Not it

When Maren was a baby, I used any excuse in the book to put her picture on my blog. I realized the other day that her cute little face has been mighty scarce 'round these parts of late, so here she is. And yeah, that's a Halloween outfit. I know it's still summer-- wanna make something of it?

Tough talk from me, right? I'm not the only one talking tough these days. The main difference between my first child and my fourth child at twenty months is that my first child (who was still an only child at that point) believed the whole world revolved around him. His parents catered to his every whim, lying down with him at bedtime, never eating out at restaurants where he couldn't get his food immediately, reading him dozens of books each day. The fourth child, on the other hand, knows what it's like to be part of a crowd. More importantly, she knows how to shirk blame. Last night at dinner, Eddie was asking the kids about their day. "Who got 100 on their spelling test?" Annie raised her hand and said, "me!" Maren raised her hand and proudly shouted, "Not me! Not me!" It's her new catch phrase.

"Who made this mess?"
"Not me!"
"Who took off this poopy diaper?"
"Not me!"

She's been deflecting attention from herself so well that I guess I forgot to put up pictures of her. Another peril of being a fourth child, I guess...

Book #63: Breaking Dawn

Title: Breaking Dawn
Author: Stephenie Meyer

Edward and Bella finally get married (spoiler alert), procreate, and live immortally ever after. Jacob imprints. The end.

That's the short version. Meyer's is the long version. The at-least-200-pages-too-long version. Argh. I really like the woman's stories, but she is so in need of a good editor it's not even funny. When JK Rowling wrote a 700 page book, I felt like it was because she was exploring the minutae of the wizarding world, not because her prose needed tightening. I didn't notice it as much in the first two books in the series, but in both The Host and Breaking Dawn, the lack of tightness really made it hard for me to get lost in the plots. And the plot this time? Meh. I mean, I was rooting for Bella and Edward to get married and for Jacob to imprint, so I felt rewarded in that regard. But the ending? Lame. The speeded-up pregnancy? Oh-so-weird. The name Reneesme. Gag me. Still, it was fun. And I finished it. But I'm not quite as excited about picking up the book on Edward's perspective. For one thing, I know it's coming right on the heels of her other two books, so I doubt her editor has had much time for chopping.

I know I'm forgetting a book (maybe two)

Something I read after The Last Lecture but before Stiff. But for the life of me I cannot remember what it was. Oh well.

Book #62: The Miracle at Speedy Motors

Title: The Miracle at Speedy Motors
Author: Alexander McCall Smith

Yet another installment in the No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency. This time Mma Ramotswe and her cast of characters destroy a heart-shaped bed, and reunite a long-separated brother and sister.

I always pick up these books at the library, and then put off reading them, because I think I'm not going to like them. And while it's true that seem almost too innocent, too hopeful, I usually decide, like I did with The Miracle at Speedy Motors, that occasionally, reading about Mma Ramotswe's Botswana is just what I need. I always laugh that these books are classified as mysteries, because the greatest mystery in this book is whether or not a woman's long-deceased mother is really her mother. Instead, the book is mostly about family, friendship, rootedness to place, and living with purpose.

Book #61: Spook

Title: Spook: Science Tackles the Afterlife
Author: Mary Roach

Mary Roach wears her scientist's hat and looks into various avenues to prove the existence of an afterlife.

After reading Bonk and Stiff, I probably should have waited a few weeks before jumping into Spook. But I was so turned on (literally?) after her other books, that I couldn't wait. Spook was a bit of a disappointment. Although written with the same wit and following approximately the same format as her other works (each book has about 300 pages and tackles in 10 or so chapters various loosely-related experiences which tie into her main theme), it lacked the "ew gross"ness of Stiff or the bawdy humor of Bonk. But she does look at a great variety of experiences, from reincarnation stories in India, to Oujia boards, to how electromagnetic fields can make people think they're seeing ghosts, to scientific studies proving near-death experiences. It's a good read, just not as good as her others.

Book #60: Bonk

Title: Bonk: The Curious Coupling of Science and Sex
Author: Mary Roach

Mary Roach's newest book, in which she tackles the science of sex.

If I thought Mary Roach talking about cadavers was funny, I should have known that she'd outdo herself in Bonk. How could you not love an author who, in the name of scientific research, enlists her husband in participating in a sex study-- and then writes about the experience? I laughed so hard that Eddie decided that he had to read it, then he read all of the funny passages back to me. I'll say this-- if you're fainthearted about sex, this might not be the book for you. Or rather, maybe you should read it and have your eyes opened. I know that I, for one, will never look at my electric toothbrush quite the same way again.

Book #59: Stiff

Title: Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers
Author: Mary Roach

Can writing about dead people be funny? If you're Mary Roach, apparently it can. She discusses anatomy-class cadavers, crash test cadavers, cadavers in mortuaries, cadavers in the wild-- she runs the whole gamut of the recently departed.

I'd heard about Stiff from lots of people over the last few years, but never got around to reading it. I'm so glad I finally broke down and delved in. It was such a funny read. I would sit up in my bed at night, giggling. But at the same time I was learning all sorts of interesting and random facts about what happens to our bodies after we die. Before reading Stiff, I hadn't given much thought about what would happen to me after I cease to be me. I figured that my kids would put me in a box and bury me, or possibly incinerate me. But now that I know that I could decompose in a forest, get strapped into a vehicle and crash at high speeds, get cut apart by eager medical students, or even get turned into freeze-dried fertilizer, I feel like I have so many choices. I think I'll go with fertilizer.

Throwing in the diaper...

About eight months ago, Maren got a diaper rash from hades. I couldn't get it to go away and six months ago turned to cloth diapers as what I thought would be a very temporary last resort. Surprisingly, they weren't so bad. I got used to scraping poop into the toilet and tossing in an extra load of laundry before bed. I realized that I loved the smell of the lavender I was using in the drying cycle, and also liked the feeling that I was doing my part for the planet.

The honeymoon lasted about four months. Then we went on vacation and used disposables the whole time. Around the same time, Maren started going through a naked phase, and the velcro tabs on the diapers were irresistibly easy to open. But I persisted. I liked the idea of cloth diapers too much to give up on them.

Maren, however, had other ideas. Over the last two weeks, every time I put a cloth diaper on Maren, it's either fallen off immediately (the velcro isn't holding so well any more) or she'd come to me within five minutes, holding a disposable and saying "new diaper, Mama." I've found too many wet spots on the carpet to count. So I'm listening to the kid and going back to disposables.

The good news is that she's also started informing me that she needs to poop before she actually goes. She has yet to go in the potty yet, but I have high hopes that I might be able to say "bye bye" to diapers for the first time in more than 8 years. Probably not, but a girl can dream, can't she?

90 seconds...

My "regular" pace on the treadmill: 7:14min/mi
My "regular" pace running outside: 7:30min/mi
My pace when pushing 90lbs of kids and jogging stroller: 9:00min/mi (and lots of huffing and puffing)

I took Isaac and Maren out for a run this morning. I had 55 minutes, and figured that I could get in at least 7 miles, maybe 8 if I really pushed it. Uh-uh. Six miles. Yeah, I had to stop a few times to pick up things they dropped and take a drink, but mostly I was just a lot slower. It's been a long time since I've run regularly with the jogger and it totally shows! Now I know what I need to work on...

Do I have to wear the shirt?

Many years ago, I said there were three callings I never wanted to have.

The next year I was called as a stake missionary. The thing I hated most was that stupid name tag.

I got released as the Visiting Teaching coordinator about six months ago.

And I just got called to a new one, that involves this:

Go ahead, mock me. I'm mocking me too.