On Giving Low-Fives: My Most Embarrassing Moment

I have recently had occasion to relate my "most embarrassing moment" story and realized I have never posted about it on the blog.  We all have one (or should, shouldn't we?) and they get pulled out and dusted off to cheer us (or others) or to allow us to relive the embarrassment again in a safer moment and through the filtered lens of time.  I actually have two solidly mortifying experiences in my back pocket as my "most embarassing moments" but the winner is definitely the one that involved giving a senior law partner at a prestigious firm a low-five in close quarters, when he was not expecting one in the least because I completely misread a gesture (and apparently lost my mind for a second and thought that low-fives were a normal and reasonable thing to do in the legal practice or life in general for that matter.  I mean, of course, right?).

It was toward the end of my summer associateship at a big law firm in Palo Alto when I was invited by a litigation partner for whom I had done quite a bit of work to attend a large arbitration in San Francisco where there were something like 8 or 10 or so law firms representing various parties all with varying degrees of interest in the complex legal matter that was being handled.  Mine was a primarily observatory role with note-taking support for two partners from my firm and during the day the sets of legal counsel for the interested parties were shuffled between large and small conference rooms, first meeting in large groups and then 2 or 3 going off to discuss side matters.  I was honestly a little starstruck at the whole process and the views from the ump-teenth floor of one of the skyscrapers downtown where we were arbitrating and I had very little to do of substance besides just follow along and try to absorb as much as I could and keep up.  It felt sort of like a little gift to be invited along since I knew these partners didn't need me at all - like "take your daughter to work day", except, you know, I wasn't their daughter and I was getting paid.

So sometime after lunch I ended up in a small room with an older, kind of gruff partner from one of our main competing firms and his summer associate, and the partner from my firm.  We (okay, they) were discussing the merits of various arguments and points were being made by each side and (and this is where time slows down and a high pitched warning buzz fills my head) the senior partner from the competing firms makes a point while opening his palms at about waist level in a semi-"am-I-right-or-am-I-right?" kind of shrug which I (incorrectly) interpreted as an invitation for a low-five for no rational reason whatsoever.  Which I promptly accepted with an enthusiastic slap on his upturned palm (the instinct to connect the low-five before the hand was pulled away with a taunting "too slow!" apparently kicked in), thereby completing the low-five exchange and proving my social (and professional) ineptitude.  

The best part is that the poor old fellow didn't see it coming AT ALL and didn't seem to know what had just happened (neither did I).  I even had a time-slows-down-as-I-see-what-is-about-to-happen-and-can't-stop-it moment of alarm just before the slap.  The partner I worked for had missed the exchange while shuffling through some papers in a folder.  Or at least that is what I told myself afterwards, even though he kept giving me strange sideways glances for the rest of that breakout session.  The other summer associate looked scandalized (appropriately so).  But he also looked a little worried, like maybe it was normal for summer associates to act that way and why hadn't he been low-fiving partners all summer long?!!  I can't possibly be the only summer associate ever who overanalyzed these kinds of social exchanges this way.  So we all moved on like nothing had happened, while I sat there wishing I could shrink away to nothing.  

Even now I cringe just reliving that in order to type it up.  A week later I got an offer to come work full-time for the firm after graduation, so... all's well that ends well.

Most embarrassing moment Number 2 involves a boy and a crush and years of joking about it with my best friend who also had a crush on the same boy, until suddenly some guys who knew the object of our shared (and only partially joking) obsession who I did not know but who knew my roommate at the time were invited into my room and saw the boy's high school senior picture (which had been color-scanned out of the yearbook, enlarged and framed by the friend with the mutual crush on him as a gag 16th birthday present for me) sitting on my desk (as a joke!  A JOKE!).  And they were like, um, why do you have a picture of Greg* on your desk?!  Isn't he dating so-and-so...?  And I basically mumbled something about "oh, it's just a joke" and then ran out of the apartment in horror praying that it wouldn't get back to Greg (who never even knew I existed) and promising myself to get rid of the picture after the guys left.

So there you have it.  My two most embarrassing moments.  Now it's your turn to share.  

* Name has been changed because of the internets and me not wanting there to be a chance that somebody would do a google search that would lead back to this blog post.  Because that would lead to an unfortunate embarrassing moment of its own.

That time I auditioned for a reality cooking show...

So, this was me last September going to a live casting call for the show Masterchef, which premieres tonight.  The short story is that I not only made it through that first round but through multiple subsequent rounds until I found myself flying to LA in January to spend almost a week with 99 other hopeful contestants.

I never really imagined auditioning for a reality cooking show.  I mean, I like to bake and cook, but I have no training or anything like that.  But while I was walking through our local farmer's market with the girls one day late last August, I was approached by a casting recruiter who told me about the open casting call in San Francisco in a couple of weeks and asked me whether I had heard of the show and would I be interested.  I was wearing Rose in the baby carrier at the time and Clara was in the stroller, but I was intrigued enough to stand and talk for a few minutes while the agent took down my name and contact info and then asked me questions about what kind of food I like to cook, how I learned to cook, how often I cook, and what my sort of life story is (stay-at-home adoptive mom, former lawyer, Mormon), etc. and then took a picture of me.  Honestly I went home laughing about the experience but thinking that the likelihood of me actually making a dish and going in to the city to try out were slim.

Until I got a phone call a few days before the casting call from a producer in LA who said they had read the preliminary info the casting recruiter had sent them and asking whether I was still considering going to the audition and if so, letting me know I would be on their VIP list and could go straight to the head of the line and essentially walk right in with my dish.  I had imagined waiting in a line for hours with hundreds of other people and that hadn't sounded like much fun to me, but the thought of having a front-of-the-line pass was enough for me to think seriously about it, come up with a dish, and head out on Bart Saturday morning while Paul took the girls on a daddy-daughter date. 

So that's how I found myself at the front of a snaking conga line of homecooks from all walks of life with my signature dish of Spicy Honey Chicken, coconut jasmine rice, arugala salad with citrus-cumin dressing, and mango avocado salsa in a bag just waiting to be plated for judging and critique.  20 of us went in at a time and were given 5 minutes to plate our signature dishes before a professional chef (not one of the celebrity ones from the show) came and tasted each part of what we had made.  One of the funnest parts about the day was seeing what all these other people had made and hearing their stories and getting to know them.  The lady next to me told me that she had made her dish 20 times over the previous month so she could have everything down perfectly.  It was a shrimp tempura bon mi sandwich or something like that.  Another guy explained his dish made with pork's ear something or other.  One girl had a bunch of leftover panna cotta with berries that she let us all taste and it was wonderful. 

Then things got crazy.  I advanced to the next round, and then the next, then the next, then the next.  Each time I thought that there was no way I was moving on.  But just before Christmas I learned I had made the final cut and was invited to audition in LA in January with the other "top 100 homecooks in America" for a spot on the show.  A couple of very generous family members in the area said they could watch the girls during the days while I was gone and Paul would be home with them for the weekend so I went. 

I can't talk about what that experience was like other than to say that it was basically awesome and nerve wracking and I had fun and met such an interesting and diverse group of people brought together by a shared love of food and cooking.  We were told that 40,000 other hopefuls had auditioned that season for one of our spots and getting to know the other 99 who made it to LA was so much fun. I can't wait to watch the ones who made it through that final cut (I didn't) tonight when the show premieres. 

Singing, a Minivan, and Clara's Imagination

I dashed into Sprouts on Wednesday night to pick up a few things for dinner (kale, Italian sausage, Yukon gold potatoes - I have a killer Olive Garden Zuppa Toscana copycat recipe) and realized while browsing the produce aisle that I was singing the song "My Girl" which was softly playing over the loudspeakers.  Like, singing "I've got sunshi-eye-ine, on a cloudy dayyyyyy" out loud and not with much subtlety and totally unconsciously.  As soon as comprehension dawned I felt super embarrassed and furtively glanced around to see if anybody had noticed.  That's when I saw that there was a man sticking apples in a bag singing "when it's cold outside, I've got the month of may" along too.  And a woman over by the onions doing the same thing.  It was like a flash mob in there and none of us were aware of our own involvement.  I went back to singing and shopping and thoroughly enjoyed the music.

We bought a new (to us) minivan last Friday.  It was the last day of January and Paul had it all planned out how that was the best day to buy a car because the salespeople were trying to meet end-of-the-month sales goals, etc. and would be more agreeable to negotiation strategies.  Anywho, we are now the proud owners of a 2011 charcoal grey Honda Odyssey Ex-L with leather interior, a dvd player, and those doors that open at the push of a button.  Paul is so pleased you have no idea.  I had to remind him more than once at the dealership to put his poker face back on because his smile was so big that it was painfully apparent how much he wanted that car even though he was telling the salesperson how there were two others for a  little less at dealerships not far away that we would go to if the pricepoint we wanted couldn't be met.  We got home late (almost 9:00 p.m.) but Clara was still awake with my mom who spent the past couple of weeks with us helping with the two little ladies.  Clara ran out to the car and immediately climbed inside the very roomy interior and started jumping up and down with her arms in the air shouting "hooray! hooray!" and giggling and smiling like a Price Is Right contestant who just won the showcase showdown.  It was awesome.  She loves her new view and even though I don't get all worked up about new cars, I have to say that the Odyssey is a pretty sweet ride and I have enjoyed how much easier it is to get the girls in and out this past week.  We can't wait to take it on a road trip and use all the cargo space.

My mom and I took the girls to the Monterey Bay Aquarium (pics to come) and when we got home that night Clara insisted on calling me "Mommy Walrus" and told me that she was "Baby Walrus".  There wasn't even a walrus at the acquarium and I was less than flattered.  I tried to convince her to call me something cuter like Mommy Sea Otter or Mommy Penguin but she flatly refused.  At least she didn't latch onto the hammerhead sharks that we saw. 

I forgot to mention in my previous post where Paul was painting Clara's nails how, during the manicure, Clara chided Paul for his lack of conversation skills. "You have to talk to me, Daddy!" Clara bossed as Paul quietly concentrated on keeping the polish only on the nail and not on the surrounding cuticles.  Paul and I were cracking up over that one and I can't believe I forgot to mention it.

A week or so ago Clara rediscovered her toy medical kit and has since repurposed the stethoscope into a monkey tail.  It was completely her own imagination - she picked it up, stuck it around her waist with the long part hanging down the back, and announced that it was her monkey tail and has played like that for days and days now.  I am so proud of the imagination this girl has. 

She also has been wrapping small quilts around herself (the kind I lay Rose on in the living room to change her diaper or for tummy time, etc.) and performing "Let It Go" from "Frozen" since she has transformed herself into Elsa with a "sparkly cape".  For a little bit I debated going to the Disney Store and buying her an Elsa costume (even though I'm trying to get her to back off this obsession with "Frozen" by not playing the songs for her as often even though she begs for them 100 zillion times a day) but then thought, "why sabotage her imagination?"  If she believes that a patchwork quilt is a sparkly cape, more power to her for being so creative and imaginative and who am I to cripple that by getting her the "real" thing?  So instead I helped her out by safety pinning it around her to free up both of her hands for her musical numbers. 

And speaking of musical numbers, yesterday when we got home from dropping Grandma Cece off at the airport, I carried Rose into the bedroom in her carseat and shut the door since she was sound asleep and I didn't want to disturb her.  Clara then realized it was the perfect opportunity to perform another favorite song from "Frozen" - "Do You Want To Build A Snowman?".  I was crazy lucky and she agreed to give me an encore performance - this time with my phone camera rolling - and I got it on video with only a little coaxing. 

Do you want to build a snowman from Amy Nash on Vimeo.

 

The latest update on Rose is that she is such a good baby and is doing really great.  Her sleeping is normalizing and last night she actually slept from about 9:00 p.m. to 4:00 a.m., which is completely ridiculous for a 3-week old in my opinion.  It was my night off (Paul gets up with the girls on the weekends) so I wasn't totally surprised though because Clara always, always, always slept best whenever it was Paul's turn to get up and apparently Rose is going to do the same.  But two nights before that she had a 5 1/2 hour stretch of sleep as well so maybe these good long sleep stretches aren't a total fluke?  Typically though she is up twice a night - once around 1:00 a.m. and a second time around 4:00 a.m.  And when she is awake she is super alert and has such good head strength already!  She loves to be held and is generally a pretty contented little gal.  I am planning more Rose-specific posts next week after her birth announcements go out.

 

November is Super Weird

I don't know what it is about this month that makes me all anxious.  To me, November is such a confused, strange month.  Has anyone else noticed this?  I don't really think it is that it is the lead-up to the major holiday spectacle season of the year and I don't think it has anything to do with coming off the Halloween sugar rush or anything.  But maybe that is part of it?

November is SO many things.  For example, of course it is the month of giving thanks so lots of people do the thing where they post on Facebook or blogs or just at home with an advent calendar about something they are thankful for each day of the month.  It is also National Adoption Month so in the adoption world you see lots of blog posts about that (some adoption bloggers do daily debunking of adoption myths). 

Then it is National Novel Writing Month where the goal is to write a novel in a month by getting down, like, 2,000 words of text per day.  I have totally always wanted to try it (not that I imagine some great literature would come spewing forth with that approach but I think it would be an intensely interesting/challenging personal effort to do something I have always wanted to do).  Interestingly, the book "Water for Elephants" was a result of a National Novel Writing Month project. 

I've seen a bunch of friends cyber-encouraging each other through "No Sugar November" and I always feel just a teensy bit guilty going about not joining in that kind of commitment (but I won't because I know that I just can't do it.  Not for a month.  Give me a smaller and more manageable timeframe, like, say, Wednesdays.  No sugar Wednesdays.  I could handle that.  Maybe.) 

This is also the month of the "Pile on the Miles" challenge which is basically a challenge to up your weekly mileage in your running.  And I can't forget that it is the month of "Movember" (short for moustache November) or "Noshember" (short for no shave November) where basically, you ignore common grooming standards in favor of not shaving for a month - for dudes this typically means growing a mustache and for the, erm, ladies, you don't shave your legs... hmm, I feel super awkward explaining this.

And then there is Black Friday, of course, so my email is already getting spammed like crazy with non-stop emails and I find myself clicking "unsubscribe" nearly every day to some company or other (seriously Banana Republic, why do you feel the need to email me like 4 times a day?  I do like your clothes but I totally don't get the pushiness.)  I know I could just use a separate email account to sign up for junk emails like that, but let's be honest, I would never, ever, check it so why bother? 

There is tons of other stuff that I maybe don't have as strong of connections too but that are no less important like the fact that November is both Lung Cancer Awareness month and Pancreatic Cancer Awareness month.  I'm sure it is a bunch of other things month too.

I'm not saying any of the above is bad or dumb or anything like that.  All of the above have shown up on my Facebook page or blog feed in recent days as friends have updated their statuses about them.  Heck, I'm all about jumping on nerdy bandwagons with stuff like this.  But isn't it bizarre that November has turned into sort of a catch-all month for randomness?  I just can't decide whether to embrace it all or hide from it.

Okay, enough of my musings.  I have some novel writing/distance running/no candy eating to do...

Two Stories

Story #1

Last week Paul and I went out for date night, which we try to do on a regular basis.  He wanted to see the movie "Captain Phillips".  I suggested haunted mini-golfing but somehow forgot to use my birthday month trump card to get out of the movie because I found myself getting more and more seasick in the theater while watching Somali pirates (they were Somali, right?) trying to take over a huge freighter ship.  I left and went to the lobby thinking maybe a few minutes away from the jerking screen would ease my stomach but when I went back in one of the pirates had stepped on glass set down by the crew to sabotage the takeover effort and guns were being drawn and I just couldn't stomache it.  So I told Paul I was going to go hang out in Target (thank heavens we were at the theater attached to the mall with an attached Target!). 

He was totally all, "okay! have fun!" and I huffed off (he didn't notice the huffing, which is too bad because I was at least hoping he might feel a tinge guilty that he was staying for the rest of the movie without me).  Because he should have followed me out, right?  I mean, I totally didn't explain that 1. the movie was the worst, 2, I was feeling motion sick, and 3. we were ON A DATE and that usually doesn't mean he gets to watch a movie while I sit on the floor of the book section in Target catching up on new cookbook releases and magazines waiting for the movie to get out. 

Really the whole situation cracked me up, and we laughed about it on the way home (you know, after we got past me accusing him of being unchivalrous) - how I was all annoyed and how he was all oblivious.  But it was REALLY hilarious when he came home from work the next day with a story about how his buddy Matt had gone to the movies with his wife the previous week and the EXACT SAME THING had happened to them (except she went to Starbucks because there was no nearby Target) and had the same conversation afterwards about how he should have followed her out and how we (the wives) don't have to spell it out that they (the husbands) have to leave the theater too.  Poor Paul and Matt were still a little flummoxed about it all so I have resolved to be more direct next time.

Story #2

For the past three years that we have been in our house, we have narrowly avoided frostbite in the wintertime by dealing with a barely functional heating system that has hobbled along while we have channeled our resources into the projects that were more important to us at the time (kitchen & living room remodel, bedroom remodel, landscaping projects, etc.).  We're lucky that it never actually gets cold enough for frostbite here. 

Seriously though, our entire house (including all 4 bedrooms and the main living spaces) were heated through only TWO vents.  Which is straight up nuts.  There was basically no ductwork in the house and we would have been freezing already, but on top of that, the furnace was 30 years old and only worked when you manually plugged it in to get rid of the worst of the chill, then unplugged it from the wall because otherwise it just ran and ran and ran.  Plus, it was in a little utility closet in the hallway and essentially sounded like a slightly muffled freight train whenever it was on.  We had to choose between being able to have a conversation without shouting over it or freeze our fannies off and huddle around space heaters during the winter.  (I exaggerate, but still...)

Anyway, we decided we were not going to deal with one more winter like the past ones and we contacted, like, six different heating guys to get bids.  After two days with three guys working up in our attic and around the house, we have a brand new heating system.  (And none too soon because yesterday was in the 50's and Clara and I were bundled up and keeping each other cozy reading books all afternoon waiting for them to FINALLY be finished so we could crank it up to 80 and defrost our poor toesies!)

Paul posted the following picture on Instagram but didn't really explain:

His picture was really a joke because there is a company that makes a device called The Nest which essentially reads your mind and keeps your entire house at the perfect temperature always while saving the maximum amount of energy possible, etc. 

The Nest is practically Artificial Intelligence and was invented by a bunch of people who left Apple (so while not an Apple product, it is sort of an Apple product).  Paul actually sent the photo to our buddy Jason who is 1. really into tech stuff as a former Apple guy, 2. the guy who subscribed Paul to Handyman magazine so they could geek out each month over the articles about various remodel/household projects to do, and 3. hilarious in his own right.  Jason, of course, got the joke and they proceeded to have a nerdy conversation about various efficiency related stuff, etc. afterwards.  Jason's wife, Ginny, can totally back me up on this, but let it be known that we both love that our husbands are so handy and think it is adorable that they get all enthused about this kind of stuff because ultimately we benefit from it. 

Anyway, those are my two stories about Paul lately.  I swear I have had like four or five others that I have meant to post but I can't even remember them now which is a bummer.  Is it just me or have I been super bad about blogging about this kind of random stuff like I used to or what? 

Random Bullets

• About 3 weeks ago Clara learned how to open doors on her own.  We have been fortunate that she hasn't cared much about this for a long time but now that it has happened I find it is not so bad as I feared.  At least she still can't reach the deadbolt on the front door yet.
• I caved at the farmer's market tonight and bought a small olallieberry pie since I have been denying myself one all summer long every time I went past the baking stall.  Of course, then I had to stop by the grocery store on the way home for vanilla ice cream.  Somehow my ice cream to pie ratio was off and I had to have an extra half slice of pie to go with the leftover ice cream.  Like, HAD to.
• Paul sends me cute texts during the day reminding me to get a babysitter for the weekend or to rave about the leftovers I sent with him for lunch.  Last week when I was sick he actually called during his lunch break, which just happened to be during Clara's naptime and I just happened to have successfully fallen asleep (daytime napping is practically impossible for me) for the first time in the middle of the day in ages and ages (probably the first time this year).  He felt pretty bad, which was good because I was not super happy about it and needed appropriate remorse and groveling before I could forgive.
• Clara's imagination is taking off!  Today she was giving her Minnie Mouse figurine "swimming lessons".  She would set her up and then Clara would bend herself in half and do the "crawl" stroke around the room while pretending to blow bubbles.  She never successfully did this during her own swimming lessons this summer.  If you can't do, teach, right?  We also spent the afternoon running from room to room "catching" butterflies that had apparently infested our house (this was all her idea once she spotted her butterfly net in the corner of her closet.  I had to describe each butterfly (blue with white stars! yellow with green stripes!) then she would say "flutter-flutter:  it got away mommy!!" and off we went to catch another one.
• Clara has been able to count to 10 for a long time but she absolutely has refused to do it for months now.  Then she watches one episode of "Super Why" with a character called "Math-a-Million" and now she counts anything and everything perfectly all the way up to twelve. 
  She has also started identifying letters and is pretty good at it too, getting most of them correct.  Although she always calls them "Super Letters". 
• Paul has become a lighting genius and has turned our front yard into a crazy beautiful paradise with spotlights on the trees and mood lighting in the flower beds.  It took him pretty much all of Saturday and Monday to get them installed, but it is seriously my favorite place now and we have spent part of every evening sitting outside on the bench just admiring the glow.  He is still tweaking some things and we still need to put sod in part of the yard where we had bushes before, but hopefully we'll get that done soon and I can put photos on here since the difference is huge (at least to us). 
• I am already obsessing over Halloween.  I am trying to keep things in check and I haven't actually put out any decorations yet or anything (Paul says no) but I am working on our costumes (so excited!) and when I walked into the grocery store I noticed they already have Jack-o-Lanterns topping some of their aisles and a seasonal section that is already half-filled with bags of candy and Halloween paraphernalia and it made me all happy inside. 

Photo Shoot Paranoia (updated with photos)

Guys, I'm in agony.  A couple months ago Paul saw a Groupon for a family photo shoot with a local photographer for a good deal and he bought it for us since we haven't had somebody take "real" photos in, well, pretty much since Clara was born.  Anyway, for some reason I have been sort of nervous about these photos for the last week or so (somehow it feels like there is a lot riding on these photos - which there is not, at least, not really - because we plan on hopefully putting one up on a wall and that sort of thing) and have been making constant mental notes to myself to do things like make sure my eyes were open (rather than squinty like I feel like I normally am in photos) and angle my shoulders just-so to make my waist look a little thinner and squeeze this area and tighten that area and don't smile like a fool but to try for a confident but casual smile, etc. to look my very best.  Ugh.  Why do I do things like this?  Please tell me I am not the only one.  And of course the day we have photos is the day that Clara shortens her nap by well over an hour so she was tired and totally not interested in having pictures taken by the time we started (and promptly fell asleep again as soon as we got home, which is why I have time to type this now). 

And I know that I totally forgot every single thing I wanted to remember and implement and before I knew it, photos were over and I'm fretting that I will not like any of the pictures and sort of dreading the results.  Like right after a law school exam when I realized I had missed 37 glaring torts that were so obvious and I was kicking myself over it.  (Granted, the stakes are much lower with a little photo shoot and true, I actually rocked my torts final, but really, it took me right back there and it was a weird feeling.)  At least I love how our clothes looked and Clara's hair looked so, so darling with a little navy blue and white polka dot headband in it. 

It didn't help that the photographer didn't talk or give direction or suggestions and hadn't really paid any attention to the explanation of the type of setting I wanted for the photo shoot when we arranged everything (I was hoping for a grassy field type setting with wildflowers or something).  I guess that is what we get for going with somebody random through a Groupon deal where he is super cheap and we get what we pay for, right? 

Please, oh please, just let there be one good shot of all three of us.

*UPDATED:  We got the unedited photos back tonight, so I did the editing myself and I feel like there are a couple that are okay but none that were what I was really hoping for.  Oh well.  It is so hard to convey artistic vision.  But they weren't as bad as I had feared, at least.  Anyway, here are the ones that made the cut.  There is really only one where all three of us were looking at the camera (the first one).  You can tell by the end that Clarabelle had just about had it.  In the first picture of the lot Clara is doing her favorite pose that cracks us up every time where she grabs us both around the neck and squeezes us in close to her while tilting her head against mine. 

In case anyone is wondering about our clothing (because that is one of the first things I always wonder about when I see other people's photo shoots), Clara's sweater and shirt were from the Janie & Jack outlet store, her pants are from Baby Gap, her shoes are from Crazy 8, and her headband is from the Gymboree outlet store; my pants are from Ann Taylor Loft, my shirt is from The Limited (although the exact same shirt was at the J. Crew outlet store but for $20 more - crazy, huh?!), and my necklace is from Francesca's Boutique; and Paul's shirt is from the J. Crew outlet store and his pants are from Banana Republic. 

My Top Ten Ideas for a More Memorable Halloween Season

Tonight our ward had a mid-week Relief Society activity about simple ideas for making the upcoming holiday seasons (Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas) fun and memorable.  There was a presenter for each holiday and I was asked a number of weeks ago to present about Halloween (my favorite holiday) since I sort of have a reputation for being a Halloween fan. 

Anyway, I did some brainstorming and came up with ten ideas for a more memorable Halloween that I talked about (and gave as a handout) tonight:

1. Music  – Play it to wake up your kids for school or before going trick-or-treating.  Have a little dance party in your living room.  Some of my favorite Halloween songs are Thriller, Monster Mash, Flight of the Valkyries, Toccata and Fugue in D Minor, Ghostbusters, Purple People Eater
2. Food – Choose a traditional meal to serve every year (e.g. pumpkin pancakes for breakfast, a healthy dinner that is the same every year, etc.); it helps to make something you don’t normally make or prepare regular food in a special way (enchiladas with two dollops of sour cream and an olive in each center to look like eyes or monte cristo sand"witches" for something special and different)
3. Photos – Scrapbook album, photo book or picture frames packed away with Halloween decorations and pulled out each year to remember previous years’ costumes (it will be especially fun to see the progression in costumes and growth of kids year-after-year)
4. Costumes – dress up and make someone’s day (grab a scary mask and wear it while making breakfast; invest in a black or red cape for simple costume ideas like vampire, magician, red riding hood, superhero, etc.)
5. Décor – paper chains from newspapers or sheet music, a tablecloth from Halloween fabric bought on sale after the holiday, lots of candles, etc. 
6. Literature – check out Halloween books from the library (many options for young children - my favorites are "Frankenstein Makes a Sandwich" by Adam Rex and "Halloween" by Jerry Seinfeld; older children may be interested in Jekyll & Hyde, Frankenstein, Dracula) and read a different book or chapter each night
7. Evening walk by flashlight – go for a spooky walk ahead of Halloween with flashlights to admire the decorations 
8. Scare your family – buy a giant spider/ghost/bat/skeleton that you move around the house (hide it in the bathtub, bed, car, refrigerator, etc.) - Paul and I started this tradition on accident when we bought a huge spider and Paul kept rigging it to get me (a couple of more memorable spots were when it was hanging from the garage door motor when I drove into the garage and when I went to check on Clara when she was 5 months old and found it in the crib with her (she was sleeping, thank goodness))
9. Fall stovetop potpourri – cut an apple in quarters and put in a small pot with cinnamon sticks, whole cloves, and a teaspoon of vanilla, then fill pot with water and simmer on the stove all day, replenishing water as needed 
10. Take (and get in!!) Pictures – capture images of the fun things you do, not just on Halloween but leading up to it (pumpkin patches, costumes, carving jack-o-lanterns, etc.)

If you have any other good ideas, please share!

Automobile Envy

My husband is obsessed with minivans.  He is always like, "Ooooh, did you just see that sweet Odyssey?" or "Wow, that Sienna is so nice."  He is constantly looking at them online and telling me about all the sexy details like stow-and-go seating or automatic sliding doors.  The other day he actually got home from work and dragged me and Clara over to the car dealership with him to look at the Odyssey.

 

 

I sort of don't know what to do about him.  We certainly don't need a minivan right now and I like zipping around town in our efficient little Civic.  And when I am dreaming about cars, I frankly dream more about the kind of machine that Bond drives.  You know, Daniel Craig Bond.  In a tux.  In an Aston Martin. 

 

Oh baby, now THAT is a car.

*Disclaimer - I know that one day I will be driving a minivan around (like every mom in America) and I am sure that I will be fine with that.  Or mostly fine with that.  But that day is not today and I am okay with that. 

Ego Tripping

On Saturday afternoon we got home from an FSA (Families Supporting Adoption) Lunch to find a cute little bag on the front porch with oatmeal chocolate chip cookies and the sweetest messages from some of the Young Women for me.  I really did enjoy being in Young Womens and I am totally going to miss these girls but I know that they have great new leaders.  And I am weirdly looking forward to teaching the Gospel Doctrine class this Sunday for the first time. 

I just had to share a few of the notes (not all because there were quite a few and some had both first and last names on them and I don't want to post identifying information about my Young Women for privacy reasons) I received on the blog because they made me smile so much. 

It's true - the "Seven Brides for Seven Brothers" movie activity was probably the biggest hit activity of the summer and the young women (it was combined so all the young women ages 12-18) were in heaven since none of them (and most of the leaders too!) had ever seen it before.  I was all astonishment at that since I probably watched that movie a hundred times if I watched it once while I was in Young Womens. 

Nothing feels quite as good as being told by one of our super fashionable young women that you have good fashion sense.  Totally prideful of me to think that, but it is true.

Ahh, the "old disney color music" - one of my nerdier moments slipped out one summer night after our activity was over and the young women were hanging out in the parking lot waiting for parents to show up for rides home.  A bunch of my beehives (the 12-13 year old girls) were sharing songs on their phones and talking about what awesome songs they are (they are all completely obsessed with the band One Direction) and I jumped in on the conversation and told them they had to listen to my current favorite song.  They quieted down and I played Disney's Ludwig Von Drake's "The Spectrum Song" that my sister Jessica has all of her nieces (including Clara) hooked on.  And yes, I totally danced to it using my dorkiest moves which I think initially embarassed the girls until they decided I was awesome for not caring, which is probably why Dakota said my dance moves are boss.  You know you want to hear the song now, don't you?

 

 

I am really going to miss those girls.

Amy versus the Skinny Jeans

Yesterday it was 90 degrees outside and Clara and I needed a break from the heat so we headed over to the mall play place.  After about 30 minutes of playtime, the mall employees kicked everybody out so they could clean the area (seriously?! they had to clean it in the middle of the afternoon when all the kids were there?), so I plopped Clara in the stroller and we went window shopping.

I ended up at J. Crew holding a pair of red skinny jeans in my hands.  I don't even know how it happened.  One second I was groaning over fashion trends and how I don't understand belts and boots and skinny jeans and don't own any of the above and the next second I was letting the store employee escort me back to the dressing room to try on the tight red pants with a darling navy blue top dotted with white anchors.  In my mind I was thinking, "you know, this just might work.  Maybe the idea of skinny jeans is so crazy and bizarre that this just might turn out okay.  Lots of your friends wear them and they look great!" 

It was all a lie. 

Aside from making me look like I have some pretty phenomenal calves (a first for me) and not being as uncomfortable as I thought I probably should be while wearing long pants that are much more form-fitting than anything I normally wear, the skinny jeans accentuated all the wrong parts of my lower-half.  Possibly the worst part is that I could see my knees.  And I hate my knees.  Always have.  And just forget about the hip, thigh, and bum regions.  Sheesh.  What was I thinking? 

I was, however, in L.O.V.E. with the navy blue anchor top, which is no surprise since navy is without question my best color and I always feel confident in navy.  Then I read the price tag.  $135 for a blouse?!   

I hate fashion.

Memorial Day 2012

Memorial Day this year consisted of a ward pancake breakfast like no other I have ever experienced.  There were whole wheat banana pancakes, bacon, and huge bowlfuls of strawberries and blueberries with whipped cream for topping the pancakes.  It was seriously wonderful and I was glad that Paul and I had decided to walk to the church with Clara in the stroller for the breakfast so that we could waddle our way home again. 

The rest of the day mainly consisted of us trying to put our house back together by moving things out of the garage and into the kitchen during Clara's naptimes and Paul started putting on trim and baseboard, which he says is one of his favorite remodeling projects because it looks finished and clean and it goes up fairly quickly. 

We spent a few hours at the park in the late afternoon having a barbeque with church friends.  Paul brought a frisbee and would float it right down in front of Clara's lap, which amazed her and she would gaze up with a wide-mouth smile at her dad like he had just done the most astonishing thing ever.  I tried throwing the frisbee but it always went completely off target - I never have figured out the technique for proper frisbee tossing so that it floats and mine usually go far afield and roll off in a completely unexpected direction. 

My favorite part of the afternoon though was probably when I convinced my friend Melanie to do cartwheels, somersaults, handstands, and backbends with me.  Because if I am the only one doing that kind of thing I usually end up looking weird and being pitied by others for being such a nerd.  Turns out the only gymnastic skill that I can sort of still do with a modicum of grace is a backbend.  My cartwheels are less vertical than I thought - at least by the accounts of others even though I thought my form was impressive.  My handstands are pathetic - I chicken out and can't make it all the way up.  And my somersaults are ... well, when was the last time YOU tried a somersault?  Go ahead, sneak into the backyard sometime today and try one.  I dare you. 

I wish I had brought the camera.

Email blasts

Around Christmas time, I got overwhelmingly sick of the emails I got seemingly each hour from a number of retailers who had added me to their listserve over the years.  I would wake up each morning with something like 40 unread emails regarding deals on cosmetics, shoes, soap, books, clothing, music, etc. and I was finally bombarded with so much noise that I unsubscribed from everything.  Or so I thought.  How is it that the number of junk emails I get has been creeping steadily upwards again?  None of it is spam - thank goodness I have never had problems with those awful subject lines making their way to my inbox - but still, it totally bugs, you know? 

And the dumb thing is that sometimes I read the subject line and think to myself, "Wow! 40% off everything I put in my bag?! Super!  I am totally going shopping!" And then I have to have a little pep talk with myself along the lines of, "Well, Amy, it sounds like a good deal and I know you would LIKE to have new clothes, but you totally don't NEED new clothes and remember how you are trying to be good about sticking to a budget now that you aren't working and we are remodeling the kitchen?  Hmm, remember?"

Blarg.  It is easier to be good when I don't get the enticing emails in the first place.  Time to unsubscribe from everything again.

Ghosts of Leap Days Past

I thought it would be interesting to try to figure out some of the details of the 8 Leap Days (or at least the time periods surrounding the 8 Leap Days) I have experienced in my (ahem) 31 years.

February 29, 2012: Working full-time at a large law firm as a litigator; feeling totally overwhelmed with my cases and clients and experiencing major burn-out; loving my smart, gregarious, supportive, handsome, and hard-working husband for all he's worth but feeling bad because I feel like I have leaned on him pretty hard in the past few months as I have struggled with this working-mom gig; feeling so lucky and blessed to have the most darling, happy girl in this world who clings to me with ferocity, laughs all the time, and who has just learned how to clap her hands; not loving the extra weight I am carrying around but haven't done a thing about since I barely have time to do the basics of life (get dishes washed and laundry folded) let alone engage in a weight-loss regimen.

February 29, 2008: Studying hard as a second-year law student at BYU's J. Reuben Clark School of Law; Paul rides the bus to school early every morning and gets home late, at which point we forego studying and instead watch tv shows like "Lost" or go for walks in South Provo where we were living and debating whether it would ever be financially possible for us to live in California; I had not yet started the blog and instead spent lots of time reading Twilight and fooling around on Goodreads; missing Germany where we had lived the summer before and conniving ways to travel to exotic places again; having fun having my sister Jessica living in Provo as a Freshman and worrying about my sister Jennie who was planning a wedding from BYU-Idaho (I was much too protective and not very supportive of her during a time that was very exciting for her and when she probably wanted me to excited for her, which I am ashamed of to this day).

February 29, 2004: I was fairly recently returned missionary who was newly engaged, planning a May wedding, and living in a house south of BYU campus with some great girls (5 of the 6 of whom were also returned missionaries); I worked as a teacher at the Missionary Training Center in Provo, Utah preparing mostly 19-24 year old men and women to go all over the world and be missionaries; Paul and I were practically inseparable even though we weren't married yet and we ate most of our meals together and were taking a dance class together; I was doing the Finance core at BYU.

February 29, 2000: I was a lowly college sophmore who had moved back into the dorms after a miserable fall semester off-campus; I remember feeling friendless when I moved back to the dorms and embarassed to be around all the freshmen--like I had failed at living off-campus--but I had my own tiny private room that was scarcely the size of a closet in Deseret Towers (now demolished) and I poured myself into German and Calculus classes and running on the BYU indoor track; I took up swing dancing and went to dances every weekend by myself where I stood against the walls and watched the other dancers until I learned enough of the basics to start dancing myself and asking some of the guys who seemed to be willing to teach if they would help me learn; I didn't know it, but Paul and I were in the same ward that met in the Law building where I would eventually obtain my graduate degree and he had been eyeing me for two months trying to get up his courage to talk to me.

February 29, 1996: I was sophmore in high school and bored out of my mind in North Platte, Nebraska; I had no friends and still hadn't heard of email at that point to keep in touch with my friends from Southern California where I had moved from the year before; I joined the track team since no other extra-curricular program would have me and I spent February training for distance races where I always came in last place; I took my sisters to the local rec center just down the street from our house many times a week so that we could swim at the indoor pool or sit in the sauna together.

February 29, 1992: (It is getting hard to remember what was happening now that we are this far back...) I was 11 years old and pretty much the only thing I did of note other than elementary school was I participated in a singing and dancing group and I think I was busy with rehearsals for the musical "Annie," where I played a hobo and a maid; I had one line in the play and I remember the director getting frustrated with me for always smiling while I was onstage as a hobo and her telling me that I was supposed to look downtrodden when I delivered my only line ("My fingers is freezin'!") instead of gleeful, but I was just so excited to be performing that I smiled like a dimwit every time.

February 29, 1988: Not a clue what was going on in my 7-year old life other than that I was living in Omaha, Nebraska and my best friends were Toby Meusberger (who the means kids at school would call "Toby the Tuba" since he was chubby) and Jenny Wood (who lived next door to me and whose mom I still email on occasion although Jenny and I haven't talked since I went to her high school graduation in Sioux Falls, South Dakota in 1999, although we are FB friends at least).

February 29, 1984: Are you kidding me? I was 3 and I had an older brother and a younger brother who I probably terrorized and bossed around.

Phew, that was an exercise in recall. Happy Leap Day.

P.S. An amazing friend of mine (who also happens to be an adoptive mama) is involved with a volunteer organization that is looking for volunteers to go to Honduras to spend some time working in an orphanage. If you or anyone you know is interested, you can learn more about the opportunity (which sounds amazing) on her blog: http://fyionrachandry.blogspot.com/2012/02/i-need-your-help.html.

A few thoughts before bedtime

I painted my fingernails tonight after Clara went to sleep then worked on my computer while Paul washed dishes;

My assistant at work (who is way too good to me) bought me the book "Pride and Prejudice and Zombies";

I have two sets of adoption friends who recently had adoptions fall through and my heart has been breaking for them;

I have one set of adoption friends who recently had a placement happen and I rejoice for them;

Last night when Paul asked me for a glass of water I filled it with really hot water instead of cold, giggling at what a great prank I was going to pull - he figured it out before taking a swig though;

Clara apparently dislikes spaghetti - at least the Gerber 3rd foods kind - and I am worried she will wake up hungry tonight since she didn't eat very much for dinner because even when I switched to banana custard (which she loves) she seemed to have the spaghetti taste in her mouth and kept refusing;

I really like seeing the balance of our savings account going up and the balance of our student loans going down;

When I got home with Clara tonight, it was nearing dusk and the sky was clotted with gray clouds so we went for a walk and I taught her about rain, wind, clouds, lightning, and thunder, complete with sound effects and Clara-girl loved it;

For dinner last night I cooked a casserole that I made and stuck in the freezer more than two months ago and while it wasn't the best thing ever, it also wasn't a complete failure as a meal;

Paul and I rented a movie called "Contagion" this weekend about an epidemic which freaked me out, so I went out and stocked up on baby food and formula for Clara on Monday night, just in case;

Sometimes Paul and I talk about how at some point in our life we are going to need a car with more space and although I don't like the idea, Paul might be able to persuade me into a mini-van if it means that we get to have a big(ger) family;

We think, but are not entirely sure, that Clara has been trying to say "mama" recently - it certainly sounds a lot like it and it is always directed at me when she wants me to pick her up and hold her;

I haven't had a haircut in six months and I am dying to do something about that but just can't commit to an appointment, much less find a new salon out here since I still don't have someone I like;

That is all, and good night.

Astonishment at the Supermarket

This weekend I was doing the traditional it's-Saturday-night-and-we-need-milk/bread/eggs/vegetables/meat/etc.-for-Sunday run while Paul was at home with a napping Clara and I came across this pizza & cookie dough combo in the freezer aisle.  I confess I was  flabbergasted.  Who buys this kind of stuff?!  And who are the geniuses who think up this kind of product that is everything wrong with America?  (Note: I love my country, but seriously, has our laziness come to this?!)

I texted Paul and Jessica this photo while I was still at the supermarket so that they could enjoy the moment of astonished indignance that I had just experienced.

"Yikes that is a dangerous combo...I want it!!" Jessica replied within minutes. 

"Awesome!! Get it!" Paul texted back.

I am so disappointed in the both of them.  Shameful.

Zombies and such

To come clean, I kind of sort of think there is an impending zombie apocalypse coming. Okay, not really. Zombies are fictional. But possibly ...?

Anyhoo, I have seen a few zombie movies here and there when nobody was around to laugh at me and last year I totally got into the way horrible series "The Walking Dead" on AMC. We don't watch it any more because 1. It was pretty bad, 2. We got rid of all our extra cable channels, 3. Paul doesn't think zombies are as interesting as I do, and 4. I couldn't watch the show at night because it freaked me out too much. But I just started a new audiobook, not knowing what it was about, and it turns out it is about zombies - the "unconsecrated" as the book calls them. My skin crawled as I realized what kind of book I had just started on my way to work and I may or may not imagine zombies lurking in the trees off the freeway waiting for a traffic jam so they can mob the unsuspecting commuters. And I definitely find myself thinking how I can best protect Clara in case a zombie invasion overwhelms us. When you are a parent me, you think about that possibility no matter how insipid and unreal it seems. I admit to having stockpiled enough baby formula and baby food to get us through a while, not because the prophet said to or because an earthquake could happen, but because you never know when some mutant flu could turn your neighbors into flesh-eating brainless monsters. So there.

Incidentally, Paul thinks I am nuts, but we will just have to wait and see about that one, won't we...

I know I haven't had a whole lot to say on here lately, but I have just been too exhausted to blog at night and that is pretty much the only time I have these days. The past two nights my mom has called me to Skype and show me the cute outfits she has picked up for Clara at Gymboree and every time I see myself in the corner of the computer screen I have looked like haggard Death itself. Work has been brutal (I spent almost eight hours in the office last Saturday while Paul got to stay home and play with Clara), but things look like they might settle down here for a little bit. I keep a little sheet of paper on my desk with a calendar I made because sometimes it helps me to check days off as they pass. I put a big red star on Clara's birthday (in case anyone wonders about the importance of the red star) and I keep the calendar next to my bulletin board, which I have covered with photos of Clara, Paul, and me.

Paul has been my hero and has been pretty much picking up all my slack with laundry and dishes and didn't even complain when I made him eat stuffed shells for dinner the other night (which I know he hates but it was one of those frozen Bertolli's dinners and it sounded so yummy to me). He stayed up really late with me on Thursday night because I was too tired to get ready for bed and just wanted to veg out in front of the TV catching up on The Office.

We are watching "The Bachelor" again this season, even though I previously said that I would refuse to watch it again since it really is awful television. But it does give me new ideas for how to do my hair and encourages me to be braver about accessorizing. Today I tried out the low side-bun thing that one of the girls was sporting at the rose ceremony on Monday - she wore it better but I still liked how it turned out - and I wore a scarf to work that looked cute with the earrings my mom gave me for Christmas.

My resolutions about exercise have pretty much gone out the window, but I am still doing good on scripture study and I have been making much better choices about the foods I eat. I have been able to majorly curbing my mindless snacking at work and dessert has been a once or maybe twice a week thing so far this year. While that may not sound like the best progress, it is huge compared to our pretty much daily dessert habit last year, and I already am feeilng physically better for it.

Other than that, there is just not a whole lot happening around these parts and I don't have any new stories or deep thoughts to share.

On being popular

Okay, so here is the thing:  I've had a long day at work, a long weekend of sickness 'round here, and three long days of work before that.  And a part of me wants to hide everything I am thinking and feeling lately from the world (especially in case anybody from work reads this blog although I don't think they do except for possibly one secretary who I know knows about it but who doesn't read it regularly I think) while another part of me wants to put it all out there for some reason (that reason would be so everyone can tell me how I am awesome and have it all together and am their hero, right? Just kidding.  Nope, not kidding.  Sort of.  You can decide.)  This post isn't really about all the things I have been dealing with lately (yes I have cried every day and I might post about that and I might not, but thankfully, Clara seems to be doing pretty well at daycare), but it IS about one of the things that has been on my mind all day today for some reason.

When I was a kid, I moved A LOT.  And I loved relocating for pretty much one reason:  I was a HUGE nerd and I figured with each move that I had learned from past moves and could start fresh and FINALLY be popular.  The Bekins truck would show up, boxes would be loaded and my family would pile in our van to drive across the country to a new state and I would sit there in my bucket seat imagining and planning about how I would convince everybody at my new school that I was super interesting and cute and fun.  Inevitably, I made the same nerdy mistakes (like being too smart, not liking boys soon enough (I remember boasting to my mom that all the other girls on the playground always got caught by the boys when they were chasing us but not me and my mom knowingly saying something about those girls wanting to get caught), not understanding when all the other girls were going through certain "changes" that I was not and never would go through myself, wearing too-short jeans, being friends with teachers, saying "no" to bad things like swearing and a lot worse, eating my lunch in the library, etc.) and was immediately branded an outcast.  I had very few friends.  Like, one friend pretty much (you know who you are and I will be forever grateful for you and the things I have learned from you - do you miss Hawaii as much as I do?). 

I have exactly 2 FB "friends" from the high school I graduated from in Nebraska.  One was my senior prom date and show choir partner who asked me to the dance at the last minute by saying "I want to go to prom and I know that no one else is going to ask you so I was wondering what if we went together?"  He ended up marrying a man in Iowa where that is legal.  The other is a girl who is now a fashion designer in NYC who sat by me in choir and sang alto with me and she always talked about how her mom was a chain smoker and who is now a chain smoker herself from what I can tell of her FB photos.  I think it is interesting that for all the people who rejected me in that small Nebraska high school that these two people would seek me out to friend me on FB. 

Everything turned around for me in college though.  I made friends and I had people to do things with on weekends.  I didn't date a lot, but I dated some and for the most part I remember thinking that was pretty fun.  Going on a mission and then going to law school were even better because I somehow filtered myself into groups of people who I had a ton in common with (the super churchy goody-two-shoes crowd and the super logical/nerdy/ambitious crowd). 

Even now at work, I find myself shocked to have so many people come by my office and say they are glad I am back and ask if I want go to lunch with them (even though I am still a nerd and would probably bring along a novel and eat soup in my office while reading by myself if I had my druthers and if I bothered to take a decent lunch break in the first place).  Mostly I think people at work like me to come to lunch because I usually don't know what to say to fit in to the conversation so I either end up being a very good listener OR I end up telling stories about buying guns to protect myself in a zombie apocalypse, explaining how my grandma was one of two twins named Erma and Erna and I can't ever remember which one she is, or describing how when I was a summer associate I accidentally-on-purpose low-fived a senior partner from another law firm at a mediation (a big No-No) which left him stunned and speechless (low-fiving not being normal in our profession apparently). 

Today I found myself missing good friends.  I was sitting in my office thinking about friends who recently moved and wishing we were going over to their house tonight for brownies and snarky talk about our favorite tv shows.  I was daydreaming about friends who moved away a year ago and who will be moving back soon, hopefully close by.  I was reminiscing about law school buddies, old college roomies, mission companions, high school friends of Paul's who I have claimed now as my own, adoption friends and family members (they're friends too, right?  They better be.  My mom will always be my best friend.  I hope Clara grows up to feel the same way about me.)

And I realized that I felt popular.  And it feels good, but I don't care about it the same way I did when I was a kid moving from town to town.  I didn't do gratitude posts throughout November, but I don't see why I can't do one now:  Today I am thankful for good friends.  I wouldn't be who I am without you and I like the person that I am and I like you.  So thanks.

Today in Highs and Lows

High:  Clara slept through the night.

Low:  I somehow still woke up feeling exhausted.

High:  Clara crawled (officially crawled, not just army-style!) halfway across the living room rug to get to ME instead of a toy.

Low:  45 minutes later I had to take her to the doctor's office to get 4 shots where she sobbed pretty much the entire visit even before the shots started because she was having anxiety about the nurse and the doctor.

High:  Clara is growing really well (15 lbs. 9.5 oz. now!) and the doctor continues to proclaim that she is perfect.  Also, when she was crying at the doctor's office she wrapped her tiny arms around my neck and clutched at my hair.

Low:  I then had to get a flu shot of my own.  Clara had no sympathy for me but did stop crying at this point.

High:  Clara napped for 2 hours while I ran errands at Target (found a super darling work shirt for $6 - will have to post a photo at some point), returned library books and audiobooks, and dropped off our Comcast cable box (we decided we don't need all the extra channels and are trying to cut back on our TV viewing anyway, plus it will save loads of moolah, which is always nice).

Low:  All I ate for lunch was leftover greenbeans from dinner last night.  guh.

High:  I got a letter back from the state of California saying they are finally going to pay me my Family & Medical Leave Act pay for the last five weeks after I wrote them an nasty explanatory letter about how their decision that I didn't qualify for the pay was wrong a couple weeks ago.  In my letter, I may have emphasized multiple times that I am a lawyer, but I doubt that mattered.

Low:  At 2:00 I had to go meet with an accountant who is helping us straighten out some issues with the IRS.  Getting audited makes me frowny.  I'm not sure if it is a full-fledge audit or what, but either way, Paul is having to dig out info from 2009 and 2010 in order to avoid having to pay more money to the government that we would rather put toward our next adoption fund.

High:  I finally caved and made the chocolate chip cookies I have been craving for two weeks now.

Low:  I finally caved and made the chocolate chip cookies I have been craving for two weeks now. 

High:  I washed three sinkloads of dishes.  Yes, they were piled all over the place and yes I was disgusted with myself.  I ate my breakfast using a plastic spoon this morning.

Low:  Ali & Roberto from The Bachelorette split up.  (Just kidding, I don't really care of about this.  But they did actually split up.)

How was your Thanksgiving week Monday?

Short notes

Dear Metabolism,

Remember how we used to be friends?  I'm not sure when we grew apart, but I have a birthday coming up next month and I would love it if you came back as a present.  I miss you.

Lovingly,
Amy

Dear 17-year-old Self,

Remember when you vowed that you would never weigh more than 120 pounds?  That was totally unrealistic.  And unhealthy.  And your body freakin' rocked even though you felt chubby.  Contrary to what you thought back then, you did not have rolls on your stomach and you looked great.  Seriously, amazing.

Your fond friend,
Amy

Dear Present Self,

I know you feel a little chubby and running hasn't been helping.  The honest truth is that you CAN go a day without cookies.  I promise.  And even though your stomach isn't flat and your jeans aren't loose around your legs, you still look pretty hot (if-i-do-say-so-myself).  Just lay off the sweets, m'kay?

XOXO,
A secret admirer

Dear Cookies, Cupcakes, Brownies, Ice Cream, and Pie,

It would really be better if we weren't on speaking terms anymore.  It's nothing personal.  But this is not just a weight thing and if I don't put an end to our seeing each other every day soon, I will become a full-blown diabetic thanks to some lousy genes and we don't want that, now do we?

Sincerely,
Amy

Dear Biggest Loser,

Every season you continue to inspire me.  Why do I get choked up while watching you?

Fondly,
Amy

Dear Treadmill,

I conquered you yesterday and you know it.  But I cowered in fear today and took Clara on a short walk outside instead while pretending it was exercise.  Tomorrow, I will own you again.  Consider yourself warned.

Yours truly,
Amy