculous. Kate sees so few commercials that when she catches one she inevitably thinks the item presented is AWESOME! How will my Kiki ever know what she should buy?

Labor Day was fun. Liza, Charlie, Elise, and all the Hatch's went to see Grandma Go-Go. It was a great visit aside from the fact that our kids were totally naughty and Grandma thinks they need quite a few more spankings. We lunched at the Wanship landmark- the Spring Chicken Inn. Food- Good. Service-Crap. My kids about had a come-apart waiting for their chicken strips. Kiki impressed Go-Go with her eating- she wasn't even in top form, but it can be pretty amazing to watch an 18-month old attack with a spoon in one hand and a fork in the other. Liza got hit on as we paid our check. A man at the counter said, "Are you two sisters?" Um, that one's pretty obvious. Then he said, "I see you have a ring (to me), but you don't (to Liza). Are you single?" Liza broke the bad news that she was living in bliss and had two kids to boot, and the poor guy seemed a little sad. Maybe the prospects aren't so good living in Wanship- enlighten me, Judd girls? Not that Liza wouldn't be a serious catch absolutely anywhere. I buffered his sadness by pointing out that Liza can be a little cranky, and I had always been the nicer of the two of us. Love you Grandma- thanks for a fun visit.

We then engaged in some retail therapy at the outlets (Sorry we missed you, Aunt Arlys and Ashley! It would have been fun to see you.). It was a pretty good shopping day for all of us. We made the drive home in record time. Bruce started out the day saying, "Look how good Kiki is. We could drive to Phoenix this Christmas." and ended the day saying, "Let's look into flights." The problem is that on any car ride, the first five minutes when everyone is good only lasts five minutes no matter what. However, the last five minutes when everyone is screaming and crying (including me) can be repeated an INFINITE number of times. Simple math made Bruce realize that the last five minutes of our car ride could be repeated close to 100 times by the time we drive to Phoenix. He was weak in the knees.