Merry Christmas, Happy Anniversity!

Well, I hope you all survived and didn't die of majorly gluttonous decisions like I almost did. It was quite the delicious holiday this year. Except that a couple of sad things happened. I'll get those out of the way first.

First, as I was attempting to fix the settings on my wee little camera, I accidentally wiped my memory card. Like, I lost all the pictures from the first day of our trip. Sad . . .

And I don't know if I saved all the pictures from the rest of December because of the second bit of sad news, which is that my computer is dying. I'm currently writing on Mike's computer. My computer is dying slow, sad, painful death, and I don't want to turn it on again until I have a hard drive or something to save all my music and pictures on just in case the thing dies suddenly in the night. *Sniff sniff*

So, electronically I've been having some grief. Literally, like mourning a death. But other that that I had a good time! We totally needed to get out of town, and it was amazing getting to spend time with Mike's whole family, even if there were 13 to the table.

We flew to Seattle Friday night before Christmas and Katie DEFINITELY loved it. She was busy the whole time trying to mess with the trays, looking out the window, and flirting with Uncle Brett behind us. It was ridiculous. Then she fell asleep as soon as we stuck her in her car seat to drive home from the airport, and didn't wake up until 7:30 the next morning.

We had a really good time not really doing anything all weekend and just playing games and relaxing and eating sugary things the neighbors dropped off. It was awesome. And it ended exactly how vacations are supposed to end: by not wanting to go home. But we did Monday night. And I can't really complain because the reason we didn't get a whole week of vacation is that Mike has a job and can support our family again. Sigh . . .

But we had a good time. We took family pictures, had a lovely relaxing Sunday morning Christmas, and played a lot of board games and word games. Also, Katie and her cousins are SO cute together. I can't even stand it.

Then, on Tuesday, we had our 3rd anniversary. Can you believe it? I can't. It's weird. We're practically OLDY WEDS. Ew. But we went to Olive Garden and actually ordered dessert and it was really fun. And Katie got to hang with her aunties and uncles. Not the Washington ones, though, because we were already home because Mike had to work. Sigh . . .

And that's about it. I'm not feeling particularly funny today. Oh! Yesterday afternoon after my eyeball appointment, my mom and I ran to the grocery store. When we went into the store, it was bright and sunshiny and I was having a hard time because my eyes were still really dilated. But when we came out, the sun was off in the distance and there was a storm front coming toward us of almost cartoon proportions! (I'm not kidding. The thing totally had a growly face on it.) It was coming faster than an airplane would and we had to run to our car so we wouldn't get hit by lightning. Other unsuspecting Albertson's customers were becoming casualties right and left! (yeah, I'm just kidding. I've probably been reading too much Calvin and Hobbes.)

Anyhow, we dashed home through pelting hail that was piling up in the gutters and almost looked like a foot of snow except it was snow that hurts. And you know what? By the time we got the groceries out of the car, it was just a light rain and the storm part had passed. Holy cow, can you say brush with death?

And now it's all sunshiny outside. Happy New Year!

Big news. BIG news.

No, I'm not pregnant. How dare you for thinking that anyhow? Geez . . .

Actually, we moved. (!!!!!) Yes, quite. To a cute little slice of house (i.e., townhouse) of which I have not taken any pictures yet except for those of Katie's eating utensil adventures. And those pretty much only show the high chair and some radiant light from my enormous sliding-glass door of a kitchen window. Muahaha. (I'll probably be convinced by my conscience that I need to post said utensil pictures, so they'll probably be at the end of this post. If I feel guilty enough.)

I do owe all of you an apology for neglecting my blog for the last several weeks, but I have not had internet in my new place until today. So, terribly sorry, dear friends. Because I know you've all been drooling over your computers for the last few weeks every day hoping to see a new post, and then been terribly disappointed.

Anyways, so we moved in on Saturday the 3rd, and my life ever since has been wholly consumed with diaper rash and what the heck is causing it. Our conclusion? Our water had all kinds of gunk in it and we needed to buy a new Brita filter, and also Katie is MAJORLY allergic to Boudreaux's Butt Paste (my mom won't say that word. I heard her not say it to my dad and he laughed.) Like, it made her poor little bummy blister. What the heck? How could you be so cruel to children?

Aside from the blisters, though, the change to our own apartment has been amazing. Let me explain. The #1 reason we were so anxious to get out of my parents' basement was so that Katie could have her own bedroom and leave us the heck alone. I was tired of waking up every morning with a fat lip and a black eye, and I know Mike was tired of getting kicked out of bed every night at 4 am. Quite literally.

So, almost as soon as we got here, we determined to teach Katie to sleep in her own bed. Which means that we decided on a bedtime routine and put it into effect, and Katie put herself to sleep while Mike let me sob on his shoulder. Oh no! I mean, um, while I stalwartly made her deal with things . . . um . . . yeah, okay. I bawled the first three nights.

But now! She does cry a little when I make her let me brush her two teeth, but after her story and all seven (four in English and three in Portuguese) verses of "I am a Child of God," she even lets me tuck her in, sighs a little bit and is asleep before I even get downstairs. And guess when her bedtime is? 8 or 8:30 pm. And guess when she wakes up? 8:30 or 9 am. HALLELUJAH!!!!

And now a few pictures of the last few weeks to make up for my not having internet.

Yes, that is bacon. Maple bacon cupcakes. I made them for my bro Parker because . . . (drum roll please) . . . he's an Eagle Scout! Congrats, man!

Preface to the next couple pictures: The other day, I was feeding Katie some yogurt, and she was starting to get really bored of it, so I assumed she was full. I left her in her chair to talk to me while I was putting up Christmas decorations, but I also unthinkingly left the half-full thing of yogurt on her tray. I turned around after a couple of nativities and saw this:

Yay! Learning to use a utensil! I thought it was very cute and got all excited because she was actually trying to spoon yogurt into her mouth like I had done. So I let her continue and got out the camera, naturally. After a few minutes, however, it went from cute little spoonfuls to outright frenzy.

Is yogurt a good exfoliant? Maybe so. But she had a good amount of fun. And then it got even better because I had to strip her naked and give her a bath to get the yogurt out of her eyelashes and out of her armpits. And I'm not exaggerating. At all. Then she got to wear a cute new pink outfit while she waited at the window for Daddy to get home from work.

And well, I had to put these pictures up. We went back to my parents' for dinner and discovered that they had Christmas-ified their house now that they didn't have a 1-year-old living with them to knock everything over. But it's okay, because Katie matched. (Please pay attention to the tights. I want somebody to find them in adult sizes so I can get some for me.)

I'm kinda loving life right now. The only big problem with living here? I don't have a single cup of powdered sugar with which to make delicious cupcakes and frosting because I haven't gone grocery shopping since our initial stock-up. Horrible thought.

Three steps, Two teeth, One supersonic-speed Autumn!

Do you guys realize that it's already Thanksgiving? And therefore almost wintertime? What the bananas?

Anyhow, happy November all you happy blog-followers! (I know that I posted in November already, but really, that was about Halloween. SO not the same thing.)

We have a few big items of business to share.

Number one: Katie has officially taken her first steps. It happened a couple weeks ago that she took two steps in the kitchen by herself (Abuelo-->Mommy) but besides that, she's been pretending like she's gonna walk and then proceeded to fall with style. It's really not the same thing.

But this last weekend, she started again, and took not one, not two, but THREE steps (Tio Parker-->Mommy) meaning that it's only a matter of seconds before she starts kindergarten, graduates high school, and then starts moving away and being a grown-up! (sniff, sniff)

Yeah, I'm freaking out a little bit right now.

Our next item of business is that this little booger baby of mine has also broken out TWO of her teeth in the last week. The two front bottom teeth, to be exact. It has been SO MUCH FUN. : \

Translation: the whole time she was teething she would NOT sleep in her bed, mommy. No way. So I spent the whole last week sitting in the rocking chair, waking up every time my head fell over uncomfortably because she would only sleep if I was holding her. So she was plenty rested. Me? Well, ask my brothers how many times I burst into hysterical tears because somebody was tapping their feet or something. Yeah.

And because I've been at the end of my rope, I've been letting her sleep in my bed. Translation: I'm never going to be able to sleep in my bed nice and comfortable EVER AGAIN. Yeah. I can't even teach her how to sleep properly because she's in our room. Slightly inconvenient at times.

On the good side, Mike has a job, we're not starving to death, and we sure as heck don't have any debt. We really have a lot to be thankful for. Want to hear a preliminary list?

The Savior, the temple, families, scriptures, prayer, family home evening, the earth, chocolate, diapers, toothpaste, dentists, the internet, spinach, cupcakes, boots, hats, scarves, sweaters, blogs, doctors, nurses, blankets, cribs, baby monitors, enchiladas, steak, pie, digital cameras, pianos, cellos, iPods, cellular telephones, cars, bikes, education, contact lenses, mascara, debit cards, deodorant, mattresses, Christmas, turkey, indoor plumbing, baby wipes, running water, gas stoves, sprinkles, oreos, m&ms, Ella Fitzgerald, Duke Ellington, grapes, airplanes, hairspray, shampoo, missionaries, staplers, jeans, slippers, the Red Sox, Disney, lasagna, Alexandre Dumas, printers, publishers, General Conference, ballet . . .

Bo Peep has found her sheep! or, Boy is Katie a party animal!

Yes, this is the post you've all been waiting for. Unfortunately, Katie just woke up. Hold on a while.

Okay! It is now three days later and my mom has agreed to distract Katie long enough for me to actually finish this blog. (So don't feel bad if the date says last Friday and you think you just forgot to check my blog. Because you didn't.) (Except I just discovered that it does say it's Monday. The new blogger is smarter than the last one.)

Happy a week after Halloween!!! This has been probably the best week we've had in a lot of months. Here's why.

FIRST - While we were hangin' with Amy and Jared, Mike got an email from our secret inside source at St. Luke's saying that there was going to be a job opening and that she had given her supervisor Mike's resume. The Thursday before Halloween, he had an interview. They really liked him and he thought all of his answers were good. Then, last Friday (the day I began this post even though it's Monday now) Mike got a voicemail from St. Luke's HR. Today he called them back because they didn't answer on Friday, and he's been hired!!!!! He gets to go in on Wednesday to kill some trees and get a physical and a drug test, and he starts NEXT MONDAY!!! WE HAVE A JOB!!!! BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!

SECOND - As many of you know, one of the reasons we still live with my parents is that shortly after coming to Boise, and right after we got off BYU's fantastic insurance, my dear husband got appendicitis and incurred a LOT of hospital bills. We paid off all the little ones, but it kind of wiped us out, so we had nothing left for the big fat hospital bill that made up most of our expenses. In our desperation, we applied for financial aid from the hospital, not expecting anything because we clicked 'no' on the "did you apply for medicaid?" question.

Then, the Saturday before Halloween, we got a letter telling us that we qualified for financial aid and that the hospital was waiving ALL of our debt. (!!!!!!!!!!!) We are out of debt. It almost feels surreal. I would put more capital letters and exclamation points but I don't think there are enough in my computer to express this adequately.

THIRD - well, frankly, it was Halloween. What could be better?

Happy Halloween! Hope you had as much of a sugar buzz hangover as we had!

Shhh! Secret Post!

Don't tell anybody, but I'm writing on my blog. On Gram's laptop in her kitchen. We're out here because Mike's sister Amy and her family came out to play with us and we needed a break also. But I'm secretly posting on my blog real quick.

Today I'm going to make these cupcakes:

http://mimis-kitchen.blogspot.com/2011/10/mummy-cupakes.html

Holy Monsters, I'm so excited! I already made some chocolate cupcakes (Katie's cousin, Spencer, says those are his favorite) and next we're gonna make some mummies.

Aren't you excited too?


ALSO: I just have discovered that this is my 200th BLOG POST!!! WOOOHOOOOO! To celebrate, I will now post one of the scariest pictures you could ever see in your entire life!

Are you ready?

I bet you weren't ready. I sure wasn't. But there it is.

Happy 200th blog post everybody!

It's raining, it's pouring, the Katie is snoring!

Well, actually, we all are snoring. I've heard I've got a rather impressive rumble myself. The point is that all this unnecessary and rather inconsiderate moisture has caused our family to be all full of  yucky congestion. Including the Katie. I mean, seriously.

Speaking of my crazy baby, I have a funny story. So, last night I had one of the creepiest dreams ever. It had to do with a hangman and cannibals and . . . um, let's stop talking about that.

Anyhow, Katie woke me up from that dream really early this morning, and I was mega mega mega creeped out. So I brought her in bed with me to feed her back to sleep, and I shook Mike awake and was like, "Mike, I had a creepy dream!" And of course, my sweet husband said, "mmm, grumble grumble, don't be scared," and proceeded to sleep some more.

Needless to say, that wasn't particularly comforting. So, I huddled in a ball, trembling in terror at the thought of creepy cannibals coming to eat me. Also, I couldn't put Katie back in her bed for fear that said cannibals would come take my sweet baby.

But there's a problem with that. Remember how I said that Katie likes my bed much better than hers? Well, I've never told you how she sleeps. See, when I put Katie in her crib, she sleeps pretty soundly and only turns over a couple of times. Unfortunately, when she gets in my bed, her true self comes out . . . Kung Fu Katie! (bwa bwa bwaaaaaaa!)

You guys remember Kung Fu Katie, don't you? From way back before Katie was even born? (Whoa, that was a long time ago.) Well, she's still a rather intimidating force. Especially with her ability to get all snuggly long enough for you to fall asleep, then suddenly simultaneously kick you in the esophagus and squish your head with her 20-pound diaper bum, all while doing her best imitation of a banshee. Rinse and repeat.

So . . . I didn't get very much sleep last night. My own fault? Yes. A rather entertaining story (now that it's daylight)? Also yes.

Once upon a dream!

I know there are a lot of people who do not let their children watch Disney movies, for a lot of different reasons. Some are against the company for supporting gays and lesbians, and some don't like the movies, because they support rebellion against parents and immodesty, or teach girls to be weak and rely on men. And even if I don't agree, I have nothing against the people who believe that. Their children, their decision.

I will say that I am fully a fan of Disney movies, and I had the entire script of The Little Mermaid memorized by the time I was 2. And in perfect pitch (which I don't have anymore. Well, close. But not perfect. Music is the one thing I know I can do.)

But I realized something the other day. Mike and Katie and I were having a staying-in night while everybody else was away at their various activities, and we decided to watch Sleeping Beauty because neither of us had seen it in a lot of years. And it was beautiful and classic and I quite enjoyed it. But I realized that the Disney movies I watched as a kid have really affected the kind of person that I am.

For example: my favorite Disney movies are The Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, Mulan, and Tangled. All the rebellious, strong-willed girls who (at least try to) stand up to the men around them. I don't know about you guys, but I'm not really a sit-back-and-watch-somebody-else-do-things kind of a person. Ask my freshman roommates how I felt about not having a career and getting married young and staying home with a bunch of babies (even if you all know that my views on that subject have since changed.)

But I also really like Sleeping Beauty and Cinderella. And they're the movies where the title character just put her head on her desk to cry and then got saved by a fairy godmother or handsome prince or both. My idea of what love should be like is rather old-fashioned, and I wonder if this is why. I think boys should ask girls on dates and open doors for them, and I think it's super romantic just when Mike kisses my hand.

And I think I've turned out pretty well, so I'm definitely going to let Katie watch movies about princesses.

Not to mention she's already seen The Little Mermaid and Tangled with me once or twice, so it's too late. Buaha.

Don't stop me now!

'Cause Katie sure is having a good time.

Well, it's official. She's crawling. Still sort of like a robot, and she really has a hard time on linoleum and tile with her little leggings on, but she's doing it. The other day, Sarah had a glass of water with ice (which Katie totally loves) and we decided to see how fast she was. Sarah gave her a sip, then put the water on the floor on the other side of the kitchen. Katie took, like, 3 1/2 seconds to get there. So Sarah would give her another sip and put it on the other side again. Etc.

It was minorly funny at several points because Katie has a tendency to fall on her face sometimes in her efforts to go too fast, especially on slippery floors, but still. When did my baby grow up so fast?

She kind of began it this weekend, when we went to visit Mike's sister Kliss and her husband, Brett. (Notice my skillful use of restrictive and nonrestrictive modifiers in that last sentence. It's all in the commas, man. All in the commas.) We went to their cute, well-decorated, non-expensive apartment and hung out this weekend. It was secretly supposed to be about dropping another sister off at college, but mostly it was not. We made sugar cookies, went on a walk, experienced church that was full of babies, and just hung out. It was so great! We really needed it to be able to de-stress and feel like real grown-ups for a while.

Unfortunately, I began to break the tenth commandment, as my dad would say. See, when we had our own apartment (ah, the good 'ole days!) it was both cinder block and way too expensive. Kliss's apartment is lovely drywall and is like half the rent than we used to pay. My jealousy is still raging.

Can you imagine? A dishwasher, a washer and dryer, and a stove that's big enough for a full-sized cookie sheet? Sigh . . .

Fuzzy Wuzzy wasn't Katie.

I've made a few observations about my baby recently.

The first has to do with a baby shower I attended last week. As most of the people attending were moms, there were also several babies in attendance. One such was baby Nora, who is only a month older than Katie, and we discovered that they have similar interests. They seemed to have trouble sharing the plush basketball, though there were lots of other toys, and they both seemed rather intent on gouging the other's eyes out. (It was slightly more of an ambition for my baby. Sorry, Nora.)

But most of all, I noticed a big difference between Katie and the other babies there. Including the two-week-old for whom the shower was being held. And it had much to do with the color of their hair.

Blondies are baldies.

It's true! The other babies there were all brunettes, and even the newest ones had a little tuft of hair that was at least close to ponytail worthy. Their luxurious locks would probably have been blowing in the wind had we not been in somebody's living room. But Katie, my little blonde angel baby, has a slight amount of fuzz that is nowhere near visible from any kind of distance.

And looking back at my ward in Provo, where we were surrounded by babies of all shapes and sizes, I realize that it is true! There were plenty of brunette babies who had more hair than me, and there were little blond babies who couldn't even work up a good solid bedhead until they were two! Oh man, it's a good thing the Katie lets me stick bows and flowers on her head.

Another observation I have made about my baby is that she is much bigger than I had planned on her being already. She's going to be eight months old on Sunday. Doesn't that freak you guys out? She's a big 'ole chub-a-lub baby. (Which is weird because she always used to be the skinniest kid around.)

Also, she would much rather walk than crawl. We've been painstakingly putting things she wants just far enough to make her try to crawl, but she always gets impatient and just scoots on her bum. I know she can crawl, but she refuses to do it. Walking, on the other hand, she thinks is the bees' knees. She's always pulling herself up to standing on whatever she can grab--bookshelves, the bar underneath my rocking chair, my pant leg, etc. And she thinks it's hilarious when I hold her hands and let her walk to somebody instead of just carrying her. I think we're not far from it.

Mike even had to move the crib mattress down so that she can't jump over the side because, oh boy, she is definitely tall enough to do it.

STOP GROWING UP SO FAST, BABY!!!

Don't Worry, Be Happy!

I shall now proceed to redeem myself by writing only happy and silly things. (I mean, seriously, that last post was so whiny. I'd be amazed if any of you come back after that. Prolly nobody's reading this because I drove you all away with my inconsiderate whiny-ness.) I'll even sprinkle some pictures periodically to make it better.

First of all, let me warn you. If you intend to invite us over to your house (though I don't know why you would invite me over when you're in danger of being whined at to death), you will need to batten down the hatches, as it were. Lock up your valuables. Hide your kids and wives. No, I was kidding about that last one. But they'll probably be drooled on.

Yep, you guessed it. The Katie has now become mobile. And teething. Yes, also teething. She scoots about the house on her bum (almost crawling but still just scooting), leaving wet objects that she has gnawed on in her wake.

My mom is gonna need to fix her cabinet locks and such.

Also, I have decided that one of the contributors to my whiny-ness is my rather lack of . . . um, health. So I started working out more frequently in the mornings. I lie on the floor looking ridiculous doing ab workouts while Katie sits in her crib laughing at me. Yes, she laughs at me. She seems to think that my meager attempt at muscles is funny. Silly child. I'm not the one with elbow dimples.

Another, ironically, has been the long stretch since I have made real-live, actual cupcakes. I made some "cupcakes" that were more like brownie bites last week, but that doesn't count. Also, they were not cute. Not at all. I didn't even pipe the frosting. Heck, I didn't even spread the frosting. Just dumped a chunk on with a knife. And it wasn't really frosting.

So I have decided to make some s'more cupcakes (hehe, get it?). So much that I have even dreamt about making them. Oh, boy, they were tasty in the dream world. They gonna be SO good in real life. Mmmmm mmmmm. (The picture is of some banana split cupcakes I made a while ago. They were definitely scrumptious.)

Right now Katie is wearing a green jumper with big white polka dots and she kinda looks like a Mario Brothers' mushroom. If Sam jumps on her, he'd get thirty points. I better not tell him.

It's my party and I'll cry if I want to!

First of all, let me say I'm sorry for being such a horrible person and making you wait seventeen years between blog posts. I'm a dreadful blog manager. It's just embarrassing.

Secondly, I've decided not to put up all of the pictures of my recent food adventures just yet because I've had many and this blog would quickly become not a witty--sometimes even snarky--blog about my delightful child and adventures, and become a food blog. All about cupcakes. With not words because as soon as I put up pictures of cupcakes I would decide that I needed a cupcake and go get my bakin' on in a serious way. And not write.

Maybe next time I'll do a catalog of recent cupcakes. And then ditch them on this blog forever. Or at least for a week.

Anyway, the inspiration for my title lyric is, well, Katie. The little poop has had quite the emotional week. And, dreadful as it is, I believe that it began with me. Horrible mommy that I am, I took her last Monday to get her shots. I know, I know, she's seven months old and I'm a total slacker, but now she won't get pertussis or pneumococcal meningitis or anything like that. Which is probably a good thing.

But then, she decided she was going to actually exhibit symptoms this time around. For all of her other shots, they told me the whole "she may have a slight fever and such and such and tylenol and blah blah blah call us blah blah blah." And I was like, whatevs. My baby is superwoman. So of course, she actually got kind of feverish and cranky and yelled at me when I touched her legs for the next few days. Totally blew me away.

And THEN, she stopped sleeping at all at night. Remember that one time how she stopped sleeping through the night this summer and hasn't taken more than three real naps for the last three months? Well, when she's feverish, it gets worse. I may never sleep again.

And don't let it fool you that she's on the floor behind me giggling and saying "bah bah bah da dla dla ga go go rara!" That's all totally a ruse. She's really a plotting little twerp who is secretly thinking "hehehe, what can I do now to make sure my mommy is never productive again? Buahahahaha!"

Also, this baby is never going to learn how to crawl or walk or anything if my siblings can help it. I guess that part I can wait for.

You wish it was your birthday so you could party too!

There is a tradition in my family that when we sing "Happy Birthday" to someone, we don't just sing "Happy Birthday." Oh no. We sing EVERY SINGLE birthday song ANY of us knows. This includes primary songs, songs we learned at school, songs they sing at scout camp, etc. So long as it's a birthday song. And the finale is always the upbeat version of "Happy Happy Birthday from All of Us to You!" from The Emperor's New Groove. Always. And we're banging our hands on the table while we sing it.

Well, there are several birthdays in the middle of July. So we have plenty of opportunity to exercise our cake-plate-shattering vocal skills. Beginning . . . with KATIE!!!!

July 14th is Bastille Day (kind of the French Independence Day. Kind of.) but this year it was also Katie's 6 month birthday! Which means I made some extremely delicious dark chocolate cupcakes with peanut butter frosting. And we sang half of each of our birthday songs to her. It was a little confusing and hilarious.

And then she had a carrot or some pears or something while the rest of us ate chocolate peanut butter cupcakes. I promised her that I would make her some delicious cupcakes for her real birthday in January and that she could eat one then. Because she'll be a big kid.

But not yet.

Well, as soon as Katie's birthday was done, we had another birthday. Mine! on Sunday. But I'm a grown-up, so it's not quite the same. Except that the triple chocolate pound cake with a chocolate drizzle that my sister made for me nearly set the house on fire.

And because this post is about the two of us, I guess I'll put up a picture of both of us. Grudgingly.

For Katie's birthday, she got . . . a carrot. Yeah, she gets presents all the time just for being cute, so it's not particularly exciting to have a birthday.

But I had quite an enjoyable day. I think the fact that my little inner Brittany desperately desires to be a baker has leaked. Because I got cake pans, mixing bowls, the book Hello Cupcake! and little glasses that really need to be filled with a dessert and taken a picture of for this blog. Yeah . . . I think they've figured it out. And I also think I should open a bakery or something as soon as Katie's big enough.

And because 1) this post is very much food themed, 2) birthdays are all about food, 3) my sister Emma and Mike's sister Amy are both having birthdays this week, and 4) I just want to make you all hungry, we're going to finish with pictures of the semisweet and white chocolate torte Sarah and I made a couple weeks ago. And also some pictures from my photo shoot entitled "The Many Faces of Katie Lou."

Because she's adorable.

Happy Birthday!

Having fun! Isn't hard! When you've got a library card!

See? I redeemed myself from the Beatles' drug song by singing Arthur. Because I'm cool enough to have the soundtrack to a PBS afternoon cartoon. Yup.

In this post, I plan to first list books that I plan to read this summer, then list books which I think everyone should read, then list books nobody should read, and finally make some snarky comments about English professors and/or "literature."

How was my thesis statement? Wow, I have written so many of those. You'd think this English major thing would get over soon or something . . .

Anyhow, books. Now that I am not reading six pieces of "literature" at once, I am reading for . . . (wait for it) . . . FUN! BUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! I HAVEN'T DONE THIS IN YEARS!!!!! BUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!

Sorry. Got a little bit Dogbert on you there.

In my excitement over getting to read fun books, I went and got a Boise Public Library card. It has Shakespeare on it (giggle giggle intellectual rebellion giggle). And so, I have a list of books that are recent (or not) which I have been unable to read because they were not intellectual enough (or they were and just weren't on my booklist). Here they are (in order of when I think I might read them).

1. Life of Pi by Yann Martel (started this one today. I'm quite excited.)
2. Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes (intellectual, but I've always wanted to. Sorry.)
3. Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen
4. The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd
5. Reading Lolita in Tehran by Azar Nafisi
6. Angela's Ashes by Frank McCourt
7. The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time by Mark Haddon
8. The Imperfectionists by Tom Rachman
9. Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen (I know, I have to do it sometime.)
10. The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie by Alan Bradley

Yeah. Still working on that list.

Here is my list of books I think you should read (in my professional opinion). (I mean, I do have a degree in English and editing after all.) (Buaha.) They are not necessarily in order of importance. I'll do my best to provide descriptions so you can decide. Also, I'm breaking all of the rules of formatting because the next two lists will not be simple and bulleted like the first one, because I like to talk about stuff. . . er, write about stuff.

#1 -The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas. I know you see it and think, "19th century fatness? No way, man." But really, Dumas is a master of carrying a plot. All of his books are totally filled with action and drama, and I love it so much. This is my favorite book in the world. And I'm not a weirdo who swoons over Dickens. I don't like him that much.*

#2 - The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows. Totally fun. An authoress in London after WWII gets a letter from a man on one of the channel islands that was occupied by the British and begins corresponding with all the people on the island about their experiences during the occupation. There are serious parts, but also ridiculously hilarious parts. It's extremely well-written and I love it. (Given me by Mike's mom, by the way. Genius gift, if you ask me.)

#3 - Harry Potter series by J. K. Rowling. I include all seven books in this because how can you get the whole Harry Potter experience by only reading one? Also, I don't want to write about each book individually. But I have to include them. If you remember, when the first Harry Potter books came out, everyone got excited because the books got kids reading again, which they hadn't done for a long time. Unfortunately, little Daniel, Emma, and Rupert came along and ruined that effect. Don't get me wrong, they're good movies, but if I hear "why would I read the book when I can watch the movie?" again, I might cry. They're good books. Read them. Read them now.

#4 - Percy Jackson and the Olympians by Rick Riordan. Sorry, another series. But Riordan is a fantastic writer. They changed the movie a lot and kind of ruined it for me, but the books are fantastic. Not only are Percy and his friends really lovable characters who have exciting and interesting adventures, but Riordan has the kind of sarcastic, dry voice that made me laugh out loud all the time. They're super books. But if you read them, don't start hating the guys who made the movie for ruining it. They have families to feed too, you know. They do their best.

#5 - The Princess Bride by William Goldman. You know how if a movie is based on a book it's 99.99% guaranteed that the book is still better? I know some who don't think that applies to The Princess Bride because the movie is so fantastic. But you know what? It's still true. Goldman is hilarious. Mike and I read it aloud the first summer we were married because he had never read it before and I think that's the strongest my abs have ever been.

#6 - Hamlet by William Shakespeare. I know what you're thinking. Hamlet is every schoolkid's nightmare. But you know something? Shakespeare invented a lot of the words that make up modern English, and Hamlet involved a lot of them. So many phrases you hear every day originated in Hamlet, such as "green-eyed monster" and "something rotten in the state of Denmark." There are lots more, probably even more familiar. And besides all this, it's an amazing story. You never know if Hamlet is entirely crazy or if he knows what he's doing. It's the murder mystery of the century. ALTHOUGH - because it's a play and was meant to be performed, I will approve if you watch the Kenneth Branagh movie adaptation. (Don't watch Mel Gibson because a) he's a horrible guy and b) he uses the whole Oedipal falling in love with his mother thing and that's disgusting.) (And if you don't know who Kenneth Branagh is, he was Gilderoy Lockhart. And also one of the best Shakespearean actors of this generation.)

#7 - Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe. I love this book. I think I read it in all the same classes where I read Heart of Darkness, but it's totally better. The main character is Okonkwo, a strong head of his family in pre-colonial Africa. You're never sure whether Okonkwo is good or bad, but it's such a good story that it's worth reading. Especially if you're like me - 100% white and have only heard the triumphant colonizer's side of the story. Try it sometime.

#8 - The Book of Mormon. See? This is the last one, but most definitely the most important. I'm willing to bet that because the only people who read this blog are related to me, you've probably already read it. But I'm going to put it on this list to remind you of how important it really is. Not only is it a literary masterpiece and a history of the people on the American continent 2,000 years ago, but it contains the fullness of the gospel of Jesus Christ. Joseph Smith said that "a man would get nearer to God by abiding by its precepts than by any other book."

*This is the asterisk that goes along with my negative and somewhat snarky comment about Dickens. I don't like him, but I do like Great Expectations. That is an experience I think everyone should have. But the rest of Dickens I could pass on.

And now, last but not least, the list of books you should never, ever, ever, ever read. And you should trust me on this.

#1 - Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad. I read this one in, like, four different classes. No, wait . . . yeah, I think it was four. Hateful book. It's dark, depressing, and racist. And it doesn't really teach you anything other than how dark and sad Africa was under Belgian rule in the 19th century.

#2 - The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larsson. I know this one is a super bestseller and all that, but don't listen to them. It's supposed to be about this journalist and a private investigator who solve a decades-old murder mystery, but all you see is people taking in harmful/illegal substances, swearing, and sexually abusing each other. That's it. I felt so dirty after the first couple chapters that I couldn't keep going. It was for a class, so I wikipedia'd the ending, and I'm glad I never finished. Keep away if you have any sense of morality.

#3 - The Famished Road by Ben Okri. I feel bad warning you against this one because my African Literature prof loved it so much. But it's so trippy it hurts. I even hated it and I like to think I'm rather intellectual in my tastes. It's about this kid in Nigeria during revolutions, and seeing everything through his child eyes, but it gets mega trippy with ghosts and orgies and flying white goddesses and weird stuff like that. Sorry, Dr. Eastley.

#4 - The Crying of Lot 49 by Thomas Pinchon. See the notes on numbers 2 and 3 together. It's about secret societies and is all mega-poststructural and '60's and whatever, but it's just as depraved as Larsson's novel (except insert promiscuity instead of abuse). Blegh.

#5 - Oedipus by Seneca. This is not the Greek version by Sophocles, which is gracefully written and is worth reading so you understand references to it and the basis for a lot of our literature. The roman version by Seneca, however, was written in a time when Emperor Nero would have actors brutally killed on stage (not special effects - for real) because gore was so entertaining. Oedipus stabs his eyes out right in front of you and his poor mother/wife kills herself with a lot of groaning and disgustingness. Blegh.

Looking back, I'm glad that I can only think of five off the top of my head that you should steer clear of. I almost put Twilight to the list because it has ruined literature and the real-live relationships of so many young women (not to mention the career of whatever editor that was because there are so many typos and editing mistakes that it physically hurt me). But I didn't. Feel free to read it, so long as you are reading.

Anyhow, thanks for reading Brittany's rant on the world of literature. In case you notice, there aren't many books I've recommended which have come out more recently than twenty years ago. That's because I'm not familiar with modern literature (hence my booklist). But if you were to ask me what literature from this generation would end up in English classes in twenty or thirty years, I would probably say Harry Potter. It's not just popular. It's clever, exciting, and very well-written. Read it now.

Holy cow, guys. Did you live through all of that? Geez, I'm starting to sound like an English professor. Those guys LOVE to hear themselves talk. I mean seriously, have you ever heard of an English class where you got out early? No. Because they don't exist. You get out late. Always. But you have to love those guys. They're the only Democrats at BYU.

Hehe. Was that snarky enough? Happy summer reading!

'Cause I'm going to . . . Strawberry Fields Forever . . . and ever.

Sorry, guys. The most appropriate song lyric this week is one of the Beatles' most trippy songs. I suppose you'll forgive me. It's just too appropriate.

BUT FIRST! The winner of last week's "guess what song lyric that was" competition is . . . me! It's from Ingrid Michaelson's "You and I," which is a very cute song. The runner up was EXTREMELY close, though. But the lyric from Sonny and Cher's "I got you babe" is "They say our love won't pay the rent." See? Basically the same thing. So maybe you win too anyhow. And you win . . . another blog post from me. Aren't you excited?

Anyhow, down to the latest hooplah and hulabaloo in my life. (Those two words are fantastic. Whoever coined them should get a monument. I bet it was Shakespeare. He invented most of English, after all. I guess I'll just have to . . . well, visit the monument that already exists. Stratford-upon-Avon, here I come!)

(I'm just kidding. I'm WAY too poor to go to England.)

Last Wednesday, tragedy struck. My grandmother, bless her, came to our home in the dark of the early morning, and kidnapped my poor, unsuspecting mother and two of my poor, unsuspecting sisters, and stole them away across the whole entire country. Okay, fine. My mother and Sarah and Emma knew they had a trip to Washington, DC, and were very excited about it. They left me alone with a house full of boys for a whole week all by myself. (Katie doesn't talk and Hannah was at work or the singles ward. Geez.)

Yeah, they look all studly. That's because Mom was there for this picture to comb their hair. There are several things I have learned from this experience:

• The horrendous experience that is deciding what to make for dinner is nothing to the torturous experience that comes with having to feed people who have opinions about food.
• It is much easier to keep the house clean when you just banish two little kids outside than when there are eight people at home every day.
• Boys don't like salad until you force them to eat it (using starvation tactics) (and threatening).
• HOLY COW I'M SO GLAD THAT KATIE WAS MY FIRST CHILD. I NEED FEMININE INTERACTION.
• Trying to talk to me after a week of just being with the boys is similar to trying to hold a sentient conversation with me at four thirty in the morning when I've been awake for thirty hours straight and have read something ridiculous like Chaucer recently.
• I really dislike video games.

Yeah, I don't really need to expound upon that. At least I had Katie to keep them all in line.

When the girls returned on Tuesday late afternoon, there was hysteria. Everyone kind of had a freak out. It's better now.

But alas, here comes . . . the INVASION OF THE STRAWBERRIES!!!!! GAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!

Yeah, this is what our house looks like. If any more come, we might actually turn into strawberry people ourselves.

I think my arms have been permanently stained red from topping the strawberries and turning them into jam. Also my pants. But that's not nearly as difficult as stirring the boiling pot, which makes the entire skin of your arm melt and peel off like rubber, and then you start to weep with the sheer heat of the room. It's disgusting.

Yeah, we're gonna have to eat like a gajillion peanut butter sandwiches. Good thing I've rediscovered recently that I love to have about an inch of crunchy peanut butter per sandwich. That stuff is so delicious it almost hurts.

But we've got our love to pay the bills!

If you recognize what song that comes from, you get seventy-two points. And also a digital high-five from me. I will tell you what song that comes from next time.

So, we got some more bills for Mike's hospital adventure, and we might be living with our families for the next seventeen years. But whatev. We've already had our initial freak out, so I'm at peace with it. Namaste.

In other news, that illness that I mentioned last time was not a one-day thing. It lasted ALL WEEK. And I'm STILL sick. Well, not as bad. The fever lasted a couple more days after I wrote that post and I've had a sinus headache and furiously running nose ever since. It's disgusting. Katie had it pretty bad too, and we've been sickies together. I actually got really excited today because she sounds like normal again--and by that I mean she sounds like slowly letting the air out of a balloon.

We had a fantastic weekend. Thursday, Mike's sister Amy and her family came up and hung out with us until Sunday night, meaning that Katie met all of her cousins (Amy has three kids) (and they are the only cousins Katie has). Oh my goodness they were cute!

I'm not allowed to put pictures of the two younger ones up because they're still foster kids, and it wouldn't be fair to put up a picture of Spencer without them, but I might do it anyhow.

Okay, never mind. My parents' computer hates my SD card, so there are no pictures. Maybe next time.

Anyhow, the cousins were really cute. Like, ridiculously so. And it was really fun to hang out with Amy and Jared. We spent all weekend playing games and getting greeted by people in Mike's parents' ward whom we don't know but who seem to know exactly who we are. They were the same people who got mad at Mike the Sunday before because he dared to come to church without his cute wife and baby for everyone to see. (Katie and I were deathly ill that week) (but we did not die, so the illness is no longer described as deathly).

In more other news, I no longer have confidence in myself as a baker. See, when we were in Portland, we went to Powell's Books, a used and new bookstore the size of a city block. Like, they give you a map when you get there so you don't get lost for fourteen years. And I bought a recipe book devoted entirely to chocolate. It's beautiful.

And today Sarah and I ventured into the book to make one of the easier recipes, chocolate slab cake. We figured it would be delicious and thick, like Texas Sheet Cake. Unfortunately, there were a few . . . um . . . setbacks.

So, we put the cake in the oven, cleaned up the kitchen so that our mess wasn't huge, then put some chocolate on the stove to make the icing. Before we finished that, we heard the buzzer, pulled the cake out, and stuck a toothpick in . . .

. . . and realized that we had never turned on the oven. When we opened the oven, Sarah was like, "whoa, it looks exactly like it did when we put it in." Including the spreading from the spatula. 'Cause the oven was cold. Embarrassing.

So we turned on the oven, waited for it to preheat and set the timer for slightly less than the timer said. A little while later, I made the icing, and then we pulled the cake out. After it was cool, we turned it out and poured the icing on it.

The icing was delicious, semisweet and melty. The cake . . . well, we may have forgotten some water or something, because it was very, very, very dry. And slightly burnt because we kept the cake in there while preheating. Gross. I feel very embarrassed.

Sometime later this week we're going to make a white chocolate torte. Hopefully it will be much more delicious. Especially because I'm not particularly a fan of buttermilk cakes and the white chocolate one will not be a buttermilk cake.

Maybe I'll make it if Mike gets one of the many jobs he's supposed to be applying to. He's already applied to a few at St. Luke's and St. Alphonsus hospitals. We're crossing our fingers.

It's like rai-ee-ain on your wedding day . . .

You know the funniest part? (And I mean besides how much I truly hate the music of Alanis Morisette?) NOTHING IN THAT SONG IS ACTUALLY IRONIC. It's just inconvenient.

What is slightly ironic, however, is the last few days for us. Oh gracious.

See, there's this thing called my dear, sweet husband has a talent for getting sick any time we plan a vacation or anything fun at all. The poor thing can't help it. But, as you might expect, I do get a little bit frustrated. I mean, the first time he ever met my family was when he came up to Boise for my birthday while we were dating. And he spent the entire day in bed deathly ill. Happy birthday to me.

Want another example? So, I had mono the semester we were engaged. Pretty sure I got it from Mike because he was sick all summer and guess who I was kissin'? I got really sick during finals week before we got married, but I was miraculously better the week before the wedding. It was a beautiful day, we felt all wonderful and married and such, and we drove to Portland the next day for our honeymoon. (So we're cheapskates. So what?) And then we proceeded to spend the entirety of our honeymoon watching movies in our hotel because Mike was too sick to do anything.

Well, get ready for HOUSEGUEST HORROR STORIES! That's right, don't invite us to your house for extended periods of time, because you might end up paying for our funerals.

Remember that one time how Mike got appendicitis right after we got to my parents' house for a break? And I spent two weeks run ragged between him and Katie and all of the hulabaloo that comes with my family?

Well, this last Saturday night, we went with Mike's family (Oh! We're in Seattle now! I forgot to tell yous guys.) to see a ballroom dance show (would have been fantastic if they hadn't had the bass up so loud) and there were these old ladies sitting in front of us who smelled really bad. During intermission they went out and smoked, and came back smelling even worse. Then they proceeded to fan that nasty smoke smell back at us the whole rest of the show. Gross. I was coughing a lot.

That night, we were joking that it would serve me right to get sick on vacation after being frustrated at Mike for getting sick all the time. Oh, how naive we were.

Sunday morning when Mike's alarm went off to get up for church, I was about to die. Turns out I had a fever, the chills and shakes, and my throat was super dry. I spent the whole entire day in bed or on the couch in my pajamas. Gross.

Today my fever's gone and I can move slightly more, but I have a really bad cold and so does Katie. We're like the coughing choir. It's pretty great.

Just pray that Mike doesn't get it. And don't invite us to your house.

Here it goes, here it goes again!

Hmm. Maybe I should keep using song lyrics as post titles. Would that make me more popular? I think so.

Well, we've begun again. As of 7:30 this morning, we are currently undergoing the process of medical school applications again. Except this time, we know (kind of) what we're doing. So it's going to work this time. Mostly because a lot of schools do rolling admissions and Mike didn't get everything in until like September last year. And this time he submitted the instant he was allowed to. It's kind of like staying up until midnight to register for classes. OH WAIT: I NEVER HAVE TO DO THAT AGAIN! BUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! Ahem. Sorry. Must have just slipped out.

Anyhow, this time we decided to follow the spirit and how much chance Mike has of getting in instead of by weather patterns. Last year it was, "No, I'm allergic to the South" or, "I WILL NOT live in hurricaneville!" Yeah, can you tell where I didn't want to live? No offense to any southerners who may or may not read my blog. :)

In other news, Mike is a normal person again, Hannah graduated from high school, and we're going to drive for a lot of hours tomorrow. First to Portland and then on to Seattle! and humidity. Yippie. I love the people there, just not the . . . gross . . . misty . . . grossness.

I don't know who's sadder for us to be leaving, grandma or the tres tios favoritos. Those guys are so cute with how much they love the Katie. I mean, how many fourteen-year-old guys want to spend their free time hanging out with their 4-month-old niece? Seriously. And James is constantly following me around asking if it's his turn to hold her yet. Luckily, she's old enough that she's started having separation anxiety and requires her mommy sometimes.

I've decided that before I die, I will be good at the guitar like Parker is. And maybe the ukulele like Sarah and Emma. And then I will be able to sing Ingrid Michaelson's "You and I" and be really cool. But perhaps I should re-pick up the cello first. Good idea? I think so. Wow, that paragraph was random and out of place. I'm sorry, guys.

There are too many pictures that I want to put up to include them here. If you're not on facebook, send me an email or something and I'll give you the link to get to the most recent photo album. Happy June!

Emergency rooms! Surgery! Hospital gowns! What fun!

Can you tell I had a really great week? Because I totally did. It's awesome. And so as to allay any fears or curiosity, I shall tell the whole story.

When Mike and I graduated, and BYU officially told us we were not insured on the student health plan, we just got temporary health insurance (the cheap kind) because we anticipated that if Mike got job in a hospital or something, he'd have benefits. Well, our timing was perfect.

Mike went to work like normal a week ago Tuesday, and was looking forward to helping with hoof-trimming the cows. Unfortunately, around noon he was desperately ill. He came home and spent the night in a ridiculous amount of pain. He got a blessing that said Katie and I wouldn't get sick, but that was the only comfort he had.

The next morning, Mike staggered to the top of the stairs and across the living room, only to collapse on the couch hugging a barf bag. I think that was the worst I have ever seen my husband. We decided he needed a doctor.

So we left Katie with my mom and I drove Mike to the ER. He did NOT enjoy the ride. Every bump made him cringe and it wasn't long before carsickness added to the fun. Oh, boy.

Luckily, abdominal pain is one of the big ones. When we got there and Mike said "it hurts here," pointing to his lower right abdomen, they were all over that and got him into a room really fast. A couple minutes later they gave him an IV (he was so dehydrated it was adding to his nausea) and a dose of morphine and zofran (the nausea medication they give to really sick pregnant ladies - me - and chemo patients). With all the drugs and fluid, he started getting kinda woozy and said "I feel good . . ." It was a lot funny.

The best part I think was that when my mom told my dad where we were, he skipped out of work to come be with us. See, my dad has the ability to calm down any situation. He's super easy-going and loves to schmooze (and I mean LOVES) so it was easy to relax and think of it as an adventure instead of a chance that my husband could DIE. And yes, I was thinking that until my dad showed up and started asking doctors if Mike would be able to watch any surgical procedures or get a DVD. Gross.

Anyhow, my mom still had Katie. And because the squirt isn't big into solid food yet, mom brought her to the hospital to eat. So while Mike was getting CAT scanned, I went out in the lobby and fed the Katie. While I was there, this lady came in clutching her throat and yelling about chemical wash. All the nurses and attendants seemed a little exasperated and called security. They ended up taking her into the hospital, but she was accompanied by a security guy and my dad heard them say something about that being her 19th visit. Can you say crazy? Yeah. I never want to work there.

Anyhow, when I got back (with a snack! yay!) the doctor told us that the scan said definitely appendicitis, but that his case was weird. He said usually you start feeling the pain first and then the nausea comes as your body goes into shock, but Mike started puking first and cramping later. Weird. Either way, it was super awesome because it was something they knew they could fix for sure, and that's what we wanted.

So they told us when the on-call surgeon was coming and the admitting nurse came in to get all of our information. She was funny. She was Romanian, but she also spoke English, French, Italian, and Spanish. It was cool. When my dad said something about the baby still being in the lobby, she got all excited and went out to see her as soon as Mike's (computerized) paperwork was done. It was cute.

We expected to have to wait for the surgery, since it's all about logistics, but they all-of-a-sudden told us they were taking him upstairs to pre-op. It was kind of frantic for me, let me tell you. But the pre-0p nurse was hilarious. She was this tiny old lady who was constantly talking and moving around, and you could tell she was the one in charge, because anybody who messed up her cupboards full of heated blankets or anything got a talking to. It was funny.

The surgeon and anesthesiologists and their respective assistants came in, and every single one asked the exact same questions (to me, not to Mike): what's his birthdate? Is he allergic to any medications? Has he had any surgeries before? How did he react to those? Luckily, I had heard him answer those ninety times before in the ER so I knew how to answer.

Soon enough, they plugged something into his IV, and the anesthetist and I watched him go under while the nurse was still chatting about her arthritic hand. They then shooed me out to the waiting room where I read a book for a couple hours, then took my overconfident husband home.

Yeah. We got to the hospital around noon and we were out by 8pm. I'm serious. My dad's STILL geeking out about it.

So, he had a weekend of Jello and movies because he couldn't move his abs at all, focus on anything because of his pain meds, or eat solid food without getting nauseous again. Luckily he started wearing daytime clothes again yesterday, and has left the house a couple of times. He came with us to the baseball game and Emma's band concert tonight, and hasn't started writhing in pain just yet. That's a good sign, I suppose. :)

If that's moving up, then I'm moving out!

Oh, Billy Joel, I wish my husband didn't get tired of you so quickly on road trips.

Well, it's official. We are HOMELESS (being defined as without a home) (because living with my parents doesn't strictly count). I should probably get a cardboard sign and hang out on the median at a major intersection. If I brought Katie, we could make BANK.

The following photo is very important, as it was the second-to-last photo taken at our old apartment. (The very last photo is not going to be disclosed on account of I'm making a weird face.)




This is the very large truck and trailor my dad drove down to help us. When we were on the phone, we were picturing a very extra large trailor, and my dad didn't think we'd be able to fill it up at all with our stuff. Well, it's full to the back, and we had to stick our couch in the bed of the truck (the poor old thing is in the Utah County landfill now).



Katie, on the whole, was rather patient with her poor parents over the several days of homelessness and driving. (Ps- Kudos to awesome cousin Josh who let us have his room the night after we moved out and had no home. Love you, Josh.) But I will say that by the end of the 8 1/2-hour drive to Boise (we had to stop a lot for gas for the truck and food for the Katie) she was slightly tired of her car seat.

And so begins the adventure.

STAY TUNED for part two of the "what the heck are the Morgans going to do with their lives" series!

Buckle in your kids!

Or else they will escape.

Graduation! (Holy cow!)

Oh, April. I thought you would never come.

But, fortunately, you did. And I graduated. Probably 3rd down on the "coolest things I've ever done" list. (1st and 2nd are marrying Mike and having a Katie.)

You know what's especially funny? Mike did this "running start" thing where he went to community college concurrent enrollment instead of his junior and senior years of high school, so he'd never been to a graduation ceremony before (9th grade commencement doesn't count). So he was super funny about all the rules and the ceremony and the goofy outfits and everything. It was great.

Several things I noted during this big 'ole graduation situation.

#1 - Most parents of new college graduates are almost as bad of drivers as women's conference participants. No offense to either of you. You just make my life horrible with your driving because I live on campus.

#2 - Leis somehow became a BYU graduation tradition. How did a bunch of landlocked white kids get this way? Oh, wait. Most of our football team is Polynesian. Their fault? We'll find out.

#3 - I saw only one person during the entire weekend who got the white collar thing right that they give to girls to wear. And I don't know how she did it.

#4 - When they say "wear a low heel," first of all, people don't listen. Second, they aren't kidding. I hate wearing heels in that ridiculous Marriott Center. The seats and stairs there give me vertigo.

#5 - No matter how inconvenient some people were during the weekend, it was fantastic. I really accomplished something tangible and real, that I can show people and that really means something. I did it.

Three levels of adulthood I have achieved:

Find a spouse? Check.

Be a parent? Check.

Get a college degree? Awesomely, amazingly check.

Yup, I'm a grown-up now.

Better than American Idol!

Welcome to The Cutest Baby Ever and her Daddy. Here is their rendition of "I'm a Child of God." Be prepared to be overwhelmed with cuteness.

Now try to tell me she's not the cutest thing that ever happened. She sings along all the time when we're singing, but especially primary songs, and especially that one. She loves it.

COMING SOON TO MY BLOG: Ever had trouble getting your baby onto a sleeping schedule that didn't make you feel like a zombie? Hey, me too! Get ready, because I'm having a "tell me how to make my baby sleep" contest. There will even be prizes. So get your commenting fingers ready for next time. (Are you excited? So am I!)

Tribute to the Food Bloggers

I know what you're thinking. I only ever write about my baby. Well, news flash: I'm 24/7 around my baby. It's true. Well, for the last week it's true.

But today I have something else I'm going to write about. And also my baby. Two food things and one baby thing. Good compromise? I think so.

Food thing #1: My tribute to those who can make (and take nice pictures of) pretty food. Because I can't. This weekend I got all domestic, making cinnamon rolls for conference and then various other new recipes I found in my cabinet full of never-used recipes. (It's not that I don't like them. It's just that using a real recipe means buying real ingredients and then really standing over a real stove for like an hour. I'm not into that very often.) Apparently I wanted to stand over a real stove all weekend. And I made very tasty food.

But it was not pretty.

Not pretty at all.

For example, stuffed shells (tasty, but really ugly):

Or this marble cake I attempted to make:

Which actually looked like this:

Yeah. I'm good at tasty food. But not pretty food.

Food Item #2: Concerning Mike's irrational fear of cloves.

Sunday night I was making a lunch for Mike to take to work the next day, and it required my going back to our food storage for a new jar of jam. Whilst I was there, I yelled to Mike, "Hey, I forgot about this jar of apple butter. We should try it sometime." He said something about "Yeah, maybe." And I suggested he put it on his toast sometime.

Well, I guess he was hungry enough (which is fair when we have dinner at like 5) that he decided to try it right then and there. He was holding Katie when the toast popped, so I opened the jar to put it on the toast. And we smelled it.

Before I go on, you should know something about my husband. Most of the time, when I'm cooking and use any kind of spice, all Mike thinks is, "Huh, that smells good." He has no idea what it is that smells good. But if in any circumstances something has cloves in it, Mike will know the instant he smells it. And when it does, he somehow magnifies his sense of smell to know it across the room. And he hates it.

So when we smelled the cloves in the apple butter, he almost chickened out. I managed to talk him back into eating it, and when he did, the first thing he said was, "It tastes like Christmas!"

But he only made it through one piece of toast and got rid of the other. Silly boy.

Baby item: It seems the Katie is going to take after her mama. And by that I mean, never stop talking and sing all the time.

Seriously! About a week ago (maybe a week and half), Katie was lying on her changing table and just started talking to us. Now, when ever she is happy, she just starts talking and cooing. It's the best thing in the entire world!

It's a little bit funny sometimes because she'll start talking to us with this seriously concerned look on her face, like she's saying, "Mommy, there are few issues I think you should be aware of. For example, you never let Daddy feed me chocolate . . ."

Also, she loves to sing along whenever somebody else is singing. During conference (when she managed to stay awake) she cooed along with the choir. Whenever I sit and play the piano and we sing hymns together, she joins in.

We've discovered her favorite song is "I am a Child of God." Regardless of her state of fussiness, she will at least calm down and will probably start cooing along. Seriously. If you're ever with us, try it sometime. It's the cutest thing you've ever seen.

But we have yet to get her to sing along on camera.

This video happened last week, when I managed to go to class after my deathly illness (don't worry, I'm better now). Mike and Katie came home and she told him all about our day. I hope she didn't say anything to embarrass me.