A Coat of Many Colors that my Momma Made For Me

I've been trying to keep my hands busy, so I've started crocheting again. I only know two stitches, meaning I can make two things: scarves and blankies. I made Kate a blanket- she picked the colors and she seems pretty thrilled with the result.

In Love with Kiki

Kiki is in such a cute stage- I'm just absolutely in love with her lately (even more so than usual). Everything about her is so endearing- she's been cuddly and funny and mean. She plays little mind games. "Go away! Go away!" she'll say, and then in next breath she'll say, "By you! By you!" (She's going to be an awesome girlfriend someday.) She also loves to tell secrets, but she's a little confused on the mechanics. Instead of whispering the secret in your ear, she's under the impression that the secret should be whispered into the other person's MOUTH. I just find myself wishing that she will stay this exact age forever and ever.

Bruce and I ran into a couple from the ward I grew up in at a restaurant here in town. We chatted a minute, they left, and Bruce remarked that they seemed nice. It was then that I told him that their daughter terrorized me in 8th grade- a "Mean Girls" type situation. On the way home, we discussed that we needed to teach Kate how to stand up for herself since she's starting school soon. Over dinner today Bruce asked her things like "What would you do if someone said something mean to you?" "Who should you tell?" We talked a minute about it, and then Kate asked, "What if it's your sister who said it?"

I was sitting by a kid who was being naughty during Primary today, but I lost my composure when he looked at my necklace and said, "Sister Hatch, I really like your balls."

Bedtime Story

Liza brought her kids for a visit. Charlie is obsessed with guns. Bruce brought home a gun catalogue with an ad campaign I'll call, "Let's sell guns to guys by taking risque pictures of guns with girls!" Charlie perused the whole catalogue cover to cover and back again, then Liza started reading the text just like it was a story. He was fascinated.

"Aunt Becca, why is she holding the gun like that?" Charlie asked.

"Oh, because some jackass in testosterone overdrive took a job in marketing."

Just kidding, that's only what I thought. What I said was, "I don't know-maybe she's a cop or something." I tried to preserve his innocence a little.

Seen Happy Gilmore Lately?

"Look, Mom," Kate said, thrusting her hips back and forth. "I'm riding a pony!"

I would have taken video, but it would have resulted in my arrest.

We're Equal Opportunity Offenders

Grandpa Jack was up watching the girls. Kate hasn't missed many opportunities to insult him in the past- she tells him that he has "pirate teeth," that his ears and nose are big, and that he is fat. (He said, "I shouldn't eat that, I'll get fat." "You're fat already," Kate replied.) The latest was Kate closely inspecting Jack's teeth. She wondered aloud if he knew how to floss, if he was aware that his teeth were yellow, and finished up by saying, "Do you even OWN a toothbrush?"


It was a windy day today. As Bruce and Kiki walked in to church, they were behind a lady whose skirt was getting blown around quite a bit. Bruce was trying to avert his eyes and ignore the situation. Kiki, however, loudly announced, "Look! Bum!"


Lastly, during church today, every time we would say "Amen," Kiki would say, "Amen. Home. HOME!" and look pointedly at Bruce and I and try to sort out why we weren't taking her cues to get the heck out of there.

So, my kids managed to offend family, fellow church-goers, and strangers. Guess we're done for the day.

Domestic Escapades

We have been busy living our regular lives...so this could easily be the most boring post ever.

Bruce has been teaching Kate to play chess. She calls it "Chest" and is very curious to know who are the "bad guys" and who are the "good guys."

She also spent yesterday playing all day with her favorite friends Whitney and Camilla. They decorated cupcakes...

...and had a picnic outside. We have been so happy for the beautiful weather. Except for Powder, anyway. Due to her exceptionally bad stinkiness level, I have forced her to spend her days outside in the sunshine instead of letting her sleep her day away in my bedroom. Honestly, though, her smell has been terrible. Bruce and the girls bathed her today- Bruce pulled out all the stops and used Dawn dish detergent on her. No wonder she's mad at us- I bet she's itching like heck right about now.

Kiki has verbally advanced to 3-word combinations. Examples follow:

Kate: (it doesn't matter what she says, really, Kiki's response is the same)

Kiki: You Go 'Way!

Me: Kiki, don't you want to wear your pretty new dress? (I attempted to find a replica for her favorite dress that she is quickly outgrowing)

Kiki: No, It Stinky.

Kiki throws open the shower curtain on me as I'm showering.

Me: What do you want?

Kiki: Peed down leg.

She also says, "Watch show. Spongebob."

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I've had a couple of questions about my "Health Regimen." I'll summarize. Yes, I'm still taking chia seeds (the things that you use on Chia pets. You have an obligation to now sing, "Ch-Ch-Ch-Chia!"). For the unitiated, the seeds are protein and fiber rich, and are higher in Omega 3's than flax, with no grinding necessary. For me, they have the added benefit of seriously regulating my blood sugar. I'm completing an online food diary (caloriecount.about.com) which is a great little tool for guaging calories in and calories burned. I try to have a 1000-1500 caloric shortfall daily. The database has about every food you can imagine, so there's no excuse for not recording the cupcakes you're eating from Costco. They're on there. I'm drinking about a gallon of water a day. Lastly, I work out 10 times a week. Not a typo. On the weekdays I wake up at 4:40 a.m. so I can meet my gym partner for an hour of cardio and 20 minutes of weights, weekends I run or do the elliptical at home, and on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays, I do a workout from Jillian Micheals. When I summarize all that, all I can think is that I should be a lot more buff than I actually am. But, I'm feeling really good.

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We got our taxes done, and thankfully will be getting a fat refund this year. Guess all those business losses paid off. In a way.

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Lastly, Bruce and I were watching a show about surfing early this morning, and he said, "Those guys are so lucky that they get to do exactly what they always dreamed of doing." Later I thought, 'I must be lucky, too, because I do.' I always hoped that when I had kids I would be able to be at home with them, and I consider myself very blessed that I get to. I try not to take it for granted, especially since my privilege is made possible only because of Bruce's hard work. He's awesome.

A Milestone of Epic Proportions

I can't believe my eyes. At my a.m. weigh-in this morning, I weighed my pre-baby weight. As in, PRE KATE. All this work is paying off, I guess. How do I feel, you ask?

Hungry.

I'm REEEEEEEEEAL Hungry.

Bruce Says I'm a Sicko: Here's Why

First, before I address the topic at hand, here's a few pictures.

I include this picture of Maggie, because this is her favorite dress of the moment. She loves to wear it. At the time of this picture, she'd had it on for close to 36 hours. She had put it on after her bath on Saturday, slept in it, wore it to church, and continued to wear it for the rest of the day.

Jim and Dara came to visit with baby Azlyn on Saturday. Kate loved holding the baby and feeding her the bottle. I felt a little twinge of sadness that our baby days are over. Might be over...if someone called and asked if I wanted their baby I would say yes. I just can't be pregnant ever again.

We took Preston to Kangaroo Zoo on Monday. He and Kate are such good little friends.

And lastly, Bruce brought me flowers the other day. Aren't they pretty? He is a good husband.

But, here's why he thinks I'm a sicko.

Setting: Bathtime, my house, last night.

I carefully prepared for bathtime by selecting two IDENTICAL princess towels so that there would be no fighting. However, when the time came to dry off, Kate and Kiki erupted into World War 3 over who would get the P.O.S. tan towel that I had used to clean the floor. Neither wanted a princess towel at all, instead choosing to play tug of war with your basic rag. I attempted to reason with them, but gave up, saying, "You two duke it out. Let me know who wins." The screams escalated, and I merely shut the bathroom door to let them continue their argument in their cold, wet nakedness. Then they really started to scream, and I thought, "Man, this is getting good. I'm getting the camera." I went downstairs to retrieve it, and Bruce asked, "What is going on up there?" "Oh, the girls are in an epic battle and I'm going to get it on video," I replied. "You're a sicko," he said.

Want to know who won? Click on play below. It is totally blurry because I couldn't get all the settings fixed the way I wanted, but you'll get the idea.

Poor Kiki. She gets her way a lot, so don't feel too bad for her. (Also, her battle vocabulary has expanded to include, "Dut up" "Go 'Way" and "No Kiss.") Within seconds of this video my mom showed up. She probably heard the screaming all the way at her house. The thing about having your mom as a neighbor is there is no, "Grandma is coming over so you better be on your best behavior." She sees us at our worst. Hopefully she loves us anyway. (While I am on the subject, I must record that Kiki LOVES her Grandma Ellie. When my mom comes over, Kiki runs and gets her shoes, grabs my mom's hand, and tells me, "Bye bye, Mommy." She loves to go to Grandma's and play and she will cry and cry if she can't go over to visit.)

We restored peace, and Kate chose "You are Special" for their bedtime story. If you've not read this book, you really must. The author is Max Lucado. Even I, with my cold cold heart and mastery of my emotions can not read this book without choking up at the end. We got to the end, I teared up, and Kate said, "Are you crying?" I told her I was- a little. Long pause. "Mommy, I'm sorry I fighted with Kiki about the towel."

There is hope for us yet.

Kate's Act of Bravery and Tales of the Laundry

Kate had her kindergarten check-up today. We had been talking about it for a couple of days: that she would be weighed and measured, that the doctor would look at her eyes and ears, and that there would be a couple of shots. Yep, I came right out and told her. Kate is the kind of kid who just does better with all of the information. We talked about what the shots would feel like and what they would do. Then I bribed Kate and told her if she was brave, I would take her to Robert's and we would pick out a craft that we could make. And I said, "You are still brave if you cry, you just can't freak out and make it hard on the nurses."

So, the checkup was yesterday afternoon, and Kate had herself all psyched up. She must have a little of her Aunt Liza in her, because when shot time came, Kate took her FOUR shots and didn't even CRY! Not a single tear. Not only not a single tear, but on the way out she told the nurse, "That kind of tickled." Of course we went and got a craft, and will be making jewelry boxes today. She definitely earned it.

On another note, I conducted a little social experiment. Kate has tons of clothes she never wears, so I decided I was going on strike, and wouldn't put her clean laundry away until she had worn EVERYTHING in her drawers. You should have seen the piles of clothes in the laundry room, and her outfits just got crazier and crazier. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore, and the drawers really were just about empty, so I finally put all the clean clothes away. And with hundreds of possible combinations (including quite a few that even MATCHED), her first outfit she wore consisted of: mint green leggings with pink polka dots, a yellow and white striped skirt, and a blue and purple flowered shirt. Guess laundry cleanliness has nothing to do with Kate's crazy outfits.

Kiki continues to astound with her vocabulary. She was staring down the heat vent in her room saying, "Ham. Ham." I thought for sure I just didn't understand her, but when I looked down the vent, sure enough, there was a piece of toy bacon down there. She also came running to me yesterday saying, "Hide!" I thought she was playing a game, but Kate and her little friend soon followed saying, "Where's Kiki? We want to dress her up." Yep, she's no dummy.

Slip of the Tongue

Whoopsy.

I was trying to say, "Let's set you up for success" to my 9 year old piano student this morning, and instead I said, "Let's set you up for sex."

She didn't seem to notice. I pray (earnestly) that it wasn't acting on her part.

Anyone Can Be a D.B.A.

I take my life kind of seriously- I can admit it. When I decided to spend the bulk of my time at home with my girls, I approached it like I approached most jobs in my life: I wanted to be as good at it as I could possibly be. I felt if I was going to be "at home" that I would have good kids, a strong marriage, a clean house, and decent meals. I'm not completely successful at any of it, but I strive for it. I was called a "domestic goddess" on more than one occasion, and it rankled me a little, and I will recap why. The term "goddess" seems to imply that one is born knowing things and being good at all of them. It suggests a combination of aloofness and charm which I certainly lack. Ultimately I felt that the word didn't do justice to the physical, emotional, and mental investment I was making in my home life. When I decided to choose a term that I felt better encompassed my role, I reached back into my vocabulary archives, and having been raised at the knee of assorted Barratts, Judds, and Wests, chose to call myself a "Domestic Badass." (Webster's definition of "badass": of formidable strength or skill).

Anyone can be a Domestic Badass. Only a few rules exist:
1: Married or single, kids or not, it doesn't matter. DBA-ery is open and available to all.
2: There is no one right way to be a wife, mother, or woman in general. No judgements are allowed and the benefit of the doubt is encouraged. Give it to others AND to yourself. It will feel good.
3: DBA's should be passionate about giving those they love the best life they can. Express it how you wish.
4: Men can be DBA's as well. Jack Barratt and Doug West were among the first.
5: You must try your hardest- but only 70 percent of the time. The remaining time can be allotted to crying, feeling low, wishing bad things would happen to others, eating crap, and taking naps whenever possible.
6: There is no religious requirement. (In fact, you can be someone who won't even SAY "Ass" except when reading your scriptures aloud and you can still be a DBA. We'll even call you a Domestic Bad-Behind if you want.)
7: Perfection is craziness: DBA's realize that perfection will not be reached in their lifetimes.
8: DBA-ery is not just for the stay at home set. Some of us work because we have to. Some of us work because we want to. Some of us stay home because we want to. Some of us stay home because we have to. We can all feel the undying burn of looking at our families and thinking, 'I would do anything in this whole world for you.'
9: DBA's support each other. I'm sick of hearing how petty and crazy women are- especially from other women. This morning I hung out with three of the most awesome ladies you will ever meet, and part of what makes them so great is that they can listen to me talk about how my 5 year old talks back like you wouldn't believe, and they can give advice, and I will promise you that not one of them thought to themselves, "What the heck is her problem? My kids would never..." I will also promise you that on one occasion or another, we have ALL been petty or crazy. See rule #2.

Who wants to join my ranks?

Oh, and there is one thing about the "Goddess" label that does ring true:

I was born to do this.

Kitchen Obsession

Have I never blogged about my Bosch Mixer? I will now. I know that the Kitchenaid Mixer is held in the highest regard among newlyweds and "foodies" alike, but I say to you, "You are high." The Bosch, while lacking the graceful looks of a Kitchenaid, more than makes up for it in sheer strength. Can your Kitchen Aid knead the dough for 4 large loaves of whole wheat bread all in the same bowl and in less than 8 minutes? I didn't think so. If you are looking for a mixer, just spring for the Bosch- it will pinch your wallet a little, and when you order the blender attachment too, that will pinch a little more, but the next time you make cookies and you don't even have to soften the butter because you know your cookie paddles will beat it into submission, you'll realize that it was money well spent. (My mother-in-law gave me mine, and every time I pull out my mixer I say a little "Thanks" to her.) Christy, Cheryl: Back me up on this one.

And a Kate Quote:
Kate: Daddy, how do you know Grandma Ellie?
Bruce: How do you think?
Kate: Because we're neighbors?

(For readers unfamiliar, Grandma Ellie is my mom.)

Starstruck by a 75 Year Old Farmer: I'm a Wendell Berry Groupie

Last night I went to a book signing in Salt Lake for one of my favorite authors of all time, Wendell Berry. Learn more about him by clicking here:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wendell_Berry

I'm not a book reviewer of any kind, but let me pretend for a moment that my opinion matters, and tell what I think about his works. They are huge in number, for starters, so whether you prefer fiction, poetry, or essays, you will probably find something that you might like to read. His fiction works are generally set in agricultural settings, and he writes so beautifully about the land that it begins to feel like an additional character in the books. He creates amazing characters, but I have always been the most impressed by his female characters- tender yet strong, and women I like to imagine I can one day be like. And lastly, the way he uses the English language is a miracle, really, that he is able to create realities and feelings just by the way he weaves his words together.

Clearly, I am a super-fan.

At the book signing (Ken Sanders Rare Books, of course), thank goodness I was very early, because the line soon went out the door. I met him and I said, "I'm so excited to meet you," but what I really meant to say was, "I love you, Wendell Berry." Because that wouldn't have seemed crazy AT ALL.

If you are looking for a work of fiction, I recommend Hannah Coulter. Dying for a sample? Here's a couple of poems:

The first, about his wife:

Except
Now that you have gone
and I am alone and quiet,
my contentment would be
complete, if I did not wish
you were here so I could say,
"How good it is, Tanya,
to be alone and quiet."

The second, written over 30 years ago, and yet still relevant:

We Who Prayed and Wept
We who prayed and wept
for liberty from kings
and the yoke of liberty
accept the tyranny of things
we do not need.
In plenitude too free,
we have become adept
beneath the yoke of greed.

Those who will not learn
in plenty to keep their place
must learn it by their need
when they have had their way
and the fields spurn their seed.
We have failed Thy grace.
Lord, I flinch and pray,
send Thy necessity.

Run, don't walk, to your nearest library, book store, or well-read friend's house and read something of Wendell Berry's today. You'll thank me (just as I thank Jack for introducing me to him.).

10 Digit Dialing Makes Me SO ANGRY!

For my whole life, if I wanted to reach my dad, I have dialed the same 7 numbers. Now, I'm expected to overcome a lifetime habit and remember to preface the number with "801"? I'm angry, really angry.

That is all.

A Utah Solution to the Bachelor's Problem

I stayed up WAY too late last night watching the season finale of "The Bachelor." I'm embarrassed to admit how sucked in I was, but I have been all season long. Even Bruce was "contaminated" by me, and had watched enough to have a favorite going in to last night. What it came down to was (SPOILER ALERT! SPOILER ALERT!) was that Jason proposed to one girl, who accepted, but by the time the "After the Final Rose" rolled around six weeks later, he was dumping that girl to beg for a second chance with girl #2.

Kate was coloring next to me, and I didn't think she was even paying attention, but she soon turned to me and said, "He should just marry BOTH of them. Geez!"

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Kiki is a magician. She dropped some dice while playing with a Yahtzee game, and when she bent down to pick it up, she picked up a Cheeto from under the couch instead, then held it up and shouted, "TA-NA!"

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Liza had a happy reunion with her kids on Sunday night. One of Charlie's final acts was to smear my bathroom walls with fecal matter, then drag his butt across my bath mat to wipe. "...and with that, I bid you farewell," is what I imagined him thinking. I asked Liza if that's how they do things in Idaho, but she swears she doesn't know where he learned that. Her claims aside, I'll be bringing my own bathroom linens next time I visit. Bruce and I are making plans for our own "personal mini-vacay" and I'll be teaching my kids to puke with no provocation to exact my revenge as I exercise the babysitting reciprocity clause in my sister contract.