Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Anatomy 101

According to Freud, Bug is still in the Oral Stage. I'm not much of a believer in the Freudian ways. I prefer to stick with Erikson's psychosocial development stages. I do, however, see examples of Bug wanted to learn about and explore his body...and anyone else's, for that matter.

"Where's Bug's head?" I ask. If I am lucky, Bug will reach up and pat his head with both of his hands. How's that for cute? Most of the time, though, Bug will shriek with delight and grab the closest toy (which usually ends up in his mouth).

"Brush you teeth!" has become one of my famous sayings...already! Every time the hubs and I get our toothbrushes ready and start brushing, Bug won't be satisfied until he has his own brush in hand. He thinks it is just a regular toy, and it gets carried around the house, despite my attempts to keep it in the bathroom. Now....where has it gone this time?

"Cabeza, Cara, Hombros, Pies. Hombros, Pies. Hombros, Pies. Cabeza, Cara, Hombros, Pies. Ojos, orejas, boca, nariz!" For those of you don't know already, this is the Spanish version of the song "Head, shoulders, knees and toes". I'm fairly convinced that Bug's first word is going to be in Spanish, and I won't even know that he's said his first word, because I won't understand it!

Perhaps Bug will grow up to be an ENT or a dentist. His little fingers love to probe into any facial orifice they can find. Usually this is my mouth or nose while nursing. And on more than one occasion, I have found him picking his nose...which is usually followed by a demonstration of how he can fit his whole fist into his mouth.

Nursing games. Uhm...we won't go into all that goes on while nursing, it's just embarrassing. Fine, fine. Ok! Quit pestering me about it, I'll tell you. Nosey people. Anyway, Bug likes to twiddle (as most older nursing babies/toddlers do), and fondle, and blow raspberries. And just yesterday, he lovingly grabbed a hold of my belly fat roll and squeezed and kneaded it gently. How sweet.

Tickles! Bug is so ticklish on his belly button...and his upper thigh. And he loves to blow raspberries on my belly button. He would probably do it to his daddy, too, but nobody likes the feeling of having a hair stuck in your mouth.

"Toes in your nose" is a favorite game of ours. Kids are just so darn flexible, and they love it when their feet are close to their faces, for some reason. I just love those soft baby feet. Too bad they are getting much more wear and tear now that Bug is walking everywhere. Yep, even babies get toe jam; although, it is somewhat more adorable to see baby toes full of lint than big people toes full of lint.

Diaper changing horror. Good grief! Can't I go a week without having to mention poop? Well, the bodily exploration doesn't end. Poopy diapers are a pain to change. Usually I have to set a wipe aside for Bug's hands. And once his bum is clean, I have to swipe away his hands from his crotch to get his on his clean diaper. Is this Bug moving into one of Freud's other stages???

Monday, April 27, 2009


Did I include this one on my acronyms list? No?! Oh, well...if you don't know what it means, it's Pee On A Stick. You know, the preggo test type of stick. I am seriously addicted to these things. I need to go to POAS-A. (That stands for pee on a stick anonymous.) I figured out...probably not soon enough...that you can buy tests from any old dollar store and save a ridiculously large amount of money. Yeah, have you ever wondered exactly how much an arm and a leg cost? Pretty much the same as I have spent on pregnancy tests.

Last week I decided it was time to get more tests, because I had been out of them for a month. And that is way too long. You see, I take a test every week. Because I'm still nursing Bug A LOT, I haven't returned to my cycles. I won't get that lucky "Am I late?" sign that I should probably go POAS. If I take a test every week, I will be able to know almost exactly how pregnant I am...if I actually ever am pregnant when I POAS. The logic is there, trust me! But, I didn't have any cash. And who the heck ever remembers the PIN number for their bank card? And there isn't a single dollar store around here that will just let me use credit. So, I submitted to the call of the pricey preggo tests from Meijer. Well, I really bought the cheap brand, but I got a box that had TWENTY tests in it! Oh yeah, I was set for 5 whole months!

The next morning, I got up with my husband to drive him to the bus stop, which I don't do every day...but that is totally irrelevant. Anyway, I was up and I WAS going to POAS, 'cause I had been having some crampy, moody feelings this past always. But then I noticed that the box of "pregnancy" tests were really ovulation tests. DRAT!!! What a waste of money. And when we bought them, I saw the ovulation tests and thought to myself, "Self, make sure you don't get those, because the boxes look the same, but they won't work, and they would be a total waste of money!" Then my husband said, "Don't take a test today." Yeah, I noticed. Of course, he had noticed, too. (He thinks I'm pregnant just as frequently as I do!)

So, because I had the car for the day, I figured I might as well return the tests and get some real ones. I scanned through the HUGE receipt (naturally, it was the same day we did major grocery shopping) to highlight the tests and make it easier for the return, threw it all in a bag (a Meijer one, of course. Wouldn't that be horrible if I returned the tests in a Wal-Mart bag!?!) and jumped in the car. When I got there, I strolled up to the customer service counter, scanning, hoping, for a woman to be there. No luck. If you think it is embarrassing to BUY pregnancy tests, imagine how horrible it is to RETURN them (or something that looks deceptively like them), with a baby on your hip, looking frumpy and mom-ish, when a young, fat, geeky looking man is working the returns. Perfect. So I tell him I need to make a return, plop the bag on the table, and shift Bug to the other hip...trying to keep from turning red as he opens the bag to pull the box out. Meanwhile, I'm thinking, "Ok, ok, skip all the chit-chat about how cute my baby is...I know, he's cute...obviously I know that or else I wouldn't be trying for another one. Obviously I'm trying for another one. As far as you know, I've already been successful, and that's why I'm returning this junk. And why are you even using the word "cute"? I didn't think that was a word men used willingly. Yeah, the one on my hip is still really young. Done?! See ya!"

Once I was done with the return, I headed straight to the tests to get some more...pregnancy tests this time. Gosh, it will be so much better once I get a positive test and I can just stop taking them for 9 months!

Saturday, April 25, 2009

Welcome warmth!

The weather has turned warm, at last! We have celebrated this by turning on Pandora (some fancy Spanish music. ¡Que capo Carlos Vives!) and dancing away the afternoons. I'm not a very good dancer. Although, my husband may disagree with that. He somehow is blind to how stupid I look and can only see my voluptuous curves and beauty. Go figure.

Even Bug is a better dancer than I am! Every time music is turned on, he puts his hands in the air, bounces around and laughs. He doesn't need curves to be a good dancer! And he can dance to any kind of music. Latin, Billy Joel, Josh Groban, the credit music to Fiddler on the name it, he'll dance to it!

Another way we have celebrated the warmth of the impending summer: going coverless and practically naked (not me, just Bug). Yep, we're back into cloth (after taking a couple weeks of 'sposies while Bug was sick and had HORRIBLE poops, then us getting ready to move, then trying to get our washer and dryer back up and in business). And it is so awesome to just slap a prefold on his bum and let him run around. I can feel as soon as he is wet, and he gets all that air circulation on his skin. Sometimes I put a t-shirt on him, too...but most of the time not. Naked babies are so much easier to take care of. And coverless cloth dipes are so much easier to change. Although my hubby is paranoid to even pick Bug up without a cover. But, seriously? How can you resist a cute, little guy with a diaper wedgie???

Oh, how we love warm weather!

Thursday, April 23, 2009

Please Research: Co-Sleeping vs CIO

Bug sleeps in bed with me and my hubby. It has its ups and downs, but mostly just ups. Sometimes I say that I'm a lazy mom, and that's why I parent the way I do (i.e., "crunchy"). It definitely makes it easier to have Bug in bed with me at night. That means that I don't have to get up and out of bed when he needs me. If he needs to nurse, I can do it while I'm still half asleep. Heck, I may even nurse him while I'm wholly asleep. I honestly couldn't tell you how many times I "wake up" at night. And in the morning, it is such a happy thing to wake up to my little guy's face, all bright and cheery.

I'm just going to tell you now: I LOVE the Drs. Sears! I'm not big into medicine or doctors or regular checkups...but these guys are great. They are very natural-minded. In fact, they are the Attachment Parenting gurus. I don't agree with EVERYTHING they say, but I probably agree with about 99%.

I recently bought their book, The Baby Sleep Book. I bought it because I know there will come a day when I will have to wean Bug from our as soon as I get pregnant again, because the new baby will get priority seating laying (don't know when that will be, but I hope it is sooner rather than later)! I learned a lot from reading the book.

The first thing I did when I opened the book was flip to the chapter about co-sleeping. Of course I was interested, because we are a co-sleeping family. I had NO IDEA how good co-sleeping is for both mothers and babies! The health benefits alone are amazing. Once you add in the emotional and developmental benefits, it is a wonder anyone WOULDN'T co-sleep! Co-sleeping helps regulate breathing in the baby. This helps to reduce the chance of SIDS. Co-sleeping teaches babies how to go to sleep happily and to sleep better, because their stress levels are down when they are close to mom. There are just so many reasons to co-sleep!

The next chapter I read was the chapter about whether or not to let your baby Cry-It-Out (CIO). I was interested in what the Sears' would have to say about CIO, because they are such proponents of co-sleeping. I guess you could say I wasn't disappointed. They had scientific facts and good old common sense to tell parents why they should NOT let their baby CIO. Ask anyone, and they will likely say that babies should never be left alone during the day. Yet, tons of families are leaving their babies alone at night, to cry and try to fall asleep on their own. It's a shocking thing, really. Everything said in the CIO chapter was opposite of the amazing-ness found in the co-sleeping chapter. I wonder how people cannot see the difference!

Western culture is practically the only one that regularly practices separate sleeping. Actually, our western culture is practically the only one that regularly practices non-attachment parenting. (What? I haven't done a "Please Research" on Attachment Parenting?!? Sorry about that! I promise, my next PR will be on AP. Really, it should have been my first, as it encompasses all the rest of my other PR posts!)

Of course, I can't really get into all the details...or I would be writing a book! But I want you to -PLEASE- research co-sleeping. I'm glad that I have researched. And I'm glad I practice co-sleeping!

Monday, April 20, 2009

Exasperatingly Funny

Some of the things that Bug does can be very exasperating. Typically, I just laugh. No, actually, I typically get exasperated...and then I laugh after the annoyance wears off. Some of the things that Bug does can be very goofy. Typically, I just laugh. Sometimes, Bug laughs too. And that makes a mother happy, indeed! Here are lots of little things that either exasperate or cause laughter:

Before Bug learned how to walk...Heck, even before Bug was good at crawling, he learned how to get around very easily. He would assume the crawling position (the usual one, on hands and knees) and place his hands item. (Now, I say "item" because it could be any number of different things. Most often, the item was a DVD case, because Bug LOVES to pull all the DVD cases off the shelf and make a big mess. Sometimes the item would be a CD case, or a book, or a piece of paper, or a somewhat slippery and flat toy.) Then, he would push the item across the floor, crawling using only his legs. He would "crawl" until he hit a wall or some other obstacle. After that, he would usually cry, because he couldn't go anywhere else.

As I have relayed in several other posts, Bug loves to eat paper. Oh, paper, you are the bane of my existence! Yet, I need you, obviously, or else you wouldn't be scattered ALL OVER MY HOUSE! I don't know how, but Bug finds the most important papers to snack on. Like receipts. I don't know why those are important, really. But, my husband insists that they are; thus, Bug finds and eats them. And books. Bug doesn't just eat books, first he tears the pages out. Apparently, the pages are more delicious to the taste when they aren't attached to the rest of the delicious pages! Luckily he hasn't destroyed too many books. But he has been found to "feast on the word". Yes, my scriptures were nibbled on...slightly. Luckily, the page that was ripped out to be devoured was a blank page from the very front of my quad. And the page from my husband's scriptures was taped back, using my superior taping skills! That ultra thin scripture paper must be a paper-eating delicacy, because Bug enjoys it the most! Maybe that's why he likes those receipts so much, too?

Perhaps Bug is just going to be one righteous kid. He already folds his arms when we pray. And sometimes he folds his arms when we aren't praying. And sometimes he doesn't fold his arms when we are praying. I haven't figured it all out yet. He decides when and where to be reverent, apparently!

Recently, Bug has figured out how to remove his own diaper. Oh, joy. This isn't a problem when he is dressed, thank goodness. But, when we get out of the shower, it is easiest for me to just throw a diaper on his cute, little bum, then take care of myself. After I'm ready, then I get Bug dressed. Well, that USED to be the easiest for me. I may have to reevaluate. Or just figure out how to make "Fecal Matter" posts more interesting.

My dad is a RN, but when I was growing up, he was a construction worker. (The housing slump that began about 5 years ago prompted him to go back to school.) I think he really misses building houses. Instead, he now takes the opportunity to improve my apartment. It's kind of nice to have a personal maintenance guy. Especially one that is a perfectionist with a good eye! He decided that I needed a wooden security bar for the track of my sliding back door. Although, I am on the second floor. But, safety first, right?! Well, the wooden bar is light enough for Bug to pick up, and carry around. It is very awkward for him, considering it is about a foot taller than he is. But that doesn't stop him, no sirree! He carries the big stick around the house. I wonder what he thinks it is? I know he has lots of using anything that has buttons (i.e., Wii remote, calculator, TV remote) as a phone. But, I don't use that big stick for anything other than to keep my back door safe from robbers that scale buildings. (I know you read my blog occasionally, dad! If you read this post, I hope you know I am complementing you, but you can have your stick back before Bug damages something!)

Just last night, Bug put one of his socks on his head and looked at me with a big smile. I don't know why he did it, but it was so stinkin' cute! Then, the sock fell off, so he put it on his head again and smiled. Yep, still cute.

And then there are the baby laughs. Gosh, that is a sound I could listen to 24/7. Erm, well, at least 16/7, 'cause I don't think I could sleep with cute baby laughs going on all the time! Bug laughs when I tickle his belly with my hair. And my husband can ALWAYS get Bug to laugh. Really, it's not fair. But it's very sweet.

And when Bug laughs too hard, too long, he gets the hiccups. Adorable!

Sunday, April 19, 2009

I love being a mother!

I love being a mother. Here are some reasons why:

Random Snuggles. Sometimes Bug takes a break from playing to come give me a snuggle. He lays his little head on whatever part of me he gets to first (I often lay on my stomach and read while Bug plays. The snuggles usually end up directed to the softest part of me. In this circumstance, my rear end!), sighs or babbles a few things, then gets back up and on his way. The snuggles are only a couple of seconds long, but they can restore hours of lost sleep and frustration for me!

All the Firsts. First smile, first roll-over, first crawl, first step and on and on. There is little more exciting than a baby's firsts! When I see Bug beginning something new, my heart gets full and fluttery. I may blame my whacked out hormones, but I almost come to tears when I see my baby learning and mastering skills.

Sleeping Baby. The sleep smiles, the twitches, the coo's, the peace. A sleeping baby is so precious. It is a relief for moms when the baby finally goes down for a nap or the night, but I also think babies probably dream of Heaven. If that is so, how could you NOT love baby sleep?

The Responsibility. I love being responsible for Bug. It's great to be able to learn new things (check out my "Please Research" posts for some things I've studied). I do become more and more "crunchy" with all the studying. But, it is very rewarding to study and continue educating myself for the benefit of my family.

Waking Up Happy. It's no fun when Bug wakes up cranky, but when he wakes up happy the whole family enjoys it! His eyes are bright and he shows great love to everyone. When Bug wakes up in our bed (I need to do a "Please Research" post on co-sleeping!), he sits up, snuggles and babbles energetically. It is so refreshing. I cherish those moments immensely!

And, of course, The Funnies. This blog is dedicated to sharing the funnies of a mother's daily life. They truly make me smile; even the things that may be annoying (even the never ending poop stories). It is so much better to just laugh, grab the camera, and blog about it! Life is so much funnier as a mother!

Oh, I love being a mother. Is it hard? Yes. Is it a challenge? Yes. Is it frustrating? Yes. Can it be sweet? Yes. Is it the best calling on earth? YES!

Thursday, April 16, 2009

Eyes glued to the baby

Bug is walking around everywhere now. We are so proud and excited. There is just something so precious about a little baby walking! He looks too small still.

And not only is he walking. He climbs. On or into everything. EVERYTHING! His grocery cart walker toy (as mentioned in the last post), the couch, from the couch onto the end table, the coffee table, the glider, into his toy box, the dishwasher, the drawer under the stove...I could go on and on. Why, just last night, I nearly had a heart attack because of his adventurous spirit. I was making dinner, and I turned to look at Bug, to make sure he wasn't getting into trouble. Oh, he was definitely getting into trouble! He had used a box to climb up onto the little table where my sewing junk resides. He was standing on his feet and leaning over to grab yarn out of my yarn bag....on the table nearly 3 feet off the ground!!! I must admit, I let a great noise of surprise escape my lips! Bug looked over at me and gave a HUGE smile and bounced a couple of times on his little legs, and he continued reaching for the yarn while I leaped through the air to him in a single bound. He has no fear!

You would think I have learned to keep my eyes glued to the baby at all times. But what mother has that ability!? We hadn't been up for more than half an hour this morning, and Bug had already managed to find a pen and draw a nice soul patch on his chin. Pretty cute on a baby that isn't quite a year yet!

Tuesday, April 14, 2009


I suffer from IBS.

No, not that IBS. I suffer from Inferior Blog Syndrome. It is a lot more common than you probably think. Symptoms include red eyes (from staring at the computer screen too much, trying to think of something great to blog about), back aches (from sitting at the computer too long, trying to think of something great to blog about), head aches (from trying to think of something great to blog about), the irrational fear that your blog isn't worth reading (whether this is legitimate or a delusion is to be determined on an individual basis), frequent writer's block (due to the irrational fear) and the constant desire that something great will happen that you can blog about, almost to desperation (may be made manifest in simple sayings, such as, "I'm gonna blog about that!" to nearly every life event). Et cetera, et cetera.

My condition is such that I spend most some of my days begging my son to do something worth blogging about. Something funny. Something not depressing. Something not very negative. Something that won't dissuade Future Mama from having a Future Kiddo. And for goodness sake, PLEASE, something that DOESN'T have to do with poop or pee and my carpet!!!

Yet, my condition persists. Bug continues to ruin diaper-free time by harassing my carpet with all matter of foulness. (Which often necessitates turning on the bath water AGAIN just seconds after I got him dried off from his previous washing.)

He just seems so vile sometimes. He looks at me with suspicious innocence then takes a hit from his water-filled sippy cup. It seems as if he is intentionally trying to worsen my condition.

And when Bug actually does something that I feel like I can get a really good story out of (with minimal exaggeration) he SOMEHOW, SOMEWAY keeps me from writing it as eloquently as I so desire. So that when I reread the post that is supposed to bring in readers from near and far, it seems sad and deflated. I'm usually left to hold down the backspace key, muttering to myself, "This story is stoooopid. Was that even funny when it happened?! Nobody will think this is funny other than me and my husband. Or just me. Gosh, if the whole world had just been there, then they would think it was hilarious. But then they wouldn't want to read about it my blog, because they have already seen it..." You get the point.

And that's why I'm not even going to try to tell you about the other night, when Bug climbed up and into the cart on his shopping cart walker toy and sat there, perched, looking at mom and dad with the look on his face that said all of the following: Look what I did. Wow, I'm really high up here. Am I allowed to be here? Even if I'm not, here I am, so HA! I bet I can climb onto the coffee table from here. Oh, mom's starting to get worried. I know I'm such a daredevil. Oh, now mom is ordering dad to get me down. No, you stay there, I'll get down myself. Crud, how do I get down myself? Relax, it's ok. I figured it out. Oooohhh yeah....I'm gonna do that again when you're not looking!!!

Ok, I guess I will tell you. I can only lament that the camera batteries were dead.

Darn that IBS!

Thursday, April 9, 2009

Franken-baby or some sort of monster

My parents and little sisters were over this past Monday evening. Of course, that meant an evening of showing off for Bug. He was trying to walk all over the place. He has been "walking" since he was nine and a half months old, but he hasn't really started walking as his main mode of transportation. Recently, he is getting much better. And much braver. As he toddled around our apartment, arms outstretched for balance and a look of determination on his face, my dad joked that he looked like Frankenstein. That silly Poppy is always making fun of Bug!

More recently (code for yesterday and today) I have been tormented by some other sort of monster. I think Bug is teething. But, whatever it may be, has turned my sweet and hilarious baby into a weapon of severe torture. He has been "crying" (you know, that crying that isn't really crying, but whining in its highest form) NON-STOP. Only God's grace and protection has kept us both alive through this. My mom called to ask how things were going ('cause my wonderful hubby worries so much about me when Bug is cranky that he calls in a small army to back me up through the horrors of it). I told her what the Hubs had probably already relayed...that I'm only a fraction away from total insanity (what I am going to do when I have more kids!?!?). Then she asked if I needed anything. Hmmm....a shower? a nap? a tequila (or some Mormon version of one. I'm guessing that would be a huge chocolate bar)? *snap fingers* I've got it, bring me a tranquilizer.

Thursday, April 2, 2009

Uh, eeew.

*Warning: This post may be highly disturbing to those with a weak constitution.*

I am one of those people who think that all the best stories have to do with poop. As you may recall from my lame-o April Fool's day post, I have been in a blogging slump. This morning I learned, all you have to do is wait....and the good stories will come to you.

Every morning, Bug wakes slightly and has his morning dose of mother's milk while still in bed. Then, he usually sits up and starts laughing/growling/pulling my hair until I get up and out of bed. THEN, he has his morning poop.

Really, he doesn't have a morning poop every morning, but, in our family, we refer to it as "the morning poop". Now, "the morning poop" is usually very interesting. Usually, it includes little bits and pieces from what he has been eating lately. And, usually, there is a lot of it (because he has been storing it up -usually- from the morning before.)

Anyway...I try not to change his morning diaper until AFTER "the morning poop", because the poop comes pretty quickly after getting out of bed, and I don't want to change his diaper twice, one right after the other. (Maybe I should seriously start looking into elimination communication.)

Well, this morning, Bug and I get out of bed and do some morning stretches. I go pee. I pull on my nice, comfy, long-sleeved tee and I plop Bug down on a changing mat. I grab another diaper, and the wipes and open up the diaper. [Now, as a side note, Bug HATES diaper changes. He LOATHES them. DESPISES them.] Bug is trying to wiggle away from me. I am holding him down as best as I can. Then, like lightning, he grabs hold of the front of his diaper and PULLS IT STRAIGHT UP over his head. The weight of the diaper is pulling it down, and "the morning poop"........oh, this is horrible.........leaves a trail the whole way. It was everywhere, I tell you, EVERYWHERE. On his butt, in his crotch, on his belly, on his shirt, on his nose, on his forehead, and on my carpet. And, I think, a little in his mouth, too (emphasized by Bug sticking out his tongue and spitting). And because I'm a good mom, I made sure to get a picture:

So, this morning, I waited a little bit longer to eat my yummy, homemade cinnamon rolls, and I went straight to the bathroom to give the little guy a bath. With lots of soap.

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

No joke.

My husband called me this morning, as usual. Only this time he actually DIDN'T call at the exact time that I was trying to get Bug down for a nap. He told me he is having a rough day already (it was only a quarter after 9am). Some guy had a stroke on the bus this morning on the way into work. So, he had to get transferred to another bus to get to work. Oh, and the reason he called was to inquire of the location of a key. I'm guessing it is a very important key. It was on the floor, under our bed. After he sighed a sigh of relief (glad to know the key wasn't completely lost) he told me to write a funny post on the blog today. Oh dear. Cue the writer's block. And I promise, none of what I have typed here so far is an April Fool's joke. None of it. I promise. Really.

And then I realized it was April Fool's day. People are supposed to be funny on April Fool's day. That means that my expectations for a SUPER AWESOME and HILARIOUS post today have been raised 100 fold. And I have writer's block. And a baby hanging, whining and biting my leg. These are the things I blog about, right? Why isn't it funny right now? So, I pull out my "Mother's Lamentations" paper, where I keep a list of my labels and ideas for future posts (all good control freak bloggers do this, right?). I'm about to cross off all the ideas on my list. They aren't good. They aren't funny. Well, maybe they would be if my brain could formulate some sarcastic, witty way to exaggerate the truth. what. I guess my next reference would be Bug himself.

HOLY MACKEREL, BUG!!! He is sitting amidst a pile of CDs and DVDs. Any that aren't already out of place, are currently being violently flung out of place. The hole punch appears to have vomited on the floor (those little paper dots will be Bug's snack later today, I'm sure). And Bug is trying to eat the Juanes CD insert. My only picture of the Latin American Fabio, almost a casualty to baby slobber. Who next, Bug-a-boo, Josh Groban???

Well, here is an April Fool's day related lament, of sorts.

I remember one April Fool's day, my mom dyed our milk. And I couldn't drink it, because it bothered me to look at. I think one gallon was pink and the other was yellow. My mom liked to dye food. In our church, we have missionaries. Missionaries serve the church for two years. When they first come out, and for the first couple of months, they are called "Greenies". One time when we had a Greenie in our ward, my mom invited the missionaries over for dinner. We had our typical Sunday dinner...spaghetti. But, for the new guy, my mom dyed the spaghetti green. And the sauce. I don't know, but I'm pretty sure if you add green dye to red sauce, it just comes out looking gross. Really gross. Of course, we all ate it. And it tasted ok. But, the mind is a powerful thing. And that spaghetti looked gross. Really gross. Gross enough to send a missionary back home. No joke. In all honesty, we don't know if the "green" spaghetti really sent the guy back home, but he really did go back home shortly after the spaghetti incident.

Poor Mom.