Friday, May 31, 2013

A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words

It is even funnier when you click on the picture to make it bigger.  Go ahead, try it.  I dare you.

Thursday, May 30, 2013

The Grapple

For years I have looked on with great anticipation of trying a succulent new fruit called the grapple.  The texture of an apple with the taste of a grape?  Yes, please!  The only reason I have not bought a package is because they are $3.99 for four, and I am incredibly cheap.

Today, I decided to treat myself to these grapples.  I figured if I were to buy a pack of chips or candy or some other kind of junk, I would spend that much, so I was justified in spending a dollar per piece.  I was freaking out a little inside the truth be told.

I had such high hopes for these small delicacies.  We got home, I unloaded the few things I bought, then I proceeded to cut my new treasure.  Ever so carefully did I cut my hybrid.  I didn't want to waste any of it!  After all, I had spent a whole dollar on just that one.

There it was in front of me, the moment I had been waiting for for years now.  I brought the wedge up to mouth and tasted it.  Then I thought, "ARE YOU KIDDING ME?"  These taste like somebody took a Fuji apple and soaked it in grape flavored...something.  Not grape extract or even grape juice, but "grape flavored" candy.  Disappointment galore!

Do you think I can get my money back?

Wednesday, May 29, 2013

Pinterest is the Devil

I think we al can agree that I am a BIG TIME crafter wannabe.  I so desperately want to craft.  It is my dream to create something so amazing that even I like it.  I generally am not satisfied with anything I make.  Then one day I was introduced (obviously by somebody who hates me) to pinterest.

I thought, this is great, I will get step by step instructions.  How can I fail?  HA! 

I saw a tip on how to clean in between the glass and the oven door.  I took it apart, fairly easily.  It cleaned up like a dream.  What is the problem, you might ask?  Um, putting it back together.  What a joke.    I spent HOURS trying to get it back together.  Nothing I tried worked.  I actually broke a part of the door.  Oops.  Ed had to put it back together when he got home.

Did I learn my lesson?  Of course not.  I am off to try the next project.  It will not turn out right, and I will probably utter some second string swear words under my breath.  I will hate whatever it is, then off to the next project.

Why do I do this?  It is the far off possibility that this time will be different.

Wednesday, May 22, 2013

A Life Less Ordinary

Amazing, bizarre, curious, exceptional, fantastic, gnarly, incredible, marvelous, and phenomenal.  Did you catch what all these words have in common?  They are all synonyms for the word extraordinary.  They also happen to describe my life.

My journey to motherhood started the same way as many other girls.  At age two, I would pretend to nurse my babies and rock them to sleep.  When I was five, I would have tea parties with all my babies arranged perfectly in place on a blanket.  By the time I was a teenager, my thoughts were more sophisticated.  I imagined six or eight blonde haired, blued eyed beauties.  They were all impeccably dressed, hair pinned perfectly in place, and never dirty. 

When I hit my twenties, I just wanted to be a wife and mother.  My vision for my children had not changed.  They would sit quietly having picnics, reading books to the younger children, and of course, brush each others long flowing tresses as they giggled about silly things.

I would imagine myself holding my daughters' hands as we ran through lush, green meadows, and danced as our shiny locks blew effortlessly in the breeze.

Never then did I realize that I would find toothpaste on my new expensive comforter, boogers in my hair, or gum on baseboards and toilet seats(really?toilet seats?).  Never did I realize how wonderful and amazing two boys, and two girls, who are semi clean most of the time would be.  Four rambunctious, and completely extraordinary kids.  They have in large part shaped the woman I am today.  A crazy woman.  Crazy, yes, but happy and fulfilled and satisfied.

Monday, May 20, 2013

Take four minutes to watch this.  What we are being plagued with in our society is our lack of compassion.  May we all change our lives and perspective after viewing this short video.

Wednesday, May 8, 2013

The Parable of the Cheese

Back in March, Ed and I decided to just go for it and pay off the car.  Not a week later we had to replace the motor mount and fix the high beams.  We also had the 90k mile service, and threw in the timing belt (about 10 k miles too early I found out), just for good measure.  As a result, we have been really tight financially.  We are fine, we've just had to be very frugal lately.  One thing I've been trying to do is go to the store less.  Less impulse buys equals happy husband.

About a week ago, I was vacuuming and trying to plan dinner.  When I came up with what I wanted, I realized that we didn't have any cheese.  I was pretty bummed, because that dinner sounded so good.  I can't even remember what it was now.  I prayed to my Heavenly Father.  It went something like this;  I know that we have been blessed far beyond our ability to even comprehend, but I want some cheese.  I want some extra money so we aren't as tight, so I can get some cheese. 

I finished my vacuuming, and thought nothing more about this prayer for the next several hours.  About five hours later, the kids got home from school, and I went up to check on Mallory.  When I came down, there was a two pound block of cheese sitting on my counter.  I was upstairs for maybe 90 seconds.  Nobody seemed to know how it got there.  I did eventually find out where it came from.

It was better than receiving money in the mail.  It was a huge reminder in a small package of how much my Heavenly Father loves me.  How he hears my simple prayers.  How the small, seemingly unimportant things matter to Him, because they matter to us.  It strengthened my testimony that my Heavenly Father lives, and loves me, and that I matter to Him.