For the Love

For Valentine's Day I made Slice a recipe box.

Remember how he wanted one for Christmas, but I didn't get him one because he MADE ME PROMISE not to buy him any gifts?
(And because I am such a 'good' wife that I actually kept that promise?)

But- I'm always thinking of ways to encourage his cooking habits. Because I LOVE that Slice cooks, I really do. Not that I can't cook or I refuse (although I do prefer the baking side of food preparation), but this he-cooks I-eat cycle is such a beautiful thing; I just don't see why I should interfere with it.

So, about a week ago I had the idea to make a recipe box out of old library catalog cards, cookbook indexes and cast-off cardboard. I figured it would turn out either cute or really ugly.
(You know I'm not the craftiest person alive.)

After two days of sneaky work -much longer than I'd anticiapted!- it turned out mostly cute. I think.

Now I just have to leave it alone ....

it's Thursday again

This is what happens when The Photog stays in bed, even though I (sort of) asked him to take a picture this morning because it's Thursday.
What are we at now, 24 weeks? I don't even know exactly.
Maybe that's weird.

For those who are wondering, I have gained approximately 11 pounds. I still wear my regular clothes about half of the time, thanks to all those clothes I bought in college when I weighed more than I do even now (see here for details). I don't drink enough water, I don't exercise at all, and I eat a lot of oatmeal and fruit snacks. I also take naps when I can.
Obviously, not much has changed.

Baby has a favorite song - if jumping frantically and beating against the chamber through the entire thing is any indication of favoritism (see here for details). We sang it at the end of choir practice Sunday, and OH BOY can this child move.
He also gets excited whenever Daddy is around and talking. Practicing his golf swing in there, no doubt.
Too bad I won't be able to help with that.


Yesterday I went to German class to talk about Austria. I was so excited about it, I took almost an hour instead of the 20 minutes I was supposed to take .... whoops. This speaking opportunity made me realize three things:

1. I did not bring back anything from Austria for myself. Salt & Pepper shakers for Mom, miniature Black Forest clock for Dad, Mozart puppet for Em, nothing (except large clothes) for me. Check.
2. Gosh, I miss it! I miss the food and the old beautiful buildings, the churches, the opera. I miss hearing and speaking German every day. Someday I'll go back, just you wait and see.
3. I'm so lucky to have experiences to talk to foreign-language students about. Two classes in two months? (Seven countries in three years??)

SERIOUSLY, SO GRATEFUL that my life hasn't turned out the way I thought it would.

Fast Sunday hymns

Our ward organist, I am sorry to say, is one of those ward organists who plays every hymn at exactly half-speed.

(Note: I AM NOT ASKING FOR HIS JOB. I couldn't do any better, even if I did take that organ class at BYU, Mother. The class nearly kicked my trash.)

We all know that a hymn taken too fast can be irreverent, right? But hello, nothing takes the spirit out of a meeting like "True to the Faith" as a funeral march. Or any hymn as a funeral march. Also, when the organ registration gets louder and more boisterous with each verse and sometimes the chorus.

The good thing to be gained from such looooong hymns every meeting, I suppose, is the ample time to make faces at siblings. There were times when Matt and I barely made it through ... oh the pain.

(We've had the same organist for quite a while.)

(And last week at my uncle's funeral Slice actually said, "It's nice to hear a hymn played at the right speed!")

Anyway.

The other great thing about this brother is that yesterday he pulled a Pat Robertson, postulating to the ward that the snowstorm in D.C. is really a warning to our government. I'm sure he's not the only one who thinks so, but still, I squirmed in my seat, Slice kept telling me to be quiet - I WAS being quiet - while he blasted everything from health care reform to the national debt.

I love this church.

*image kifed from my friend Bree, who I hope doesn't mind! and who is a MUCH better organist than I am, I'm sure

"getting through"

So I keep reading these blog posts about "getting through January"
and "how to survive February"
as if winter was such a drudgery, it's a disappointment to wake up every morning.
As if we were better off dead.


Maybe it's just me - or maybe it's the two family funerals in six days that helps to put things in perspective - but if you are living life just to get through it, aren't you missing something?

Like LIFE?


And on a related note:
If you think winter is miserable and you live somewhere that gets ABOVE FREEZING temperatures during the day, or where you can go to a museum/swimming pool/restaurant/Target/non-school arts performance less than 30 miles away, or where you can BUY A SHAKE PAST 9:00 ON FRIDAY NIGHT, don't complain to me. Your woes are falling on deaf ears.
(Literally.)

Thank you.

Unexpected Calls

It's that time of year again.
(What time of year? You ask.)

Tax season.

I know it when my phone starts ringing/beeping/vibrating several times a day and I don't recognize any of the numbers - because my cell number is one digit off from our local H&R Block.
(H & R Block, how much do you pay your secretaries? I ask.)


The calls don't bother me much, but I am always intrigued when I get voicemails that go something like this: "Hi, my name is _______________ and I was calling to set up an appointment to get my taxes done. You can call me back at ___________."

Because what part of "Hi, this is Rachel's phone, sorry I missed you" is hard to understand?



Also.....

The Mayor (a former co-worker of mine, nicely enough) called me Friday to ask if I would like to be on the Housing Authority Board for the City. "You must have impressed somebody," he said.
(Or 210 people, I thought.)
(Kidding.)


I think I'll do it. Even though -or maybe because- I don't actually own a home here. Yet.

Am I the only one

>who thinks 3-D Ultrasounds are ultra-creepy?

>who gets really excited about finishing a bottle of lotion

(/toothpaste/shampoo/dishwasher soap)

so I can throw it away?

>who dreams about having a house with a REAL DRIVEWAY?

This is what he thinks is funny

Last night after the State of the Union address, I left Slice for a minute while he flipped through channels. I came back to find him lying on the couch, crying, curled up and unable to speak. Without saying anything he pushed play on the DVR and made me watch this commercial:

over and over and over. Maybe you've already seen it?

I didn't think it was that funny, myself, but I've never seen him laugh like that. Ever. So I sat and laughed at him while he laughed (and cried) at the commercial, played it over and over.

Now you know.

The Day that Carolyn Worked her Magic

Warning: hair post ahead.
Well, mostly hair.

Yesterday I was thinking about hair, and c jane, and identity, and of course pregnancy.
(My hair is GROWING NOW!)
("Do we have to get a newsflash every time your body does something?" --What movie, anyone?)

If you know c jane, you know that she mentions her stylist about once a week, because she visits her once a week, which is strange to me; I thought that didn't happen past 1972. My siblings and I used to make fun of my grandma for her weekly hair appointments. We thought she would never move to the Basin and leave her stylist behind. Then she did.

But if you know me, you know that I get my hair cut about twice a year. And I dye it dark every winter, by myself, to fix the two-tone summertime highlights. With semi-permanent dye so I won't have to keep up the process (roots are so tacky). Low maintenance, please.

So yesterday was one of those hair-cutting days.
I was so sick of my hair I complained about it every day for a week. It hadn't been cut since The Great Chop of 2009. I told Carolyn, "Surprise me." She did!

I loved it! And so did Slice! (Triple score.)

He loved it so much, in fact, that when I got home he made me pose for a photoshoot during Biggest Loser commercials.

But the only three pictures I liked are the ones posted here. And they don't show my face or my haircut that well.

I'm just not photogenic, okay?

Take my word for it, the haircut's awesome.

Yesterday I also wore maternity clothes for the first time. Five months pregnant and finally wearing maternity clothes. Sweet.

coming along

We've started choreography practices for our Center Stage show coming up in March, which I'm getting excited for, because it's going to be SO GREAT. The kids are really, really fun to work with.

(Also talented.)

My baby bump is now at the awkward stage where I don't always look pregnant, just kinda pudgy.

Today I went through my clothes and packed the ones I won't fit in for another year or so ....[fingers crossed].....

but we haven't really been taking pictures of the ballooning. The best/newest we've got,

included especially for Megan -

- because I think it's funny.

And, Slice is back in school (college classes, that is) and has decided he wants to be a Japanese teacher. I remind him that he will have to go to more school to be a teacher, but he thinks he can get around that somehow.

Huh.

And the Lesson for Today is....

Even if it's just a .22 Mag (revolver) and
you've shot a LOT BIGGER GUNS BEFORE
with no problems, and
your companions tell you
not to worry about it,

WEAR EARPLUGS.

Because you just might be the one who gets that impossible sound wave that goes straight through your ear.

And then you'll wait a month to find out that

it's nerve damage and
if you're one of the lucky 50%,
your hearing will come back, but
it will most likely take a year
or more.

Take my advice, and
Don't take your chances.

Over and out.