So we've had this little dinosaur sweater in storage for five years.

I picked it up from the outlets based on my (mistaken) mother's intuition that I was expecting a boy. Of course, that winter we were bundling up our little bundle of joy primarily in pinks, so dino sweater was packed  away.

When baby two was on the way, I pulled out the sweater, again thinking (again wrongly) that it was a boy. Back into storage it went.

This third pregnancy I was SO sure it was a boy, that I had decided it must be a girl. A reverse psychology of sorts.

Aaaaaaand...strike three.

Ultrasound shows an undeniably-boy baby growing away inside me. At first all we could feel is shock. We love our baby girls so much! What do we do with a boy? But over the past few weeks the excitement has begun to build--especially when I think of that patient little dinosaur.

Only, do you think the babe will mind wearing a sweater in the sultry, sweltering summer I imagine our parched desert land has in store for us?

Cause he's gonna be...



Usually it's a pretty good life, being Victor.

But some days, some potty-training FAIL days, being a chair (even an orange one) is rather overrated.

Yep, that is exactly what you think it is.


When your middle name is Valentine, it's a bit pitiful to mostly skip over the whole of Valentine's Month on your blog. Especially when it might have been the sunniest, warmest Utah February in the history of my memory (sorry Polar Vortex friends!), AND we squeezed in a trip to Colorado, the Moon, and even Mars.

I mean, what else is a blog for? Right?

*Bonus photo: gigantic chocolates!!


"Why are you so jiggly these days?" 

That was Charlotte's kind query as I emerged from a relaxing shower last Sunday.

Before I could answer, she and Hazel were off again, giggle-wiggle-shimmy-shaking themselves all over the house in an uncanny imitation of their, well, jiggly momma.

But no hard feelings here; as a normally flat figured girl, I actually don't mind a few extra pregnancy pounds. It's the softening up in other places that sometimes makes the nine months of gestation seem a little excessive.

Like the loose ligaments--I think my hips are quite literally falling apart. Or the wobbly emotions---even Winnie-the-Pooh makes me tear up these days. And being in the temple? Fuhgetaboutit.

But the most irksome side effect of my little in utero companion is the mushy brain. I'm not talking about forgetfulness and disorganization; nah, I live with those cranial frailties every. day. of. my. life.

It's how during pregnancy, I can't THINK! I can start working on a good thought, but it just tangles up before I can get to the end of it. And then I get so many unfinished thoughts crowded up in there, it's like I have hurricane head. When I try to sort things out the usual way (pen to paper, baby), I get a busy signal...TV static..the curs-ed blinking cursor on a glowing white screen.

Hence the radio silence from My Orange Chair.

But even with the dusty blog, the brain blocks, the sappy sentiments, and the sore joints, I can't think of a state-of-being in which I'd rather be than eagerly anticipating the addition of another baby to our family.

Now please excuse me, as there is a post-breakfast-dance-party happening in the living room and I've got some moves to contribute.

Yep, extra jiggles and all.


These two little-miss-muffins of mine aren't perfect, but they sure have big hearts. Isn't it the best how toddlers and preschoolers can't hide their love? Their feelings just radiate from them in quiet giggles and squeeeeeze hugs and glittering eyes. This Valentine's Day I'm hoping I can become more like them.

Big slobbery kisses and all.


For a mom of two girls, I came a little late to the Frozen scene. It took a couple months of their friends' Frozen-chatter and several youtube videos of Olaf to  even interest my rather anti-princess-movie daughters. When we finally did see the film, however, they were entranced.

I'm a little more on the fence about Frozen, especially now that princess-prentending is beginning to sprinkle their playtime. (Stop growing up, girlies. Seriously.)

But today I want to write about something I did love about the film, and it's probably not what you are expecting me to say:

The troll musical number!

(Here's a youtube link to someone's upload of the song...is that illegal?)

So in the song, these mossy rocks come alive and start singing about the ways in which the character Kristoff could make a great "fixer-upper" for Princess Ana.
Why are you holding back from such a man?
Is it the clumpy way he walks?
Or the grumpy way he talks?
Or the square-shape, pear-shaped weirdness of his feet?
So he's a bit of a fixer-upper, but we know what to do.
The way to fix up this fixer-upper is to fix him up with you.

Weird, frankly, plus the whole "fixer-upper" concept is a silly view of love and marriage that I don't subscribe to.

But half-way though, the song takes a surprising turn, and I can't stop thinking about it:
We aren't saying you can change him, 'cause people don't really change.
We're only saying that love's a force that's powerful and strange.
People make bad choices if they're mad or scared or stressed,
But throw a little love their way, and you'll bring out their best.  
True love brings out the best!
Everyone's a bit of a fixer-upper, that's what it's all about.
Father, sister, brother; we need each other
To raise us up and round us out. 
Everyone's a bit of a fixer upper, but when push comes to shove,
The only fixer-upper fixer that can fix a fixer-upper is
True, true, true, true love.
What at first seemed like a random talking-rocks love song thrown in the middle of the movie, ended up delivering, to me, the most important theme of Frozen. In fact, I don't think this song is even about Kristoff and Ana. It's about Ana and Elsa.
People make bad choices if they're mad or scared or stressed,
But throw a little love their way, and you'll bring out their best.
Ana needed love; she was hurt and lonely after years of isolation and looking for that love from the wrong source. Elsa, too, needed love; she was afraid and lonely after years of isolation and going through a "no right, no wrong, no rules for me" stage (to quote from Elsa's Let It Go song-monologue...songologue?)

In the end [semi-spoiler-alert!!], the only thing that could save the princesses and their kingdom was their sisterly love for each other. What a refreshing concept, Disney! And I don't think it applies only to animated princesses.

True story: When Brian married me over six years ago, I had some poor communication habits and unhealthy relationship beliefs that might have caused a lifetime of strife and hurt for him. Instead, as he has just loved me, loved me, and loved me some more, those weaknesses (that I sure hope aren't really "me" anyway) have started to become real strengths in our relationship.

Now I certainly didn't have the insight or strength to make those changes on my own  so I can personally attest to the "powerful" force that Brian's love is, and chalk my improvements up to that and the grace of God. I still have a long way to go before I am my "best," but I have the great blessing of a family and Savior that always love me as I muddle along that road.
Father, sister, brother; we need each other
To raise us up and round us out.
Ya, I think the trolls have converted me to the "fixer-upper" view of love after all: that is, we are all fixer-uppers and love--true love--really is the only fixer-upper fixer that can fix a fixer-upper.
That's what it's all about.


An orange elephant, an orange cupboard, and of course, an excellent orange chair...

Just the way to start a week off right.

source (maybe? bad pinterest link...)