Sasha's Blessing

Zane blessed Sasha on Sunday. It was really great except for two things: The snowstorm scared off Benn and Cheri, and Karen and Austin didn't come back from med school in Iowa for it. Ingrates. And I was so excited that we didn't have the blessing LAST week, because there was a big storm on Sunday. What demonic powers keep having snowstorms on Sunday? Oh, wait...

Anyway, Sasha is beautiful, big, and blessed. Or B-cubed, as we like to think of it.

Thanksgiving was a really great day, too. Again, the family missed Karen immensely. For one thing, we only had two pies! Karen never would have let that happen. Fortunately, I called her today and we talked for, like, sixteen hours. If only we could have been making cookies during that time (or a Suzy pie), it would have been perfect.

Patti, I loved seeing your comment. I'd love to hear more about your life in the past, oh 15 or so years since I last talked to you! Please email me at mollybuys @ yahoo.com.

Literature's application to real life

Things I learned from Laura Ingalls Wilder that are applicable to the 21st century:

1. Blizzards come from the northwest.
2. A house is way better than a shanty if a blizzard hits.
3. The window really DOES go blank in a blizzard.
4. If lost outside in a blizzard, burrow inside a haystack and wait for the storm to clear. Under no circumstances should you hang out beside the haystack. Individual adaptation may be necessary if the hay is in bales.
5. Huddling 'round the fire is still a viable option.
6. Always follow Cap Garland if you're not sure where to go. If Cap Garland is not available, stay home. Do you want to wander on the prairies until you get lost and die? I didn't think so.

I know there are many other lessons Laura can teach us, but given the weather outside, these seemed to most relevant. Tune in later for lessons on making soap and playing with corncobs and pigs' bladders.

Baby Blessing

So, Sasha's baby blessing will be this Sunday at 2:45. You are all, of course, welcome to come. If I didn't invite you it's because you live far, far away and I feel bad even inviting you. Here's the question: would you like to be invited, even if you don't want to come? I never know. I sort of feel like I'm being considerate by NOT asking some people to come. Not because I don't want them there, but hey, if you're in your 80s or have a little kid and you live an hour or more from me and you aren't my parents or brother, that's a lot to ask. Am I overthinking this? Probably yes.

Just some random thoughts

I love watching Sabrina run. She tilts her head from side to side and kicks out her little heels. Also, her arms move very enthusiastically.

Today she was reading a book. She knows most of the words, so it sounded like she was really reading. This book is a goodnight to the animals type book, and the mommy animals are on the page and there is a baby animal attached to the book by a ribbon to put in bed on the page. Sabrina knows it's funny to put the dog in the pigpen, or the baby in the chicken's nest. She'll put in the wrong animal and just squeal with laughter.

Yesterday Sasha was big enough to wear his super cute Sunday church clothes, the kind that look like real clothes. Why is it that little girls' cute clothes are cute because they look so unlike grownup clothes with their ruffles and embroidery and ruffles, and boys' cute clothes are cute because they look just like grownup clothes? These are the mysteries pondered by a stay-at-home mom.

Repetion

This is Sabrina her last day as an only child! She looks so happy, with NO IDEA of what is about to descend upon her!



The descent

My nephew, Bode, is a talking outlier. Genius. Apparently, at the age of 2 1/2, he knew and sang all the words to the Primary program while sitting on the bench next to Grandma (Mom to me). I'm sure it's just the four-month difference in Sabrina and Bode that's the difference, but Sabrina is catching up. For example:

She likes to sing, "No more monkeys jumpin ona bed!"

She says "Mommy, stopit!" I hate that one.

I also hate "Mommy, wake up!" Since daylight savings time deserted us, this happens earlier than before. Also, I wake up in the middle of the night.

Whenever she drops something, she says "Oh shoot!" I'll have to teach her "Oh my heck" for Aunt Suzanne.

She can also sing "Twinkle Star" and "Childa God" when I sing with her.

In other news, Sasha is still working on sleeping, eating, and pooping. All tasks are coming along admirably, and boy can he smile! I turn into a blathering idiot when he smiles. You know, "Whosa happy guy? Dasa happy boy! Oh, smiles!" Then he laughs at me, leading to more blathering. Satisfying for all concerned.

The Voting Booth

Along with 92% of independents in this country, I have a negative impression of
Nancy Pelosi. I'm also ticked at the Democrats in general. So, it is with this attitude that I went to the voting booth. And I discovered I have become my father.

See, Dad tends to vote Republican on the national level and Democrat on the local level. (At least, this is what he told me about 20 years ago when I asked. This is not an endorsement by Joe Buys of any candidate or position, although that would be good enough for me.) He also votes against incumbent senators. So, I get into the booth and can't vote for Mike Lee, the (R) senator candidate. Or any of the (R) state representatives or senators. So despite my current distaste for national (D)s, I voted almost straight-ticket Democrat. Not that it mattered, since I live in Utah and almost everyone I voted for lost. Of course, that's one of the reasons I voted for the (D)s.

I also voted in favor of the secret ballot amendment. Because NO ONE as the right to know how I voted, darn it!

Co-Sleepers are Wrong

Now, I generally try to avoid making value judgments about stuff that doesn't affect me or others too much, like co-sleeping, but I'd just like to say, for the record, that co-sleeping advocates are wrong.

This morning, Zane woke up at 6:30 to go to the gym. He could not find his coat. In order to not leave you in suspense, he had left it in the car. ANYWAY, he turned on 90% of the house lights and spoke in a daytime (as opposed to middle of the night, which 6:30 IS) voice. So, both kids woke up.

Once Zane found his coat and left, I was in my bed with two kids. Sasha grunted and whimpered for a while, then went back to sleep. Of course, I could not move much, because he might wake up or I might roll over him and suffocate him, not that I'm paranoid. Sabrina, however, did not go back to sleep. She talked to herself, sang, insisted on lying on top of me, and various parts of her anatomy bumped into my fullish bladder and c-section scar. I didn't last long.

See? Co-sleepers = wrong.