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The Secret is Out: We Have Moved!

by Lucky Red Hen on September 22, 2011

Left: the view of our backyard in WA ___ Right: the view out our UT living room

The cat is out of the bag! Wait, we don’t have a cat. Yes, we have moved back to Utah, the beehive state (and, boy, do we have bees!)

Now before you get bent out of shape because you didn’t know, let me tell you that it was SO HARD to tell our friends and family about the news. Almost every time I did (for Ben it wasn’t so emotional; remember, I’m a girl), I’d get a guilt trip instead of encouragement. So after the handful of people I told (and made them swear they’d keep it a secret, remember that post?) I decided not to tell people… and I have gotten PLENTY of flack for that choice.

I have been yelled at, belittled, and dragged through the emotional mud that I wasn’t doing things the way “everyone else” does it. If you think you’re one of the people who did that, please don’t contact me asking if it was you. I don’t really remember who said/did what and don’t want to rehash the negativity. I just want to share my experience because apparently I’m the ONLY ONE who would move without telling everyone. Perhaps I cannot convince you of my reasoning. I shouldn’t have to, should I?

But put yourself in my shoes. There are, say, 200 people in Washington for me to tell. You, 1 person, feel super bummed that we’re moving. Me, 1 person, receive those super bummed vibes TWO HUNDRED TIMES! After 10 super bummed vibes I was getting depressed. Not depressed that we were moving, because that decision was clearly the right thing to do, just sad to be moving away from so many great people.

And all the questions! Why?!? Where are you moving to? What about your renters? What are you doing with your house? Will you rent it (SO MANY people asked me that)? How do the kids feel? What if they don’t adjust to the move? What about hubby’s job? When will you come visit? What are you thinking? Why? Why? Why?

At first we didn’t have all the answers, and telling them 200 times was a chore (plus, is it really anyone’s business about the details? I didn’t understand why some people, especially those who we aren’t close to, asked such personal questions.) Then I wanted to surprise my UT friends that we were back (because every time I’d come visit these last four years, that’s the first thing I’d get asked; “When are you moving back?”)

So here are the deets for moving back to UT: the 8yr old custom built (I designed it) house we already own is twice as big for 1/2 the price, has a stellar neighborhood (kids to play with, safe streets to ride bikes/scooters on, easily accessible playground and basketball court across the street, in-ground trampoline, great neighbors), amazing view (you should see it come 4th and 24th of July – we see five cities fireworks; and when it snows it’s beautiful!), camping/hiking/fishing within five minutes, longer motorcycle riding season (lots of long, flat roads to cruise), Carrabba’s restaurant where I get great food and great service, and loads of incredibly wonderful friends who treat us like family. We moved here from Washington for five years and moved back to WA for four years. Now we’re back for at least 10 while the kids finish school.

Now I’m not going to bag on WA. We didn’t move because we didn’t like it (but, I have to be honest, the rain WAS getting annoying, even though we were used to it). We loved it there, we have lived there the longest of anywhere (both our families are from WA), and have incredibly wonderful friends and family there who we’ll miss :( But because we have family there, we’ll be back to visit!

We got here in time for school to start (like a week before) and the kids have adjusted amazingly well. Our son loves his Boy Scout troop and is taking an acting class (performing a play in the spring). Our daughter already has several friends from the neighborhood to play with and enjoys spending the days outside riding her bike and scooter. They both have bigger rooms that are quietly tucked away upstairs and a cozy basement for movie watching. There is less sibling fighting now that they have other people to play with and break up the monotony of always being with each other. The sun is a welcome change to the gloom of the NW, even though the heat of the summer is pretty killer (thank goodness for A/C!) We love to be back at our church that’s around the corner (all the churches here are “around the corner” ha ha).

Please know that if I didn’t tell you myself and this is the first time finding out, it’s not because I don’t like/love you. Once we made the final decision to move, there was so many details to figure out and physically/mentally challenging duties as well. Getting the WA house ready to sell, decide what to pack and what to get rid of, pack all those things, deal with a moving company, all the paperwork to sell the house, show the house, etc. was overwhelming enough then to prep to move back into the UT house after four years of renters added to the stress.

It’s barely been a month and I’m just now feeling like I might have a handle on things. No, all the boxes aren’t unpacked yet. No, I haven’t been able to see all my friend’s here in person to tell them myself. Yes, we are happy with the move and excited for the next chapter of our lives!

Love,
me

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Would YOU Do This On A Plane?!?

by Lucky Red Hen on September 12, 2011

Instead of flying yesterday, September 11th, I instead flew the day before, avoiding much of the drama (http://abcnews.go.com/Blotter/911-airplane-scare-fbi-bathroom-make-outs/story?id=14501455) that was inevitably going to happen the day after.

It was a long day start to finish… left the house at 9:30am and arrived in Texas at 6:30pm, stopping in Phoenix (to change planes and eat at Nathan’s Famous Dog’s – perfect fries, but wish I would’ve eaten a Chicken Caesar Salad instead of the fried tenders and cola beverage) and Albuquerque (yeah, I spelled that right the FIRST time WITHOUT spell check, thankyouverymuch; is that a tell tale sign I’m a New Mexican? Hey! Does that sorta mean I’m a Mexican?!? Ei ei ei!!!).

Because of the long day, I ended up partaking of the free (boring) in-flight (dry) snacks (could I get a celery stick over here?) and making a mess (this, folks, is NOT shocking). Unfortunately I am NOT known for my personal tidiness. Not that I’m a slob, I don’t think (please refrain from contradicting me and bursting my bubble), but I think that my protruding shirt gets in the way of my mouth and the floor where the ninja dog can clean up my spills. Butter. Butter is the WORST culprit and cause of my expanding shirt budget.

So the notorious honey-roasted peanuts are what did me in this day. Their salty sweetness hook me every time. There are only about five nuts in that tiny bag, but those five are nestled in billions of salty-sweet particles of goodness! I place the partially opened tiny bag toward my mouth and pop a couple nuts in, but my teeth end up touching the bag :p Eww. We don’t know where that bag has BEEN! The next attempt I find myself tilting my head way back so I won’t accidentally have teeth-to-bag touchage, and instead have billions of salty-sweet-particles-to-cleavage touchage instead! Eek!

RIGHT. DOWN. THE. EVERYTHING.

Being the good sport I am (usually), I giggle and shake my head. The steward happens by me at just that moment and says with a concerned look, “Is there something I can do for you?” I giggle again, “Um, probably not. I just poured salty-sweet goodness down the inside of my shirt!” “Ahh! Yeah, I guess I can’t help you with that,” he replied with a wink.

When I stand up to head to the lavatory so I can clean the particles out, I notice they fall further and spread sideways with the gravity. Great. Spreadage.

However, and this is where the story gets good (to me, maybe you’ll gross out – in fact, if you’re even slightly cautious about more-than-likely grossing out because you know me and how I am pretty good at doing that, you may want to stop here. At the end of it all I am cleaned up and salty-sweetnessed free.)

In the lavatory, I decide that I might as well take advantage of my morning’s Facebook post (plus it’d be the most efficient way to make sure to be particle-free). Here’s how it went:

My status update: Wear mascara for a day of flying and layovers or go au naturale so I don’t have to worry about raccoon eyes if I fall asleep on the plane?

Bob: Do they let you go au naturale on a public plane?

Me: Haha, Bob :) Maybe I’ll have to do that in the lavatory just to say I did ;)

So I did. I even pulled my feet out from my flip flops (stood on top of them; there’s NO WAY I’d touch that floor with my bare feet – have you SEEN it in there after a little boy comes out when there’s been turbulence?!?) I was buck nekid at 30,000 or so feet :D It wasn’t easy (those lavatories aren’t built for comfort) nor flattering (fluorescent lights and gravity pull at that altitude, oy), but I can say that’s the highest point I’ve ever been nekid :D

Q: What have YOU done that’s uncommon/rare on a plane?

P.S. Sorry, no picture for today’s post :p Actually, I’m doing YOU a favor ;)

[edit: I’ve received one text from someone who’s joined my club since inspiring them with this post. Haha!]

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Middle Name Mellay

by Lucky Red Hen on July 1, 2011

My daughter is eight and doesn’t know how to spell her middle name. Is that bad?

It’s not like she has to use it anytime soon. There aren’t college applications to fill out, driver’s licenses to apply for, police encounters, or other legal situations that require knowing her middle name.

She at least knows how to pronounce it. And she knows it starts with a ‘d’.

See, that’s the other thing is that her middle name has a capital letter, just not at the beginning O_O

“WHAT?!?”

Yes.

I just asked her what her middle name is and she said it. Then I asked her to spell it…

D, uh, A… no, I mean E, um… L? O X E?

Sad, isn’t it? Have we failed her as parents because we haven’t taught her yet? Should we sign up to be on Dr. Phil to discuss our dysfunction?

The other trick about her middle name is that it’s French. Poor thing is not bilingual.

Maybe this can be our summer goal… learn how to spell your middle name.

P.S. It’s not a made-up, wacky spelled nayme :p We got it from an artist we know (and have one of her painting’s). The girls in her family all have the same middle name (and it has an official crest as well!) I had told my best friend that if I had a girl, I’d name her middle name after her. Well, her first and middle didn’t work as well for my daughter’s middle name so we went with her last name, Low. It’s spelled differently, but sounds the same.

P.S.S. Because I know you’re curious… her middle name is duLaux (pronounced dew-LOW). Sometimes we pronounce it “deluxe” for fun, but as a nickname and not the proper pronunciation because paired with her first name it kind of sounds like a stripper :p

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Some Songs I Like

by Lucky Red Hen on July 1, 2011

A list of artists I’m suggesting my mother-in-law check out:

Allen Stone, Last to Speak
The Colbie Caillat, album Coco
Corinne Bailey Rae, self-titled album
Haley Sales, Sunseed
Jillian Edwards, Galaxies & Such
Joshua Radin, We Were Here
The Lower Lights, A Hymn Revival
Meaghan Smith, The Cricket’s Quartet
Melody Gardot, My One and Only Thrill -and/or- Worrisome Heart
Mindy Gledhill, Anchor
Sara Bareilles, Little Voice
Tonic, Lemon Parade
The Wailin’ Jennys, Firecracker
The Weepies, Hideaway
William Fitzsimmons, Until When We Are Ghosts

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Church Services: Why is my lap hot and wet?

by Lucky Red Hen on June 22, 2011

Jarring blog title, perhaps?

Well, that’s the first thing that came to mind when reguarding my experience in church one Sunday.

Usually I’m not one to interact with people’s little children (that’s a whole ‘nother post), but this particular Sunday I wanted to.

The mother was there alone with her kids and her little fella’s shoes were untied. The service was almost over and I knew he’d be going to his class and thought it’d be helpful if I swooped him up to tie his shoes for her (he’s pretty little, not really speaking at all, so 2-ish? I really have no idea; I forget how old I am).

This little fella and I have always gotten along (I’ve known him since before he was born… wait, that doesn’t make sense; you know what I mean). He’s a sweetheart, gentle and well-behaved. His cherub-like face would melt your hard heart (if you had one, and I’m not saying you do).

So this wasn’t a surprise to him that I’d swoop him up, I’ve done it many times in his life. The surprise came after I was done.

(whispering) “Let’s get this shoe tied. Over, under, make a loop, wrap one around, stick the other through and pull! … “OK, let’s do the same thing on the other shoe… over, under, make a loop, wrap one around, stick the other through and pull!” His eyes looked up at mine in appreciation. All done! Lift him off my lap…

…what the?!?

Moisture on my hand. Oops, his diaper must be full and it seeped out the side a little when he was squished on my lap.

Leaned over to his mother and said it seems his diaper is full because I got a little wet. Her inquisitive expression confused me then she said, “He’s not wearing a diaper.”

O_O

Grabbed my phone from my lap and felt it was wet, too.

Looked down.

See that my phone has considerable wettness on the front and side then notice the 6″ round spot on my skirt… the wet spot on the bottom of my shirt…

“Oh. My. Gosh!” she looked horrified and apologized profusely. I think she realized the severity of it before I did. I told her not to worry about it, it’s not like SHE did it (wouldn’t THAT be awkward) and besides… it makes for great blog material.

He just pee’d a full pee and it was in my lap, oozing wherever it could find places to go (you know what I mean).

{shiver}

When I stood up, I could feel the warmth trickle through my underthings. Yes, gross, but freaking out wouldn’t have helped. I calmly asked Ben for the car keys so I could go home to shower and change. I needed to be back within the hour.

Rumor has it that the little guy has been potty training for a couple months. Maybe he’s not ready (you think?)

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Babysitting Wages: How much is too little?

by Lucky Red Hen on June 17, 2011

Wickedly Awesome Babysitter and Our Family

How does a parent find out how much to pay a babysitter in their area; it must be different for a family in New York vs. a family in a small town in Kansas, don’t you think?

A woman posed the question on Facebook recently for our area:
OP: What is the going rate these days, per child, per hour, for a babysitter?
Answer: ‎$7-8 per hour, although some people pay more. Many girls won’t tell you how much they charge; but if you don’t pay enough, they are never available. :)
OP: Thanks for the info.
Another: She is spot on!

The current Washington State minimum wage is $8.67 (federal is $7.25). Am I supposed to believe that we should be paying a 12-15 year old about the same or more than what an adult can get at a business? Perhaps it’s my frugal (i.e. broke) nature to be so *ahem* cheap, but I’ve been paying $4/hr for non-driving babysitters (12-15ish) and $5/hr for driving babysitters (16-18) and have had no problem with availability.

As a matter of fact, I’ve traded services for babysitting and haven’t paid out of pocket for a sitter in over six months. That’s not to say that people who watch my kids aren’t WORTH paying… just that we’ve been lucky to have people who love to come over and watch them.

A text conversation tonight with a preschool teacher:
Me: I want to have more babies just so you can preschool them :) (but I really don’t want to have babies)
Them: Hahaha. Well, if you ever do, I shall preschool them for free! Because you’re awesome and your offspring are awesome!
Me: Yesss (fist pump). But you’re worth $20/hr [this person has been paid to babysit for that much by other families]
Them: Just so you know, if I wasn’t already occupied, I would totally offer to babysit your kids… and for free!

Maybe the gal that says “but if you don’t pay enough, they are never available” has high maintenance children that nobody wants to babysit. Or maybe she adds housework on top of it. I hear some parents leave a list of things to do when the kids are asleep: laundry, dishes, vacuum, dusting, take out the garbage, clean the bathroom(s), etc. Yeah, if I had to do manual labor, then I’d be unavailable every time she called me to babysit.

Our babysitter’s get to watch two cool kids who can feed themselves, are polite, like to play video games (that the babysitter’s like to play) and can watch movies while eating/drinking our stuff after bedtime. We ask them to clean up meals (wipe the counter of crumbs, put the dishes in the sink, put away the food) but our kids are responsible for everything else they messed up while the sitter is here. Unless the teens have a school/church/friend function that keeps them from being available, they’d rather come to our house to hang out “babysitting” and make a few bucks than stay at home doing the same thing for nothing ;)

Comments section: Don’t be mad at me for being frugal and don’t compare teenager babysitting rates with professional service prices.

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Kitchen Utensils: Spatulas, Presses & Spoons

by Lucky Red Hen on June 10, 2011

Spatulas: Why do they make some that can’t handle high heat? Aren’t spatulas made for flipping hot skillet foods (eggs, pancakes, meats, etc.)? I can’t remember which spatula can handle hot and which one cannot. They should ALL be high-heat resistant. If I need to flip cold stuff, I could use my hands. {or leave it unflipped}

If most of the utensils in the dishwasher are spoons, shouldn’t that be a warning that you consume way too much cereal and/or ice cream? {yes, there is such a thing as too much}

Cutting French bread that’s been cut in half and slathered in butter (particularly garlic butter with herbs) creates a dilemma. Trying to slice into individual pieces while butter-side up makes a crushed mess. The better way to get slices without crushing it to smithereens would be to turn it butter-side down, but then you lose buttery goodness. {sigh}

As garlic presses go, I think I have tried enough to conclude that the Pampered Chef one is the bomb. I have had an OXO, Cutco (great knives, crappy garlic press) and other non-recognizable brand presses and the PC one reigns supreme. You don’t need to peel the garlic before sticking it in the press and it gets it ALL minced without leftovers. {I don’t dig waste}

By the way, if you need to peel your garlic, stick it in your rubber husband (that’s what we call our rubber jar opener thingys) and roll it around your hand or on the counter a few times. {instead of buying Martha’s expensive rubber tube that does the same thing}

Tongs in long and short versions are always handy and pretty cheap. I suggest having the kind that have a lever at the bend that locks them closed for easy storage. The kind with the metal ring you push back and forth to lock seem to malfunction and cause me grief. Less grief in my kitchen the better. {which means I might cook more often}

Have you heard of a butter bell? It’s a European thing, that allows you to have room temperature butter without worry of spoiling. There are physics involved, which isn’t my strong suit, so know that it works without needing to know how (the water in the crock creates an airtight seal, which prevents spoiling/bacteria to form). We recently said “peace out” to the perfectly red Fiesta Ware-type butter dish when it accidentally crashed to the floor, so our room temperature butter sits on a mini-plate on the counter. Gross, I know, but we need soft butter at a moments notice. {margarine won’t do}

Anything you want to add or suggest? Stick it in the comments!

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Respectful Disagreements on Breastfeeding

by Lucky Red Hen on April 28, 2011

Recently, I’ve had friends blog and Tweet about the support of breastfeeding anywhere, anytime, and without covering up (I lurv those friends, this post isn’t about them). Then this section of a KSL.com article got some pretty feisty comments on their Facebook page and I couldn’t keep from saying something about the ruckus.

Cover it up!
Nursing mothers should avoid breastfeeding uncovered around others. Ottley said she is a huge proponent of breastfeeding, having breastfed four children herself, but there’s a way it can be done in public without making others feel uncomfortable. In public places, or when others besides your significant other and children will be around (and maybe your sisters and mom), figure out the best way to cover yourselves and do it, please.

I’m a little appalled by the way most of the proponents chose to defend their opinion. However, I DO believe they have the right, and it’s necessary, to voice their opinion; but wish they would do so politely.

Oh, wait. But they don’t want to be polite. They want to do whatever they want, whenever they want, and however they want with no regard for those around them; everyone else should mind their own business and get over it. That IS pretty much the gist of what their argument is about when all that was said was “cover up, please.”

Here is the comment I posted, trying to explain why some prefer not to see uncovered public breastfeeding (not trying to change anyone’s mind about how they should feel about it… I understand their POV, why can’t they understand, not agree, the opposing view?):

My opinion: I agree with the writer for suggesting that it’s polite to cover up while breast feeding in public.

It’s polite to fart away from people. It’s polite to wipe food from outside your mouth with a napkin. It’s polite to pull up your pants so your butt crack isn’t showing. It’s polite to cover your mouth when you cough or sneeze. These are all natural things that pretty much everyone does that society has deemed appropriate behavior even though it’s legal to fart wherever you want, leave food on your face, wear your pants down low and cough or sneeze without catching it.

The issue isn’t that the baby is being FED, of COURSE the baby should be fed at anytime that it needs food.

Breast feeding is WONDERFULLY BEAUTIFUL… so is French kissing but it’s generally not done blatantly in public because it’s polite to go somewhere private to do so. Is that a better analogy?

I’m not saying that breastfeeding is like or comparable to those acts (maybe I should have said metaphor or simile; perhaps I’ll be studying a dictionary later). I’m saying that we have public behavior and private behavior. I believe we should conduct ourselves based on the circumstance. We are quiet in a library, we can yell in a park. You dress up for the red carpet, wear sweats at home while watching TV. The dog has to have a leash in town, but at home he’s free to roam.

For crying out loud I’m not saying that feeding a baby is like being in a library, going out to somewhere fancy, watching TV, or a DOG.

If I were to travel to Japan, I would find out what the customs are and do my best to respect their culture; remove my shoes upon entering their house, bow to the elders with respect, use chopsticks instead of a fork (I can do it, it just gets a little messy sometimes).

There were some rude things also said about/to the author of the article on that Facebook page. Without KNOWING the author or commentors, here are some comment snips:

  • breastfeeding mothers… have to deal with this type of hate on them?
  • If someone is so twisted that an innocent baby eating offends them, THEY should cover their head with a blanket. Smarten up and CHANGE YOUR ARTICLE!
  • That’s just daft and an example of poor writing.
  • It is articles like this that help continue the dismal breastfeeding rates… we make them feel like exhibitionists or morally inept… while in the presence of anybody other than their dog in the dark of their homes with the shades drawn! It’s absurd! Please stop letting your issues with the human body jeopardize the health of any mothers and babies by putting out such irresponsible and ignorant articles!
  • we are more comfortable seeing breasts when they are airbrushed and sexualized in print or film, rather than fulfilling their original purpose
  • …illogical sexual undertone to process of feeding an infant at the breast while at the same time encouraging our preteen girls to dress provocatively and allowing TV shows to sexualize nearly everything!
  • Dear [Author]: PLEASE put a bag or a blanket over YOUR head while YOU are eating!
  • to the author, if you wanted to broadcast your anti-breasts agenda, why try to hide it in a piece about pregnancy? It didn’t work anyway.
  • positively infantile preoccupation with bosoms!
  • hiring etiquette writers who have an education and are able to demonstrate a familiarity with their topic
  • a healthy number of lulzy prudes squabbling with them. Pathetic. Sad. As pathetic as hiring some ditz who, going by her blog, struggles with some pretty basic rules of English, and pretending that this person has some useful insight into culture.
  • holy fragglenuggets! get some HELP
  • (To a commentor) I hope you someday realise how sick you are before someone has to shoot you like a rabid dog.
  • I believe the etiquette expert should apologize to everyone she has offended.
  • Maybe they could use a real expert this time.

This afternoon I visited with a couple who I’ve known for over ten years. It seems that we believe almost the opposite of each other of most taboo subjects (politics, religion, sex), yet we love each other very, very much. We talked about how our written words can get lost in our meaning or intent. Without seeing the face that’s saying it, or hearing the tone, the words are interpreted however the reader hears it in their head. Our desire to get to the point and avoid the fluff gets the three of us in trouble sometimes. What we say in a few sentences takes others paragraphs of filler because we’re to-the-point and they’re side-stepping to avoid hurting feelings (which does not mean I like to hurt feelings).

“I kicked the dog,” said in a soft tone, slight down tilt of the lips, and an emphasis on kicked to denote shock or sorrow (as in it-was-an-accident and I didn’t see the dog under my feet) is written the same but meant entirely different from “I kicked the dog,” said with a scowl, gritted teeth, and an emphasis on I to denote pride in the act (because the guy is a jerk).

Although this post is all about public breastfeeding, I really meant for it to be about the way we disagree and conduct discussions on differing opinion.

And to bouy my emotions back to a regular level (and probably give me a little justification that I’m not twisted), I’ll share this snip from someone who wrote to me about the other commentors vs. my comment:

Absolutely shocked. And saddened. I realize opinions always open the door to criticism, but I greatly admire a woman who can express that criticism in a respectful and courteous way.

Agreed.

P.S. Remember, keep comments classy, folks :)

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