I don't think this will be a very long post. But I did want to say how much I've loved having a theme for the month of February. I don't know that what I've written in the last 17 posts have changed the world, but, since those are the things that make up my world, well, they have made me happy. If you look at my history, I haven't had a month where I've written 18 posts in years. Yay me.
I am really, really glad February is over. I am glad that my busy time at work is almost over. I am ready for spring and my bulbs to come up. Speaking of bulbs - one February Friday I planted about 20 bulbs in my front flower bed. I doubt there's ever been a year that I could A - stand to be outside long enough to plant bulbs; or B - been able to get in the ground with a shovel since the ground never froze. I am anxious to see them come up. My dear friend Shelly gave them to me last September as a little gift after my dad died. I think that the resultant flowers will remind me of both my dad and my friend. I'm also wanting to see the adorable miniature daffodils that came up last year. Last year they were new friends, this year they will be old ones.
Thanks to you for coming around and reading these posts. It was fun to see my stats go up, funny how that happens when I actually write something. It's actually just felt good to write, to have to think about how to say something that is in my head. I loved Britt's post about writing and how it relates to thinking. Brilliant. I love the process of putting words down.
Now I'm rambling. I hope I do a repeat next February. Maybe I'll even try to post more throughout this year. We'll see how that works out.
Happy leap-day! I'm out.
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Monday, February 27, 2012
February love 17
I've somehow obtained a 10-year-old. I mean, he's always been here, as he is my firstborn, but he's all of a sudden big and, well, not little. I remember wanting a baby, not a boy scout. Where have the past 10 years gone?
All kidding aside, I can't believe how big Thomas is getting. I went to pick him up the other day from his karate sparring class. I kept mistaking him for another kid, because that kid matched the height that I imaged Thomas to be. The real Thomas, the one that was actually mine, was tall and looked like a big kid. It kind of punched me in the gut that he isn't the 2nd or 3rd grader that I imagine him to be.
I love it though. One of my favorite things is mentioning something to him - like the candidates running for the republican party nomination - and I'm not really teaching him anything. He rattled off a few of them, "oh, yeah, there is a kind of youngish one, isn't there? And then another guy, and one with white hair?" How does he know this stuff? I find him teaching me things about circuits - which he built in both scouts and school in the same week - and the civil war and current events that I never imagined would be on his radar. He even had his maturation program at school a few weeks ago (it kind of freaked me out the stuff that they talked about, that he definitely knows now about sex and the possibility that his parents have done it. He even said to Shane that night: "Wow, you two must have had to be really careful and stuff when you were trying to have Ben." I laughed because I thought that maybe he thought we had never done it again after Ben - but Shane assured me he knows that we do. I don't know which is worse.) (Ick. Sorry to state to the world these bare facts - mom, my dear sweet mother-in-law, nieces - you can skip the last paragraph, mmmkay?)
I love talking about books with him. I love watching him zip through a book in a few days. I like him knowing things and having opinions. I like teaching him stuff about life and church and science and current events and even sex. The moments like we had a few weeks ago when Ben was making an obnoxious noise on the floor and Thomas said to me, "Did I ever do that" and when I assured him he had, and does, he said, "Wow, I'm sorry!" and laughed. How awesome is that! To see him growing up is such a wonderful thing. Sure I sometimes wish I could have him revert to a little baby just for a few hours - I'd love to hold that sweet weight in my arms again, to play with his baby-soft sideburns and smell that baby scent of him - but it isn't going to happen, and that's okay. We have so much future ahead of us to learn about each other and life and us as a family - how awesome. I love it and I love him and am so glad he picked me to be his mom.
All kidding aside, I can't believe how big Thomas is getting. I went to pick him up the other day from his karate sparring class. I kept mistaking him for another kid, because that kid matched the height that I imaged Thomas to be. The real Thomas, the one that was actually mine, was tall and looked like a big kid. It kind of punched me in the gut that he isn't the 2nd or 3rd grader that I imagine him to be.
I love it though. One of my favorite things is mentioning something to him - like the candidates running for the republican party nomination - and I'm not really teaching him anything. He rattled off a few of them, "oh, yeah, there is a kind of youngish one, isn't there? And then another guy, and one with white hair?" How does he know this stuff? I find him teaching me things about circuits - which he built in both scouts and school in the same week - and the civil war and current events that I never imagined would be on his radar. He even had his maturation program at school a few weeks ago (it kind of freaked me out the stuff that they talked about, that he definitely knows now about sex and the possibility that his parents have done it. He even said to Shane that night: "Wow, you two must have had to be really careful and stuff when you were trying to have Ben." I laughed because I thought that maybe he thought we had never done it again after Ben - but Shane assured me he knows that we do. I don't know which is worse.) (Ick. Sorry to state to the world these bare facts - mom, my dear sweet mother-in-law, nieces - you can skip the last paragraph, mmmkay?)
I love talking about books with him. I love watching him zip through a book in a few days. I like him knowing things and having opinions. I like teaching him stuff about life and church and science and current events and even sex. The moments like we had a few weeks ago when Ben was making an obnoxious noise on the floor and Thomas said to me, "Did I ever do that" and when I assured him he had, and does, he said, "Wow, I'm sorry!" and laughed. How awesome is that! To see him growing up is such a wonderful thing. Sure I sometimes wish I could have him revert to a little baby just for a few hours - I'd love to hold that sweet weight in my arms again, to play with his baby-soft sideburns and smell that baby scent of him - but it isn't going to happen, and that's okay. We have so much future ahead of us to learn about each other and life and us as a family - how awesome. I love it and I love him and am so glad he picked me to be his mom.
Sunday, February 26, 2012
February love number 16
So tonight we had a repeat of the dinner we had two weeks ago: tomato macaroni soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. As I pulled sandwiches off the hot sandwich maker, I realized that it, along with Ben's dresser and a table that my dad made in high-school wood shop, are among the few items I've carried around with me my whole adult life. I took it with me to college two different times, have moved it from apartment to house to house and it still works just like it did in when it was first purchased.
I have a very clear memory of making grilled cheese sandwiches with this very sandwich maker with my friend Janna. We were living in the apartment I had in downtown Salt Lake in 1994. It was summertime and I had just been to my third Grateful Dead concert and had celebrated my 19th birthday. Janna and I stood in our tiny kitchen and she kept calling the sandwiches I was making for us "crunchy sandwiches" rather than "grilled cheese sandwiches." I laughed at her and she laughed at me and I asked her why she kept saying that and she said it was because that is what she thought I had said when I suggested dinner that night. So it kind of stuck and we at a lot of crunchy sandwiches that summer.
It's kind of dumb- just a little snippet of a moment - but it came back so powerfully to me. You know that little smell that comes off of your hand mixer - a conglomeration of all the powdered sugar that has been sucked inside it over the years? I think it's the same with waffle irons and, as I realized tonight, sandwich makers. I loved that this memory came back to me tonight. It was one of the most uncomplicated times of my life. I went to work everyday with Shane but we were just friends. After work I would hang out in my room with my two best friends/roommates, sitting on the top bunk of our bunk beds and smoking out the window, or going for coffee at the Salt Lake Roasting company. It was a fun time of life, and it was all brought back to me with that one little whiff.
So tonight I'm loving my memories of my younger days, before any drama that rocked our friendships or we got married or went away to college of out state or had kids or whatever. Sure, my life wasn't perfect. Stuff would happen in the next few months that would change everything forever. But right then, we were just friends eating crunchy sandwiches and loving life. And it's all embodied in a little appliance that lives under my counter.
It's kind of dumb- just a little snippet of a moment - but it came back so powerfully to me. You know that little smell that comes off of your hand mixer - a conglomeration of all the powdered sugar that has been sucked inside it over the years? I think it's the same with waffle irons and, as I realized tonight, sandwich makers. I loved that this memory came back to me tonight. It was one of the most uncomplicated times of my life. I went to work everyday with Shane but we were just friends. After work I would hang out in my room with my two best friends/roommates, sitting on the top bunk of our bunk beds and smoking out the window, or going for coffee at the Salt Lake Roasting company. It was a fun time of life, and it was all brought back to me with that one little whiff.
So tonight I'm loving my memories of my younger days, before any drama that rocked our friendships or we got married or went away to college of out state or had kids or whatever. Sure, my life wasn't perfect. Stuff would happen in the next few months that would change everything forever. But right then, we were just friends eating crunchy sandwiches and loving life. And it's all embodied in a little appliance that lives under my counter.
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
February love number 15
Tonight we had our monthly activity for relief society. I had to do a little schpeel about doing chore charts for our spring cleaning/home organization theme. I said what I needed to say and then asked for a few comments. After I was done, I was free to mingle for a bit. I pulled up a chair next to my neighbor Karen and friend Michelle and started to chat.
Now, I need to back up a tiny bit. Two Sundays ago, I went back to my old ward for a missionary farewell. I was all excited to go to church there that day, imagining myself sitting in relief society with some old friends, feeling at home and what all. After all, I was going back to the ward where I spent over 10 years of my life, the ward where they watched me go from completely inactive to teaching the lesson on Sunday. I imagined it would feel like home. But you know, it didn't. I didn't really talk to anyone that I thought I would talk to. I stared eagerly at the priests blessing the sacrament - they were the kids I had taught in primary almost 8 years ago, all growed up with deep voices and bored teenage stares at the congregation in front of them. My kids even wanted to go back to our regular ward for primary - something I didn't expect at all. I agreed to take them back and so we sat through the meeting, listening to the talks. When it was over, we left the chapel, greeting a few people on the way out.
I wasn't expecting this. I've been holding on the idea that I don't really belong in my current ward but in my old one. But I don't. I was excited to get back to sitting with my new friends in my new ward that day. It's a little bit like high school - you watch the people that you are in high school with for many years. You might see them go from nerd to captain of the football team in the space of a few years. But you still remember that person being a nerd before they were cool. Everyone in my old ward knew I had Issues. I was other in so many ways. I felt a bit like a charity case - oh, she's the one who has to come to church by herself. They saw my struggles and remembered. I don't think they judged me for it, but they still knew me back when I was - - - whoever I was 10 or 7 or 4 years ago. Not who I am today.
But I have that in my new ward. I'm just me. I still show up by myself, but it isn't a big deal. Shane and I can go to scout pack meeting together and I don't feel like everyone is nudging each other --- look who's here! --- behind my back. I don't feel on display or someone to be pitied. I'm just Becky and my kids are just Thomas and Ben and Shane is just Shane. How awesome is that! I realized it again tonight when I went and pulled up a chair and sat by my friends. They weren't my new friends or my second-best-friends-because-it's-the-other-ward friends. I might not have watched all their kids grow up from birth to primary to mutual, but there's time for that. We have stuff we talk about. I still gravitate towards the same type of person - someone who has common interests with me - but I realized I was talking to a group of ladies who know me and accept me and don't expect me to be anyone else but who I am today. They don't remember me from then. How awesome!! I finally am feeling like I'm looking forward instead of back.
I'm feeling the love for my ward. I know, how cheesy is that. But it's comforting too and that's okay.
Now, I need to back up a tiny bit. Two Sundays ago, I went back to my old ward for a missionary farewell. I was all excited to go to church there that day, imagining myself sitting in relief society with some old friends, feeling at home and what all. After all, I was going back to the ward where I spent over 10 years of my life, the ward where they watched me go from completely inactive to teaching the lesson on Sunday. I imagined it would feel like home. But you know, it didn't. I didn't really talk to anyone that I thought I would talk to. I stared eagerly at the priests blessing the sacrament - they were the kids I had taught in primary almost 8 years ago, all growed up with deep voices and bored teenage stares at the congregation in front of them. My kids even wanted to go back to our regular ward for primary - something I didn't expect at all. I agreed to take them back and so we sat through the meeting, listening to the talks. When it was over, we left the chapel, greeting a few people on the way out.
I wasn't expecting this. I've been holding on the idea that I don't really belong in my current ward but in my old one. But I don't. I was excited to get back to sitting with my new friends in my new ward that day. It's a little bit like high school - you watch the people that you are in high school with for many years. You might see them go from nerd to captain of the football team in the space of a few years. But you still remember that person being a nerd before they were cool. Everyone in my old ward knew I had Issues. I was other in so many ways. I felt a bit like a charity case - oh, she's the one who has to come to church by herself. They saw my struggles and remembered. I don't think they judged me for it, but they still knew me back when I was - - - whoever I was 10 or 7 or 4 years ago. Not who I am today.
But I have that in my new ward. I'm just me. I still show up by myself, but it isn't a big deal. Shane and I can go to scout pack meeting together and I don't feel like everyone is nudging each other --- look who's here! --- behind my back. I don't feel on display or someone to be pitied. I'm just Becky and my kids are just Thomas and Ben and Shane is just Shane. How awesome is that! I realized it again tonight when I went and pulled up a chair and sat by my friends. They weren't my new friends or my second-best-friends-because-it's-the-other-ward friends. I might not have watched all their kids grow up from birth to primary to mutual, but there's time for that. We have stuff we talk about. I still gravitate towards the same type of person - someone who has common interests with me - but I realized I was talking to a group of ladies who know me and accept me and don't expect me to be anyone else but who I am today. They don't remember me from then. How awesome!! I finally am feeling like I'm looking forward instead of back.
I'm feeling the love for my ward. I know, how cheesy is that. But it's comforting too and that's okay.
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
February love number 14
Today? It's Mardi Gras, Fat Tuesday to those non-french speakers who might be reading this (because you know, this blog is so hip with the international crowd. Just check my stat counter. Heh.) Anyway, this particular hedonistic day is the final live-it-up day before the season known by most of the Christian world as Lent, the 40 days of sacrifice that lead up to Easter. I think there seems a little bit too much of an "eat drink and be merry for tomorrow we die" essence to Mardi Gras for your typical Mormon, but whatever. I did allow myself to go cray-zay and have 2 cokes from the food court at work. I like living on the edge.
So, tomorrow starts Lent. About 3 years or so ago I got all excited about Lent and did two things: gave up soda and fasted for all the Sunday's during Lent. I really enjoyed it but the whole fasting for 7 Sundays thing was really hard. I enjoy fasting and all, but I just don't have the energy to commit to that. But I've thought all day about what I want to do for Lent and I've come up with the following things:
Do you have plans for Lent?
So, tomorrow starts Lent. About 3 years or so ago I got all excited about Lent and did two things: gave up soda and fasted for all the Sunday's during Lent. I really enjoyed it but the whole fasting for 7 Sundays thing was really hard. I enjoy fasting and all, but I just don't have the energy to commit to that. But I've thought all day about what I want to do for Lent and I've come up with the following things:
- I'm giving up soda, again. February has weighed in as a particularly hedonistic month with a grand total of 8 cokes being consumed. Mm. But, I do feel much better when I don't drink it, and I do better at giving it up when I have a definite goal in mind. So, bye-bye to the soda. Tiny sniff.
- Run and/or Bodyrock 5 days in the week. Or more. I did the January Bodyrock 30 day challenge. I loved every minute of it. Okay, maybe not the burpees, but really burpees do make you strong even if they really suck. If you've checked it out and noticed that they always put a sex-ay picture of the host as a teaser to the workout - yeah. That's what they do. But, the workouts themselves are really intense and the hosts are genuine in the quest to help the world of living-room worker-outers who are out there body rocking in their underwear or whatever (but not me. I wear clothes, just in case you are wondering.) I dare you to try a week of workouts. It's 12 minutes of your life, you can use this online interval timer, and you aren't out anything. You might even like it. Let me know if you do.
- Read scriptures or a church talk every day. One thing that I didn't anticipate from getting a kindle is access to the Ensign and other church magazines for frees. Now I have really no excuse for not reading this material. I used to use the excuse that I didn't want to pay for a subscription. That went away. I've read the Ensign two whole months in a row now. Who knew? Wow, I might be a real Mormon one day after all.
Do you have plans for Lent?
Monday, February 20, 2012
February love Number 13
Thanksgiving 2009 was the first - and only, I might add - year I had Thanksgiving at my house. We had a unique year where we didn't have anywhere to be, so I decided to cook. I remember getting up super early to put in the turkey and looking outside and deciding immediately to go for a run. I donned on tights, skirt, jacket, gloves, hat - everything I would need to stay warm. I could see it was freezing outside just by the pattern of frost on the rooftops of my neighbors house. Notwithstanding, I headed out into the cold, my eyes streaming with tears from the sudden temperature change.
I remember this run because of the day, it being Thanksgiving. It took me a block or to to acclimate to the cold, but once I did I found myself flying (or at least my approximation of flying - I'm not fast, remember?) I remember the singular feeling while coming home of the skin on my thighs being cold even while the rest of me was warm, but it was kind of cool feeling that - a little reminder that it was, in fact, below freezing. I also remember this run because it seems as though it was the line of demarcation: before this run I felt a little afraid of cold-weather running. After - I loved it.
As long as I am prepared for it, running in the cold is my favorite. I require an ear warmer and gloves - even if I know I will probably take them off, I have to have them to begin a cold-weather run. I also trust no other jacket than my favorite black Nike fleece. Paired with a long-sleeve tech shirt it I can stay warm even when the temperatures are in the 20's. Mm, love being a little cold but warm at the same time.
Last summer when it finally got warm, I noticed how much warmer-weather running sucks. I mean, I'll do it and I can appreciate beauty of watching the sun rise on a summer's from the perspective of a run and all that, but when it's really hot - it makes me feel like a slug. I have a hard time forcing myself through space. The heat creates within me a particular exhaustion and then I slow down and never really speed back up. I hate that feeling then and wish for the cooler temperatures to come back.
Winter running - it's the best. Well, as long as the wind is going the right direction and it isn't snowing or raining (I don't run in wet weather. Cold you can get over, but not being wet and cold. Blech.) Are you with me?
I remember this run because of the day, it being Thanksgiving. It took me a block or to to acclimate to the cold, but once I did I found myself flying (or at least my approximation of flying - I'm not fast, remember?) I remember the singular feeling while coming home of the skin on my thighs being cold even while the rest of me was warm, but it was kind of cool feeling that - a little reminder that it was, in fact, below freezing. I also remember this run because it seems as though it was the line of demarcation: before this run I felt a little afraid of cold-weather running. After - I loved it.
As long as I am prepared for it, running in the cold is my favorite. I require an ear warmer and gloves - even if I know I will probably take them off, I have to have them to begin a cold-weather run. I also trust no other jacket than my favorite black Nike fleece. Paired with a long-sleeve tech shirt it I can stay warm even when the temperatures are in the 20's. Mm, love being a little cold but warm at the same time.
Last summer when it finally got warm, I noticed how much warmer-weather running sucks. I mean, I'll do it and I can appreciate beauty of watching the sun rise on a summer's from the perspective of a run and all that, but when it's really hot - it makes me feel like a slug. I have a hard time forcing myself through space. The heat creates within me a particular exhaustion and then I slow down and never really speed back up. I hate that feeling then and wish for the cooler temperatures to come back.
Winter running - it's the best. Well, as long as the wind is going the right direction and it isn't snowing or raining (I don't run in wet weather. Cold you can get over, but not being wet and cold. Blech.) Are you with me?
Friday, February 17, 2012
February love 12
On January 1st, I gave up soda. I went the whole month of January without any coke, which wasn't hard but at the same time was. I have certain times of day that I like to go for a coke: usually after my run/exercise, and while my kids are still at school. It's a little indulgence that I would allow myself a few days a week; it was a little sad not doing it, but I survived.
So now I've had exactly 4 cokes this month. As I pulled up to the 7-11 to grab a soda today (because I'm sick and coughing and I just gave in!) I realized one thing in this life that I love: premix soda machines. You know - the ones that have a button that says "vanilla" or "cherry" or "lime" that adds the flavor to your drink. I can get the perfect vanilla coke, unlike my pathetic attempts at adding the syrup to the coke at other gas stations.
Mm. Perfect vanilla coke. It's making me happy today. I'll probably give it up again tomorrow.
So now I've had exactly 4 cokes this month. As I pulled up to the 7-11 to grab a soda today (because I'm sick and coughing and I just gave in!) I realized one thing in this life that I love: premix soda machines. You know - the ones that have a button that says "vanilla" or "cherry" or "lime" that adds the flavor to your drink. I can get the perfect vanilla coke, unlike my pathetic attempts at adding the syrup to the coke at other gas stations.
Mm. Perfect vanilla coke. It's making me happy today. I'll probably give it up again tomorrow.
February love number 11
7 years ago right now, I was at the hospital with Shane. We had arrived (on time, which was an improvement over the first time around) promptly and were shown to our room. I stopped in the pre-dawn light outside the hospital to take a picture of my enormous belly - I still remember the black shirt and jeans I was wearing under my coat.
From there the day commenced. I can remember trailing my IV pole as I visited the bathroom again and again. Since I was being induced, I couldn't walk the halls as they portray women in labor on the TV (I wouldn't know if it really happens - I never could go into labor on my own.) We watched When Harry Met Sally. We chatted on the phone with parents and siblings and whoever we could think of. We waited and waited and then, at 6:30 in the evening I had a little blond baby in my arms. Oh, he was so sweet and chubby and content. And so Benjamin entered the world.
Ben was ready to come to this earth. He's always always known exactly what he wants, and once he gets it, he's the happiest kid in the world. He loves to draw and color and write little notes to people. He has a very sweet heart and a very mischievous character. His current passion is kicking a soccer ball all over the house, which makes me kinda crazy but it is cute to watch him playing and being passionate about something.
Ben's best friend in the whole world is his brother. Every morning since he was very little his first words have been "Where's Thomas?" It is his personal mission in life to both make happy and annoy Thomas. I love that they love each other so much.
I never really thought much about February until after I had him. It's always seemed like such a cold and dreary month. But now I kind of love February. It's kind of like the gateway month to spring and Easter and my bulbs coming up. I love that him having a birthday during this month makes it a little more special.
Oh, how I wish I could go back just for one second to that day. The moment I had Ben - the very second he left my body I remember so clearly - I thought: I want to do that again. I wanted to have that special bond with just one more human being and be able to bring them into this world and be their mom. It hasn't happened again and I haven't forgotten that moment - I still want that. I loved being pregnant and I loved the days my babies were born more than any others in my life. No other days feel like that (well, except the day that my dad died - it is amazing how similar they felt - maybe it is the influence of the veil being so close and thin that makes those days so uncommonly special.) But this post isn't about me and my longings it's about Ben and how much I love him. Except that somehow him being born and my longings get caught up in one another because they are so wrapped up in one another.
Happy seventh birthday to my sweet little Benjamin. I thank God every single day for giving him to me. He brings so much light and happiness to my life.
From there the day commenced. I can remember trailing my IV pole as I visited the bathroom again and again. Since I was being induced, I couldn't walk the halls as they portray women in labor on the TV (I wouldn't know if it really happens - I never could go into labor on my own.) We watched When Harry Met Sally. We chatted on the phone with parents and siblings and whoever we could think of. We waited and waited and then, at 6:30 in the evening I had a little blond baby in my arms. Oh, he was so sweet and chubby and content. And so Benjamin entered the world.
Ben was ready to come to this earth. He's always always known exactly what he wants, and once he gets it, he's the happiest kid in the world. He loves to draw and color and write little notes to people. He has a very sweet heart and a very mischievous character. His current passion is kicking a soccer ball all over the house, which makes me kinda crazy but it is cute to watch him playing and being passionate about something.
Ben's best friend in the whole world is his brother. Every morning since he was very little his first words have been "Where's Thomas?" It is his personal mission in life to both make happy and annoy Thomas. I love that they love each other so much.
I never really thought much about February until after I had him. It's always seemed like such a cold and dreary month. But now I kind of love February. It's kind of like the gateway month to spring and Easter and my bulbs coming up. I love that him having a birthday during this month makes it a little more special.
Oh, how I wish I could go back just for one second to that day. The moment I had Ben - the very second he left my body I remember so clearly - I thought: I want to do that again. I wanted to have that special bond with just one more human being and be able to bring them into this world and be their mom. It hasn't happened again and I haven't forgotten that moment - I still want that. I loved being pregnant and I loved the days my babies were born more than any others in my life. No other days feel like that (well, except the day that my dad died - it is amazing how similar they felt - maybe it is the influence of the veil being so close and thin that makes those days so uncommonly special.) But this post isn't about me and my longings it's about Ben and how much I love him. Except that somehow him being born and my longings get caught up in one another because they are so wrapped up in one another.
Happy seventh birthday to my sweet little Benjamin. I thank God every single day for giving him to me. He brings so much light and happiness to my life.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
February love number 10
(Again - forgive formatting. Stipid tiny keys.) (Also, I do love me some parentheticals of late.) So, I have to say that i have prided myself on the fact that I never get the flu. In the fall, when everyone is running to get their flu shots I roll my eyes and think, whatever is so bad about the flu? I never feel feverish or achy or anything of the sort. I do make sure my kids get immunized, but me? Eh.
However, I think I have to eat a little crow. I got hit hard with some sort of bug last night that knocked me right on my butt. I felt hot. Then I felt cold. My head was pounding and I just wanted my bed. I stayed home today, never getting out of my pajamas all day until a few minutes ago when I took a hot shower, put on clean jammies, and got into my bed which Shane had just remade for me with clean sheets. Does anything in this world feel better than clean sheets after spending the day in bed being sick? I am just going to to go out on a limb and say nope, nope there isn't.
Clean sheets. What is not to love?
Monday, February 13, 2012
February love number 9
When I got married, I obtained grandparents. It seemed like unbelievable luck to marry into something that I barely remember having from my own childhood. And each year, Shane's grandparents would give us the same things for Christmas: towels, new pajamas, a shirt, pomegranate jelly, and a box of chocolates. (To this day, the week after Christmas tastes like my mother-in-law's cheese ball, left over cheese potatoes, and chocolates. Mmmm.)
This was the first year that Shane's grandpa didn't do gifts. I can't blame him - his family has grown by leaps and bounds, and it's hard for an 88-year-old man to keep up with that. So last year (that is, 2010) was the last year that our traditional gifts came from Grandpa. But, it was the year that he gave me the best pair of pajamas ever. They are a pair of fuzzy fleece multicolor bottoms that I wear constantly. I've worn them to my kid's karate studio multiple times. I've worn them to shovel snow. If you ever could see my legs when I take my kids to school, you would see me wearing my pajama bottoms. I've even taken them to our friend's house before to put on after dinner when we are all sitting around, shooting the bull. I love them. And I love that this dear man bought them for me to wear to all sorts of inappropriate places.
So today, because I feel like crap and I might be suffering from some sort of flu-ish type sickness (headache, fever, and the chills - I've came to help restore your pluck....ok, I won't go any farther. But if you know what comes next you are old like me.), so I'm in love with my jammies even more. I am planning on heating up a rice bag, putting on the rest of my jammies, and go to bed. Right now. Well, after I post this.
Do you love your pajamas? Which inappropriate place do you like to wear them?
This was the first year that Shane's grandpa didn't do gifts. I can't blame him - his family has grown by leaps and bounds, and it's hard for an 88-year-old man to keep up with that. So last year (that is, 2010) was the last year that our traditional gifts came from Grandpa. But, it was the year that he gave me the best pair of pajamas ever. They are a pair of fuzzy fleece multicolor bottoms that I wear constantly. I've worn them to my kid's karate studio multiple times. I've worn them to shovel snow. If you ever could see my legs when I take my kids to school, you would see me wearing my pajama bottoms. I've even taken them to our friend's house before to put on after dinner when we are all sitting around, shooting the bull. I love them. And I love that this dear man bought them for me to wear to all sorts of inappropriate places.
So today, because I feel like crap and I might be suffering from some sort of flu-ish type sickness (headache, fever, and the chills - I've came to help restore your pluck....ok, I won't go any farther. But if you know what comes next you are old like me.), so I'm in love with my jammies even more. I am planning on heating up a rice bag, putting on the rest of my jammies, and go to bed. Right now. Well, after I post this.
Do you love your pajamas? Which inappropriate place do you like to wear them?
Sunday, February 12, 2012
February Love Number 8
(Every time I write the titles to my post I think of that song "Mambo Number 5" and I giggle. Sorry, random. But I had to say it.)
So we were discussing what we should have for dinner this afternoon as I laid on the couch, Disney Channel in the background, I instantly knew what I wanted to eat. I had been cold since the moment I entered church, and even the hot chocolate I drank before lunch didn't make me warm. My head hurt and I just wanted to take a nice Sunday nap (which wasn't going to happen.) Suddenly, I knew exactly what I wanted for dinner: tomato macaroni soup and grilled cheese sandwiches.
Mmm. I love savory much more than sweet. A hot grilled cheese sandwich dipped in soup is divine. We have a perfectly seasoned sandwich maker that I got at ZCMI when I returned all the doubles of wedding gifts back when we first got married. It reminds me of our first (and only) apartment and learning how to be a married person and the source of meals. And the soup I used to make on a weekly basis when my nieces would come to visit on Saturday afternoons when I was a teenager. My kids have grown up on tomato macaroni - in fact, I made it so often when I was pregnant with Ben he had to have been 50% tomato macaroni.
So today's February love is comfort food. Something warm on a cold Sunday evening. Something that soothes the soul almost as much as the belly.
What is your comfort food?
So we were discussing what we should have for dinner this afternoon as I laid on the couch, Disney Channel in the background, I instantly knew what I wanted to eat. I had been cold since the moment I entered church, and even the hot chocolate I drank before lunch didn't make me warm. My head hurt and I just wanted to take a nice Sunday nap (which wasn't going to happen.) Suddenly, I knew exactly what I wanted for dinner: tomato macaroni soup and grilled cheese sandwiches.
Mmm. I love savory much more than sweet. A hot grilled cheese sandwich dipped in soup is divine. We have a perfectly seasoned sandwich maker that I got at ZCMI when I returned all the doubles of wedding gifts back when we first got married. It reminds me of our first (and only) apartment and learning how to be a married person and the source of meals. And the soup I used to make on a weekly basis when my nieces would come to visit on Saturday afternoons when I was a teenager. My kids have grown up on tomato macaroni - in fact, I made it so often when I was pregnant with Ben he had to have been 50% tomato macaroni.
So today's February love is comfort food. Something warm on a cold Sunday evening. Something that soothes the soul almost as much as the belly.
What is your comfort food?
Thursday, February 9, 2012
February Love Number 7
So, I'm going to try and keep this simple today because I'm tired and I worked almost 6 hours from home and I want to take a shower and go to bed. So there. Just kidding.
Although I don't usually talk much about religion, I was trying to think of something religious that I love, you know, like a scripture story or something. Since I never read any scriptures on my own (except at church) before the age of 14, I never had a favorite scripture story. They all seemed kind of hazy and mixed up. I knew who Jesus was, obviously, but the rest? Meh. All just names.
But, ever since I read the Book of Mormon all the way through for the first time when I was 20 I've loved Ammon. Ammon was a son of Mosiah. He knew how to party and have fun with his brothers and his brother from another mother Alma at one time in his life. Then an angel told him to shape up or ship out and he did as he was told. As a result, he left the safety of home and hearth to live among the heathen Lamanites. He loved the king he served and when asked, he shared the gospel. He stuck to it. People were eventually named after him. How cool.
Ah! such faith. He loved and served before he preached. Such a good example for me. I love this group - they weren't David's, who grew up being righteous with the expectation of doing great things. Nope. They were the rebels, the ones like me, hanging out at the Nephite version of Denny's, smoking and making fun of the nicely dressed people, trying to fight against the greater good. They knew what it was like to be bad, and then chose good. I love a good (and can relate to) a good 180 degree turnabout in life.
So how about you. What scripture character appeals to you?
Although I don't usually talk much about religion, I was trying to think of something religious that I love, you know, like a scripture story or something. Since I never read any scriptures on my own (except at church) before the age of 14, I never had a favorite scripture story. They all seemed kind of hazy and mixed up. I knew who Jesus was, obviously, but the rest? Meh. All just names.
But, ever since I read the Book of Mormon all the way through for the first time when I was 20 I've loved Ammon. Ammon was a son of Mosiah. He knew how to party and have fun with his brothers and his brother from another mother Alma at one time in his life. Then an angel told him to shape up or ship out and he did as he was told. As a result, he left the safety of home and hearth to live among the heathen Lamanites. He loved the king he served and when asked, he shared the gospel. He stuck to it. People were eventually named after him. How cool.
Ah! such faith. He loved and served before he preached. Such a good example for me. I love this group - they weren't David's, who grew up being righteous with the expectation of doing great things. Nope. They were the rebels, the ones like me, hanging out at the Nephite version of Denny's, smoking and making fun of the nicely dressed people, trying to fight against the greater good. They knew what it was like to be bad, and then chose good. I love a good (and can relate to) a good 180 degree turnabout in life.
So how about you. What scripture character appeals to you?
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
February Love Number 6
Back in 2008, I got my first running skirt (I blogged it here.) It took me a few months, but I eventually found myself trying to run in that skirt every chance I got. I still wear it, but I tend to wear it in the winter time over black leggings (because I like to have two layers, and why not have the second layer be a skirt, right?)
The past two years I have added to my running skirt collection greatly. I got a black Nike two Christmases ago when Shane won a Nordstrom gift card at his company party and he was kind enough to give it to me. (This skirt *might* be a tennis skirt, but I call it a running skirt, because that's what *I* chose to do with it.) I bought another black skirt at Target right before Ragnar, and that one quickly became my fave. It was my first skirt with a pocket - wahoo for being able to take a few Gu Chomps with me on my long runs. I wore that one all through the summer and fall. Then in November I found a scooter (think skirt with capris attached, rather than shorty shorts under the skirt). I've really enjoyed that one. And I've bought two Skirt Sports skirts - this one, but with purple flowers rather than pink, and this one in the pink crush/pink stripe print. (I just ordered this skirt - their skirts are on sale through tomorrow - hands down the best running skirt - the attached shorts never ever ride up - wahoo!) And who can forget our Ragnar sparkle skirts or the halloween sparkle and tutu I made for my Halloween half marathon.
I'm completely, 100% converted to the running skirt. I love how cute they are. I love that when I feel cute running, I feel fast. I love that they add a feminine aspect to this sport without taking away any credibility. I can be the same badass runner in a skirt as I can in a pair of old gym shorts - maybe even more, because who really feels up to their best in a pair of old gym shorts? Their functionality of being able to put a pair of tights underneath for cold-weather running makes them even more appealing to me.
Do you run in skirts? I dare you to just try one. I'm almost positive you'll never look back.
The past two years I have added to my running skirt collection greatly. I got a black Nike two Christmases ago when Shane won a Nordstrom gift card at his company party and he was kind enough to give it to me. (This skirt *might* be a tennis skirt, but I call it a running skirt, because that's what *I* chose to do with it.) I bought another black skirt at Target right before Ragnar, and that one quickly became my fave. It was my first skirt with a pocket - wahoo for being able to take a few Gu Chomps with me on my long runs. I wore that one all through the summer and fall. Then in November I found a scooter (think skirt with capris attached, rather than shorty shorts under the skirt). I've really enjoyed that one. And I've bought two Skirt Sports skirts - this one, but with purple flowers rather than pink, and this one in the pink crush/pink stripe print. (I just ordered this skirt - their skirts are on sale through tomorrow - hands down the best running skirt - the attached shorts never ever ride up - wahoo!) And who can forget our Ragnar sparkle skirts or the halloween sparkle and tutu I made for my Halloween half marathon.
I'm completely, 100% converted to the running skirt. I love how cute they are. I love that when I feel cute running, I feel fast. I love that they add a feminine aspect to this sport without taking away any credibility. I can be the same badass runner in a skirt as I can in a pair of old gym shorts - maybe even more, because who really feels up to their best in a pair of old gym shorts? Their functionality of being able to put a pair of tights underneath for cold-weather running makes them even more appealing to me.
Do you run in skirts? I dare you to just try one. I'm almost positive you'll never look back.
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
February Love Number 5
(I wrote this last night on my kindle and then it disappeared and I just didn’t have the energy to rewrite it before bed, typing on the tiny keys with 2 fingers.)
If you grew up with me, you will know that I’ve always been a picky eater. My poor mom couldn’t serve spaghetti with any sort of a chunky tomato if she expected me to eat any. I refused anything that looked squishy or pulpy or slimy or icky, which included peaches, pears, avocados, and the worst offender - pulpy orange juice
But: I’ve changed my ways (a little.) I can eat a tomato on my hamburger and enjoy it. And one thing I’ve converted to in my older years are the little Clementine oranges that they sell this time of year.
Oh! The Clementine. It’s the perfect orange (or is it a tangerine?) They are perfectly sweet. They are easy to peel. They almost never have seeds (just the thought of an orange seed hiding under thin orange skin is enough to make me avoid the regular orange. For life.) They are easy peasey to peel, and most of the white stuff comes off. Their happy little stickers make them see happy and fun, just sitting there in their mesh bag.
Clementines. I love love love them. Are you with me?
If you grew up with me, you will know that I’ve always been a picky eater. My poor mom couldn’t serve spaghetti with any sort of a chunky tomato if she expected me to eat any. I refused anything that looked squishy or pulpy or slimy or icky, which included peaches, pears, avocados, and the worst offender - pulpy orange juice
But: I’ve changed my ways (a little.) I can eat a tomato on my hamburger and enjoy it. And one thing I’ve converted to in my older years are the little Clementine oranges that they sell this time of year.
Oh! The Clementine. It’s the perfect orange (or is it a tangerine?) They are perfectly sweet. They are easy to peel. They almost never have seeds (just the thought of an orange seed hiding under thin orange skin is enough to make me avoid the regular orange. For life.) They are easy peasey to peel, and most of the white stuff comes off. Their happy little stickers make them see happy and fun, just sitting there in their mesh bag.
Clementines. I love love love them. Are you with me?
Sunday, February 5, 2012
February Love - Number 4
There are few things in life I love more than getting new running shoes. Since I tend to be a little bit thrifty (my sisters have called me "cheap" - they probably aren't too far off), I only get a pair of running shoes once a year. I try and monitor how far I run in them, and since most experts say shoes are good for 300-400 miles, I'm usually good (I ran 418 miles last year - I might push them a little farther than I should, but see above {cheap.})
So, a story. A few weeks ago on our 13th wedding anniversary date (dinner at Chili's sans kids) we went to the Nike Factory store (which is kind of like the porn store for runners. Ohhhhh the thumb-hole jackets, ohhhhh the running socks, ohhhhhh the fancy running outfits.) I happened to find the newest version of my favorite flavor of running shoes - the Nike Zoom Structure 15. They were cute (last year's version (as shown above) were white on white with some blue thrown in for good measure - boring!) - checking in with a grey/white/turquoise blue pattern. Priced at $79, I thought they were a steal. So I bought then and took them home and ran in them a few times. I like them, but I didn't love them, but I figured they would do okay.
Fast forward to the next weekend. While waiting for a table to open up at Olive Garden, I went in to the Nordstrom Rack. As I browsed the fancy-schmancy high heels in the shoe department, I did a double take when I found a pair of last year's Nike Zoom Structure 14 priced at $49! They were brand new! Without even trying them on, I claimed them as mine. But wait, it gets even better.
I went up to the register. I had remembered a few days before that the $20 coupon I got when I opened a Nordstom debit card had dissapeared and I'd never used it. I told this to the cashier, and she kindly called the credit department who could see that I had a $20 unused coupon on my account. She applied the coupon to my shoes, making them $29. $29 dollars, people! I spend more on dinner than that. I threw in some Puma socks for $7 (because I love the Puma socks - best non-wool socks you can buy, in my opinion) and strolled out of the store.
It was a dream come true. Getting my favorite running shoes (last year's model was on of my favorites over the past few years - this is my fourth or fifth pair of Zooms) made me happy. Getting them at $49 made me even happier. And saving an additional $20 made me want to cartwheel out of the store (would have been awkward, but was tempting!)
So this week, I'm loving good deals and the happiness that comes from running in a new pair of shoes. And I love that I was able to take back the first pair without any hassels (seriously - if you ever buy running shoes and you can't take them back in 30 days if they don't work - buy your shoes somewhere else!) I can't wait to get this pair just as dirty and worn down as the last pair.
Do you have a favorite type of exercise shoe?
So, a story. A few weeks ago on our 13th wedding anniversary date (dinner at Chili's sans kids) we went to the Nike Factory store (which is kind of like the porn store for runners. Ohhhhh the thumb-hole jackets, ohhhhh the running socks, ohhhhhh the fancy running outfits.) I happened to find the newest version of my favorite flavor of running shoes - the Nike Zoom Structure 15. They were cute (last year's version (as shown above) were white on white with some blue thrown in for good measure - boring!) - checking in with a grey/white/turquoise blue pattern. Priced at $79, I thought they were a steal. So I bought then and took them home and ran in them a few times. I like them, but I didn't love them, but I figured they would do okay.
Fast forward to the next weekend. While waiting for a table to open up at Olive Garden, I went in to the Nordstrom Rack. As I browsed the fancy-schmancy high heels in the shoe department, I did a double take when I found a pair of last year's Nike Zoom Structure 14 priced at $49! They were brand new! Without even trying them on, I claimed them as mine. But wait, it gets even better.
I went up to the register. I had remembered a few days before that the $20 coupon I got when I opened a Nordstom debit card had dissapeared and I'd never used it. I told this to the cashier, and she kindly called the credit department who could see that I had a $20 unused coupon on my account. She applied the coupon to my shoes, making them $29. $29 dollars, people! I spend more on dinner than that. I threw in some Puma socks for $7 (because I love the Puma socks - best non-wool socks you can buy, in my opinion) and strolled out of the store.
It was a dream come true. Getting my favorite running shoes (last year's model was on of my favorites over the past few years - this is my fourth or fifth pair of Zooms) made me happy. Getting them at $49 made me even happier. And saving an additional $20 made me want to cartwheel out of the store (would have been awkward, but was tempting!)
So this week, I'm loving good deals and the happiness that comes from running in a new pair of shoes. And I love that I was able to take back the first pair without any hassels (seriously - if you ever buy running shoes and you can't take them back in 30 days if they don't work - buy your shoes somewhere else!) I can't wait to get this pair just as dirty and worn down as the last pair.
Do you have a favorite type of exercise shoe?
Friday, February 3, 2012
February Love - Number 3
{First - I must apologize for last night's awful formatting. I used my Kindle to blog and I'm not good with tiny keyboards.}
{Second - I am kind of loving these posts. When I do my November Gratitude posts, I feel like I have to be all serious and thoughtful and profound. It's gratitude, after all. But just stuff I love? I kind of am giving myself license to be a little bit more shallow. If not shallow, then light-hearted. We are allowed to love things that are dumb like reruns of Lost and other such trivial matters in this life, right?}
So, tonight. My most loved accessory: bracelets. I am a total sucker for a nice bracelet. I have one that I wear all the time, day and night, no matter what I'm doing. Shane got it for me a few years ago and I believe I blogged it here. I love love it and I'll probably die wearing it. (Unless I have a daughter in some miraculous future who is anything like me. I once "borrowed" my mom's class ring and wore it for a few days. Then I LOST IT somewhere between work, home, and my ballet class. I didn't tell my mom about losing it until after I was married. I am evil. Sorry, mom. I suck. So, yeah, if karma ever comes around at me, it will suck. The miraculous daughter will "borrow" it and then not tell me. I will be sad but will know it was my own fault. Maybe I am taking this possible teenage-daughter-thievery too far. Sorry again!)
Back to reality and bracelets. If ever I want to feel like I'm dressing up, I reach for a bracelet. I have a few others I like to wear. My BFF Melanie gave me one this year that she brought me all the way from Vienna. This Christmas, my favoritest mother-in-law gave me one that I wore for weeks afterward. I have one that is literally on its last hinge that I only wear if I dare. And one of my faves that I never ever wear but love is a bracelet watch that was my Grandma's. I like that they are pretty make me feel girly.
How's that for shallow. But whatever. You know you have some sort of something that makes you feel happy to wear - what is it? Go ahead. I'm more than (shallowly) interested.
{Second - I am kind of loving these posts. When I do my November Gratitude posts, I feel like I have to be all serious and thoughtful and profound. It's gratitude, after all. But just stuff I love? I kind of am giving myself license to be a little bit more shallow. If not shallow, then light-hearted. We are allowed to love things that are dumb like reruns of Lost and other such trivial matters in this life, right?}
So, tonight. My most loved accessory: bracelets. I am a total sucker for a nice bracelet. I have one that I wear all the time, day and night, no matter what I'm doing. Shane got it for me a few years ago and I believe I blogged it here. I love love it and I'll probably die wearing it. (Unless I have a daughter in some miraculous future who is anything like me. I once "borrowed" my mom's class ring and wore it for a few days. Then I LOST IT somewhere between work, home, and my ballet class. I didn't tell my mom about losing it until after I was married. I am evil. Sorry, mom. I suck. So, yeah, if karma ever comes around at me, it will suck. The miraculous daughter will "borrow" it and then not tell me. I will be sad but will know it was my own fault. Maybe I am taking this possible teenage-daughter-thievery too far. Sorry again!)
Back to reality and bracelets. If ever I want to feel like I'm dressing up, I reach for a bracelet. I have a few others I like to wear. My BFF Melanie gave me one this year that she brought me all the way from Vienna. This Christmas, my favoritest mother-in-law gave me one that I wore for weeks afterward. I have one that is literally on its last hinge that I only wear if I dare. And one of my faves that I never ever wear but love is a bracelet watch that was my Grandma's. I like that they are pretty make me feel girly.
How's that for shallow. But whatever. You know you have some sort of something that makes you feel happy to wear - what is it? Go ahead. I'm more than (shallowly) interested.
Thursday, February 2, 2012
February Love 2: My Dreadmill
So, I know the treadmill isn't everyone's idea of fun while running, but I love mine. It is a pretty poor speciman to look at recently. In November, the bracket that makes it incline and decline broke in half. My handy husband tried to fix it, but it apparently requires welding and all sorts of chicanery to fix so no more incline runs. Sad.
About 3 years ago, the plastic covering that allows the belt to staying motion while a runner is standing on it came detached from the running board. Our awesome solution to reattach it? Scrapbook paper and quilting tacks. These held up until December of last year when the plastic piece detached again. This time we used some thin cardboard and some screws to reattach it. We thought we were in the clear until the January night when Shane cracked the running board in half. You might think at this point we would give in and upgrade, but you would be wrong. Shane and my kids took 3 pieces of a 1 x 4 x 8 piece of wood and screwed them under the running deck. We have had to reattach one of the boards twice now, but we are limping along nicely, thank you very much.
Yes, it's kinda ghetto currently. Mo it isn't new or pretty or even original to us (we were given it by some family members). But it makes it so I can run when time or circumstances don't allow me to go outside. I hope it can hold up a few more months - a new one isn't really in the stars anytime soon. As mind numbingly boring as it often is, I love my treadmill. It gets me where I want to be in so many ways without ever requiring me to go farther than my basement. I'll take it.
So do you brave the cold or deal with the boredom of dreadmill running/walking? Would you step foot on a treadmill held together by wood? I have to admit I worry one day it will break for real and we will have to find another one. It will be a sad day.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
February Love - Number 1
I've always admitted to being a great copycat. And the person I've been copying longest in my life? This girl. So, in typical little-sister fashion, I decided to copy her idea of doing some things that I love during the month of February. And it's even February 1st - I haven't missed a day yet! It's got to be a record for me.
So, for this initial February Love (my version of Amy's {What I love} series) my topic? Excel.
You see, February is official Crazy Month for me. At my work, we have all sorts of testing that we do. Because of regulations set by Uncle Sam (don't we all have an uncle named Sam?), any company who offers a 401K-type plan must not discriminate in favor of people who make more than a certain amount of money each year. These folks can't be allowed to contribute more than 2% more than the regular folks. Of course, this isn't on an individual basis - but over all. The ones who make money are averaged and the ones who don't are averaged and they have to be less than 2% difference. Now, if there is more than a 2% difference, then the plan administrator has to do refunds. And refunds have to be mailed by March 15th, according to our uncle. (I lost you at "401K-plan," didn't I?)
So. Basically, I spend all of February balancing what amounts to a giant checkbook, checking that what our employers think they've sent over the year is what they've really sent. Then if we do the other test that compares the Haves with the Have Nots and they are different and we have to do refunds, we know all our ducks are in a row. Whew!
And most of this lovely process is done in Excel. I spend my time sorting, copying, pasting, doing formulas, creating prn files to take the data into other programs. I become best friends with Excel. And I love every second of it. We even have a joke about the "microsoft creep," which is when you are highlighting a column or row for several hundred or thousand cells. It tends to "creep" either glacially slow or so fast that you've overshot the bottom of your data by hundreds of rows before you can blink. Whenever this happens, I think of the other "microsoft creep", aka Bill Gates, and get a little giggle. Spreadsheet humor. It's fun.
Excel, I love you. Your uniform cells and your ability to sort with filters make me giddy. I love highlighting an entire spreadsheet and clicking between the first two columns and making all the columns as wide as their data (swoon.) I love that you warn me of circular formulas each time I open up my checkbook register spreadsheet - you're watching out for me, even if I can't find that damn circular formula. It's true you can't change the case of text without me copying into your sister Word, but you still make me happy. Thanks for being there for me, every day in February and all the year through.
Do you have spreadsheet love? Want to rock my world by telling me your favorite use of Excel? I can't wait to find out.
So, for this initial February Love (my version of Amy's {What I love} series) my topic? Excel.
You see, February is official Crazy Month for me. At my work, we have all sorts of testing that we do. Because of regulations set by Uncle Sam (don't we all have an uncle named Sam?), any company who offers a 401K-type plan must not discriminate in favor of people who make more than a certain amount of money each year. These folks can't be allowed to contribute more than 2% more than the regular folks. Of course, this isn't on an individual basis - but over all. The ones who make money are averaged and the ones who don't are averaged and they have to be less than 2% difference. Now, if there is more than a 2% difference, then the plan administrator has to do refunds. And refunds have to be mailed by March 15th, according to our uncle. (I lost you at "401K-plan," didn't I?)
So. Basically, I spend all of February balancing what amounts to a giant checkbook, checking that what our employers think they've sent over the year is what they've really sent. Then if we do the other test that compares the Haves with the Have Nots and they are different and we have to do refunds, we know all our ducks are in a row. Whew!
And most of this lovely process is done in Excel. I spend my time sorting, copying, pasting, doing formulas, creating prn files to take the data into other programs. I become best friends with Excel. And I love every second of it. We even have a joke about the "microsoft creep," which is when you are highlighting a column or row for several hundred or thousand cells. It tends to "creep" either glacially slow or so fast that you've overshot the bottom of your data by hundreds of rows before you can blink. Whenever this happens, I think of the other "microsoft creep", aka Bill Gates, and get a little giggle. Spreadsheet humor. It's fun.
Excel, I love you. Your uniform cells and your ability to sort with filters make me giddy. I love highlighting an entire spreadsheet and clicking between the first two columns and making all the columns as wide as their data (swoon.) I love that you warn me of circular formulas each time I open up my checkbook register spreadsheet - you're watching out for me, even if I can't find that damn circular formula. It's true you can't change the case of text without me copying into your sister Word, but you still make me happy. Thanks for being there for me, every day in February and all the year through.
Do you have spreadsheet love? Want to rock my world by telling me your favorite use of Excel? I can't wait to find out.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)