Tuesday, November 24, 2009

I'm Turning into Thanksgiving Linda

That's my mom by the way. She puts on a huge Thanksgiving festivus for anywhere from thirty to sixty plus people, and there is always something forgetful or interesting that happens in the prep. I am making a dinner for 7. That's it. So you think that I would have low stress. However, to add to the dinner is the fact that I signed up to have the missionaries over to dinner on Wednesday night and Kevin's brother, Jake, and his wife, Meredith, with new baby, Erica, are coming over, so that will be my show stopping dinner. I also work on Thanksgiving, so really, what can I do besides get it ready the day before, but it's nothing fancy. But I knew I needed a turkey, even though I thought about a ham, I really don't want to hear about how there wasn't leftovers or whatever, so while I was picking up stuff for dinner, I saw a Turkey breast in a roasting pan on a bed of red potatoes. Perfect, I thought for the Thanksgiving dinner for 7. I was really proud of myself for getting it all done without sweating, and as I was talking to Myrissa as I was driving home, I realized I already had a turkey defrosting in the fridge. I had hidden and forgot about it. Guess what's for dinner on Sunday?

Thursday, November 19, 2009

An Early Morning Blog

Okay, it really isn't early as I have been up for an hour and a half already (I'm turning into Mom), but Blake and I are the only ones awake and he is stacking his Fruit Loops in an array of patterns, so I thought this would be the perfect time to blog about our Halloween Miracle as it is known in our house. Every year, our ward and the Paradise Valley ward combine to have a Trunk or Treat, which is vehicles parked in the parking lot, trunks open, and another venue for free candy to be passed out. That is except for one of our ward's dentists who passes out toothbrushes. And as a tradition, there is chili and cornbread. I, of course, whip up a batch of my championship chili for members to enjoy and humbly serve it. But last year tragedy struck. Kevin brought the pot home with a different ladle than mine. This would have been okay if the ladle had been better than mine, much like the comment that Lavell Edwards made in the Mt. Timpanogos temple when Jake and Meredith were sealed and he said "If you can't come out of here with a better pair of shoes than you went in with, something's wrong with you" (for those of you unaware, you have to remove your shoes in the waiting room and put them in a shoe rack when inside the temple). I guess he felt that you should feel free to replace your shoes with something better. ANYWAY, this ladle was sub par at best. It looked at least twenty years old and mine was a blue silicone ladle that I loved. There was no way that I was going to get that back. Was I supposed to call up every person that had delivered chili to get my ladle back? Seemed like too much effort. So this year, made a different chili (I am NOT a one trick pony), but I was unable to attend the Trunk or Treat due to work obligations. Kevin joked that maybe my ladle would show up. Yeah, right. Somebody was loving that ladle and wouldn't take it to a function where it could get misplaced. So you can imagine my disbelief, when he brought the pot home with a ladle inside. He had not taken a ladle, so someone had put one in my chili for him (you gotta help a single husband out, right, sisters) and LO and BEHOLD, it was the same ladle! We stood there shocked. It was too good to be true. If that ladle can make it's way home, so can Joe. The door's open, buddy.

Monday, November 16, 2009

I've been Blog Called Out

I got an angry text today. HOW COME YOU HAVEN'T SAID ANYTHING ABOUT YOUR TRIP TO FLORIDA? That was from my dearest, most favorite, sweetest sister in law, Julie. Okay, only the first two adjectives were true. She may be little, but don't, I repeat DON'T, mess with her. She messed up some chick in a mosh pit a few years back and now, from what I hear, the girl walks with a limp. So, even though she is across the country, she still scares me, so I will now relive my vacay.
After a lovely airplane ride, highlighted by the fact that I was able to avoid any poop on me during the flight (that one was not fun, but is now a fun story to tell the person sitting next to you about what could have happened to them), I got off the plane in Orlando and felt like I had just walked in to someone's armpit. I have been to Orlando several times before, but this time it seemed especially damp. It is such an odd feeling not dragging anyone through the airport, or telling someone not to touch anything, or to get off the baggage carousel. So, instead, I enjoyed watching other parents do the same. My dear SIL picked me up and blah, blah, blah, we made it home, and there was my reason for being. There. Sophia Valentine. She looks just like her momma. So cute and little. I knew I was her favorite the moment I laid eyes on her.
We went to Riley (my namesake) and Caitlin's chorus concert. I kept telling my bro and SIL that these were not the songs/ actions that would go on where I live. Could it be because the area here is 98% white? Maybe. But they had a whole lotta Southern going on. Also, when I got out of the car, Julie yelled at Nick (the dear nephew) to help Aunt Kim not get bit by fire ants. Did I suddenly become a helpless auntie? I told them I could fend for myself and then ran as fast as I could until I hit cement. We had a lovely dinner afterwards, sponsored by my wonderful Dad (a.k.a. Daddy Warbucks). I was working that night and since Florida is three hours ahead of AZ, which meant that I would be up until about 2 am FL time, I got a hotel room. Again, it was a little odd being somewhere alone, not having to put anyone to bed and getting to watch WHATEVER I wanted to . Crazy. Check out time was at 11 am, and Lauren and I were scheduled to go shopping (we had to be sneaky and not let Riley know that we were going without her-she was in school), so she was going to come get me when I checked out. Imagine my surprise/horror/disbelief when I woke up at 10:45! That's 7:45 AZ time. I ran around trying to get my stuff together, then I called down to the front desk and said I wasn't going to make the checkout time. No problem, I had until 12pm.
Shopping was great. We hung out that night and watched Riley do her poi lights. I showed her my signature move. Spin them and don't get hit in the face. Like most Gillette trips that I have had there, there was one song in particular that was the theme. This trip it was "Low" by (of course) Flo-Rida.
The next day, Julie and I went to the gym. Good workout. Then we went to a birthday party that pretty much lasted all day. Lots of fun was had by all. I got in trouble that night, though, for holding Sophia too long when her daddy came home and had not held her yet. Can you blame me? But that little naughty girl, every time I turned around, she was leaving her new clothes on my bed. I told her she better keep track of her things.
Sunday, the girls and I went to Florida church, which is a lot like AZ church. We went to the mall to go to the movies with the family. Julie made a lovely dinner that was enjoyed by all. I made sure their children knew how lucky they were to have such a domesticated mom, because if they didn't, they might be subjected to frozen lasagna. Riley was horrified to hear that such a thing was possible. What a sheltered life she has led.
To sum up: it WAS a vacation....from responsibility. I enjoyed my time with my family immensely, even my brother, Matt, who did make one extremely rude comment about my fat #@!. I would have run crying to my room if this was twenty years ago, but now I knew he meant it as a term of endearment. I highly recommend this journey for anyone looking to escape, but you will never catch me living anywhere near Julie. There is no way that I can have my house as neat as hers with all those people and then grout the shower while entertaining. And I did get the best "nick"name ever (Nick gave it to me)/ I am now known as Fantastic Aunt Kim. Love it. And them. Especially Sophia.
P.S. This wasn't part of the fun, so I want it to be separate, however, it is still notable. On the flight back, I sat next to a grumpy, humorless man. I could tell before he even sat down. Flying makes me sleepy (how do the pilots stay awake), so, with no responsibilities, I dozed off. I was awakened to something cold and wet on my leg. It was ICE CUBES. Apparently, Grumpy had spilled his ice on me in my lap and it was a "conundrum" for him as to what he should do. That was what he had to say for himself. I brushed the ice off and went back to sleep. Maybe I should have brought Blake to poop on him after all.

Monday, November 9, 2009

Happy Birthday, Alison!

At the risk of alienating/ offending my sisters whom I have not blogged about how fantastic/ inspirational they are on their birthday (Stephanie did complain about it), I wish Alison a happy birthday and will now express how I grew to love and admire her.
I thought she was stuck up when I first met her. Now, this has happened to me many times before, where I totally misjudge someone, but in my defense, the first time we met, she did not talk to me at all. Our husbands were lifting buddies (Kevin frequently came home and told me how Skule's thighs were the size of tree trunks) and one night, the boys decided that both couples should go out to see a movie. We met at the Vagens and I don't think Alison even said hi to me, and then didn't talk to me the whole night. I was not used to this, because usually, when we went out with a friend of Kevin's, the wife and I would chat about whatever ( I can't even remember what it was back in those days, with no kids to discuss, what was there?) and leave the fellas to their "man" talk. So, I wrote her off as stuck up, unfriendly, and shallow. Fast forward about a year. We each had our first baby less than a month apart. She came over when her baby, Elsa, was a couple of weeks ago and was super friendly and told me all about her childbirthing experience (I remember that she in transition and kept focusing on the thermometer number to get her through the dilation, then after she had Elsa pronounced that she wanted to do it again!) and handed me chocolate. Could this be the same girl?! I was shocked, to say the least. After I had Dillan, it was the dead of winter, we had one car, which Kevin took to work since I was still on maternity leave, and not easily getting in the groove of things. That's when Alison saved me. I don't know where we went, but she would come get me and Dillan and we would go shopping, hang out, or whatever. Without her, I may have stayed in sweats and a t-shirt for years.
Alison is super crafty (like crafts, not sneaky). She has made me holiday curtains for my kitchen that are so great that I change with each holiday, that make it festive and fun in our kitchen. She's been my rock through crummy times in my life. A time when I thought that there wouldn't be a day when I wouldn't wake up crying. I can't believe that I ever thought she was stuck up. She is a friend to everyone, even people that I would never be friends with (sorry, Mom, I am not your perfect daughter). She's taught me how to be a good friend I miss having her close to me, and in the same ward where we can discuss other people's imperfections. She is smart, well educated, and amazes me at all that she can do. Alison is so much stronger than me (not strength, but spirit-I would beat her in a lifting competition). She's an exceptional mother with beautiful children. I am so grateful that I have this dear, lifelong, eternal friend. I am so blessed to have her. And to think that she's only turning 29. Love you, Al!

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

It is a competition, after all

I've got it! I knew Emz was very upset that I was thinking the marathon was a competition and even threatened to stop running during the marathon if it seemed like I was trying to compete, but then tonight I had a stroke of genius. I could compete with her in the number of sisters present at the finish line. Now I do have twice as many sisters as her, but all of her sisters live here, whilst none of mine do. Heh, heh, heh. So, sisters who read this blog (um, that may be two), if you are not busy January 17th weekend and want to spend an enjoyable, warm (Jen, Nikki, Kellie-that's for you), fun filled weekend (chances are HIGH that there will be a spa day on Monday), come to Phoenix. Please. I have to beat her somehow.
I got fitted for new running shoes today and was horrified when he told me the shoe size that was correct for me. 11. WHAT?! Since when did I have the shoe size of a drag queen? He promised not to put the number on the marquee outside, but he kept calling me "Roman Numerals". Ouch. But, on the flip side, I ran and my feet felt much better. He said that I was probably wearing too small of hiking boots which is why my toenails keep getting hammered. So now I have to get hiking boots in that ugly size. It will take me a few weeks to get those because I have to come to terms with this. And why can't they make flashy, cute shoes? They aren't purely for function. There needs to be a little bit of fashion in them.
That's the latest on my marathon preparation. I can't really say training. because since when was enticing four sisters to come to balmy Phoenix during the coldest month of the year where they are qualify as training?
By the way, if anyone has rocking cardio/ running songs that they like let me know. I asked my nephew, Nick, to give me a list, but his preferred songs are mostly death metal. I told him clean songs that aren't about scary things. Maybe that's why it's taking him so long to get me that list.