Sun Beam

Not surprisingly, Jesus wants me for a Sunbeam........ teacher.

Us Mormons all have jobs, or "callings" that we volunteer our time for. Everyone works for free. Most callings only take a few hours a week.

Soon after we moved to Utah and Ryan attended his first few primary meetings, Husband and I were assigned to be the 3-4 year old's teachers.
This wasn't a shock. Ryan's questionable behavior in church gave me a gut feeling that I would be punished.
About 8 little kids regularly attend.

It's cool though.

I'm basically a professional kid wrangler, so it's a piece of cake.

I enforce my usual kid rules:

1. No violence.
2. Don't tap me and say, "teacherrrr......"
3. Shut up.
4. For reals, don't freaking tap me.

A usual Sunday school lesson goes like this:

  • 1:15-1:25  Kids tell me about their weeks and anything cool they did, that way later in the lesson I can cut them off and tell them they already had their turn to talk without feeling bad about myself.

  • 1:25-1:40  Snack - because 3 hours of church is a long time and I get hungry.

  • 1:40-1:42  Lesson - though we sometimes don't take up the full two minutes because low attention spans.

  • 1:42-2:00  Some lame activity that loosely relates to lesson from my boys and girls club craft stockpile.

If we have extra time I let them color on themselves or put stickers all over their faces. Sometimes the kids school me on when you shouldn't say the "F" word, or who in their family is being a "sassy pants". It's precious.

Pretty easy and preparation is minimal, so I can't complain. I like that I can keep a close watch on Ryan since he has no social grace.
Plus, let's be honest, primary is wayyyyyy better than sitting through adult classes.


House Porn

Jared and I (and by that I mean, Jared only) remodeled both of our previous houses. It sucks major balls to live through months and months of remodeling mess, but it's cool to pick out exactly what you want and make your husband build it.

 Our Utah house is not a rotting heap of 1960's vomit, so I feel a little weird about living here. It sort of creeps me out that I have a working oven (not that I use it), a garage, and baseboards. 

Every time I flush a tampon down the toilet, I have an instant freak out until I remember that we don't have a septic tank.

I feel like I stole something since I moved into a decent house. Like I don't deserve it unless it's nasty and I pay my dues of living in filth, years of remodeling, and spending tons of money on materials.

But don't worry, I'll cope.... in a nice house...

While remodeling our Ohio house we found copious amounts of porn circa the 1960-70's, but this is not the type of house porn I'm referring too.
BTW, I knew it was was 1960-70's porn because pubes.

I'm talking about real estate porn. 
It doesn't make financial sense to remodel the Utah house, so I have to cheat on it and fuel my desires online.

I'm so ashamed that I wait until Husband goes to bed, then I sneak on the computer.

Sometimes I'm brazen enough to look at it right next to him.

If I want to mix things up, I explore different housing styles.

I could look at it all day. I need to stop.
It's controlling my life.

I wonder if LDS family services facilitates support groups for house porn addiction?


Lemonade and Legos

There is an AWESOME Lego store 30 min from our house.
Ryan is obsessed. I think he might even like Legos more than the nasty McDonald's Playplace.

We try to teach Ryan that when he wants to do fun things or buy toys, he has to earn his own money. Awesome parent award goes to me.

He told me one day that he wanted to sell lemonade.
I wasn't about to let my tiny kid sell it on the street because Ted Bundy and Ariel Castro. *shivers

I was all proud that Ryan came up with his own idea to make money, usually he earns money around the house for pulling weeds, emptying the dishwasher and putting his clothes away. 

I decided he could sell lemonade at my parents house during one of our family dinners. He helped me make a lame sign and make the lemonade.

I didnt want my family to feel obligated to buy lemonade, so I secretly passed out quarters to everyone.
Awesome parent award 2 goes to me.

He sold the crap out of that lemonade so we went to the Lego store and Ryan lived happily ever after.... for 10 minutes.