snack free september

After a discussion about wanting to lose some weight, and needing to eat better, Mr. Boss suggested we initiate a “snack-free September”. He said we could be each others support, reach out to the other when we struggled under the temptations of goodies (ranging from fast food and soda to copious amounts of chocolate).

I'm not exactly one to agree with restricting treats from my diet in the name of weight-loss or health-seeking, but when he said we could take a break for Cupcake's second birthday, I reluctantly accepted his challenge.

We then proceeded to use the final days of August to eliminate the treats in our home. By consuming them, of course. No wasting in this house!

The month started off rocky. September first found us road-tripping from Salt Lake back to Denver, and that means road-trip food. We were much more restrictive than usual, but when you pull into town after 13-plus hours on the road, cooking is the last thing on your mind. So we picked up some good ol' KFC, fried chicken, mash taters, macaroni, and a large side of cheese curds. Yes, please.

Mr. Boss had a meeting on day three, in which there was a bowl full of treats staring at him for an hour. When he returned he informed me that, out of habit, his hand plunged into the bowl before his bum had made contact with a chair, but he remembered in time, and resisted. And, although his mouth watered at the sight of his companions Mountain Dew, he stayed strong.

On day four, a friend met him for lunch. He chose, what he feels, was the healthiest fast food option: Jimmy Johns. Nothing fried, fresh veggies, not a bad choice.

Needless to say, Mr. Boss is doing quite well with this challenge.

Meanwhile, I sneak out to the car periodically through the day. Hidden under the passenger seat is a box of contraband goodies.

Other times, I slip into the kitchen, open a canister of hot cocoa mix, and enjoy some of the sweet, chocolatey powder. (Weird? Probably. Do I care? Not really.)

a teaching moment

The weather has been pretty mild so far this year. Until yesterday. It was cold and overcast, and then the snow came. It fell all night and into the morning. I do not like snow. At least it's pretty.
We've had a little visitor in our neighborhood. We've seen this fellow a few times over the past month and a half, or so. It is not welcome, and every time Boss sees it he chases it away.
Now for a story about my awesomeness:

On Monday night I ran to the store to pick up some milk. I was all by myself, which was nice, but I was trying to be quick in case little S started to miss me. It was a quiet night, hardly any traffic, the store was basically empty, and I was able to finish and return home quickly. I got to our street, and started to pull along side Boss's car, so that I could park in front of it. That's when my peaceful night turned sour. I'd done this same move so many times before, but this time I guess I was just a bit too close to his car. An immediate pit formed in my stomach when I heard the crash. I finished my parking job quickly and jumped out of the van to survey the damage. The pit in my stomach grew when I saw the driver-side headlight hanging out of place, held on by a wire. I felt so foolish.

I ran straight inside and told Mr. Boss. I thought he was going to be angry with me. I was so nervous to tell him, but I couldn't not tell him. He listened to me as I explained what happened, but he didn't get mad. He was immediately forgiving and reassuring. We went out and surveyed the damage together, we had to take our lantern, because it was dark. He was able to put the headlight back into place, and it worked when he turned his lights on. But there are some repairs that need to be done to his car now, before he can drive it again. Despite his kindness and reassurances, I still felt so stupid for what I had done. I was just going to write a vague story about it, because I was embarrassed to admit to anyone who might read this what I did. But the story wasn't really making sense without the details.

The next day, since he didn't want to chance driving his own car before fixing it, Boss took the van. Later, I went out to clean up the debris from the night before. When I came in with the handful of broken pieces of headlight, C asked me what I was doing. I thought for a moment if I should tell him or not. But the idea came to me that I could use it as a teaching moment, so I told him. I explained to him that I had a little accident and broke dad's car a little bit. I told him how I knew right away that I had messed up, and that, even though I was worried about how he would react, I went and told his dad right away. C was sure that Boss had gotten mad at me, but I was able to explain that he was actually very understanding and forgiving. I hoped that by telling him this, he would realize that we all make mistakes, that even mom can mess up sometimes, but that it's important to admit when you mess up. I wanted him to know that he can tell someone, and that it's important to tell someone if your mistake affects them, even if it seems scary to do so.

I hope that, in the future, my teaching moments don't involve my ego taking such a beating...

photo challenge day 18:
photo challenge day 18:

candy factory tour, comic book warehouse, awesome hair-do

Today was an adventure day. It all started with the candy factory tour.
The giant comic book warehouse, aka Nerd Heaven:
Z was so excited!
I was pretty proud of how my hair turned out today.
photo challenge day 2:

January is over.

It felt like this month passed by in the blink of an eye. Maybe it had something to do with starting the year/month on vacation, causing my perspective on time to become skewed? Or, perhaps, time always moves at ludicrous speed, and I have become increasingly aware of this speed with age?

Anyway, this post is an attempt to be accountable for my resolutions that I mentioned in my last post. As far as my reading goes, I'm a few days behind, and I'm trying to make it up. But my reading plan also allows for missed days here and there, so I'm not stressing too much.

As for pictures of Boss and me, I didn't manage to get any of us together, but I did get pictures of him and myself individually.

Boss is sharply dressed for a job interview. (He let me cut his hair! And he shaved! And he wore a tie! It had to be documented!) (Also, cross your fingers about that job for us?) The next day, I was taking pictures with my little boyfriend, while we waited for Boss to get home from school.

In other news, I learned how to make a watermark on my pictures, and I'm kind of (really, really, really, ridiculously) excited about it.

the end.

gratitude. day 11

I am grateful for my goofy Mr. Boss.
I am grateful for the way he makes the children giggle,
for the way he flies them around the room,
and that he gets down on the floor to play and wrestle with them.
I am grateful that he is the one who my children call "papa".

thoughts

Mr. Boss and C are gone tonight. Their first father-and-son camp-out. My plan was to clean up a bit after I got E and Z to bed, but instead I'm here.
I sat down in front of the computer to put on some music that would help me get to work. But after I got the music started I didn't get up. I've just been sitting here, reading blogs and wasting time. And then I looked up at the pictures on my wall. A couple of wedding photos, a picture from 30 Strangers, and other pictures of the children. And I couldn't help but smile, and marvel at where Boss and I are (just shy of) 6 years later. From a couple of crazy kids who couldn't imagine life without each other, to becoming young parents and all of the adventures that have come from that. And now we're so near to the day that we'll welcome our fourth child into our family, and I can hardly believe it. Six years, in a week. What an adventure it has been.

August 2006
January 2011 (this is one on my wall)
August 7, 2012

It makes me happy. Life is not exactly how I had imagined it would be. (Heck, I didn't think I'd be married before the age of 25, just didn't think it would happen so soon.) But I wouldn't change a single thing. Looking up at the pictures on my wall, looking at those clueless kids in their fancy clothes, with no idea of what was in store for them. Looking up at the picture of me with 6-month-old E, I'd only just turned 22. Looking up at the picture of my 3 babies, in the house that I miss terribly, I can hardly believe how small they are. Each picture fills me with a joy that cannot be explained or described. All I can say is, I am so happy with my messy, imperfect life. Because it's perfect for me.

It's beautiful in it's own way.

an adventure

Earlier this month, on a day that was delightfully cool and overcast, we took a quick drive into the mountains to look at bison. We packed a light lunch and our binoculars before heading out on our adventure.
There is pretty much nothing in the world that excites the children like getting to use their binoculars, especially when they know they'll be using them to look at wildlife. Even little Z got a chance to try them out.

Can you spot the tiny bug with a heart on it's back?I love my little family, and our sometimes adventures.

Cupcake : 26 weeks

Each day bleeds into the next, it's got me so mixed up. Each week passes with increasing speed and I feel as though I am constantly scrambling to keep up.
It is helpful that Mr. Boss has now started school, and is home at the same time every afternoon. Home to help me with the difficult evening hours, home for dinner! I'm trying to soak this time in, before he finds a suitable night job that takes him away from us. I know we need it, I know we need him to work, I just hate having him gone so much.

Porcupine will be 2 on Friday. Two days! Boss doesn't have class on Fridays, so we're thinking a trip to the zoo is in order. (Even though admission prices are painful.) And a messy, dirt and bug cake will be the perfect way to celebrate our bug and dirt loving boy.

photo challenge : 13-16

13. mum: with two (I mean three!) of my blessings. C was too grumpy to join the photo.
14. grass: and weeds...
15. love: nothing says love like letting your children beat you up.
16. what you're reading: this, this, and this.

see:
the challenge
days 1-4
days 5-8
days 9-12

a post in which I ramble about Christmas

A long time ago, before the thought of having my own family had really taken a hold of my mind and heart, I had assumptions about how certain aspects of my future life would be. The one I'm going to talk about is, of course, Christmas.
I was raised in a home where Christmas was celebrated. It was celebrated with a tree and presents, with family, and with the magic that naturally accompanies this time of year. I was raised believing in Santa, as well as in Jesus Christ. It was all I knew and, I assumed, all I would ever know.
Christmas 1988 Why shouldn't my future Christmases be filled with familiar traditions? Why wouldn't I carry on the magic that I enjoyed as a child? What else was there?
Then I met, and after a short while married, my handsome Mr. Boss. I was aware, when we wed, that my new husband did not like Christmas. I just didn't really know to what extent.

Suddenly, our first Christmas was upon us, and I was so confused. I desired the excitement of the traditions from my childhood, but also wanted to keep my irritated spouse happy. Christmas won that year, when I bought my very own, pre-lit, artificial tree. Mr. Boss also “won” when I agreed not to bestow upon him any Christmas gifts. And I knew not to expect any from him, either.
Christmas 2006 Already pregnant with our first child, I imagined what future Christmases would hold. Everyone told me that Mr. Boss would change his tune, once he had children, and I hoped for that, more than anything. Even so, I decided to “compromise” with him. I would not teach our children to believe in Santa. I thought it would be enough to get him to come around by the next year.

Our first Christmas as parents came the very next year, but there I was setting up my tree by myself again. And there was a December scowl pasted on the face of my beloved. Still, I was assured, when our children were old enough to get excited by Christmas, then I would see a change in my husband.
Christmas 2007 Our only child was just shy of 6-months-old, so I kept that Christmas small. The few gifts I bought for C were never wrapped, and were actually introduced to him a day late.

By our third Christmas we had two small children, and I began to wonder if Mr. Boss would ever warm up to the holiday season. Due to finances, and the ages of the children, I chose to have a simple Christmas, highlighted only by the sparkling, decorated tree. Loving ward members had a different idea, and a bag of gifts was dropped of at our door, although not as sneakily as those who made the delivery may have liked. (I still laugh at that memory... nearly running into two familiar men on their way to our door as I ran a bag of trash out to the dumpster.)

Christmas 2008 I overflowed with gratitude for the kindness we were shown that year.

I would be lying if I said I wasn't bothered by the mass-consumerism/commercialism/gluttony that seems to have become “traditional” Christmas. I think, in the past, I was blind to it, because I was caught up in it. All I knew about Christmas was beautiful decorations, perfectly wrapped parcels under the tree, delicious and rich foods, and all the shopping. I mean, I knew Christmas was about Jesus Christ, but at the same time, I wonder if I really did know.

Being married to a man who would like to have nothing to do with this entire month has caused me to step back and examine it myself and my celebration of holidays. And, when I did, the rose colored glasses came off quick.

On our fourth Christmas, I think mostly out of habit, or fear of the unknown, I tried again to have what I envisioned to be a “traditional Christmas”. This was the only year I did stockings. And, though there were few presents, I tried to make it look exciting and big. But at the end of it all, it just didn't feel right. Something was missing, the focus of our celebration was off.

Christmas 2009

When I pulled out the decor for our fifth Christmas, I left quite a bit in storage. I set up some lights in our windows, and I put up the tree, with the least amount of ornaments ever, and that was it. I had recently read some articles that inspired me to try a gift-free Christmas. And I tried my best to turn my focus from secular celebrations to the true meaning of Christmas. I tried to turn my focus to Christ.
Christmas 2010 Our fifth Christmas was far more simple than any before, and in our own home there were no gifts. But, as one might expect, loving family members did give, and the children received presents from grandparents, aunts and uncles.

On December 26th I was feeling quite downtrodden. I was confused and feeling like I'd failed. I felt like I had not only taken the joy and magic of a “traditional” Christmas from my children, but that I had failed to replace it with one that was truly centered on Christ. Instead, it seemed, we had fallen somewhere in the middle, and it all felt meaningless.
I had a faint idea of what I had wanted Christmas to be, but no vision or plan of how to get there. And I knew I didn't want to feel this way again in a year.


Christmas 2011 So, here we are, the Eve of my 6th married Christmas, my 5th as a mother, and... I'm feeling very similarly to how I felt nearly one year ago. I feel like nothing has changed, and I know that it is my own fault.

Because the children are a little bit older, I have been able to explain to them why we celebrate Christmas. (C knows: "it's to celebrate Jesus' birthday.") And I've had the opportunity to explain to them why we don't believe in/do Santa, while still teaching them not to ruin it for others. They seem to understand the reason for the season, and yet I still feel like we're missing something.
Like last year, we aren't doing gifts this year, (aside from the ones sent by loving grandmothers.) The gifts are fun and exciting, but in those moments when paper is being shredded and the contents inside revealed, I worry that the natural tendency is not to have thoughts of our Savior, but “what did I get?” The gifts are fun and exciting, but is it possible that they are too distracting? That they are extra fluff that blocks the view of the star, the stable, the child?

My question this Christmas Eve is, what can be done to return our thoughts to Christ this Christmas? Are the presents, the decorations, the decadent foods really necessary, or can a truly Merry Christmas be had without?
It is Christmas Eve, and it feels like it's too late to fully turn my focus to the real reason for the season, but the beautiful thing is this: it is never too late. I'm grateful that my church has set up a site with wonderful ideas and traditions to help in creating a more Christ-centered Christmas.
I hope that next year finds me better prepared to celebrate the birth of my Savior.

a Christmas miracle

5 years ago, Mr. Boss and I experienced our first Christmas as a married couple. I say "experienced" and not "celebrated" because I was the only one celebrating.
It's not really a secret that Mr. Boss does not like Christmas. In fact, he detests the entire month of December. Including his birthday, which happened to be today.
Anyway, for that Christmas 5 years ago, I bought myself a tree. For $25 (an extremely good deal) I bought a pre-lit, 6' tree. It was perfect and I was in love. And every year since then, usually on the day after Thanksgiving, I would set up and decorate that wonderful tree.
I think it was a Christmas miracle in itself, that I never had a problem with the lights.... and that Mr. Boss never followed through on his threats to take it out front, to destroy it, when it didn't come down on December 26th. ;)
Little did I know, as I was setting it up last year, that it would be the last time I would do so. I didn't realize that, in a few short months, I would be willing to part with the tree that had been so good to me. But it happened.As we were preparing for our move to Denver, we kept on feeling like we needed to down-size. We didn't know how much space we would have in our future residence, and we felt like it would be best if we either got rid of (donated), or left behind (in storage) some of our things.
In retrospect, as I am missing that tree, I wish that I had just put it in to storage. But what I did instead was the thing that I felt needed to be done at the time. Before committing, I consulted my darling, Mr. Boss.
"Hey.... If I donate this tree to the DI, can we... can we get a real tree next year?"
I could see the mental war going on in his head. Which was better? The fake tree that he never had to touch, or the real tree that he would end up tying to the roof of our vehicle?
"I will agree, on two conditions," he started. "First, we have to wait until the very last minute. Second, we have to get the most puny and pathetic 'Charlie Brown' tree."
Then came the war inside of my head. Is it worth it to get rid of this wonderful convenience, just so that I can have the smell of fresh pine that will accompany a future, pathetic tree?
Well, I made the hard choice and, soon after, said farewell to my old tree.

And then we mostly forgot about it. Until all things Christmas started popping up at our local retail establishments. That was when I began wondering what "waiting until the very last minute" would mean.
Once we turned the calendar to December I scanned through and decided that the 19th seemed late enough for him, yet would still give me a few days before Christmas to enjoy it. But, when I asked, Mr. Boss turned me down. He wanted to wait until Christmas Eve! (I was pretty sure I would die, and then give up hope, if I had to wait until then.)
Not long after making the request for a tree, and then being turned down, I felt like getting a tree was hopeless, and all but gave up on the idea.So... You can maybe, at this point, imagine my surprise when Mr. Boss says to me, just this afternoon, "If you get this living room in order, we can go and get a tree. ..Today."
Well, I flew from my spot on the couch, like it had suddenly caught fire, and got to work. Daylight was beginning to fade as I hurried through my work. I was making progress, but I was worried it wouldn't be "enough," or that I'd run out of time/daylight, and Mr. Boss would make me wait a little longer. But before I'd even vacuumed he was telling the children to find and put on their shoes! At that point I grabbed the vacuum and quickly passed it over the floor, and then got my own shoes.

I want you to know that I found the. perfect. tree. at the tree lot. But that dumb salesman ruined everything when he mentioned the much-less-expensive, "Charlie Brown trees". And then C, he didn't help one bit. E agreed with me on my choice of tree, but C was romanced by the idea of having his very-own, in-real-life, "Charlie Brown" tree, just like he'd seen in the Charlie Brown Christmas movie that we just returned to the library.

But a tree is a tree, and now, I've got one!Merry Christmas!

...Do you think I should point out to my dear Mr. Boss that it was kind of ironic for him to buy me a Christmas tree on his birthday...?