So a few months ago I came home to find a package in the mailbox. I opened it and found these tiny shoes.

My little sister Emily knew that Jen and I wore these nerd shoes so she sent us a pair in the event that we ever succeeded in conceiving a child. Little did Emily know that Jen was probably 2 weeks pregnant at the time. She is now at 11 weeks and doing well. We heard a heartbeat on the little Fisher-Price microphone at the doctors and Jen keeps looking in the mirror asking if she looks fat. Yeah right like I'm gonna answer that one.

Happy Halloween

Here's our little Daisy "Bee"

Doing tricks for treats.

My pumpkin. . . . for those of you that don't know it's Franken Berry.

Happy late Halloween ya'll.

Who is Steve Young?

You all might think that my blog revolves around BYU football. . . .maybe it does. . . but this is just too good not to post.

On Saturday Joseph and I attended the BYU football game (bad game, so don't ask). As we sat in our regular seats I found myself listening to the couple sitting next to me. Obviously they were on a date due to the semi awkward conversation, I'm going to guess a first date based on the distance between the two of them. He patiently explained the rules of the game tapping me on the shoulder from time to time to ask. . . "now BYU is in the white correct?" and "who is that #10 out there?" Because he is a man I assume he knows the rules of football, however he was not up to date on the players, so must not watch too much football. His date on the other hand had probably never seen a football before in her life. His explanation of the rules went on and on throughout the game and then I noticed the conversation changing. He started telling his date who the famous BYU football players were. . . .Jim McMahon . . .Ty Detmer. . . John Beck. She sat there totally perplexed, apparently she had never heard these names before. And then he mentioned Steve Young, where upon she said "Oh he played football for BYU?"

I'm sorry, are you serious? How can you go to BYU and not know who Steve Young is? What have your parents been teaching you at home? In my home we were taught early about BYU football. My dad would sing us the Cougar fight song as a lullaby. Posters of BYU sports plastered our bedroom walls. Steve Young's picture is next to our family picture and the picture of the prophet. I was in shock at her lack of knowledge. . . I guess that's why she came to college though. . . to learn about BYU football.

BYU vs FSU

This last weekend we journeyed across the country to watch our Cougars take on the Florida State Seminoles. I figure pictures tell a thousand words (be aware that they are a bit out of order), enjoy!

Here we are on our red eye flight to Panama City. . . TJ and I are excited. . . Joseph looks likes he's been crying. . . . he claims it was allergies. . . . I think he was sad to be leaving our dog.

The beautiful beach in Panama city. . . there was no one on the beach and the water was warm and clear with little fishes that would gather around your feet and nibble on your toes. They boys liked the fishes. . . I was not a fan and jogged in place the whole time I was in the water. I might have even stepped on one in my nervousness.

On our way home we decided we had better stop at a Waffle House to see what it was all about. We learned a few important things while dining there. . . 1) Homemade grits are much better than Waffle House grits, 2) It's probably better if you can't see your chef while he's frying up your bacon and eggs, 3) Underwear is an option in the South.

Here is a picture of the band before the game. There are spelling FSU if you can't tell and the S has arrows coming off the end.

Up close while the team is warming up.


Can't get a picture of the team and not get a picture of Jake Heaps, I'm not sure what he's doing with his hand. . . I'm going to go ahead and assume it's his follow through from throwing the football. And the guy next to him. . . well it's probably hard to come by a tissue on the field.

Getting ready for the game to start. . . getting pretty excited.

Joseph standing in front of the football stadium.

And you can't come to FSU with out stopping by the statue of Bobby Bowden the FSU legend.

Goodbye FSU!

Our trip ended much to soon. On our way back to the airport in Panama City we got lost and passed through a beautiful city called Destin. . . . we might have to plan another trip to Florida with or without football.

Sad

It's sad when all of your neighbors know your dog's name and not yours. When I step outside I hear little voices yelling "Dumpster Daisy." Half of the people who ring the door bell ask if Dumpster Daisy can play. . . . well I can play. . . . do you want me?

True Generosity

Since Joseph won't share this story I will. . . As many of you know Joseph drives a scooter. It gets great gas mileage and only costs a few bucks to fill up. However Joseph tries to stretch the gas as far as it can go even when the gas light comes on. So as you might guess he ran out of gas last week. He sat on the side of the road with his cell phone out calling everyone and anyone he could think of to bring him a little bit of gas. He sat there for at least 10 minutes as car after car drove by without any regard to his situation. Finally a man stopped on his small motorcycle to see what Joseph was having trouble with. Joseph explained his situation and that he just needed a small amount of gas in order to get to the gas station a few miles away. "I live just down the street," the man said. "I'll be back with a gas can in a few minutes." Joseph waited patiently as still more and more cars drove on by without so much as asking if he needed help. The man returned shortly with no gas can. He got off his bike with some tubing in his hand and explained that he couldn't find his gas can so he'd siphoned gas out of his lawn mower into his bike and then proceeded to siphon gas from his bike into Joseph's scooter. I'm amazed at the trouble this man went through to get Joseph the little bit of gas he needed to get to the gas station.

On a totally different note. Daisy loves to have her teeth brush. As a hygienist I don't think I could have asked for a better dog!

Orrin Porter Rockwell

So I finally have something worth blogging about. I did a report on Orrin Porter Rockwell last semester for a history class and by the time I was done I wished that I WAS Porter Rockwell. Well, fortune has recently smiled on my dreams. Rockwell had a little white dog what rode on the back of his horse just behind the saddle and was trained to lick his face in case of an intruder. It just so happens that I have recently aquired just such a little dog...

And a horse...

I have had some really good ideas in my day but this is going to be the best EVER. I'll keep everybody posted on how the training goes.

Dumpster Daisy

My litter sister found this left in a kennel next to the dumpster at her place of employment. Joseph and I are trying to decide if we should keep it or pass it on to someone else. What do you think?


The vet thinks she's just under a year old and is most likely half yorkie half shitzu. Kinda cute, right?

Joseph's New Ride

Can't get enough of these Jiapers

Check out their add. . . "the coolest you'll look pooping your pants."

www.huggies.com/en-US/promotions/jeans?WT.mc_id=HGG&WT.srch=1

Jiapers

Introducing the jean diaper. . . otherwise known as the Jiaper. A couple of weeks ago my little brother was talking about Jorts (Jean shorts) and we started coming up with all of the funny things that could be made out of jeans. During this dinner conversation my father suggested jiapers. Hilarious! And what to my surprise but Huggies has come out with a limited edition product called the "Little Movers Jean Diaper." Can it be true? Jiapers in the flesh? My family has laughed and laughed about this product and you better believe I'm on my way to Walmart to pick up a package for my very unborn child. Because as their adds states" when you have to go, go in style." I want my baby some day to "make a little fashion statement" with their sweet jiapers. But with this great summer fashion statement what's next? Jepends?

Good Advice

So I'm officially a dental hygienist. . . and I just love the things my patients tell me. For example, I was cleaning this man's teeth on Thursday who had just been in the week before to have one of his teeth put back in his mouth. You see it had gotten loose and he had wiggled it out. Now I'm sure you're thinking oh this little 5 year old missed his little baby tooth. Well this man was not 5 he was more like 55. And don't worry it was definitely one of his two front teeth. Perfect. Well the dentist fastened it securely back into place and he came in to get his teeth cleaned. As he's laying there at my disposal he begins to tell me that people are afraid of the dentist because they wait so long to get stuff taken care of that they have to have major work done. In his opinion if people would just come in every six months to get their teeth clean the dentist could find cavities when they are small and people's hatred for the dentist would decrease. Ok, thanks sir, I'll be sure to let my patients know about this wisdom you've imparted. . . what this coming from a man with half of his teeth having been pulled from rotting away and large cavities on almost every remaining tooth left in his mouth. Great advice.

One other funny note. I had another patient a young man about 22 come in and when he came back to have some fillings done told one of the assistants that "the girl who cleans teeth is pretty nice, but she was totally flirting with me and I know she's married. . . so that's a little weird." Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. I never knew I was so flirtatious. Especially with boys my little brother's age.

Why?

Why do I always want what I can't have? And why do I wish that I was back in school now that I'm finally done? Maybe I'm having withdrawals from the 13 girls I spent almost everyday of the last two years with.

(Sorry that you're missing Carly. . . I need a copy of everyone together! Oh and don't mind the tassel hanging in my eye . . .it's a fashion statement)

Dental Hygiene girls I miss you like crazy. . . what do you say we all go back to school (for free) for another year? No? Ok. I guess I have to finally be a grown up and do grown up stuff like work. But on a happy note I was offered a job today!! Now I just have to wait for my license and I'll be all set.

3 Years and Graduation #2

For our anniversary this year we sat in our pj's and anxiously awaited my last board exam the next day. And in the words of one of my classmates, "nailed it!" The next day was my second graduation. . . hooray for an associates!! Now I need to find a job and start making us some serious money! Happy 3 years Joseph, maybe next year we'll be able to afford an night on the town!

Spring

I'm so happy it's spring. . . but I'm even happier that tomorrow at this time I will have finished my national board exam. Kinda scary! Wish me luck.

Oh yeah here is a picture of some of the tulips from my yard. . . sigh. . . I love spring.

Germaphobe

Have I become a germaphobe? Maybe. . . but am I justified? I do believe so. I went to a local grocery store with my mom and little sister on Saturday and watched as the lady slicing the meat in the deli talked on her phone with her gloves on. . . . scratched her face with her gloves on. . . adjusted her apron with her gloves on . . . and then proceeded to slice meat with her same gloves on. I might have even noticed that the pinky finger had torn through. Now let me ask. . . . are you serious? That is disgusting!! We might have stopped at customer service to complain about our disgust.

Update on the lice: I didn't contract it. Lucky me!!

My Good Deed

Joseph and I have been working with a less active family in our ward and their little 8 year old girl has really taken to us. She rang our doorbell about 5 times this morning so we invited her in for breakfast. After breakfast I invited her to come and do her hair with me (she is a little bit dirty - like dirt on her hands and face). We tried combing out her rats nest hair and decided it needed a little bit of conditioner. So I washed her hair over the tub and as I was combing out her wet tangled hair I noticed a few little bugs near her scalp. . . . LICE!!! Run for cover!! (Disinfect everything. . . or throw everything out. . . or move. . .I can't decide which) I finished doing her hair and politely asked if she had ever had lice of which she replied no. Then I quickly sent her on her way and disinfected my combs and hands as quickly as I could. GROSS!! I've been paranoid all day that I've somehow contracted lice and I'm itching all over. . .I've never had lice before and the thought of it makes my skin crawl. My good deed in helping my little friend comb her hair out for the first time in months has now turned into my worst nightmare. I thought I would kill the lice even if I don't have them but the pharmacist strongly suggested not placing the insecticide (lice treatment) on my scalp with out the bugs. So now I just sit and wait and have Joseph pick through my hair every five minutes like two monkeys sitting in a tree. . . well enough from me I need to go shower again!

Multi-tasking

Jogged to the store to buy some hamburger for dinner. . . burned calories. . . .bought groceries. . .worked out my biceps (holding the 2 lb hamburger logs in each hand) . . .got rid of my anger. . .cleared my head. . .who says people are incapable of multitasking?

My Mountain Man

While most people were relaxing over spring break Joseph was beaver trapping. Beaver trapping? Really? Who does that? Well Joseph does. In fact he's gotten really into the whole mountain man thing and we are going to the Rendezvous in a couple of weeks. Here is Joseph in some authentic mountain man garb.

As for me . . . I spent all day Thursday taking my first series of board exams - ANESTHESIA. . . and I PASSED (only 2 more to go)!! This was extra exciting due to the fact the the patient I was going to inject ended up getting trismus (very painful jaw muscle problem) and I had to use my mom at the last minute without ever having practiced on her. I might have been a little nervous. . . and a little shaky. . . so thank you mom for being willing and brave!

What happens in Vegas. . .

This weekend I had the privilege of going to the MWC basketball tournament in Las Vegas with Joseph, my older brother, and my dad. . . .that's right a boys trip. Somehow I always find myself on these "boys" trips. They are pretty fun, but there's so much testosterone I find myself booing the refs and getting back in touch with my really competitive athletic side (most people should not see this side of me. . .it can be scary). This trip was pretty interesting. We got to the BYU game like 4 hours early and bought our tickets and waited outside with the New Mexico and San Diego State fans to get into the arena early. Our tickets were good for two games so we decided that we'd stay for the game before BYU's to see who they'd be playing in the final game. We took our seats and waited for tip off. About 4 rows in front of us this Lobo (New Mexico) fan was standing waving his arms spilling beer all over himself. It was clear this wasn't his first drink of the night. He proceeded to mumble incoherent Lobo cheers trying to get his fellow Lobo fans to cheer along with him. We laughed at this man thinking how we were so glad that we were a few rows behind him. As the game began this fan moved from row to row in our section sitting on the stairs annoying everyone in earshot. People would ignore him and he would move on to the next. Soon he was sitting in the aisle next to my father who paid him a tiny bit of attention. . . and he made himself comfortable on the concrete steps next to us. . . for the next 2 hours of our lives.
He'd stand and cheer every now and again and try to get us to cheer with him, we would laugh and shake our heads and he would laugh and tell us "you're killing me." At about half time he rose to his feet gave each of us a high five and fist bump at least five times a piece and eventually made his way down the stairs much to our relief. As he walked away we quickly used some hand sanitizer and Joseph mentioned that he'd bet money that his guy thought that the game was over. Sure enough not 5 minutes into the second half he was back with another beer in hand mumbling how he had thought that the game was over. Once again he made himself comfortable on the cement stairs next to us and yelled and cheered and tried to get us to cheer along with him. My dad threatened to make him leave if he spilled his beer on him and the man took extra care not to do so. What a guy. I sure do love fans from other schools. . . especially drunk ones.
Speaking of other fans. . . UNLV beat BYU (it was a terrible game) and after the buzzer sounded at the end of the game UNLV fans shouted at us to "*&^% BYU" and "Not in our house." Thank you UNLV fans for letting us know where you live. . . now we'll know where to send our hate mail. And oh wait, pretty sure you lost the next night "in your house" That's weird!! Thank you San Diego State for desecrating their house.

I Heart Cilantro

If someone were to ask me what my favorite herb is I would not hesitate to say Cilantro. It's beautiful, and so so tasty. It adds color and yummy goodness to any dish. Recently I decided to add it to twice baked potatoes and it was a dish to die for. Here is the recipe:

Bake 5 medium potatoes (word for the wise - poke with a fork and wrap in tin foil, do not stab with a knife or the peels won't work very well later)

Meanwhile Saute:

2 Tbsp butter

1 C sliced mushrooms

1/4 C diced red onions

3 cloves minced garlic

Cilantro to taste (I put in almost 1/4 of a bunch, but you can choose how much you want)

Once the potatoes are baked unwrap and discard the foil. Cut each potato in half length wise, scoop out the middle and place in a large bowl. Make sure you leave a thin layer of potato inside the peel so you don't break the peel into pieces. Place scraped potato skins in a greased 9x13 baking dish. Once all of the potatoes are scraped out, mix 1/2 cup sour cream and a dab (I used maybe 2 Tbsp) of milk (to your desired creaminess) to the potato middles and mash. Once mashed mix in the sauteed veggies and some cheddar cheese (I think I used about 1/2 C). You may also want to add a dash of salt and pepper at this point. Mix together well, then scoop mixture back into the potato shells. Place back in the oven uncovered for 15-20 min. or until the potatoes are warm all the way through. I broiled mine for the last few minutes to brown up the tops. Eat and Enjoy!!

These potatoes are so yummy that we've had them the past 2 Sundays. Love them, love how the Cilantro gives them a good kick. If you like this recipe you are sure to love the Cilantro Paprika steak we make. . .

Phobia

Phobia. . . what is a phobia anyway. According to dictionary.com a phobia is "a persistent, irrational fear of a specific object, activity, or situation that leads to a compelling desire to avoid it." This last week was an interesting one at best full of what some might call phobias.

First of all I turned 24 which is an age I never thought I would actually be and made me think of all the things I thought that I would have done by this age (definitely something to reflect on later). 24. . . Freaky deaky!

Second I found a board patient for my clinical board exam in April (such a relief and she is PERFECT). I won't even try to explain what you look for in a board patient because no one will know what I'm talking about. You have to spend hours upon hours in a dental office doing calculus detection to understand. In this case a phobia overcome.

Third (and this is where it gets really juicy) I have my anesthesia board exam in less than 2 weeks. After some stress endured by a fellow student over board patients for our exam I gracefully (and don't forget that) volunteered Joseph to be my patient. The anesthesia board exam is quite simple. You give 2 shots in 2 different spots in the mouth while some examiners watch your form and skill. Simple enough right? I thought so. . . .well I called Joseph to ask if he would be so kind as to be my patient (keep in mind he had volunteered a few days before) well he said yes. Now looking back I don't know if he was really willing or was just trying to be kind seeing that it was my day of birth, but he came early to pick me up so I could practice on him.

He joked around with some fellow students and instructors in the waiting room while I set up the chair. Then he came back and I placed topical anesthetic in the appropriate spots. Now I need to make a disclaimer here. . . I am a great anesthetist! I am gentle and kind and I do a good job. Back to the story. After a few minutes I removed the topical and picked up my syringe. Shot #1 - success!! Second practice of shot #1 - success. Now on to shot #2 - first attempt - I hit bone. As I'm explaining this to my instructor Joseph claims to have been imagining people grinding piano keys out of bones (weird, but ok). I pulled the needle out to try again. . . second insertion was a success until Joseph blurts out that he is about to BLACK OUT. I quickly removed the needle and watched as he seized and blacked out. Everyone started to panic. People were yelling for the doctor, someone ran to grab the oxygen tank, and everyone backed away. . . but me, I quietly mumbled to myself, "Oh, he does this when he passes out." And this is true. Remember when Joseph got his tonsils out and passed out after the IV? Well I certainly do. He came to seconds later and regained the color in his face. He was fine!! But is Joseph really that afraid of needles? Does he have a real live phobia? Maybe so, but if he does why did he say he'd be my patient?

He won't be my patient, don't you worry. In fact I will never give him a shot again. . . even if he needs it.

Note to Self

Do not EVER wash your plastic shower curtain in the washing machine. It may smell good when it comes out, but the tiny tears in the plastic make showering a big mess.

Do not EVER make 2 cakes for your and your husband. It will make you hate yourself, and you'll have to wear your fat pants until both cakes are gone.

Cats

What is it with cats and shedding? It's disgusting. As I've rollered my clothes every morning in preparation to leave the house I've thought to myself. . . "how nasty would it be to have you mouth open while your hygienist leans over it with cat hair ready to jump from her sleeve into your wide open mouth. . . " Yuck, just the thought makes me sick. The cat has now been banished to the basement, the house has been dusted and thoroughly vacuumed. Sorry cat, the thought of cat hair in my patients mouths was just too much to handle (although you are a good and very cute cat).

Frankenbumper

As some may know we were hit in Logan canyon on New Years Eve by a lovely California couple who had little experience driving in the snow. I will not recount the happenings due to bitter feelings towards the driver and Allstate (won't ever be insured by them, just thought I'd put it out there). However I do want to say kudos to my bro-in-law and his handy work. Here is a picture of our $1300 damage fixed with a mere $40.

Good on you bro. Frankenbumper looks great and drives great. Also good job Joseph for being the good little brother and holding the light and handing the tools. You both are great.

On a totally different note. . . our landlord brought some men over from our ward last Saturday to move the shed from our driveway to the driveway on the other side of the house. They jacked it up onto a trailer thing and moved it with a 4-wheeler. It was a spectacular sight worthy of being on the Discovery Channel or something. I wish I had pictures. Under the shed we found this:

How disgusting!! That is a huge hornets nest . . . it makes my foot look so tiny.

Violated

After a great lesson on not being angry and choosing to take the higher road Joseph and I walked out to our car to find our jockey box and our change drawer open. Someone had forgotten to lock the doors and someone else had rifled through the stuff in our car. My response: Lets just add to the anger I feel from being told not to be angry in Relief Society. I was already in a foul mood having been asked at church by my ward mission leader if I had fulfilled the assignment he had given me yesterday. No, I was too busy making sure that he wasn't having a heart attack to have read his mind as he was blacking out. Luckily nothing was in our car of value but a mere 80 cents, but I do feel violated and I have decided to take the lesser road and be angry all day.

Such a Strange Saturday Morning

So Jen and I have been ward missionaries for a few months now but have yet to actually DO anything with our calling. This is not because of any personnel shortcoming but because one ward leader was released and another was called so we have been trying to get into the swing of things. We received a phone call from the new ward mission leader, Brother Nameless an 80+ year old man, who wanted to meet us and have a meeting about how to proceed with our callings. We went over to his house today to have said meeting. We met his wife who had a stroke a while back and is very friendly but cannot form words. Her mind appears to be sharp but her faculties are lacking. We got into the small talk and looked at some super cool old pictures of their ancestors and when we ran out of things to talk about we got down to business. As we sat at the kitchen table he informed us that he had suffered the entire night with tendinitis in his right shoulder. As we sat there discussing ward missionary work we noticed that he began to sweat a bit around the hairline. He then began to look paler and apologized for a few momentary mental lapses. He then mumbled something about feeling a bit nauseous and stopped speaking all together. When he began to sway in his chair Jen and I jumped to our feet and kept him from falling over. He then regained some semblance of sentience and said he would like to be taken to his room. We got him to his feet and began shuffling to his room when he started to go down again. We stopped and asked him if he would like to sit in a nearby chair but he simply shook his head and said, "bed." We finally made it all the way to his room where we laid him in his bed. We then went to check on his wife who was crying and all out of sorts with worry about her husband. As we assured her that he would be OK I heard him calling my name from the adjoining room. I went in his room to find him feeling just barely well enough to talk upon which he asked me to put a movie in for his wife. As I was leaving the room he stopped me by calling my name. I paused in the doorway and he said in a halting voice, "Brother Watson...thank you so much... for helping me and my wife...you should probably...do something about...your fly." I looked down at my pants to see that my zipper was wide open. From one man to another even one who looks moribund we understood the importance of zipper protocol. I thanked him profusely and went back into Sister Nameless' room to find her frustrated and yelling unintelligibly at Jen who could not figure out how to work the television to get the movie going. We bumbled around for a bit trying to figure the blasted thing out with a constant barrage of indecipherable instructions at our backs. I finally went to the expert who lay dying in the next bedroom. I woke him up and copiously apologizing for my incompetence asked him how to work the television. After a lethargic tutorial I went back and saved the day. We left after that hoping that leaving the scene would not cause us to be arrested for negligence. We'll go back this afternoon to see if everything is alright.

WREB

What is WREB you ask. Well it's a "national dental and dental hygiene testing agency." They are in charge of the greater part of my board exams at the end of this semester. And the picture above? Those are the documents WREB sent me for one of my exams, for me to take special care of and produce in March on my exam date. Why are they torn in half you might ask. I'll tell you.

Yesterday I sat frustrated in clinic trying to scrap off a piece of the most tenacious calculus I've ever tried to conquer when I heard whispered in my ear, "your cute husband is here and he needs to show you something." My first thought. . . . WHY is Joseph here? What ever he has to show me cannot be good. I'm thinking: did he get into a wreck? Are his reffing pants melted? Did he cut off a limb? Did our house burn down? Reluctantly I excused myself from my patient and met Joseph out in the waiting room. He stood there timidly, his shoulders slumped holding the papers shown above. "What's that?" I asked. "I'm sorry," was his reply, "I didn't mean to!" As I got closer I realized what it was. . . . the confirmation papers for the exams that I just paid a couple of thousands of dollars for. Included were two papers to keep and produce on the date of my exam.

Upon further explanation Joseph had thought that the large manilla envelope addressed to ME with the return address of WREB in the upper left hand corner was actually a book that he ordered online. Instead of opening the envelope like a civilized person he tore the top third off including the precious papers located inside. Upon his discovery that he had torn my very important papers he drove directly to the school to show me. I must give him props because he had everyone in the clinic laughing that he would come in scared out of his mind to show me right away. He also chose wisely in displaying his offense in a public setting or he might not be walking today.

I've pieced the papers back together, but with a profession based on professionalism I cannot present taped papers at my board exam. So I'm off to the copy stores to find the perfect shades of pink and purple to make copies on.

Lessons to be learned from this: 1- Don't open mail that doesn't have your name on it. 2- Tearing envelopes down the middle will almost always tear the contents inside. 3 - If you ever ruin something that belongs to someone else, reveal the damage in a public setting so as to avoid being beaten.