I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what it would be like to not sleep in the same bedroom as Babboo. Would it be weird to wake up in the morning and not have sleeping Babboo be the first thing I see?

I’ve been thinking about what it would be like to have kitchen drawers that aren’t broken. Or how it must feel to have a dishwasher that actually gets your dishes cleaner instead of dirtier.

I wonder what it would be like to have space enough for my child to run and play in. A place where he could set up his train set and leave it set up without fear of his mommy tripping over it and cursing it’s name. I wonder if Babboo would know what to do with this space, or if he’s been forever conditioned to only running in confined spaces, back and forth, back and forth.

I’ve also been thinking about what it must be like to be able to bathe your child in a bathroom where we can both fit in the room without the door being closed. Or maybe just a place to hang all of our towels on the wall. I’ve been thinking about how nice it would be to have a place where we could tuck Babboo’s toys in after he goes to bed. Or a shelf that would hold all of his books.

I wonder what it would be like to have to have a closet where I can keep my shoes. Or a place for extra bars of soap and tubes of toothpaste. Or our winter coats.

Heck, I wonder what it would be like to have a place to keep our stroller.

When we moved into our little one bedroom apartment it seemed perfect for us. Sure, it was much smaller then the three bedroom house we just sold, but it was only The King and I. Plus the apartment would be temporary. We’d only be there a short time. And like my mom always told me, you can live anywhere if you know it’s only temporary.

We knew we’d be bringing home our baby to the apartment. But dude, babies are small. They don’t take up any space. Having a baby in a one bedroom apartment would not cramp our style.

Plus, it’s only temporary. Until the new house is finished.

Can you believe it’s been over two and a half years since we moved into our one bedroom apartment? Our once tiny baby is now two years old. He has no idea what it’s like to have a place to keep his toys and books. He’s never had his own bedroom to go to at night. He’s never eaten a meal at home with his mom and dad at the table. The concept of multiple bathroom is lost on him.

As far as Babboo knows, tiny hallways are synonymous with playrooms. Apartment lobby’s are where you go to play with your bouncy calls. He thinks all houses have elevators and pools and that mommy’s do the laundry in laundry rooms located on different floors. He thinks you get your mail from a slot in the wall and not out of a mailbox on the street.

Babboo also thinks that daddy’s are always working and aren’t usually home for dinner or bath nights. He thinks mommy’s always cook dinner and do the dishes and daddy’s are only home in the morning before taking him to school. He thinks the only day you can stay in bed and snuggle mommy and daddy is on Sundays, when daddy doesn’t have to work.

I’ve been thinking a lot about all of this lately because this week something happened that we’ve all waited a long time for.

We’re giving notice at our apartment.

That’s right, in a few week’s we’ll actually be living in The (New) House The King Built. We’ll wake up, together, every morning and go to bed, together, ever night. And by “together” I mean, all of us in our own rooms. (Well, The King and I will still be rooming together. You know what I mean.)

It looks like it’s finally going to happen. And frankly, I can’t wait. It’s an exciting time for our little family. Big changes are a foot.

You know how we bought a fancy camera back when Babboo was born? Yeah, you probably don’t know since we don’t fully know how to utilize all the awesomeness of our fancy camera.

This weekend, while away for a well-deserved over-night excursion, we tried to use the fancy “timer” option that our fancy camera has always taunted us with.

“Oh, we can finally take a picture of all of us together for the interweb!” The King proclaimed and he pushed the timer button and prepared for a family picture to treasure for years to come.

And then we tried again and again to get a picture of us enjoying our snuggle time in the hotel room. Eventually we just gave up on the snuggle-time family picture.

The next morning, before heading out to breakfast, we tried for a family picture. Again. This time, instead of on the bed, we opted for the couch in the hotel room.

We weren’t too successful with the “family on the couch” picture either. Although The King did manage to get this lovely picture of the carpet in the hotel room.

Oh great, we are all actually in this picture. (I mean, our suitcase is also in the picture. But whatever, it’s a nice suitcase.)

The King was now confident in his skillz with the timer function. Now if he could only figure out how to focus. Hey, that’s hard. You have to twist the little thing on the front of the camera. It’s very technical.

After we got back home, I decided to try to figure out the timer and get a few shots of Babboo and me. You know, for posterity.

Crap, maybe this whole “timer” thing is harder then it looks.

Oh crap, and so is the whole “in focus” thingy. Especially when used in conjunction with the timer setting thingy.

Great. I finally get both the timer and the focus to work simultaneously. But Babboo choses to cock-block me and totally steal the shot.

Oh yes, the kid is not impressed with any of my mad camera skillz.

And let’s be honest…neither will any of you.

So tell me, what percentage of your pictures are as awesome as mine?

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Did you miss the Old 97’s on the Tonight Show last Thursday? (Let’s not talk about how lame my DVR was and how it only got ONE MINUTE of the performance). Anyway, go HERE to watch the Old 97’s in all their glory. Feel free to watch it over and over and over again. I did.

Sometimes I get selfish and forget to keep the internet in the loop of what’s going on in my life. Um yeah, that’s what happened last week. I sort of forgot to tell you that my folks were coming to Seattle to help celebrate Babboo’s second birthday.

We partied like he was turning twenty one. (Or maybe just three.)

The last four days will forever be known as Babboo’s Birthday Extravaganza Weekend. It started on Thursday night with a Birthday dinner at the local Red Robin. (Hey, I figured that was the only kid-friendly place we could all agree on.) There were about 11 of us and I’ll tell you what, it was loud. And fun. And Babboo got spoiled.

I took Friday off work (Praise the Lord!) and spent the day in the city with my folks. Babboo took this opportunity to sit Grandma down and show her all the things he’s been wishing for in the latest Toys R Us catalog. (Which, at our house, is referred to as “train book”. Even though only 2 of the 20 pages have actual trains on them.)

That night, which was Babboo’s actual birthday, The King and I sent my folks over to my aunt’s house, and just the three of us went shopping for a special gift for Babboo and a little dinner out.

We came home, bellies full of Mongolian food, the proud owners of a huge train set for our little birthday conductor. (Side note #1: the plan was for Babboo to give up his “sucker” on his 2nd birthday. Plans are in motion.) Thanks to Babboo’s relentless study of the “train book” we knew that Toys R Us was having a killer sale on trains. Killer sale. We could not refuse. And now, our tiny apartment doubles as a train station.

Good times.

(Side note #2: Last night, we had to take the train out and put it in the trunk of the car. If we wouldn’t have, our poor kid would have never gone to bed. Or eaten dinner. He’s addicted.)

(Side note #3: What is it with little boys and train sets these days? Seriously. I don’t remember my brothers caring about trains at all.)

Saturday, we dropped Babboo off at a friends house and painted some trim over at the new house. My folks, and even my aunt, came to help. My mom and aunt are great painters. My dad, alas, is not. I spent my time following behind him and fixing his paint drips. But, you know what, I didn’t even care. I was just happy to have them there helping.

And then we went to my cousin’s indoor soccer game. I would have much rather stayed at my aunt’s house and crocheted. But I’m glad I didn’t, since Babboo seemed to really enjoy seeing “kick ball”.

(Side note #4: My aunt is a freakin’ hard worker. I may have to ask her to come help us some more.)

(As per my usual M.O., I spent the entire meet event game taking pictures of myself. I allowed Babboo and my aunt to be in the pictures so I didn’t look like a complete tool taking pictures of just me.)

After the game we hit up Jamba Juice, Dairy Queen, and a local Mexican restaurant. In that order. Hey, I told you it was a Birthday Extravaganza Weekend.

Sunday arrived, and so did more parties with family. More gifts…

…and more dessert.

Pretty much, Babboo’s Birthday Extravaganza Weekend rocked. Not only for my Sweet Babboo, but for me too.

I’m back to work today, the tired mom of a two year old (two!). Crap, where did the time go?

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Remember when I asked you if I should cut bangs? Head over to see what my latest New Thing is! (Hint…it’s bangs.)

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Remember how I love the Old 97’s (Rhett Miller is their lead singer)?! Well, since they have a new album coming out on May 13th (my birthday!), they are scheduled to be on the Tonight Show this Thursday, the 24th to promote it! Now is your chance to give them a watch/listen and see/hear what the hype is all about. So set your Tivo’s/DVR’s for this Thursday. I mean it, you must watch this.

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So you didn’t win my gDiaper give-away? No problem, SeattleMomBlogs is having another give-away in honor of Earth Day. So head over and enter to win!  (SeattleMomBlogs is doing loads of fun give-aways this week, so keep checking back with them!)

When she was a senior in high school, my mom started taking classes at the local community college to become a stylist beautician. As soon as my mom graduated from hair design school beauty school , she left her small town and moved to an even smaller town and set up shop at the local salon beauty parlor. My mom enjoyed doing hair and really loved her new career.

What she didn’t like is that she ended doing “sets” for all the older ladies in town.

My mom quickly moved to a big city and got a job at a nicer parlor. And then she met my dad, got married, got pregnant, quit her job and stayed at home with her kids. While my mom is still a licensed beautician, she hasn’t worked in a salon in over 35 years. But she has continued to do hair.

No family vacation was ever taken without my mom bringing along the little blue velvet bag she made that housed all of her hair supplies. She needed these supplies so she could cut the hair of all my aunts, uncles, cousins, and so she could set my grandma’s hair. (My mom is coming out to visit next week, and I can promise you she’ll bring her scissors with her.)

My mom gave me my first hair cut right after my third birthday. She clipped my hair up with the same clips she uses today. I sat on the kitchen table and tried not to cry as she cut off my long hair. I would wear that same “Dorothy Hamil Wedge” cut until middle school. (And by the looks of this picture, so did my older brother!)

The summer before 5th grade, my mom gave me my first (and only) perm. She only permed my bangs and I loved it. She also gave my older brother a perm, after months of him begging for curls in his hair. I was about twelve year old when my mom first showed me how to henna my hair. My mom’s the one that cut 6 inches off my (way too) long hair, just in time for the Preference Dance my junior year. My best friend Marci stood by her side and offered her support. (Love the bow in your hair, Marci!)

During the summer months my mom would line up my dad, brothers and all my guy friends and cut their hair under our carport. In the winter, this ritual would take place in our kitchen. I don’t think any of the neighborhood boys ever had to pay to get their hair cut, as long as they were friends with me.

I was about 21 when I went to a salon and had my first professional hair cut. By that age I demanded more of a styled cut, which was something my mom wasn’t confident doing. I forked over my $20 for the hair cut and never looked back. From time to time, in a pinch, my mom’s trimmed my hair, or helped me with a color. She still cuts my dad and uncle’s hair, and my grandma loves it when my mom does her set. Over the years my mom’s saved us all a lot of money with her at-home cuts. She’s also given me a lot of fun memories.

It makes me a little sad that my mom wasn’t here last weekend to give Babboo his very first “big boy haircut”. I would have rather seen her arms in this picture then the barber’s hairy arms.

Babboo will have plenty more hair cuts in his lifetime, and more chances for my mom to continue on with the tradition of at-home family hair cuts.

But until then, well, The King and I are still trying to get used to this new little guy with the Owen Wilson inspired do. But we’re the only ones, since Babboo’s loving his new hair cut.

So tell me, do you remember who cut your hair when you were a little kid?

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And if you haven’t yet, you have until FRIDAY to enter to win my gDiaper give-away. Even if you aren’t in the need for flushable diapers, Gdiapers make great gifts. So enter today. And tell your friends to enter!

Did this week’s “Biggest Loser” blow your mind? I know I was shocked. Head over to WeHeartTV to read what I have to say about this week’s episode and next week’s season finale.

Twice a year the LDS (Mormon) church holds a world-wide conference for all of it’s members. It’s called General Conference, and it’s typically held in April and October every year. General Conference is held at the (newly built) Conference Center in Salt Lake City, Utah. While the Conference Center seats over 21,000 people, that isn’t enough. Plus, most Mormons don’t even live in Utah. (Shocking, I know!)

General Conference is meant for all members of the the LDS church to attend. But dude, we all can’t travel to Utah twice a year to do so. Because of this, all of the four two-hour sessions of Conference are broadcast via the internet, radio, and television. That’s right, anyone can watch them from the comfort of their own home. (Check your local cable listings for BYUTV.)

Being as I’m a member of the LDS church, I look forward to General Conference weekend. Normal Sunday church isn’t schedule, and instead we stay home to watch Conference on TV. It’s a time when we to listen to the wonderful messages from our Prophet, and other leaders of the church. They tell stories, teach doctorine, and share their testimonies.

The icing on the cake is that you get to do this all on your couch, in your jammies.

As a child, I admit, participating in General Conference wasn’t as anticipated. In fact in my family we commonly referred to Conference weekend as “church vacation”. It was the weekend we could pack up the trailer and head down to Zion National Park, or some other camp ground. We didn’t have regular church on Sunday, so we weren’t needed to teach our Sunday school classes (or any other responsibilities my parents might have had).

Plus, if we missed what was said during Conference, we could always catch the archives that were published later. (Check out all the languages Conference is translated into. Dude, I don’t know what language “Shqip” or “Hmoob” are, but I think it’s amazing that the LDS church is so prolific in languages.)

I’m not sure how old I was when I first realized that hey, Conference is pretty freakin’ cool! I’m not sure when, or why, the change happened, but I’m glad it did. No longer do I think of Conference weekend as a “church vacation”. I don’t think about where we can go that weekend. Instead, I’m excited about what messages will be shared with me. I look forward to being taught by amazing people, who have been called to be messengers of the Lord. I want to know what they have to say. I want to feast on their words.

Now that I have a toddler, who demands my attention, it’s a little harder to devote 8 hours of a weekend to watching a talking head on the TV. Unfortunatly, looking at this for 8 hours will not hold Babboo’s attention like it will mine:

During the weeks leading up to the latest General Conference I received about 12 million e-mail forwards all containing the same thing; an activity packet to help kids be a little more entertained during Conference. I reluctantly printed out the packet, even though I knew it wasn’t for someone Babboo’s age. I figured, at the least, he would enjoy coloring the word-searches and hidden picture games.

Babboo ended up really enjoying the Conference activity packet. He colored on the pages of past prophets of the LDS church. He even got out his paper punch (which he refers to as “scissors”) and made a few little hole punches. By the looks of this picture, Harold B. Lee seems to be his favorite.

While the activity pack did hold Babboo’s attention, for a bit, it also, surprisingly enough, held my attention. I loved the pages which allowed me to take notes of what the different people spoke on. Plus, I got to color the little ties to match the ties they were wearing. (Too bad I don’t have a color scanner at work!)

Okay, so I didn’t take too many notes, and I did miss a few of the speakers. But that’s only because I got caught up on my ironing. And it’s pretty hard to iron and take notes at the same time.

That’s okay, I can always catch the archives.

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Don’t forget to enter my gDiaper give-away, for a chance to win some of their awesome flushable diapers. Just leave a comment on THIS POST.

And did you see my latest New Things post about using Monistat gel as a foundation primer, for your face? Readers are using it and reporting back in the comments (and via e-mail). General consensus? It rocks.

I shared with you last week all about how The King and I are now using flushable diapers for Babboo. We love gDiapers and all that they stand for! We feel better knowing that Babboo’s diapers won’t sit in a landfill for a gazillion years, and instead will biodegrade in 50 days.

Plus, look at how cute they are!

gDiapers are the best of cloth and disposable in an earth-friendly hybrid diaper. They consist of a reusable, cloth outer pants (called the “little g”) and a plastic-free refill that you can FLUSH (or compost, or just throw away). gDiapers are very breathable, so Babboo’s little tushy stays drier (which is helping with his diaper rash). The gDiapers flushable refills contain no plastic, no elemental chlorine, no perfumes, no inks or dyes, no latex, and best of all, no guilt!

I know a lot of readers are interested in what the cost comparison between gDiapers and other diaper systems is. gDiapers cost about the same as other alternative disposables. Yes, they are slightly more expensive ($3-4 more per week) then mainstream disposables, but really, isn’t a happy planet worth a few dollar a week?

Seriously, how can you not feel good about helping the planet?!

Good news for those of you who are anxious to try gDiapers, but not sure where to start, because this week….

That’s right, I’m giving away one gDiapers Starter Kit, which includes: 2 “little g” pants (Babboo has golden orange and genuine vanilla bean), 10 plastic-free, flushable refills, a swishstick and a H.U.G (handy user’s guide).

To enter this give-away, just leave a comment on this post. You have until Friday at midnight (PST) to post your comment. The winner will be announced on Monday the 14th.
Good luck, and remember, even if you don’t have a need for diapers, gDiapers make a wonderful gift.