Random facts....Sunday night edition

So, it's been awhile since I posted and I want to post something new.

I just don't know what. So I decided to just write some random facts that you may or may not know about me.

I'm the first-born grandchild on my mom's side. I cry everytime I talk to or really even about my Grandmama. She's the feistiest 84-year old you will ever meet.

I was going to say that I have never lived East of the Mississippi River (in the US), but then remembered I lived in Illinois for three months, while on my mission. And that totally counts.

When I was little, I cried if the mixed vegetables didn't have lima beans. My sister cried if they did have lima beans. When my sister had an overnight stay in the hospital, I asked if we could have lima beans for dinner.

I always think of the perfect item to put on my Christmas wish list the day after Christmas. But since I never know where I put my lists, I don't remember until the day after the next Christmas what I wanted.

I curled my hair a little different today for church. Not so different I haven't done it like this before, but different than I have been doing it recently. One of the kids in my class was so freaked out, she kept remarking that I looked totally different. In fact, she said, "I almost don't even know who you are!" I guess I haven't looked too great recently at church!

A few years ago, I bought a 7-foot Christmas tree at Costco. It was beautiful. I took it out to my car and it would not fit. No matter what I did, it wouldn't go in my car. So I returned it. When I went back with Darrell and his friend in a bigger car, Costco was out of Christmas trees. So we bought a bookcase instead. Once assembled, I realized the only way it will fit out of the bedroom it's in, is through the window. I think I have a problem with space assessment.

One day, while driving my parents' 1981 Chevrolet Citation, the muffler fell off in the middle of the street. I didn't realize until my dad asked me where it was. The next morning.

I love eating breakfast for dinner. Darrell does not. He usually wins that debate.

Last night, we went to Quizno's for dinner. While eating our potato chips, I asked Darrell if he would keep a chip if it looked like a specific shape. He said he would keep a potato chip if it looked exactly like Texas or a perfect square. Just a few chips later, I came across one that looked suspiciously like the United States. I ate it without even trying to keep it.

Don't ever give me a souvenir pencil. I have pencils from the mid-80s that I haven't used. I'm sure the erasers are hard as rocks.

A few months ago, I took all the books out of the bookcase mentioned above and re-arranged them by color. It looks kinda fancy.

I'm in a book club, but have only read about half of the books. I have to choose the book we read in January and I'm under a lot of stress. I'm more of a panic reader than a pleasure reader. Suggestions are welcome.

I hate the flooring in my kitchen. It is 8-inch white, slippery tile, that is supposed to look like marble. It was ruined when we had a slab leak four years ago. We were going to replace it, but haven't gotten around to it yet. I didn't know that when we re-painted three and a half years ago, so I didn't use a drop cloth. I wasn't careful while painting. I really hate my flooring.

My new favorite song

Thanksgiving

Wow! I can't believe this month is nearly half over. Why does time go so fast now?

I figured I need to make a little list of my Thanksgiving dinner plans, and this is as good a place as any.

We (and I do mean Darrell and I) will make the following:
Smoked turkey breast
Smoked turkey leg (Darrell's dad will be visiting and only likes dark meat and we only like white meat)
Cornbread stuffing (all from scratch)
Mashed potatoes (with lots of butter and some lumps--so you can tell they are real)
Candied sweet potatoes (no marshmallows on these)
Green beans with shallots
Rolls (probably Mrs. Rhodes', but I may surprise myself)
Pretzel salad ('cause it's so dang delicious!)
Pumpkin pie (with caramel whipped cream)
And maybe another pie (I'm the only one who eats dessert in our household, so I only plan to do this if we share dessert with friends)

And we will be purchasing Irish butter since it is so much more delicious than the regular kind. You wouldn't think it makes such a difference, but it does.

Oh, I'm hungry just thinking about all this good food.

My 10 Newest Guilty Pleasures

Peanut butter Hershey kisses. They are a little piece of heaven in foil.

Going to a restaurant on Halloween night. No lines and no trick-or-treaters.

FlashForward. Each episode leaves me wishing for a two-hour episode.

Irish butter. Just when you thought butter couldn't possibly taste any better, it does.

Picnik.com. I could spend hours just playing around with photos. Ok, not only could I, but I do!

Only half-way done..... Let's see, what else?

Garlic and herb havarti. I just finished the last bit a couple of days ago. I guess I need to get some more. Shucks!

Cake wrecks. I can't believe some of the cakes that are out there. Hours of fun can be had by everyone.

Mentholatum. Ok...not necessarily a new one, but every fall I use it to keep my lips from cracking and falling off. I love the stuff!

World Market. Again, not new, but if I had a free 10-minute shopping spree in that store, I could do some serious damage to its inventory.

Watching this:
I especially love the dog reading a book while wearing glasses.

What are your guilty pleasures?

I love shopping...

and HAD to buy these today:



to go with this:



I hear you crying since you don't have some just like them!

On this day, in 1970....

the world was changed forever.

Darrell was born!



Doesn't he look cute?

Ok...that so isn't him. It's some baby that was on google images.

But I don't have a photo of him as a baby.

Or really, except for some wedding photos.

But, he was a cute baby.

And he was a great kid. If you can overlook his love for animals.

He got his first job when he was ten or eleven and really hasn't stopped working since then. (And for those who have trouble subtracting past the hundreds'-place....he's thirty-nine!).

He's a great son. He is the mirror image of his dad. Which is a good thing. He was his mom's little helper growing up and I know that she is proud of the man he is today.



If you don't know him, get to know him. And if you do know him, wish him a happy birthday!



I'm pretty blessed to be his wife! Love you tons, Mr. Lund!

Two truths and a lie

You know the game...two truths and a lie....

We're going to play it here. I'm going to list several groups of two truths and a lie. You decide which are the lies.

There could very possibly be a prize for the winner.

The lies are in grey (red totally doesn't show up and would make my pet peeve list)....and the winners are announced at the end.

1-Vacations:
a-I surfed in Hawaii.
b-I hiked in the Ozarks.
c-I skiied in the Alps.

2-Foods:
a-I hate tomatoes but love salsa.
b-I love oranges but hate orange juice.
c-I love apples but hate applesauce.

3-Majors I declared in college:
a-Elementary education.
b-Landscape horticulture management.
c-General education.

4-Callings I had in a singles' ward:
a-Activities committee chairperson
b-Bulletin board coordinator
c-Gospel Doctrine teacher

5-Jobs:
a-Grocery bagger
b-Ricks College janitor
c-Late-night inventory taker

6-Car "issues" I have had:
a-Muffler fell off car and I kept driving
b-Door wouldn't stay latched and I had to hold it closed
c-Windshield wipers broke in the "on" position

7-Concerts:
a-Cheap Trick
b-Anne Murray
c-Depeche Mode

8-Pixar movies I have not seen that everyone else has:
a-Toy Story
b-Cars
c-Finding Nemo

9-Classes I took in high school:
a-Cooking
b-Badminton
c-Printing

10-Other car "issues" I have had (yeah, I've had a lot!):
a-Transmission failed on road trip and I could only use 1st and 3rd
b-Two flat tires on road trip in my pre-cell phone days
c-Car would die for hours if I didn't continuously feed it gas

Leave a comment with your answers by Wednesday, and the first person with all correct answers will get a prize.

And that ain't a lie!

Time's up....The winner is Just Pam (my mom). She got an amazing 8 correct. Emily got 5 right. Diana managed 3, even though she sorta cheated. I AM going to give Linda a prize since she actually got every single one wrong. I think it might be a gift certificate to spend time with me. :)

Blog Pet Peeves

I spend probably an hour a day (I know, I have no life!) reading blogs. Some are written by people I know and hang out with, some are written by people I know and don't really keep touch with very well, and some are written by total strangers.

I realize that my blog is FAR from perfect, but there are a few things that really get under my skin about some of the blogs that I peruse.

PS-The blogs of the few people who read my blog don't bother me. Just so you know.

Listed below are some of my top pet peeves. They are listed in no particular order. Ok. They are in order--the order that I think of them.

• People who have great big pictures of their kids on their banner. With dirty faces and snot dripping out their noses. Gross! Do you really want to publicize that you can't clean the kids for the photo that is going to tell the world who you and your family are? One word--icky!
• People who constantly brag about how wonderful their life is. "Oh, DH and I went to a meadow, where a host of angels were singing to us. We had a picnic that I had whipped up--nothing special--just some imported cheese and crackers; a fruit basket with fruit I picked up at the farmer's market; sandwiches on bread I had just baked, from wheat I had just cracked, with either meats I had cured myself, or (for the vegetarian bloggers) with veggies straight from my garden; a perfectly delicious, fat-free, sugar-free, taste-full dessert, from a recipe I just thought up; and lemonade that was just the right tart plus sweet. We ate the delicious meal I prepared and then DH went back to his perfect job and I went back home to my 8 smiling children. Then, for dinner, we ate a Cafe Rio! The perfect ending of a perfect day." GAG! Now, I don't want to read all about the woes of someone's life, but REALLY? Your life isn't that perfect!
• People who have far too many ads on their blog. Is the 13 cents a year that you make worth annoying everyone who visits your blog?
• People who take horrible photos and try to pass them off as good. If it's not in focus, I probably don't want to see it. If you can't see the peoples' faces, no one cares. If you are taking a photo or more for each and every step in a recipe that has 517 steps, you've lost my attention.
• People who create those buttons for blogs that no one reads. While I'm at it...people who post "awards" their blogs have won. From other blogs no one has heard of.
• People who have added so many gadgets to their blog, it takes five minutes to load. I have moved on....
• People who have "cute" names for their family members to keep the pervs away. If you are that worried, make your blog private. Or don't blog. Plus, pervs have a way of finding kids, even if Katie is "Koko" on your blog.
• People who don't fill out any of the "About Me" links. Sometimes I want to see quickly if your blog is worth reading. The "About Me" link is very useful in that quest.
• People who have a really annoying background (either the color, design, or music). If it hurts to read, I won't.
• People who are obsessed with Twilight.
• People who drone on and on about how horrible their life is. If you don't like it, why do you think I will?

So, there are some of my pet peeves. That really went on longer than I anticipated. Sorry for rambling. I hope that my blog doesn't make your list of pet peeves. :)

Brain Worm

For some reason, this song has been going through my head this morning.

I haven't heard it for years, so where it came from this morning, I don't know.



If you don't know the source, it is Sesame Street from the 70s.

Remember when you were a little kid?

And time seemed to D R A G?
Yeah, me too.
Why can't we bring back those days?

Just the other day, I was thinking, "Ok, so it's springtime and soon it'll be summer."
That was just last week. Summer is all-but-gone and I don't think I accomplished any of my goals.

Pooh!

So, here is a list of some of my goals for the rest of the year.
Hopefully, by putting them out for the world to see (as if THAT many people read my blog!), I will be more motivated to achieve them!

Finish my Summer of Service bags I committed to sew.
Decorate for Halloween/Fall/Thanksgiving.
Decorate for Christmas by the end of Thanksgiving weekend.
Make some Christmas gifts before Thanksgiving.
Put away my Fourth of July decorations before Halloween.
Clean the guest room. Again!
Go to the gym once a week--or more--but no less than once a week.
Eat more veggies.
Use food storage food once a week. Chocolate chips don't count.
Get my haircut.
Fit into my cute denim slacks.

Okay...I don't want to get too carried away. I tend to make so many goals that I don't know where to start and end up doing none of them. I think that's a pretty good list.

Feel free to check up on me to help me achieve my goals.

PS--What goals are you working on?

Ain't people watching grand!

Darrell was away for the past couple of days, so I got to go to the airport and pick him up.

Don't you just love going to the airport and seeing all the people? There are some real weirdos out there!

I am always amazed at what people wear on airplanes. It used to be that people got dressed up to fly. It was an event. Of course, I'm talking about the forties and fifties when people got dressed up to go anywhere.

Now, however, just about anything goes!

In the twenty minutes I spent waiting for Darrell, I saw people dressed in:

• What I would wear around the house and to bed....sloppy sweats, an over- or under-sized t-shirt, and flip-flops.
• Jeans and a casual shirt (my travel wear of choice).
• Business attire (most likely the business travelers).
• Skanky wear--normally characterized by the dress that covers not nearly enough, the super high heels, and lots of skin. Usually overly tanned skin.

And then there was the coup de gras!

There was a man, about 60 years old, who was in above average shape for a man of his age. He had gray hair, that was groomed rather nicely. Not bad, you're thinking. Oh, but wait, there's more!

He was wearing a shiny, white, Lycra, tight-fitting, half-shirt. It was pretty fancy. Keep reading....

He was wearing bright red, super tight, Lycra, pants. The front of which was just covering enough of his parts to keep them legal. Under his pants, he wore a thong. I know this because it was more than peeking above his pants. That's not all!

He was wearing some serious high black strappy heels. You know...lady shoes. Higher than I would have ever worn, even in my high-heel-wearing-days. I'm guessing he got them from a mail order place, because I really don't think they sell his size in stores.

I tried not to stare, but who am I kidding? He was a FREAK!

I wish I had taken a picture of Darrell with this man in the background. I fear no one will believe this story without documentation.

But there are a lot of people who were at the Terminal 4 baggage claim area at about 7:50 this evening who would back me up.

Tortillas

Just a quick little post about tortillas.

Yep, you heard right. Tortillas.

I love 'em!

I love a really good flour tortilla--hot and steamy. Darrell's mom made really good flour tortillas. Sometimes, she wouldn't make them exactly round. Those were the ones Darrell called Texas tortillas. I got her recipe for them. I'll have to make them soon. When I feel the need for a carb-fest.

I also love tortilla chips. Put a bowl in front of me, and I can't stop until they are gone. Especially when they are hot from the fryer. Mmm, mmm!

But most of all, I love corn tortillas. My favorites are from Rubio's. They have a lime-y flavor, which, I'll tell ya what....is really delicious. That's where we ate tonight. If there's a break-in at the local Rubio's, and only corn tortillas go missing, know it was me. And I will have eaten them all!

I am loved....

If you ever hear me complaining that no one loves me, remind me to read this post. If it doesn't remind me that I am loved, I don't know what will.....

Last Friday, I went to visit my most adorable niece, Malena. I may have mentioned her before. My mom, sister (mother to Malena) and Malena picked me up at the airport. I haven't seen Malena in just about seven months and to a nearly four year old, that might as well be an eternity. But as soon as she saw me, even with no prompting from an adult, she recognized me and came running, with outstretched arms. She was my constant companion for the next three and a half days!

She held my hand in the parking lot, everywhere we went. At Costco, Kohl's, and Sunflower Market. We played all sorts of fun games together. We played with all her "kids" (aka stuffed animals). We had tea parties while drinking water from plastic cups with plastic spoons. We read stories of a daddy that is afraid of monsters and a giant that becomes king. We had a parade throughout the house, using a drum and noisy-makers. She let me use her barrettes and sleep in her big girl bed. She rode her bike in the neighborhood and we followed her "sister" (a middle school-aged girl walking in the neighborhood) around the block. We had such a fun time.

She turned four and had a princess birthday party. She planned it months ago. It had to be pink and purple. She insisted on a pinata. Her cake was chocolate and included cup cakes. Her mom spent hours making the cake--a pink castle with glittery purple turrets. Malena woke up and was so disappointed it wasn't chocolate. She jumped up and down when she saw her pinata hanging up outside.

As I was getting ready to leave, I told her good-bye. She burst into tears and told me not to go. I told her I had to go home....Darrell was waiting for me and missed me, my house missed me, I had to go to work. She told me she wanted to go with me. I reminded her that her mommy and daddy would miss her. She told me that Grandma and Pop could live with her mommy and daddy. I told her I would come and visit her again.

I called her when I landed back in Arizona and she was excited to talk to me. I told her I got home okay and Darrell was happy to see me. I told her I would call her again and visit her later.

Today, her grandma told me Malena wouldn't sleep in her bed, since Aunt Stephanie was going to sleep in her bed. This morning, she was convinced I was coming back and she should keep her bed waiting for me.

I guess she really does love me!

I also have friends at home who love me....my friend Lucinda called me several times this weekend, with no return call from me. She drove past my home and saw my car in the driveway--when it should have been at work. I wasn't available on Facebook, which was rather uncharacteristic. I didn't show up at church and didn't have a substitute for my Primary class. I guess I forgot to tell her I was going out of town. She was so worried, she and her husband came over to our house during Sunday School. Darrell was home, but in no mood to answer the door. But she was persistent. What Darrell didn't know was, she had talked to a homicide detective in our ward who advised her to check out the house and call the police if there was a foul odor (good thing I washed the dishes before I left!). Darrell finally answered and Lucinda felt relief immediately. We weren't murdered by local drug lords! I'm guessing from now on, I will give my friends a better idea of where I am if I go out of town!

But, I know I'm loved.

PS--I'll post photos of my weekend when I figure out how to transfer them from my camera!

Hi Malena!

I don't know if I've mentioned my niece, Malena, before. If I haven't, sorry.

She is the cutest thing ever!

Here are some of the things that endear her to me:

At Christmas, she asked me, "Aunt Sephernie. Where's your hubsband?"

She and her dad (former Army special ops guy) went to Costco. She saw the jewelry counter and said, "Oh, look at the sparklies!" Her dad said, "The sparklies are for mommies." Malena replied rather matter-of-factly, "Little girls like sparklies, too!"

My sister and brother-in-law have birthdays ten days apart in April. Malena got to "plan" their birthdays. I think she got to choose where they ate, what kind of cake they got, and the presents. Malena's birthday is in July. She turns four. Malena has been planning her birthday since April. (Imagine this in little girl voice--I do a pretty good version in person) "I want a princess party. And it will be pink and purple and red. I want a pinata. I want a chocolate cake with cupcakes. I want to have [names of ten friends from church] to come to my party. I want [giant list of toys that she wants--longer than the receipt you get at Fry's when they have their case sale]."

Yesterday, I got an email from my sister. The subject was "hi." I opened it. It read, "i love you malena" She is practicing her typing. You can't start too soon.

One night, as she was saying her prayers before bed, she said, "Bless mommy to keep me safe. Bless daddy to be nice and give me fruit salad."

She obviously loves fruit (see above). My sister has told her, "Malena, you can have more fruit after you eat all your chocolate cake." Jennilyn (the said sister) may be the only person in the history of the world to utter those words.

The Easter Bunny came to her house while she was at church. It had snowed that day. She told her parents that her daddy had to be the Easter Bunny since there weren't any bunny tracks in the snow. Do you think she'll fall for the tooth fairy?

That little girl is as cute as a button. And I love buttons. I am going to visit her for her princess birthday party in two weeks. I can hardly wait.

The Sound Track of My Days

Remember when you were a teenager and you would record the radio on your crappy AM/FM radio? And you would hit play, stop, rewind, play so you could figure out the words to all your favorite songs?

I even would use my dad's fancy Pioneer head phones, turn the music up really loud, and write down the lyrics (or what I thought the lyrics were).

Well...I still do that.

Sorta.

Now, what I do goes something like this:

I'm watching TV and hear an interesting song. I grab the closest pen and paper and the remote. I rewind the TV (I really LOVE my DVR!) and frantically write down as many of the lyrics as I possibly can.

Next, I run into our home office and pull up Google.

I type in as many of the words that I could decipher and hit enter.

Most of the time, I find the song this way.

If not, I type something like this "song in Law and Order 5/24/09."

I love this! I have been introduced to some of my favorite artists/songs this way.

Hem-Half Acre (a Liberty Mutual commercial)



Fisher-Beautiful Life (Toyota commercial)



Landon Pigg-Falling in Love in a Coffee Shop (Some car commercial-I think. Nope a diamond commercial)



Teddy Geiger-For You I Will (Love Monkey)

Craig Cardiff-Smallest Wingless (I don't know where I heard this, but it was recently--I remember now--it was blog I read about a stillborn baby)



I could go on and on. But I won't.

Suffice it to say, I'm glad for modern technology.

A little shameless self-promotion

Hey, what's a blog if it isn't a little self-centered?

So, today is my birthday and I thought I would briefly recount some of my memorable birthdays.

The first that I can remember is my 3rd birthday. Back in 1973. And, yes, that really is the year I turned 3. I KNOW! Who'da thought? I don't know if I remember the birthday as much as we have photos of it, so I remember the photos. I had a smiley face birthday. We played games--probably ring-a-round-the-roses, London Bridge, and button-button. We got big, yellow, smiley face suckers. I sort of remember they didn't really have a flavor, other than sugar. My mom made a round chocolate cake with a smiley face on it. It was a fancy birthday.

The next memorable birthday was my fifth. If I could take back one action from my childhood it would be not putting the Kirby vacuum away. You see, a couple of days before my fifth birthday, I refused to put the vacuum away. Not because I was being a bad kid. I think I was just procrastinating. My mom had asked me several times to put it away and I was being slow. She finally told me that if I didn't put it away right then, she would cancel my birthday party. Yeah, right! SO....when she told me she was canceling the party, I remember sobbing, "Look Mom, I'm putting the vacuum away! No mom, you can't do this! Mom look, the vacuum is put away." No luck. No party! I just realized that perhaps some other moms may have been mad--they had to try to return birthday gifts to the store. Some other moms were probably pretty happy--they could use my example to get their kids to clean up.

When I turned eight, I had a pretty good birthday. The theme was a paper doll party and all the kids were supposed to create a paper dress and wear it to the party. Most of the kids had butcher paper tracings of a dress that they had pinned to their regular clothes. My mom was so cool--she sewed (with real thread and everything) a dress for me and my sister out of variegated tissue paper. I think she used a pinafore pattern. We were the best dressed! I still remember my friend Julie Dean brought her uninvited brother--Jason Dean, who gave me a sling shot. I was a girlie girl (hard to believe, I know!) and wasn't too thrilled with a sling shot. My mom told me it was probably what he wanted the most and that's why he gave it to me. My brother, Todd, who had just turned three, gave me a Slinky. He cried when he realized he didn't get to play with it, so my mom had me give it to him. She told me she would buy me another one. Do you think I will get one for my birthday this year?

On my twelfth birthday, I had a swimming party. I got to have more swimming parties than anyone else in my family since I have a summer birthday. Todd's birthday is also in the summer, but he's a boy and for some reason, they don't like swimming parties as much. I think this was the year that Shelly Espersen's hair turned bright green. You know those really blond girls whose hair turns green after a summer of swimming? Well, for some reason, Shelly's hair went from toe-head blond to sea-foam green that after noon. To keep from having everyone see her bright green hair, she would hold her breath and stay underwater as much as possible. I think that only made matters worse. We ended up leaving a little early to save her from too much embarassment.

We moved from Germany to Tucson a couple of weeks before my sixteenth birthday. My mom had a party with all the teenagers in my ward before we moved. It was at the church in the cultural hall on a Saturday. I don't remember too much about it, but I remember it was good to see my friends before moving. Then, on my real birthday, we were staying in the Radisson Inn on Speedway in Tucson, while my parents looked for a house. We would get up, eat breakfast at the buffet (I got sausage links, bacon, french toast, and strawberries every morning), swim to our hearts' content, and watch TV--we were obsessed with multiple channels and commercials (AFN--the military's version of TV consisted of one channel, no commercials, and older programming). The night of my sixteenth birthday, I got to choose where we ate--Pizza Hut or KFC were the choices. I chose Pizza Hut. I think I even got to have the last piece of pizza.

Throughout 1996, I told all my friends they were invited to come to my surprise 26th birthday party. It was my little joke. Well, my friends and family planned a party for me. It was at John and Matt's condo and almost every one of my friends in Tucson was there. It was a great surprise and was so much fun. I should start planning surprise parties for myself again.

The next year, I had moved to Phoenix. My birthday was on a Monday evening and as was the tradition in my ward, the fifth Monday of the month was a dance. My roommate, Arlissa, had made a french silk pie, from scratch--we used to make all sorts of fancy food--and we needed to find people to come over and help us eat it. I asked a few people over, including a guy we had just met--Darrell Lund. He came over and ate his entire piece of chocolate french silk pie and the rest, they say, is history. The funniest part of that story is that Darrell hates: 1-Chocolate; 2-French; 3-Silk; and 4-Pie. Poor guy. I can see it as if it were yesterday. He really was trying to be polite, but I think he may have thrown up a little. :)

Obviously, these aren't all of my birthday memories, but a few that stand out. Thank you all for the wishes that you sent me and allowing me to talk about myself.

XOXO
Stephanie
a/k/a "The Birthday Girl"

Happy Father's Day

Just a quick Happy Father's Day to my dad!
He's the hardest worker I know.
A couple of years ago, he came to my house.
For his birthday.
And worked in the attic.
In May.
In Arizona.
Thanks, Dad, for all you do!
I love you!

Intervention

I need to tell you all that I am an addict and won't be around as much for awhile.

I am breaking away and will complete a twelve-step program.

I hope to be clean and sober when I return.

It won't be easy, but I know that in the long run, my life will be better.

I'll be able to spend more time journaling on my blog.

I'll spend more time with friends and family.

I'll be a better wife.

My health will improve.

I'll conserve more electricity.

I appreciate your understanding and thoughts on my behalf.

PS...I am trying to cut out Bejeweled Blitz and Bouncing Balls from my Facebook activities.

It's a miracle!

(Cue: Chorus of angels singing)

A few days ago, as I was listening to the Today Show, trying to wake up for the day, I heard something that proves that scientists must have recently discovered the cure for every disease, ailment, and ill known to man.

You may be asking yourself why you have not heard the same news I did.

Well, if we're being completely honest, I didn't hear it ON the Today Show. It was a commercial DURING the Today Show.

And no one actually SAID that scientists had discovered the cure-all.

The commercial was for a prescription that you can get from a doctor that will change your life.

If you have "eyelash hypotrichosis," the "medical" name for inadequate or sparse eyelashes.

Yes. You heard me correctly. You can now get a topical prescription to make your eyelashes longer and fuller. So now for, get this, a mere $120 a bottle, you can achieve the same result as my $6 mascara. And you can do it by using a drug that was intended to treat glaucoma, a real disease.

I googled "prescription for fuller eyelashes" and came across a real "news story" where the "reporter" interviewed the wife of an opthamologist who is quoted as saying what can only be described as one of the craziest things I have heard in a long time: “And I always wanted longer lashes but eyelash extensions are just too expensive.”

REALLY?!? I didn't even know that was a possibility. So, to find out more about this insane option, I googled "cost for eyelash extensions." Who knew that for only $250 you could get eyelash extensions that last two months and that the "refills" are only $50? That's $500 a year. And it takes about two hours to be extended. And you can't use mascara while the extensions are attached. Well, I would hope not, for all that time and money!

In researching this, I went to the website for the drug. The website also provides valuable information about Juviderm and Natrelle--the latest in Botox and boob jobs. Apparently, those afflicted with "eyelash hypotrichosis" also must suffer from "parenthesis" a/k/a wrinkles and improper "breast aesthetics."

Wow, the website gets better and better! They have the "Evolution of Lash Enhancers," which is a hall of fame of historic moments from 4000 BC--yeah 6000 years ago!--to the present time. There is a before/after gallery, including Brooke Shields' journey from sparse, anemic eyelashes to full, supple, and sexy eyelashes.

Oh. And if you dig deep enough, you will come across the warnings:

Important Safety Information

• May cause eyelid skin darkening which may be reversible, and there is potential for increased brown iris pigmentation which is likely to be permanent.
  
• There is a potential for hair growth to occur in areas where the solution comes in repeated contact with skin surfaces.
• If you develop or experience any eye problems or have eye surgery, consult your doctor immediately.
• The most common side effects are an itching sensation in the eyes and/or eye redness.
• You are encouraged to report negative side effects of prescription drugs to the FDA.

So, just to get this straight, your eyelids can turn dark, your iris can turn brown, you can grow hair anywhere that has contact with the solution (don't accidentally drip some on your upper lip), you can develop eye problems, your eyes will itch and turn red, and Oh-yeah-we-don't-necessarily-know-all-the-side-effects-so-tell-the-FDA-about-anything-you-experience.

Or you can keep wearing mascara. Which, when I searched google, doesn't come with an FDA warning.

It's a good thing the drug companies have this "eyelash hypotrichosis" under control.

It's my brother's birthday!

Crap! I forgot to call him....hopefully this will make up for that! Plus, I intend to call him tomorrow so that his birthday lasts longer.

I have honestly been thinking of Todd all week...trying to not forget his birthday. And all day as I wrote the date (a bijillion times at work), I thought, "I need to make sure to call Todd." Well, we all know how the best laid plans work out....

I was almost five when Todd was born. I remember that he was about 10 days overdue. When you are nearly five years old and your brother is ten days overdue, it's pretty traumatic...he is supposed to appear and be your good friend right away. I'm sure my mom REALLY was wanting Todd to make his appearance. I say that he wanted to share his birthday month with me.



I still remember what I wore the day we went to pick Todd up at the hospital. Yep, that's the outfit. It was a hand-me-down from a neighbor girl and I thought it was marvelous!

Jennilyn (my just-younger-than-me-sister) and I really were happy to have a brother. We got to boss him around and play the mom!




But he was a good sport. I remember thinking that his hair grew so fast. My dad usually cut Todd's hair in the back yard. I thought that was so cool...I always had to go to the hair dresser's to get MY hair cut.

























He was the biggest of my mom's five kids. He weighed in at 9 pounds and some large amount of ounces. Look how chubby he was! Man, I wish people thought my fat thighs and double chin are as cute as his!



Unfortunately for him, he grew up in a family of four sisters and one brother--him. But he was a good sport. And he would let us dress him up in our dress-ups (and we had LOTS!), including hats, make-up, hair-dos, and fur stoles.




Or sometimes, he was the Easter bunny.



Just look at how well he cleaned up, though.



He has always been able to make anything. He spent hours and hours building huge Lego constructions. He built dioramas that would shame most museums. He won numerous awards for his art projects--from elementary school through high school. He made jewelry, silk screens, silk screen machines. Pretty much anything he wanted. And sometimes, it was edible--like the little man seen here.



Yep! That's an apple man, with kiwi skin for hair, clove eyes, and apple peel lips.

And now, he is the owner of his own custom-made bike shop. You should check out his website. But be prepared to be amazed.

Plus, Todd's girlfriend Jen is an equally amazing woman! Not only does she put up with Todd :) but she also keeps up with him. They have traveled to some exotic and not-so-exotic places and done things most people would only dream of.




I'm glad Todd is my brother! Happy Birthday Todd! I love you tons!

10 things that make me ridiculously happy.....

10-A really, really sunny day--that isn't too hot--when I don't have to work and can just play.

9-My super cute niece Malena. I replay a question she posed to me in December over and over, "Aunt Sephernie, where's your hubsband?"

8-My Primary class and the way I can keep them rapt with attention while telling them a story. I did tell them today that Abinidi was burned to death. The manual did not mention that part of the story. I think it scared them a little.

7-Playing with good friends and being able to laugh until it hurts. I saw so many friends this week and it was wonderful!

6-Fresh, clean, and crisp sheets. I just wish they could make themselves fresh, clean, and crisp.

5-Getting real, live mail. Not junk mail. Not magazines. But real, live mail.

4-Chocolate.

3-Spending time with my family. I called my baby sister the other day, thinking I would get her voicemail and would leave the silly message for which I was calling. Instead, we talked for 45 minutes and had such a fun time.

2-Getting to sleep in as late as I want to. Or even later than I want to. And not feeling guilty.

1-Darrell. He puts up with my teasing (which is a lot!). He knows when I just need to be with "my girls." He lets me sleep in later than he would. He loves me more than I sometimes deserve!

Just so you know, I'd like to turn this into a recurring, guest post. Please leave a comment if you would like to add your list of 10 things that make you ridiculously happy. Don't include your list...I will email you when it's your turn and then I will post it.

And as a quick fyi...my number eleven would be having several people who want to do this!

It's about time!

I get really disappointed when I go to my friends' blogs and see they haven't been updated. Then I remember that I haven't updated mine in a long time.....

Here's the update.

Look!

It's my sister!

Not there ->

But here!

Feliz Dia de Madre!

Ok....so I decided to combine my celebration of Cinco de Mayo and Mother's Day. Not really. I just wanted to be different.

I thought I'd give a shout out to my mother and wish her the very best Mother's Day. It's a day that she hates. I think it's because the talks at church are just too syrupy sweet and she feels a little guilty that she isn't perfect. Mom, sorry if I made up the reasons. Those are the reasons I sorta don't like Mother's Day. Plus, shouldn't you treat your mom great everyday and not just one day a year?

Yeah. I thought so.

So here's a couple of photos of my mom, being a great mom:









PS--And a very Happy Mother's Day to my Grandmama!

Happy B-day! to my Dad!

Today is my Dad's birthday. Assuming I post this before midnight.

As I have done so far this year, I am posting some photos and explaining a little bit about each.

This first photo is my dad on his mission in Argentina. I don't know exactly who he is with, but it looks like they are having a great time!



This next one, if you can't guess, is my parents' wedding day. Don't they look so young? I think some one should make sure they were over 12....



Here is a picture of me and my dad. We are actually swimming in the pool at the apartments that we lived in about 37 years ago. Oh yeah, and they are about a mile and a half from my house now. Pretty crazy!



Here I am learning how to blow bubbles with my dad. He taught me a lot of things.



While I don't really remember learning how to blow bubbles, I do remember being taught (at 6 years old) the importance of not procrastinating. I was (surprise!) procrastinating--probably in cleaning my bedroom--and my dad and I read and highlighted Alma 13. A few years ago, my mom was going through old books and was going to donate that Book of Mormon. I took the pages out so I could scrap book them. That is if I don't continue procrastinating. Clearly I didn't learn it well.

Here is a photo of my dad after he had taken his first solo flight (I think). He was in the Air Force and was a pilot for much of that time.



He also trained other pilots. I don't know if that is what he is doing here, but it sort of looks like it.



I always thought it was pretty cool, but was disappointed I never got to fly with him. He eventually retired from the Air Force and worked for America West as a pilot. I finally got to fly on a flight that he piloted--his last flight from Phoenix to Reno and back. The whole family got that chance and it was fun! Here I am with my dad right before we took off to Reno. And yeah! I'm in the cockpit!



You are probably asking why I am showing a picture of Bryce National Park.



Well, part of the summer of 1974 was spent in Idaho. We were travelling back to Arizona and stopped in Bryce National Park on the way. My dad decided to take a quick look at the park. But since I was 4 and Jennilyn was 2, it was a bad idea for us to hike too much. My mom decided we could stay in the station wagon and wait, since it was only for 20 minutes. So, it was hot outside, so we rolled down the windows (power windows--I thought they were so fancy!). We drank ice cold root beer. And then came the bees! So we rolled up the windows. And sweated our guts out. So we rolled down the windows. And were again attacked by bees. I think you see where this is going. I don't remember much about this, but I do remember being hot and drinking sugar. From what I understand, the twenty minute hike ended up being well over an hour. But we got lots of pretty photos! And this was one of them.

This is a photo of me, my sister Jennilyn, and my dad at Disneyland.



We were moving from Arizona to Sacramento in 1974. We stopped at Disneyland, Knott's Berry Farm, and Marine Land. I still remember not wanting to go on a roller coaster. My parents took me on the Matterhorn (Space Mountain wasn't invented yet). I yelled the whole time--"This is a roller coaster!" I ended up not going on the flying Dumbos because I was afraid of those after the Matterhorn debacle.

There aren't so many photos of my dad, since he typically was the one taking the pictures, but these were some of my favorites.



Hope your birthday was great, Dad!

PS--I missed the deadline...it's just after midnight, so I really need to re-read Alma 13!

Liar

Before you think that I caught you lying to me (or someone else) and am calling you out, I want to let you know this is not the reason I am writing. This is another in the mp3 game. I let the mp3 player choose a random song, which is then the title of my post. I have to come up with a somewhat sensical blog post.

So, alas, I am not calling you a liar.

I am, however, going to call myself a liar.

You read that correctly.

I. Am. A. Liar.

At times in my life, I've even been a dang good liar. My mission was one of those times.

I know. I know. You are supposed to be on your best behavior on your mission. But here's the deal. I was really good. MOST of the time. But there were times that I just couldn't be perfect.

So I would lie.

Unfortunately, most of the time, it was in the letters I sent to my family.

(This is background information, which some people may not find too useful or relevant, but others won't "get" the story without it. Read it if you want. Don't if you don't care. But if you are still reading, chances are, you won't stop. Especially since I'm done. )

I went into the MTC the end of September for 3 weeks. Which means I got to Missouri the middle of October. I "killed" my first companion that month (she had been out on her mission 17 months, and went home in November).

I then got one of my favorite companions--Sister White (now Nicole Ungerman). She was scheduled to go home the beginning of January and intended to work hard up to the airport. And we had oh-so-much-fun.

We were in a wealthy-ish area and had dinner appointments every evening. The first Sunday of the month was with the Blah-Blah Family; the first Monday of the month was with the What's Their Name Family; and so on.

So, of course, we had a dinner appointment scheduled for Thanksgiving! It was with the Who's It Family. They had the third Thursday. I think I let me family know the eating arrangements in one of my first letters I sent. (And I say sent, because I would sometimes write letters and not send them. I have always been good at procrastination. I'm even so good, I can check it off my to-do list--you know, the list I call my Ta-Da's.)

Well, the letter I wrote to my family went something like this:

Things are going okay.
We've been tracting a lot.
It's getting cold here.
I bought some boots to keep my feet warm.
Something happened with our dinner appointment
last Thursday and they had to cancel.
We ended up going to the K-Mart deli (side note from Stephanie
in 2009--do you remember the K-mart deli and the K-mart
cafeteria?).
We got some sliced turkey just before they closed for the day.
It ended up being pretty good.

I intended on telling my family later in the letter that it was a joke and we had a yummy dinner, but it wasn't the same as spending the day with my family.

Only, I forgot that part.

Fast forward about four weeks, or so.

I'm talking to my family on Christmas day, telling them what I've been doing, asking what they have been doing, etc....

Then my mom asks about Thanksgiving dinner. I think I had forgotten all about it, since when you lie, you forget lots of the details involved. (That was for all you parents, whose children may be reading this. I wanted to make sure they know that lying only gets you into trouble. And never out of trouble.) (I'm a giver that way.)

I ask her what she is talking about and she reminds me of how I was deprived of Thanksgiving and she knows that the missionaries in her ward had about 57 dinner appointments that day. (Ok. Here is the embarassing thing. I don't really remember what she said, so I MAY have stretched the truth about what she said about the missionaries in her ward. Or that she even mentioned them.)

I then had to confess to her that I had been using a little thing I call "poetic license."

She then told me that she had been mad at the ward where I was serving; that they didn't appreciate the sacrifice that was being made in their area; that she felt really bad for me when she read about the sorry meal we had eaten.

Unfortunately for my mom and myself, she believed most of what I told her until I was 25. That is when she decided that most of what came out of my mouth was a lie. And that's when she decided (for her own sanity, and who can blame her) that she could no longer believe me.

So. There you have it. An example of Stephanie, the Liar!

I know I usually add a video of the song that inspired the post, but Deana Carter's "Liar" is not available. Boo! Just go and listen at your favorite digital music outlet. :)

You can thank "Mr. Kravitz" for this information

Well. Even though Mr. Kravitz in Bewitched never was the one to come to the bottom of the neighborhood hijinx (I like trying to use that word as much as I can), my own, personal Mr. Kravitz (Darrell) is the one who got the 411 about our neighborhood hijinx.

If you don't know what I am talking about, scroll to the post just previous to this one and you will soon know of what I speak.

Thursday, as Darrell was preparing to go to work, he ran into our neighbor just to the East of us. The owner of the home that had the police cars parked in front of it. "J" asked Darrell if he was aware that there was an incident in the neighborhood. Darrell told him that he wasn't away of it, except that I had been awake and told him about it.

"J" asked Darrell if he wanted to know what happened. Thank goodness Darrell said yes. "J" was concerned that Darrell would think less of him, and Darrell reassured him that we like him and his family and wouldn't think any less of him.

"J's" family is from a country South of Mexico. I'm a bad neighbor and can't remember which one. His wife has family from Mexico. Many times when they come to the US to visit, they will stop by late at night and drop off food or gifts and then continue through.

Well. On the night in question, "J" heard some knocking on his door just after midnight. Although this isn't necessarily unusual, it was unusual that no one had called or texted that they would be in town.

When he got to the door, he heard the person on the other side of the door, sounding frantic. He was banging on the door and asking to be let in.

"J" opened the door to find a young man, desperate for help, and bleeding. He told "J" that he had been stabbed and was being chased. He had been driving his car around the neighborhood to find someone to help him. He stopped at "J's" house since he was obviously a member of the police force, since a police car was parked in his driveway. ("J" is not on the police force, but has a white Chevrolet Caprice that appears could have been a police car in its previous life).

The young man was trying to get into "J's" house, but "J" refused. He did call the police and the young man was given medical attention. Turns out that the car he was driving wasn't his, but we don't know who it belonged to and if it was stolen.

There were two women who were talking to the police in the street that evening, that I didn't recognize. Apparently, one of them lives down the street and works for the police department, so she was chatting with some of the officers she knows. The other was her friend that was at her house at the time.

So....sort of exciting, don't you think?

The moral of the story is...don't buy a car from the police force...you don't know who may show up at your door.

I feel like Mrs. Kravitz from Bewitched

Ok. I don't know what is happening.

There are 3 police cars, one police SUV, and on police van outside my house. Earlier, like 15 minutes ago, there was a paramedic truck and a fire engine also.

There are a few people outside, to the east of my house, but I don't know what is going on.

I've been peering out the windows, trying not to be seen, to determine what is happening.

The only other info I have is that about 45 minutes ago, a car roared through the neighborhood, and honked the horn several times, then sped away.

I'll let you know what I find out.

Piano (Memory)

So, once again it is time for the "Pick a blog title by using the random feature on my MP3 player."

This time, I sort of cheated. Not really. But my MP3 player isn't really accessible right now, so I just scrolled up and down my playlist in Napster and chose a song at random.

When I was about 9, my family got a piano. We were all excited, but no one could really play. I thought I was really good and could play "Book of Mormon Stories" by playing a lot of the low notes in time to the beat. Let's just say, it was a bunch of pounding.

Back in those days, we lived in Arkansas, in a split level home. I thought we had a basement, but it wasn't really much of a basement. It was however, unfinished until the summer of 1979, when my mom and all the kids (there were four of us then) took a very long trip in our station wagon to Utah and Idaho, to visit the grandparents for about 6 weeks. My dad used that time to finish the "basement."

I tell you this story because we kept the piano in the basement. Probably so my mom wouldn't have to listen to the pounding of the keys, while her children imagined they were playing beautiful music.

We moved to El Paso the winter of 1980--just before Christmas (I think). My sister, Jennilyn, and I took piano lessons shortly after we moved there. My first piano teacher was Mena--a short little lady from the Philippines. I remember she moved across town, so we got another teacher soon after that.

I can't remember my next piano teacher's name, although she was the longest piano teacher I had. She owned a piano sales store for awhile, so we played on grand pianos for our lessons. She then closed her store and did piano lessons from someone else's piano store. There were other kids taking lessons from other people--I remember a lot of violin students, learning the Suzuki method. In the summers, Jennilyn and I rode our bikes to her house for lessons. It seemed like a very far way to ride, but I'm sure it was much less than a mile away. My mom made us promise that when we crossed busy streets that we would walk our bikes across the intersection in the cross walk. I remember we didn't do that--it was faster to ride. It seems her name was Mrs. Schultz--or something similar.

I learned to play hymns because of this teacher. She thought it was important to learn music you were familiar with, since you knew what it was supposed to sound like. It was then that I learned to play the real version of "Book of Mormon Stories." I even memorized it, and can play it from memory to this day. It's one of my favorite Primary songs. Ask any of the kids who were in Primary when I was the chorister--I get into the actions!

She also thought it was important to listen to yourself playing the piano. She suggested that we record our practice so we could play it back and hear the mistakes we made. I used my parents' black, rectangle tape recorder and recorded myself playing the piano.

At this time, my mom had Jennilyn and me practice at 6:30 and 7:00 in the MORNING! If you know me at all, you know this was torture.

But, if you know me, you know that I can be industrious. So I recorded myself playing and then played it back, at full volume, the next several days. I did this for a few weeks. Apparently, my mom never caught on, since a few years ago when I mentioned this, she told me she had no idea about my scheme.

We moved to Germany the summer of 1983. I was done with lessons--I just didn't want them and, even more, I didn't want to practice. A year later, I decided I was ready to play again, so my mom signed me up with Mrs. Hoeller.

She wasn't the nicest of ladies, but she was a pretty good teacher. She had all her students learn 10 songs, by memory, and record them at her house, and send the recording in to a competition. There is a song, "The Great Smoky Mountains," that I can still play from memory from this time.

For some reason, the next year we quit Mrs. Hoeller and got another teacher. I don't remember her name, but I remember she had her masters in Piano Performance. She expected that we perform all sorts of scales and our fingering had to be "just so." In the time that I took piano lessons from her, I don't think I ever passed a song off. I think I never even passed off the simplest C-major scale.

After that, I didn't take piano lessons again. I have had several callings at church, where I played the piano--and even organ. I have a piano at my house, but hardly ever play. I sometimes get the urge to play. I fear that I have lost a lot of my talent--not that I was ever a virtuoso, but I need to use it so I don't lose it.

So, thanks to Sarah Brightman...

What's a girl to do?

I have this Friday off of work. You read that right! I don't have to work. Yippee!

Now, here is my big problem....

What should I do?

I have a ton of things on my to do list. Ok, I don't really have a to do list--it tends to get me overwhelmed if I do.

But, there are so many things I would LOVE to do Friday.

Here's a sampling:

1. Sew--I still have to finish a couple of Christmas presents (and I mean Christmas '08).
2. Go to the gym--I hate going, but once I'm there, I love it.
3. Clean the house--like a deep Spring clean--there's something really nice about having a clean house. If only it would clean itself.
4. Go shoe shopping--I really want and need a new pair of shoes. Or more.
   
5. Finish my paperwork for our taxes--UGH!
6. Spend some time with the girls--pretty much any of them.
7. Re-decorate the house--Ok. That one isn't something I can do, but I'd love it if I could! A girl can dream!
8. Spend the day at my in-home spa--Pedicure, hot tub, reading, lunching (I love using that verb), primping.
9. Hours online--Let's be realistic!

So, what do you think I should do? What would you do with a day to yourself?

Four-Four

Happy Birthday to Jennilyn!



On this day, thirty-seven years ago, my sister, Jennilyn was born.



Since I was still a wee thing--just twenty-one months old at the time--I don't remember much.




I remember (or remember being told) that my dad was out of town, at some training for the Air Force. We lived on Williams Air Force Base, outside Chandler, Arizona, at the time. My Grandmama came to help my mom. This was back in the olden days (almost back as far as when the pioneers lived) when fathers weren't allowed in the delivery room. So neither were Grandmamas. My Grandmama stayed with me while my mom was in the hospital. We played a very fun game called Find The Asparagus. I'm not sure why we did this, all I know is that my Grandmama "hid" an imaginary asparagus, and I looked all over the house, looking for it. I found it--behind the kitchen door. I'm sure I was pretty pleased with myself!




I don't have many other memories of this time, but here are a few childhood memories of Jennilyn:

We almost always dressed alike. People were always mistaking us for twins. We didn't really look that much alike, but I remember people always asked if we were twins.



Jennilyn was the only one in the family that ever got a two-piece bathing suit. She was two--oops! my mom says she was one. And sexy! I always held that over my mom's head.



When she was 3 and I was 5, she took ballet and I took gymnastics. I remember going to her recital, where all the little girls "danced" as if they were flowers growing. We got black leotards that we wore until we couldn't stretch them over our bodies--I think I was 11 when it wouldn't fit any more.



We played together ALL. THE. TIME. We played house, school, barbies, Primary (we even got in trouble for taking the sacrament once), Charlie's Angels (on our roller skates).



We made delicious treats. Grape jam between saltines. Strawberry jam "poi." "Zoom" tacos.





The summer she was 6 and I was 8, we had been watching Card Sharks. We liked to pretend we were on game shows, so we were playing Card Sharks one day. Jennilyn was the host and I was the contestant. She asked lots of questions, to which I had to guess the percentage of "respondents" who would would answer in the positive. Jennilyn asked, "We asked 100 married men: How many of you were bachelors before being married?" I answered: 100! Jennilyn told me I was wrong and told me it was a very low number. To which I told her, "No. All married men were bachelors before being married." Jennilyn replied that I was mistaken. I then told her that not only were all married men bachelors prior to marriage, but even our dad had been a bachelor. She told me I was very wrong and ran into the other room to tell on me. I don't know what she thought a bachelor was, but it couldn't have been good.



When we would clean our room, we were very slow. But we had a song we would hum, if we needed to speed up. We would hum loudly, and run around the room, flinging toys and clothes into their respective receptacles. I'm sure we did a horrible job, but we thought we were geniuses. I have no idea how we came up with the song we did, but here it is: The theme song from S.W.A.T.!



Happy Birthday Jennilyn! Hope this year is great!

Fabulous blog I found--with a giveaway

Check out this blog. She is having a giveaway and I must win!

Get ready...there's lots of birthdays coming!

A very happy birthday goes to my sister Emily.



She has, by far, the most nicknames in my family:
Freaky Friday
Freaky (short for Freaky Friday)
I even tried to call her FF, but she didn't like it
Little-girl-friend-of-mine
Ma'am
Girly-two-shoes-lardo-lady-lap-dog (She REALLY hates that one!)
Em
Mimi
Emirly
Meemers



Ok. That's all I can remember!

She is my youngest sibling. I'm the oldest child and she's the youngest, so sometimes there is a "culture" difference for us. There's nearly 11 years between us, but it seems to get less with each passing year (for me at least). I frequently read her blog and she frequently tells me in her blog not to comment the way she thinks I will. And most of the time, she's right.




I still remember when she was born. My mom was cooking dinner (ground beef for some sort of casserole, probably), when her water broke. My dad loaded all us kids (4 of us at the time) in the car, with my mom, and took us to a friend's house. I don't remember their names, but I used to babysit their kids all the time, even though I was only 6 months older than their oldest child.

My mom had the longest labor of her child-bearing years--I think it was 45 minutes.

Emily was born in an army hospital in El Paso, Texas. Right after delivery, the nurses took my mom on a WALKING tour of the maternity wing. She even got to carry her own suitcase. The next morning, they woke her up, gave her crisp clean sheets, and told her to change the sheets.

My dad took us to meet Emily the next day. I remember being quite concerned that she wouldn't look at me and smile. I knew she was blind. I didn't want to make anyone else freak out, so I didn't say anything at the time. I think I didn't say anything until last year, in fact.

I remember while my mom was in the hospital (back when the stay was a minimum of 3 days), my dad made breakfast. He made homemade waffles. I was kind enough to let him know he was doing it wrong, since he didn't beat the egg whites to stiff peaks and fold them into the rest of the batter. He just added the eggs all at once. I KNEW those waffles would be disgusting. Imagine my amazement to taste delicious waffles. Ok. I hear you now--I know I'm bossy. But only sometimes. And only when I'm right. And, yes, I'm always right. I digress.

Oh yeah. The morning after Emily was born, when we got up for breakfast, the hamburger was still in the pan on the stove. I wondered if we would throw it away. We did.

The day Emily came home from the hospital was March 30, 1981. A historic day for presidential history buffs. It was the day Reagan was shot. We picked Emily and my mom up from the hospital, and I swear, we went to McDonald's off I-10 for lunch.

Here are a couple of pictures of Emily. Since she is the last child there are only slightly more pictures of her than of Julie, the next to the last. For some reason, the next to the last child has the fewest photos. :(