Compromised?

First things first, Sunday, Mike decided to mock me, so he wrote the last post. Whatever. We bet dinner over whether it would be believable or not. I said no one would really think it was me unless I declared myself monopoly champion at least 12 times, but he didn't think that was funny. He, being the man that he is, looked up the potato picture on the internet because heaven forbid, the whole camera thing is too much. I was going to try to write a post as him, but that's harder than it looks. So whatever, I'm admitting defeat, and I guess I'll buy him dinner... it's really not that bad since...he's the one that works.

So, today is Wednesday, or in other words, the day Meagan tries to have a life and gets the car, which means I get up at 7 and take him to work. Today, Mike handed Mitchell a jar of peanuts to keep him entertained in the back seat. Mike forgot to take said peanuts to work when we got there. So, Mitchell and I are driving along in our automobile, when I hear, what sounds like peanuts spilling all over. Yes, that's what it was. I would have pulled over, but Mitchell being the genius tormentor that he is, waited till I had reached the endless construction zone to unscrew the lid and turn the jar of peanuts upside down, all over the car seat, and backseat of the car, and I had no where to quickly pull over.

Well, this is great. Since he's now shoving peanuts into his mouth as quickly as possible, and laughing, I start praying he doesn't have a peanut allergy. Oh, who am I kidding? The kid lives off peanut butter.

This isn't funny to me. And I'm trying to just get home now, and he starts chucking peanuts at me. I said, "Mitchell, this is a driving hazard! Stop!" but the child doesn't listen, I find it extremely hard to get mad at him when he's laughing so hard, and I continue to get peanuts all over my hair, till I can safely pull to the side, and save ... half the can. Lovely.

The good news is Mike promised to clean the car tomorrow, I think. Didn't you say that Mikey??

Yesterday, Mitchell ate granola for breakfast, my granola, but granola nevertheless. I thought that was impressive, to say the least, perhaps being picky was just a stage? So when I was making smoothies that night, I decided to add some spinach to see if he'd eat it. I tried it first, and couldn't tell that I added spinach (it was just this awful green color) so I just added the rest of the bag. Vitamin K! Vitamin K!

Seriously, as gross as it looks, it tasted the same as any other smoothie. And....

Mitchell....

Loved it. Yes!

One time, in Rexburg, we were having people over, and for some reason I thought it'd be great to try a recipe I stumbled upon. For zucchini brownies. They were so gross. Seriously, so nasty. At the time I was thinking: carrot cake=good, therefore zucchini brownies=good. No, they did not. I don't remember what happened, I probably made some regular fattening, glorious brownies, but anyway, ever since then I've been so leery of adding vegetables to regular things, but this has given me new hope. So I guess the next step is adding zucchini to spaghetti sauce and squash to mac and cheese.

Mike and I have taken a little break from monopoly, and bought scrabble. After memorizing all the two and three letter words in the official scrabble dictionary, we're pretty close as far as skill goes. Usually whoever can place the Z or Q on a triple letter tile wins. Last night, the score was 313 to 294, me in the lead, and we both have one little tile left. I didn't think he could catch up. Mike, out of no where, scores a 18 point word with an A, which brings us to 313 and 312. You know that stupid rule where the person who gets rid of all their tiles gets the other unplaced tiles added to their score, while your unplaced tiles are subtracted? Yeah. So the final score was still 313 to 312. He just beat me, by one point, over that stupid rule. Laaaaame. We ended the night to Mike turning on Queen and singing "I am the champion, Meagan Taylor, and I'll always beat you, every time." Rude.

Even Mitchell didn't think it was funny Mike. ha.

Mike's Argentine Potato Casserole

(Sorry that the picture isn't one of us this time, I've just used all the one's I've had on my previous blogs.)

So while we were deciding on what to make for dinner, Mike came up with the brilliant plan to make his famous "Argentine Potato Casserole", yeah it sounds as exciting as it tasted. He could have basically called it mash potatoes mixed with ground beef with a sprinkle of cheddar cheese on top. The funny part about this whole situation is how it tasted, it was actually pretty good. While I ate my entire plate, mitch decided that he liked the meat but not the mashed potatoes and he spit them out. Here comes the kicker, after he spit them out he thought it would be better to put them in his water and then drink it. Yum, mashed potato delight!!

Another funny thing that happened this week was that Mike brought home a plastic beaded necklace for Mitchell to wear. He has been obsessed with it for weeks on end and loves wearing it around the house. Hopefully he's not the next Elton John, j/k. He's also really into the bouncy balls that we bought him for christmas.

So Mike is making plans to get his Series 7 license so that he can sell securities and also be an investment consultant for TD Ameritrade clients. Hopefully, he'll be able to get through the test and we can move on and he can be in sales again. Recently, he was made a customer service representative for his company and it's be a hard adjustment from sales to customer service.

Well, that is all for now.

And this is why the peanut butter ends up in the fridge.

So here I am, minding my own business, letting Mitchell throw diapers everywhere (he wanted to be in the box, some battles are just not worth fighting) and Mitch climbs on the couch. Which is a relatively new skill. I was excited. He just climbs right up, and my arms get a little break (he's 30 pounds already!) But today, he climbed on the couch, unlocked the front door, climbed off the couch, opened the door and...... I think I killed his dreams. As Mike said, my days just got 1000 times harder. So thankfully, while the handle doorknobs were a stupid idea, the chain lock is just right, though when Mike gets home, he won't be able to get in without me. Which feels so powerful.

But the good news, this week, is that Mitchell ate rice. Which is great. I wish he'd eat other things, preferably green. Meal time is such a pain. He's not keen into trying new things-at all. Actually, by this point green beans and zucchini do not qualify as a "new thing." But this rice thing has given me considerably more hope.

Church is aways something greatly planned for over here, because Mitchell doesn't usually sit quietly very long during sacrament, and knows very well that when he screams loud enough and long enough, I pick him up and take him out. And I think I'm doing this right, no toys, no running, he sits on my lap in the foyer. And he likes it. I cannot for the life of me understand, why a screaming energetic toddler would prefer sitting on mom's lap to reading books, the quiet book, toys, snacks, dad, a little more freedom. I mean really.

So after intense brainstorming with Mikey, we realize there are pictures of Christ in the foyer, which he'll look at, almost exclusively, point to and say "tada!" which is a generic word for "that" I think, since he'll point to anything living or not and say it. Or it's lazy for "what's that" but then occasionally I hear that too. Christmas time it sounded like "santa" but he couldn't possibly think everything in the world is santa....right? Plus, the nursery manual has a few pictures of Christ, and Mitchell LOVES them.

So me being the genius that I am, decided to convince Mike to go to the distribution center/deseret book and find pictures of the savior to put in some kind of book. That'll keep him quiet. And Mike's plan B was to suffer through one (hopefully) meeting and just let him scream. Which would probably work, but .... I don't think our wards wants to suffer along with us. And Mitchell is the only kid ever, EVER, screaming. And that's with 7 nursery aged kids, 8 almost nursery kids, and 12 three year olds.

Anyway, I thought, of course, that either of these places would have the pictures I wanted, in 8.5 X 11, so I could slip them in sheet protectors and a binder.

But no! The distribution center has humongous pictures, or pictures (8.5X11) for primary, so you get some good ones, and a lot of random families doing...family things. Next door is deseret book, they only had tiny pictures, and their 5X7's were 2 bucks a piece. (I would have compromised for a photo album. But not for 30 bucks. Plus, they were all greg olsen, which he's great, but I like the older ones too, if not more) So, no thank you.

So we walk back over to the distribution center, and they have a new gospel art book. With every picture you could ever imagine, spiral bound, for 3 dollars and 50 cents. Sweet. All the pictures to go along with the old testament, new testament, book of mormon, and doctrine and covenants. And all latter-day prophets, with some random pictures of families praying, paying tithing, etc. Double points for Family Night pictures for the rest of our lives. And out we go, thinking we're the smartest people ever.

Sunday? no. nope. did not work whatsoever. In fact, I think it made it worse. I am at a loss.