Sunday, March 30, 2008

Juvenile jokes at my daughter's expense

Part of a mother's job is to pass down juvenile practical jokes to their children, right? I don't know why I remembered these the other night, but I'm glad I did. They were just as fun as they were in junior high! Remember the one where you have someone squeeze their chin really tightly and then they end up with a bruise? I don't even remember how you're supposed to get the person to do it, but I didn't have to give a reason. She's only 9 so when I told her to make a fist and squeeze her chin really tight for as long as she could, she listened. HA HA!

Then there's the quarter trick. Memba this? You trace a quarter onto a piece of paper with a pencil, making sure you go around and around spreading as much lead into the grooves on the edge of the quarter as possible, then you hand the quarter to the person and tell them to roll it up their face from their chin to their forehead and see if they can drop it from their forehead directly onto the circle you traced.


She didn't realize she had a line down her face when I told her to smile pretty for a picture!
I'm so immature, but I'm okay with that.

A sweet moment

Tonight we had family home evening, since Dario will be gone all this next week. When we told the kids that we were having it tonight, the response from little Dario was a big, "Ugh, do we have to?" We all went into the family room and had a little lesson on the first couple paragraphs of "The Family: A Proclamation to the World ". It was a nice discussion and we basically just explained the meaning of the words and emphasized that we are children of our Heavenly Father and how neat it was to think about that and realize our potential in this world. When we finished Dario asked little Dario to give the prayer. Gabby wanted to give the prayer and was disappointed that she didn't get called on. My kids usually fight over whose turn it is (fighting over prayer-really nice I know). But this time when little Dario bowed his head, he lifted it again and told Gabby that she could say the prayer if she would like to. So Gabby offered the prayer and they both felt good. I was so proud of little Dario and I pulled him aside afterward and told him so. He then asked, "Can we have family home evening every night?" What a change! I explained to him that the wonderful peaceful feeling he was having then, and when he felt moved to let his sister give the prayer, was the Holy Spirit. He smiled and nodded. It was a wonderful moment, one that makes me so glad that I'm a mother to my children and a daughter of my Heavenly Father, and blessed that I get to share in the knowledge of the gospel of Jesus Christ with my family.

Saturday, March 22, 2008

Isn't he pretty?

I was sitting at my desk yesterday when Dario came out of the bathroom and ran by me like he was trying to hide something. I don't know how I recognize this run, but I always do. So I told him to come back into the room and show me what he was hiding. He didn't want to come in, but I insisted, so he reluctantly stepped back into the room, wearing a dress and red lipstick, and with his head hanging down sheepishly said, "Gabby dressed me like a girl." Gabby came belly-laughing out of the bathroom and I immediately grabbed my camera. He took off running for his room and Gabby and I chased him and she held him down while I got this picture.

Don't worry. He's not scarred forever. He thought it was funny too and actually posed for one right after this.

I'm so proud

I've been being a good mom and trying to do some home preschool with Roman. Recently we've been working on drawing circles and straight lines. He's apparently really excited about it because he's taken to practicing on his own.
I'm so proud.

Thursday, March 20, 2008

Rotten food connoisseur

Would you consider eating yogurt that had been expired for a month but still smelled okay?

Uh.... me neither.

Especially since getting sick the day before I have to stuff these eggs-

all 1300+ of them,

at my house with about thirtyhundred other ladies that I guilted into it, and 2 days before the big neighborhood egg hunt which I am in charge of (can't quite remember why I signed up for that- oh yeah, it was to refute my reputation as a deadbeat), would be a disaster.

Otherwise, I may have considered it.

Oh, don't act all surprised. I already told you I eat very questionable meat.

Monday, March 17, 2008

Muscle man

Little Dario is really into his muscles right now. He likes to check them out and admire their big-ness, and to make sure we admire their big-ness too.

"Mom, look at my muscles. They're pretty big for a 5 year old."

"Hey Mom. I drank all my milk this morning. Look."

Saturday, March 15, 2008

Craigslist 101

Good evening ladies and gentleman, and welcome to "Craigslist 101". I'm here to show you how to make tens, hundreds, even millions of dollars from crap you have laying around your home, yard, or garage by selling it on How is this possible you ask? Well, my friends, it's simple. I'm here to tell you the secret lies in these 3 little words:

1. beautiful
2. vintage
3. shabby chic

With these 3 magic words you can transform your junk and cast-offs into cold hard cash. And I'm here to show you how.

Let's start with the first magic word- "beautiful". Now you might think that to list your item as beautiful it would have to be "pleasing to the eye" or "nice to look at". But folks, here's where you need to widen your horizons. The definition of "beautiful"need not be restricted to such stifling terms. Take these examples from my local craigslist listings, whose titles all contained the word "beautiful": As you can see, "beautiful" can also mean "lots and lots of flowers" or "ruffly" or "very busy" or "lots of bright and shiny colors in an alien face pattern". You may have thought you would have to set these items out on the curb for trash pick-up, but I'm here to tell you that simply is not the case. Just list your flowery, ruffly,busy, or shiny items on craigslist using the word "beautiful" in the listing title, and you can now charge hundreds of dollars! Wow! So easy!

Okay, let's move on to "vintage". This is the magic word that immediately turns "old and kinda gross" into "old in a very cool and stylish way". Yeah baby. When you use the word "vintage" in your listing title, people will want to just open their wallets and dump all their cash right into your pockets.

Take this old Barbie van that someone dug out of the box of toys their mother saved from when they were a kid. Put vintage into the description and voila! From junk to $30.

How about this duck lawn ornament with a broken beak? Call it "vintage" and BAM! It just went from trash to $20. (This duck is white and has peely paint so it could also be classified as "shabby chic", but more on that later.)
Now for the massage table. You might think this is junk, but add the word "vintage", and WHAMMO! Fitty bucks. Do you know how much people will pay for a "vintage massage"? Me neither, but it must be a lot judging by the price of this table.
And take a look at this suitcase. I'll bet you all have an old suitcase or two lying around the house. Well take a lesson from this seasoned seller, and put that baby up for sale as "vintage". This particular suitcase has been in the lister's family for 25 years! Don't be shy to tell people that. It speaks to the true quality and durability of the piece. So dig those suitcases out from the recesses of your attics and make a quick $25!

And lastly, this lawn chair. You might think the dirt and rust would make this non-saleable, but you'd be wrong. It only adds to the "vintage-ness" of the chair. List it as such, and make an easy $15.

And last but certainly not least, we'll move on to our last key word, "shabby chic". If you have anything white with crusty peeling paint, then "shabby chic" is the word you're looking for. People will pay top dollar for these items.

Old door frame as "shabby chic" home decor.

This table isn't banged up. It's "shabby chic!"

This headboard doesn't need a new paint job. It's so "shabby chic". Also, the house behind it was not listed, but it should have been. It's not dilapidated. It's "shabby chic" and I'm sure it could fetch top dollar listed as such.

So there you have it people. Put these lessons into practice and you'll be sure to make some quick dough. And don't forget to join me next time for "Craigslist 110" where I'll be discussing how to turn your junk from the 50's into dollars by using the term "mid-century".

Monday, March 10, 2008

The toothfairy is incompetent

Remember how I told you that sometimes the tooth fairy in my house forgets to leave the loot? Well, I thought that was the worst I could do, but it turns out I was wrong. Oh so wrong. And there was no getting out of it easily this time either.

Little Dario lost one of his top front teeth. It had been loose for so long, and he was really happy to finally have it pulled out and to be able to leave it for the tooth fairy so he could score some cash. He was all smiles right before he went to bed.

I told him to go put his tooth in a glass for the tooth fairy and leave it on the counter next to the refrigerator. He went downstairs to do it and came back up and said, "I put it in a tall glass so she'll find it easier!" Good plan son. Good plan.

Dario falls asleep fairly quickly so I was sure that I wouldn't forget this time around. Well, I was almost wrong about that, but then just before I headed up to bed that evening, I remembered. And believe me, I was plenty proud of myself, and frankly, relieved that I wouldn't have to confront a crying Dario the next day with an explanation of how the tooth fairy must have injured a wing or something and couldn't fly to our house that night.

My relief was very shortlived however, when after I had dug 4 quarters out of the coin jar and come back to the kitchen to swap the tooth out with them, I saw no glass. And definitely no tooth. Okay, Dario must have just put it on the wrong counter, I told myself. So I checked the other counters. Nope, not there. Then I thought that maybe I emptied it into the sink by accident, but I checked the counter by the sink and there were no tall glasses. Still, I had big Dario dig down into the disposal to make sure it wasn't in there. Nope. Now I was starting to worry a little. Dario and I began to check all around the house. We checked all the bathroom counters. Both of us even dug under little Dario's pillow just in case he had changed plans thinking the toothfairy would figure it out. No tooth. How in the world could this happen? I could just imagine the disappointment on little Dario's face in the morning when he didn't find his quarters in the glass where he had left his tooth. I couldn't just pull out any glass, because our glasses are all mismatched and I had no idea what kind of glass he had left his tooth in.

And yes, I realize now that I probably could've left the money on the counter without a glass and it might not have phased him, but that's just not how my mind works, okay? It has to be done just exactly right or I'm afraid my kids will catch on to the truth, just like how I have to have all the presents from Santa wrapped in a different type of wrapping paper than the ones that are from us. It just HAS to be that way. And so it doesn't occur to me that I could fudge a little and it probably wouldn't matter. If that had occurred to me, maybe I wouldn't have done what I did next, which was to make my son cry.

Because, after both Dario and I had searched the house in vain and had found no sign of the tooth, the only solution that I could see was to wake Dario up and ask him if he had left his tooth out for the toothfairy, and when he replied that he had, and reiterated that yes, he had left it next to the fridge, and yes, it was in a glass, and yes, he was sure, I proceeded to tell him that I thought I had lost his tooth, and that I would write the toothfairy a note and ask her to please leave something anyway because it was all my fault.

And then he cried.

Because I am a bad mom.

So I wrote the toothfairy a note:

And then, what do you know? The tooth fairy wrote back, in handwriting very similar to my husband's, and also Santa's, and also left 4 shiny new quarters.

And little Dario woke up the next morning and was pleased as punch to see his quarters on the counter, and didn't even read the notes. So all was well.

Except for the fact that later that morning my husband noticed that there was a bloody little tooth lying in the bottom of my water glass on my nightstand which I had been sipping from all night.

Monday, March 3, 2008

Fish flax

Okay, I just had to post this. Forgive me if you don't find this as crazy cute as I do. I love the little fishy with the cleft-tail and big smile. And I really love the the part where he says, "He like it." If you can't quite make it out, this is what it says- "Her(e) is my fish. I am feeding. I feed him fish flax (flakes). He lik(e) it." That head with legs on the right side is Dario Jr. Love it.

Hack Hack Hack

I singlehandedly ruined an entire family's special moment with their new baby this Sunday. Okay, I probably didn't entirely ruin it, but I'm sure I messed it up quite a bit. I've had a cold for a few days now, but I was feeling well enough on Sunday to go to church. That morning a family in my ward (congregation) was blessing their child. This is a special moment for a family with a new little one, where all the relatives come and priesthood holders, including the child's father and close friends and family, lay their hands upon the new child's head and ask Heavenly Father to bless him or her. Everyone bows their heads and is very quiet while the blessing is being given. Everyone that is, except me, who , right at the very moment the father of this beautiful little girl began to speak, launched into one of the worst uncontrollable coughing fits of my life. It felt like someone was tickling the top of my throat with a feather, and I could not control my reaction AT ALL. At first I tried to just clear my throat gently, but that only made the situation worse. Pretty soon I was coughing repeatedly, and LOUDLY. The poor girls' mom probably couldn't even hear the blessing over all the ruckus, but I absolutely could not stop. Believe me, I tried. This resulted in some heavy gagging and more fitful coughing. I was so mortified with myself. I wanted to stand up and run out of the chapel, but I thought that would create an even bigger distraction. So the coughing and gagging while unsuccessfully trying to hold it in continued all the way to the very end of the blessing, whereupon as the child's father held her up for all to see, and everyone oohed and ahhed over her, I finally stood up, red-faced and still hacking, and hightailed it outside into the foyer. SO embarrassing.