Ketchup.

So yes, I'm back. At least for today. It's been about five weeks since I blogged last and my mind is about to explode with random thoughts for the unknown public to read. Here are a few for your perusal:

• I swear estrogen is dripping off the walls of this house. Buttercup cries at the drop of a hat as if she's menstruating, and both little princesses insist on changing their outfits (along with shoes, scarves, purses, jewelery, and other accessories) at least five times a day.
• Why do the good people of North Dakota continually drive five miles under the speed limit? I never would have called myself a Utah driver--but when a lady in a Taurus with two babies in the back goes whizzing by all the traffic on the freeway, there is no other explanation.
• I LOVE my husband. Bless his soul if I could do it all over again, I wouldn't change a thing. Not only does the man still give me flutters when he walks through the door everyday, he loves me and takes care of me like I'm THE queen. I'm so thrilled with this whole physical therapist thing because shoot, Charming is smokin' in a pair of dockers and a button-up collared shirt (with the sleeves rolled up all temptingly like he's really just a rustic mountain man underneath). Oh, and he made me a fabulous chocolate cake (his own recipe mind you) for mother's day. This man knows what love is.
• "Little House on the Prairie" (the tv series), has turned into a very unsatisfying soap opera for me as of late. I was bestowed with all 9 seasons for Christmas, and now what can I say? Will Laura and Almanzo ever stop bickering and just get to the romancing already? I mean I understand it's a family show and all, but good golly, if they can address issues like rape, murder, and death, I think we could deal with a little sweet-talking and a soulful kiss or two. (Yes, I know, I'm a loser. Moving on.)
• I have committed a domestic sin and bought (for a few weeks in a row now) ready-made meals for my family. It was yummy.
• I have gone from obsessing about household cleanliness--such as sweeping the floors three times a day and scrubbing toilets for fun--to beginning to comb through summer clothes put in storage for my girls, and dropping the whole project winding up with sundresses strewn all over the house by my precious little angels. Odd. Maybe I'm bipolar. I won't look into that though--I'll probably just end up taking another non-helpful expensive test/procedure.
• Better Homes and Gardens magazine is my new bible. I've actually begun tearing out pages of my favorite things and consequently had to make a "Home Decor" file in my cabinet.
• I actually spent more than half of my birthday money on "home decor". Crazy sauce. And does my house look any cuter? Not for me to judge...
• Buttercup has officially banned the word "cute". Apparently anything "cute" is a little girl thing and she is now in the "big girl" category. Why was I never informed that adolescence began at four years old? They should have trained us for this in all those prenatal classes I had to attend (you know, in between the "How to latch on" and "Go to your happy place when it hurts like the devil" chats).
• No really, I was serious. Please stop hitting on Livvy. (Plus is makes Jayni feel bad.)
• I went running the other day. I should have had a photo shoot for a special scrapbook page because I don't think that's ever going to happen again.
• Last night Charming helped me concoct an avocado hair mask (thank you BHG magazine!) at 10:30 at night. He then applied it to my entire head and actually seemed to be enjoying himself. I just wanted some chips for dipping with.
• I AM going to color my hair. If I keep chanting this maybe it will happen. Don't worry, I will still be a former blonde.
• It's been weeks since I've read an entire book. Something must be wrong. Or maybe I just need to get through Little House.
• How do you respond when your two-year-old is continually yelling at everyone around her "Don't SAY that!" I just end up saying "Don't SAY that!" right back at her and then we're going in circles. I hate being outwitted by a small child.
• Did I mention that Charming is growing his hair out just for me? This is how I know the guy loves me--it's a weird Edward fetish. Don't mock me, just feel privileged that I let you in on the strange inner workings of my mind.
• Today I was wishing I had learned to play the violin. Odd. I can't even play the piano competently.
• I am really looking forward to my Jane Austen tour of England when I'm.... well when I'm older and have money. Apparently that is important when you want to sleep in a castle in the British countryside.

Hopefully you'll be hearing from me again soon. That is all.

And I read on...

I love the feeling of cracking open a new book. I don't necessarily mean a shiny book, fresh from the store, one that hasn't ever been touched before (other than the shelfer's fingers). The kind of experience I am referring to is the opening of a book I have never before read, but I can feel the excitement shiver through my fingers as I begin reading the first lines.

The grand moment surfaces when what first began as curious glancing suddenly becomes voracious pouring as my eyes slide back and forth across the pages. I plunge myself headfirst into a world outside of my own, ready to think and feel and see the thoughts of a newly introduced character--ready to discover the story that lies at my waiting fingertips, itching to turn the pages.

I usually don't surface for hours. I come out of the world of fiction long enough for the necessities--most of them involving children--but mostly my head is in the story, and I have not deserted it for long. If a book of a few hundred pages or less takes more than two, maybe three, days to finish, it is definitely not a book worth reading because it has not made me desperate enough to want to know the ending. This is saying something.

If I could picture any perfect moment for my life--visualize what my heart truly desires from my existence--I would see myself in a pretty little room curled up on a large overstuffed chair (white and pale blue), looking lovely and blissful and serene, reading a book by an open window (probably shaded by a big tree with tweeting birds).

I believe this would be my heaven, my reason now for living my life the best way I know how. I do dishes and laundry and play with my children and make meals and keep up my house and love my life--all culminating in the breathless moment when I can fling myself into a chair and read. It is a luxury many in my place have denied themselves, saying it is too frivolous and time-consuming a pursuit. I agree. And yet I happily read on.....