Wednesday, June 30, 2010

I can't fry an egg, but almost

It is warm up in this house.  

Today is the last day of June and we have yet to turn on the AC because we're playing some dumb game with ourselves to see how long we can last before we absolutely have to.  It's like when I was little and my brothers used to say "let's play this game and if I win you lose and if you lose I win" and I was all like "OKAY!".  Go figure.    

Except the real winner in this case has to be our utility bill, or I guess that's what we're shooting for?  All I know is I retreat to the only room with a ceiling fan, our bedroom, in the afternoon when it gets most sweaty and here I lay prostrate until otherwise summoned.  

The insomnia and general exhaustion of ye olde 3rd trimester has begun to set in I fear.  I woke up this morning remembering the last time I checked my clock (2:56 am) and instantly felt like I should eat something and go back to bed for at least 4 more hours.  Except I had a crazy haired midget yelling for "juice" and frantically signing "food" to pay attention to so that idea quickly flew out the window.  I don't really know how you people pull off this pregnancy stuff when you have multiple children already running around.  You're all heroes in my book, HEROES I TELL YOU.  I can hardly manage the one.  

Also, this is what happens around here when you wash windows and leave the bucket unattended for 5 seconds:

What are your big plans for the holiday weekend?  Where are you going to watch fireworks?  Is there some place I don't know about that offers the best views and easiest escape route?  Us?  I think we might make a pit stop in Sanpete and then back up for whatever is going on around here, like popsicles and the kiddie pool.  Woo woo!!  I love America!

Monday, June 28, 2010

Hackworth part deux

Remember how Connie and I did this sort of awesome photoshoot and we met Justin Hackworth and I told him a really funny joke that's actually more dumb than funny?  Don't worry, he gave me a few courtesy laughs anyway.  Well anyway, the gallery exhibit/fundraiser is this Friday, July 2nd in Provo.  

Won't you join me and my 30 Stranger peers during the exhibit this Friday, July 2nd in Provo? 

You can find the deets (HERE), it's going to be epic!  Right?  I don't know, I've never been part of a photography exhibit before!  I'm excited and nervous.  And I hope there's food, I always hope there's food though.  Also, bring your checkbook.  This is a fundraiser after all.  But you don't have to if you don't want to but if you can that'd be awesome.  

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

tik tok

I can't help but feel like a countdown clock is ticking away in relation to my uterus.  It's the end of June.  I can say that because it's the 22nd and that is more towards the end than the middle or beginning (sound logic, find it here) and I've got roughly 2.5 more months of these extended nap times to enjoy before it's back to sore boobies and spending all day with my shirt pulled up.  


I said boobies.    

Also, I was right about the 2 year molars, saw one peeking through today.  Turns even when I don't know crap about something I can still be a mothering savant.  There is hope for us all.  

Here's this, taken on Father's Day:

Because gang signs, white boys, and fatherhood go hand in hand.  

Getting back to my ticking uterus, life is going to get so much more crazy in September, at least that's what I keep working myself up about.  It's like I have these voices arguing in my head.  One says "FREAK OUT", the other says "RELAX", and then a third one pipes in and says "ENJOY YOURSELF WHILE YOU CAN!", and then a fourth one adds "FEED ME NOW".  It's all very confusing and you can see how emotionally, I am in no state to do anything other than obey the fourth voice.  It's amazing I don't look like Shamu's long lost sister, yet.    

The thing about the ticking is that even though it might get urgent at times, it's never been ominous in an "oh holy crap what are we in for?" sort of way.  When I'm lucid I realize that two are indeed better than one and that this is all going to be awesome, maybe not all the time but in the big picture view, you know?  Besides, with my abilities to harness all the powers of the secret, this kid is going to come out sleeping 8 hours and eating like a chow hound.  It can happen, yes it can.  

So I guess I should just put that ticking on the back burner and go rustle up some dinner.  

Friday, June 18, 2010

because I'm a giver

I gained 6 lbs at my last appointment.  It may, or may not, have anything to do with the fact that I cannot stop eating, baked goods specifically.  I realize 6 lbs is not above normal and that that likely I'll beat that monthly sum here in these coming weeks, but for me at this point it was a substantial gain.  

Not substantial enough for me to stop, but still...  

Several years ago, my Ma and some of her extendeds put together this family recipe collection and had it bound up at Kinkos or something.  I never used it really until about 4 years ago when I foraged into wifely duties.  Now it's splattered with food and covered in handwritten notes.  There's some good stuff in there, good enough that if I gave you some of the recipes, I'd have to kill you.  Except today I'm feeling generous so I will share just one, seeing as how it's Friday and all and you might be looking for some muffins to make this weekend.  

These are a staple in our house.  I make them at least once or twice a month, lately more.  They come together quick, taste amazing alone or when paired with butter and maybe even jam.  My kid loves muffins, and that is a double bonus because  

Brown Sugar Muffins
1/2 C butter softened
1 C brown sugar
1 egg
1 tsp vanilla
cream together and add
1 tsp soda
1/4 tsp salt
2 C flour
1 C milk

Don't worry about mixing your dry ingredients before adding them, just throw it all in there together then fill each muffin cup (or sprayed muffin pan) about 3/4 full.  Bake at 375 degrees for about 15 min or until a toothpick comes out clean.  Makes 15 muffins, even though a regular muffin tin only holds 12.  I don't know why and I'm not going to mess with it to figure it out.  My solution: pour the excess into a mini bread loaf pan and you'll have a muffin loaf, just like my midsection.  Everyone wins.  

This morning I changed it up a little, substituted 1 C regular flour for 1 C Whole Wheat flour (making the recipe 1 C. white flour, 1 C WW flour), as well as added 1 Tbsp of ground flax and made the 1 C of milk a generous one.  Turned out great, a little less sweet perhaps but WE ARE SACRIFICING FOR OUR HEALTH HERE!

I would have taken pictures and all but I don't care that much.  Take my word for it.  They're good.     

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

there's no such thing as too close, right?

I live really close to my family now, not that we lived far before, but like really close.  As in my Grandma is next door, my cousins downstairs from her, and an uncle somewhere far too close for comfort.  Someone quick, explain to me why most all uncles, not just mine, are weirdos?  I use that term semi-affectionately but mostly accordingly.  Is it that function, that position in life as an uncle that makes a man weird or was he weird all along and this is just par for the course?  Bless their jolly, jelly bowl filled middles, everyone has weird uncles so I certainly don't feel alone.  

But this extremely close proximity of family thing, it has it's benefits.  I love having my cousins next door.  They own 4 kids and they're good kids, not the annoying kind that make you want to use two different forms of birth control just in case.  No, happy kids who like having my kid around and help him to realize how great it is to have siblings.  Or at least that's how I play it out in my mind.  All I know is about 20 times a day he slides open the screen door and books it across the path to their place where I find him 5 minutes later trying to scam cookies or steal a tricycle or something.  And my grandma?  Well I like having her there too, she makes killer rolls.  Plus I randomly look out the back window and find her hoeing my garden every now and then.  Remember when I talked about Granny slave labor?  Cash in on that.  The elderly are the new child labor force now that they put the kibosh on 5 year olds.  Put your grandparents to work instead I say!  

Also, if you're ever interested in knowing my family history,  I'll put you in touch with Thel.  No really, she loves to talk about progenitors, it's her favorite subject.  Show me a grandparent who doesn't love family history and long stories about wagons and plows and dynamite accidents resulting in loss of limb and function.  You can't, they don't exist.  I swear.  At least not in Utah.  This is why I'm hip to the 411 on the benefits of knowing where you come from, it's all the result of my Gram's fascination with the subject.  I know exactly why I'm a nut job.  It's all there in the family tree, which has forked, repeatedly.  

I'm just a random fruit who fell off somewhere south of normal.

Totally ordinary around here.  


Sunday, June 13, 2010

funky chicken

Well here's the truth,

I took a fat nap today.  What are rainy Sunday afternoons for other than that?  I'm trying to will myself sleepy again because I hate staying up super late, at this stage in my life anyway, though I am a night owl by nature.  See I am in sleep collection mode, soak it up, store it up, enjoy it while I can... call it what you will.  I have my priorities.  

I work from home, generally while the offspring takes his rest, and then a few early mornings and afternoons here and there.  Somedays I feel like I'm married to this Mac.  He takes up all my time and I go cross eyed looking at his screen all day long.  If that's not love I don't know what is.  We're involved to say the least.  Aside from that relationship, I feel like there are so many things I want to pack into this summer before life gets significantly more complicated in September, and by complicated I mean awesome, except nuts.  


I'd like to think that when big changes happen I'm a "roll with the punches" kind of person.  But want to know a dirty secret?  I'm not.  I'm easily overwhelmed.  Big life changes freak me out.  I ruminate, I stew, I have major anxiety ridden bouts of fear and "oh holy crap" moments.  I've had more than few of those lately.  In fact, I've been a bit funky I'd say.  I'll go ahead and play the gestating card, and add moving and general life stress as backup in case you weren't convinced.  Blah blah blah, poor me.  I'm sure you get the point.  I feel like I need more zen or something.  I've got to get back to mastering all the powers of the secret again I suppose because that really worked for me.  

So that's it I guess.  Mind over matter and get your big girl panties on!  It's the middle of June and I've gots stuff to do.  Stuff like hoe my garden and get really tan, except that hasn't happened since I don't know when so maybe let's replace that item with "get really fat" instead, that I can do.  


Thursday, June 10, 2010

Wednesday, June 9, 2010

I already need a nap

I've been up, like since the unholy hour of 5 am and it had nothing to do with pregnancy insomnia.  For the most part I've been able to avoid that this go 'round, so far.  On a side note, did you know the term "go 'round" is in reference to rodeo stuff?  I mean shizz people, haven't you ever listened to Garth Brooks?  FACT FOR THE DAY!

We've already been fed, I've put in an hour's worth of work,  and I think now we'll take Gus the dumb dog for a walk.  Speaking of, Gus the dumb dog is balding.  Yes, all of my wishes and dreams have now come true in the form of doggie hypo-thyroid disease.  Did you know that stuff can affect dogs too?  Gus and my dad now have more in common than ever before, especially the balding part.  Except now I have to give Gus pills everyday to fix that and the hair will all grow back.  The good Lord giveth, and the good Lord taketh away.  I bet my dad wishes it were that easy.  Never fear, what the man fails to grow on his head, he makes up for everywhere else which gives me a great idea for an in depth article, "My Furry Father and Me, how beards are grown and not necessarily inherited".  What do you think?    

We went to about a bazallion wedding celebrations last weekend.  Two involved my cousin and one an old friend from the yester years.  I didn't eat cake at either and that fact just escaped me until right now.  I am indignant I tell you.  What's a wedding without cake in my mouth?  I'll tell you, pointless.  Other than that, both were nice and one was even held at the reception place where Hub and I celebrated our nuptials almost 4 years ago.  What a tender trip down memory lane that was.  4 years is no joke man.  4 years, 4 pregnancies and 2 kids is even less of a joke.  What kind of business are we running here?  

After looking through some of the pictures taken at these weddings I have deduced that I am currently pregnant in my face so they all got deleted.  All except for this one, which is as close to a winner as we'll get. 

So glad it's Wednesday, that tomorrow is Thursday and my Connie will be up to help me plant the rest of my south 40 into corn before she heads off to celebrate her networking success at the family/class reunion.  My only sadness in not going with her is that a. no A&W for me, and b. no camping.  But camping with me at this point would just be silly so let's cross that off and only leave the A&W.  Bon Voyage Connie, bring me back some rootbeer in a gallon jug mmkay?    

Monday, June 7, 2010

all the motherfathers

This junk is viral

but daaaaymn if I don't want a Sienna now

Where my MotherFathers at? 

And when you finish with that then click "HERE"(did I do it right Camille?) to a website started in honor of my adolescent glory or so you would think...  I'd submit my photo but I don't think the internet is ready for Slagathor just yet.  There's one "after" photo a lady submitted where she could, quite honestly, cut glass with the raisins she's smuggling up in there so be on the lookout for that visual pearl.

You're welcome in advance.  

Sunday, June 6, 2010

it's just so logical to me

First of all, thanks for your reassuring comments on the last post.  I was having a moment you know.  I'm allowed those, what with all the hormonees coursing through my blood stream.  But for serious, for every comment and email I received I love you back a hundred fold.    

Second of all, can I get a what what for summer?  FINALLY?

Thirdly, I would like to welcome you back to my current edition of "Things I Don't Get":

1. bridesmaids and groomsmen- you realize you won't likely be friends with these people the rest of your life, right?  In fact, someday they may fall off your radar entirely and then they'll be there in your wedding photos forever and you don't even talk to them anymore.  Don't be sad, you get new friends, better friends, more mature friends, and that is good.  Allowances: siblings and close familiar relations, and those whose friends really are family or whatever.  I realize there are exceptions to every rule.  It's just generally weddings should be about the couple getting married, not their matchy matchy friends in lame lavender dresses and stupid rental tuxedos. 

2.  children on scooters/motorcycles-oh so you put a helmet on them and that suddenly makes it okay for you to go a zillion miles an hour down the road and EVEN ON THE FREEWAY(saw it with my own eyes this last week)?  Say it with me now, "children do not belong on scooters/motorcycles and especially not on busy roadways".  Chances are if you do this, you are not smart enough to be operating such a vehicle anyway so do yourself, your child,  and the rest of us a favor and get off the bike, for like ever.  

3.  smoking around children, allowing children to see you smoke, smoking in public places where children and families hang out -just don't.  It's gross, and unhealthy, and should be made illegal if you ask me, especially smoking in a car with children in it.  That makes me want to kill you and I just might one day if I get crazy enough.  DON'T TEST ME!  

4.  add to that swearing gratuitously around children-if I hear this sort of thing going on I'm the first to get pissed.  Tame your lack of forethought and creativity and freaking censor yourself.  Or again, I might kill you.  I'm not talking about the minor offenses, I've dropped those a few times myself during heated moments, I'm talking about the big guns and if I have to spell out which ones those are then you are dumb.   

The End, for now      

Saturday, June 5, 2010

where I'm coming from

I was looking through my statcounter today, I don't pay too much attention to the numbers but I like to see where people come from, what brings them here, if I know them, that sort of thing.  

Yes, I'm watching you.

There are people who read this blog from all over the country, all over the world for that matter, seriously someone from Croatia hit on my blog today.  Hey you, I have no idea really where Croatia is but welcome.  I think I know most of my regular commenters (hi friends)  and when I say "know" I mean am familiar with most of you and your respective blogs or websites, or perhaps we truly know each other on the flipside.  We could even be family, treats indeed!  Bless those of you who link to me, who put my hooter button on your site,  who leave nice comments, who laugh at my stupid jokes and occasional lack of propriety, who tell me my Nublet is adorable (he is, I know), and generally bring good things to my life.  I like you guys.  You make me happy.  I like feeling as if I know you, and when I meet you in real life, which I've done that more than a few times (internet girlfriends are the best), it feels like I've known you for a long time already and rarely does it get weird for me even though I do my best to make things awkward, it's how I roll.  In fact, some of the friends I've met through blogging have become so near and dear to me that they are my real time go-to's, my lady posse if you will.  I'm not going to name names or give you a bunch of links to click through.  Yous guys know who you are.

This blog started as a cry for help.  I was at home, one miscarriage under my belt, jobless, miserable, and dying for some interaction and I just started posting one day, about my hair of all things.  It began as pictures and silly updates and has evolved into so much more.  It's a freaking website now for pity's sake.  I am a dot com (it's "" btw, try it, it will link you straight up, even though for some reason it still shows up in my browser as a blogspot address).  It's given me a place to write, to vent, to share,  to make friends, to remember, to be me.  

I love this blog.

And at the same time I have days when I hate it.  

I'd like to think I'm a fairly private person and yet, in reality that's not the case as much as I'd like it to be.  If you'd like to know certain details of my life, you can find many of them right here on this blog.  I realize that I write on the most public forum out there and that "anonymous" is hardly my moniker.  You can easily find my last name, generally know where I live, even where I've worked, and feel a part of my life through the things, experiences and people I post about.  

Sometimes that weirds me out so bad I can't even tell you.  I don't like to feel like I'm an open book even when for all intensive purposes, I am.  Feeling vulnerable has never been an emotion I've ever enjoyed.      

I don't write about stuff that is insanely personal to me.  I don't detail my relationships, I hardly name names, I don't talk about those interactions between myself and the people in my life that are, and should be kept, between us.  I've gone back through and deleted so many posts where I feel like I may have crossed the line and given out too much, or that has drawn too much negative traffic from sources I'm not so sure I like.  Sometimes I'll vaguely reference a particularly rough day or time that I'm going through but I hardly ever get specific.  We all have those types of experiences, I'm not dumb or self absorbed enough to think I'm the only one who goes through things.  That's life isn't it?  I'm sure I could use certain experiences to pound out some emotional and meaty stuff but that stuff is for me, not the internet.  

This blog doesn't feature any sort of content that has a specific mission like promoting motherhood or Mormonism, I'm not out to spread a message, I don't craft, it's not a recipe blog, I don't want to be any sort of a crusader for any specific cause.  I don't really have a point to what I do on here other than to just write about my life, to write about what makes me happy, what doesn't, and all that falls in between.  If any of those topics I mentioned before happen to get touched on while I'm at it then that's just a lucky coincidence. 

I hope that if you're reading this, if you read "My Life as a Kalli" regularly at all, that you get me on some level.  I hope that you read me because somehow you relate, you laugh, you commiserate, you feel connected.  I hope you don't read me for any reasons other than those.  I hope that we're friends, whether  in the flesh or otherwise.  I hope that you know I love my life, I love my family, I have so much to be happy and grateful for that often I feel overwhelmed.  

None of me or any of that is perfect, and at the same time, collectively it is. 

My life is good.  

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

the grass really is greener

Dear Lord,

please make summer last a really long time

and burn scenes like this into my brain for ever and ever


Tuesday, June 1, 2010

he's nice too

this one belongs to my sister

he's almost 3 weeks old now

I like him

just one of my projects

*24 weeks

I believe the words you're looking for involve
"my you've blossomed..."