Homemade Blueberries and Cream Oatmeal

I don't know about you, but my absolute favorite Quaker Oatmeal flavor is Blueberries and Cream. I don't like any of their other Fruit and Cream flavors, but the blueberry one ONLY comes in a box with three other fruit flavors. Bummer, I know. I've definitely written them about rectifying the situation. In the meantime, instead of spending money on a box of oatmeal when I'm only interested in a quarter of the contents, I learned how to make my own. I usually take a morning to assemble a bunch of these in plastic baggies, and then each morning grab one and eat to my heart's content. Healthy, comforting, and delicious.

Also according to my Ayurveda type, exactly how I should be starting my day, so win-win-win.

(Note: this is not how the oatmeal actually looks. I took this from the interwebs)

Yay!

1/4 C. Quick oats (You could probably use other oats if you want to put in more cooking time, I'm a lazy oatmealer and all I do is add hot water and stir)
1 T Hazelnut non-dairy creamer powder
1 T Dried Blueberries (I take an hour or so and chop the whole bag of dried blueberries into fourths because I like how small they are in the Quaker Oatmeal packets, but again, I'm strange and also have an abundance of free time)
1/4 t cinnamon
A sprinkle of salt

Ta da!

Feel free to add other things, adjust, and let me know what you come up with! I'm always down to experiment!

PS Want more meal ideas? I use the meal planning app Mealime and I LOVE IT SO MUCH. It's FREE, it has all kinds of settings you can put in place like if you want meat in every meal, sparingly, or not at all, gluten free, dairy free, you can exclude foods you just don't like, set how many meals you want to make each week and how big they need to be (ie, do you want leftovers?), you get an exact shopping list for each recipe, and each meal takes roughly 30 minutes from start to finish! GUYS. It doesn't get better than that. I currently have it set to gluten free and dairy free and easy on the meat. We're not gluten free or dairy free around here, but I like the idea of eating less of those things, and if the recipe ever calls for 'gluten free bread' or anything I just use the normal stuff.

We have loved every recipe we've tried so far. I'm not making money off of this or anything (I mean, have you SEEN my blog? People aren't paying me to say stuff.) I just wanted to let you know about this cool thing in my life that I love.

Let me know what you think!

Puppies!

I am not an animal person.
I am not a dog person.

I'm an animal person to the point that I can appreciate a cute animal, and if someone hands me a puppy I won't complain. But if that puppy starts clawing at me or peeing on me I'm like ok who can I give this to?

But almost a year ago we bought a house, and for some reason in my mind the next step after you buy a house is to get a puppy. Where did I get this idea from? I have no idea. The hubs was on board, because he's always had dogs, but I kept going back and forth between the part of my mind that kept going, "PUPPIES!!!" and the part of my mind that knew puppies meant pooping and peeing and dog hair on my clothes and chewing on cords and shoes and who knows what else. I decided that we would only get a puppy if we found one that I felt REALLY good about. Which is silly because who ever holds a puppy and doesn't feel REALLY good about it? Puppies are great.

So the Greenville Humane Society is about 30 minutes from our house, and we went to look at dogs about once a week for a while. We also checked out another shelter nearby that only has older dogs. I walked a bunch of dogs and held a bunch of dogs and wasn't feeling it.

Until one day when the GHS had a new litter of (what they said were) Australian Shepherd puppies and they were the CUTEST little barely-three-pound puppies you ever saw. There was one that caught our eye right from the start. She was asleep in the back corner of the crate, unfazed as all the other puppies crawled over and around her. She had the most beautiful symmetrical little markings, white on top of her head, white socks on each paw, white at the tip of her tail. We held her and we were done for. Twenty minutes later we walked out of there with little Aurora, who we later renamed Abby, after our realtor, whose initials are AB. Cuz we're weird like that. And we really liked our realtor...

As a side note, Abby turned out to be a Jack Russell Terrier/Boxer mix, aka a Jack-in-the-Box, which worked out well because Australian Shepherds have really long hair which would have ended up all over our house and probably been the death of me (thanks allergies!). The first few months with Abby were touch-and-go, where we were constantly considering getting rid of her because I was dying of allergies and asthma anyway. It turns out getting an adorable dog that you want to cuddle with and rub your face on is a bad idea when you're really allergic to dogs. I couldn't breathe, my eyes and lips were always swollen, and I was constantly sneezing. We tried a few different things that helped, and I got smarter about doing things like touching the dog and then touching my eyes. Also I got tested and learned that I'm allergic to a bunch of other things that just exist in the air and the house, so then I went crazy and got a bunch of hypoallergenic bedding and it worked wonders. These days Abby and I live in happy harmony, we even get to cuddle and she sleeps in our bed. (Bad idea, in a moment of weakness, but we're not sure how to go back now. Plus THAT FACE).

So we've had Abby since September, and for unknown reasons I recently had another case of puppy fever. (Weirdly, the part of my brain that wants babies has not yet kicked in. But the part of my brain that wanted puppies flared up without warning, so I'm not too worried.) Andrew was able to talk me down each time I brought up puppies, reminding me that I like to travel and two puppies means double the cost/trouble trying to find someone to watch them. But then I got back from my trip to Utah with no planned trips on the horizon, and PUPPIES became my clarion call. I kept trying to get Andrew to come with me to the humane society with no luck, and he finally said that if I happened to come home with a puppy he wouldn't be upset about it, but he would not assist with this madness.

So of course two days later I came home with a puppy.

It started with an instagram post from the humane society announcing that they had a new litter of Chihuahua/Beagle mix puppies and they would be available on Wednesday. I figured what's the harm in checking them out? Uh huh.

You know exactly what the harm is.

One hour later, after I managed to snag a puppy that someone set down (those things went like hotcakes!) and little Meadow and Abby met each other and it seemed they would get along, I marched out of the humane society with my new little pup.

Marched is a strong word, more like I barely stumbled out of there on my own. Abby was dragging me along, everything about her attitude said "GET ME OUT OF HERE!" and Meadow was in a constant tangle as this was her first time on a leash and I think she was in a mild state of shock. I wonder if any bystanders were questioning my ability to care for two dogs. I certainly was, at that point. Especially when Abby wormed her way out of her collar and tried to avoid getting in the car, which is her least favorite thing. Anyway, I got them both home alive.

...Where my usually perfectly well-behaved angel of a dog proceeded to turn into a snapping, growling maniac whenever the new puppy got near ANYTHING of hers or even looked at her sideways. The entire first evening was an exhausting blur of keeping Xena (as in, the Warrior Princess, renamed by Andrew) from chewing or peeing or pooping on anything, while keeping Abby from chewing on, growling at, or generally abusing tiny Xena. By the next morning I had realized my terrible mistake and had posted Xena on craigslist for sale.

But then that day something weird happened, proving yet again that I know nothing about how the dog brain works: Abby and Xena became best friends.

Weird, right?

So, the craigslist ad came down and now my life is basically a dream. I have two adorable puppies who follow each other around, eat out of the same food bowl, wrestle, play tug-of-war, wear each other out, and then snuggle with me. It's the best.

PUPPIES!!!

27 Years

On the eve of my 27th birthday, I'm having one of those, "how have I even been alive for 27 years?? What did I do with all of that time??" moments. So, to make myself feel better (and for your everlasting entertainment) I'm writing a list of 27 things I've done in these 27 years.

1. Was born. Nailed it.
2. Modeled in Japan
3. Learned to speak, read, and write English like a boss
4. Grew a whole mouth full of teeth. Twice.
5. Memorized and recited "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" as well as "Green Eggs and Ham" as a toddler, to the delight of guests in the Larsen household
6. Graduated from Elementary School - with flying colors
7. Lived through an entire year of middle school before deciding to homeschool instead
8. Had my picture taken to be a poster girl for BYU Independent Study. Apparently my picture got tossed in favor of someone hotter. Still one of the biggest bummers of my life.
9. Stalked my high school crush and was asked to stop by one of his friends #awkward
10. Dropped out of high school as a result. LOL jk.
11. Joined the swim team, conveniently became afflicted with the worst case of swimmer's ear the doctor had ever seen just in time for the Regional swim meet
12. Made it until my 19th birthday before both getting my driver's license and being kissed. Big year.
13. Worked a summer in the BYU computer lab and managed to eat my weight in powdered donuts #lifegoals
14. Learned French, was a missionary in France and Belgium, and had my skirt fall off in the metro, to the delight? horror? of my fellow passengers
15. Learned to make French mousse from an amazing French lady, used it to seduce my husband
16. Met a hottie online, talked him into becoming my husband
17. Kissed 10 boys before finding said husband, something I had previously told a coworker I would NEVER EVER do because EW. Never say never, right?
18. Lived in Utah, Japan, California, France, Belgium, DC, San Diego, and South Carolina
19. Bought a house! (Almost)
20. Bought three cars. Gave one away, sold two, inherited my current car from Husband
21. Graduated from BYU! Now we're really out of order. I'm just writing things as I remember them.
22. Started to get a spotty memory, apparently #oldage
23. Got really, really, really good at hashtags
24. Worked as a mower of lawns, landscaper, salsa maker, computer lab assistant, blogger, web designer, temple worker, french teacher, executive assistant, artist, and now unemployed housewife and recipe tester
25. Read the Book of Mormon a grand total of 27 times, and Anna of Byzantium 10 times. Don't know why, that book just gets me.
26. Got pulled over 6 times, and only got ticketed twice. It's my adorable face.
27. Drove across America 5 times, 3 times solo

Not bad. I was really on a roll there at the end, too bad I'm only 27. I hope you all enjoyed this more than I did. If not, I'm sorry about that time. You don't get it back. That's life, I've learned. I'm so wise, now that I'm almost 27.

Spoiled, part 3. Aka "Last the Best of All the Game"

The title is misleading, because actually part 2 was my favorite story of the series. But I thought it, so then I had to use it. To avoid hurting my brain's feelings.

Ok, story number 3.

December 2014. Washington, DC.

In which the author makes terrible life choices and somehow everything turns out okay anyway. 

So, January 2014 I moved from Provo, Utah to Washington, DC. I was a college grad in an expensive city, it was my first time being big-girl in charge of myself, and I got my first credit card.

The perfect storm.

By December 2014, I had a good chunk of debt. Whoopsies.

I'd actually racked most of it up in the first half of the year, and had spent the second half trying to chip away at it. In the grand scheme of things, I hadn't been in debt that long, or been trying to pay it off for very long either. But I was done with that phase. I was like, I get it, debt is bad, my bad, I want to be done with this.

So I prayed.

I said, hey, I'm sorry about living beyond my means and getting into debt. And I realize that chipping away at it little by little for a few years would probably build character, but I really don't love that idea. I would really love to somehow make a large chunk of money and be able to pay off all my debt at once and then just continue on my merry way. So, if you could help me figure out a way to do that, that would just be amazing. Thanks.

**Not that the two of you who read this will care because you love me so very deeply and forgive me my obvious character flaws, but I just wanted to note that I'm not advocating for flippant prayers or calling on God like you would a handyman (as Angela from the Office would say, "God is not your caterer."). This really is about how the actual prayer went, but mostly because I didn't think that was the kind of prayer that got answered, I was just voicing it. But then it did. So...yeah. Most of my prayers sound more reverent and normal than this. And I don't always ask for things. If I did I would probably have more things.

Anyway.

A few weeks later, the woman who owned the small company I did website work for approached me. I had been working more or less full-time for them, and she said that the company did not have any upcoming contracts and therefore didn't know how much they would make in the coming year. She suggested that instead of continuing to work full time and getting paid hourly, the company put me on retainer. This meant they would pay me a lump sum and then I would work as needed until the sum was spent. She proceeded to write me a large check, oblivious to the fact that she was answering my prayer.

#Nailedit

I paid off my debt, worked off the rest of my hours, and moved to San Diego and got a new job just as the money was running out. Then I married this sucker who pays for my stuff now.

So, there you have it. 3 ridiculous prayers, each more selfish than the last, all answered because #PrayerWorks and because sometimes Heavenly Father is just cool.


The end.

PS, this is my 400th post! Whoa. 400 posts in 10 years. Yikes. You guys have put up with a lot.

Spoiled, part 2

Ok, this is my personal favorite of the 3 stories, because WHAT.

You'll see.

So, there's this story in the Book of Mormon that is one of my favorites. I used to share it with the missionaries in the MTC to teach them the power of praying in specifics.

It's Jacob chapter 7, and it makes me laugh every time. So Jacob is a prophet, and he's awesome. And there's this bad dude, Sherem, who is going around teaching people that the gospel of Jesus Christ is bunk. See? I told you he was bad. And he's all, I'm super good at convincing people how dumb their beliefs are, I want to talk with this prophet guy and make him look dumb also. In Jacob's words, "He had hope to shake me from the faith" (me paraphrasing now) even though I've had revelations and seen angels and HEARD THE VOICE OF THE LORD (epic), "wherefore, I COULD NOT be shaken" (over-capitalization added, obvs). Jacob's the best.

So it's a showdown. Sherem comes to Jacob and is like, blah blah blah and Jacob is like, everything you're saying is nonsense because [insert powerful testimony here] and Sherem's like, nah bro.

Jk. What Sherem really says is, show me a sign. And Jacob is like, ain't nobody got time for that. But then he says, "Nevertheless, not my will be done; but if God shall smite thee, let that be a sign unto thee that he has power, both in heaven and in earth; and also, that Christ shall come. And thy will, O Lord, be done, and not mine."

Bing bam boom, Sherem passes out.

When Sherem wakes up, he's like, I'm gonna die tomorrow, but I need to share my dying words with everybody. So everybody gets together and Sherem says *spoiler alert* "I was wrong, I lied. Jesus is coming, the Church is true, read your scriptures and pray for my soul."

And then, and this is the part I've been building up to so hopefully you're super excited...

Sherem passes out again. And then EVERYBODY passes out.

Jacob's looking at this, at everyone he knows passed out on the ground, and (this is possibly my favorite line in all of scripture) says,

"Now, this thing was pleasing unto me, Jacob, for I had requested it of my Father who was in heaven; for he had heard my cry and answered my prayer."

Haha, what? I don't know about you, but I would really love to know specifically what he prayed for. For all the people to fall down? I'm gonna ask him when we meet up in heaven.

And then I'll let you know.

Ok, that was a really long explanation of the story that is just the launching board for my own cool story. So, I teach this story to my missionaries, and then I forget about it for a while.

Then, January 2015, I'm chilling on the floor of my apartment in DC (see here if you need a refresher on this phase of my life) and I'm re-reading this story and I'm like, oh man! I forgot about this gem! I need to be praying more specifically! So I sat up and thought, what is something I would really like to have happen? And then (I wish I could say I wished for something selfless and amazing, but I did not) I thought, my baby sister is about to leave on her mission for 18 months and I want to see her before she leaves! And then I thought, I can't afford to just fly home to Utah to see her. That'd be nice.

Bing! Prayer idea.

So I prayed another ridiculous prayer. I said, "Heavenly Father, I would love to go home to see Kari again before she leaves me to serve your peeps in Africa. So if you could help me do that for free or for really cheap, that would be amazing. Thanks."

Yeah, I really pray like that.

Guess what happened.

I remembered that I knew a fellow in the DC area who would pay people to drive cars from DC to Utah to be sold. Bingo. But, to keep it cheap, the best way to do that would be to get some other human to come with me so we could switch off and get more driving done, ideally not stopping to stay the night anywhere. (This was back when I was young and my body could do those kinds of things. Now I'm old and tired) I hopped on facebook and sent out the bat signal, asking if any fellow adventurers would be down for a spontaneous 33 hour drive to Utah.

Within minutes a friend had responded with, "Are you trying to get to Utah? Because I'm flying down there this weekend and I can get you a buddy pass for $12."

WHAT.

Universe: "Mic drop."

I flew home that weekend to see my baby sister. I paid $12. Plus hopefully I bought that guy a pizza or something because I had some sense of manners...

So, that's story number 2. Spoiled, guys. Spoiled rotten. I'm telling you, prayer is the way to go. **Full disclosure, I'm getting paid for this blatant advertisement in blessings, so take it all with a grain of salt...**

Spoiled.

Guys,

Sometimes I feel spoiled by the Universe. It's almost like I'm cheating at life and I haven't been caught yet. But now I'm confessing. Sometimes I cheat.

(I had to stick a wedding picture in here, because of reasons)

It's called prayer.

Haha. Gotcha. Don't stop reading though! This is gonna get good.

Ok for reals though, I have three stories to share that I think about whenever the topic of prayer comes up.

Story numero uno:

August 2011, Paris France. I'm staying in an apartment with 3 other sister missionaries in Paris, and I'm having a great time. In the morning I have to take a train by myself to Brussels, to rejoin my companion at the time, a native French speaker who I don't really get along with. We don't jive. I'm dreading it.  As I kneel to pray that night, I want to be a good missionary, but I also want things to let up. I want something easy.

I say, "I'm going to be on the train by myself tomorrow, and I know that whoever I sit next to, I need to share the gospel with. I know that. And I will, I promise. But" I sigh heavily, "if you could just make it easy, or if the person sitting next to me could speak English, that would be amazing."

In my heart I think it is a faithless prayer. But I think if I could just have this one boon - one missionary conversation where the person I'm talking to is not fighting desperately for an out, where maybe they even want to talk to me, and where maybe they aren't psycho but totally normal and someone I relate to - then maybe I could continue to preach another day.

These thoughts running around in my head, I go to sleep.

The next day I bid those lovely sister missionaries farewell and board a TGV to Brussels. I find my seat, next to the window, and wait nervously for my unwitting neighbor to find his seat, half hoping no one will appear.

He does appear. He sits and rummages in his bag for a moment. I turn towards the window, already mentally backing out of my promise. I can't do it. He's young, only a few years older than me, but tall and self-assured, well dressed.

"Excusez-moi, est-ce que vous parlez anglais?"

Excuse me, do you speak English? The question, and the questionable accent, startle me from my window. "Yes!"
 A sigh of relief, from him. "Do you have a pen or a bobby pin? I need something small..."

I don't remember anymore what it was, but he was trying to jimmy something, a phone or watch. As he fiddles with the bobby pin I provide, he asks me another question.

"So what do you do?"

The easiest way to bring up the gospel, for sure. I'm a missionary, for my church. I came from America, learned French, and spend my time teaching people about Christ.

"I've seen your temple."

He is Dutch, and had studied for his Master's degree at NYU. He passed the temple in New York City often, and had wondered about it before. He has been raised with Jewish traditions - the son of a Jewish father and an atheist mother - but leans atheist, and isn't technically a Jew as that status comes through the mother's line. He is at a crossroads in his career, considering taking a job in Korea, and wondering for the first time if it wouldn't be better to believe in a God or higher power who could help direct him.

Alain is his name. We talk easily for the entire train ride. I find myself sharing some of the deepest parts of my testimony more clearly than I ever have before. He thanks me as I get off the train in Brussels. He stays, continuing north to his parents' home in the Netherlands.

Alain is the answer to my prayer. He is the easiest missionary discussion I have ever enjoyed, and all in English.



Well... I was not planning on waxing so mind-numbingly verbose in this story, so maybe I'll share the other two stories as separate posts, because this baby is LONG.

So... to be continued!

She

She had, her whole life long,
been a chaser of the light
Always seeking
Sometimes stopping
Wondering when she would arrive

And then
One day
She turned to find

That she'd been shedding light
Birthing it
Her whole life long

It sprang forth from her fingers
It glistened on the just-left grass
It floated up and joined the stars
It wove into the past

When she laughed the light awakened
When she spoke it came to be
When she cried it shone, it goldened
Splattered, sprinkled, flowed and freed

The valleys that she had passed through
Were brighter for her having been there
The mountains boasted better views
The rivers and creeks glittered
And revealed their turquoise depths
Like never before

One day
She realized
She was the light
And she laughed
And danced

And went on laughing
And dancing
Forevermore

And the light burst forth
Never to be darkened