Patriarchal Blessing

So about Patriarchal Blessings: I don't have one.


Yes, it's a shock, I know.


Actually....to those of you that know me pretty well, its not so much of a shocker.


A few years of relative inactivity + making mistakes + not being able to forgive myself= putting it off for a LONG time.


BUT, I think I'm finally ready to get down to it. Does anyone have any pointers? How did you prepare yourself? Do you wish you'd done something differently?

Top Ten

I just realized I never posted my top ten albums of 2009 on here....

It's kind of mainstream and won't really surprise anyone. Enjoy anyway!


TOP TEN ALBUMS of 2009:
(in no particular order)
1)Dirty Projectors- Bitte Orca
2)Tegan & Sara- Sainthood
3)Neko Case- Middle Cyclone
4)Ida Maria- Fortress Round My Heart
5)Grizzly Bear- Veckatimest
6)Phoenix- Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix
7)Yeah Yeah Yeah's- It's Blitz!
8)Animal Collective- Merriweather Post Pavilion
9)Calvin Harris- Ready for the Weekend
10)Here We Go Magic- Here We Go Magic

Mom Clique

There are alot of hard things about being a nanny. I won't list them, because most of them are pretty obvious.

There's one thing, however, that took me off guard. I didn't see it coming, and I have no idea how to fix it, but it really is a BIG problem.


The Mom Clique.

This might be specific to Utah Valley, but mom's are freaking cliquey. There are cool moms (the ones that started a preschool in their basement, and have husbands coaching local teams, and match their kids everyday) and the not cool moms (the ones that wear pajamas, the ones that don't color coordinate, the ones that work, the ones that aren't moms at all but are actually "nannies").

At first I thought I was paranoid. It seemed like I was being treated like "the help." And the more I noticed, the more I felt like a maid. Like it didn't matter what my name was.

Then, I saw some proof:

I know I use the term "nanny" in this blog; however, no one in the family I work for does. They call me "babysitter." The boys don't EVER use the word nanny, and neither do the parents. And yet....all the kids in the neighborhood call me "nanny," and the only place they could possibly get it from is their parents.

I've introduced myself to all of these moms as Brooke. I correct the kids and say "Oh, you can call me Brooke. I'm Keegan and Jacob's friend, I get to play with them every day," because nanny almost sounds like a cuss word around here.

It's not even so much the term, as the vibe I get from it. I'm the help. I'm working for a family that doesn't have a stay-at-home-mom, so they must be bad parents.



One day Keegan and I were stuck in traffic and couldn't make it on time to get Jacob from the bus stop. I knew he'd be sitting there, stressed out, thinking I'd forgotten him. I called a bunch of other moms, trying frantically to get one to go get him and hold on to him for ten minutes while i made it home. I called 5 moms, finally one called me back and said she could snag him along with her own kids.

I know for a fact all of those moms were home, and could've answered. They're all stay-at-home moms, and all their cars were home when we drove by.

I need a support system! I HAVE to be friends with these women! Jacob and Keegan are already a little socially repressed, and this isn't going to help. If they don't know me, all they can do is look at my weird hair/clothes and know that I'm PAID to be here, and then not let their kids play with the kids I watch.

Of course, there are moms on the other side who when I say "lets have a playdate" come and drop their kids of without so much as a hello, like I'm the neighborhood babysitter.

Either way you treat me like the help, ignoring me or using me, I don't appreciate it. And I don't know how to break through this barrier. It's making me depressed.

I AM SICK OF THESE

Blogs are going to be the death of me. Everyone says/does annoying things, even I do, but I'm done. In conversation and in blogs, I have had enough.


1)The End. As in, saying something cute then pronouncing you have finished. I.e. "We should have a photoshoot. The end"

2)May or may not be. When we all know, it is. "I may or may not be engaged!"

3)Aligning your text to the middle of the blog, instead of left hand lining. Not only that, but then each line is 5 words or less! It's not freakin fancy prose, it's a blog. Don't be silly.

4)Adorable nicknames for boyfriends. My sisters and I are RETARDEDLY guilty of this. Mancandy, Boy Wonder, now THD? Really Kristina? THEY HAVE NAMES FOR A REASON.

5)Family/solo/random person photos that are distressed/sepia/holdingballoons/umbrellas/notsmiling/holdinghandsbutlookingawayfromeachother/lookingthroughacameraintoanothercamera.

6)Last but not least, putting the word "blog" into another other word. Blogtastic, Bloggable, Blogorrific. Unless you mean to have that be the blog version of "horrific," don't do it.


I need a blog break. Everyone is bothering me.

Kayla day

Today I spent the entire day in the company of my dear friend Kayla.

We woke up, went to church, went to choir practice, made dinner, and tried to watch a movie.

She fell asleep and now I'm going to make her wake up and have an ice cream feast with me.


Good sunday.

Depressed

I may never sell my contract.

Boo.

Bumble Bee

Keegan, age 3, has been asking me for "The Bumblebee Song" for about a week now. Everytime we're in the car or I play music on the computer, he says "brookie can you please play the bumblee song? please?" and I have had no idea what he's talking about.

I've looked through all of their Kids Bop CDs, and their favorite Disney music, and I couldn't find anything with bumblees! He'd even sing it, although from what I could tell the lyrics were just "bumblebee bumblebee bumblebee" over and over again.


Then, one day we were listening to the radio, and the Black Eyed Peas came on.

"THIS IS IT!" he was screaming hysterically from the back seat because he was so excited

Turns out, it's "Imma Be" by the Black Eyed Peas. It really does sound like he's saying bumbebee, and I'll never be able to hear anything else now whenever I listen to that song.

Age of Accountability

So, in the LDS church 8 years old is considered the age of accountability, where you should officially know right from wrong and be held completely responsible for your choices.


But what about abused children? What about kids with fetal alcohol syndrome? What if they were molested when they were young and they have severe sexual issues for the rest of their lives. Are they held accountable for the poor choices they make then, which they wouldn't have made if it wasn't for the abuse?

Where is the line?

I just emailed my bishop about this because I've been wondering about it alot lately.

Cute

Keegan is in this adorable phase where everytime he sees a flower, he picks it up and gives it to me.

And Jacob now only calls me Brookie, even when he is mad at me. "But I want it, Brookie!"





Cute boys. Good job.

L v D

Likes

Dark Chocolate Ice Cream
Evian Water
Minute Maid orange juice
Indian Food
driving someone else's car
Breakfast Burritos
Sleeping with socks on
Eyeliner
trampolines
the smell of chlorine
clean floors

Dislikes

Sushi
White Chocolate
broken glass
Tea
straight hair
Lemon Honey Cough Drops
Korean Food
Sandals
Soda
the color orange
sand bees

Playtime for Parents

Yesterday I took the boys to the Natural History Museum at University of Utah, since it's free Mondays.

There were tons of kids, everyone going nuts over puzzles and pictures and books and bugs.

At the play area downstairs there is a wall with a magnetic dinosaur puzzle, and a middle aged man was pulling all the pieces off of it. He called for his daughter to come and do it with him, which I thought was cute.

Then, Keegan, the 3 yr old I watch, went up and started to do it with them. The dad turned around and saw that I was taking pictures of him, and gave me a dirty look, as if to say "hey we totally have dibs on this puzzle right now." Three other little kids came up to do the puzzle (this is in a large public area, full of children) and the man's little girl started grabbing pieces away from them rudely, showing that she felt the same way. When I say little I mean around 9 or 10, old enough to know better.

Keegan just keeps doing his thing, since he is obsessed with puzzles and very little can distract him from solving them.

I'm thinkin maybe this guy is just weird and try to forget about it.

Then, his wife rolls up, and picks up a puzzle piece that was under a chair. Keegan goes up to her and looks at it, pointing at where it goes and he is all excited that he knows. The mom goes "yeah, I can do it." and goes over his head and puts the piece up on the puzzle!!!!

Seriously lady? Lame. How old are you? This is obviously a kids puzzle, and you freaking stole his puzzle thunder. I grabbed Keegan and we went and played with some little toys in the corner.

Of course, 5 minutes later, they all end up playing in the same toy area as we are.

I see the Dad has another kid (around 2 or so) who was freaking adorable and sweet with the other kids. She saw that her dad was holding a little toy. He was arranging the colors on it so they went from lightest to darkest. She went over to play with it and he was obviously annoyed, saying "Let me finish it" and pushing his little girl away!!! Then when he finished he showed his wife like HE was the 2 year old.

I've seen parents do this before. Why are they like that?! They have a strange desire to prove that they can beat games meant for 3-5 yr olds, and then they feel proud. Congrats. You are weird, and your kids probably will be held back in school since they never got to finish anything on their own.

Face puffs

I don't know about all you winners out there, reading blogs and eating leftovers, but THIS winner right here, writing blogs and neglecting the children she nannys, is having a freaking rough week.

I woke up this morning with the puffiest face in America. I went in to work and my boss was terrified I have pink eye, but she calmed down when I explained that even ten minutes of crying anytime after 9PM will result in a crazy puff face the next day.

I want comfort food like whoa, but I'm trying to refrain. The last thing I need is to be depressed about my romantic life and my thighs.


On the plus side, it's pretty for sure that I'll be moving to Rexburg in the fall with my dear friend Kayla, to help open up the BYUIdaho Sammys!!! Sure the weather will suck, but I'm so over Provo I will jump into traffic if I have to stay here another year.

Don't get me wrong, I will really miss the mountains, and BYU campus, and how pretty snow can be sometimes, and I'll definitely miss the boys I watch, but if I don't have a solid relationship or defined educational goals, what is keeping me here?

Nothing.