Yowza

So...how ya been?
I'm doing okay.
Getting there.
I have a five-pound bar of chocolate.

A few weeks ago I posted a link to a Spring-themed swap I joined. Friday, my package arrived! Woot! Two Beautiful Girls Mommy was my partner (and she has a craft blog but don't go over there unless you have the time because you will want to immediately make something!). She is currently stationed in Japan with her husband. And can I just say? I love it when my partner is living in another country! Here are the goodies:


Ooooo...where do I begin? My partner explains that in Japan, lunch is very creative. They put together "bento boxes," which would bring shame to my semi-smooshed Pb&Js. So she sent the supplies to craft these super fun and cute lunches. Each child got their own lunch kit, complete with little boxes for the various dishes. Then there were cutters, molds and squishers (no, seriously! you squish a boiled egg into a mold and it makes it fabulous!), flags and picks, and even some adorable little sauce containers shaped like monkeys. Then she included Japan treats, a book her friend wrote, and a journal with some hilarious "engrish" on it.

The front cover says "Are you there? The life of every day becomes pleasant." And the back reads: "It is possible to become happy when you are on the side. The thing that such happiness continues through all eternity prays." Love it!

Boo has been reading the children's book all day and declares it to be her new favorite. Today, I made the kids lunch using the special cutters and they ate everything, even the bread crusts. Thank you, Two Beautiful Girls Mommy!

These swaps are so much fun. I have always had a great partner. And I'm still planning on hosting one of my own...just not right now. I'll warn you when it's getting close.
(Are you still interested in doing a swap?)

Don't Eat at Joe's

For Spring Break, we went camping down in Moab. Apparently, we didn't learn last year that spring camping in southern Utah is really hit-or-miss on the good weather. During the day, it was a lovely 70 degrees. But the night tipped down to the 30s. Good thing the trailer had a heater!

It was such good weather (a nice break from the snow we'd been having), that I neglected to remember the sunscreen on our first hike. I got the worst of it. Of course. Now everyone will know I was wearing a v-neck shirt.

The hiking was wonderful, the sights breath-taking, and the family well-behaved (and I'm not even being sarcastic!). It was such a great trip, that the Man suggested instead of crouching over a smokey campfire, slowly torturing hot dogs to death, we spend our last evening in a restaurant. I was in the mood for Mexican food. Both of the prominent Mexican establishments featured lots of stucco, turquoise trim, and scripted phrases touted their "authentic"-ness. We opted for the one closest to our campground: Fiesta Mexicana. (They don't have a website...shocker, I know.)

While we were being seated, I noticed the many signs prominently posted that limited drinks to one refill, no personal checks, and no split tabs. These people were serious.

The menu was vast and it was hard to narrow down the selections (because they didn't have chimichangas and that's what I always order). I opted for a House Special: fajita enchiladas.

The phrase "House Special" should have been my first clue.

The large scale to everything in that place should have been the second. They may limit you to one refill, but they give you a glass the size of a bucket. And look at Baby:


She could barely see over our super-sized table! (But I love this picture!)

So why was I so shocked when the waiter delivered this:


That's my dinner. Meant for one person, not three. It's on a pizza pan, people! A pizza pan! When was the last time you served a meal on a dish that size and didn't include half a dozen other diners?

Despite the seemingly insurmountable portions, I persevered. Not much leftover. (Of course, it helped that Baby is a bottomless pit and devoured most of my beans...) We really liked the food here (except for the Boy - he had a PB&J that I whipped up in the car before we went inside) and I will definitely beg the Man to come back next time we are in town. Besides, after all that hiking, I'll need someplace to cool off my newly acquired sunburn.

Just Shoot Me

Blogging Diva Kristina P. is having a Blog Carnival.

What's a Blog Carnival? It's where everyone uses the same topic/theme and posts on their blogs, leaving a link on the main site.

What's Kristina's theme? Glamour Shots.


That's right. Those cheesy, overly-made-up pictures that you paid way too much for in high school just to prove to yourself that underneath your average exterior, you were a smoking hot babe. Or maybe that was just me.

My parents gave me Glamour Shots for my 16th birthday. I was very, VERY excited. We went to the local mall that was currently infested with a studio and my "stylist" took over. I had a male stylist, which I thought was odd. The older lady in the chair next time mine had hair so fine that her stylist had pushed all of the hair in the back to the front with big plastic clips in order to get decent results. Meanwhile, my stylist is nearly swearing over at my massive locks and their inability to hold a curl.

Then came the photo shoot.

They had racks of shirts and wraps to choose from but my stylist picked for me (I was too overwhelmed by the choices and would have opted for whatever was sparkliest...or maybe he saw what I was wearing when I arrived and decided -- correctly -- that I had no fashion sense). Then, in the middle of the shoot, he announces that I need to wear his sunglasses for some pictures. They were some expensive brand so I was instructed to be really, really careful. Like my overly long lashes might scratch them or something. And in this particular photo, the photographer had me all posed with my arms up in my hair when he decides my zipper is too high. He glances around the studio, probably looking for my parents, and then slides the zipper down to somewhere around my belly button.

After assessing his near-defrocking, he asks "How old are you?"

When I tell him I'm sixteen, he reaches back over and zips me up a respectable height.

Afterward, I wanted to walk the mall, show off my powder-coated hotness. That was when I ran into a couple boys from my school. They grinned and said hi and then one of them asked for my name. They didn't even recognize me! I took the opportunity to haughtily inform them that I went to their school and then stormed off. That. Was. Awesome.


And I'm done. Go see the others pictures or join in on the fun!

The Difference Between Boys and Girls: Hiking

On a daily basis, I am reminded that there is a distinct difference between boys and girls. Sure, Boo likes to play video games (and can beat most of the boys in her class) and the Boy doesn't mind a good tea party, but inevitably, the differences emerge.

For instance: Spring Break. This year, we went down to Moab. We hadn't been since the Boy was a toddler so we figured we were due another round.

And on the very first hike up to Delicate Arch, it started to show.


Boo strides down the carved staircase as elegantly as royalty. The Boy decides to turn it into a slide and make the trip on his bum. It didn't quite work, but he wasn't giving up on the idea.


Next hike, the Boy immediately scales the rocky portion of the path while Boo, after watching several other kids slip and slide their way upward, opts for the traditional method.


The kids were empty out their shoes after Sand Dune Arch. Boo brushes off a few pesky grains from between her toes. The Boy dumps out his own mini dune. See that sand on the pavement? Yeah. That's all from his shoes.

Peep Wars: Attack of the Calories

It is a tradition to torture our Peeps. I say there's no good peep unless its a dead peep (or a stale one). And every year, people ask just what I mean by "Peep Wars." Well, dear Internet, this year, I took pictures.

Our fearless combatants.

Shake hands...er, wait, no hands. Hmmm...shake...sugar crystals.

Yellow took the opportunity to talk some smack to Pink, saying that Pink was a pansy.
I think Pink might have blushed a little.

Peeps, to arms!

(Toothpicks are deadly weapons when you're made of marshmallow.)

In the arena.

Tensions are running high at this point.
Flustered by Yellow's taunting, Pink is ready for the starting beep.

And the battle ensues!
Both contestants are feeling the heat now.

PINK delivers a mighty blow -- er, rather, poke!

Oh, Yellow never saw it coming. He was looking the other direction.

Oh, the HORROR!

Deflated from their efforts, both peeps are done for.

To the victor go the spoils...or in Peep Wars, the kids get the gooey stuff (but its not nearly as poetic).

Hope you enjoyed our Peep Wars. (I promise, I'm taking a photography class at the Casual Blogger Conference so hopefully, these photos will improve.)

And if you'll excuse me, I'm off to clean my microwave.

No Foolin'

So...it was April Fool's Day. And I did nothing. I didn't even tell a lame joke. Major fail on my part.

Instead of cackling with glee at the misery confusion I caused my children with little pranks all day long, I took a car trip to deliver my niece back to her mother. And then I discovered a whole new section of my personal hell by driving through one of the deadliest canyons during a near-blizzard. But at least I now have absolute faith in my abilities to correct a fishtail while facing down a semi truck.

No real post for now. And maybe not another one until I've decided whether or not I should reconsider the whole Happy Pills things.

Miss me while I'm gone (out of my mind)...