Once upon a time I tried to remember how to make homemade spaghetti sauce and I got the spices right, but not the consistency. We won't go into its puddle-like characteristics, it's too depressing...anyway, Dustin helpfully suggested adding corn starch but I said something along the lines of "Do you want nasty lumps in your sauce?" First of all, he joyfully yelled "LUMPS!" Then he got this confused look on his face as he realized what kind of lumps they would be.

"Gross ones," I pointed out.

He frowned in concentration. "Like the consistency of those, what are they called, Neco wafer candies? Oh, wait, I meant to say those Neco things."

We laughed so hard we cried. Not only at the fact that he thought the more correct name was "Neco things" AND the image of Neco wafers floating in spaghetti sauce, but also Dustin's obvious excitement (he LOVES them) and I told him that if he made me laugh any harder I would have swallowed my uvula.

"Honey!" Dustin gave me a horrified look. "You're not supposed to HAVE one of those up there! This is really serious. You'd better go on a TV show and be examined."

He wants to point out he was joking, and I want to point out that I honestly couldn't tell.

Daaaaaa Baby

Hey, so this one time we had a kid.

Henry Giovanni Cenatiempo was born Tuesday, January 13th at 8:35 pm. He weighed 8 lbs. 3 oz. and was 20.5 inches long...I don't know his head circumference but it was something like "way too big to fit through my wazoo" inches. Yep, they cut an episiotomy. But just a teensy one. The labor was actually only about 5 hours and super easy, especially after I got that kick-butt epidural, no pun intended. I highly recommend those. "Epidural" is not really an accurate name for them, I would have named it "the magical joy tube." We got induced, but I couldn't even feel most of the contractions no matter how much they turned up the Pitocin, which was fantastic because it meant that most of the labor was actually spent watching the Simpsons and Oprah and drinkin juice. Recovering from my stitches afterwards was slightly less great--but thanks to the almighty power of Percocet, not impossible either. And guess what! The baby looks more like Dustin than me, which makes him really cute, and i guess my point is that given the incredible cuteness and the easy birth, I'm ready to do this again anytime! (Read: in a couple more years)

Everybody go reproduce!

Winter strikes again...

So, with the recent frigid temperatures in Provo, I found out that my car door does not shut when it gets cold enough. It doesn't matter if I slam it or just push on it. It just doesn't latch. This means I have to hold the door when I'm driving, especially while turning right. It also means that sometimes when my car is parked anyone that walks by can simply open the door. Then they have access to a bunch of cool stuff, like an iPod radio transmitter and a baby car seat base. Yet another reason to hate cold weather!

Shower Thoughts

The shower is a good place to do a lot of pondering. But since pondering takes too much thought, the best I can do is read the backs of bottles. The other day I read the label of a bottle of shampoo/conditioner/body wash/shower gel/bubble bath. It said that they did not test this product on animals. Really? That's too bad. The way I see it, there are only two options if you don't test these things on animals:

1. The product is not tested. This, obviously, means that the product is low quality or could cause harm to you when it gets in your eyes. Not a good thing.

2. The product is tested on humans. And this is better than testing on animals? Call me crazy, but if you have to test a product to see its effects, I would say it is more moral to test on animals than it is to test on humans.

There is probably a lot more involved in this issue, but it seems to me that something isn't right.

What The?

Uno is apparently an overwhelmingly exciting game for Dustin. Couple minutes ago we're playing Uno and eating raisins; I drop one on the floor and Dustin picks it up saying, "You have to eat this! This could feed a Somalian weasel for a whole year...I'm trying to help you out...I'm trying to take you under my wing."

Feed a what? Okay...

"Honey, there are weasels everywhere. But the ones in Somalia are ESPECIALLY starving."

I don't really know what to say to this, but I am not going to eat that raisin.

Lame

So being as how I am super lame and have a head full of cotton balls right now
(they call it "mommy brain"...does it last?) I can't think of a durned thing to post and I feel obligated to post SOMEthing because I have this chronic sense of obligation (read: I'm avoiding the dishes and I really want Nutella so something must be done and this is as good a thing as any to do.) It's the holidays and I know a lot of people will be watching "It's a Wonderful Life" and getting this general feeling that life is wonderful. My parents are particularly fond of eating cold shrimp and watching this movie. They are practically inseparable activities. So before you begin your shrimp-and-financial-expectations-massacre, dear parents, Jack Handy has a public service announcement for you:

“It's true that every time you hear a bell, an angel gets its wings. But what they don't tell you is that every time you hear a mouse trap snap, an angel gets set on fire.”


Actually, shrimp sounds really good right now, but the problem is that so does Nutella.

Comparisons

So first of all sorry Diane, I know, I know you tagged me, I'm still trying to think of six unique things about myself. Much better at spotting them in other people.

Like, for example, today we discover that Dustin makes very unique comparisons.

I've been noticing lately that people, especially girls, find it hard to take their eyes off my abdomen (I remember having a similar fascination with pregnant tummies before I had to look at my own in the mirror every day.) I was telling Dustin that it reminded me of women with large cleavage who are always having to say "My eyes are up here!" Sometimes I giggle on the inside because I talk to someone who can't stop staring at my tummy and I seriously consider going "My eyes are up here," just to see what happens.

But it's not like I'm mad or anything like that, I really don't care. I just think it's funny. So in order to point out that I'm not miffed about this, I told him, "I think it's because all girls have this knowledge in the back of their mind that someday if they have kids, they'll have to be the ones getting pregnant and giving birth. So that's always sort of a trigger for us when we see a pregnant lady, you know? It's like looking at your own future, you feel a personal interest in it."

"It's exactly like when I see another guy get hit in the balls," Dustin helpfully points out.

Public Service Announcement: If you ever throw a party that involves a word-association game, I'm sorry but we can't play.