Northern Exposure

You know, I really shouldn't be sitting here at the computer. But geez louise. Do you ever have those days when you just cannot get motivated? Miles has croup and we can't really go anywhere. So instead of staying home and being productive (a.k.a. cleaning MY room which is a mess - the rest of the house is almost impeccable *gasp*), I am sitting here. The kids have been out on the deck for a good chunk of the day so they're not even requiring much of me. I need to just GET UP already. But just when I thought I would I realized I hadn't blogged the recent Iowa Kilgore Invasion yet! So here I sit some more.:)

*Warning...there is not a single picture of my brother Jerry, or my SIL, Sara. Apparently I really, really, really love my nieces and nephew a lot more. Though, due to this tunnel vision I am sad to say there are NO PICTURES of "Side Pony Night" which occurred last Friday and consisted of Sara sporting a side-pony that was then duplicated by all the other girls (with hair) in the house. My apologies. I was laughing too hard to think about my camera.

Apparently this is how Owen sleeps every night. He's the perfect Kilgore/Blanchard mix.

This is what Taylor and Lydia did whenever they had a free moment.

Lydia on the park Gaby on the park Miles and Owen LOVED each other. Owen and Sophia? Not so much. Owen referred to Sophie exclusively as, "The Baby." Usually said with a pretty fierce scowl - which was usually a reflection of the scowl Sophie was giving him.

You can take the teenager out of the kid but you can't take the kid out of the teenager.  Lydia found Chase's Russian chess board. And proceeded to skewl Taylor every chance she got. Twilight came out on DVD right before the crew got here. So of course we had to watch it! Jerry joined us (HAH!) and we all had fun cracking jokes at the silly one-liners. As a result we made Twilight-themed cups (everyone knows that when you have Kilgores visiting you have to buy plastic cups and label them, right?). Sara and Jerry got "Stupid Lamb," and "Sick, Masochistic Lion."

After repeatedly referring to Rob Pattinson as "Edward smacked-in-the-face-with-a-frying-pan Cullen" Sara came up with the more brief, "La Push Face." And thus Taylor's cup was born.

Mine: "Chase's Personal Brand of Heroin." As it turns out this turned out to be a PG-13 rated cup. I sat at the dinner table with it and when Lydia asked me to turn it so she could read it I realized that maybe it was more appropriate for an older crowd:)

Owen a.k.a. sCareBear. Owen accessorized this costume with a couple of swords. Sara wanted to put a big red circle with a slash through it (what the heck is that symbol called, Chrysta - you know, like in Ghostbusters?!) over the rainbow. sCareBear indeed.

  This was NOT a costume. This is pure Taylor.

Lydia made this super sweet nature doll for me. That girl is awesome.

Taylor standing on a rock in the middle of the nature preserve parking lot. I managed to make it look like she climbed Mt. Kilamanjaro (or at least Governor Dick? - and you have to be from Pee-Yay to know what Governor Dick is...)

Pretty Princesses.

 

So overall the trip was SO FUN. The weather stank but that just meant that we got to stay home in our pj's. We shopped a little, ate a lot, laughed a ton. I wish we could do this EVERY WEEK...

Have I ever mentioned that I heart my family? I'm a big fan.

Dear Letter-Writing-Blog-Style. I hate you. The End.

As a member of the blogging community (a.k.a. the human race) I often see trends in blogs. I read a lot of blogs and most of them are not necessarily connected to one another aside from the fact that their html address ends in "blogspot.com". Trends in blogs are just like trends in fashion - it's impossible to stop some of them once they get started. And as the Trendy McTrendster that you all know I am I have taken part in my fair share of them. Some are okay, some are just "meh", and some are downright annoying. And right now I'm annoyed. Like, "Surprise! Screech from Saved By The Bell is moving in!" annoyed. The object of my annoyance? A little thing I like to call the Letter Writing Blog.

HOLY SHAMWOW THIS THING IS SO OVERDONE IT'S LIKE A TURKEY YOU PUT IN ON THANKSGIVING DAY ONLY TO FIND OUT ON EASTER MORNING THAT IT'S STILL OCCUPYING YOUR OVEN.

If you aren't familiar with the Letter Writing Blog it usually goes a little something like this:

Dear (insert inane object of love/hate...like asparagus or Dawson's Creek),

We used to have such great times together but now I think it's time that I move on/get over you. You were always there for me when I needed you (blah, blah, blah insert additional ridiculous nonsense that you think sounds funny because - ha ha - you are SO clever to have thought of this blog style to represent your feelings about aforementioned object. Feel free to wax poetic about how that subscription to Seventeen Magazine was really so beneficial at the time but now that you've grown up you really think Jane is much more age-appropriate.)

So (stupid object), I bid you ado (never mind that it's spelled adieu. No one reads your blog - they're just there for the pictures). I hope that you can find fulfillment/happiness/joy in your journey/life/sojourn.

Sincerely,
Mindless Automaton Blogger

And here is where I yell "ARGH!" and then smack my computer. Is it just me? Am I really the only one who feels like these blogs are the digital equivalent of polyester leisure suits? I'll admit, when it first started it was kinda cute. I may have even done one waaaaaaaay back in '06 (you'd have to check because I'm too lazy to bother - so it either did or didn't happen, I'm not sure). Some people actually do a good job of it. I saw Kristin Armstrong do it on her runnersworld.com blog. I saw a Fugly (fellow ugly mom) do it somewhat recently. But COME ON, PEOPLE! At this point EVERYONE thinks they're being original...just as original as Suzy down the street who did it last week.

So, Dear Letter Writing Blog Style,

Your time in the blog spotlight was like, so rad, you know? It, like, totally rocked and was da bomb, for sure! I mean, everyone was totally into you and you made us all feel so clever. And, like, there are definitely some people who, like, NEEDED that bloggy-boost you gave them. But I think the time has come for us to go our separate ways and just be friends. Mmmmkay?

Don't call me. I'll call you.

March Madness

As I was scrubbing, scraping and painting over the last couple of weeks in preparation for visitors I kept thinking that normal people don't have to do this. And by "this" I'm referring to the intense amount of work required to make up for the state into which my house has fallen.

My house has been bebusyseasoned. It's like being bedazzled but with the opposite effect. Whereas bedazzling usually creates a more, uh, beautiful result, bebusyseasoning almost always ends with things being splattered on the walls, home projects going half-finished, and cobwebs collecting in corners for months at a time.

My day-to-day routine usually involves cleaning and tidying. Deep cleaning is saved for the weekend when I can pass the kids off to Chase and get some stuff done without it being immediately undone before I'm even finished. During busy season, however, this routine is replaced with the, "Oh my goodness. Let's just shove this in a drawer and try to survive because you're crazy, I'm crazy and none of us has seen your father in 7,463 days" routine. It's my own personal version of March Madness.

And what the heck is with the mess anyway? I mean, they are three small children and I am one full (some may even say over) grown adult! What is the deal? How do they create such monstrosities?! And why are my powers so useless against them? Perhaps it is some strange theory of overcompensation. Like how short men always drive enormous trucks. Maybe my kids are trying to make up for their size by showcasing the largesse of their capacity for disaster. Who knows. I'm stumped. And tired. I'm Stired. And to prove just how stired I am I'm going to hit "publish" and walk away because I don't even care anymore that this is the most ridiculous and time-wasting blog ever created in the history of the world and that I am ending it with one of the longest run-on sentences in the history of blogging and for the fun of it I might even throw in a misused homonym or word just four kicks and giggles and because eye no it will piss of Chrysta two know end.

I love to see the Temple...

This is where my husband and I were married.

This is the Washington DC temple. I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

Temples are literally houses of the Lord. They are holy places of worship where individuals make sacred covenants with God. Because making covenants with God is such a solemn responsibility, individuals cannot enter the temple to receive their endowments or be sealed in marriage for eternity until they have fully prepared themselves and been members of the Church for at least a year. Throughout history, the Lord has commanded His people to build temples. The Church is working to build temples all over the world to make temple blessings more available for a greater number of Heavenly Father's children. (from lds.org)

To find out more please go to this site.

Convo's with Camo

Cam: "Dad, what does L-E-N spell?"

Chase: "Well, um, it spells len. But len isn't really a word."

Cam: (very indignant) "NO Dad! It spells alien! L. E. N. Alien!!!!!!"

 

Cam: (after eating a fluffernutter sandwich) "Mom, how do you make marshmallows?"

Me: "I'm not really sure, Cam."

Cam: "I know, let's go to the store and get some Mar and then we'll get some Shmallow (pronounced shm-eh-wo) and make marshmallows!"

It's not me, it's you.

Now, I don't need to spell this out for you, but I will anyway. I'm not exactly known for my sense of fashion. I try to at least put myself together once a week for church and I've been known to throw on some earrings when I go pick up Cameron from preschool (the other kids moms are HAWT), but aside from that I'm a jeans and t-shirt kind of gal. And usually my jeans are too tight and my shirt has shrunken and no longer fits my freakishly long torso. But despite all of this, I really like fashion; I'm just a bit of a neophyte.

Writing, however, is something I know. I don't have a ton of tolerance for poor writing (one more reason the whole Stephenie Meyer obsession is a total anomaly). I may not be super amazing at it, but I try to hold my own; and I think I've got a pretty good eye for what's good and what's less so.

SO, when I found THIS blog I just about toppled over with joyness and happitude. This blog is all about fashion, yes. Add to that the fact that it's extremely well-written. But that's not all, folks. This sucker is cherry-topped with sarcasm so biting I find myself looking for teeth marks. LOVE. THIS. BLOG. Why are you even wasting time here?! Go. Go my beloved blog readers. Go and be happy.

I just want you to know, it's NOT your fault.