How to Turn A Sweet, Gentle Mother Into a A Shakespearean Curse Hurling Demon: Sleep Training

Have you ever wondered what a text conversation between Andrew and I looks like?  Well, here's one from last week:

 I can't do sleep training. I'm going to find whoever came up with it and punch them  

  brutally in the face. With a feather duster filled with pepper. Cayenne pepper. 

 2:35 PM  

Satan is the father of all lies, misery, and sleep training.

2:39 PM

Hahaha
2:40 PM

What is the purpose in abandoning your child to cry himself to sleep? 

Are we trying to teach him that no one hears him or cares?

2:41 PM

And leaving your child to sleep in a puddle of their own snot and tears seems cruel.

2:41 PM

 I bet flies and mosquitoes were in on the sleep training plotting committee. Few other creatures could be so vile and heartless.

2:43 PM

There is no joy or beauty any more. Only sadness, tears, self-loathing, and a lot of snot.

2:46 PM

I'm going to take one of those giant nerf guns with the big rotating rounds, and instead of darts, I'll use eclairs. Only instead of delicious eclairs, I'll make them of salt pastry cream flavored with anti-plague, and use playdough instead of profiterole. That way, when the hard-hearted stone creature who thought sleep training was a great invention gets hit with eclairs, he'll get excited and eat a bunch- and then he will be ingesting agony of the acutest sort, agony second only to sleep training. The agony of disappointed taste buds. 

2:51 PM

The church is true. That means that somehow Charlie knows that I don't hate him and the Evil One will get his just rewards. Rap, tofu, hangnails, overly scratched DVDs that won't play, and eternal spinach between the front teeth are just a few of those rewards. 

2:55 PM

 The Princeling is asleep now, but I'm too emotionally drained to shower. I'm going to go undo my morning workout by drowning my sorrows in the leftover brownies. And maybe some apples and peanut butter.

2:57 PM

Wow... Such vitriol... Those are some harsh curses. 
2:58 PM

If you and Hermione ever dueled, you would crush her. She wouldn't even know what hit her. She'd never stand a chance against you. 
3:02 PM

Such anger has been stirred in this mother's breast! Anger fueled by sorrow great, and woe unbounded. Anger seethed with lust of vengeance, vruel and swift. Anger shall bring this mother forth with haste, anger shall make her hunt brief in its rapidity, and anger shall make her heart deaf to the pleading of her prey. Anger shall deny her quarry of any refuge, anger shall defy her quarry's every attempt of respite, anger shall decry her quarry's infamy and disrepute. Anger shall be her release, and his captivity.

3:04 PM

And thus we see that hell hath no insanity in pursuit of vengeance like a mother of child scorned.

3:05 PM

 All done now.

3:06 PM

*Shakespearean-like applause*
3:07 PM

Charlie woke up again, so I ran in there, seized him to me, and now we're cuddling and eating. :)

3:20 PM

...can I quote you on any of this?
3:23 PM

 I like cuddles.

3:23 PM 

Not too soon to ask, I hope.
3:24 PM

Quote me? Like in a paper, or everyday conversation? Because if in a paper, we need to work out in-text citations.

3:25 PM

Sigh. 
3:27 PM

So... um... how is your day going? Anything interesting happening?

3:30 PM

Nope. Next to that Shakespearean tragedy, my day doesn't even merit a cheap paperback.
3:32 PM

Has the lad recovered from the traumatic episode? Have you?
3:35 PM

This day will go down in history as the day we all died on the inside. In other news, yes, we are doing a little better. How are you? :)

3:39 PM

Now for a bit of commentary:

Tashya: "I said what I said and I'll stand by it until death."

Andrew:  I would like to make a few points.  

First of all:

Voldemort is lucky that Tashya is not in HarryPotterLand (and as it turns out, Sauron and Middle-Earth too, respectively).  

Second:

I think I now more fully understand the language of the Old Testament.  It's very possible that Isaiah, Jeremiah, and others simply had children who would not sleep well.

Third:

 I think the little chap is doing even better than normal after the last couple of nights of this.  His mother, however, is at wit's end.

And now for a bit of art inspired by the above:

And one final note from Tashya:

Charlie really is a grand and wonderful baby.  None of this is a reflection on him, of course - just the evil souls who thought up the idea of putting a baby through something like this.

I would like to give thanks to people who were willing to lend me some great books, and share some personal experience with me. Rachelle, that book you recommended was pivotal in giving some insights. It makes a big difference if you understand what you baby might be trying to tell you about his sleep needs. So thanks.

Also, Charlie did really well when we tried this at bedtime rather than nap time. There was some crying, but not nearly as much as some other babies. The only good part about this whole thing (other than finding out that I have a penchant for horrendous hexes) was waking up the next morning and seeing the Princeling's happy smile and seeing that he still loved me. Relief and happiness! Charlie is the dream first baby, and always has been. I'm so glad he puts up so well with my parental blunderings. Together, the three of us make up a happy little family, and we feel so blessed. There is more to life than sadness, tears, self-loathing, and lots of snot. Life is actually quite wonderful.

The Maintenance Man: A Thriller

We live in an apartment complex. That means that sometimes management sends around people for maintenance checks, appearance upkeep checks, and the suchlike. On occasion they send out notices to say that the maintenance people will be coming into your apartment, and they give you a two-week period of when that will happen.

I don't always handle these situations very well. Especially after an experience I had when we first moved here, and a guy came over while Andrew was gone, and he was here for several hours, and I was uncomfortable and couldn't really get him to leave. I didn't open my blinds or make a noise (seriously, I didn't even play any music) for weeks after that because I was afraid that he or someone like that would come back. I was a bit like the Grinch when he was sliding about, slithering on the floor to get places.

And I don't know if you know this, but some pregnant women have incredibly active, horrid, graphic, and horrifying nightmares. Suffice it to say that with my already overactive imagination, I've had enough nightmares of a certain nature to be afraid of anyone being in my apartment ever.

A while ago, there was an apartment wide pretty-fication going on, and that included people coming over and switching out the window blinds. Now this was a very good thing seeing as one of my blinds had fallen off and broken, and I was using a scroungy looking towel in its place. Very attractive. But I'd lately had a string of nasty nightmares regarding ruffians of the worst sort breaking in and becoming violent.

Andrew was at work, and I was feeling jittery, so I called Mama up for our not-regularly-spaced-out-but-frequently-occurring chat. I was lounging on my bed, gabbing away with Mama, telling her about the dreams in all of their horrifying and disgusting detail, when I heard something faint and eerie. I stopped talking. It was the sound of a deadbolt sliding. Someone was trying to get into my home while I was telling Mama about my nightmares about people trying to get into my home! I have two deadbolts, one of which can only be operated from inside, so the intruder couldn't come in. But someone was trying to get into my house. And I was absolutely terrified.

"I think someone's trying to break in," I whispered to my mother. I peeked my head around the bedroom door frame, and the deadbolt actually was moved. It wasn't my imagination. I could hear someone pushing against the door to open it.

But of course, that quickly became this.

And I backed into my room, closed and locked the door, and looked around, trying to figure out what to do. I decided that if someone actually made it in, my best option was to run screaming through the bedroom window.

Never mind the fact that I live on the ground floor. That, along with most other facts, is irrelevant in my zoom out scenes of dramatic intensity.

My heart was beating so frantically that I almost couldn't hear my mother on the phone. I was seconds away from bursting through the window panes when I heard:

THUMP! THUMP! "MAINTENANCE!"

Maintenance? MAINTENANCE? I completely collapsed on the bed. Why hadn't they STARTED with that approach, instead of just trying to let themselves in?  Andrew:  Though, with the way that Tashya and her mother talk, and all the way in the back room, who KNOWS how long they were there knocking first! My heart started slowing from its pittering hysteria to beats so hard that they actually hurt my chest.

The knock and bellow came again. I didn't move. After nearly killing me with fright, they deserved to be inconvenienced by having to come back again later.

Mama spoke soothingly to me between spurts of spouts against that kind of behavior. And when Mama had to end the phone call, I just stayed on my bed, quivering under/in/around/on top of/through/tangled in my fuzzy pink blanket.

I didn't go out for lunch. I didn't get up for the afternoon. For hours, I hid, not willing to make sounds lest those people (who were portrayed in my imagination as the baddies from nightmares) come back and demand entrance to my home. Andrew had a real lump of joy to work with when he got home that evening. Good thing he's so wonderful.

But that was a few months ago. This time was different. I received a notice of entry for a routine maintenance check they do once a year. It was scheduled for one day, not a two week time period. I planned an outing to the library to avoid any scary encounters, find a book or two, and work on one of my writing projects (which, according to my sisters, is a very desirable read- I want to read it, too, and I'm mad that someone else hasn't written it so that I could just READ it already!). After a nice morning tidy, I was trying to decide between having a post-lunch nap, doing the dishes, and going to the library when I heard a voice outside my open window. He sounded older. I heard him say, "I've got to go now, honey. I have a lot of work to do. I love you." I thought he was adorable, and continued on trying to decide what to do.

It turns out that the adorable conversation maker was going to make my decision for me. There was a gentle knock on the door, which I opened to find a cheerfully smiling older man. He was standing there calmly, and politely asked if he could come in and do some maintenance.

I was so pleasantly surprised that I actually let him in. I did dishes while he did maintenance. He saw my open scriptures on the table, and gave me an approving smile. He asked if I went to church, and we talked about where we worshiped. I apologized for the baskets and boxes in his way- we're trying to make room for our baby. He gave hearty congratulations, and told me about his family.

So I, Natashya, did something brave today, and I didn't even almost die as a result. Rather, I met a kind maintenance man who loves his wife, and whose cheerful smile made me smile in return. I liked today much better than that time I didn't answer the door and was almost murdered in my bed by someone not even in my apartment. Which, you have to admit, would actually be pretty impressive.

The Girl and the Awful Morning

The girl sat in the waiting room. She was embarrassed. She was uncomfortable.She had woken up late that morning, and then been immediately distracted by the invasion of ants in her kitchen. Rather than showering and getting ready, she instead seized her vacuum cleaner and went after the ants. She sucked up ants, crumbs, and almost lost her favorite dishcloth in her zeal to dismiss those ants from her kitchen and the world.

When she had finally stepped into the shower, she then promptly forgot all sense of time. She took her own sweet time shaving- it would have been a massacre on her legs to go any faster, considering she hadn't shaved for several... whiles. By the time she was wrapped in her towel and looking at a clock, it was eight minutes past time to go. Oops. She threw on some clothes, hastily tied her long, soaking wet hair into a knot at the base of her neck, grabbed her keys, and fled the premises. Never mind makeup! Who had time for such frivolities?

After turning left onto the main road, she realized that she honestly didn't know where she was going. She'd only been to this doctor once before, and she couldn't remember the way to get there. She snatched her phone and attempted to phone her mother. No such luck.  She tried again.

"Please leave your message at the---" She shut the machine up with a savage jab at the end call button. She continued down the road in silence. She knew that she was supposed to be on this road for a good while. It was when she turned off the long road and faced all the turns in smaller roads that presented the looming danger. And she was already late. Brilliant! she thought, feeling suddenly clever. She called her father. As the phone rang, she wondered why she had even attempted to call her mother. Not only are mothers notorious for not picking up the phone, her mother in particular had a very poor sense of direction.

"Hello?" came her father's gruff voice. He never enjoyed the phone. He said it made his ears itch.

"Daddy! Hello!" Some silence. "How are you doing today?"

"Tired."

"Did you work until four in the morning again?" she asked. He did that sometimes while building the house.

"No. I slept," her daddy said with a short laugh.

"Well, that explains it," she replied. "You tried something new. That's never good for rest." They shared a laugh, and then some silence. "So, Daddy... I'm on my way to a doctor's appointment."

"Do you know where you're going, or do you need me to look up a map and give you directions?" he asked immediately.

"Funny that you should ask that, Daddy," she said with a laugh, "because I don't really know how to get where I'm going."

She told him where she was and could hear him typing and pulling up Google maps on his computer. "Found where you are," her daddy said. "Where are you going?"

Where...? If she hadn't been driving down the road at a goodly pace, she would have bonked her makeup-less face against the steering wheel. She settled on a strangled gargle instead. "Actually, Daddy, I have no idea where I'm going. I forgot the address. It's the doctor I go to when I pass Hairy Man Road. Does that help?"

She heard him laughing and rubbing his hand on his face. "You," he said, "are just like Mom."

Apparently more of her mother's directionless skills had been passed on than she had originally hoped. Her father, however, had a wonderfully accurate memory and sense of direction. He had given her directions to the doctor's office once before, and was able to get her there again. As she parked, she marveled that her father really was that good. He lived in another state, and he could still get her around better than she could. Of course, he'd always just been that good. Daddy really did know everything.

She jumped out of the car, and quick-marched to the building. She called her husband to let him know she had arrived safely, and scuttled into the now-closing elevator. The man already in there turned to ask which floor she wanted, but noticed she was on the phone and hesitated- especially since she was saying "I love you, too." The man pointed at the buttons. She realized she didn't know which floor she wanted. She hadn't paused to check the map in the lobby. She timidly held up three fingers, and the kind mind obligingly pressed the button for her. She felt doubly dumb: on the phone in the elevator, and she didn't even know which floor her doctor was on. Fortunately, the man exited a floor before she did. He wouldn't know if she exited and then immediately re-entered the elevator.

The elevator doors dinged open. She stuck out her head cautiously, and completely sideways, to see if it was the right floor. It was, and there were plenty of people there to see her sideways meerkat impersonation. Lovely. She scurried to the check-in line. She was very late. The line was very slow, and she was growing even more stressed. She really disliked being late. It was rude, and embarrassing. It was finally her turn at the window.

"I'd like to check in," she said and stated her name and her doctor. After the attendant scrolled and clicked for several moments, she added in an embarrassed tone, "I'm some twenty minutes late, I'm afraid."

"Oh, hon, I don't know if the doctor will be able to see you anymore. Let me call back and see."

Well, rats, she though. Now she was holding up the long waiting line by making the nurse attendant desk helper person call back to see if the doctor would be benevolent enough to see a very tardy patient. A very embarrassed tardy patient.

"The doctor will see you, but you'll be worked in around other appointments who make it on time. Take this paper and wait for your name to be called."

She took the paper with a meek thank you, and went to sit in the waiting room. She looked around. The other women were much better groomed than she. Sure, she had been late because of taking care grooming, but it had been her legs, not her face. And no once could even see her legs under her jeans and knee-high socks. She wished that she had taken time for such frivolities as makeup. She looked like she had no reason to be late.

But she was late. She was very embarrassed. She was very uncomfortable sitting in that waiting room. So she took her notebook and pen out of her purse, and began writing.

The girl sat in the waiting room. She was embarrassed. She was uncomfortable. She had woken up late that morning...

Tashya sighed and sank into her seat. What an awful morning.

Almost Murdered and Almost Murderer

*WRITTEN SATURDAY!*

Today was an interesting day in the life of Tashya. And by interesting, I definitely mean harrowing and life-threatening to the extreme! Or maybe there were two incidents that made today slightly less average than usual. But the manner of said incidents is what made them stand out. Both involved near death or maiming. Sorta. Or maybe you just had to be there. I'll see if I can recreate the scenes for you.

1. Almost Murdered

Have I ever told you that I love driving? If I did, I'm sorry. That was a lie. A downright dirty stinkin' lie. I'm generally a very honest person. I even announce when I'm about to cheat in a board game so that everyone knows in advance, so I doubt that I'd tell you as blatant a lie as me actually liking driving. I'm not a bad driver, I'm a safe driver. But loads of other people on the road tend to make nervous, especially if I'm the only one in the car.

Well, today I was out doing good in the world, and I was taught that Elphaba's song really is true: No good deed goes unpunished! I made some of my good brownies (and I mean, really good brownies. I really enjoy my brownies!) for a friend's Eagle Scout project thing, and took them over to his place to drop them off. I made it there alright, but on the way home, I really botched the job. I was trying to turn left onto a busy street from a side street, and it was kind of on a turn in the road. I waited a while, and then saw my chance. There was a small gap between loads of cars. I decided to take it!

I crept forward since no one was in the lanes going to the right, and prepared to gun it. The space came and opened before me exactly as planned! I gunned it exactly as planned! Only, I didn't. I missed the gas and hit the brake. Don't ask me how, I don't know. But by the time I got out into the lane and was going, the car was upon me, right on my bumper. And even though I was speeding up rather quickly, they did not slow down! I even went over the speed limit a little to try to get away from them, but that didn't work either! I was so glad to turn off that road into my apartment complex and leave the creepy tailer behind!

2. Almost Murderer

Andrew and I live in a gated apartment complex. We have little clicker remotes that open the three gates around the community. You don't need to click the button in order to get out, but if you don't click it, then you have to nose your car right up to the gate and then wait for it to open. It's faster if you use the clicker as you're approaching. Today my impatience with the gate almost maimed an innocent young woman.

Andrew, Teannka, and I were leaving to run some errands. Huzzah for the library! Hooray for mailing packages! Haloo for getting groceries! We got into the car, and started off towards the gate closest to us, which is around a sharp corner. I pulled my keys out in preparation for the clicking ceremony so I would be ready to speed our exodus from the apartment complex. When we turned the corner, we saw two people climbing over the fence to get out of the community. The guy had jumped down, but the girl was still crossing over the top. That fact registered about .5 seconds after I had clicked the button.

What had started as a button clicking ceremony to bring us out of the gate almost turned into a sacrificial ceremony offering up the girl's foot. Since her weight had been balanced on top of the gate, when it started to move, she fell forward. She didn't face plant because she caught herself on her hands, but her feet were still up in the air. It looked like an extremely showy push up that a guy could use to try to impress the ladies. Her foot got caught between the bars of the moving gate, and became lodged in the sliding gate as it continued to open. Fortunately, the good engineers who had designed the gate somehow incorporated magic into the machine so that it knew something was there, and it automatically closed again, releasing her foot.

Thank goodness that was over without anyone actually losing life and limb.

PS. I wrote this last Saturday. I'm not sure why it didn't go up. I am now busy with other posts, so I'm going to stop bothering with wondering if this post is quality or not, and just put it up. Have a nice day!

I'm Special! The Liebster Award!

I was nominated for the Liebster Award by Tayler from Our Fairy Tale. You may remember her better as Tanney, the friend I posted about and her dastardly day with devilish students. She also did a guest post in which I give a great yellow cake recipe. She's definitely not new around here, and I happen to like her a lot. And she nominated me!

How cool is that? Almost as cool as that suave and awesome cat up there? I feel pretty honored. It means "dear" in German apparently. This basically translates into the fact that someone likes my blog. Huzzah! To accept the nomination, I have to take certain steps. I answer questions my nominator posed, I give 11 random facts about myself, and then I ask 11 questions of the bloggers that I nominate. I'm supposed to nominate 5-11 new people. The rule is that the people nominated have to have less than 200 followers- I'm well below that mark, so I'm surprised I even got this. But hey. I'll take it! So to the questions!

Questions from Tanney/Tayler/Whatever People Call Her:

1) What made you start blogging?

It was to keep in touch with our families after we were married. I suppose I could have written an email and then spammed it to everyone in the family, but we have a lot of extended family, and that would have been bothersome. Besides, once I developed Pictorials, it became a source of venting and great fun.

2) What is your blogging dream?

TO CONQUER THE WORLD! Or just to give people a good laugh when they need it, or a spiritual and emotional boost when it's something they need, or to share my love of food and Andrew with other people who love food. But they can't love Andrew. Well, they can, but they can't have him. He's mine.

3) What is your dream job, and do you have it/are you working toward it?

My dream job is a wife, mother, and homemaker. What more noble cause is there than to take a structure of walls and floors and ceilings, and to make that elaborate box into a home? A home is a place of love, refuge, comfort, peace, laughter, and goodwill. What more noble cause is there than to bring precious spirits down to Earth and to raise them in truth, light, and love? I love Andrew, and I love being his wife. We'll get to the children part when it's right.

4) What are you a junkie of?

Reading. And reading. Sometimes I read. And reading. Have I mentioned reading? Oh, and my brownies. I make good brownies. And 60's music. And Jane Austen. And Andrew.

5) Since I'm a teacher, what was your favorite subject in school? Why?

English and History because you can come to better understand the world and its people by understanding the stories and legacies they have recorded in their books and cultures.

6) What is your favorite book? Why?

Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen. I first fell in love with it when I was nine, and I never really changed my mind. Elizabeth is a snobbish judgmental person, and Darcy is an introverted snot head. I love that they change for each other, even admitting their character flaws in the process. True love makes you better. (And I can't help but mention Les Miserables by Hugo, Ben Hur by Wallace, and The Alliance by Lund. They're great books, too!)

7) Name a country you want to visit from every continent.

Canada, Brazil, Italy, Russia, Somewhere-With-Penguins, and Australia (SIDNEY! AHHHHH! Finding Nemo, anyone?)

8) What are all the languages you speak (real or fake, fluent or not)

English, Franglish, some French, and I'm learning Brazilian (more commonly known as Portuguese).

9) What is the most annoying thing people do?

I dislike it greatly when people butcher up adverbs. I did WELL at doing GOOD today.

10) What are three interesting things in your house?

a. This large and beruffled pillow by my side. It's pink, and looks like a flower attacked it. I like it.

b. A dog statue made out of a slinky-spring thing and some metal scraps and spray painted blue. Daddy got it for me for a high school graduation gift. His name is Fred, and it's the only pet I'll ever want.

c. Two quias. Those are cup/mug things from Brazil. They look pretty snazzy.

11) What is your favorite post that you've done in the past year?

That would depend on my mood. If I want a laugh, my Pictorials make me chuckle. Megan and Tashya- Sisters in Embarrassment may be my favorite in the past year. But if I want to feel clever, I read installments from The Story. Seriously. Go read Man Voice and the Water Heater and tell me that it's not hilarious and I'm not a writing genius. If we're talking about meaningful, then either Get Your Head Out of the Tomb or How to Be Happy With Your Miserable Life.

11 Random Facts:

1. When I'm baking, I generally don't eat much of the finished product because I eat so much of the batter or dough along the way. 
2. I like to paint my fingernails every week, and update my toes at least once every three weeks.
3. I own three pink dresses. One is bright pink and has a huge bow on the front.
4. I yell out "-LY" when someone forgets to do it themselves. Use your adverbs, people!
5. I talk to myself when I'm writing to the point where I'll even have grand gesticulations going on. I don't write while in public.
6. When I'm reading, I often make faces that reflect the feelings of the characters in the book. If they're confused, I look confused, if they quirk a brow, then so do I.
7. I'm very proud of my eyes. I think that I have rather nice eyes, probably my best feature. In fact, I'm proud of my family's eyes. We all have great eyes.
8. I love to sing. I love pretty songs. I love to listen to beautiful music. I burst out into song frequently.
9. I don't like country or rap at all. I'll admit to a Taylor Swift song or two, but that's just about it.
10. I love my daddy's voice. He sometimes wishes he could sing bass, but I wouldn't trade his voice for anything. Some of my fondest memories growing up involve the family singing around the piano together, and sometimes just listening to Daddy sing.
11. Cigarette smoke makes me very ill. Very ill. And I'm very sensitive to it- I can smell it from across the parking lot when the wind is blowing the other way. Just ask Andrew.

Were those good random facts? I just wrote down some stuff. I tried not to repeat too much of what was already in the About Us tab up there. But now we're on to the last section!

My nominees!:

1. Suzzie from Suzzie Vehrs

2. Michele, Matt, and Offspring from Matt and Michele's Mundo

3. Kristen from Happiness is a Mood, Not a Destination

4. Danica from Our Fletcher Family

5. Tayler from Our Fairy Tale

11 Questions for the My Nominees:

1. What is your favorite color?

2. What is your favorite time of the year?

3. Do you have a Disney princess with whom you identify? Why?

4. What is your favorite genre of reading material?

5. What is your favorite thing to make (be it food, craft, drink, music, or whatnot)?

6. What do you think is your best feature?

7. What luxury item do you most want?

8. Why do you enjoy blogging?

9. Who is your hero, past or present?

10. What is your favorite thing to wear and why?

11. If you could be in any book, which would it be?

And so that's my participation in the Liebster Award nominations. As far as people that I've nominated, I really must confess to something. I don't really stalk all that many people on blogs. To be honest, I look at mine a lot. I realize that's really snobby sounding, but I like my style, and I like remembering what I did. I'm generally pretty picky about writing style, but sometimes I let that take a break if I think that there is good character behind the flaws, or if I like the person that's writing. So there's my nomination stuff. You'll notice that I didn't nominate myself. I am, however, about to go and draw some pictures.

Have a glorious day!

PS. Tanney, I had to nominate you. Your kinda sorta maybe all sorts of my blogger buddy. And you're better at blogging than I am. I had to return the favor. I love you!

Loserly Door Openers Need Not Apply

Being a stay at home wife means several things for me. One, I have a good bit of freedom in my schedule and my life. Two, because I lack both children and employment, I am available for daytime child care. I have done several jobs around the area. I love kids. Growing up second of ten, I am used to children hanging from the rafters, hollering and having a grand old time. I like to play and have fun with them. Babysitting is really something I enjoy. Mothers tend to trust me as well, seeing as I've had so much experience with children and such my whole life. In fact, I did babysitting and childcare things to pay for a lot of college. So my friend Leah thought that she was making a great decision by calling me. But did she?

Leah called me late Wednesday. A last minute meeting had come up in her schedule, and she needed someone to be able to watch her two kids between 1:30 and 3:30. I had no prior commitments, so I was free to accept. The front door was going to be left unlocked, since they would be leaving about five minutes before I was scheduled to arrive. I was to walk in, make myself at home, and prepare for June to get home at 1:45, and then Roy would get home around 2:45. Super easy, right?

Apparently not.

I got to the house alright and on time. I felt pretty good about myself. As I was getting out of the car, I developed a small case of paranoia. What if this wasn't the right house, and I just strolled right in? Talk about an awkward encounter. So I knocked lightly on the door. I waited. I knocked harder. I waited. I rang the bell. I waited. Nothing. I figured that this was the right house after all. I pushed on the handle, and pressed against the door. Nothing.

Having nothing in response to knocking was alright. Having nothing in response to opening the door was not alright. I tried again.

This did not exactly work either. I then realized that my frantic shoving against the door could make me look like a mad creeper forcing entrance into an unwilling house. Not the best appearance to be giving in a suburb with NEIGHBORHOOD WATCH signs everywhere.

Unfortunately for me, this sign describes my exact appearance and situation at that precise moment. This was not good. I immediately ceased and desisted all attempts to barge into the house, whether or not I had the owners' permission to do so. Instead, I decided to sit down and read my book on the front step. It was a GORGEOUS day, not too hot, not humid, and absolutely beautiful. I, as always, had my book with me.

As I was in the process of jutting out my tush to sit down, I was swarmed by a massive herd of bees, all of which were of one mind: DESTROY AND MANGLE THE TASHYA GIRL!

I hadn't done anything! I wasn't even pretending to be a little black rain cloud! I wasn't stealing honey! I just wanted to read! Sheesh. Pooh Bear has left a bad taste in the mouths of bees everywhere. Good thing Winnie the Pooh is so cute, or I'd be so mad at him right now.

So I just sat in the car with the door open. I was hoping that when June got home, she'd know a great way to get into the house without being a total creeper about it. She would be my ticket in! Only that didn't work, because, hey, she's like four and doesn't know how to break into houses.

My friend Shannon was the one that brought June home from school. She walked around the house with me, despite the fact that she had two children of her own in the van, and tried to help me get in. It didn't work out so well. So she invited us back to her house to play, since she lived just around the corner. And since I had no other options at that point, I took her up on that offer.

NOTE: Only the little blonde girl isn't named Alissa. She's named AlYssa. There's a difference. Alissa is a different girl from a different family that I babysit for. AlYssa is Shannon's little girl. She's cute.

We played around with bikes, hula hoops, scooters, and other little doodads until Roy got out of school. Little Alyssa does very well with the hula hoop. She definitely schooled me. She kept her body in tight and neat control. It should be noted that pathetic hip gyrations that rack the entire body do not maintain hoop levitation, but instead places it closer to the knees. Later, I was allowed to stop humiliating myself when we fetched Roy from the school. Then then debated what we should do at that point.

I was then informed by Shannon, who had called another lady, who had called the kids' dad, that the door was not in fact locked. The door was not locked? The door had a tendency to stick. You had to push really hard to open the door. I protested because I had SHOVED against the door! I was about to be ARRESTED from showing so hard against the door!

I packed up the kids and went with Shannon back over to The House With the Lousy Door. We went up to the door. I touched the door, TOUCHED it. And it swung open. Swung open at the same time as my mouth falling wide open. Seriously. That just left me feeling like a real fool. After that, I was only at their house with the kids for about 15 minutes before the job was over, and I was allowed to go home.

Later that night I got a call from Leah. She kept saying how sorry she was that they had forgotten to tell me about the Sticky Door. I just laughed it off and told her it was all good fun. She said that she was glad that I was having such a great sense of humor about it all instead of being mad.

I was glad she wasn't mad about hiring the village idiot to watch her kids. Honestly. Who can't open a door?

Mexican Rice (and Spanish Rice): A Tale of Exotic Dancing

This ridiculous picture refuses to center. I think this horrid thing is just being a  lousy  half of a pickle stuffed with peanut butter. It needs to get a life. The tasty recipe has a life. I have a life. Why can't the picture have a life?! CURSE YOU RAMSAR 2000!! That link will take you to the story that explains some of the enmity betwixt me and technology.

And after all that fuss, IT CENTERED! Technology. We. Are. Not. Friends.

ANYWAYS... We're moving on now.

Mexican Rice Recipe (With a Variation for Spanish Rice)

Go to this link to see the magnificent recipe and read a story of much strangeness and kitchen disasterness!

It's tasty stuff. Real tasty, I'm telling you! And so is Spanich Rice. And by "Spanich," I definitely mean Spanish. Because spinach isn't in this recipe. Sorry, spinach lovers. You'll have to look elsewhere for a recipe involving a Spanish variation of spinach. 

(NOTE: Andrew didn't laugh at that paragraph, even though he should have. I'm tired, and I can't type when I'm tired. I was too lazy to backspace, so I got clever (or dumb, as the case may be). Andrew must be so tired that he's momentarily lost his sense of humor. Did anyone else laugh at that? Besides me? ... Maybe we just both need to go to bed.)

I did this as a guest post for my friend Tanney's blog a while ago, but I realized that I never put the recipe up here in my Edibles stash. Silly me! It includes the two recipes, and also a Pictorial about the first time that I tried this recipe. It was fun. If nothing else, go check out the diagram I drew. It will make me feel special.

And just as a side note for people that I don't know, I'm putting up several recipes that feed two people comfortably, with a little left over. It's also good for people who are in college, and just want some food to take for lunch the next day as well as dinner that night. It also feeds one man.

PS. Feel free to poke around on Tanney's blog. Her real name is Tayler, and I love her to bits. Hi, Tanney! I hope you're having a good day in Utah!

I'm a 16 Year Old Russian Princess

The title of this post really does say it all. I'm not actually 22, I'm 16. And I was crowned Miss Russia this year. Oh, and one more thing. I'm really great friends with Jane from the Kiera Knightly version of Pride and Prejudice. Are you wondering how all of this started?

I have heard from more than one person that I look younger than I actually am. Usually I get pegged down a few years. However, it seems that the older that I get, the younger I get according to the people around me. And I'm pretty sure it's not because I'm getting more immature. There is one young man (to whom I've never actually spoken- I heard this from his mother) who said, "Every time I see her, I think she's 16!" Yup. I'm 16 and I'm married to a 28 year old dude. Man, I sure did find a serious cradle robber!

And now I'm constantly worried about flashing my ring all over the place, so no super awkward moments happen. My friend Kristina was out and about, and some guy came up and asked for her number. Kristina is married and has three kids. Yup. Talk about awkward. Super flattering, but awkward for all involved.

I'm not offended, and looking forward to the future, I think that I'll be flattered when I get older and I'm a 75 year old hag getting taken for a 50 year old hot mama. Yup. I'm sure that's how that will go. At least, it will if I go down the same road that my Mama leads. That right there is Mama and Buggy. Yes, that woman gave birth to all 10 of us children. And she looks fantastic.

(NOTE: For a good Pictorial read, go refresh yourselves by meeting Buggy as she and I almost die in smelliness and as she gave us directions to nowhere.)

(ANOTHER NOTE: Mama is neither 75, 50, nor anywhere in between. I just thought I'd point that out. She's a spry spring chicken.)

Not only was I recently informed of my true age and my return to the teens, I also discovered that some people think that the lady crowned as Miss Russia this year bears a striking resemblance to myself. I, of course, think that it's highly fitting that I be taken as a Russian princess. Isn't my name very suiting?

Miss Russia 2013

Miss Natashya 2011

What do you think? Close enough? My Aunt Becky said that I'm prettier, so I think that means that I should get the crown. I think it's only fair. Even if I don't live in Russia, or participate in the pageants. I've loved Russian crowns ever since I saw Anastasia when I was little, and formed a subsequent mild obsession over her story (and the beauty of her dress which ended up destroyed by Rasputin- what a shame). Dimitri is definitely one of the best looking animated characters out there. Not that he's anywhere near as handsome as Andrew. Andrew is the fairest, er, handsomest in the land! True story.

NOT a picture of Andrew. Or Dimitri, for that matter. This is Tess.

My friend Pook, more commonly referred to as Tess, also received information regarding her appearance recently. (I would like to take a brief moment to note that I have very few friends that I call by their actual names. No wonder I confuse people when I'm telling stories.) She was told that she looks a lot like Jane from Pride and Prejudice. That's pretty complimentary, considering that Jane is described as an "angel" and "classically beautiful." I'll settle for Lizzy's description of having "fine eyes" since I also get the Miss Russia crown. Also, Pook- you are pretty fantastic. I think you're a swell gal, and I'm glad that we're friends.

Can I just add one more note? I'm married to Spider-Man. Just take a look at this face.

Andrew has been informed more than once that this hero resembles his own person. Andrew is by far and away the most handsome superhero ever. But he's not just any kind of superhero. He's a Ninjaneer. He saves people from technology. He's cool like that.

And that's all I've got for now. I was just going through life this week when I kept getting all of these "HEY! You look like 'name of person, place, or thing' that I saw 'in/around/by/at or time'!!!" I think it's interesting that we sometimes determine who looks like who by who we know better, or by who we are talking to. Do I look like Miss Russia, or does she look like me? Or do we look like each other? Perspective, I suppose, makes all the difference.

Do I know any other famous people out there? Seriously. Who have you been told that you look like?

NOTE: Dear Pictorial Requester- I'm sorry that the Pictorial didn't come today, or yesterday. But I do promise you that it will come. I send my love and a small box of assorted cookies in your general direction.

Tuna Rice Casserole: Improv Can Get Tasty

Welcome to Tasty Tuesday! I have a recipe for you!

Tuna Rice Casserole (the original recipe. This isn't exactly what  happened in the picture, but both recipes are rather tasty.)

1 cup rice
1 can tuna
1/2 can cream of mushroom soup
1/2 can green beans (I just chuck in a random amount of beans from my bag in the freezer.)
1/2 cup milk

Cook rice; stir remaining ingredients into rice. Huzzah for one pot wonders! Serve with fresh fruit or salad. A rule that I learned from my Grandma Chelson via my Aunt Debbie is that you want different colors on your plate. Don't eat carrots with your macaroni and cheese, eat an apple! I like to follow that rule when I'm serving a meal. Not only are there various health reasons for doing so (like getting the different nutrients that you need), it also helps to make your plates look much prettier. Thanks Grandma and Debbie!

Seriously, the above is a good recipe. It's also pretty darn easy. If you wanted, you could substitute egg noodles for rice. I do when I'm too afraid to try cooking rice. I'll explain that whole story later. Maybe. So what happened during this most recent foray into rice and tuna? Improvisation.

This is a lesson in an important cooking area: What to do when you've started a recipe and subsequently discover that you are missing a main ingredient?

I was making this, and I found out that I was out of cream of mushroom soup. I wasn't panicked. I just looked for cream of chicken, which has a different flavor, but would do well in a pinch. (Pinch meaning that dinner was already a little late, and even if Andrew wasn't getting cranky for his dinner, I sure as all get out was. I don't do well when it comes to hunger.) But what happens when you have no cream of anything soup?

First off, you could probably determine if you have any friendly neighbors who wouldn't mind helping you you in exchange for a few eggs or cups of sugar at a later date. If you live next door to the cooking/baking equivalent of Scrooge, and this isn't actually an option, feel free to get creative.

I used some garlic chicken alfredo pasta sauce that I had on hand. Since it was already thinner than a cream of mushroom soup, I only added a splash of milk to the mix. Adding some cheese to melt in with the concoction is also a tasty idea. You could also make your own creamy sauce using flour, butter, milk, and spices that suit your fancy. (Do you know how to make a white sauce from scratch? I'll give more on that if needed. It's really quite easy.) In this recipe, you mostly want a cream substance that will hold your casserole together and give it flavor.

Comment from Andrew:  I'm here at the request of Tashya to defend her improvisations in the kitchen.  I don't need her to tell me to tell you she's a good cook.  Sometimes things get interesting (only once or twice have things gotten really interesting) - but things always come out tasty.  In fact, some of her best recipes started out as alterations on another recipe (and sometimes involved a fair bit of panic until they came out super well).  Don't panic when something goes wrong.  Nine times out of ten, you can fix it up and no one will know the better.  Unless you yell or cry about how everything is ruined.

So there you go. A few tips for kitchen improvisation, which is something that I actually enjoy doing, and a lovely little recipe to try for dinner. Stay hungry, my friends. 

While the Andrew's Away, the Tashya Will...

Early Wednesday morning, Andrew left for a business trip. He went away to good old BYU to teach some class and show demos on highly technical stuff. He got to be in a giant bus that had loads of engineering toys and tools, and show off the possibilities of LabVIEW programming to some 100 odd students. (Meaning around 100 students, not that each of those students was in fact odd. Although, being engineers, there is a strong possibility that more than one of them were odd. You know what they say about dating and the engineering building- The odds are good, but the goods are odd.) I'll have him tell about his fun trip when he gets back home.

So Andrew has been gone for two whole days now. He gets back late tonight. Are you wondering what I did while Andrew was out and about?

I went on the wild side. Insane. Off the deep end.

I ran a red light and sped past a police officer. It was my first time ever breaking any traffic law. Ever. Except for that one time when I was late picking up my baby sister from kindergarten, and I found myself going 40 in a 25 zone. Whoops. But I stopped as soon as I noticed. Fortunately, no one stopped me here either. The intersection was further away than I thought it was, so when I figured that it was unsafe to slam on my brakes, I was actually making a decision for the other cars that it would be unsafe to un-slam their brakes. When I finally got into the parking lot and stopped, I heard a siren go off. I freaked out. Turns out no one was coming for me, though, so I went inside the store.

I went shopping at Kohl's. For three hours. Shopping. Alone. I don't do that. I go with Mama. It's our "together time" when we're visiting. But you should the darling dress I got. You'll never guess what color it is. Go ahead a try. *indistinct mumbling* What's that? Nope. You're wrong. It's pink. And it has a bow.

I cruised right on through a yellow light. No coppers or bobbies this time, though.

I stayed up until midnight, despite the fact that I'm fighting a cold/possibly strep throat. And since I did it again last night, I now have a cold/strep throat/some evil, pernicious, demanding ghoul of a toad living in my throat trying to KILL me.

I watched yet another Cinderella movie.

I called my mother Mum all day. My mother is Mama. Mum? That's when I'm in my British rut. When I read too many modern British things, she's Mum. When it's from the Classics, she's Mamma. And what happens to Daddy? He stays Daddy all the time.

I definitely didn't shave. I did, however, spend a lot of time grooming my eyebrows. I also tried to keep up with other basic, socially required grooming habits, such as cleansing one's teeth and applying deodorant to the underarm area.
I went out and got my hair cut. My bangs are back, baby! I remember now how much I love bangs. I also remember how much I don't like bangs. What the heck was I always doing with these when I had them?

I also experienced a case of separation anxiety once some of my hair was gone. Why, I don't know. I mean, probably no one will be able to tell the difference besides me. I don't do short hair.

I got lost in a suburb trying to get back from my haircut. 22 right turns interspersed with a handful of left turns, does not make the necessary left turn onto the necessary road that will lead to your necessary destination. Nope. It doesn't. But I blame the kids on bikes that were preventing me from getting where I needed.

I ate half a bag of Starburst jellybeans by consistently saying, "I'll just have one more. Just one more." So much for having any left for Easter.

I read too much. Because that's such a new problem for me that only happens when Andrew is away. I never read.

I disregarded my schedule and my to-do list completely and entirely.

I put my hair up into a horridly unattractive version of Princess Leia's 'do. Apparently sleeping in this suave coiffure helps to make your curls more defined and beautiful the next day. The only downside is that you look like a maniac dork in the process. At least you do by the time you get in enough clips to keep up all of your ridiculously copious amounts of hair in that twisted formation and stuck to your head. Doing that around the most important man in my life? Maybe I'll let him decide if he wants to see it in real life after he reads this post.

I Skyped with Andrew for the first time since our engagement. Since I had already put on my attractive hairstyle, I was forced to wear a jacket over my hair so that Andrew couldn't see. I didn't want Andrew to be so overcome with my beauty and grace over the webcam that he ended up missing me uncontrollably and became miserable because he was so far away from me. Yup. I definitely covered up my hair for his benefit. Fortunately, Skyping helps hide your acne. Unfortunately, it also helps hide how wonderfully groomed your eyebrows are.

I watched horrible YouTube videos like Top 20 Saddest Disney Moments. Because that's a great idea when you're alone, feel sick, and are already feeling borderline emotional due to serious sleep deprivation.

I'm missing Andrew like mad, and apparently it's making me mad. Insane. Do you know what Andrew did? Instead of sleeping an extra night there and catching a morning flight, Andrew got a flight back right after his demo job ended so that I won't be home alone an extra night. Isn't that wonderfully sweet of him? Isn't that so considerate of him to help alleviate the bizarreness that accompanies a sleep deprived, Andrew-missing, very sweet-craving Tashya? I think it is.

And you know what? Rebellious Tashya is about to go back to wherever she came from because Andrew is going to be home tonight. TONIGHT. Thank goodness. I don't know if the good city of Cedar Park can handle any more of Rebel Tash. I don't know if I can. I just want the Evil Throat Dwelling Toad to go away! And since Andrew is my knight in shining armor who carried me off into the sunset, maybe he can do me a favor and joust with this toad. I'll even give him a token to wear during the tournament. Maybe one of my fanged hot dog buns.

I just hope that with Andrew shall come all of the good in the world that was taken away when he left. And by "all of the good," I mean "all of the book control and reason to actually make a meal as opposed to yet another bagel and/or craisins." Because I'm a mess right now, despite my basic socially required grooming habits. However, there really is still good in the world, even when my beloved is so far away. My friend Joy brought me a loaf of Asiago Cheese Bread from Great Harvest, some Kraft singles, and some good old tomato soup. I'm on the road to recovery already!

Maybe that means that I'll be attractive by the time that Andrew gets home. Maybe I should just do the Princess Leia 'do again. That'll be sure to distract him from anything else.

Yup. That's what I'll do.

NOTE: Thank you for the beautiful and encouraging comments on the last blog post about being a happy miserable woman. We appreciate all of the support. You are wonderful.

ANOTHER NOTE: The pictorial quality will increase once I have found my beloved little rose pink mouse. it's still missing! For now, you will just have to glory in my finely crafted sentences. So there.