butter me up like a greasy rotisserie chicken

actual quote from Pastor:

"She's a great cook . . . she may spoil me..."

Whatever!
I have cooked one night!
He's probably just trying to butter me up (please) so I'll do it again.

scientific experiment
A single person with one small child and one small poodle and no Pastor can go weeks without running dishwasher. House with Pastor, three kiddos and no small dog requires constant running of dishwasher. And where does the bread go? I used to always throw away partial moldy loaves. Now you open a loaf and poof! The thing is gone! Five minutes later and you are saying "hey...where did that loaf of bread go???". I don't even eat that stuff made with that processed and refined and bleached icky-ness!

The Pastor asked me to pick the meat off of a rotisserie chicken tonight so he could take the chicken carcass to the trash. Nas-ty! I didn't want to do it, but after 5 days of marriage I'm still trying to be an obedient wife so I decided to just keep my mouth shut and do it. Even though the thought of it just seemed entirely gross. While I was picking the meat off, I thought this must be one of the reasons he bought me such a big diamond ring...so that I would have something pretty and sparkly to look at while performing such unpleasant tasks.

Smaller new daughter asked me the other night if I was going to spend the night again. I told her yes. Then she asked about it again the next night. So I told her I lived here now and I would be spending the night every night. She hasn't quite figured it out yet. That's all very cute, but then this morning she told me, yes told me.....Robyn you haven't fixed us breakfast yet! Huh? I've been here 5 days and all of a sudden it's my responsibility to fix you breakfast? What?

The Pastor preached a really good sermon last week (and every other week before that). Anywho, it was about that widow woman who gives all she has. I've heard that story before about 82 times, but I've never heard it from this perspective....the Pastor talked not so much about how fab it was for the widow woman to give all she had, but about the greedy evil people who ran the Temple and how they just took and took and took.

The condo, my former residence, is all cleaned out. I'm glad it's cleaned out and we have everything at the house now so we (well...really just me, nobody else should touch anything) can get the house sane and clean and organized. But I must admit when we were working on it last night I felt myself getting a bit misty-eyed about leaving the residence that represented such independence for me.

Speaking of independent women, I was telling the Pastor yesterday exactly how much money I had in my bank account. I was really proud of me! I told him, and then he laughed at me. Then he said nobody could say that he married me for my money! Well duh! Of course not, he married me because I'm cute and he wants to buy me pretty things because I pick chicken meat off of bones and buy him a new tube of toothpaste because I love him and I don't want him to get irritated because I keep taking his tube of toothpaste out of the shower.

it's all about me, me me!!!
The kids seem to be adjusting well to our new blended family. Everybody was worried about the kids, as well they should be....but people should be worried about us because we have three kids! Oy! People should especially be worried about me because technically I have tripled the amount of children I have. The Pastor already had two kids, so one more really didn't make that much difference, and let's face it....he also acquired me, and that's a real bonus. But believe me, there is a huge amount of difference between having one kid and three. It's the difference between a slice of bread and a whole loaf.

the first taste is with your eyes

Genius Coffee Pot
Apparently there are some genius coffee pot makers at the Kitchen Gourmet company . They made this wickedly cool coffee pot with a timer on it. You put the Starbucks coffee in it at night...and in the morning....voila'.... you have coffee. It is the loveliest thing. I figure we are only one level of technology away from having a robot house boy that will actually bring me the coffee.

Since I married a man of God, miraculous things have happened:
1. I have made my own coffee two mornings in a row. Thanks to genius coffee maker. I expect Starbucks will be calling me any minute to check on my well-being.
2. I made dinner one night in a row.
3. People ate the dinner.
4. People said the dinner was good.
5. Nobody got food-poisoned.

I'm not trying to make a big deal out of this, but I even made people take pictures of the dinner. Photographic evidence. Not only did I make the food, but it was a lovely presentation...you know, because the first taste is with your eyes.

I won't belabor about how I was a bride. But I was. And I was quite pretty. And sparkly. And our wedding was perfect. Absolutely perfect.

I really like watching the Pastor get his sermons ready. He has a book and a bible. He flips through the book. He puts the book down. He flips through the bible. I don't think he can be actually looking at any of the words on the pages of either of the books, because he is flipping too fast. Unless maybe he is some sort of genius speed reader, which he might be because he does have a lot of hidden talents (like bowling). Anywho, then I say to him, is your sermon ready? And he says ""ehhhh"...."I pretty much know what I'm going to say". Sometimes he writes little notes on random pieces of paper and sticks them in the bible. So I worry about the sermon (like I have to stand up and give it!) because stuff is going on in his head which I can't see and I wonder if his sermon is ready.

Then on Sunday, he stand up and gives the most amazing sermon. It's really cool. And then I tell him "your sermon was good". And he says "eh...I wasn't happy with it". But he should be.

Blog entry which formerly contained several curse words but was then edited because I am going to be proper pastor's wife and must clean up act.

Exactly one post dedicated to dreamwedding2005, as there has GOT to be about a bazillion wedding related blogs out there...

I must be stressing out about the wedding more than I want to admit. I had a dream this past weekend. It was dreamwedding2005 and I walked into the chapel (except it really didn't look like the chapel where we are getting married). Mom was there. I asked Mom where my bouquet was. She said it's right here, and had one of those giant rubbermaid plastic containers next to her. The container had a blue lid (must provide all trivial details as I don't know what's important to dream interpretation people!). Mom gave me my bouquet. It had cream-colored roses in it, but -gasp- no gerbera daisies. It was really dinky looking. I got my small child's boutonniere (it was ok) and pinned it on the kiddo. Kid-terrific and I walked down the aisle. When I got to the end of the aisle, to the altar, it wasn't so much the chapel anymore as it was more like a hotel lobby. There was a guy standing behind a podium, like when you go into a restaurant and ask for a table. The Pastor (the one I'm going to marry) wasn't anywhere around. So I stood there for a moment, tapping my foot. People, strangers, were walking by. This one lady with a dark-headed little girl walked by. The mommy said to the little girl "Oh look at the bride! You can go say hi to the bride!" And at that, I had this thought in my dream. I didn't say it out loud, but this is what I was thinking in my dream (isn't that weird that I could have a thought in my dream but not say it?) Anyway, here was my thought in the dream:

Perpetuate the myth lady...perpetuate the myth.

That's the whole dream.

I am sitting here flipping through a cookbook. Prior to marrying the Pastor, I have cooked a handful of times for him: enchiladas, nachos, fettuccine, meatloaf patties, rotisserie chicken & rice-a-roni. Oh and grilled cheese and soup. So I've cooked like half-a-dozen times in 8 months. That is less than one meal per month. Yet marriage will no doubt have an instantaneous domestic effect on me, causing me to cook meals.

I have completely gotten past any sort of feelings I had that it is WRONG for someone to wear a white wedding dress for the 2nd go-round. I said from the very beginning I AM WEARING WHITE. I did not wear white before. At first I was just going to wear my hair up. Then I got a tiara so it changed to hair up with tiara. Then yesterday, I joyfully bought a veil. I cannot express to you how much fun it was to buy a veil. It was TOTAL fun. So now I have up-do, tiara AND veil going on. Mom, who is all about social etiquette, seems to have gotten on-board with the whole who-cares-that-she-has-been-married-before-and-is-wearing-a-white-dress-tiara-and-veil.

OMG. Just saw date and realized I will become Mrs. Pastor Poodle Hater in 10 days.

My bottom has grown to sizeable proportions. A couple of thoughts on that:
1. Of all the times Mom could have made the beloved oatmeal cookies, she's chosen now. Evil cookie making woman!
2. He loves me! He really, really loves me! This is the fatest I've been the whole time we've dated, and he STILL gave me the ring!
3. Let's just hope the Pastor likes a little cushion.