Don't Put All Your Adages in One Basket

I tend to procrastinate these vacation posts as they tend to be long-winded and not that interesting to anyone besides me. I have to force myself to be brief, and I never like being brief. But here is my attempt.

My flight out to Utah: it was me and my two girls going alone since Codeman had to work. I flew Delta, therefore you can probably guess what happened without me going into much detail. The girls and a very pregnant I (I threw the 'very' in there for dramatic effect) were stuck over night in Georgia through no fault of our own. You know the drill, stand in an airport line until 1:30 at night with two crazy kids who refuse to go to sleep, get shuttled to a hotel, blah, blah, blah, wear the same clothes the next day, haunt the airport the next day, waiting to fly out. It was actually fine; I mean, not a picnic or anything like that, but not as terrible as it could have been. One of the most annoying things about the whole experience was listening to the conversation behind me in the line, as I waited to get new tickets and a hotel room for the night. The guy behind me just couldn't quite grasp that time travel isn't possible. "If I would have known I was gonna be stuck here for the night, I would have stayed an extra night at my grandma's house" (this is a grown man, by the way). Or, the same guy, "I could have driven home in as much time as this is going to take." And then he would follow up these incredibly pointless musings with incredibly stupid adages. "But, you know, it is what it is." "Whatcha gonna do?" "Just have to grin and bear it." And there I was, pregnant (very, did I mention), standing in line with my two wily kids running around (which is putting it mildly), and I had to listen to this man, all by his lonesome, whine, complain, and then console himself with greeting card messages. I had a couple adages I would have liked to offer him, "Life is full of disappointments.", "Cowboy up.", "Listening to your voice makes me want to pull my earlobes into my mouth and gag on them." (what, you haven't heard that adage before?)

So much for me being brief.

We finally arrived in Utah, stayed a week with my in-laws on their farm in Utah. Claire loved playing with her cousins, and all the animals that Grandma and Grandpa have. Claire threw up, Morgan thought that she and the kitty-a-cat were soul mates, and I read a book.

There, that was brief.

And then we went to my sister's house, spent a couple of days laughing until it hurt, then went to Bear Lake for a few days for a family reunion on my side. Loved it! Got colored a toasty shade of red. The kids loved the Harry Potter themed activities, including a potions class that I taught. As a family, collectively ate three batches of Scotch-a-roos. Went back to my sister's house, visited some friends, ate a peanut buster parfait, put a puzzles together, flew home. That's about it.

I had a great time. Claire had an even better time. She was in heaven being able to play all day long with her cousins. Morgan screamed anytime it was time to eat, fought with her 18 month old cousin, and sang "I Know You" about 147 times.

And the rest is history; we rode off into the sunset; all good things must end sometime; these mashed potatoes are so creamy; and that, as they say, is that; that's the way the cookie crumbles; you can't make an omlet without breaking an egg, any cook will tell you that; that closes the curtain on this case; dweeb-da-da-da-dweeb, dat's all folks.

(Morgan, looking totally presentable, on Grandma and Grandpa's farm)

(the view from the patio of our cabin at Bear Lake)

(Claire, with her wand and Slytherin cape, probably coming up with some evil-genius plan)

(me, teaching a rockin' potions class. I even yelled at the kids, just like Professor Snape. I am the best aunt on the planet.)

Cold Hard Cash

It just kinda snuck up on us. One day Cody noticed that some of Claire's teeth were loose, we explained to her that all her baby teeth would fall out eventually, she was horrified at the thought, we explained the tooth fairy, she was initially skeptical, but easily convinced, and pretty soon, after much 'big ' pep-talk, she was excited to lose her first tooth. Until the day came.

Then it was drama, crying, a little more drama, some more crying until finally Cody just pulled it right on out. Then everything was just dandy. This all came about so fast that I didn't even have time to secure a tooth fairy pillow (which is the best thing about the whole tooth losing process), so Claire had to put her teeny tiny tooth under her pillow, and thankfully the nervous tooth fairy found it and exchanged it for some cold hard cash. Sweet.

(the dentist at work; Morgan combing her teeth)

(a little hint of the drama that was)

(finally the proud chica showing off her investment)

2

My first post on my blog was about my frustrations in trying to get pregnant with kiddo #2. Since then, I have shared on my blog my pregnancy, my delivery story, my "she-is-so-pinchably-chubby" exclamations, her singing skills, and her hiding skills (which not only include the dryer, but today as I was cleaning out the fridge, she snuck inside and closed the door on herself. We had ourselves a near-Punky Bruster moment). Her whole life has been documented here on this blog. And now she has turned two years old.


She is serious, moody, silly, mama's girl, a screecher, a hugger, and she loves to sing songs (especially "I Know You" from Sleeping Beauty). I love her more than I could express- she makes my heart sing.
This is the same Strawberry Shortcake cake that I had when I was a little , and I have always loved it, anxiously counting down the years until I could make it for my little girls. Mission complete.

I decided today, and I don't know why it took so long to dawn on me, that I really don't like to decorate cakes. It's messy and takes a long time. I once had serious aspirations of being a cake decorator, but I think I can safely say that is one talent I won't be courting anymore (but maybe we will just hold hands every once in a while).

The video is of Morgan blowing out her candles- the birthday song is sung with as much gusto as a funeral march, and we let Morgan burn her finger. Other than that, it is pretty much run of the mill stuff.