in omnia paratus

Cinco (y Seis) de Sydney

2012-01-31T22:02:00.001-05:00

Sydney turned five months while Jericho was here. This picture was maybe taken roughly around the five-month mark. She's clearly just as flummoxed as I am.

Now, my baby is six months old. Crazazee!

[she's getting harder to capture in chill-mode]

The following is info you may choose to read or not read. I understand that my child is not nearly as fascinating to you as she is to me. [Although she should be dangit.]

Favorite toys: hoodie drawstrings, mama's face, tags, her own socks, people's hands, her pacifier, a little orange monkey we named "monkey"
Favorite song: Intro to Bones or anything Beach Boys [I sort of make some of this stuff up]
Favorite activities: spitting, licking anything close to her face, squealing [and LOUDLY], yammering on and on about who knows what, making out with the inside of her carseat, picking her legs up and slamming them down on the couch/bed/crib [I can hear it downstairs when she's going to sleep]
New tricks: can kind of sit up on her own, is eating solid foods like a champ, takes our her pacifier and puts it back the right way and proclaims "Tada!"
Things that make her laugh: blowing raspberries on her tummy, tickling under her arms or her thighs, various other noises that mom does that will not be explained here b/c they are slightly embarrassing
Mom's new favorite thing: Sydney wakes up in the morning by squealing and blowing serious raspberries. Even if she's slightly fussing, the moment I walk over to her crib and say "hi" she breaks into wiggles and smiles. I'm encouraging Jericho to develop the same response.
Other continued favorite thing: she sleeps 11-12 hours straight every night. I continue to prance around in festive jubilation every morning.
Mom's least favorite new thing: Her preferred way to fall asleep is laying down instead of cradled by her mama. Sniff.
Other least favorite thing: she grunts/growls. Sometimes with enough gusto and volume that when out in public, people are surprised to see this strange noise is coming from a pretty little six-month-old girl and not a rabid beast that wandered into the local Target.

And a few pictures so that Jericho doesn't think the thousands of pictures of our baby on the computer aren't for naught.

The first person in our family to cover herself and the floor AND the wall with sweet potatoes was in fact, NOT Sydney. [Also, my baby has a slightly wonky ear, her right one. You can see it in this photo. We thought she'd grow out of it but appears she isn't. I now dub it her Yoda ear.]

Can she be this chill all the time? Pretty please?

What We Were Up To

2012-01-15T07:30:00.000-05:00

I sorta checked out from the Blogging/Internet world for the past couple of weeks. Why? Well. My husband was in town for two weeks. And it was glorious. We spent Christmas with both of our families at our house, blessed the baby on New Year's Day, dined with family and friends, had a date night, treated Jericho to much missed food luxuries from the States, and overall had the best lazy-days stay-cation ever. Jericho said this break was all about Sydney, which is what my life is all the time anyway, so it wasn't very tough to accommodate.

Forgive me, but I'm about to bust out some serious picture-ness.

On the same scarf-buying Christmas present wavelength

I can't even tell you how precious it was to see her playing with Jericho. I have about five thousand pictures of just the two of them.

Helping daddy with taxes.

The girl loves her some TV. I think this one is while watching Top Gear. She likes the sounds the cars make. [So we say]

And some forced pretty ones...


#463

I think I have a problem

I really couldn't stop...

I used a borrowed camera for this and some others. I'm considering "forgetting" to give it back.

That hat may be the best $5 I ever spent. [H&M for those curious]

Christmas Movies

2011-12-14T08:00:00.000-05:00

Oh how I love to watch Christmas movies. But I feel like I've been watching the same ones year after year. First, I would like to share with you some of my favorite parts of some of my favorite Christmas movies. Then, I would like to ask for suggestions on new Christmas movies. Or you can send them to me as presents. Whatever.
[Sorry some of the clips don't work on here but they do if you follow the link to Youtube.]

I want one of my family traditions to be having a dance party to this song every Christmas Eve.

And my other favorite part of Love Actually.

"I'M IN LOVE! I'M IN LOVE! AND I DON'T CARE WHO KNOWS IT!"

I love so many scenes in this movie. This isn't my favorite but those Youtube clips didn't have any audio.
Where's the Tylenol!?!?!

This one is long. But the reason why the ending to this movie is one of my favorites is because I didn't see it for like 10 years of watching the movie. Our family tradition is to watch this movie on Christmas Eve, no matter what, so for years, I'd always fall asleep before we got to the end. Then one year, I finally saw it and the movie made SO much more sense.

Two favorite things about this movie: Kate Winslet. The music. How cool would it be to have Kate Winslet and Hans Zimmer teaming to give the background narration of your life?

Cruel Creches

2011-12-12T21:16:00.000-05:00

When I said I was going to make a bunch of posts dedicated to Christmas, I bet you all thought I was going to share poems and heartwarming stories or something. After my last post, this is clearly not so. I don't even know if yall are enjoying this but I'm going to keep going until I find something to make someone smile as much as these make me smile.

Next on our list of Kelley's odd Christmas humor posts we have:

Awesomely Bad Nativity Scenes

...and they presented gifts of gold, Frankenstein, myrrh and a lively Irish jig.

Why do people insist on using animals? Google it. There is a disturbing amount. I could have done a post just of animal nativities.

You lose points if you hit the baby Jesus.

My mom has one of these characters as an ornament on the tree and it has a little red heart that says "I burn for you." Ha! Get it!?

Talk about confusing your Christmas stories.

Never never never never have inflatables in the yard. Nativity inflatable? Soooo bad.

Not sure why this one's weird? Look again.

I actually love Veggie Tales. Probably not the best idea for a nativity scene but it's still kinda cute.

Don't know what this one is but $10 says it was made in Japan.

Shotgun shells. They probably sell this at my Wal-Mart.

I don't even know where to start....

There are about a thousand dog-themed nativity scenes out there. Maybe if I was a dog person I'd find them cute but I'm not so I don't.

Dragons! They're frikkin dragons!

Is that Joseph? Or Huckleberry Finn?

Look closely. They're wax museum statues. Joseph and Mary? David and Posh Spice Beckam.

If you can't afford a dog or dragon nativity, just use the random pork meats you have hanging out in the fridge. Good thing Jews don't celebrate Christmas.

Sounds of the Season

2011-12-05T21:54:00.001-05:00

In honor of the holiday season, I decided to dedicate my December posts to all things Christmas. And since my blog readership has varied over the years, I've decided to recycle and update some older Christmas posts. Posts of Christmas past, if you will. [Zing!]

First, a few years ago, I created a list of my least favorite Christmas songs.

I don't really listen to a lot of pop Christmas music. The pop-ification of traditional, feel-good Christmas songs is just weird and awkward. Plus, everyone releases a Christmas album. Don't believe me? Stay tuned for another re-post. Nonetheless, there are still plenty of fun pop Christmas songs out there. The following list is not some of them. Below are my top 5 most irritating pop Christmas songs. Feel free to add any to the list.

Do You Hear What I Hear?

Have you ever seen the movie Gremlins? There is a part when the mom gets attacked by the evil Gremlins while they're hiding in the Christmas tree while a record is playing this song in the house. If the image of getting mauled by your Christmas tree wasn't enough to scar me as a child, the record gets stuck on the line "do you hear what I hear?" and really sealed the deal.

All I Want for Christmas is You - Mariah Carey
I liked this song when it first came out. But apparently so did every other woman in the entire nation so the radio stations still feel the need to play it twice every hour. [My new Christmas gem this year can be found here. I might have a renewed love for this song. I can't stop watching.]

Wonderful Christmas Time - Paul McCartney
The repetition of the line "Simply havin a wonderful Christmas time" roughly 247 times is a little unnecessary. I expect more lyrical genius out of a Beatle.

So this is Christmas - John Lennon
I'm not heartless! It has a beautiful message but the creepy children's backup choir kind of freaks me out. Celine does a version of this song that is gorgeous but she went with the traditional gospel choir as backup and let's be honest, whenever you go with the gospel choir, you're golden.

Feliz Navidad
Oh how I love the song that makes every American feel that much more culturally diverse because they know how to say "Merry Christmas" in Spanish.

So you don't think I'm a complete Scrooge, here are a few of my favorite pop Christmas songs:

Jingle Bell Rock - Hall & Oates

One time in high school, me and three friends choreographed a dance to this song. It was awesome. Wait, am I remembering that correctly?

Please Come Home for Christmas - The Eagles

The Jon Bon Jovi version is a close second. He does have better hair.

God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen/We Three Kings- Barenaked Ladies feat. Sarah McLachlan

Man, I could listen to this over and over and over.

Sleigh Ride- Boston Pops/John Williams

It makes me want to buy a woodblock.

Carolina Christmas- Squirrel Nut Zippers

A little state pride. If I had a Christmas party, I would play this.

Mistletoe- Justin Bieber

Jk. Or am I......?

4 Months

2011-11-29T10:48:00.001-05:00

I know it's cliche to say "I can't believe how fast the time is going" so I'm not going to. I know I shouldn't be, but I'm glad the time is going by quickly. Jericho will be here in less than a month and I'm so excited I could have a giggle fit.

If I thought being pregnant was an open invitation for strangers to talk to me, it's nothing compared to walking around with a little baby. I was at a fabric store today and a lady asked me how old my *beautiful* baby was and I told her. She said, "Wow. AND you have time to sew?" I responded with "If I didn't do things like this, I'd go crazy." [More on all of my projects later.] Strangers are always talking to me about my baby. I love it, actually. I've never felt so popular.

Isn't she a gem? I was testifying of Sydney's cuteness to Jericho the other day and he said, "Good. I'm glad she's so cute. I'd hate for you to be in this situation with an ugly baby."

Noteworthy behaviors at the 4 month mark:

~ Spits. Not drools. Not just cute baby bubbles. Spits. Raspberries or whatever it is she does. She does it a lot when she's laying on her back and super excited about life. Her face gets soaked.

~ Also while laying on her back and super excited, she kicks her legs REALLY fast. If I tried to kick my legs that much that fast, that would be my workout for the day. We call it the bicycle because her arms are simultaneously stretched out in front of her with clenched fists.

~ Still sleeping through the night. She's a champion. Have recently moved her into her nursery and all is going well thus far.

~ The girl is freakishly strong. Seriously. She does pull ups on the handle in her car seat.

~ Unless she's tired or eating, she doesn't want to sit. Is always trying to stand up or kick her legs or do jumping jacks.

~ Is getting more tempestuous during tired times. In lieu of a rocker while at my parents' house, my mom used an exercise ball to calm her down enough to go to sleep. It worked.

And check out what I made on my computer! Sydney animation!

Thanksgiving in Pictures

2011-11-28T20:58:00.001-05:00

I couldn't let November go by without posting more than once. I don't have too much to write but thought I'd share some of the pictures from Thanksgiving week at my parents' house. Even though I live only an hour from my parents, I went over there early and spent most of the week with them. Ever since I spent one Thanksgiving completely by myself, I've always had a greater desire to do it up right and be with as many family and friends as possible. I have so many fond memories of hanging out in the kitchen and cooking as a family and this Thanksgiving didn't disappoint.

1) My cute sister. She cooked all the hard stuff. 2) My cute parents, working together. 3) My cute baby, watching all the hard work. 4) Various pots, cooking away in one of the two kitchens. 5) Dusted off the good tableware. 6) Pretty Christmas decorations. I'm jealous. 7) Yummy peee-can pie courtesy of uncle Trevor. 8) And one more picture of my [drooling] baby for good measure.

Three Months

2011-11-07T08:00:00.000-05:00

My child is three months old. When did this happen?

Since I haven't started a baby book for Sydney [and might not ever because there's a good chance I'll neglect doing one for any subsequent children and don't want to get accused of favoritism down the road], I wanted to write down some of the more noteworthy moments of late even though roughly 100% of you don't care. Except maybe her grandmothers.

- Rolls over from tummy to back. She did it the first time a couple of weeks ago and completely took me by surprise. I squealed with delight while she looked at me like I was crazy. She does it every now and then but I don't think she knows what she's doing. I think she pushes up so far that the weight of her head tips her over like an upside down Weeble.

- Loves to eat her hands or anything close to her mouth. Exhibit A:

- Smiles all the time and loves being talked to or even just people talking near her. She'll imitate the noises you make and will sometimes mimic your facial expressions, including sticking her tongue out back at you. Exhibits B & C:

- Can grasp some things though I don't think it's on purpose because she does it a lot to my hair and I'd like to think she's not that mean.

- Has been sleeping through the night since about 10 weeks old. Usually from about 8-10 at night to 6-8 in the morning. I have no idea how it happened. It may have something to do with her straight jacket aka the Miracle Blanket. I thought I'd freak out when it first happened because I'd think she stopped breathing but turns out I was too tired to notice. Exhibit D: [She loves this. I swear.]

- When she's awake, she's hardly ever still. Probably why she sleeps so well at night.

- She LOVES her play gym and her swing and looking at lights.

- Squeals so high when she's excited that it makes the neighborhood dogs freak out

- Has started to get picky on which pacifiers and bottles she likes.

- She's started to get more temperamental. It totally throws me. She's so mellow and manageable about 95% of the time and then that one time when she's fussing for what seems like no reason, I'm completely at a loss and whine like crazy for all of 10 minutes about how hard my life is and then she falls asleep. This is clearly an indication that Heavenly Father knew I couldn't hack it as a single parent with a really fussy baby.

- Has had her first "My mom is so mean" moment when she had a bit of a stuffy nose last week and I attacked her with the bulb sucker every few hours for several days.

- She burps like a man. I do not exaggerate. Ask any member of my family. I'm so proud.

- She can arch her back while laying down. And also while in her tub which is great fun when she goes back down.

I like to consult this chart and conclude that my child is aMAZingly gifted. She's been in the "Advanced Skills" column for her age her entire life. She's going to be doing quadratic equations any second now. I just know it.

[via this website]

That's a little bit about our Sydney. And here's one more picture because I love this new onesie- For dad and grandpa.

Cynic

2011-10-27T18:19:00.000-04:00

I once tried to defend myself to someone accusing me of being a cynic but failed miserably.

You know Pinterest? Of course you know Pinterest. One of the common items pinned and repinned are cutesy inspirational quotes, usually pulled from Tumblr. If you haven't been to Tumblr to see these, you should take a look.

It is filled with wonderful gems like these:

I'll give you a moment to grab some tissues.

I know quotes can be great and inspiring. I love highlighting passages from books that are unique and gracefully worded or pretty much anything from Albus Dumbledore. And I acknowledge that not all quotes on Pinterest are oozing with cheese. But has anyone's life ever been changed from reading these random, gushy quotes from Tumblr or Pinterest? Show of hands? Okay maybe a few. I guess just not mine. Does this make me a cynic? Probably. I was running the idea of this post past Jericho the other day and he said he thought it was a good idea and that it seemed very like me. Hm. The man knows me well.

I have a heart, I swear. I just don't feel my heart is spoken to by dramatic, cliche thoughts typed over generic landscapes or a couple holding hands or a wee child holding a single yellow daisy. [For the record, pictures #3 and #6 above makes me laugh hysterically every time.]

I wanted to incorporate my own quote into Pinterest so I needed to post it somewhere first before I could pin it. Here are my thoughts on life, in Tumblr format. Please don't hate me.

GOP Race 2012

2011-10-14T15:00:00.000-04:00

The other day Jericho asked me, with great concern in his voice, if my blog was turning into a Mom Blog. Oh dear. It is tough not to blog about my child and being a mom since that occupies roughly 125% of my time, thoughts, and energy. He suggested I write about something political.

So here is my breakdown of the GOP prelim race.

Michelle Bachman- All defense and no offense. Her french tips are Real-Housewives-too-along. And I don't trust people from the midwest.

Herman Cain- New guy that hasn't been tainted by being a career politician. Knows some stuff when it comes to business and economics. Makes a mean pizza.

Newt Gingrich- Tainted by tainting himself in the 90's during the Clinton admin. Such a longtime career politician that all I can see when I look at his face are caricatures from political cartoons. And the man's name is Newt. NEWT! How could we expect the world to start respecting us again when our Prez shares a name with a lizard famously referenced in Monty Python.

Jon Huntsman- Appointed by Obama as ambassador to China. Mormon although hasn't decided what definition of Mormon he falls into. Like Mitt Romney except he's a Utah Mormon instead of a Massachusetts Mormon. And without the awesome hair. Or the winning politician's smile. Or the supporters.

Ron Paul- He's kind of nutty and I've never really been sure what political party he should belong to. And he's 75. I think over 70 should be considered "of advanced political age" and therefore be required to take additional medical testing to assess one's ability to not die while serving in office.

Rick Perry- Serious contender for the bid. A real Christian. Strong following and a lot of supporters. A strong push with his jobs plan. But I don't trust people from Texas.

Mitt Romney- Strong frontrunner for much of the race thus far. Focuses on jobs and the economy. Serious business knack. Some consider him too moderate to be a Republican. Some consider his teeth freakishly white. Little known fact, his full name is "Mittens".

Rick Santorum- I don't know much about this guy. His last name sounds like a prescription drug.

There are a bunch of other people on the official list but I've never heard of them. These are really the only ones that are causing any buzz. If you would like to have an actual educated and official description of the candidates, please consult pretty much any other source. Happy voting friends!

Charity Never Faileth

2011-10-11T20:59:00.000-04:00

Technically, she was 10 weeks for this picture but I got lazy on her actual 2 month birthday and didn't take a picture.

As you can see, little missy is starting to smile a lot. She doesn't laugh yet but she definitely smiles and at times just for the heck of it. She'll wake up from her naps smiling and making all sorts of delightful little baby noises. She's also starting to eat her hands.

The last two nights, she's slept more than 7 hours. Last night was from 9:30 to 6:30. At 6:30 when she woke up, I picked her up from her bed, hugged and kissed her and danced around the room in a celebratory waltz.

In my previous post, I mentioned how well things are going. It's true. Everything is smashing. But I absolutely wouldn't be this set if it weren't for the help of so many fabulous people. My awesome neighbor girls (Jami, Jesica, and Kristi) watch Sydney for me once a week so I can go to the gym. It's the most regular workout schedule I've been on in months! It's a dream! My RS President practically begged me to let her watch Sydney for a few hours this afternoon. I had forgotten what running errands is like by myself. And of course my wonderful mother is always on the ready. Even at 2:00 am when I get scared during a thunderstorm.

I made a goal before Sydney was born and before Jericho left that I would always say "yes" to any help that was offered and if people made open-ended offerings of help, I'd try my best to come up with something. Asking for help is way hard! But through all of this great service, I've been able to develop closer relationships and never have the feeling like I'm doing this alone. I feel so overwhelmed with thanks to them and to my Heavenly Father and hope that I can, someday, adequately return all that I'm receiving right now.

Guest Blogger

2011-10-07T07:53:00.000-04:00

Hello friends.
I was super honored to be asked to be a guest blogger for today's post on the superb blog- Hey Nonny. I'm so jazzed. Please feel free to read my post and, even better, read all the other posts from this week as well. It's a wonderfully written blog that you should definitely follow if you aren't already.

Happy weekend everyone!!

much love
kelley

FAQs

2011-10-04T18:22:00.001-04:00

Nearly every Sunday and every time we visit with someone, people ask: How is Jericho? Where is Jericho?

Here is a little bit about how things are going.

Jericho's unit is currently at Camp Arifjan in Kuwait. They arrived September 13th and have been doing training almost the entire time since they arrived. They are replacing another unit that is doing what they'll be doing so they meet with them and get trained on the trucks and what they'll be doing on the missions. The first group of people will start on a mission later this week. Jericho will not be in that group. He said they'll be sitting around cleaning guns and washing trucks while the other people are gone.

September 24th was his birthday. I'm so glad that some of the boys celebrated with him. They bought him a cake and some presents! [sidenote: I haven't met the guys he's serving with, except one. Apparently they were on Facebook and saw pictures of me and decided I was either Greek or Jewish.]

Since he's been in Kuwait, I've been able to talk to him on the phone almost every day. For a time, they were off at a small base 2 hours from Arifjan where the only way for him to call was on phones they had to wait in line to use and had a 20 minute time limit. When he was there, we didn't get to talk as much. While at Arifjan, Jericho has internet access so we either Skype or talk on the Magic Jack phone he bought before leaving the states. It's amazing to me that we're able to talk as frequently as we do. Lately the internet connection has been a little spotty so our conversations have been shorter. But it's still amazing to me that he's half a world away and we can still talk like he's just down the street. It'll be rough when he starts his missions [meaning, when they drive into Iraq to load things up on the trucks] since he'll be gone for about a week at a time without any communication. I figure the time will go by even faster then because the phone calls with be spaced out further and I'll be looking forward to each one.

We also found out today when his leave will be- December 23 through January 6. He'll be here for Christmas!!!!!!! This is the greatest news I've had since we found out he'd be here for Sydney's delivery.

The other main question I get is how I'm doing with things.

It amazes me every day how well things are going. It helps that I have a super easy baby. She requires a lot of attention, which I willingly give because really, I would just lay around on the couch all day watching movies with her napping in my lap if I could. She also eats and sleeps well so I'm able to move around the house and get things done. And she also travels well so we LOVE running errands. I honestly think up things to go do just because I like being out and about so much. My favorite place right now is Target. I don't think Jericho loves that though...

Logistically, I'm a single mom. But I have it a bit easier since I don't have to worry about holding down a job and caring for a newborn at the same time. Money just appears in the bank account. It's pretty magical. I hate to admit it, but I'm loving the government right now.

Emotionally and mentally, I'm not a single mom. I email Jericho pictures of Sydney as much as I can. I've taken roughly 4,721 pictures of her since he's been gone and have to refrain from attaching them all the emails to Jericho. I get to talk to him about her and how wonderful she is and how she's growing and learning. When we get off the phone, he tells me he loves me, and Sydney too. The first time he sent me a text telling me to kiss Sydney for him, I cried. Not out of sadness but out of sweetness. I can't wait for her to be old enough to understand what he did for the first year of her life and to see just how awesome her dad is.

The initial shock of being apart from my husband has thankfully worn off. Sometimes, when it's quiet and I'm thinking about him, somewhere in the Disney movie part of my brain, I think that at those times he can somehow "hear me". Like suddenly the wind will blow or he'll call me right at that moment or a bird will start chirping while a rainbow bursts into the landscape.

I don't know if it's my meds, divine intervention, or the radiating joy that Sydney brings to everyone and everything, but, aside from the fact that my husband is in the middle of the desert with a bunch of smelly guys, life is pretty great. I'm excited every day to hold my baby, to work on projects, to take time for myself to just be happy and enjoy this time. Ever since Sydney was born [except for the first week that we'll call my "dark days"], I've had this renewed lust for life. I find that I talk to people differently, I smile more, I'm more motivated in everything I do. I continually amazed at how blessed we've been.

Fridge of Death

2011-09-16T18:36:00.001-04:00

The first month after Sydney was born, I crashed at my parents' house. They have cable. And people to talk to. I went back to my house a few times to get mail and such. One time when I went home after being gone about two weeks, the house had a strange smell. I thought maybe something in the trash or refrigerator had gone nasty. I opened the fridge and the smell hit me like the plague. I put my hand in and it was warm. Not cool. Actually warm. Every piece of everything was warm and moldy and smelly and putrid and there were bugs flying around. Then I opened the freezer and briefly lost consciousness after dry heaving in the family room. The freezer was 1000 times worse than anything I've ever smelled since it was full of various meat. My fridge had somehow completely died while I was gone.

I lack any sort of cleaning gloves so my de-grossing of the fridge consisted of one hand plugging my nose while the other hand was stuck inside a plastic grocery bag shoveling food into the trash as quickly as possible. My outside trash can was so heavy I almost couldn't roll it to the curb. Luckily I went home on trash day and the carnage was promptly removed from the premises. After cleaning everything out, the house still smelled like death so I plugged in my B&BW wallflowers and burned some candles and left the fan running on high. Later that day, I could still smell the food death in my nostrils. During the cleaning process, I kept Sydney upstairs with the fear that somehow e-coli could be airborn and she'd get sick from all the bacteria in the air. Jericho insisted that those types of food-born bacterium don't transfer through the air. But it still freaked me out.

I would have liked to take a picture of what it looked like inside the coffin of decaying food but there was no way I could keep the freezer open while plugging my nose and taking a picture.

Instead, I have pictures of what has come of my fridge self-destructing.

Note the fluid residue in the freezer. There was a pool of blended ooze in that bottom drawer. The powder is baking soda. I think it helped some. Gun powder probably would have been better.

My borrowed mini-fridge. I felt like there should be beer in there instead of Diet Pepsi. The maple syrup and Hershey's products were the only survivors from the old fridge. Mainly because I didn't think they'd actually go bad from not being refrigerated. And because that's real maple syrup and costs more than a barrel of oil.

Behold, the new member of the kitchen family. Why didn't I just fix the old one? Well, since you asked. Friendly serviceman came out and determined the compressor busted and would be about an $800 fix. It's only about a $1000 refrigerator so we figured there wasn't much of a point since we knew we'd be getting a bigger better fridge at some point anyway. The sales lady at Best Buy couldn't believe that Whirlpool only had a one year warranty on the compressor. Finally she believed me when she pulled an owner's manual from one in the store. She then told me I should highly consider getting a better quality refrigerator. So lesson to you all out there, don't buy Whirlpool. Not merely for the fact that they don't warranty their compressors but because this fridge was only 14 MONTHS OLD! and it died. But the silver lining is that now I have this beautiful huge fridge and I got a really great deal. Take that Whirlpool!

Land of Enchantment

2011-09-12T10:05:00.000-04:00

Have you ever seen the license plate for New Mexico? It says it's the "Land of Enchantment". For many years, I have wondered why in the world a desert state of the Southwest could be enchanting. I was there for one week and thought this was my chance to explain this mystery. Turns out, I didn't try too hard. I ended up spending most of my week taking pictures of this:

It was truly enchanting to spend a few days with Jericho after being apart for five weeks. I thought for sure this goodbye would have leveled me but it was much easier than the first goodbye when Sydney was only three days old. It helps that my life has balanced out a lot more since then. I cried tears of joy when I saw Jericho last week and managed not to cry at all when he left. I think we are both anxious for him to get going and start ticking off the days that he'll be back again. As for now, his two-week leave is scheduled for January sometime. My secret hope is that the government decides that they don't need their 300-soldier unit to stay in Kuwait come the new year and they'll decide to save money [imagine that!!] and send them all home for good in January. Wouldn't that be stellar? Let's all hope and pray for that one, shall we?

I'm grateful every day for Jericho and how much I love him. I love our relationship and feel so secure about everything even though we'll be apart for so long. And despite how this picture looks, Jericho really does love me too. He's been in Army mode for a month.

Time Flies

2011-08-30T21:27:00.000-04:00

I try not to wish away the time. She's growing before my eyes. I can't wait until she laughs and hugs me back and smiles for real reasons and actually enjoys when I kiss her ten thousand times a day. The faster time goes, the faster my little baby grows. I find that I'm a little sad that some of her newborn clothes are getting a little small. And not just because they're really cute and she won't be able to wear the anymore. I love that when she cries, she doesn't have tears yet and that she hasn't blown out of a diaper and that she still loves anybody who holds and cuddles her.

The faster time goes, the sooner Jericho comes home. One month has already gone by. And in a few days, we get to hug Jericho. And then it's back to counting down again.

At least my camera works

2011-08-29T00:12:00.000-04:00

I'm still trying to figure out how all you moms of multiple children are so good about blogging. It's not so much that I don't have time anymore to blog, but that my creative efforts seem to have been sucked out of me the moment my baby was born. The only topics I can come up with have to do with my baby. Where are all my opinions and anecdotes and quips?

Until I can find them, how about I just inundate you with pictures of my baby? Maybe this'll help justify my lack of blogging blogness. [I swear she does more than sleep. It's just the best time to get pictures.]

Tender Mercies

2011-08-23T16:48:00.000-04:00

I am overflowing with thanks for all that has gone fantastically well since Sydney came to our family. I don't know how to give adequate thanks to my family and friends and most of all, my Heavenly Father. But I'm gonna try. The following is just a bit of why I'm so thankful:

Jericho's deployment being delayed a few days.

Phone call from Jericho's army people telling him that his flight would be on Monday instead of Saturday.

My doctor inducing me a week early.

The Cervadil on Thursday night putting me in labor instead of just prepping me for induction the next day making my labor get started earlier than expected.

Jason, my labor and delivery nurse. He laughed at my jokes during all my awkward hospital moments.

McDonald's mixed berry smoothie, my first post-delivery food.

Jericho and I not being too big to lay in my hospital bed together and talk and hold hands and look at our new little baby.

Swallowing my superhero pride and getting an epidural.

Getting a little pride back when I realized my epidural was nearly gone when it came down to the wire and the really rough stuff.

Only having to push for 25 minutes [even though it felt like hours].

Completely forgetting all of my crazed mom worries [i.e. birth defects or she was actually a boy].

Jericho holding my hand for the hours when I had no pain meds.

Seeing Jericho cry when Sydney was born and holding her for the first time.

My baby being a noisy sleeper. I rarely worry that she's stopped breathing because she tends to snore. Whoever heard of a 3 week old snoring?

Recognizing right away that my hormones were out of whack to the point where outside attention was absolutely necessary.

Zoloft [I love you]. And its side effect of insomnia so my fatigue during the day is almost nonexistent.

My pediatrician reassuring me that formula feeding was perfectly fine.

My pediatrician reassuring me that my baby would be fine if I gave her a pacifier before 4 weeks of age.

Physically recovering faster than I expected.

Dropping baby weight faster than I expected.

My mother taking night feeding duty for the first week.

Sydney looks more like Jericho. It makes it easy to always think of him every time I look at her beautiful face.

My loving family driving an hour to my house to hang out with me.

My mom, my mom, my mom, my mom

Parents living close and happily opening their house to Sydney and me.

Sydney being a low maintenance baby.

Realizing I do, in fact, have hidden superpowers.

Friends anxious to visit me. Friends texting, emailing, calling me with words of encouragement and support and keeping me company.

...and [they] did shed tears of joy before the Lord, because of the multitude of his tender mercies over them.

Ether 6:12

Progress

2011-08-11T15:07:00.002-04:00

Someday I'm going to post about my delivery.
Someday I'm going to catch up everything that's been going on.

For now, I'm still lacking the mental capacity to do much of anything other than laying around and looking at my beautiful little baby. Okay so I'm watching TV too and reading some and trying to record all the baby details in my journal.

I'm also talking to Jericho. All the time. Luckily the army isn't working them very hard and I get to talk to him a lot. And text. And Skype. And email. Now is an interesting time for me because I get to brag about my new baby as well as my awesome husband. And how awesome is this picture? Those are boxes of ammo. I questioned him about the sunglasses since I've never seen them before and they aren't really his style. He says, "Oh they're ballistic sunglasses. They're supposed to protect from gunfire," all nonchalant like I'd just asked him if they had UV filter. What a cool, tough guy. And he's mine.

And in case you didn't catch the link from Facebook, here is the link to the pictures my friend Crickett took of baby Sydney last week. Crickett has taken all of my professional pictures for the past few years. If you need anything done, you would be crazy not to use her.

Big, big week

2011-07-28T13:13:00.000-04:00

Tuesday, July 26th was my last day at the firm. I cried a bit and stayed late that day to write personal notes to everyone in the office. I cleaned out all my things [I think] and have tried not to think too much about the work that is left for the new girl to handle. It was hard but I feel completely at peace that it was the right thing to do.

Wednesday and today, I'm trying to spend as much non-responsible time with Jericho as I can. Only a few errands and things to do around the house. Mostly I just want to stare at him and memorize his face and talk about super happy things. I've also gotten super clingy. Anywhere we are, I insist on holding his hand, his arm or resting with my feet on his lap. Maybe if I hold on tight enough, he might not actually leave.

Tonight, around 6:30 pm, I get admitted to the hospital. This time is subject to change based on any other women that are in "real labor" and therefore must get admitted before me. Boo. I will not be allowed to eat once I get admitted so sometime prior to 6:30, I need to eat a great last meal with Jericho. I'm thinking Cookout [b/c there's one near the hospital]. When I get admitted, I'll get put on some sort of magic delivery prep drug for 12 hours.

Friday, after the 12 hours are up, hopefully early morning, they'll start me on petocin, another magic delivery drug. And then we wait, or not wait, until game time. And then we pray a lot that baby girl comes quickly, or at least within the same day so that we don't risk Jericho leaving before she comes. And then we'll have a baby. We'll be happy and crying and smiling and hugging and updating people via text messages.

Saturday, Jericho leaves. Luckily, I will see him in a month. He gets a pass in September for four days before he flies to Iraq and baby girl and me and mother-in-law fly to Albuquerque to rendezvous with Jericho at his older brother's house [4 hours from the base in Texas]. After that, I say goodbye for six months.

Sunday [hopefully], baby and me will come home. I'll leave my house with a husband and no baby. I will return with a baby and no husband. My lovely mama will be with me. And baby will do her best to wonderful and cute and enthralling and distracting so I'll forget that I'm sad about other things.

Most people have life changes throughout various stages. Me, I like to take mine out in multiples. It'll be like ripping off a band-aid. Just do it all at once. We'll all build a lot of character and a lot of love. After this week, everything in our family will be new and different. I'm excited and nervous and anxious and sad and happy. And I'm grateful that I will not be going through one second of it alone.

Dear Bev...

2011-07-20T18:14:00.000-04:00

I thought about adding this to my last post about things I'm learning but decided it needed more of an explanation. The snippet on what I'm learning would have said this:

When you're experiencing extreme emotional sensitivity during your 3rd trimester, it's not a good idea to make serious decisions. One of those serious decisions being writing a letter to Governor Bev Purdue about why your husband can't get his deployment delayed so he can witness the birth of his first-born child.

You may know from this post that Jericho is being deployed very soon and will most likely miss the birth of our baby. Since that post, we've explored some of our options in trying to arrange for Jericho to be here when the baby comes. I asked my doctor what their recommendations are on inducing me early for no medical reason. They said that they don't induce prior to 39 weeks and I would be right at 38 weeks, so they wouldn't do it. I was totally fine with that. If it comes down to risking anything with the baby or making sure Jericho is there for the delivery, we're fine if he's not there. But my doctor said that even if we were to get his deployment delayed a week, then inducing early would be a more reasonable option.

Next, Jericho said something to his superior officers in his unit. And they talked to someone else, who talked to someone else. And then the Commander finally said that I should get a letter from my doctor explaining why my husband should be there for the delivery. When I asked my doctor, who was awesomely willing to write any letter we needed, he said, "Isn't this kind of obvious?" To the civilians, yes. But the gov'ment, they need it in writing.

It's important to note that when he leaves North Carolina, he'll be going to Texas for training until they leave for Iraq on September 8. Any delay would be in him leaving for Texas not Iraq. And we've already determined that if I deliver once he's in Texas, he won't be able to come back to NC for the delivery.

A month or so after sending the doctor's note to the army people, Jericho received word that he would not be granted a delay in his deployment. He would be leaving at the same time as everyone else in his unit [July 27th]. I was peeved. And sad. I felt small and helpless and annoyed that they couldn't adjust things by a matter of days. If only I could write a letter to Obama, I thought. He's all anti-war liberal. He should have sympathy on my situation and let my husband stay 2 seconds longer. Logic eventually stepped in and made me realize that I didn't even have his address.

But wait, Jericho is Army National Guard. His commander-in-chief isn't Obama, it's Governor Bev Purdue! Bingo! That's much more feasible!

And so on June 30th, I penned a letter to our dear governor explaining my situation and what I needed. I didn't get mean. I didn't get sappy and plead to her "from a mother to a mother". It was fairly emotionless and short. An hour or so after I sent the letter, I immediately regretted my decision. It suddenly occurred to me that Jericho might get in trouble for his hormone-crazed pregnant wife tattling on his Unit to the Governor. I calmed a little as I convinced myself that there was no way the Governor would actually get my letter and do something about it. It'll just sit in a stack somewhere and I'll eventually get a form letter response one day.

I was little embarrassed by my rash decision so I didn't tell Jericho for a couple of days. He laughed at me and said, "Yeah I hope I don't get in trouble." Since then, I've been super worried that he's going to get yelled at by someone above him. I really didn't intend on anything coming of this letter. It was mainly cathartic. I needed to feel like I at least tried to make something happen, even if nothing changed.

Well, he didn't get yelled at, but my letter somehow, in a matter of days, made it to someone that mattered and the phone calls started. When Jericho told me that my letter was causing a bit of a reaction, I laughed. Hard. "Are you happy with yourself now?", he asked. "Only if you don't get in trouble."

Over the past couple of weeks, various phone calls have been going back and forth between an unknown amount of people in unknown authoritative roles. Jericho's platoon sergeant called him. His Commander called him (!). All trying to figure out what to do with the situation since apparently, they can't not do nothing at this point because someone went over their heads and brought the Governor's office into the mix. [I'm sorry! I'm sorry!] Every time Jericho tells me about someone else calling about the situation, I very frantically ask him if they're mad at him. He assures me that everything is fine and that no one is mad. "Do they at least know you had no knowledge of your crazed wife sending this letter?" "Yes. They know it's your fault." "Good. Should I write a letter apologizing to your commander?" "No. I think you've done enough."

When I realized the fuss my little letter caused, I wanted to take it all back. I still had this fear that Jericho would get in trouble and I'd be to blame. But as it turns out and Jericho keeps reminding me, it all ended up being good in the end. Jericho's unit leaves NC for Texas on July 27th. My 39th week mark, my magic number for induction, is Friday July 29th. The army people assured Jericho that he wouldn't be leaving until after the 29th. I updated my doctor on the situation and with full confidence, he scheduled me for an induction on July 29th. Yesterday, I [personally] received a letter from the Major General of the North Carolina Army National Guard [basically the head of the National Guard in NC] telling me that "after careful consideration", they would let Jericho leave on July 30th.

For ways and reasons that may always be unknown to me, my letter made it to someone in the Governor's office, probably not Bev herself, but to someone that obviously mattered. And that someone clearly thought enough of what I wrote to take action. And now, through a totally unexpected chain of events, my husband will be there for the delivery of our baby.

And now I'll know what address to use when I send Bev a baby announcement.

Fine.

2011-07-17T21:35:00.000-04:00

I've made no effort to take pregnancy pictures but people keep telling me I should. So here we are. It was Jericho's last Sunday in our ward so he wore his pretty uniform to church. He looks super handsome and I look super pregnant. I'm 37+ weeks. I'm seriously longing for normal breathing patterns and normal clothes and somewhat normal numbers on the scale.

The Name Game

2011-07-15T09:21:00.001-04:00

As I've referenced before, picking out a name for our baby girl has proved harder than I expected. Ya know that part in The Neverending Story when Bastian has to save the dying princess in the make-believe world by giving her a name? I'm waiting for that to happen. One night, we'll be having an apocalyptic storm and the house will be shaking and falling apart and suddenly we'll hear some name yelled over the claps of thunder and that'll be the name of our baby and all will be quiet and still. [Although, as many times as I watched that movie as a kid, and as many times that we rewound that part, I still have no idea what name he yells out.]

The issue that I'm having is that I don't feel emotional about any names. There are plenty of names that I like and even love, but when I try to picture my beautiful little baby girl for the first time and calling her... [fill in the blank], nothing seems... IT. Plus, what if I regret the name we pick? My goal was to pick a name fairly early in the pregnancy and use it as much as possible so we would know how we liked it. Clearly that plan failed.

One thing I thought might make it easier is to narrow the pool of possibilities. I knew I didn't want something super common but also not something totally made-up and weird. Instead of reading through the Mother of All Baby Name Books with its 5 million names, I wanted to pick a theme. I thought it a good idea for our children's names to mean something. Not like "Irish for beautiful rainbows and sunshine on a spring morning". I wanted them to reflect parts of who Jericho and I are and things that are important to us. I'm fine using family names and we intend on using family names as we see fit but, no offense to any of my extended family, we have really, really boring family names.* They get the last name, that's a family name right?

These are some of the themes we've come up with and the possible names for each with boys and girls names. Some of these are serious considerations, some of them half-serious, and some of them not serious at all but are kind of funny [plus we don't want our kids to hate us]. Feel free to make any suggestions [serious or not]. But know that if you suggest Emma or Lily, I will not be taking it seriously.

Novels/Literature:

Holden

Sydney

Scout

Finn

Phoebe

Sawyer

Classic Rock:

Zeppelin

Stone

Vaughan
Jett

Vintage autos:

Shelby

Hudson

Austin

Studebaker ("Stu")

Saline

Zephyr

American History:

Quincy
Abigail

Jackson

Tecumseh

Ulysses

*Smith family fun fact: my paternal grandfather's name is Charles Norris Smith. He went by "Chuck".
*Belcher family fun fact: some woman in the family tree's last name is Rambo.
If we have twin boys, they will be Chuck Norris Belcher and Rambo Belcher. Ya know, because they're family names.

Some Things I'm Learning, Part 4

2011-07-07T15:35:00.000-04:00

This may be my last version of this post. Post-pregnancy, every moment of my day will be devoted to new things that I'm learning so it may be pointless to try to record all of those in blog format.

More things I'm learning...

I'm never, ever cold. Ever.

"Popping out" or "getting ready to pop" are never flattering phrases.

Sitting at my desk at work all day makes my feet grossly huge. I'm thinking that's reason to self-prescribe bed rest for the rest of my pregnancy. And when I say "bed rest", I mean propping my feet up by the pool and reading a book.

I'm starting to get trunky at work. I know that's missionary lingo but I can't find another word to identify how I feel. In high school, it was called Senioritis- the feeling in the last days of high school when you know the end is in sight so you don't feel the desire to really try as hard.

There is a 50% chance that I will mess myself in the delivery room. Welcome to childbirth.

When you go to the beach 8 months pregnant, it's impossible to tan the back of your body.

I'm starting to collect books and movies to occupy me during my new job as stay at home mom. Any suggestions? Will I have that much time? Who knows. But I'd rather be prepared with a stock full of media to occupy me during the quiet hours than stare at the husband-less rooms of my house.

I daydream about hard-core workouts and eating lots of fantastically healthy foods.

Coming up to the end, my attitude towards baby stuff is becoming nonchalant when I expected it to be the complete opposite.
Am I getting an epidural? Maybe.
Do I know who will drive me the hospital if Jericho isn't here? I think so.
Have I taken my birthing class? Didn't even sign up.
Is my hospital bag packed yet? Nope.
Have I practiced installing my car seat 8 thousands times like they tell you and, if possible, drive over to the local PO-lice department and have them show me how it's done properly? Ha.
Do I even own my car seat yet? It's coming soon.
In case you're worried for the welfare of my child, I do have my pediatrician lined up, a place for her to sleep for when she comes home, clothes for her wear, food for her to eat, and enough diapers to get me through the first week [I think].

I'm hoping to rely more on common sense and my instincts as a woman and superhero to get me through the learning curve of motherhood than trying to research and plan everything perfectly. I figure the harder I try to enforce order and control over a situation that I know very little about, the more shocking life will be when it comes to game time. It's like when coaches look for "raw talent". It's easier to learn when you go in with a flexible attitude instead of 25 books of instructions that make you think you know how it's supposed to get done. They didn't have What to Expect When You're Expecting when my mama raised her kids and we all turned out smashingly.

Literary Personality

2011-06-27T12:06:00.000-04:00

[credit]

I recently finished a book and went into my *library* to pick out a new one. I usually take great pleasure in this activity. I get to walk downstairs whenever I'm done with a book and peruse in my very miniature Barnes and Noble. [If only I could just recreate the smell]. The great span of bookshelves in the study provides me with a wonderful sense of accomplishment. This day, however, I felt a little introspective. And a little troubled. What does my collection of books say about me? Am I proud of what my books convey [my classics and non-fiction sections are growing to a respectable size]? Or a little embarrassed [Breaking Dawn anyone?]? Or a little defeated when I acknowledge how many books in my collection I've never read [like a gigantic leather-bound, gold-leafed complete works of Shakespeare that I own mainly because it looks pretty on my shelf]?

I worry about this because I'd like to consider myself to have somewhat of a classy, academic taste in books. I don't normally read chick-lit or mysteries. I refuse to participate in any book club that reads Nicholas Sparks or anything with an Oprah seal on the cover. I admire people who read authors that have never appeared on the NY Times Bestseller list or whose books were never reviewed in People magazine. [Much like I admire people who totally get Indie Rock.] But perhaps I admire these people because I'm not really as academic in my reading as I hoped. My book-snobbery is a ruse!

When having conversations with adults that are much more adult-like than me, I secretly fear that currently-reading-books will come up and at that point in time, I'll be reading some embarrassing chick-lit or mass market thriller, and I'll have to lie and say I'm reading Atlas Shrugged for the third time. This wouldn't entirely be a lie because I am on my third attempt to read Atlas Shrugged, I haven't removed my bookmark, it still moves along with the rapidity of swimming through a pool of freshly poured concrete. It was in my most recent stint with AS that I began to question my literary personality. I would spend an hour reading AS and find that I'd progressed about 2 pages and was not entirely sure why I was still reading. I thought I was smarter than this, I would tell myself. Am I really enjoying this book or am I reading it because I think it adds to my literary repertoire? Why am I having much more success, and let's just say it, FUN reading Bridget Jones' Diary? [Sidenote: the above picture best represents how I felt while reading AS]

In looking at my books the other night, I started to really contemplate my choices. Other than that I bought them for about 50 cents a piece, why do I own so many John Grisham books? Do I like Grisham that much? At one point in my life, I must have. Grisham was one of my first experiences with grown-up novels. I read my first one in my early teens and loved it and was subsequently responsible in part for my early interest in the law. Likewise with my Jason Bourne series and handful of Mary Higgins Clark. They don't fit with any other genre I own nor have I read either in years but I can recall the time in my life when I read them and why I loved them. As can be expected, my taste in books has changed. I do secretly hope that my Jonathan Safran Foer and Jhumpa Lahiri are more noticeable than my Charlaine Harris. But I'm realizing that I need to embrace the diversity instead of being apologetic.

There are quite a few books in my collection that I haven't read let alone remember even buying. Those will inevitably end up in the Goodwill/Used Bookstore box. But I've resolved that I will keep these older books that I haven't cracked open in years. Perhaps the key to identifying my literary personality is not what I want to portray as a reader, but what my reading journey has brought me to. While my collection of books may not be worthy of bequeathing to the Library of Congress when I die, it is a collection of me and the various roads of life that are reflected in each book.

I think I'm ready to admit that I'm not really the literary personality that I thought I was. I'm ready to recognize my History/Political Science collegiate background as nothing more than the cause for getting more answers right on Jeopardy. I'm ready to embrace the fact that I LOVE the Stephanie Plum series by Janet Evanovich [although I stopped at book 10 because they kinda started to suck]. I'm ready to remove the guise of a well-read academic. Do I really enjoy reading non-fiction? Only sparingly and on recommendation. I hate biographies. Political theorists make me want to punch someone in the face. And why do award-winning, best-selling novels always have to be soul-wrenchingly depressing? I don't care if the writing is brilliant, it only makes the depression that much more powerfully conveyed. Why try to refuse myself the type of reading that will make me happy all for the sake of appearing more grown up? And ya know what, listening to Harry Potter #7 on audio for the 3rd time makes me pretty darn happy.

Staying Home

2011-06-23T10:35:00.001-04:00

In a little more than a month, my life is going to change in mondo huge ways. I will be having a baby (huge!), quitting my job (huge!), and sending my husband off to Iraq (huge!). All at nearly the exact same time.

First, a disclaimer: The opinions, choices, and viewpoints expressed in this post are by no means to discredit, demean, or belittle any woman's choice to be a career mom or to be a stay at home mom. These are only my personal views and what I have chosen for my life and do not by default project judgments on those that do things differently than me.

When I was in college, I struggled with the counsel that mothers should stay at home, when possible, to raise children instead of pursuing careers and that it was the husband's responsibility to provide for the temporal needs of the family. I saw this as women getting robbed the opportunity to create very successful careers and that any talents and abilities with which she was blessed would be completely pointless. Regardless of how talented or skilled a woman may be, the only place she can utilize those talents is in the home? That seems completely unfair and unsatisfying.

Also while in college, I read and wrote a critique on The Feminine Mystique by Betty Friedan. [Highly recommended reading, by the way, especially as an LDS woman]. In The Feminine Mystique, Friedan conducts a study on why middle-class housewives were unhappy with their lives [this is going to be a very short, choppy summary]. She concluded that women should engage in education and meaningful work as the ultimate method to avoid becoming trapped in the feminine mystique. The "feminine mystique" being defined as "the idea that women were naturally fulfilled by devoting their lives to being housewives and mothers", which she claimed, is the trap women were falling into and causing their unhappiness.

I didn't agree with her conclusion regarding why these women felt so unhappy in their roles as mothers and housewives. Instead I concluded that Friedan and these women lacked full understanding of their divine role as women. That is clearly evident merely by her conclusion that "meaningful work" can only be found outside of the home or in a career, instead of as a housewife. After I read this book, my viewpoint began to change. It reminded me that the family structure is not as simple as mom stays at home and dad goes to work. Women are blessed with, among many other things, the opportunity to spiritually enrich the precious spirits that Heavenly Father has entrusted in our care. When we understand the entire plan of life, the roles we play, and our responsibilities as men and women, it's tragic to think that anyone could call being a housewife meaningless work.

Part of my college mentality is still there. I sometimes wonder, "Will I be able to reach my greatest potential being a stay at home mom?" The better question I need to ask is "HOW do I reach my greatest potential?" Whether I am working or staying at home, have kids or don't have kids, it is always my own responsibility to magnify my talents and abilities and work to progress to my greatest potential.

For the past five years, I've had the opportunity to live a career life. I've worked as a full-time paralegal. I graduated from college. I completed a secondary degree. I obtained state and national certifications in my field. I'm good at my job. I did this whole career thing pretty thoroughly. I did what Friedan said I should do to make sure I'm happy. I furthered my education and pursued a career. But my feeling of being unfulfilled is still there. Having had the blessing of working, I've learned that I will never be able to reach my greatest potential sitting behind a desk.

Growing up, I assumed that when the time came, I'd be a stay at home mom. When Jericho and I were talking about getting married and our views and expectations of what our married life would be like, we both agreed that we'd do whatever possible to make sure I'd be able to stay at home to raise our children. Now that the time to make that decision in real life is staring me in the face, it's a lot tougher than I expected it to be. I have a great job. I love the people I work with. I have a great boss. I have financial security. I know it's the right thing to do, but at times, it still scares me a little. Will I get bored? Will I be able to transition into this entirely different lifestyle? Will I completely face-plant at this whole mom thing?

My boss and I have had numerous conversations about my decision to leave. She was very surprised at my choice. She said she saw me as an academic type and that I wouldn't be happy staying at home to raise children. She thinks I'll get bored. She says that I have the type of mind that needs to constantly learn and grow. She also said, "If this is what you're going to do, then you need to write. Promise me, that you'll pursue your writing." I don't know yet how I'll fulfill that promise, but I intend to keep it, eventually.

The best thing she's said to me on this matter was, "As important as the work is that we do, nothing you do in this job will ever be as important as life." Whenever I waver or get worried about my decision, I remember that comment. I know plenty of women that can balance careers with raising wonderful families. But I know myself. And I know that I would go absolutely ape-crazy trying to make that work. And I'm totally fine swapping my heels for flip flops. I am tremendously blessed to even have this option. I'm grateful that I have a husband that understands and supports this choice. And whenever I get worried and ask him, "Do you think I can do this?" He never hesitates: "Of course. I've never even considered that you wouldn't."

Casa de Baby Belcher

2011-06-15T21:47:00.001-04:00

So remember when I used to blog? Yeah that was fun. I've had some posts in the works for a while so I need to suck it up and start posting them. I've been a little busy...

I like making [some] things myself. I like to look at something crafty and artsy in a magazine and think, "I could TOTALLY do that myself and for less money." Sometimes this works out, sometimes it doesn't, and sometimes I end up buying it from the store anyway because it's easier to be lazy.

I was hit with the DIY bug again recently but this time, my DIY-ness exploded in the baby nursery. Some of you have already seen my nursery in person but I thought I'd give a little explanation about what we've been doing for the past few months to get it ready for baby day. I figured now is the time to go all out since I won't have nearly as much time to put this much effort into the decor for additional babies.

First, I decided to make my crib bedding. Not the sheets. Just the crib bumper and crib skirt. I mainly wanted to make these myself because I didn't really like anything for nursery decor at Target or Babies R Us. I found some that I kind of liked at other places but they were too expensive and I wasn't registered there and people keep yelling at me for buying myself baby stuff before I had a shower. I couldn't have done the crib bumper without the seamstress skills and assistance from my sister and mother. There is great satisfaction in completing a project all by yourself. Especially in an area that I don't consider myself proficient at all whatsoever. Case in point: Jericho- "Don't you think this is a bit ambitious since you don't really sew a lot?" Me- "Probably".

Just picture a pretty white or yellow sheet on my bare crib mattress. That crib bumper was definitely the trickiest thing I've ever sewn. I used the instructions from this blog. They were excellent.

Oh and I made this curtain panel. With fabric I got from my friend Angie's cute fabric site. And bought those pictures from A Vintage Poster. Please forgive the messy state of the room. It's currently still baby nursery/army supply room.

Next, I decided on these. I Googled instructions to maybe do them myself and, of course, found some from Ms. Martha. If you want to find out how to make them yourself, I suggest you consult Martha here. I, however, did not even try. The amount of savings do make them myself versus buying them online was very marginal. If you do decide to make these poms yourself, I would suggest using more tissue paper. In the instructions from Martha, it says to use eight sheets of tissue paper. The ones I got from Etsy had 14. I think it makes a big difference.

In my last two apartments, I made a vinyl wall decal. They can be found here. I decided that as part of my nursery decor, I wanted a vinyl decal of a tree or something else big and colorful. But I've learned my lesson on making homemade vinyl decals. I proved to myself that I can do it myself and for cheaper but not without a LOT of work. While not having to do any of the work myself is tempting, is it really worth $100? I know I didn't want to try to duplicate such a large decal myself but still loved the idea. Instead, I decided to paint it in mural form. Wha?!? Yeah. Crazy idea. I'm aware. I did it anyway. And with the awesome help from some of the awesome ladies at my baby shower. As you can see, it's still in progress. Just so you know, I didn't free-hand the design nor did I come up with it. I traced it onto a transparency from an imagine from the web and then projected it on the wall with an overhead projector. See, even the non-artsy can do art.

So, that's my baby's nursery. Some little things may get added here and there but I've tackled all the big stuff I had planned for the nest of our little-one-to-be. I purposely planned a gender-neutral nursery color scheme so I wouldn't feel the need to go through all this again for the subsequent children that will use this room. Let's hope I still like it. I really don't want to paint over that tree.

Some things I'm learning- Part 3

2011-05-13T16:58:00.000-04:00

The definition of Layette: an outfit of clothing, bedding, etc., for a newborn baby. I had never heard this word in my life until a few months ago.

Every time Jericho asks about the baby, talks "at" the baby or hugs me around my round tummy, it melts my heart. When we are saying our goodbyes in the morning, he'll often say "I love you, both." Though I think I've discovered that when I tell him to feel the baby move and excitedly ask "Did you feel that??" and he says "Yes", he's sometimes lying so I'll leave him alone.

I don't like when people give me wiser-than-me comments on parenting. I.E. "Oh, just you wait" or "You have so much to learn." This is often followed by a little smile and sideways glance at another nearby parent like all parents are in on a secret joke. I hope to make an effort to not treat all non-parents like they have yet to join the super-cool parenting club and because I've been a parent for 5 seconds means I have insta-parenting genius. This may not be a big problem since the first few months of parenting will probably have the ease and grace of wrestling an octopus into a cardboard box.

My appetite has not been as ravenous as I expected. Our culture portrays pregnant women shoveling in food like the plane is going down but I haven't experienced this. Maybe it'll come later. At 28 weeks, I only feel slightly more hungry. It's moreso that I'm hungrier more often instead of increased hunger per meal. I do get a little sicky feeling when I eat too much of something sweet. This has thankfully not affected my ability to eat ice cream, my only noticeable craving so far. To be honest, I'm not entirely sure this "craving" is pregnancy specific.

I will not be hand-quilting baby quilts for my subsequent children.

I'm enjoying strangers making comments to me about my pregnancy. It makes me feel special. And also that I'm finally clearly pregnant and not just like I'm gaining weight. People are always happy when they comment on your pregnancy. At least that's been my experience. I do know women who've had horrendous things said to them. To one friend at about 20 weeks: "Wow. You're gonna have that baby any day now!!"

Things I didn't expect would be harder:

Leaning on the bathroom counter to pluck my eyebrows
Making my bath towel wrap all the way around
Not being able to go to the tanning bed
Coughing/sneezing and having that be the only thing I do
Keeping the front of my shirt clean
Sitting comfortably
Breathing

Olives

2011-05-02T22:41:00.000-04:00

As long as I can remember, I've never been a picky eater. I even pride myself a bit on my non-picky eaterness. Which is why it continues to trouble me that I don't like olives. Olives!!! I'm one quarter Italian for crying out loud! I love olive oil, can eat my weight in rustic cheeses and will put garlic on everything but my breakfast cereal but I absolutely do not like olives.

Usually when you don't like something, you don't eat it, right? I don't like artichokes so I never order a dish with artichokes. Makes sense. But I continue to eat olives. I keep thinking, "Maybe this time, I'll like it. This olive will be different." It never is.

I find myself fascinated by those that go to the beautiful olive bar at Whole Foods and come away with their exotic medleys of green, purple, and black olives. Olives seem so decadent. Have you ever seen those people that sit down with a jar of olives and pop one after another into their mouths? They seem so blissfully happy and no one ever thinks this is as gluttonous as if it was a jar of Hershey kisses [which, however, I can do]. I keep hoping that one day, I'll find that heaven-sent olive that will win me over and not make my right eye twitch incessantly. Each time a coworker brings back one of those tubs of exotic little olives from Whole Foods, they say, "Here, Kelley, try this kind. You'll love this one." Do I? Never. But I keep trying.

Since I tend to eat at Italian restaurants often, you'd think I would need to ask the server to hold the olives on a regular basis. I don't. Instead, I pick them off my plate and give them to Jericho.

Because Jericho loves olives.

There is an episode of How I Met Your Mother when it is discussed that all great relationships will satisfy the Olive Theory: one of you loves olives and the other hates olives. It's a perfect balance. When we saw this episode I exclaimed, "See! That's why we're great together!" I'm pretty sure Jericho's response was something like, "Sure. Or you're just weird because you don't like olives."

Not that the Olive Theory should be a deal-breaker for any relationship, but I like the basic sentiment of it. Relationships are about balance. We go through life trying to be the best we can in every area possible, but we're not superstars at everything and that's okay. It's okay that we allow someone else to be the superstar when we can't. And it's okay when someone else's superpowers are lacking. Great relationships make up for the deficiencies and pull each other along when the deficiencies are shared.

So perhaps I need to stop trying so hard to love olives. Perhaps I need to accept that a lover of olives, I'll never be. Jericho will be the lover of the olives in our marriage. I'll continue to pick off my olives and put them on Jericho's plate. And he'll gladly take care of them for me, no questions asked.

Happy two years to my friend, my companion, my love.

Registry Madness

2011-04-21T16:10:00.000-04:00

I recently went to Babies R Us to add some things to my registry. I went to the cute little counter to get my cute little scanner gun and also asked the lady if she'd print me out a copy of my registry so I could see what I've already put on it. "You only have 18 items on your registry?!?!" I assured her that I was just getting started, hence why I needed the gun to add more, but I refrained from adding that the other half of my items are on a Target registry. She then told me, "Not that you have to do this, but there was a lady in here earlier with more than 700 things on her registry. Granted, she is having twins." Good heavens! Even if she duplicated everything, that's still 350 items. I'm proud of my now 32 items, no matter what the sales lady thinks. But I'm still a little paranoid that I'm forgetting some things.

This brings me to the objective of this post. A friend of mine did this on her blog and it seemed to work for her so now it's my turn. For all of you that have already been down this road...

*What items are must haves for new moms? [Especially those that I may be overlooking.]

*What common registry items can I probably do without and shouldn't waste my money on? [i.e. I've had a few moms tell me NOT to get a Diaper Genie.]

Thanks in advance. And no response is too short. I am a sponge for information right now.

Staff Sergeant Jericho J. Belcher

2011-04-15T14:30:00.002-04:00

Being with child, I get asked a lot of questions. How are you feeling? When are you due? Have you thought of names yet? Do you know who the father is? I don't mind them. It's fun to talk about babies and get advice. A couple of topics that bring the biggest reactions and most follow up questions are 1) I am quitting my job once the baby comes and 2) Jericho is getting deployed to Iraq later this year.

I will tackle these topics one post at a time [sorry this is longer than I planned]. First, Jericho's deployment. I will tell you what I know at this point. Jericho is getting deployed to Iraq for an amount of time that has yet to be determined, but we're expecting less than a year but more than 5-6 months. The baby is due on or about August 5th. On or about July 24th, Jericho goes to Texas for 30 days of training prior to going to Iraq. He will leave directly from Fort-something in Texas for Iraq. There is a possibility that he may be able to come home for the baby's birth. There is a possibility that the baby and I may fly to Texas when they do their big send off to Iraq.

What will Jericho being doing? I find that when I say "Iraq", it creates an image of him being dropped into the front lines of a battle-ridden Iraqi city, machine gun in hand, camo-painted face, writing letters to me by dim lamplight while he stares at my faded, sepia-toned picture and nursing a gun-shot wound in his shoulder. Totally not what's going to happen. First of all, there's nothing really going on in Iraq anymore. It's all in Afghanistan, where Jericho will NOT be. And as Jericho pointed out, you're more likely to get shot in Charlotte, NC than in Iraq right now.

Jericho is part of a transportation unit in the North Carolina National Guard. He drives these. Aren't they sexy? I once asked Jericho why he choose this particular kind of army unit to join and he said, "What little kid doesn't want to drive a really big truck around?" It was so cute. This time around [he did one 13-month tour in 2003], he's a Staff Sergeant which means he'll be a passenger giving orders. But Obama says we're getting out of Iraq, right? Exactly. Their unit will be stationed in Kuwait and traveling to and from Iraq to move big stuff out of Iraq [mainly tanks].

I told Jericho I was excited to send him lots of mail and pictures and care packages. I asked him what kind of cool luxuries I could send him. He reminded me that he'll be stationed in Kuwait where they have Pizza Hut, Burger King, Taco Bell, Starbucks, among many other American luxuries in the middle of the dessert, including phone and internet access to call me every five minutes [too much?]. The US base in Kuwait is much like any other permanent military base in the US or anywhere else in the world. While at the base, he'll probably be eating better than I will. Fortunately, the safety aspect of Jericho being deployed is not of major concern. Sure, I'll still worry but not like I would be if his assignment was in Afghanistan or if he was infantry.

Those are the logistics of Jericho's deployment. Now on to the emotions of Jericho's deployment.

Last year when we talked about having a baby and deciding it was time, we knew that Jericho's deployment would be an issue. As the months went by and no sign of baby yet, I was really scared that the baby wouldn't be born until after Jericho left for Iraq. I was sad and scared and confused. At some point prior to knowing if I was pregnant, it was if one day I woke up and all panic, fear, sadness were completely gone. Jericho and I are only part of this equation. Heavenly Father knows what our life holds and that whenever this child comes to us, it's going to work out and it's what Heavenly Father has planned. Children are always a blessing. I'm not saying it won't be hard. I'm not saying I'm not going to cry a lot and get lonely and worry about him. But I know it's doable and this is what I'm going to do. Without consciously asking for it, I've been extremely blessed with faith in our situation. Or maybe it's avoidance and denial...

Another reason I know I need to be calm and resilient in this circumstance is for Jericho. I know he doesn't want to leave so why should I make it any harder on him by kicking and screaming and whining and making him feel even worse? Of the two of us, I will have an easier time while he's deployed. I will be safe in our home, with our child, with family, with church every Sunday, with real food, with air conditioning, with friends. I remind him that I'll miss him but focusing on the negatives is pointless. He's only here for another three and half months and I don't plan on spending my time with him as a whiny, annoying wife.

I LOVE that Jericho serves in the military. He rejoined the National Guard for the future benefit of our family. [And come on, who doesn't love a man in uniform?] He is extremely responsible and focused and having financial security has been a tremendous blessing, thanks to his dedication. This is only a short period of trial in our lives and one that military families go through on a much more regular basis than we ever will. And with even more kids at home!

My greatest point of worry is embarking on first-time parenthood more or less as a single mother. Although, I don't truly know what I'm getting myself into. If I truly knew, I probably wouldn't be this calm. But calm is what I need to be so I'm considering my naivete a blessing. I'm blessed to have family close by and a wonderful network of women/moms/friends. Some of them within walking distance. They may not know how much I'll need them in a few months, but they'll find out soon. Even if it's just to sit in their house to be around lots of people [I don't do alone/quiet time very well].

That's the big stuff we're preparing for this year. I get a little sad when I'm counting down the days to when baby is born and realize it's about the same countdown for when Jericho leaves. It will be a very bittersweet time in our lives but one that I know will be filled with so much love and excitement and we'll do our very best to bring our family closer together.

Some Things I'm Learning- Part 2

2011-04-01T08:21:00.029-04:00

Pregnancy books, internet resources and articles can make any new parent honestly believe that their child is for sure going to wedge themselves between crib bars, die in their sleep, be strangled by their pacifier clip, fall off a changing table, grow an extra arm from the evil baby monitor radio waves, or get brain damage from an incorrect angle of their car seat. I learn much more from the parents in my lives, that, would you believe it, haven't had their children die from completely arbitrary baby-product mishaps.

My friends aren't helping me in my quest to not gain 500 pounds during this pregnancy. Actual conversation: Me- "Here. I bought two cookies. Take one." Friend- "No. One's for you. One's for baby. Baby needs a cookie too." Me- "My one pound baby does NOT need a one pound cookie." Friend- "Fine. Take half." Me- "Fine. But it better be the smaller half."

I'm oddly sensitive about people's comments regarding my pregnancy physique. It's a little weird knowing that the people you see on a regular basis are checking you out and then making comments about how much you are/aren't showing. Some of these people are openly dieting. I'd like to think that, in turn, I should be able to say to them, "Ya know, you're not really losing as much weight as I thought you'd be." But that'd be catty. I'm just glad I'm not to the point where I've got a huge baby bump and people think they can touch my stomach at will.

Now that I know I'm having a girl, my shopping bug is on overdrive. I thought it was bad in the beginning of the pregnancy. I'm having a hard time not going across the street to the Carter's outlet store every other day. And I've had to convince myself that I don't need everything from this website and this one. Don't you think my baby needs these?

When I heard stories about couples that had a baby and two days later still didn't have a name, I scoffed and exclaimed in complete judgment: "You've had NINE months to pick a name and you still haven't figured it out? It's not a game-time decision folks." I now must seek forgiveness from these people. I struggle immensely with this decision. Partly because I think I'm trying too hard [I keep expecting a grand celebration to occur the moment I find the right name, much like what happens to Harry Potter when he finds his perfect wand]. Partly because Jericho's main contributions are in vetoing my ideas but not in presenting any counteroffers. I threaten him by reminding him I will be the one filling out the birth certificate and if I have to, I will put down whatever name I dang-well please and, depending on my mood, I may not even put him down as the father. I also resorted to dramatically handing over the baby name book and telling him if he could find a name that he was over the moon, crazy excited about, I would accept that name, no questions asked. He flipped open the book and read the first name he saw: Imogen. I rescinded my promise and have assumed responsibility once again.*

*Update since I started this post: The middle name is set [and the last name]. And we have the first name narrowed down to two. But I think we're going to keep it under wraps. I want it to be a surprise and I don't want anyone's opinions psyching me out. On the other hand, I know about a dozen people having baby girls this year and if I make the name public, I can hold intellectual property rights on that name and anyone who uses it before I do will be copying me. What do you think? Public or secret?

Coach Kelley

2011-03-29T09:50:00.000-04:00

There was this one time when I thought I could coach a basketball team.

This past winter, I coached a 10-13 year old girls basketball team at the White Cross Rec Center. My friend's husband runs the league and was in desperate need for coaches. So I volunteered. Jericho asked, "Do you even know how to coach?" I've played basketball on some level for the past 20 years of my life. That should translate into at least marginal coaching abilities. They're tweens. How hard can it be?

It wasn't so much that it was harder than I expected. It was the feeling of utter helplessness when no matter how loud I yelled on the sidelines or how many times I ran a drill in practice, things didn't happen how I thought they should. It blew my mind that I could give a rousing and [in my opinion] truly inspirational pep talk at half time of a tied game and then have my girls do exactly what I just told them NOT to do. It was exhausting. I got in the car once after a game and sighed to Jericho, "I'm going to be such a bad parent." Granted, I will not have 7 tween girls all at the same time, or ever. But trying to coach made me realize just how much patience is required when trying to teach a child something new or something that they really aren't that good at. As someone who's played basketball for 20 years, I struggled to remember what it was like to not be able to dribble with my left hand or do a lay-up so it was tough to put myself in their shoes and understand that a lot of mistakes are going to be made in the learning process.

After the first practice, I thought our team would be in pretty good shape. All of my girls had played rec ball before so at least I wouldn't have to teach anyone where the hoop was. After our first game [which we struggled through and lost], I received an email from one of the parents. She was not angry. Merely concerned. The other teams in the league were obviously different than ours. Their girls were clearly bigger and more experienced. Their games were equally matched and often came down to a dramatic finish with only a single made basket determining the winner. The emailing mother expressed concern that our girls would get destroyed in every game given the competition we now knew we were up against. I thought the same thing.

Having grown up playing rec leagues in various sports, I knew what it was like to be that team in the league that never won a game. It was extremely disheartening to come away from a losing season and feeling that somehow if only I was a little better, my team wouldn't have been so bad. I made up my mind after that first game that I wouldn't hound my girls about wins and losses, that I only wanted to come away feeling like I taught them something new and helped them have fun.

There was one girl on my team named Kelley. She was the youngest and smallest player on my team. She had an older sister on the team and it was clear from the very first practice that the older sister possessed nearly every athletic gene in the family. I felt like I couldn't teach this girl anything. Nothing stuck. There was one moment in the one of the last games when the older of the sisters was sitting with me on the bench. She told me how glad she was to see Kelley getting so much playing time because the last team they played on, the coach rarely every played her. She said she could see how much she'd improved and how much fun she was having. I felt a little better about my job.

I feel like the moral of this story should end like Hoosiers, with the underdogs bringing down the gym with a dramatic win in the tournament. Alas, it was nothing like that. The season ended much like you'd expect. We didn't win a single game. But, we came really, really close and I was so happy to see them working so hard [most of them anyway]. At the end of the last game, the same mom that emailed me in the beginning of the season hugged me and thanked me and told me how much the team had improved since the first game. I really don't know if these girls will remember this season of rec ball as anything noteworthy or special. I'd like to think so. I do know I learned plenty. And I'm glad it's over.

The winner is....

2011-03-21T11:19:00.001-04:00

Baby Girl!!!!!

I would have been completely shocked if it was a boy. I willingly accepted a while ago that it'd be a girl. And we were right. And I'm SO excited.

Now on to the next great challenge: the name. I may be posting another poll regarding the name since Jericho and I will probably need outside parties to help us figure this one out.

Also, I found a nice baby-countdown widget through my friend Angie's blog. Isn't it nice? It's one of the only ones I've seen that doesn't have a creepy floating fetus.

And here is the best picture we could get of our stubborn, uncooperative baby girl. She wiggled and kept her back to us the whole time. I hope this is not a sign of things to come. She is her mother's daughter...

My Mean Doctor

2011-03-09T10:57:00.002-05:00

I did a tally of everyone I know on Facebook that is having a baby this year. The grand total: 21. [22 if you count Mary twice since she's having twins].

Most of the ones that are due before me have already made grand announcements of the gender. And then there are some that are due right about the same time as me that have also found out their baby's gender [totally unfair]. I have a routine OB visit this week. I also have my gender ultrasound scheduled for March 21 since I'll be 20 weeks by that time. And 20 weeks is apparently the magic number for optimal baby-gender predicting. At least, at my doctor's office. Even though my baby book [written by doctors] and other friends said that an ultrasound between 18-20 weeks will tell the gender. Nope, not my doctor. 20 weeks.

With all these other opinions telling me that I could find out the gender by now [I'm currently about 19 weeks], I thought for sure I could convince my doctor's office to do my ultrasound at my appointment this week [a mere 10 days before the magic ultrasound]. So I called them under the guise that I wasn't sure when my next appointment was. When the nurse told me it was the 11th and that my gender ultrasound was the 21st, I asked if we could combine them, for convenience sake, of course, and not because I'm freakin excited to know the gender. She insisted that wasn't possible and they can't tell the gender prior to 20 weeks. "Really?" I ask, "So my friends that had theirs at 18 weeks were just lying to me?" She says, "Well, it's possible, it's just our office policy to not do them prior to 20 weeks." If she had said that in the first place, I wouldn't have been as irritated. Did she really think I haven't read a single thing about prenatal care in the last 5 months, which all say 18-20 weeks? At my March 11th appointment, I will be just shy of 20 weeks. And ya know, pregnancy due dates and all that jazz are all a guessing game anyway. I could be 20 weeks now for all they know! They ain't God!!

So I would like to offer my own solution. Since they need their magic 20-week crystal ball to tell them the gender of my baby, I figure I'll research all the possible old wives' tales out there and make my own super-sound conclusion. Then when the ultrasound tech tells me the gender of my baby, I'll just sigh and say, "Yeah I already knew." How? They'll ask. "Well, everyone else in the world, including my unborn child, knows that gender can be determined before 20 weeks. So we figured it out. Thanks for the unnecessary insurance claim though."

According to the very official old wives' tales gender predictor quizzes that can be found on the always reliable internet, I will be having a girl [highest percentage of certainty is about 63%]. I won't go into the details of the questions because some of them are weird and I don't want you knowing that kind of information about me. The most common one that people keep telling me means that I'm having a girl is that I carry more like a watermelon than a beach ball. I personally think I'm carrying like a fire hydrant but that's apparently not one of the options. Old Wives' Tales Fun Fact: Did you know there is a gender myth out there that you can mix your urine with Drain-O and the color it turns determines a boy or a girl? Who even thought to test that!? I think someone is just messing with desperate pregnant women. And no, I didn't do this.

I also consulted a Chinese Gender Calendar and it indicates that I will be having a girl, most of the time. It depends on which chart I look at it. [And if you're wanting to check behind me, I'm 28 and conceived in November].

And just for the fun of it, I put a blog poll in my side bar for my readers to place their bets. The poll will close on March 21st at 8:45 am since clearly, the gender of my child will be instantly manifested at that very moment.

The One About the Robbery

2011-03-01T09:02:00.003-05:00

I've waited to post about this because the ending is taking a while to develop. But it's a good story so if you have time, please read to the end and make the writing of this post not in vain.

On December 16, 2010, I was working at the Chapel Hill courthouse. It was a Thursday, and like every Thursday, I was in court for the Department of Social Services cases. I sit in the jury box and take notes as my attorney tries the cases for the day. This particular day ended around 3:30 and another court started right after ours. This does not typically happen but because it was December and our district was short on court days due to the various holidays, they had to squeeze court time in wherever they could find it. The court that followed ours was CRC - Community Resource Court. It's kind of a watered down criminal court. It's criminal court for repeat offenders that also have diagnosed mental health issues.

After court on this particular Thursday, I collected my things as always and because I'd been sitting there since 11:00 [we had a 2 hour delay due to the "adverse weather"], my first priority was to use the bathroom. And because I consider myself "court personnel" I use the "court personnel only" bathrooms at the back of the building near the entrance to the judges' chambers. I threw my things- coat, purse, computer bag- on the chair outside the bathroom and a few minutes later, regathered my things and went out to the parking deck behind the courthouse. I got in the car and reached in my purse to get my wallet to pay for my parking. No wallet. After searching my purse about 20 times and all through my car, the clarity hit me hard that the only thing that could have happened was it was stolen out of my purse while I was in the bathroom.

And then I started to cry. I cry often and for a surprising number of reasons. This cry was a frustrated and "no way is this happening" kind of cry. I panicked a little when I realized I couldn't get out of the parking deck and was starving [and pregnant] and REALLY wanted to eat something and was about to call my boss for some money or at least Jericho to tell him what happened. But instead I regrouped and decided to investigate. First, some geographical information about where I am: the Chapel Hill courthouse is at a main thoroughfare on Franklin Street, right across from UNC campus. The main entrance to the courthouse is in the front, naturally, but I use the one in the back, again because I'm "court personnel" and that door is a locked, coded door. So the back entrance is not a high traffic area [also why I didn't think it a big deal to leave my stuff outside the bathroom].

I remembered that when I left the courthouse initially that there were a few people standing out back, and thought, maybe, just maybe those could be the people who stole my wallet since they appeared to have been the only other people to have recently left the courthouse by the back door. I went back to where they were and, of course, they were gone. I went back inside to look around [remember there is a criminal court going on]. I didn't see them so I told Deputy Charlie what I suspected and went out to Franklin Street to look around. I'm a little frantic at this point but relatively under control. Once on Franklin Street, I see an African American couple and two young children. I'm looking at them and going over and over through my memory if these could be the people that I saw behind the courthouse. I notice that they had a shopping bag with them and are close to a number of small shops and convenience stores. Before I go hollering and flailing my arms at these people about stealing my wallet, I went into the stores to verify that they'd been there. First store, gave a description of suspected perps, asked if they'd paid with a credit card [since I knew I didn't have any cash in my wallet], the cashier said no, they hadn't been in there. Second store, same questions, and the lady said, "yes". I asked to see the credit card receipt. She showed it to me and at the bottom of the receipt under a signature that was most definitely not mine, was the printed name "C Kelley Belcher".

And then I turned green, doubled in size and broke down the door as I stormed out. No other time in my life have I felt the rage and determination and hysteria as I did at that moment. I exclaimed to the cashier woman, "That's me! Those people stole my credit cards!" In hindsight, I should have added, "Why didn't you check their flippin ID!?!?!" I ran out of the store and back down Franklin Street to where I last saw the piece-o-scum-people. They were gone. By now, I'm crying again. Not sad, weepy tears, but tears like I may actually inflict physical harm if I find these people. I went back to the courthouse and told Deputy Charlie what I'd discovered. He said they had just been in the courtroom for a hearing but were gone now. I started to run up and down Franklin Street [in my work heels, no less], in and out of all the stores and restaurants within two blocks, asking for help and giving these people's description. I'm crying and running and alternating muttering between threats and prayers. If any of you were on Franklin Street around this time and saw me, I hope this explains a lot. I'm sure I was a sight. I passed a couple of pan-handlers during my tirade and heard one say to the other, "Whoa, that girl is MAD."

After about 20-30 minutes of this, I knew they were gone. Luckily, there is a branch of my bank on that same block. I righted myself, put out the flames that were erupting from the sides of my face, and went into the bank. I quickly told the smiley counter guy that I needed to close my accounts because someone stole my wallet. He then called over one of the manager-type people. She came around the counter, put her arm around me and asked what happened. Apparently I looked like I needed a hug. Imagine that. I sob again and blabber to her the story. She sets me in an office with another manager-type person to take care of the logistics. Over an hour, and within less than an hour of my wallet being stolen, the fraudulent transactions were identified and canceled [a whopping $50 worth], all of my accounts were closed, the account and cards were flagged, and I got all new accounts. I still didn't have any money so I asked the bank man if I'm allowed to withdraw some cash before everything is closed. Sure! How much? *Sniff* I just need to get out of the *sniff* parking deck and *sniff* eat some dinner. *sniff* So like twenty dollars? *sniff* P-p-please? *Sniff*

I was so pathetic I laugh so hard every time I've had to retell this story.

In all this time, I still hadn't called Jericho. First I make a phone call to address my basketball practice for that night that I'm most definitely not going to make it to coach my girls. I balled during that retelling about why I couldn't make it so I decided I still needed to calm down. I had a 30 minute drive home and Harry Potter on CD to mellow me out. And it worked. I got home and calmly retold the whole thing to Jericho, who stood wide-eyed the entire time. He gave me a hug and told me how proud he was that I'd acted so quickly in figuring out what happened and already addressed all the banking stuff. And he even picked up some dinner and rubbed my feet [but only after I played the "I was robbed today!!!" card a couple times].

I'm sorry folks, but the story does not end there. The next morning I got to work and told my boss about the exciting events that transpired after court the day before. I love my boss for a number of reasons. This was definitely one of them. All during the story, she was PISSED. She was swearing about this woman and how we were going to "get her!" and she was "going to pay!". She spent most of the morning on the phone with admins and judges at the courthouse figuring out who the woman was. In short, we determined that she'd been a defendant on the docket for CRC and that she was there with her two little kids and the only one to have her kids with her which means she was called first and the ONLY one dismissed promptly after her case, right about the time that I would have been hanging out in the bathroom. We found out her name and her next court date. She made an extremely idiotic choice in who she robbed that day.

I talked to the attorney in my office who handles criminal matters and she told me to file a police report. She told me what to do and by the end of the day, there was an investigator assigned to the case. Fast forward to the present. I hadn't heard anything in two months so I emailed the investigator last week to check in. Apparently my suspect has been tough to track down but that she would be in court later that week [Thursday] so the cop was going to go have a chat with her then. The investigator called me yesterday to let me know how it went. The suspect and her boyfriend/baby-daddy both denied knowing anything about the incident and they clearly "knew all the right answers" and how to talk to cops. All that can be done now is for the investigator to pull everything she has together and give it to a D.A. and they'll decide if they want to move any further. But as for now, nothing's really happening.

It'd be nice if this story had a more dramatic ending. It'd be nice if I could have vengeance and that wretched woman would pay for stealing from me. Luckily I believe in justice from more places than the court system. I don't believe in karma, so to speak, but I do believe that no act like this goes without consequences. I may not ever see the consequences that befall this woman, but I know she'll get them one day. Just the fact that she has a life that requires probation and monthly court appearances goes to show that prosperity and happiness don't come to those that put themselves above rules and make choices regardless of the harm it brings to others. And who stick their grubby paws in my fabulous Jessica Simpson purse.

I did learn some precious life lessons from this experience:
~ It's truly sad that we live in a world where people think they deserve someone else's property more than the rightful owner. But to know that people are stealing in front of their children, telling them that this is an acceptable way to live one's life makes me angrier than I can even put into words.
~ Clearly our court systems need some help if a defendant walks out of a criminal hearing and within 5 minutes has lifted someone's wallet and committed credit card fraud.
~ I will never say a negative thing about my bank ever again. They handled the situation better than I could have imagined.
~ Even the people at DMV are nicer once they find out you're there because your wallet was stolen.
~ I no longer have to wonder just how fast I can run in heels if the need arises.

Let's hope my phone call yesterday with the investigator wasn't the last and that the perp gets what's coming to her. I know I should be praying for her and especially those two kids. I know I should forgive her. But I'm not quite there yet. I'm not nearly as upset as I was 2 months ago but, as an author I read recently said, "Forgiveness is about getting to the point where you've stopped swinging your fists." And I'm not quite there yet. Not quite...

Valentine's Day

2011-02-18T15:59:00.000-05:00

Jericho and I have never been big on Valentine's Day celebrations. We usually go out to eat and chalk it up as our celebration. This year I decided I wanted to make a nice dinner at home the Sunday before. Especially since I haven't cooked us any real meals in a WHILE. I'm blaming this on my weird pregnancy appetite and not pure laziness.

I decided to make a dish that I hadn't made since our first Valentine's together when we were dating. It's an involved, time-consuming dish. It's one of the most delicious dishes I know how to make and also, hands down, the most fattening. Hence why I only cook it once every few years. My body needs that much time to recuperate.

This recipe has fond memories for me. In college, a friend named Chris Merrill decided that he loved the Chicken Scallopini dish from Johnny Corino's so much that he begged the waiter one night to find out how to make it. So Chris became the holder of the coveted recipe for the Chicken Scallopini and one weekend got a bunch of us together for a group date at his grandparents' cabin in the Palisades and we all made this dish together for dinner. After that, it was made a few more times and fine-tuned and has continued as one of the most divine recipes in my collection. And, Corino's has since changed how they make it and the way we made is totally better.

One of the reasons I like this dish is because, although there is a recipe, there aren't precise measurements for the ingredients. I consult it to remember what I need to buy but that's about it. I feel that once you get going, the inner cook in you takes over and instincts dictate how much of this and that are required. In order to share it with you though, I've tried to clean up the instructions. This version is also morphed from the original. As I've matured in my culinary skills, I've churched it up a bit.

Ingredients
Chicken breasts- 1 per every two people
heavy cream (at least 1 pint)
1 large tomato
1 small red onion, chopped
1 package mushrooms, sliced to preferred size
2-3 cloves garlic
1 package bacon
1/2 cup asiago cheese, grated (or Parmesan or Romano but I liked the asiago the best)
1 cup mozzarella cheese, grated (separate into 1/2 cup portions)
2 eggs, beaten
Bread crumbs
Pasta of your choice
Some butter

Instructions (with some added words of wisdom)
Sauce:
1) Cook the bacon. Let cool and break into small pieces. Do not undercook. It should easily break apart but not burnt. Chewy bacon in a sauce is gross. Set aside the pan of bacon grease. Yes my dears, you'll use it later. Paula Dean will be so proud.
2) Heat a saute/frying pan over medium heat, melt a tablespoon of butter and add garlic, mushrooms and onions to saute. [My tip on mushrooms: for sauces, slice mushrooms thin across, like an onion. For eating them as a side or along with other veggies, quarter in big chunks. And, according to Julia Child, don't crowd the mushrooms or they'll never brown!] Once veggies are done, dump out into a bowl and set aside. Set pan aside and keep it dirty.

3) In a large sauce pan (3 quarts or more), melt 2 tablespoons of butter over medium-low heat. Once melted gradually add 2 tablespoons of flour to make a roux. Once mixed, gradually add the cream while continuing to stir. Roux will eventually melt into the cream as the sauce heats up so don't worry if it seems to stay separated.
4) After sauce has heated, add the asiago cheese and 1/2 cup of mozzarella. [You may find you need to turn the heat up to medium. I cook with gas so mine is hot at pretty low settings.] Then add the bacon and mushroom/onion mixture. Depending on how you like your sauce, you may toy with the cream measurements. If your roux ends up making it thicker than you want, add more cream. I don't like a really thick, heavy cream sauce and since I can't thin it out with wine, I add some water (about 1/2 cup). The asiago cheese and the heavy cream are strong enough flavors that the water doesn't dilute them.

5) Go get your dirty saute pan and heat it over medium heat. When it's warm but not burning the saute leftovers, deglaze the pan with about a 1/4 cup of water. It should sizzle. Pour the liquid into the sauce. This step is not necessary but I think it adds even more flavor to the sauce and makes the pan easier to clean later. You'll be surprised how much the onion mixture adds to the dish. This also helps to thin out the cream some while still enhancing flavor.
6) Sauce is done. Set aside over low heat to keep warm and let the flavors keep simmering together.
Chicken:
7) At some point before you get going on the chicken, start your water to boil for the pasta and cook your pasta. The chicken doesn't take that long and you want that to be your very last step so they'll be hot and crispy.
8) Chicken tip: thinner breasts are optimal for this since they'll be getting fried and they'll cook much faster. Either buy the pre-sliced thin chicken breasts or you can always do it yourself. I also cut them halfway across. So you can get 4 little pieces out of each breast.
9) Beat 2 eggs in shallow bowl. Pour bread crumbs into another shallow bowl. You can always add more bread crumbs as you go so just start out with enough to get you going so you don't waste them.

10) Heat up your bacon grease again over medium heat. [Too hot will overcook the outside of the chicken before the inside is done and will probably pop a lot and burn your hands. Too cool won't cook them fast enough and they'll slowly soak up more grease as they cook. Ew.] Dip your chicken pieces in the egg then dip in the bread crumbs to thoroughly coat and place in the heated bacon grease. Each side only needs about 2-3 minutes, depending on thickness. But you can always check as you go with a knife. That's what I do because this is the only time I EVER fry anything and the procedure is still a little foreign to me.
11) Layer all your yummy pieces together, top with shredded mozzarella cheese and diced tomatoes.

And on to more pictures. Remember, it's part of my goals this year to take more pictures. So far, I've taken more pictures of food.

After dinner settled, we dove into this cake. I had about a gallon of homemade caramel dip leftover from our Super Bowl party and needed to find a way to use it since Jericho looks at me funny when I eat it out of the container with a spoon. And so I made Better Than Sex Cake. Such a dumb name. But that's what it's known by so that's what I call it. Whatever you call it, it is pretty fantastic.

Then on Monday we had plans to go to a movie. Since we knew every restaurant would be packed with Valentine goers, the plan was to swing by someplace gross like Taco Bell to load up my purse and eat our gross, smelly food during the movie. But, on my way home from work, there was a brush fire on I-40 which shut down the highway and I sat in my car for about an hour. Good thing I had my Harry Potter on audio book to pass the time. Jericho called and asked what I wanted for plan B and I said pizza. A heart-shaped pizza. Turns out Papa Johns has a heart-shaped pizza on Valentine's Day. But it's $16 and you only get one topping versus the Monday night special of $9 for up to seven toppings. It's further evidence that Jericho and I will always be more of a practical couple than a romantic couple.

After dinner, I gave Jericho my present to him. Part of our non-Valentine-ness is we don't usually get each other presents either. I just happened to be shopping on Saturday and saw a gigantic Reese's heart. Reese's are Jericho's favorite. It still took him 3 days to eat it all.

And what is Valentine's without a card? One of the perks of looking for card at Wal-Mart is they are all so awesomely bad. SO bad. My quest was to find the worst. I figured any card that strove to be romantic while also managing to work "texting" into the prose was a winner. Jericho promptly displayed the card on our mantel.

I realize at the end of this post that not only is it extremely lengthy [sorry], but that it seems that I do everything on Valentine's Day which is somewhat against the social norm. It seems the stereotype is for women to sit back and wait for their surprises of flowers and gifts from the men in their lives. I would gladly take on Valentine's Day as a day to make Jericho feel special since it seems every other day of the year is spent by him making me feel special. It only seems fair.

Some things I'm learning

2011-02-09T11:09:00.000-05:00

Being pregnant pretty much takes over everything you do. Not that I'm complaining. It's a fun little adventure, actually. But I know that my pregnancy is not nearly as exciting to all of you as it is to me, nor will it ever be, no matter how wittily I attempt to relay my pregnancy tales. So I will attempt to limit your exposure to the play-by-plays of my life as a prego princess. But let's be honest. I'm going to tell them anyway. Because this is my blog and I do what I want.

Some things I'm learning

At least 90% of the time when I tell someone that I'm pregnant, their eyes flit to my stomach. I'm not sure what they're expecting. Like all the times they've seen me prior to this knowledge, even say 10 seconds ago before they knew, I didn't look pregnant. But now that they know, they have to check.

I had my first ultrasound visit about six weeks ago. I was excited for this visit. But turns out it wasn't quite as exciting as I expected. We had some quick pictures taken of the teeny tiny baby. We heard the heartbeat and got some measurements. And that was about it. At one point, I saw on the table next to me there was a box of tissues. I thought, Oh crap. Am I supposed to be crying? Is the nurse judging me because I'm not crazy emotional at the first visible evidence of my unborn child? Do I not love my child!? Am I going to be a bad mother?!!!

I had a second ultrasound a few weeks later that was just the sound part and no picture. All I heard was the heartbeat. For some reason this ultrasound was much cooler for me than the one in the fancy ultrasound room with the big screen TV. I even let out a little gasp. I guess I'm just fine.

Pregnancy books and websites all compare the size of your growing baby to food. Congratulations your little one is now the size of a lentil! grape! kumquat! medium-sized mango! Who the heck knows off the top of their head what a kumquat looks like? This makes it a little depressing when I think about the size of this miniature child compared to the amount of weight I'm gaining... the numbers just don't match up. If my baby is the size of a lime, why can't I gain the weight equivalent to a lime? I'll even take two limes worth.

When you get horribly sick and have to go to the urgent care, you're just another sick person with the flu. As soon as you add "...and I'm also 13 weeks pregnant" the whole game changes. Nurses are nicer and they tell you fascinating stories of their own pregnancies. They pat your hand a lot and give you tissues. They bring you crackers and ginger ale and extra sheets and tell you how sweet your husband is for being with you the whole day [I already know this]. And when your flu test comes back negative [I tried to tell them] and your white blood count is high, you don't get to go home with a scrip for antibiotics. You get to go to the ER of your one-day delivery hospital. Also, when you are pregnant and it turns out you have pneumonia, everyone you tell is utterly shocked that you're alive and functioning. I just tell them this is what happens when you're a super hero like me.

My appetite is way weird. Hunger, nausea, and full all feel about the same. And baby does not like Mexican food. At all. I'm fortunate that my nausea has been really mild. Not enough that I'm yuking but enough that it's annoying and causes only a handful of foods to be appetizing. And I whine a lot and have stopped cooking for my husband and me because food smells freak me out and I really have no idea what I want to eat. Ever. I find that the most consistent food winners are cold, soft foods. I.E. yogurt, pudding, grapes, apple sauce, ice cream. Oh man, I can down me some ice cream.

[photo via]

More for 2011

2011-01-27T15:13:00.000-05:00

As we can all observe from my numbers, 2010 was a pretty sad year for my blog. [And for those that followed blog #2, this sadness is clearly evident. My lesson learned: keeping up with two blogs is hard and time consuming. So I'm letting that one go.] I have already decided that part of 2011 will be to blog more and to take more pictures. But I'm not getting into 2011 goals just yet. First, let's revisit 2010.

For the most part, I think 2010 was a great year. I accomplished some big things in addition to most everything on my written list of goals for 2010. [As can be seen here]. Last year was the year of the house, the cruise, the sealing, the haircut, the weightloss. The weightloss was epic. Even if that was the only significant thing I did last year, I'd still chalk it up as one of the most successful years of my life.

As it goes thus far, 2011 is looking to be a monumental year, maybe even more than last. My goal list reflects some of the potential greatness 2011 will contain. So let's see...

[in no particular order of importance]

~ Deliver my child on July 31 [Harry Potter's birthday]
~ Make separate to-do list for all things baby and keep it under 100 items
~ Make separate to-do list for everything that needs to happen before Jericho gets deployed
~ Buy a bike
~ Visit Utah [Check! Tickets already purchased.]
~ Read more books
~ Paint and decorate more of the house
~ Take more pictures
~ Play the piano more
~ Blog more
~ Do not turn my blog into a mom-blog. All of my readers have the authority to call me out at any point if this starts to resemble a mom-blog.
~ Sign up for a CSA
~ Eat more organic, whole foods
~ Cook more
~ Exercise more

I have a lot of things to do more of this year. It'll be tough. I already know that 2011 will be the year of the first baby and the year of the deployment [the first part of the deployment anyway]. I can't really put those on a to-do list since Jericho's deployment falls under Obama's to-do list [more on the deployment later]. And this baby will come per his/her own agenda. Most of my year will be to prepare my life for those two pretty huge events. Wish me luck.

Quilting 101

2011-01-20T14:30:00.000-05:00

So I started this quilt.

I'm not what one would consider a "quilter". I made a t-shirt quilt in college but that hardly counts. This new quilt, small as it may be, is a legitimate step towards being an actual quilter. A few months ago, a lady in my most recent old ward (Chapel Hill 1st) decided to teach a basic hand-quilting class. And who doesn't love a good craft day?

I needed a basic pattern to start my quilt. I wanted something simple and attainable. In my "free quilt pattern" Googling (because I'm cheap and didn't want a buy a whole book of ugly quilt patterns), I found an abundance of baby and kid quilts. Bingo! I'll make a baby quilt! It's small and not some overwhelmingly huge Amish quilt. Most people choose to make quilts for something useful like, ya know, a bed. I chose to make the most miniature quilt possible and have it still be considered a quilt. For two reasons: 1) small means attainable in a reasonable time period and I won't get bored when it's only half-done, and 2) I know that I'll have a baby someday and since most of my projects end up with a someday deadline, the timing will be perfect.

In the class, I learned how to do this. It's called piecing. Each one of the pieces is hand-cut and hand-stitched with this cute little "quilter's stitch". It was recommended that I take the small pieces around with me and work on them in church or the bus stop or the beauty parlor with my friends Maude and Harriet. Alas, I chose to do mine solely at home while watching football. It took forever. And it was only half done at this stage.

This is the side you'll actually be seeing. Much better. My most jubilant part about this quilt? My corners lined up in the center square. I danced around the room with it trailing me like a cape. It was glorious.

After the above section was done, it was time to get some batting. I did some research and decided on cotton because it's thinner and apparently easier to work with and it was on sale. Lesson learned: if your batting/fabric is bigger than your kitchen table, don't cut it on the table and expect the measurements to come out accurate.

With all three sections cut (roughly) and pinned together, it was time to start quilting. Since I'm super novice at quilting, I chose a design that would hide and not accentuate the flaws. It's a bunch of squiggly lines. When it's done, it should look like this. Look at my hoop. Don't I look pro?

When I started this project, like many of my other projects, I was all jazzed about my new venture and that I was succeeding. And the fact that I only had a someday deadline was even more reason to do it just for the fun of it. No deadline equals no stress! Right?

But, a couple of months ago, my someday deadline was gone. My non-existent completion date turned into August 5, 2011. My baby quilt-in-progress now has a real, live, prospective owner. A teeny, tiny, yet growing owner. We've got a ways to go before he/she is big enough for my awesome hand-made quilt, which is fine, since I'm not done yet. While not having a project deadline is nice, knowing I'm making it for my current, growing baby is fantastically fun.

Thanksgiving

2010-12-06T08:56:00.001-05:00

This post is over a week late but I'm still thankful so Thanksgiving is still relevant.

This year, I hosted my very first Thanksgiving dinner. It had its moments but it wasn't nearly as stressful as I expected. I cooked the entire day Wednesday and Thursday. And I was only cooking for five people.

The recipe list. In order of cooking priority from left to right. It was mostly accurate.

Day 1 included Pomegranate Cranberry Jelly. [Have you ever cooked fresh cranberries? They pop and crack as they cook! It's so fun!]


And the rolls. Dough cooked in a stock pot? Yes. And it rose. There is little else that brings more joy to a baker than bread dough rising. Audible celebrations were had. Especially after the below-mentioned incident with the turkey.

And I made this. It was beautiful. And delicious. I love that I was raised by Yankee parents but all these Thanksgivings sans PEcan pie... we never knew what we were missing.

As mentioned above, my only noteworthy adventure of the whole experience was the turkey. Stupid bird.

I got this beautiful, happy turkey from Whole Foods. No preservatives or hormones or other junk. My plan for the tastiest bird ever on a newbie's first try at Thanksgiving dinner: brine!!

Ah lovely brine ingredients. It started out with so much potential.


A beautiful bath of salty goodness. My kitchen smelled fantastic.

This was the original plan. I read from numerous sources that this was an entirely acceptable, even recommended, way to brine your turkey. Doesn't it look so happy and cozy in its little bath?


It wasn't. After spilling brine all over the floor - twice - it got mad at me and sprung a leak once in the bag. The reason I chose to brine in a brining bag was because a) it's a "brining bag", that's what it does, and b) I lack ownership of anything large enough to hold a 12 pound turkey plus 2 gallons of liquid. Hence when it started leaking, I panicked and starting rapidly ticking off a list of everything in my house/garage that could hold all the goods. Coming up with nothing, I resorted to placing the leaking bag inside another non-leaking bag and hoisting it back in the cooler and filling it with 2 more bags of ice. And there it remained for 24 hours. I may or may not have sworn at the turkey.

Then, after cooking, per instructions, for requisite time and temperature, all seemed well and good and we removed and got ready to slice. Unfortunately, due to either faulty instructions, faulty thermometer or faulty cook- the bird wasn't done. It's a good thing I didn't have those mini-pitchforks in my hands when we realized it wasn't done.


So then we did this for another 45 minutes or so and played "I'm thankful for..." but in alphabetical order. I.E. A- apples. B- bunny rabbits. C- children's laughter. D- dental floss. It proved to be a rather fun way to pass the remaining turkey-cooking time.


I'm so glad my family was there with me. Aren't they cute? I love them. I wouldn't have finished everything without all hands on deck. My dad loves doing dishes. Don't let him tell you otherwise.


All eventually turned out being delicious even though it was a little later than planned.


And I only subjected my family to about 15 minutes of portrait attempts. I am thankful for S- self-timers and T- tripods.

Overall, my inaugural Thanksgiving hosting event was a success.
Lessons learned:
1) next year, explore deep-frying because the brined turkey tasted about the same as a less high-maintenance preparation, or pretty much any other option.
2) always have pecan pie. always.
3) roasting garlic is so yummy. How did I never do this until now?
4) you do NOT need more than 5 lbs of potatoes for 5 people
5) I feel I earned a merit badge in my culinary ambitions by successfully manning Thanksgiving dinner. But it was so much more fun for those couple hours my family was there to help cook than it was kickin it all by myself. Or maybe my family is just so much fun that anything is better with them around. Yeah, it could be that too...

Writing on the Wall

2010-11-09T10:59:00.001-05:00

I have this wall. I hate blank walls. I had a plan for all other walls in this room except for this one. Every time I go in the study, the wall is challenging me: "Hey man, think you got a plan, huh? Well you don't! I'm big and empty and I like it that way. You lose. Sucka."

The wall did not speak to husband in the same way as it spoke to me. He didn't feel taunted and teased by the blank study wall. But I did. And I knew I needed to conquer it. So. I found a plan. It started with listening to Ray Bradbury's Fahrenheit 4-5-1 [which, by the way, don't. It's read by Ray Bradbury and he's either 100 years old, extremely fat, extremely drunk or all of the above. Slurring and audible breath refills don't work for audio books].

Anyway. There is a quote in the beginning that I loved. I thought:
Hm. I love that line.
I should do something with that.
How about I type it up in a cool font, frame it, and stick in on a wall.
Which wall?
How about the study wall? Ya know, books in the study, book quotes on the wall. It could work right?
It's too big for just one little quote.
How about a bunch of quotes in a photo collage?
That would take a lot of frames. That's expensive and I've already planned a photo frame collage for another wall. Don't want to go picture collage crazy...
What else could I do with this quote?

I could write it on the wall!

By this point, I've missed about half of the slurring, breath-gasping first chapter of the book but am totally jazzed about my new idea and am already thinking of other books/authors/quotes that I want to use to fill up my wall and what kind of pen/art supplies I should use.

Problem step: convince husband.

His initial response was "I don't know how I feel about encouraging people to write on our walls." Because I had included my almost favorite part of my plan: have people who come to my house contribute and write their own personal favorites on the wall. I could see he needed more convincing.

I don't know about you but when I come up with an idea for something "creative", I'm not entirely sold on my own ability to come up with something cool. So I go to Google and search for validation that someone else on some cool decor blog has done something like it and therefore, I'm not completely off my rocker for wanting to do said creative project. Although, if I don't find a similar project, I just chalk it up to having a completely original cool idea. Either way, Google validates all creative endeavors.

Validation #1
Months ago on a wallpaper search, I found this wallpaper at Anthro. I love it. But don't love that it's $700 per roll. That's just insane. But I mentioned this to husband. See! Someone else did this in wallpaper form and is charging obscenely for it!

Validation #2
Extreme doodling. Granted this is actual artwork and not written word but I write much better than I draw. Plus the idea of drawing anything on the wall caters to that inner-rebellious child. And we're all supposed to listen to our inner-child right?

Validation #3
If you saw this movie, you know how totally rad this was. Perk: my wall won't have the inconvenience of chalk dust all over the place.

Validation #4
You. I know you can't see the vision I have in my head of this project but you get the general idea. Fill an entire wall with handwritten quotes from books. The font will not be too big or too small. Too tiny will look messy and too big will look unintentional. I'll start in the middle and balloon out. Use the same color throughout. What do we think?

Mulling Things Over: Part 3 (Holiday Edition)

2010-11-05T10:18:00.000-04:00

Halloween

When I tell people I don't really like or even celebrate Halloween, you'd think I just cursed their firstborn child or spit on the American flag. I'm not going to go into all my reasons for why I don't care for it but they are very legit and I stand by them. But this year, I started to reconsider my aversion to the holiday. For reasons as follows:

1) I love pumpkin. I made pumpkin muffins, pumpkin pancakes, and chocolate pumpkin pie this fall. I'm considering devoting the entire month of October next year to pumpkin recipes.

2) The color orange makes me really happy. I think my house would look totally rad in orange decorations.

3) A dozen or so costumed kids rang our doorbell Saturday night. They were so happy and excited and SO cute in their often ill-fitting costumes. I told Jericho that once we have kids, we'll become better Halloween people.

Thus I have found that there are things about an otherwise annoying holiday to enjoy and celebrate and therefore save some face for all those that think it's offensively un-American to not like Halloween.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thanksgiving

This year, Thanksgiving is at my house for the very first time ever. Our guest list is a whopping five people but I'm researching enough recipes to feed a football team. [Is four pies too many for five people?] I can't help myself. I feel intimidated and empowered by the challenge. Thanksgiving is the gold medal round for all cooks. A culinary walkabout. It's the culmination of all my cooking skills, all to be manifested in one glorious day full of sweat and tears and decadent fall fare. And, it's giving me an valid excuse to buy more fun kitchen gadgets. And I'm pre-ordering my never-frozen, organic turkey from Whole Foods. I do work in Chapel Hill, after all.

Anyone need a place to go for Thanksgiving? Our house seats up to 14...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Christmas

I decided to send Christmas cards this year. I've finalized the list and ordered them from Pear Tree Greetings getting the early bird discount. I've even started my Christmas shopping. Every year, I always say I want to start my Christmas shopping earlier but it never happens. I end up planning but never actually doing. This Saturday, I may attempt do some more at the grand opening of the Tanger Outlet mall. It's going to be epic. This beauty occupies a piece of property directly across the interstate from my neighborhood. It's going to destroy traffic on our exit. But it'll be epic. Our neighborhood HOA is petitioning for the town to build a skywalk over I-40.

My house will also be host to some family over the Christmas holiday. I've never played hostess to house guests before so I'm a little excited. Husband doesn't understand why I plan so much for anticipated house guests. I guess it's a woman thing. At least now we have a mattress for the extra queen bed.

Who knew having a house would infuse so much domestic responsibility into my life?

Eighteen Months Old

2010-11-02T09:38:00.000-04:00

Today, Jericho and I are eighteen months old. Eighteen months. We're definitely still newbies. [Keen Mary decided to count her marriage age in months until they reached the two year mark, much like you do with children. It makes sense so I shall do the same.]

It seemed the first few months of marriage went by rather slowly. Not in a bad way. Lots of transitions and newness. Lots of excitement on our new adventures.

But newness and adventures wane a little and you get caught into the swing of life. Adventures still come along and you learn your lessons together instead of individually. You learn how to make things fun and not sweat the small stuff.

You learn that you're not just playing house. But it is comforting to have a house, a friend in that house every day to come home to, and a husband that provided that house. And mows the lawn and builds shelves and vacuums and plants bushes and yells at the construction people for oozing mud all over our beautiful grass.

No matter how busy we are, I'm still thankful every day that I'm married to Jericho. He is my constant.* He is my confidant and comedian. He is my cheerleader and tissue box. And he thinks I'm funny.

I'm glad I have someone that goes fun places with me and even some places that aren't fun. Well, maybe not fun for him but I think the bookstore is fantastically fun. To know you'll never be alone in anything is delightful and totally spoiling.

You're pretty stinking in love on the day you get married. But every day after tells you just how much you didn't know about love on that day. It's a pretty small day in comparison to everything else that you have from that day forward. I'm excited for many more months to come.

Happy eighteen months to my favorite person ever.

*see Season 5 of LOST

Deep-Fried North Carolina

2010-10-26T09:40:00.012-04:00

One of my favorite things about North Carolina is the State Fair. Just as most that are devoted to their home states, we all truly believe that everything from or in our home state is the best of its kind [i.e. for NC- Krispy Kreme donuts, Bojangles, beaches, fall foliage, pigs, cigarettes]. With most places, these superior claims could arguably be true. [Except for Texas and Canadia.] And thus it will be true for the NC State Fair. I didn't think it was all THAT special. I assumed that everyone's state fairs included ample deep-fried weird things, pig races, cow auctions, demolition derbies, mull-pulls and the like. This year, I noticed through Facebook just how many NC emigrants throughout the country voiced their longing for the happenings of the NC fair since their new respective state's fair didn't measure up.

When I first started taking pictures at the fair this year, I thought how cool it would be to do a photo journey of all that can be found at the fair. But alas, not only was it raining when we got there so the nice camera was left in the car, but there is no WAY I could capture everything in one trip. So here is a small snapshot of our fair experience this year.


First stop is the Methodist Church ham biscuits! And some pretty tasty onion rings.

We didn't even come close to being tempted to try this. I think I got indigestion just getting close enough to take a picture. Ew.

We did, however, chow down on fried mac-n-cheese and PB&J. I know that mug looks like it should be frothing over with beer but it's just some tasty Pappy's soda.

The boy loves him some peanut butter.

Toured inside the buildings. Aside from the homemade contests people enter, the rest are like a giant collision of infomercials and a flea market.

Speaking of contests. Did you know you could win a blue ribbon for table decorating? I think I've found a competition to aspire to next year.

Joined up with mom and Krissy and Wade later in the evening and shared some cheese steaks and fried Snickers. Lesson learned- don't wear black when eating food covered in powdered sugar.

Stopped by the produce and cow display. The fair isn't ALL about eating...

These were some HUGE cows. All the cows/calves hanging out matched except for these two. She felt a little out of place since it was clear paternity was a surprise once the baby was born.

$10 to ride the Ferris Wheel. I took a picture instead.

House Decor

2010-09-28T09:17:00.000-04:00

Having a new house is exciting. Decorating a new house is exciting and daunting, if you're a girl, boys, however, don't seem to be affected by this. When you move from a 2 bedroom apartment to a 2300 square foot house, you run out of furniture and decor very quickly. And I unfortunately have a phobia of empty walls. I'm finding this to be an expensive phobia.

My boss, wise as she is, gave me some good advice about buying wall art. "Buy what you like, THEN figure out where you're going to put it. You'll eventually find you've covered your house in pieces you love without ever really planning it." Granted she has a collection of real art and I have a hodge podge of art and little things I made myself, but the idea is still the same.

One thing that I like that will eventually end up in my house, is from this site:

I love these!! And I can pick any color to match any room and they're really reasonably priced. I'm super excited. I've decided I want to get the "Oh Happy Day" poster. I have mixed feelings on the cutesy boards/decals that people get for their wedding date. You know, the "Established on Jan 1, 2010" in pretty letters over their last name. I like the concept but felt like it was starting to get cliche and I hate cliche. Another [expensive] phobia of mine. But I love the poster on this site. So be looking for it on my wall in the near future, or at least propped up against a potential wall until I decide where it should go....

Sweeps Week

2010-09-20T09:06:00.000-04:00

When did I become this person? I used to follow 2, maybe 3, television shows. Now I need a schedule for premier week and I don't even have cable or a DVR. It simplify things a little that our digital tuner doesn't pick up NBC [necessitating frequent use of Hulu]. It does, however, get an evangelical channel, 4 Spanish channels and doubles of the CW and CBS.

The following are my contenders for the fall season.

New shows I'm interested in:

Hawaii Five-0- The production value alone on this show looks pretty impressive. And I like Scott Caan and Jin from LOST and I have no competing shows for the 10:00 time slot on Monday nights. I'll at least watch the pilot.

My Generation- Ya know what's depressing, this show could be about me. It's about people that graduated high school in the year 2000 and picking up their stories in present day. This is a huge check in the column of life signs that I am getting older.

Running Wilde- Love Will Arnett. Love Felicity. This could potentially be awesome.

Outsourced- Slightly interested. Again, I don't get NBC so this would take extra effort to watch it online.

Shows I've watched in the past but am I'm not entirely on board for this season:

The Biggest Loser- Reality shows run their course about 5 seasons before they actually get canceled. This one might be one of them. Plus, I'm getting tired of crying every week.

Parenthood- Watched most of last season but tampered off towards the end. I don't know what happened at the finale so I'm not as hooked to start up on it this season. And, I don't have NBC.

Grey's Anatomy- While I'm glad Izzy is finally gone, I spent the entire season finale from last year saying "Seriously?" over and over. If that wasn't a jump the shark season finale, I don't know what is. I've watched almost the entire series of this one but it's getting a little tired and stale.

Favorites that will remain as my must-see TV:

Bones- Formula crime dramas are as common as Silly Bands these days but Bones will always stand out as superior to them all, in my opinion. I sense that the series is starting to run a little dry but it still delivers plenty of intrigue and dark laughs.

How I Met Your Mother- Love it. Will watch until the very end.

Fringe- Fan-freakin-tastic. We were late to the game on this one and have been watching the past seasons on Netflix. Unfortunately, the most recent season (#2) was JUST released. We are catching up but will try to jump into this season as soon as we can.

Modern Family- Truly deserving of it's Emmy. I will be sticking around to see if Season 2 delivers.

Glee- Since FOX is one of the only stations that has reruns over the summer instead of creating short seasons of really lame dramas, I was able to catch up on Season 1 of Glee. I absolutely love it. Jericho even likes it [his favorite character is Sue Silvester].

Dancing with the Stars- I almost put this in the "maybe" category but it's the final season and lest we forget, David Hasselhoff is among the "stars". How can you pass up The Hoff?

The Office- This was also a tough call, mainly because once I start watching Fringe, there will be a conflict. And, I'll be honest, I'm starting to lose interest.

So what do we think? Am I missing any? Any I should absolutely take off my list and simplify my life? What shows are you looking forward to this season?

Mental Freedom

2010-09-10T22:02:00.000-04:00

I love the beach. Not just "I love vacations and relaxing and getting a tan." I love, love, LOVE the beach. I love the ocean. I love the wind and the smells and the food and the warmth. I often fantasize about having a boat or a beach house and finding some cheesy name for it. Like "Island Fantaseas" or "Waves of my heart".

I could live at the beach. I know a lot of people say that but I really think I could. A slower paced lifestyle is in my nature. No big cities or hustle and bustle. Living a life that allows life to happen instead of being worked away.

This weekend, I spend four great days with my family at Carolina Beach. I spent a morning on the oceanfront porch, book in hand, yogurt and muesli breakfast and a bottle of water, knowing that I could spend many, many days of my life doing that very thing. Perhaps one day the reading would instead be writing. Or editing pictures. Or talking to my husband and kids.

everyone's happier at the beach. it just happens that way

Life is too complicated. There are too many lists. Too many emails. Too many definitions of success. Too many electronics for when we get tired of thinking for ourselves. Life is meant to be absorbed, not washed quickly away and merely tolerated.

My first day back at work and in front of a computer after four days at the beach, my mind became instantly foggy, like I'd just woken up from a too-long nap. Never really focusing on anything and definitely not really caring about anything. And for what? A job? A paycheck? Being a productive member of society? Maybe it is all relative. Maybe appreciating the dynamic sensory experience of something like the ocean goes away if you live in it long enough. Maybe your senses become dull and in turn yearn for meetings and to-do lists and complicated schedules. Maybe. I'm sure happy to test that theory.

Sad, Sad August

2010-08-31T22:41:00.000-04:00

Wow. How lame am I? I'll tell you. Two posts in August! [This makes three]. That's super lame. My Analytics is even telling me how lame I am. My numbers are falling. It sent me an email that said "Your readership is falling at a rate of .47% per day. You're not posting. Your blog is entering lameness. If you continue in this sucky blogness and to tarnish the reputation of bloggers around the world, Blogger will hereby remove your blog from existence. This is your first warning."

I blame my lack of blogging on a few things... other than my own lameness.

1) I gave a talk in church last week. I had the entire month of August to prepare and thus spent most of my evenings and weekends researching and writing, time that otherwise would have been spent blogging. Maybe. Plus it was on a crazy huge topic: Grace and Works. I can now teach you an entire lesson on the gift of grace, which is something I couldn't do before last week. Success!

2) I spend all day at work on the computer. But don't you blog on a computer? This would normally be helpful but lately the 8 hours a day of computering has really started to take its mental toll on me. I've been avoiding the at-home computer whenever possible. Also, my at-home computer is slow as spit. Once Obama sends us our 8 Gs for buying a house, we can solve this problem.

3) I've been reading.

4) I haven't been taking very many pictures. What!? I know. Foolishness! This falls into the bigger excuse of plain ol laziness. I have a picture of Jericho and me from my birthday dinner. That's it. It's it lovely?

I also have this one from one of my quiet mornings with tea and a book in my fabulous new kitchen. Other than pictures of food, this is all I got.

5) I keep avoiding doing a post about the house. I have three draft posts started that have something to do with my new house. There's just so much I don't know where to start. And when it starts coming into blog form, it all seems so boring. Plus I posted all those pictures on Facebook. That was a cop-out though. I sometimes would like to think that this blog is my virtual journal and that I'll one day get it printed into a book. Therefore I get angry with myself when I neglect to post in detail about big things. Like the house. And my anniversary! Hello! I know I was in the Caribbean, but still. I should have written something on May 2. But alas, I didn't.

6) I am officially in a funk. Not a blog-funk. An all-encompassing funk. The last few months have been showing signs of an impending funk and I think it's officially here. And I think I know why. But I'm not sharing [part of it has to do with #2, kind of]. It requires more explanation that the #6 bullet point allows.

Happy Kelley-Day

2010-08-16T13:42:00.000-04:00

Today is my birthday.

Today, I am 28 years old. Twenty-eight! I'm officially in my late-twenties. I'm 2 years from 30. I'm half-way to 56. I'm the month of February [in a non-leap year].

My mother and father made me dinner on Saturday night. I had pre-birthday dessert last night. I had lunch out with my buddy coworkers. Tonight, I will be going out to eat with my dear husband and good friends to Firebirds. [Yummy yummy steaks without spending half a pay-check.]

More birthday posting after today since I don't have pictures yet to capture all that is my birthday. I just wanted to pop in and declare to the blog-world that it is my birthday. And having a birthday on a Monday is way weird.

Advocates for the Preservation of the Newly Married

2010-08-06T11:47:00.000-04:00

Married Person 1: "...Kelley's still a newlywed. She doesn't know yet what it's like to hate her husband."

Me: "I don't like to rush through my mornings. I like to take my time, eat some breakfast, actually talk to my husband for a little while before rushing out the door."

Married Person 2: "Oh you'll get past that phase."

Married Person 3: "Let's not tell too many real stories about our husbands in front of Kelley. She'll never want to get married." [said while I was engaged]

They are right about one thing. I still consider myself newly married. I have only been married for 15 months. But newly married doesn't equal newly stupid.

I have heard all my life that marriage is work. You will have fights. You will have disagreements. It will be tough. It will take sacrifice. I have never been a butterflies and rainbows and candles and romance kind of girl. I don't go skipping through the house at the sound of the my husband's voice at the end of the day because I can't wait to hug him and smell him and tell him how much I love him [okay, at least not everyday]. We don't sit around for hours looking into each others' eyes because there is nothing else we'd rather do with our time. We both have a very real and grounded approach to love and relationships.

And I am happy. I love my husband. He loves me. We are respectful to each other. We get along. We hang out. We talk about things. Nothing is always perfect but I'm happy. Why is that so wrong for me to be happy? Why do people that are married for a while feel that it is their duty to rain bitterness on young marriages? Is it because you are unhappy and misery loves company? Are you envious of new love? Is your husband not even close to mine in fabulousness and you hate me for it [this one is very believable, btw]?

The above are just a few examples of things I've been told over the past year and the list is much longer. I often get asked how I'm enjoying married life and when I respond with something positive [which is every time], I frequently receive a negative comment back like "Oh, well you're still a newlywed," or "Yeah, wait a few more years and you won't be saying that." According to the masses, once I pass say, 3-4 years, all bets are off. I stop taking my husband's phone calls. I stop enjoying the time I spend with him. The way he does everything from brushing his teeth to tying his shoes makes me hate his everliving guts. Why is it so expected and normal to allow this disintegration of marriages? And more importantly, why is it so normal that it be made public knowledge? [Don't even get me started on TV sitcoms that use insults and arguments in family settings are basis for their comedy. URG!]

I'm not saying that a marriage can only be great if it is always perfect bliss and harmony. Marriages change over the years. Problems and crises are inevitable. I'm not newly-stupid to the point where I don't recognize this. My biggest problem with the way people treat their marriages is they let their experiences, heart-aches, problems, etc, become other people's business. A marriage is two people. Not two people, plus your bridge club and bowling team. If you have a negative attitude towards marriage because of something in your life, that's your problem, not mine. Don't try to make others think that just because certain things happened in your marriage means that you need to warn all those that have happy marriages that it's gonna hit a crap-hole here in a few years.

It's one thing to have a problem that you confide in a friend for counsel and advice. It's entirely another to use your spouse's faults as fodder for the lunchroom table conversation. I really don't care to know the details of your latest fight or other intimate details of your spouse. Now next time I see said husband, I'm all awkward because all I'll be able to think is: "You got unnecessarily crazy-mad at your wife for that time she didn't park her car in the garage properly. Stupid jerk." And I don't want to be that person. I don't do band-wagon hatred.

This rant is becoming much longer than I anticipated. I know I'm not perfect but I try to at least be aware. I have felt strongly about this for some time, ever since I started getting the light-hearted "warnings" about marriage when I was engaged. I recently read in the Ensign a tip on marriage that said something to the effect of: Keep your marriage in your marriage. You owe your spouse a level of respect to not let the petty, and sometimes not so petty, issues become trivial topics of conversation with your friends. I would be mortified if I found out that my husband was sharing stories with his buddies about a recent fight or venting about something I do that makes him postal [we all know this isn't possible because I don't do anything that annoys him, right]. It has become so common place to vent about marriages that people don't think it odd or in poor taste anymore to gossip about your spouses. Your spouse should take a place far above all others when it comes to the level of respect and loyalty that you give them.

Rant over.

Mulling things over- Part 2

2010-07-22T10:41:00.000-04:00

I have an obsessive desire to do projects. It's why I love to cook. It's why I love to read books. Starting and finishing something gives me an indescribable sense of empowerment. This grand empowerment is due to the fact that I don't always finish projects. So when I do, it's gold star time. Ever since I was a kid, this was always something I wished I could change. I can design and create artistic decorations for my house that take hours upon hours to complete. But I still can't manage to fold my clean laundry in a timely fashion. It's very paradoxical in my world. I should be studied.

~~~~~~~~~~

I often wonder what we're supposed to be in this life. Our faith shapes our character. Our family shapes our character. Our experiences shape our character. But what is the ultimate person that we are supposed to be? Are we variables? Or is the person we are when we're 21 the foundational character of who we will always be? I heard somewhere once that we have lost most of our ability for change by the time we're 30, or something like that. That's frightening to me. I hope to change and grow every day for the rest of my life. Not that I'm not happy with who I am and what my life is now, but the idea that anything could remain in a relatively similar spectrum of definition makes me wary of the future. I recently read in a novel an exchange between a boss and an employee he was firing. He attempted to encourage her by saying that she had her whole future ahead of her. She responded, "Everyone's whole future is a head of them. It's why it's called the future." I guess it's what we do with that future that is supposed to be encouraging.

~~~~~~~~~~

Also, in reading this recent book, I realized how easy it must be to get a book published. My heart, there are some poorly written books out there. Why shouldn't I be a writer? How would I do it? Where would I start? Clearly I don't have to start with much if all these people with rambling prose and run-on sentences are getting published. Every time I read one of these books, I'm further inspired to take a stab at it. Conversely, if I don't succeed, then I'm reminded of how horrible the books are of authors that have succeeded and therefore mine is actually below them. I'd rather have my book sell only 50 copies [most likely all purchased by my parents] and end up in the bargain bin. At least that is a more acceptable form of semi-failure.

~~~~~~~~~~

I watched most of the World Cup last month. One thing that baffled me in every game was the fouls. Not the amount of fouls or the nature of those that were committed but the reaction of the offender whenever the whistle was blown against them. These professional soccer players have been playing soccer for a while. Some probably twenty years. And yet, whenever they commit a foul, they are ALWAYS surprised when the whistle is blown. Come on, like you didn't know? Not even a little hint in that conscious of yours that maybe, just maybe, by taking that guy out at the ankles was going to draw a whistle? I thought this was strange but then I began to see similar behavior off of the soccer field. Apparently it is in our nature to defend and rationalize. I recently witnessed a juvenile at his first appearance in court for breaking and entering in a car with the intent for larceny. He was crying and physically upset about the situation. I really couldn't feel sorry for him. I thought the same thing as with the soccer players, are you really that surprised? You bust out some windows in a car, get caught, and you're little 15 year old heart is surprised? People can't help themselves. Passion and emotions somehow override our voices of common sense and logic. It seems that logic is what should prevail amongst such rampant irrational behaviors. But then again, no one would ever fall in love either...

Allegations of Neglect

2010-07-19T08:42:00.000-04:00

I feel that I've been neglecting this blog. Sometimes I feel this huge push to write a post a day but lately, my blogness has been a little weak. Jericho and I do have numerous house projects in the works and those will most likely be turned into blog posts. But even those I'll have to space out or else this'll turn into a DIY crafty, home projects blog. And I don't know how I feel about that.

In the meantime, I have been blogging a little on my foodie blog. Last night, we celebrated my dad's birthday with dinner and dessert. Since I normally would have blogged on that here, I feel I should at least reference it on this blog.

You can read about the food we had last night here. It makes me hungry to look at it.

Winston Antiquing

2010-07-10T21:46:00.001-04:00

This weekend, Jericho's BFF was in Winston-Salem to work on his BMW and asked Jericho to come help. I tagged along because I didn't really have any interest in staying in Mebane all by myself but I wasn't really sure what I was going to do. Since the boys were doing boy things with the cars, I decided to do girl things and go shopping. More specifically, I looked up local thrift/antique/consignment shops in the area. Well wasn't I pleasantly surprised when I saw just how many were within a 15 minute radius of each other.

I have never really been an antiquing kind of girl. I've done some yard sales and flea markets. But having a house has awaken this inner passion to buy things for the house. I went with specific items in mind and had SO. MUCH. FUN. I think I've found a new hobby.

Not only did I have a blast finding fun, unique things for my house, I also discovered just how cool Winston-Salem is. Jericho grew up there but my exposure to the city has mainly been to his mom's house and the mall. I am determined to go back and explore more of the downtown area and eat at some of the funky restaurants.

This is Cookies. I went in there twice. Cookie was an interesting lady.

Inside Cookies. It's what I always imagined the inside of my head to look like. I would have bought more had I been able to get to it.

This block of Reynolda Road was so quaint. I was able to walk to three of the stores. It was blazing hot and if I was eating carbs right now, this is where I would have stopped to eat Gelato while I shopped.

A sampling of a few of things I bought. I'm psyched. I can't wait to find new places to buy cool, used stuff.

My other blog

2010-06-30T10:24:00.000-04:00

For the past few months I've been working on a second blog. I still love this one just as much as my new one. There will be no favoritism. My love can be divided equally between the two. I've been dragging my feet because I never feel like it's "launch" ready. I will still continue to tweak it and add new things but I think it's finally at a stage to be publicized. Plus with it public, I'm forced to work on it.

I've been doing a lot of health and fitness research for a while now and decided it might be a fun idea to start putting it together in blog format. I also decided that it was time to give my food and recipe postings their own place to shine. I've always had the idea to do a food blog but never thought my stuff was substantial enough to necessitate a blog all to itself. So I'm combining the two ideas into one! I present:

[click on me]

I chose this particular title because I feel it captures my attitude towards food and dieting and exercise: that being healthy 100% of the time is boring. Good health is important but let's not get radical about it. I am by no means an authority on cooking or health and fitness but I'm striving to learn as much as I can. I know how it is to research topics and be completely overwhelmed with new information. I hope to be able to sift through for precious pearls on foody living so you don't have to!

How does that sound? Boring? Enthralling? Blasé? Meh. We'll see...

[Special shout out to Mary's design skills for assisting me in fine-tuning my new layout.]

Holga Love

2010-06-17T09:13:00.000-04:00

I *finally* got back my Holga pictures that I left at Wolf Camera. Remember how it took 2 months to get the ones back from Wal-Mart? These didn't take 2 months but they cost me an obscene amount of money to get them developed and put on a disc. This development trip cost me more money than the actual camera. Thanks for the heads up Wolf Camera. Needless to say, I will be investigating cheaper ways to develop my Holga pics. Regardless of how expensive they were, I love them. Here are a few from the two rolls. [The photos are actually square but Blogger doesn't like to reflect that. No matter how hard I try.]

[port at Cayman. that's our snorkel guide]

[beach club dock]

[Streets at Southpoint Mall]

[Carolina Beach]

[Pier at Carolina Beach]

New Things

2010-06-16T08:48:00.000-04:00

June has been a big month. Part of its bigness involved a move. Part of the move involved canceling our cable/internet service at the apartment and transferring it to the new house. Part of this transferring means waiting until Friday [the 18th] until we have cable/internet. This means that for three more days, I cannot update on all the newness. I would use my work computer [as I am right now] but there is too much and too many pictures to allow me to use up my precious work time. So sometime after Friday, I make a promise to my blog that I will post on the following topics [as well as any and all that I may be forgetting at this point in time]:

1) the move

2) the house

3) the new blog (!)

4) my awesome husband

In the meantime, I hope you all cheer on the USA soccer team in the World Cup. U-S-A! U-S-A!

What I learn

2010-05-24T10:06:00.002-04:00

While I'm still compiling cruise posts, I thought I would share something with the readers that may not know what I do for my job. Not that you asked, but I'm telling you anyway, mainly because I have this recent newspaper article and since it's published, it's not "confidential" for me to share with you.

Carrboro, N.C. — A Carrboro man and woman were charged Tuesday in connection with physical abuse that has left a 1-year-old girl blind, police said.
Christopher Ray McBride, 28, of 810 Old Fayetteville Road, was charged with felony child abuse and felony assault with injury.
The child's mother, Darleene April Fernandez, 26, of 810 Old Fayetteville Road, was charged as an accessory after the fact. Police Capt. Joel Booker said that Fernandez lived with McBride and knew about the abuse but didn't report it.
The girl, whose name wasn't released, was recently treated for serious injuries to the back of her head, base of her skull and spinal cord, Booker said. She also had older injuries.
[continue reading here]

The attorney I work for represents Social Services for the two counties in our district. All of our cases deal with children in the foster care system. For the above case, we have the baby in custody of Social Services. Soon we'll go to court to have the juvenile adjudicated and [hopefully] have the judge shoot fire and brimstone at these parents. There is something very different about DSS court. I've only been in a handful of civil and criminal cases [and seen a lot on T.V....] but I've never seen a judge talk to defendants [or in our case, parents] in the way of our DSS court judges. They are the same district court judges that hear all of the rest of the district's cases. But there is something about DSS court. And I think I've finally narrowed down what it is.

These past two weeks that I've been in court, there was a new person sitting near me that isn't usually in DSS court. We have the same attorneys and social workers that come every week so the new faces stand out. Two weeks ago in one county, there was a young man sitting behind me the whole day [preventing me from checking email or browsing Facebook during court.] He didn't get up for a case. No one spoke to him. Finally, at the end of the day's hearings, one of the bailiffs came over and asked him how he liked the court day. Turns out he was a law student at UNC there to observe. He told the bailiff that it was a little slow and he knows that this isn't the kind of law he wants to practice. The bailiff said, "Yeah, it can be slow, but you don't get any more emotion than you do in DSS court."

The following week in a different county, a young woman was sitting in front of me that I didn't recognize. I noticed she came in with the judge and I later learned that she was his summer intern. She too sat and observed the hearings and at the end of the day, our bailiff asked her her opinion of the hearings. He told her that DSS court is his least favorite court but that today was a quiet day. Otherwise "it can get pretty heated in here."

Both bailiff's were absolutely correct in their observances of DSS court. Emotion. Every case we hear determines the fate of children and their parents. Parents cry and plead for their children to come home. Some do everything in their power to right the wrongs. Some succeed. Some fail. Some scream at the judge. Some sit there, cold with emotion; indifferent to the experience; indifferent to the damage they cause their child(ren). This emotion is never written on the faces of someone who stole a car, or got a DWI or wrote bad checks. This emotion is unique. It is found only in a parent who is losing the battle against their own demons. Demons that envelope their soul like a cancer, deadening the meaning to words that slip from their mouths: "I love my children".

Upon uttering this statement, one of our best judges will often ask them a question. This judge rarely yells, but he lectures. The parents hear these lectures for the first time, but we - those that work on these cases every week - hear the lectures on repeat. His followup question to them, which they rarely get right, is "What is the definition of love?" His answer: "Sacrifice." This simple definition explains so fully what love is and what it means to love someone. Love is nothing without an outward expression. To be ignorant of this and learn it for the first time is revelatory. But to know this and not be able to do it is anguish. And that anguish is why parents lose. Every person is capable of replacing that anguish with revelation, determination, ambition. That is when they begin to sacrifice.

To the law student and summer intern that observed what was to them a "slow" court room, you are at a loss. I hope they don't go into law because of paychecks or politics or sexy crime dramas. They will be sorely disappointed. I may only be an administrative push behind the DSS cases but I have learned more about life through these parents' and children's faces than I ever could working in medical malpractice or real estate. If ever there was a question that our world is suffering because of the deterioration of the family unit, come to court with me in our two little counties in North Carolina and see the evidence for yourself. I pray for these parents. And I pray for the children. I pray that they grow up with loving foster/adoptive parents and break out of being a social statistic. We have heard it through the General Authorities of our church- the fall of the family will cause the fall of our nation.

Cruise

2010-05-09T14:04:00.004-04:00

We are back. I don't have all of my photos in order yet and I am also not at the point where I want to sit in front of a computer to type out a post to summarize the trip. I just spent five straight days without using the phone or the computer and it was GLORIOUS. I'm coming back into technology in moderation. So here is a mini preview of some of our photos.

I already miss it.

Camera Crazy

2010-04-15T22:30:00.000-04:00

There are less than 3 weeks until our cruise. I am in planning mode. Actually, I've been in planning mode since January. I am officially in the list stage of planning mode. To-do list. To-bring list. To-buy list. Part of my to-bring list is a camera which is pretty standard. But when you're me, it's more complicated than that.

How MANY cameras should I bring? And which ones??

The list of possible combinations is as follows:

On our honeymoon, we brought two. This one and this one.

This was due mainly because I hate my current compact camera. It's about 4 years old [ancient!!] and the functions drive me crazy and the quality is subpar. Jericho has a more current but basic Canon that I use when I feel like throwing mine out the window.

The second camera to consider is this- the water-proof camera. We'll be snorkeling and swimming with stingrays so this is pretty much a given.

I also have my baby. My Canon SLR. Along with its two lenses.

And then there's this beaut. My Holga. Used for capturing pictures with one-of-a-kind vignetting and lighting affects. It wouldn't be the only camera I bring but could produce some pretty rad stuff from the trip. [Note: this camera is small, very light and plastic and cost me about $30 so I really don't care what happens to it.]

You can see my dilemma here. This is our one year anniversary trip. It will be filled with vivid, beautiful scenery [to include ourselves]. I don't want to miss capturing everything at its digital fullness, so I lean toward the SLR. But I don't want to carry around a big camera everywhere we go or risk getting it stolen or broken. If I bring something smaller, I risk getting sucky and more basic pictures but it's easier to tote around.

The other down side to bringing the SLR is that when I bring this somewhere, most of my experience is seen through the camera lens. I take more time to see/do things and sometimes ignore people [i.e. Jericho]. Therefore, I offer up this compromise.

If I bring this, I could capture high quality pictures while also having something small and easy to carry around and operate. [And when I say "bring" I mean buy then bring.] In conclusion, "camera" should apparently be added to all three of my lists:

1. To-bring: camera
2. To-do: convince J that it's the best plan of action to buy the new Canon compact
3. To-buy: buy new camera

On second thought, I think I'll switch the order of #2 and #3.

This is why you're fat

2010-04-14T11:52:00.002-04:00

Why does that bread look so crusty, you ask?? It's because it's not bread. It's FRIED FREAKING CHICKEN! Yes America. This is how fat we are. A normal bun of bread just won't do anymore. [Mind you, the buns are mostly fake, refined ingredients but nonetheless, they didn't deep fry the buns]. The commercial on television is particularly exciting. They show consumers rejoicing their heart-attack-prone-hearts out over this new "anticipated" sandwich. Apparently, someone has been writing in to KFC complaining about the burden of the bun and the idea of replacing the sliced bread with sliced fried chicken is the greatest thing since sliced... well, nevermind. Maybe it was all those Atkins nuts out there. But even then, they couldn't have the fried option. For those more health-conscious, they do offer a grilled chicken option instead of the fillet. Thank you, I feel much better.

For the commercial and nutritional information: go here.

This is Huge

2010-04-11T15:40:00.002-04:00

There are a few [or many] things that men don't understand about women. One is the ability to lay motionless by the pool for hours. Another is the joy we get from shopping. For me it's been compounding factors lately: really awesome new spring lines and the fact that I actually like the way I look in clothes now. I basically have to sit on my hands to keep from internet shopping. The following are among the few new clothes purchases of late. For those that don't know me well, don't understand the hugeness of these purchases. For those of you that do. This. Is. Huge.

They're pink! How proud are you?!?

For at least ten years, I hardly owned a single thing that was pink. As a tomboy child, pink was the antithesis of everything that being a tomboy stood for. Even after I grew out of the tomboy stage, I guess the aversion to pink just stuck. Not only that, but it really looked horrible on me. Once in college, my roommates made me try on something pink so they could see for themselves. It was confirmed and I went on in my anti-pink ways. Recently, I discovered that pink is good for something for someone with my complexion- it makes me look awesomely tan. So I tried a few pink suits this season and was giddy with my tanness. The rest kind of rolled from there. I have broken my war against pink. I don't *love* it yet. I still plan on buying my [one day] daughters yellow and purple outfits so they don't look like I hose them down with pepto bismal every morning. But I'm easing up just a bit. And that is huge.

Dream Bag

2010-04-07T09:52:00.000-04:00

Sometimes when I get bored, I dream. In my dreams, I'm super creative and accomplish all these fantastically cool endeavors like taking a pottery class and being a weekend mountain biker and writing books by the dozen. I also have this pretend world where I'm this stellar, yet humble, photographer with subtle and understated artistic abilities. "Why thank you. [Blush] No, I'm not a photographer. It's just a hobby. My creative energy is so copious, it radiates from me without even really trying." And when I'm this photographer, I have this bag.

I carry it around town on my serene, solitary photo shoots. [And by "town" I mean, the quaint, funky town with fences and fruits stands where I will, of course, be living when I'm this photographer/writer/biker/hiker/explorer]. It perfectly fits my novels and creative-thoughts notebooks and granola in addition to all my photo equipment.

Isn't it perfect? My little make-believe world is only complete if I have this camera bag. Until that time, I'm still just some random twenty-something with a wannabe hobby. And no cool green camera bag.

Spreadable Hazelnuts

2010-04-05T08:46:00.001-04:00

Yesterday, I baked. I haven't baked anything since Christmas. I was going through withdrawals. Being in diet-mode all year so far, I haven't really wanted to bake up a storm of goodies I can't eat. [I still can't eat the banana bread, but Jericho can]. I was cleaning out my freezer and realized I still had some frozen bananas stashed away for eventual banana bread. I've been making the same recipe for years and decided maybe I should try something different. I found a recipe from RecipeGirl.com that includes Nutella. Who doesn't love Nutella? My new favorite thing about Nutella is this new commercial with the mom creating tasty, "nutritious" breakfasts for her kids by giving them Nutella to put on their toast. They are actually hawking Nutella as a way to get your kids to eat a healthy breakfast. Seriously? It's like telling your kids to put a tomato on their double cheeseburger to get their vegetables. It amuses me every time. "Hey kids! Come eat liquid hazelnut chocolate for breakfast and you'll be so much healthier than those loser kids that eat fruit and oatmeal!"

Behold: this is my Nutella swirled banana bread. I made two loaves. One for Jericho for his lunches and one to bring to work. I put on no pretenses that my bread is healthy. Banana- good. Hazelnuts- good. Sugar, HFCS, butter, white flour- not good. But put it all together and it's fantastic!!

Mulling things over- Part 1

2010-03-30T16:56:00.003-04:00

Work has been slow.

I don't like being a sedentary being, either physically or mentally. [Aligning this text in the center is the craziest word processing I've done today]. My thoughts wonder to places unrelated to any important tasks at hand. Because I don't have any.

During my day today, my thoughts have been as follows [to name a few]:

I threw away 3 perfectly good paperclips out of the paperclip tray in the copy room. I'm a paperclip snob. Wha? Truly. I am. I throw away the ones that are stretched out. And the annoying ones with the colored plastic shells. And I redo the ones that someone has put on the paper incorrectly. Yes, there is an incorrect way to fasten a paperclip.

It's 68 degrees today and sunny. I refuse to spend the rest of the sunny days of my life behind a desk.

I hate dieting. Someone made microwave popcorn in the office. Artificial butter fragrance permeated my office like a freakin tidal wave. I hate dieting.

I'm considering starting a food blog. I miss cooking. Jericho misses it too. Plus, with this much time to think of non-work thinks, I may as well do something to contribute to humanity. Why not write a food blog? Too cliche? Maybe I'll call it "Mediocre Cooking: for those that really just don't care that much".

I'm wearing khakis I haven't been able to wear in 3 years. I love dieting.

Tonight is book club and can't wait to have a new book to read. I'm considering finding downloadable books so I can read them at work. I'm also considering sneaking out the back door and reading outside to test how long it takes anyone to figure out that I'm gone.

I have no idea if I'm supposed to bring a beach towel on my cruise.

I want a new compact digital camera. My mission: convince husband that I need two new dresses and a new camera for the cruise. Wish me luck.

Jericho has been working in town for the whole of 2010 thus far. It's fantastically more fun. If he starts traveling again, I'm considering getting a therapist. And lots of seasons of TV shows on DVD.

My passport came yesterday. I am officially one step closer to being "one who travels." My picture is atrocious. Tonight, I'm going to the mall to find an uber-cute passport holder in the hopes it will distract from the uncuteness that is my picture.

I want a pair of cowboy boots. Namely this pair. But hesitate because I don't think I have the fashion moxie.

I hate dieting.

Wal-Mart Photo Lab: Strike 2

2010-03-23T21:14:00.006-04:00

Remember that time it snowed and I took a bunch of pictures with my cool new Holga camera? Yeah, neither does Wal-Mart. Dropped off my film on February 5, 2010. Last week was my 112th phone call with the Wal-Mart photo lab about where the blazes my pictures were. They're still at the Fuji lab and will be until the first week in April. At least this phone call ended with, "Oh, and they'll be free." Dang straight.

So I've had this draft post sitting in my queue for almost two months anxiously awaiting the addition of my cool Holga pictures. As you can see, there are no Holga pictures on this post. Instead, I'm going to leave you with what our "house" currently looks like. Jericho drives right by our home site every day on his way home from work so he's stopping several times a week to check on the progress. And take pictures. [So I can make an video flip book at the end, preferably set to the music of an uppity saloon piano.]

Kristen

2010-03-21T00:15:00.000-04:00

Today Jericho and I made a new friend. We stopped for a quick lunch at Chick-Fila while out on our Saturday errands. Upon receiving our food and sitting down at a table not far from the counter, a girl about 6 years old walked over and climbed up into a chair at our table. I initially thought she was lost, but turns out, she wasn't.

"Hi. Are you going to eat lunch with us today?"
"Yes!"
"Great! What's your name?"
"Kristen.What's yours?"
"Kelley. What did you get for lunch?"
"Chicken nuggets and fruit and juice!"
"Awesome! I LOVE chicken nuggets!"

Jericho comes back from getting napkins and finds our new friend, Kristen, at our table with me. I introduce them, "Kristen, this is Jericho. Jericho, this is Kristen, she's going to be eating lunch with us today."

"Cool. Hi."
"Hi."

I am finding this a little strange but highly amusing and fun. I look around and assume that her dad is the man paying at the counter. He soon figures out where she is and comes over and very quickly apologizes for his daughter. I say it's no big deal and laugh it off. She leaves with her dad to go eat with the rest of their family. About 3 minutes later, Kristen comes back.

"How come you're not eating with your family?"
"I want to eat here."

About one minute later, dad comes back to take her to the family table.

"Bye Kristen. It was nice to meet you!"
"Bye!!" Walking away and waving...

"That was fun." After Kristen left, Jericho and I just laughed at this completely friendly and beautiful little girl. It was so refreshing to be reminded how amiability comes so effortlessly to children. I told Jericho that I wished that everyone could have the uninhibited friendliness that kids have and I hoped that we teach our children how to be that polite and friendly to everyone they meet. Little Kristen taught us a lesson today without even realizing it. I thought of this experience throughout the rest of the day and how uplifted I felt from such a small experience. I hope her parents truly appreciate the beauty of their little girl.

WalMart vs. United States Government

2010-03-03T12:21:00.001-05:00

Jericho and I will be applying for our passports on Friday morning. Yay!!! Part of the requisite materials are the passport photos. While at the Wal-Mart photo center recently, we saw a big picture of a happy blond lady holding her passport and two photos with the words inset "Get passport photos here!" Fabulous! I had to pick up some pictures so we went by to get our pretty, smiley passport photos taken.

Upon asking Barb (or whatever her name was) that we would like passport photos, she looked at me, then back at Jericho, then me again and furrowed her brow like I'd just asked her to lick the bottom of my shoe. "You can't wear that shirt." I was wearing a black t-shirt with a red "STATE" written across the chest. "And YOU [Jericho] can't wear that." He was wearing a gray hoodie, which he intended on removing for the picture, and he promptly informed Barb as such. After deliberating what to do about my printed t-shirt situation (like it was the biggest problem she'd encountered in her Wal-Mart career) I asked if it would be okay to just turn it inside out. Genius!

I go to the restroom to flip around my shirt. I come back and Barb is taking Jericho's picture and freaking out about his white shirt collar that is peaking out from under his plain gray t-shirt. Finally after multiple adjustments to his shirt, his picture is taken. Then it's my turn. "Push your hair behind your ears. Your ears have to be showing." My response: "Why? SHE [the pretty lady in the advert] isn't showing her ears!" Fine. I'll look like a dweeb who flattens my hair behind my ears for my passport photo. Just take the picture. [Sidenote of a little self-praise: I have an apparently rare ability to take very normal driver's license pictures. In fact, I have received multiple compliments on my various ID pictures. This photo ID experience is clearly not shaping up to continue this trend.]

So there I sit, flat back hair, both ears showing proudly, inside out t-shirt. I am ready for the picture and give the smile I hope to be seen by all the countries I'll visit over the next 10 years. "Don't smile." WTH lady!! My response again: "Then why is the pretty girl in this picture smiling??" I understand that the passport photo is for an official government issued document with official rules but really, when I take this somewhere, people aren't going to think it's me because I generally don't go around with flat hair and looking pissed off at the world because I'm a happy person and I SMILE!!! They are going to take me off in handcuffs because the girl in my photo is angry and ugly and doesn't know how to put her clothes on properly. She assured me that everyone's passport photo is bad anyway and that each one of these oppositions that I am having to her passport photo process is an issue that she has encountered before and that if said requirement is not followed, the gov'ment will not use those photos.

Her last comment to me after taking the final picture, "Yeah, you're not going to like this picture." She was just a big, giant ray of sunshine in my day.

Part of the reason I was so shocked by Barb's passport photo requirements is because, like any good American, I did my research before going to take our pictures. On the US Government website for information on your passport, here is the list of requirements for your photo:

2 Identical photos
In color
2 x 2 inches in size
Taken within the past 6 months, showing current appearance
Full face, front view with a plain white or off-white background
Between 1 inch and 1 3/8 inches from the bottom of the chin to the top of the head
Taken in normal street attire:

Uniforms should not be worn in photographs except religious attire that is worn daily
Do not wear a hat or headgear that obscures the hair or hairline
If you normally wear prescription glasses, a hearing device, wig or similar articles, they should be worn for your picture
Dark glasses or nonprescription glasses with tinted lenses are not acceptable unless you need them for medical reasons (a medical certificate may be required)

Nothing that she made us do is on this list. NOTHING. According to the government of the United States of America, we were in no violation of any passport photo guideline. But, according to Barb McDemanding, this was not so. I hate going somewhere looking like I don't know what is required of me. I like being prepared. I like having my research done. Therefore, I was not happy that Barb was so quick to instruct me on my erroneous passport photo expectations.

And it was $15 for both Jericho and me. How come they can print off a 5x7 print of your dog for 10 cents but they charge you $15 to get a couple 2x2 prints of just your face? If there is an issue with our photos when we go apply on Friday, so help me, I will be demanding a refund for my $15 pictures. And maybe sue her for pain and suffering.

Clearly this is further evidence that Wal-Mart thinks of themselves as more powerful than the US government. Next, I expect they'll take on God Himself.

62 days

2010-03-02T16:06:00.000-05:00

In the spirit of a rainy day and yet another forecast for frikkin snow, I would like to remind myself (through pictures) of where I'll be in 62 days.

Right now, I am here:

In 62 days, I will be here:

and here

In 64 days, I will be here:

In 65 days, I will be here:

And in 66 days, I will be here again:

But for now, I am still here:

After

2010-02-20T22:23:00.000-05:00

Victory! I did it. Here it is. I cut about 6 inches off of my hair. 6 inches doesn't seem like a lot, especially if you were to see the pile of hair that was left on the salon floor. I love the new hair cut. It's lighter and easier and I feel like I've made a huge step in my personal growth. So far, I have no regrets... [sorry about the lame-o picture. It was this or a Myspace pseudo-sexy self-portrait in the bathroom mirror. And thankfully, I'm not one of those people.]

I didn't take a "before" picture. But in case you haven't seen me recently or remember what my hair looks like, it looked something like this:

2010 Progress Report: No. 1

2010-02-17T14:15:00.000-05:00

I debated whether or not I would blog about this and if I did, when I would do it. But here it goes anyway: Ladies and gentleman, since the first of the year, I have lost 30 pounds. That's 3-0. 10 pounds, 3 times. I have lost more pounds than years I am old. I have lost a months worth of pounds. [It was actually 29.5 lbs and Jericho told me I wasn't allowed to round up but I don't care. It's close enough. Once I cut my hair, I'm sure it'll drop another 2 lbs.]

I wrote out this huge testimonial of my life-long struggles with health goals. But it sounded way too much like my admission video to The Biggest Loser and it was really boring and sad. And that's not how I feel right now. I was ready to make some changes so I picked a diet that was crazy, insanely strict.* I went on a hormonal supplement to boost along the process. And I kicked that diet's trash. All of my clothes are too big. My wedding rings fall off whenever I'm somewhere cooler than room temperature. I have visible cheekbones [in my face]. And I have a fantastically awesome husband that made the process so much easier. [Like telling me how gross his cheesecake was and that I should be grateful I didn't have to eat it.]

I still have a ways to go since this is a work in progress and will continue on for the rest of my life. But I made a goal at the start of this year, and I killed it. Bam. 30 freaking pounds. I want to call up my last doctor that basically said I couldn't do this and tell them they need to pick a different profession. Hack.

It's only the middle of February and so far this year I have bought a house, planned [and almost] paid for my one year anniversary trip with Jericho, and lost 30 pounds. Other goals are currently pending but so far, things are looking pretty swell for 2010.

*For anyone that is curious about what this diet was and how I did it, email me. It's different, strict, and not for the wimpy or faint of heart.*

Change is good?

2010-02-14T09:56:00.000-05:00

I have a decision to make. It's huge. Crazy huge. And I need some help.

SHOULD I CUT MY HAIR???

Not just a trim and thinning out like I normally do. This last time I got my hair did, I got highlights. And it was super exciting. This time, I want to cut it. I mean really cut it. I'm serious. I think. I am not looking to cut it above my shoulder so it wouldn't be THAT short. But still, my hair is two feet long, it could use a good chop.

So. What do I do? For the past 5 years (the approximate duration that I started actually doing my hair), any public mention of cutting/trimming my hair brought on voluminous protests. It makes me feel like Jo March in that part in Little Women when she cuts her hair off to sell and Amy, the youngest, proclaims in shock, "Jo!! Your one beauty!" There have been several occasions where random strangers (women of course) comment on my hair, complement or ask me about what products I use. I find it flattering and kinda fun, mainly because I felt so hair-style-retarded for the majority of my life. I think the years of tom-boy short hair have made me afraid of not having long hair. I have had long hair for a really long time and in roughly the same style.

But, putting aside my long-hair dependence complex, let's look at the basic pros and cons of this decision.

Reasons for getting rid of the long hair:

It takes FOREVER to do anything to it (straight, curly, wash, comb, etc)
Is it juvenile? I feel like it's a little juvenile...
It takes over approximately 1/3 of our bed. Poor Jericho. If I lay down wrong or sit wrong or close the car door too soon, it gets caught and I'm held hostage by my hair.
I don't feel very "in style"
Change is good
If I want to keep highlighting it, it will be cheaper if it's shorter
Sometimes I feel like Guinevere or some other medieval maiden
It allows me to be too lazy sometimes

Problems with cutting my hair:

We've grown emotionally attached
I have thick, wavy hair and it will take a really great hair stylist to make a shorter style look good
I'm not entirely sure what I want it to look like once it's cut. My style options are limited and not everything I like is doable for my hair
I feel cliche cutting my hair post-marriage, like I'm preparing for "mom-hair"
At times, long hair can be easy (aka "lazy")
I don't have to work for "beachy curls" when I'm at the beach
Up-dos are easier with long hair. Not that I ever have up-dos, but if I needed to, I'd like to have the option.
I often hear from the stylist- not many people can wear long hair, so those that can, should.

This is a serious problem. I need all the help I can get. Should I cut my hair? If so, any suggestions on styles? This is my official year for making huge changes. It's time to change the hair!!

Snow!

2010-01-31T20:19:00.002-05:00

One of the most sad yet delightful characteristics of North Carolina is its ability to have full on anxiety attack every time "winter weather" strikes. Having lived in Idaho for four winters, I laugh at such weather as well as those that fall victim to the panic. The snow/ice combo shut down most of everything on Saturday. Jericho and I were stuck in the apartment all day, save for a drive to the gym (50 yards away). I didn't want to mess up my running shoes.

Church was cancelled today and therefore another full day stuck in the apartment. I decided to do one of my favorite past times from the snowy days in Idaho: Photo Field Trip. I took Jericho as my driver in his 4-wheel drive truck and went out to do a little exploring. Most of the pictures I took were with my new film camera so I don't have those yet. But I did take along my digital since 12 frames wasn't going do it for my field trip.

Below are a few that I took with the digital. Also evidence why my husband is the cutest boy ever. I was walking around taking pictures with my film when I turned around and found Jericho doing this:

Snowman: stage one

Snowman: almost done

Snowman: fin!

Photographic Preservation

2010-01-27T09:00:00.003-05:00

I like taking pictures. I like being able to freeze a moment and show that moment in a way that was unknown to you until you saw it with the intent on taking its picture. I think objects in pictures are like people. When you know someone is taking your picture, you change. You smile. Or try to smile. You move your body. Adjust. Re-adjust. Objects are the same way. I believe that an object is just an object until you take its picture. You have captured a moment and suddenly the subject has a story. It has meaning. Its stillness is what makes it alive. This paradox is what makes photography so thrilling.

The life in pictures is one of the reasons I am so critical of my own photography. I hate any picture that I take that looks like a postcard instead of what my eye saw or what I felt at that very moment. A building is a building is a building. But when you take its picture, you are giving it a chance to pose. To change. To make itself look thinner, the light shine brighter, even maybe that it has a better personality than is really showing on the outside. You want to capture that moment when your object posed for you.

I firmly believe that the integrity of a photograph is captured the moment the shutter closes. The integrity gives the photograph its soul. And without that soul, your photograph is empty, lifeless. The photograph is created through a camera and the emotions of the photographer, not a computer. There are many modern avenues by which to give your photograph a false sense of soul. You can make your skies bluer. Make someone's eyes greener. Make stars twinkle. Add objects/people that weren't in the initial shot. But this is not integrity.

This attitude is one that I have been struggling with since the beginning of the digital photography age. I resisted the digital change for quite some time. It never felt as "real" to me as film. I began my photography in middle school learning on a manual Minolta. We learned about composition, f-stop, shutter speed, focus and light. We learned to take a picture with 100% responsibility for how that picture turned out. We spent hours developing film and photographs in a dark room and learned to love the smell of developer chemicals because it reminded us that we were creating these images with our own hands.

The more I study photography, the more excited I get with the aspirations of becoming a better photographer but am also saddened by the amount of artificial work that is now included and expected out of "good" photography. Digital photography itself is a fantastic revolution. It has brought the ability to take really great pictures much closer to mediocre photographers all over. But just as me behind the wheel of a Maserati may be super sexy, it doesn't make me a good drive, the average person behind the lens of 2 grand digital camera doesn't make them an artist. There is still much to be learned, and that learning is not done in front of a computer. The emotional aspects of a photograph are lost when there is evidence of how much it has changed. That object or that person or that moment is no longer yours, but has been masked and diluted into something flat and artificial.

For this reason, I was fantastically excited when I saw my dear friend Laura's camera. I researched all about this camera and bought myself one for Christmas. It's a 120 format film camera. It's called a Holga (read the reviews). I have yet to take any photographs with it, mainly because I'm so used to digital photography that the 16 frame limit makes me a little nervous. I have to choose my images more carefully instead of snapping 30 identical pictures of one flower. Also, I wouldn't be able to show you any photos at this point anyway since I don't have a scanner. But stay tuned as I'm really jazzed about using this camera. It brings photography back to where it should be (for me anyway) instead of mindlessly sitting in front of a computer editing photos. Computers give me headaches. I'd rather get a headache from taking pictures in the sun all day.

I would like to end this really long opinion piece with a disclaimer. I do not hate digital photography. I love the ease and practicality of digital photography. And I'm in love with my digital Canon SLR. I do not hate the ability to touch up a picture. But I think it should be restricted to minimal functions like black-n-white or cropping or red-eye removal and not be used as a basis for artistic ability (unless you are creating blatantly digital designs, that's okay). So if I've offended anyone, that's fine. You can opine on your own blog too.

(http://gary-campbell.com/holga.html)

The New 'Hood

2010-01-25T16:31:00.002-05:00

I'm glad one of my New Year's resolutions wasn't to blog more. Failure!

One resolution that we accomplished within the first week of the year was finding a house! We told our stellar Realtor, Trevor, that we wanted to start physically looking at houses after the first of the year. (For the record, we had been looking online and doing price comparisons for nearly six months prior to this point so we had a pretty good idea what we were looking for and where). We got online and searched and found a neighborhood that was still in development in Mebane, NC. For those of you that live outside of North Carolina, the correct pronunciation of the city name is me (as the me from memory) + bin (as in trash). It has always ranked my list of the silliest names in North Carolina. And now we're going to live there.

One Saturday, Jericho and I and Realtor Trevor went down to the neighborhood and met with the agent on duty. Her name is Terri. She has two dogs. And she's really nice. We toured some model homes and some homes in progress. Jericho and I had previously looked at all of the floor plans that they had to offer and were pretty sold on one in particular. The Augusta. I took it as a personal sign since I was born in August. It had everything we needed and was the perfect layout. It looks like this (more or less):

We spent Saturday afternoon with Terri talking about options for the house, financing, costs, numbers, numbers, and more numbers. This was where I sat back and fantasized about my colors and decorations and wall paper patterns while Jericho and Trevor asked all the technical number-questions. Jericho had done months worth of research on mortgage rates and loans and, in combination with Trevor's fantastic support, they were asking all kinds of questions. Any time Jericho wants to take over the number train, fine by me. Just tell me where to sign. It's a blessing of having complete and never-wavering faith in my husband's ability to make responsible financial decisions. And since numbers and money cause me to have an anxiety attack, it really is the best option.

When we left on Saturday night, we had an estimate for what the house was going to cost. And it was a good number. The detail that was still up in the air was whether or not we'd qualify for the $8,000 tax credit. Sunday morning, we got an email saying we were in for the tax credit. Score!! The neighborhood office didn't open until 1:00 but we got there as soon as we could and didn't leave until nearly 8:00 that night. We spent the entire day hashing out offers and pricing and picking out cabinet colors and carpeting. In the end, we got everything we wanted. Bam!! We got a house in 4 days!! We have to chill a little on the celebration since we won't actually be in the house until June or July. Now we just wait and make lists. Lists of what we need to do before the house is built, what to buy before we get in the house, what we'll need after we get in the house, our IKEA shopping trip (which I'm totally stoked about), and everything we can possibly think of to do from now until June. Since Jericho is the main financial engineer with this, my main goal is to settle on my color scheme for the rooms, which is tough. So if anyone can offer any kind of interior decoration advice, I would truly appreciate it!

In the end, this is almost exactly what our house will look like (except we won't have trees in the backyard yet, just someone else's backyard):

The Blue Hoodie

2010-01-12T16:30:00.000-05:00

Having been with Jericho for more than three years, I am nearly tapped out on all my favorite anecdotes from my life. All of the important ones anyway. I know there are a few that are still locked in my memory but I intend to keep them that way. But for the most part, anything that is interesting and often not quite so interesting has been shared with Jericho. Luckily, most men don't always have the stellar memories that we women have, so I get to tell my stories multiple times and pretend like I'm telling it for the first time.

I like telling my stories and I like talking. I'm egotistical. So what? What blogger isn't marginally egotistical? Therefore, I'm going to start telling them here.

The other day, Jericho had a pseudo-intervention with me regarding a problem of mine. My hoodies. My hoodies occupy the majority of both of our door hooks. "Do you even wear all of these?" Well, no, but I can't just throw them out. He picked them up, one by one, and asked if I wanted to keep them. Ricks College- yes, it's nostalgic. White UNC- yes, it's my favorite. White UNC covered in stains- yes, good gym hoodie. He proceeded in this manner until we were able to wean away two hoodies. A small success for the declutterer that is my husband.

There is one hoodie that hangs on a different door. It is big and comfy and without a doubt the grossest article of clothing I own. The cuffs show the wear of a good dog chewing, and I've never owned a dog. It's blue, mostly. For more years than I can recall, it has been functioning as my "sleep hoodie". Meaning I wear it around the house, usually with my pajamas. Which means I often cook in it, usually without an apron. It really can't get much worse. True story, yesterday I was cutting a cabbage in half and the left sleeve got caught between the knife and cabbage. The slice in the cuff fits in well to its tattered state.

The significance of this hoodie originated as much more than a sleep hoodie. I bought it from Gap in roughly the spring of 2000. I know this because I recall the very first time I wore it. I was at Ashley Henderson's house and we were working on our Laurel Project of decorating for a big church dance (yes, it turned out awesome). In my teenage years, I was always the girl running to catch up with everything- people, conversations, trends. In buying my first fashion hoodie, I was achieving something. I felt so at ease wearing my new hoodie that made me so cool.

By the time I arrived at my friend's house after school, the day had warmed up significantly. I went to remove the now unnecessary hoodie. Little did I know, the super cute blue hoodie had left its super cute blue ink all over the light shirt I was wearing underneath. Crap. My friend had air conditioning in the house. It shouldn't be too bad. I'll just roll up my sleeves if it's too warm. Later on, it was too warm. Cursing myself over my inner awkward struggle, I decided to push the sleeves up for some release, only to discover that the blue had also made a transfer to my skin. I was a smurf. My awkwardness doubled. It was fortunate that I knew this girl well or else I would have been mortified. I was blue. My shirt. My arms. My hands. Blue! I don't think she ever noticed because I spent the rest of the afternoon sweltering in my new hoodie, hiding my grossly deformed coloring.

As expected, Jericho has been told the story of the blue hoodie. If ever there is a time when I buy a new piece of clothing and immediately throw it in the wash and Jericho questions, I only have to say, "Blue hoodie!!" And the argument is over.

Goals for 2010

2009-12-29T17:01:00.000-05:00

I don't like goals, aspirations, quests or pretty much anything where failure is one of the outcomes. I also don't like failure. Even when I set goals, they are rarely ever written down. If they don't work out, the failure is now etched in stone in my planner/mirror post-it/soul for me to always remember. I prefer the amorphous goals that are just floating around in my head. Then when they work out, it's like, "Oh yeah. I guess I was working on that. Bravo to me and my mad achievements."

I know that I am able to accomplish written goals. I do it every time I go to the grocery store. So this year, I have decided to publicly list (some) of my goals for 2010. I know some of them may seem obvious but I feel mighty proud when I can check something off a list.

Do
Go on a one-year anniversary trip
Take a class in something
~~Buy a house~~ Find a house to let the bank buy for us
Attend my 10-year high school reunion
Put laundry away
Get a new laptop
Play more basketball
Play more soccer
Be confident
Get a passport
Visit Vegas
Visit Utah
Visit Morocco (more of a "hope")

Do Not
Eat french fries. Ever.
Get on Facebook while at work
Laugh at the cheerleaders that have gotten fat since high school
Hit snooze
Be angry
Eat out as often
Be anti-social
Avoid my dentist bill (even though I HATE them)
Hate people
Be afraid

I will keep the blog posted on my progress on these goals. Maybe. How about I let you know when they go well. But if you ask me about such-and-such goal and I haven't done it yet, then I'll probably cry. And then next year's list will have to include "Suck it up and stop crying."

Christmas Goodness

2009-12-14T10:36:00.000-05:00

Every year I face a dilemma of Christmas at work. I work with x-number of people. I socialize with some more than others. Who do I get gifts for? Who is giving me a gift this year? Do I get everyone the same thing? Is someone going to feel obligated to get me a gift just because I gave them one? Wha! Eh! Meh?! Mrgh. More Christmas stress! Last year at Christmas I was newbie at work. I didn't know the Christmas exchange procedure so I was by default excused from any Christmas present blunder. But this year, I don't have the excuse of being "new". Through careful consideration and input from coworkers, I found a solution. I am making baked goods. I will load up the break room table with Christmas goodies, send out a super-personal email wishing everyone a "Merry Christmas", and satisfy the work gift exchange requirement. After extensive research, I settled on the following recipes. (I'm sorry for another food post. My social life lacks in substance right now). And if you're wondering why I have papers hanging from the cabinets in my kitchen, it is my alternative to a cook book holder. I am typically printing off recipes from the internet plus I have limited counter space. This seemed like an easy way to display my recipe as I'm cooking without it getting in the way and not accidentally laying it on a pile of cooking residue (which is most often the case). Tada!

The recipes were fun to make. If you don't like egg nog, you probably won't like the fudge. But it's a pretty small amount of egg nog and not too overpowering. It's actually very addicting. I've never made fudge before so I was happy with how this turned out. It was MUCH easier than I was anticipating! Highly recommend it, especially if you like egg nog.

The biscotti was more of a project but still relatively easy. The only thing I changed was I dipped in regular chocolate instead of white chocolate since I already had the white chocolate based fudge. The next time I will probably make the pieces wider. This is a very pretty dessert and it gives off an impression of something much fancier than it actually is.

The brownies. Meh. They're okay. They are very minty and chocolatey, which I love. But they are a little more cakey and dry than I expected. I like the idea of using the Andes mints but next time, I'll either bake less time or use a different brownie base.

Eggnog Fudge

2 cups granulated sugar
1/2 cup butter
3/4 cup dairy eggnog
10.5 ounces white chocolate bars, chopped into small pieces
1/2 tsp freshly grated nutmeg, plus a little more for the top of the fudge
One 7 ounce jar marshmallow creme
1 tsp rum extract

1. Line an 8 or 9-inch square pan with foil and let it hang over the sides. Butter the foil.

2. In a heavy, 3-quart saucepan combine sugar, butter and eggnog. Bring to a rolling boil, stirring constantly. Continue boiling 8 to 10 minutes over medium heat or until a candy thermometer reaches 234°F, stirring constantly to prevent scorching. Remove from heat.

3. Using a wooden spoon, work quickly to stir in chopped white chocolate and nutmeg until chocolate is melted and smooth. Stir in marshmallow creme and rum extract. Beat until well blended and then pour into prepared pan. Sprinkle a little freshly ground nutmeg on top. Let stand at room temperature until cooled. Refrigerate if you’d like to speed up the process.

4. When completely cool, cut into squares. Store in a covered container.
Yield: 30 to 40 pieces

Candy Cane Biscotti

2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour

1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
8 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened
1/2 cup granulated sugar
3 large eggs
2/3 cup finely crushed peppermint candy canes
14 ounces fine quality white chocolate, melted
extra crushed candy canes to sprinkle on top

1. Preheat oven to 350˚.
2. In a medium bowl, whisk together flour, baking powder and salt.

3. In a large mixing bowl, beat together butter and sugar. Add eggs, one at a time, mixing well after each. Add dry ingredients and mix until combined - stir in crushed candy.

4. Evenly divide dough into 4 pieces on a lightly floured surface. Shape each piece into 9" x 1 1/2" round log. Place logs 3 inches apart onto parchment-lined baking sheet.

5. Bake until tops are cracked and ends just start to turn light brown, about 18 to 20 minutes. Remove from oven and reduce temperature to 325. Cool logs 10 minutes on cookie sheet.

6. Cut each log diagonally into 1/2" slices with sharp serrated knife. (Discard ends, if you want.) Arrange pieces standing up back onto the baking sheet.

7. Bake until cookies are light golden brown and crisp on both sides, about 12 to 15 minutes. The centers may still be a little soft, but will firm up as they cool. Place onto cool rack and cool completely.

8. Dip half of each biscotti into melted chocolate - shake off excess. Immediately sprinkle with additional crushed candy canes and set on a parchment or wax paper lined baking sheet until the chocolate has set.

Make about 4 dozen.

Andes Brownies

1 cup butter
2 cups sugar (white)
4 eggs
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 cup all purpose flour
½ cup cocoa
½ teaspoon salt
about 1/4 cup (or however much you please, really) of chopped Andes mints

An additional package of whole Andes mints. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Grease 9 x 13 pan. Melt butter in saucepan over low heat. Once melted remove from heat and add sugar, vanilla, and eggs. Blend together. In separate bowl, mix together flour, cocoa, and salt. Add dry mixture to the wet and mix well. Add chopped Andes mints. Pour into greased pan and bake for 35-40 minutes.

RIGHT when the brownies come out of the oven, layer the top with the whole package of Andes mints (or however many it takes to cover the surface). Let them stand for a minute or two, until they are smooth enough to spread. Using a frosting spatula or a flat knife, spread the melted Andes mints evenly over the brownie to cover. Cool, cut and enjoy.

Chili Time

2009-12-07T22:14:00.004-05:00

Growing up, my mom made chili every winter. Or fall. Not really sure if it had any kind of significance to the time-frame but nonetheless, she made chili pretty regularly. And it was great fun. When I went off to school in Idaho, I decided my tradition would be to make chili on the first day it snowed. Being back in NC, I can't keep with this tradition since it doesn't snow much. This weekend, one that was particularly rainy and cold, Jericho and I had my parents over for lunch and I decided to make chili! I was crunched on time so instead of making the recipe that I usually use, I went for a variation that was a bit quicker. After much research I settled on this recipe that apparently is served at this restaurant. I changed it a little since it's chili and pretty hard to mess up and you can do whatever you want with it. I absolutely loved how it turned out. Just enough spice. Just enough meat. Just enough beans. After our second meal of the chili, Jericho told me that I had changed his affection for chili. Unknown to me, Jericho had a bad association with chili for a number of years (due to being sick at the same time as eating chili, not because of the chili) and therefore lost his taste for it. Yet another testimony why this chili is fantastic!

Here is my changed recipe:

1 tablespoon olive oil
1 package of pork sausage
2 medium onions, diced
1 green bell pepper, diced
6 garlic cloves, minced
1 little can of tomato paste
2 tablespoons chili powder
2 tablespoons sweet paprika
3 tablespoons Southwest Grilling Seasoning
1 tablespoon dried oregano
1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper
2 tablespoons brown sugar
Two 28-ounce cans diced tomatoes
1 16-ounce cans red kidney beans, drained
1 16-ounce can black beans, drained
1 16-ounce can yellow corn
2 cups water

In a large pot, heat the oil. Add the sausage and cook over high heat, breaking it up, until browned, about 15 minutes. Add the onions, bell pepper and garlic; cook over moderately high heat, stirring, until the onion is translucent, 8 minutes. Add the tomato paste and cook for 3 minutes. Add the chili powder, paprika, cumin and oregano and cook for 1 minute.

Add the tomatoes, beans, corn and water and cook over moderately low heat, stirring occasionally, until thickened, about 1 hour. Season with salt and pepper. Serve the chili with cheddar cheese and sour cream.

Some notes on my changes:

- I don't have an "enameled cast-iron casserole." I'm not even sure what that is. I used a large saute pan for the first step, then dumped everything into the big pot when it was time to add the beans and other liquids.

- If you get the sausage in links, remove the casings. I got the ground kind, like how you usually get ground beef. Much more convenient that way. I don't like a lot of meat in my chili but it would be perfectly fine to use more than 1 package. Don't go too crazy. This isn't spaghetti sauce.

- I got a green pepper mainly because the grocery store didn't have any red. Didn't seem to make a difference. Green creates more color contrast though.

- Tomato paste- I don't remember the ounce size, but it's the smallest can you can buy. I put the whole can in instead of just the 2 tablespoons because I had no use for half a can of tomato paste.

- The Southwest seasoning thing is one of those premixed seasoning concoctions that appeared in my cabinet, I think from a former roommate. I like these because I can be lazy when I'm cooking something like chicken or potatoes and I get tired of "Italian seasoning" on everything. I didn't have any cumin but this mix did, as well as a bunch of other fun spices that seemed like they'd be good in chili, so I dumped a bunch in.

- I couldn't believe there was a chili recipe that didn't call for any kind of red pepper seasoning. I put in about 2 dashes, which I'm guessing was about 1/2 tsp. It was the perfect amount of kick for me. I like spicy but just the little-bit-of-linger kind, not the breathing-fire kind.

- I added the first two cups of water and thought it looked like enough so I stopped. And it was. I'm not sure why this recipe would need 4 cups of water. Use your judgment.

- I split up the beans into two kinds because I thought it would add some variety and it made it look prettier. Also the reason why I added a whole can of corn instead of just a cup. It did indeed make a very pretty chili.

Also as part of my tradition, I make corn bread with my chili. I got this recipe from a former roommate in college. We call it "Corn Cake" because it pretty much is. I've never served it to anyone that has felt the need to put butter on it, even my father. You know how most corn bread crumbles like a sand castle at the slightest touch? Yeah, not this bread. It's that incredibly moist and sweet.

Corn Bread

1/2 cup butter, softened
1 cup sugar
1 1/2 cup milk
1 1/2 cup flour
1 cup corn meal
2 teaspoon baking powder
2 eggs
1/2 teaspoon salt

Cream butter, sugar, and eggs. Mix in dry ingredients. Add milk last (YES! you will use all of the milk). Pour into greased 8x8 pan. Bake at 350 for 30 minutes. (I often cook for about 15 minutes longer than this, but it could just be my oven.)

Planes and Turkeys

2009-12-06T21:59:00.001-05:00

Jericho and I spent Thanksgiving in Ohio with Jericho's brother's family. We had never been to up to visit the Ohio Belchers so this was a great opportunity to visit out of state relatives. Plus, our new niece Katie Belle was born October 29 and we got to see her for the first time! She is such a doll and a great baby! Thanksgiving dinner was fantastic and I made sure to get some recipes from the SIL before we left (kind of at Jericho's request).

Jericho's brother is in the Air Force and stationed at Wright-Patterson. Also at Wright-Patterson is the National Air Force Museum. You totally just jumped out of your seat didn't you? Yes, it was exciting. Jericho and I spent an afternoon touring the museum. We were there for 5 hours and still didn't see everything. I never thought I could spend 5 hours looking at planes. I did bring my camera so that slowed us down quite a bit. In hindsight I probably shouldn't have taken so many pictures. Also because it drained my battery and have no other pictures from Thanksgiving. So... all you get is a bunch of pictures of REALLY COOL MILITARY AIRPLANES!!! Dud dud daaaa!!!!

Worst Christmas Songs, Part II

2009-12-01T16:50:00.008-05:00

Last year I listed my top least favorite Christmas songs. This year I've decided to post something along those lines but a little different.

We all love Christmas music. It reminds us of eggnog and fire places and cinnamon and hugs and little children singing. We love the Eartha Kitt and Frank Sinatra classics. Even some of the bubbly pop Christmas songs. But everyone who has ever recorded music, and some that should never have in the first place, feels it is their duty to bring us a Christmas album. E-v-e-r-y-o-n-e. To demonstrate my point, I give you:

15 Completely Unnecessary/Shocking Christmas Albums

If you ever wondered what a Christmas album would sound like from the pack-a-day cashier at the local truck stop, this is the album for you.

Most country artists have Christmas albums. That's no shocker. But Toby Keith? Christmas with whiskey and cigars ya'll!! American Christmas kicks %@*! Red and green forever!!

I personally don't like either Kenny Rogers or Dolly Parton's music. Plus, I'm completely creeped out by this album cover.

As the song states: "Instead of turkey we’ll have mahi mahi grillin’, And pina colodas in the blender chillin’". I'm pretty sure Kenny's 365-day beachy tan is either from a bottle or the tanning salon. We're over the beach phase. Pick a new genre.

"This lavish holiday set has been called the greatest rock and roll Christmas album of all time." It's true. Nobody says Merry Christmas like a convicted murderer.

Their O Come all ye Faithful is set to the melody of "We're not gonna take it". In case we all forgot what song made them famous.

There's nothing blatantly weird about this album. Just that it's probably the most useful thing she's ever done with her talent. It's the only album she's produced that can be listened to by people with any amount of moral fiber and not feel tainted.

Amazon Review: "A good antidote to Mariah or Christina, but if you're here, you probably know that anyway."

It sounds like "Christmas with the Karate Kid ". I'm not lying. Go listen to the clips.

The only reason a Christmas CD should ever have a parental advisory warning label is if there's a song called "Santa Claus isn't real!!". 16 of the 16 songs have [explicit] lyrics. You will have a very special place in hell if this gets you in the holiday spirit.

Amazon Review: "If you try to stay still while listening to this collection you'll hurt yourself!" I think I'd hurt myself regardless.

John Tesh has not 1 but 8 Christmas albums. Why buy the Best Of when you could have 8 different ways to make you want to stick needles in your eyes?

The other album in this series is called "It's a Denny's Thanksgiving."

Did Billy Idol even play the piano? "The best excuse for the existence of this album we could come up with was that he owed a bookie money."

Amazon review: "David Hasselhoff + Christmas = magic... It's a magic that only exists between Hasselhoff, his fans, and his Trans Am. Give this CD to a non-christian friend and watch them forsake their religion, their family, and their country." Either for Christianity or Hasselhoff worship, not really sure which one this guy is talking about.