It's Funny How You Change

I was just logging on to blog about a trivial happening in our household today, when I saw for the third time the news about the earthquake in China. Every report I've seen mentions children being trapped in a crumbled school. That has really bothered me today, and I can't hardly bring myself to play the Movie Game when I know so many people are suffering. I don't think that this kind of news used to affect me a percentage as much as it does now that I have children of my own. I think that I used the hear of these things and think to myself "That sounds really scary, I hope that never happens to me." Now when I hear of them I really feel it in my heart, and I wonder how anyone could live through something so horrifying. I can't imagine being one of those mothers, dropping your kid off at school in the morning, going about your day and getting ready for them to come home, and then having this happen. I can't imagine trying to remember how they smelled the last time you kissed them, or trying to remember what the last thing they said to you was. I can't imagine waking up from a dream where you were with them, and then having to face the reality of what has happened. I cannot fathom how those people are feeling right now, and my heart goes out to them. I held Quincy a little longer this afternoon when I put her down for a nap. I had her look me in the eyes and I said "You know what," "I know" she said "don't get out of bed." "No," I said "I really love you, you were my first baby and you will always be so special to me." I hope that someday, when I say "you know what?" the first thing that comes into her little head is that she knows I love her.

Max's 'Hawk

Here's the pictures I promised Juls and Laura. Everywhere we go lately, Max gets compliments on his sweet Mohawk. It's funny, but the genre of people who notice it most are middle aged, biker-type men. Honestly, everytime we go into Walmart a different "tough guy," type (you know what I'm talking about, rolled-up sleeves, leather vest, goatie and braid) will break into a smile, point at him, and say "I love the hairdo." Somehow this style just fits my little sweet guy. I guess a good mom would have wiped off her baby's face before she took the pictures...

Isn't It Ironic...

...I'm up and blogging at 4:30am and it's not because Max is awake? When you have a baby (actually a few months before you even have a baby) you anticipate the night that you'll finally get a good nights sleep - then when you get the chance it's so dang hard to do it! Tonight my problem is that of supply and demand - there's no demand but there sure is supply, so uncomfortable. Nursing moms will know what I'm talking about. Anyway, enough of that. I sure am begining to enjoy Quincy again. We've had a rough past year - the terrible two's and threes. It started when she was nearly 2.5, and now that she's nearly 3.5 I think she's coming out of it. I'm crossing my fingers. She's started saying the funniest things lately - some of them I can definetly tell are from me or Israel, others I have no idea where she got them. These are a couple bits from Saturday morning that made me laugh.


"Quincy, we're going to the Farmers Market this morning, won't that be fun"
"ARE YOU SERIOUS?" ok, as I type that it doesn't sound that funny - but it was the way she said it, like it was the most outragoues idea she'd ever heard.

A few minutes later everyone was done eating except her so...
"Here Quincy, I'll feed you, you just have to eat it."
"Yea, but that's not the point." - That's definetly something she's heard me say to her dad a few too many times.

Earlier this week we were outside and she found a feather on the yard. I think feathers are 100% disgusting, but she loves it. I washed it with dish soap as well as I could, and let her play with it for a few days. Then one night I hid it after she'd gone to bed, and I think she's forgotten about it now - we just won't be watching The Rescuers Down Under for A While. Here she is playing with her feather when she didn't know that I was watching. The way she's stroking it makes me think she'll grow up and have a cat and be one of those people who sit and pet their cat from nose to tail while they watch TV. The problem is - we are dog people.

She's made friends with the little boy, (well he's not really little, he's 11) who lives next door to us. He'll knock on the door and he doesn't say hello or anything, he just says "does she want to play." My grandma had given us this wagon a few years ago and we hadn't used it too much - but now it getting lots of love. In this video I'm talking to my mom on the phone in the background (not narrating to myself).

I'm kind of a "people watcher," I think it's so fun to just sit and watch people as they go about their business. Quincy has become one of my most intriging subjects. Here she is just coloring, but it's so fun to me to watch. I've noticed that her hair is rather unkempt in alot of the things I post - in my defense, it usually looks nice between the time she gets dressed in the morning and the time she takes her nap in the afternoon. Of course she always must wear somekind of costume or gown.

Max is as sweet as ever. He really gets around these days. He loves to play with balls, he'll kind of swat one around and chase after it. I was hoping to catch that here, but he had other plans.

For You, Grandma Young!

I've been lucky to have the best grandma in the world - so Quincy and Max have the best great-grandma. She always spoiled me (she bought me my only pair of Girbaud jeans in Jr. High, and my leather jacket). She still spoils me, but now she's spoiling my kids too. She's always sending us packages, and Quincy loves them. It's too bad she can't be here to see how much we enjoy them. More importantly than all the things she's given, she's been a friend, one of my best friends. She's a great example to me too. For a long time she was a big Diet Coke drinker, she'd get her big 64 oz mug filled in the morning and sip it through the day. We never would have thought that she would give it up, but then one day she just quit cold-turkey. She likes to quote an old radio drama - Helen Trent. She says that sometimes she's "dashed against the rocks of despair, but she fights back bravely." These are for you Grandma, we love you!

One of the things that grandma sent this time was a cute mini-lunchbox. She also sent a bag of gummi bears which Quincy put in the lunchbox. Yesterday I went up to find Quincy in bed with the lunchbox full of gummies.

If you and Julia go to "Bed, Butts, and Beyond" today, think of these little butts :)

What is wrong with me?

This morning Quincy and I were downstairs. After a while we heard Max playing in his crib. He was just babbling, not crying or anything so I kept reading the blogs that I was checking out. Quincy kept reminding me that Max was awake and I should go get him - I kept telling her I would in a minute. Finally in a tone of complete exasperation she says "Oh, get him! What's wrong with you?" What a perceptive little girl.

Parmesan Italian Chicken

On Sunday Israel caught me taking pictures of food in various stages of preparation. "What are you doing?" he asked - he really seemed perplexed. I felt a little sheepish, I am by no means a chef, but I just said "Cooking blogs are really popular right now." The answer seemed to satisfy him. Anyway, here's on of our favourites for chicken. It's a hybrid of two different recipes - Parmesan Chicken from a church cookbook, and Weight Watchers Cheesy Italian Chicken. I don't have exact measurements for most of it - it just depends on how many pieces of chicken you want to make. The coating mixture will cover at least 12 breasts, so I make up a batch and use what I need, and then store it in the fridge for next time. To make just plain Parmesan Chicken, mix up the crust and just put it on the chicken and skip the rest.

Crust

3/4 Cup Corn Flakes - Crushed ( I like them quite finely crushed)

3/4 Cup Parmesan Cheese (the kind that comes in a tubular container)

1 pkg Original Ranch Dressing Mix

Mix all ingredients (I do it in a ziplock bag) and set aside while you prepare the chicken. As follows:

Cut a pocket in the chicken breast. As with humans, some chickens have flatter breasts than others, so sometimes it's hard to make a pocket - but do your best. The Weight Watchers recipes suggest you hammer it flat and then roll it all up, but I hate doing that. Fill the pocket with the following:

A sprinkle of salt

A sprinkle of dried oregano

Chopped Mozzarella Cheese (the orginal recipe called for a "cheese stick" but I like using regular cheese cut up in cubes - I'm not sure why.....)

Chopped Green Pepper - 1 to 2 tablespoons per breast

Once the pockets are stuffed, melt a little butter or margarine ( I usually do 5 or 6 pieces of chicken, and for this I use about 2 Tablespoons of margarine) and brush or drizzle it over the chicken.
Sprinkle crust mixture over chicken to coat.
Bake at 350 degrees for 30-45 minutes.

Thanks for Being Honest Julia......Finally

Tonight I was talking to my sister Julia about the Cafe Rio Pork I had made for dinner. I have actually never been to Cafe Rio, but she has and she really likes the pork - so every time I've made it for her I thought I was doing something really nice. Anyway, I was telling her how I know of like three different recipes for it, and I was thinking about trying a different one than usual. That's when she said "Oh, that's good, because the one you make doesn't really taste like the real stuff." She then let me know that she had never told the truth because she didn't want to hurt my feelings - Ok, Julia, thanks for being a sweetheart. Next time, you can just be honest though. Now that I think about it - I probably would have done the exact same thing....like how I didn't tell mom for forever that I don't really like her spaghetti sauce....
One thing I'll be real honest about - Julia is an AWESOME aunt.
ok - got a spamish comment......republishing this without it....

Handsome Maxwell

We've had a rough week with this little guy - he had three teeth come in within the space of about 6 days, and he's got one more that's almost there. As you can imagine, he's been a little grouchy. Good thing he's so cute to balance things out. I do believe he is proof that men are wimpier than woman - I don't recall it ever being this bad when Quincy was getting teeth.

I did find the perfect "teether" though. I was sitting by him eating a piece of celery and he seemed so interested that I handed one to him. It was cold, and he seemed to really enjoy it.

Here's the boy doing what all mothers love - saying mama. Ok, so he's probably not really saying that on purpose, but I'm going to count it anyway.

Prayers

Quincy's starting to understand prayer a little more - she's started to really grasp that you can ask for specific things that you need. This morning I was getting ready to take her to her little preschool group, and we were talking about being nice to her friends. She was being a little ornery, as she sometimes is, so I said:

"You know Quincy, everyday I say a prayer and ask Heavenly Father to help you be nice to your friends."

She promptly went to the table, bowed her head, folded her arms and said:

"Heavenly Father, please help me be mean to my friends."

She made up for it tonight though, when she gave this one:

"Heavenly Father, please bless me that I love my mom. Please bless me that I love packages. Please bless me that I love visiting grandma and grandpa. Please bless me that I can be nice to my friends."

Looks like there's a little package hint for you there grandma! I really had to try hard to hold in my giggles.
Here's Q-U-I-N-C-Y makin Max laugh.

Movie Game, Expanding the Genre

Lacey's awsome. She got the line from My Big Fat Greek Wedding. I live firmly by that idea - that the neck can turn the head any way it wants to.
Now, I've decided to expand the genre a little bit, because, lets just be honest - Quincy rules the TV now, not me. So her type of movies are playing much more frequently than mine. DON'T PANIC - I will still specialize in chick-flicks, but every now and then I'll throw in something different to mix it up. Here we go:

"This much I knew, if you are what you eat then I only want to eat the good stuff. But to my dad....."
"Food is fuel - get picky about what you put in the tank then your engine is gonna die. Now shut-up and eat your garbage."

Good Luck!

Behavioral Breakthrough

Yesterday I took Quincy to childrens story time at the library, as I always do. After story time, Quincy headed straight for the game box and grabbed the little tin of dominoes, as she frequently does. She brought them over to the table and began playing - things were going well. Then a little girl spotted the dominoes, and came over to take a closer look. I began to feel tense. I saw her watching with interest, inching closer and closer. My palms got sweaty. Eventually she took a seat at the table, and began talking about the little rectangles. My heart started pouding. I began to visualize what was about to happen. The little girl would make a big deal of trying to get some dominoes, and Quincy would make a bigger deal of not sharing the dominoes - a deal involving calling names, scowls, and general bad behavior. I knew how it would play out. We've been working on sharing skills for a long time now, but as with any child, it's been a hard concept to grasp. I dread these kinds of situations, because I am never quite sure how to handle them, and I always end up feeling like I did a bad job. Usually I force Quincy to share, kicking and screaming the whole time, and then think to myself - 'I was just nicer and fairer to this other kid, what about my own kid?' What to do....Quincy did have the dominoes first, and she was playing nicely by herself. As I was frantically trying to compose a battle plan in my mind, Quincy grabbed a handful of the dominoes and said "Here mom, hand these to her." I nearly fell out of my little toddler-sized chair. In a total state of shock I passed over the dominoes. When the girl asked for a few more, Quincy kindly obliged. Wow. I'm still bursting with pride for her.

As I haved started along this path of motherhood, I have been struck by the little "nobody told me" moments. Nobody told me that I would cry the day Quincy outgrew her "coming home" outfit. Nobody told me how much I'd miss the 'just the two of us' closeness I had with her, once another baby came along. Nobody told me (or more likely I didn't believe them) how hard it is to teach about sharing. Nobody told me what a happy day it would be when I would realized that the concept was finally grasped.

I know there will probably be more sharing fights, on days when she's just not in the mood - but for now, I'm just so happy to know that she'll do it sometimes. Way to go Q!

Movie Game and Pathetic Confession

Jayne got the last movie line - Failure to Launch. Good job Jane - I thought it might be you who got that one.

Here's something new:
"Ma, Dad is so stubborn, what he says goes 'the man is the head of the house.'"

"Let me tell you something, the man is the head, but the woman is the neck, and she can turn the head any way she wants."

So here's my pathetic confession. The reason why I slacked on the movie game lately. Israel and I splurged with our tax refund and bought a Wii. This was a big thing for us - Israel came from a home that didn't have TV, and my family had TV but no video games. Yes, we are both pretty big rebels. Anyway, I got hooked on the game Pirates of the Carribbean. So hooked, that yesterday I conquered the whole game. At first I would play at night after the kids had gone to bed, but it made me so I couldn't sleep - I was thinking about fighting and hearing the music in my head all night. So then I started playing while they were napping in the afternoon. A pretty big waste of time - but then again it's good to have fun, right? Anyway, yesterday afternoon was the big day, I conquered the game. So now I'm back to blogging.

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.