Out, damn'd spot! out I say!

I have to hand it to Lady Macbeth for really hitting the nail on the head with that line. Because, I will admit this, I have been rehearsing that line over and over in my head for the last three days as I have done battle between light colored carpet and the new bane of my existence:


Actually, in all fairness to the august Kool-Aid Man, the real culprit in this tale is Crystal Light. Or, to be more accurate, the Wal-mart version of Crystal Light. Or, to be more accurate still (the devil is in the details), the real culprit is the sinister Red 40:


(I'll admit it doesn't really look that sinister as a chemical formula. It looked much worse on the carpet, but I was too upset to take a picture.)

Here's how it all went down:

On Thursday night, after the kids were in bed, Jeremy poured himself a cup of very red Crystal Light and set it on the coffee table in our living room. He proceeded to not drink the Crystal Light for over an hour. At about 10:00, after ordering Jonathan some birthday presents online, I put my laptop onto the coffee table, which in turn spilled the full cup of Crystal Light on the floor.

So, so horrible.

After some internet research (seriously, how did anyone do anything before the internet?) I stayed up until 2:30 in the morning steaming the stain out of the carpet. The next day--and I swear I am not making this up--I spent another four hours doing the same thing. Today I wrapped things up (which is code for "gave up") in another hour. So, all told, I spent nine and a half HOURS of my life getting rid of that stain.

Good news, though: the stain is almost entirely gone, just a bit of very pale pink to annoy me for the rest of my days (fortunately, the stain is unobtrusively located in the middle of the living room; what a relief).

The less good news is that Jeremy and I cannot agree on who is to blame in this sordid ordeal. Please help me out by passing judgment (on Jeremy). I will not be offended if you think it's my fault (other than that it's so very clearly Jeremy's fault). Really, tell me: who's to blame?

Waiting...

Now that I'm less than a month away from delivering our latest offspring, I thought I should post a recent photograph for my near and dear readers:


BAM!

I actually don't think the picture turned out too bad at all! I thought about posting a close-up shot of my swollen man-hands or cankles, but in the end I took a few pointers from my Syracuse friend Sami about taking a flattering picture and just went with it (I don't remember all the details, but the secret was something about the angle of the chin and the rump--like, pretend you have a chin and do not have a rump).

But back to being a bit largey and uncomfortable: You've all seen Wall-E, right? You know how the humans are so atrophied from lack of exercise and overeating that they can barely move? Well, that's just how I feel. I know every pregnant woman feels like that toward the end, but that doesn't really make it any more pleasant.

One thing about Missouri in the summer that makes pregnancy more challenging is that it's soooooo hot. And also humid. This means that even the simplest tasks seem more onerous. And the humidity has made me swell up like a puffy human balloon, which is both unsightly and unpleasant. Since I have two small kiddles, I spend a lot of time on the floor playing. And sometimes after playing I feel so stiff and swollen that I just remain there until someone happens by to heft me up. This has actually gone on for days, with everyone in the house wondering why I'm still sitting on the floor.

I kid, naturally.

Overall, though, I will say that I've been surprisingly un-stressed about this baby. This is quite possibly because every other area of our lives right now still feels so unsettled or stressful that I am simply incapable--physically, emotionally, and mentally--of doing my normal pregnancy stress. Sure, I worry about the outcome of this pregnancy, but I'm cautiously optimistic. I really hope everything goes well. I have even allowed myself to periodically feel excited about having a baby--something I haven't been very good at since we lost Sam. (Like it's any easier to have something go wrong if you convince yourself something might go wrong. Oy.) But here's to three more healthy weeks, a safe delivery, and a wonderful new addition to the fam.

The academic glamour shot

I took this head shot of Jeremy the other day for his department website. Isn't he handsome? I put it as the wallpaper of my computer for sort of a joke, and as it turns out it's a pretty funny joke because his head is truly larger than life on the screen, and the kids think it's absolutely hilarious.

A few highlights from the photo shoot:

-I said, "Where do you want to take the picture?" and he said, "Just in that little copse of trees in our back yard." Who says "copse of trees"?? (He is reading over my shoulder saying, "But it is a copse!")

-When I told him to turn his head at a slight angle to his body he told me I was not supposed to be taking his senior picture. But we both agreed, in the end, that it was a good idea.

-When he came out into the front room in preparation for the shoot wearing these glasses (which are new and which he hasn't really worn yet), Clara looked up at him and said, "When did you start wearing glasses?" (Where has she been her whole life?)

All said, I think it's a pretty good picture. We sure do like our Casio. :) Jeremy is fond of saying that Casio is super great at point-and-shoot cameras and digital watches--of which (I flatter myself) we own both.

Something for your ice cream maker, and something for your pasta

We've tried several new recipes this week, and two of them are certainly worth passing along (though we also really dug oven baked pizzadillas... think pizza baked into a quesadilla. Delightful).

The first is a recipe for lemon ice milk, which is basically frozen, milky lemon deliciousness. We were looking for something relatively light, both in taste and in fat, etc. This really fit the bill. Jeremy liked it so much he told me he wants to eat it nightly, indefinitely. High praise indeed. Here's the recipe:

Lemon Ice

Juice of 1 lemon

Lemon zest to taste (I'd probably zest at least half the lemon)

2/3 C sugar

2 C 2% milk

Whisk together the sugar, lemon juice, and lemon zest until well combined. Slowly add milk into the lemon/sugar mixture while whisking rapidly. Immediately pour into ice cream maker and turn it on. Don't let the mixture sit before freezing, or the milk will probably curdle.

A few notes:

The sugar amount is variable; the recipe called for 1 C, we used 3/4 C, but we thought it was a little too sweet. Maybe 2/3 C is the "sweet" spot? Perhaps only 1/2 C?

The type of milk you use is also probably variable. I probably would've used 1% if we'd had any, but we only had 2% and nonfat. I guess I could've mixed. The lighter milk you use, I think, the icier the treat will be. 2% was pretty good.

The original recipe was double this recipe. This amount was enough for our family, but a larger family would want to double the recipe. Jeremy wants me to double the recipe next time so we can have more leftovers. Just note that once you put it into the freezer it will get VERY HARD, so plan to let it sit out for at least 40 minutes until softened, then stir before serving. Enjoy!

Homemade Lemon Ricotta (adapted from Cooking Light magazine)

2 C 2% milk

1/2 C plain Greek yogurt

2 tsp. cider vinegar

1 1/2 tsp grated lemon rind

1/4 tsp kosher salt

Combine first three ingredients in a medium saucepan. Heat over medium-high heat until small curds form, which for me happened pretty quickly, though I kept heating until just before the boiling point. Strain through a sieve lined with a double layer of cheesecloth; let stand for 5 minutes (you can also let it drain through paper towels, which is what I did since I am both sieve-less and cheesecloth-less, but I would've much rather done as the recipe instructed). Discard liquid. Scrape cheese into small bowl. Stir in rind and 1/4 tsp salt.

That's it! It's so easy and delicious. We sprinkled the cheese over some linguine with summer squash and tomatoes, and the whole dish was so summery and nice.

Photo of Lemon Ice from allrecipes.com; photo of lemon ricotta and pasta from Cooking Light magazine (myrecipes.com).

Oly on my mind

My parents' basement is good for lots of things, like staying cool on a hot day, corralling children and mess into a relatively contained space, preserving sanity when two families share a house for two months, etc. But it is also super good for staging Olympic feats of strength, speed, and agility with two restless children.

Jonathan and Clara competed in events like rolling, somersaulting, the running long jump, and the standing high jump (an event that's hilarious both because it's ridiculous and because it actually used to be an Olympic sport).



I think everyone's favorite event, though, was the high-intensity Dad Dive. At least it's the one I liked most.


We finished each Games with a medals ceremony (in which shiny if invisible medals were awarded) and a rousing rendition of the National Anthem. Trust me: we'll be ready for London 2012.

The mountains, the rolling hills, the meadows, the daffodils...and the mosquitoes...

Two weeks before we left Utah for our new home in Missouri, we went camping with my parents and sister in American Fork Canyon. I will freely admit that I'd pushed for this to happen, but my parents are pretty game for camping most of the time, and Jeremy is always game to make me happy--especially when I'm preg-a-nant. So we loaded everything up into our cars and my parents' swank tent-trailer and drove an arduous 20 minutes into the canyon.

The site was lovely, and the distance was ideal for my dad, who had to drive home to work during the day. We stayed for two nights, and I think of the seven people in attendance, our average level of enjoyment, on scale of 1 to 10, with 10 being the most fantastic, ranged from a low of about .05 to a high of 10.

The lowest of the lows was me--and probably my mom--when we were abandoned with my sister and Jonathan for the better part of a wretchedly hot day with no car and no possible means of escape. Added to the wretched heat were the swarming mosquitoes who found my flesh desperately appealing. I finally took Jonathan into the trailer, stripped him down into his shorties, and played about a million slow-motion games of Crazy Eights with him. My mom kept coming in and making me drink water. Megan sat in the shade and read a book (which is why she probably wasn't feeling the .05 like my mom and I. And Jonathan loves being in his underwear and seems more or less impervious to heat, so he was pretty happy.

Of course, I have to give Jeremy a shout out, since one of his lowest lows happened to correspond to what was probably one of Clara's highest highs (though that's hard to accurately describe, since I have never seen a happier camper--literally--than my Clara). Jeremy surprised Clara with a trip up to Timpanogos Caves. She was so excited to go, and probably would've hiked most of the quite steep trail up and down if the ranger hadn't given so dang many stern warnings about rockslides, snakes, mountain lions, and other sure-fire-tales-of-death-and-maiming. So Jeremy carried her on his shoulders the whole way up and the whole way back. This was happening while I was bordering on heat exhaustion back at camp. By the time he got back, he could barely walk. But Clara was absolutely thrilled with her excursion. In fact, in the first cave, the ranger asked for volunteers to identify the formations on the wall. After several incorrect answers from the other tourists, Clara bravely raised her hand and said, "Those are fossils." She was right. That's my good little geologist.

Other than those long and painful hours--and later than night when my dad melted the anti-reflective coating on his glasses while cooking foil dinners, which he hates to make and which I also requested ("Seriously," he said, "I could sautee the same ingredients in a pan with the same taste and a lot less effort")--we had a pretty good trip. Jonathan and Clara loved hiking and exploring, and Jonathan in particular was always happy to sit on a bench and watching the rushing water in the creek. Megan is always great fun to be around, and my parents are great about making things enjoyable and fun for their offspring. Plus, my mom will do just about anything for a legitimate excuse to make S'Mores. Seriously, she's an absolute fiend.

I'm really glad we went camping, especially since I don't see myself (at this point) becoming much of a Missouri camper--unless I somehow come to grips with relentless humidity, chiggers, and not having actual mountains to camp in. I miss the arid West already (but am pleased to report that we seem to have largely replaced mosquitoes and hornets with fireflies).

~~~~~~
I like this picture, because even though I have no makeup on and am really quite filthy, I look deceptively slim. I could show you some more accurate pictures, but I won't (like the one of me hiking downhill with Jonathan, which Jeremy took from a vantage point below me, despite the fact that I have told him countless times to never take pictures of me from below when I'm pregnant).


I like this picture because it is classic Meg-man. Love it.




Jonathan and Clara were perpetually sticky the entire time. My mom is the kind to wipe messy children down; we are the kind to reduce stickiness by covering it with dirt and dust.




And I had to end with this one, because I couldn't decide whether I liked this one or the opening photo most. They're a good-looking pair, those two!

While the cat's away...

It's Jeremy's first full day at work (though he won't be an "official" employee until mid-August). Nevertheless, we're missing him on his first big day away and want to keep him posted on our activities while he's gone. In the last hour, we've gone on a walk (with much crying and whining; the kids also seemed unhappy), and done a little bit of city building and piano playing:




Why Clara seems largely incapable of keeping her eyes open or looking at the camera in a picture is beyond me, but we only had one shot.

In other news, we're starting to feel more settled after our first week in Missouri. House pictures to come (so look forward to that, Mom!).

Oh, how lovely was the morning!

I spent so much time not blogging that I now feel far behind in writing about things that mattered to me and were important to our family. Here’s a first effort at rectifying that situation.

A week or so before we left Syracuse, Jeremy’s mom came to visit. Before she left, we decided to take a day trip to Palmyra. Jeremy and I had been there many times before, and even Clara came with us several times as a baby. But between the winter that would not end and the morning sickness that also would not end, we didn’t have a chance to go this time around until our eleventh hour in the ’Cuse. And since spring is an unpredictable season, we ended up going on a warm but misty day.

The first awesome thing about our trip was that Jeremy got to ride for an hour and ten minutes each way in between the kids’ car seats in the Golf. I wish I’d taken a picture, but the poor guy looked pretty cramped and pathetic (no offense, JB). When we arrived, he unfolded himself from the car and emerged in all of his glorious lankiness, and then we went to the Hill Cumorah visitors’ center. This picture is taken at the foot of the Christus statue, and I really appreciate that Jonathan is holding a paper towel tube, which he carried with him all the way from Syracuse. It’s those little details that make events like this more meaningful, don’t you agree?

After our visitors center tour, we drove to the top of the Hill Cumorah and enjoyed the rain and mist. Really, doesn’t it look like the ideal day to spend outdoors? Ah, New York…

It was at the top of the Hill Cumorah that we first tried to get Jonathan to have his picture taken with his arms away from his face. For some reason (I blame Clara), he thinks that he looks cuter when he puts his hands up to his mouth. I don’t know what he’s trying to do. But he also seems to have no idea how to respond when we ask him to put his hands down. He ends up looking pretty unnatural. That’s our boy!

We drove from the Hill Cumorah to the Joseph Smith Farm, where we toured the two farm houses and then walked through the Sacred Grove. Clara and the “Girl Missionary” (as Clara called her) who did our tour became fast friends, and eventually Clara became her little missionary companion, helping to ask questions, lead the group around, and lead everyone in a hymn (I should interject here that our group was quite small and comprised entirely of Mormons, which made for a different kind of tour than we’d been on in the past, when we’d been in larger groups with people of all faiths. They’re both great groups to be in, but I thought it was pretty neat to be in the small group on this trip. It was almost like being at church, but better since we were outside and seeing interesting things.)

By the time we walked through the Sacred Grove, the rain was coming down a bit harder, but we stayed pretty dry amidst the trees. It was a nice walk. The kids liked it, and we even tried to get a few more pictures of Jonathan. First we asked him to put his hands in his pockets, which he did not appreciate. You can see for yourself what happened next.

Silly boy.

Sorry for the travelogue-style post. I am not feeling very amusing or clever at present, but I figured I might as well start somewhere with my blogging. Also, if you are unfamiliar with Joseph Smith or the history of the LDS church in New York, I’d invite you to learn more at mormon.org.

I'm so glad when Daddy comes home!

Since U Been Gone

So I’m pretty well behind on my blogging, as you may have noticed. You will not be surprised to learn that I have a good excuse, though it’s one you’ve likely heard a few times over the last year: we’re moving/have moved/are in the middle of moving. Again. But get this, dear readers: although we’re in a period of transition to mark our third (fourth?) cross-country move in the last 12 months, when we settle in at the end of this transition, we are settling in. That’s right: I will now reveal something we’ve known since the end of February: Jeremy has a tenure-track job as a geography professor. Is that not good news? I know it can barely be considered true or real until it’s posted on a blog somewhere, so here it is. We’re moving to Missouri in July, and who knows? Maybe we’ll be there forever. Well, I at least plan to be there until a pesky twister delivers us to Oz in the middle of the night one night. Ah, the Midwest.

And can I just say that although I am still undecided about whether to reveal our precise location on my blog, that it is certainly in the Midwestern part of Missouri rather than the Southern part of Missouri. And yes, I do have a “thing” about not wanting to live in the South. Don’t judge me.

At any rate, I am currently hunkered down with my kids at my parents’ house while Jeremy is wrapping up a few things, like spending a week in Cincinnati reading AP Human Geography exams. He’ll roll into town next week, then we’ll hang out for awhile until we’re ready for our big drive to the Show-Me State.

Since we are apart from Jeremy at present, I’m going to start my blog catch-up by posting about things we’ve done since we’ve been apart. We sure do miss our dad/husband around these parts.

It’s unrealistic for me to think I can catch up on everything in this post, so I’ll go for the most recent first: a little trip to Thanksgiving Point’s Farm Country, where my offspring were able to unleash their inner farmhands (although at this point none of us are interested in poultry farming. Fowl=foul, in a stenchy kind of way, if you catch my drift. And I think you do).

I have to end on this picture of Jonathan because it fills my heart with joy. Who eats an ice cream cone like that? I really like that kid.