Note to Self

Dear Lord,

In twenty years, when my house is silent, and the loud, obnoxious, blood-curdling screams no longer make my eyes blink and my blood pressure spontaneously rise, remind me of the joy of noise.

In twenty years, when I am longing to change sweet children in and out of their snowpants, jackets, mittens, scarves, hats, boots, sweatshirts, and wet socks SEVEN TIMES BEFORE NOON, remind me of the magic of snowfall.

In twenty years, when I recall with teary eyes the horror of five 6 year-olds riding their dirt bikes through the snowy front lawn, leaving tread marks that resemble a motocross course, remind me of the thrill of adventure.

In twenty years, when I decorate the Christmas tree without a million interruptions that make a 20-minute project span the course of two days, remind me that a helpful spirit (however incompetent) is still a precious gift.

In twenty years, when no one is asking me to make hot chocolate and then spilling it all over themselves, the carpet I just had cleaned, and their neighbor's new Christmas sweater, remind me that a hot cocoa mustache is cuter than just about anything.

In twenty years, when my house is actually warm because no one leaves the front door wide open every time they come in and out in the 30 degree weather, remind me that there isn't a lot of time to waste when there are snowmen to be built.

But here's the deal, God...I might not be around in twenty years because these kids are making me crazy.

In Jesus' name,

Amen.

Defender of the Weak

As I sit here, speechless, I am awed yet again by God's graciousness and miraculous power.

For the past few days, every spare thought and even breath has been consumed with prayer, praise, and honestly, begging of God on behalf of our friend, Aidyn.

Joined by hundreds of others, I've prayed that He would divinely intervene in Aidyn's spinal cord, where a tumor resided.

That's right. 

Resided.

By His grace, God has seen fit to deliver her through the most intricate of surgeries, led by a team of amazing doctors, but not surpassed His supernatural intervention.

A journey of recovery and more treatment lies ahead, but for tonight, tears of thanks and glory accompany my unrestrained smile.

God laid the foundations long before time.

He shut the sea behind doors when it burst forth.

He made the clouds and gives orders to the morning.

He cares about the life of one amazing 10 year-old in the midst of his five billion children.

No tumor is too mighty, no prognosis too bleak, no weight in my heart too heavy.

"The Lord has done great things for us and we are filled with joy." 

Psalm 126:3

Happy Thanksgiving!

Boldy Approach the Throne

On this Wednesday before Thanksgiving, I have a huge request to put forth to friends, family, and anyone with faith in Jesus.

Our sweet friend, Aidyn, is undergoing surgery this morning to remove a tumor from inside her spinal cord. She is ten years old.

The tumor was discovered just Monday, it is likely cancerous, and the surgery is incredibly delicate due to the location at the base of the brain.

Pray with me right now that they are able to remove this tumor and there are no complications during the surgery. 

This is Aidyn holding Lilly five years ago in the hospital right after she was born:

Psalm 46:1

"God is our refuge and strength, our ever-present help in time of trouble. Therefore, we will not fear..."

I am so thankful God can do immeasurably more than we can ask or imagine...

It's Pretty Much the Plastic Soccer Statue of Blogging

If you could see me right now, you'd know I am typing in a beautiful, golden, sparkly formal dress complete with heels and one of those purses so small and fancy that it doesn't actually hold anything except enough lip gloss to make a mess when I drop it in my lap.

Actually, I am in some old jeans and a (formerly) white hoodie with pumpkin bread batter on the sleeves. Oh yeah.

But good news!

Queen B, who is a real blogger and not even someone I pay to read the blog, has passed along a very special award. She was dazzled with my kreativity and frequent references to food. 

Ta da:

In exchange for this award (who has ever heard of an award with strings attached?) I have to tell six things that make me happy.

And I'm going to attempt to do this without mentioning friends and family, because of course they make me happier than anything and it would consume the majority of this post and my tears might cause water damage to the laptop.

And I am already at my quota for water-damaged technology this year. 

1. Clean sheets. I love everything about them and if I could wash and change my sheets every day, I would.

This is somewhat ironic, because although I am the washer of the sheets, I am not allowed to put them on the bed because I do it "wrong."

So wrong, in fact, that last time, Brad wouldn't even let me be in the same room with him while he put them on the bed. He thought I would "try to help and mess things up like usual."

I could either a) have my feelings hurt, or b) rejoice in the fact that I never have to make my bed.

2. Coffee. My love for coffee is dark-roasted, strong, and hot. Sometimes I get excited to go to bed, knowing that I am that much closer to waking up and being filled with warmth.

2a. Coffee creamer. My current favorite is Cinnamon Bun and I am rotating it with Hazelnut Biscotti and Eggnog. I like them with a little Splenda to round out my artificial flavors and fake chemical intake by 6 a.m.

2c. I do not like iced coffee. See #5.

3. A perfectly relaxing afternoon: Putting on a great movie and settling in to bake and cook uninterrupted for a few hours.

This has happened approximately once in my entire life.

A girl can dream.

4. Black Friday Shopping

And yes, I would say this even if it wasn't coming up in FOUR DAYS OH MY GOSH. 

I am already fantasizing about my 6 a.m. Peppermint Mocha, unbelievable deals, a cozy lunch, and family fun along with the rest of America. 

Oh, and I also like shopping the other 364 days of the year.

5. Being warm.

I don't care if it's at a beach (preferable), because of seat warmers (high-maintenance, but true) or thanks to my mattress-pad warmer (best gift EVER.)

But I love heat. I would rather sweat to death than freeze, thank you very much.

And I start to freeze at about 79 degrees.

Which is only about 20 degrees different than Brad's freezing point.

Good times.

6. Running.

I am not a glutton for punishment, but I do love a good, long run. 

I love breathing in cool air outside and how the monotony of the steps puts my body on cruise control, freeing my mind to pray, think, and organize (I use that term loosely.)

I've said it once and I'll say it again, I've never regretted going for a run, but I almost always regret skipping one.

(That's it for Deep Thoughts in 2008).

Ok, the last string to this Kreativ Award is that I have to pass it along.

I'm passing it right along to Jules at The Roost.

She is amazingly gentle and humble and hilarious and full of truth all at the same time. And if you haven't met Mr. Perfect...well, you should.

Thanks again, QB!

A Big Small-Screen Drama

Since I was very busy doing everything but blogging last summer, you didn't get to hear the miraculous and even divine story that involved the purchase of our New/Old/Now-Defunct TV.

After planning a marvelous blog entry recapping my most amazing garage sale finds, I got busy eating chicken salad and cookie dough and never posted it.

So here goes:

One leisurely Sunday morning, I was out for a run and detoured to a garage sale, or more accurately, a Moving Sale, which we all know is a true bonanza because people get lazy and sell things they don't want to move and will seriously regret parting with later.

Whereas at a real garage sale, you essentially end up swapping crap with your neighbors.

(Except for 2 years ago when I got this amazing lead crystal salad bowl WITH THE TAGS ON from a widower who would only take $5 for something worth more than all of my Sam Moon jewelry combined.)

A family one street over was moving to somewhere in Asia and liquidating all kinds of wonderfulness because it's a bit pricey to get from the Rockies to Tokyo.

As I huffed and puffed up to their house before all the other looters, I spotted my prey: a huge plasma TV.

Our ten-year old Dino TV was limping along, but after the purchase of the Wii, we realized that in fact, we couldn't even make out whose Mii was whose.

Plus, there was a delightful green spot permanently affixed in the upper right-hand corner of the Dino TV screen. When the actual viewing size is already small, a large green spot (sometimes blue) does not make matters better.

We had died to the thought of purchasing a new TV, wanting to wait until the picture tube officially blew or the digital-ness of technology surpassed us and we could no longer make out the gender of the evening news anchors.

At the moving sale extravaganza, a HUGE plasma TV was right in the middle of the garage with a low, low, low, low price tag.

When I asked the guy why they were selling, he explained that the TV was great, but apparently in China all the plugs are different and it just wouldn't work.

I skeedaddled myself right home and told Brad that God had answered our prayers before we could even pray them.

A huge new TV!

Cheap!

Free shipping!

To make the most obvious part of the story short: the TV didn't exactly work. It sort of worked, but it also sort of blacked out for a few seconds at a time, which proved to be incredibly inconvenient during the Olympics when some of the events were only a few seconds long.

Ugh.

Finally, one night we watched a movie and realized we spent more time staring at a black screen than at the actual movie. Plus, this show had a lot of sight gags, and AGAIN, if you take the "sight" out of sight gags, there's not much left.

This led Brad to spend far more hours researching our future TV model, its features, and secret powers than the editors at Consumer Reports could ever dream.

We finally decided on one at Costco, forked over the money incredibly reluctantly, then went home and rejoiced when we realized that somehow Kung Fu Panda was on a constant loop on channel 113 (which we hope we are not paying for since we don't even have cable.)

I'm not sure about the whole digital TV world, but there is something fancy about this TV that lets you see more moles and wrinkles on people than frankly, I would like.

The day after we hemorrhaged our debit card to replace the Plasma Disaster, do you know what happened?

Our new TV went on sale. $300 less than our rock bottom price.

However, they wouldn't just credit our receipt. We had to re-package the entire TV, return it, purchase a new one, and then collect our cash.

Seriously.

Luckily, one of Brad's spiritual gifts is Original Box Collection.

He still has the original boxes for the stereo he received as a gift in high school. We have original boxes for all the electronics we've purchased during our marriage, including computers that no longer work and appliances we no longer own.

Don't confuse these with moving boxes.

Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.

Yes, we did move them. But they weren't empty. They contained the original styrofoam (when it hadn't crumbled all the pieces) and in some cases, the electronics.

At one point, the Costco lovelies were going to make us purchase an entirely new TV, but Brad turned on the charm and inside knowledge from years of retail sales and talked them out of it.

So, we ended up going home with $300 cash in our pockets, our original TV, 2 cans of Pam, coffee, 22 Ziploc storage containers, and a somewhat-miffed customer service desk.

The moral of the story being: Do not purchase large, used electronics at a garage sale.

What?

You didn't need this little parable to tell you that?

And you are mocking my stupidity?

That's cool.

Has It Been A Week Already?

Well, wowzers.

I'm so sorry you've had to look at pictures of Lilly sucking her thumb for an entire week. If it's any consolation, I've seen over 100 hours of that same footage without even so much as turning on the computer.

And this very morning, her thumb was white and shriveled, like I envision a white grape rejected by the Welch's Factory.

Some pretty neat things have happened this week which probably deserve their own blog...and hopefully I'll get to that soon.

A few quick things...

a) I couldn't help myself any longer, so I went ahead and put up our kitchen Christmas tree.

NO, I am not forgetting about Thanksgiving, but I've decided to combine the spirit of Thanks + Giving and make it into one Ginormous Festivus this year.

It usually takes a full day to get the entire house into appropriate levels of Christmas Cheer, so I thought I'd get a head start.

My budget for Christmas decor this year is $0. 

No, you didn't misread that. I am challenging myself to creatively use everything we have and spend not even one dime to decorate. It's not like I usually allow myself an extravagant amount, but even $50 at Hobby Lobby can create a significant amount of yuletide cheer.

Last year, I did some serious post-Christmas damage at Pottery Barn when they were practically standing out front and forcing you to take stuff. Of course, I obliged!

I'm thinking I'll try to do BooMama's Christmas Tour o' Homes, so you might get to see the "creativity" (copied directly from magazines) at that time.

b) I have already Elfed Oursevles.

 

Not as funny as last year, but I still couldn't resist...

Try JibJab Sendables® eCards today!

c) Hmmm...there isn't really a C.

It snowed last week.

Does that count?

I didn't curl up in the fetal position and pretend we live in Phoenix, so I think that's progress.

That's all for now...I promise to be back soon with some amazing Thanksgiving news. All I have to say is that Beachy Mimi is at it again...

I Can't Help But Notice a Theme

It will not take you long...

...to figure out what Lilly has been up to for the last nearly-five years.

At the pool...

...chillin' at the house...

...at her brother's birthday party...

...at her own birthday party...

...just because...

...with pigtails...

...in a suitcase...

...and last week, as Dorothy.

What can I say other than: "My child sucks her thumb WITHOUT CEASING OR INTERRUPTION and shows no signs of stopping before college."

And honestly, I'm not worried.

For starters, I was a thumb-sucker well into the elementary school years and had no idea I was doing it. I remember my attentive kindergarten teacher reminding me to out take my thumb, which was tough since it was such an unconscious reflex.

What makes me crazy is all of the other people insistent on helping Lilly break the habit.

They are well-intentioned and believe (however misguided) that they can spare her the shame and ridicule of continuing on.

Nope.

Not happening.

I have every reason to believe that Miss Oral Fixation will not stop until she is good and ready.

I have promised the child a trip to Disney World--yes, THE MAGIC KINGDOM--if she will stop.

Nope.

Not happening.

My first clue was when I reflected on her potty-training experience.

There was no reading of potty books, sticker charts, candy rewards, or bribes.

One day when she was barely two, Lilly announced she was ready to go potty and the child put on big girl panties and never had an accident.

(For those of you inclined to hate me right this second, rest assured that it would take another blog entitled "My Life at the Threshold of Hell" to adequately capture the potty-training nightmare we endured with Jackson.)

All that to say, when she wants to stop sucking her thumb, she will.

Based on nearly a decade of combined orthodontic experience between Brad and I, The Girl was destined for braces even had she been born thumb-less.

The one picture I didn't include was her ultrasound at 20 weeks, showing that infant body with her thumb securely between her lips.

It is filed somewhere in the basement in a box labled "Miscellaneous--Volume 127" so maybe I'll go dig that out this week...

A baby in the belly can only do so many things--eat (sort of), poop (somehow), sleep (with eyes closed?), and suck her thumb. We aren't really asked to break any other habits begun before we were born, so altering this behavior seems especially difficult.

Last week, my sweet sister-in-law sent me this photo:

Lilly's newest cousin, at 18 weeks.

I believe the family tradition has successfully been continued.

Emotion swells my throat and wets my eyes as I see those tiny eyes, arms, and ribs growing so beautifully. 

And that precious thumb.

Never Blog About Food When You're Starving

I don't know about y'all, but when the weather dips below 60 I start wearing wool socks, a fur vest, and a hat.

Indoors.

(In my defense, Brad keeps the thermostat around 62 and floats on air for days when we've "risen to the challenge" and lowered the electric bill each month. Nevermind that I slept in a snowsuit and screamed when my buns hit the cold potty in the middle of the night.)

Not to sound whiny, but I am too wimpy to even appreciate chilly.

This is something genetically programmed in me because for as long as I can remember, I've been obsessed with warmth.

The first winter coat I remember picking out by myself (Burlington Coat Factory, anyone?) was a white one with palm trees and the words "Tahiti" all over it.

I'm sure I was a vision and I'm so proud my parents humbled themselves to let me wear something so ridiculous. Although, from what I've pieced together from relatives, "ridiculous" was the wardrobe theme.

(Whatever.)

Flamingos are my favorite animal. Flip-flops are my favorite foot wear.

So Winter and I? We have a problem.

That is, except for one major category. FOOD.

(You know what they say about summer: If you can't be with the one you love, love the one you're with.)

If it wasn't for winter, I would never eat chili. Don't know about you, but after a long day at the pool, nothing in me wants to come home and saddle up to a big steaming bowl of spicy beans.

With all this rambling about changing seasons and possible snow in Colorado, I fire up the crockpot for a Weekend Chili Extravaganza.

Queso (chili's South-of-the Border cousin) is also a crockpot companion, which is why it's important to have two slow cookers on hand. 

Plus, there are some big football games to be played this weekend. Without the lean, mean fuel of fake cheese and processed meat, how can one have the energy to cheer for Texas Tech?

I know we all have favorite chili recipes, and even though I have mine, I still like to experiment from time to time.

There's a hidden fear that if one recipe is truly great and I haven't tried it, I might be missing out.

But you know what? I come back to Old Faithful every single time.

The recipe is basic, easy, and just plain delicious.  The toppings are endless and you can't mess it up.

I was thinking of posting my queso recipe, but there are no less than FOUR in my stack, so maybe I'll save those for another day.

Old Faithful Chili

1 lb. ground beef

1 chopped onion

garlic (however much you like)

1 lb. diced tomatoes

1 lb. hot chili beans (I like Bush's and they make mild or medium for the tender of tongue)

8 oz. can tomato sauce

1 t. salt

dash of pepper

2-4 T. of chili powder (I go for 4 and make them heaping)

Brown meat with onion and garlic. Drain off grease. Combine meat and rest of ingredients in crock pot and cook on low for 4-6 hours.

Top with Fritos, tomatoes, sour cream, jalapenos, cheese, green chiles, or Almond Joy.

Serve with a side of mittens and football. YUM.

One Word

Well, my day of free eating didn't manifest itself quite like I envisioned. 

A follow-up visit to the dentist left me incredibly numb and unable to actually taste food. I love a good Krispy Kreme, but if I'm going to let one glide down my throat for the first time in several years, I want to taste every single calorie.

So how do I cope with a day filled with lost eating opportunities?

A meme!

My mom sent me this one and it was much harder than I thought, seeing as all the answers are limited to ONE WORD.

No one has ever described me as "verbally restrained" so this will be a challenge.  Although between a quasi-Botoxed mouth and exhaustion, remembering my middle name would be challenging right now.

Answer in One Word:

1. Where is your cell phone? anywhere

2. Your significant other? elated

3. Your hair? highlights

4. Your mother? amazing

5. Your father? loves

6. Your favorite thing? food

7. Your dream last night? huh

8. Your favorite drink? Diet Dr. PepCAFEMOCHAVANILLALATTECOFFEEper

9. Your dream/goal? love

10. The room you're in? bedroom

11. Your fear? monotony

12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? content

13. Where were you last night? snuggling

14. What you're not? detailed

15. Muffins? love

16. One of your wish list items? iPhone

17. Where you grew up? Wheaton

18. The last thing you did? sang

19. What are you wearing? t-shirt

20. Your TV? small

21. Your pet? nada

22. Your computer? MacBook

23. Your life? abundant

24. Your mood? SLEEP

25. Missing someone? fam

26. Your car? 'Burb

27. What you're not wearing? ring

28. Favorite store? Nordstrom

29. Your summer? perfect

30. Your favorite color? changes

31. Last time you laughed? today

32. Last time you cried? today

33. Rather be right now? beach

34. Four places I go over and over: Costco, Target, Running, School

35. Four of my favorite foods: chocolate, Mexican, cookie dough, pizza

There you have it...if your brain cells are firing blanks, consider yourself tagged!

I'm Going to Gain 10 Pounds in the Name of Patriotism

I am proud to say that for once in my life, I planned ahead and took care of all this voting business last week.

It was a very tender moment involving me and the voting volunteers, which consisted of 15 elderly ladies crocheting (I'm not even making that up). They had Lilly sitting on their lap, talking in silly voices, while feeding her as many cookies as her stomach could hold. Meanwhile I read through 9 zillion amendments to the Colorado constitution and received only a sticker.

Thankfully, I am done with all the voting and now I can hit the town for some freebies!

After dropping Lilly off at preschool, I headed to Starbucks for my free coffee.

Check.

Later today, I'll cruise through Chick-fil-A for a chicken sandwich, Krispy Kreme for a donut (well, maybe) and tonight, since "Dancing With the Stars" has been pre-empted for election coverage (whatever), the fam will head to Ben & Jerry's to round out our butts...I mean, day.

Actually, I am incredibly humbled to live in a nation where we do get to vote and live in freedom. Brad and I were trying to explain to the kids what it is like in other places in our world in this present day. It's hard to fathom the oppression and fear in which so many people are forced to survive.

Some of the best thoughts on voting as believers with hope that extends far beyond today, I've read here and here.

And Jules got me hungry when I read this because a tasty dinner always makes life more fun.

But now, I have to go back to the dentist before my sugar-fest later today.

This hymn (or is it just a song?) has been running through my head for the past few days, and I know it's God putting it on my heart since hymns don't usually occupy my thoughts.

Turn your eyes upon Jesus,

Look full in his wonderful face.

And the things of earth will grow strangely dim,

In the light of his glory and grace.

Excuse Me While I Loosen My Belt

It dawned it me that the most avid readers of this blog are in fact, my relatives and more than hearing about the finer points of candy, they want to see pictures of the trick-or-treaters.

Because of cuteness and all.

So here we have Indiana Jones and Dorothy:

Jackson is still working on his mean face. I thought he would look tougher if he had a beard, but he wouldn't let me draw one or use coffee grounds and honey to get an authentic rugged look.

Now here, we have my niece, Belle (not her real name) and Dorothy, skipping gaily through the neighborhood.

I love this view from the back because Dorothy's braids looked mighty wonderful, if I do say so myself. 

Judy Garland had more hair than humanly possible for a 4 year-old to grow, but we did our best given the fine hair and short attention span.

This next picture is one of my favorites:

I love a princess who hikes up her skirt and takes care of bidness. Well done, Belle.

Now I have to talk about candy. I'll start with the disappointments, because there were a handful this year.

I have never IN MY LIFE known a child who just craves, begs for, and desires above all else, hard candy.

To my knowledge, it is darn near impossible to bite/chew/enjoy Jaw Breakers, Now & Later, and Those Gross Strawberry Things.

And Cinnamon Brach's Whatevers?

Whatever.

Honestly, I don't even know if Sixlets are still in production. I have a feeling those "candy coated chocolates" (so original!) are leftover from a Halloween Basket of Olde. 

And this makes me scratch my head:

A Snickers Almond that contains peanuts? I feel like the peanut is the signature nut of the Snickers and downright essential to its composition. 

Putting almonds in it like Hillary Clinton waking up one day and deciding to wear a dress instead of a yellow pantsuit.

I would be totally confused.

This next pile is my C+ batch. If I were stranded on an Isle of Subpar Chocolate and had the choice of Average Chocolate or Death, I would indeed choose the Average Chocolate.

I know some people swear by the Nestle Crunch (and I hear there is a new caramel version that is very tasty) but the Milky Way and 3 Musketeers are just give-ups. 

They really seem like the beef jerky of candy bars; leftover nougat and marshmallow shrapnel from the factory floor are bonded together and coated in chocolate, then labeled and sold. 

Ew.

These are also average students in my grade book:

I'm just not a big wafer fan unless they have one-inch layers or peanut butter between them.

And if you can eat these without gagging, please leave your name in the comments and I will send you ours.

Because really?

Kids and coconut? 

Not so much.

Someone clearly collected these over a year's time from their insurance agent's office:

And they got these from the bank:

Now for the crime of the year. This is all of the dark chocolate we received:

ATTENTION PARENTS: I thought we all agreed that since it's a known fact we send our kids out to trick-or-treat to collect candy for us, we would put lots of dark chocolate and upscale goodness like Dove and Ghirardelli in the baskets.

YOU ALL FAILED ME. 

ALL OF YOU. 

THERE WAS NONE.

But these did help mend some wounds:

(Although if anyone wants to donate a big jar of peanut butter and some spoons next time, that would be fine, too.)

This is the other Pile O'Weight Gain from Lilly's stash. Like a good bear cub, she gathered up all of the Peanut M&M's she could find. Bless her.

The Baby Ruth is another favorite due the intense nuttiness and chocolate.

I thoughtfully and intentionally bought a gigantic bag of Double Dark Chocolate Twix to bless the other moms in the neighborhood, but exactly ZERO came back my way. 

The only other minor tragedy was that we received exactly one Butterfinger and Brad and I were forced to Indian Leg Wrestle for it.

Now that we're through the season of candy, I can focus on heart healthy and light fare like pies, cakes, dips, and spreads.

See you at the gym!

We Interrupt the Candy Breakdown to Say GO RED RAIDERS!!

I think I read in a parenting book somewhere that you're actually supposed to develop some sort of bedtime routines with your children.

That way, you can ensure that they do things like brush their teeth, take a potty break, and OH YEAH, get a good night's sleep.

Last night got a little ugly with some hardcore trick-or-treating and the neighborhood party.

And tonight?

 

Oops.

We'd been prepping for the Texas Tech/Texas game since ESPN Gameday at 8 a.m. 

Jackson immediately pulled on his Red Raiders jersey and taunted his friends about Tech winning, even though they had no idea what he was talking about.

(To be clear, we don't teach taunting, but we may model top shelf trash-talking on very important occasions.)

(Like tonight when Tech sawed off those 'Horns.)

(And I may have taught Jackson the "down 'Horns" gesture. Maybe.)

Clutched in Jackson's sleeping hand was evidence of the great sportsmanship he's privileged to witness on a daily basis.

Sorry if that's a little hard to read.

Here you go:

My favorite illustration is the upside down longhorn.

And if you were the lady wearing the Texas shirt at the gym today, I apologize for his "down 'Horns!" outburst.

(But only because I have to.)

Field of Poppies Re-enactment

There is some exhaustion at our house due to all the trick-or-treating.

Dorothy crashed in the one minute and thirty seconds it took to heat her hot chocolate.
As usual, she trekked through the neighborhood, slowly freezing to death, and vehemently denying it so she could continue to fill her candy back to the tippy top.

(Mission accomplished).

It reminded me of two years ago, when Violet Incredible trouped through the 'hood for so long that we thought she had frost bite.

(Did you see that hand?)

This just shows that our family has a healthy view of candy and doesn't elevate the pleasure of eating above death.

Oh, and we let her have M&M's for breakfast.

Is that a problem?

I am working on a thorough candy analysis and will be back with the delicious details sometime soon.