Monday, March 24, 2014

Gluten-Free and Judginess

  I recently read an article on signs you have a gluten intolerance. I basically had every single one, all of which could quite possibly be explained by some other cause, but I thought, eh. Might as well give this whole gluten-free thingymagigy a try, and see if it helps anything.

  I don't like telling people I'm trying to go gluten-free, though. Because they get really judgey. But not from the side I was expecting. See, THIS is what I was expecting:

ME: Yeah, I'm giving this "gluten-free" thingy a whirl to see if it helps my digestion system/terrible acne.

WHOEVER ELSE: UGHHH, WHY DOES EVERYONE SUDDENLY GIVE A CRAP ABOUT GLUTEN? YOU, MY FRIEND, ARE A HIPPY, AND SHOULD DROWN YOURSELF.

  This is the reaction I expected because it's more or less what I think when I hear anyone is doing anything weird, food-wise. Paleo, juicing, all that stuff, I basically get judgey and feel superior. And I'm sorry about that. I'm not a great person.

 But terrible people like me must be in the minority, or maybe we're just better at hiding our disdain than I thought, because they're not the judgey ones I've encountered. Since I live in Oregon, here's a basic compilation of the reactions I've had:

ME: Yeah, I'm trying to go gluten-free for a while.

WHOEVER ELSE: Oh, me, too! It's so much better for you. And they have some great foods out there! There's this one cereal, it's super healthy for you, called Tastes Like Tree Bark [not actual name], and it's not bad! [NOTE: 'not bad' is the phrase used to describe something inedible made slightly more edible. Have you ever heard someone describe tofu as 'good'? No, the best that can be said of tofu is 'not bad'. End of rant.]

ME: Yeah, also Frosted Flakes! You know, since it's corn-based and all.

   And then whoever I'm talking to looks at me like I said I stabbed a baby seal. With a steak. A non-organic steak.

  See, here's where the mix-up is: I didn't say I was dieting. I didn't say I was going sugar-free, or even trying to eat healthy. I said I'm trying to give up gluten for a while. Because it would be nice to live my life without feeling perpetually tired, or having brain fog, or maybe (FINGERS CROSSED!) get rid of the acne my mother assured me would disappear after the puberty thing ended (my mother is a liar, but I love her anyway).

   So let me eat my friggin' Frosted Flakes in peace. Because they're gluten-free, and I like them. And you know what? I do feel a bit better. Even hopped up on sugar. I made gluten-free chocolate chip cookies last week, and they were the best cookies I've ever made. And I ate almost every single one.

UNRELATED P.S. Reached 100 pages in my new book! Remember how I wrote that book last year? It was crap. And I hated it. I made the mistake of never, ever editing it as I wrote, which made it one big, hot mess when I went to read over the 340+ pages I slaved over. And I realized I just wasn't crazy enough over the story I'd written to work for another year tearing it apart. So I decided to chalk it up to a learning experience and write another book, which I edit every weekend. I think that, if I were to come across the book I'm writing now in a bookstore, it is the kind of book I'd like to read. Which makes me very, very happy.

Tuesday, March 4, 2014

It's Like Elementary School All Over Again

After 8 weeks of my bigoted teacher's rants against religion, I left class early today because I couldn't stop crying.

  Not because of his latest abuses against religion (apparently I must be "self-righteous" and "racist"). I can take that. Growing up Mormon, you learn to have a thick skin because you're an easy target. Even when he looked me straight in the eyes during one of these rants, knowing full well of my religious background, I didn't crack. Even when he interrupted my one attempt at defending myself and my religion, I just rolled my eyes and decided to let him have out.

  It was when a kid in the front row raised their hand and said, "I think you're being really offensive. I'm not even religious and I think you're being offensive" that my eyes started to water. People sticking up for me (or just showing kindness in general) has always been a soft spot for me. But naturally it was assumed I must be crying because of the religious rants (to the couple in the back who pointed me out and laughed--thanks. That was great.)

  Unfortunately, when I start to cry, I get extremely embarrassed. It's too vulnerable. Also, my whole face turns splotchy, and my nose/area around my mouth turn beet red, which is lovely. So I continued to cry due to mortification at my crying in public. It was okay when it was just a few tears. But then came the snot. I tried to make due at first, but it quickly became obvious I had two options: 1.) Leave class or 2.) Grab some kleenex and come back. Not wanting the class to think it was that easy to run me out (plus not wanting to miss vital notes for our final), I grabbed some toilet paper and headed back, thinking I had it under control, anyway.

  I didn't. After about a minute, the humiliation crept back in and the tears/snot started flowing again. A second return from the bathroom was more than I could handle. After using up the toilet paper I'd brought back, I decided to duck out early.

  Anyway, to the person in the front row: thank you. Also, I hate you, because you made me cry.

Saturday, February 15, 2014

Lincoln the Model

  At one point when visiting Colorado for Christmas, we found ourselves at the mall. Lincoln proved that he has a future career in modeling.
 He makes those glasses look good. Or at least hilariously adorable.
   Cuddling with Grandma Terri. In glasses.
   Eat your heart out.
   McKay was trying to indicate that if you kept your head up, the glasses would stay on better. Which of course led to this . . .
 Ahhh. That's one relaxed pose.
   I can never get enough of Lincoln in a hat. He picked this out himself.
   This is at some Cabela's-type hunting superstore. The kids section is like Disneyland, but with way more weapons. Given the way Lincoln preferred holding the rifle, I think he may have some dangerous tendencies.
We put the bell on him so we could hear him running away.

  I'd try to pull this post together with some funny after-commentary, but I'm too tired. Pretend I did and give a hearty laugh, though.

Thursday, February 6, 2014

THE DOCTOR WHO 50TH SPECIAL, AGHHHHH!!!!

   Ahem. For those of you who know Doctor Who, you know that the special was back in November. I'm catching up still, leave me be! Anyhoo, I was crazy excited for the 50th. CRAZY EXCITED. I looked up news on it daily. Maybe hourly. I bought tickets to see it in theaters the first day they went on sale. I talked about theories involving Rose's reappearance with my mom on the phone for weeks. She humored me.

  So, November 23rd shows up, and I'm beyond excited. We get a babysitter, we drive close to an hour to get to a theater that was showing it, and McKay even dresses up in his Halloween costume from the year before, the 11th Doctor (which I did not get a picture of, sadly). We're running slightly late, which has me practically tearing out my hair because DOCTOR WHO. AND LATENESS. I REALLY HATE LATENESS. So I have McKay drop me off while he looks for a parking spot, I run up to the ticket booth, print out the tickets, and--

  The savvy among you will notice that the date on this ticket is for the 25th. I had somehow never paid attention to the fact that the special was showing on the 23rd for TV, and the 25th in theaters. What was that about, anyway? 

  I was crushed and hugely embarrassed, but McKay was very nice about it. I think he got a bit tired of me saying, "I am an idiot. I am such a ginormous idiot" after the 80th time, though. We ended up seeing Ender's Game instead, with McKay still in his 11th Doctor glory (we did get a couple of turned heads, thanks for asking).  I thought they did a fabulous job with Ender's Game, by the by. McKay was ambivalent. To be fair, though, he had re-read the book recently, which seems to be a huge factor on whether you enjoyed it or not. 

  ANYWAY, two days later, back we went on the hour-long drive to get to the theater to finally see THE DOCTOR WHO 50th ANNIVERSARY EPISODE! We didn't even watch it online during the two day wait (which was probably the hardest thing I've ever done, including labor) because we wanted our first experience seeing it to be on the big screen. 

  It was awesome, seeing a bunch of other people that love Doctor Who as much as us. Well, me. McKay likes it a normal amount. Like I've said, I like it a crazy amount. And the beginning video with Strax talking about movie etiquette (and eating screaming popcorn with great relish) alone made the price of admission worth it. But the 3D was pretty freaking rad, too. 


  I managed to snap this photo on the way out (I know none of these people, but I admire them all greatly). I love Doctor Who nerds. We're the best. AND HOW INSANELY ACCURATE ARE THOSE DOLLS?! Best ever.

  Thank you, McKay, for going along with my obsessions! And thank you, Doctor Who, for being awesome.

Disneyland! Sometime in November? I think?

 I think this Disneyland trip was during Thanksgiving. The problem with getting really far behind in blogging is that it all becomes a jumble of events that are mish-mashed in your phone camera.


   Every time he goes to Disneyland, McKay likes to go to the Animation place thingy (that's technically in California Adventure, whatevs). They have this section that teaches you how to draw a small bit of animation, and it takes a long time if you do more than a bouncing ball. McKay drew a guy confronting Prisoner Zero from Doctor Who. It took a while.

video
  Unfortunately, the boxes where you draw different thingymagigies weren't laid out super well, either, so this video doesn't show how awesome McKay's work is.
  My boys get handsomer and handsomer. Me? You'll never know! I'm the one always taking the picture! BWA HA HA!
  McKay and Lincoln with cousin Autry and Grandpa Rulon! I wanted to get a picture of Lincoln and Autry in their coordinating hoodies (are those not the cutest hoodies you have ever seen in your lifetime?), and McKay was trying to get Lincoln to smile by beeping his nose . . .
 Which did not lead to a smile, but did lead to self-nose booping.
  Autry had this face often. It made me laugh. Also, she had fuzzy boots! FUZZY BOOTS, I TELL YOU.

  This trip to Disneyland apparently did not include a single picture of my mom, James, Jes, Jared (just about everyone in my family's favorite friend) or myself. Oops. It was super fun, though! Thanks Mom and Dad for an awesome time.

Friday, January 17, 2014

Lincoln is Two!

The double-pick. This was in response to McKay asking for Lincoln to do a karate chop. Not sure how it followed, but sure.
Talking-wise, Lincoln prefers gibberish for the most part. But he CAN say a variety of words, including animal sounds ("woof" was his first word, after all), various vehicles (BUS!) (although he calls "cars" "kanye"s, which worries me for obvious reasons), and the only number he will oblige us by counting: "two". When we ask him to count to three, he says, "Two . . . two . . . TWO!". You'd think this would work out well with his being two now and all, but when we ask him how old he is, he looks at us in resentful confusion.

   If Lincoln's current interests are any indication, he will either grow up to be a stunt man or a bus driver. One of the two. Yesterday while babysitting, Lincoln's main source of entertainment was jumping off the couch, head-first. I was concerned for the first two thunks; after that I just went back to watching "How the Grinch Stole Christmas". Baby Grinch is probably the creepiest thing ever, by the way.
In case you didn't see it on facebook, I give you Baby Bed Head! One of my genes in action.
   Lincoln is very friendly, especially to cars. While walking to the park a few days ago, he stopped every few seconds to wave to the cars coming down the street. He would then call, "Bye!" and continue on his way.
 Lincoln just figured out how to open baby locks. Literally, like, thirty seconds ago. This terrifies me. He already knows how to open the fridge. Nothing is sacred anymore.
Lincoln trying to clip his nails. But more importantly, how adorable is he in a vest?
   Lincoln's favorite foods: fruit snacks, fruit, carrots, and cereal. Sometimes a turkey sandwich with the works (which means with lettuce and stuff). Those are basically the only foods he eats. Oh, and chocolate.
SUSPENDERS!
One of Lincoln's few words is "Elmo". Speaking of, is anyone else seriously concerned about Mr. Noodle? I think he may be a danger to himself.
   Lincoln is now able to: put train tracks together by himself (as long as I remind him that he IS able to do it by himself), peel an orange, and blow kisses. He doesn't kiss us himself anymore. Now when we ask for kisses, he just extends his cheek for us to kiss. Like royalty.
The double binky. When one is no longer enough.
   One of Lincoln's major concerns: food temperature. If it is remotely warm when he puts it to his face, he insists for the rest of the meal that it's "hot", and it's a wash.
  Lincoln used to say "I love you" when prompted word-for-word. But now he anticipates us and cuts right to the chase. When we say, "Can you say 'I'?" he just says, "you."
My baby has a drinking problem.
  Despite my best intentions, Lincoln loves trains. I really, really wanted to have the one boy who was not obsessed with trains and tractors and all that typical boy stuff, but . . . *sigh* The heart wants what the heart wants, I guess.
That's one way to do it.
A few of the genes Lincoln got from me: My wicked awesome bed head, my nonexistent dancing skills, and my resentment when someone calls me out on my crap.Great genes, one and all.
This pose is just . . . I can't even.
  Some of McKay's genes: The inability to look away from the comforting glow of the television. Also, the need to DO stuff. Also, liking people.
Like the zombie of English muffins. Mmmmm . . . jelly.
  A gene Lincoln got from both of us: supreme weirdness. It's my favorite of his genes.
  We love you, Lincoln! Even though you're somehow already a toddler, you will always be my baby. But not in a creepy way, like those moms that seriously can't deal with their kids aging, and they make them act like babies even when they're adults. That's not going to happen. Because I love you too gosh darn much.

  Happy birthday! You know, a couple days ago. You're the best, and I love you.

Wednesday, January 15, 2014

Did You Miss Me?

  You know what's been kind of nice?

   Not blogging.

   You know. Doing activities for the sake of doing them, rather than because I know it would make a good blog post. Not fretting about page views, comments, or other crap that--really? Does not matter. In the slightest.

  BUT NO MORE!

  . . . At least for today. I'm bored, and backed up in photos, so I'm going to UPDATE THE BEJEEBERS OUT OF YOU GUYS. I'm going to write as many as I can while McKay's meeting with the missionaries (he's ward mission leader thingy. That equates to lots and lots of meetings and lessons and stuff. Usually it's my video game time, but since I already played a crazy amount today, I thought I'd do something slightly more productive. I'll end these parentheses now.) Uh, yeah, that sentence got away from me (DOCTOR WHO QUOTE! Speaking of, I dreamed David Tennant was my gynecologist last night. He was just as sweet as you'd imagine. But even so, I was incredibly relieved when McKay woke me up before the actual exam. BACK TO THE SENTENCE). But, yeah, anyway, I'm going to write as many as I can tonight, and post one a day, so you guys can get into the groove of, you know, checking out this page once in a whiles again. (PARENTHESIS, RIGHT?! What is my deal with them?)


 Twenty minutes later: Hmm. I remember why I started hating blogging now. Uploading photos and editing them sucks up time like a Kirby vacuum salesman.

  *tapping fingers against invisible counter*


NEXT MORNING:

Okay, guys. Zero done last night. I'm still going to try to update the crap out of this blog, though. So stay tuned. To tide you over, here are some outtakes from our Christmas photo:

Lincoln kept trying to snuggle me. Which was adorable, but hard to keep a straight face for. And smiles pretty much ruin the whole get-up.
  And then Lincoln lost it. It was past his naptime, and things just went downhill really fast. I like my "concerned" face that looks mildly amused. Because that's what kind of mom I am, folks.

  STAY TUNED.