#4 I am grateful for. . .

Cinderella

Wasn't that stepmother just awesome?

#3 I am grateful for. . .

Boyz II Men
Because without them, I may have never seen this.

And to finish it out:

#2 I am grateful for. . .

I still get a kick every time I see this photo. Is that really my dad? Where is his mustache?

. . .my dad, more commonly known as "The Poppy" (at least since 2004 when grandchildren entered the world).

I had a whole post about my mom, so it's only fair that I mention my dad, right? Bad things might happen. . .

But honestly, The Poppy is a great dad. He is very snuggly and affectionate. It's hard to ever doubt that he loves us, because he has a habit of declaring it to the world.

At one time I just thought everyone had great dads and that my dad was no exception. People are always complaining about their moms, but bad dads are rarely mentioned on Oprah, so I just assumed that dads are pretty run-of-the-mill good.

Then one day, while I was of high-school age, I was hanging out in my basement with a friend. My dad came down and with a booming voice called:

"Annie-banannie! You knock my socks down. Have I told you how much I love you today?"

"No, Dad."

"I love you THIS much! Have I told you how gorgeous you are?"

"No, Dad." (starting to get embarassed)

"You are GOR-GEE-OSO!"

"Thanks, Dad." (ok, you can leave now, dad)


After he left, my friend turned to me and said, "Your Dad tells you that your gorgeous?"

I said, "Yeah, he that all the time."

Then she replied, "I don't think my dad has ever told me that I'm beautiful."

Whaaaa? Note to dads everywhere: tell your daughters that they are beautiful. Everyday.

Thanks, Dad. I love you, too.

P.S. To all my siblings: Lest you think I am shamlessly sucking up, attempting to steal your favorite-child status, I invite you to guest blog in this here bloggy-blog. Send me an email in honor of Thanksgiving week (sucking up as much or as little as you like), and I'll post what you have to say.

P.S.S. To my parents: You see that I have given everybody else a chance. If they don't post, you will know that they are not grateful and that I deserve to be the favorite child. Feel free to shower me with praise and gifts and money.

So speaking of my mom. . .

. . . I really like talking to her on Skype.

I had known for two weeks that I was supposed to give a 10 minute talk in church this morning. But since procrastination is my greatest talent, I was able to not even start on it until last night. I ran out of reasons to not work on it after my kids went to bed, and then I saw that my mom was online. Saved! We talked for 2 hours.

As a result, I started writing my talk around midnight (I was able to do an hour of very necessary websurfing after the very necessary chat with madre and only then started the dreaded assignment).

As a result, I suffered serious sleep deprivation

UPDATE: This post was waaay to weird. Everytime I read it, I get embarrassed, so I am cutting the crazy parts (most of it). Forgive me


(Emron has been reading this and says that I'm off the reservation.)

That's when I know. The voices are the reaper coming after me. I crawl into bed, but the brain tumor won't let me sleep. All I can think about is how funny my blog will be tomorrow. . .at least my mom will think it's funny.

#1 I am grateful for. . .

My mom.
This is a really good picture of my mom. Usually she makes a "deer in headlights" face when people take her picture, and destroys the film afterwards. I'm starting to do that, too, lately. Emron calls it my "mom" face. I can't help it. I blame my ancestors.

"Mother, who willingly made that personal journey into the valley of the shadow of death to give us birth, deserves our undying gratitude. One writer summed up our love for mother when he declared, 'God could not be everywhere, and so He gave us mothers.'

"While on the cruel cross of Calvary, suffering intense pain and anguish, Jesus 'saw his mother, and the disciple standing by, whom he loved, he saith unto his mother, Woman, behold thy son! Then saith he to the disciple, Behold thy mother!' (John 19:26-27.) What a divine example of gratitude and love!"


--Thomas S. Monson, "An Attitude of Gratitude," Ensign, Feb. 2000, 4

I love my mom.

I don't think there is any fancier way of saying that. I think we all love our moms in our heart of hearts. Deep inside, there is a bond that cannot be broken, no matter how stubborn we are. Our kinship to our mothers is written in stone and once we realize that, our relationships can be much more fulfilling.

Sure, moms make mistakes. I have. My mom has. Your mom has. But that doesn't change the complete and utter adoration I have for my children. And it doesn't change my mom's love for me either.

If only there was a way for me to go back in time, having already experienced the love I feel as a mother, and convince my teenage self of this total devotion that my mom has for me and each of her children. It's too bad that you don't really get it until you are a mom, yourself. I would have appreciated her a little more.

I would have respected her a little more.

"The moment a child is born, the mother is also born. She never existed before. The woman existed, but the mother, never. A mother is something absolutely new." ~Rajneesh

The happiest day of my life was the day I became a mother. . . I've had two of those days so far. And I never knew I was capable of feeling like this about anyone or anything. That's what mothers do--they love beyond explanation.

Thanks, Mom, you know for risking your life to give birth, cleaning up my poop, making me do my homework and eat onions, and sitting next to the vomit bag all those times I was sick. Thanks for giving everything you had so that my life could be better.

Look for him when you come to visit me

"The Terminal 2"

Hey, maybe if you spot him, it will almost be like you saw Tom Hanks. . . sort of.

Quantum of Hotness

I saw it.

I enjoyed it.

Not so much for the storyline (a bit convoluted, yet too simple, and too dependent on the last film).

But more for the eye candy. (Emron is fully aware that Daniel Craig is 2nd place *a distant 2nd, to be clear* in my spectrum of nice men to look at).

Yes, it was nice.

But Thursday nights (sometimes Fridays) when my man gets home are even nicer.
.

AGHHHH!

My lips are dangerously chapped at the moment. I had a nasty fever earlier this week, and these cracked smackers are my souvenirs. I am drinking tons of water (and peeing every 5 minutes), but it's not gettin' er done. SOS, Mayday, etc.

And just to clarify, no, that is not sexy me in the above photo. (nosehair clippers, anyone?)

Today's Good Stuff

1. After we could hear Sarah singing "I am a child of God" from the front of the chapel all the way in the back row, Wendy clapped her hands and said, "Yay. Bravo, Sah."

2. Getting a hug from Emo after a 3 hour nap, hair disheveled, mascara smeared and all. For some reason, I really needed that.

I also love you

I love you

It really turns me on that I can turn you off without getting out of bed.

This literally happened too close to home

Mexico interior minister dies in airplane crash

I happened to be on our balcony and saw the plane coming down, and thought, "wow, that plane is landing a little too fast. . . and a little too close. . . is that normal? I wonder how the people on board are feeling about that. . . I know I would probably get airsickness . . . Isn't the airport over where all the other planes are landing?" But a fight between Sarah and Wendy called me back inside before I could follow the plane all the way down. A few minutes later I went back out with Sarah and pointed out that something must be on fire, because there was a big cloud of black smoke that you could see even in the night sky.

It didn't even occur to me that the plane was crashing (but it was totally obvious in retrospect, duh). Then Emron called to make sure I was OK. The plane crashed on a road that is a main conduit between where we live and other neighborhoods we frequent.

The article says officials claim it appears to have been an accident, but the rumor in town is that the drug cartels shot down the plane because of who was on it. . . maybe conspiracy theorists on a heyday, but either way it is pretty scary to have a plane crash in the middle of rush hour. If Emron were working in town (and not in New York), he could have been on that very road, on his way home. Planes crashing into major cities is too reminiscent of that dark day in September of 2001. It brings a flood of feelings. My thoughts and prayers go out to the families who lost loved ones so unexpectedly.

The Obligatory Halloween Post

This post is specifically for my dad, who requested some Halloween pics. The girls got to wear two costumes; one for the Church party and one for the school party. After it was all over, Wendy couldn't accept the fact that the era of sweet sugary abundance was gone and tried desperately to bring it back. We caught her whipping up a costume of her own:


Cookie monster? Smurf? Frost-bitten Antarctica scientist? This is what happens when Sarah leaves her paints out.

Halloween Party at school.

Witches and pumpkins are a popular choice here in Mexico, but I think Ballerinas have more fun. . . and they're just prettier, right?

On a break between costumes. It's hard to believe that we don't see these ears when her hair is down :)

Costumes #2.

Got some good American candy from the church Trunk-o-Treat.

We played a donut game. The only rule was that you couldn't use your hands.

Rules don't apply to Wendy.

Happy Halloween!
(I'm glad we won't do this again for another year. I used to think it was really cute. Then Sarah started having prima-donna opinions about her costumes. Whoa, let's not even go there and let that memory sink into repressed oblivion.)

Forf Birfday

Recipe for a Birthday Success:

Wake up to a delicious birthday breakfast

Enjoy a moment of glee

Meet your birthday pinata

Dress up like your birthday pinata

Make out with your birthday pinata

Then dance with her, it's only fair

Catch a couple hours of Disney Princess movies before school
Dance at school (notice the shameless giggle when Patricio falls to the floor)



Beat your birthday pinata

Allow others to do the same

Enoy a nasty-but-pretty birthday cake

Give as much of it away as you can

Dig in

Enjoy an ugly-but-delicious birthday cake at home for ANOTHER party

Smile with the full-time life coach who made it all possible. Do you think I got a "thank-you?" Why yes, I did. . . after I told her to tell me "thank-you."

Add the full-time homepayer who made it all possible--who was in New York working his smaller-than-mommy's-big-bum-bum off to. . . well, pay for the festivities. While he was here in phone-call and spirit, it would have been a much better day if he were here in body. (He IS the favorite, you know. They don't call them Daddy's girls for nothin'!)

Then let grow for another year, resting periodically, and repeat.

Operation Get-Rid-O-Patricio

I like to think that I am pretty involved and well-versed in Sarah's social life. I am usually the first to meet her imaginary friends (all 2319 of them) and I know all about their complicated family lives (Keppa's dad is also her mom's brother and is also married to Sarah--he's a nice guy. . . who may also know Warren Jeffs). I know who pulls her hair at school and who she likes to sit next to at church.

So you can imagine my surprise when I got to school today and saw this:


Today was Sarah's birthday (more pics to follow with another post) so I brought a pinata and cake to her school after snack time. Patrick/Patricio--he apparently uses the latin version with the ladies--was with Sarah when I got there and was the first "friend" to be introduced. Sarah has only mentioned him ONCE in all the hundreds of after-school conversations we have had. And she mentioned his name in a list of boys who are always getting in trouble. . . hmmm, a troublemaker, eh?

Her teacher told me that they are always together. Her theory is that their friendship is based on the fact that he is the only other person in her class who speaks english as a first language. After seeing the sparkle in Sarah's eye, I wonder if it is more about this:


I'll have to put an end to this somehow (do you see how far those pants are hangin?). Maybe I'll have to get Keppa involved. And maybe even her mom!?! It could get ugly, but anything worth doing is usually difficult, right? Project Stoppo-Patricio is of utmost priority because I am saving Sarah for this:



Do these bring tears to anyone else's eyes? Ryan, you are the embodiment of everything good. Mama A's gonna take care of everything. Welcome to the family, little man. . . 30 years from now.

Visitantes!

Pyramids, Lucha Libre, art markets, Aztec history and great food. . . what more could you ask for. Ok, so one could potentially ask for quite a few more things here in Mexico, but we had a great month with all our visitors from abroad!

Be careful. . . Mexico can change you. . . for the better, I might add. Matt had some extra "rico suave" goin' on. Maybe there's something besides bacteria in the water.

As always, Wendy (my boy in disguise) found the bugs. Can you see the stick bug?

I am "Animo." Don't worry, I won't quit my day job of feeding the orphans. But now we can have a nice salad, no?

Lucha Libre is pretty much like WWE, only more magical. I wouldn't pay to go to one of those WWE fights, but add some masks and Mexicans, and abbra-cadabbra: it is totally awesome.

Thanks to Mom and Jess (not pictured, unfortunately) for watching the babes for a weekend. Thanks to our friends for making the trek. And thanks to Mexico D.F. for being an awesome host city.