Our Free Service. Consider it our gift to you. Merry Christmas.

Do you have children on the naughty list?
Do you feel tempted to invest in a large truck full of coal for your children's stockings?
Do the seasonal words "Peace" and "Joy" sometimes feel like a joke at your house???

Well we have the solution for you.  Remember what Ben did last year?  Well since we have a different computer and I'm too lazy to transfer the movie clip from one laptop to another, you will just have to look at THIS LINK.

If you are interested in having Ben call your kids anytime before Christmas, please send an email my way.  puebar at gmail dot com.  Please include the following: phone number, time, name(s), specific misconducts, anything else you think may scare the bajeebers out of your children (i.e. what toy they are wanting and whether they are worthy of it or not). 

You may think that this is a joke.  Let me make this clear: We are very happy to do this.  For free.  In fact, after we did it a couple of times last year we enjoyed it so much that I think this may become an annual tradition. 

We look forward to doing business with you.

Sincerely,
Mr. and Mrs. Claus

Girls' Night Out!!!!

One of the things that continues to shock me is how opposite Lily and Skyler are.  It's almost like they have this secret code that says, "Hey, I'm gonna do this if you do that.  That way Mommy will never be able to satisfy us both at the same time.  Mwahaha!  We're so awesome!"  *fist bump*

But in all seriousness, it makes my life harder, and sometimes I think it makes their lives harder.  For example, Skyler would be perfectly content to spend 90% of his day in my lap, giving me hugs, kisses, and snuggles (also the occassional kiss on one of my zits because he thinks they're boo boos.)

Lil, of course, is the opposite.  I try to give her a kiss, she runs away.  I try to give her a hug, she screams, "NOOOOOO!"  I pull her into my lap to snuggle, she squirms away.  So while Skyler claims me as his territory for a good portion of the day, Lily will sit off by herself, happy to be far from us.  But she still watches as Skyler and I give each other kisses.  And that's one of the toughest things for me to experience as a mom. 

I don't want Lily to feel like I love Skyler more than her, because I don't.  I just couldn't and wouldn't.  But in the eyes of a 3 year-old, I'm sure that's what she sees.  So, in the midst of mine and Skyler's snuggle-fest, I decided Lil and I needed a Girls' Night Out  -- Lily style. 

Now GNO Heather style usually involves me going over to another friend's house with a few others and gabbing until the wee hours of the morning.  Since Lily's bedtime is 7, I knew it would be different.  Besides, I didn't think she'd be interested at all in hearing my birth stories for the 20th time as is customary at GNO's.  But it did involve chocolate.  And that, I can say, was superb.

After dinner I whispered to Lily, "Do you want to go shopping with Mommy?"  Her eyes lit up and I told her to put on her shoes.  "Shhh. Don't tell Skyler.  He's not coming.  It's just you and me." 

Lily: "SKYLER!  BYE!  I'M GOING SHOPPING!"
Me: "figures..."

Lily's 1st request: "I want to sit in Skyler's car seat."  Done.  They're practically the exact same size.  It works.
2nd:  "I want to hold your hand."  Suh-weet!
3rd:  "Let's jump over puddles."  Umm... Okay.

So I put her in the wrong car seat, held her hand, and we jumped over puddles in a packed parking lot.  We grabbed some items that I'll be needing for the parade on Saturday (expect a post about that one next week.  Assuming it doesn't kill me.)

Then we went to Wendy's to get Frosties.  I let Lily choose where we got to sit.  She placed me right next to one of those big yellow "Caution: Wet Floor" cones that was abnormally huge.  I was about two inches away from it.  Of all the empty tables in Wendy's....  We ate.  We gabbed.  We took pictures and laughed at Lily's funny faces. 

Then I put her back in Skyler's car seat and she was shaking like she had just spent an hour in a Rexburg winter without a coat.  I had to turn on the heat in the car.  It was 70 outside. 

"Turn the music up loud!!!" was request #4.  I turned it up.  And we jammed.

Then I turned it down when we got to a commercial.  Lily informed me that she was going to sing me the pony song.  So she sang her little heart out and it sounded like a mixture of a toddler song and an Irish one that someone would dance to on top of a table in a pub.  Or at least, that's what came to my mind. 

When we pulled into the garage I aksed Lily, "Do you want to have another Girls' Night Out again sometime?"  She said, "yes."  Then she looked at me and told me what she does every day, "I love you too much, Mommy."

And I love her too much, too.

Thanksgiving Thanks

Thanksgiving at my parents' was fun.

We played.

We ate lots of food.

We woke up to Skyler screaming in the middle of the night because he didn't know where he was.

We shopped.

We slept.

And we ate again.

It was a blast.

But all those things aren't what Thanksgiving is all about.

I could write a huge list of things I'm thankful for, but that's not necessary.

So here's my short list:

• Prayer: so that I can tell Heavenly Father that I recognize that I've been given more of what belongs to Him.
• Testimony: so that I know how much gratitude can change a life.
• Family: so that I have someone to be grateful with me.

The world would say, "That's pretty cheesy.  Stick to the eating/shopping/football watching."  But I remember the day I first saw the quote above and thought, "If I only got what I was grateful for last night, at least I would have all the basic essentials that would get me through life."  Although I'm pretty sure I didn't mention chocolate...

I hope y'all had a killer Thanksgiving, too.  Thank goodess we don't have to wait another 365 days to be thankful again.



Weirdness and Downspouts

At my parents' house I had two bedrooms -- the one I started out in and the one I stole from my sister, Lizzie, the day she left for college (I had spent many reading times in elementary school sketching out the design and layout I wanted in her room.  It may or may not have included a secret passageway). 

But that's not my point.  My point is that both of those rooms had something special: gurgling drains and gutters right outside their windows. 

Now I know that sounds really weird, but since I lived in that house since I was 7 I became accustomed to listening to water gurgling to lure me to sleep.  I think that that particular noise is ranked up there somewhere close to my children's laughter. 

Ben knows how much I love this noise.

So when we moved to our house a year ago, Ben gave me one of the biggest gifts he could ever give me.  He opened up our bedroom window and dented and deformed the downspout right outside our room enough so that it gurgled right. 

For a man who fixes everything -- not breaks -- this was a true act of love.

The cost to someday replace that pipe: $10

The number of nights I will go to sleep listening to water gurgling: a whole bunch

The number of days I will be amazed that Ben did that: all of them.

Thank you, Ben, for understanding my weirdness.



4 Reasons

There are several reasons why I pity people who choose not to have children.  Parenthood is crazy, but it's also so extremely awesome and worth every second.  Here are a few reasons why:

 #1: You will learn new and obvious ways to do some things.

 This is what an OCD child looks like.  We walked to the park.  Lily got sand in her shoes.  She came home and cried until she discovered she could do this to get it all off. 

 # 2:  You will get a good idea of how you look to everyone else.

I'm hoping that this is more of an Anne of Green Gables experience rather than a Gollum/Smeagol one... but I'm not so sure.  This was the conversation I overheard yesterday:

Lily:  You're in a lot of trouble.

Reflection: --

Lily:  You made a big mess!  Clean it up! 

Reflection: --

Lily:  You're not doing anything!!!

Reflection:  --

Lily:  1!!!!  2!!!!!!  3!!!!  That's it!  Go to time out!*

It's so comforting to know that this is how Lily perceives me.  Ah, the joys of being the bad guy.  

*I would like to update this with good news.  As I was writing this post, Lily and her reflection made up and played peekaboo in which Lily scared the bajeebers out of her reflection.  I'd say that their relationship has been saved.... for now.

 #3: There is a lot of satisfaction in teaching someone else how to be independent.

This is what Lily looks like when she puts panties on herself.  It's a small price to pay when I consider that she has zero accidents, night and day.

#4:  You'll be their most favorite mattress, er, stuffed animal  -- EVER.

Nope.  That one's not Lily.  But isn't he cute???  I love nap wake up time.  Skyler is the best little snuggler in the world and he needs it when he wakes up.  So we'll just watch Curious George like this until he's awake enough to play.  And he has to sleep with that llama and zebra every night.  Along with a ginormous whale, Rex from Toy Story, a stuffed dog, his blankie, Mousy (his stuffed mouse that has been his pillow for forever), and the different toy he brings up every nap/bedtime.  The kid needs his lovies, me being one of them.

You know, the time I passed out at Walmart and the lessons learned thereof

Back when I was 8 months pregnant with Lily, I had super low blood pressure issues.  Every single time I was on my feet for more than five minutes I'd black out.  It was the epitome of torture for me.  I had to do my makeup as I sat on the floor.  I had to cook dinner in spurts.  I watched TV for a better part of the day because I had very little options as to what I could do while sitting down.

One day I had had enough.  And little stubborn me decided that a quick shopping trip wouldn't be so bad.  I got in my car, drove down 2nd East to Walmart and took my time.  I loved being able to get out of my apartment.  I took too long and I started losing my vision.  I pushed my shopping cart to the middle of the women's clothing department to hide while I crouched down until I could see again.  When I felt better, I kept walking.  I lost my sight again.  Over and over I went through this cycle because I was being stubborn and telling myself that I was "strong enough" to overcome it.  I didn't realize at the time that I was just being stupid. 

It got to the point when I was able to admit to myself that I needed to check out, and fast.  I took my cart to the cashier, tried to be patient as the guy ahead of me slowly signed his name on the signature pad, and just as he was leaving and I was able to put my items on the conveyor belt I said to the cashier, "Can you hold these for me?"  She looked at me as if I was insane, and that was the last thing I remember before I passed out. 

When I woke up a few Walmart employees were around me and a woman who I recognized from the next aisle came running over to me.  She informed me that she was a labor and delivery nurse at Madison Memorial and she was wondering if I was in labor.  "Nope, I'm 8 months pregnant.  I just passed out is all."  She squatted down next to me and started asking me a bunch of questions and propped my feet up on my shopping cart while another Walmart employee put a plastic covered pillow under my head.  Yep.  It was fabulous.  8 month pregnant me lying down in the check out aisle with my legs up in the air.  It's probably just how you imagine it.  I was sipping on the bottle of orange juice she pulled out of the nearby refrigerator when I said, "I'm feeling a lot better now.  I think I'm going to check out."  She gave me that "over my dead body" look and told me to call Ben.  I hadn't even thought of it. 

So I called him up, told him of my present circumstances, and even though he was working at the time he said he was on his way.  A coworker dropped him off at Walmart and Ben took me home.

What I didn't mention was that Ben was being paid hourly and we needed the money.  I also vividly remember him being covered in mud since he was working for Rexburg's water department and he was constantly fixing pipes in the ground. 

But none of that mattered.  I made a mistake and Ben was there to pull me out of it.  I've made a lot of mistakes since then, and Ben has been there to pull me out of them.  In turn, Ben has made his share of mistakes, and I've been there to pull him out of them.  The cycle goes on and on and on. 

I'm sure you've all heard that "Disney movies gave me unrealistic expectations about love."  For me, that's true.  I expected something else entirely when I got married, but little by little, I get to see more of why this whole marriage thing is so important for growth, especially when it's not perfect.  When I count my blessings now, I count the trials that sit there beside them making those blessings possible.  Ben and I have been through a thick, muddy path of trials, many of which aren't on this blog because who wants to read about all the mistakes someone has made?  Not me. 

Sometimes I sit back and wonder what it would be like to marry someone perfect.  The answer is this: it would be the epitome of torture.  Like, worse than when I was stuck on the couch.  I would be so embarrassed every time I made a mistake.  I would always be looking over my shoulder every time I repeat a bad habit.  I don't think I'd be very happy.  I'm just glad to have Ben who doesn't mind putting on weight with me and splurging money on something we probably shouldn't be spending it on.  So kudos to all y'all who don't have perfect spouses. I don't either, and I'm not one myself. And that in itself is a very beautiful thing.

Writing

These pictures have absolutely NOTHING to do with this post.  I would just like to record that Halloween did indeed happen here.  Plus blog posts are always nicer when they have pictures to accompany them, true?

*Major shout out to my super fabulous SIL April who invented the "Drill Your Pumpkin To Death To Make It The Coolest Pumpkin On The Block" method.  Thanks for letting me steal your idea.  I wasn't kidding last year when I said I'd actually do it.  Also mad props to Ben for carving the witch with clouds behind her with nothing but his imagination to guide him.  He has quite the set of skills, too.

Lily was a princess.  Skyler was Buzz Lightyear.  For a pic of him scroll a few blog posts down.


I always knew I was weird in college when I would secretly clap my hands when my teacher would assign us a paper that we needed to write.  All the other students would groan and I would put on my own fake disappointed face and then I'd dash home, clear off my desk, and start typing.  It was actually fun for me, even if I was researching all the grim details of how bad diet soda and artificial sweeteners are for the human body.

I shouldn't have majored in Elementary Education, but I definitely don't regret doing it.  I think that that choice has been ridiculously helpful to me in the motherhood department.  But if I could go back in time Napoleon Dynamite style ("You forgot the crystals") I would have majored in English.  Because of, you know, my book.  But sometimes God intervenes and early on in my college career I got married and then became pregnant which made me opt to take all 5 billion of my English credits (resting on a couch with a big novel sounded like better pregnancy work than running a couple of miles out in the snow for a gym class while toting an eight pound beach ball in front).  I'm not so sure that the only reason why I was pregnant at that time was to pop out my adorable daughter.  I think that my classes at the time helped me get to the point that I'm at now in my writing, though I still have a long way to go before I would consider myself to be anywhere near the "publishable" level I hope to be at someday. 

One of the questions I get all the time is, "Why do you update your blog so much?"  I know that for a lot of people it's boring or just one of those things that they'll do later or they're just so dang busy that blogging is sporadic.  Not for me.  I blog when I'm avoiding my book because I'm stuck in a rut but I need to satisfy my writing itch.  So if I post 5 times in a week that means I'm having a bad book week but if I post once a week I'm lost in a future world with people I've created who are trying to fight through the life I've given them. 

I never would have guessed how time consuming this whole "hobby" has become.  I listen to writing podcasts when I fold clothes.  I scheme twists in the plot when I shower.  I try to give my characters voice when I have insomnia.  I write while Ben fixes up his motorcycle and I write while the kiddos sleep.  I write when I eat lunch and I write when the kids are watching a movie.  Is it sad that I find more excitement from writing 1500 words than watching an action packed movie?

One day I hope I'll have enough courage to share my writing with someone.  For now, only Ben knows little bits and pieces of what's happening in my own little fictional world but someday, SOMEDAY, I hope that you, too, will read it.  Because I'm pretty sure this is something that no one will expect from me, I don't think people usually look at me and say, "Oh that girl totally looks like she could write Sci-Fi."  I feel like a Barbie invading G.I. Joe territory. 

So from the bottom of my heart, thank you blog readers who faithfully come back to read my ramblings and actually comment.  As conceited as it sounds, the comments really do boost me up and make me think that maybe someone else gets what I'm trying to express.  In my dreams, I hope to be an official author, but the odds of that are smaller than small.  BUT, if it does happen, you will all be my first readers.  And for that, I can't thank you enough.