Eve's Fancy Nancy Birthday Party

A party just isn’t a party unless your guests exit the event in a cloud of glitter with paint under their fingernails and chocolate smudges coating their lips, fingers, and tutus (yes, tutus are required).

The boys’ parties of 2008 were relatively low-key because I spent most of the year trying to recover from Marie’s smash-down, drag out birth scenario. But when 2009 came rolling around, I was ready to dive back in to party mode with a pink vengeance.


Last year for Christmas, Eve received a copy of what is possibly the most overwhelmingly adorable book ever illustrated by woman’s hand—Fancy Nancy. I literally cried the first time I read it to Eve—when you read it every fiber of femininity squeals with girlish delight. We absolutely HAD to have a Fancy Nancy party!

For weeks before the party, Eve and I huddled together in the Craft Room with her copy of Fancy Nancy and poured over the elegant details of each page, carefully making notes to craft the perfect party. She oversaw the planning of each activity and favor like the true daughter of a party-planner, making sure we had the heart-shaped box of chocolates shown in the corner one page of the book and that we made the feather pens Nancy wrote with on another page of the book (where on earth does she get this attention to detail?), asking me if I had written each item on our master list. (WHAT FUN! I had to stop myself from perpetually giggling with fiendish feminine JOY!)

Eve was befrocked in her fancy outfit to deliver her uber-frilly invitations to each of her guests, and leaned in to tell each one secretively, "We're going to learn French!"  How painfully cute is that?  BONJOUR!?  I am, like, TOTALLY fluent French!  I mean, how could I contain my girlish glee?!?  

Between making tutus and t-shirts, dreaming up the ideal loot-bags, and watching Eve enjoy the planning of the party as much as the party itself, how could I possibly sleep the week of the party?  How CAN one sleep when such cuteness is on the horizon?

So. . . here's the party in ALL (and I mean ALL) of it's 

GIRLY-GLORY!!! HEH, HEH, HEH!

Happy Birthday, Relief Society!

This is the movie I have been eating, sleeping, and breathing (as opposed to eating real food, getting actual sleep, and breathing any real breaths of non-stressed air) for the past. . . I don't know how many days.  

I don't think I've stayed up for 23 consecutive hours since high school, but this week I proved that I've still got it! ("It" meaning the obsessive need to perfect a project despite all rational arguments and normal-person logic.) Everything that could go wrong with the technology did, and Monday night I sat at my computer weeping as the hours passed and I still couldn't get the audio to work, white knuckled from squeezing my hands together, laughing through my tears as the program I installed to fix the problem erased the only program that was working. 

I finished at 5:30 AM, producing what was a very flawed finished product, but was at least a finished product.  

At Enrichment, the movie bucked and stalled and I smiled serenely, knowing that I had to either "let go" or lose my mind.  I let go. . . I CHOSE to let go.  Let go and move forward.  

We didn't watch the whole movie.  We never did.  

My audience waited as I hemmed and hawed and tried to get the DVD player to be obedient. They laughed as the unfortunate sister projected on the mammoth-sized screen was frozen mid-sentence, her eyes drooping and her mouth stretched awkwardly around an unfinished vowel.  In the end, we watched some parts 3 times and others not at all.  

I didn't cry.  I didn't whine.  I just bore my testimony about finding RELIEF in Relief Society because "relief" was the very contradictory, almost laughably ironic word that describes how I felt.  I wanted to jump up and down (reverently, of course) and say, "THIS, sisters, is what it feels like to have GRACE under pressure!" Grace.  That's what it feels like.  Ironic.  Unmerited.  Absolute peace despite surrounding turmoil.  Control in the uncontrolled chaos.  

 Afterwards, one sister took me aside and through her tears said, "Sarah, thank you for showing us we don't have to be perfect to be loved.  We don't have to be perfect to feel the Spirit.  That was the lesson we all needed to see."  

I learned an unforgettable lesson about meekness and letting go and not needing to be perfect in order to share the Spirit.  I had literally prayed all night long for my computer to work (what would the pioneers have thought about that?), but in the end, my computer not working and my reaction to it was part of the lesson I needed to share.  

Here's the movie, minus the personal interviews that are personal enough that I didn't want to include them on my personal blog (What a terrible sentence that seems like a contradiction, but it's not. . .okay?  Just trust this sleepless brain!) I just mean that they were interviews of some of the sisters in my ward.

I LOVE the clips from our Relief Society leaders. . . they just make me want to serve more, be more aware of the needs of those around me, and belt out "As Sisters in Zion" from my rooftop!

ENJOY!

Give Her Five!

Daddy : Eve, you have to always be my little girl.

Eve : But Dad, I can't marry you!  You're already married!

Daddy : Yes.  But you can always be my little girl and you can live with us forever.

Eve : Dad, you're a nut-case!

                     *****

Evening bliss, the tightening every five minutes 

during a Relief Society Fireside.

Are you the one in labor? 

Sisters gathered around 

then I smiled home,

packing my bags and my hopes of a finally feminine voice.

Mere hours later, a few natural strains and she, she, she

cried a girlish cry, opening big and bold.

Nearly double digits of her own flair already.

I held my genesis, my fruit, my Eve.

My Valentine's Day Gift to My Valentine!

Dynamic d'Evegnees

Getting home from Church at noon increases not only the time we have for family play, but apparently it sends our kids' imaginations into a new dimension where costumes roam free and super-hero-powers come alive.

A few Sundays ago the kids were playing downstairs while I was causing a wave of domestic destruction in the kitchen and preparing Sunday dinner. When I went downstairs I found them in a huddle of heroic proportions, collectively fighting off galactic bad guys en masse. They had already created the cast of characters, complete with the description of their super-powers and a plot for their upcoming movie (which is still in negotiations with the producers--aka the parents who own the expensive equipment).

The names, the powers, and the costumes were all their own--I'm just the lady that brought it to the big screen!

Snow Ice Cream for a Snow Day!

The kids just finished licking their bowls to get every last creamy drop of this wonderful snow-confection, and we had to share the recipe and the demo-video!  (I  just had a spoonful, and it was pret-ty tasty!)

The kids foraged for the snow outside (you can guess the kind of severe warning I gave about avoiding the yellow kind!), and then helped measure and mix the other ingredients (since there are only a total of four, it was very easy to manage, even with the bonus of holding Marie the entire time).  We had a ball. . . a SNOW-ball, that is!  (Dork alert!  Dork alert!)

Let me get some of their ratings and reviews, since they're surrounding me as I type this. 

Ethan says, "It's snow-tastic!" 

Holden says, "It's really goooood! So try it!" 

Eve says, "Put some chocolate on it and then mix it!"

 Caleb says, "Two thumbs up!"   

Peter says, "I-Keem. . . chomp!"

Marie says, "Heyaaa!"

                For dinner tonight we re-lived some of our Provo days of yore and re-created one of our favorite salads that was a get-rid-of-that-baby-weight go-to recipe because it was so healthy and flavorful.  Unfortunately, we can't get it through the drive-through anymore (although we rush to El Azteca whenever we're in Happy Valley), so we did our best to imitate it.

Someone forgot to move the grill before the big snow-storm hit (that would be moi), so I had to pull on my boots and climb up and around the grill to do the chicken from above like some sort of Eskimo-she-woman, but it was worth it!

Eve went wild for the jicama, but kept referring to it as "hippopoto-ma," so I think that will be its new name in our house .

El Azteca Grilled Chicken Salad

(This much will make 6-8 salads)

Place 4-5 chicken breasts in a plastic freezer bag and add:

1/4 cup onion (I just used dried minced)

2 t fresh garlic or garlic salt

4  T cilantro (dried or use 1/4 cup fresh)

1/2 packet chili seasoning

2 T cumin

4 T lime juice

1 cup Zesty Italian dressing

Marinate for 6-8 hours (I was rushed this morning [who me? rushed? huh?] and only had them in the marinade for 3 hours and the meat was still full of flavor)

Grill the chicken 8-10 minutes on each side and then let rest for 5-10 minutes before you slice it into luscious chunks of tender-meat-fiesta.

Other ingredients:

1-2 heads of red-leaf lettuce, rinsed and chopped (you could use romaine too, or sometimes we use spinach)

1 can corn

1 jicama (pronounced "hiccma." Ask for it in the produce section if you aren't sure where to find it), peeled and diced into cubes

Grated cheese

Mexican rice (6 cups cooked brown or white rice with 1 cup salsa and 1 cup low-fat cheese mixed in when it's still hot)

Black beans (I just rinsed them and cooked them in a saute pan with garlic, minced onions, a little tomato juice, 2 t cumin, and 2 t cilantro for about 5 minutes)

salsa

To assemble the salad :

Layer lettuce, corn, jicama, cheese, rice, beans, and salsa.  Top with chunks of chicken.  You can serve it with light or fat free Ranch Dressing or just sprinkle fresh lime juice on the top.  

The kids had some tortilla chips with theirs, but I was the epitome of self-control and resisted the crunch!