My Little All Star

Guess who finally fits into his itty bitty Chuck Taylors?

Things at Which I Do Not Excel, Part II

Removing Whatever I’m Storing in the Oven Before Preheating It

I got this habit from my mom of storing baked goods in the oven. It might have something to do with the fact that we had ants in California. Who knows? But for some reason whenever I make brownies, I feel the need to cover the uneaten portion with plastic wrap and store them in the oven. And then the next day when it’s time to preheat the oven to pop in a frozen pizza, I never look inside to make sure it’s empty. Never ever.

It’s not even like I cook brownies OR pizza that often. The probability of me using the oven two days in a row is super slim, but for some reason it always happens.

The first time it happened, I thought I learned my lesson. “Silly me,” I thought. “I’ll never make that mistake again.” And then I made that mistake again a week later. And then a week after that.

The third time it happened, I called Ben and said, “You’re not going to believe what I did.” Only instead of saying, “Dyed your hair purple?” or “Taught Liam how to read?” he said, “Turned on the oven while something was inside?”

The Type of Confession that Should Be Made Long Before Marriage

Remember those Choose Your Own Adventure books from elementary school, where you get to page 16 and have to decide whether to turn to page 24 to open the door in front of you or turn to page 35 to go around to the side window instead?

I totally loved those books. I thought was probably Choose Your Own Aventure’s biggest fan. But I found out last week that my husband was so much more devoted than I could have possibly dreamed.

The first time Ben read one of those books, he was blown away that people would consider themselves finished with a book when so many pages were left unread. He couldn’t possibly put the book down until he had found out what was on every single page.

He tried reading it from cover to cover, but it didn’t make sense that way.

So he grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil and kept track of each decision he made. Then he went back and reread the book several more times, choosing different scenarios and keeping track of each decision, until he had finished the entire thing.

And he used this same method on all of the Choose Your Own Adventure books he ever read.

Can you believe I only found this out last week?

Caught Red Handed

Things at Which I Do Not Excel, Part I

Cutting My Own Hair

And still I continue to do it. Every time. And without fail, I regret my decision every time. About once a year I even give myself bangs, and then I spend the rest of the year growing them out and wishing I had never cut them.

Last year I told Ben that if I ever threatened to cut bangs again, he should talk me out of it fast. So this year I had to come up with a long list of reasons why I needed bangs before Ben believed that I wouldn’t regret my decision.

I told him that I needed to cover up the silly little hairs that were growing in after a bunch fell out when Liam was born. Why did that happen, anyway?

Next I told him that my face was too long and too narrow at the top, and that bangs would make it seem shorter and less egg-shaped.

Then I told him that I just didn’t have enough bangs last time, and that’s why they looked funny. They were too thin.

Eventually Ben said, “Look, I don’t care what you do to your hair. I’m just saying what you told me to say.” So I gave myself bangs and guess what? I’m already regretting it. Luckily I cut about half my head into bangs this time, so it will look like a sweet mullet ALL YEAR LONG while it’s growing out.

What's Your Excuse?

I went boating with a bunch of people from Church on Wednesday, and we got stuck in a big storm out in the middle of the lake. My phone and other personal belongings were in a big waterproof bag on the seat next to me.

As tons of water started gushing into the boat in giant waves, I realized I had two choices: leave everything in my bag and hope my phone wouldn’t get wrecked, or take everything out and use the bag to start bailing water so the boat wouldn’t sink.

It took me a while, but I finally realized that keeping the boat afloat was probably a teensy bit more important than my cheap cell phone.

The good news is that after 24 hours of drying out, my phone works again. And also, the boat didn’t sink.

The bad news is that I should have been using that phone to vote for Allison.

Excuse Me, Flo?

Remember in Dumb and Dumber when Lloyd stands at the bar putting out the vibe while Harry puts in a good word to Mary "Samsonite" Swanson for him?

Liam totally puts out the vibe. He struts his stuff when he’s sitting in his stroller. He rests his foot on the snack tray and looks around like, “Heyyyyyy, ladies.”

The other day we went for a walk in the park and Liam was checking out all the hot women in their workout clothes.

We passed one guy who said, “Good morning,” and I answered with a “hi.” I think Liam had forgotten that I was there, because as soon as he heard me talk he whipped his head around to see who had said “hi.” He looked up through the little canopy window and stared at me like he couldn’t believe that his mother, of all people, had followed him to the park, and that now she was actually talking to people.

Seriously, how embarrassing.

And Don't Forget the Rubber Gloves

We don’t have a dishwasher, so we wash our dishes the old school way—with a soapy scrubbing tool and a quick rinse. It takes a total of 5 seconds per dish and we really don’t mind it.

Last week my grandma and my brother came to visit. My grandma had her own way of doing dishes, which required plugging both sides of the sink, filling one side with clean water and one side with soapy water, soaking the dishes for 3.472 minutes and then scrubbing them with a dish cloth, then transferring the dishes over to the clean water side (which became soapy and needed refilling after every 3 dishes), and finally draining both sides and rinsing each dish one last time. It seemed like a lot of extra work, but I know better than to challenge Grandma on something like washing dishes, so I went along with it.

One day while she was here, Grandma walked in on me washing dishes my own way. She wanted to help, but she couldn’t figure out which stage of the process I was in. She started to plug one side of the sink, then moved to the other before I told her that I normally wash dishes this way and it only takes a second…see? She observed for a while and then walked away bewildered.

The next day Grandma walked in on my brother washing dishes, and he happened to be washing them the same easy way that I use—the normal way. Completely surprised that he knew about the easy method, Grandma asked him, “Did your sister teach you to wash dishes that way?”

Pretty Boy

When I was pregnant with Liam, I made the mistake of telling my co-worker, Joseph, that I hadn’t taken the tags off my baby clothes yet because I was still hoping he might come out a girl. Joseph was appalled at my completely inappropriate and horrible thoughts. He told me I was a man-hater and that my baby would grow up hating himself, along with the rest of the male population.

I’d like to dedicate yesterday’s dress-up session to Joseph.

And a Happy 4th to You Too

Check me out—I’m Martha Stewart.