Official Invitation.

Go west on route 50, take the first exit after you pass the Red Caboose Bar. Continue through the light past the Tattoo Parlor and follow the road around as the road curves past the High Life Lounge. Turn right at the Discount Liquor Store. The church is located at the third right after the Harley Davidson Shop.

If you reach the Butts & Ashes Tobacco Stand, you have gone too far. Church starts at 10am---hope to see you there!

We have a plan.

Heather is looking into different programs for college. She's gone from math to physics to---you get the idea. Most recently she has settled on a MD/PHD program (being a research physician). I think she is more captivated at the idea of being a Dr. Dr., then anything else.

Anyway, a while back we were looking through the BYU directory and discovered that there is already a McKibben enrolled at BYU. Since it isn't a common name we were surprised. And then we came up with a plan...

So, Heather could marry this Jared McKibben. She wouldn't have to learn how to spell another last name. Or they could always hyphenate their names and she would be Heather McKibben-McKibben.

Actually she would be Dr. Dr. McKibben McKibben or Dr. McKibben squared...

Of course she will have to meet this guy and see what he thinks about the whole idea. But I think it definitely has potential.

Wanted: Creepy Stalker

We've had a little fun at our house this past week learning about Internet safety. We just found out that apparently one of my daughters has a stalker. So we've been going through and making sure our information is not accessible anymore to just anyone.

My daughter sat down the other night and lamented, "Gee, I thought having a stalker would be more exciting... " Yes, I'm sorry no one was looking through her bedroom window with a telescope, sending pictures of her in the mail, or making phone calls in the middle of the night with lots of heavy breathing. It's a shame really.

"Don't worry," we reassured her. "Next time maybe you'll get a better stalker."

Where are we again?

I have smart kids. But there is something about geography...

Earlier this week my daughter came home from school and couldn't wait to tell me how awful her day was. Her teacher was making her memorize all the state capitols, and she wasn't very happy about it. "Do you even know what they all are?" she demanded. Sure, I mean at least I used to...

Not believing that I did, she decided to test me. "Provo," she announced. Seeing my blank look she continued. "Provo is the capitol of Idaho." Um, no. First of all, Provo isn't even a city in Idaho---it's in Utah---and Salt Lake City is the capitol of Utah. I guess my reasons weren't very convincing and my daughter went to look it up. "See," she called to me, "right here---the capitol of Idaho is...oh. I guess the capitol is Boise." I gave her a smug look, but didn't go as far as to say I told you so. "Close enough," she exclaimed grabbing her book.

Last night at dinner my husband was talking about Denver. "Delaware!" my daughter randomly yelled out. Delaware? Seeing everyone's confused expression she proudly explained. "Denver is the capitol of Delaware!"

"No, it's Denver, Colorado and it's Dover, Delaware," everyone clarified. "Same thing," she muttered, "they both start with D."

So did I mention my kids are geographically challenged? I actually find it very amusing. It means that they really don't know everything.

French cuisine.

Nick had an assignment to prepare a French dish and bring it to school today. He was gone all weekend so finally last night at 9pm Heather and I decided we should get started on it. My son had picked out the recipe and so we separated eggs, whipped, beat, and folded. Okay, we improvised.

Nick got home after we'd put it into the oven and asked, "so tell me again how we made these?" While going through our step by step process, the buzzer rang and the French Cheese Puffs were finished. Grabbing a cheese puff and giving it a taste, my son decided they were not very good. "Nothing personal," he added...

So it's 10pm and he's flipping through the cook book trying to find a different recipe. "Just tell everyone that they are supposed to taste bad, that the French LIKE their cheese puffs runny and smelling slightly of rubber," we begged. But he settled on a French cake recipe.

It looked easy enough. I finally sent him to bed at midnight and was up until 3am. The first cake never did cook all the way and there was the slight problem of having chunks of egg from where it didn't get mixed well enough. I think the second one won't kill anyone. But then again, I didn't have the nerve to exactly taste it.

I just want to say that I'm so grateful for the opportunity "we've" had to take this little adventure into French cuisine. It's made all the difference in my life. And the next time we get the chance, I'm going straight to the store to the nearest loaf of French bread.

Forever in my heart and never to be forgotten.

I've started going through my house and throwing out everything that hasn't been used recently, or is broken. It is a total rush to drop off a load of stuff at the Goodwill. Seriously. I can't seem to stop myself. I fall asleep at night thinking about what I can sort through and throw out the next day.

We have a lot of stuff. But it seems like whenever someone wants something, they can't find it. So we end up buying another one. I figure I might as well get rid of everything---thus eliminating the middle step of looking. I'll never have to bother looking for anything ever again!

I've gone through the kids' rooms and filled trash bags full of clothes, toys, and anything else I can find. I find it rather enjoyable to throw out their stuff.

My own stuff, however. Not so easy. I've included a picture of my absolute favorite sweatshirt. You can see that I wear it all the time. It is so comfortable. And the fact that it is falling apart only makes me love it even more.

In the spirit of fairness, I've decided to finally throw it away. I do have other sweatshirts. They are somewhere in my closet where I can't find them. So this is an official goodbye to the absolute best sweatshirt ever. YOU WILL BE MISSED. I will wait to throw it away though, because I think I'll wear it just one more time.

The obsession continues.

So there's this large construction truck parked in front of my driveway. They are building a new house two houses down, yet insist on parking in front of MY house. Last week, I let them know I have 3 teenage drivers and it would be in their best interest to park elsewhere, but it doesn't seem to bother them.

The bigger problem is that it's Tuesday and with the truck parked where it is, there is no way for the garbage men to come and pick up my trash. Yes, it is very disturbing.

Last week one of the kids came running in to tell me that the garbage men were here. I rolled my eyes and said that it's not like I sit around all day watching for them to come. Okay. So I do. Is there something wrong with that?

And then they only took half of my trash so I spent the next hour theorizing why they didn't take all of it. It was very disconcerting. It was proof that my trash really wasn't good enough. But eventually another truck came and took it all away.

So here I am. In a predicament. The garbage men should be here any minute. Hopefully it will all work out for the best.

If worse comes to worse, I can always pile my trash onto the construction truck. And hope they learn their lesson before next Tuesday.