Today was a bizarre day with a bizarre beginning.

It all started at 3 a.m. when I woke up inexplicably awake and hungry. So hungry that no matter how hard I tried to distract myself with soothing, relaxing, sleep-inducing thoughts, my mind continually returned to food. Pancakes, specifically.

This was a little boggling to me since the night before we attended a church Christmas party where I ate a LOT. I had taught Zumba right before and came famished. And pretty much ate my weight in roast beef, real mashed potatoes, gravy, rolls, carrots…it was so good.

So as much as I tried to reason myself back to sleep it didn’t work. I finally got up around 4:30 a.m., went downstairs, turned on Christmas music, and made myself pancakes.

When the pancakes were gone I popped in Emma with Gwyneth Paltrow and did some online Christmas browsing. (What else are you going to do at 5 a.m.? Something practical like laundry? No way.) I finally crashed on the couch after 6 a.m. until Wes woke up at 7.

The next bizarre thing that happened was that I went shooting.

You heard me.

It was part of a church activity for the guys, and wives were invited. They successfully lured us out into sub-freezing temperatures with the promise of glazed donuts and hot chocolate. Pretty much manna from heaven.

This is the first time I ever held a gun. Do I look like I know what I’m doing?

If you said “no,” you’re right. John helped me and I shot it a couple times before my hands iced over and threatened to fall off. Not only was it FREEZING but there was a storm blowing in, and the wind was fierce.

I didn’t know this about John (and we’ve been married seven years), but the man can shoot. He hit the clay pigeon every time. He only started missing when the fellows were playing Annie Oakley (I know–who knew there were guy shooting games?) for a long time and his own fingers started icing over and threatening to fall off.

Here he is, and if you look closely at the sky you can see the orange clay pigeon that he just shot into three pieces.

Once I had my two shots of glory I was kind of done and joined the rest of the womenfolk in normal womenfolk-type things, like in-depth conversations about menstruation, menopause, and hysterectomies. Good times.

And the bizarreness didn’t stop there. After the activity ended we arranged for our babysitter to stay with Wes longer so we could actually go to a movie together. We never do this. We sneaked in $1 (actually, they’re $1.19 now) chicken sandwiches and bacon cheeseburgers from Wendy’s for lunch.

We saw Blind Side. I had serious doubts about the film when I saw Sandra Bullock in the previews with blond hair and a twangy southern accent. I was so wrong. SUCH a good movie, such a good story. And Sandra Bullock gave the performance of her life.

We were glad to be home at the end of all this, but we had fun together. Don’t EVEN ask how much I ate today. All I know is that I totally ate enough that I won’t be waking up again tomorrow at 3 for pancakes.

One of my friends (Melissa) got me a ticket to the 12:20 a.m. showing of New Moon the day it was released. After I agreed to go I had serious second thoughts because, um, who is it that’s always dead tired by 9 p.m.?

Oh, yeah–that would be me.

But as it turned out I had no trouble staying awake, even though I was tired. Maybe it was the adrenaline from Zumba mixed with the anticipation of seeing my boyfriend, i.e., Edward. In any case, I was alert the whole movie and the drive home.

The night started with my Zumba class in Lehi at 8 p.m. I used two songs from the “Twilight” soundtrack to get us in the mood, plus I wore my vampire shirt. I used it to experiment with t-shirt cutting.

Zumba was insane that night. Usually when I get to class there are a few people lined up outside, waiting to go in once the class before ours is finished. But when I got there Thursday night about twenty people were already in line. The facility puts a cap on the number of people allowed in to Zumba, but we exceeded it. The front desk sent someone up to ask me if they could let more people in even though there weren’t any more passes. I let them in. Everyone had fantastic energy and we had a good time.

Melissa’s in my Zumba class, and afterwards she kindly let me into her home to shower (since I live 20 miles away). We headed to Chili’s for a late dinner wiith her sister- and mother-in-law.

We each wore a Twilight shirt for the occasion to appropriately profess our love (we have the same boyfriend).

We saw a lot of different Twilight t-shirts at the movie theater. And a few guys. My favorite t-shirt was worn by a guy and said, “Real men read Twilight.”

We had a few minutes to pose with our boyfriend.

And with our boyfriend’s rival, Jacob.

About the movie…it made me like Jacob a lot more. But I may have been a tiny bit swayed by his rockin’ body. And I’m not even shallow like that.

I thought the movie was funny and entertaining. Unless I was drugged over with fatigue and just thought it was a good movie. I think I would see it again.

Melissa and I agreed that the only real downer about the movie is that we see Jacob walking around for half the movie shirtless (see “rockin’ body,” above). And then near the end Edward takes off his shirt and…well, it didn’t really compare. At all.

But we’ll still take Edward over Jacob.

Did anyone else see New Moon yet?

Lately a few people have asked if I’ve dyed my hair. I’ve looked at them like, “What?” Of course I haven’t dyed my hair. I wasn’t even sure why they would think that.

Then today I noticed that the hair around my face actually IS a lot lighter. My natural hair color is brown with copper undertones that show up more when my hair is wet or in the sun. The hairline around my face, I realized, is VERY coppery. Almost orangey. Even blondish in some parts.

I stood there lost in confusion as to why my hair is suddenly changing colors, like the leaves on trees.

My first thought was hormones because I’ve had some miscarriages and I’ve noticed that since they’ve started I’ve broken out more frequently with acne. But why would hormones affect hair color?

And THEN I realized that because my face has been breaking out in acne, far worse than it ever has before, I’ve been using cleansing pads on my face, which I’d never had to use before. (They totally work, by the way.)

So then I was thinking, would cleansing pads affect my hair color?

As it turns out, yes.

The directions (which you have to peel off the label in order to view) include a few important gems, which I never saw until now:

1. Contains Hydrogen Peroxide. Wash hands after using product.

2. Limit use to the face and neck.

3. Avoid contact with hair or dyed fabrics, including carpet and clothing, which may be bleached by this product.

So. There you go. I have been self-bleaching my hair without even meaning to.

Today for our family activity we visited the temple grounds.

Wes walking to the temple.

There’s a fountain out front that Wes had his hand in for about ten minutes before we finally pulled him away from it.

Wes has a shiner on his forehead from bonking into a coffee table last week.

Here are some things Wesley did on his Last Day as a One Year Old.

He went outside to play.

He read books.

When the joy of functional play wore off he resorted to random destruction.

So I stuck him in front of the TV to give me some respite. Can I tell you how much I love Signing Time videos? Wes only recently developed an attention span for them, but he really seems to enjoy them. I’ve never seen him quite so entranced.

Today I made a cake for his birthday, which we will hopefully celebrate tomorrow along with another BYU Cougar win.

And how do I celebrate Wesley’s Last Day as a One Year Old? By remembering the painful contractions I was having exactly two years ago tonight and then rejoicing that I’m not in labor today! Instead of moaning through pain I’m listening to Zumba music, updating my blog, and eating ice cream. Happy Last Day!

We’ve had door-to-door salesmen stop by each day this week. Sometimes I think I should post a sign on my door like the ones I see on some of my neighbors’ doors that say, “No Soliciting.”

But mine would be more specific.

“Do not knock on my door if I don’t know you.
Do not knock on my door if I don’t want to talk to you.
Do not knock on my door if I’m not dressed yet.
Do not knock on my door if the baby is crying.
Do not knock on my door if I’m in the middle of something.
ESPECIALLY do not knock on my door if you’re going to ask me if my mom is home.”

That last rule is the real deal breaker. No matter how promising your sales pitch is, you don’t stand a chance when you ask a 28-year-old woman who’s married, has a kid, a mortgage, and a college degree if her mom’s home.

And every single salesman, every single time, asks me that. Even when I’m holding Wes.

At least it cuts their visits really short.