Camryn's Crayon Cookies

Today Camryn asked me if she could make cookies. I had someone over and was getting tired of being interrupted every two minutes so I told her she could. She got out the "Great American Cookie" cookbook (the one full of pictures) and decided on "Crayon Cookies." Aside from asking me how many cubes of butter it took to make a cup and how to fill a pastry bag with chocolate, she did the entire process by herself-- Kitchenaid mixer and all. She added the ingredients, mixed the dough, divided it into 8 different bowls (so she could make it 8 different colors like the recipe said), rolled it out and shaped it like crayons, melted chocolate (to use to draw the "wrappers") and decorated them. At one point she asked me to do the chocolate decorating for her, but we quickly found that she was just as good or better at it than I was. 

Here is a picture of her fantastic work: (Blurry pictures courtesy of my cell-phone camera... the cord to charge my regular camera is still missing).

Camryn's Awesome Crayon Cookies

In the midst of all her fabulous initiative and creativity, she neglected to attend to the clean-up part of the project. Our kitchen looks like it was hit by a major hurricane. I guess on tomorrow's docket is "How to clean up from making cookies." Still, not too bad for an eight-year-old.

Personality Flaws

[Another unfinished blog draft found in my blogger draft folder.]

If you ever get in a conversation with people about personality flaws you know that there are some things that are universally acknowledged as being negative. Things like being violent, abusive or excessive knowledge of Star Trek trivia. And then there are those "personality flaws" that people admit to but in a "Yeah, I say it like it's a fault, I'm actually kind of proud of it," sort of way. The kind when people "admit" to it and you outwardly nod your head sympathetically but internally secretly think, "Sheesh, I wish THAT was the worst of my problems." Like when someone admits that they are "OCD," but in a "See, I'm OCD so I could never be as absent-minded or disorganized as you are or have my house as messy as yours. But I'm not judging-- I'm just OCD." We say it's bad but then wear it like a badge of honor.

I have one of those. Yes the dreaded P-word.... perfectionism. Yes, one of those annoying people who admits, "Yeah, I'm a perfectionist," so you can internally think, "Yeah, poor baby. I wish my problem was being too perfect." And honestly, I've worn it like a badge of honor for most of my life. C'mon, we say it's a fault but how harmful can it be to continuously strive to be better.

The World Revolves Around... the Potty

I haven't posted in a while. I'm recovering really well from my deviated septum surgery, despite a really scary drug interaction the Friday night after the surgery. For all of you who want to know but don't have the nerve to ask, no, I did not get a nose job along with my septoplasty. I have the same old pointy schnoz that I've always had. Darn. (Besides, if I was going to undergo the knife, I can think of some body parts that would get much higher priority than my nose. If I wasn't morally opposed to cosmetic surgery.) But I digress. My mom just left on Monday after being here for three weeks. She was able to help with the surgery, help me organize our junk room into a play room and generally make my life awesomer. It was fabulous. I'm having serious withdrawal now that I'm having to be a responsible adult again. :(

We (meaning my mom) started potty-training Jackson while she was here. He is plenty old enough at 3 1/2 , but I'm not nearly old enough. Or maybe I'm too old. At any rate, I don't do poop and this is killing me. He's got the pee-pee thing down pretty well, but this sitting-on-the-potty-for-an-hour-and-then-pooping-in-your-underwear thing is getting old. Really, really old. Maybe those in the 7th circle of hell are really just condemned to an eternity of perpetual potty-training. (Deep breath.) I can survive this. Really. I can.

Post-Surgery Update

Rockin' the hospital gown. Why hasn't this taken off as a fashion staple? I think the tent look suits me....

I'm back home after my surgery. (Which was actually septoplasty with a turbinate cautery, not a septoplasty with a turbinectomy as I had previously thought. In case you were wondering-- I thought you were). I woke up bright and early this morning to head to the hospital. Last night my mom told one of her friends about my upcoming septoplasty. Her friend warned her that she'd had that same surgery and the recovery was awful-- they pack your nose with gauze and your head feels awful for days on end. So on that happy note, I headed off this morning with some pretty low expectations for my day.

 

Hangin' with the ice pack post-surgery. It kind of looks like a polar bear mask with a red nose.

I got prepped for the surgery and they gave me some Versed to help me relax. Dave asked me if I felt anything and I told him I didn't and then (apparently...I don't remember anything) clonked out about 30 seconds later. I woke up what seemed like about 15 minutes later in the post-op recovery room with no memory of being in the operating room whatsoever. I asked the nurses about 5 times whether the operation was really over already. I was a bit woozy after the operation, but overall I really didn't feel half bad at all. It helped that they didn't pack my nose. (The doctor said they try to avoid it when they can because people-- and I quote-- hate it with a purple passion.) Instead, I have a moustache-style device to hold a gauze pad under my nose. It looks awkward, but I'll take it over having my nose packed full of gauze. 

Sportin' my moustache-style gauze-holder. I've never had a bandaid that I put on around my ears before....

So after a calm, relaxing day-- including a medically-induced nap-- I'm back at home watching movies and dinking on my computer. I may not be feeling so great when the local anesthetic they used on my nose wears off, but for now at least I'm liking my excuse to sit on the couch and be a bit lazy. Kind of like my experience having my wisdom teeth out, it's kinda nice every once in a while to have something that forces you to stop everything and take a break. Even if that break involved hospital food. (Honestly, it wasn't so very bad....)

Pickin' at my deluxe hospital meal. Actually the fruit plate was pretty awesome.

My First-Ever Turbinectomy!

Tomorrow is my first-ever surgery. I am having a septoplasty and turbinectomy-- which sounds like I'm having a septic tank fixed and a turban removed but actually means that I am having a deviated septum in my nose corrected and an enlarged lower turbinate reduced-- with the end result hopefully being that I will be able to breathe normally for the first time in years. I was supposed to have this surgery 11 years ago but I procrastinated it because I didn't want to take time off work and I was afraid of going under general anesthesia. So hooray for ending the procrastination and finally getting around to doing it. I haven't been able to breathe clearly through my nose for years, so I am excited to get this over with. I think.

It isn't a major surgery (although I've heard that the only minor surgery is one that happens to someone else) but I'm still a bit nervous. The general anesthesia thing still doesn't excite me-- although it is much more exciting than the alternative. I tend to underplay things in my mind so I'm sure tomorrow I will be hating life and feeling crappy, but hopefully in a week or two I will have be feeling more normal AND be able to breathe through my nose for a change. Here's hoping.  

The Father Son Campout

Last night Dave took Jared and Jackson camping at the beach for a church Father/Son Campout. I told Jared to pack a change of clothes into a bag and he did-- along with a package of hot dogs and a half-open bag of giant marshmallows. (I wish I had a picture of the stuff in his bag amid the pajamas and socks...)

Today they are playing on the beach before coming home. These photos are brought to you courtesy of emails from Dave's Blackberry. (Isn't technology amazing?) I love how Jared is dressed in his swimsuit on the gray, freezing Oregon beach. At least he's prepared for the best.... :)

 

You Know It's Been a Bad Day When...

You know it's been a bad day when, you drive down the street and stop when you realize your son's shoes are still on the hood of the car where you set them five minutes earlier....