Call me ugly, call me stupid, but don't call me late for dinner

So I love food. I am entertained watching others prepare food. I am entertained trying new food. I enjoy reading about food. I, at times, enjoy planning out and preparing my food. I will get giddy with excitement anticipating a good meal. My brother use to make fun of me because I would watch cooking shows and infomercials about things like the Ronco Food Dehydrator before the Food Network was born. I believe there is power in food.

A few weeks ago I was teaching the Young Women in my ward how to make sweet rolls. I was showing how you could make 3 kinds of rolls from one dough- Cinnamon Rolls, Caramel Apple Sweet rolls and Orange Marmalade rolls. Each girl got to take home a pan of rolls and the recipes. But I forgot one of the recipes. So when I was passing out the missing recipe on Sunday, I jokingly mentioned that they weren't allowed to make these rolls for boys until they were 21. Because if they did, the boy would immediately propose marriage. One of the girl's eyes got big and she said outloud, "It's true!" She later told me she had given her pan to a boy and that night he talked to her for hours. I smiled knowingly and said, "Now you know the power of these rolls. So don't use that power unless you want the attention it will produce!"

I also think food can communicate love. I can easily turn down a store bought treat in a second. But I if someone takes the time and effort to make a homemade goodie, I consider it a slap in the face to not try one because "I am on a diet" or "I am trying to cut back." People often talk about things being made with love or the secret ingredient in their dishes being love and I believe this is a real thing. Not just something you say to be cute. Often when I make something specific for someone I will try to create something that I know they like or have mentioned it being a favorite. For my brother-in-law, JJ's birthday I made bean burritos that he ate at my house and raved about. They can be frozen and eaten over several meals. I told Eric this and he said, "Did JJ one time offhand say that he liked them and now you are making him a whole batch?" I replied, "No, he didn't 'offhand' mention it. He has told me several times how much he likes them and wishes he had some more."

Which brings me to another point about food. Just like frequently a prophet is not revered in his own land, a cook isn't always appreciated in her own kitchen. I am part of a cooking club and not to toot my own horn, but I have been told by some of my fellow cooking clubbers that they would like me to prepare their last meal. I, mistakenly, mentioned this to Eric and he said, "Well, you're a pretty good cook." WHAT?!? Pretty good?!? I politely told him that in some circles I am revered for my cooking. He just sort of raised his eyebrows at that. And I'm constantly being told by my kids that I make weird things. But honestly there is nothing that breaks my heart more than telling me you don't like my cooking. Although I suppose every Rocky needs his Mickey to tell him where he needs to improve and Eric and my kids are Mickey to my cooking Rocky. I guess my everyday kitchen can be my training boxing ring where I can experiment, make mistakes and have failures. Just as long as I come out fighting to have some winning dishes I can showcase in the championship ring.

So in honor of all this cooking talk I am going to post one of my winning, most requested recipes on the cooking blog I am a part of- Tried and True. It is the spaghetti sauce I can every fall because Eric won't eat store-bought spaghetti sauce. I am naming it "The Spaghetti Sauce that isn't quite as famous as James Dashner but almost" because James Dashner is the most famous person I have ever dated. He was my first date and he wasn't famous then but he is getting to be famous now. He is the author of the book "The Maze Runner" and the sequel to that book- "The Scorch Trials" comes out this week, so it seems especially fitting that a recipe be named after him now. So if you want the recipe just click on the name above. And remember- "Call me ugly, call me stupid, but don't call me a bad cook."

36 and counting

I had a hard time deciding what I should blog about this weekend. At first I thought I should write about how I feel like a squirrel preparing for winter because of all the case lot sales and canning that has been going around here.

Then I considered writing about the Dirty Dash I ran last weekend with some crazy ladies! Or should I write about the beautiful, yet still hot change of seasons that is going on right now.
But ultimately I am going to write about my birthday- and ironically I don't have any pictures of that... yet! Saturday was my 36th birthday. Birthdays are a funny thing. They are a unique balance of owning your expectations, expressing your expectations and having fulfilled other's birthday expectations. Some years I have planned my own party and other years we have gone on vacation (The picture at the top of my blog was taken last year on my 35th birthday at Arches National Park.) But this year was a little quieter and I was just fine with that.

Last week I was talking to a girl at the gym I go to about her turning 30 recently. She was having a hard time turning 30 and I was explaining to her that I have loved my 30s so much better than my 20s. She wanted to know why because other people have said that to her and she just didn't get it. I told her, "Well, I think I am more confident in my 30s and I don't feel the need to compare myself to or please others as much. I figure if you like me- great, if you don't -I'm not going to worry about it." She replied, "I have always been that way, so I guess I just feel old." And I can understand what she means because I remember when I turned 30 it freaked my out because I can remember my own mother being in her 30s. But I left the conversation feeling like there was more to it, but I couldn't quite put my finger on what it was that made my 30s better. But then something happened on my birthday that helped me put it into words.

We haven't had a family picture taken for two years, so for my birthday I decided I would schedule to have one taken. Then the day of my birthday I told my kids that their birthday present to me was to not complain about having to take pictures, wearing what I want them to wear and letting me do their hair the way I want them to. Incidentally, after I told my kids this, Annie proceeded to tell me that on HER birthday I had to wear what she wanted me to wear and I had to do my hair the way she wanted me to do it. I told her if this made her happy, then I would gladly do it. So if you happen to see me on June 8th next year and I look sort of "special", you'll know why.

Now you would think that this would be a fairly easy request for my kids. But it did require some initial tongue-biting, especially from Finn. He absolutely hates getting pictures taken, especially professional ones. He insists that our camera does just as good a job. I knew his opinions and I didn't want to hear them on my birthday and at first he did a good job of keeping them to himself. But then the hour of the photo shoot drew near and a friend called to ask if he could hang out. Eric was with me when Finn approached to ask if he could go. I reminded Finn that we had pictures to get ready for. Finn started grumbling. Eric immediately stopped him and said, "Hey, that's not part of the deal." But Finn continued, "I'm not complaining, I just think..." To which Eric interrupted, "You were complaining and it doesn't matter what you think because we are getting pictures taken." I didn't have to say a thing. This honestly meant so much to me because truth be told, Eric hates getting professional pictures taken too. But he respected me and my birthday request enough to support me and take on the criticism himself. He really could have turned to me and said, "Happy Birthday" without giving me anything and I would have been happy. So I've concluded that another reason why I like my 30s so much better is because it doesn't take near as much to make me content. Things aren't nearly as important to me as people. Now don't get me wrong I'm not ready to give up all my material possessions and live a monk-like life. A gift is always well-received. But relationships and doing the little things that make them work are more meaningful to me than big gestures of monetary value. And that brings a lot of satisfaction to my closer to 40 than 30 year old soul.

Another funny event from my birthday was the presentation of gifts from my children. Eric had taken them to the Dollar Store so they could use their allowances to buy me presents. They came home and Finn walks into my room and hands me his unwrapped present and a card with no envelope and nothing written inside. I thanked him for the present, handed the card back to him and said with a sly smile that he forgot to sign his name and tell me how he feels about me in the card. He took it back with a grin and put his John Hancock and an "I love you." in it. At this point Annie walks in with her present all wrapped and her enveloped card with a signature and a "You are the best mom ever!" written inside. What a difference that extra X chromosome makes!

Sophomoric Pranks

Ours is a house divided. And there is no other time during the year that that is more evident then during football season. I am a BYU Cougar and Eric is a Utah Man. Although I constantly like to remind him that I am the only one with a degree from the university I cheer for! But I must say that I am not one of those pushy, obnoxious fans who is always antagonizing or referring back to the glory days of the Cougars. For the most part our children are being raised as Utah fans and I feel just fine about that. I like cheering for the U as well, especially over the past few years when their star has been rising so fast and high. But every once in awhile I like to assert where my true loyal lies.

I attended BYU in the early 90's and absolutely loved it. When I look back at my formative years, I can say I had fun in high school now but I'm not sure I could say that while I was going through it. But I can say with assurance that I knew I was having a good time in college while I was going through it. I think even while I was in my "Provo Bubble" I was oblivious to the true, full nature of the BYU-UTAH rivalry. I knew they were a foe but back then BYU was generally the dominant team. So I took pride in being the winning team without losing a lot of sleep of what the U of U students thought of me. Since my years at BYU I have since discovered the at times over-simplified, generic stereotypes that some fans from both sides like to place on each other. I won't go into those now because I don't want to perpetuate groups of people being painted with a broad brush. But needless to say there are a lot of both Ute and Cougar fans whom I love and adore.

But like I said, my children are inundated with a whole lot of Ute propoganda and paraphenalia. We have Ute blankets, t-shirts, sweatshirts, magnets, rugs, Christmas decorations, footballs, foam #1 hands, hats, pencils, banana chairs, flags, stickers, license plates, beads, pajamas, etc. And I am so not exagerrating. We have every single on of those items in our house and not one Y to be found. Well last weekend I decided to remedy that situation. Eric was at a scout camp overnighter with Finn. Friday afternoon a young guy knocked on my door offering to paint my house address on my curb. I had just recently had it done so I wasn't interested, but then a lightning bolt struck my head. I asked him if he painted letters too, like so many Y and U fans have on their curbs. I explained the college rivalry situation in our household and asked if he could paint a royal blue Y next to my house number. He said he could but he would have to come back tomorrow because he didn't have the paint or stencils. He thought it was so funny that he was happy to come back the next day. I warned him that he had to come in the morning because if my husband caught him, he would for sure stop him. So at about 9am Saturday morning he showed up with a buddy to paint this beauty on my curb:

After he was done, he had me come admire his work and told me he would come back in a month to see if it was still there. He even offered to later paint a U on the other side, free of charge, because he thought it was such a great joke.

Now the trick was waiting for Finn and Eric to get home and see how long it took them to notice. I made my girls swear not to tell them. Remember they have been indoctrinated too, so I pretty much had to threaten them with their lives to keep their "Utah Man" song holes shut! But when they did come home the girls kept saying things to them like , "Notice anything different?" or "What has changed around here?" But luckily the men in my home are use to vague, probing questions made by females in a vain attempt to get attention; that it didn't even faze them. So Saturday passed by with no reaction. Then Sunday nothing, and Monday the same. But Tuesday Finn and Eric needed to mow the lawn before the garbage man came on Wednesday. It was during a pass with the lawnmower down the front park strip that Finn noticed the inconspicuous Y on the curb. He immediately called Eric over to take a look at it. After which Eric marched right in to me, while I was in the bathroom no less and demanded, "Was that you or Harold who put that Y on my curb?" Now I must say here that Harold is a neighbor of ours who is a devoted BYU fan and an avid reader of my blog. So, Harold, I want you to know that I exonerated your name and took full responsibility. But I was curious to know why he thought it was you so I asked him. He responded, "Because that seems like the kind of sophomoric prank he would pull." So I'm sorry you got pulled into our household rivalry!

Eric informed me that evening that the Y would be gone by morning, but I am proud to say that it is still there. This probably due to laziness rather than any newly developed sympathetic leanings toward the Y. But I did find this on my front window the next morning as I was driving my kids to school:

I commented to Eric on the subtlety of his U response to my Y. But I think that just speaks to U fans... they are kind of loud, obvious, in your face people whereas Y fans are a bit more refined and soft-spoken. In fact I think the term I'm searching for is "meek." ;) Oh, did I say I was going to stay away from stereotypes? Well I just couldn't help myself. But if you would like to help me continue these sophomoric pranks, I am up to suggestions. I have a few ideas ruminating in my brain, but I could always use more. After all we still have 3 more months of college football to go!

Ahh... School pictures

This week in honor of having school pictures taken, I am going to share some of my own classic school pictures.

This is first picture was taken in 4th grade. What is so great is I think it was the first time my mom let me do my own hair for my pictures. "Feathering" was all the rage back in 1983. I'm not sure if I didn't use enough hairspray on the right side of my hair or if I played dodgeball extra hard during recess, but somehow only one side of my hair stayed "feathered." Which I was probably mad about when I got my school pictures back, but now I think it tells a story about what I was like when I was that age. I'm glad my mom didn't insist on me getting a retake so my hair could look perfect. That wouldn't be near as interesting. And speaking of retakes, this is another one of my favorite school pictures.This was a year later, in 5th grade. Apparently I got the feathered look down, but not the keeping my eyes open look-because this was a retake. And even though this was my second and last attempt at a good 5th grade picture, I'm once again glad that my mom didn't destroy the picture because it wasn't perfect. Something I just noticed about these pictures is that in both of them I am wearing a button-down shirt with a sweater. I was living in Georgia during this time and I assume they took pictures in the fall back then like they do now. I can imagine I was hotter than hades in my sweater and button-down shirt in the southern heat and humidity. No wonder one side of my hair fell flat!
Needless to say, I have carried on the tradition of not requiring that pictures of my kids look perfect. I absolutely adore pictures of screaming kids on Santa's lap. Not that I enjoy making my kids scream, but what I like is that it accurately reflects the experience they had at that age. Last year I was out of town when my kids had school pictures taken. Before I even saw them, I decided I would keep them no matter what they looked like. I was very interested to see how they would look when their dad got them ready for school and especially on school picture day. And I was pleasantly surprised:

Sure they don't have bows, braids or curls in their hair and it looks like Katie and Annie have some static-y hair goin' on and could have used a quick comb-through but for the most part they look pretty good. I mean this is a more accurate reflection of what they look like day in and day out at school than any other school picture. Now don't get me wrong I did plenty to get them picture ready this year- Finn got a haircut the day before, I blew dry Annie's hair and Katie got braids but I think we should say no to retakes and let our kids' childhood shine through. I mean what says childhood more than big glasses, big-gaped teeth, half down hair and half open eyes!

P.S.- I got a little BYU/Utah rivalry experiment going on in my house right now. I'll let you in on the joke as soon as the intended targets figure it out!

Silly Bands and other Silly Stories

Really. She hasn't posted in close to two months and she is going to post about silly bands?!? I know that is what you are thinking. And my answer to that is ... "Why, yes. Yes, I am." See over the past two months I have had plenty to post about but nothing has really written itself in my mind. I know this sounds weird but often when I post a story the story has already written itself in my head. Sometimes the telling of the story will take a different turn when I go to write it, but I usually have a general idea of what they story will be like. But I've had a bit of a blogger's block over the past months and nothing has formed itself. Then today I had a lesson on journals in church and it inspired me to blog again even if the story isn't there to begin with. So my new goal is to post every Sunday and it may be a recall of events from the week or it may be my recording a past event or just my musings. Either way I trust that for good or bad some story will present itself. So in the name of recording our family's history of both the significant and the mundane this week's post is about the all important Silly Bands. If you don't have a 1st-6th grader you may not know what these are. So here is a picture of them along with the most Silly Band obsessed member of our family.

They are little jelly/rubbery bands (I like how they are named "bands", not "bracelets" so as to not be gender specific and thus exclude the profits from the allowances of half the elementary age population). Kids wear multiples of them at a time and of course trade them. When they are on their wrists they look like most bands except they are a little more wavy. But then when you take them off they take the shape of all kinds of things... animals, crowns, wands, hearts, stars, lips, looney tunes characters, automobiles, etc.

What really struck me about these things is how quickly they became a pop culture sensation/kid fad. Katie got some for her birthday the first week of school; this being the first time I had seen them. Then within a week Annie was coming home from school begging for me to take her to the store so she can spend her allowance on them. Before i knew it every kid I saw was wearing them. It got me thinking what makes these fads and who decides them. It seems like a few years ago pokemon cards were the big thing. And I remember when i was in elementary school trading stickers on the bus. I even had a photo album I stored them in so I could see all my prized possessions at once. And of course the scratch and sniff stickers were like the Snickers in your Halloween loot, meaning they were the most sought after. Annie has informed me that the Tie-Dye silly bands are the Scratch and Sniff of the silly band world and that the simple ones like an ice cream or a heart are like the Bit O Honey of the Halloween loot, meaning they will take them because they are technically candy but they won't be happy about it. So my purpose in recording all this is maybe one day twenty years from now Annie will read this and say, "Oh, yea! I forgot how much I loved those silly bands."

I also wanted to tell another funny story about Annie. When Annie was little I was chalk full of "Annie" stories. She was such a character and everyone loved hearing about her antics. This was all during the pre-blogging era and I tried to write them down but I don't think I got this one down. When Annie was about 3 or 4 years old we were down in St. George with my family- meaning my parents and siblings. My sister was the only other one with kids and we decided to take them to McDonalds for ice cream. When we got there my nephew, Jeffrey, decided he wanted french fries. So we gave everyone, including Annie, the option of having ice cream or fries. Annie said she wanted ice cream so that is what she got. But then when everyone got their order Annie experienced 3 year old buyer's remorse. She really wanted fries once she saw Jeffrey's. But being the mean mom I am I told her she had to have her ice cream because that is what she told me she wanted. And I wasn't even offering to get her fries if she ate all her ice cream because I am that mean and that cheap! It was eat your ice cream or eat nothing. Well Annie relented and finally started eating her ice cream. But between her pathetic, weak licks at her ice cream she kept casting jealous glances at Jeffrey's fries. It was hilarous to watch because you knew exactly what she was thinking without her saying a word. Her look spoke loud and clear "I don't want this stupid ice cream. I really, really wish I could have those fries." So now when me and my sisters make a decision and then realize we made the wrong choice and start coveting the choice we should have made, we pretend we are licking an ice cream with a frown on our face that says, "I really wish I could have those fries."

Can I get a Witness?

I have heard it said that what most of us need and want from life is a witness. Someone who we can tell our "stories" to right after they happen. Someone who we can nudge when we see something cool. Someone we can call when we think, "Have a thought, must share." I am very fortunate to have several of these witnesses in my life, and I am grateful for each of them. But one of my main "witnesses" is my older sister, Michelle. And since it is her birthday today I thought it only appropriate that I express how grateful I am that she is my witness.

Michelle and I are two years apart and some people think I am older and some people think she is my mother. (Note: If you don't want to be on Michelle's "list" don't ever ask if either of her younger sisters are her daughters.) And more often then not people are very surprised when they find out we are sisters. We don't look anything alike and our personalities and interests are quite different. Some of the things we do share are the same heritage, similar sense of humor, mannerisms and stage of life. It is the perfect combination to make our relationship work so well. Our differences allow us to strengthen each other and learn from each other and our similarities allow us to relate to and appreciate each other. Michelle is one of my very favorite people to tell a story to. Because our humor is so much the same, I know she will laugh the hardest when I have a funny story to tell. She always has as what we call "the script." She knows what to say to make me feel better or to validate my feelings. I don't think there is a detail about my life she doesn't know and vice versa. And because we are so close, some of our different interests and talents have become the other one's talents and interests just because we are willing to try them because the other one does them.

When we were growing up we weren't all that close. I was the annoying little sister who always wanted to tag along with her and her friends and she was the bossy older sister who never let me borrow her clothes. She may still have the physical scars of my fingernails on her back and I'm pretty sure I still have the emotional scars from being locked in the bathroom multiple times even though I was assured by her everytime that she wouldn't lock me in this time. (Have I mentioned before that I was a gullible kid? and Michelle took full advantage of this!) I'm sure my mother worried about us growing up but we have grown to be each other's biggest supporter and defender.

One of the things I admire the most about Michelle is she knows who she is. She doesn't downplay her strengths and she doesn't make any excuses for her weaknesses. She is who she is and you can take her or leave her. I prefer to take her because I think she is a wonderful sister and person. She is extremely loyal to those she loves and would do anything for them (as long as it doesn't fall between 9:00 and 11:30 am when she is at the gym everyday !:) See the great thing about our relationship is I can tease her like that and she knows I do it in love and fun. It is part of our charm, so we think! So Happy Birthday Missy! Thank you for being my greatest cheerleader and witness. I love you!

The Summer Of . . .

I realized we are a little over halfway through the summer and i haven't posted anything about what we have been doing. We haven't been on any big vacations this summer since "Tuition" has been rented out for most of the summer. "Tuition" is the name I gave to the motorhome we bought a little over a year ago. I christened the RV "Tuition" because instead of saving for our kids' college tuition we decided to buy an RV. But this year decided it might be a little more financially prudent to actually have some money in the bank when it is time for our kids' higher education, so through a vacation rental business that one of Eric's friends owns we have been renting out "Tuition" and actually saving for tuition at the same time. It is what Stephen Covey would call a "win-win."

Anyway I have noticed that sometimes there are certain events that can define a summer. Things like a certain song (think "Summer of "69) or a movie- like I remember seeing "Back to the Future" in the summer of '89. So in that vein, here are some of the things that have defined the Summer of '10 for our family.

*Car games- In our travels back and forth to the pool or to the store or to friends' houses, my kids have created an amalgamation of several different car games which include "Slugbug", "Bingo", "Mustang, motorcycle, convertible" to name a few. Basically they look for certain cars and try to "call" them before anyone else and then reward themselves points for them. For example if you see a motorcycle you get one point. If you see a "bingo"(yellow) mustang you get two points. And the piece de resistance is a bingo slugbug convertible with the top off. Of course they don't keep track of the points and make the rules up at will and it sometimes causes one of those highly intelligent arguments that my kids are famous for. But it does keep them entertained and it can be highly entertaining for me to listen to. The best is when Katie is talking to me and doesn't even take a breath or miss a beat in her sentence to call out a car she has seen. "Mom, I really want to play with motorcycle! Sarah because I haven't mustang convertible! played with her in a long time." And the only way to end the game is if you see missionaries because they are worth like a million points.

*The Drive-In movie- We have discovered the drive-in movie this summer and we are never going back. It is the only way to see a movie in the summer with young kids. It is much cheaper because kids under 10 are only $1 and we can bring our own treats. Plus when Suzie gets bored about 2/3 into the movie which she almost inevitably does she can move around more without disturbing other people. The only draws backs are the late start time- 9:30pm and getting pulled over at 11:45pm with all your girls in the backseat. But that's a post of a different color!


*My flower-pots actually surviving and thriving. I have grown a garden for years and seem to manage a pretty healthy harvest. But my flower pots are another story altogether. Usually they look like this: And this year they actually look like this:

Although I do have to say that when I started to type this I remembered I hadn't watered them today so I had to stop and go do that. My inability to consistently remember to do this may have something to do with their early demise every year.

*The Norwegian Pancake Pan- My ancestry comes from Norway and so does one of our favorite breakfast foods- Norwegian pancakes. My mom made them, her mom made them, her grandma made them, etc. They are similiar to crepes and my kids love them covered in butter and syrup. A few years ago my mom tried to find authentic Norwegian Pancake pans to give to all her children and couldn't. But she did find this pan:

I think it is suppose to be for making tortillas and it does a good job of making other ethnic fare like Norwegian pancakes too. But this summer it has been our go to pan not only for pancakes but also for grilled cheese, cheese quesadillas, etc. It can't be washed with soap, but almost everyday I am scraping it clean.

I do have a funny story related to this pan. A few weeks ago we had my very honest, very adorable 6 year old nephew, Easton, over for a sleepover. I was making Norwegian pancakes for breakfast. My sister, his mom, also makes these pancakes and Easton was bragging that he could eat 5 Norwegian pancakes. We make them basically the same way but I do one thing different. I use whole wheat flour instead of white flour because it is a way to get whole grains in my kids when they don't know it. I didn't think it made much difference in the taste, but my nephew proved me wrong. After eating just one pancake he proclaimed he was done. I questioned his earlier claim and said, "But I thought you could eat 5?!?" He responded, "Yeah, that's at home where they're good." Oh, I see!

*Lofty Goals- I make lofty goals for my kids in the summer about things like reading, working on math facts, learning a new skill, etc. But like I said, these are goals I make, not them. They make goals like not sleeping in their bed the whole summer. Finn accomplished this last summer and is working on it again this year and so far he is rockin' it. He sleeps on the coach mostly but sometimes he makes a fort or sleeps outside with a cousin. And isn't that one of the secrets to being successful at a goal... make it one that is attainable so you don't get frustrated and give up. Who needs a goal like reading 10 books in the summer when you accomplish another one and not have a bed to make in the morning? Now that is what Finn would call a "win-win!"