The Breastfeeding Office

Our single's ward shares a brand new building with only one other ward. My Relief Society President has deemed the mother's lounge as our office. That's where we hold our presidency meetings after church. Those who aren't familiar with mother's lounges are probably wondering why we would hold meetings where babies are fed and dirty diapers are changed. Two words: the chairs. They are comfy recliners, and everybody knows when you are in the service of your fellow man you are in the service of your God which means you deserve to serve from the comfort of a recliner.

Being the uber spiritual person I am, I decided that I need to put this scripture permanently in The Breastfeeding Office:

"And he hath brought us into this place, and hath given us this land, even a land that floweth with milk and honey." -Deuteronomy 25:9

I'm sure Honey Nut Cheerios in the diaper bag will count as the "honey" part.

It Can Kill You

My mom, Audrey and I were talking about carbon monoxide. Audrey asked what exactly it was, and we said it was an odorless, tasteless gas that had the potential to kill you. Audrey asked if you died a horrible death and we said no, it usually made people really sleepy and they would drift away into death (this is from what I remembered from watching that 911 Emergency show, did you ever watch it?). I then said "yep, I'm pretty sure I've been breathing in large quantities my whole life; hence why I'm so sleepy all the time."

You know, now that I type it, it's not nearly as funny. But I felt compelled to tell you. Speaking of that 911 Emergency show, II watched an episode as a kid of this boy who got his jacket stuck in the escalator and was almost crushed to death by the menacing steps of death. I hate escalators to this day. I was a very impressionable child. Due to TV, I also have an unhealthy fear of vents, killer bees and good looking men.

Obama Beats Jesus

Last night my dad was at the computer and says "What's that Justin kid's name?"
We said "Justin Bieber?"
"Yeah, that's him," dad says.
"What are you doing dad?"
"Oh, I'm seeing who has the most images on google."
"How many does Justin have?"
"Like 54 million. Give me some more names."
"Taylor Swift."
"24 million."
"Brad Pitt."
"Yeah, he went down, only 9 million"
"Jesus"
"Oh, he has 86 million."
"Obama."
"Yikes, he beat out Jesus with 121 million."

But don't despair. "God" came in with a whopping 268 million.

In more monetary news, I finally have posted my children alphabet letters. It has taken FOREVER. And I still only have one "V." I'm just hoping they sell. But I was super excited posting them. Check them out. Or don't.

And a big shout out to my friend Madison, who got home from her mission at the end of January and got engaged tonight. I'm going on 3 years and still trying to get on one date...

My Dad's Hoe

Last Sat the single's ward had a service project at a local elementary doing massive yard work. They said to bring shovels, gloves, hoes, rakes, etc., and because my dad has a lot of that stuff, I brought a good assortment of tools to help in the work. After leaving the project, and later on in the day, I realized I forgot Dad's hoe. Yes, I left Dad's hoe at the school. So I called the Bishop and said "I left my dad's hoe at the school. Do you know if it's still there?" Unfortunately, he had already left, as well as all the other workers. The next day at church he comes up to me and says "did you find your dad's hoe?" Well, I hadn't, even though we had gone back to the school to see if it was still there, but it wasn't.

I forgot all about it until I went to church today and thought "oh man, I still haven't gotten dad's hoe. Good thing mom's still around..." The bishop came up to me again, but this time he said he had gone to the school district and found it (what he meant to say is he went to the Island of Lost Toys and Hoes) and that the hoe was now safely in the clerk's office. I decided to go put it in the car before sacrament started so I wouldn't forget it, but I had to bring the hoe back into the chapel to get my keys that I had left in my purse on the bench. It just felt awkward bringing a hoe into the chapel. I realize God is not a respecter of persons, but still. Moral of the story: Don't loose your hoe.

Eh?

On Sunday I had two missed calls from a caller from an unknown area code. I then got this text message from the same number: "Hey, I'm taking your trailer up to Canada, so you need to call me asap."

I did call him back asap to tell him to make sure the Canadian mounties didn't check the rear left tire.

Okay, so I didn't, but I should have. I did call him, but I just told him he had the wrong number. An hour later he called again and left some message that I didn't bother listening to. I feel kind of bad for the real owner of the trailer; he was going to wake up to a driveway empty of his beloved trailer.

Do You Have Yours?

I don't know what it is about today that I feel the urge to update you on so much. Get over it.

We were playing Apples to Apples, and if you haven't ever played you won't get this. My mom hadn't won any hands and Tanner says: "You're like a Mexican jumping the border, no green card."

Probably funnier at the time, but I think it's still pretty clever.

Next Time you Step on an Ant...

This blew my mind. They found an abandoned subterranean ant colony (I don't know where) and poured 10 tons of cement down the hole. It took 3 days. After, they spent weeks digging it out. If you don't want to watch the whole thing, fast forward to the very last minute to see the whole thing. It is 8 meters deep! What can I say, I'm kind of obsessed with nature sometimes. (Go alligators!)

What's in a Name?

True story. In my sister's ward there is a boy with the last name of "Nay."

He is dating a girl named "Shanae."

What if they got married?

I literally couldn't breath for like a minute.

It Lives in the Ground and It's a Hog

My mom had a Relief Society birthday dinner to attend, and had to bring cupcakes that represented the month of February. Not wanting to be cliche and do Valentine themed cakes, we thought of other things during February. Superbowl. Black History. President's Day. No, Groundhog's Day. Perfect.

Can't say I can take credit for coming up with these little munchkins, I went online and found someone else had already figured it out. Although instead of using Mounds bars, we used Milano cookies, because that's what we could find. The problem is, we put them a little too far back on the cupcake, so they looked like animated tombstones. But then we put ears on them and it was better. More like tombstones that could talk and listen to you. The green stuff is supposed to be grass, but ended up looking like the animated tombstone just got back from a St. Patrick's day parade. I wouldn't doubt if he got a little tipsy.

 I told my mom we better win. She said "Win what? There's no contest." And I told her "Yes huh. Relief Society is always a contest. I'm hoping we win a year free of having to pay tithing." By the way, that was a joke.

But we didn't win. I think it's because people got them confused with gophers. Which, has anyone actually seen a ground hog (besides watching Puxsutawney Phil on TV)? That's what I thought.

While I was sleeping

It is a fact universally known that I fall asleep during church.

Today in church, when I fell asleep, I awoke with a gasp because I thought the plate of strawberries I was holding had fallen. Good thing I wasn't actually holding a plate of strawberries.

I also thought the speaker said something to the effect of "Charlie Sheen and the Chocolate Factory," which I don't think he did. I don't know for sure though, I was drifting in and out of consciousness.

Speaking of Charlie Sheen, this brilliant person paired Sheen's crazy comments with the comic strip Family Circus. It's just what that comic strip needed to make it funny.

How To Impress Future Employers

This is a cover letter I just sent in to a job I just applied for. Explanation of said job below. 

I occasionally fall asleep while talking to people and remember 97% of my nightly dreams upon awaking. The other three percent continue to haunt my subconscious like Marley’s ghost. I am able to claim the strange sounding city of Rancho Cucamonga, California, as my home. I like to day-mare about house intruders and how I would fend for myself using a 1998 limited edition box of matches.

When I feel like contributing to society, I write a faux advice column that inspires people to quit writing into advice columns. When I don’t feel like contributing to society, I think of Lifetime Channel movie plots. On the spur of the moment, I will write love-neutral letters in Haiku form with Egyptian hieroglyphics. In the summer I like to have staring contests with the sun. I have yet to win one of those contests. 

Besides sounding like an essay prompt about disturbing individuals for a PSYCH 101 class, this is me trying to sell myself as a Groupon freelance writer. Without this job, I may have to join the family business of aspirin engraving.

Sincerely,
Elissa Stewart

Explanation: My dear friend Joelle (which has an awesome food/coupon/funny husband stories blog) told me about this great job - working as a freelance writer for Groupon. If you haven't heard of Groupon, they have daily deals which feature businesses in your location. The best part about Groupon is how they describe the deals/businesses (check out example here). Joelle said it sounded like it was right up my ally. I agreed.

I had to write a sample Groupon deal (which I may or may not post, I can't have my readers getting bored to dry tears) and then upload it with a resume and cover letter. I decided to just let the crazy cannon go, as you saw. It should be interesting if I get this little shing ding. Please pray I do.