Week in Review

So, I was sitting in the office, busying myself with the blog-stalking of...well, YOU when Kort called out to me saying: "Mom! What are we doing for Linner?" (Sunday lunch/dinner served around 2:00) Now, Linner usually consists of oatmeal, fried eggs, cold cereal, or PB&J sandwiches...but oh no, not today it didn't. Today I felt like the home-maker/nurturer that I was BORN to be (but rarely am.) So off I went to the kitchen. I grabbed the gigantic bag of potatoes I'd just bought (because the bag was enormous and the price was $2.50) and started a peelin'. Might I also add that the potatoes were HUGE, which I always love because huge potatoes are SO much easier to peel. Then I defrosted some chicken, oiled it up, sprinkled some seasoning onto it, and tossed it into a frying pan. Then came the Stove Top Stuffing (Oh, how I love Stove Top Stuffing...can I just take a moment to rave about Stove Top Stuffing?) Now, many of you Thanksgiving Purists may cry "outrage!" but I've gotta say... when compared to all the "made from scratch" and "made from the best and freshest ingredients" stuffings I've ever had - Stove Top reigns supreme, but maybe I'm just ghetto...that's one entirely plausible explanation for my worshipful feelings toward that delectable little box o' stuffing...but, I digress. The point of this much too long paragraph is: that I made a rather large, Thanksgiving-esque dinner for my lovely family in just under 20 minutes- I kid you not! Those of you who know my life/schedule as of late, know that my boys have been living on Taco Bell, Art City Trolley Quesadillas, oatmeal, & PB&J! So you can imagine the sense of accomplishment I felt! (Okay, maybe not "accomplishment" so much as "not-so-loser-y" for one bright, shining moment in my otherwise disheveled life, but you get the idea.)

K, so my kid HATES mashed potatoes, and for some strange reason, I CANNOT accept/handle/understand/bear it! Is that weird? It doesn't bother me that he doesn't like soup, or spinach, or tacos...but the mashed potato thing is REALLY getting to me! My favorite part of Thanksgiving has ALWAYS been the mashed potatoes, so I cannot for the life of me understand how anyone can NOT like them - especially when that "anyone" happens to be my own offspring. It's blasphemy! Today, when I lovingly placed the bowl full of fresh, fluffy, white potatoes in front of Kort, he said: "I hate mashed potatoes!" and I immediately said

"No you don't!" No you don't? How would I know? It was a totally knee-jerk reaction on my part and I was surprised by the tone of it. I had stated it like it was a family law or something... "No boy of mine is gonna hate mashed potatoes and that's final!" The fact that I'm still thinking/talking/blogging about it should give you an idea as to how much it bothers me.

I need therapy...

Now what (you might ask) is a bottle of A-1 steak sauce doing on your beautifully prepared table during this particular meal? It all looks so tasty (you might say) and the chicken looks as though it has been seasoned to perfection (you might add). It seems that a bottle of A1 Steak Sauce might be ever so slightly out of place among this classy, classy spread...

My simple reply (to your terribly gracious statement/question) would be:

"Why, because I am married to the hunkiest, most manly man of them all. He is so manly, he even pours A1 and hot sauce on his breakfast cereal! In fact, he is so manly that when we dined at the River Horse Cafe in Park City, and he ordered the $50.00 slab of "super special for some reason" beef, he still had the guts to ask the waiter to bring him a bottle of A1 - (which, of course, they didn't have)! This was AFTER the stuffy waiter had rattled off a 2 minute description about how the cow was treated to daily massages, weekly psycho-therapy sessions, and a special diet designed by a renowned California nutritionist. (all in order to achieve/maintain optimal cow happiness). And this was also AFTER the waiter spent an additional 5 minutes listing the many special eastern spices that the steak would be rubbed down with before being grilled to perfection on a super-special grill that was shipped in from somewhere foreign, exotic, and also super-special. (which is why it was $50.00 - of course...who wouldn't want to pay $50.00 for a piece of meat with such a prestigious history?) This request also came AFTER I threatened to end his very existence if he even dared to MENTION A-1 steak sauce to the waiter. Yep. He STILL asked. He really did. And when they told him that they didn't have any, (because their steak is so good that no one has ever been insulting enough to even suggest smothering it in a grocery store sauce) he suggested that they run by their local Albertson's to pick some up for him. Yep. He really did. I am desperately in love with that manly man...so I decided to let him live. If my husband's out-of-control A-1 addiction is the most I have to complain about these days - then I guess that my life is pretty darn good...

and when I say "gone and done it again" what I really mean is "actually cooked a meal for my malnourished/neglected family" I'm so Betty sometimes. (Like, at least 10 times a year.)

So, while I was freezing my cookies off on the football field last Saturday, Bubbuh climbed up into my lap (because he's fairly certain that he's a chihuahua) and I decided to distract my freezy little self with a photo shoot. This is what I ended up with:

When I saw this picture, it made me especially happy because, for me, it is a perfect representation of how I've always seen him. When Ash and I first met Bubbuh at the shelter, we were immediately struck by the old-ness of his gigantic soul. He was so calm, and kind, and regal...it felt like he must have roamed the earth for a thousand years or more. This inner depth and dignity created a very severe contrast to his outer form which was starved, flea-bitten and covered with sores. It's funny, I didn't even NOTICE his sores and super skinny frame for the first 5 minutes of picture taking. All I noticed was his incredibly delightful disposition. It is the same for people who meet Bubbuh for the first time. Just this morning when we were out for a walk a girl stopped and said "Wow, what a beautiful dog." Now, as his nurse, I am VERY aware of every sore, every hair, and every health issue Bubbuh is currently facing - but when I'm around him, all I see/feel/sense/notice is his grace. I have been patiently awaiting the wonderful day when his sores are all healed, his hair (which was matted beyond repair) has grown in, and his ribs are nicely padded with a healthy coat of fat... for the day when his outer form will (at least somewhat) match his inner. That will be a glorious day indeed.

Oh the joys of mommy helper-ing...

Kortland's teacher asked me to volunteer in the class all day Thursday and all day Friday for
their Pilgrim and Indian days. Wow! That was exhausting (but also very fun). How do Kindergarten teachers do it? These are a few pics of him after we got home from "Indian Day."

A more appropriate title would have been

"100 * 200 * 300 little indians" - that's sure what it felt like anyway...

Kortlandisms of the week:
1. In his room playing Banjo Tooie: “Aw snap! I was almost there…”
2. Kortland, sitting in Sacrament Meeting draws a picture of "a vampire frog" and says:

“I’m quite the artist.”
3. In Primary, Kort’s class was asked to get up and draw a picture of “what it looks like serve someone” on the chalk board. Kort draws two stick figures (one of which is holding a tray) and turns to the whole Primary and says. “This is a picture of me at a restaurant serving someone!”

NOTES TO SELF:
1. Stop saying “Oh Snap.”
2. Turn Banjo Tooie off every now and then and read a book to your son for cryin' out loud.
3. Make greater effort to build your child’s self esteem; he’s clearly much too critical of himself.
4. Discuss service (the real kind) at the next F.H.E.
5. Stop eating out so much!

HIGHLIGHT OF MY WEEK:
I said the opening prayer in Sacrament Meeting today, and afterwards my friend (also named Laura) stopped me in the hall and said:
“I have to tell you the funniest thing that Evan (her four year old son) said to me in Sacrament Meeting! When you finished the prayer, he said: ‘Mom, look up there, that’s my singing teacher. Can we go home and make her on the Wii?’”

Baaaa ha ha ha ha ha! I guess there’s a game on the Wii where you can make/design different people. How funny! Kortland and I have missed church the last couple of weeks, and it feels good to know that someone missed me!