When the dog bites, when the bee stings.

In honor of Chris's birthday (he's turning the big 3-2 today) I post a tribute to my awesome husband!

In the immortal words of Julie Andrews, "These are a few of my favorite things." In no particular order, these are just a few of the many things that make up the man that I love.

The kind of Dad he is. Though he has to spend so much time away from home and studying, his true joy is in being with his kids. He loves to get down at their level and play their games with them. And how their faces light up when they get the opportunity to spend time with Dad!

I love his singing voice. He's really good, but prefers not to be a public type of singer. My favorite is when he sings "Always something there to remind me" by Naked Eyes. It gives me the chills every time. He also knows how to Booo-geee--but I reserve that sight for me!

His hands. I have always been attracted to or repulsed by guys hands. If the guy was a hottie, but had funky hands, that would be a problem for me. Fortunately I got a hottie with very attractive hands. They also have an amazing power over my psyche. I am in constant stressed-out mode. But the second he gets me on his Chiro table and starts to adjust me, it all floods out of me. By the time he's done with me, I'm a pile of mushy goo. These are some of the few times I am truly relaxed.

His big brain. He is a total smartie! That man has muscles on his brain cells (though he would deny this vehemently). He works hard for his good grades, that's for certain, but he also has the brain power to back it up. He'll make a very educated DC. He also has an uncommon amount of common sense and a phenomenal memory.

His humility. One of the most selfless people I know, thinks he's selfish. Smart to the max, but wouldn't ever think himself so. Incredibly handsome, yet can't seem to see it about himself. There's not a vain bone in his body. In fact, as he reads this, I guarantee he's shaking his head and thinking, "wow, I've got my wife snowed too!"

He's always striving to be his best. Has a strong desire to be constantly learning. He's truly restless to learn and improve and grow. Whether it be secular or spiritual, he's always seeking, never stagnant.

His attention to detail. It's one of his super-powers. Although sometimes it bothers me that he sees so much, (because I think, "How can he not see the plethora of obvious flaws I have?" and when I, myself, am so oblivious to the details it's annoying to have someone be so right all the time) I truly do think it will make him an incredible doctor.

He keeps me grounded (yeah, I'm that much of a trouble-maker!). I tend to be a flighty bird, oblivious to the details, a procrastinator, always running late, ruled by my emotions, and a bit of a nerd. He's the yin to my yang. He's smart, hard-working, knows what needs to be done and how to do it, logical, was popular and fashionable in HS and helps me hide my nerdliness. He encourages me to be more grounded, but also to explore my creative side and flights of fancy.

His sense of humor. He has always cracked me up. He has a sharp wit that leaves me rolling, or at least giggling often. He's a tease who knows how to push my buttons, but he also takes it standing up.

I love his laugh--It's my favorite sound in the world. It does my heart so much good to hear him laugh. And if I can make him laugh, it just makes my day.


The way he looks in his glasses. He doesn't like them and will only wear contacts out in public. But I think he looks H-O-T- Hot!!


His Ghandi-like patience with his goofy wife. He puts up with so many of my insane quirks, tics, and idiosyncrasies. A lesser man would have given up on me long ago.


I love that he wants to be the kind of Doctor that doesn't just shuffle as many people through his office as possible, he wants to be the kind of Doctor that takes his time and gets to know his patients. He wants to make a real difference in their lives by helping them change their lifestyles positively. He wants to teach people how to govern themselves and keep themselves well. As much as he knows, he always worries that he'll know enough to truly help people.

These are just to name a few, the list could go on and on! There are a multitude of things that I love about my husband ~ not all of which are appropriate for public access. (**wink! wink!**)

Happy Birthday Love! Thanks for being my best friend and so much more!

Heard in the trenches

Aiden: Mom, could I put a monkey and a duck on my Christmas list?

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Aiden (who was very proud of the shirt he picked out and put on by himself): Charity, do you like my shirt? It has buttons.

Charity: . . . What??

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Kolbi was complaining her eye was bothering her. I couldn't find anything in it.

Me: (to Chris) do you think putting a few drops of saline in her eye would help?

Kolbi: A CUP OF SAND!?!?!?!?!?

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Jonah retrieved the mail from the mailbox for me. In it he found a copy of Better Homes and Gardens. After seeing an ad for Dove ProAge on the back cover, he proceeded to run up the driveway screaming, "She's naked! Mom, she's naked!" whilst waving the magazine in the air. Chris's response: "Well, the neighbors are never going to look at me the same again."

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Aiden and I were washing our hands with some yummy smelling coconut soap.

Me: MMM, you smell good enough to eat. Can I eat you for lunch please?

Aiden: No you can't eat me, I'm a kid.

Me: So?

Aiden: You can't eat kids?

Me: Why?

Aiden: Cause kids are family!

AAhh, It's all clear now!

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Overheard from the other room.

Aiden: (screaming~ lest you forget, his volume button is broken) But I HAVE to marry her!

Kolbi: (I didn't hear her response)

Aiden: No, she's a girl! Jonah and I have to marry girls! (growing heated)

Me: Aiden, what's going on?

Aiden: (Stomping into room). Mom, I have to marry Olivia!

Me: (Surpressing a smile--this is serious stuff here after all!) Oh really? Why?

Aiden: Because she drew me a picture!

Me: Okay bud. (he stomps off again)

Chris: I wish I would have known that rule a long time ago. I lead a lot of little girls on!

Me: Heartbreaker!!

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Aiden got a new stuffed puppy and we were discussing names for it.

Me: What do you want to call him?

Aiden: Frart.

Me: Frart?!?

Aiden: Yes. It's a good name.

Me: Frart?!? Are you sure you don't want to call him something else?

Aiden: Well, maybe Austin.

Me: Good choice.

Things that make a momma go AAAAAAGGGGHHH!!!

When telling an anecdote, my children cannot ever be interrupted without having to start the whole story over again ~ from the beginning ~ at the very first word! Let me paint a picture for you (keep in mind, this is a mild example--it's really much more annoying than presented here).

Scene: breakfast table.

Jonah: "Mom, David . . .
Zoe: (runs out of crackers, interrupts) MO!! (as in, "we want some mo!")

Jonah: "Mom, David always . . .
Zoe: MO Ma ma!!

Jonah: (sigh) "David always scr. . .
Zoe: MO!!

Jonah: (rolls eyes) "David always screams . . .
Zoe: MO!!

Jonah: (growling under breath) "David always screams in . . . "
Zoe: MO Ma MA!!! Ink! (drink)

Now I'm growling--"Just finish the story Jonah!!!!!"

Jonah: "DAVID ALWAYS SCREAMS IN CLASS!"

I can just imagine him as President of the United States, delivering some historical address (I know, I'm aiming really high for this little boy who has spent the entire morning on the floor, flailing about in full-on tantrum mode. But I suspect that's what some of those guys do too when we're not looking) . . .

"Fourscore and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation, conceived in liberty and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal. . .
. . .
. . .
. . .
(there's lots in between here)
. . .
. . .
that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom -- and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the . . . (someone sneezes in the audience)

"Great! Now I have to start all over again!"
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I have spoiled my children and turned them into tyrants!

I abhor stepping out of a hot shower into a cold room. It's like torture to me! I've never understood those polar bear people who swim in sub-kelvin water for the "FUN" of it. Terrorists could easily get me to divulge all of my secrets by switching me from a hot tub to a cold pool. I'd break in 2.5 seconds~(can you tell I've been watching too much 24?). Well, my children hate it too. Can you blame em?

The spoilage started when it started to get cold outside (well, cold for Texas anyways), thus it started to get cold in the house. I would drag the hair dryer into the bathroom and warm their towel up for them before draping it around their wet bodies. A nice, sweet, nurturing thing to do right? This simple act of kindness has spiraled out of control and ~ like indulging Gremlins appetites after midnight ~ has turned my children into whiny, screaming, demanding little tyrants the nanosecond the tub drains.

"I'm FREEEEE-Zing! Didn't you warm my towel up! I'm growing icicles between my toes! My boogers are icing up (I've had this happen when I lived in Rexburg, Idaho ~ it IS truly unpleasant)! I think I'm getting frostbite on my nose! Didn't you put my clothes in the dryer for me?! Bring me a goblet of something warm and chocolatey! "

This leaves me to ask all of you 80s movie buffs, How did they kill those evil gremlins in the end? Does it work for evil monkies?
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My son (surprisingly not the drama queen listed above), the one who is bleeding profusely from a gaping shrapnel wound (at least that's the way he tells it), begs/bugs/cries for a band aid to miraculously cure his ails. Within 5 minutes of the dramatic bandaging, however, I find him picking at it (the band aid that is). Despite my advice to please leave it alone, he keeps secretly and compulsively picking at it. Eventually I find little bits of band aid (cheap ones mind you--so the adhesive sticks like super glue to everything except flesh) all over the house, car, clothing, etc. As soon as every last scrap is removed, the histronics resume--he's bleeding to death, feeling faint from loss of blood, contracting gangrene from all of the germs that are attracted to his open wound, and desperately in need of another band aid to cure his ails.

Why you little . . . I'll give you a band aid alright!


AAAAAAAAGGGGGHHHHHH!!!

I'm hooked!

Welcome to my latest addiction!


If you are as addicted to these "limited edition" lovelies as I am, some other poor addict created an online petition to keep these beauties around year round.

Being as addicted as I am, I am as yet undecided if having them around all year would be a blessing or a curse.

If you have not tried these confectionary delights, I highly recommend it, but beware--they suck you in and don't let go!

Welcome to Blogworld--Leave your expectations at the door

I feel like most of my posts should be proceeded by disclaimers. This one should read: Warning--this post contains the many ramblings of a deranged mind. Proceed with caution.

From the day my friend Amy introduced me to the world of Blog, it didn't take me long to realize that I was entering a whole new world. The Blogworld is truly different and unique from reality. I say this, not as a criticism--for I am now so far into Blogworld, I'd need to get a Visa to get back out. But, people are different here, neat and tidy in their little blog-houses, surrounded by perfectly manicured and beautifully designed blog-lawns. People wear their hearts on their sleeves (some don't wear any sleeves at all!), saying things they wouldn't dare, or wouldn't have the opportunity to say to people face-to-face. Bloggers seem to be braver in expressing their thoughts and feelings 'cause what are people gonna do? Stop reading? Oh the horror!

For me personally, my induction into Blogworld has sent me on a journey of self-discovery. For instance, (this may come as a surprise to some of you, but) I used to be a pretty witty person--if I do say so myself. I was always one to come back with a snappy retort, crack a joke, leave 'em giggling. In the years since my 20-something, brain-filled-head days, my skull seems to have developed a slow leak. Whether those brain cells I donated to my plethora of children left my stockpile sadly depleted, my hypothyroidism is killing off my brain, or if it just simply died from lack of use, I don't know. All I know is that the wit is sadly missing in my 30s. My husband even comments occasionally, "when did you lose your sense of humor?" Man I miss my mind!

Through blogging, however, I have found that long-lost part of my brain. Turns out it was hibernating. There seems to be some kind of neurological connection between my brain and my typing hands that isn't there between my brain and my mouth. It's almost like my brain comes back to visit me for a time. When I type, my brain creatively runs amuk, takes flying leaps, dances like a prima ballerina. When I talk, however, my brain sputters . . . coughs . . . and dies. During a face-to-face conversation, I find that when I attempt to say something witty--come back with a snappy retort--that whole brain/mouth filter thingie kicks in. Like a snobby rich cheerleader, My brain just looks down it's nose me, laughs, and walks away. What a traitor my brain can be!

On more than one occasion, I've had people read the ol' blog and tell me I was funny, in almost a shocked/had no clue you had it in ya manner. See--there's something about the typing! I must say, It helps immensely to have the ability to delete, fix, retype any ridiculous thing I say. Like maybe this whole post?

Another oddity about Blogworld is the way I've made "friends" with so many people I've never met and probably never will. It has happened more than a few times that I stumble onto someone's blog by blog-hopping, or references from a friend's blog. I've found so many that I've enjoyed, become addicted to, and keep coming back for more. That includes you, Jen, Renee, Kathryn, Karen, among others. Through the ramblings (at least it feels like that's what mine are) of others, I feel like I've come to intimately know these people. I read their thoughts, hear about their lives, meet their families, exchange banter--all without leaving the comfort of my own home. I come to feel pretty in-the-know and intimate with these people. Sometimes it surprises me to remember that we've never actually met.

For a long time, I was content to be a fly on the wall of other people's blogs. Content to be one of those dreaded "Blog-stalkers", a parasite--enjoying the lives of others, but never contributing or commenting. I lurked for so long! Finally I got brave enough to contribute--to leave comments, to start my own blog. But those who I stalked, became like my inspiration, almost my idols. I met one of my idols the other day.

Jen is a friend of my friend Amy (got that?). I stumbled upon Jen's blog through Amy's and got hooked. Jen has an immensely enjoyable wit and I love the recipe portion of her blog she calls What's cookin' good lookin' --I check it regularly for menu ideas and it inspired me to start keeping track of my recipes on a blog. It turns out she lives in my home town and twice now, we've crossed paths. First time, I spied her and her two cuties (who were behaving like complete angels) in Wal-mart. I was floundering with my 4 monkies (who were behaving like the minions of satan) at the time or I would have said hi (or would I?). But the sighting inspired me to finally out (introduce) myself to her via comments on her blog.

The second meeting happened just a few days ago. I crossed her path at Albertsons (stores are our secret rendesvous spots apparently). She had only her beautiful little Ava in tow, while I was chasing satanic monkies (again) down the aisles. We were always 2 aisles apart, so once again, I didn't meet her in person. But then an opportunity presented itself. I had all of my lovely little darlings tucked safely in their carseats, drooling as their minds melted to the tune of Go, Diego, Go! on the van's (saintly) dvd player. I was about to pull out of my parking spot when she walked up to the SUV in front of me, and began to tuck Ava and her groceries into the car. I debated momentarily, after all this was one of my "blog idols", and I am merely a lowly blog-follower. What does one say to such a person? Finally, my guts kicked in, I pulled forward, opened the window, and introduced myself in person. She was as cute and gracious a she presents herself to be on her blog. We chatted for a moment and went about our merry ways. After the encounter, however, one thing struck me as yet another oddity of Blogworld. Her voice. (Now, keep reading Jen, I promise it's not bad!).

Let me start out by explaining something odd about myself (well, maybe it's not odd, maybe you do it to?). When I read novels, the characters have a particular voice in my head. Does that make sense? I picture their voices, nuances, etc. as sounding a particular way (i.e., gruff, deep, whiny, high-pitched, melodious, etc.). For this reason, I have a hard time sometimes listening to a book on tape after having read the novel first. I have the same problem with movies based on books. The voice on the tape/movie is not what I pictured in my head. It throws me off. Messes with my noggin. Well, here was someone who I felt, after so long of hearing her voice through her blog, I knew fairly well. But when she spoke . . . it was not the voice I had assigned to her in my head. I couldn't describe the voice in my head (yes, it's true, I hear voices in my head!), but the one that came from her was deeper and had a hint of an accent of some sort. It was beautiful. But it was a startling reminder that things are never quite what they seem.

I had an experience once when I was a freshman in college. I attended Ricks (yes, this is pertinant and I'm not just rambling--ok, yes I am, but what are you gonna do? Stop reading?) In Rexberg they have what are called lava tubes. There's an inactive volcano in the area and there are underground tubes or tunnels that used to carry the lava away from the volcano cone. Follow me? These are now emptied out cave-like tunnels. My friend took me to explore one one day--an awesome experience to be sure! We got to the back of the cave, where no light penetrated from the outside world--only the light from our flashlights. He sat me down on a rock, then turned off the flashlight for what seemed like eternity. I wouldn't recommend this if you are morbidly afraid of the dark or confined spaces! It was darker than pitch in there, we couldn't see a thing! The mind hates a void, and so, after a few minutes, your mind starts to tell you you can "see" things. It attempts to fill in the blanks and you start to feel as if your eyes are adjusting to the dark and you can start to pick out shapes. Once he turned on the flashlight, however, my reality was rocked. What I thought I saw, wasn't really there at all! It was all different from what my brain had filled in.

My point is this (you were starting to think I didn't have one, weren't you?) You may think you know someone intimately--you get a glimpse and your mind fills in the dark spots. Perhaps you do know them better than if you hadn't entered their blog-house. But, you can't know everything. My encounter was a startling reminder that, in Blogworld, you should leave your expectations at the door.

That Voodoo that you do so well

As the wife of an up-and-coming Wellness Doctor, I've been learning some wonderful holistic remedies for ailments. Here, in my layman's terms is one that I've found extremely useful.

Olive oil! It's not just for salads anymore! I've come to learn that Olive Oil has a ton of healing properties (is it any surprise that it is used in giving blessings?). Olive oil (the darker the oil, the more the healing properties) coupled with garlic oil are an EXCELLENT way to get rid of ear infections (among other things). Olive oil kills bacteria, don't know how, just know it works. Garlic has anti-inflamitory properties. Together, when put in the ear, kill the bacteria and stop the pain quickly.

Last Christmas all three of my older kids came down with ear infections. We were at Mimi and Pop's house in Oklahoma and away from our regular docs. I called my chiropractor first and asked for advice--Olive oil and garlic.

This is the way it worked. I used a child's medicine syringe (you can also just pour some into a spoon) and sucked up about a tsp olive oil. Then I sucked up about 1/2 tsp of the oil from a jar of minced garlic. I warmed a bowl of water up in the microwave, then placed the syringe of oils in the water until warmed just to body temperature (you don't want it too hot or too cold or it messes with your inner ear). Just put a drop on your wrist, if you can't really feel it much, it's the right temperature. Have the child lay down with sore ear up, place enough drops in the ear to fill it, then plug with a cotton ball. Within 15 minutes, the intense pain would subside. Usually they would take a nap, since they were feeling so crappy, by the time they woke up, they were right as rain. It was incredible to see these children evolve from crying out in agony to back to normal in a half-hours time. We've had several ear infections since then and used this remedy. It's worked every time and amazingly fast! No waiting for the antibiotics to kick in. No worrying about the overuse of antibiotics for ear infections. The pain is almost instantaneously gone. Ah, the beauties of good food for healing!

The things we keep

I've been a big time blogger/slacker. I have so many posts and pictures I've been meaning to do--lots of ideas and intentions. Have they brought forth fruit? NOPE!! In my defense, my hubby is still off school until the 14th. I am just Soakin' up all this time I have to spend with him and don't want to waste it on the computer. I promise, I'll catch up--just not today. Today I am the Queen of Procrastination!

In the meantime . . .

We've been having some family discussions lately about caring for the things we have and making them last. What's that old Pioneer motto - - - "Fix it up, wear it out, make it do or do without"? Well, I wanted to share this beautiful Christmas letter from my Grandparents. I found it so poignant, perhaps you will too.

(Sorry for the very odd formatting, like a proverbial 2 year old, Blogger has been throwing tantrums today. I give up! I'm through fighting it! Let the 2 year old wear purple tights, a stained t-shirt, mismatched shoes, and shorts today! --I've got real 2 year-old tantrums to deal with!)

Dear Family and Friends.

Our marriage is good, our dreams focused. We for years spent part of our winters in warm St. George, Utah and Indio, California. Summer, gardening, upholstering, me in my jeans, Glo (that's my grandma) in her house dress, lawn mower in one hand, and dish-towel in the other. Summer was a time for fixing things. Repair the garage door, paint the patio, honey do projects, mend the curtains, clean the house. We both kept busy. Always, early snows meant on the roof , making sure the snow was off for winter. Caring for things we keep.

It was a way of life, and sometimes it made us crazy. All that re-fixing, renewing. We wanted just once to be wasteful. Waste meant affluence. Throwing things away meant you knew there would always be more.

But then in 2006 we had to move away [they moved in with my parents]. Sell out, give it away, take it to Deseret Industries or thrift stores. We were struck with the pain of learning that sometimes there isn't any more. Sometimes, what we care about most gets all used up and goes away . . . never to return. So . . . while we have it . . . it is best we love it . . . care for it, and fix it up when broken . . . and heal it when it is sick. This is especially true . . . for marriage . . . children and siblings . . . pets with bad hips or only three legs . . . and ageing parents.

Grandparents . . . we keep them because they are worth it, because we are worth it. Other things we keep! Like best friends that move away, or neighbors who once were just a wave away, and now are fondest memories, classmates that we grew up with.

There are just some things that make life important, like people we know or knew, who are special . . . And so we keep them close at all times and in all places.

We are sending this to you because we think you are 'KEEPERS' and hope we are. May this Christmas Season be special in your lives and may it be "Merry CHRISTmas" and not just "Happy holidays".

Gloria and 'Pete' Peterson