If wishes were fishes

The snowblowers are squealing full force outside this house, the Nublet is down for a nap and I honestly have no idea how he's sleeping through this racket.  Normally, a mouse fart could wake that kid up.  Having said that,  the karmic forces of the universe would dictate that he will now wake up promptly so I better hustle to finish this.  Did you know that "hustle" is one of my favorite words?  I like words that combine "s" and "t" where the "t" is silent.  I'm just giving you conversation topics we can discuss in case we ever meet which isn't likely but store that nugget of information away anyway okay because I'm horribly awkward in new social situations, or maybe just in general.

Did you have a good Christmas?  Mine was exactly how it should have been, minus the drive down to Connie and Lane's with my Grandma's squealing hearing aides causing the Nub to wail and gnash his teeth in protest and fear.  A chinese fire drill in Indianola solved that problem and I ended up in the back seat as consolation.  He stroked my hair and sucked his thumb and eventually calmed back down, right in time to get there.  It was fun.

We did eat.  We did sleep much.  I read both "The Hunger Games" and "Catching Fire" and have now moved on to "The Historian".  I also have an entire library book bag full of your other suggestions for when I finish that one.  Let's just hope I remember when they're due to avoid a $35 dollar late fee like last time  mmmkay?  SLC county libraries apparently go all Chuck Norris on you when it comes to late fees and now you know.

I can hardly believe that the last few days of 2009 are upon us.  I'm not sad to see it go, I've had better years in truth.  My KKR (beware if you click that link you will be visually assaulted with some awkward photos) sent me a package in the mail a few days ago, I sent her nothing of course, I'm a taker I tell you.  I take and take and give NOTHING IN RETURN.  Sorry KK, you love me anyway, right?  This package had all sorts of treasures, like a 2 lb bag of semi-sweet Ghiradhelli chocolate chips, and bags of Pirate's Booty, and a little owlet for the Nub to play with (yes, I still love owls), and a headband and a bracelet.  Now, I'm not much of a jewelry wearer, I only ever wear simple earrings and my wedding bands, and a smile of course.  BAM!

But this bracelet, this bracelet I like.

  
I've decided that little wishbone represents 2010 for me and I'm going to channel all the powers of The Secret  to make it through the next 12 months in much better shape that the last 12 months left me.

Wishing and hoping, and thinking and praying...

HAPPY NEW YEAR in two days!

swilling the good stuff

this child has no hope if he's already sucking down DP at the tender age of 16 months

shotgun?

and scene

feliz navidad

impart your wisdom

Christmas break, I say that like I'm still in college or something, anywho...

we're heading down to bunk in at Connie and Lane's for the weekend.  Which means extra hands to help with crazy 16 month old, which means free time for me to snake my dad's jumbo recliner and sit back with a book.

A BOOK,

I MIGHT HAVE TIME TO ACTUALLY READ A BOOK!

So I need some recommendations.  I want a book that will keep me enthralled, that is not hugely time consuming or major difficulty to get through, I am not down with that for the time frame I have.  Some sadness is okay, though I vote no for generally depressing since it is the holiday season and all.  

Now it's your turn, talk to me people.  

I recently read "The Help"just for the sake of reference, I know, I'm a bit late on catching that train...  

the moral of this story is you're ridiculous

Christmas Countdown

t-minus 5 days

gifts=wrapped

shopping=done

crafting=mostly done

weight gained thus far=I'm guessing about 4 lbs, refuse to verify, jeans still zip, fat rolls a bit more pronounced however

On that note, you know what bugs?  When tall people are sticks.  Short people, that's fine, be a stick, whatever.  I'm a solid girl, athletically built.  I can say that even though people who usually mark that box are lying to themselves.  What?  You know I'm right.  In my case though it's really true.  Broad shoulders, strong arms, solid thighs (that rub rub rub).  In high school I maxxed out more on leg press than my entire track team, everyone except my brother who is gigantor, him I did not beat.  Everyone else, yes.  Sometimes I think about a 2nd career in speed skating.  I think I have real potential what with my predisposition to giant thicky thick thighs, and the Kearns speed oval is right up the freeway or whatever.  The only problem would be figuring out how to skate on ice and squeezing into a lycra suit.  Minor details really.

I digress. I bring all this up because today I was blurfing (blog surfing) though this random lady's blog who'd just had a baby 2 months ago and was complaining about being fat.  She said her goal weight was 130 lbs.  130 LBS, and she's 5'10".  She currently weighs 165 and hates it.  Also, she has 5 kids.  Uh hi, I don't think I've seen 130 on the scale since somewhere around the 5th grade.

Who on earth is 5'10" and weighs 130 lbs after 5 kids? I'd pat myself on the back and go eat another Christmas cookie for weighing 165 lbs after having any kids!

Lady.  Reality is calling, it wants me to slap you in the face to check yourself before you wreck yourself.  I mean if you want to starve your poor little body into oblivion go right ahead.  Me, I like myself too much.  Plus 130 is borderline unhealthy for people my height.  Unless your name is Giselle Bundchen and you recently birthed out Tom Brady's baby.  For you I'm sure 130 is absolutely obese.

There is much to be said for frame and body type.

Even though this lady and I are the same height and currently roughly around the same weight, though she aspires to be much less, pretty sure I'd could  take her in a street fight.

Plus if we were pioneers she'd be the first to die between the two of us.

And that's what really counts.

weight ain't nothin' but a numba

I have no problems with food

My child is a difficult eater, obviously not a trait he inherited from me

am I alone in this?

tell me your secrets if otherwise, or join me in tearing my hair out

over at Rocky Mountain Moms Blog

if you write it you should put your name on it so I did

hey hey hey

I'm at Bloom today

come visit!

you can print it out and put it on your fridge if you want to

The cards are out and most likely all received at this point

so I'll share with you a reject from the

2009 familia de Verbie  Christmas card photo shoot

Happy Chrismakkuh

 from Yours Truly (sick of smiling), the easily distracted Red-Hawked Cockatoo

and Squinty McGee

who absolutely cannot be asked to open his eyes for a picture outside because it's so painfully bright and I'm being insensitive for even asking him to do it in the first place... the horror, the HORROR!

Oh Christmas Spirit, thy name is Prime Rib

Hell must have frozen over here in Zion because it's almost 12:30 pm and I am already up, fed, exercised, showered, dressed and ready for the day.  That's what I call a Christmas miracle seeing as how most days I don't get all of those things accomplished in succession or at any point at all.

It is T-minus 10 days and counting until Christmas is here.  I count Christmas as Christmas Eve because I almost like Christmas Eve as much as Christmas Day, don't you?  It's like a two day festival of self-indulgence, gluttony, satisfaction and total exhaustion, along with a great deal of tenderness, family time and spiritual fulfillment.  I'm getting a little worked up just thinking about it.  This could also have something to do with lunch the other day when my Connie said in passing, "I think I'll go pick up a big prime rib for Christmas dinner".  Ka-Ching!  Sign me up for that buffet.  I bought another pair of sweatpants in preparation so I could wear one on Christmas Eve, one on Christmas Day and then I have a few other backup options in case the situation gets dire.  Get your game face on, it's almost business time (did you hear they cancelled Bret and Jemaine? I'm heartbroken).

We typically do Christmas Eve with my shorter half's side of the family, and then this year we'll be sojourning to the promised land of Sanpete the next day for festivities with mine.  Let me assure you of one thing, my Connie knows how to put on a spread and people come for miles to partake of such goodness.  By people I mean all of the other relatives and random people she invites who I locked outside the door so there would be more left for me.  Now if that's not the true spirit of Christmas than slap me silly and call me Susan.

I really love Christmas, I love pretty much everything about it except maybe not the Santa themed lingerie I spotted in Macys the other day.  Sorry but my sugar lumps need a bit more than some red gauze and faux fur trim to keep them warm.

That side of Christmas I can probably do without.

Boba what?

I gave birth to the Nub 16 months ago today.

Those first few months of motherhood were rough, real rough.  Newborns are hard man.  You know what saved me from going absolutely beserk?  My Sleepy Wrap.  I wrapped that Nubbin up tighter than a burrito and wore that dang kid everywhere.  He stopped crying and went to sleep and I could do things like dip my chips in salsa and even go to the bathroom (yes I certainly did), because suddenly I had the use of both hands again.  Miracles people.  Absolute miracles.  It helped that I sort of loved wearing him around too, best accessory ever.  Plus there's all sorts of scientific research about the benefits of babywearing and you know how much I like research...

The Nub has since morphed into a 30 lb cinder block and I've been on the hunt for the next best carrier.  I love my Sleepy Wrap and ring sling still, but I needed something I could wear for a longer duration that didn't kill my back or weigh a ton like the Kelty kiddie pack we bought earlier this year for hiking

Enter the Boba which, not so coincidentally, is made by the manufacturers of Sleepy Wrap.  The Boba is a carrier meant for kiddos from age 1 until 4 or from 15-45 lbs.    

Things I like about it:

• it doesn't weigh a ton, less than 2 lbs to be exact, if I'm packing around a load like the Nub I certainly don't need any extra weight
• it's soft (100% organic cotton) and easily adjustable
• can be worn front or back-this feature I especially like
• the straps are padded and comfortable without being bulky
  
• the fabric isn't hideous, in fact I rather enjoy it
• I can get the Nub in and out of it without help
• The back is extra tall giving him additional support
• The weight limit goes up to 45 lbs-so we should have at least another 6 months out of it, right?  Hah!
  

Negatives:

• I really wish it had a pocket for my keys and phone and maybe a debit card, because carrying a purse or diaper bag while wearing your giant toddler too isn't exactly convenient.  
• $99 is steep.  Comparable for other carriers of this genre, but still...

If you're interested in a Boba for yourself I've got a little something to help out with that.  Boba is offering MLAK readers a little treat.  Enter the code MyLife at checkout and they'll give you a pony and saddle along with your carrier, okay not really but they will give you 10% off.  Not a pony but almost as good. 

This is honestly the best picture I could find, 

but I look so happy!  

Hooray Boba!
full disclosure: Boba didn't pay me anything to write this, they did however give me a healthy discount on my carrier.  Just so you know.  

link it up

hey hey hey

check out my follow up on Red Butte Cafe over at Sassy Scoops

it was good, take my word for it

really I'm complaining with a grateful heart

Ah hello there lovelies

I've been neglecting this spot in favor of attempting to wrangle the dumping ground of crazy that my life has become.  Like you all aren't as equally crazy, I know, it's just that you're probably better capable of managing such things.

Things like filing a small claim suit in an attempt to reclaim at least a piece of the 2 grand you gave a meth head mechanic to fix your broken jeep engine but who in exchange kept your damn jeep for over a month and in all reality didn't fix anything, who doesn't answer your phone calls and hides from you when you knock on his front door and on top of it all YOUR JEEP STILL DOESN'T WORK.

Things like trying to find a mechanic who will fix it for good this time in exchange for a batch of cookies and maybe dinner because that's all you've got left at this point.

Things like spreading yourself thin writing for different outlets, even doing a review or two (the apocalypse is nigh and don't get your panties in wad about it, there's something in it for you too should you likey) and figuring out how to make all your dreams come true and problems flit away without leaving the comfort of your sweatpants (if you can helps with this let me know).

Things like trying to contain my own disaster area while finishing up those last few Christmas projects sucking my life away.

Things like figuring out how to make time for everything else that falls in between (personal hygiene, laundry?).

Things like remembering how much you freaking love Christmas and how much you not so secretly love most of this insanity (except not the jeep junk) and how the Nublet makes Christmas even that much better if that's even possible at.all. I just don't know.

One of those things I've been doin' is joining up with Sassy Scoops, a group of smart, hot mamas focused on exposing the Utah scene for all of it's wonders and glory.  This is Zion after all, maybe come join us and high to Kolob or whatever while we find the best places to eat and better stuff to do than you ever thought possible 'round these parts.  Last night we had an estrogen festival at Vanessa's while noshing on fine baked goods provided by Dippidee.  My favorite part was the personalized cookies Dippidee provided to each of us based on our blog design.

unfortunately mine didn't last so long...

but awesome right?

Life is good when your "responsibilities" include baked goods made to look like owls.

Now if someone could just give my my 2 grand back, and a jeep that works,

 all will be well.

faja, you know, dad

'alo Papi

My Padre, Mr. Connie, the lesser-known-but-just-as-important half of the wonder team behind my conception

their superior genetics combined produced yours truly

nice work you two

nice work

the fishbowl effect

I feel like I have a lot of things to tell you

like about how I'm so congested it feels like a Mack truck is parked in my sinuses

Or how I've left my Christmas sewing mess strewn about the living room for the past week, assuredly driving everyone who lives in this house absolutely bonkers.

Listen, I'm sorry, I'll clean it up, I promise.  I just have like 5 more things to sew which could take the rest of the month with my track record so don't hold your breath for that one to happen anytime soon.

My mom called me this morning to ask me if I wanted to go with her to the holiday home tour down in her Sanpete town.  I think I hurt her feeling when I replied,

"Mom, I never want to go on that home tour again, ever".

Let me explain.  Usually when you hear the words "home tour" it means touring through some gigantorous new homes with professional decorators and floor coverings and furnishings more expensive than your entire family's life worth put together, and you go to gawk because a. never in your entire existence on this earth will you ever accumulate enough money to be able to afford such things and b. even if you did you'd spend it on things like buying all the starving children in America a Happy Meal, because you're philanthropic like that.  Home tours in Sanpete County, Utah are different.  It's just the homes of regular people, some of who had the idea that decorating for the holidays included tacking up wrapping paper on the walls with a stapler and replacing their regular light bulbs with red and green ones, you know, because it's more festive that way.  Or the other people who were trying to sell their house and put up one measly Christmas tree and took you through the home treating you like you were potential buyers and pointing out square footage and pedestal sinks.  Or the other people who had so many pictures and trinkets and items of clothing and even a chair hung on their walls that one could not even tell what color the walls might be underneath, or if they even existed anymore.  I will say this, I was a wee bit intrigued when my mom said "but the straw house is on the tour this year, it's a house built entirely out of straw and mud and it looks cool!"  Tempting Mother, tempting.  But remember that a house built out of straw and mud didn't do one of the three little pigs any good so what was it going to do for me?  I think I'll pass.

Ah Sanpete, the best part about you is the crazy.

I gotta go blow my chapped nose now for about the billionth time.

Happy Friday

 

don't take any of this seriously

It's 11:26 pm, I am drowsier than a drunk elf the day after Christmas. 

Thank you melatonin, I love you, in an all natural and herbal sort of take me to bed or lose me forever kind of way. 

Seriously, I can't even type straight and I keep hitting my mouse tracker pad randomly,

this is going downhill fast.

Today I shared a dressing room with my pregnant sister.  We managed to get into the same pair of jeans which normally would be fine, except one of us is pregnant and the other is not.  Sorry, but pregnant people and non-pregnant people should not be able to share jeans.  It's a grounding rule of the universe or whatever.  Look it up.

I had kielbasa for dinner, and waffles.  You wouldn't think those two things would go together normally, but they DO I will testify.  Also good with waffles: fried chicken.  Believe that.

I read this blog where this guy ends every post with "all the love in the universe" and it just seems off to me.  I mean how on earth could he be signing off with all the love in the universe when just referenced someone with a four letter word?  I think I should sign off with the tag line "I don't know most of you and sometimes that creeps me out but if you feel so inclined than send money and we'll call it good".  

Soon my pretties, maybe even tomorrow I'll write about how for a teeny tiny minute the Buckle at University Mall made me feel like maybe I'd missed something in the Utah shopping/fashion scene, until I wised up and realized there was no such thing.

carry on