Wednesday, December 29, 2010
However, today I found an online store called eShakti. Their tagline is "we design, you customize."
They will change the length to their shirts, dresses, skirts, and pants. They will make the sleeves any length you want. They will make a dress trimmer at the waist and bigger at the bust line. All for $7.50.
It's like the answer to the "if only this dress were two inches longer" dilemma. Or the solution to the "this would be really cute if only it had sleeves" problem.
One day when I have $54.95 (plus $7.50) to spend on a dress, I think this is what I will spend it on. Or perhaps this.
Monday, December 27, 2010
A couple of hours after waking up this morning Miriam started acting grumpy so I decided that she might want a nap. I got her all ready for nap time and went into the girls' room to put her down. Rachel came in to "help" me by turning off the light. She also closed the door when we left the room.
Miriam cried for a minute and then quieted down.
Approximately 45 minutes later I went to check on her. I crept up to her door, stealthily pur my hand on the knob, silently twisted, and...nothing. I grasped the handle and twisted again, this time a little more forcibly. Again, nothing. I wiggled the handle in both directions. It was stuck tight.
Sunday, December 26, 2010
One day this week he was over here for more than eight hours. He discovered Angry Birds on Andrew's iPod Touch and just disappeared. We'd find him in various locations around the house, quietly working on some ramdom Angry Birds level. Around bedtime I asked if Phillip was still here but no one could say for certain until I found him in our office, bouncing on my exercise ball in the corner, still playing Angry Birds. He (finally) went home but was over again the next day.
We had Josh and Carolee (our friends from Egypt) over for dinner and after we put the kids to bed we went downstairs to play MarioKart. While we were playing Phillip came downstairs.
"Touch me!" he said to Andrew.
Looking a little nervous, Andrew slowly raised his hand to touch Phillip's shoulder.
"Not like that!" shrieked Phillip, "iTouch me!"
Andrew dug the iPod out of his pocket and handed it to Phillip. Phillip flopped onto one of the couches and quickly dissolved into the world of Angry Birds. We hardly knew he was there.
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Back in November before Emily and Morgan had gotten married they decided that they'd spend Christmas at our house—"our" mostly meaning "Grandma and Grandpa's house"—though with the condition that Morgan, who is a dyed-in-the-wool Idaho boy, receive a chocolate orange in his stocking since that is one of his family's traditions.
Emily timidly approached Karen with Morgan's request and Karen told her that such a simple thing wouldn't be a burden. I must have had chocolate on the brain from watching Karen make chocolates all month long—she made red chocolate hearts and white chocolate temples to set out at Emily and Morgan's wedding reception and it took her from the time Emily got engaged to just a couple days before Emily got married to do it.
"What we should do," I suggested, "Is dip an orange in chocolate and then pretend we had no idea what he meant when he asked for a chocolate orange."
There was a bit of debate about how, exactly, this was to be done (should the orange be peeled and then dipped, should we tie a string around it and dip it?) but everyone agreed that it should be.
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Sunday, December 19, 2010
It was mass chaos.
Every girl wanted to be Mary so at one point we had two different scenes going on with two separate Marys and two separate Jesuses because we simply didn't have time to run through the story three times.
When I asked the kids to tell me what they had learned one of them responded, "In the real story there is only one Mary but we used two at a time. But there's only one. Just one Mary."
We also talked about the wise men—we brought in some beautiful boxes full of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. The gold was mostly fake but the frankincense and myrrh were real. We bought some when we were in Turkey. The kids liked the smell of myrrh but weren't too fond of frankincense.
"What gifts did the wise men bring to baby Jesus?" I asked during our review.
"Gold!" the children answered.
"And what else?"
The room was silent until one brave boy ventured to answer.
"Frankinsmyrrh!" he blurted out.
Saturday, December 18, 2010
- had two children
- lived in three different countries (USA, Jordan, Egypt) on three different continents (North America, Asia, and Africa)
- visited England, Italy, Austria, Turkey, UAE, Canada, Spain, Morocco, and Israel (and I went to Greece without Andrew)
- earned two bachelor's degrees and 1.25 master's degrees
- owned and sold one car
- been employed doing 10 or so odd "college" jobs
- find a job
- find Scott
- move...somewhere that is not our parents' house
I worked and watched children. Andrew worked on (and finally finished) his final—it only took him nine hours to write! After he sent it into the teacher we got ready to head out for the evening. Rachel went to my parents' house to play and Miriam stayed with Andrew's parents.
We had a whole list of things to do but didn't end up getting to everything on our list because we got hopelessly lost doing item #1—picking up Andrew's "present," a bunch of games I found listed on Freecycle.org. My great-uncle Clyde would have loved Freecycle. He was a penny-pincher to the very end—I even recall a story of him finding a box of cookware for Aunt Beulah at the dump that had never been used and giving it to her for Christmas. Of course, there's a chance that I am making all of this up since I haven't heard this story for a very long time. Still, if it was Uncle Clyde happened to have an affinity for junk then I'm sure he would have loved Freecycle (also, the internet).
Thursday, December 16, 2010
"I'm full of it!" she declared.
A round of snickers went around the table. Even Miriam laughed, though I don't think she got the joke.
Rachel wasn't too pleased when we told her that she had to wait for dinner to actually be over before she could be excused to watch a movie with Grandpa but she finished what was on her plate.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
We've had a few families move into our neighbourhood the past couple of weeks. In an effort to be socially outgoing I invited a little boy near Rachel's age over to play. Unfortunately when I picked her up from school she remarked that her head hurt. She grabbed my hand and we started walking home—her hands felt like ice—but after walking past a few houses she said she didn't feel good enough to walk anymore so I hoisted her up—she's heavy—so that I could carry her. I kissed her forehead; it was burning up.
She wouldn't touch her lunch.
I called to cancel the play date.
Then Rachel asked if she could watch a movie. I told her she could but that I had to take care of lunch first. When I went to check on her I found that she had curled up on my bed and was fast asleep.
Considering the last time she took voluntarily took a nap was in the pre-mortal existence she must really not be feeling well.
And to think we just went through the rounds at our house.
Here we go again.
"And what's significant about that date?" she asked.
I fumbled for an answer. It was not a question I was expecting to hear.
"It was, uh, just a convenient date," I started, "I mean, they were going to wait to get married in May on the day they met but that would make for a long engagement so instead they just picked a day in December."
"Well, there might not be anything significant abou it now but it will be her anniversary!" my friend Reenie observed with a smile.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Dear, little Emily is getting married in 10 days.
When Andrew and I got married she wasn’t even old enough to date (the youth of our church are discouraged from dating until they are sixteen years old and Emily was only fifteen). Now, five years later, she’s in my shoes: Twenty (and a half) and counting down the days until her wedding day.
It’s a little odd that a) Emily is getting married and b) Andrew and I have been married for five years! Well, we will have been married for five years on our anniversary, which is on the sixteenth. Both of us have been so wrapped up in everything else (Emily’s wedding plans, the end-of-the-semester rush, etc.) that we both entirely forgot about our anniversary until Facebook reminded us.
Last Saturday we went up to Salt Lake to see the lights at Temple Square. They’re beautiful and rather worth the drive. They might even be worth enduring the cold for (though it hasn’t been too cold lately; it’s been raining instead of snowing).
Friday, December 10, 2010
So we're sitting here and Andrew goes, "Oh, no! What's that? What the?! Did you...? No, way!"
"What?" I asked.
"There's a sock in my pants! Someone had to have planted it there! You did this!"
"Are you serious? There's a sock in your pants again? It wasn't me. For real. It wasn't."
He pulled out one of his own dirty, white socks—identical to the one he found yesterday.
"Well," he guffawed, "I found the other one!"
What am I going to do with this boy? He's so silly.
What am I going to do with our room? It's a mess.
What am I going to do with myself tomorrow when I can't drag myself out of bed?
Wednesday, December 08, 2010
He sheds his suit right before going to bed and leaves it crumpled up on the floor so he can step right back into it the following morning. He's had presentation after presentation, paper after paper, project after project and everything culminates today in what shall hence and forever be called "mega-presentation/paper/project day."
What is mega-presentation/paper/project day? I'll tell you.
It's a twenty-five minute powerpoint presentation followed by an open Q&A session explaining the five "phases" of a project with an accompanying 10-20 page paper per phase. That's what mega-presentation/paper/project day is—a whole lot of work.
When Andrew rushed through the kitchen yesterday, pecking me on the lips on his way to the office, and exclaiming, "Man, I'm so busy!" his sister asked if he had procrastinated. No, no procrastination here. Just business. Andrew put the girls to bed last night shortly after I left for the theater and he didn't even notice when I came home (at 10:45 PM). Seriously. He was working that diligently. It's like he's not even here. I am so happy for the end of the semester. No, really.
Anyway, we went to bed late last night after he had finished with everything he could finish and this morning...he slept in. Big time. He woke up when he should have been gone. So he jumped out of bed, into his suit, and out the door before I could even say "Good Morning!"
After he was gone I got the girls up for the day, rushed Rachel to school, took out the garbage, ate breakfast, and then checked my email. There was a short message from Andrew:
So during one of our practice presentations just now, I was presenting and suddenly felt something crawling down my leg. It was freaky. I rushed through and finished my part to discover that it was a dirty white sock.That email alone proves the chaos that reigns in our household but even funnier was the subject of his message: DST.
DST is a family joke—it stands for "dirty sock treatment." Andrew's dad has long-standing tradition of threatening to rub his dirty socks on his children's faces. And sometimes he does rub his day-old socks on his children's faces. And sometimes when they come home to do laundry he puts his socks in with their clothes so that they have to come back home again to give them back to him.
So Andrew just gave himself the DST. I wonder whose sock it was...
Rachel has advanced enough in her school-going career that she no longer wakes up at 4:00 in the morning all eager-beaver. She still loves school but has come to understand that no one wants her waking up the whole house at 0'dark-thirty. This morning we slept in until 8:30 which is bad because we must be out the door by 8:50 if she's going to get to school on time.
By some miracle (aka: Grandma) we made it and had a relatively blissful morning until I picked Rachel up from school. Then things got ugly.
Tuesday, December 07, 2010
Anyway, he had loaded up his iPod with "rockin' music," and said we were going to be the party car. Unfortunately for him, none of the songs he put on his iPod were Christmas songs so we held a vote and quickly ruled him out. Luckily Auntie Sarah was in the car with us and she knew exactly which radio station had Christmas carols playing. We never listen to the radio anymore.
On the way home we turned the Christmas carols back on.
"Daddy," Rachel requested, "Do you have Frosty the Snowman?"
Monday, December 06, 2010
Andrew stayed up late finishing a project, too.
When we finally went to bed I said, "Oh, man! Tomorrow is Monday. That means I have to work. I don't know that I have any motivation to work."
"You're working to send me to Ghana! There's some motivation!"
"Oh, goody. I get to work my tail-end off so you can go to Ghana. See how motivated I am about that?"
I showed him my best that-doesn't-motivate-me face.
"You're working to take our whole family to Washington, DC, for an internship this summer!"
Hopefully. But have I mentioned we've been passing a cold around our family? It's my turn with it.
"That's a little more motivation. But I just don't feel good."
"But you're a Mechanical Turk! You have to go to work!"
"You probably should just give up trying to compliment me," I told him, "Ever."
Saturday, December 04, 2010
Thursday, December 02, 2010
Me: Eel? Now, that is a new one. I wonder if it means anything like "eek" or if it means something entirely different.
Andrew: That should have been eek.
Wednesday, December 01, 2010
I used to live there and I don't really understand how I ever survived because when I went outside today here it was 27°F above zero (-3°C) and I was freezing. I bundled up my girls (and myself) with sweaters under their winter coats, snow boots, hats, and mittens. And we were only walking around the corner.
Today the coldest place on earth is Chandlar Lake, Alaska, where it's -42°F (-41°C). I'm very glad I don't live there today, though I have been in the negative forties. It's just no fun.
I really dislike winter.
In Egypt we would pass off everything and anything awful that happened with a little sigh, exclaiming, "Oh...Egypt." Today I'm feeling out of sorts with America. So many things have happened recently that are absolutely nettling and about which I don't share a common opinion with my "neighbours" and so I'm feeling glum. "Oh...America."
Sometimes I wonder why I'm here.
But then I remember that the only other "home" I have is akin to living on Antarctica—a place I swore I'd never go but now that I know that sometimes it's on par with places I've lived like (Russia and Canada) I may as well go. Hear that, Andrew, you win: we can go to Antarctica.
During Antarctica's summer, naturally.
Because I'm not setting foot anywhere near Antarctica during the winter.
I don't think I could sigh, "Oh...Antarctica," effectively enough to communicate my feelings about Antarctic winters. Not that I know anything about Antarctic winters. But I can imagine.