Things That Make My Day

First off you have to know that we recently got Direct t.v. and have been watching t.v. as if our lives depended on it. So you'll have to understand my enthusiasm at having more than seven watchable channels. Without further ado, here are a few things that made my day today.

I watched an episode of House Hunters that was recorded last night and I swear while they were touring one of the houses they had the music from the song, "It's getting hot in here" by Nelly playing in the background. No words just the tune. Maybe I imagined it but it was bizarre enough to make me laugh out loud.

Bear Grylls as the dirty boy of Man vs. Wild. This show is entertaining in many, many ways. Yes I'm a sucker for the accent but this is no proper Brit. Most of the time I'm just thinking how crazy this guy is. He's awesome.

Brig sent me an email today that has the enclosed link http://www.bbqaddicts.com/bacon-explosion.html . This is just a monstrosity of pork. Bacon wrapped in sausage wrapped in more bacon and smoked for a few hours. My husband hates fatty meat. So obviously bacon is not his favorite. I have to contribute this special request of his for the big game on Sunday to extra testosterone building up in his system in preparation for the Superbowl. Weird. And no, I will not be making this.

Something else that I just had to shake my head at and smile is after Brig got done doing his homework I handed over the remote. He perused his options and settled on...Battlestar Gallactica? Really? He's never watched this show before. I just kept thinking of this scene from Season Three of The Office. "Bears. Beets. Battlestar Gallactica."

I haven't posted any pics of Ava yet. Mostly I just wanted to keep that part of my life more private. But I have to say that I am the luckiest mother alive. It's so fun to see her personality develop. She's so caring and sweet. She told me she loved me like three times today. She often tells me I'm beautiful and it's always on days I need to hear it most. She's pretending a lot more and using her imagination. It's fascinating to watch her. And it reminds me to model appropriate behavior for her as she seems to pick up on eveything we do. We've been going through a rough patch that's probably lasted six months. But I finally feel like we're coming out of it. It was all power struggle, but now it doesn't feel like I'm threatening her with time outs all day and she's not pushing the limits all the time. I love her and am grateful every day that she came into my life.

A craft that is just my style.

First of all I have to give all the credit to Megan. She posted this on her blog a year ago and I thought at the time how cute it was but it's taken me this long to get all my stuff together and actually do it. This is her original blog post if you want instructions: http://megkenneys.blogspot.com/2008/04/entertain-teach-brain.html . It's super easy and Ava was so excited about it. Hopefully this will make traveling in the car and church easier. If for nothing else I'll always know where to go when I get a sweets craving!

Bad news...

I am scientifically not beautiful! I was perusing the news stories last night on my homepage, putting off going to bed, heavens knows why because I do need the sleep. I found a link to a story about how scientists have created an algorithm that can morph a picture of a face into a more beautiful version according to what most people find beautiful. So you can read all about it at this link http://www.aolhealth.com/healthy-living/beauty-skin-care/science-perfect-face but what it basically comes down to is people find women's faces that have proportions like a babies to be more attractive. You heard me, babies. Which makes sense since babies look so cute to us so we'll take care of them. It's no secret I don't have delicate baby features. I have a very prominent nose thanks to my Norwegian ancestors. A quick shout out to the Carlsen's! The article has "helpful" tips as to how to make your face more attractive. Most of it involves plastic surgery. Sorry, but I don't have enough self-hatred for my face yet to willingly let someone stick a knife in it! Whenever I read stories like this I have to reassure myself that I am for the most part a kind person who cares about others and on occasion can make people laugh. I still have my personality, right? If that story makes you depressed definitely don't click on the story about how women with a greater waist to hip ratio are healthier than hourglasses and pears and apple shapes. I used to have an hourglass but I'm more of a busty apple these days. The article cited Keira Knightly as being an example of this. Fabulous! If you happen to be one of these super-model type bodies you can celebrate...and I officially loathe you.

Because I'm sick of looking out the window at winter

I did have a picture of Hugh Jackman shirtless and on the beach but I wouldn't want my husband to have a picture of a busty beach beauty on his blog. If he had a blog. I wonder if you'd ever get tired of looking at this kind of scenery? Sigh. How any more months of winter?

We Can Do It!

Perhaps it was women like Rosie the Riveter here that inspired me to take matters into my own hands today. We bought a new shower head to replace our crappy one, very similiar to the picture below. The crappy one, that is. This thing is supposed to make you feel like you're standing in a tropical rain forest while the rain just falls down on you. Well, it doesn't specifically claim that on the box but that's what I was expecting it to do. Sadly, it does not. I still feel like I'm in a shower in a basement in Utah.

This is why we switched back to our old stand by model, the detachable massage shower head. It also makes cleaning the shower walls easier. Anyway it's been a few days and Brig has made no move to install the new one. So today as I'm cleaning the bathroom I got all women empowerment and thought to myself Why shouldn't I be able to install this thing by myself? I don't need to depend on my husband. I can do it! It might have been my imagination but it seemed like a voice echoed off the shower surround Yes You Can! That's all I needed to open the package and take inventory of the parts. So I unscrew the old shower head. Easy. I wrap some teflon tape on the pipe threads. Easy. I attach the shower head bracket. Easy. I screw on the hose to the bracket. Easy. I attach the shower head to the hose. Easy. I try to rest the shower head in it's bracket. Uh-oh. It's not fitting. I notice I attached the hose to the wrong ends. I re-do it. Easy. I turn on the water. Voila! It works. Well there's a few drips coming from the pipe that comes out of the wall. I imagine showing my handiwork to my husband. I imagine him pointing out the drips. So I decide to unscrew that part and apply more teflon tape. Instead of carefully uninstalling every section I decide to go right for the jugular. The shower head falls from it's bracket in slow motion and hits the shower floor and breaks. Easy. This shower head wasn't cheap. Fifty bones, as my younger much hipper brother-in-law would say. Fifty dollars as I would say. I must have said Dammit ten times. Ava comes running into the bathroom and says, "What's wrong, Mom?" All I can do is sit on the toilet and cry. I say, "Dad is going to be so mad at me!" Ava promptly starts yowling along with me and says, "Dad's going to be mad at me, too!" I get a grip on myself to comfort her and tell her Dad's not going to be mad at her. I went from Rosie the Riveter to 1950's snivelling housewife in two seconds.

The story ends well. Brig got home and when I tell him what's happened he has the nerve to laugh. And laugh and laugh. He thought it was hysterical that I thought I was suddenly Joe the Plumber. I tell him it makes me sick that it cost so much and now it's broken. I admit I tried to Gorilla glue it back together at which point he laughs some more. I show him the glue I couldn't wash off of my fingers and that sends him to clutching his stomach laughing even harder. Apparently my ineptitude at fixing things brings him joy. Glad to have been of service.

Now for this random picture of Mary Hart. Or is it Heart? That would be perfect, nauseatingly sweet. This woman drives me crazy. Her resume should say professional butt kisser to the stars. I know, what has Mary Hart ever done to me? Nothing except make the occasional appearance on my t.v. and act like her head is full of fluff. One time I about threw up when she was interviewing Barry Manilow. She flirted with him like crazy and he told her her eyes were beautiful. It's Barry Manilow, people. Mary it's time to retire already!

Gay Men, Sex Offenders and Ex-boyfriends, Oh My!

Every once and a while you run into an old flame. You could have any number of reactions depending on the relationship, how things ended, and how much make-up you have on. I have a close friend who is an expert in grocery shopping hide and seek. If she sees anyone she knows who she doesn't want to talk to she ducks into another aisle and tries to blend into the scenery. She shall remain nameless but I salute you, I really do. How you convincingly look like just another wall of cereal boxes is mind boggling and genius. Over the years you have honed your skills and I bow to your superior powers!

In my head when I make a mental list of all the boys I had a "relationship" with (ie. going with each other) as well as the semi-official ones, I cringe. Why did I sell myself so short? Why did I even want to "go with" a boy when I was still the appropriate age to be playing Girl Talk with my friends at sleep overs?

The list of boys is rather sad and humorous at the same time. I can recall two boys I went with that friends had to talk me into going with. Too Tightly Tied Sneaker Guy and Shorter Than Me By A Head Guy. Why? I have no idea. What did they see in them that I didn't? Maybe they got a kick out of me hiding in the bathroom after school because I knew that Shorter Than Me By A Head Guy was looking for a kiss and I was embarrassed by the height difference. Some guys you go out with for convenience. Your friend starts hanging out with their friend and you're always together listening to their crappy band music and so you figure, why not? Then you are just naive and vulnerable enough to say to this absolute jerk of a guy who couldn't care less about you that you love him. That's right. The three dreaded words. And his response, "I know." Arrogant, conceited, loser, bast...I mean Unreturned I Love You Guy. Really though I have to blame myself. I was so stupid. I don't know why I needed a guy's approval when I had such great friends and such a wonderful family.

If I had a televison channel about my life and there was a show entitled, "Where are they now?" it would be a very depressing show indeed. The first boy I ever kissed AKA Elevator Room Kiss Guy...I found him on the sex offender registry a few weeks ago. The first boy to ever take me out on a date AKA Told Me I Looked Pregnant In Our Dance Picture Guy...gay, gay, gay, gay, gay. I ran into Unreturned I love You Guy last year in a pizza place. He still had his scruffy goatee and for the life of me I couldn't understand why I wallowed in a depression for months after he stopped calling. I dated a guy shortly before I started dating my husband at USU who directly after we stopped hanging out left for a study abroad program. He came back, yes, gay. Thus his christening as Awkward Physical Contact Guy. He also could be known as Undetermined Relationship Guy as we spent quite a bit of time together and I never knew if it was a romantic or platonic thing. Apparently he was wondering as well.

It wasn't all bad. I 'd like to believe I learned a thing or two from dating all those toads. About myself mostly. And when it really counted I finally loved the right guy for a while, and then the right guy for forever. The first guy that I really truly loved was and still is a good guy. I run into him every now and then and he is happy and successful with a cute little family. Then there's my husband who, for all his faults, still loves me in spite of mine. He makes me laugh and is always making me guess what is going on inside that brain of his. He's a mystery that I'm willing to take a long, long time to figure out. So I'd like to think that when it really counted my heart pulled through for me.

Totally Inappropriate and Totally Random Thoughts...

Do you ever find yourself thinking something inappropriate and you get all mortified because you just about blurted out what you were thinking? I think I must be nuts because this has been happening alot. It's usually when I'm talking to someone I'm kind of nervous around. I'm one of those people that hates awkward silences and I get all nervous and just start babbling about nothing to cover the silence. It's so obvious too. I can't even give you an examples because it would be inappropriate. I was talking to my mother-in-law tonight and I caught myself about to say something that fell into the inappropriate category! I shudder to think of what her reaction would have been.

For all you mothers out there I think you know and can agree that babies really do suck the smartness out of our brains. A couple of days ago I was trying a new recipe. Cheddar Chowder if you're curious. Anyway I was just about done adding ingredients and I thought the thickness of the chowder was lacking. So that's an easy fix right? Just add some...what was that white powder again? Hmm. I looked at the corn starch. I thought of flour. I settled on...baking powder?!? Well I felt like a real witch as I took a fist full and dropped it into the cauldron, I mean the pot and wow! It was like a fifth grade science project. The chowder was foaming and bubbling. My husband who is very helpful yelled in response, "You've ruined dinner!" Nice, Denise. Dinner was not ruined if you're wondering, but thinner than I would have liked.

Tonight I saw a shooting star, or else a really fast satellite. So I thought to myself, hurry up and make a wish! I've done this a few times growing up. Most of the time I wished for money or a certain toy or in recent years to be thinner. Tonight the first thought that crossed my mind was, "I wish for happiness." I was grateful that I no longer associated my own happiness with money, possessions, or the size of my waist. No one else, no thing can be responsible for my happiness or unhappiness. Not to get all self-help on you. It's taken me a long time to come to this conclusion. Hopefully this is a sign of maturity. Who knows though, sometimes it seems like just yesterday that my girlfriends and I ran amock in public and made fools of ourselves.

You know you've been feeding your child political propaganda when...

Just a quick post before I forget. A funny thing happened in church yesterday. I was showing Ava a picture of President Monson in her Friend magazine during sacrement. I asked her if she knew who that was. Her reply: President Obama. Uh-oh. She got the president part right! You know you've been praising Barack Obama to the sky (yes I lean towards democrat) when your three year old thinks he is the president of your church as well. I don't think I can see a resemblance anyway. This is an improvement over what she used to call Barack Obama...Bummy Obummy. I guess I will have to work with her on identifying our Prophet.

Just call me Unibrow

Why is it that you never notice how unkempt your eyebrows look until you are in a restaurant bathroom or at a friend's house? You're washing your hands and glance up into the mirror and suddenly it's like you've sprouted twenty stray hairs since you looked in your own mirror that morning. Do you know what's worse? The rearview mirror when there is some strong sunshine coming in through the windows. It's sure to bring out hairs you didn't even know you had.

It doesn't help that if I left my brows au naturale that I'd look something akin to Brooke Shields circa 1985. My sister and I discovered where those genetics came from as we were sitting at my grandparents one sunday and flipping through a family history book. Suddenly there she was. In all her 19th century stern faced glory. She had two fuzzy caterpillars for eyebrows, bless her. We know who we can thank for the eyebrows now. I'm sure if she could have spoken she would have pointed to an even earlier ancestor who had the good fortune to have been born when the camera was not invented and thus never captured the bushy brow curse.

My husband has a lot of things to thank me for. Not the least of which was me throwing out his old H.I.S. ankle hugging jeans when we were dating thus heralding him into the 21st century. Since then I've devotedly plucked those stray hairs that were marching ever closer towards the center of his forehead. The thing is every time I beg him to let me pluck beneath his brow just to tidy them up a bit. He probably instinctively knows I'd get carried away and he'd end up looking like Joey from that episode of Friends. One time I asked him if I could do his hair. I wanted to do it kind in the hip fashion at the time of combing it forwards kind of spiking it up in the front. Well a half hour later with the mousse and gel and hairspray dispensed on his hair and blow dried he looked like an exact hair twin to Keira Knightly in this picture. All he lacked was a cute little rhinestone studded bobby pin. So I guess I don't blame his skittishness. P.S. I laughed and laughed after I did his hair. He glared at me and got back in the shower to wash out all the unnecessary hair products and I was still laughing.

An Explanation

I thought I'd explain why I named my blog Mattress Wars. My sister-in-law Holly asked me why I named it that and I blurted out, "Because Brig and I don't get along in bed." And both Holly's and my sister, Dawn's eyebrows shot up and they said, "Alll righty then." That's not exactly what I meant. I meant I'm a bed hog. I admit it. I've always been one. I've contemplated going to bed hogs anonymous but decided I just can't quit now. Anyway, ever since we've been married we haven't quite gotten the hang of sleeping together down. I am surprisingly aggressive in the middle of the night still half asleep when my husband tries to gain back a few lost inches or pull some covers away from where I lay with them clutched in a death grip. Brig claims I've really let him have it but when I wake up I remember almost nothing. And before you start feeling sorry for him I woke up the other morning with a stuffed animal laying next to my face. When I expressed my surprise at Jack Jack the Polar Bear invading our bed my husband admitted to throwing it at my head because I wouldn't stop snoring. Nice. This is our life. So I thought for my blog I'd name it Mattress Wars: It's not personal, it's family. You know like "Go to the mattresses" off of The Godfather via You've Got Mail, It's not personal, it's business. So that's the explanation. I decided too late that I didn't want to blog as much about family as I used to so now I'm stuck with Mattress Wars. I think it's time to get a king size bed. Unfortunately I can't change the name of my blog!

New Years Resolutions/Pregnancy Watch 2009

My new years resolution. It's the same as it's been seven years running...lose weight. Can I tell you how depressing it was to pull out my winter snow bibs and put them on and not be able to zip them up. I said to my hubby, "Well it's not like I've been able to fit in them since I had Ava anyway." If my husband were of the sweet variety he would have said, "Yeah, but I'm loving that belly your rocking. Women with flat stomachs turn me off." But alas, he did not say that instead he had to tell me that I was wrong, "You wore those the winter after you had Ava, like two years ago." I just looked at him trying to find a loophole out of what he was saying. Of course I remembered that I had wore them two winters ago when we went snowmobiling to West Yellowstone. I knew that when I said I hadn't been able to wear them after I had Ava. I said it to keep my sanity but I was denied even that much.

Resolution #2: Get Ava poop trained. She's fine with going number one but is still frightened of doing number 2.

Resolution #3: Learn a language. Italian, Spanish, French. I'm not sure but I would love to learn one. Maybe Spanish since mi espouso habla Espaneol?

Resolution #4: Get Pregnant. Or not. I'm being rather cruel about it since my mother-in-law has been dropping hints like crazy for over a year now. The truth is I'm not sure I'm ready for another one. Some days I am so baby hungry but others I'm fine with my whiney three year old. It's not like sleeping below my mother and father-in-law puts me in the mood. But I have a sneaky suspicion that my MIL thinks I just might be pregnant. Probably due to my Coke belly. So I'm playing right into it. The other day Ava made some comment about having a baby sister. My MIL raised her eyebrows and said, "Did you just spill the beans Ava?" I just laughed and didn't say anything. Then a few days ago I was feeling dizzy. I had to go outside to get some air and when I came back in she gave me a wink. Then yesterday I thought Ava had a dirty diaper but when I checked she didn't this was my MIL's reply, "Is your nose just hyper sensitive right now?" and laughed knowingly. I know this is kind of mean but if she wants to add meaning to things that have none then more power to her.

Resolution #5: Be a better mother.

Resolution #6: Be a better wife. Sometimes I'll catch myself being witchy to my husband and I think WHY? Why do I treat him like this sometimes? Whether he deserves it or not he probably wonders where the sweet, funny woman he married went to. I think part of this is I used to be able to devote all of my love and affection to him. But now I'm constantly caring for someone else and some days I think I just can't be patient and loving with one more person or I'll scream! We need a couples vacation I think. When we are just the two of us I remember why we fell in love in the first place. It's been too long.

Resolution #7: Read the scriptures each day. I love reading. But it's been a long time since I've been enthusiastic about reading the scriptures. Maybe I should take an institute class.

Resolution #8: Get on the treadmill. The reason for two posts in one day? Putting off exercising. So on that note I better go and work on taking my coke belly off.

Another Good Book

The classic King Arthur story told from Guinevere's perspective "Queen of Camelot" is spectacular. It follows Guinivere from her upbringing as a Welsh princess to her glorious rise as Queen of Camelot. From her fierce rivalry with her cousin Elaine to her unrequited love with Lancelot the story is fresh as it explores the gray areas of love, fidelity and honor. There are no embarrassing love scenes which was a relief considering the love triangle. I can't recommend this book highly enough. Even better than "I Capture the Castle". Bravo to Nancy McKenzie.

When is High School Going to End?

I just have to vent. How many years must I endure re-living that nightmare that was high school? I don't know how normal this is but I dream very often that I am back in high school. Sometimes I'm me from the old days, blissfully unaware of the real world and much thinner. Sometimes I'm me from now, mother of one and married traipsing through the halls of my old high school feeling dreadfully out of place. What is with this? Last night's rendezvous had me starting school a week late and so I had to sit by some stranger on the bus and by the way I was the "now" version of myself, then for some reason fast forward to walking in the halls of school, topless and in the dark. That's right I was topless but it was totally dark so I was relieved no one could see me. So I get to my locker and I open it up and it has a mulititude of bras in there. Totally normal, right? So I grab one because apparently there is a time limit to how long the dark will last and I just about put it on when the lights come up. So I'm covering up as best as I can when my old boyfriend walks past with his friends and glares at me! So I hide in the bathroom while I get my bra on and then I'm late for my first class. My good friend Jill has left me so I try to find my first class alone. I get there and Jill seems to be great friends with everyone in our group but I don't know any of them. Plus they're all giving me the weirdo look as I'm trying to rock the Madonna bra only look. AHHHHH! High school angst ten years later. Please for the the love of frog make it stop! To top it off I woke up with a Blink 182 song playing in my head. What is wrong with me?!? Why can't I dream about being a supermodel or a villa in France?