So, my dreamy husband made a late-night run to the store tonight and this is what he purchased:

Yep.  Cauliflower.

He has found some low-carb, low-calorie alternative to mashed potatoes in which he boils cauliflower, then mashes it up with milk, butter, and salt & pepper.  He thinks it's good.  We think it smells like feet.

But, who am I to argue with results?  He IS pretty dreamy.

Hey, remember when I posted that glib post about how when I went to Blackpool in 1992, we had the most technically difficult dresses known to man?

I was wrong.

THESE guys do.  

This is the current team, the ones who were practicing in the Spanish Hall in my previous post.  It turns out that their dresses LIGHT FREAKING UP, and not only do they light up, but they have computer chips in them that make the LIGHTS CHANGE COLOR at certain points in the music.  And, they suddenly stopped working two weeks before the competition, causing the engineering students who designed them to go into their own dress-induced panic-mode.

But, they got fixed and were apparently dazzling at the competition in Blackpool, where they won and got a first-ever standing ovation.  So, 21 years from now, one of these girls can write a glib blog post about how she wore the most stressful Blackpool dress ever and the current team just doesn't know how easy they have it, even though that current team will be stressing about some fancy malfunctioning aspect of their dresses.  Although, in 21 years, I can't even imagine what fancy thing will not be working just days before the competition.

So, you know that we ordered a new table and chairs and consequently sold our old ones over a week ago.  Well, the new stuff came and when the guys set up the table, it was broken, so it had to be reordered.  

Now we have chairs, but no table.  Every time I pass this room, I feel like it is set up for a church-basement-type support group.  I kind of want to sit down and say something like "Hello, my name is Jill and I am a recovering Story Junkie." 

Except, that would be a lie.  I'm not recovering, nor do I have any intention of doing so.

I've said before that the best thing about our move here to Texas is that Brad is once again in our lives.  I love that he occasionally will come home for lunch, just because he can.

Sadly, our refrigerator doesn't always support this habit.  Today, poor Brad came home for lunch and the best meal he could scrape up was cheese sticks wrapped in lunch meat ham.  Sorry Mann.

Memorial Day. 

 

While the rest of America gathers with friends and family for sunrise flag ceremonies, visits to graves, or backyard barbeques, the Texas Bitners go to a movie and Mexican food.

 This photo was posted on Facebook today.  The current BYU Ballroom Dance Co. is in Blackpool, England preparing for their HUGE competition this week.  Blackpool is THE ballroom competition every year, but BYU only goes every three years, and they have a long-standing tradition of winning the formation team competitions in both the Standard and the Latin categories.

 I went in 1992 and practiced my Standard medley in the Spanish Hall, just like these guys are doing.  I see this picture and can just smell it--the old musty hall, sweat mixed with Powder-Fresh Secret solid, mixed with my partner's Speed Stick, mixed with the laundry detergent that I used to wash my leotard the night before in the bathroom sink.  Oh, and gum.  You have to have gum when you're dancing this close for that many hours.

As sweaty as these girls probably are, they have it easy compared to our 1992 team.  After months of practicing 10-20 hours per week, we debuted our medley at a pre-tour show at BYU in May.  We had fancy/shmancy dresses that actually were two dresses in one, so we began the routine in red, then with a rip of a bunch of snaps, we transformed into white.  But, at the pre-tour dress rehearsal just a week before the competition (the first time we'd ever danced in the costumes), we learned a few key things about these dresses: 

1) when you have two-dresses-in-one, they are heavy--12 pounds to be exact--and when you spin with that much extra weight around your body, you spin crooked.  And slow.

2) the snappy things that are supposed to rip apart in one awe-inspiring motion and change the color of your dress don't always rip apart very easily, so the man ripping the dress of his partner has to RIP THE DRESS HARD without throwing the poor girl to the floor.

3) those dreamy, gauzy scarfy things that are hooked on your shoulder and wrist will become irreparably tangled in the tiara bobby-pinned to your elaborate up-do.

So, we hit Blackpool with only a week before we competed and went into full-scale, dress-induced panic mode.  We spent nearly every waking minute rehearsing in those dresses--those hot, 12 pound dresses--in the un-air-conditioned Spanish Hall in June.

I don't have any pictures of our Spanish Hall rehearsals, but here are some shots of the rehearsal we did on the actual competition floor of the Empress Ballroom:

 See, we started off red.  

(We referred to this intro as The Attack of the Killer Tomatoes.)

Then de-snapped and went to white--ta DA!!

(That's me on the far right.  You can see that the one girl's dress didn't desnap correctly.  I can guarantee that we did an immediate do-over.)

This photo was taken during the actual competition--which we won, by the way.  The dresses looked a LOT better than they felt ... and smelled.

Here are all us Standard girls just after we danced.  We were smiling because not only did we win, but we were now done with wearing those stupid dresses eight hours a day. 

So, this is me wishing the current BYU Standard Team lots of luck in Blackpool.  Because, I've been there and I know how it feels to have the pressure of years of BYU teams before you winning and hoping you aren't the one to break the streak.  

But, I'm also reminding them that they don't know how good they've got it.  Because, we had to do it wearing the heaviest dresses ever made, hoping we didn't get trapped in the wrong color.  Oh, and we also walked to rehearsal uphill both ways, barefoot in the snow.  

So, y'all better win.

Since we spent today in a cowpie-ridden field of wildflowers getting some family photos taken, I thought I'd post one of the first family photos we ever took.

The Brad-and-Jill-Bitners circa 1997.

And just in case you were wondering, there were no cowpies in this one.

 I am TOTALLY stealing this picture from my sister's blog.  These handsome fellas are my nephew Erik, Luke, and my nephew Austin in summer 2007.  She says that this summer she wants to pose these three exactly like this and take a picture of them as they look now.  I hope she does, but I'm pretty sure it won't be as cute.  For one thing, they all have hair now.

Oh, the things I do for my kids.

This is Adam at his baseball team's end of the year party, which was held at a local restaurant where parents were invited.

To the average, normal, person, this sounds like a great time.  To me, this is torture in its highest form.  Being forced to socialize with a large group of people that I don't know, especially when it feels like they all know each other, pretty much gives me hives. 

I mean no disrespect whatsoever to the nice people who were there, or the awesome coaches that worked with my son all season.  No, they are not the problem.  It is my own introverted, inherently shy, borderline hermit self that is at fault. 

So, if you will excuse me, I need to go yell at the neighbor kids who are playing on my lawn.

I don't know why this works, but it does.  If you put a wooden spoon over a boiling pot, it won't spill over.  My brother Jeff told this to my sister Jodi, who told me, so now I do this every time.

If you are about to type a comment explaining the physics behind this, don't bother.  I won't read it.

 

 Tonight, our ward YM/YW activity was a Pinewood Derby.

Those of you who know Brad know he was ALL over this.

Alas, the best we can report is that Adam took 3rd and Pepper, sadly, did not place.  I should point out that this Derby was run very casually, so the results would have probably been different had they adhered to the usual Derby rules of racing.  There was an emergency purchase of Krispy Kremes on the way home.

As you can see, Lukie had by far the most fun.

So, I've admitted that I am a Story Junkie.  And, I've made no secret of my obsession with anything dance-related.  Well, tonight, my story-junkiness and my dance obsession were married PERFECTLY in Derek and Kellie's freestyle on Dancing with the Stars.

They did a "simple" contemporary number that actually wasn't simple at all--it just didn't have any of the back-up dancers and razz-ma-tazz that the other freestyles had in spades.  It was just two people dancing perfect choreography to the perfect song and it BLEW ME AWAY. 

 I have been known to sit alone upstairs and scream at my television screen when a really good dance happens.  Tonight, I sat up there and wailed.  It would have been embarrassing if it wasn't so justified.  It literally brought tears to my eyes as I watched two people have to completely trust each other as they danced to a song that was all about letting down walls and letting someone in.  I cried as hard as I did when Derek danced with the blind girl.  

There is just something so right about a story told with beautiful music, poignant words, and movement that brings it all to life.  Oh, Derek.  My life is so much better because you are on my TV.

Watch the whole dance here (the good stuff starts at 2:20).

We ordered a new kitchen table, so we listed our old one on Craig's List.  We had a buyer come pick it up tonight, and I have to admit, I was a little sad.

 Brad bought me this table and four chairs for my very first Mother's Day.  Jess was less than a year old.

Now, sixteen years later, this table is going to its new home.  We've had to replace the chairs a couple of times, but the table is still going strong.  And, now it's gone.

At least we still have Jessica.

Last baseball game for Adam today.

It was also a play-off game, and they played the one team they weren't able to beat this season (they lost to them twice, both in extra innings, by one point).  In the last inning, Adam's team was behind 1-3 with one out and Bubba took the plate ready to sah-wing.  You should have seen the way he was standing there staring down that pitcher--it was awesome!  First pitch was a ball.  Second pitch was a strike.  Third, he hit a foul ball.  Fourth, he hit another foul ball that was almost fair and HARD.  Fifth pitch came in really low--looked below the knees to me--but the ump called it a strike, so Adam was out. 

The next guy struck out, too, so the game was over.  Tigers' season was over.  But, we were so proud of Adam and his team and how they handled themselves.  It was an intense game--two of their players got beaned good by the pitcher--and it was blistering hot, but they all played hard and acted like gentlemen.  They should be proud of their season.

One thing was weird, though.  I kept expecting a major rock star to appear at one of his games, and it never happened. . .

 

 What does one do on a Friday morning when one's parents are in town?  One goes to a movie, of course!  We went to see 42, which we all really liked and then went to lunch.  So fun!

Tonight was Luke's first t-ball play-off game.  His team has done really well this season and entered the playoffs as the first place team playing the eighth place team.  His coach was on fire all week getting these t-ballers ready for the playoffs, and this was going to be the first of the wins that would take us all the way.

Here is Luke sliding into home, even though there isn't a defender within a mile of him--it's just cooler to slide.  That is his coach on the left in the black and white.  He has been GREAT with the boys all season, taking a ton of time practicing with them and helping them build some solid skills.  The fact that his team was in first place was HUGE to him.

The black stuff under Luke's eyes was applied by the coach before the game--he put it on the whole team.  This is the perfect example of how much this little team and the play-offs meant to Coach Rob.

Well, I know you've already figured out how this game ended.  Lukie's team lost to the eighth place team, ending the season and dashing Coach Rob's dreams.  The kids didn't even care--one boy walked away still thinking they'd won--but poor Coach Rob is going to need some therapy.  He put on a brave face for the team, but it was painful.  His last "Go Pirates" cheer looked a little forced.

Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy.  I really blew it today.

I've mentioned before how much Adam is loving his choir class at school.  A couple of weeks ago, he auditioned for a solo part in his upcoming concert--it was a several step process, and every day he'd come home and update me on his progress.  We were SUPER excited as he made each cut and eventually ended up earning a solo.

Then, we found out his concert was going to happen on a night when my parents were here (they came to TX for my Josh brother's graduation from medical school and stayed with us for a few days).  So, his big moment was going to happen in front of grandparents--perfect!!

Well, tonight was that concert.  Jess called me after school and told me she was going home with a friend, so I agreed I would go pick her up before the concert.  We dropped Adam off, then drove to the address Jess gave me--and drove, and drove, and drove.  It was WAYYYYY farther away than I thought, and with each mile that ticked away, I knew I was doomed.  

You know where this is going, don't you?  The Grandparents and I missed almost all of Adam's concert, showing up while the girls' choir was doing their part.  We missed all the of the boys' choir numbers and, of course, Adam's big solo.  Brad was there--he came straight from work--so at least there was one familial face in the audience for Adam to see.  But still.

All I got to see was the big combined number at the end.  So, here is my little broken-hearted son bravely singing his heart out.  Sorry Bubs.

 Holy cow.  Welcome to Texas.

So sad.

We had to say good-bye to another favorite missionary tonight.  Elder Abbott (holding Joey) is being transferred tomorrow.

This one especially stung because Adam's baseball league changed the play-off schedule at the last minute, so I had to leave to take him to his game before the missionaries even got here.  Brad, Jess, and Pep were all there to give him his send-off, but I didn't get to say good-bye.  

At least Adam won his game.  If they had lost, I'd be really grumpy.

This is my favorite TV two weeks of the year.

 Dancing with the Stars has not ended yet, and So You Think You Can Dance is just beginning.

It's a magical, magical time.

 *sigh*

I love Mother's Day.  I love bouquets of flowers, breakfast in bed, homemade cards, Sunday dinner cooked Not By Me, and the overall unspoken rule that everyone has to be nice to each other so we don't ruin Mom's Mother's Day.

Today was full of perfect moments.  I captured this one with my camera:

 This happened while I was inside Doing Whatever I Wanted.  Jess was picking flowers to put on the table--set with a tablecloth--for my Mother's Day dinner and Brad was grilling steaks for said dinner.

Perfect.

WARNING: If feet gross you out, DO NOT continue (Cousin Michelle, this means you).

Today was a sports watching marathon.  Adam had a baseball game, Luke had a T-ball game, then Pepper had a soccer game.  All one right after the other.  Like back-to-back, have to take two cars so one parent can leave one game slightly early with the appropriate child to make the next one, back-to-back.

After spending eight hours in the sun, the silhouette of my chosen footwear is now branded permanently onto my feet.

Good thing I like these sandals--I'm going to have to wear them all summer now.

We saw it.  We loved it.

I hope Robert Downey Jr. will always stay clean.  It would be a crime to rob the world of his awesomeness again.

Happy Mother's Day to meeeeeeeeeeee!

When these got delivered today, they literally took my breath away.  Brad Bitner, you have truly out-done yourself!

Does anybody else do this?

 You know, pass the table at Walmart that has piles of $5 t-shirts, stop to see if they're cute, and end up with a whole mess of them in your cart because you can't decide which color you like best?

Yeah, me too.

 In July 1987, I turned 18, and this is a gift my mom gave me for my birthday.  I had just graduated from high school, and was eagerly anticipating my freshman year at BYU, where I had plans to live in Heritage Halls with my cousin (for those of you not well-versed in the BYU Freshman Experience, Heritage Halls are the apartment-like dorms that have their own kitchens).  Since I was going to be doing my own cooking, my mom had gone through her recipe files and typed a bunch of my favorites on 3x5 cards, then organized them in this little blue box.

Nearly 26 years later (wait--can that be right?  Whoa!), this little blue recipe box is still my go-to for my favorites.  I've added to it over the years (usually with recipes from Mom), but it is still  full of these little, 26 year-old typed cards.  Every time I pull one out, I imagine my mom at the desk in our den, carefully rolling these little cards into her old wheezing beast of an electric typewriter, figuring out the spacing (a magnificent feat, in my book), and typing away.  A couple of cards have White-Out on them--those always make me smile.

You can see that in the 26 years since I got this, I've used it a lot.  There are remnants of cooking successes and failures all over the outside of this grubby little box (and several of the cards), and the lid has long since become its own entity.  But, somehow I can't seem to make myself clean it up or--heaven forbid!--replace it.  Someday, when I die, somebody is going to find this little box in my cupboard, just as it is, or probably even more grimy.  If nothing else, it will be proof that I did cook once in a while. 

Or, more importantly, that my Mommy loved me.

Something I am really loving about springtime in Texas is all the wild flowers growing randomly in the fields.

Seriously, is there anything more romantic?

(As an added bonus, I got not one, but TWO, drive-by cat-calls when I was by the side of the road taking these photos.  Officially, I'm offended, but if we're being honest...well...*giggle*.)

Question:  Is there anything better than watching the smarmy TV character you love to hate fall down the stairs in a tantrumy huff?

Answer:  No there is not.  Thank you Mad Men for totally making my night.

Watch Pete Campbell take his tumble here.

WARNING:  This is going to be a Mama-Brag post.

Today at Lukie's T-ball game, he earned the MVP award because he got all three outs in one inning,  He was playing third, and twice he caught the hit and tagged his base, and once he caught the hit and tagged the runner.  Let me remind you that THIS HAPPENED IN A T-BALL GAME, and T-ball is the sport in which it is most common for both teams to score the five-run limit before they end the inning.  In other words, there are almost never any outs.  And Lukie GOT THREE IN ONE INNING.

Yeah.  It was amazing.

Last night after work, Brad was feeling kind of blue.  Nothing major, just a case of the Mid-week Blahs.  So, he spent a good part of the evening on the iPad, dinking around the internet and just sort of indulging in whatever struck his fancy.

When he came to bed, he handed me the iPad so I could plug it into the charger.  That is when I saw the last site he'd been fantasizing about:

 Oh, how I love this man.

Apparently, pride goeth before the fall.

After my smug post yesterday about the beautiful Texas weather, we had a cold front move in today--cold enough that all the kids' sports practices were cancelled.

So, we stayed home, had pancakes for supper, and roasted marshmallows.

Also awesome.

I understand that it snowed today in Utah.

How sad.