What Is This?

Soap for dinner...

James was in the bathtub tonight and asked me to come watch him make bubbles.  This is what he did:

Later on, I heard James telling Sam that he would never put soap in his mouth again.

What was for lunch...

Me:  James, what did you have for lunch?  Did you have orange chicken and rice?
James:  No I had rice and brown chicken.
Me:  Did the chicken taste like an orange?
James:  No, it tasted brownish.

I thought I could...

  I thought that being here in Utah with Paul being in Nevada was going to be a piece of cake.  Easy enough that I could go out there for the summer and then come back here by myself with the kids for another school year.  Two weeks into this party and I have already been proven wrong.  James managed to clog the toilet this morning.  Now I have plunged many a toilet, but this one proved a bit overwhelming.  Two different plungers down, a toilet snake used and finally I had to employ the services of my mother-in-law and her elbow grease to finish the task.  Men are useful and I am ready to move now...well that is after this school year is over.

The Sleeping Pill

If the purpose of a sleeping pill is to help me fall asleep, then why, two hours after taking the pill, am I fighting these effects in order to get more accomplished?  Duh!  Just go to sleep, Emily!

Pizza

Tonight was homemade pizza for dinner.  Homemade sauce and homemade crust.  The boys got to do their own toppings.  Dinner was a success.

 

 

What is This?

Here is the What is This? picture for Monday, January 25, 2010.  Good Luck!

I am aware that this pictures is a little small.  It was the biggest I could get it without having a blurry picture.  Have fun with it!

Ode to Melvin and Sophie

Melvin and Sophie, two wonderful cats,
We've enjoyed having you sit at our feet.
But by now you've found out
If you pee on a bed
You'll find yourself out on the street.

The Angel and The Devil

 I was going through some files on my computer tonight and found a few things that I wrote last year around this time.  I thought I would post a couple of them.  Here is one of them:

         I love to go to church.  To spend three hours on Sunday dedicated to strengthening my spirituality.  However, it can be difficult for me to be motivated to get dressed when I don’t feel very well.  If my husband enjoyed going to church, and would push me to get ready, it would probably be easier.  Then I have my two boys.  My seven year old is saying, “Mama, let’s go to church.  I want to go to church.”  And then I have my five year old saying, “I don’t want to go to church, mama!  I want to stay home and play!”  It’s like I have an angel on one shoulder telling me to do the right thing and the devil on the other trying to get me to stay home.  

Writing

  Sometimes lately, I get the urge to write.  I’m not sure why this is.  I mean how can you live for almost thirty years and then one day wake up and think, “Hmm, I want to write?”  It seems somewhat an unusual idea, but here I am at eight o’clock on a Saturday night, in front of my computer while my husband has taken my oldest son to the movies.  It’s like the little voice in the deep recesses of my mind has emerged from hibernation and taken over and exiled the timid, logical, non-writing, normal self to the nearest cave with a blanket and a cupboard full of food.  I haven’t quite decided if this new development is something I’m willing to embrace or if I need to gather up a search and rescue team to look for the old me. 

Tired

  I am tired.  Tired of noise.  Tired of toys and socks in the middle of the living room floor.  Tired of sore feet.  Tired of rotten food in the back of the refrigerator. Tired of aching joints.  Tired of saying, “Boys be quiet, it’s bedtime!”  Tired of judgmental people.  Tired of not knowing…lots of things.  Tired of pills.  Tired of sweating.  Tired of buying toilet paper.  I am just plain old tired.  I’m sure I could write a whole book about what I’m tired of and then at the end would be:  I’m tired of…writing.

Leftovers

I used to hate leftovers.  The idea of eating the same thing a couple nights in a row just wasn't appealing.  Despite that, I always find myself making too much at dinner time.  I could not be a caterer.  I have no sense of how much to cook for the amount of eaters.  

Now I have moved out of that phase and instead of not enjoying leftovers, I hate the idea of wasting any extras.  So to balance these two opinions, I have started taking leftovers and making them into something new for the next night.  Bringing out the creativity in me.  Last night, I took the kids out to JB's for dinner.  We left there with some of James' french fries and some of Sam's leftover bacon.  I have never before tried to be creative with leftovers from a restaurant.  But tonight I decided to give it a try.  Here's what I came up with:

I sliced up a couple of onions and sauteed them in butter over med heat until soft.  I chopped up the french fries and crumbled the bacon and added those to the skillet when the onion was ready.  I seasoned with salt, pepper, paprika and garlic powder.  

It turned out yummy. Now my leftovers are gone and I feel comfortable making something new tomorrow!

You are not going anywhere...

Sophie was determined today that the part of the printer that moves back and forth was not going to get up and go anywhere.

What is This?

I have finally updated this weeks What is This? picture.  Good luck!

I want to move when...

James:  Mom, why are you and dad separated?
Me:  Daddy is working for Grandpa now, and I need to stay with you here while you go to school.
James:  Oh.
Sam:  That doesn't make sense.
Me:  I don't want to move until you boys and myself have finished the school year.  Does that make sense?
Sam:  Yeah.
James:  I don't want to move. 
Me:  We are going out for the Summer and then we will decide what to do.
James:  Ok.  I don't want to move until the summer but when it is still winter.
Me:  Oh, so you don't ever want to move, because summer and winter will never come at the same time.
James:  I don't want to move until I'm bigger.
Sam:  She'll be dead then.
James:  I mean until I'm Colin's age.
Sam:  She'll be dead then.
Me:  Excuse me, but I plan on living a lot longer than that!

Beef. It's what's for dinner.

Actually, this is the leftover beef/elk meatloaf in an onion gravy over whole wheat flax noodles.  Can you say YUM!

What is This?

Here is this weeks picture.  Good luck, and don't forget to email me your answers to emilyagiles@gmail.com.  If you wish, you may call me or tell me when you see me too! 

Still Alive

In case any of you were wondering, I am still alive. 

So don't put it there

Paul brought home a few things from Exotica when he came from Salt Lake today.  One of them was this dragon.

I was trying to figure out a place to put it.  So I put it on my bookshelf by my clock to see if it worked there.  The problem with that spot is that it is right by the flimsy wallboard that is right by James' bed.  So I said:

Me:  James you had better not knock this off by kicking the wall or else.

James:  Or else what?

Me:  You'll be grounded for life.

James:  So don't put it there.

Guess he told me.  

Cinnamon Rolls

I unexpectedly received a knock on my door about an hour ago.  It was my visiting teachers.  We had a really good visit and they brought some homemade cinnamon rolls.  These are definitely the best homemade cinnamon rolls I have ever had.  They even beat out my recipe!  Sorry I don't have smell-o-puter installed.  So for dinner tonight I decided not to make meatloaf and instead we ate cinnamon rolls.  MMMMMMmmmmm.

Thank you Tabitha and Coby!

Not my teacher's problem

Today was Utah's birthday.  I was unaware of this fact until after school when James' class came parading down the halls blowing birthday kazoo things.  You know, those cheaply made, obnoxious noise makers? After several noisy moments, I asked James to stop for awhile and you know what he told me?  He said, "It's not my teachers problem anymore."  

Yes, as soon as they walked out of the classroom, his teacher let them blow them and said they were not her problem anymore.

Thanks Miss Zirker!

Fact

If you don't clean out the kitty litter regularly, cats will pee on your freshly laundered bedding.

[Guess I need to do a better job of making sure Sam does his job every other night!]

Back to reality

Against my explicit wishes, I was violently thrust back into reality this morning by the relentless ring of my alarm clock, followed quickly by the sound of James, "Mom can I please turn on the light?"  Monday morning has reared its ugly face.  Now the kids are off to school, Samuel with his home lunch in tow and a garbage bag full of plastic recyclables and I am back home for a four hour respite before its back to the grindstone.  Bring it on first graders.  If I can handle this morning, I can manage anything else this day has in store.  That's why God has provided us with Xanax.

Picture a Day

Thanks to the rest of the fam and their pictures a day/week, I have decided to do the same thing this year.  This new blog will be linked on my regular blog.  Here is the link: A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words.  Enjoy!

A Year of Gratitude

I have decided to take a little time everyday to think of something I am thankful for in the hopes of keeping a positive, upbeat attitude all year long.  If you would like to follow my new blog, you can find it at 365 Days of Gratitude.  I also have a link to it on this blog.

MegaFault

We watched this movie tonight called MegaFault where they had to blast another grand canyon in Wyoming in order to stop an earthquake that had traveled across the country from West Virginia.  

Sam:  Is this how the Grand Canyon was formed?

Paul:  No.  The Grand Canyon was formed by the Pilgrims and the Indians and all of their kids.  They used hammers made out of wood and chiseled it away.

Sam:  Oh.  They didn't blast it?

Paul:  No, they spent many years chiseling it away.

Me: Okay Sam, ask dad the most important question. 

Sam:  How was the Mississippi River formed?

Me:  No Sam, I meant why!

I really wanted to see how Paul would answer the question of why the Pilgrims formed the Grand Canyon.  When Sam finally asked him why, he said, "I don't know, ask your mother."