Change of Address

After being with dear Blogger for a month-and-a-half now, I've decided to switch over to a different website with more options that Charming has helped me create.

Without further ado, my new blog is now located at: http://heidisblog.biglaughs.org/

(Sorry to make you change all your links and google readers and stuff).

This blog is officially closed. I hope to see you over at the new address often!

Thanks! Bye.

(Aw, I feel sad now. Goodbye Blogger. You've been good to me. See you later).

Thwarted

I had grand plans to neglect the laundry and do an outdoor fall photo shoot with Bubbers today. (I just loved Tearese's).

But given the sudden torrential rainfall, I decided against it. (Speaking of which, it's amazing how threats of a severe windstorm can motivate me to organize my food storage. Very quickly. And with great gusto).

So, I switched plans.

(This is when Charming prays that I decided to do the laundry).

I set up Heidi's Portrait Studio and took some more 6 mos. pictures of Bubbers. Yay!!

(Sorry, Love).

After I get all my sessions done, I'll post some of his pictures.

In the meantime... Here are some pictures from our official 6 mos. check-up (a euphemism for needles, Tylenol and banshee crying).

-----

"Hello, internet. Are you getting vaccinated, too?"





Check-ups are a family affair. Mom comforts the banshee baby.



And Dad comforts the Mom.

Be Still My Heart

What started out as two ceiling hooks and one piece of black fabric, has wonderfully multiplied to five ceiling hooks and five pieces of black fabric.

Oh yeah, baby.

Wall-to-wall. Ceiling-to-floor.

Heidi's Portrait Studio, here I come...

p.s. Huge thanks to dear friend Kathy. Not only did she jam up her surger sewing the fabric ends for me--she gave me a plate of fresh pumpkin cookies to boot. Wow. Now that's a real woman for you. When I grow up, I want to be like Kathy. (I'd never even heard of a surger before...)

Sock Football!

I'm not quite sure how to preface this video...

A few weeks ago, Charming figured out that Bubbers loves having a pair of socks thrown at him.

Yes, socks.

I have no idea where Charming comes up with these things, but I'm sure glad he does, because it makes for some really fun laughs!

-------------------

Keep an eye out for my two favorites:

1. Bubbers has figured out the fun of "anticipating" what's going to happen.

2. Bubbers makes himself cough.

-------------------

Also, if you haven't seen our scare video, yet, you should check it out--it's priceless!

A Scanning Celebration

A couple years ago, I confiscated all my Mom's photo albums and negatives so I could scan every single one.

Why?

1: I love the sense of control I feel to know I have digital copies of every single picture my parents took. (Is that weird or what?)

2: I'm going to use them in my latest DVD project. (That's the "normal" sounding reason I gave my Mom for stealing all her pictures).

So, last night I finished scanning my Mom's eighth gargantuan photo album. (293 pictures. A bit of a relief after 489 scans for album #7).

I've only got about three more albums to go. Woohoo!

As a celebration for my scanning success thus far, I'm posting some of my favorite pictures for your viewing pleasure...

Check out these strollers! (I'm in the one on the right).

I'd never seen this picture and I was fascinated to see how much baby paraphernalia has changed in 20 some-odd years. These things are basically metal bars with seats and wheels.

The word that came to my mind when I saw these: Ouch!

Check out this walker! (This is one of my older brothers).

Again--metal bars with a seat and wheels. Wow! I don't think I could have started Bubbers in this as early as I did in our walker now.

I liked this picture for a few reasons... The swing was cool (more metal bars with a seat).

But my favorite part is this neat feeling I have seeing my two older sisters next to me like that. They look so pretty and feminine to me. And very protective. I just like it.

I also like that it reminds me of Bubbers. I look about his age right now, so it makes me think of him. And whenever I think of him, I smile inside and the world is at peace.

This is me asleep on my brother's bed. I loved this because it totally made me think of Bubbers.

There's something magical about watching your baby sleep. Seeing me asleep with all those warm colors around me just feels good. Do you know what I mean?

(It also blows my mind to think I was ever a baby like Bubbers. And I wonder what Bubbers will be like when he's my age. And then I feel sad and happy at the same time).

This is my Mom's all-time favorite picture of me as a young tot. She loves how ginormous my eyes are.

This is me and my brother, Beaster. We've always been good buddies. And I love how we look here.

I'd never seen this picture, either, but I just fell in love with it.

It's all 8 of us kids as a Nativity scene. Is that just cool or what? (I'm the littlest angel).

This is one of my all-time favorites. It reminds me of one our Christmas traditions...

Every Christmas morning, we lined up oldest to youngest. Then one at a time we'd go into the living room and find our stocking full of gifts (while my Dad videotaped).

If my younger sister had been born and in this picture, then it would really be perfect. (I'm the little caboose at the end).

-----------------

Ah, that was nice. Thanks for taking a trip through time with me. :)

Snape, Snape, Severus Snape

I fed my son this morning at 3:00 a.m. Afterwards, I slid back into my wonderfully soft, warm bed.

I closed my eyes and sighed, waiting for luxurious sleep to be restored.

I waited. And waited.

You want to know what came to me instead of sleep? What suddenly began playing in my head and wouldn't stop?

This.

Snape, Snape, Severus Snape
Dumbledore!
Snape, Snape, Severus Snape
Dumbledore!

Over and over and over in my head.

It's all Charming's fault. No more watching or singing bizarre YouTube videos before bedtime.

If you want to feel old or depressed...

...read your own will.

I'm pretty anal about tying up loose ends. Like as soon as we bought our first home, I had Charming take out a life insurance policy to cover the home's cost while I was still in school.

And then after Bubbers was born, I wanted to get a will to say who'll get him if we die. So, we did. (Get a will, not die).

A few weeks ago, we sat in an office with a lawyer who used words I'd never heard and asked questions I'd never heard (mostly about assets and stuff).

I kept thinking, I don't care about all these money questions, all that matters to me is that Bubbers goes to the people we want.

Then I realized the money does help take care of Bubbers, too, so I tried to care more about it.

Now don't get me wrong. I'm not trying to be morbid or all gloom and doom. I'm just trying to take care of this wonderfully chubby and adorable son that God has given me.

You better believe I have every intention of being around for my 120th wedding anniversary. But just in case, I want to make sure that Bubbers will always be in a loving home with righteous parents and the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

So if that means I have to read and sign papers with the words "LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT OF HEIDI..." across the top, then I will. Even if it makes me suddenly and keenly aware of my mortality. And even if it makes me cry while changing my son's diaper and seeing his cute, chubby thighs.

At least it will help me sleep better at night. After all, it made a huge difference in Charming's life.

I'll bet his first adoptive mom felt at peace when she passed away, knowing that her dear boy was going to the two people on earth she wanted to have him.

This whole will thing has also got me thinking about Heavenly Father... When my husband and I sat down and had the discussion of, "Who would we want to raise our son?" it made me wonder if that happens in the pre-mortal life.

Now that I have my own child, I realize the importance of that decision.

"Who do you entrust with your most precious gift? With this little life you've created and loved?"

How sad Heavenly Father must be when sending His dear children to terrible homes.

And in contrast, how happy He must be when sending them to wonderful homes.

This makes me want to be a home that Heavenly Father enjoys sending His children to.

The Chicken Story, Part Three

Heaven smiled on me that day and sent a blessed angel to save me from imminent pain. An angel in the form of my Mother.

Just before my Father reached me, my Mother swooped in.

"I'm sorry, Honey," she said to my enraged Father, "But Heidi has to go get her shots for kindergarten right now."

Still frozen, I looked sideways at my Mother.

I knew we weren't really supposed to go until after dinner, but there was no way in Hades I was going to contradict my salvation. So I just kept my mouth shut.

"How about we settle this after we get back?" Mother sweetly suggested, reaching out and taking me by the shoulders.

My Father looked at her and then he looked at me. Finally, he nodded and turned back to the pile of dead chickens.

Practically going limp from relief in my Mother's arms, I went with her to the car and we immediately drove away.

-----------

"So what happened then?" our dinner guests always ask.

"I ended up spending the rest of the night in my room," I explain, "I considered myself quite lucky, considering what could have happened to me..."

This is when my husband always cuts in.

"Oh, but that's not the whole story," Charming smiles that devilish grin again, "Tell them whose chickens they were."

"Weren't they your chickens?" the dinner guests ask me.

"Well, some of them were... I found out later that most of them weren't even ours. We were taking care of them for a lady from church who was out of town," I grimace.

Clearly enjoying this, Charming continues, "And who had to tell the lady that you killed her chickens?"

I pause, and then finally sigh, "My brother."

"Her brother! Can you believe that? Heidi kills off this lady's whole flock of chickens, and her poor brother is the one who has to tell the lady," my husband exclaims, "Where's the justice in that?"

"I didn't know he did that until years later!" I try to defend myself, "He worked for the lady, so I guess my parents just had him tell her when she got back in town. He offered to have us replace her chickens, but she said they were her pets, and you couldn't replace pets."

By this time, Charming is howling with laughter and all I can do is shrug.

"Would you like some more chicken?" I offer our guests with an innocent smile.

-----------

In homage to those poor creatures who died at my hands over 20 years ago, I post this.

My rubber chicken.

(A poignant gift from my middle school speech teacher who couldn't stop laughing after he heard this story).

The Chicken Story, Part Two

All thought of the captured chickens flew completely out of my head...

...until my Father came home from work that evening.

-----------

"Don't forget the forks," my Mother said.

I took the forks from the counter and continued setting our large table for dinner.

"It looks like your Father's home," she said, watching his car pull up the driveway.

"Oh, good," I said, "I'm hungry!"

"Don't forget, we're going to go get the rest of your shots for kindergarten after dinner," she reminded me.

I frowned, "Okay."

Then I sat in my assigned chair and hungrily waited for everyone to come.

"I wonder what's taking your Father so long to come in..." my Mother mused outloud, looking out the window again.

"I don't know," I shrugged.

"Heiiidiii!!"

My head jerked up as the anger in my Father's voice immediately seized me.

He was still outside somewhere. The yell sounded like he was near the garage, maybe by the--

"Oh no!" I gasped outloud, fear gripping my heart, "THE CHICKENS!!"

-----------

"Come here," he said through clenched teeth.

Meekly, I walked closer to the chicken coop.

My Father was standing inside the coop, next to the garbage cans.

Afraid to look, I peered silently up at him with bowed head as he reached down and took the lid off the first can.

Two frightened chickens flew out and landed on the ground. I waited for others to follow, but they didn't.

My Father's eyes bore into mine for a long minute. Then he slowly bent down and began counting.

"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven..." he methodically counted each and every lifeless chicken as he pulled it out of the can and laid it on the ground.

I just stared.

"...eight, nine, ten..." he continued on, it seemed like forever.

When he finally reached the bottom of the can, he turned to the second can. Again, when he opened the lid only a few chickens flew out.

If possible, my little body stood even more still.

The counting began anew as my Father pulled more dead chickens out of this can.

Finally, he opened the last can and, thankfully, all the pigeons had survived.

Amidst the pile of dead chickens, my Father turned back to me in slow motion. Then he began to walk towards me.

Heaven help me, I prayed silently, I'm a murderer, and now I'm going to die.


To be continued...

The Chicken Story, Part One

Every time we have someone over for dinner, my husband inevitably turns to me with a devilish grin and knowing look in his eyes.

Oh, no, here it comes...

"Hey, Heidi," he'll say, "Why don't you tell them The Chicken Story?"

"The Chicken Story?" our guests repeat in bewilderment.

Then Charming laughs, folds his arms and settles back in his chair, waiting for the show to begin.

"You won't believe this," he always says, "It's hilarious."

Then I shake my head, take a deep breath and begin.

"Well, I grew up on a farm of sorts, and when I was five years old, I made up this game I used to play with our chickens..."

-------------

"Heidi!" my Mother called from the front porch, "Lunch will be ready in five minutes!"

"Okay!" I hastily called back, barely pausing from my game.

"Here, chicky, chicky, chicky," I said softly, tiptoeing across the chicken coop with my eyes glued to the corner of the coop, "I'm not going to hurt you."

When I got close enough, I shot out my little arm and grabbed the unsuspecting chicken. She immediately started flapping like crazy.

"Whoah! You're okay, you're okay!" I said, feathers and dirt flying into my face.

I quickly ran the flailing creature over to the three garbage cans on the other side of the coop.

I pulled the lid off the nearest can, stuffed the chicken inside and closed the lid before that chicken, or any of the others inside, could fly out.

"Ruff, ruff!" our cocker spaniel barked excitedly.

Tammy watched me from outside the coop and wagged her tail wildly.

I bent down and smiled at her through the chicken wire.

"Hey girl!" I said, putting out my hand for her to lick through the wire, "I'm doing good today, huh?"

More tail wagging.

"I only have two chickens left, can you believe that?!" I whispered confidentially, "I've never caught them all before, but today I'm going to!"

Then I turned back to the coop. I chased down the last remaining chickens and promptly stuffed them in the cans with the rest of their flock.

Dusting off my hands, I smiled down at Tammy.

"I did it!!" I exclaimed, "I caught every single chicken, plus all our pigeons!"

More tail wagging.

"See those two cans?" I pointed, "They're both filled to the top with chickens. And that third one has the pidgeons."

"Heidi!" my Mother called again from the porch, "Lunch is ready!"

"Coming, Mom!" I yelled as I turned and opened the door to the coop.

All thought of the captured chickens flew completely out of my head...


To be continued...

Hardy har har

This weekend was General Conference. That means the whole Mormon world got to listen to our Prophets, Apostles and leaders from Salt Lake City. (As always, it was awesome).

Charming, Bubbers and I watched on the internet. Bubbers did surprisingly well through 8 hours in the same room. (With only one mishap).

Today was also special because Bubbers rolled over for the first time ever! Did we actually see it? Well, no... But one minute he was on his stomach, reaching for the strap of my camera. And the next minute he was on his back!

Since we didn't see it, I'm willing to say it didn't happen (it doesn't count unless you see it, right?). But now we'll be more vigilant to catch the real first time, next time.

Oh, and here's some of Charming's humor...

"I'm Heidi watching General Conference."

"I'm the Little Man watching General Conference."

"I'm me watching General Conference."

--------
Breaking news on the snot front: Bubbers is oh so close to being over his first stuffy nose. Thank you to everyone for your kind well-wishing! Needless to say, none of us will miss "the boogerator".

My son's worst enemy

Sure, it looks innocent enough. But one suck from this baby turns my baby into a banshee.

Yes, Bubbers has his very first real stuffy nose. Up until yesterday, he's been the picture of manly health and vitality--just like his father.

Unfortunately, the cause of this stuffy nose is not so clear...

-----------------------
Scenario #1: Bob's Corn Maze

I thought it would be fun to go with Charming and the Boy Scouts to "Bob's Corn Maze".

This is us at the entrance to said maze:

Of course, this was before we got lost in the maze. And before the torrential rainfall.

-----------------------
Scenario #2: The Tooth

During the drive to aforementioned corn maze, I was giving Bubbers his daily soothing gum massage and lo and behold, what did I find? A tooth!

(Well, not a complete tooth, but the just-starting-to-poke-out protuberance of a tooth! My baby's growing up!)

-----------------------
Scenario #3: Allergies

The same day Bubbers got congested, so did Charming. This is interesting, because Charming never gets sick. In our house, if someone gets sick, it's me.

However, while Charming never gets sick, he does have allergies. Particularly when the seasons change, and fall has definitely hit the Northwest.

So, Charming thinks his allergies flared up, and since Bubbers exhibited the same symptoms as himself at the same exact time, Charming suspects allergies are the likely culprit.

(Can babies even have seasonal allergies??)

-----------------------

So, let's take a vote. What do you think?

What caused Bubbers' stuffy nose?
	Bob's Corn Maze
	The Tooth
	Allergies
pollcode.com free polls

-----------------------
p.s. Hey, experienced moms out there, I want to make sure I'm doing this right.

Is this how it goes?
Step 1: Squirt saline up each nostril
Step 2: Baby cries like crazed banshee under water
Step 3: Suck it all out
Step 4: Repeat every few hours

Proof of my stupidity

So, apparently, this is the wrong way to use a crock pot.

Now that I've had a day to think it over, I really think they should have made this thing with a non-meltable reinforced cord for crack pots like myself who try to kill themselves.

Hmm, since I'm an adult American citizen, I suppose the next logical step would be to sue someone...

I almost died today

Well, not "almost", but I could have. It was because of my own stupidity, too.

So, I was really excited to try a new crock pot recipe. Beef stew. Mmm.

I was so proud of myself. I remembered to thaw the meat last night. And this morning I remembered to actually make it.

I was cutting potatoes and singing "Old MacDonald" to Bubbers (boy, does he love that song), thinking to myself, This crock pot stuff is great. Now I can do whatever I want and dinner's all done!

Then during Bubbers' nap, I was relishing the latest installment of "Pioneer Woman's" romance story and I suddenly heard a loud "POP!" coming from somewhere in my house.

Confused, I walked down the hall toward the kitchen.

Was that the lid to the crock pot? I wondered. Sometimes the lid jiggles around when I have it on high, which was all I could figure for the source of that noise.

Then I rounded the corner and just stared.

What on earth??

The side of the crock pot was black, as well as the counter top next to it. Looking closer, I finally figured out what happened.

I am such an idiot. Whoever allowed me to run a kitchen of my own was beyond crazy.

---------------------

"Hello?" Charming answered.

"Hi," I muttered angrily.

He laughed, "What's wrong?"

"I'm stupid," I answered.

"What do you mean?"

"I ruined our crock pot and blew the fuse in our kitchen. How do I turn the power back on?"

(Laughing now) "What???"

"I turned on the crock pot with the cord caught in it. The cord melted and blew a fuse. All I heard was a loud "POP!" It's a good thing I'm lazy and stayed home all day, or else I would have burned down our house. And then we'd be on welfare. We couldn't even eat our food storage because it would have burned all up. So which breaker do I flip?"

(Actually, since the power turned off, it wouldn't have caught fire. But, as is evidenced by our broken crock pot, I wasn't doing my best thinking today...)

Charming talked me through the whole breaker thing, and just before he hung up, he said, "Check your email. I just sent you a link to a crock pot at Walmart. If you want, I can pick it up on my way home."

"Aw, you're great, thanks, Love!"

I checked it out-- a 6 quart crock pot! Sweet! That would be quite the upgrade from our tiny broken one...

Then I remembered how our camera broke (actually, I found out later it was just a bad battery), and then Charming bought me a new one.

Now our crock pot broke, and he wanted a new one.

Hmmm, I thought, looking around the house critically, What else should I break???