Good Morning Mr. President

The boys and I watched the inauguration on Tuesday. I told Peter that while I don't agree with much of what Obama says (gee, I think that's the first time I've shared that on here, I may have just lost some friends) I think it's important to support the office of the President of the United States of America. I also told him that not everyone lives in a country where the people can elect a president. So we watched Joe Biden get sworn in as VP, listened to a gorgeous arrangement of Tis a Gift, saw Barrack Obama take the oath of office, and listened to his speech. Then I turned off the TV because it had been on way longer than usual, so I missed what I hear was a rather exciting Benediction.

I tried to do other patriotic things throughout the day. We read:



and:



and we talked a little bit about the what the President does.

That night I helped Peter say his personal prayers. He's at the point in learning to pray that he still needs some help, but he also says some things on his own. This is how it went on Tuesday:

Me:(prompting) Please help me to be kind.
Peter: Please help me to be kind.
Me:(prompting) Please help me to obey.
Peter: Please help me to obey.
Me:(prompting) Please help-
Peter: Please help me to be President.

Huh. That's not actually what I was going to prompt him to say next, but it's good to know what you want.

Where Oh Where Has My Little Bar Gone?

Question: Is anyone missing the little bar just above the large, new-post text window in blogger that lets you change the size of your text and add pictures? Is it just me? Does anyone know how to get it back? Is it blogger, or did I break something?

I had a better post planned but, darn it, I want to add pictures without going through Picasa. I love Picasa, I just don't want to use it for every post.

That is all.

I Enjoy Being a Girl

Usually when I get my haircut I explain a few things to the hairstylist. The first is that I have very fine hair and I want to look like I don't. The second is that I spend little to no time doing my hair in the mornings. I blow-dry it when I'm being fancy. That's all. Then the stylist proceeds to cut my hair. Very quickly.

This time I told her that I wanted a change. My hair was just long. It didn't have much shape and I wanted something new. I failed to mention the whole low maintenance thing, although I did talk about how fine it is. I also mentioned that I'd been thinking about bangs for a long time. She got all excited when I said I wanted something new. And then she started cutting. And cutting. And cutting. It was the longest haircut I've ever had. In my mind I kept thinking, "Wow, this is taking way longer than usual. It's like she cares about the outcome. Gee, that's kind of nice."

When she was done cutting she asked if it was okay if she styled it. I agreed and she pulled out the "product". It was a root booster or something. Then she blew it dry using a round brush. While I'm not particularly adept at using them, I understand what that process is meant to achieve. But then she did something completely foreign to me.

She pulled out the flat-iron.

I have really straight hair. (Except for these two chunks right at the nape of my neck that curl into ringlets, but who's going to look there?)(That reminds me of when I was younger and we'd be getting ready to go out somewhere and my Mom would say, "Margot, just grab any socks you can find. It doesn't matter which ones, no one looks at your socks." This isn't true because I ALWAYS look at other people's socks. Just in case you were wondering.) Anyway, I never thought that I needed a flat-iron. Then the girl started using it on my hair. And when she finished it looked good. Really good. Even the bangs.

I tried to recreate the look on Sunday for church without the flat-iron. When I left for church it was okay. When I got home four hours later (Peter and I stayed for choir) it was, um, less than flattering. The biggest offender? The bangs. I think they can look good. I'm just not enough of a girly-girl to figure it out. Maybe I should go buy a flat-iron and experiment. And some of that 'product' stuff.

Any hair hints would be greatly appreciated.

Before and After

 

 

This picture doesn't even show the most exciting thing. I got - wait for it - bangs. I know, I'm living on the edge.

Today's Deadly Sin: Sloth!

You know those days where you just feel, well, blah? You don't have any energy and you know that you need to be accomplishing things, but you're not, so that leads to guilt and a bigger feeling of blah. You know that feeling? Anybody?

Yesterday was a blah day. In my defense, I think I may be coming down with something. Bryan came home from work early because he felt sick and I'm displaying decidedly achy symptoms. But I'm not certain that I'm sick. Or stick, which is how Peter says it. If I were really, honest-to-goodness, flat-on-my-back sick, then I wouldn't feel guilty about the overwhelming temptation to be slothful that is lurking just out of my field of vision. But I'm not, and frankly, I really don't want to be. I don't enjoy being sick. But I would like to have a good excuse to be a little lazy.

I decided that I needed to do something to motivate myself, so I told the boys that we were going to the library. This is usually a welcome outing. But not yesterday. Peter announced he wasn't going, he would "stay home with Daddy" while I took Cooper. Not what I had in mind. After debating with myself and deciding that my legs were feeling shaky (thus fueling the "Am I getting sick?" train of thought) I realized it wasn't worth it. Instead, I opened a few windows and let in the bitingly-cold fresh-air. It seemed to do the trick, actually. I started moving, Peter started cooperating, and Cooper was content to sit on his playmat and watch us put away the folded laundry from the night before.

I'm glad that I thought to open those windows. They stayed open until Bryan announced it was cold and turned up the heater. I took the hint.

Oh Spring, won't you come early? Apparently I need the fresh air to avoid being a lazy bum, and my heating bill can't compensate for the cold.

A Little More Cowbell

Thank you Mr. Walken. And thank you Bryan.

Pinching Pennies, Clipping Coupons, See a Brand New World Unfurled

Bryan and I were cheap before it was cool. Actually, we lived it up a bit in college by going to movies and out to dinner. Sometimes I kick myself for all the money we could have saved, but then I'm reminded that we won't be able to do that again for a LONG TIME, so it was okay for a little while. Although, not going to movies might have had us into a house by now...

Anyway, frugal is now in. And Bryan and I do frugal very well. I bought a ham for $7 on Friday, cooked it on Saturday, and have eaten it for lunch and dinner everyday since. I would say that we have enough meat left to make two more distinct dishes. And I'm going to use the ham bone to make beans. That ham has gone a long way.

I know that I still have a lot to learn about pinching pennies, but I am much better than I used to be. And I know that I'm not the only one trying to save money. Target's new batch of commercials seem to have frugality in mind as well. They talk about the "new" way of doing things. The "new commute" is a bike. The "new trip to the salon" is a bottle of hair dye. Okay, I can get behind trying to help people in their quest to live within their means. But I don't think they've gone far enough. They call the "new home addition" six throw pillows. But the pillows are $20 each! At my house that would equate to $120 dollars in very small trampolines.

No, they need to appeal to the truly miserly. Instead of a new bike, show someone climbing onto a bus, reading the target ad. Instead of the bottle of hair dye, let us see someone in severe need of a root touch-up, buying a hat. And the new home addition? Curtains made out of plastic target grocery sacks. That would be really cheap.

Peter and His Imaginary Friend...Cooper

As the oldest child I often spoke for my younger siblings. When they were asked a question, I would answer. I think Peter takes it to the next level:

Peter: (Looking at Cooper) Cooper, how are you doing?
(Pause) You're doing well?
(Pause) How am I doing?
(Pause) I'm doing great!

Me: Peter, you need to eat your dinner.
Peter: No, Cooper tells me to NOT eat my dinner.

Peter: Oh, Cooper wants eat my food.
(Looking at Cooper) No Cooper, you can't have cheese yet.

I will be glad when Cooper is big enough and verbal enough to play with Peter. And to answer for himself.

Adieu

Saying goodbye can be hard. When I visit with my family it's hard for me to leave, or to see them leave. It's even hard for me to leave Peter at Primary, even though it's temporary. On Saturday we said goodbye to my grandpa. It was a very sweet service. I learned a lot about my dad's dad. I never knew that my grandpa built the building that housed his dental practice in Long Beach California. That's interesting, but more so is that he invited his father and father-in-law to help as well. That building provided retirement funds for both. He was a hard worker. My dad shared the following story:

Related to work, I remember one project my dad undertook while I was home from college one vacation. He had a storage shed that had stood at the back of our property for some years. It was falling apart and needed to be demolished. As we took it apart, we found that under the floorboards a six-inch layer of humus had accumulated, the work, my dad said, of rats. As a result, this project consumed many hours. I was young and active. I took pride in the fact that I was tearing off more boards and moving more shovels full of dirt than my dad. At noon we took time off for lunch. Then I took a nap. Dad went back to work. At about two, I returned to the job that Dad had never left. By five, when the job was finally done, I was beat. Dad had not worked fast; he had just worked relentlessly. He never reprimanded me for slacking off. He just worked me into the ground.

While I miss my grandpa, I'm not weighed down by sadness. He lived a good life and it was his time to move on. We took Peter and Cooper to the funeral. I know that not everyone thinks it's appropriate to bring to children to a funeral, but we felt that it was important. We told Peter that Grandpa Alvin had died and that his spirit had gone to live with Heavenly Father while his body waited here for when he would be resurrected and his body and spirit would be reunited. It was a wonderful opportunity to teach him about the Plan of Salvation. Our goodbye to my grandpa is temporary. We will see him again. For the time being, he has work to do on his side on the veil, and we have work to do on ours.

This picture of me, Peter, and my grandparents was taken September of 2007.

Sleep: The Saga Continues

Cooper finally went to sleep last night. We discovered that after he's stopped crying he stays awake for a while. And checking on him starts the crying up again. At fifteen minutes after midnight I finally gathered up my courage and went in to check him. Asleep. He still sleeps in our room and I was exhausted, so I was glad that I could finally go to sleep without interrupting or distracting him. I went to tell Bryan, which is when I heard Peter wake up. Then Cooper woke up to nurse at one in the morning. So Bryan spent the night in Peter's room trying to get him back to sleep and I held Cooper all night. So much for everyone sleeping in their own bed.

We're trying it again tonight. He's quiet, but I have no idea if he's asleep. And I'm too afraid to go check. Maybe five more minutes and I'll sneak a peek.

At least it's not midnight.