The Boy Likes Sugar (Don't They All?)

A Christmas Wishlist

It's a melancholy day and I'm wishing I had Ivanka Trump's bank account and Jessica Biel's figure (and Reese Witherspoons hair, Tina Fey's sense of humor, Carrie Underwood's voice, Kate Winslet's accent, etc, etc).

A few items I'd love to introduce to my closet:

An Announcement

Pretty much all of my friends announced their second pregnancies this past month.

So, to follow suit, I have a little bit of an announcement . . . .
















Shane got me Garth tickets for Christmas (as a surprise but I found out). 3rd row.


And I cried when I found out.

Cried.

And now, dare I say, all my dreams are coming true.

Oh, and I think he's the cutest Wasatch Wasp I've ever seen.

I've Been . . .

Going crazy with a broken heater

Going to babysit two little boys everyday for a few hours (an easy job for the extra shopping money)

Going to play practice three times a week (a community play, Christmas Carol)

Going to my mom's house everyday

Wanting to go to Salt Lake for a while now

Wanting to meet my cousin's new baby, Jane 

Meaning to put the folded laundry away

Meaning to do my visiting teaching
Loving the frosty weather. Soup weather! (think positive)
Loving Midway and my ward calling "Assistant Relief Society Pianist" - ha!
Missing PR and working at an agency
Dreaming in black and white

Kissing Logan whenever I can

Booking plane tickets (Phoenix, Virginia, California, ah!)

Reading nothing

p.s. Shane's little brother could use a lot of prayers this week with his multiple surgeries. He has melanoma and they removed his lymph nodes, but still found more cancer, so they're going deeper. As of now he has a hole bigger than a golf ball in his skull. Poor guy.

Provoized

Twenty Six

Happy birthday to the wittiest, smartest and most responsible big brother a girl could ask for.

Sorry for all the bloody noses and empty gasoline tanks.

Completed

Sometimes I think about Shane.

And I think . . . how come he married a girl like me?

A girl who complains, whines, takes week long trips and spends lots of money.A girl who can't keep a secret, finds showering a total waste of time and has the patience of two-year old.

How did I get a boy like him?

A boy who comes home and cleans, who tirelessly lets me vent. An enormously mild-tempered boy who loves children, cleanliness and doing the right thing. A boy who loves to work AND play.

I hope every girl can find thier Shane.

The Island of Concrete

A few highlights:

- WICKED!!!
- Mary Poppins, In The Heights, Phantom of the Opera
- Getting bullied, shoved and chased by a homeless woman who wanted to steal my mom's water
- Waking up at 5 to go to Good Morning America
- Meeting Dr. Oz (he's so nice)
- Carmine's Pasta
- Naked Cowboy
- Daily Sephora stops to do our makeup

More pics to come . . .

p.s. I missed my boys sooooooo much. It was such a relief to see Logan safe and happy this morning.

One word to describe ny: itchy. I Don't know if its t.id cold, the atmospheric filth or my wool scarf. All three probably.

14 Months Old

Logan,

     You have become so much more than a baby this past month.  When I think back to when I first found out that you were a boy I was so excited to play ball with you and wrestle with you.  Now I am realizing how much real hapiness you bring to your mom and I.  Every day you make me smile and laugh and thank our Heavenly Father that he has sent you here to be part of our family.  The best part of my day is when I come home from work and open the door and you run to me with your arms stretched out and yell dada dada.

I love all of your games like when you feed everyone your food.  Or when you when you chase mom around the room.  It is sad to hear all of the things I miss when I am at work.  Like when you used your diapers as a stool to climb up on our bed.  I can already tell you are going to be a mischevious one.

Love,
         Dad

24 Hours

I'm going here for a girls trip with my mom and little sister.
And for my 2 followers, posting may or may not be limited. Oops, one of those followers is my mom and the other is probably my little sister, so nevermind.

Painted Rug

I read a post here and here that inspired me to try some DIYing.

I found this rug at the thrift store (of course) for $10. Well, actually my mom bought it for me so it was free.

The rug before:

The pattern (I traced it off the computer, then onto a piece of cardboards. Whitetrash style.):

So, I just rolled paint on the piece of cardboard and put it on the rug. Easy cheesy.

Rug after:


I was going to use it under my kitchen table to protect the carpet, but I'm not like totally in love with it so I'll probably just use it as an outdoor rug. We'll see. But I would like to try this again, and have the results turn out more like this:


I think next time I'll use fabric paint instead of acrylic.

Working Title

Some men may be hating this man right now, mostly because he keeps retiring and changing his mind. And because he keeps being stupendous.

I don't know much about all that.

But I do know that I like me some Farve.
And, in other news, I've decided to resurrect my love of horrible video-making and post them here.

Nothing yet, but one is in the works (don't get too excited, I nod off watching it).

Here's something Logan did today, though. I love me some Logan.

You Could Say I'm A Fan

Since I can remember, I have loved Garth Brooks.

Like, loooooved.

Like, I get ferklemped just thinking about him.

Like, I would pay four figures to see him in concert. Without batting an eye. In fact, it's number 1 on my list of things to do before I die.

If you have time, watch this and tell me he isn't the greatest entertainer to ever live.

Jeez, I can't even watch the video without tearing up.

More Evidence I'm Turning Into My Mother

I'm addicted to the thrift store.

There, I said it.

It opens on Wednesdays at 10. I'm usually there at 9:45, waiting in line with the other junkies.

I go Thursday, Friday and Saturday, too.

Mom says she had to make a rule she could only go once a week. I tried to make that rule.

But I can't stop.

p.s. Thriftery loves company. Anyone want to join me?

There GoesThe Grocery Budget

After the BYU game Saturday (Shane's cousin plays for CSU and his whole family was at the game and I had to draaaag him there. He's become such an annoying U fan. You know the type that won't even go into Provo without vomiting. So annoying.) we couldn't find our car.

Shane parked it next to the Buy Low. You know, the parking lot next to Olive Garden, Training Table, the 8, etc.

I was pretty sure it was stolen, taking into account our great luck with cars (read here).

But, no. Towed.

I Couldn't Get Past Bambi's Eyebrow Removal

The GRE kinda sounded easy to me.

Probably because it sounds a lot like GED, and I've heard that's easier to pass than drivers ed (which I don't know why I was thinking that was easy. I failed drivers ed. Twice).

Anyway, it's not easy.

I was up past midnight JUST taking the "diagnostic quiz," which tells one how much one needs to improve to actually get a score a college will accept.

And believe you me, I am one who needs to study.

Here's one of the questions:

OK, you're supposed to find the relationship between the two words and find the best answer that matches it (relationship-wise). Yeah, I don't get it either.

PLUCK : FAWN

a) vim : wince
b) nerve : presume
c) humility : vaunt
d) banjo : strum
e) frugality : economize


Get this right and I'll send you a REALLY COOL PRIZE.

p.s. Dave, you're not allowed to answer this and make me feel like a complete idiot.

4 Wheeling and Brad Paisley

Logan's second ride.

Grandma, Grammy

Grammy and Papa

Yes, quite the change in scenery. This was the drunk mother/daughter duo in front of us.

Tim, Kelly, Shane

He's always on the phone in these pictures.

p.s. I'm not like the biggest Brad Paisley fan, but the concert was awesome.

My McSteamy

The PC Medical Center opened yesterday. It's pretty much the Beyonce of hospitals. Sorry, Taylor.

I'm trying to think of a pain-free way to go and stay there.

I hear this like totally hot guy manages the Physical Therapy office.

13 Months Old

Dear Logan,

Here we were thinking that you were going to be one of those children. You know, the ones who have to study algebra for hours and hours before understanding the concept of FOIL. The ones who stay up til the morning hours trying to figure out why that joke everyone was laughing at was so funny.

I know because I was one of them.

All of our friends with babies your age have been talking about all the funny things their starting to say. Hi, More, Mommy, Bed, Book, Ball. You haven't said a word all month.

And then today, when the Deacons brought the sacrament over you stood up, flexed that cottage cheese booty and declared "FOOD FOOD FOOD".

Atta boy.

It seems that's the only thing these days that motivates you. I could dress up like Bozo, unicycle and all and you wouldn't crack a smile. But pull out a sucker or those animal crackers and you'll recite the constitution backwards. In spanish.

You're starting to understand when you're in trouble. My serious tone of voice is no longer funny to you and your lip quivers for three minutes before you burst into tears. This I love. You proceed to bury your head in my armpit, grab my shoulder and sob. But give it two minutes and we're laughing again reading the Wocket Pocket book.

You're so easy to take care of. You sleep well, eat well, never get sick and now know how to go up and down the stairs. I'm kind of dreading the day we start over with a sibling and do this all over again.

I love it being just the 3 of us.

Mom

Two Things

1. you guys YOU GUYS
Who watched SYTYCD? Philip?
Be still MY heart.

I have a thing for tappers. It all started in my sixth year with my slight obsession with Singing in the Rain. Which led to my bigger obsession with Gene Kelly.


2. I gave in and bought this today.
It really works and it really is painless. It takes way longer than normal shaving, but it doesn't leave your legs all dry.

I'm kinda, I don't know, psycho when it comes to smooth legs. I can go four days without showering, no problem, but those legs have got to be clean shaven every day, dangit. Seriously.

Keeping Score

Numero Uno
We have this chipmunk. Hiroshima-Confucius, Master of the Morning y Farm Rooster Wannabe. Hi-C for short.

Shane entertains thoughts of popping him with a bb gun.

Lucky for Hi-C, he left his Official Red Ryder Carbine-Action Two-Hundred-Shot Range Model Air Rifle in Virginia.

To date, Hi-C=32, Shane=0
I like Hi-C.

Numero Dos
There's this woman that lives inside of me. I call her Neve (like Neve Campbell). She says blasphemous things to me like this:

But hair takes soooooo looooong to bloooowwwww dryyyyyy

Why shower if you're just going to have to on Sunday before church?

Cut-offs and a T-shirt is acceptable apparel for . . . just about . . . anything.

Dressing nice is for those shmucks who work.

3 days without showering isn't that bad. Besides, you never wear those hats you bought once.

Don't put on makeup now. You'll just have to take it off in 6 hrs before bed.

Or better yet-
Why wash your face now? You're too tired and that way you won't have to put mascara on tomorrow.

This week, Neve=3, Jamie=0
One of these days I'm going to one-up her.

Numero Tres
Logan seems to think he's still short enough to frolick beneath the table, a ritual he's been practicing for at least 2 months.

One of these days he'll learn.

Yesterday, Table=4, Logan=0
I'm letting him learn the hard way. Neve contributed to that school of thought.

The Passivist Project

So my dad and a few other family members are flying all the way to DC to participate in the 9/12 march.

I wanted to go, and even entertained the idea until I realized I know nothing about it.

I've been on a political hiatus for about two months, what with the move, a new town that has one radio station (Rush where are you?) and a class I took at Education Week about the Savior.

In the class, the teacher (name . . . um . . . Thomas Waymant) discussed scripture after scripture showing how the Savior is and was a doctrinally-clear passivist. In all things.

For instance, when Jesus presented the "higher law" (which some refer to as the new law in relations to the laws of Moses), he chose to not necessarily change the laws, but insisted we act on a more celestial level, e.g. . .

1- Thou shalt not kill.
Jesus said to refrain from angering at all with one's brother.
2 - Thou shalt not commit adultery
Jesus said if a man looketh on a woman to lust . . . hath committed adultery in his heart (Matt. 5:28)

and so on . . .

I'm so rambling here, but I hope you get my drift. Time and time again in both the Book of Mormon and the Bible, Jesus reveals himself as a social and political submissivist. Always resisting anger, contention.

And although I completely 100 percent believe people need to stay active in politics, vote, and in some instances, picket and march, I think what I was doing before was just feeding this devil inside me with, albeit pertitant and true, information to dog on someone else. Or attack a friend I knew felt another way. Or feel superior in some way. Or get my own blood boiling reading comments on KSL or DesNews.

Sick, I'm stupid. I'm really not a naturally passive person, shocking for those who know me, right?

But here's to a long pursuit. Wish me luck.

A No Good Very Bad 24 Hours

Dear Karma,

Have mercy.

Love,
Jamie


p.s. the last 24 hrs included hitting a parked car, denting my dad's truck (two separate events), selling only TWO headband at Swiss Days yesterday, oh and no one came to girls night. Haha. Channeling Lucille Ball here. . .

p.s.s. I'm only posting this because sometimes I like hearing about ppl's bad days, call me selfish. So maybe this'll make someone's day.

p.s.s.s Oh and I realize there are ppl out there with cancer, UTI's, no food and missing limbs, but can't I complain once or twice?

Missing Snores

I woke up this morning after a loooong night with Logan to find this on our sliding door. My first thought was to scowl at him and deny him breakfast (kidding).

But then I thought of a story I heard once where a woman was complaining to her widowed friend about her husband's loud snoring. Her friend replied like this: "Yeah, my husband had the same problem, and I'd give anything to hear him snore again".

And then I thought about all of my friends who have had and are having
hard times getting babies.

I'm lucky to have these small dirty handprints, scattered toys, sticky countertops and
poopy diapers decorating my home.

Sometimes, today especially

I wish this were me:

Remember those days? I'd dream all summer of my perfect back to school outfit, which usually ended up being some type of pink sparkly skirt with brown loafers. I'd lay out my outfit weeks before school even started and organize my trapper keeper and spacemaker dozens of times until I found the optimal layout for coloring ease.

I'd hope, nay, PRAY that a family with a good-looking boy my age had moved in during the summer and he'd been selected to be in my class, sitting by me. We'd even share colored pencils and and those handled-pencil sharpeners.

I'd wake up two hours early, giddy with excitement. I'd fiddle with my hair until I eventually had my mom fix it. I'd create the perfect fold in my ruffle socks, each side the same. My backpack would be more organized than the White House; pencils in their own pocket, lip smackers (Dr. Pepper was a must) in the front, glue sticks, Lisa Frank folders and my lucky pog (a diamond-encrusted frog design I had saved two months to buy). I was so proud.

My brother would walk me to the bus stop where we'd be nervously chatting. Was there something in his teeth? Was his hair combed just right in the back to hide his cowlick? Were my shoes tied right and could he tie them in a double knot for me? Could he adjust my backpack straps?

The bus would pull up which triggered the tummy flip. My hands are getting clammy just thinking about it. Oh, the nostalgia.

The Cleverist Girl I Know

Candace, sometimes I don't know where you come up with the things you say and do. I wish I could do that. . .

El Nuevo Lugar Y Dos Coches

Still a work in progress . . .

If you look closely, you can see some of my blood on the white window panels. My skin's slightly allergic to broken glass.

And if you can't tell I only have one Euro pillow. I'm waiting for the thrift store to get one more.

The desk we've all seen before, just a little messier this time.

We seem to have such a peaceful marriage when he's napping.

This is the car Shane built Logan for his birthday. Isn't it wonderful?

If we ever decide to build something again, I'm gonna save a dozen trips to Home Depot and buy a gallon of gorilla glue BEFORE we start. That stuff rocks.

All the toys fit in the back.
And since we didn't want Logan to feel all spoiled, we went out and bought a new car.

I'm especially excited because this is the car I'll be driving (we sold Zorro to Shane's brother) and I've never ever had a car with one of those remote thingies that unlocks the doors. I've been pushing it for the last hour just because I can.

Did You Know?

Midway is the most perfect place to be this time of year.

And soon I'm going to write a post about the many parelles existing between Midway and Stars Hollow (my and the Gilmore Girls' favorite town).

But for now, just take a look at what I get to wake up to every day.

People - why aren't you coming to visit me?

12 Months Old

Dear Logan,

Your first year has come and gone without you even knowing it.

And one year ago I was a working girl. I could go to the grocery store BY MYSELF, buy pretty much whatever I wanted (within reason) and know that I could afford it.

I could sleep in on Saturdays, keep a house clean, have 15 minute showers, walk around in a mall for hours.

But you know, you're worth so much more than money, sleep, silence and constant cleanliness. You're perfect in our family.

And although taking care of you is definitely a chore, I'm so glad I get to do it.

Love,

Mom

p.s. this month you took your first step, exploded with your signing and can identify me as "mama"

p.s.s. you love your daddy more than me, but that's okay