The Happiest Place on Earth

As many of you may know, "The Happiest Place on Earth" is...Disneyworld!!! Is this true? No. But should I use this phrase to describe, for example, my ridiculously comfy bed with a good book and some chocolate sitting next to it, I have no doubt that I would be quickly set upon by Disney's trademark infringement lawyers. Setting the misleading advertising aside, (Florida was cold, I don't like being cold, ergo Disneyworld, being in Florida, is not the happiest place on earth) let me tell you about our trip.

We went to St. Augustine, billed as the oldest city in North America. It was very historical--the city includes the oldest fort, oldest house, oldest schoolhouse, etc. But did we visit any of these? No. We went to a chocolate factory instead. Our guide burst in singing "Come with me, and you'll be, in a world of pure imagination," etc., a la Willy Wonka, which is always a good sign that the chocolate tour will be good.

Chocolate Pretzel Machine

Also we got to wear hair nets.

We forgot to take them off after the tour and wandered around the gift shop for a little while with them on. Well, we are a good-looking family--we can pull off any look, right?

After St. Augustine, we went to Orlando. Austin landed us in the Waldorf Astoria, so it was a luxurious vacation.

This is the only picture we have of the room, but trust me, it was really fancy. I loved getting room service and made sure to get--wait for it--the Waldorf salad. We went swimming in the huge pool/lazy river, even though it was hovering around 50 outside (Austin made us!), and the breakfast buffet included an elaborately carved watermelon, so as you can tell, we were living in the lap of luxury.

As far as Disneyworld went, I made us get there before the park actually opened in the morning, so we were first in line to get in on our first day (Yes, I was a little excited). The crowds were slim because it was a chilly morning so we ended up completing most of my intensive 2 day touring plan in about 3 hours. We then went back to the Waldorf and took naps. It was awesome.

This is a picture of us after we sneaked into the park before it opened the second day. There was a line for people with breakfast reservations to go in early, and we had breakfast reservations (in Cinderella's Castle!) but they weren't for until a couple hours after the park opened. Should we have gone in? Well they didn't ask us what time our reservations were for and we breezed through the line. We wandered the empty streets of Disneyworld and gazed at the Saturday holiday crowds massing outside the ropes  until a uniformed man came up to us and asked if we had breakfast reservations. When we said yes, he asked what time they were for. Ummm....

It turns out, he was just checking to see if we had enough time to go meet the princesses! Since it was one thing I hadn't yet checked off my touring plan, we of course agreed and Sammy got to spend 10 minutes with Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, and Belle by herself, twirling around and soaking up the princess overload.

I feel that the moral of this story isn't what it could be, (Sneak into Disneyworld, get invited to do cool things!) but we all lived happily ever after, so it's still a good story. We probably won't go back to Disneyworld for a while, but it was definitely a magical vacation.

Costa Rica, Baby!

Ahhh, babyless in Costa Rica. Just Austin and me and wait...our two 17-year-old brothers! With two teenage guys along, this was an adventure-filled vacation. It was so fun that I didn't have a chance to regret that there wasn't a lot of soulful gazing into each other's eyes on the beach at sunset.

I got lots of pictures of the wildlife,

lots of pictures of Austin gazing off into the distance,

and lots of pictures of trees/jungle.

My favorite activity was the one I really didn't want to do at first...crawling through a water-filled cave.

I mostly didn't want to do it because of the spiders...and yet I ended up with this picture.

I think this was my favorite thing because it was not something you could do anywhere else...most caves I've been to in the U.S. have handrails and a uniformed guide and strategically placed lighting. At the Venado Caves we got to touch the wildlife and the cool formations, we each had a flashlight  and our un-uniformed guide just took off in the darkness and told us to follow him...in Spanish.

Costa Rica was beautiful...I'm so glad we went!

How to get to the LDS church in Quepos, Costa Rica

 This post is for anyone out there googling this, trying to figure out how to go to the Mormon church in Quepos.

[May 2015 Update: "Thanks to your blog post we were able to find the church in Quepos.  I work for the Church (in an unrelated department), so immediately upon return from my vacation, I made sure that the LDS Maps was corrected.  The Branch was begging me to do so. The site is now fixed."
--Thank you, Joel!]

We wanted to go on Sunday during our vacation but all the lds.org website said was that it was by a furniture store. (False). We asked locals throughout our stay there and no one knew where the church was...Saturday afternoon loomed and it was our last trip into town and our last chance before Sunday to figure out what time the LDS church in Quepos met and where it was located. Of course, I had been saying little prayers the past few days to just find this place already, and as we drove around the block in Quepos that Saturday afternoon, who should we see, but two very conspicuous Mormon missionaries! (I know, this sounds like it should be a story in the Ensign or something.)

Austin and I made our little brothers jump out and flag them down--the American missionary seemed pretty happy to hear someone speaking to him in English--and they walked us to the church because they said it would be too hard to tell us how to get there. Well, if you don't have a convenient missionary to walk you to the LDS church in Quepos, here are some directions as of August 2012:

"It is now on the main road coming in from Jaco/Pocares/Damas right on the edge of town. If you are traveling towards Quepos it is on the left hand side next to "Los Horcones" Hotel and Restaurant. It is across a little canal/river."

Church on the right in picture

Church still starts at 9:00, sacrament meeting is first. When we went it was the Primary Program which was really fun. We felt a good spirit and were glad we went!

Feel free to email me at e.a.sobczak@gmail.com if you have photos, anything to add to directions, etc.

Monster Post

I might not be posting for a little bit due to upcoming travels. (My house is fully equipped with a nerve-shattering alarm system, so don't try to camp out here while I'm gone.) Anyway, here are a lot of pictures for you to look at while you pine for more posts.

To kick off our Halloween festivities, Cici cast a spell of cuteness over us all...



We painted pumpkins instead of carving them this year. Is that a cop-out? It was a lot faster and a lot less work for me. Plus Sammy could actually participate. Note: must utilize bobbypins more while growing Sammy's hair out.

Sammy was a ghost for her preschool party. Costume #2 wasn't finished at this point. See below.

Costume #2 was begun when I had too much time on my hands, and promptly abandoned as more interesting projects came up. However, after some marathon sewing a couple days before Halloween, it turned out in time:

I really think my adorable toddler may have a future as a child model. She draws heavily on Derek Zoolander for inspiration.



Anyway...



Cici was a squirmy fairy...

And a wormy apple...(there was a little worm on her apple costume, fyi. It was, however, a cute worm.)

I was crafty and made skeleton cookies from ourbestbites.com. Sammy gave them demonic red eyes. Although I was crafty for my kids, I really wasn't crafty for myself in terms of finding a cool costume. I have nothing against adults and teenagers dressing up. I will freely give you candy if you come to my door, but only if you have a cool costume. If you're throwing on a wig just to get candy, may I advise you to go to Target the day after Halloween and spend 5 bucks on 50 percent off candy to save yourself the hassle. 

And if you wait another couple of days, it will be 75 percent off. Although the selection might be slim.

And with those words of wisdom, I will close mine epostle. Hasta luego!





I'm a Working Mother

On Friday we went to the insurance agent while the kids were at Mom's house to get our new coverage figured out. The insurance agent started going through some questions. "Do you work?" "No, I'm at home with our girls," I answered. Wait a minute. Back up. "Well, it is work," I muttered out loud...but we had moved on to other questions at that point. Our agent listed my occupation as "homemaker."

This was not really a big deal, but I think the way we talk about working and raising children has led to the devaluing of the amazing role a woman can play as the center of the home and creator and shaper of human beings.

These days, if a mom works and gets paid, she is said to "work." If a mom works (yes, all moms don't sit around and eat bon-bons while they watch soap operas, some work hard in pursuit of a happy family) and doesn't get paid, she "stays home." I don't mind the term "homemaker," because despite some negative connotations it's been given, it is one of the best descriptions of what I do. However, I do mind having to tell people I don't work to describe my job. How to remedy this without sounding obnoxious when I talk to people?

The Mystery of the Mysterious Money

Last week, my parents received a mysterious missive in the mail addressed to me--well, addressed to me under my maiden name, Anocha Herding.  It was a typed statement from a credit union in Illinois that I haven't had an account with since I was 12 years old, saying basically this:

DUE TO THE MEMBER STATUS OF CLOSED, THE TRANSACTION DESCRIBED BELOW WAS RETURNED.

Name of Company: DEPTOFEDUCATION
Amount of Item: 450.00
Status of Item: Returned

Question 1: Why is the Department of Education sending me money? Question 2: Why is it sending the money to my closed account? I knew that these would be hard questions to answer. But 450 dollars? Someone is trying to give me 450 dollars? Well for that amount I can make a few phone calls.

I called the credit union. After being put on hold, I found out that since my account is closed, they don't know anything about the statement they sent me. I called the U.S. Department of Education. After being put on hold and bounced around from department to department within the Department, I was informed that I had never had any student loans (wow, thank you for that info!) and that I didn't owe them any money. (Anona: No, I'm not trying to pay you, you're trying to pay me! Surely you must have a record of that!) I called the credit union again to find out who exactly sent me the money. (Could it be the Illinois Department of Education? Nope, it doesn't exist.)  I got put on hold and told by "Nicole" that she had to talk to the bookkeepers and that she would call me back. Ha. I wasn't born yesterday. This is called the "get rid of the weirdy" tactic. But lo and behold, I was called several times by this gal for various pieces of information and finally told that since my account is closed, they know nothing about who was trying to send me money.

I'm beginning to suspect that this was either A.) A cruel joke perpetuated by the bookkeepers at the credit union, or B.) A cruel joke perpetuated by the U.S. Department of Education. Good-bye, 450 dollars. I will never know who tried to send you to me. I wish I had never known about you because now I regret your loss. Your brief appearance in my life will forever remain a mystery.

Reposting

Just a link to a blog post about the whole Occupy Wall Street thingamajig, if you're interested. It's mildly profane and some of it made me think about tithing. Are you interested now?



http://marcywrites.com/2011/10/occupy-wall-street-is-the-dumbest-best-thing-ever-wait-what/

Driving Mr. Daisy

Today I read this in the BYU student newspaper police beat:

Oct. 7 Officers responded to a possible fight at the ITB. A couple was arguing about who would drive the car home. The woman was upset because her husband wanted her to drive. No crime was committed.

I had to laugh. What sort of man argues with wife over who's going to drive home? What sort of man would willingly abdicate the seat of power that men throughout the ages have claimed as their macho right? What sort of man would commit this heinous crime against manliness? I will tell you what sort of man would do this: my husband.

This newspaper blurb reminded me about a short period of time after we got married. Although early in our relationship Austin always drove because, hey, it was his car, soon after we got married we went through this phase where he would want me to drive him around while he lounged about in the passenger seat. He didn't care what people might think about his masculinity; he figured that the joy of being chauffeured about was worth it. For a while it was like we were in an ongoing episode of "Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous" with me featured as a lowly chauffeur who was constantly annoying her employee. Austin's lounginess was generally negated by the tensity brought on by watching my bad driving, so this idyllic period soon ended, I was fired, and I gratefully renewed my claim on the shotgun seat.

Last week Austin decided he would give his convenient chauffeur another chance. It didn't go too well. He's mellowed out with his passenger-seat driving tendencies, but I've grown more assertive in the seat of power, so the upshot of all this was that he ended up getting chauffeured to a pumpkin patch, which was not the ordered destination. I got my passenger seat back, (hurray!) but didn't foresee my quick demotion to pumpkin rearranger after the pumpkins started rolling around in the trunk. (darn.) However, I jumped out on the side of the road and bravely began hauling the dirt-encrusted pumpkins, thankful that Austin had picked the earthworms off before we put them in the car. I didn't even mind too much that my black shirt had now taken on a browner, dustier hue. At least I had my seat back.

You know, I think something about getting older makes you care less about appearances than you used to. Today I was out driving and saw an old guy shoot across the street right in front of me wearing roller skates and sporting ski poles. And just so he wouldn't be overlooked, he was also sporting a fluorescent yellow vest.

And speaking of overlooked, I just read an interesting article about some new technology that researchers are using to look through walls. Just thought I'd throw that in.

The Edge of the World

My blog is not really a travel blog or a mom blog or a cute blog. I'm not really sure what category my blogging falls under, actually. It's kind of a potluck blog. On the menu today: road trip!

Cici drives us to the edge of the world.

We look around...

We play in the dirt...

We look around some more...

And rest up on the way home...

So we can party!!!

The Joys of Planning Ahead

Well, I escaped the winter storms and am having a marvellous vacation with the family. (We'll pass over the little episode from this morning where I got locked in the playground with Sammy and Cici.)

When we went on family car trips when I was growing up, we would end up in some random town late at night, tired and grouchy from travelling, and we would stop at every hotel that looked promising so Dad could go in and ask how much it was. It always seemed to take fooooooreeeeeever. We kids of course, were rooting to stay in the most expensive hotel available, with its accompanying host of amenities, while my parents simply wanted to stay financially solvent with their 10 kids. We children would wait with bated breath to find out our fate for the night: Would we get one room or two? A pool, or no pool? A nice continental breakfast, or one with Tang and chocolate chip cookies from Albertsons? (And yes, I've stayed at places with those options.)

I know the Internet has probably (hopefully?) changed the way my parents find hotel rooms, but ever since I've been married, I've discovered the joys of planning ahead. I love that my husband makes plans and reservations and that we leave at a predetermined time and have a predetermined destination. Are we free-spirited travellers that embrace the road wherever it may take us? No. Do we embrace the place that we have told our GPS to take us, especially if it happens to be a fun resort hotel with 90 degree weather in October? Most definitely.

"Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! rage! blow!"

Earlier This Morning...

I'm currently reading a Shakespeare anthology--All of Shakespeare by Maurice Charney--and looking at whiteout conditions out my window. I'm trying to decide whether I should even try to go down the hill to take Sammy to preschool. At least Austin took the car that we put new brake pads on last night--I don't have to worry about whether we installed them right and whether or not I'll go careening out of control off the side of the mountain. Anyway, back to Shakespar, my book is not really an anthology, but more like a compendium of Shakespere's plays which makes for a quick read. It was during my college Shakspear class that I first knew that studying literature was my calling in life, and I've loved him ever since. Especially the fact that you can spell his name so many different ways and still be right.

So enough of talking about literature written hundreds of years ago in iambic pentameter. Shakesper aside, my other love is reserved for J Fiction books. A recent read I found that is easy to dive into, fun, and also at times insightful, is The Incorrigible Children of Ashton Place by Maryrose Wood. Whatever you end up reading, enjoy!

More Randomness, Please.

Birthday Fallout: So I went to the birthday party with Sammy. I think she had fun, which is the important thing, but now I am dealing with the fallout, which mostly involves policing a toy lightsaber and Austin wanting to join the foreign service so he can get a cool diplomatic passport. Say what?
 

GRE Joy:  I will neither go into that long story nor the story of why I just got done taking the GRE. If nothing else, it was a self-actualizing experience.  But I think I aced it. At least the verbal and writing sections. The math section bubble-marking went something like this:  A, B, C, D, A, B, C, D, etc. Good thing schools don't care about how good English grad students are at math. Anyway, if anyone wants tips for the writing section I came up with a pretty decent formula for success there. Also, I recommend having a Nana visit you and watch your kids so you can study.

Marshmallow Bed: Maybe due to the stress of test-taking, but our old bed was really bothering me. We bought a new bed that is super comfortable, but didn't realize how big it was going to look in our room. Not only is it a king, but it's like 4 feet high. I have to get a running start to get in bed at night.

Secret General Conference Fort: Where is the blanket from the bed, you might ask? Well it is being used for greater purposes. Many thanks to Kellie for the inspiration.

Super Cici: And somewhere in there, Cici has started walking! I know, this is a picture of her new hobby of playing in our shower, but much to my chagrin, I haven't actually got any photographic or video evidence of this new development.

That's all. Happy weekend!

A Few of my Favorite Things

Very Oprah-esque, I know! I was thinking about things I liked yesterday and made a little list. These are a few of my favorite things:

Peanut Butter Bars

I go in cycles of making these in great quantities. They just get better and better each day they sit.

Target Jeans

I have worn a lot of jeans from a wide variety of stores and in a wide price range. These are my new love though. The 3-5-7 sizing, (because I'm an in-between gal) the 1 % spandex to eliminate the awkward gap in back when you sit down for us skinny waist/bigger hips type, and the low, low price.

Online Dictionary

Remember when you were a kid and people made fun of you for mispronouncing big words? Well that's why I love this online dictionary. The layout isn't the cleanest, but by each word there is a button to listen to its pronounciation. I love looking up words that I've known for years but never used because I didn't quite know how to say them.

Spray Paint

I actually have a blister on my thumb from all the spray painting I've been doing this week. I am on quite the crafting kick and have come to appreciate the beauty of spray paint...the way it transforms things is like magic...I'm tempted to spray paint myself. Maybe I'll go open a window now...

My Husband

While I'm not bold enough to write scandalous blog posts  like my wild cousin or get all mushy-mushy, I will say I have the best husband! He might quite possibly be my favorite thing.









Farewell Owls!

We may meet again someday.

"I love being a turtle!"

Turtles in a half shell!

Now that the pain of my slip-n-slide burn is fading, I can finally bring you the Dirty Dash report:

Basically it can be summed up in the words of the announcer as he was mocking people who came to the Dirty Dash in "serious runner" mode. "If you ask me what my finishing time was I WILL PUNCH YOU IN THE FACE, because I don't care, and you shouldn't either!!!" (Rousing cheers from bejeweled, bedazzled, and becostumed crowd.) In the true spirit of Team Turtle, we walked most of the way, when we weren't doing this:

or this:

or this:

A great way to spend a Saturday!

p.s. Thank you Sara (a.k.a. Splinter) for your great team captain-ing! I think we all had a great time!

There is a great disturbance in the Force...

Today Sammy got done with preschool (she goes two days a week) and hopped into the car exclaiming happily about a card she had for me. I love to see her artwork so I happily took the card. Too late, I realized the magnitude of what I was holding--her first birthday party invitation.

If you think I forgot to put an exclamation mark at the end of that previous sentence, I didn't. I'm not sure how I feel about all this birthday madness starting so early. Do three-year-olds really feel the need to party a la Star Wars? But really, their age and the theme of the party is not the biggest issue: I would have to go and be social and buy a present and help supervise kids running around everywhere. I have always planned to strictly avoid hosting group parties for my children, but I thought the issue of going to other kids' parties wouldn't come up until kindergarten when I wouldn't have to go with Sammy. Can I tell my child that we have temporarily converted to Jehovah's Witnesses? Do I have to tell her anything? Would a Good Mom suck it up and attend the toddler birthday party?

What the H?

Today I got to participate in one of my favorite activities: calling my credit card company. (FYI: no this is not a picture of my card. This is an example of fake information that I plant throughout my blog.) Yes, next to calling insurance companies, calling my credit card company is a favorite midday activity for me, mostly because it keeps me humble, thus allowing me to better connect with the plebians that surround me.

Some examples: Once I called to ask them to cancel a card that had been missing for...I don't know, 5 or 6 months? Hey, I just wanted to make sure it was really lost. Another time I was Indian-accent-ed and fast-talked into signing up for some sort of card insurance thingy. (Note to self: If you're asked a bunch of questions that the answer to is "yes," don't just say "yes" to the next question if you can't understand it.) I had to call back and say that I didn't want the thing I said I just wanted. You see where this is going.

So today I called to cancel a credit card and couldn't remember the password on the account. My mystery question was "A favorite vacation place." For some reason, perhaps the accent and fast-talking, I thought the question was "A favorite vacation place you went to as a child." Uhhhh...my family didn't really do a "vacation place." Unless you count working on the farm in Wyoming.  Which I guessed, by the way. I got several helpful hints from the polite Indian man, who was probably repeatedly smacking his forehead in frustration. "It's a state." "It starts with the letter 'H.'" Anona: uuuhhhhhhmmmm. Gentle readers, do you know how many states start with the letter 'H?'"

One.

Yes, that's right. I don't think New Hampshire counts. After possibly injuring himself from the forehead smacking, the nice man passed me on to an even nicer lady, who also tried to get me to guess the password but quickly gave up and moved on to trying to get me to guess where I used the card back in April when I last used it. "It was in Murray." Anona: uuuuhhhmmm. "A tea shop in Murray." Anona: Hmm. That's odd. I don't drink tea. Are there any tea shops in Utah?  Was it a Thai place? I'm pretty sure it was Thai. Lady: "No, sorry."

So was I. But really, if I can't guess Hawaii then how am I supposed to remember my non-existant trip to a tea shop in Murray? Finally I was asked for my routing number. (Here, let me give it to you. 567834129) It took me a while to find the checkbook--I forgot where I put it--but my native intelligence triumphed in the end! We'll just ignore the part where I had to ask the nice lady which numbers on my check were the routing numbers.

Psycho-delic Owls

The owls....they're, they're staring at me! They're so cute and colorful, yet so creepy! So I've been having a few problems with my blog recently. I woke up one day, and something had happened to my font. I've been messing with it ever since, but haven't quite gotten it right.

I mean, the debate just between serif and sans-serif  (in French: feet, no feet) can be a lengthy one in and of itself. Serif makes for a faster read and includes comfortable old friends like Times New Roman. Sans-serif is crisp, clean-cut, easy on the design-attuned eye. I love you too, Calibri.  But where is the quirky yet straightforward font that falls somewhere in between? If it's too weak, I've tried the bold, no bold mix-up, and then there's getting the right size of font for people to take the whole thing seriously.

I thought a new layout might fix it, but I'm still not satisfied....favorite fonts, anyone?

Run, Forrest, Run!

Running. Ugh.

That has been my attitude for most of my life, probably because I'm not a very good runner. I just feel really awkward when I run, and I really don't like running outside because I feel like people are watching me. In college I went to the gym almost every night and would run a mile or two as part of my workout, but that was just a sacrifice to look good for the men.  I've philosophized that running has become very trendy in the last little while because it is a physical manifestation of how we fill our lives with things to do but never actually accomplish anything important...you know, we are running in circles with no particular destination, but feeling good about ourselves while we are doing it. You think I'm overthinking this? I understand people who run to get in shape. I like that cool feeling when you get off the treadmill and start walking but can't feel your legs. I understand people who run to get away from life for a little while. But I really don't understand people who run for fun.

I personally would be fine the rest of my life to just walk fast to where I need to go, but I'm committed to do the Dirty Dash 5k with my friend Sara next Saturday. It looks like a lot of fun, but I have felt like I should do some sort of training for it, so I've been pushing a double stroller all over God's green hills and running a little bit in the park when it is empty. Last night I decided to go to our community center and run on the treadmill to see how long it would actually take me to complete a 3.125 mile run. Well, I only went 3 miles, (My face gets really red when I run--yet another reason to walk--and the two very fit ladies on the ellipticals behind me were starting to look concerned) and that was with me walking fast a lot and running a little. It took me 40 minutes. Not stellar, people.  Is it lame to dream of someday running a 10-minute mile? I think if you're so bad that that's your goal, you should just stick to walking fast. Which I fully intend to do, right after next Saturday.

I didn't get the memo...

Austin and I stayed in Coeur d'Alene and Seattle for a couple months when Sammy was a year and a half old. In Seattle we stayed close to the Children's Museum, so I got a membership and strollered over there every day. It was fun, but I felt a little out of it as I observed the other moms. Maybe it was because I lived in the backwater state of Montana, but I seemed to have missed the memo that we mothers with small kids have to show a significant amount of cleavage and sport a nose stud to prove (however desperately) that we are still cool and sexy, even though we are at a children's museum in the middle of the morning.

Unfortunately for me, I didn't pack my push-up bra and my husband has forbidden me from ever getting a nose stud. He thinks they're gross. (And I think they have the unfortunate tedancy to look like large zits.) Anyway, I realized I just was not ever going to fit in when a bunch of people at the museum started exclaiming over a little kid's outfit and how cute and amazing it was. This kid was completely dressed in white, people. Not only is it completely impractical when it comes to keeping the kid clean, it's gender neutral (hence your child gets called "kid") and could potentially lead to some sort of Jesus complex down the line.

So here I am. My kids don't wear white. I don't sport cleavage, especially in January in Seattle. I don't like to pick my nose every time I put my jewelry on for the day. But you know what? I think the world has enough moms who got the cool and sexy memo. Add me to the nerd list, because that's where I belong.