QUESTION.

Are these:



...too sexy for church?

Discuss.

Kid books that make me want to kill myself

Goodnight Moon



There's some underlying cult-like message in "Goodnight Moon," urging kids with the Donnie Darko bunny to murder their parents while they sleep. I mean pages declaring "Goodnight nobody" "Goodnight air?" Either mom needs to slap this furry bunny brat for employing some odd bedtime delay tactics or he needs some friends beyond "air." Of course, I somehow got FOUR of these as shower gifts and I'm continually trying to regift them to others who cry "'Goodnight Moon' - how wonderful! This is our tenth copy!" Not cool Margaret Wise Brown. Not cool.

Where's Spot



If you've never had the pleasure of reading "Spot," he's a dog that constantly runs away from his mom Sally and hides in random places. While Sally is trying to look for Spot, she opens doors and cupboards and looks under beds to only find a whole menagerie of animals lives in this freak zoo house and her puppy is probably hiding because he's terrified he's going to be eaten by the lion under the stairs or mauled by the monkey in the clock. Peanut loves opening all the little flaps and reading it like an angry German man, screaming "NEE!" instead of "No" at all the animals. I don't blame her - Sally needs to get animal control and health department to her house STAT.

I'm the Biggest Thing in the Ocean



This is one of those books that's good the first time...but by read 50? I'm dreading when Peanut waddles over with "Big" in her hands. It's a story of a giant squid who points out the obvious - he's bigger than a shrimp, clam, jellyfish, turtle. Turns out the squid is not the biggest thing in the ocean, it's a stupid whale who (spoiler alert!) eats the squid. Serves him right, conceited jerk.

Doggies



Anyone that reads this sounds like an idiot. The book goes through 10 dogs that bark differently - ruff ruff, yip yip, woof woof, nnn...nnn (WTF kind of dog is that?). Yet, still, after reading this dozens of times, ask Peanut what a dog says and she'll stick out her tongue and pant. Have you taught her nothing, Sandra Boynton?

All about Peanut



Proof that you can't, in fact, "Write a better children's book than half the crap that's out there." Yes, this is a book written and shot by the talented writer and photographer Amelia Nielson-Stowell. Self-published. Through one of those picture book sites. So the book actually costs more than any other children's book. For Christmas, I gave this book to Peanut all about her. That little narcissist - she skips right past the page with the well-written summary of how me and GJ met, looks over the page of pictures of her aunts and uncles with quips on how they love her - she stops to stare at pictures of herself. It's a book on my own kid and I'm already over it.

Life

In the midst of all the chaos and destruction in Haiti, I thought "What a perfect time to reflect on the petty things in my life that suck."

It's hard to be light-hearted and fun on your blog when you're nervous about things like "job," "cash flow," "crap insurance, don't anyone tell me health care reform is a bad idea." I find myself listening to a lot of sad indie music, wearing thick black eyeliner to mask my feelings, picking a cartoon character to pose ironically as my personal mascot and writing rambling entries in my emo diary journal.

I'd add an apology for not posting in the past, well, month, adding something sad and mysterious like "Life has gotten in the way," but who am I kidding? Everyone's busy. It's just priorities. This month I've managed to watch every episode of "The Bachelor" couchside with girlfriends (simultaneously making fun of the all-white, silicone cast), read a book on new-age feminism and teach my belly-button obsessed daughter that girl belly buttons make adorable "boop boop" sounds when you poke them, but boy belly buttons make ugly "BLURGH BLURGH" sounds when poked.

PARENTING. I'm really good at it.

Really, when it comes down to watching "Jersey Shore" or blogging, the fist pump and poof win out. Can you blame me? Pending anymore disgusting hookups (Snooki and The Situation anyone? EWWWW!), the goal is to post something of substance this week.

Until then - boop boop, OUT!

The Stowell Christmas newsletter

2010 - can you believe it's already here?! I feel like just yesterday I was sitting around the desktop with my family on Dec. 31, 1999 at 11:59 p.m., waiting for the computer to explode. And here we are, ready to start a New Year in the 801. We are SO BLESSED to be here today and to, well, own computers that haven't exploded.

This year has been A-MA-ZING. Our daughter, Peanut, is 15 months old and the most beautiful child you have ever seen (pictures attached!) - she's actually been approached by 3 talent scouts wanting to book her as a baby model. We've had to decline (we're just not ready to be in the spotlight or have that kind of paparazzi attention), but when she's 8 and ready to star in the third remake of "Parent Trap," we'll be ready - head shots, publicist, agent and all.

Speaking of Peanut, she is well ahead of her learning curve. At last count she was up to 60 words in English and 20 in Spanish - the average 1-year-old says 1-3 words in merely one language. Her pediatrician classified her as having a photographic memory. She's putting together phrases, like "Good morning mother!" when I get her up and "In my opinion, Barack Obama's health care reform is a human right's issue" when asked about her political views.

She has a full schedule, with baby yoga, GBOU (Gifted Babies of Utah) and her music classes. She's well on her way to being potty trained by March and she's doing her multiplication tables. It seems pointless to take her to any playgroup, as those other babies are just intellectually inferior to our doll.

GJ continues to bring home the bacon - and sausage and pork and ham and pig's feet and all sorts of pig-related byproducts. His boss told him yesterday "If you left the company, I'd kill myself," so there's that. We're planning on buying a bigger house this year with the money he's making. For now, we're trying to keep humble and stay in our '50s bungalow, but we'll be building a McMansion on the hill in no time.

Me, you ask? On top of caring for Peanut, working part-time and volunteering twice a week at the animal shelter, I'm *this close* to getting an article published in Harpar's Bazaar. It's a piece on modest fashion - expect to hear it quoted in April's General Conference.

Well family and friends, that is all for this year. I better get back to modge-podging a giant country star with Christmas-themed scrapbook paper and vinyl lettering an advent calendar. Opps - I just revealed your Christmas gift :)

Love: The Stowells

*Why yes I am making fun of Christmas newsletters. I actually debated sending this out because that would be pretty funny...it turned out to be too long for the card set I got. So I wrote a REAL one...I think it straddles the line of inappropriate, funny and braggy. I'm sending them out tomorrow, just in time to be lost and forgotten about in the post-Christmas mail. E-mail me your address if you want one.

The Christmas newsletter

I never thought I'd say this, but I'm thinking of writing one.

Oh how I love reading these - mostly to get updates on family and friends. Who am I kidding. I live for the bad ones. The 4-page brag-a-thons - I love making fun of those - my parents get some real doozies.

Over my years of reading and making fun of Christmas newsletters, I've learned a few things.

- Begin with a cliche phrase. Get a little more creative than "Merry Christmas" or "Happy Holidays." Throw in something along the lines of how "shocked" you are that a year has gone by and note what you're doing at that exact moment. "Here we are again, writing the annual family Christmas newsletter next to our decorated tree!"
- Brag, brag, brag. Don't just stick to a graduation or new baby. Your husband's Adult League Softball championship? Your kid's first poo poo in the potty? Your daughter's weekly piano, ballet and voice lessons? All milestones.
- Exaggerate. You gained 15 pounds? No, you ran a 10K and are training for a marathon. Your kid get a C-average? PLEASE, Honor Roll that in the newsletter.
- Don't be a Debbie Downer. Don't write about the sad stuff! It's Christmas, no one wants to read about lost jobs and dead relatives. If Jesus overcame adversity, so can you. Just keep it out of the newsletter. Remember: Your family is flawless.
- Plug your business. Let everyone know you host Mary Kay parties and just started a photography business. Bear your testimony on multi-level marketing.
- Your life is cool - so own it. Write about your roughly dozen vacations this year (include pictures), the new car you purchased, the big-ticket events you attended, the chance encounters with local celebrities. Don't be shy.
- When in doubt, write it out. YES everyone wants to know you were the first in line at your local theater for "New Moon"! YES your kid's mediocre violin recital should be mentioned! YES your lucrative calling as Sunday School president needs to be written about in painful detail! "Newsletter it" is your new motto.
- You most likely have not talked about your children enough. It's true - mention them some more. A page per child should suffice.
- End with a cliche phrase. You went the impersonal route and wrote a mass newsletter you are copying for everyone. So end with a sentence that makes your letter seem personal and like you actually care about the recipients well-being. In all reality, this is trite and meaningless. Something like: "May God bless you and yours!" or "We're hoping you have a safe and prosperous New Year!"

Now I fear I've ruined a newsletter for myself. What can I do to make one not so horrible?

Hey Santa, could you look dead in the face for this one?

Obligatory child screaming on Santa's lap picture!

O.

M.

Gosh!!!

So Peanut kind of hated Santa. Something about a perverted old guy watching her 24/7 to make sure she's "naughty or nice."

In a cruel twist of fate...*

...Peanut loves fast-food hamburgers.**


"Eatin' with half a tooth - holla!"


"NOM NOM NOM NOM NOM"


"Secret sauce, yo!"


"PROCESSED COW MMMM"

***
****
*****

*Random fact you don't care to know: I hate fast-food. Particularly burgers. I won't be a snob and refuse eating at such an establishment if that's where a social group chooses to eat, but I refuse to order a burger. I was hoping Peanut would inherit this. Read "Fast Food Nation" if you too would like to be turned off from this sect of dining.
**It was an In-N-Out burger, so at least the ingredients are a bit healthier than regular fast-food.
***GJ took her with her aunt and cousins (welcome to Utah, In-N-Out!), ordered her a burger, cut it up in little chunks and she wanted nothing to do with the little chunks - she grabbed the other burger half, shoved it in her mouth and somehow ate it with a mere half a tooth.
****Ew, I hate when parents talk for their kids. "1-year-old Jimmy says he wuvs you daddy!" But I couldn't resist with these photo captions - they screamed for some baby gangster talk.
*****Last footnote: thank you SIL Megan for the pictures.