A(nother) Public Service Announcement

I've heard it more times than I can count in the past two months..."Why aren't you blogging anymore?" I've felt guilty about it more times than I can count, too, which is kind of lame. For crying out loud...I often shower just to change into a clean pair of jammies, I'm single-handedly ruining all three of my kids and I eat way too many Pretzel M&Ms...I have plenty to feel guilty about without adding blog neglect. (Sidebar: I'm in p90x rehab for the M&M issue. I've had the same bag of Pretzel M&Ms in my pantry for 3 1/2 weeks now. That's a personal best.)

Anyway...I read something online and it's irritating me into blogging submission. Some of you couldn't care less, and that's okay too, but I'm feeling the need to share.

Did you catch that? Couldn't care less. This morning I was reading an article on my AOL homepage. (I'm really more of an MSN girl, but I'm also borderline computer illiterate and haven't investigated how to change it. Another day maybe.) The author made the comment that she "could care less" about a situation in her life. Inside I screamed. I know there are SO many more important issues in the world, but come on. It's bad enough when the general public misuses the phrase. When a "writer" does it, I have to say something.

The actual phrase is couldn't care less. If you incorrectly say "could care less" you're negating the whole premise of your comment. Let me explain:

If I say that I couldn't care less that Jane's boyfriend is cuter than mine--hypothetically speaking, that is not an announcement--I am saying that it is absolutely impossible for me to care any less than I do that my boyfriend isn't as cute as Jane's. That is rock bottom on the care meter, and it is the message that the phrase is supposed to convey: that I absolutely DO NOT CARE. If I say "I could care less", I am expressing that there is room in the universe for me to care less than I do, therefore I CARE at least a tiny bit, which is not what the phrase means at all. If you're ever unsure, think about it like this: I care a tiny bit (could care less) that Jane's boyfriend is cuter than mine OR I don't care at all (couldn't care less) that Jane's boyfriend is cuter than mine because my boyfriend is still cute and he's also a Nobel Prize winner working on a cure for cancer. (Still with the hypothetical.) Couldn't care less.

So you came to my blog because I finally updated it after two months of silence and I ruined your day with my grumpy tirade...and I couldn't care less. Haha I'm joking!!! I could totally care less... ;)

On a Lighter Note...

...after months of deliberation and weeks of serious concern that I wouldn't be able to come up with anything on the scale of last year's costume, I have finally determined what to dress Seth as for Halloween this year.


Imagine this:






As this:

Funny, right? As Brig likes to point out, this is why I have kids.

ps I'm getting feedback that since the blog redesign, some people are unable to post comments. I don't know how to fix it! Sorry :(

The Little Things

A couple of weeks ago a woman at church asked me if Seth is close to 2 yet. When I said he'll be 2-years-old next month, she said almost under her breath, "Wow, that went by fast." I knew she wasn't really talking about Seth, it was more of a sudden awareness that it's already been two years since Matt died. We mark that passage of time by subtracting one month from Seth's age. It's been two years tomorrow.
*
I was going through some pictures last night, looking for one for another post, and stumbled upon this:

It's a message Brigham wrote on the cover for Matt's casket. It tears my heart out. Sometimes I wish my boys' father was a jerk so they'd actually be better off without him, but he wasn't and they absolutely adored him. He would walk in the door after a full day at work and Brigham and Hunter would run toward his open arms at full speed, often knocking him flat on his butt. Sometimes I was jealous that they got the first home-from-work hug, but after a conversation with Hunter tonight I'm glad.

*

We went to the cemetery this evening. Usually the boys don't like to get out of the car, and I don't feel like I should push them, but tonight Hunter sweetly offered to go with me to "our" grave. As we stood together looking at Matt's headstone, Hunter told me he was thinking about Dad at our old house. "What part?" I asked. "About how he used to walk in the door," he answered.

*

On the way home I thought about that phrase..."It's the little things that matter most"...and I thought about how quickly the little things can become enormous things. Little things like walking in the door.

An Equal Opportunity Quilt Post

Right now I am working on what is shaping up to be my all-time favorite quilt. I went to bed last night with all twelve squares pinned together and laid out on my kitchen island. When I woke up this morning and came down stairs, my first thought was "oh...it's even cuter than I remember it being!" From the fabrics to the color scheme to the whole overall piece, it's pretty near perfect. It makes me kiss my fingertips and do that little Italian hand gesture in the air. And it's not even edible! But it's a surprise...so I can't post pictures until I mail it off next week. Sorry.

But I can post a picture of the quilt I finished and delivered last week. It's the big sister quilt to the one I did for Alexa a few months ago:




All this quilt talk is making me concerned that I'm neglecting my male readers, so for the sake of balance I was thinking I'd post a picture of an awesome Smith & Wesson revolver I've been eyeing:

But somehow I don't really think that helped...sorry fellas.

Blackberry Cream Cheese Pie

I had this friend in college. Her name was Vella and she made cheesecake. Not Jello-brand-from-a-powder-and-milk cheesecake, but real baked-in-the-oven-in-a-springform-pan cheesecake. Until this point in my life I had only known the former and actually had no idea that real people could even make the latter...So sheltered... Anyway, Vella's ability to make flavor after flavor of real, legitimate cheesecake fascinated me. I've thought about it just often enough over the years to buy a springform pan, but not often enough to take it out of the box.

It's really a matter of patience and commitment. I lack both. If I could just dumb it down and shorten the process, I'd be all over it.

On that note, I give you Cream Cheese Pie (courtesy of my friend Krista who I did not bother to ask about posting this recipe). It's not even close to Vella cheesecake, but light years above the Jello stuff in the box-- and it's so easy! First I'll tell you how Krista makes it, then I'll tell you how I make it. hahahaha

1/2 pint heavy whipping cream whipped on highish until foamy, add 3 oz. of softened cream cheese and mix well, but not too much. Add 1/2 cup of sugar and 1 tsp. of vanilla. Whip until fluffy and pour into a graham cracker crust.

My interpretation was pretty much the same except I wanted it to fill up the crust a little more. So I used 1/2 pint of whipping cream plus about 1/3 cup, the whole 8 oz block of cream cheese (if you use the kind with 1/3 less fat, it's already soft and you don't have to soften it more) and about 3/4 c. of sugar with 1 cap full of vanilla. But then I didn't actually measure any of my extras...

I've never claimed to be a photographer, but I also never make anything if I don't first know what it's supposed to look like, so here ya go:





And just as an added bonus, I had to document something that Seth likes that doesn't provoke itching, vomiting and puffiness. Yay pie filling.

The Big Unveil

I love a good remodel. I'm pretty open about that. But as I've checked house projects off the list, I've started to get bored and restless again. And me bored and restless is an ugly thing. So I started to wonder what else I could possibly remodel...

I met with a plastic surgeon.

Hahaha! Because if you can't remodel your house, why not remodel yourself?! For reasons I won't even go into, that didn't go anywhere. (Sidebar: no one should use the world "flanks" to describe the female human body. Really. Who can feel feminine with flanks?) While you have to admit it's kind of funny, funny doesn't do much to cure boredom and restlessness. If you get your kicks from remodeling, truthfully, nothing else is going to do.

My blog-guru sister came to the rescue. I think my mom might have put her up to it with the hopes that I'd start blogging again, but here it is: the blog remodel! My friend Cami took some pictures, I made a few sketches & pulled some ink pads to create the color palette, Ami worked her magic and waa-waa! (That's voila when you're a kindergartner.) Go ahead and tell us how cute it is. We're all ears.

So now that the blog has been remodeled...?

If Your Friends Jumped Off a Bridge

Even though I rarely get around to blogging any more, I still see life from a blogger's perspective. Stuff happens and I think--Oh I should blog that! Today I got all excited about something...like the kind of excited where you have a secret and can't wait to tell someone...like I had made a discovery that, when shared, had the power to change lives...not like a cure for cancer kind of thing, but close. Another purpose for over-ripe bananas kind of thing. I know, HUGE.

After an arduous day in the pool with the little men, this afternoon was feeling kind of like a gooey warm brownie afternoon. But I was out of eggs. I figured there had to be an easy alternative so I googled it. (Sidebar: Do you even remember the days before "google" was a verb?) Anyway, imagine my ridiculous excitement upon learning that half of a banana mashed up works as a substitute for an egg in things like cakes and brownies!! Yeah, HUGE!! Who doesn't need a use for dying bananas besides banana bread?! I'm trying to convey here how excited I really was about this, but I don't know that I'm getting the point across. Remember that one time I tried pretzel M&M's for the first time? The time I bought myself that fabulous flowered ring for Christmas? The time I had a mid-life crisis and went to Montana to be a cowgirl yogini? Wait. That's next week. The time I designed the most fabulous fireplace ever? Okay, that's how excited I was about this banana-instead-of-a-couple-eggs thing.

My excitement was SOOO misplaced. Long story short...if all your friends decide to jump off a bridge you probably shouldn't try that either.