Sun Devil

I'm officially a Sun Devil. That's right, sweet chicas; I'm going back to school on 1-19-10. Can you even believe it?

I'm nervous. Nervous like when I had my first real kiss or when I had to sing the National Anthem at my high school's track meet. Nervous like the first time I got pulled over for speeding. "My dad is going to K-I-L-L me!" I cried to the cop. My dad didn't kill me. I think it was because my eyes were swelled-shut from blubbering all the way home.

Tonight, as I loaded the dishwasher, I turned to mi Amor and said, tears starting to brim, "Do you think I can do it? Get my master's degree? Be real with me. Seriously. I don't want to fail, and then waste all our money in the process."

You know what he said? He said, "There's no doubt in my mind that you can do it."

I'm taking his word for it; and he'd better be right.

Now the question I have for you right now is: Do you think I should show my ASU Sun Devil spirit by redecorating our bedroom like the above posted picture. Too extreme?

It's All a Blur

That's me, on the left, doing my thang at a Nordstrom trunk show. The picture was taken two years ago, and it's the only tangible memory I have from doing the show. When I downloaded the picture, I was bummed that it turned out so blurry. I knew I'd have to squint to see all the hours I had spent on making those hair accessories.

I look at this picture every now and again, and for some reason this thought always comes to mind: Don't waste time on things that profit you little or nothing. My little tryst with Nordstrom wasn't unprofitable or a waste of time, but all the trunk shows took place during the holidays. As you could imagine, I was already up to my eyeballs with other holiday responsibilities and adding four trunk shows into the mix wasn't easy--at all.

I was a SWAMP WITCH from November 1st until January 1st. I cried and yelled more times than I care to share, and my kids got used to saying, "We won't bother you while you're making clips." I was making clips for three months straight, so they didn't have a mother until Christmas day.

Was it worth it?

Yes and no.

I'll always be glad to have the accomplishment. But every time my kids look at that picture, they say, "Remember all those clips?" It's a loaded question, so I always leave it alone, unanswered.

P.S. The girl standing next to me is the Kids' Wear manager. I got to know her really well, so well, in fact, I ended up giving her a BOM. While standing in between the kids' clothes and cases of Dior sunglasses, I bore my testimony about Joseph Smith and the restoration of the gospel. It was gutsy of me, I know.

So my point is: Maybe it was all worth it, just for that one little part.

P.P.S Behaving like a swamp witch is never justifiable, right?

Choppin' Broccoli

I laughed like crazy when I read my homie's essay, "My Least Favorite Food." He's such a lover of anything that will clog his arteries: bacon, sausage, chips, processed cheese food, logs of butter. I can never get enough fruits and veggies into his diet, so I wasn't surprised to read his loathing for anything green.

For your entertainment:

My Least Favorite Food

My least favorite food is broccoli. I think they should invent a broccoli deflector. Literally, it's that bad. It's super nasty, and I barfed the first time I had it. It looks like a rotten tree. It is horribly rotten and do you know what the color of poison is? GREEN! So I'm never eating broccoli again. I would rather race around the world than eat broccoli. If it were alive it would be hideous and taste hideous. So that's why I hate evil broccoli.

The End

P.S. I hope he goes on a mission to Taiwan. After he has a serving of chicken claw stew (talons and all), he'll never turn his back on broccoli again. Never.

Handel It.

I grew up listening to this version of Handel's Messiah. I love it more than a chocolate bar or a bowl of rocky road. I dare say it's one of my all time favorite things. Yesterday, on my way to picking up the kids from school, I blasted track 7, "And He Shall Purify." I sang along like I was the first chair soprano in the Mo Tab. (I know there's really no such thing, right?) I could only sing to about the middle of the song. Then I had to windshield wipe the tears from my face. Christmas isn't Christmas without a lot of, "And He shall reign for ever and ever..." You feelin' me?

P.S. Did you know Frederick Handel was down in the dumps financially and mentally when he composed Messiah? It only took him 24 days to complete the entire score. Amazing. That's what mi madre told me, anyway, and she's right 110% of the time.

Sacagawea

The other night I was dead-dog tired. And you know, when the mama is dead-dog tired, the demands begin to swarm like gnats on a hot summer's day. It's God's way of teaching us patience and long-suffering.

After three hours of homework (seriously), an hour of piano practice, cooking dinner, and bath time, I was D-O-N-E. The afternoon had quickly turned to night, and I could hardly wait for 8:30 to flash on our microwave's digital clock.

"It's time for bed, people." I clapped and hollered as I marched up the hallway to check what was going on in the brightly lit bathroom. My homies had been in there, fonching around, for the last ten minutes. I turned the corner, surprised to find wads of toilet paper, dotted with blood, scattered across the bathroom counter.

"My tooth came out." Sam said, turning to show me the blood pumping from his back molar.

"Awesome, Bud. Go to bed." I said, patting him on the back.

"The Tooth Fairy will come tonight. That tooth was hard to get out, Mom."

"I bet it was, Bud. Bed." I said, like a broken record.

Here's the thing: The Tooth Fairy and I were out of cold, hard cash. We were also exhausted to the max. That's why we decided on using the Sacagawea I had found in the dryer the day before. Sue me, and kick me down the street. I now realize that the Tooth Fairy and I stink like toe jam. The old, dirty coin was a heartless and lazy gift. I get it.

I busted a gut when I found Sam's written response to the Tooth Fairy, which was left on his bedroom floor, next to his bed:

Dear Tooth Fairy,

I was expecting more of a gift. I am not trying to be rude but I think you could put a little more efort into that (Not trying to be rude).

Love,

Sam

The story gets more pathetic. I loved the note so much, I stuffed it into my underwear drawer. I wanted to save it forever. Later that day, Sam found it and asked, "How did the Tooth Fairy's note get in here?"

I stood there, speechless.

P.S. In case you were wondering, I did ask Sam what in the tarnation was he doing, shuffling around in my undergarment business. Apparently he was looking for Christmas presents.

Sweet Potato

(image via skiptomylou.org)

I'm the only one in my family who loves sweet potatoes, and I bake them once a year, on Thanksgiving, just for myself. I've searched high and low for the best recipe, and I've finally found it. I could just kiss Hilary Weeks for providing this next to perfect recipe. It's the best in the west. Seriously.

Sweet Potato mixture:
3 cups cooked, mashed sweet potato, skins off
1 cup sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon vanilla
2 eggs, well beaten
1 stick butter, melted

Crust mixture:
1 cup brown sugar
1/3 cup flour
1 cup chopped pecans
1/3 stick butter, melted

Instructions:
Boil or steam sweet potatoes, drain, remove skins, set aside. In a mixing bowl thoroughly combine the ingredients for the sweet potato mixture. Pour into buttered 9-inch square baking dish. Bake at 350 degrees for 30 minutes or until firm.

Combine crust mixture ingredients in a bowl. Sprinkle surface of baked sweet potato mixture with crust mixture. (This uses the word “mixture” a lot. Has anyone else noticed that?) Broil briefly just until crust is golden brown. Allow to set for at least 30 minutes before serving. (Tom said the crust mixture burned easily on the broil setting. He recommended putting it on before the sweet potatoes bake and letting it bake along with it. You do what you feel good about.)

Five Guys: Follow-Up Review

Top 5 Reasons for Loving Five Guys

1. While we're waiting in line to order our food, our beef-lovin' son drew this picture and hung it on the Five Guy "Leave Comments Here, Please!" board.

2. I hate ground beef! But I ate a burger, just for you, so I could honestly tell you that the meat tastes fresh and fabulous.

3. Five Guys' fries taste better than In-N-Out's fries (sorry), AND you can make your own Training Table-ish fry sauce. Just order a side of mayo and BBQ sauce, and mix it together like you're cooking in the kitchen with Julia Child.

4. They play good music. I'm pretty sure that a Pointer Sisters song came on ("He's So Fine," to be exact). I shook my trunk, side to side, while I refilled at the all-you-can-drink soda fountain.

5. But, I mostly loved chattin' it up with my homies over fries and beef on a bun. Our Tuesday night felt like a Friday night, and I have to thank Five Guys for giving me that bit o' magic.