What Have You Done???

Things I've Done. To participate just copy and paste in your own blog, and bold all of the things you have done.

1. Started your own blog

2. Slept under the stars

3. Played in a band

4. Visited Hawaii

5. Watched a meteor shower

6. Given more than you can afford to charity

7. Been to Disneyland

8. Climbed a mountain

9. Held a praying mantis

10. Sang a solo

11. Bungee jumped

12. Visited Paris

13. Watched a lightning storm at sea

14. Taught yourself an art from scratch

15. Adopted a child

16. Had food poisoning

17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty

18. Grown your own vegetables

19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France

20. Slept on an overnight train

21. Had a pillow fight

22. Hitch hiked

23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill

24. Built a snow fort

25. Held a lamb

26. Gone skinny dipping

27. Run a Marathon

28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice

29. Seen an eclipse

30. Watched a sunrise or sunset

31. Hit a home run

32. Been on a cruise

33. Seen Niagara Falls in person

34. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors

35. Seen an Amish community

36. Taught yourself a new language

37. Had enough money to be satisfied

38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person

39. Gone rock climbing

40. Seen Michelangelo’s David

41. Sung karaoke

42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt

43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant

44. Visited Africa

45. Walked on a beach by moonlight

46. Been transported in an ambulance

47. Had your portrait painted (Does sculpted count? I think it should...)

48. Gone deep sea fishing

49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person

50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris

51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling

52. Kissed in the rain

53. Played in the mud

54. Gone to a drive-in theater

55. Been in a movie

56. Visited the Great Wall of China

57. Started a business

58. Taken a martial arts class

59. Visited Russia

60. Served at a soup kitchen

61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies

62. Gone whale watching

63. Got flowers for no reason

64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma

65. Gone sky diving

66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp

67. Bounced a check

68. Flown in a helicopter

69. Saved a favorite childhood toy

70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial

71. Eaten Caviar

72. Pieced a quilt

73. Stood in Times Square

74. Toured the Everglades

75. Been fired from a job

76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London

77. Broken a bone

78. Been on a speeding motorcycle

79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person

80. Published a book

81. Visited the Vatican

82. Bought a brand new car

83. Walked in Jerusalem

84. Had your picture in the newspaper

85. Read the entire Bible

86. Visited the White House

87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating

88. Had chickenpox

89. Saved someone’s life

90. Sat on a jury

91. Met someone famous

92. Joined a book club

93. Lost a loved one

94. Had a baby

95. Seen the Alamo in person

96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake

97. Been involved in a law suit

98. Owned a cell phone

99. Been stung by a bee

RIGGING UP THE LIGHTS

I used to love Christmas, until a couple of years ago. Then I finally started to realize that Christmas is such a huge pain in the butt!!! This song plays over and over in my head when I'm doing all of the crap that comes with the Christmas season:


Call me the Grinch; call me Scrooge; I fully acknowledge my lack of Christmas spirit.

So. Here's the second thing of Christmas that's such a pain to me -- rigging up the lights. I really wanted Ben to put lights around the windows and along our roofline, but he was so busy finishing our bedroom. (Post on that soon to come. I want to take a picture of it when it's actually clean, which might take some time. Because really. Dishes and laundry come first. And then, if there's time left over, I can get to cleaning my bedroom.) Ben just didn't find the time. He finished our room a couple of weeks before Christmas, but then we had a really bad cold, windy snap, so the only Saturday we could have done it, we opted to stay inside. I thought of trying to put up the lights on the roof myself, but I was really scared of falling off the ladder. So I put lights around the bushes and on the railing of our front porch. It wasn't much, but my across-the-street neighbor, Nephi, came over to tell me how much he loves looking at our lights at night. He is really old and has prostate cancer, so he doesn't put lights up anymore. So I'm glad that someone was satisfied with our meager lights display, because I sure wasn't. Maybe next year Ben will find time to do it. Or I will get up the guts to climb the ladder by myself.

I obviously involved Dylan in the lighting endeavor, because he's just so bored all the time. Anything where he can expend some of his energy is a good thing. Here he is, doing the lights on our railing:

Isn't his little vest cute? Ben's dad and stepmom sent us some clothes for Christmas, and we love them. We desperately needed them.

I tried to take a picture of Sadie, but she was experiencing post-nap depression at the time, so this is all I could catch of her:

She was NOT in the mood for a picture.

Thanksgiving

Thank goodness for Ben. He did all the cooking while I was in that 5K on Thanksgiving. We were in charge of bringing rolls and pumpkin pies, and Ben fully and completely did it for me. I was grateful, because when I got home, I was NOT in the mood to cook. I just wanted to sleep! I was going to wear the shirt I got when I finished the race, but Micah barfed all over it right before we left, of course. He is such a barf-meister, but not as bad as Dylan was.

We had dinner at Mom and Dad's house. Lex came over from Boise, and Nat's fam was there, of course. We missed Beads; it's gosh darn football season for Spencer, so they couldn't come out. Then my Aunt Marilyn and Uncle Boyd came over, and also my Uncle Kurt. I wasn't very social, and I feel bad about that now. I just wanted to lie on the couch and sleep.

By the way, we (Dad, Lex, and I) are officially doing the Resolution Run on New Year's Eve. We're supposed to cross the finish line at midnight. Have I ran at all in the past week and a half? Nope. Am I going to die? Yep.

Here are me and Stinker:

Lex, Boyd, and Marilyn:

Uncle Kurt and Ben:

Ma:

Dylan, Jake, and Sadie - Marilyn lent us her "kid table":

Brock and Troy:

Nattles, the genetic lottery winner. Seriously, who has four kids and still looks like this?:

Dad and Ivy:

Poor Pete. He felt really sick that day. But he still managed to eat:

We came over the next day for leftovers. Here are Ben and Micah:

And one last look at my former header picture, which we took a couple of days after Thanksgiving:

My Niblets

My friend, Mindy, calls her nieces and nephews her "niblets," and I think it's cute.

Anyways, I have a video of my nephew, Troy, and I thought that, while I'm at it, I could blog about my funny, funny niblets.

Nat's kids all look completely different from each other, and their personalities are also very, very different from each other. And they all crack me up. I could seriously watch them all day; they are just that entertaining to me.

Jake is five. He LOVES Ironman:

He's got the pose down pat:

He's extremely resourceful and artistic. Look at this Ironman puppet he made by himself:

Jake HATES being put under any kind of pressure to perform. I just think he gets really embarrassed. Here he is at preschool graduation:

At one of his t-ball games (he didn't like being yelled at to run, so he walked sullenly):

And here he is at his little school Christmas performance:

It cracks me up so much. Jake LOVES to jump. I wish I had a better picture of him jumping than this. He jumps from couch to couch in his family room - we're talking like ten feet. I'm serious. Here's the only pic of him kind of jumping that I could find:

Whenever I go over there, he's always like, "Aunt Kar, watch me fly!!!" And, speaking of flies, Jake can catch flies with his bare hands. And then he rolls them between his fingers and deposits them into the heating vents in his house. It's insane! I can't even kill flies with a flyswatter! Here is Jake, holding a captured fly:

Okay, now to Brockey. Brock is very wary of me lately. We used to be buddies - Nat called me Brock's "food beyotch," because Brock knew he could count on me to give him food. But he's in an anti-Kar phase. I have been grouped with Brianna now. We are the Aunts Scary. Hopefully he'll come around. When Brock gets nervous, he gets an underbite. It is really cute. He puts all of his toys in his backpack and carries them around all day. Nat calls Brock's backpack his "third arm":

Note him looking warily at me in the above picture. He very graciously calls Jake "Ironman," which I'm sure Jake loves. Brock loves to be pampered. When Nat rubs sunscreen on him, he sighs, closes his eyes, and enjoys it. We used to call him Little Princess, but we worried about giving him a complex, so now we call him Little Prince. Brock hates getting his picture taken:

Most of his pictures look like the above. Nat calls Brock Mr. Justice, because he has a very innate sense of right and wrong. If all three of the boys are getting into trouble, the others may deny the wrong or run away, but Brock stands his ground and allows himself to be punished. I went over a couple of weeks ago to pick something up, and I brought the kids some candy. They had brushed their teeth, so Nat told them they had to give her candy until the next day. Jake ran away, and Troy started opening his candy, but Brock immediately gave his candy to Nat. The boys were doing something naughty a couple of weeks ago, and Nat said, "Okay, that's it. I'm going to call Santa and tell him not to bring your presents." Troy and Jake were like, "Nooo!" But Brock nodded his head solemnly, like, "Yes, that is the just way." So cute.

Troy is Nat's Dylan. He gets into stuff, a LOT. This is sunless tanning lotion:

And Kool-Aid:

Poor Nat. Here he is, after he pulled a very heavy knicknack onto himself:

He is a little monkey who can climb onto ANY surface. He's very resourceful. He is talking sooo well, which is great. Nat says that Troy is Important. Whenever we all get together, the kids will play downstairs at Nat's place or Mom's place, and the adults will usually hang out upstairs, but Troy is always, always with the adults.

Here is the cute video of Troy, at my house, doing some organizing:

He's a busy little man.

And last but not least, Ivy:

She is so smiley and chubby and cute. She loves to chew on fabric. She's a huge fan of her bottles, but not so much with solid food. She lets you know when she's ticked. She's a very big momma's girl, so she doesn't often like to go to other people, but luckily, she gets tricked by my voice. Nat and I have the same voice inflections - we often trick each others' babies into thinking that we're "safe" from our voices being alike. Nat calls me "Brown-Haired Mom," and I call her "Blonde-Haired Mom." Ivy can stand on her chubby little legs really well. I wish Micah was as interested in physical pursuits! :)

So there are my niblets. So funny and so stinkin' cute.

Little Mother

Sadie, as most girls, is starting to turn into a little mother.

She is always reminding us that we need to read scriptures at night, and sometimes, when we forget to pray at meals, she reminds us. Just this week (we're still in Washington), she admonished Gloria, Ben's mom, to close her eyes so that we could pray. So funny.

A few weeks ago, she was coming out of the bathroom, and I was going in, and before she closed the door, she said, "Wipe you bumb and wass you hands, tay, mommy? [Wipe your bumb and wash your hands, okay, mommy?]"

My mom was watching Sadie and Micah one afternoon, and my mom lay down on the couch and put a blanket on her legs. Sadie pulled the blanket up to Mom's chin and tucked her in all nice. I think they were watching Bambi (what else?), and during the scary part, Sadie patted my mom's head and said, "Don't be stared, tay? [Don't be scared, okay?]"

She is so stinkin' cute.

Humbled to the Dust!

There is nothing like a 5K to humble a person. I jog for an hour every single day, so when Dad signed he, Lex, and I up for the Thanksgiving Run to Feed the Hungry, I thought to myself, no prob. I run four miles a day - 3.2 miles should be easy peasy. Um, not so much, as it turned out.

It kicked my butt!! I think there are a few reasons for this.

Number one, Dad and Lex were keeping a crazy pace. Way too fast for me. But they wanted us all to stick together, so I was pushing it way harder than I'm used to. I've been slowly jogging faster and faster on my treadmill, but I'm not up to the pace that they are used to keeping.

Number two, the air was really, really cold. I was having a hard time breathing. Like I said, I jog on my treadmill, inside. A big difference. I had loogies the whole time. They had a couple of stations with this nice, hot lemoney drink, and that helped to clear the loogies, which was nice. But I just didn't feel like I could breathe very well.

Number three, the terrain wasn't flat, like my treadmill. It was up and down and flat and all that stuff.

So it just felt like a torture fest. We started at Freeman park, then ran to the greenbelt and around it, and then back to Freeman. And just when we thought we were done, we had to do a little lap in Freeman park. When I realized that we still had one more loop to do, I said a cuss word. :) We actually walked for a moment in that loop, because Lex had a really horrible side ache. She was kind of grunting, and Dad thought she was going to throw up, so he's like, "Just walk for a minute, Lex." But then we finished it out jogging. It was cute - Lex made all of us hold hands as we crossed the finish line.

I'm really proud of us, though. Who knew that a 54-year-old man, a girl who has had four knee surgeries in the past year, and an overweight mom who recently had a baby, could run in a 5K? And I'm "miles" away from where I was when I started jogging this summer - I used to have to jog for five minutes, walk for five minutes, jog for five minutes, etc. for half an hour, and I thought I was dying. Now I can run for an hour without stopping. That is an accomplishment.

But boy, do I have a long way to go! There was a 5K, but also a 10K. The 5K-ers made a loop, and the 10K-ers followed the same loop, but then lengthened theirs out, and then rejoined us. I don't know if that makes much sense. Anyways, these guys run so FAST. When we were hitting our halfway point, the 10K-ers were rejoining us. They had already run, like, 7 K in the time it took us to run 2.5 K. I wonder if I will ever get to that point. The point where I can do a 10K, no prob. And run so fast. I wonder when it's going to get easier. Lex says it doesn't ever get easier. She's been jogging for longer than I have, and she says it is a struggle, every day. I never, ever want to jog. I get on my treadmill and groan and want to punch something.

But I keep doing it, because I like the results. Dad and Mom took me to get some new jeans for Christmas, and I fit into a size 10!!! I almost started crying. I never thought I'd see a size 10 again! It's wonderful.

Lex wants us to do the Resolution Run - New Year's Eve, at midnight. I'm like, are you NUTS?? It's going to be at least negative five outside! Holy crap! And I haven't jogged this whole week, because we're visiting family in Washington. No treadmill, and the roads are covered with snow. Maybe I should get out Ben's old snowshoes?? So I'll be absolutely unprepared for it. If we do it, part of me is tempted to say, "You two go ahead. I'll keep my own pace, thank you!" But I know they won't let me jog alone. Their little mantra is, "We finish together." So I think I'd just better man up and be prepared for another torture fest.

Oh, P.S., do you like my nice pinning job on my hoodie? It was soooo stinkin' cold, and we had to wait for so long before the race began, so I stole a pin used for the runner's numbers and pinned my hoodie. It helped. Five seconds into the race, though, I was taking off my hoodie. I get so dang hot when I jog.

Oh, and P.S.S., there were like 500 people in that race. It was crazy. We spent the whole time going around people, and people going around us. That wasn't my favorite.

Okay. The end.

If You Give a Mouse a Cookie...

This is one of the books we have at our house, and it's really cute. I was reading it to Sadie the other day, and it occurred to me that my life is a lot like this book.

In the book, the mouse wants a cookie. So this little boy gets one out of the packaging and gives it to him. And then the mouse wants some milk to wash it down with. So the kid opens the fridge, gets the milk, pours it into a cup, screws the lid back on the milk, and puts it back in the fridge. And then the mouse is concerned that he has a milk moustache. So the kid has to lift the mouse up to the mirror to see. And then the mouse decides that he needs a haircut, so he asks for scissors. So the kid has to go find some scissors. And on and on. It ends up that the mouse decides to draw a family portrait, wants it taped to the fridge, wants a nap, changes his mind, sweeps the entire house, but doesn't finish the job by putting it into the dustpan, etc. And at the end, this poor kid is falling asleep, surrounded by a huge mess from just helping this mouse with his whims.

Um, that is so me. I spend my entire day helping my kids with their whims. Because they're too little to get most things by themselves. And they need supervision for some things. And then I have to sit and make them clean up their messes. Because if it was up to them, they would just make mess after mess, jumping from whim to whim to whim. But, again, with some things, they need help cleaning up. So at the end of the day, do I have anything to show for all the work that I've done? Nope. The dishes are still not done. The laundry is still not done. The dinner is still not made. All because of these little high-maintenance "mice" of mine. Ben jokes that I sit and eat grapes all day, and boy, do I ever wish that was true. I don't even think I sit down, ever, in the course of a normal day. Just so busy.

Religion, According to Dylan

Story #1:

Dylan: Mom, who is the President?
Me: George W. Bush.
Dylan: Who is the prophet?
Me: Thomas S. Monson.
Dylan: Who is the temple president?
Me: Oh. Uh, I don't know...
Dylan: It's Barack Obama.

Story #2:

Dylan had done something naughty, of course.

Me: Dylan, is that what Jesus wants us to do?

Dylan: But I don't want to be a "Jesus guy."

Story #3:

Dylan: "Daddy is going to Bad Heaven."

Story #4:

Dylan: "Daddy is going to Heaven for Criminals."

Story #5:

We were having Family Home Evening a few weeks ago, and I was quizzing Dylan.

Me: Who was our first prophet?
Dylan: George Washington.

Story #6:

Dylan: "If you don't do your homework, God will kill you."

Story #7:

Dylan: "If you eat before you say the prayer for dinner, God will kill you."

Story #8:

Back in March or so, Dylan told my mom that babies are born with angel wings, and that their parents cut them off after they're born, and that's why we have shoulder blades. Mom told me this, and I later found out that Ben had told him this story. Sheesh. Maybe Ben is going to Heaven for Criminals.

Beautiful New Family Photos

Okay, so I actually won this drawing - I never win anything! My friend, Megan, is a photographer, and she had this drawing for 25 free Christmas cards, and I signed up, and I won!!! So she came out to our house... a week ago? Yeah, I think so. And took our pictures. And they turned out insanely gorgeous:

I wanted to put the family picture as my header, but for some reason, Greg and Gloria's computer isn't letting me. I have a hard time making Yahoo do what I want it to do. So I'll fix it when I'm home. (We're in Washington, visiting Ben's mom and stepdad this week for Christmas.)

Anyways, I'm asking Ben to get them printed as an anniversary gift in January, so to Mom, Gloria, Brenda, Laurie, Nat, Lex, and Beads - I'll get you some then. And Megan wanted me to remind people not to print these, because of copyright. :) The end.