Picture a Christmas

Once upon a time, I flew home for Christmas. Just like I do err year. I was greeted at the airport by my cute (suddenly giant) family.

And then, I gained 30 pounds.

And Jacob grew 30 inches.

And we all froze to death.

And so did Sarah's American Girl doll magazines. We found them in the freezer.

Then, I made some really fantastic potato soup. It was so fantastic, I cried a little about it.  (Although that could have also been the onions that I cut....)

"Julie. I am so happy to share with you, because you shared with me. ......Nicole lied." - Nicole

"What do I know? I'm just a fat old man with jowels." - a very self-pitying Dad

*everyone listening to "I want you to rock me" by One Direction, when Dad comes and turns it off*
Jo: Dad! We were listening to that!
Dad: I've been rocked enough!

"He has nose hairs?? How does the man survive!" - Dad

This year is looking like it's going to be pretty good already :) We miss you, Delly!

There Goes the Farter

Once upon a time, some fellas who call themselves the Gym Class Heroes made up a beautiful song called "The Fighter." They invited a guy named Ryan Tedder to sing with them. They inspired at least 3,190,981 people.

 

And then, a nice little family in Maryland ruined it. They were standing around, eating ice cream one night after one (baby) sister had been particularly flatulent, and one of them started playing this song. Except, they sang it like this:

"Until the referee rings the bell
Until both your butt cheeks start to swell
Until the crowd goes home
What we gonna do ya'll?

Give em smell, turn their heads
Gonna live life til we're dead.
Give me scars, give me pain
Then they'll say of me, say of me, say of me
There goes the farter, (oooh-oooh-oooh!)
There goes the farter (oooh-oooh-oooh!)
Here comes the farter (oooh-oooh-oooh!)
That's what they'll say of me, say of me, say of me,
This one's a farter."


And that's not even all. This irreverent family made up a dance to go along with it. And then one of them blogged about it. 


Oh, that was me. Sorry this is the second post in a row that deals with farting. I'll try to be more mature. 

The Mysterious Smell

I know I blogged barely 4 seconds ago, but I don't have a job right now, so I'm going to blog again. Just so you know how things go around here, the following conversation just happened.

I was in the kitchen, eating breakfast with Dad. Jacob was in the hallway getting ready for his wilderness survival solo camp-out that he's going on tonight. Mom was helping him. Sarah was wandering around being pretty. Jacob lit a safety match to test one out. 

Dad: Oh Jacob! Man! 

Jacob: It's just a match, Dad. 

Dad: My gosh. I mean, did you light that thing and then fart? And then wave it around?

Jacob: No....

Dad: Uh-huh, sure you didn't. 

Sarah came in the kitchen. 

Sarah: Oh man, what is that smell?

*For the record, I thought it smelled like fire, nothing abnormal for a match, but apparently everyone else thought it was super-stinky.*

Me: Dad farted. 

Sarah: Ohhhh, Dad!

She walked away, looking disgusted. 

Dad: Sarah, that's not true, now, Heather's lying. 

Sarah: Yeah right, Dad. 

Dad: Jacob came in here and lit a match and that is what the stink is, not me! I didn't fart!

But of course, Sarah was gone, so Dad turned to me. 

Dad: Now Heather, you lied about that. You lied just now! I didn't fart. 

I just laughed and continued eating my waffle. In the other room, we heard Sarah talking to Jacob. 

Sarah: Jacob, did you light a match just now?

Jacob: No, that was Dad's fart.

Dad: Hey, now that's two of you who are lying! Now I didn't fart! And you guys know that!

But we all remembered that one time long ago yesterday when Dad said to me: "You know what's nice about having an office with a screen door?" He stepped outside and stretched his arms wide. "You can always step outside and feel the breeze." And then, he let out the hugest fart ever. "You can even make your own breeze!" he continued enthusiastically. 

I was upstairs before he came back inside. 

So even after I admitted to Sarah that actually we had lied and Jacob really did light a match, we all still wondered if the stink from the match was actually a stink from the match mixed with a stink from something (or someone) else. 

A Grand Old Flag

Everyone celebrates Flag Day in their own way. Here's how one frozen yogurt shop, Top It Fro Yo, chose to celebrate: 

Here's how we chose to celebrate in my family. I invited everyone in for dinner. This is what the table was set like:

Not everyone had a good attitude about it. 

Julie asked if we were in the Great Depression. Dad thought it was hilarious. He took pictures of the table setting and had everyone smile and hold up their food. Here's the conversation that followed: 

Dad: Everyone smile! *Camera click*

Julie: I hope you captured my disgruntled expression. 

Heather: Stop making fun of my meal! It'll all be worth it when you try the tea I made. 

Julie: We're seriously having tea and crackers?? I thought that was a joke!

Heather: It's a really cool tea. It's mint vanilla. I saw it on Pinterest. It just took a little longer to make than I thought it would so I didn't have time to make scones. 

Dad: I think this is great! My college daughter's got me on a diet! 

Mom: Let's pray. 

We prayed. I stood to pour the tea, at the same time teaching some etiquette things. Julie angrily chomped away at her crackers. 

 When I got to Mom, she said:

Mom: Wait! Is this British tea?

Heather: Yes. It is a special kind of....

Mom: Then I can't drink it! 

She stoutly turned her cup upside-down. 

Heather: But - ! I worked really hard on it!

Mom: I am an American! I will not drink British tea! Sarah!!! Put that down!

Sarah: I think it's kinda good.....

Mom: No! I will not drink this! I revolt! This is a revolution!

Julie: Yeah! I don't want tea and crackers for dinner! I'm starving!

I slumped my shoulders. "Alright," I sighed, and went over to the oven. "I guess we can just have these dumb ol' things." I set a platter of Belgian waffles on the table. Everyone rejoiced. 

 

We had a great dinner of Belgian waffles, syrup, whipped cream, strawberries, blueberries, and blackberries. We had a special guest sing the National Anthem.

We had a contest to guess how many official flag designs there have been. We had a contest to see who could design the best American flag with their waffle. We apologized for the historical inaccuracy of our little skit at the beginning of the dinner.

If anyone is interested in the recipe for the vanilla mint tea, here it is:

2 cups hot water
1/4 tsp vanilla extract
3 drops green food coloring
1 drop blue food coloring
2 drops yellow food coloring
3 mint leaves sprinkled on top of the tea as decoration

Serve with sugar and coffee creamer.

Please note: this is not a real recipe. I just threw it together for the purpose of this meal.....which was a joke. And for the record, Mom and Sarah were both supposed to revolt, but Sarah actually liked the tea so she just skipped out on her part. And Dad and Julie were totally unsuspecting and they played their parts perfectly :)

Cookies and Karma

I've heard that when you come back home after an extended absence, no matter what you learned while you were living by yourself, you fall back into the same habits you were in at the time that you first left home.

For example, if you always slept in, and expected your mom to wake you up, you might start doing that again. Even if you had a 6:00 AM custodial job while you were gone. If you used to bicker constantly with your siblings, you might find yourself getting frustrated by everything they do. Etc.

Now, I've never been someone who bickers constantly with my siblings, but I have to admit that I have felt my maturity sliding backwards ever since coming home. Also, I am perfectly capable of feeding myself while at college, but for some reason, when I come home, it is so hard to get up and get myself a snack. I usually just get one of my siblings to do it for me.

Just yesterday, I was working on a school project that was due in a matter of hours. One of my sisters was looking at facebook and tumblr and YouTube, "prepping" herself for the crushing disappointment she had come to associate with job-hunting before she jumped back into the fray of online applications. My tomach rumbled. I made a little plea for some food. Sister refused to help. This cycle repeated itself several times.

......An hour later, I got up and got myself some food.

A few hours after that, Sister and I had both relocated to her room upstairs. By this time, my project was due in 45 minutes. Sister was hanging up clothes. There was a knock on the door. Sister and I both ignored it, hoping the other would get it. The knocker continued knocking insistently.

"Sister??" I asked incredulously, as if my supremely granted right to lounge about at all times somehow took precedence over hers.

"It's probably a salesman anyway," she said.

The knocking was way too quick and little-fisted to be a salesman. She knew it as well as I did.

"Sister! That is obviously not a salesman! Why are you being such a brat!" I stomped out of the room and ran down the stairs, where someone was still knocking. Sister slammed the bedroom door after me.

It was not a salesman who was knocking (thank goodness, since I still hadn't put on my makeup). It was a little boy from across the street who had borrowed a cup of sugar from us earlier to make cookies. Now he stood on our porch, holding a plate of cookies.

"Neighbor!" I greeted him. "Did you make these?" He nodded. He looked a little confused. I think he didn't recognize me, since I'm usually at college, and he was worried he had gotten the wrong house. But then I called him by name and he got even more confused.

"They look great!" I said. He handed me the plate, nodding. I noticed the marshmallows and chunks of Hershey's chocolate on top of the cookies. "Are they s'mores cookies?" I asked. He nodded, eyes wide. "You did a good job," I said, smiling. He nodded. "I can't wait to taste them!"

He nodded. "Okay, well.....see ya later!" I said. He nodded and continued standing there. "Alright thanks!" I said, and backed up a little. He started to turn around so I slowly closed the door and brought the cookies to the kitchen.

"Karmaaaa!" sang a little voice in my head. "I am getting what I deserve," I told myself smugly. "Sister doesn't get a cookie because she was too lazy to answer the door."

I took a cookie and bit into it. I danced around the kitchen a little. "I'm going to finish this here," I decided, "and when Sister asks who was at the door, I'm going to tell her. And she'll have to come downstairs and get her own cookie."

I had barely taken my third bite when my feet started carrying me to the stairs. A better plan was forming. I would take my cookie up there and eat it in front of her. And then I would probably get some crumbs in her bed, and everyone hates crumbs in their bed.

Wouldn't you know it, I tripped on the first step. My cookie landed on the stair, marshmallow-side-up.

"Karmaaaaa!" sang a little voice in my head. "I am getting what I deserve," I thought sadly.

So Sister got a cookie, too. And no one got crumbs in anyone else's bed. And I turned my project in on time. And I'm pretty sure Sister is going to get an awesome amazing job, so it looks like everything works out in the end, all pettiness aside.

Tell the World I'm Comin Home

I like this place. I really do! And I like my friends here, and I'm having fun times and stuff. But here's another place I like:

And I'm going there! Tomorrow! I've been packing and cleaning for three days straight, also sporadically through the last two weeks. I shoved my bedding, rain boots, a box, and a set of drawers in the hall closet at Singletree. I put 2 suitcases, 4 huge boxes, half of my clothes, and another set of drawers in a friend's closet. I packed two suitcases and a backpack to bring home. And I think I am finally ready!

Everyone has been asking what I'm going to do for a month in Maryland. Here's a TO DO list:

1. Hang out with the fam.
2. Go to lunch with the cute dad.
3. Make dinners with real people food.
4. Visit all my elementary school teachers and get advice!
5. Meet Lerone. (He's so hot and I can't wait to see him in person....)
6. Go to Rita's.
7. Eat froyo with the Jew.
8. Have sister sleepovers with the Jew and the Care Bear.
9. Play basketball with the broders.
10. BEAT THEM!
11. Learn all the sports. Since I'm going to be a PE teacher and it's crunch time, guys.
12. Road trip to Tennessee with Caitlin where we will drink lemonade and meet every cowboy that even exists on the East Coast.
13. Beach??
14. Get all ready to be a teacher.
15. Attend the DC 2nd ward.
16. Go to Jared's pool.
17. Go to institute? We'll see....
18. Do a sleep deprivation study. Also miscellaneous other studies.
19. Drive to Ohio and be an EFY counselor for a week.
20. Then drive 28 hrs in 36 hrs back to Utah. Blech.

I love how Baltimore looks from the sky. It's all, Oh hey Heather, we missed you! And I'm all, Listen, I missed you too! Because as much as I love Utah, I do miss being home. Who says you can't go home?? I don't. I say I can. So peace out, Utah! See you in a month :)

The Downside

Let's start with the upsides:

1. I now have more friends in Provo than I can count on one hand. Which is more than I felt like I could say two weeks ago! But it's true!

2. Said friends and I have fun times. We do things like going to art museums, sitting all in the front seat so no one has to be alone in the back, attending rodeos, exploring Salt Lake City, going to concerts, eating yummy foods, going to fundraisers, watching The Bachelorette.....etc.

with Christine at the art museum!

with Nicool at Memory Park in SLC!

No, we do not want to kick it in the backseat. Obviously we all have to sit in the front seat together!

at the rodeo! with some Utah friends and a sister imported from Idaho :)

3. I discovered a new family! There are 4 boys in this family, 13, 16, 18, and one on a mission. I am in LOVE with this family! They live in a cowboy house. They have saddles on the banister. They have horses. They call me their sister because apparently I look like I'm related to them. The boys are so cheeky and funny. Their grandpa made a joke about what a good lover he is. The dad told me I could ride his horses. I believe him. 

3. My classes are almost over! As in, the last college classes I will ever have to take. Woo baby woo!

4. I met a cute tan boy today, and a cute hipster boy. And I talked to both of them. And then I got 3 mysterious nice notes from boys.

5. I just discovered a great pool where I can lay out. It is very unpopular, which is exactly the kind of pool I appreciate.

Now for the downside: I am actually going to miss all of these things when I go home in a few days. Don't get me wrong, I could write an entire other blog on how excited I am to go home! (And I probably will, soon.) I recognize that this downside is a blessing in and of itself, that I am even a little sad to be leaving all of these things.

Which is why I still believe I am the luckiest girl :)

You might be in the Connor home if....

-All of your clothes are suddenly covered in birdseed.

-You wake up to find that your suitcases have been opened and rummaged through and borrowed from.

-The 17-yr-old is wearing the 9-yr-old's boots.

-The 9-yr-old is wearing the 21-yr-old's dress.

-"Mr. Grinch" counts as Sunday music.

-Rita's counts as it's own food group.

-Saying "chum chum" is acceptable if you forget the lyrics to any song.

-Your life could be a musical.

-Winnie is revered and Steve Johnson is forgotten.

-Your siblings are compared to happy porcupines when they sing.

-Someone is giving someone else a wedgie.

-There is a shrine for Philip Johnson on the fridge.

-There are 4 bathrooms and that is NOT ENOUGH

-Someone is wearing a hoodie as pants.

-Getting up to turn off the hall light is way too hard. Yelling for 10 minutes for Nicole to do it is a much more reasonable situation.

-There is only one mature adult figure present at any given time. They may or may not be you.

-"We're leaving at 12:30" means "We're leaving at 12:15" means that we leave at 12:45.

-You hear "Coming Home" 3,158 times a day.

-And you are not happy about it.

-The real meaning of Christmas is VENgeance!

-Three people sleep in one bed. One person gets 90% of the blankets.

Is there any mystery left as to why I love coming home? :)

Current Events in the Connor Home

I would like to transcribe, as close to the truth as I can remember it, the conversation at our dinner table tonight, starting after the prayer over the food.

Dad: Alright, Sarah I know you had your eyes open for the prayer, so you are going to get served last.

Sarah: (Moan of disappointment).

Dad reached across the table and pulled the lasagna away from Sarah, placing it in front of himself. Suddenly his motives for punishing Sarah became all too clear. I reached across the table and pulled the lasagna away from him. Sometimes exacting justice becomes the duty of average citizens. I served myself and then passed it along to neither Sarah or Dad.

Joseph: I have been finding a lot of nibbled-on cheese sticks all around the house. And I don't, like, it.

Dad: (eyes bugging) Yes! Do you know who's doing that? (points accusingly at Sarah.)

Sarah: What!

Dad: Sarah, let me ask you something. Who is the one who takes a bite of an apple and then leaves it there?

Joseph: And, who took two bowls of macaroni and cheese and only ate half of one?

Sarah: (looks guiltily at her plate).

Jacob: And who eats all the Jasmine rice?

Sarah: ....that was you, Jacob!

Jacob: Oh. Yeah.

Dad: I have a solution for this. From now on, Sarah, you are only allowed to eat at mealtimes. No snacks for you!

Sarah's mouth dropped open in shock.

Mom: You know, Sarah did something really nice today.

She went on to tell a story about a conversation Sarah had on the phone with one of her friends. She had told her all about FHE and how our family does it. At this point in the story, everyone else had been served, so Sarah was allowed to get her lasagna.

Dad: (interrupting Mom) Hey hey Sarah!

Sarah: I know, Dad!

Dad: Only get how much you're going to eat.

Mom: .....So then, Sarah asked if we could invite her friends over for FHE and I said we could one time.

Sarah sat there, beaming. Finally, someone was saying something nice about her.

Joseph and Jacob: What!! No! (Cries of outrage.)

Mom: I think that was really nice.....

Joseph: Mom, NO. They are not going to invade our house again. They are always over here! They like, lived here last year!

Dad: Sarah, I have another thing I need to talk to you about. I think it's fine that your friends want to call you and talk to you. And I think that's nice that you talk to them on the phone. But I am not going to be your little answering service.

Sarah: Why is everyone being so mean to me tonight??

Dad: No one's being mean to you!

Sarah: No snacks, no friends, no phone calls.....

Mom (anxious to say something positive about Sarah): I think that was a really nice thing that Sarah did tonight. We can just have her friends over while you guys are at, Scout Camp. Or something.

Dad (anxious that his point has not been driven home): Ok! That's fine! But for now on, I'm not going to answer that phone anymore. When it rings, and someone's calling on that 2nd line, I'm going to let it ring. (Five more minutes of that. Mom finally cut him off.)

Joseph (for some reason trying to keep this conversation going): But! What if it's a stranger and they come and kill me?

Mom: Awesome.

Heather: All the better.

Mom: How about, everyone says something that they learned today.

Jacob: I learned, that I was constipated today.

Disgusted looks in his direction.

Sarah: What's constipated?

Heather: Do you want to know?

Sarah: Ooooh.....no.

Dad: Alright now, I learned something today. Do you guys know what a current is?

A few people made some feeble guesses. Distraction quickly prevailed. I have no idea what Dad said next; it was something about electric currents. I started listening again when he said,

Dad: So, for the next 24 hours, no one in this house is going to use anything that requires electricity.

Mom looked at him sideways, quickly decided that this wasn't something that needed to be taken seriously, and went back to eating.

Julie: What! Dad!

Her voice strained as she listed off the things that she had to do in the next 24 hours that would require electricity. She alone seemed affected by this declaration. Everyone else continued eating in a distracted silence, having already decided that Dad wouldn't enforce his decision for even a half-hour. Maybe in a few months or years, when he'd had time to think it over, he would, but for now, it was an idle threat. Dad grinned, interpreting our quiet as tacit compliance.

Dad: Until you know what a current is. If you can come to me and tell me what a current is, you can use electricity.

He listed off two other words, but I can't remember what those were either. Julie argued with him a little bit more, just enough so that he felt powerful, but not so much that he got angry and really turned off the electricity.

Mom: Alright, can we go over the calendar?

Dad, who seconds before had been thrilled with the feeling of authority he had been building up all dinner, must have realized that going over the calendar would push him right off his new throne. He glanced around restlessly, looking for another mandate he could issue. The perfect opportunity was right at the end of the table, where Julie, who had just gotten up from a nap before dinner, was pushing uneaten hamburger meat around her plate.

Dad: Julie, you have to eat that. It's good stuff.

Julie's head snapped up, her eyes enraged.

Julie: Dad! I don't. Like. Hamburger meat!!!

Mom: Julie, can you go get the calendar.

Julie got the calendar. We made it through about a week and then everything dissolved again. Nothing can clear a room at our house faster than the promise of productivity, and we were whizzing through the calendar. By Saturday, May 21, the children had scattered.

How to Get a Date, Mormon Style.

Step 1. Be single.

Step 2. Make a passing comment to your sister or brother or mom about an unfamiliar face in church that belongs to a boy who might be about your age.

Step 3. Do nothing.

I'm serious. If you have followed steps 1 and 2 correctly, everything else will follow. Are you a little confused by the vagueness of the instructions in step 2? Don't fret. They are vague because it really doesn't matter what you say. As long as you do not give the impression that you were thoroughly disgusted by the newcomer, you have done all you need to do.

Here are a few examples of some things you might consider saying:

"Did you see that new boy sitting with the [insert family name here]s? I wonder where he's from."

or, "The boy across the aisle from us has kind of a long nose."

or, "That is a real nice tie that boy on the stand is wearing."

or, "Hmmm. I've never seen him before."

After you have performed this task, someone else will take over. Maybe it will be the lady with whom you team-teach in primary. Perhaps it will be the sister in your ward who once gave your mother a KitchenAid. Or the Young Women's leader who runs half-marathons every year for her birthday. And then again, it could be your own mother, in a burst of motherliness such as she deems appropriate for such a day as Mother's Day.

All I'm saying is, you can never be too careful. The sisters in the Relief Society love a good matchmaking sesh and they are an excellent team. Everyone knows everyone else, and everyone knows someone who is talented in just the right way or knows just the right piece of information about someone else. These ladies know who to direct their questions to. They know the numbers to call.

Don't worry if you suddenly discover that your Friday has been planned out for you. You can rest assured that the ladies of the Relief Society would never pair you up with an ineligible suitor. (At least not intentionally.)

You also shouldn't worry if your reputation precedes you, and suddenly you learn that you are not so humdrum as you may have thought. You may have been glorified a little bit in the matchmaking process. That's okay. Embrace it. So now you golf professionally? How nice! You are so crafty that everyone else agrees that you ought to open your own boutique? Well, why not. While you are busy with that, go ahead and congratulate yourself on your performance in the recent spelling bee. You world traveler, you.

PS. I just accidentally bought 3 new pairs of shoes, 2 pairs of boots for the winter and some canvas boat shoes for the summer. WAIT. I promise I haven't forgotten everything I learned from reading the Frugalista Files. The boots were on sale! And I got free shipping! And altogether, it only cost $54.40. What whatttt :)

It doesn't matter. Put your shirt down.

Things I love about being home:

1. sitting next to Dad when the primary kids sing in church

2. talking and playing and studying and laughing with Julie...she is so funny!

3. snuggling with Sarah

4. borrowing the brothers hoodies

5. making dinner with real ingredients

6. Mommy taking care of me when I'm sick

7. going to nursery and primary instead of Sunday School

8. being tanner than everybody else.....this has never ever ever happened!

9. getting paid $50 for the inconvenience of showing up at NIH only to be sent home because of a mishap with the scheduling

10. having this happen twice in three days, whatttt?? :)

I love Utah, and I am excited to go back in a few weeks. I LOVE Florida, and I miss it like crazy. Whenever I go back to school, I feel like I'm going home, and if I went to visit my friends in Florida, I would know how to get places and I wouldn't feel like a total tourist. But even though I don't necessarily want to settle down here, Maryland will always be my home home. I mean, I was born and raised here, so it seems only natural.

I love that first glimpse I get of Baltimore when I'm flying home at night, that glow of city lights. I love the trees along the highway and I love the racecar exit off of 29 on the way to the mall. I love JoJo and Reagan, and Cane, and even Delilah and Bob Delmont. I love Rita's.....is it bad that I've already gone three times? I love NIH. I love the valet parkers and the OP4 nurses and the MRI technicians.

Home is just so....homey. I'm a pretty adaptable person, so I can be happy and comfortable pretty much anywhere. Besides, I love new places and I get a little restless when I'm home for too long, but I'm so grateful that I have such a place as this where I can stop in every 4 months and recharge.