holy cow, $15.95?

Meet the newest book in our household:

"Machines at Work: Bulldozers," a 24-page hardcover masterpiece at $15.95 is the most expensive children's book we own. For me, who tends to buy second-hand books for 69 cents from Value Village, this was a big purchase.

If you, unlike me, would like to stay away from the expensive books, here is some advice:

When your child has a really bad diaper rash and isn't feeling well, and you decide to let said child run around diaper-less to "air out" the area, please realize that even if you have a cloth diaper nearby to catch accidents that you are not fast enough to catch accidents, and please consider that when your bottom-less child wishes to sit down with you and read books that you read books you actually own instead of library books. Because purchasing a library book from the actual library due to a "biological incident" on said book is unfavorable and akin to highway robbery.

That's all. Just some advice. Anyone want to borrow our new book? (Yeah, didn't think so.)

upside down

For Father's Day, I bought Shane an upside-down tomato planter. He loves loves loves grape tomatoes, and I thought it would be a fun gift, plus we'd have our first "garden." Well, the truth is, I had hinted I wanted one for Mother's Day, and then afterward he told me he had thought about getting me one for Mother's Day (why didn't you!?!) but he hadn't realized I had hinted. Ah well. If you want something done, do it yourself, right? So I bought him one.

But, despite the terrific gift idea, I was extremely irritated. Why?

I had to make not one, but two return trips to the store.

First, the upside-down tomato planter kit doesn't include a tomato plant. How was I supposed to know?! I'm not brilliant when it comes to gardening. (In fact I perhaps should disclose that all of our house plants die.) I thought maybe there was a teeny compact seedling thing included, but no. We were all excited to put it together on Father's Day, but we had no plant. OK.

Second, I needed way more soil than I had on hand. How was I supposed so know how much that upside-down tomato planter would hold? It holds a lot.

I'm irritated because I totally think they should put in bold letters on the box, "All you need to get your upside-down tomato plant going is this kit, a tomato plant, and xx-lbs of top soil." They really need to say that.

Of course, the more I spend on this plant, the more I wonder if it's "worth it," so my running tally is:

• $9.99 - upside down tomato planter
• $0.99 - tomato plant
• $5.99 - upside down tomato plant fertilizer (I got suckered into the marketing at the store)
• $2.99 - big bag of potting soil (is that even the right kind? I was in a hurry. I just bought something that looked like dirt... hmm look, it's for African Violets! Yeah I'm an idiot.)

So, I've in essence doubled my investment.

Plus, the timing wasn't perfect. They say you need to plant tomatoes by the end of June for it to be worth it. We went away for 4th of July and planted them as soon as we got home. Here is our sad little tomato plant the day it was ready to go:



Shane made serious fun of me for the tomato plant. He said I got the worst one in the store. I didn't think it looked that bad, but again, let me mention again, I don't know much about plants.

Another big challenge was that this is a hanging planter, right? Well, we live in a condo. The obvious solution is to screw a thing into our balcony ceiling and hang our planter. Well... that is against our condo's House Rules. We're not allowed to "breach the building envelope" or something like that, because moisture can get in there and rot and then the Association has to deal with it. Therefore, any hole in a "limited common element" (like our balcony) is against the rules. And seeing as how I am president (oh glory!) of the Condo Association, I really felt like we shouldn't break the rules.

The planter hung off our decommissioned bicycle handles for awhile (pictured above). Then the tomato plant started growing upwards... so weird. It was like it knew there was a floor there.

Then Shane came to the rescue. He bought some stuff at Home Depot and engineered (aka jimmy rigged) a hanging rung for me, without screwing anything into the balcony. That Shane is a keeper!! (I must note, this adds another $10 or $15 to the running tally though... sigh.)


Here is our bad boy tomato plant today:


Um, wow. It has grown into a crazy monster. It's too bad you can't see it really well, because of all the greenery behind it. But seriously, comparing that "then" and "now" photo is really wild. I'm proud of myself; I've remembered to water it every day. And, if you look really closely, you'll see two of these (bottom left corner)....


Itty bitty green tomatoes. I hope they turn red before the weather turns cold. I'll be more prepared next year.

donate, sell, chuck: what do you do?

At the beginning of the year, I decided it was time to purge some stuff. I'm keeping a lot of Wesley's baby stuff (wishful thinking to do the whole pregnancy-birth-infant thing again some day), and I needed room to accommodate clothes and toys and baby junk.

I made several piles. They were:

• Stuff I want to try to sell on eBay (i.e., an exhaust fan timer, a PlayStation, a new Boeing hat, etc.)
• Stuff no one would probably pay for, so let's just give it to Value Village or Deseret Industries (i.e., clothes, a lampshade, free logo-ridden canvas bags, etc.)
  
• Stuff to toss (some really grimy kitchen pans, holey t-shirts, dead lamp that went with the lampshade, etc.)
  
• Stuff that I don't know which of the above three categories they fit in.
  

Let's talk through this.

Sell: It's nice to sell things on eBay, especially since anything with a list price of 99 cents is free to list. But, it's a hassle. I hate figuring out ahead of time what shipping will be, because if I only make 99 cents and don't charge enough shipping, I'm eating into my "profits" to just unload the darn thing. Plus, sometimes things are just dang expensive to ship, I have to wonder if it's even worth it. I had an old blender I sold, but with all the fees and miscalculated shipping (since I only got 99 cents for it!), I actually paid eBay like 70 cents just to sell it. I might as well have just thrown it away!! I suppose I feel better about myself for giving my blender a new life, but was it worth it? Bleh.

I'm finding there are many things I'm listing on eBay over and over and over again. I had a cookbook for burgers (I just don't grill burgers, um, ever), and I knew someone would want it. Right? I listed that sucker at least 5 times. Finally someone bought it -- for $1.04.

Criagslist seems OK for big things, but most of the things I want to get rid of are small. I'm not going to sell a set of napkin rings or a book on Craigslist. That kinda stuff is for eBay or Amazon. Plus, an unpleasant part about Craigslist are the "flakes" who say they desperately want something then never call you back. Whatever. I only get good responses when I give stuff away for free.

Donate: I don't mind donating, but I question myself. Is my stuff in decent enough shape to donate? Part of me wonders if the second-hand place just throws it away anyway (something I didn't have the courage to do). Take these items for example:

• I have winter coats that are old and seem nice, but on one the zipper doesn't work, and on the other (a leather coat!!), the elastic fabric around the wrists has holes in it. They are just worn out, really.
  
• I have shirts that I don't wear anymore, but they have stains on them (and let's just be real with each other, those stains may never ever come out). Does this mean they're worthless?
  
• I've tried selling that dang PlayStation at least five times on eBay, and no one buys it. (Do I keep trying? Like that burger book?)
  

I think donating is great, and it's super "green." I much prefer the lampshade from my dead lamp to go to a home that needed a cheap lampshade over a landfill. Then I realize, um, Ikea has really cheap lampshades. Who's going to want my used in-good-shape lampshade when it's cheap to get a new one?

Although, I want to admit here and now, I shop at Value Village. Just this week I got a killer lattice spice rack (I've been searching for one on eBay for months) and a set of salad tongs. I feel great. But I guess my issue is: could other people feel great about my stuff?

Toss: So the last option, I guess, is realizing that what I have is worthless junk and it is time to throw it away. It was a big deal when I chucked that grimy saute pan. I was really proud of myself. But I knew it wasn't in good shape, and a house that didn't have a saute pan wouldn't even want this one.

So, how do I know if my stuff is in good shape or not? What's the litmus test? If a nasty sautee pan is on one end of the spectrum, and a cute baby outfit with tags still attached is the other end, what is the line where something goes from "sellable" to "donatable" to "chuckable only" ???? I guess I'm just struggling and am wondering what you guys do.

I like making money! I feel good donating things! It feels so wrong to toss stuff! But I'm at my wits' end trying to figure out what goes in which category. I'd love comments.

PS. How often to you purge your place?

watch those expletives, folks

Kids listen to everything you say. Wesley started saying this Sunday night and I realized, whoa, he soaks up everything. I'm glad I'm a G-rated exclaimer!

being released

Well, it’s over. For the last two and a half years, I had the incredible opportunity to work with the Young Women at Church.

Let me recount it for you:

In March 2008 one of the Bishopric members of our ward met with me. I had been serving as the Enrichment Leader, and it was a fun calling. I planned fun activities for the sisters of the ward to do, like picnics and dinners and cooking parties and card-making nights. I’m good at event planning! I’m good at making friends and working with people and doing fun things and helping everyone have social excitement, you know?

Well, the Bishopric member asked me to serve as the secretary of the Young Women organization. This is so much more than just a Sunday calling. It’s a Wednesday night calling. It’s a lot of stake-training-nights calling. It’s a whenever-someone-needs-you-respond calling. Through the years we made care packages for babies and sick friends and surprised people for birthdays and made lots of treats for functions and had parties on a lake and more. (And there was so much I didn’t go to!) Yes, it’s a busy calling. A demanding calling with "extra-curriculars," I'd say.

I was immediately terrified. One, I remembered how I was as a 12- to 18-year-old girl: Indignant! Stubborn! Bratty! Oh dear, would the girls I was asked to serve be like I was? I never wanted to work with the youth. And second, I didn’t really feel like much of a good example. Many of you know me well and know my husband hasn’t been to Church for years. How can I show these girls the value of a gospel-centered family, when I didn’t have that myself? The Bishopric member assured me that I was a good example simply because I kept my faith when things weren’t perfect. He knew I’d do a great job, and the Lord wanted this.

OK, then. Here we go. Not without much crying, but anyway.

The presidency was all called and sustained one Sunday, and the hardest part was that one of the women I replaced, one of my friends who was released, was just devastated. She was so sad. And the whole time I remember thinking, “well, give her my job! She can stay! I’ll go, it’s no big deal to me!” I didn’t feel worthy. And, as I’ve referenced before, I hate it when people say “congratulations” when you receive a new calling, so all day I wanted to slug people in the halls at Church. Look, friends, I didn’t ask for this. Please don’t congratulate me.

And so I went to work. I was really nervous at first, but I slowly got to know the girls. I was super intimidated by some of them – really cute sweet girls. Then, lucky me, our cat-sitter when we lived in Seattle moved into our ward. She was 8 when she watched our cat, and now she was 13! She was in the Young Women. I had a friend! And she was so glad I was there. And pretty soon, the daughter of one of my visiting teachees turned 12, and I had even been in her primary class for awhile. I knew some of these girls; nothing to be scared of!.

I saw myself start to change. In the YW they have the Personal Progress program, and as a leader you can work on it again. I finished the program when I was a girl and had already been recognized for it, but I decided to do it again. I memorized hymns and read interesting books (still working on Jesus the Christ) and worked on my family history and found ways to serve strangers. I firmly believe, looking back, that I was called into YW so I could work on myself. I don’t know if the girls got anything out of my involvement with them, but I know I got to know myself better as a wife and mother and person and daughter of God by doing my Personal Progress. It made me get on my knees. It made me open my scriptures. When I wanted to sulk, I instead sought comfort. It has been a wonderful couple of years.

I got to do great things! We made desserts for fund-raisers. We had sleepovers! We did scrapbooky-y crafts and delivered cookies at Christmas and became friends on Facebook and manned a booth at the Halloween party and went to the temple and felt the Spirit.

I was making some sweet young friends. There are lots of great babysitters in the Young Women. They are funny and sincere, and they are trying to do what’s right when it’s super hard. I had two girls over once to make an apple pie and they told me about how their friends at school were pregnant. I was able to tell other girls about how awesome BYU is, and how going there changed my life. Plus, these girls taught me about Twilight and Justin Bieber and texting, for heavens sake!

I’m a better person because of my time with them. I love them. The more I got to know them and saw their strengths and their struggles, my heart ached for them when things were tough and my heart sung for them when they succeeded.

Fast forward to now. Our Young Women President’s husband was called as the Bishop of our ward. Wow. The demands on a family of those two callings together are just too great, so it was understood she’d be released. She had served in YW for more than three years, as president for 2.5 of them. The old Bishopric liked to tell us how great we were as a presidency, that we all worked together so well. I though of us as a “well-oiled machinery that is the YW presidency.” I was in a bad mood when Bishop Valentine was called. I didn’t want this chapter in my life to end.

Isn’t that funny? I didn’t want it to end. Me who was devastated at first didn’t want it to end.

But, at the same time, I knew I was stressed out. Remember this post? My brain was too full, I couldn’t hold anymore information. As much as I wanted to keep going (and I even emailed some people asking them to let me keep going!), it was time for me to be finished with this responsibility. Just as the Lord knew two years ago that being called was what I needed, the Lord knew now that being released was what I needed.

I was talking to my boss about it at work, telling her how bummed I was that I was released. She's the one who pointed out to me that maybe this was a good thing. Maybe it was good I had some free time back to myself. She, not a member of my faith, even said maybe someone was watching out for me. She was right, and I hadn’t looked at it that way. This was a totally good thing, but I didn’t recognize it. Just like I hadn’t recognized it before.

My last hurrah as a YW leader was on Wednesday. Our girls were at camp this week. Girls camp is awesome. There is singing and swimming and knot-tying and bead earning and friend making and more. I loved camp. I made some great great friends at camp that I still have today. (I need to call some of them!) Our girls were experiencing that this week.

On Wednesday, all the ward YW leaders are invited up for “Ward Wednesday.” Nothing big was going on; we just got to hang out with the girls all day! I have an awesome friend who was willing watch Wesley for seven hours that day! Lucky me! I dropped him off before 11 AM, and drove up to camp in Cle Elem with another leader. Shane got Wesley when he got off work at 6 PM. I stayed at camp until almost 10 PM, didn’t get home until close to midnight!

I did the slip and slide! I ate camp-style taco salad! I used the port-a-potty! I earned three beads! I got mosquito bites! I wore a pink "Chicks Rule" shirt! It was awesome.

My last act as a leader was to share my testimony with them. All the girls have mailboxes at camp, so I made them some mail. I did it “wedding invitation” style (haha), where I had a transparent sleeve with a scripture on it (not vellum, thanks to Kinkos, but I still think it turned out awesome!), a picture of the Savior, and a piece of cardstock that I wrote a note to each of them on. I put all three pieces together with a fancy paperclip and ribbon. They turned out so well! I want to make more – and make one for myself!

(transparencies with scriptures)

+

(my slicer dicer)

+

(Christ and paperclips)

+

(blue ribbon)

=

(really cute mail)

Here is the scripture:

“And now, after the many testimonies which have been given of him, this is the testimony, last of all, which we give of him: That He lives! For we saw him, even on the right hand of God; and we heard the voice bearing record that he is the Only Begotten of the Father — That by him, and through him, and of him, the worlds are and were created, and the inhabitants thereof are begotten sons and daughters unto God.” ~Doctrine & Covenants 76: 22-24

I really love how the "That He Lives!" is right smack dab in the middle of the photo. It turned out so well.

It was wonderful writing notes to each of the girls. They are so special. I wanted them to know how much I love them. And, I wanted them to know I know the Savior lives. He comforts me when no one else can. He knows why it is he asks me to do certain things, and through keeping my faith in Him, I usually figure out why as well. It’s incredible. I’m so glad I have Him in my life, to take my troubles to, so I can feel peace amid the confusion. I wanted each one of those girls to know that. I’m so glad I made the decision when I was their age to stick with the gospel. It has made my life worth living, truly.

I’m grateful I know this is true. I’m grateful that through Him I am changed for the better. Wow. And now, I am on to bigger and better things, right? No matter what is in store, I know it’ll be right, and I have my Savior to thank for that knowledge.

So, off I go on more adventures. What shall I do with all my free time? Blog? Haha....

why i love my family, part 5

Happy Birthday, Bradley!! My "baby brother" is 25 today. And I love him. Here are some great reasons why:

• The best part about growing up with Brad is that he was this crazy loose cannon. You never knew what was going to come out of his mouth next. He was fearless! Once, Mom was mad at him for something and was carrying on about how the entire house wasn't his "personal space," and then Brad said back to her, "so what, is it your personal space?" My brother Kurt and I laughed for hours.
  
  
  (LOL! Brad is in blue.)
  
  
  
• In the same vein, Brad was so "thoughtful" as a child. For Christmas he'd get Mom gifts like toilet bowl brushes and ice cube trays. Seriously. As he got older though, I think he started to give great gifts. One year he got me a digital picture frame (so cool) and last year he bought Shane a "World's Greatest Dad" shirt. Really thoughtful (please don't ever buy me a toilet bowl brush).
  
  
• The truth is, Brad and I fought like cats and dogs when we were little. We never wanted to sit near each other in the car. We just got mad a lot. I don't remember all the details, nor why. It seems so silly now! I guess big sisters just like to tease little brothers. I'm really glad that we grew up and just, all of a sudden, had stuff in common. And laughed. And loved each other.
  
  
• I don't know why this is hilarious, but it is: Brad loved to hack down brush in the woods. We lived in the country and our backyard was a lot of brush and weeds and growth and trees and who knows. He'd take a big stick or a baseball bat and just go out there and entertain himself all afternoon. He'd come back this crazy sweaty mess but he was super happy. It was mildly entertaining.
  
  
• Brad was the one that crazy stuff always happened to. There was always a new story about what was up with Brad. He's the only one of us who ever broke a bone. He was always doing this or that with the Boy Scouts. He went to concerts and played in Jazz bands and always had girls calling home that we'd tease him about.
  
  
• At one point, Brad was a real snoozer. He'd sleep in for hours. He had like 3 alarm clocks in his room and he'd have to set them all to go off a few minutes apart so he could drag himself out of bed and turn them off and wake up. Once, mom told us this story about how when Kurt was a little boy and Brad was a newborn, Kurt would go up to Brad and just poke him. Like, he didn't realize it was a real baby and not a toy or something. Poke poke poke. I thought that was funny and figured, what the heck? why break tradition? So when Brad was trying to wake up I'd run in his room and start poking him. I thought it was hilarious. He laughed too but I think secretly he wished he could beat me up.
  
  
• One day, when we were kids, Kurt and I decided we wanted to be tennis players. I don't know what possessed us. We went and bought rackets and started playing. We weren't half bad, actually. Well, soon enough, Brad decided he needed to play with us. He was a third wheel, of course, but we let him play. And what actually ended up happening is that Brad got better than both of us. He was a crazy machine on the high school tennis team. (Weren't you, Brad?) To this day I love playing tennis with my brothers. Even the three of us together was great fun -- no one felt left out. We'd do all sorts of trash talking and make inside jokes and have a lot of fun.

• One year for Brad's birthday, he was on the Atkin's diet. We've all tried the low-carb craze and it definitely sheds the pounds! But a birthday!? There couldn't be a more terrible time to be on a diet. I decided I was going to make him a "birthday surprise" out of hamburger patties, scrambled eggs, bacon, hot dogs, and cheese. I wrote "Happy Birthday, Brad!" on the hog dogs with ketchup like frosting. He was in such a good mood about his low-carb birthday and really loved the surprise. I would have been super depressed without sugar on my birthday, but not Brad.
  
  
• Some of my favorite memories are the summers when I was home from college. I worked at a restaurant and one day my white shirt wasn't dry. Oop. Brad had the great idea that I hang it on the ceiling fan in the living room and let 'er rip. It was the funniest thing I ever saw. I took a picture of my shirt spinning around on the fan, and Brad just sitting there on the couch looking devious. We had some good times.

• I remember one summer we shipped Brad off to Especially For Youth. EFY is an awesome time for anyone, but I could hardly believe what happened to Brad. He came home and gave us an FHE lesson about Joseph Smith, and I think I looked at Mom and Kurt and thought, "Who are you and what have you done with my brother?" It was seriously crazy to see Brad affected by such a spiritual experience, and I was glad I was there to share in the Spirit and hear all about it.
  
  
• Brad was the only one of my brothers who could come to my wedding. Kurt was on his mission at the time. I'm glad you were there to spend my special day with me, Brad! He got to meet Shane before we were married and he immediately loved him and thought Shane was so cool. It was good to have my brother's approval!
  
  
• One of my favorite things to do (I don't know when this started!!) is take pictures of Brad from the vantage point that buildings are coming out of his head. So far, we have the Space Needle, Chrysler Building, and U.S. Capitol. We need to go on many more vacations, huh Brad? Eiffel Tower, maybe? These photos are just hysterical.
  
  
  (case in point...)

• Brad earned his Eagle Scout award. I'm so proud of him for that. What a good kid.
  
  
• I'm also proud of Brad for serving a mission. He went to Budapest, Hungary, and spoke probably the hardest language ever. Well maybe not, but close. I had lots of friends who served in that mission, too! A couple of them even gave him a pep talk on the phone and lent him some books. He was so excited when he got his mission call and he embraced his Church service. He loved it. I wrote him and sent packages and missed him and supported him. Nice work, little bro.
  
  
• Brad was famous for 15 minutes when he joined the BYU Marching Band. How cool is that? He got to go to football games all over the area and he made great friends and he even went to a March Madness tournament. I felt like I knew a superstar.
  
  
• When we were kids, there was the family in our ward with one cute little girl. She was all curls and smiles and all my memories are of her toddling around the Church building. Her name was Leslie. The boundaries were redrawn and her family all of a sudden was in another ward, and I didn't see her again for years. Brad didn't see her again for years, either. She grew up and met up with Brad before his mission and they had a few fun dates, and I'll be darned if she didn't write him on his mission, date him when he came back, and married him! Brad, you have the cutest wife ever! We sometimes can't believe that cute girl with curls turned into a gorgeous young lady and picked you as a husband! What a great family I have.
  
  
  (my hub and I with the lovely couple on their weddin' day)
  
  
• I like to give Brad a hard time for being a stinker sometimes, like he doesn't call our Mom enough or money burns a hole in his pocket. But Brad is so sweet, and he always listens to me and says he is going to be better. I imagine he is just humoring me, or wishing I wouldn't give him such a hard time, but he's a good sport about everything. I love you Brad! You're a good guy. Just keep doing your best and that will always be enough for me.

OK that's enough. Memories just keep coming to me! I must stop or I'll go on forever!! I've written more that I wrote about my husband and son, sheesh. Brad, have an awesome birthday! I'm glad you're my bro forever! You're nuts!

P.S. Just one more part left! Our saga concludes in September!