Church, Our Weekly Dose of Torture

It begins before we even step foot inside the church. I really thought this morning we would be in good shape because I was up, kids were fed and getting in the tub at 10. Church is at 11:30 so we had 1 hour and 20 minutes to get it together.

John is awake and we were on a roll. Shrieks from the bathtub pierce my ears. "Jonas! Stop beating your sister with the mermaid Barbie!" "Kate! You have to let him have some of the toys. You can't hog all 75 tub toys!" Putting on make-up, getting hit in the leg by a flying yellow duck, we still aren't doing so bad. John baths the kids and I get my hair done.

Kate's turn to get dressed. "I want to wear my purple Daphne shoes."

"No!

Whiny, "But why? I want to!" Cry, cry, whine whine.

"They don't match, they are dirty and they stink! Put your church shoes on!"

"I want da. . . "

"I don't care, put these on before I kick your Daphne hiney!"

It is 11:20. Kids both ready, Mom ready, church bag weighing approx. 500 lbs almost ready. Walk into kitchen. Hubby eating breakfast, shirt on, pants on, no socks, no tie, no shoes, no shave. What?!? Wife explodes.

Go put kids in car while hubby finishes getting ready. Jonas turns into an unbendable, kicking, grunting octopus as I try to shove him in the car seat and get him buckled. Kate climbs all over the car, anywhere but her seat. "Get in your car seat and buckle yourself this instant!!!!" My eyes squinty. Is that a smoke starting to curl from my ears?

Arrive at church in time for sacrament. In our world that is on time, but we have to sit in the cultural hall, so far back we are up against the stage. I can barely make out the pulpit from this distance.

Jonas starts to run away. I grab onto his arm to prevent him from escaping. He is okay with this for a little while then he begins to lean. If I let go he will crash to the ground, smack his head and begin screaming so I let him down to the floor gently. He gets up, I grab his arm again. Soon he realizes that while he is still lying on the ground he can scoot away from me. Then when he stands up he will be out of my reach and can run like lighting.

This entire time Kate is trying to climb in my lap, play with my jewelry, rub my hair, grind her sharp chin into my sternum, and make me read to her.

I give up. I take Jonas out where I have to chase him in the halls and keep him from running back into the chapel.

A few minutes later, John joins me with Kate.

Finally Sacrament meeting is over. Hooray for Primary! After we drop the kids off we look in each others haggard faces. "So, how about we just leave the kids and go to Sonic instead of Gospel Doctrine. I need a Diet Coke!" I suggest. We seriously consider it and then drag ourselves back into the chapel.

Don't remember much about the GD lesson I was still decompressing..

The relief society lesson was on being reverent and keeping the proper spirit during Sacrament meeting. One of the quotes in the lesson honestly said something about it being better to sleep during the meeting than to read the Ensign because the sound of turning pages might disrupt those around you. Umm Yeah right! Like you can hear magazine pages turning over the sounds of all the families just like mine barely keeping it together.

And why do we keep going? Because Kate learned about Daniel and the Lion's Den and about how Jesus is magic. And geeze life would be difficult without faith, eternal families, a loving God and Savior.

Confession

I admit it. I hate living here! I have tried to be positive, and it will get better when we meet some people, and wow, the weather is great. It sucks. There are no trees and I am sick of having no friends and I want to go home.

Me Mum's Scarf

I got this swell idea in November to knit scarves for Christmas gifts. I only finished one for me mum.

This year I am starting early. I am in the middle of two now! Okay, so one is just so damn cute I can't part with it, but hopefully by December I will have a some to give away and not a whole pile of them for me!

Oh, and if you say I am crafty I will sock you in the nose. I am not Crafty!

I am a Baker! I Bake!

While my mom was at my house she threatened to take one of my Christmas presents away. It was a big, beautiful book on baking (try and say that 3 times fast). Her reasons for this were as follows:

1. When I pulled out my Kitchen Aide to make Christmas cookies it had cobwebs in it.

2. I had none of the basic baking ingredients on hand, no shortening, no brown sugar, only 2 cups of regular sugar. Hey at least I had flour!

3. Each time my mom got frustrated, I replied, "Hey! I don't bake!"

The reasons I don't bake are:

1. Baking = high fat, high sugar, no nutrition. If it isn't those things it is gagga magga!

2. If there is a pan of brownies in my house, I have to eat it, all of it, and I am not happy until it is gone!

3. Not really all that skilled. I understand cooking, spices, ways to thicken things, substitutions that work. Baking - - not so much. I don't understand why things will raise or go flat or how a batter should look to achieve desired results.

So, I decided to get over my irrational fears. If I bake once in a while it is not going to kill me, and if I don't do it I will never learn the skills, and the things in that book look really good.

I am now going to bake on Sundays. This Sunday I made Cherry Pie.

And here is the recipe:

1. Go to the freezer and get Marie Callender's frozen cherry pie. (The brand is important. Marie is the only one who can make a decent cherry!)

2. Take the pie out of the box, remove the plastic, and put it on a cookie sheet. If you don't remove the plastic, you will be really disappointed.

3. Read the directions on the box. Turn on the oven. Honestly, who has the foresight to pre-heat?

4. Pop that baby in the oven and bake.

Serve with vanilla ice cream on top.

Not Sure a Cat is a Good Pet for Toddlers

Sometimes I am amazed that Kitty even steps foot inside our house. Kate likes to pin her, trap her, and squish her in an effort to "play" with her. Carry her around by her neck, drag her along the floor by her collar, attach various belts and ties to her collar. Good Grief! It is not surprising that Kate is usually sporting several cat scratches on her arms and sometimes face.

Yesterday Kate had to stand in the corner for 10 minutes and lost 2 Scooby Doo videos after she clipped a strap from her dance bag to the cat and then to a binky, pinned the cat under her bed, and the final straw was when I went in her room and the cat was locked inside the oven of her new toy kitchen set. Mmmm Kitty Caserole! I am sure Kate would be happy to give you the recipe.

I guess it isn't as bad as John's cousin's kids who gave their cat a bath with vaseline. The cat and I should be grateful I guess.