Max, the Bulldog

This morning I was accused of having "alot of pictures of Quincy, but not enough of Max" on my blog. I guess it's true, there's a reason for that. Up until now, most pictures of Max have been pretty much all the same - he's either sitting in his highchair - smiling, sitting in his car seat - smiling, laying on the ground - smiling, or sitting on the floor - smiling. He hasn't really "done" much. That's all beginning to change now - Max started crawling last week. He's the cutest little inch-worm I've ever seen. So here's a few video's of him - I need to start taking more picture, but ever since I learned how to take video's on my camera I've been doing tons of video's . Anyway, I love the way his hands kind of point inward while he crawls - I think he looks like a little English Bulldog.

He also has started eating some different foods - he loves the baby toast. I can only let him have it right before his bath because he makes a giant mess.

How I Became a Chick-Flick Connoisseur

Warning to all readers! This is a horribly written post. There are all kinds of digressions, and insertions of information not really relavent to what I'm trying to say. That's my life.

My youngest sister, Laura, she flatters me. She calls my occasional little blog essays "columns," and she's been asking for a new one lateley - nearly everytime I speak to her, which is nearly every day. "Is there a new column yet?" she says. I told her that I need some kind of inspiration - I don't just randomly sit down and start writing. Anyway, I think I have something that will satisfy her for a few days. This is the story of how I became a chick-flick connoisseur.


It all began in the "nappy-appy", as Laura and I like to call it. When Israel and I found out that I was pregnant with Quincy, we moved out of our awesome condo on a hill with a view of the Great Salt Lake, and into the cheapest apartment we could rent - we were terrified of how we were going to make it financially. I had been earning more than half of our income, and we knew that I would quit my job once the baby came. Now that I think of it, that first baby really was a leap of faith - we really didn't know how we would survive. Anyway - the nappy appy. It was a little 2 bedroom place. One living room wall was cinder-block painted white, the other three sides were dark panel fake wood. The carpet was a rough, glorified indoor-outdoor type of thing. Because the washer and dryer were in the kitchen, there was no room for a table...anywhere. We ate on the futon and used the coffee table as dinner table. The afternoon that we moved into that apartment I just sat down and cried. The worst part of the nappy appy - spiders. Big, brown, fast ones. I'm sure they were probably one of those poison kinds - brown recluse or something, but I never tried that hard to find out because I didn't want to know. It seems like I had to take care of at least one of those everyday. I hated it.



We moved into this apartment in August, and Quincy came in November. She was the most high-strung baby. She would not sleep unless I was holding her, so as you can imagine I spent alot of time rocking her in the recliner. Laura was in Jr. High at the time, and the nappy appy was just a few blocks from her home - so every day after school she came up to spend the afternoon. She was my salvation that year. I was this new mom, with a baby that didn't sleep at night, and wouldn't be put down during the day. I was trying to finish my degree - taking classes online and stressed about them. I had the worst apartment ever. I was trying to adjust to being a stay at home mom - and found it difficult. I was always so glad when school got out and I knew I would see Laura. She had alot of faith in me back then. I helped her with her math, and back then she believed that I was good at it - not so much anymore. Same with English - she doesn't know how someone with a degree in English could not know the difference between a pronoun, adverb, preposition, etc. Come on - the only grown ups who know that stuff are the ones who have to teach it.....right??? At least she still thinks I can write. Anyway, we'd work on her school stuff, feed Quincy ice cream and red vines, sometimes take a drive to our favourite conveniance store - VIP, for a bevy, and then spend the rest of the afternoon watching movies. It started with Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood. How we adored Vivi, I think we have watched that together at least 20 times. The phenomenon just expanded from there - if there's a boring afternoon, then there's sure to be a movie - and I have lots of boring afternoons. We specialize in southern chick-flicks, and sometimes our conversations are made up entirely of quoted movie lines. I miss Laura. She's got a car and a job now, so she's not dropping by after school anymore. Theres also the little fact that she lives a thousand miles away. When I visit we always try to schedule at least one movie afternoon - but she's right, I rarely sit through the whole thing now - these kiddos of mine, they make that hard.



I love you Laura - those were good days!

She likes to Move It, Move It

I don't know how Quincy knows this song, the only time I hear it is at the gym. Anyway, somehow she knows it, and she knows how to move it. Yea - the video is sideways - but it's worth the neckache. Sometimes the only reason I believe this girl is related to me or her father is because I was there when she came out :)

St. Patricks Day

My awesome friend Heidi came over on Monday morning with a little treat for Max - some green hair gel. You can 't see it very well, but look at those emerald spikes closely - these two little guys definitely didn't get pinched that day!

Movie Game

Here's a new one!
"Eh, it's a, a, chipmunk bite"
"I figured, obviously not a normal chipmunk"
"You're right about that. No, this was more like a big oversized bob-cat, grizzly bear chipmunk. I'm pretty fortunate to still be here."
"Wow. What did the doctor say?"
"I didn't need to see a doctor. I had some cream at home that I put on."
"You had chipmunk cream?"
"Yea"
"Wow, that's lucky"
"I'n it"

Movie Game, and My Very Own Joon

Laci got it, it was Benny and Joon! Sometimes, as seen in the following video, Quincy bears a striking resemblence to Joon. This is not an unusual outfit for her to be wearing. Please note the backpack stuffed with toys.

Movie Game - New Hints

Ok, I have to give everyone fair warning - my sister, Laura, now has a google account, so she can make comments on my blog, and I can almost guarantee that she knows every line I post. I did tell her not to spoil the fun though.

So here are a couple hint for this round - the new song on my playlist is the opening song for the movie. Also, these are among the items in the pot of a card game:

"salad shoot-er!"
"medium sized green haired troll"
"soap on a rope, slightly used"
"re-grout my shower, blue grout"

Med-School Wives, Living On The Scraps

Every once in a while, I get the urge to just tell things like they are. To just be honest. To say it like it really is, and let the world judge me. I think it's helpful, I think that everyone feels better about their struggles if they know they're not alone. Then there's the part of me who wonders if she really is alone. And so I say nothing. Well, today I'm going to say something. I'm not going to consider it whining, or airing dirty laundry, or any of that stuff. I'm just going to be honest. Let me know if you can relate - or if you think I'm just a crazy lady on a rant who should shut up. Either way, you're probably right.
I like a good piece of meat - a steak, or a piece of chicken, a pork chop, turkey, or even a piece of fish (but no salmon, please). Meat makes you feel full for a long time. It builds up your blood iron, which gives you strength. It satisfies. You shouldn't live on meat alone, but some meat is good. Meat is good, but it does come with fat and grizzle that has to be removed first - there are parts of it that just aren't so great or nourishing, they don't even taste good. We call those parts scraps, trim them away and throw them out.
Israel had been getting up at like 3am almost every morning this week. He'd been studying alot, and it paid off - he did really well on yesterdays test. After class was done he stayed at the school for a while studying, and then came home to spend the evening with the family - he tries to give Friday night to us, family time. He was tired. When I'm tired I always feel like a loaded trap - be careful not to stumble across me. Anyway, we ran a couple errands, went to our favourite Mexican restaurant, and came home to begin the process of putting the kids to bed. That's when the trouble started. There was no explosion, no yelling, no cussing - but there was also no connecting, no laughing, and no fun. I hate that, and it seems all to familiar. He took no great efforts to hide the fact that helping feed Max, helping dress Quincy, and watching Shrek III for the millionth time was not what he wanted to do. At one point when he was getting on Quincy's case for doing something that was just plain normal for a kid to do, I said "why don't you just go to bed." I meant it too - I really don't love to be around a grump. He didn't go to bed, and the night ended without any special incident - but it wasn't special either. It bothered me all night, especially because these kinds of nights happen much too often. This morning I realized - our family is living on scraps. All the best meat is going to the school - and we're getting the fat and grizzle. We can survive on it for a while, but not forever. I don't know if rotations will be any different, I'm not trying to figure that out right now. These are just the facts.