Ambrosia Creative

Just an FYI for all you nursing moms: a quick lookup on Wikipedia for ‘lanolin’ reveals that it comes from sheep. Greasy, oily, woolly sheep. There’s no denying that this stuff works miracles, but I think I’ll stop using it on my lips.

(Yeahhhhh, I know. Another sleep post… Bear with me.)

Two years and a second baby later, I find history repeating itself. Except this time, I was driven out of the bedroom by a fussing baby and a snoring husband.

But I was pondering the other day at how being tired all the time affects me spiritually. For starters, all I want to eat when I’m exhausted are refined carbs. Especially baked goodies. And donuts. Mmmmmm. Worst of all, a craving for coffee would creep up on me (I drank coffee almost every day before I joined the church). A craving not to be indulged, of course—I’ve got more self-discipline than that!. But a yucky feeling comes over you when you’re not eating right and adhering to the “moderation in all things” precept that is the Word of Wisdom.

Secondly, when my sleep-deprivation is especially compounded, I get a little blue. And what better way to cheer yourself up than some online worldly coveting and retail therapy?!

Third, I totally drag in the mornings after a rough night. And the longer it takes me to leave the house, the faster (and ruder) I drive.

And lastly, scripture study is downright tedious when you’re fighting to keep your eyes open.

So there you have it. Prophets and church leaders aren’t kidding when they extoll the virtues of “early to bed, early to rise.” Except in my case, I don’t have much of a choice when I go to bed or when I wake up. I just hang on to the hope that this is a passing phase, lest I become an overweight, caffeine-wired mama who runs over dogs and schlepps around a huge, ugly Hermès Birkin bag.

Heat, crowds, energy, and too-loud music. That is what concerts are made of. We’ve gone way too long without, but tonight we got our fix.

I was really happy to be between two huge Mates fans that were seriously rocking out (which more than made up for the rest of the dead audience). What’s up with the kids not getting into the music, anyways? Whatevs, we still had a great time.

Now let’s hear some indie-goodness, shall we?

First things first: a little head-dipping in the pool. You know, just to cool things off. Initiated, of course, by Kai.

Then Sunday came, along with a 24-hour case of the stomach flu for me. We visited Ethan and Anna’s ward that morning to hear them speak. The weather finally began to clear up on Monday, family picture day. Yay (in a non-enthusiastic voice). After a ridiculously stressful photo shoot with one cranky toddler and one overtired and overstimulated baby (“Kai, KAI! Loooook at the frog! KAI! Here’s the ball, here’s the ball! Now throw it! Say cheese!! Kai, beHAVE, or no treat!!”), we all headed back to the house for some Memorial Day barbeque. Thank you sun, for gracing us with your presence.

Spent most of the day napping because I came down with the stomach flu. Any variety of a stomach/intestinal illness is THE. WORST. At least this round of stomach flu is nowhere near as bad as the excruciating bout of giardia I contracted a few years back (thanks, Mexico!), the pain of which rivaled natural childbirth. Ouch.

As irritating as this show is, I let Kai occasionally watch it. I think he relates to Diego. Brown boys must get other brown boys. For sure I’ll regret indulging him the day he asks to go to the live show. Hopefully, he can be easily persuaded to do this instead.