It's Baaaaaccckkk!

My Dad left on Saturday. On Sunday morning I found this in the cereal cupboard:


The dreaded wedding plaque.

Lance and I received this bad boy at our wedding from one of my mom's cousins kids or someone like that. It's our wedding announcement and engagement picture lacquered onto a board. The board was tinted pink, the announcement had some weird edge cut into it, and, best of all, there was glitter in the lacquer.

A masterpiece of epic bad-wedding-gift proportions.

(Sidenote: I'm sure the, ah, artist had the best intentions with this gift. But they obviously did not know anything about Lance or myself. Or our tastes. Or our sense of humor.)

I'm not sure why we hung on to it, but I clearly remember it in a place of 'honor' in the bookshelf above our computer, away from public eyes. I think I figured I would eventually come up with a good use for it.

And I did.

As a gift for my youngest brother, Kevin.

Because what teenager wouldn't luurrve to get a wedding plaque from their weirdo older sister's wedding?

It was a gag gift, of course. And since then it has come back and forth between our home and his. He had it for most of of his schooling in Idaho. And even for some of his mission in Chicago. Here and there he's gotten it back to me, but I think he must like it better because he seems to have it a lot more often than I do.

Which is why I can't see myself keeping it for very long. Don't worry, Kevin, the plaque will make it's way back, safe and sound, to you.

And soon.

p.s. Oh Dad, you traitor! I can't believe you let Kevin turn you into a wedding plaque mule!

It's A...

BOY!

I am now having visions of my house awash with testosterone and sticky Matchbox cars.

I put the blame squarely on Lance. Where it belongs.

Yes, we Madsens are a prolific bunch - the Madsen line will NOT be ending with us, that's for dang sure.


Friends and family have already asked if we'll try again for a girl. Let's just get through this baby first, people. (Besides, I am so not the type to tempt fate in that manner. I'd end up with eight boys or something crazy like that. Not gonna happen.)

Spencer refused to believe it was a boy and still insists that it's a girl. Joshie thinks we should name the baby Yoshi. Or Bowser. I can choose. (Isn't that nice of him?)


But no matter. We know boys. I think we're good with them. Well, we at least know how to contain them. Mostly. Plus, we already have plenty of boy clothes, blankets, and toys. (But not enough. We'll still accept any and all donations, Grandparents.)

The Lord must need plenty of good elders in the next 14+ years. And we are apparently supplying most of them. Or something.

And that's okay.

On that note, please enjoy this little diddy that keeps running through my head:

Tuckered Out

This is what happens when the distance between your computer and your bed is just too great:


Or maybe he's trying to hint that his bed is just really uncomfortable.


Or perhaps he's just a stubborn two year old who, although he knows he needs a nap, refuses to take one until he passes out from sheer exhaustion.


(My money's on the last reason.)

Highlight of My Day

Josh had a really stinky diaper this afternoon.

I don't know how it is in your house, but the amount of wrestling needed to change Josh's diaper is perfectly proportional to how nasty that diaper is. This diaper needed a lot of wrestling.

Anyway.

I had wrestled him down and was just finishing cleaning him up when his sock got stuck on one of the velcro tabs on the diaper.

You can see where this is going.

Before I could stop him or even threaten his life, he had kicked that diaper four feet in the air, dirty wipes and other... stuff... flying in the air.

None landed on him. (Of course.) But then again, none landed on me either. (A minor miracle.) But there was plenty to clean up around us on the carpet.

Lucky me.

Okay, this wasn't really the highlight of my day. But it certainly was the most memorable. What was the highlight of your day?

Hawaiian Hut

We've been waiting months and months for the Hawaiian Hut to open. (A family in our ward started it.) I would drive by it three times a week on the way to and from preschool, always hoping to see an 'open' sign.

Finally - the wait is over! And was it worth it?

YES.

YUMMY.

The food was excellent, the service was great, the prices were reasonable, and the atmosphere was really fun. (Too bad the boys were the opposite of that!)

I'm already planning my next trip back. Lunch date anyone?

TV-less

Our TV broke - 24 days ago.

That's right. We've been without the boob-tube for 24 days. 24 days!!!

The dumb thing just died. Luckily it's still under warranty. Unluckily, the company contracted to fix it is run by morons with no customer service training whatsoever. I don't care if it's the holidays, mister. It shouldn't take this long to get the frickin' TV fixed! You ordered the wrong part because you didn't bother checking the part number? And how is that my problem? And why is it taking another week?

Okay, I'm a bit peeved.

We're not completely without TV. Lance, the IT Kingmeister, has hooked up a computer monitor and finagled it so that we can play Wii and watch movies. And just this past weekend he performed some black magic and now we can even watch TV on it.

But it's just not the same. It's small and takes a long time just to be able to watch the news or throw on some cartoons for the boys.

I never thought I'd say this, but I really miss the TV.

Self-Portrait Tuesday: Week 17

No, that isn't my belly button. (Yet.) That's the drawstring on my scrubs.

Oh, and for your viewing pleasure here are a few more eye shots from Josh. It's taken on a lovely shade of dark purple, fading into a mucous-colored green. Glamorous.