Nudity

Our 2-year old daughter would much prefer life if she could be naked 24-7. Despite the fact that the current temperature in the city of Lehi is 4 degrees, she does not want to wear clothes. The only exception to the nudity is when I put on a particularly rockin version of I Am A Child of God sung by the Mormon Tabernacle Choir in which she runs up to her room, puts on a fluorescent orange dancing skirt and comes down and dances all around the kitchen to it. This may come close to blasphemy, but I really think the Mormon Tabernacle Choir would strike a chord with a new demographic if the next time they sang I Am A Child of God all of them wore nothing but orange dancing skirts. I'm not saying it needs to be in conference, maybe somewhere a little less formal. The Days of 47 Parade perhaps? The inauguration of the next President of the United States? No one would look twice if they chose to be topless when singing on their next European tour- they would probably just need to tone down the orange in the skirts so it would be appropriate for the world's greatest concert halls.

It's not just the issue that she enjoys being nude- she enjoys putting on her pajamas every night after her bath- but the second she gets into bed, all of the clothes come off- and she won't put them back on. It's considered a successful bedtime if she puts on underwear- which, by the way, she insists on changing four times a day- when, of course, she chooses to wear it in the first place.

I've decided she must get it from my side of the family. Jackie loves pajamas and no matter how thick they are, she manages to come to bed freezing every night. She insists on putting her frozen extremities on my carcass- thus making me freeze. I am like our daughter- I enjoy wearing pajamas up to the point of actually going to bed. I get too hot to actually wear them in the bed itself. It can be awkward if Jackie is gone in the evening because frequently I lounge about the house in various states of undress- and without fail, it's the night the bishopric comes by for a visit- at which point I have to dash upstairs and try to find clothes.

If there ever is a fire, we'll be a sorry sight standing in front of our burning home- me in my underwear, Millie in her Princess Ariel underwear, Ellis in her bundle and Jackie in several layers of pajamas- most likely freezing.

A Midnight Apparation

***Warning*** Descriptive bodily function language ahead***Do not read while eating***

So last night around midnight, Jackie and I had settled in to slumberland when we heard light scratching at Millie's door. I went and opened it and found a small 2-year old version of the Carrie horror film- but instead of being covered with pigs blood, she was covered with tomato soup that she had eaten 4 hours previously. She had (silently I might add) thrown up her tomato soup, cheese sandwich and milk all over (and I mean ALL OVER) both herself and her bedding. While Jackie proceeded to bathe her, I had to remove all of her bedding down to the mattress, try to rinse it off in the sink (alas, the cheese chunks were too mighty for the drain) and launder them. After using up an entire Febreeze bottle on her mattress and carpet, I remade the bed while Jackie put new pajamas on her and tried to talk her back into going to bed. She wanted to sleep in our bed for a bit, so Jackie and her got into our bed. Of course you guessed what happened next- Jackie calmly held her while she emptied the rest of her stomach contents all over herself, Jackie and our bed. After that, Jackie and Millie had a shower while I stripped our bedding down to the mattress, used another bottle of Febreeze in our room and remade our bed after rinsing out our bedding. So the night's tally went like this:
3 pairs of pajamas for Millie
2 pairs of pajamas for Jackie
2 sets of twin-size sheets
4 pillowcases
2 pillows
3 blankets
4 loads of laundry
6 rags
4 towels
At least 28 squirts of Febreeze to rid our rooms of the smell of regurgitated tomato soup and dairy products.

Needless to say, Millie did not attend church today and is currently wolfing down applesauce and chicken noodle soup. She was just dancing a nude jig on the downstairs couch so we think she's feeling better.

January Blahs

January, as a whole, bites. I think today the high reached a toe-warming 15 degrees- even though the sun was shining. It's almost like after all of the warmth (hot coco-wise), presents, fun and food of Christmas and New Years, December decides to take a nice poo over the next 30 days (except for your birthday Jackie!) Anyway, all of this cold has me pondering a few things:

1- I want a vacation. At first I thought somewhere warm, but at this point, I just want a change of scenery. Because I have a student teacher right now, it's tempting to take off somewhere exotic, but, unfortunately, a couple of things stand in the way of this- A: Although I could claim it was a birthday present, now that Jackie has read this blog, she will know that's a big fat lie. It's purely selfish. We are to be saving money for a minivan- I know, you're thinking, those Eaton's. Where will their grandiose dreams end? The answer? When we have a 2008 Honda Odyssey that will make Millie stop kicking the back of my seat. B: What do we do with our girls? My parents are watching them when we go to NYC in June, and I don't want anything to jeopardize that arrangement. Plus, Millie has just begun sleeping nightly in a big bed and we would feel too bad for any baby-sitter to do hourly potty checks to make sure she doesn't wet the big bed. So far, telling Millie that while Princess Ariel (currently residing on the sheets on her bed) enjoys being under the sea, she does not like man-made oceans being dumped on her head (or words to that effect). It's worked so far.

2- Movies released in theatres in January suck. Unless we're getting NYC and LA movie cast-offs (that technically opened there in Dec. to be considered for awards) NOTHING good opens in theatres in January. To add to this, Flight of the Conchords has been stuck at the top of our Netflix queue for 2 months under "Long Wait" so it keeps sending us documentaries that Jackie put in our queue months ago. You don't know how depressing it is to go out to the mailbox anticipating a rollicking HBO folk music comedy and instead opening 3 hours and 40 min. (and that's just the 1st of 2 discs) of "The Farmer's Wife" a PBS documentary from 1998 or Werner Herzog's laugh-riot, "Little Dieter Learns to Fly" about a prisoner of war who escapes barefoot into the jungle of Vietnam. The Farmer's Wife turned out to be fascinating (and hopefully will cure Jackie of her obsession of living off the land), but still...

3- The writers strike needs to end RIGHT NOW (is it sacrilege to put the Writers and Producers Guild on the temple prayer role?). If it weren't for Bravo's never-ending supply of amazing reality television (of which I be sure and give thanks every night in my prayers- heaven bless Heidi Klum and her outrageous clothing designers), I would be holed up in my room with a large Symphony candy bar (left over from Christmas) writing a blog... oh wait...

4- The check engine now light that has been on 3 days on my dashboard. I took it in and they said it's an oxygen sensor that needs to be replaced before emissions (not until May) and I don't need to worry unless the light flashes. Once again, I blame January. This light wouldn't dare come on in the happy month of December.

5- To drown my sorrows, all I want is comfort food- thus I'm as big as a blimp (or pleasingly plump or ribaldly rotund... take your pick) but, when watching poor overweight (and tone deaf) Temptress audition for American Idol last night, I considered getting up to dance to each audition to burn calories- but I quickly dove back under my blanket because, to come full circle, January is too cold to do anything.

2008 Confessions

Since the New Year is a time for reflection and renewal, I am using this blog to publicly air the following personal confessions:

Guitar Hero III is more addicting than crack. Not that I've tried crack- but if it weren't for the fact that we have Guitar Hero III on our computer and our computer is in the baby's room so we are unable to play when the baby is sleeping, I'm sure that after just 7 days of playing, Jackie and I would be homeless on the highway, our children would have been taken away Britney Spears style (without the bodyguard standoff) and we would be selling our organs and fleshly delights just to pass the song "Talk Dirty To Me" by Poison. And the thing is, I'm not that good. I have not gone past the Easy level- which is frightening considering that each song can be passed off on Easy, Medium, Hard and Expert. Look for Jackie and I to be entering rehab (watch for the paparazzi vans in front of our house) shortly.

I love filling out calendars at the beginning of a new year with important dates (and not so important dates). Christmas break is not complete without a trip to Borders to get 4 or 5 calendars at 50% off for home and school. I like to look up dates for the upcoming school year so I know what days I'll have off, how long Christmas break will be next year (2 full weeks baby!) and I like to fill in people's birthdays. I do not know why I get such a thrill out of doing this, but I think my brain would explode in delight if I could figure out a way to fill out a calendar while playing Guitar Hero simultaneously.

Finally, although this is not a confession, I just finished Ken Follett's sequel to Pillars of the Earth. It's called World Without End and takes place during the middle ages and the bubonic plague. 1st of all, I don't think I could have lived back then because of the lack of undergarments worn by peasants (which I'm sure I would have been one of). I am guessing the plague was brought about by both rats, ticks and severe chaffing. Also, it's sad to say, but I think I would have joined a roving group of Christian believers that hook up with a crazy monk that go from village to village performing various biblical stories. I'm not sad about that part, but what usually happens after the bible stories and the calls for repentence comes public scourging and whipping yourself until you get money from the local peasants. I don't think I could get up the courage to whip myself (again, I don't even like mild chaffing), but I think the monk would make me go around with my hat and force me to collect the money from the villagers. I think this all stems from my days in telemarketing before college.

If you're in the Salt Lake area on Monday, come to my high school and check out our Broadway musical revue at 7:00pm. My students rock and they are performing a bunch of numbers from a variety of shows. They're really good!