Out and About

I am a little ashamed to say that Sundays are not always what they should be in our home. Generally, our church experiences start late, end early and are mostly spent in the hallways. When we get home, we generally do everything we can to get the entire family sleeping and then laze about for the remainder of the day, going to bed feeling as though we've wasted our time. Yesterday, I decided I'd had enough of it.

Our Sunday School lesson was partially about the building of the Salt Lake Temple, which (like so many people) has always been my favorite. Jane loves it too. In fact, she watches the movie Mountain of the Lord regularly and therefore I'd bet she knows more about the construction of the building than any other 5 year old of our acquaintance. The lesson made me want to visit temple square, so even though the kids were super exhausted, we decided to have lunch, hop on Trax and spend the afternoon there. It was the best Sunday we've had in a long time.



I'm not sure the kids would have gone for it, had it not involved a train ride. THAT was an adventure in and of itself. Public transit on a Sunday evening attracts some... characters.



I didn't know that impatiens grew that big. It makes mine (the ones that didn't shrivel up and die several months ago) look even more pathetic.





I think that my children almost fell in the reflection pool no less than 10 times. Fortunately, Jane never did succeed in drinking from it.



I never get over how pretty it is.



We also went over to the conference center and got a tour and everything. It blew Jane's mind. She loved it. Right after taking this photo, the lady that gave us the tour finally confessed to me that I looked so much like her sister's daughter's niece (I can't remember the connection) that I could almost be mistaken for her. I get that a lot. A LOT a lot. I must be the most generic looking person that has every existed because I swear every week or two I have a complete stranger tell me I look "just like so and so, it's so weird!" "you look more like my sister that her own daughter!" and on and on. That's how Brent introduced himself to me, in fact. And of course, when I tell people that I get it a lot, they always say "Really? You have very unique features. I can't imagine how you get that so much." But it's true. And I always reply "I don't mind. People like familiar faces, so I figure it can't be a bad thing." And that's true too.*



On the ride home, the kids we're so tired that they were completely loopy. Charlie could hardly stand himself. But even though they were tired and it was chilly, we had such a great time. It taught me that we just have get out more, even when it seems harder than it's worth.

* SUBPOST: Familiar Faces

I am formally announcing that after YEARS of avoiding it, I have finally purchased my first pair of skinny jeans. Observe:



When skinny jeans first hit the fashion world, I thought that some wealthy, powerful, unstable designer was smoking crack and had designed them while they were completely out of their mind. Everyone knew that it was a bad idea, but no one dared put a stop to it for fear that they would immediately be disgraced. So to the public they came, crazy, unflattering and uncomfortable as ever.

Seriously, I remember my last pair of skinny jeans. Back then we called them tapered. They were forest green and the ankles were so tight that I could hardly get my feet out of them. I liked to wear them with a cream colored top. I can still see the outfit in my head and it's frightening.

So all these years I've watched them. Models were wearing them, friends were wearing them, Stacey Freaking London was wearing them and I called them all hideous and impractical until one day, I realized that I didn't mean it anymore. I'd seen them so many times that they actually started to look cute. And then when Leslie suggested that she wanted some to wear with boots this winter, I immediately confided in her that I wanted some too. And then we immediately hit Forever 21 to look for some. And then I immediately decided that I like skinny jeans.

It's a green eggs and ham sort of story.