It's all about the chomping

Okay, let me briefly teach you about ice.

There is good ice and there is goooood ice.

Good ice:

Goooood  ice: .


Any questions?

Some things are just wrong...

I know this might a little controversial to put on this here blog...but I am going to do it.

Please, don't be offended. Don't hate me.

If you disagree with me, that's okay. You are entitled to you own opinion, as flawed as it may be. We can still be friends.

But when one feels so strongly about something, one should be able to express that on their blog.

I am that one.

Sushi is just wrong.

You should not do sushi. It's raw meat people. Raw!! Wrapped in seaweed. And covered in rice. Then it is put in a fridge for a few day.

How is that appetizing?? Just look at it.

No, I have never eaten it. Once again...look at it!! No, I will not try it. Nope, I know I won't like it. I don't have to try drugs to know I don't want to do them. I don't have to burn my finger to know I won't enjoy it.

And I don't have to taste sushi to know it is wrong.

Sushi is just wrong.

Love of my life....

I love my iphone.

Love it.

For so many reasons.

I can call. I can text. I can email.

I can bank. I can calendar. I can photograph.

I can read the news. I can read my scriptures. I can surf.

I can blog. I can map things. I can listen to and buy music.

But mostly I love my iphone because where else can you do this to your husband???

or this...

or...

...what about this...

Oh, yes.

 I love my iphone.

So I Married a Deaf Man: Who's that?

...so I was telling you about our phone issues, right.

If you call me, on the phone...you know...the talking phone, I will talk to you. And it will be fun. And we will have a good time.

If you call me on the phone, the talking phone, and I am talking to you and Hubs comes in, he will ask "Who are you talking to?" To which I will sign your name.

If you call me on the phone, the talking phone, and I am talking to you and Hubs comes in and asks who I am talking to and I tell him it's you,  he will ask, "What are you talking about?"

This is slightly annoying, but I will, in a word or two, tell him.

If you call me on the phone, the talking phone, and I am talking to you and Hubs comes in and asks who I am talking to and he knows it's you and he learns what we are talking about and he is interested, he will ask me to interpret our call for him.

Rude right? 

This is where I draw the line.

Understand this rarely happens...but it does happen.

But....if you call Hubs on the phone...the signing phone (video phone), he will talk to you, and it will be fun.

If you call Hubs on the phone...the signing phone and he is talking to you, I will not ask him who he is talking to. I will look at the TV. And there you will be.

No need to ask what He is talking about. I can see it. No need to ask if he will interpret for me, I can see. 

But I don't...because that would be rude, right?

So now, when you call me on the phone, the talking phone, and I am talking to you and Hubs comes in and asks who I am talking to and I tell him it's you, he will ask, "What are you talking about?"

 And I will answer, "Tampons."

Problem solved.

If you're happy and you know it....

Happiness is.... 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep.

Happiness is...a clean kitchen, a load of laundry in the wash and a book with my baby.

Happiness is...freshly brushed teeth.

Happiness is...snow day.

Happiness is...potty trained!!

Happiness is...new socks.

Happiness is...rolling over in the morning to the man of my dreams.

Happiness is...forgiven.

Happiness is...the first day of school after summer break.

Happiness is...jeans that fit.

Happiness is...family.

Happiness is...getting home after a 26-hours-in-the-car road trip. That's a lot of family.

Happiness is...quiet.

Happiness is...noisy.

Happiness is...good hair color.

Happiness is...a few minutes alone in the bathroom.

Happiness is...money to spend save.

Happiness is...a recipe that works...and everyone likes.

Happiness...is a choice.

Keep choosing it.

Angels, I tell ya

There are times you look back at certain experiences and laugh. There are other times you look back and cringe. This was one of those times.

We (Hubs, myself and 4 of our children) had just moved into a new apartment. My parents and a few siblings had come over to help us get things organized and set up.

My dad was responsible for setting up the bunk beds. He had also, apparently, taken upon himself the job of trying to kill my 2 year old. Yeah he is kinda like that. Okay, not really. Quite the opposite really. You will not find a more careful, caring, slightly overprotective grandparent anywhere. Except for this time.

I saw my dad and Brody, the 2 year old, go back to the kids room. Didn't think anything of it. In fact didn't even think about it at all until later because I was busy organizing and putting away.

When I finally did go back to the bedroom, about 3 hours later, to check out the bunk beds, I walked into the room and saw a screw driver sticking out of the electrical outlet. As in, the metal part was "plugged in" to the wall.

What the...? Who forgot...? How is my child not dead?
Then again, this is the son who had a piano fall on him and only rug burns to prove it. (Some day I will tell you that story.) The same son who almost drowned before my very eyes. The one who was bitten by army ants more than 30 times in 2 minutes. Yes, this is that child....

But a screw driver in the outlet!?
I laugh and cringe at that memory.

What's yours?

Step away from the lunch....

Food police are real.

Did you know that? I had no idea. I thought they were just like the Boogy man under the bed or in the closet. You know, not real.

Nope. Real.

Just ask the little girl in a Hoke County preschool. She knows. She met him the other day. Apparently, the food police didn't think that her homemade lunch (a turkey and cheese sandwich, chips, banana and apple juice) was healthy enough. So he took it away and replaced it with chicken nuggets. Because we all know chicken nuggets are super healthy.

Who pays these food police? That would be us. We just hire people who have nothing better to do with their time and our money than to go to preschools and take perfectly good lunches and replace them with crappy ones.

Really?

Really??

Since we are the ones paying for these food police, can we also be the ones to fire them? You know, for pure idiosy?

Food police. Sheesh.

I wonder what he had for lunch???