is no news good news?

I suppose the answer to that question would be: it all depends.

Scenario #1: My not blogging for over 2 weeks

I received quite a number of emails from concerned friends: Are you okay? I miss reading what you have to say, etc.. It all makes me feel quite happily befriended, this concern of my potential falling off the face of the earth. In response to those concerned, I was gone, on vacation, and for most of the time in primitive circumstances at that, so I didn't write anything blog-wise. My vacation, however, has given me plenty of blog fodder for not-to-far off posts. You can't wait.

Scenario #2: My secret surprise

Perhaps those of you who've been pregnant before have had the thought, "I know what I'll do, I 'll just not tell anyone and wait until people start noticing -- what a fun way to announce my pregnancy!"

Well.

I had the intention of doing this over a year ago, but a miscarriage interrupted my plans. I had been given a November due date but late March ended it all. My plan had been to show up in New York for my 10-year class reunion and just show my pregnant-ness to my mom, rather than tell her on the phone ahead of time. My mom has never been told of my pregnancies face-to-face by me (since she lives so far away), nor has she ever been the first in my family to know. I thought it would all work out so perfectly, but it didn't.

This past February, however, I put the plan into action again. I knew I'd be seeing my family in June, so I just thought I'd keep it a secret until the reunion. That meant a secret from everyone, including readers of my blog (of which my mom is one). I didn't even tell my kids. (My 4-year-old's preschool teacher from this past year just happens to be the sister of my YW pres from my growing up years in NY, so if she [teacher] found out, she might have told her sister, who might have told my mom, etc..)

It wasn't too hard to keep the secret, although I did get nervous when we had friends and family stay at our house. I thought my over-tiredness or food aversions would be a dead giveaway. Not so. In fact, just a few weeks ago, part of Memorial Day weekend, my sister-in-law spent a few days with me and went home none the wiser.

On my last Sunday at church before all my fancy travels (Texas, Indiana, what-have-you), I did let the YW know. It was the one Sunday when I could no longer stand to wear regular clothes - I just had to put on a maternity skirt or else I was afraid I'd burst. Just so there was no question in their minds, I let them all know that they could stop the speculation and whispering, that yes, I am pregnant. That announcement, to the group, was met with much love and many "Awwwww"s.

Here's the part I didn't expect: the reaction from most of the people I told personally, from that point (that Sunday) on. Not as I expected.

One friend, that Sunday at church, said, "So, you lied about it on your blog." I...don't remember doing that. I do remember asking my mom to stop asking my brother if I was pregnant, but not lying about the fact that I was (am) pregnant.

When I saw my mom in Indiana, I jumped out of my car and she looked genuinely surprised, but tried to say, "I knew it." I say tried to say it because I gently reminded her that she, in fact, did not 'know it', and also that it was my news to tell and to please let it be my special news. She was very obliging. Didn't even tell my stepdad.

No, but my cousin's husband did. And then my stepdad told my brother & sister-in-law.

And my sister and her boyfriend told my dad.

Anyway, the moral to my story is that most of the people that I 'told' (ie, let figure it out by noticing my expanding belly -- the way I thought would be so fun to announce my pregnancy) didn't have as an exciting reaction as I thought they would have. It seemed anticlimactic. Maybe their feelings were hurt - I got that impression. Sadly, I think they all thought that everyone else had been told (hence, the examples above of family members telling other family members). The, "Why didn't you tell me?" factor seemed pretty high.

Maybe no news wasn't good news. Because when the news was given it wasn't as exciting as I'd hoped it would have been. My plan seems to have backfired.

Or, maybe it was all okay and my super-sensitive ultra pregancy emotions are just standing at attention.

Either way, I'm excited.

And...





It's a BOY!!!

ode to northern mexico

Dear Last Handful of Days,

Thank you for your very detailed life lessons. Perhaps most importantly, thank you for teaching me to be thankful for the following things:

1. A pilot that knows how to navigate through the worst freaking storm in the history of flying, I'm sure...at least for me. And for the sense of self enough to not curse him out for not ascending quickly enough.

2. The Jones family who called El Paso from Phoenix and made sure there would be a rental car guy working so that we could get a car at 2:am.

3. The confirmation that I shall never again let Cheeze Nips in to my mouth.

4. Friends that love surprises and parties and bounce houses, and that will make decisions for me because I don't want to.

5. Traveling companions with more guts than me, especially when it comes to talking the vendors down for their crap that I so want to buy.

6. Naps on LoveSacs.

7. A steak dinner with a salad and a potato, and, yes, even peanut shells that you may throw onto the floor.

8. United States EPA air standards.

9. Cell service in Mexico.

10. 29 years without a sunburn, especially the 2nd-degree-ish purple kind.

11. Dr. Katz, the Duggar Family, and Lifetime Original Movies about Mary Kay Ash.

12. A husband that stays home with kiddos so that I can go cavorting around to celebrate World Cup game victories in various countries and such.

Fondly,

jennyfivetina

ahem.

I'd like to draw your attention to the newest member of the floral shirt club.

Just click here and check her out on the sidebar. You know the one. Then let me know what you think.

and boy are my arms tired

I have really absorbent clothing.

I'll tell you how I know that in a minute.

First, let me tell you about what happened a few weeks ago. I had a gift card from RC Willey for $26.31. They mailed it to me to "thank" me for purchasing a dining set there. Wow. What the heck can you buy at RC Willey for $26.31? I'll tell you: two little red trays (gifts for my girls), a candle (pomegranate scented), and a purple blanket. Okay, not exactly $26.31 - you have to pay an extra $.29, but so what. All these treasures were found at the back of the maze of that place, in the clearance section (except the candle - who decided the prices for candles? it's a scandal...).

Since the blanket had been on clearance (and everything that goes along with it, ie, opened, fondled, whathaveyou), I set out to wash it first thing. I read the care instructions (as I always do - really. With everything that I wash) and it said to hand wash and either line dry or tumble dry low. Well, pardon me, but that blanket was too soft and too big and too wonderfully purple for me to consider hand-washing; I wanted to use it right away. So I did a delicate cycle with Woolite. When the washer was finished spinning, I opened the lid to see that huge chunks of the blanket had been spun off. I'm not talking about little flecks of lint - chunks. Still, the blanket was intact, so I threw it in the dryer (after cleaning the lint screen, of course, which I always do - really.) on low heat with a fabric softener sheet. I couldn't wait for the dryer to finish and then cuddle up with my newest blanket. I opened the dryer door and found...a wet blanket. Uh-oh. More chunks. I cleaned the lint screen, which was saturated with soft, fluffy purple. I tried another dry cycle, which left the blanket, again, warm but more-than-damp.

Crap.

I went outside to tell Darin that our dryer was broken or clogged or somesuch. He was talking with the two neighbors that we're sandwiched between, one of which is an electrician. Electrician groaned when Darin turned to ask him a question. (I don't like bothering people I know for stuff - I'm almost always more comfortable hiring a stranger - why is that??) I then realized that in the 3 years that we've lived in this house, we hadn't had the vents/ducts cleaned. Not-Electrician Neighbor said that I could call a duct-cleaning service and they'd send a guy out and it would only cost like twenty bucks.

Try sixty.

And it didn't fix the problem. The vent was clean, but upon further inspection, the dryer itself wasn't putting out any air to get to the vent. Darin ended up taking the back of our dryer off the next night, and yanked out about 3 pounds of stuff, mainly pretty purple lint.

My point in telling you this story is that the night my dryer didn't work for the blanket, I ended up taking all my laundry to the laundromat. I was afraid that my dryer was dead, and, more importantly, li'l ~j. needed clean uniform clothes, even though it was only the last week of school. So I carried all of our dirty laundry to that place by Cafe Rio and in a few short hours, it was all finished. All done, and the bonus is that our dryer wasn't broken after all.

Fast forward to two days ago.

The nice thing about having church at 1:pm is that, incase you forgot to get clothes ready on SaturdayIsASpecialDay, you have time in the morning to do a few loads of laundry. (That's the only nice thing, by the way.) And so I first did a load of towels (have I told you that all I've done this summer so far, it seems, is wash towels? I love the swimming season), and then a load which included the dress and tights that Curly really wanted to wear.

Waiting for the towels to dry, I went into the laundry room to see how much time I had to wait.

That's when I smelled it.

Like fire, but I could see no smoke. I opened the dryer and took a whif. Nothing but clean towel goodness. What the...?? Could it be our air conditioner? Had we been running it too much? I left the room, thinking maybe I had imagined it. After about ten minutes, I went back. The smell was worse. I moved the dryer around and couldn't figure out where the smell could be coming from. Not long after that, li'l ~j. told me she smelled fire, and Darin was in the laundry room inspecting the dryer. We could not figure this out.

Once the towels were finished drying, I proceeded to put the second load into the dryer. I opened the washer.

BLECH!!

That's where the smell was coming from.

The washer was filled with water and a nasty smell. I turned the washer off and unplugged it. I figured out that the smell had come from the motor trying to run, but something was stopping it. I was talking to my dad on the phone at this time and he suggested that perhaps a bearing had come loose or somesuch. I ignored it for as long as I could, which ended up being until yesterday afternoon. (We really go through a lot of towels.)

I got all of the laundry ready and had Darin load it into the van, along with the detergents and such. But that left one more load that I had to get.

And that's why my arms were tired. And how I know that I have absorbent clothes.

Imagine: a washing machine filled with water and clothes. I did plug it back in to try to spin it out (for a millisecond before I heard a rattle - guess my dad was right), but ended up removing each piece of clothing and wringing it out so that I could take it to the laundromat. The worst ones were Superstar's terrycloth swimming robe and a pair of my pants.

It was a sweaty two hours at the laundromat, filled with Univision (have you ever seen Cristina? It's a spanish Maury or something, and it's vile - there was a guy from Salt Lake City on there talking about how he has always known he was a homosexual but his church made him go on a mission and then get married to a girl to 'cure' him and he broke his wife's heart and now he has two boyfriends and they all share a bed. He actually said, "Well, it's a big bed." Tool.). I remember once hearing Marie Osmond (who, for your FYI, I classify with Oprah, so you know what that means, except Marie's not all up in my face all the time like Oprah) say that sometimes she has her kids load up suitcases and they go to a laundromat and get it all done and the kids think it's a blast. Now, I don't think I'll be bringing my kids with my any time soon or ever, but I really like getting it all done at once. Still, though, I'd like to know the fate of my washing machine. We've had it for 6 &1/2 years. Is it time for a new one? What's the timeline on when to get a new appliance?

BONUS: Afterwards, I went to Pudding On The Rice, and I got some of their Vanilla Rice, Rice Baby to take home. Yum. That was my reward. Even though I just called it Vanilla because I don't like them calling it Vanilla Rice, Rice Baby.

the vote is tomorrow

"We urge our members to express themselves on this urgent matter to
their elected representatives in the Senate."

Even if you're not "a member", let your voice be heard.

If you live in Utah, here's some help:

email Senator Hatch

email Senator Bennett

boy oh boy oh boy

My oldest daughter, who is seven, has pretty much been a tomboy up to this point. She still doesn't get into the doll scene as much as other girls. Don't get me wrong, she likes glitter and a spinny dress as much as the next chica, she just...isn't as into it as, say, my other daughters, particularly the one who is four. That daughter loves to watch me put on make-up, and play with my jewelry and brush her hair and the like. Li'l ~j. ...not so much. She's in a hurry to get outside and play basketball or ride bikes.

We had a few incidents a while ago with li'l ~j. not being completely honest (well, more like blatantly lying just because), and it came out that she doesn't want us to be mad. So we've done our best to make it clear that as long as she tells us the truth, everything else can be worked out.

Let me just tell you.

She tells me the truth all right. About everything. Every thought, every action, every thought that was almost an action ("I feel like I stole Skittles from Miss Morgan, but I didn't!"). She incessantly confesses everything and although it can be draining, at times, for me to listen to it, I feel that we're establishing a good habit, so we keep it up.

Lately, the confessions have been about boys. Who she's got a crush on (which, I have to admit, is easier for me to hear than that she 'loves' some boy), who else has a crush on who else, etc.. She starts the crush talk with the following:

"Mom, I have to tell you a secret, okay, and promise, PROMISE you won't tell anyone, just keep this between the two of us, okay?"

Every time. That's how she starts it every time.

I think my favorite description is this:

"Sometimes I feel like I have a crush on Hunter, but I don't!"

I like that description because I remember feeling that way, and li'l ~j.'s the one who was able to put it into words. When she's with a boy that she can be friends with, she gets an imitation of a crush, but upon further reflection, she knows that it's not actually a crush. I have a hard time explaining it even now.

We've been taking swimming lessons each morning this week (I say "we" because while li'l ~j. & Curly are in their classes, Superstar & I take a parent/toddler class as well) and just yesterday li'l ~j. told me that there's a boy in her class that she's got a crush on. She doesn't know his name. They've never spoken to each other.

Ahh, seven year olds.

Today, after lessons, li'l ~j. said to me, "Mom, you know that boy that...you know? Well, today he talked to me."

"Really? What did he say?"

"When he stands the water goes to here (points to her forehead) on him. He told me that. And about swimming fast."

She still doesn't know his name.

I'm glad lessons will end next week. But she'll find another, I'm sure.