Bragger Swagger.

I'm kind of a weird blogger. Some people post about their daily activities. Some post about their children. Some post about crafts and cooking things. I just kind of post about random things in life, I suppose. But today, I'm going to brag. And I'm doing it proudly. (Is there any other way?)

This guy is a stud.

He likes to flip the pages in books. He laughs when others laugh. He thinks he is the world's coolest guy. He throws everything in the trashcan. When you give him his binky, it's like you've handed him a million dollars and he lights up with excitement. He watches Pingu. He loves to touch buttons- remote controls, Xbox controller, Wii controller, cell phones, electric guitar tuner- you name it. He loves eggs, cookies, Derek's homemade crockpot ribs, blueberry cereal bars, ice cream, cheese, pizza, macaroni and cheese, cereal, WAFFLES WITH SYRUP (which he calls "wah-kos"), PB&J sandwiches, chorizo, graham crackers, bananas, nilla wafers, SPICY PORK RINDS, and the list goes and goes. He doesn't like strawberries (sometimes), or veggies. He likes to take rides in the wagon at grandma's house. He loves other little kids soooo much. He loves taking baths. He doesn't walk in sand, only crawls- I think he thinks he's stuck. He doesn't love toys, but he loves the packages they come in! He is a mastermind. He can climb up onto the chair and onto the table in less than a minute and next thing you know, he's perched atop the dinner table! He sleeps with a teddy bear whose belly lights up that his great grandma Sikora gave to him. He snuggles up to a wubby that Adele made him and he takes it with him when he goes places sometimes. He hates sitting in his stroller for too long. He loves to dance to music- especially Ke$ha's "Blah blah blah" (it's a horrible song, don't listen to it) and then he'll walk around saying "Blah blah blah" for 5 minutes afterwards. He loves to run everywhere and the kid is FAST! He likes to strum on my guitar and bang the keys on grandma's piano. He loves to empty out the cupboards. He will hold his diaper, sit down for you to change him, then either hand it to you when you're ready or try to put it on himself. He helped us make the bed the other day and tried to assist me in putting on my shoes. He repeats EVERYTHING I say- it's scary. He says Titan, yucky, papa, mama, dada, waffle, bad boy, uh-uh, uh-oh and he nods his head yes and no (although I'm not sure he's aware of when to use them correctly). He is an all around stud and I'm so lucky he's our baby! This is my motherly brag moment. We love love love ya, Titan!

El Paso-isms.

I wonder what kind of breakdowns Americans would have if they visited friendly ole El Paso for a week or so. A mental breakdown, possibly an emotional breakdown...maybe even cardiac arrest from the all-encompassing aura that surrounds El Paso and it's cohabitants. Sometimes I wonder if I will miss this place....

It's not likely.

Here are some El Paso-ims. If you've never lived in or around Arizona, New Mexico or Southern Texas, you might not understand me here.

1. People add an "s" to everything. Example: "Hey hombre- I think I need to stop by Barnes and Nobles to pick up a book real quick."

2. "D"s become "T"s very quickly. Sheridan's old co-worker once told her she was in a really "Bat Moot".

3. Wal-Mart is pronounced "Gwalmart" and sandwich is "Sangwich". (???) Is it just me or are those other words waaay harder to say.

4. People eat fried bologna with syrup. I went into shock when I heard this and then laughed like...that's a joke right? They looked at me like I WAS THE WEIRD ONE. (Am I???)

5. When a guy has a tattoo of a teardrop under his eye it means he's either killed someone himself or a family member has been murdered. When you see people with a tattoo of three dots between their thumb and forefinger, they are (or were previously) a member of a gang and earned the right to lead others within that gang. Yeah- I see those tattoos all the time on my patients and I've never seen them on anyone anywhere else I've lived!

6. There is a homeless man who moves to different stoplights all across El Paso (did I mention it takes an hour to DRIVE from one end to the other? He is most definitely NOT homeless) with a scrolling marquee that reads bible verses about helping those in need. What's better is he has a long stick with a cup on the end so he doesn't have to get out of his chair when you want to give him money. What a guy.

7. If you order food at a restaurant and don't have money, it's on the house until you find a way to pay them back.

8. It's normal to get paid minimum wage for every job imaginable and not get a raise for over 3 years. (Not my circumstance, but definitely most people's!)

9. You can be a solid 2 bills and wear tube tops and skinny jeans like they're going out of style.

10. Velour suits with high heels, hoop earrings, big gold bracelets and heavy eyeliner= sexy.

11. Not knowing your own phone number is completely legit. People here would probably have a heart attack if they knew you didn't have to either whip out your cell phone or an old piece of paper to get your own phone number off of it.

12. It's ironic how the murder capital of the world has a "No guns" sign at the entrance.

13. I'm convinced it's the only city that will sell bottled aguas frescas at the gas station and Sabritas Mexican chips at the grocery store.

14. Everything's backwards. The authentic Mexican chips say "2 dollars only" on the front of the bag and there's a restaurant here called "Gorditas Tony's"

15. Instead of a regular speed limit sign, they have "Minimum Speed" and "Maximum Speed" signs along with "Night Speeds" on the freeway. You understand why when you see an old beater truck stacked to the clouds with everything you can think of. Wood pallets, dressers with clothes in them, tree branches...and it's all perfectly strapped down somehow. Those Mexicans know how to pack a truck!

Anyway, these are just a few of the things I will shed tears over when we leave. Love ya, El Paso! And I will miss your authentic Mexican food. Just for the record.

Round is a shape.

Guys, I'm getting into shape. That's it. No more laying around at night eating Ben and Jerry's Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough Ice Cream and having quesadillas with Taco Bell sauce for lunch. Okay actually, I have almost a full pint in the freezer that I'd never let go to waste and I don't technically believe in diets so I'm just going to be working out more often. Plus- exercising gives you energy, which everyone could use more of right? Right.

And while I'm exercising and not dieting, Derek is doing the opposite. He is on a new diet. He cooks bacon almost every morning and makes himself eggs (cooked in the bacon grease of course). For lunch he digs into a huge steak that has been marinating for at least 48 hours in a special sauce he concocted, then vacuum sealed with his favorite Food Saver kit. (If you didn't already know, my husband lives a secret life of Betty Crocker** (See picture)

**
He scopes out the aisles at Sears looking for his perfect new skillet, goes to the cooking store at the outlet mall to look for a set of wooden spoons that he'd been dreaming of, looks online for new burger recipes, and yadda yadda. The man is a pro. Eating his meals are like eating out every night. It's wonderful. But I'm getting off onto a tangent here...

Derek eats everything everyone else on a diet wouldn't touch. And in the last month he has lost 17 pounds. Amazing! When he works out a ton or does the Special K diet, does P90X with the diet guide, tries eating less portions...it doesn't work. But he's doing the no-carb, all meat diet and apparently it's working awesome for him. I'm convinced if I did it, I'd end up the same size as him and he's a good 100+ pounds more than me so I think I'll just do my sit ups before bed and call it good.

By the way, I think I've been living in El Paso waaaaaay too long. I just turned to Derek and asked, "Hey, how much pounds have you losed?" My IQ goes down with each day I'm here. Poor El Paso.

Mr. Cool

Look at this guy. Doesn't he just look like he's saying, "Hey ladies...I'm single..." This is my 2 month old nephew and he is awesome. Look at those cheeks! Yum yum yum. And he always smells good, unlike Titan when he was that age. Seemed like I always reeked of disgusting regurgitated breast milk. I'm beginning to think little babies are not that bad. But not enough to want another one quiiiiiiite yet. Love you, Sawyer!

People Watching Is Addicting, No?

We live on a fairly high-traffic road so when I'm about to pull out of our complex and onto the main road to head to work, I end up just sitting there in my car until the traffic clears. This sea of cars roll past me and while I have nothing to do...why not pick out one car and watch them as they pass me? (Come on, you've done this.)

I saw a 50-something year old man rollin down the street like a pimp in his...yeah...Mini Cooper. I like Mini Coopers. In fact, my mom drives an awesome Mini Cooper S. Buuuut, they are kind of like Volkswagen Beetles. They are chick cars.



Next I saw this late twenties, early thirties dude all fancy in his white shirt and suit coat, barreling down the street in this white Subaru WRX STI. Now, for you ladies whose husbands are not completely obsessed with this particular car, here is what it looks like. The guy had these stickers all along the running board of different racing sponsors. So no matter how fancy this guy dressed, it looked like he was driving a model car that looked like it belonged in a 12 year old boy's room. (I admit, it was pretty cool though)


I finally get onto the street and drive towards the next major intersection. Sure enough, I look to my left and see a guy from my ward. He is a professor at the University here. He's sitting there in his suuuper fancy new car....shaving his face.


So, really, you just never know who is spying on you while you drive. Is your finger up your nose??? Are you singing and whipping your hair back and forth like crazy at a red light? Or perhaps putting your makeup on? (Or trying to...) So next time you have a crusty in your eye, or a boogie up your nostril...look around before you know, picking it out.

Burn, baby, Burn.

Seriously.

I. Burn. Everything.

The other day I pulled a plate out of the microwave that had been in there for 50 seconds. Burned my hand.

I try and make pancakes...the middle is gooey and the outside is what? Burned.

I want to fry an egg, whose best part is the yolk of course, and the middle is none other than burned as well. Stiff like yellow rubber.

I'm straightening my hair and all of the sudden the inside of my index finger is on fire. From my hair! Red and calloused, burned and re-burned.

I've even gotten so good at burning that I FREEZER BURNED something the other day.

Awesome.

Let's Start Over...

I failed. And I failed miserably.

My attempt to not be so feisty has been hard...and it finally came to an end.

Today.

I was stopped at a red light when I saw a kid throw paper after paper out his window and onto the street (I think they were receipts).

My feisty big black-woman like attitude burst out of my little body and I'm sure the words in my head went something like, "Oh HEEEEEE** NO".

I LAID my hand on my horn for a good couple of seconds just before rolling down my window and yelling, "Hey!!!!!!!!! It's called
a TRASHCAN you MORON!" and I laid on my horn yet again.

The sassy little 10th ish grader rolled up his window and his friend waved at me through the sunroof.

This is when I flipped them off.

Then turned into the church parking lot for Activity Days.

Oops.