30 Rock Tour, weekend edition

Day #


has been eventful. Today was Opening Day of softball, which includes a parade and all sorts of happenings besides an actual game. So we were out of the house early(ish) this morning, and I didn't get a chance to open my present until this afternoon. (I know you were all on pins and needles in suspense!)

True confessions: I felt a little dumb after I opened #5 for not having guessed what it was. I don't know, but I'm going to blame the lack of mental acuity on softball. (Don't get me wrong, I love softball, and I love enabling my children to participate in these things, but wow. You should spend a Saturday with us someday. You would undoubtedly be convinced of my insanity.)

Then again, Alaina guessed that it was socks. ("You're talkin' gibberish." I think I need to pull that movie out.)

So what was the mysterious gift?



A pretty purple candle!

I have no doubt set a precedent of regaling you with witty anecdotes with some connection to the gift I received. Sorry. It's not going to happen today. I mentioned softball, right? And the sick children?

The candle smells like lavender, for those who were curious. I love it!

"that's how old I am!"

Which can only mean that it is Day #


And I guessed it today!

I was very proud of myself.

Let's see if you can guess.

It was small, about 4 inches by 6 inches and an inch (maybe less) thick. It was squishy, but not like a shirt.

Any guesses?

Well, I suppose I didn't guess the entire contents, to be fair. The girls snuck a surprise in there.

Here's the thing I didn't guess:


Initial post-its! In purple! Aren't they cute?

And I'm going to use them. My trouble is that I'm a hoarder. I like to save things that I love. I don't know what I'm saving them for, really. But it applies to everything, and I've been doing it since I was little. I can distinctly remember saving the best of my Halloween candy for literally months (because, of course, you eat the stuff you like least first). I think it's something about wanting things I love to last as long as possible. (Lisa and/or any other psych majors out there, you are not allowed to psychoanalyze me!) I'm pretty sure I can blame it on at least one of my parents. My dad stashes things like you would not believe. In fact, it's a familial trait.

Anyway, back to the birthday present!

Did you figure it out? It's stationery! And check it out:


It has my name on it! I think every girl needs personalized stationery. If you don't have some, I will get you some at the next gift-giving opportunity. Seriously. Just find some clever way to let me know that you don't have any. Or just come right out and say it, doesn't matter to me!

I have received personalized stationery as a gift at different points in my life. The first time was when I was 5 or 6. I'm not sure when exactly, but I was old enough to write. Anyway, it was lined letterhead that said "from Amber Lulla" with a cartoon drawing of a little girl writing a letter. I am pretty sure I still have a few sheets. (I told you I was a hoarder.)

The second time was for my high school graduation. A family friend from church gave all of the graduating senior girls personalized note cards. I love these note cards. My first name is embossed on the front. And yes, I still have some!

When we ordered our wedding invitations, we ordered matching thank you notes with our first names on the front. They are vellum with two purple butterflies. I like them, of course, since I picked them out. There's a story about the day I went to order wedding invitations. But I'll save that for another day - it's a very rainy story.

I could be wrong, but I'm guessing there's a story behind this present. As in, where did it come from and how was I not told about this?!?

and now, the moment you've all been waiting for...

Day #

Ashlee thought it would be fun if I tried to guess what was in each one before I opened it. The thought actually crossed my mind yesterday, so I readily agreed.

Here is the paraphrased transcript of my thoughts:

{It's heavy...kind of like a book. It could be a book. Seems too heavy for a picture frame or photo album. I think it's a book or...photo coasters.}

End transcript. Are you in awe of the inner workings of my mind? You should be.

Now I'll bet you'd like to know what was actually in the bag. Or you may not care. But if you don't care, I'm pretty sure you have vowed not to visit my blog for at least the next month and aren't reading this anyway!

So without further adieu...


OH! Do you grasp the significance of this beautiful purple package?!?

Here, let me point out the most relevant details:

and:


I have a little story to tell you. I must admit that I am not the world's biggest fan of m&m's. Well, more accurately, I wasn't the world's biggest fan of m&m's. I mean, the peanut ones were good, and the peanut butter ones were good; I was just never addicted to them. And then these marvelous confectionery creations appeared in stores. They were originally released in conjunction with one of the new Star Wars movies (not even worth getting into that), with some sort of marketing slogan about going to the dark side. Clever enough. They only came in the little bags, and I don't mean the little big bags. I mean the little bags that you find in the checkout aisle. At first, we only found the plain variety. And those were good, don't get me wrong. But then, on a day that will go down in the history books (or maybe not, as I have no idea what day it was...I could maybe figure out the year with some strenuous mental calculations) someone found the peanut variety! I honestly don't remember who it was.

Of course, as these things go, just about as soon as we discovered the wonder that is dark chocolate peanut m&m's, they disappeared. (Remember the part about them being linked with the Star Wars movie? Yeah. Movie done, candy done.) Then again, maybe it was Ashlee who discovered them because apparently things she discovers and loves get discontinued.

A tragedy of such proportions requires action! So we sent emails to m&m's. Again, as these things go, they listened to Ashlee but not to me and about a year later, dark chocolate m&m's (plain and peanut) triumphantly returned!

If you'd like, you can submit my history of dark chocolate peanut m&m's to wikipedia. It couldn't possibly be anymore ridiculous than some of the stuff that ends up on there.

By the way, there is a proper way to eat m&m's. (Warning: nerd alert.) Any guesses why you must eat all of the colors besides red, yellow, and blue first and then ensure the correct numbers of those three colors so that you can eat one of each color together? I've been doing this since high school.

and behind door #2...

Welcome to day #2 of the 30 Rock Tour!


Instead of wisely using this time during which the baby is sleeping to clean something or do something similarly productive (or even eating breakfast), I am blogging. Because I can. (And I don't know how long he will sleep - I'm pretty sure this is a trauma-induced nap brought about by a visit to the doctor which included vaccines. But at least he doesn't have an ear infection. He does, however, have allergies. And what can you do about allergies for a 4 month old? That's right, zippo.)

Have I kept you in enough suspense yet?

Can you guess what I got? Here are some clues.

I got something for day #2 that I've never had before. It fits in my purse. (I already put it there!) It's cute. It's little. It has purple on it (my favorite color).

Any ideas?

I should clarify. I've had several of these in my lifetime, but never a cute little one that would fit in my purse.

The first one I had was blue and had a bear head for the handle. I think it had hearts on it. I loved it. There's a decent chance it's still in the closet in my parents' house. I got it when I was in kindergarten. In fact, I still love it! But even it would not fit in a purse.

Have you figured it out yet?

Have I ever told you about the rain boots my mom sent me my freshman year of college? There's not much need for rain boots in Omaha. Snow boots are necessary, of course, but it just doesn't rain in quantities that would call for rain boots. Or if it is raining that much, you'd better be inside because there's probably a tornado or a chance of a tornado accompanying it. So I moved to Houston for college and was soon acquainted with the subtropical climate. I think it was October, and it rained for a week. Literally. I wasn't entirely sure what to do with that, but I quickly learned that I needed a rain coat and rain boots in order to get to my classes. I didn't have an umbrella either, but a rain coat with a hood is much easier to deal with than an umbrella when traveling from class to class. So my mom sent me a red rain coat and bright yellow rain boots! I love these boots. I still have them and occasionally get to wear them. They're the kind of boots that require you to splash in puddles. Seriously. They're fabulous.

So have you guessed yet? (Hint: the above tangent was also a clue.)

Ta-da!


Isn't it cute and little?! Thanks girls! I love it!

on the first day of the 30 Rock Tour...

my good friends gave to me
a VeggieTales calendar!


So last night, Joe and I were watching 24, which we had recorded, of course. It's 9:35, and there is a knock at the door. Knowing that only crazy people knock on the door at that hour and that we are somewhat suspicious people by nature, Joe answers it. On the doorstep sits a giant box, wrapped with a bow on top. He stands there for a moment, looks around the corner, and says, "It's for you." So I went to the door, and there stand Ashlee, Tami, and Lisa, surrounding the giant box.

Did you know that today begins the 30 day countdown until my 30th birthday? I didn't. My friends did. So what did they bring me?



A giant box of toilet paper!


Not really. It is actually full of presents with numbered sticky notes! And today was day number one.


And this present proves just how well my friends know me. . . first that I get a VeggieTales calendar every year and second that I hadn't gotten one this year.

Now all of you get to celebrate 30 days of my birthday with me!

In other news, the children and I got to have lunch with my mom today during her layover on her way back from California. We ate at Godfather's Pizza. Did you know that in second grade I was friends with the son of the CEO of Godfather's Pizza? Well, I was.

In other other news, at least 2, maybe 3 out of 4 children have ear infections. Awesome.

dirty little secrets

There are a few things no one ever tells you about having a baby (and no, none of these are things I'm figuring out for the first time).

1. Your hair may start falling out after the baby is born. By the handfuls. It's gross. It gets everywhere. (It will come back, but you will start to wonder just how much hair can fall out.)

2. In the beginning, breastfeeding hurts. Like nothing you can imagine.

3. You will feel schizophrenic or bipolar or something. Somehow you have to achieve a balance of patience and calm during the times you have to feed or rock or otherwise entertain the baby and then find the motivation and opportunity to work as fast as you can during the brief periods of time the baby is sleeping or content to get as much done as possible.

4. You will probably only find any time to yourself if you forgo sleep.

I know it sounds like it, but I'm really not complaining. I'm actually pretty good at dealing with reality. But sometimes you step back and look at it and wonder at the reality.

pop quiz

image by Paul Carlson, from http://sprott.physics.wisc.edu/fractals.htm

What spreads farther, faster, and more insidiously than a virus?

(Because I want to be Ashlee when I grow up, I may just send out a prize for the correct and/or most creative answer.)

seriously?

I'm sorry, but it has to be said.

I have no strong feelings either way about tattoos. I personally would probably never get one, but I don't have a problem with them out of hand. Rather, I just feel that they are not as counter-cultural as some people who get them believe them to be or want them to be. Honestly, it seems to me that tattoos have become downright trendy. (Don't hate me, it's just my opinion from my observation of society.) Here is my proof. Sorry, I couldn't get a picture to load. It's "Barbie Totally Stylin Tattoos." Enough said.

ya gotta be quick!

I'm officially the worst mother ever.

Wednesday night, I (along with my semi-permanent arm accessory) went to dinner with the girls (Ashlee, Tami, and Lisa) for Lisa's birthday dinner. We went to BJ's, it was great! Anyway, this left Joe in charge of the other three children. (They played "Wii!" as Jared informed me the next morning.) So Joe texted me while I was at dinner, informing me that Alaina's tooth, which she had been messing with for a good 4 days, fell out. I texted him back to let him know that I would take care of it when I got home. Well, as it turns out, A.J. has been sick again this week (the weather has gone nuts again), and when he is sick, he refuses to be put down. So when I got home, my primary concern was to quiet him down so we could both get some sleep. Needless to say, I completely forgot about being the Tooth Fairy...until about 7am the next morning as the children were about to get up.

Naturally, I waited to see what Alaina would say. It was something along the lines of a shocked, "The tooth fairy didn't come!" This, of course, required some quick thinking on my part. So in case anyone ever asks, the Tooth Fairy occassionally takes a day off...and makes up for it with two quarters the next night.

just call me Sir Edmund

I wanted to post a picture of Jared's new haircut. But he wouldn't cooperate last night, deciding instead to stick out his chubby little hand and maul the camera lens. (Joe cleaned it, so no harm done.) So here is today's random photo:



Baby smiles make it all worth it.

I did something last Friday that I have not done before. I took all of the children out on a shopping expedition. For most, going to Target is a simple errand - run in, wander around for a while, run out, done. Nothing to write home about. Not so for us! It requires logistical analysis, pit stops, and crisis-aversion skills. Alaina pushes the stroller with A.J., and I put Jared and Jadyn in the cart and push it. (Child containment is the #1 strategy.) Two bathroom stops later, we finish shopping and have to stop for lunch. This kind of shopping trip demands nourishment. We did make it, and we got everything we needed with a minimum of behavioral issues, so it was a success. However, I don't believe I will be making a habit of it anytime soon.

I've decided that Jared compensates for his limited vocabulary through sheer repetition. Have you ever read the book Jacob Two-Two? Well, this is more like Jared Six-Six. I mean, what's the difference, really? As long as you're jabbering away nonstop all day long, who can tell that you don't say that many words? The entire time we were at lunch at Target, all I heard was, "Mama! More b's! Mama! More b's!" A "b," of course, is the generic term for any letter.

We're rearraging our office upstairs. My family can attest to the fact that it was out of control. The trouble is, boys don't stay out of anything. It's a harsh realization to which I've had to adjust. When the girls were little, they typically stayed out of stuff. They didn't bother things that they knew weren't theirs. Jared, on the other hand, wanders around the house looking for things to get into. We have a big chair and a half with an ottoman upstairs, and out of necessity, it is situated next to the railing. The girls have always been careful to sit in it after I told them they could fall out an hurt themselves if they stood. I'm fairly certain Jared has taken to standing in the chair more after I told him the same thing. So, of course, the chair must be moved. As is often the case, this cannot be accomplished until 20 other things have been done in order to have a place for the chair to move into. Have I mentioned that we're going to be looking for a bigger house?!?

miscellany

I have decided blog posts are much more interesting if there is a photo included. So, here is today's photo:


It has nothing to do whatsoever with this post, but it's cute.

I have been completely remiss in mentioning this, but my mom started a blog. Seriously. I posted way back when about how I thought my parents were cool, and so she went and proved it again. It all reminds me of the time I called my grandma and she asked me to hold on because she was on the other line. Technology is way out of control.

The conversation I had with Jadyn this morning:

Me: Jadyn, you can't wear that sweater, it's too warm today.

Jadyn: But I love it!

Me: I understand that, but it's too warm today for a sweater.

Jadyn: But I love my sweater.

Me: (getting a little sterner) Jadyn, you may not wear that sweater today.

She bursts out crying. But there are no tears, so it's really more whining.

Me: Are you seriously crying about the weather?!

Jadyn: (wailing) Yeah!

I'm not sure how she thought she could get away with that in this house...


There's more, I'm just out of time, so it'll have to wait for the next post and random picture.

Oh, and happy birthday Lindsey! :)