Look Ma, no cavities!

"Silver and gold, silver and gold," we used to sing to poor Ryan when he was a kid turning the nice little Rudolph the Reindeer song into a taunt. And when the gold and silver chickenfoot tile came up we were merciless. Poor kid. Ryan was cursed with Mom's not so good teeth and usually had a least one cavity whenever he went to the dentist. Just like Brandon got all of my serotonin, I somehow got Ryan's share of good tooth enamel and actually look forward to dentist visits.
I went to the dentist today (good ol' Dr. Mike for you Stewart kids). And as usual I didn't have any cavities. While sitting in the chair, I wondered why I enjoyed dentist visits so much more than doctor visits. At first I thought it was probably the lack of disrobing and embarrassing admissions at the dentist's. But I think the real reason I like going to the dentist is because it usually involves a lot of praise and pats on the back. "Good job Lindsay! Your teeth look great. Keep up the good work." But when I heard some of those words today, instead of basking in the glow, I wondered what other kids, kids like Ryan, hear at the end of their appointments. Ryan probably has much better dental hygiene than I do. I usually just brush twice a day and floss only when I occasionally remember or have something stuck in my teeth.
This whole hygiene-cavities paradox reminds me of how embarrassed I was when I had horrible acne. My skin was pretty clear until my sophomore year in college. Then I suddenly had horrible acne. I did everything possible, tried every cleanser, antibiotic, and cream out there. I washed my face religiously, made sure to sleep with my hair tied back, and never, ever, ever touched my face with my hands. But it didn't matter because my real problem was a hormone imbalance, not a lack of hygiene.
So Ryan, I'm sorry about teasing you about all of your cavities. You didn't deserve it anymore than I deserve all of the pats on the back I got this morning for my excellent hygiene. But I retain the right to enjoy going to the dentist. I mean who wouldn't with the free toothbrush and all?

She's Still Got It

I spent many teenage afternoons sneaking in naps while Mom taught piano lessons downstairs. I've always been more of a "late to bed, late to rise" sort of sleeper and my desire for afternoon naps was considered somewhat criminal. But as long as I could hear the piano downstairs, I knew I could nap safely. My cue to wake up and hastily start doing my homework was when I heard Mom's voice move up the stairs. I probably squeezed in hundreds of naps using this technique.
I didn't get much sleep last night and had to get up at 5:00 am so when I got home from work today, I thought I'd take a short nap for an hour or so. I quickly fell into a deep sleep. The kind of sleep where a bomb could go off and I wouldn't wake up. I even slept through my alarm clock, which I never do. All of a sudden I heard Mom's voice in the hallway asking where Sierra was. I flew out of bed in a panic saying, "She's in here, she's in here." I couldn't help laughing at myself. After all these years Mom's voice is still the best alarm clock out there.

Christmas 2008

Christmas was exhausting, but a lot of fun. I unfortunately still had to work 40 hours that week, most of it starting at 5:00 am so I was really tired. Of course staying up until midnight playing RockBand didn't help. But it was great to come home to a house full of the people I love most in the world. It was a big change after the two weeks I had spent home alone. There was plenty of good food and company for the whole week. I didn't get very many pictures somehow (see the exhaustion previously mentioned). Some of my favorite moments all had to do with singing - rather strange for a Stewart Christmas. Brandon's rendition of "Roxanne" had us all rolling, the kids and adults had a lot of fun singing "Dance, Dance, Leprechaun" with Josh one afternoon, and the girls treated me to some beautiful Christmas carols on Sunday night. We all missed having Grandma and Grandpa with us this year. Mom came through with the food storage. I had a lot of fun this past weekend putting together a backpack bursting with preparedness for my car. Peace of mind has to be the best gift of all. For Christmas next year I think I need to work on a job that gives me the holiday off.

This is as close as we got to reenacting the nativity story.

Lindsay and Laurel in their Christmas Eve jammies.

Megan helps sweet Josh with his new lacing toy.

The lightsabers for all of the boys were a big hit.

Evan in his batman costume (complete with muscles).

Evan (always the ladies man) couldn't get enough of little Jane.

Happy 2009 everyone! I can't wait until next year. Unless I talk Mom and Dad into taking Ryan and me to Hawaii that is.

Reese's Whipps . . . blech!

The title of this post really says it all. Reese's came out with a new candy bar so I thought, "Hey, Reese's came out with a new candy bar. Yum! I better give it a try." The basic idea is peanut butter flavored nougat covered in chocolate. Sounds good right? So wrong. I'm not very good at describing flavors but basically Reese's decided to use non-peanut butter flavored nougat and to try out a new chocolate instead of the delicious stuff they use for their peanut butter cups. I tried holding the nougat in my mouth in order to taste any sort of peanut butter taste but I just couldn't find any. Of course I do have a killer cold right now so that could be part of the problem.
Homework Assignment: Everyone go out and try a delicious new Whipps candy bar and report back to me. Also: What's with the extra "p" in Whipps?

Boo hoo my hit counter isn't working!

How am I supposed to know how cool I am if my hit counter isn't working? I'm afraid to reinstall it because it will probably restart me at zero. That would be so lame. At least I can my check still check my coolness level on Facebook.

Speaking of restarting things at zero, last year I had to put a new speedometer/odometer in my car. That means that my car which really has 150,000+ miles looks like it only has about 7,000 according to the new odometer. I took my car into the dealership for service this week and the porter who brought my car out to me was super impressed by my car's low mileage. He even called over another guy to check it out. He was less impressed when I told him it was a new odometer.

Speaking of crazy people (okay we weren't talking about crazy people, this is a tangent), I ran into some crazy people on my lunch break today (unfortunately one of them was me). When I left for lunch the parking lot outside of Borders was super crowded. I put my car into reverse to back out of my parking space and a car passing behind me became so excited by my bright reverse lights that he immediately slammed on his brakes, effectively trapping me in my parking space. Apparently he wanted my parking space. The problem was that he was already half way past my spot and there was another car waiting behind him who also wanted my spot. So there I was, stuck in my parking spot, watching the driver blocking my exit gesticulate angrily to the car behind him who wouldn't let him reverse so he could get my spot. Meanwhile, the clock is ticking away on my lunch break. Then the guy blocking me reverses about two inches and then starts waving at me like that two inches was enough for me to now reverse my car. I'd had just about enough, but I bet you can't guess what I did next. You probably think I just sat there fuming. But no, I behaved in a very unLindsaylike fashion. I jumped out of the car and started yelling at the guy, and he had his window down so he could totally hear me. "Either keep driving or back up! Drive forward or back up! You're blocking me in! Keep driving or back up!" I yelled (I was also waving both arms around to signal the guy what I wanted him to do). Take a second and picture it if you would like. The sight of this small ball of fury must of freaked out both drivers because all of a sudden they both backed up and gave me enough room to back my car out. I gave them one last glare and then got back in my car and left for lunch. I guess today was not the day to mess with Lindsay.

I Like Paisley

I was trying to choose a post-Christmas blog background but was rather stymied but all of the choices when I suddenly remembered that I really like paisley. Unfortunately the only paisley background happens to be red and green. So my post-Christmas background doesn't look very January. But anyways, I really like paisley. I don't get a lot of opportunities to incorporate it into my life because I don't wear ties very often and I can't see myself wearing a larger piece of clothing in paisley. I like paisley, I'm not crazy or blind though. I could however see myself decorating with paisley someday. Perhaps a paisley rug or curtains or something. Anyone else have any strong feelings about fabric patterns? I also think that women should limit their wearing of argyle to socks. Argyle sweaters always look manly to me.