Translation Please...

Hangaburr

Hotgod (this one sounds a little blasphemous or irreverent)

Libble litt

Back cack

Scabetti

Any clues? No? Okay, since I have superior lingual skills I'll translate for you...

Hamburger

Hot dog

Little bit

Back pack

Spaghetti

All words that I regularly hear from my kids. Well, except for libble lit. CJ no longer says it that way, he now says it the right way and it made me so sad the first time he said it correctly.

And now for a musical bonus. What song is this?

"Harry had a little man, little man, little man"

That's right folks, Mary had a Little Lamb with a twist sung by none other Lexi!!!

Grainy eyeballs...

It is 2:30am. That means the whole world (or my world at least) is sound asleep and here I sit, staring into a computer screen until my eyes feel as if they are filled with sand. Why am I up so late you ask? Oh that's easy, because after a pretty darn wonderful stake conference in which we were privileged to hear Elder Richard G. Scott talk to us about temples, and rearing children in the gospel, how important the scriptures are, and best of all his burning testimony of Christ, we went to my in-law's home in Queen Creek. There we proceeded to eat my mother-in-law's delicious food. Rice, beans, and some dish with chicken, red chile sauce, potatoes, and nopales (it's cactus!!). With a tummy full of food and a heart filled with the spirit I retired to the master bedroom where I lay down on the bed fully intending to just watch a little tv. And then I woke up 5 hours later. So, that is why I'm up at this unholy hour of the night.

I keep telling myself "Go to bed, the morning is coming quickly enough" but I just can't get my mind to quiet down or my feet to quit twitching. And if I were to go to bed in this state it would drive Carlos crazy! He hates my twitchiness. We went camping Memorial weekend and this experience was so much better than our last camping trip, no tent set up on a hillside, no monsoon storms, no sleeping on rocks because we invested in some cots! Anyway, one morning after a somewhat cold but comfortable night Carlos complained of me keeping him up because I was either fiddling with my sleeping bag zipper (it's true I was, that dang zipper would not stay up and my hiney was cold!) or I was rhythmically moving my feet and apparently the noise was enough to keep him on the wrong side of sleep. I don't know why I twitch, it's like the babies that grow up in orphanages that you see rocking themselves to sleep (a coping mechanism?), well, I rub one foot on the other kind of like ringing your hands but with your feet and it is oddly relaxing to me.

So as I sit here coping (with what, I don't know, the price of rice in China?) writing this post was just the thing I needed because my eyes are beginning to be heavy. The Sandman has come out victorious, or will shortly anyway. I'm off to slumber and hopefully sweet dreams.