Happy Thanksgiving

I Said I Wouldn't Do It

But I did.

I didn't have a lot going for me this week, with the exception of not lifting a finger.

Unless I really wanted to. And I did really want to oil the kitchen cabinets. Really.

I told myself that I was NOT going to fold the mountain of laundry in my room.

But I just did. It only took me about 25 minutes.

No. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine. I'll ice my sore muscles before I put it all away.

Nostalgia Anyone?

Much to my annoyance, Maddie is watching that stupid sponge cartoon.

They are doing their underwater spoof of Mid Evil Times, which took me on a little journey down memory lane.

Join me.

Remember when we went in '92?

We enjoyed our utensil-less dinner, watched the jousting, and then the knight brought a rose over to Rachel.

Later that night, Jaynann (still mad about being left behind) was almost murdered for dis-petaling said rose.

Ohhhhhhhh. (sniff) Good times.

Santa's Helpers

An email was sent out at work inviting people to volunteer to serve dinner at a shelter on Christmas day.

The best part was the end of the message, telling the readers to hurry to sign up because spots go fast.

I love it. So many people are willing to sacrifice a couple of hours on Christmas Day that reservations are required to serve.

Is it Safe?

Have you gone to the store today?

I just need a couple of things, but I'm afraid for my life. The grocery store? The day before Thanksgiving?

If you don't hear from me by tonight, send out a search party.

A Really Close Call

You've heard of a drunk call... you know when someone who's had too much to drink thinks that 2am is the time to call their Ex.

Last night we almost invented the Isaac Call.

Sighhhhhhhhhhh

I've never been so thankful that my house is a cell phone Dead Zone.

Isaac crawled into bed with me at about 1am. In the process he hit just the right combination of buttons to dial a friend in the ward.

I caught (and ended) it in just the nick of time.

That would have been a fun one to explain.

Kicking Off Thanksgiving Break

If we must be 600 miles away from home, lets make some fun out of it.

A couple of friends joined us for a movie and caramel corn.

I'm thinking...wouldn't it be fun for the mom's to have a turn tomorrow night?

Run For Cover

The Cougs didn't win.

Ya' Think?

During another Twilight commercial...

Maddie: "You're going to think I'm completely crazy, but that guy looks like Cedric Diggory".

Just When I Think I've Got the Hang of It

Living in Utah is so weird!

(but I still like it)

This is the third BYU-Utes football game since I became a Utah resident.

There is just nothing like this rivalry where I come from.

Do you bleed red? Or do you bleed blue? My friend's little girl has her nails painted red on one hand and blue on the other because their house is divided. I'm pretty sure that in the past I've told you about my aunt's neighbors and their meticulously cut lawns, with a perfectly trimmed Y, and the other a U, cut in to their grass. (it really is cool)

Just now on the radio there was talk about some Utes fans having a tailgate party with a big screen in a stake center parking lot and BYU fans having a kegger. The madness!

But on the other hand, it is kind of fun to see so many people so passionate about what they love.

Except it's more than passion. It's some kind of sick obsession, and when one team wins, the fans of the losers cry "cheating", and blame the refs.

I will not be watching the game tomorrow, because there is no safe place to just go and enjoy the football game. There will either by chaotic celebrating or, well, violence and tears.

Maybe I'll just sit at home and watch a new movie.

PS I'll tell you what I'm NOT doing! I'm not going to see that stupid Twilight!

Two Tag

Thank you, Tifferbob.

Two names you go by: besides Jessica

1. Mom

2. Janet. Miss Jackson if you're nasty

Two things you are wearing right now:

1. white T-shirt with 3/4 sleeves

2. comfy grey stretchy pants that shape my belly into a round pregnant shape (of course I'm not)

Two things you want right now:

1. to have a good Thanksgiving

2. for these two to be no longer

Two things you did last night:

1. ate my weight in oatmeal chocolate chip cookies

2. oh, yeah, Pack meeting

Two things you ate today:

1. leftover Cafe Rio (oh, so yummy)

2. more ummm, uh, oatmeal chocolate chip cookies

Two favorite drinks:

1. water

2. hot zen green tea with a spoonful of honey

I think I'll tag Stacey and Melissa.

Growing Pains?

Many of you remember that my labor with Maddie was 36+ hours. And that I pushed for... wait, that's not relevant.

The thought is out there that because I resisted the contractions, instead of just 'going with' the contractions, that it prolonged labor.

As I watch her now, with her 12th birthday nearing (okay, not until March), and with her teenage years lurking over my shoulder, I'm feeling that same resistance. And I'm pretty sure that I will need to constantly remind myself to just 'go with' it.

I stumble across these reminders and alerts often, little orange cones guiding me to the teenage years. One weekly 'orange cone' is seeing a couple of Maddie's classmates pass the Sacrament. I've watched her (out of the corner of my eye) and she has no reaction, it's not a big deal to her. It is to me! My baby is all grown up!

I am not ready. I am trying to put on the brakes. But I know that if I want to be a good mom, then I should do the opposite. Maybe you've heard this phrase: A Good Mom Works Herself Out of a Job. And maybe you've heard that talk from General Conference (a while back) where the mom is sending her grown daughter off to be married and wonders if she's taught her enough.

Am I? Am I teaching her enough? Am I doing enough to 'work my way out of this job'?

No. It's never enough. Now matter what. There's too much to pass on, whether is academic, spiritual, or just the little life lessons. I wish I had the energy/motivation to hold FHE every night, because in this crazy world - we need it.

Maddie is amazing. It's amazing that her and I survived this weekend of finishing her Egypt project.

I love her. She's my girl. And I'll just keep trying to go with the contractions.

Life Is Like a Box of Chocolates

There must be a moral or a message or something to be learned from this...

The box of chocolates? The chocolates involved in last night's fiasco?

On the way up to Sandy's house yesterday, Isaac found some assorted chocolates in the back seat of David's car. (he's lucky I didn't get to them first) It was some off-brand of chocolates, but Isaac was surely intrigued.

He asked if he could have some and I tried to talk him out of it, not knowing what in the world was in the center of these candies.

He said (and here's the lesson? maybe) "Don't worry. I'll choose wisely."

Forrest Gump is a freaking genius.

I can't help but think: sometimes we do have to make choices when our options are all random and even unknown. Like moving to Nevada, or Montana, or even (sigh) Utah. Or making a big purchase, like a car or a new home. Or, on a smaller scale, letting the kids spend time at their friends' houses and not knowing the family/their values/what the kids are watching on TV.

The list of choices is long and diverse.

I'll just keep trying to "choose wisely".

All in a Friday Night

I must have a Fiasco Beacon.

Everything I'm involved in lately quickly turns in to a huge mess. You might want to keep some distance.

I had a lovely (am I so old that I'm saying lovely?) time with my friend Stacey tonight as she so sweetly worked her magic on my hair. Girl Talk. That's why we go to the salon: to hide from the husband and children and cell phone and indulge in beautiful, wonderful, NECESSARY Girl Talk. (thanks, Stacey)

Fortunately, the fiasco came afterward. And tonight it was named Isaac.

(do you want the condensed version?)

It's dark, kids need to be picked up from Sandy's, traffic heavy, car needs gas, kids didn't eat the McDonald's I'd bought them before my appointment, now they're starving, Taco Bell drive-thru, construction on Redwood Rd.

Still not to the fiasco.

Yet.

All of a sudden, in the dark, desert night, Isaac discovers something all over the back of his hand. Whatever, my mind is too busy processing what I need to do at home.

Earlier in the afternoon, Mr. Isaac helped himself to some assorted chocolates (I'll come back to that another time) in the back of David's car. At some point he apparently sat on one.

All. Over. The. Place.

I hope 409 isn't bad for car leather.

Then. Yes then. Then he's still hungry. To top off his 9-year-old belly, he decided on Honey Buches of Oats, but first had to spill half (HALF) of the bag across the dining room floor.

I just stood there. Didn't react, knew he would react enough for both of his parents witnessing the 2nd fiasco. As he started to melt down I dry-ly said "Get the vacuum."

David and him worked together to reign in all the oats and flakes and whatever honey the vacuum could handle.

Afterward our smart, little fiasco-maker said "I'm going to look back on this some day and laugh".

Now, as I reflect on the night, I realize that some of you with 3 or 4, or even more kids are saying, 'Jess, that's not a fiasco. That's just Friday night.'

It's a Great Day to be a T-Wolf

That message often comes across our email at work, usually a teacher or administrator sharing a story of school spirit or observing an act of kindness.

It is Freedom Week at my high school. I hope to somehow show you pictures of the hallways, decorated by each class, honoring our soldiers and our freedoms.

This morning was the Flag Ceremony, held each year during Freedom Week.

The daily schedule is altered just a bit to include this early morning ritual. The students and faculty gather in the big gym dressed in their Sunday best (unless you're like me and forgot, but really, I'm not going to wear a girdle all day in the name of dressing up).

The American Legion present the flags, our amazing choir sings the National Anthem. Then with patriotic music playing, the American Legion also presents, one at a time, a flag for each branch of the military: Army, Navy, Air Force, Marines, Coast Guard, and Merchant Marines. Students are asked to stand individually as these flags are brought in if they have friends or family in each of the branches, while the rest of the crowd applauds.

Then the music stops and the gym is silent as a flag for the MIA soldiers is presented.

It's a great ceremony. I wish you could be there. I wish I could walk you through the halls. But I'll see what I can do do bring you pictures and or video footage.

I'm Out of Control

This is a cry for help.

It started on Halloween.

The eating.

Leading up to October 31, I didn't eat candy, didn't even buy it for the trick-or-treaters until that very day.

But then the flood gates opened.

And by flood gates I mean my jaws.

I have been eating like there is no tomorrow.

I know it's partly hormonal, but that reasoning can only get me so far.

Each day since this disgusting-ness began, I have been shoveling in tons, and tons of chocolate (what can I say, we scored on Halloween). But it didn't stop there. I've also been inhaling (gasp) bread. Bread and butter. Bread with butter and Parmesan toasted. Bread.

Yes. It's true.

I feel like I'm starving. Clearly not.

I've been eating the good stuff too: salad, carrot sticks, zucchini, homemade smoothies, and on top of that bananas and apples. Yesterday, in attempt to fight off whatever illness is lurking, I made a pot of chicken noodle soup. How much did I eat? Two bowls.

And when that doesn't satisfy, bring on the cereal. I figure a bowl of cereal is somewhat better than a bowl of ice cream. It's Lucky Charms to save the day!

Oh geez! I just remembered the BBQ Kettle potato chips I found in David's car late last night.

I don't even like BBQ flavor! Did that stop me?! NO!

One of two things is going to happen: I'm going to burst wide open, literally at the seams. Or my blood sugar is going to completely give out on me, and I'll collapse in a puddle.

Either way, I'm going to be about 40 pounds heavier next time you see me.

You Guys Thought I Was Nuts

Check out #5.

Feeling a Bit Uneasy

Well. I've almost done it.

I made a lasagna last night that is so close to my mom's. (it helps to stick to her recipe)

Aunt Sandy and her family were supposed to come for dinner, bringing salad and bread to accompany the enormous pan of lasagna.

Supposed to.

We had to cancel, leaving us with a ton of lasagna (but no one is complaining).

Why did we cancel?

Maddie has the stomach flu, which means we're all going to have the stomach flu.

Funny thing: my 11-year-old can't seem to make it to the toilet. She could when she was 3. But not now. Thank goodness there has been a blanket or hoodie for me to throw under her face at the last minute.

Are you turning green?

Oh, Jen

You're making a huge mistake.

Hopefully it's just a bunch of tabloid crap.

But they've been right before.

I'm Trying to Be Ready For This

From my closet window...

And from the laundry room window...

Why from the windows?

Would you want to go out there?

A Pat on the Back

Where do we start?

How do we begin?

Just a couple of things...

(I hope I'm not jumping the gun, with 90% of precincts reporting...)

A huge congratulations to California. And a huge congratulations to my friends who worked so hard to promote Prop 8.

Does that mean I'm anti-gay? Absolutely not.

I was shocked when (in the middle of the night) I found the breakdown (by county) of the pass/fail vote for Prop 8.

It even passed in L.A.

Then I remembered that there are more Latter Day Saints in L.A. than in the whole state of Utah. Well done.

Congratulations also to Kevin Johnson, new mayor of Sacramento.

How do I feel about our next president?

Sigh

I hope he has a lot of success. I'm worried about Iraq. And I'm worried about some other issues that could face the livelihood of my family.

My fingers are crossed.

The Mono

Is it because I'm getting older, or because I live in Utah that I have started putting 'the' in front of everything?

Warning: venting post. Just venting. Not seeking sympathy.

Oh. And I've probably vented about this before.

I have been feeling pretty good lately (knock on wood). I feel like myself.

Every now and then, (still) someone will say something, that makes me feel like they're taking a jab at me. Hopefully not, it may be that I'm just ultra-sensitive, but it sure feels like some people are trying to get their digs in.

I have found that only people who have had mono get it. And by 'get it' I mean understand how miserable it is. By the time mono was diagnosed, I thought I was losing my mind. What is causing me to feel this way? Also by the time it was diagnosed, my test showed that my 'levels' were high.

Mono is not about just being tired. In my case it was about being so dysfunctional-ly exhausted that I had nothing. So much nothing that I couldn't care about what I was missing out on.

It was NEVER a crutch to get me out of obligations and responsibilities (which is where I'm sensitive to other people's digs). But it sure 'got me out of' a lot of good Sunday dinners with Sandy and fun outings with David and the kids. I missed out on a lot.

I worked every day; how well I worked is another story. But I went every day, came home and went to bed. Got up to fix dinner and clean up. Went back to bed. And stayed there.

I remember a lot of times when I would go over homework with the kids: in my bed. I also remember a lot of times when I was too tired to move, couldn't sleep, and just stared at the wall because I didn't have the focus to watch TV or read a book.

I didn't have the sore throat/strep that others get typically. But oh, the nausea; and let's not forget the intestinal issues and tests last fall. (if ever you are preparing for a cat scan and have to drink 'the stuff', you know that junk that tastes like pina colada shampoo, call me and I'll be your cheerleader) Since you've followed me down this venting path, I might as well mention the nuclear test, the one where I had to eat radio-active eggs so the doctors could see my guts. Sigh.

Then, after 9 months of mono, and after surviving (sort of) the school year, oops! Concussion. Back to the couch.

It's been a strange year. Really strange. And in many ways a learning experience. I hope that I've learned to be sympathetic/kind/compassionate to others with random ailments. I've also learned that when I get that burst of energy, I've got to make the most of it.

Which reminds me... I've got some laundry staring me in the face.

Chicken Pot Pie to the Rescue

I just tried something new girls, and I thought I'd share.

No, not that.

A recipe.

I was craving something ooey and gooey and settled on a chicken pot pie.

David's not a fan (what a surprise) so I haven't made one before.

I sort of used this recipe, but opted to use mushrooms, celery, zucchini and spinach. And, um, I bought a frozen pie crust.

It's not cheap to make, but it was really yummy and hit the spot.

PS Tiercy, as my only blog reader who lives in the state, you're totally welcome to come by for a slice.