Mission-agin (with a hard "g")

My little bro, Ben (or, "Benjamin Bunny Boy", as we lovingly still call him), used to call Michigan "mission-agin". I'm not sure exactly how he came up with that pronunciation, but I think it had something to do with my oldest brother being on a mission when Ben was learning how to talk.

I have waaaaay too many pictures from Michigan. I won't post them all, even though it's tempting. I'm fairly certain Megan is in every single picture. I know I'm obsessed. I know every stinkin' post is about Megan. But, I don't care. That's just the way it is! Honestly, I really don't think about anything except what I'm making for dinner, and how cute Megan is.

In a nutshell, it was great to be in Michigan! Megan was incredible on the planes, of course. Everyone we sat by on both flights commented on how good she was. I was very grateful for the baby carrier I brought with me, because it was the only way I could get Megan to fall asleep on the plane- strapped to my front with her arms stuffed inside the carrier. Granted, she only slept for an hour the whole day, but at least she did sleep.

Instead of explaining everything we did in Mission-ah-ginn, I'll just post a few memorable moments with pictures and captions: (but not 100 pictures; just 11.)

This is Megan with her St. Patrick's Day outfit on. She is such a little cutie-wootie! Also, Megan was in love with the plant behind her. Anytime she got near it, she would grab it like it was the last bottle on earth. My mom was even worried that Megan would tear it apart!

This is Megan in her St. Patty's outfit, with St. Patty's stickers on her face. The stickers were from Grandma Paulson, though I don't think Grandma intended for them to end up on her face. Better on her face than in her face, right? I love that she just sits there and lets me do anything I want with her.


On St. Patrick's Day, my friend Kimberly (aka Kimmie Jo, Kim, Kimmie, KJ-squared) came over. We went out for beer. Just kidding; we went out to TCBY and talked for about 3 hours. It was so fun! I love how, with your best friends, you can talk for hours when you haven't talked for months, and it's like nothing ever changed. The pose in the picture has special meaning, but I won't tell you what it is.

This is Megan in the exersaucer (which she LOVED) conversing with Ben's Taco Bell dog. The dog had a button, that when pushed, said in things like "I think I'm in Love" and "Can't this boat go any faster?" Everything was said in the Taco Bell Dog voice. I thought it was hilarious. I can't lie.


This is Megan with her cousin Isaac, who lives in Cincinatti. My brother Colter, his wife Kelly, and their 5 boys, drove up to Troy to see us! We felt so special and I was so happy they came. (Notice in the picture that Megan has her hand in Isaac's mouth. Apparently she wanted to share her tasty fingers. Yum!)

When people would come over to see Megan, my mother would strip her down to her diaper to show her off. My mom is convinced that you haven't lived until you've held a chocolate baby. I totally agree with that statement. Also, this picture makes me laugh, because we put Megan in this chair to take a picture, and she held up her left leg and placed her hand on it to pose for us. She kept it in this position for about 10 minutes straight, and I'm not exaggerating! It was sooooooo hilarious! We were all laughing our pants off, and Megan actually had her pants off! Poor baby...


This is Aunt Kelly & Uncle Colter enjoying some Megan Time. Megan sure loved that exersaucer. We're tempted to get one for her, but we don't really have a place to put it. I suppose it'll have to be a Grandma-&-Grandpa's-House-novelty.

These are Colter & Kelly's other 4 boys, enjoying a bowl of popcorn. Aren't they handsome boys? Megan didn't want to look at the camera because she was too interested in the popcorn.

This is Grandma P. playing with Megan. My mother loves babies like nobody you've ever seen. If babies really were made in a factory, you can bet my mother would be CEO.

This is Megan chillin' with Uncle Ben. Don't you like how they are posing the same? We didn't even plan that one! Uncle Ben had a lot of fun wiping Megan's drool off of his homework.

And, lastly (and only "lastly" because this was taken the last day we were there), this is Megan with G & G Paulson. Megan really loved my dad's moustache. Just sayin'.
One more note: On our way back to Utah, we were stuck in the Denver airport. There was a crazy snowstorm and the planes couldn't be iced off before they would ice over again. Our flight was supposed to leave Denver at 7:00, after a 2-hour layover. We finally boarded the plane at 9:00, only to stay on the runway for another 2 hours before taking off. When we got to Salt Lake at 12:30 am, they had lost our luggage, which they finally found- still in Detroit. Unfortunately, that luggage included our car seat, and the airline had run out of car seats we could borrow. They finally found one, after searching for a long time. We didn't get home until 2:30 am.

Extra side-note: Megan is the most amazing baby in the entire world. You can never talk me out of that statement. You see, on the day we flew home, she only slept one hour from 11am-9pm (she normally would have slept 7 or 8 hours during that time). Yet, she never complained, or even cried. She just sat in her umbrella stroller. She just looked around and sat there. Amazing. A-MAZE-ING. Again, everyone around me commented on what a good baby she is. Two ladies even said she looked just like a little doll. Just sitting' there all cute & adorable-like.

That'll do, donkey. That'll do.

Pet Peeve-ilicious

Pet Peeve. Who decided that if something annoys you more than it should, it's called a "Pet Peeve"? Did someone have a pet dog named Peeve that they found very annoying, and they coined the term? I'm sure if I looked it up on Wikipedia I could find out for sure (because we all know Wikipedia is the place of all correct information).

Um, okay. I just looked it up.

It's first usage was around 1919. The term is a back-formation from the 14th-century word 'peevish,' meaning ornery or ill-tempered.

So there you have it. But I digress.

I have always been 'peeved' when businesses misspell words, use incorrect phrasing or punctuation, or butcher sentence structure. Drives me crazy! Come on, people! You're not writing in your journal, or an e-mail, or a blog post! You're a business!! Whether it's in a memo to the employees or in a sign on the door, just get it right! For the love, people: PROOFREAD!

How hard is it to hire someone who just happens to have a degree in English, or someone who has excellent writing skills? Isn't that important to you? Isn't it important for you to have a good image to anyone who might stumble upon your business? Everything your clients (or potential clients) read is a reflection upon the merit of your company!

Case in point:

Jared & I went to an undisclosed resaturant for a celebration recently. At this Italian restaurant, where they advertise endless-soup,-salad,-and-breadsticks (which company I refuse to name), we took our meals to go. When we came home, we found this printed on the bottom of the take-out container:

(In case the picture isn't working for you, it says "Microwavable Safe")

Are you kidding me? Did the executives of this restaurant graduate from High School? Do they know how to speak? Obviously, the big-wigs didn't print that on the bottom of the container, but I'll bet they okay'd it! Or, they delegated the intelligent task of writing two words to a recent 8th-grade graduate. HELLO!

The other thing that peeves me about this is, haven't they noticed their mistake? I assume that our 2 take-out containers were not the first two take-out containers to ever leave their establishment. Hasn't anyone noticed? If they haven't, they're retarted, and if they have noticed, they should have done something about it!

Now, I realize it's possible they already found the mistake and are in the process of fixing it. But, in the meanwhile, nit-picky people like me are going to look at that container and think less of them.

Not that it's going to keep me from going back to Olive Garden that restaurant.

(Oh- feel free to go threw my post and correcxt my mistakes. I didn't proffread it. But, then again, it's just a blogg.(

That darn wind

A couple Thursday nights ago, I seriously thought the wind was going to blow our house down. I kid you not. I do not exaggerate. In my head, I pictured Megan's window breaking apart, and her little body being sucked out the window and thrown into who-knows-what. I had a game plan in my head of exactly what I would do if certain things happened, and even contemplated moving her into our room. When I mentioned my worries to Jared, he simply replied, "The windows are fine. If the windows couldn't withstand the wind, the window companies would be sued all the time."

Why can't I just think of that?

Thankful for a level-headed husband, I said (another) quick prayer for little Megan and went to bed. I was sure I would wake up in Kansas.

The next morning, I picked up a wheelbarrow-full of shingles off the front lawn. Keep in mind, our house is only 10 years old; shingles should NOT have been flying off. Here are just a few lying on the grass:

We had a couple roofers come over to do bids on our roof. One bid $150 more than the other, which I thought was interesting. Anyway, our friend Eric came by and said he used to "roof" (as in the occupation, not as in the dog-sound), and that he'd get up on our roof to help us. We decided to do the job ourselves and save a bundle of cash.

Last week, here were 3 neighborhood guys trying to fix the roof (Jared included):

They labored for a while, and then called over 4 more guys (but I don't have a picture of that... sorry).

After several hours of getting nowhere, we decided it was better to have a professional do it. We called back our lowest bid and he came and fixed it. All by himself. Just ONE guy. (but he's been doing it for 20 years, so we didn't really feel bad).

Fixing a roof is like throwing your money in the garbage, but instead of a nasty smell, you just get some new shingles on your roof which shouldn't have had to be put on.

Uh, yeah. Sorry if this wasn't very interesting. I just wanted to remember what a pain it was.

Why Piano Recitals are Carrot Cake

I used to be a music teacher. Well, I suppose I still am, because I teach piano lessons to 14 "extremely lucky-to-have-such-a-wonderful-teacher" students. I just put on my 3rd piano recital this past Friday.

I remember my piano recitals as a kid. I started taking lessons when I was in kindergarten (I think) and hated memorizing my pieces. I hated dressing up and going to that funny church and waiting my turn to pee my pants at the piano. It was horrible, awful misery. Yet, for some reason, I now make all my poor students do the same thing. That must be the essence of hypocrisy. Hm... am I a hyprocrite? Naw, I'm just a piano teacher, doing her duty as one-who-puts-on-recitals. Doing her duty as one-who-makes-sure-the-parents-know-their-kids-are-actually-learning-something. Doing her duty by proving-that-I'm-a-real-piano-teacher-because-I-make-my-students-memorize-songs-and-play-in-recitals. After all, it would decrease my validity as a teacher if I did not put on these horrible recitals.


As horrible as the recitals are for my students, they are a Piece of Cake for me. Maybe they wouldn't be a Piece of Cake for everyone, but for me, they're really a piece of carrot cake. Here's why.

When I compare my musical teaching life now to what my musical teaching life was like when I was a "music teacher" (at Freedom Academy), I'm livin' the high life. Instead of teaching 25 kids at a time, I teach one. Instead of teaching 625 students every week, I teach fourteen. Instead of communicating with 600 sets of parents, I communicate with seven (because I have sibling groups). Instead of spending my weekend preparing lessons and choir rehearsals, I spend my weekends enjoying myself. When it comes time for a performance, instead of setting up the stage and 200 chairs, I set up the Relief Society Room at our church. Instead of standing up at the front and conducting all the children while they sing, I sit at the back and let the kiddos do all the work.

Yeah, being a school music teacher was extremely rewarding, but a hecka-lotta work. Being a piano teacher is a Piece of Cake, comparatively.

But, I'm still not sure I want to do it forever.