Brandon, It's Your Birthday!

33 years ago today, the most amazing person alive was born. How did I get so lucky?

I love you, Brandon!

EB's and Coddling

After a candid conversation with Brandon last night (not myself, thank goodness), I came to the realization that what happened yesterday (and the day before) was another emotional breakdown. I have EB every 4 weeks or so, and they tend to coincide with Aunt Flo. The irony (except it is not ironic to any woman who has ever had a visit from Aunt Flo) is that I always forget about my EB's until I am almost past them. And then I realize Aunt Flo happens to be visiting (that awful, awful woman!) at the exact same time as my EB's. Or just before. Or just after. What I mentioned to Brandon, though, was that my EB this time was not as messy. It was really just a really weird blog post and some passing words that hurt my husband. [Okay, so the hurting words probably weren't non-messy. But he easily forgives me. Because he rocks.]
My EB's tend to be riddled with a lot of tears and dramatic sweeps of accuastions and resolves, so I was happy to see only the blog post and hurting words this time (note to self: forget the hurting words next time. For there will be a next time. In about a month!).

Thank you to all of you for your fabulous, fabulous advice. It made my day! There was no judging, only helpfulness, and that's what I like in a blog reader. And a friend. Thank you, friends!
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I used to make fun of parents that would coddle their kids. You know, bail them out of stuff. Make excuses for their behavior. Buy them cars. That kind of thing. But after this morning, I think I get it.

See, last night, #1 had her 2 hour theater class. After a quick dinner, all the kids came to the church with hubby and I because he had Young Men's and I had my Relief Society Meeting (not to be confused with the previous Relief Society Home, Family, and Personal Enrichment). Luckily for us, there was a children's class going on in the nursery so we could both attend our aforementioned activities (not enrichments). #1 brought her homework with her to the theater class because she couldn't finish it due to theater class.
But she didn't finish it. The nursery environment was way too much fun! I didn't think too much of it --she could finish in the morning easily.
This morning proved not to be easy, and she didn't finish. She was crying her eyes out as she sat at the table, already past the time when she and #2 and #3 need to leave to walk to school to get there in time.
I wanted to give her the time to finish and to just drive her to school.
But I knew I couldn't do that. I needed to provide a very safe, yet important lesson.
I told her that she knew she needed to finish her homework last night, but she chose to play instead. I told her I was sorry it was hard and I knew it was frustrating, but next time she would need to remember this and choose differently.
She cried about how she would miss both recesses.
I told her I was sorry, but she still needed to get to school and if she missed a few recesses, she'd be okay.
She cried and cried and the kids left and I felt really bad.
I told Brandon that I wanted to let her finish and drive her, but I knew she needed to learn to manage her time better --even when it wasn't really her fault.
He agreed with me; tough lessons are sometimes needed.
And golly --it's not like we sent her to school naked or anything. This lesson was an easy and harmless one. A simple and natural consequence to a simple and natural dilemma.

But now I get it. I wanted to coddle and fix. I can see why that is so lucrative and tempting. I'm just glad I didn't do it...this time. I'm sure there will be times when stepping in is good and appropriate. I just hope I'll know the difference...

Conversations With Myself

I lost five pounds!
But then I gained seven back last week.

I watched The Biggest Loser last night (hey, does anybody know why they didn't show Shay's up-to-date stuff last week and only Daniel's? Did she go off the deep-end or something?) and I realized something that I hate, hate, hate:
"Do it for you!"
I mean, yeah. In retrospect and now-a-days-spect, taking the time to take care of yourself is pretty good advice. We really should do nice things for ourselves like showering, eating, and wearing clothing that isn't made of palm fronds. But I think there may be a little too much going on with the "do it for you" crap that keeps circulating.

This morning, I thought "Wow, Alison Wonderland (who is seriously one of my favorite people and one of my heroes to boot) and I have started this exercise dealio so long ago, and I have exercised about 5 times. Total. I'm a failure!" and then I had this conversation with myself (because I often have conversations with myself, thank you very much):

Self: You need to take better care of yourself!
Me: How?
Self: You need to exercise every week-day morning.
Me: That's easy for you to say.
Self: What do you mean?
Me: I don't have TIME to exercise. I don't. Unless I want to force my husband to nurse the baby so I can go running 5 miles each morning (which would be awesome, to be honest...not the husband nursing the baby, but the running 5 miles!).
Self: Do it another time.
Me: When? Every moment of my day is swarming with little children and responsibilities that I can't even seem to keep caught up with --not to mention that when the kids are finally in bed all I want to do is crash and burn myself.
Self: Well, maybe exercise isn't working --but what about other things?
Me: Like what?
Self: Shopping for clothes that fit and aren't falling apart? You know, that you haven't shopped for yourself in about 2 years.
Me: Has it been 2 years? Really?
Self: Yes.
Me: But I don't have money for that. We have debt. I can't justify buying myself something pretty or nice while I worry about buying the kids shoes that fit.
Self: Then why do you keep doing fun stuff that costs money, you hypocrite!?
Me: Like what?
Self: Eating at Bombay House (your decision, remember?). Flying to San Francisco. Turning on the fireplace instead of wearing a sweater.
Me: Oh, yeah.
Self: Okay, well, if those things don't work, why don't you just shower every day? That would be a nice change.
Me: Don't I know it.
Self: Well?
Me: You're kidding, right? Showering everyday? Like the baby would let me. Or the 2 year-old.
Self: So, you're basically resigned to not take care of yourself? Is that it?
Me: No --I just don't see the point.
Self: What do you mean?
Me: Why does it matter? Where is the law written that one cannot possibly be happy if they don't exercise every day? Where does it say that if one doesn't shower each day, or buy new clothes every few months, or spend money, or do super-nice-chocolaty things for themselves on a regular basis that they will end up lonely and depressed? I'm tired of being told that I have to be all self-indulgent in order to make it through my life. Or my day.
Self: Yeah, well, you're just taking it the wrong way. It's not about being selfish. It's about taking care of yourself so you don't end up in a puddle of wallowing despair. Your kids need you to be happy.
Me: And why can't I be happy with B.O.? Hmmmm?
Self: Yeah. Uh...
Me: Touche. Point taken.
Self: I'm not saying you have to be completely selfish and ignore the kids and the house in order to get your mani/pedi that you can't afford --just do something for yourself every once in a while.
Me: Like showering?
Self: Like showering. But even more? Like exercising. Eating right.
Me: I know.
Self: Remember how it felt when you lost those 40 pounds in 2008?
Me: Yeah.
Self: Remember how it felt when you ran that 5K?
Me: Yeah.
Self: And how you were running 4 miles each day? And the weight training?
Me: Yes! I do! And whenever I watch The Biggest Loser all I can think about is how awesome it felt to do all that. But then I think about how I don't know how or when or where to start because I feel so overwhelmed with all I have to do. I'm feeling the crisis crushing down on me on every side and to be quite frank, the claustrophobia of it all is killing me.
Self: Well, you have a lot to worry about. Without making the list, your time is really scarce.
Me: Exactly.
Self: But you've got to figure it out. Maybe see it from a different point of view? Maybe start a new routine? Change expectations? Get some help?
Me: That's the rub. I have no idea where to start. It's that trapped feeling.
Self: I hear ya. Oh, how I hear ya.

So, dear reader, if you are not now completely freaked out about the fact that Cheryl does, in fact, talk to herself in such detail (hey, I may be happy, but I'm still crazy, right?!?), lay it on me. It's your turn for advice. I'm actually ASKING for it!

In the comments below, help me out:
1. Have you ever had to change your life's routine to accommodate a new way of living? (vague, I know)
2. How did you do it?
3. Where did you start?
4. What elements did you include and/or exclude?
5. What was your biggest support through it all?
6. And do you think it's okay to just let things go for a while until things get easier, or are you on the side that says you should seize the day now and make the changes while you can?

NINE. HUNDRED.

That's right folks. This is my 900th post! That may seem like a lot, but for those who know me, that's probably just about right.

But what to do? How to celebrate this momentous occasion?

I could do a give-a-way. But I'm poor and my husband is out of work. Why torture myself?

I could do some kind of contest where the winner gets nothing, but what fun is that?

Maybe I could tell you 900 things about myself. But why torture you??

Ooh! I know. I'll just do a normal post. Yeah. That works.

I went to San Francisco with hubby and #5 over the weekend. Well, sort of. #5 and I went by ourselves because hubby was already there. It was quite the adventure! #5 was fabulous, of course, but this is how it went:

WHIRLWIND WEEKEND

-Car to shuttle to plane to shuttle to train to streets of San Francisco to Wharton School.

-Sushi and Karaoke; lots of fun with several students and their partners/spouses. Lots of beer and sake, but only happy drinkers (no mean ones!). So much oohing and ahhing over #5. He was the hit of the party!

-Very little sleep due to #5's desire to be up all night. Sigh.
-Breakfast with an awesome student-spouse at The Ferry Farmer's Market.
-Trip with hubby in borrowed car to Palo Alto for third round interview lunch --did not stay for interview; #5 and I walked around Palo Alto and shopped at Whole Foods to buy flowers to thank owner of borrowed car.
-Back to Wharton; class, and then dinner with awesome students and spouses at random Italian restaurant in San Francisco where I ate lots of goose liver.
-Stayed at student-friends house; fabulous hospitality (note to self: Don't forget the thank you card!!) and conversation.
-Amazing night's sleep! #5 only woke up once.
-Rushed, rushed, rushed to airport and barely made the flight.
-Thank you to Jessica S. for watching our kids! You are amazing, amazing, amazing.

Things Learned Over the Weekend:

*If we have to move back to the Bay Area, I will not be upset. Especially if Brandon gets this job in Palo Alto! It's a goody, dear reader. A goody. In fact, I have a feeling it would make my husband very, very happy. That means I will be very, very happy. And then the children will be very, very happy, thereby making the cat very, very happy. So much happiness!

*People have rolled their eyes and told us we are insane for having "so many" kids while we were so young. But I sat and talked with more than two couples (does that make three?) who have been trying for YEARS to have children --children they put off having until their late 30's (most for good reasons). Children they are now seeing fertility specialists for. #5 was the most loved little guy all weekend --from classmates, to airline security people; from random people on the street (so many stares and smiles!) to airplane passengers. I heard stories and saw tears from women who want to have children.
And not one person said I was insane for having five. Surprises? Yes. But no quips about "that crazy Mormon woman."

I may have to thank the Duggars for that.

*Traveling with babies (even awesome babies like #5) is still hard. Worth it? Yes. But still hard. Lots of things to think about and remember. Lots of things to worry about and watch out for.

*Preparing to go away for just a few days is almost worse than preparing to go away for a week or more. I was so stressed, and the weekend so hurried, that I think I need another vacation again! I had laundry and packing and meetings for work and SEP's (student-educator-parent conference) and callings and...and...lots o' stuff. It was just very exhausting.

*My Ferry-breakfast friend (non-LDS; yes, this is important to note) asked me how I could leave Provo, with all that Mormon support, and move to a place with very little Mormon support. I told her that it would be harder, but we could do it. And on the drive with Brandon to Palo Alto, I realized that I think that's my biggest fear about moving back: Being Alone. I like living in the Provo Bubble where nobody bats an eye when they see me with 5 kids. I like knowing that the soccer, theater, dance, and school functions will never be held on Sundays. I love the family support and community understanding of a religion that most people find weird (at the least) and cultish (and the worst). I like having close access to Temples, LDS bookstores, and a Costco that sells more diapers than wine. I really do. So, in all honesty? That is my biggest fear in moving back. Hatred, bigotry, and a string of inconveniences linked to my religion. And you know what? To confess the biggest confession of all? I was so glad --so very, very glad --that we moved out of CA just as Prop. 8 came about. I had so many friends that faced cruel threats and vandalism, and I was beyond relieved to be in Utah. So relieved. Is that dumb? Maybe. Maybe not. But it is what it is, and I'm just going to have to get over my fears. Missionary work? Hard, but worth it. Standing up for my beliefs? Hard, but worth it.

I seem to have a lot of "hard" ness in my life.

Worth it, though?
I'm thinking "Yes."

So, there you go! My 900th post. You may now congratulate me. Or something.

Banana Bread Epiphany

Epiphany: a. A sudden manifestation of the essence or meaning of something. b. A comprehension or perception of reality by means of a sudden intuitive realization.

Trying to stop the whining about the grounding from video games, I announce, "Let's bake some banana bread!"
Bonding occurs. Measuring, math, questions, no whining.
Spilled sugar, spilled flour, spilled cinnamon.
Tempering my own impulses to be angry with clumsy 2 year old hands; he's two. The other is 5. He's only five.
Hearing the baby cry, hearing the laundry buzz, feeling the tantrum coming, trying not to sigh. Baby on hip, 2 year old crying, 5 year old whining. Bread baking. Husband networking. Beginning to wonder --again --why I signed up for all of this.

Receive Epiphany:

It's okay.
It's okay to have crying, whining, laundry, spilled sugar, busy husband, no time to accomplish anything.
It's really okay!

The calm comes, the smile returns. The crying, whining, busy-ness, and lack of time continues, but it's okay.
I did sign up for this.

And I love it.

Sad and Happy

Sad and Serious News First:

Brandon's cousin's son was diagnosed with Acute lymphoblastic leukemia yesterday. He is three years old and his name is Brayden. He starts chemotherapy today. Could you please, please, please keep him in your prayers? Although this type of cancer has an 80-85% survival rate (hallelujah!), it is still a very difficult time for the family --as you can imagine.

Thank you!

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Happy and Fun News Second:

My sister went to The Pioneer Woman's cookbook signing in Sugarhouse last week. Not only did she meet Ree and Ree's SIL Missy, but she got her picture taken (along with her friend) and it was shown on Ree's blog yesterday! HOLY COW! Here is the picture:

Here is the link if you want to see Ree's recap of her SLC book signing. And the picture again. My sister is famous! Well, sort of.

I'm so jealous. I would have loved to have been there! And to have met Ree! In my sister's defense (since I can't believe she didn't tell me she was going), she didn't know if I read The Pioneer Woman.

Obviously, she and I need to catch up a bit.

Family Rocks!

I love my families, every one...

My parents:

Brandon's Parents:

My siblings (and their spouses!):

Brandon's sisters (and BIL!):

Tell me about your family. Do you have siblings? How many? In-laws? Sisters or brothers or both? Do you love them as much as I love mine? Even when it's hard to?

Right Now

Before drifting off to sleep, I pray for my husband and children. I desire their safety; I pray for their souls. I pray for me --my inability to help them because of my weaknesses. I ask God to comfort my husband in his worry; I pray He can comfort him and bring him work. As sleep overtakes me, I whisper my Savior's name.

I wake up to the sound of incessant whimpering. Crawling-standing, I go to the crib, stopping first to check on the boys. Where is #4? I see him on the floor and put him back in bed, covering his sweet little body with his quilt. #3 is sleeping soundly; I pick up #5 and head back to bed. I nurse.
I sleep.
Two hours later, I wake and see that perhaps I should stop nursing.

Hours later, after my husband has been studying in the living room, the children begin to wake. I am again nursing #5 on the bed; #3 comes in to talk to me. He is cold and snuggles under the covers. We laugh and talk with #5 --I ask him if he ate breakfast. He asks if it is a school day.

All dressed, waiting for their ride to school (a special treat), I let the kids watch TV. In my robe, I eat breakfast, and in my mind, I try to figure out what to do first. Dishes? Change the baby? Shower? Fold laundry? Blog for work?
I settle on the work blog.

I go back and forth in between tasks, never really finishing one or the other. #4 insists on playing together, watching together. #5 insists on being held, on nursing. I move from post office packages to my novel to work reports to blogging. I do some laundry, start the dishes, and begin this post, all the while hoping nobody comes over while I'm in my robe. Husband is in the bedroom, studying, working on finding work, and studying. I try not to disturb him; I try to not be discouraged at my lack of organization. I wander around the house.

I stop. I breathe. Some things are important-need-to-be-done-now. Most things are not.

Later, I will finish the tasks. I will get to the post office, the marketing meeting, the birthday party, the date night. I will shower, finish laundry, help with homework, read, laugh, pray, and comfort. I will feed, tickle, kiss, and listen. In between, I will hope, dream, wonder, plan.

Tomorrow will be more.

For Me:

Of all modern notions, the worst is this: that domesticity is dull.
Inside the home, they say, is dead decorum and routine; outside is adventure and variety.
But the truth is that the home is the only place of liberty, the only spot on earth where a (wo)man can alter arrangements suddenly, make an experiment or indulge in a whim.
The home is not the one tame place in a world of adventure;
it is the one wild place in a world of rules and tasks.

~G. K. Chesterton

P.S. If you can name this cottage and what movie it is in, you will win something! Probably just a pat on the back. From yourself. But still! How fun!

Envy

Envy is supposedly really bad for you. It causes all kinds of bad things like green skin and anger and moping, although if you are Elphaba, I guess green skin is cool. And if you're a frog, green skin would be awesome. But the anger and moping -- or moping and anger --probably wouldn't do Elphaba or the frog any good, either.

And let's face it: Envy doesn't make much sense. I mean, it's always looking better over "there" and at the "neighbors." Somehow, their grass looks all fabulous, and our looks really gross, but we can't help it if our sprinklers broke! Plus, I tend to see things and think, "dang! I'm so glad I'm me!" For example, I wouldn't want to be living in a hole in the middle of a swamp or desert or jungle --although I'm sure many people living in holes in swamps, deserts, and jungles like it just fine, thank you very much --and I'm not envious of people with the plague and locusts. I'm very happy to be plague-and-locust-free. Plus, I'm happy that I have things like water and air and grocery stores and a car and a house and children and computers. I mean, if we're talking about being envious of a pretty good life in general, I'm sure I'm the envy of all I survey --and I'm surveyin' some pretty cute kids right now.

But anyway, my point...what was my point? Oh, yeah: Envy. Not cool.

Sadly, I have myself some envy. Not about my general life (as I already pointed out), but in the things that I wish I didn't have or did have or wanted or needed or whatever. It's not so bad when I have envy in general (like that life I have), but when I start to envy certain individuals, that's when the ugly anger and/or moping occurs. Not good.
The part I find hilarious, of course, is that the person (or persons) I tend to envy can't help that they are so beyond wildly awesome. Plus, they can't help that life has just pretty much always gone their way. Oh, sure, there's some crap in their lives (who in this world has a completely crappy-free life? You? No? I rest my case), but it's not my crap, and so it feels like theirs is so much better. Probably smells nice, too.

For example, I envy a certain person and she rocks. She has fabulous kids, amazing talents, loads of energy, and a gazillion friends. She's gorgeous, generous, and instantly a favorite of all who meet her, family and friends alike. She lives in an fabulous place with fabulous neighbors, is doing fabulously financially, and just seems to have an all out-an-out fabulous life. She would probably admit that she does, too, because she does! Is this wrong? To have a fabulous life? No! And so she's grateful for it --as she should be. She's fun, humble, and a great friend. I love her lots.

And I'm totally jealous of her.

Yes, yes, I know I'm just as fabulous (blah, blah, blah) and yes, I know she probably has some secret demons hiding in the closet because we all have imperfect lives (blah, blah, blah), and I'm sure she would never think these things about herself. I get it. I know. I know, but getting through the envy (deadly sin! Deadly sin!) is somewhat akin to swimming through some honey. But it's not so sweet, because there are gnats and spiders and bees in it. And bears! Because bears like honey...
Ummm...moving on...

Anyway, I know it's easy to say I should just forget it, and sometimes I do. I do the grateful lists (hooray for Thanksgiving!) and I feel better. But at times, I see this person's life and I think:
"Dang it all! Why can't I have that life?" because sometimes, I just need a break from my life and my challenges. Sure, they are mine and sure I would rather have mine than someone else's, and of course it's better to have my own challenges because these are the things I need to teach me the things I need to learn and know so I can grow, but...but...but!

Sometimes I don't want mine anymore.

S-T-U-F-F

Halloween Pictures. And a video!
What was I? Don't ask. I'm not even sure myself. All I know is I scared quite a few kids with my sincere smile.


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STUFF:
1. My nephew was blessed yesterday --it's always so much fun to see family!
2. Lots of resumes sent, connections made, and a couple of interviews held. No job offers, yet. Soon! Hopefully soon.
3. The girls need new socks.
4. I gained 4 pounds this month. ACK!
5. The saying "Cleaning a house while kids are living in it is like shoveling snow in a blizzard" is not only true, it is NOT FUNNY.
6. Phone calls with important boss-like people and 2-year old tantrums do not mix.
7. I have three new favorite blogs. Letters (which I've talked about before), Pushin' Up Vaiseys, and My Little Thoughts (both by high school friends of Brandon's, although I had a class with Rebekah at BYU). The first blog is just fabulous. Fabulous! The last two are hilarious. Hilarious! Go and read. Thank me later.
8. I'm reading Bram Stoker's Dracula for book club. I wanted to finish it on Halloween (how cool would that be?!) but it was not meant to be. What surprises me is that I've never read it!
9. Now that there's a possibility we could move due to a job change, I have decidedly fallen in love with where I live. Figures.
10. I shall be accompanying Brandon to the Bay Area on the weekend of the 14th. Two full days with only #5 and my hubby --please forgive me while I do the happy-monkey dance.

And you?

Perchance to Dream and Halloween

I've been having some pretty messed-up crazy dreams lately. The freakiest part is how real they seem. So real, in fact, that sometimes during the day I have to sit down and ponder whether I actually had a conversation with somebody, or if I dreamt it. This morning, I woke up positively convinced that not only did I forget to send my kids to school in their Halloween costumes, but my husband was livid with me for speaking my mind towards a family member.
It was trippy.
The funny part is that I could easily forget to send my kids to school in their Halloween costumes (not that they'd let me forget) and I could easily speak my mind. All of these dreams I keep having are actually possible. They are manifestations of how I really feel inside, too, but I don't let it out because of my desire to have some form of tact and civility.
I think I may have to mention it to my psychiatrist this afternoon. Could my meds be causing the trippy dreams? I'm thinking, yes.

Speaking of dreams, here's a dream come true. I can't believe he's already 3 months old!


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Halloween Costumes:
#1: Native American Princess (she did the whole costume by herself!)
#2: Medieval Princess (although she wanted make-up like a fairy-princess)
#3: Magician (so excited to have a rabbit hiding in his hat! And thanks to m&m for the costume loan!)
#4: Darth Vader (Thank you to Liz for letting us borrow it! It's fabulous.)
#5: Puppy (again, thank you to Liz!)
Me: No idea. I'll think of something.
Brandon: Nothing. He's at school and won't be back until the whole trick-or-treating is over.

Here's a picture of the three oldest in their costumes this morning before school (and #4 in his awesome T-rex pajamas):

I'm sure I'll have awesome photos for you tomorrow night during the trunk-or-treat.

What are you gonna be for Halloween? What about your kids? Have any crazy dreams lately?

Here I Go Again!

Not knowing equals stunted brain waves.

I can't think ahead. I can't plan. And for a born-with-it planner, this is pure torture at times. Torture, I tell you!
Halloween? Easy. We'll be here.
Thanksgiving? We'll probably be here. Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe.
Christmas? Ack! I have no idea!!
January? Stop it! Stop it! Get me a paper bag, I'm gonna pass out!

We could move. We could easily move to Northern California or Southern California or Seattle or...well, that's probably it. We could also stay. Easily stay.
We just don't know. You know?

Irony: I've done this two other times. This is the third. Third time's a charm, right? It's easier, right?
RIGHT!?

Michelle W. told me on the phone: So, are you gonna freak out later, since you're all calm now?
me: Nah. I'm doing good! No freak-outs from me!

Michelle W.? This is me. Freaking out. A little bit.

My life over the weekend and stuff and whatever, blah, blah, whoo-hoo...

Sometimes I think it would be easier to just give up.
I asked Brandon about this the other night. We were hangin' out at Velour to see Brandon's childhood/teen-hood buddy Cary Judd play (who rocks, btw!) and I asked him:

Me: Do you ever think it would be easier to just stop doing all Church stuff? Just go with the flow? Drink the coffee, skip church, you know...just give up?

B: No.

Me: You've never thought about it?

B: Nope. Church is easy.

Me: What do you mean?

B: It's easy to do Church.

Me: So, you've never felt the pull professionally to do any of those things? Go drinking with the guys or whatever?

B: Nope. Church makes it easy not to. You don't waste your money on stuff that makes you puke and wake up with a headache. You have a built-in support system. You've got guidance. It's easy.

Me: Good point.

[And just to be clear: I don't doubt my faith. Nor do I judge those who don't believe in my faith. I was being philosophical and having a deep conversation with the hubby. Okay, okay --semi-deep.]
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Three Football Games:
BYU, after beating OU and Tulane and feeling all good, was destroyed by FSU. *sniff

Provo High School lost their game to Timpview Friday night --for the 20th time in a row. Provo had won all of their games up to that point (or most of 'em) and had this star player --who was knocked out in the 1st quarter and taken to the hospital.

BYU had their homecoming game on Saturday and played against TCU. I was all despair-like as TCU kicked BYU in the head.

One Common Theme:
I was at all of those games!
I swear, I'm cursed. Or I curse football. Or something.

Although, my friend told me that her hubby has never been to a BYU or PHS game where they have won. NEVER. Not in 20 years. Now, that's cursed!
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Can you believe Mika wouldn't go down that water slide on The Amazing Race last night!? That was INSANE. I mean, I have a very good healthy fear of heights (and spiders and tight spaces and puke and we'll stop there) but Holy Cow, girl! I still can't believe she didn't do it. So sad, so very, very sad...
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We took the kids to get pumpkins tonight, and I had a great time watching them, their dad, and their grandpa carve them while I ate pizza (thanks to my FIL for the pictures):

For Brandon:

The most successful people are those who are good at plan B.
~James Yorke