Next Year I Am All Over Hibernation.

I am sorry to be a Debbie Downer lately.

I know it has something to do with the craptastic Utah weather.
We keep getting stupid snow, cause all the Utah Mormons keep praying for "moisture."
Not me.
The other Mormons.

I can't take it anymore!
I am having serious issues over the weather.
Even my kids wince when they open the blinds and discover snow, and know that I haven't yet glimpsed out.
None of them want to break it to me.
Or be around when I scream.

I haven't exactly clocked out on life, but I haven't exactly been thrilled to wake up in the morning...to live the same day over and over.

Take for instance my sink this morning.
Chock full of bowls.
And when the actual bowls ran out, the kids used Tupperware/used Cool Whip containers/mixing bowls.
You moms out there can translate that into "we've been living off of a whole lot a cold cereal, cause mama doesn't have the heart to cook dinner."

We do have leftover hard boiled Easter eggs, however.
If you get the hankering for a residually neon colored snack.

I am trying to look for bright spots in my life.
Really I am.
They are always there, if you dig deep under the heaping pile of steaming turd.

My van has smelled like it is burning for about a week.
Seriously, when I am stopped at a stop light, the smell wafts up.
It is even worse when I am parked.
Like burnt plastic.
I told Sam to look at it.
He is the man of the house, and is supposed to take care of that type of thing. Right?
Just like I am supposed to take care of...uh, dinner?
Crap.
Okay, wait! Wash! Yes!
I am not a laundry failure.

I asked him to look, cause all we need in our life right now is to fork out cash for a burned up engine or belt or something.
(Did I mention my speeding ticket was $340.00?)
He gave the van a sideways glance, and said it was fine.
So I dug deep into the recesses of my brain, and remembered my Dad taught me to check oil and fluids in a car.
So I did.
And they were fine.
Sam was right.
I was still really worried.

Finally Sam himself drove the van to church on Sunday, and could not take the smell anymore.
He actually crawled underneath the van to pinpoint where that smell was originating from.
I was crossing my fingers that it was a quick fix...
The verdict?

At some point, I guess I had run over a large plastic bag, that was now bubbled and charred and welded onto the muffler.
That's right, folks.
Melted bag.
Temporary.
No repair.

I guess I do have some good luck after all.

And in related news, this is what I found when I went to wake Mikayla up for church on Sunday:

And in case she wasn't clear, this was inside her room, by her bed:

I told you that girl was smart.
And I think she is onto something.

I need to get a sign:
"Closed. Due to Lack of Interest."
For the kitchen.
The laundry room!
The bedroom...

It's been a darn long winter.