The Mr. and Mrs.

The Boomerang Effect

2012-01-28T14:44:00.000-06:00

On Monday I held a boomerang in my hand. One that had "Grace's Weekend of Fevers" written across the wood. I stood in a clearing and I chucked it as hard as I could. Good riddance. Cabin fever had set in and I was ready to get out of my apartment and ready to have my babe feeling better.

The funny thing with boomerangs is that they come flying right back. Darn it. On Thursday night as I kissed Grace goodnight, my lips pulled back quickly from the heat pouring off of Grace's forehead. I grabbed the thermometer and took her temperature discovering that her fever was back. That boomerang was in my hands again.

I was hoping for a one time fever. But on Friday when her temperature start flirting with the 104 degree range. I plucked her up and booked it to the doctor. 104 is a bad bad number. To be honest, I was scared, and perhaps I teared up a little thinking on the drive to the doctor's office something scary might be happening. Hormones might have been to blame for that one, although I tend to lean on the side of over-dramatic when it comes to certain situations even when I'm not pregnant.

Her ears, nose, throat, and lungs all check out fine. She passed her "flu test" with flying colors, and it is just a virus. A virus that only causes a fever, apparently.

So we are in jammies, watching movies, reading books, and keeping our distance from all the people who aren't sick.

Next time I stand in that clearing, I'm going to throw a really heavy rock. One that doesn't have the ability to fly back to me.

Sick Weekend

2012-01-22T14:57:00.005-06:00

On Friday we were awakened by a soft whimpering down the hall. Grace was pitifully sitting up in her crib with tears streaking her bright red cheeks. When I scooped her up in my arms I could tell right away that she had a fever. A sick day it was.

A sick day turned into a sick weekend as we battled a fever and a runny nose. It basically looked like this:

By Sunday afternoon the fever had finally given up. I dare say we were victorious in our sick battling efforts. But three days cooped up in an apartment can really mess with you. I think we're both desperate to feel the sun on our skin, breathe in fresh air, and interact with people again. Bring on a new week!

Holy 16 and a 1/2 Weeks, Batman!

2012-01-21T08:00:00.000-06:00

I know I'm not very far along, but by golly, I feel like my belly is out of control. Can you see it this time? And please don't be alarmed. I am not shirtless in this picture. It's a tan colored shirt. (and Yes, I do shower, and yes my bedroom floor is peppered with unfolded clothing.)

Can we pause for a moment and discuss the fact that I'm wearing a maternity shirt? And it fits.

By week 15 I started feeling the baby move consistently. And boy does this baby like to move.

With my larger belly, and my baby's ability to kick me multiple times a day I'm starting to feel like I'm growing the Hulk.

Each day I will my jeans to fit. Each day I end up in sweatpants. I love my sweatpants.

So in the coming weeks, Baby, be kind to my belly. Please.

A loves K

2012-01-20T09:44:00.000-06:00

I'm probably the last person that should be on Pinterest. I have limited abilities when it comes to decorating my apartment, crafting, fashion, gourmet cooking, and entertaining my child in a planned and prepared way. If I pin something, the likelihood that I'll follow through with it is pretty slim to none. So I pretty much stopped pinning things.

But, I did pin one thing. And I fell in love with it. When this little image graced my screen, I knew it had to me mine.

I followed the given link and landed on this etsy shop. I sighed a soft and dreamy sigh as I daydreamed that this necklace would one day be mine. I bookmarked it as "Christmas gift" on my sidebar.

Aaron asked, "What would you like for Christmas this year." I pulled up the picture. "I want this little beauty." By the time I copied and pasted the link into an email and sent it to Aaron, I realized something strange on the etsy shop front page. A short sentence informing potential customers that the etsy shop would be closed from December 5th to January 5th, so that those who already bought items could receive them before Christmas. And then my bubble burst. It was December 7th. Shop closed.

Christmas came and Aaron, as always, pulled through in the gift department, despite me not really asking for anything else. He's a wonderful man.

Days and weeks went by, and I completely forgot about the necklace.

Yesterday morning I woke up and started getting ready when I noticed a small box on the table with a heartfelt hand written note. And inside the box I saw the necklace.

I love this man I married, and most of the reason why I loved the necklace was because it expressed that sentiment. Metallic proof that we both still dig each other, a lot. He knew I loved the necklace, made sure to place an order when the etsy shop re-opened, checked the mail daily to make sure that I wouldn't find it, and then set it out to surprise me in the morning. He's a definite keeper.

A really does love K. But K loves A a whole lot, too.

Notice Anything?

2012-01-19T15:44:00.000-06:00

Do you notice anything strange about the picture below? I mean, aside from the lack of pants, bib, and hairdo my child is sporting. Look really hard. Do you notice anything amiss? Did you notice it the first time I posted this picture? Be honest.

I always thought the Grace letters looked off to me. And honestly, I chalked it up to the fact that the "C" was at more of a downward angle than it should have been.

While on FaceTime with my parents a few days ago, we chatted, Grace read books and showed off in normal FaceTime fashion, and as we were about to say goodbye my Mom says, "You know the letter "A" in Grace on the wall is backwards." I said, "What?" and turned to look behind me only to realize that for 7 months I had never, not once, ever, noticed the letter "A" was backwards. Insert serious forehead slap. I said back, "I had absolutely no idea."

In an instant I thought about the countless people that have been in Grace's room and had personally witnessed my lack of spelling abilities on my child's name, displayed ever so proudly on the wall in her room.

And then I realized that I had posted it for the blogosphere to see.

I felt like a huge moron.

So, now it is fixed, and for obvious reasons looks much better.

So, did you notice it?

Weekend

2012-01-16T23:06:00.003-06:00

In the grand scheme of weekends, it was nothing special. We didn't do anything out of the ordinary. Unless you call going to target to get milk after dinner something out of the ordinary.

But it was amazing. Aaron was home for dinner every night over the weekend. Our only documentation being this awful out-of-focus picture on my phone. The flash practically blinded all of us, so there were no do-overs.

But we were together. All three of us. Grace was off the walls with giddy excitement. Taking every opportunity to show off or try to make Aaron laugh. We ate together, talked together, sang, danced, and read scriptures together. And somehow it filled my canteen up enough that I'm hoping to feel less needy this week.

Busy season is a kick in the knee, but it has the ability to make the moments we do spend together a little more special.

Memory Box Continued

2012-01-12T14:14:00.000-06:00

Well the spirit of the Memory Box lives on. After being ever so sneaky-sneaky-sir about smuggling my old memory boxes onto my sister's moving truck last year, my Mom is now down to the final stages of de-cluttering her house. So she is straight sending me memory box stuff. One such brown box arrived a few days ago.

I took time during lunch while Grace was napping to sift through a few of the items. Mostly Senior year graduation stuff, seminary graduation, and, very unfortunately, my senior picture proofs. Proofs, meaning they take a bizillion pictures, let you see them all, and then you choose which pictures to spend your parents money on. I'm pretty sure, back then, I disliked most of the pictures. But now, years down the road, they seem 25 times more awful. Don't believe me?

I'm my personal opinion, no teenage girl should ever be asked to pose like this. I am not AC Slater from Saved by the Bell, I never ever sat like this. But the head tilt is in full force my friends,

I'm lousy at the "Serious Face" pictures, still. I normally just look angry so I try desperately to not look angry and end up looking like I'm listening to Marvin Gaye and trying to seduce the photographer. Case and point. And yes, my eyebrow is slightly raised.

"How you doin'?"

I laughed with Aaron and my sisters about these pictures for a good hour or so. Totally made my day.

Nestled snugly between graduation programs and senior proofs was a picture that knocked me off my rocker. When Grace and I are out and about I get a lot of comments about how much Grace and I look a like. "She's like your little clone, isn't she?" and "There is no mistake as to who your Mom is!" I get asked a lot if I think we look alike, and to be honest, I don't think we do. Grace has so much of Aaron's personality and body shape that I see a lot of him when I look at her. Then I saw this picture and thought for the very first time, "Oh my gosh. I'm brown haired Grace."

I think that is the last of my Memory Box items (right Mom?). So I might just go ahead and seal that sucker off. Cat journals and picture proofs can only be handled every so often. It is now time for Grace to start making her own memories that will embarrass or make her laugh years down the road. I've already had my fun, time to pass the torch.

One Word New Year's Resolution

2012-01-11T21:54:00.002-06:00

Tonight I got home from a friends house. A fellow accountant wife, whom I love, who knows the void of a missing husband in the evenings. I brought Grace home in a different pair of pants. Not the pair she wore originally. Since our vacation Grace has been slipping up in the potty department. Peeing her pants a little and not telling me she needs to go, whether by distraction or otherwise, until I notice or physically take her to the bathroom. It happened at my friend's house.

I got home and went to get her jammies and left her in the bathroom with her toothbrush to brush her teeth. I walked back in and she was standing in a puddle. "Gracie did you pee your pants?" She looked down at her feet in the puddle and looked back at me. Normally I'd try to say something calmly, but tonight, I lost it and I yelled. "Why?! Why did you pee your pants? You are standing right next to the potty!" I was frustrated and annoyed and wondering why (oh why?!) had she started peeing her pants when she never did it before. Her sweet brown eyes filled with tears and she cried. I could tell she felt awful.

We cleaned the mess, hugged it out, got in jammies, and called Aaron to say goodnight. But through it all, I was still annoyed. I knew she knew better.

After I laid her down in bed, I thought about what I said, how she cried, and how I could see in her eyes how hurt she was by my reaction. I started to cry. I made her feel awful. And to be honest it's not even her fault.

I wasn't yelling because she peed, or that she came home in different pants, I wasn't upset because she had been reverting. I was yelling because there is so much going on: home from vacation, busy season, new calling, old calling, dirty house, piles of laundry, doctor's appointments, meetings, new goals, new budget, and the now sprayed on look my jeans have.

All of those things have been churning and swirling through my mind. I feel like I'm not living in the present but living on a mental to do list constantly keeping tabs on my status. Grace has been such a trooper through everything. I've had so many phone calls with Aaron telling him, "Grace has done so well. She has been amazing." Surviving hour long waits at the doctor's office and a 3 and a half hour meeting at the church. Days where I'm constantly on the phone or emailing to set up meetings or help with events. She has been unreal in the best possible way.

But I haven't been as stellar. She'll take my hand to go play with her in her room and I sit as long as I can thinking about all of the other things I could be doing to get stuff done. I am not mentally with her giving her the time and attention she needs, and to be quite honest, deserves.

It took her peeing her pants for me to really look her in the eyes and be right there in the moment. And instead of thinking of how amazing she has been with a pretty absent parent for so many days, and using a soothing understanding voice, I yelled. I yelled a lot and made her cry hard. I didn't offer her the same patience and understanding she has offered me the past two weeks.

Life will always ebb and flow. There will be rainbows and unicorns followed by storm clouds and Eeyores. Life won't ever make sense or be predictable. But for Grace I want one thing to always be predictable, that I love her. Not just loving her in general but having her know, without a doubt, through the crappy and the good, that I love her and care for her. No amount of peed pants, or meetings, or emails, or tantrums will ever change that.

So I have finally settled on my "One Word" New Year's resolution: Love.

Not the general kind, but the specific kind. Showing the people who mean the most to me that I love them regardless of what goes on around me, or what stresses I might be having. I don't want to be governed by stress and take it out on those I love, I want to be governed by love and push aside the stress and focus on what really matters most in the moment.

You can read about the One Word resolution at 71toes and Our Hatchlings

Busy Season

2012-01-09T17:27:00.002-06:00

'Tis the season. Busy season. Most accountants and accounting spouses know what I'm talking about, but if you don't fall under either of those categories I'll shed some light. Busy season is exactly as it sounds. I'm sure all professions have them during the year. For accountants, tax and audit specifically, it is a time that normally falls (yet is not limited to) the first few months of the year. With looming hard deadlines hours are normally early morning to the wee hours of the next morning, seven days out of the week.

This is the start of Aaron's fourth year so we are no strangers to busy season. It is something that is inevitable, and despite the insanity of it all, is quite doable. A wise person once told me that when your husband works a lot you learn to live without him until he comes back. So that became my mantra. I tell myself that at the beginning of each busy season and find myself in the middle of things without any complaints.

But the beginning of busy season? It's a hard transition. It's hard going from Christmas break with a husband around all the time to busy season when you start to forget what he looks like. I blame my hormones, or the government, or Enron (remember them?) for causing my severe neediness this go around. But we're one week in and I miss my husband. I know it will get easier. But right now I'm needy. Poor Aaron is having to deal with a boat load of text messages from me throughout the day.

"Grace fought her nap for 2 hours. When she finally woke up she had no pants on, peed everywhere, and somehow managed to get her baby doll's bib on."

"But she sure cleans up nice."

"Bubbles in the bath tub. This girl is in heaven."

"Lunch time. Wish you were here to eat with us."

"Stickers!"

"Grace says: Good Morning Dada!"

"Grace is starting to make fashion statements. This bib has become a serious fashion accessory."

I guess it's my way of staying connected when it feels like we're constantly apart. Last time he was away this much I basically lived at my sister's house. Now that she is gone I have to cowboy up and just deal with it. I know the texts will get fewer and farther between as Grace and I fill our days with playdates, activities, and responsibilities. But until then, I'll cling to as much of Aaron as I can. (You don't mind, right hun?)

14 Weeks

2012-01-06T15:14:00.000-06:00

The story is a familiar one. I was twelve weeks pregnant with Grace when I really started to notice my "belly" sticking out. It looked so obvious to me. My skirt hugged tightly around my hips giving way to my stomach which required a little more room. "You can totally tell I'm pregnant now," I told Aaron "Don't you notice it?" I'm pretty positive his answer was, "Ummmmm, sure." Which meant he saw absolutely no difference at all.

In my mind, since everyone could tell I was pregnant now, I begged Aaron to get the camera to document the occasion. Like the loving husband that he is, despite his lack of seeing what the heck I was talking about, he snapped a few pictures, solidifying that moment in time.

There were plenty of times later in my pregnancy, and after my pregnancy, that I looked at that picture and thought, "What was I thinking? I can't tell a difference in the slightest." I vowed for subsequent pregnancies, not to take a picture unless someone could really tell that there was a bump. Meaning you wouldn't have to squint your eyes or turn your head just to make it out.

The other day, I felt like it was time. So I took a picture with my phone and sent it to Aaron. 14 weeks.

And then I laughed at myself, because you really can't tell in this picture either. Maybe one day I'll just wait until I'm 20 weeks along. Until then, here is the first documentation of the "bump," if you can call it that.

The Year in Recap

2012-01-05T13:32:00.000-06:00

2011 was quite the year for our Family

We trekked to San Antonio where my brother got engaged

And my sister got married

We all got sick a ridiculous amount of times

Aaron turned 27

Mema made many a vist

We experienced some Texas storms

We moved down the street (best move ever)

We trekked to Portland where my brother got married

We celebrated our 5th Anniversary

We trekked to Virginia to say a final goodbye to my Grandfather

I turned 25

We boated. A lot.

I did a 30 day photo challenge

We made our annual Virginia Beach beach trip

I cut Grace's hair accidentally making her look like Justin Beiber

Jillian and Lucas came to visit

I cut my hair, and since wished I hadn't

Grandee and Papa came for a visit

And Gracie turned 2!

We Halloweened ladybug style

And found out that B. Barns the Dos would be coming in July

We Thanksgiving'd in Texas

Reluctantly sent Stacey to Houston

And celebrated Christmas Barnard style in Utah.

Eventful doesn't even seem to cut it. We had a blast this past year and are really looking forward to 2012 (especially July).

Christmas Card Photos

2012-01-04T20:51:00.000-06:00

The months leading up to December I was thinking about our Christmas card. It involved a pencil skirt and big necklace for me, and perhaps a suit coat and scarf for Aaron. A lot of reds, blacks, and whites. Something very classy. I spent countless hours trying to figure out a way to make this idea in my head come to life in a very affordable fashion. Nothing was really coming together, but I held hope that I could make it happen. Then one day in November Aaron says to me, "Let's do a cheesy ugly sweater Christmas card this year." In an instant all of my classy Christmas card ideas were gone, I said, "That is an awesome idea. Let's do it."

I enlisted the help of my mother and her awesome thrift store finding abilities to help with our cause. One large package of sweaters later we were set. Camera. Tripod. Timer. Perfection.

In case we weren't able to get our card out to you, here are the three pictures that made the cut.

I honestly don't know where Aaron learned to make faces like that, but he has some serious skills.

Here are a few honorable mentions.

We only took about 10 pictures total and the whole process was hilarious from start to finish.

So Merry Christmas Y'all! From the Super Dee Duper Barnards!

The First Trimester with Baby #2

2012-01-03T17:33:00.002-06:00

I should have been more tipped off to the "you're probably pregnant" vibe when I started feeling nauseated. Food tasted funny in my mouth despite enjoying those same foods just a week prior. I talked myself out of it, however, because I was never sick or nauseated with Grace. Nausea wasn't part of my last pregnancy, why would it start now?

That was just the beginning of the completely wrong ideas I would be having about how this pregnancy would go.

Mind you with Grace I rarely felt pregnant, especially in the first trimester. Other than going to the doctor and seeing the baby on the ultrasound I didn't really have a lot of pregnant lady symptoms.

This pregnancy has been nothing like the last one. From day one I felt nauseated. It started in the morning and usually lasted all day. Saltines and DDP-CF (caffeine free) seemed to get me through. At the six week mark I started to spot. It scared me. I told myself "I knew this was too good to be true," but clung the the nausea as proof that things were still going strong. After a little more spotting the next day and a little more nausea, I was in the clear.

From that point on I learned that if I ate specific foods that I would feel better. They had to be salty and full of protein. Peanuts, eggs, string cheese, and more fast food than a person ever wants to admit they have eaten. I drove through Taco Bell twice in one day. I spent a week eating Wendy's homestyle chicken sandwiches for lunch or dinner. I craved greasy, salty fries and burgers. I would trek to Five Guys or In-N-Out to really treat myself. You know how on normal occasions after you eat fast food and you feel greasy and heavy and yucky afterwards? I would eat it and feel amazing. I hated myself for how good it made me feel. But it curbed the nausea for long stretches and I was in complete and total survival mode.

Sweets were the enemy. Pure and simple. As a sweets loving person this was really hard for me. I wanted sweets, but this baby did not. It was hard to back off my normal inclinations for things like sweets. I would go places and add them to my plate but as soon as I took the first bite I would be sick and the nausea would stay an unwelcome guest. I remember having a few bites of cheesecake at a Relief Society meeting and it was a huge mistake.

My system completely slowed down. My insides felt like they were in a constant battle. Do you blame them? Nothing but fast food and hormones, I'd back up too. I was (and sometimes still am) about 2 seconds away from banging on Jamie Lee Curtis' door and begging for an IV of pure Activia.

Hormones. I remember crying once or twice while pregnant with Grace for completely unjustified reasons. Once was after ruining waffles. I started crying and just couldn't stop. Now I have zero control over my emotions. I cried during the trailer of the Hunger Games. Not even the movie, but the trailer. While we were in Utah Aaron and I took Grace to a playplace at McDonald's to let her run around. While Aaron was getting us some ice cream Grace got completely knocked off her feet and leveled by a boy running around the structure. She started to cry, and so did I. The little boy kept trying to apologize and I was trying desperately to not let him or his mother across the room know that I was crying because Grace had gotten knocked over. I cried for a good 5 minutes. I felt so stupid. I cry during commercials or when people say nice things to me. Thank goodness I always wear water-proof mascara.

I can say most of these things in the past tense now. At 14 weeks along things are tapering off and I'm starting to feel more normal. I can survive the day without eating fast food, and I have welcomed sweet treats back into my life with open arms. I still prefer super salty foods, but I can get away with most things just fine. I feel like I'm starting to show, although Aaron is still yet to be convinced.

I have no inclinations one way or the other about what gender we are having. I'm a little trigger shy at placing a guess. I was dead convinced that Grace was a boy, and was totally floored when they said girl that it took me a good week to wrap my mind around things. This time I am not leaning one way or the other and would honestly be happy with either. This baby was such a surprise that it can come however it wants to and we'll be happy.

The number one question people are asking me is "Do you guy have any names you like?" With a calm and grounded confidence I can tell people that we have no names. Not even a small or short list. Aaron likes to play the "name game" after we know what we're having, and I like to play the name game two years before we even start trying. So we have played it a few times laying down names that we like on the table and we have learned pretty quickly that we don't like the same names. Naming Grace was really easy. From day 1 of our marriage Grace Katherine was our favorite girls name, it required no discussion. Now, neither of us is dead set on a name and the ones we both love the other doesn't like in the slightest. This goes for both girl names and boy names. It should be an interesting process naming this baby.

I can't believe 3 months have already gone by, but I'm looking forward to the second trimester and finding out what gender B. Barns the Dos is.

The Happiest of New Year's Eves

2012-01-02T21:03:00.000-06:00

We started off our New Year's Eve in the best possible way. Double piggy buns.

We got together with friends later in the evening for homemade chili, bite sized pieces of cornbread (just kidding Dave), and Mac and Cheese for the kiddos. Our hosts went all out in the decor department, and I was in awe of their skills.

At 8pm we did a Kids Countdown.

And Grace gave a New Year's kiss to her favorite man.

Then after scriptures and prayers the kids were tucked snugly into bed and then the adults became crazy party animals.

Now, your definition and my definition of "Crazy Party Animals" might differ. Let me read to you from my personal dictionary.

Crazy Party Animals: (noun) those who make lovely conversation, feast on apple cobbler and ice cream, roll their eyes at the MTV countdown, decide to watch the NYC countdown at 11pm Texas time because why delay the inevitable, chat until midnight, watch the NYC countdown again, then pack up their toddler and head home to fall asleep as soon as humanly possible.

That matches your definition, right?

I saved my New Year's Kiss for my favorite man as well.

2011 was a wonderfully interesting year but I am really looking forward to all that 2012 will bring. Also, please do not be deceived by the flowiness of my shirt. It makes me look a whole lot more pregnant than I am.

Thank you Pistorias family for a fabulous New Year's Eve celebration.

Things We Love About Christmas 2011

2011-12-31T15:42:00.001-06:00

Traveling to Utah (and making all our connecting flights)

Playing with Aunt Rachel in the snow.

Playing with the snow, until realizing the snow and bare hands aren't a good mix then crying and begging to have your hands in warm water.

Beautiful, gorgeous mountains.

Cafe Rio (and maybe eating there three times...)

Free kids quesadillas at Cafe Rio

Visiting Diana

Finally getting all of the girls together. Grace, Ella, Brooklyn, and Audrey.

Realizing that Grace finally grasps the concept of a funny face picture. I couldn't have been more proud in this moment.

Running to Chick Fil A with a car full of kids

Waving to the Chick Fil A cow and literally throwing French fries to the back of the van for the girls.

Learning to play Tetris on the GameBoy.

Magelby's French toast with butter syrup. Mmmmmmmm.

Drawing with Aunt Sarah.

Laughing hysterically while playing Balderdash. Favorite made-up definitions:

Scurfer: A southern term for "What are you scared for?" (written by Aaron)

Slumboes: A slumber party for young boys. (written by Joe)

Relaxing

Coloring

Doing the Nativity on Christmas Eve

Setting up all Nativity pieces in a chorus line rather than the usual spots.

Setting out a plate of cookies and milk for Santa, and carrots for the reindeer.

Being awesome at making gingerbread people.

Muumuu lady- Kara; Surfer dude- Rachel; Sumo Wrestler: Aaron

Getting out butts kicked by Grandee in a Christmas Eve game of Phase 10

CHRISTMAS MORNING!!

A brotherly fu-man-chu shave party with matching shirts.

Lunch with Great Grandma Shirley

Searching for her hidden Scooby Doo. Seriously, where are you?

A Grace and Grace reunion

Seeing all the airplanes.

A champion flying companion. (and stickers and iPhones making it possible)

We had an incredible time with Aaron's family in Utah this year celebrating Christmas. It was the perfect way to send 2011 out with a bang.

How We Found Out

2011-12-30T18:00:00.000-06:00

I am a fan of stories. Long stories. Stories with too many details that put you exactly in the shoes of the person telling the story. I love hearing them. I love telling them. Don't be surprised when I tell you the reader's digest version of your story really isn't cutting it for me.

So for those of you passionate about stories with too many details. I have a story for you. How we found out I was pregnant.

Like clockwork my period came. It should have. It always started light and after four days it would kick into high gear. I had the pattern memorized at this point. I had taken many a pregnancy test convincing myself that my "light period" was implantation bleeding. The tests were always negative and I wound up doing a lot of laundry. It happened more than I care to admit. A heartbreaking roller coaster that I loathed and yet could not get off the ride. This time things were different. I held no hope and moved forward with my life. Taking the necessary steps to prevent unneeded days spent in my laundry room. I was holding no hope. We had a fertility specialist appointment scheduled less than two weeks down the road. I thought about which tests would be done, constantly thinking how the doctors could probably care less about my timeline and the tests alone could take months. Oh well. I moved forward.

My Mom came in town that weekend. She was having surgery for a deviated septum and with my Dad at work she figured the best in home care would be in Texas. Stacey and I were willing to be her nurses for the ordeal. On Sunday Aaron and I drove to my sister's house for a family dinner. After good food, good conversation, and a football game, Aaron kissed me goodnight and headed home. I was spending the night at Stacey's to help get Carly to school and watch Taylor while Stacey took my Mom to the hospital. During the hustle and bustle of the nighttime routine I went to the bathroom where I made a shocking discovery. My period had stopped dead in its tracks. Three days in and suddenly nothing. I was confused and thought to myself, "There is no way. We didn't even try this month. No methods to improve our chances. Nothing. There is absolutely no way."

A few weeks back Stacey mentioned to me that she had a spare pregnancy test should I ever want to use it. I was convinced I was not pregnant and wanted instant confirmation that was the case before I rode the hope roller coaster all over again. I explained my situation and after a brief ransacking of a few bathroom drawers we couldn't find the test. Part of me was relieved. I didn't want to relive the disappointment that always followed test taking. I knew I wasn't pregnant. I didn't need a test telling me too. Normally a situation like that would drive me mentally insane, but I was calm and confident that I knew what was happening. My body did funny stuff all the time, why would this be different. I texted Aaron and asked for his advice, he wrote back, "I would wait a week or so before you take a test. Give your body some time, it always does weird stuff." I wrote back, "Good call. You're probably right."

The next morning proceeded as scheduled. I got Carly to school and the little ones fed and entertained.

I didn't feel very well, but I chalked it up to the fact that I don't sleep well in different places. In the afternoon Stacey brought my Mom home. Drugged, dry mouth, sore nose. My heart went out for her, she didn't look comfortable in the slightest.

The little ones flocked to her and offered the best comfort they could think of. Foot massages. I'm sure Grace really had no idea what she was doing.

We made sure she was comfortable and we sat on the couch talking. In our conversation it came up that my Mom probably needed a slurpee to help with her dry throat. At one point we were quiet and my sister whispered, "Did your period come back?" for fear that my whispering would lead to questions I wrote a response back on my phone. "No." Stacey whispered, "Do you want me to go get you a pregnancy test. " I wrote back, "No. I'm scared. I don't know if I want to take one." I don't know how much time went by before I stood up and said, "Mom I'm going to go grab you a slurpee, what flavor do you want?" It was my cover to buy a pregnancy test.

My heart pounded nervously. "Why am I doing this? I'm just going to feel stupid again." My mind was in a million places yet I was oddly calm. I felt a spiritual feeling, one I equated to feeling when I was about to get bad news, and my heart sank. Heavenly Father was trying to protect me before my heart broke again, I just knew it. But I kept driving. I quick stop in Walmart. Then a quick drive to RaceTrace for a slurpee and I was on my way home. After giving my Mom her much needed cold beverage I snuck upstairs to take the test. My heart pounded so hard I could barely see. I sat with my back to the sink texting a friend about a play date we were planning for our girls. I tried desperately for 3 minutes to pretend that everything was normal. And then my timer went off.

I stood up.

The constant mental battle of "What if its positive? and What if it's negative?" played a million times in those few seconds. How would I react? How would I handle it? What would I do? I had thought millions of times how it would feel once it was positive.

I turned around.

I was scared to look down but dying to see it all at the same time and I looked. There they were. Two pink lines intersecting. Lines I had never seen before. I knew right away it was positive. I had taken enough tests to know what negative meant and this was the first test that even came close to being positive. I was shocked. Oh my gosh. oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh. It's positive. I stared at that pink plus sign with my jaw touching the floor. There is no way. I laughed and tears welled up my eyes. I had to tell Aaron.

With Grace sleeping just down the hall I snuck into my niece's room. My hands shook as I dialed his number. I kept my voice down trying keep the news a secret from the other members in the house. Aaron, "Hello?" I could hear his co-workers in the background and I could tell that he was trying to keep his voice down as well. I said, "Hey babe, remember that advice you gave me about not taking another pregnancy test for a week or so?" "Yeah?" "Well I didn't follow that advice and I just took a test and it was positive!!"Aaron, "Are you serious? That is awesome." I could tell he was desperately trying to control his voice as to not lead his coworkers to believe that something exciting was going on when it totally was. Then he said "I've never been so glad that you didn't heed my advice."

We texted shortly thereafter where we could be more cavalier with our excitement. He texted "This is so exciting." Followed by about 27 exclamation marks. I couldn't stop myself from smiling. With my newly learned secret I made my way downstairs. While putting things away in the kitchen Stacey met my eyes and mouthed "So?" I couldn't help but smile and I motioned upstairs where I showed her the test. We did our best to keep our voices a whisper. There were screams and "Oh my goshs" and Stacey hugged and congratulated me. Apparently we failed at keeping our excited whispering to an unhearable level. My niece shouted from downstairs, "What are you guys whispering about? We can hear you whispering up there." I suddenly realized that my new secret wasn't going to stay a secret for long. I tucked the test away in my pocket and casually made my way downstairs. After busying myself for a few minutes I walked over to the couch where my Mom was sitting. I said, "If we could get you a gift, any gift at all, to make you feel better what would it be?" I tried to play it off like Stacey and I were going to surprise her with a get well soon gift of some sort. My mom paused and thought for a moment, then she looked at me and said, "For you to be pregnant." I started to cry as I pulled the test out of my pocket and handed it to her. We hugged and talked and estimated when my due date would be.

Later in the day I took two more tests, just to be extra sure.

I sent it to Aaron and said "Definitely pregnant."

Later that day we called and texted our immediate family members the wonderful and unexpected news.

And that is how our story began.

Back In Action

2011-12-29T23:28:00.002-06:00

I have been out of the loop for quite some time now. I have a good reason, of course. We have been out of town celebrating the Christmas Holiday with Aaron's family. It was a long a much needed trip. We landed in the great state of Texas this afternoon and unfortunately reality and responsibilities are steadily creeping back into our lives. My anxiety levels are rising a tad as I try to wrap my mind around the to do list that is swimming around in my head. Breathe in, breathe out.

First and foremost I want to take some time to say thank you for your incredibly sweet and heartfelt comments. They meant a lot to me. So, again, thank you so much. We are very excited and things have been interesting the second time around. I have lots of pregnancy related updates, so brace yourselves.

My head is swimming, probably due to a sugar high, calorie high, nap high, and overall festive awesomeness high. Updates about Christmas will trickle in steadily, tucked snugly between moments where Grace and I soak every last minute up with Aaron before we bid him adieu to the black hole of Busy Season.

Until then, here is a picture of Grace to hold you over.

Merry Christmas.

Mysterious Ways

2011-12-17T15:25:00.001-06:00

Shortly after Aaron and I had received a call from our doctor informing us about our fertility, I asked Aaron for a blessing. My head was all over the place. I felt good, I felt afraid, but mostly I felt like I finally looked down and the ground was strange and unfamiliar. I didn't know where I was. I wanted peace, I wanted comfort. But secretly I wanted a timeline. I wanted Heavenly Father to say to me, "Here is how short or long this will take." I felt like if I knew what my timeline was, then I could power through and handle the situation with more perspective. But I knew that wasn't how things worked. You never know your timeline, ever.

Aaron said some beautiful things. Urging me to focus my attention on the other responsibilities that I had and reminding me that I needed to be participating in those things. I gripped my seat and waited for my timeline. I wanted it, even though I knew it wasn't going to be given. Short? Long? Rough terrain? I felt like I was whisper-shouting those words despite never actually saying them. Aaron paused for a moment. Then he said, "the Lord works in mysterious ways." I let out my breath, not realizing at the time that I was holding it in. My shoulders slumped a little. He finished the beautiful blessing. I wiped my tears and hugged and thanked him.

The words "the Lord works in mysterious ways," swam through my head. They felt heavy and gave me no bearings as to where I would find the light at the end of the tunnel. I felt defeated in my timeline desires. I felt selfish. I looked at the road ahead and took the first unknown step forward.

I still felt lost and confused. My emotions ran all over the place. But I put my mind elsewhere, focusing on my other responsibilities. Moving forward.

What I didn't realize at the time, was the statement, "the Lord works in mysterious ways," was in fact a very specific answer, despite my feelings of it being extremely vague.

It was the statement that followed a series of "Oh. My Gosh" remarks. A series of about 25 of them repeated over and over and over.

It was the statement that would explain the positive pregnancy test that I held in my hand shortly after being told we had a fertility related issue.

Baby Barnard #2 Due July 1st, 2012

We are excited, humbled, thrilled, and extremely extremely grateful for this little baby. And we are living proof that the Lord does, in fact, work in mysterious ways.

Epic Fail

2011-12-14T15:13:00.002-06:00

On Sunday I started to get sick. Something nasty along the lines of tonsilitis. Fever, aches, chills, sore throat. I got medicine on Monday, but the medicine was making me sick in a completely different way. Something along the lines of the Southern hemisphere.....if you know what I mean. All in all I was a hot mess. Living off tylenol every 4-6 hours. Not showering. Desperately trying to make it to nap time or the end of the day.

By Tuesday Grace was desperate to get out of the house. Desperate. We were out of pretty much everything food wise. And I couldn't make anymore excuses. I took some tylenol. Threw on some make-up. (please take note that I still had not showered) and headed out the door once Grace woke up. She had taken a much later nap so we left around dinner time. I was hungry and needing to buy things to make dinner. It was drizzling outside but nothing too unbearable.

The shopping itself was quick and efficient. Almost all of my groceries had been scanned and bagged when I started rifling through my purse to find my wallet. No wallet. I rifled harder and started to panic. Oh my gosh I don't have my wallet. I knew exactly where it was. I had bought something for Aaron online and it was sitting on my bed. Shoot. I said to the lady, "I forgot my wallet but I have my check book, but I don't have my license to verify the check." She said "I'm so sorry, I need your license." I live just down the street so after a series of forehead slaps and "shoots" I said to her "Do you mind holding my groceries while I run home and grab my wallet?" she said "Sure."

Round two of rifling through my bag to find my keys. I couldn't find them. It isn't surprising. My bag is full of random stuff making my keys impossible to see. So I headed out to my car assuming I would find them once I stopped. In the drizzling rain, I searched, and pulled things out, and searched again. No keys. Not in any pockets. Not anywhere. Panic set in. Where on Earth are my keys? Did someone steal them? I went to call Aaron. But I couldn't find my phone. NO PHONE. I was tired, and sick, and probably should not have been allowed to leave the house considering the mental state I was ine that caused me to leave my wallet and phone at home. So I started to cry. Big sobs that require gasping breaths in. Grace was happy playing in the rain and then she stopped to ask "What happened Mama? Why crying?" People were walking by as I was crying crouched over my bag. No keys, no phone, no wallet, no groceries. I prayed, "Heavenly Father, I have no idea what to do. Please help."

Suddenly I heard a woman's voice behind me. "Is everything okay?" I turned and stood up and wiped my tears away while I sniffled, "Yeah, I just can't find my keys. I obviously had them before since I got here and my car is locked. But I need them to get home so I can get my wallet which I forgot in order to by the groceries I already collected. She said, "Oh I am so sorry. Well I'll stay with you until you get everything sorted out." She was so nice. I would not have been as nice as she was to me, but I was so grateful for her. She let me use her phone so I could call Aaron who has my spare key. He was on his way, so I thanked my modern day Good Samaritan and headed back into the store.

I retraced every single step that I made. I walked in, checked the carts, headed to the bananas. Not there. I veered toward the onions. Sitting in the pile of onions were my keys. I have no idea how they fell out of my pocket into the onions but there they were. There should have been a beam of light and angels singing praises, because that is what it felt like. Now I needed to call Aaron and tell him to turn around and head back to work. I awkwardly scanned people to try to get a good idea of who wouldn't be totally weirded out by me asking them to use their phone. Lost of people had their phones out but I was too chicken to ask. I waited in line at customer service thinking they might let me use there phone when I got the courage to ask a girl standing in line to use hers. Aaron laughed when I told him where I found them. I thanked the girl and high tailed it out the door and back to my apartment.

Grace had lots of fun as we ran up and down the stairs. I got my phone, my wallet, and made sure I had my keys when I headed back. I made my way to register 16 and there was the sweet lady, still holding my groceries despite the fact that it took my twice as long as I said it would take. She smiled and said, "You're back!" I panted a "yes" in response. I thanked her immensely for her kindness and I finally headed home for good.

I should have just ordered pizza.

But for all the fails that built up due to my lack of taking the necessary things with me, I will never cease to be amazed by the kindness of strangers.

Mobile

2011-12-10T14:45:00.001-06:00

As per usual with the holiday season things are busy. Hustling and bustling and going here and there. Aaron and I have attended 3 different Christmas related parties through his work. We have dressed up 3 different times, and never once did we take a picture during any one of those times. Grace has been to enough babysitters that I'm pretty sure she doesn't know where home is anymore. Although, I'm sure she would prefer to hang with her friends every single night.

On one babysitting occasion I dropped Grace off at my friends house. Grace had stuck a sticker on my foot, I had completely forgotten. I got Grace settled, headed out to a Christmas lunch and ornament exchange. I spoke with many different people. We even laughed about those things that happen to you where you sometime silly happens and you don't notice until you get home. My favorite story being one where someone wore two different shoes to the gym and didn't notice until she was a mile into her run. I got back to pick Grace up and suddenly noticed the sticker Grace had placed on my foot 4 hours earlier. I asked my friend, "Did you notice this Benny the Bull sticker." she said, "Yeah, I totally noticed."

The weather is changing around here. It went from being summer to being winter in about 24 hours. The trees are suddenly and rapidly catching up with the quick change. I'm loving seeing all the fall leaves.

Although I wish the temperatures followed suit with Fall temperatures and didn't hover around 28 degrees. So much for the low being 30 degrees.

But Grace is digging her hats these days and we don't mind wearing our winter gear.

Speaking of Grace, I was scrolling through my contacts when I came to a very long list of numbers at the bottom. It took me a few minutes of serious confusion to wrap my mind around the fact that the long list of contacts was added by my 2 year old.

What would a blog post be without a little mention of what Aaron is up to. This morning we got up and got ready. Aaron decided a change was needed and he shaved his beard and left a little 'stache. His hair is so light you can barely even see it, but the pedo 'stache was there and we were dying laughing all morning. We had to head to the church for tithing settlement and we saw a large number of people there. I kept telling him "I can't take you seriously with that thing." He was hoping to make it to Christmas, but the 'stache was a little too creepy and gave off "Hide yo kids, hide yo wife," vibes. So a few hours later he shaved it off. Aaron pulling a creeper face, with his pedo 'stache.

Happy pedo 'stache holidays everyone!

My Girl

2011-12-01T21:43:00.001-06:00

I love her. I really can't say it enough.

Even though when it comes to picture taking she is a pretty unwilling subject

In this picture I'm asking her to smile and she is say "Nooooo."

Did you notice the scrapes on her upper lip? Poor kiddo face planted when she was running to hug Stacey when we went to see them last week.

She has a serious obsession with all things Mr. Potato Head, or as she says it My Tato Head.

She asks to play with them every day, usually first thing in the morning. "Good morning Grace!" "Morning Mama! I play with my tato head?" She is getting pretty creative. Check out safari piggie on the right.

She usually enlists Aaron and I to join in on the fun. And there is no explanation for my hair.

She isn't afraid of the giant creepy fish at Bass Pro Shop. Even when they float and stare in the creepiest way possible.

She loves her Dad like crazy and whenever he is home, he's always number one in her eyes. Monday's are a hard adjustment.

She is the best lunch date companion. Constantly chatting and laughing and thoroughly enjoying sitting in her very own seat.

She is still a two year old that throws tantrums, disagrees with me, asks "What are you doing Mama?" about 400,000 times, and wants to do things her way. If you have some time remind me to tell you a story involving books and Grace getting back at me.

But I love her. She makes me laugh, keeps me on my toes, and knows every way in the book to melt my heart. Like she was given an instruction manual on how to love life and be happy.

I just love her.

Whirlwind

2011-11-28T15:53:00.001-06:00

It's beginning to look a whole lot like Christmas. I have been chomping at the bit for the Christmas celebrations to finally begin and finally the day arrived. We took advantage of every moment we had with Aaron home and filled our weekend to capacity. In normal holiday fashion we kicked things off with Grace opening and modeling her Christmas jammies from Mema and Poppy. A pair that matches all of her cousins.

Friday morning, while others rested and recovered from their black friday extravagnazas, we went out to breakfast. Can you guess where?

When it comes to visiting Santa, Bass Pro is the way to go in my opinion. We stood in a short line. I kept my fingers crossed that Grace wouldn't freak out like last year. We pointed Santa out, overly mentioned that he was "So nice!" but as we walked down to see him Grace exclaimed, "I'm scared of Santa." So Aaron held her and she was just fine with that. This Santa was awesome. Just look at his face. We ran into Santa over by the bathrooms. As we crossed paths Grace said "Hi, how are you?" Santa: "I'm good, and you?" Grace: "Good." Perhaps next year we should just cruise by Santa and exchange pleasantries and have the camera guy snap a picture, because that is more Grace's style.

Reindeer carousel. Have I mentioned that the above picture and carousel rides are free. Seriously, I love Bass Pro Shop. And they aren't even paying me to say these things.

We spent hours on Saturday morning going through and reorganizing our files. This has nothing to do with the holidays but it felt awesome to get rid of all that stuff. We shredded bags and bags worth of paper and created a to do list a mile long to check and double check and get up to date. I must be an adult because I found all of that really exciting and felt awesome afterwards.

We found out over the holiday weekend that my brother-in-law Cade was offered and accepted an incredible job offer at a dental practice in Houston. My heart broke a little but we are so excited for them and this new adventure. They flew back into town and movers came on Saturday to pack up their things. We drove up to see them before they Left

Grace asked about Stacey every single day that she was in Arizona. It's going to be an interesting adjustment for her when we can't seem them a few days a week.

We already miss them terribly. Only one day in and I have already thought multiple times how much I wished I could go to her house and hang with her and the kiddos.

We closed out our weekend with more Christmas related activities. Like watching The Grinch and Elf, making wassail, and filling our apartment with the colors red, white, and green.

The Christmas music is jammin' at our house and our countdown chain is getting shorter and shorter. Grace and I shed a tear as Aaron went back to work, but we know we'll get him back when the holiday gets closer.

26 Days, 7 hours, 43 minutes, and 10 seconds.

But who is counting? Right?

A Day of Thanks and Food

2011-11-24T16:01:00.001-06:00

Last night Aaron and I hid the 12 Turkey's for the Turkey Hunt. Each spot obvious enough for Grace to see it, but tricky enough to keep it exciting. So first thing in the morning, Grace went a huntin' for some Turkeys. She had a blast locating each one. We had to help her and give her obvious clues, "What about in the Bathroom, Gracie?" She asked to keep looking for them long after she had already found them. And yes, Aaron and I laminated the Turkeys. It seemed like a must with a toddler. Don't let the bored-out-of-her-mind look on Grace's face fool you, I swear she enjoyed it.

While the parade played in the background we made a breakfast of pumpkin chocolate chip pancakes, hash browns, and mushroom monterey jack eggs. Aaron did all the dishes. Husband of the year.

We got our goods together and headed out to our Group Thanksgiving. A lovely gathering of families who were Texas transplants and not heading out of town to celebrate. The kids table was bumpin'.

We kept our Barnard tradition alive and made sure to get DDPs on tap .

The food spread was, for lack of a better phrase, crazy legit. Every base was covered. It was an amazing sight to see.

Our celebration was so crazy awesome that the missionaries were there. Holler.

We sported our Turkey trot shirts, and for the second month in a row we got a family picture. High fives all around.

The rest of our celebration involves football, skyping with our families, scarfing down leftovers, more football, and watching Christmas Vacation. Sounds like a pretty awesome holiday to me.

Did I mention that Aaron did all the dishes including clearing out the dishwasher multiple times. Yeah, he knows how to make this woman happy.

Happy Thanksgiving.

In Preparation

2011-11-23T13:41:00.001-06:00

I love the days leading up to a holiday. They feel different in a special, kind of magical, way. Everyone is busy, hustling here and there. More cars are on the road. Aisles are packed from Target, to Walmart, to Costco, and everything in between. Although everyone is in different stages, phases, and modes of celebration it fun to think that we are all unified in our efforts to celebrate Thanksgiving. I love that.

We have been busy with our Thanksgiving preparation as well. My Mom and sister sent our "Turkey Trot" Shirts despite our little family not being able to participate. We will cheer the other members of my family from afar as they run their little hearts out in Arizona on Thanksgiving morning.

Couldn't resist those cheeks. They were begging to be kissed.

On Monday I ran from store to store collecting the necessary items that I need to bring for our group Thanksgiving. The weather was dreary and hazy all day. While shopping at Costco it turned into a torrential downpour. I meandered a cart, umbrella, small child, and food items through the parking lots during the storm. We were quite the sight. I'm pretty sure my shoes were never intended to be in the rain since about two step outside I could feel the water squishing between my toes.

With the hustle and bustle there are people leaving town, and those coming into town. Because the world is so small sometimes, I was able to catch up with family friends that I haven't seen in years. All the while chatting with the lovely hostess and having Grace run around like a mad woman and eat all snacks in sight. I had an absolute blast (Thank you Markham Family!).

Yesterday I did six loads of laundry and today I plan on cleaning, because by the time Thursday rolls around I want nothing occupying my mind so I can soak in the festiveness and every single minute that Aaron has off from work.

Between bouts of cleaning and corralling I am crafting up a storm. Tomorrow we will have a Turkey hunt and a rousing game of Pin the Feather on the Turkey, to really work up our appetites.

Happy Thanksgiving Eve.

Thanksgiving is on the Horizon

2011-11-20T22:21:00.001-06:00

So apparently Thanksgiving is on Thursday. When did this happen? Was I too busy frolicking in Target to noticed the days of November ticking steadily by? I can't tell you how many conversations I had with people that involved the line "Thanksgiving is next week, can you believe it?!" One too many, I'd say. But it is here and this is the eve of Thanksgiving week. I pulled out my Thanksgiving decoration. There is no "s" on the end of that word because I only have one Thanksgiving related decoration. But I threw together the 5 pumpkins from Halloween (yes, I still have them), and a fall craft that Grace and I made and called it a day. Maybe one day I'll splurge on more Thanksgiving decor.

This may or may not be a Christmas Countdown Chain, but the colors of November and Thanksgiving are honored, so I felt like it applied to the decor.

And the shining star. Happy Pilgrim folk ready for the feast of their lives. Thank you to my Mother and D.I. for this incredible find.

For all of my lack of celebration this year, I really do love this holiday. The parade, the football games, the food, conversation, friendship, and family (mine are all in Arizona this year), it's all wonderful. I love waking up and filling my kitchen with good smells and having Aaron and Grace all to myself for an entire day. It's fun to think about and discuss all the things that you're truly grateful for, the things that really matter. And anything that involves pumpkin pie with whipped cream receives a gold star in my book.

I can't wait for Thursday.

Memory Box

2011-11-16T15:30:00.001-06:00

When my sister moved here last December my Mom snuck two boxes full of my ~~crap~~ stuff onto her moving truck. Since then they have sat in my sisters garage untouched. She has lived here almost a year and I figured it was high time I dug through them to figure out which items were for "keeps."

There were lots of things in there. Handouts from girls camp, a box full of notes from friends in high school (thank you Meredith and Julia for constantly keeping me entertained), journals, pictures, ribbons from old swim meets. Pretty much everything that you would have from your growing up years. I quickly sifted through items, my 8 year old niece laying claim to the "cool" stuff that I no longer wanted or needed. Everything else was divided into two piles: trash and keeps.

I always find it amazing the things that I could care less about and the things I can hardly stand to part with. After about an hour and a half, two boxes were slimmed down into one bag. And in that bag there were some awesome things.

A picture of my Mom and her older brothers.

My best friend when I was little, Megan, and I on a camping trip. Do you see my completely untamed coiffure? Can you now understand why I don't go camping? Although the crazy colored stretchy pants I'm rocking are pretty rad.

My official high school graduation picture. Which was almost 8 years ago, wow.

I was thrilled to see that Aaron's Senior picture survived. He gave this to me 10 years ago. Ah, the good old days of top highlights.

In mine and Aaron's "story" I always mention that Aaron "might have written me" while he was in the Mission Training Center. I now have my hands on the actual letter. Proof that he did in fact write me then.

There was a large pile of journals that I had kept way back in the day. I heavily debated whether or not I would keep them. When I was in 6th and 7th grade I was meticulous about keeping a journal. I wrote down every thought I had. I kept journals for the years following but they were spotty. But the years you want to forget. The years that you were awkward and unattractive, and desperate for attention. Those years I kept in full details. The contents of those journals were beyond embarrassing. I sent pictures to my sister after I came home and we laughed about the absolutely ridiculous things that I said. When Aaron came home I was in tears from laughing so hard. Mind you these stupid things were written in a journal with cats all over it. I had a list of things that I was Thankful for, Heavenly Father being number one, Grape soda pulling its weight as #4 and the over 80 list rounding out with a solid Oxy Pads (do you remember those.) I decided to keep those blasted things despite my embarrassment, because maybe one day I can use them to relate to Grace when she is going through this awful awful phase. Grace, "Mom, you just don't understand me!" Me: "I don't understand that you're obsessed with boys, desperately want their time and attention, and claim to be "in love" with a new one each month? I totally understand that. I have it written right here in my cat journal next to my list of thankfuls. Grace: What are oxy pads?

It was fun to go through items from my past and remember what life was like before responsibilities, marriage, and kids. But when it was all over I was grateful that I got to crawl into bed with my husband after we checked on our little sleeping Grace. Grateful that I had those memories but also grateful that they are over and I can move onto bigger and better memories, keeping a journal of things that I hope I won't be embarrassed about. I'm grateful for what I went through then, so that I can have everything that I do now.

And finally for your enjoyment: #30 on my Thankful List- Carmen Sandiego

Cold Gratitude

2011-11-11T14:44:00.001-06:00

Since Monday I have been sick, today, still sick. Typical cold symptoms, cough, congestion, runny nose, lost voice, etc. These past few sick filled days have been rough but also very very good. In keeping with the theme of this month I'll give thanks for the good in the past few days.

I'm grateful for jammies being so comfortable and for a girl who loves to snuggle with her sick Momma.

I'm grateful for a sister who lives close that will take care of me. For warm meals I get to eat that I didn't have to make. For cousins who love, laugh, and entertain Grace while I nap on the couch.

For beautiful Texas skies and the incredible sunsets it offers.

For sunglasses that my child loves that fit her perfectly (despite being from Build a Bear and intended for a stuffed animal.)

For excuses to take a shower and get out of the house, even if it was just a Cub Scout meeting.

For McDonald's playplaces and ice cream cones.

Even on my worst of days I always had someone or something helping me feel better. It was those little things that made a miserable week fly by.

Also a shout out to my beautiful friend Grace who is getting married today! 11/11/11. We love you!

Sandpaper Throat and Embarassment

2011-11-07T14:51:00.001-06:00

I woke up early this morning. Early, in the life of me, is sometime before 8:30am (blame Grace and her magnificent sleeping-in habits). It was 7am. 6:57am to get unnecessarily specific. My throat had been sandpapered by evil cold giving elves and sleep was no longer an option. I heard Aaron outside and started talking when the combination of a witch being tortured and a chain smoker's voice parted from my lips. It was rough. Aaron got me some medicine and water, and took my temperature. He's the best. He then left for work and I vowed that today I was going to do nothing.

It worked nicely that it was quite dreary outside.

My covers begged to be snuggled in. And I was more than happy to answer their call.

Shortly we were joined by Miss Grace. Where more fun was had.

And when her defenses were low I went straight for the belly tickle. Sister friend didn't even see it coming.

We took breaks in our lazy morning to eat and to make turkey and Thanksgiving crafts (because by golly I'm going to acknowledge this holiday!). The remains of our hand turkeys were printed on our fingers.

Despite a good handwashing the marks stood strong.

Upon closer inspection Grace felt like she had enough know how to tackle the situation.

Yep, this ought to do it.

After lunch and an episode or two if Dora, I sung and put Sister down for a nap. I sat on the couch. My brain felt fuzzy and swirly from the cold and I was tired. Then I heard a pound on the door. Thanks to extremely thin doors I could hear pounding on my neighbors doors as well. I heard the maintenance staff call to my neighbor "Inspection!"

I had an internal panic attack. I had received the flier days ago, but definitely didn't pay attention to it. I was floating dreamily in my lazy cold filled morning and the knock at the door ripped me right back into reality. I walked down the hall and there was a bra in the middle of the hallway, A BRA! I kicked it to the side and opened the door. Whispering ever so gently that my baby was asleep. The guy had to come in and walk through my entire apartment. When I turned around I saw what a mess it was. There were boxes of snacks and cereal and raisins opened all over the place. I did some kung fu moves that might have involved a stealth roll on the ground to retrieve the aforementioned bra and hid it in the laundry room. While he asked me a few questions I non-chalantly picked up and threw trash away, gathered dishes into the sink, and attempted to be calm cool and collected (I was not). He had to inspect my bathroom, "Let me check and make sure nothing is out..." The coast was clear but he would have to walk by my robe, a pile of jammies on the floor, and my completely unmade bed. As he walked out I noticed a pair of Grace's undies on the floor and my retainer on the counter top. I honestly stopped feeling embarrassed and started really feeling bad that this poor man had to witness these things in my apartment. It was over in record time and although my apartment passed inspection, I think my homemaker card is under serious reconsideration.

Next time I'll pick up items of clothing and put away retainers before opening the door. Don't be surprised if I leave you standing outside for 5 minutes before I let you in.

Now back to dreary fuzzy cold-sickness land.

Resist the Urge

2011-11-03T13:39:00.001-05:00

Please don't take this title to mean "resist the urge to eat Halloween Candy," because on that front resistance is futile and I have already made quick work of Grace's candy. She's so lucky to have me.

Lately, I've been resisting the urge to jump on the Christmas Festiveness bandwagon. Usually this resistance is rock solid. I was once a person that stood on her soap box and boycotted Christmas until the day after Thanksgiving. No music, no decor, not even a plan for the Christmas card. I felt like Thanksgiving deserved it's time in the spotlight and Christmas didn't need to steal that away. It's quite odd the things that I care about sometimes.

But this year, oh boy, this year is a different story. I got my Christmas present early from my parents this year. A gorgeous white iPhone. And it began, the slippery descent into Christmas spirit. Aaron told me he was going to surprise me with a new app for my phone. I literally squealed like a small child when I saw that it was a Christmas Countdown App. What was happening to me? I check the countdown constantly. It doesn't help that I set it up to play Mariah Carey's "All I Want for Christmas Is You," which is my all time favorite Christmas song. Sometimes I just click on it to hear the song.

If that wasn't enough, Target started setting out their Christmas merchandise. I found myself swooning and taking pictures before I even realized what was happening.

I headed in there this morning to get Grace a hat and gloves and before we even made it to the children's clothing section we spent a good 30 minutes slowly walking up and down the Christmas aisles. I would reach my hand out to touch or look at a price tag, ever so gingerly, and be yelled at by Grace "Mom, no touch it." At least she remembers what I tell her, right? I was moments away from frolicking in slow motion down those aisles. Twirling, laughing, watching fake snow fall as Grace and I had a snowball fight. It's bad, we're not even close to Thanksgiving.

Do I dare mention the fact that I love that Walmart is playing Christmas music? I couldn't stop smiling when I was grocery shopping the other day.

I am slipping, and fading, and desperately trying to resist the Christmas urge. But I think I'm failing.

Sick of Halloween Yet?

2011-10-31T23:43:00.002-05:00

Aaron, Grace, and I might have OD'ed a little on the October and Halloween spirit. We have eaten almost everything pumpkin flavored on the planet: pumpkin pancakes, pumpkin waffles, pumpkin bread, pumpkin spice chocolate chip cookies, and we made a valiant attempt to eat pumpkin pie. Over the course of this month I have somehow accumulated 5 pumpkins. Yes, five of them. I really am not sure how they got here. Grace and I went to two different pumpkin patches, and Grace went trick (or trunk) or treating three different times. She has a target bag full of candy. In my head I have about 5 different Halloween related posts written (do you ever write blog posts in your head?) but deep down inside I know I have over done the Halloween thing and I just want to move on. So, without further ado, the last and final Halloween blog post.

This was the first real time that Grace has gone trick or treating, although this would be her third year celebrating the holiday. This year, however, she could walk and talk on her own and we felt like she would be up for the challenge. We possied up and went with a group of friends.

The Ladybug, Jessie and Woody from Toy Story, and two Tinkerbell fairies.

I was extremely excited that Aaron got off work in time to come with us. We were quite the sight going door to door, but having the adults there made for awesome conversation and extra hands to corral. Perfection.

I gave Grace the room to go up to the door and say trick-or-treat without me prodding or whispering into her ear. At least this was my original thought. She walks up to the very first house. Doorbell rings. Door gets opened. Grace is the first one out of the gate (can you see her?). I hear her mention something about candy, digs her hand in the bowl before it is actually offered, and then proceeds to walk inside this persons house. I ditch my camera and run inside after her as I am apologizing over and over to this woman while my 2 year old is breaking and entering. Grace gets super annoyed that I'm pulling her out of this house, but I finally get her out. Next door, I'm standing right next to her. So much for not helicopter parenting.

I think she eventually got the hang of it, and enjoyed walking up and saying Trick or Treat, knowing that candy would be involved. She now asks to eat candy about 47 times a day, thank you for that Halloween. After a few meltdowns, one last door, and one lollipop, we headed home and kissed our little ladybug goodnight.

Halloween 2011, you were quite wonderful. Thanks for a great year.

But now, you are over, and its time to move on.

Happy Halloween!

I'll Never Live It Down

2011-10-30T22:02:00.000-05:00

There are pictures below, but, because this blog is authored by me, there is a long story that comes beforehand. This story is about cobbler.

Our church was putting together a Fall Festival. Food, fun, and trunk-or-treating. There were sign ups going around each Sunday asking for volunteers to make chili or apple cobbler for the fall festival. I never actually saw theses sign ups. But Aaron did. About a week ago Aaron casually mentioned that he had signed us up to make apple cobbler. Due to his extremely busy schedule, when he signs "us" up he normally just signs "me" up for things. This wasn't the first time he had done this. He has good intentions at heart, but I was slightly annoyed. Fast forward to Friday where he reminds me about making the cobbler and that we need to buy the proper ingredients. I am a little more annoyed. I had forgotten. Please don't get me wrong, I am open to the notion of serving others but I'd like to give my consent first.

Saturday morning I buy the ingredients we needed, which was literally a bag of apples. When cobbler making time rolled around I wash my hands and before I start, I walk out of the kitchen and say, "Aaron, I really don't like when you sign me up to do things without my consent. Next time talk to me before you sign me up for something." His response, "Well I knew they needed cobbler and really didn't think it would be a big deal." Me, "It's not a big deal, but in the future, let me know beforehand."

In my lifetime I have only made cobbler once before, and I no longer have that recipe. So, I typed "easy apple cobbler" into google. If I was going to do this, I was going to take the easiest route possible. How is that for grabbing life by the horns, eh? I began the tedious task of peeling the apples. Easy recipe in hand. In the middle of this process it was brought to my attention that the cobbler wasn't merely going to be a dessert, it would be a contestant in the cobbler competition. Oh great. There would be blue ribbon, world class cobblers there and then my half hearted, mediocre cobbler sitting untouched in a corner. I put a little more effort into it, hoping it wouldn't fall completely short. I popped it in the oven, set the timer, and got in the shower. Once I was out I checked the clock and realized that I put the cobbler in too early and it would probably be cold by the time the Fall Festival rolled around. I could feel the epic failure seeping in, but thought to myself, "At least I did it."

We got Grace dressed up, and we headed to the church. Our cobbler was placed on the table and given the number 5 for the competition. As Aaron and I did our best to attempt to corral Grace, and after we ate our chili, I headed out to grab dessert. There was pumpkin pie that was literally being attacked on all fronts by hungry pie-loving church goers, I was under strict orders to get a piece of that pumpkin pie. By the time I blinked, it was gone. I scooped up some of our apple cobbler, and some berry cobbler and headed back to our table. I told Aaron the pie was gone and gave him strict orders to eat our cobbler and let me know how it tasted. I don't actually like cobbler and really didn't want to eat it. Grace was off to play games, with me in tow, before his verdict on the cobbler was in.

The night progressed and as the donut-eating competition was being set-up (our fall festival is crazy legit), the winners of the costume, chili, and cobbler contests were announced. Runners up were given wonderful rounds of applause, the costume winners walked a little cat-walk, and different kinds of chili winners were pointed out. Winners received a gift card to a frozen yogurt joint that is literally across the street from our apartment. Then there was cobbler. Best berry.....Best peach...And now apple. "There weren't names associated with the cobblers so we'll announce the number. Cobbler #5 is our winner!" I about fell over. My cobbler, my easy, half hearted, cold when arrived, cobbler? The one I didn't want to make but felt cornered into doing so? I accepted the gift certificate and Aaron turns to the announcer and says, "You know whats funny? She didn't even want to make it!"And it was in that moment that I realized, I will never live this down.

I am more than aware that the clout that comes from winning a small ward cobbler contest is nothing to write home about, but I learned a seriously valuable lesson. I could have had fun with it. I could have enjoyed the process. But instead I was grumpy and fought it and was angry and annoyed. After winning with a cobbler, which I still have yet to taste, I wish that I would have enjoyed the process a little more. And y'all better watch out, cobbler #5 is coming to play next year. Bring it.

We wrapped up our night with a little trunk-or-treat. This being Grace's second one of the year. A lot more people joined us for the end of the night trunk or treat.

With her Ladybug costume in place, Grace was up for the challenge.

Since she is a veteran at this going trunk to trunk thing, she knew what she was getting: candy. We had her repeat "Trick or treat!" as she walked up to the cars, and with prodding she slipped a few "Thank-yous" in there. But after I while she would just walk up and say "I want some candy," and dig her hand into the bowl. At least we tried.

And finally we got a current family picture. One day Grace will keep her eyes open, but last night wasn't that day.

And yes, the signature red jacket is back. You know you love it.

Halpy Halloween

2011-10-28T14:52:00.028-05:00

It's not a typo. The title I mean.

The trunk that sat across from ours had an adorable Halloween sign. It wasn't until later that my Mom pointed out the fact that "Happy" was actually spelled "Halpy." I just hope they didn't pay too much money for that sign.

We got the kiddos ready

And took our Ladybug

Corpse Bride

and the ever evil Darth Vader, trunk-or-treating.

While my fellow candy-hander-outers and I manned our trunk,

Carly stepped up to the plate and took the littler ones car to car

We love Carly, she is the best.

And at the end of the night, Aaron and I reaped the sugary rewards, since Grace has yet to really figure out the candy thing. It's tough being a parent sometimes :).

Halpy Halloween everyone!

Pumpkin Patch Adams

2011-10-26T18:13:00.000-05:00

Is anyone else having serious issues with blogger? As in, it takes you 45 minutes to upload pictures. No? Is it just my internet? Either way, it has taken me days just to get the pictures uploaded to this blog post. It was frustrating. Let's move on, shall we?

Grace and I headed up north with my Mom, Sister, and her kids to another pumpkin patch. It was in the middle of farm country, on a real farm.

And the pumpkins actually grew out of the ground. Pretty rad in my opinion.

The first stop was the petting zoo.

It would not be a Texas petting zoo without a crazy legit longhorn. One of many. Taylor was a whole lot braver than I was.

Grace was in animal heaven, as per usual. I don't think she stopped screaming for the first 25 minutes that we were there.

Next we saddled up for a hay ride

Finally we made a mad dash to find the perfect pumpkin.

Working hard or hardly working, eh Grace?

After a quick Goat-to Grace pep talk,

We took our dusty feet and headed home.

Yes, bail of hay, we will be back.

So We'll Fight

2011-10-19T21:49:00.000-05:00

I am not one to hold information in. Not my style. When I keep things to myself I get overwhelmed by them, I think about them constantly, and struggle with not being able to reach out. I find talking about things extremely theraputic. So here goes nothing. The past two years.

I was one of those women who enjoyed being pregnant. I loved everything about it. Sure it wasn't rainbows and unicorns at all times but I wasn't sick, and felt almost completely normal. I knew plenty of women who struggled all throughout their pregnancies to even keep food in their bellies, and I knew just how lucky I was and told myself to never take it for granted. I wondered if Heavenly Father gave me an easy pregnancy to encourage me to have a lot of kids in the future, because for me, the thought of pregnancy was a positive thing. I was more than happy to take on that challenge. Perhaps my thinking was naive and ignorant, but those were the thoughts I had at the time.

Grace was about 4 months old when I started to get the feeling like we should have another one. I kept the thought to myself for awhile. I casually posed it to Aaron one night and he looked at me like I had an eye in the middle of my forehead. So I pushed it off. Then I started wanting it. I wanted another baby. Was I ready? No. Could I handle two kids close in age? Heavens no. But I wanted another one. I didn't acknowledge that this was my sincere desire until Grace was about 9 months old. I waited a month and told Aaron when Grace was 10 months that I wanted baby number 2. We had a serious conversation about it. Our expectations, our desires, etc. Aaron said he wasn't quite ready, so we set our sights on trying in December of 2010.

In December I got my IUD removed. I had heard stories from friends about how they got pregnant 3 days after their IUD was removed. My sister, 8 years my senior, got pregnant about 2 months after hers was removed. After mine was removed my doctor looked at me and said, "You are now fertile my friend." So this was it, no adjustment period off of birth control. I was more than ready for this. My sister was getting married in January and I thought, "I might be pregnant at her wedding!"

No dice. My brother was getting married in April and I told myself, I'll definitely be pregnant by his wedding. I wasn't. Then I set my sights on our family beach trip, there is no way I won't be pregnant. My period came during that trip. In that time I took countless home pregnancy tests, because every month I convinced myself that I was, and they all came up negative. I wanted it so bad that it hurt. I waited what felt like forever just to try again, and struggling to get pregnant wasn't part of the plan.

After 6 months Aaron and I started trying more aggressively, taking more calculated action. I read tips on how to increase your chances. Everything I read that decreases your fertility weren't issues for us. Through it all my heart was on a roller coaster. My hopes would slowly build and click higher and higher, but the ascent was long and I just had to wait for it. And then my period would come and I would crash down the other side faster than the speed of light. It would take me days to pick up the pieces of my heart. I didn't know why it was happening, we already had a baby, why was it so difficult this time?

Last month I went to the doctor. I had 10 period cycles in 9 months, and through some temperature tracking I thought I noticed a serious discrepancy in my cycle. As I presented my doctor with all of the necessary information, he concluded that the issue I came in for, wasn't actually an issue at all. But, since it had been close to a year that he would send both Aaron and I to get further testing done.

After some awkward and semi-invasive procedures, we had our answer. We had a fertility issue.

We did our research and were referred to a specialist. We decided to take a month off of trying, just to let things sink in and calm down.

We learned that our chances are less than normal. But there is a definite possibility that we could get pregnant, we would just have to put ourselves in the best circumstances and keep our fingers tightly crossed. Things could be done to improve our chances, but there were no guarantees that the process would fix the problem. During this month off I didn't allow myself to think about anything baby or pregnancy related. I got a few comments and elbow nudges, "Grace is great with my baby, I think she's trying to tell you something." (wink wink, nudge nudge). And it rolled right off my back, and I smiled because it felt good not to have it sting, because I knew she had no idea what was going on. I didn't think about it until around the time my period was due, then I let all of it seep in. The hope, the curiosity, the "people totally get pregnant even when their chances are slim when they aren't trying for it." And right on time, my period arrived. It was the first time in 11 cycles and 10 months that I didn't cry. I was expecting it, in fact, willing it to come. I thought to myself, "Wow, I must be growing up."

So, today Aaron and I stand on the starting line for a race in which we don't know the length. We don't know if we're property equipped for the terrain, we don't know how to pace ourselves, we don't know if there will even be a finish line. But we're standing here ready to fight, ready to run until our bodies give out, ready to endure to the bitter end because we know it is a cause worth fighting for. We might not get to choose when we have our kids, but we can darn well choose to fight like heck for them.

Until then, I will hold and love and swoon over the little miracle that I already do have. Because I know that she was meant for us, however she got here. I am so grateful for that little girl.

Boom Goes the Dynamite

2011-10-18T12:56:00.000-05:00

Aaron had called me last night on his way home from work. We were in the midst of a serious conversation about Grace. Grace is a pretty awesome little gal, but is definitely capable of doing some not-so-awesome things. As we were talking I could see lightening flashing outside our windows. The thunder rolled in shortly thereafter. I paused briefly in my conversation with Aaron, "Is it raining there yet? It just started pouring here." The lightening seemed close and the thunder was loud. Suddenly I heard an extremely loud crack, so loud that my bones shook, and it seemed to happen right above my head. "Oh my gosh Aaron, that was so loud!" 30 seconds later alarms started going off in my apartment. "Aaron, do you here those? What is going on?!" I got off the phone with Aaron to check on Grace. The alarms went off sporadically for a minute or two. Through it all, amazingly, Grace remained asleep.

I could hear sirens outside and figured with the crazy storm that people might be getting in accidents thus summoning ambulances left and right. I was shocked to learn that the sirens whaled and came to a stop right outside of our apartment. The camera on my phone came in handy while performing more covert ops as I pretended I wasn't a nosing rubber-necker, when I totally was.

Aaron got home while the firemen were making their rounds through the building. It turns out the crack that I heard earlier was lightening hitting the roof. Alarms were going off all throughout our building.

While we were all safe, and most everything in our apartment was fine. Our modem, unfortunately, was our only casualty. No matter what we did, we couldn't get it to turn back on.

I'm posting this from the functioning internet at my sisters house. I see a long phone conversation with AT&T, a trip to best buy, and another modem set up in my near future.

We'll be out of commission for a little while. Dang it.

And Party We Did

2011-10-16T21:06:00.000-05:00

On the first rainy day in October, my sister Stacey celebrated her birthday. So we partied.

After a hearty meal of Tikka Masala, Curry, Naan, and corndogs for the kiddos, we kicked back and relaxed.

Maybe the adults kicked back and relaxed while the youngins played.

Stacey skyped with our parents back in Virginia. Many a "Happy Birthday!" was shared.

And we lit the candles on Stacey's birthday pie. Seriously, you need to try Tootie's Chocolate Heavenly Pie. Beats the pants off of cake any day of the week,

She made a wish.

And she blew out the candles. You turned 25 again this year, right Stace? ;)

In celebration we ate too much, talked to much, and stayed up way too late. And the party did not end there.

While the men worked (or were in preschool), the ladies spent that money for a birthday/girls day pedicure party. If you squint really hard you can see Grace in the fourth seat.

Although a pedicure was offered to her, Sister friend, screamed "Ow, ow ow!!" anytime someone even looked at her toes. No pedicure for her.

The results were lovely.

Did you think it was over? That isn't how we roll 'round these parts. Lunch at Costa Vida also had to take place.

We talked on the way there, and through lunch, and on the way home and talked so much that we didn't realize that we were driving the wrong way. We got completely lost and with Taylor needing to be picked up from preschool and the clock ticking away, we participated in some covert ops that may or may not have involved some screeching turns and a few breakages of the speed limit (just a few). We rolled up smoking tires and all to the preschool and played it off like it ain't no thang. Because that, my friends, is how we roll.

And we sent Stacey's birthday out with a bang.

The Sleeping Debacle

2011-10-15T01:51:00.000-05:00

Sleeping is not my strong suit. Let me rephrase that. Falling asleep is not my strong suit. Once I'm asleep I'm golden. I'll fall into the deepest depths of sleep, so much so that a train could drive through the walls of my apartment right by my face, blare its train whistle, and I wouldn't even be phased.

But falling asleep, not the easiest for me. It takes, at the very least, 30 minutes for me to fall asleep. For the first 15 my mind races and as much as I try to shut my eyes, they pop open and I stare at the dark grey color of my ceiling wishing I could just drift to sleep. The last 15 are a bit fuzzier. My eyelids feel a little heavy, its easier to keep my eyes closed, and my spinning mind slows just enough for me to conk out at minute 30.

Unfortunately, if I watch an exciting show, or one that was particularly dramatic (cough...the bachelorette...cough), or if I have a caffeine full (read: DDP) soda at dinner time, it takes a couple hours to fall asleep.

I didn't realize I was such a high maintenance until recently, and as I looked back on my childhood, a lot of the puzzle pieces fell neatly into place. At a young age I struggled with slumber parties. I loved the activities and the excitement of the party, staying up late, laughing, chatting, snuggling in a sleeping bag on the living room floor; but when the clock struck a late hour and everyone drifted to sleep, I laid awake. My mind wouldn't turn off. I felt alone and scared, and the more I wished myself to sleep the more I couldn't sleep. I ended up in tears, and my parents ended up driving to (insert name of friend here)'s house and picking me up. Bless those friends parents for being so understanding. I just didn't (and don't) get tired at night.

I would classify myself as a Night Owl and Champion Sleeper-Inner (very technical term). And since I only feel tired from 2:00pm-4:30pm, I'm a pretty awesome napper, which always leads to late nights.

Last weekend was a busy one for us, and Grace and I have fallen into bad habits of unintentional late nights and late, late, mornings. She and I were cut from the same cloth, sister friend knows how to sleep in, and I totally dig that. But now, just like last night, its 1:45am and I'm wide awake...and therefore blogging.

I know what I need to do. It involves an alarm clock, a serious amount of will-power, and waking a sleeping baby. But maybe out of sheer inner force I can get her back on track, and therefore start going to bed before midnight.

Keep your fingers crossed for a sister who needs to sleep.

The Pumpkin Patch

2011-10-13T14:34:00.001-05:00

Remember how I said that the skies were clear in Texas? Well, you can call me a liar. The very next day the clouds rolled in thick. But clouds can't put a damper on my October Festive Spirit and as a group we forged ahead with our pumpkin patch excursion.

"Gracie, smile!" You really can't teach poses like this, they just come naturally.

Much better

While my friends, both of whom have two children, calmly kept their children in check, "Don't go too far sweetie, stay by Mommy," and their children listened and heeded their counsel, my child was taking off in an all out sprint down rows of pumpkins. All the while I am screaming, "GRRRAACCEE!!! DON'T GO TOO FARR," as I'm sprinting after her.

While my uncooperative child was running aimlessly, I snapped pictures of Sadie who patiently smiled while I clicked away.

Grace took a brief pause to pose for a picture with Bella.

And then she was off, yet again, to tackle every single attraction at warp speed. Mind you, the ladies I came with were methodically stopping and savoring every moment as their children played calmly

I hate to admit that on more than one occasion I found myself frantically saying "Oh my gosh! Where is Grace?!"

You know those frantic Moms that seem to have zero control of their child, yeah, that was me.

But she was having the time of her life, and that was the whole point of going. So I sucked it up and pretended like the chaos was all part of my master pumpkin patch plan.

And then we sat down, and I was so grateful because I was tired, so very tired.

But we had a good old time. And despite the wind, and the dust, and the exhaustion, we enjoyed ourselves.

And you better believe that we napped like champions. Olympic Gold Medal Napping Champions.

Next pumpkin patch excursion I'm taking Aaron so we can double team Grace.

October is Glorious

2011-10-06T14:39:00.002-05:00

I took my computer to the Mac Store yesterday to get everything sorted out. I learned that the display module is busted and they will have to replace the top half of my computer. So far I will have replaced the bottom piece, and top piece of my computer, and I' now keeping my fingers crossed that the middle piece stays intact. I had to sign a waiver saying I was aware of the risk that everything could be wiped from my computer. Not awesome.

So Old Faithful is going strong, and I've wasted many an hour sifting through the stuff on it. I found this gem, circa summer 2005. Stacey, 2 year old Carly, and me eating CPK and sipping on retro looking DDP. I also have a serious chunk of something stuck in my teeth. So unfortunate. It's crazy to think that Grace is the same age as Carly in this picture.

My computer will be out of commission for about a week, so I figured I would set up shop on Old Faithful and go about my normal business.

I mentioned before that we enjoyed watching General Conference (click on it if you want to know more) on Saturday and Sunday. Grace did her own thing for the most part, or begged us to watch SpongeBob (sponge bot). At one point we realized that she had been quiet, a little too quiet. Aaron looked at me and said, "She's being really quiet." he then called out, "Gracie, what are you doing?" Grace responded, "I'm reading the scriptures about Jesus!!" Sure enough upon a sneaky inspection she was reading her scriptures. (Insert an Aaron to Kara high five here).

When Aaron's parents were in town, Grandee (Aaron's Mom) showed Grace how to look at pictures on her iPad. All of the pictures were of Grace at the time. Ever since then, Grace begs me to "Watch the babies," on my laptop. Which, in a rough translation, means that she wants to watch a slideshow of pictures of her as a baby. While we watched conference on one computer, Grace "watched the babies," on the other.

October is my favorite month of the year. I love the festiveness, the weather, the transition of the seasons. Soups, pumpkin patches, and the sun going down a little earlier. In Virginia it meant a wild array of colors as the leaves changed and fell. I love everything about October. The season changes are a little different here. October in Texas means gorgeous weather. Cool mornings and warm afternoons, cloudless skies and rainbow-esque sunsets.

After months of eyebrow-singeing heat, we finally look forward to being outside. I think all of the birds that flew elsewhere are now flying back to avoid colder temperatures. Grace was in heaven as a group of ducks waddled right up next to her. They then regretted the close proximity to her as she ran and chased them saying "Come here duckies. I'm a hold you!!!"

After mentioning the end of my running retirement, my feet now hit the pavement instead of the treadmill. There is something incredibly therapeutic about filling your lungs with fresh air.

And having this awesome view is much better than watching I Love Lucy Reruns on mute in the complex gym.

Did I mention that my two favorite and only sisters were born in this incredible month? (Happy Birthday Ashby and Stacey) Yes, October is glorious and it is only just the beginning. Thank heavens this month has 31 days, I'm going to enjoy every single one of them.

I Am Tired

2011-10-03T16:05:00.000-05:00

My computer decided to give up the ghost. While perusing the world wide web, my computer froze and my screen gradually got brighter and whiter. Thousands of different colored lines appeared and no matter how much I clicked or pressed or yelled at it, nothing changed. I shut 'er down, and re-booted her back up. Same thing. Tomorrow I will be taking it in for an appointment and hopefully some serious answers as to the lack of awesome that is coming from this situation.

In the meantime I'm clicking away on "Old Faithful." She is the first laptop that I have ever owned, brought into existence in 2004. My college roommates may remember my tiny blue dell notebook. She is alive and well even 7 years later. The same cannot be said of my barely 2 year old computer. Unfortunately, Old Faithful is not properly equipped with the most updated photos so this blog post will be photo-less.

This past week has been an exhausting one. Every so often the Universe decides to have a little fun and crams a lot of really stressful things into a 7 day time period. That was last week.

Thankfully General Conference, this weekend, was the perfect opportunity to rest and recuperate both body and mind. (This was not the case, however, for my poor computer.) I came away uplifted and edified and pretty jazzed about the Provo Tabernacle Temple, or the Temple-nacle.

Last night at 3:48am I heard a distant cry, one that got suddenly and profoundly louder and I was stripped from dream land into the dark and confusing world of reality. My brain wrapped around the sound and I tossed the covers off and and meandered into Grace's room. She no longer has a bumper in her crib as she had used the bumper to propel herself up and out one time. Unfortunately, the lack of bumper causes her pacifiers to fall out. If they fall out and she wants them, it wakes her up and she cries for them "Mommmmmmaaaaaaaaaa. I drop a BeeeeeeBeeeeeeeeessss!" Last night in my sleep induced stupor knew how to solve the problem before I even opened the door. As my eyes adjusted I saw the two culprits laying on the floor. I picked them up, handed them to Grace, said "It's time for sleeps," and headed out the door. My bed was calling my name, and boy did I ever want to answer that call. The door clicked shut and a screaming cry escaped from behind it. I stopped. "Mommmmaaa song! Singing!" Grace has become a recent bedtime lullaby convert, apparently 4:00am fell under this category as well. I turned around, went back into her room and scooped her up into my arms. I began to sing the song that my Mom used to sing to me: Bob Denver's "For Baby." "I'll walk in the rain by your side, I'll cling to the warmth of your tiny hand," The sound of my voice was awful, I questioned why Grace would want this curse brought to her ears, "I'll do anything to make you understand," I started to realize that this was the first time ever, in my entire life, that I woke up in the middle of the night and started singing, "I'll love you more than anybody can." My voice rasped and scratched through the rest lyrics but I could feel Grace's body slumping into my shoulder. I swooned as I soaked up such a rare cuddling moment. My first middle-of-the-night singing attempt, although un-professional, seemed to be just what she needed. With her pacifiers in hand she curled up and fell right to sleep. After a short walk back to my room, I found myself doing just the same.

Today wasn't the best day to come off of a 2 month "running retirement." But I couldn't quit my goal before I started it. I huffed and wheezed and said things like "Come on Kara, you can do this. Keep running." Who knew running one mile could kick your trash to the curb.

So today, I am tired.

Six Days

2011-09-27T14:49:00.000-05:00

The past six days have been somewhat of a blur to me. Aaron was told last Monday that he would be going out of town Thursday. Thursday was the day that my parents were flying in and they were staying with my sister. My sister was sick and needed help picking my parents up from the airport so Grace and I made the decision to go up and stay with my sister for the weekend rather than kickin' it in an empty apartment and driving back and forth.

It doesn't matter whether you're 20 miles from home or 2,000 miles from home, when you're gone, you're gone and my brain took up a permanent residence in vacation mode.

It felt like one big sleepover, which was pretty rad. We made cookies and stayed up late, watched movies, chatted, and then woke up and ate cookies for breakfast. Maybe that last part was just me.

I'm telling you, we party hard.

Cade's cousin was in town and was staying with us for the weekend as well. This only increased the awesome-sauce sleepover feeling. At one point we had 7 adults and 4 kids in the house.

Landon and Grace are a few months apart. We subjected them to lots of kisses. What is it about little ones kissing that is so incredibly adorable? "Gracie give Landon some kisses."

I'm not sure how Landon felt about the situation.

The following group pictures were taken "Texas Style" sitting in the bed of Scott's truck. I'm just sad we didn't have cowboy hats and guns to hold. Maybe next time.

Aaron flew home that Sunday and joined us for dinner, although he missed "Texas Style" picture taking (I know he is super torn up about that...).

Then Monday rolled around. You know how you go out of town and forget that you have responsibilities and things to take care of? Yeah, I definitely pushed those aside. Monday was a rude awakening. I wrote many an email starting with, "I'm sorry things have been crazy." I also made the mistake of taking Tylenol PM last night to stop my brain from going a thousand miles a minute and now it feels like my brain neurons are traveling through molasses.

Let's not end on a sour note, eh? Guess what is back.... They are just half piggies, but they are there and I'm in love. Grace requested to take a picture with her "doggie." Don't see it? It's the tiny blue speck in the picture. Do I dare mention that I may or may not be obsessed with the bow in her hair? I takes every fiber of my being to not buy out everything in Avery's Bows etsy shop (seriously).

(And yes, in case you were wondering, those are pink Toms--courtesy of the incredible Jillian Coons)

Happy Tuesday.

Vinegar

2011-09-20T14:25:00.002-05:00

I feel like I'm being "punk'd," do you see Ashton Kutcher anywhere? Or maybe it's Martha Stewart. Come out from behind that curtain Martha, I know it was you! Martha? No? What is going on. I feel like there has been a big secret that I have stumbled upon and I'm trying to figure out why I never knew this before. Are you confused? Let me give you some background.

A month or so ago I was doing a rapid fire cleaning of my apartment because someone was coming over. I had vacuumed and noticed that there was a gray-ish stain right in the middle of our carpet. I was out of resolve and there wasn't enough time to run to the store. It was about the size of the palm of my hand and couldn't be ignored. I went to the internet to see if I could find an at home solution for a quick fix. One post read "Mix one tablespoon of vinegar with 10 tablespoons of water, wet the stained area, rub with a rag." I had vinegar on hand and got to it. Let's just say that my hopes were low but it was better than nothing. It worked! And it worked really well. You couldn't even tell that the stain had been there. I was shocked.

When I started potty training Grace I decided to use my vinegar mixture, instead of buying resolve, for her accidents. I doubled the recipe and put it in a spray bottle I had on hand. It worked beautifully. On one unfortunate occasion, Grace was sitting at the table and had an accident. Our chairs are microfiber and despite my best cleaning efforts, there were many other stains on them. I thought to myself "I'll do my best to clean up the mess and then I should really re-cover these chair seats." With vinegar water I scrubbed the whole seat. As it dried I noticed that the mixture not only cleaned Grace's mess, but it cleared up all the other stains on the seat. I was floored.

I decided to put it to the ultimate test. I would clean my entire apartment, top to bottom with the mixture. Spray bottle and rag in hand.

It cleaned:

-Carpet

-Tile floor

-Countertops

-Sinks

-Metal fixtures

-Mirrors

-Toilets

-Bathrooms

-Stove top (cuts through grease really well)

Not only did it clean everything in my apartment, but it did a better job cleaning than any other product I have ever used. Why did I never know about this before? Why didn't anyone tell me that I could buy a bottle of vinegar and a $1 Spray bottle from Target and clean my house for an entire year?

Who knew that 1Tbsp of Vinegar and 10 Tbsp of water could work such magic. I'm converted.

I Just Love Her

2011-09-15T09:15:00.002-05:00

Does this picture make you smile?

It makes me smile. Grace is a crack up, pulled this face all on her own. I can't tell you how many times I've found my way into iPhoto just to look at. She kills me.

She is a good kid, a really really good kid. I'm just sad that it took me 18 months to realize all of the difficulties of parenting came from me being crazy-sauce. I had a mold and an idea about what parenting was like. As if it was 95% nurture, and 5% nature. I felt like the responsibility of making Grace into a good person rested solely on my shoulders. I pushed and shoved and tried to fit Grace into that mold. She pushed back and refused to be shoved in. I would get frustrated. It wasn't going the way I wanted it to go. In my desperate attempt to make my child great I was finding myself angry and stressed and overwhelmed.

One day, about 7 months ago, Grace was throwing one of the biggest temper tantrums I had ever witnessed. The thought came to me, "Just love her." And as odd as it may seem, in that wildly chaotic moment, I fell in love with Grace. I had always loved her, but in that moment it became deeper and stronger. Everyday I would get on my knees and pray that I would put my philosophies aside and "just love her."

Recent events have allowed me the opportunity to focus solely on Grace. Aaron and I started trying for another baby about nine months ago. With each passing month and each negative pregnancy test, I felt myself struggling. I had doubts and fears, I felt ashamed and scared, I felt incapable. I found myself on my knees a lot. During those months I continuously had to remind myself to live in the here and now. Everyday I became more grateful for Grace. When I just loved her, I saw her for who she was, and she was incredible. Last month when I realized my period was starting, yet again, I felt a hole. It hit me harder that time than any other time in the past. I walked into my living room and fell on my knees and cried. My shoulders shook as the tears fell. Grace walked across the room and looked at me. I knew that she had never been taught how to console someone and through my tears I wondered what she would do. Would she know what to do? She leaned over to meet my eyes and asked "Okay, Momma?" and I said, "I'm okay, just sad." She paused for a moment then turned and sat on my lap. I cried harder and wrapped my arms around her. Holding her in my arms filled that void I had felt moments earlier. I was so grateful to her in that moment for knowing exactly what I needed, even when I didn't know. I felt guilty for trying to fit her into a mold when the one she came in was better than the one I thought she needed.

And I just love her to pieces. Everyday is better than the next. Everyday I realize how lucky I am to have her. While I'd love it if everything went my way, I'm realizing that without these past nine months I might not have seen what was right in front of my face. A tiny little girl with a plan all her own. A little girl that is mine and that loves me. It's no wonder her name is Grace.

In Training

2011-09-08T14:31:00.000-05:00

There are DVDs scattered across the entertainment center. Finding Nemo, the Emperor's New Groove, Shrek 2, Princess Movie Collection. One of them is always playing. There are books, and toys, stuffed animals, baby dolls, salty snacks and sippies filled with every type of drinkable liquid strewn about the living room. The most important item? The green frog potty. We are in training, potty training.

To be completely honest, I have been dreading this day for a long long time. Grace was ready for it months ago but I couldn't stomach the reality of actually doing it. There was always something going on, or some place I needed to be which conveniently "prevented" me from starting the process. After 5, yes 5, diaper removal, #2-smeared-everywhere incidents, I was done with diapers, and so was she. My schedule was blank for the next two weeks and I decided to bite the bullet.

Day 1 was full of accidents but in the end it was bizarrely successful. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that the good luck continues. There is no looking back. Diaper free or bust.

Grandee and Papa

2011-09-07T14:05:00.001-05:00

Aaron's parents flew into Dallas on the 1st to visit us and help Gracie celebrate her birthday. We were pretty freakin excited. They told me that they would be flying into Dallas at 4:30pm, but they were renting a car and needed to check into their hotel so therefore we would probably meet up around dinner time.

I decided that it would be fun if Grace and I met them at the baggage claim to surprise them. I made a few signs for Grace to hold, and we got their flight information the night before so we were ready. I got out the door a few minutes late, and their flight landed a few minutes early. Aaron called them sneakily to see if they had checked bags or not. They had, I was good to go. I drove to the right place and as soon as I parked my car Aaron called. "They are at baggage claim A29." Me: "What? The information we got last night said it was C12." Aaron: "They changed it, did you not check before you left?" I gritted my teeth, put my car in reverse and peeled out. I got to the A baggage claims just a a huge group of people left. I looked around. No Grandee and Papa.

I called Aaron's Mom, "Hey where are you guys?" "We just got to the car rental place." "Oh, really?" Grace and I are at the baggage claim, we came to surprise you."

I didn't give up. We headed back to the car with our signs and piled back in. I thought to myself "I can totally make it to the car rental place and we'll surprise them there." After a 20 minute drive I finally finally got to it. DFW is a ginormous airport. I called again "Hey did you rent your car yet?" "Yes, we're now on our way to the hotel." Dang it, I missed them AGAIN.

With my defeated attitude I made my way back through the airport and out onto the main road. Construction pushed all the traffic down to one lane and my gas light was on and had been on for awhile. I needed to make it to a gas station and fast. Through some miracle I made it to Costco. As I was filling up my tank, Aaron's Dad called, "Hey we've checked into the hotel." Me: "Oh, I'm getting gas right now, I can see a bunch of hotels from here, which one are you in?" He gave me the crossroads for his hotel. I couldn't see the specific one they were in, but I thought, "Now, I can drive to their hotel and surprise them in the lobby." I told Aaron's Dad that I would call them when I was done. With a full tank I headed to their hotel. It was close and easy to find. My bad attitude faded and I was giddy as Grace and I made our way to the lobby of the hotel. I sent a text to Aaron's Mom, "We're in the lobby!" I made sure that Grace was holding her signs. I couldn't wait to see the looks on their faces when they walked in and saw us there. Aaron's mom called, "Hey sweetie, which complex are you in?" I told her. "Okay, we'll be there soon." Me: "Wait, I'm in the lobby of your hotel." Her: "You are? We're on our way to your apartment!" For the third an final time Grace and I got back into the car, having not surprised anyone and drove back to our apartment. We arrived they same time that Aaron's parents did too.

The whole situation was a 2 hour epic failure. Despite their trip starting off in an epic failure way, we had a fabulous time together. We celebrated Grace's birthday in style, as documented below, and the next day we headed to the zoo.

We got there early in the morning, but it's Texas and it's hot outside, so we took lots of breaks to sit in the shade.

Once we were all good and sweaty, we headed back home.

Grace wearing her birthday outfit from Grandee and Papa.

There were many trips to the park, breakfasts at Chick-Fil-A, dinners out, naps in the afternoons, card games at night, and rides on the carousel.

We had so much fun and already miss having Grandee and Papa here.

Thanks for a wonderful time. Visit again soon!

Her Day in Pictures

2011-09-06T14:26:00.001-05:00

Blowing up balloons during the wee hours of the morn, totally worth it.

Opening up her first present of the day from her Mema.

Birthday dress!

Lunch at Chick-Fil-A with Grandee and Papa.

Eating her favorite treat of all time. Ice cream, or as she says it: s'cream.

Tasting the sweet nectar for the first time. Sister is a Barnard, through and through.

Birthday dinner with free molten lava cake. Her mother was very pleased with this.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have a very special birthday, Grace turned two today!" The singing and clapping was ridiculously loud, louder than I have ever experienced. I thought Grace would burst into tears at any moment. Despite being startled out of her mind when they started clapping/singing, she held it together really well.

Presents!

Final verdict on the cake: Meh. Sister friend is not a cake person. Give her ice cream and she is set, give her cake and she doesn't care. No smashing this year, one bite with a fork was good enough for her.

Her 2nd birthday was a success.

For the Birthday Girl

2011-09-02T04:16:00.000-05:00

My life has changed quite a bit. I remember staying up late to cram for a test or to put a project together at the last minute, because procrastination is how I roll. In college I would push the limits whether it was staying up just because we could or pulling all-nighters to write a journal for a class I should have been writing one for the entire semester.

Tonight I stayed up late blowing up balloons, wrapping presents, and baking a cake for Gracie's birthday. As in I started the cake at 11:00pm, put on a movie, and now its 3:50 in the morning. Procrastination is alive and well with me. I know she won't remember any of the things that I put together, but I wanted it to be special. I know her eyes will light up when she sees a room full of balloons that she can kick around. She'll have fun tearing the paper off of her gifts and making a mess. I hope she eats her cake this year, instead of crying, and digs her fingers deep into the frosting. I want her to celebrate, have fun, and be happy on this day. Because this day two years ago was a big day for me and I want her to know how grateful I am.

She has made me a better person. As a parent I am definitely flawed. My methods change, my consistency isn't top notch, I'm forgetful, and I get flustered. But she loves me still. She loves me at my weakest moments and the times when I want to give up. She loves me when I'm sad, when I'm happy, and when I just don't have the time. She is resilient and understanding, and forgives me instantaneously. And despite seeing me minutes earlier she will hold my face in her hands and say "I missed you Mama."

I thought I knew what life had in store for me on that first day that I held her. I thought I knew how it would work and what our relationship would be like. I thought I had it all figured out. I didn't, I had no idea. It's been harder, and better, and more rewarding. I've felt a range of emotions that I never knew existed, and I've loved harder and felt it deep in the fibers of my being more than I ever thought possible. A part of my soul lives in that little body of hers and it will always be there.

These two years are just the beginning.

Happy 2nd Birthday Grace.

Take Me Out to the Ball Game

2011-08-28T15:50:00.000-05:00

While the East Coast was hunkering down for a Hurricane: emptying grocery shelves, boarding up windows, and charging flashlight batteries, Aaron and I went to a baseball game.

We walked to our seats and got a pretty legit view of the new Dallas Cowboys Stadium. It was a sight to behold

I have been to a few baseball stadiums in my time, which is odd considering the fact that I don't actually like watching baseball, but I was taken back by how beautiful and green the field was. The grass around our apartment is dying a slow and patchy death due to the heat, and seeing a lush well-groomed stretch of grass brought a tear to my eye.

As we settled into our seats we had a nice view.

The Rangers played well

We were with good company.

Texas pride was out and about and going strong

We were brought to our feet by a grand slam.

And we yelled "Texas!" at all the right times.

The heat was absolutely miserable, but the night itself was a lot of fun.

With a Rangers game under our belts, we're now looking to check Cowboys game, and Mavericks game off of our list. Our Texas citizenship is starting to solidify.

Follow the Yellow Brick Road

2011-08-24T21:26:00.000-05:00

There seems to be a painted nail trend going on. I thank pinterest for all of my knowledge concerning recent trends. People do crazy things with their nails these days. Leopard print, rainbow, glitter, maybe even all the pictures from a favorite childhood story meticulously painted on all 10 nails. Unfortunately for me they didn't have those bottles of nail polish at the place I went to the other day. The craziest it got was red with sparkles. It makes me think of Dorothy's Ruby Red slippers that she had to click three times while saying "There's no place like home," so she could get out of the land of Oz.

All week long when I catch glimpses of my nails I think to myself, "What do I consider home? If I had to click my heals three time to get home, where would I land?" I have moved a lot in the past 5 years. Utah, California, Texas. My roots are deeply embedded in Virginia, where I grew up. Those tall green trees and gorgeous seasons make my heart swoon. Deep down in my soul I am a Virginian. But Virginia, in all its beauty and awesomeness isn't home anymore either. I couldn't define 'home' for the longest time. Tonight I was away at a Cub Scout Pack meeting (Yes, I sported the Canary Yellow Scout Leader shirt, it was my yellow brick road to my ruby red nails). When I came home I was greeted at the door by my Gracie yelling "Momma, Momma!" I gave Aaron and kiss and Gracie led me by the hand to the couch so I could sit and snuggle with her. I finally had my answer. This was home. Being with Aaron and Grace. Sitting together. Loving each other. Soaking up the tiny moments of the every day together. The scenery can change and differ and be hot or cold, green or brown, but I will always be home when I'm with the ones that I love. So there is no need to click my heals and say goodbye's. I'm already home.

The Long and Short of It

2011-08-20T23:28:00.000-05:00

I'm not sure what my drive is with extremely long marathon posts, but here is another one.

In 2007 I was in a rut. I needed a change. With a desire to move forward and grow and change I decided to chop my hair off (and you all know much much I like haircuts) as an act of my new found direction in life.

I booked an appointment and basically told my stylist to "go for it" and it was a done deal. New me.

I established a rule for myself with that experience. If my hair was so long that I would rather wear it in a ponytail than take the time to do it, then it was too long. Short hair forced me to style it everyday, basically, a no-pony-tail zone. I kept my hair short, and even survived a nightmare hair cutting experience, but by the time I was pregnant with Grace, 2 years later, I started to grow it out.

Three years of growing it out and my hair was long, very very long. I had almost achieved Mermaid Status with it. I had many a trim to cut off dead ends and to thin the bejeezies of out it, but I had done it. I even survived the heat wave with my hair. I was proud. But proud moments often falter when it takes 45 minutes to style that hair. Combined with a shower, make-up, and corralling a toddler I swore it took me 3 1/2 years from start to finish. I was batting at once a week, usually Sunday, where I would go through the effort of styling it. Jillian actually styled my hair when she visited, bless her soul.

But, enough was enough. I had reached my limit and drifted into the land of ponytails and no blow dryers. I took the plunge this afternoon and bid adieu to Mermaid Status.

Telephonular Device

2011-08-16T23:53:00.001-05:00

When I got my current cell phone I had two requests. #1. I wanted it to have a full keyboard for texting. #2. I wanted it to have a camera. There are moments that occur where the big bulky camera is out of reach and a cell phone camera is key. G-Money and I also like to take pictures and send them to Aaron to show what he's missing out on with all that working he is doing. Every so often I download these pictures onto my computer, here is the recent rush of photos.

Grace is a shoe girl. Through and through. We have to keep our closet door closed or she with ransack the shoes and they will be strewn about the apartment. She has great taste and prefers to wear heals regardless of her attire. I think she is better at walking in them than I am. Jammies go with red heals, right?

Grace always sits in Aaron's chair when watching a show. I honestly don't think I've ever seen her get up onto the couch. On this particular day she added her own toddler flair. Recliner plus bumbo equals pure comfort. And yes, at 23 months she can still fit into that thing.

I purchased some pork at Walmart that ended up being rancid. I took it back to the store for a refund and was told that with food I could only make an exchange. Not needing anything in particular, I browsed the store and came back with all the ingredients to make chocolate chip cookies. As the cashier was ringing me up she informed me that I was a $1.50 short of my exchange amount, and that I should "grab a pack of gum or something." I headed to one of the aisles and browsed my options. I settled on a Twix bar, but the regular sized ones were only 75 cents, still leaving me 75 cents shy of my goal. I was totally forced to go with a king size, my life is so tough sometimes. Grace and I headed out with our overly sugary and caloric loot. Texas is still in the throes of an intense heat wave and that twix bar started melting the second we stepped outside. By the time we got in the car I knew that thing was a goner. In a moment of sheer panic we had to save the twix bar so we inhaled it as fast as humanly possible. I'm telling you, life is tough for us.

Our maiden voyage for Operation Wear Grace Out. Grace looks thrilled, doesn't she?

Texting Aaron at work.

I am a recent convert to pinterest. My first time on, I ~~wasted~~ spent hours browsing through pictures and links that blew my mind. I am not a super crafty person but pinterest had so many good ideas out there that I couldn't pass them up. I was looking for something ABC related for a blank wall in Grace's room. I found a pin and a link and realized that this blogger was offering free printables. A few days and lots of printer ink later, an ABC craft for cheap. Love it.

Saturday date night at the Dallas temple. Perfect. And can I mention that nothing is finer than your husband in a white shirt and tie?

Reading about Samuel the Lamanite.

A few months ago I went shopping at Walmart. When I grabbed my diaper bag out of the cart to pay for my groceries I heard my keys drop to the floor. After paying for the groceries, about 4 Walmart workers and I spent half an hour searching for the keys. We were on our knees, we used brooms, and I walked all the surrounding aisles. The next day I made copies of all the lost keys. I went to customer service every Monday about 5 or 6 times asking for the keys. I basically gave up hope on the whole endeavor. Monday on a whim I decided to check again. There they were, right on the top. It was a Monday miracle!

Today Grace and I played in the "backyard," aka the stairwell to our apartment.

Things that were Once Mine

2011-08-16T01:37:00.000-05:00

The "Duck"

I use quotations because it's not technically a duck, but a goose, although it looks like a duck. My Junior year of High School I was gifted a plastic "duck" statue thing. It was from a home decorating magazine and the duck came with a series of outfits. One outfit for all of the major holidays, as well as a few novelty outfits for fun, rain coat, hula girl, ballerina. I loved it. I dragged that duck everywhere. I took him to college and ensured his safe arrival through 6 different moves. Aaron asked me on multiple occasions to get rid of it, because it was "totally pointless." I couldn't part with it. I knew one day we were going to have kids and, when they were old enough, they would take notice and appreciate the duck for its complete awesomeness. That day has arrived. The duck which was once a decoration in Grace's room is now her partner in crime.

She dresses him up, makes sure his always has his cowboy hat, and puts him down for naps. I take a certain amount of joy out of this situation. All of those moves, and years, and hopes that it would be worth it have finally paid of.

Clothing

When I was pregnant, my Mom sent me a package full of old outfits of mine from when I was a baby, that I could pass down to my little girl. On Sunday I dressed Grace up in one of those outfits. To be honest, I think it's still a rad little get-up. I have no idea how my mom kept such a delicate light pink outfit in mint condition. I guess after four kids you develop mad laundry abilities.

Aaron

Once upon a time he was just mine. I had him all to myself, and while I still have him, I now have to share him. Grace and Aaron are serious pals as I have mentioned before. They have a special bond and seem to understand each other on a different level.

He knows the right way to read books

The right way to play with stuffed animals

And the right way to snuggle

There is no way I can be selfish and keep him all to myself when he makes her so incredibly happy too. And I am more than happy to sit back and watch them play, and share, and giggle.

So, to Gracie, what once was mine can now be yours.

Forever Changed

2011-08-13T11:37:00.000-05:00

Any words that I could say would feel incomplete, so I invite you to read the words of Ruby's parents.

http://aniandmatttaylor.blogspot.com/

I ached all day yesterday. I prayed. I cried. And I realized that because of Ruby Jane, I am forever changed. She strengthened my testimony in the gospel. Her life and example forced me to ask hard questions and earnestly seek the right answers. In the 8 months she was here, she taught me more about life than I ever thought an infant could. She is, not was, incredible.

Ani, thank you so much for sharing your fight and sharing your daughter with the world. It is a better place because of her.

Please keep the Taylor family in your prayers.

In Need of Sleep

2011-08-11T14:07:00.000-05:00

At around 10:30 this morning Grace started melting down. Random bouts of tears after seemingly innocent things. "Gracie, do you want to give your baby some kisses?" "(Tears) It's (sob) my (cry) baby!" We snuggled on the couch, but not the way she wanted. We read the pages of her books, but not in the order she was hoping. I went back to the basics of early parenting. Is she fed? Yes. Is she dry? Yes. Is she tired? I'm not sure. I figured she might be tired and knew that my chances were basically slim to none of her actually falling asleep, but I took the plunge anyway. As I shut the door to her room and walked away I rolled my eyes at myself "Why did you even try? It's an hour and a half before her naptime. You know you're going to have to just go back in and get her." After thirty minutes of silence I knew that the little lass was sleeping. I was in shock.

About an hour into her uncharacteristically early nap it finally dawned on me why what was happening, was actually happening. Here is some background. When Jillian and Lucas were here, Grace had a constant playmate. She and Lucas would run around with each other, leading them to be exhausted during naps and at night. Once they left, Grace and I got sick and were stuck inside, at home, all weekend. With no outlet for her ever growing energy levels Grace woke up early, strongly rebelled against naps, and had a few (cough...3...cough) diaper removal incidents. And yes, the diapers were duct taped. I mentally couldn't handle the lack of sleeping and boredom leading to Houdini like skills of duct taped diaper removal during naptime.

On Monday, I devised a plan. This plan: Operation Wear Grace Out.

After a long play-date with cousins. I packed our "Outing" bag with the essentials and we ventured out.

The fountains were our first stop.

It was a hit. She ran and played to her hearts content.

That night, Aaron got off early and we headed to the mall for some window shopping and carousel riding. G was ecstatic about the horses, but after saddling up she lost her nerve and opted for the seat thingy. No less thrilling, however.

The next day, we headed to the water park with my sister and her kids.

And my water loving baby was in heaven

After multiple trips down the lazy river, hours in the splash area, and many rounds in the wave pool (in which Grace insisted that we both lay on our tummies whilst getting splashed in the face), Grace was completely spent.

She took a later nap and woke up around the time that Aaron got home and we headed off to Chick-Fil-A for some dinner and Play-Place action.

Her sleep schedule seemed to be back on track but her energy levels must not have caught up. Our plans fell through this morning which allowed for some down-time and a much needed early nap for this wee babe.

Operation Wear Grace Out was a success. I must start planning for OWGO part 2 for next week. Anyone in?

Prayers to be Prayed

2011-08-10T08:38:00.000-05:00

My mind has been so preoccupied as of late. I find myself feeling anxious, checking my computer, and falling to my knees to say a quick and earnest prayer at random times during the day. A friend, I met through the blogosphere, and her family are sitting in a hospital room watching their just turned seven month old cling to life. Ruby Jane's liver is failing. She is in desperate need of a transplant. During a time in her life where she should be learning to sit up, and scoot, and babble, Ruby is fighting for her life.

(Photos taken from their family blog and are property of the Taylor family)

I am asking for a favor, and by asking I mean begging and pleading, for you to say a prayer for this sweet little girl. Pray that her body will be stable enough to receive a transplant, pray for her to continue to fight, pray to lift up her family. There is something so incredibly powerful about prayer and I wouldn't feel right with myself if I didn't reach out to the incredible people I know and ask them to pray.

Thank you for listening, and thank you even more so for praying. If you would like more information on Ruby Jane and her status, follow this link.

It Seems Wrong

2011-08-08T00:59:00.000-05:00

There is something totally wrong with catching a cold in August, don't you think? Colds remind me of scarves and sipping warm hot cocoa while surrounded by a mountain of tissues, not 100+ degree weather and fans on full blast blowing your tissues everywhere. But, alas, that is where we are. We are sick. Me and Grace to be specific. Our "Get Well" goods are strewn about the countertop, and our jammies are in full force.

While I'd like to report that we have made the most of our ill time, that isn't actually the case. Not unless you count seeing Shrek 2, Enchanted, and The Emperor's New Groove multiple times, as making the most of things.

With Aaron holding down the fort this morning I crashed from 10:30am to 3:30pm. It really was lovely, despite the fact that its almost 1am and I am still awake. Darn it all. But in the grand scheme of feeling better, 5 hour naps have magical qualities, I swear.

Tomorrow I resolve to will this cold away with sheer inner power, or I will take some DayQuil, pop in Shrek 2, and snuggle with Grace. Both are good options.

As for now, at 1am, I should probably go to sleep. Goodnight.

Where I've Been

2011-08-05T12:08:00.001-05:00

Shortly after the hair-cutting incident my parents came in town. They came for a variety of reasons.

One of which was my nephew's 5th birthday. Happy Birthday Taylor, T-Man, Tay Tay.

Aaron and I had the brilliant idea to surprise Taylor with a phone call from Luke Skywalker (a current favorite of his). We changed Aaron's picture and name in Stacey's phone and gave him a call. "Luke's" voice was a little too soft through the phone and a little too loud from a distance. We thought for sure Taylor would pick up on it. "Luke" left a gift on the front porch (the helmet) and despite Taylor not hearing a word Luke said, his screams and excitement more than made up for it. I don't know who had more fun with it, me or him.

The second reason family came in town was for my niece Carly's baptism. It was a wonderful day. I can't believe that I have an eight-year-old niece.

Carly was so excited and beamed in all her pictures. I was so glad that I got to be a part of her special day.

Grace was also excited and desperately wanted to be a part of the Foust family, resulting in her photo-bombing their family pictures, not once...

But twice.

Thankfully the baptism gave us an excuse to catch up with old friends

and eat BBQ with the extended family.

After a brief period at home where all the dentists/dental students in the family used their DDS degrees to build Hogwarts out of Legos

And where Grace got to spend quality time with Matt, who she lovingly calls "Map"

We headed out on the boat. Oh the boat.

The 107 degree temperatures made for nice warm water to jump into (and wipeout in) while wakeboarding.

After Stacey showed the lake who was boss, I took my turn. Proof that I can actually get up on a wakeboard despite my overuse of T-Rex arms while holding onto the rope.

And just when I thought I had Mad skills, my brother-in-law went. One piece of humble pie... served cold.

My family left Sunday night, and at 5am on Monday morning I found myself at the airport picking up my old college roommate and her son. Good Morning Lucas. (photos courtesy of Jillian Coons)

Our pictures were lacking during her visit. If we had taken out our cameras to document what was happening you would have seen 4,000 pictures of us talking, laughing, eating at chick-fil-a, sitting in our jammies, and complaining about the heat.

The crazy heat, which ranged from 102 degrees to 114 degrees, forced us to stay inside. Lucas and Grace were more than happy to run around, giggle at each other, and share/fight over Lucas' big yellow ball. Jillian and I were more than happy to talk for hours on end.

I was vacuuming when Jillian came out of the bathroom and said, "I just took a whole bunch of pictures that we can use to blackmail our children." I smiled, because it is very obvious why we are friends. Sorry kids. This picture will make a comeback in 16 years.

The last day that Jillian was here we actually got up, got ready, and headed downtown to go shopping. Not before we got completely and totally lost first, because that is how we roll. We attempted a few pictures of just us which came out a wee bit unsuccessful.

Then with the camera on timer, we finally got a picture of all of us together.

Last night I reluctantly drove Jillian and Lucas back to the airport to send them home, and shed a tear this morning when my apartment felt so empty.

It was a great week full of family and friends and despite the fact that I woke up this morning with a crazy crazy cold, I am one happy and satisfied girl. My love and life canteens are totally full, no cold can diminish those.

Now, where is my dayquil?

The Battle of the Mullet

2011-07-27T11:58:00.000-05:00

Mullets. I talk about them on this blog almost as much as I talk about pig-tails. Since Day 1 I feel like I've been on the war path with Mullets. Born with a "Party in the Back" attitude, Grace has been plagued by the Mullet.

It took me three months of business bald in the front, 1987 party in the back before I couldn't take it anymore and subjected Grace to her first haircut.

With trimmed locks, I thought "My work here is done." and we moved on. A new a beautiful even head of hair was just around the corner, or so I thought.

The Mullet didn't give up. It laid low and struck around 18 months.

Bound and determined to show the 80s who was boss I wielded some scissors and took action. The results were exactly what I hoped and in an act of triumph I dusted my hands of the mullet. "Be gone, you are not welcome here!"

It was obvious that I didn't mind cutting my child's hair. I had no attachment to baby hairs, especially ones that grow at different rates. But, that was just my preference, and to be honest I think I was in the minority.

Recently, I have felt like Grace's hair was getting longer in the back. It started to look poofy and bulky. I kept telling myself that I would trim it and from that point on let her hair grow as it wanted. Some days I thought it looked fine. I would go back and forth.

Yesterday I felt like throwing caution to the wind. Why the heck not? I grabbed the hair cutting scissors that came with Aaron's buzzer thing, got Grace down to her diaper and started cutting her hair in the bathtub. My scissors hesitated before I made the first cut. It looked like a lot, I wasn't confident or completely sure. I took a deep breath and snipped. There was no turning back. I held the hair between my fingers, like all the hair dressers I'd ever seen cut my hair, and cut away. I slipped into some parallel universe of cutting hair where there were no regrets and no qualms about how much hair was being cut. I checked things out, fed Grace lunch, and put her down for a nap. I still felt good about everything. When she woke up, reality seeped in real slow and inside I began to panic. Her hair wasn't just trimmed a little, It. Was. Short. Really really truly short.

I reasoned with myself that it wasn't as bad as I thought. That now it would finally grow in the same length. The justifications were lame and totally useless. I had turned my little girl into a mini toddler-version of Justin Bieber and I knew it.

When I saw the above picture of her in the purple jammies the day before I cut her hair, I wanted to cry. Cry big crocodile tears. Her golden locks didn't look poofy or bulky or mullet-y, it looked cute, and adorable and girly. A huge mistake was made and I had no one to blame but myself. I laid awake for about 2 hours last night freaking out about it. What have I done? Although I wanted to hide everything and pretend that it never, ever, happened, maybe even tape some of the stray hair back on, I knew I couldn't. I'd post pictures of Grace, take her to church, and people would wonder, why on Earth did she do that. My response? Because I'm an idiot.

I officially announce this as my retirement from General in the Mullet Battle militia. I will not take another snip. She will just have to look like Rapunzel for the rest of her life.

As with everything, Grace remains un-phased and couldn't care less if she tried. Which makes me a little less mopey and down on the situation. For now, I'll wait for those little hairs to grow back.

In the meantime, please send happy hair growing thoughts to Texas. My sanity needs them.

We're Not Brilliant, That's For Sure

2011-07-25T14:25:00.000-05:00

It's two in the afternoon and I'm already sipping on my third Diet Dr. Pepper. I'm tired. So tired.

Aaron and I had the not so brilliant idea of purging our closest at 11:45 last night. I'm not sure what struck us in that moment, but we were motivated and wanting to work. We pulled shirts off of hangers, sweaters out of piles, and shoes covered in dust off of the floor. We joked about all the clothes that we had hung onto, clothes that were obviously out of style and were only cool when we were in high school. I finally parted with a skirt that I purchased in 2002, my sophomore year in high school. I even remember the day that I found it, tried it on, and bought it. The sales lady told me I could dress it up, or dress it down, and it was perfect for every occasion. I wore it a few times and through the years vowed to find something equally as awesome to go with the skirt. I never found anything, my almost 10 year mission had to come to an end, I hesitantly tossed it in the "donate" pile. We scrounged through drawers and more than once we both said "Oh, this was in here?"

Aaron had t-shirts and shorts from a phase where we tried to "change" his style in college. I almost laughed when he dug those up from the depths of our dresser.

We filled three trash bags up with clothes and shoes. While I enjoyed seeing my closest become more organized and de-cluttering my life, part of me was having a serious panic attack. I went all crazy "What-Not-to-Wear" on my closet and although the only stuff in there is what I actually wear, all of my back ups, and just-in-case outfits, and maybe-these-shoes-will-come-back-in-style kicks are gone. The screaming reality that my closest is almost bare only goes to prove that I need a wardrobe update and I need it fast.

And despite my head spinning last night. "Where to start? How much to budget? What is even in style anymore? When did I get so uncool?" I hit the pillow with full force around two a.m. and slept like I had a Masters degree in exhaustion.

Grace chose this morning to wake up an hour early. So the overuse of DDP was absolutely necessary. Now, does anyone want to take me shopping?

It's a Date

2011-07-23T01:08:00.001-05:00

As mentioned before, the heat is crazy hot sometimes. Although I strongly dislike sweating as if I ran a marathon despite only walking to my car, my bold declarations of holing myself up at home became weak. I got a raging case of cabin fever. There are only so many activities, and episodes of Diego, and "Pincess" movies that Grace and I can watch before both of our brains turn to mush. We wanted out no matter how hot.

So today we called Aaron and asked him out. "Hey stud, you wanna go out on a date with us?" We needed a night on the town and wanted our favorite man to take us there.

One bath, one shower, two dresses, and two hair styles later we were ready.

Since I pick our Friday-Night-Eat-Out location 100% of the time, I told Aaron it was his call, it being his date and all.

We cruised around and enjoyed the A/C

And were entertained by the comedic stylings of Grace herself.

And Aaron decided Mexican was the best way to go, after checking "Do you have a wait?" and them responding "Absolutely not." We were in.

It was interesting to be on a date at a place with dim lighting and cloth napkins that didn't have Chick-Fil-A written on them, all while Grace sitting next to us in a high chair. We talked in hushed tones and pretended like we totally get dressed every weekend and go out as a family to places that don't have drive-thrus. It was fun.

We got home, tucked the little one in bed, and chatted over frozen yogurt while reminiscing about when we first met and got to know each other. It was just what the doctor ordered.

Cabin fever? Cured.

Have a happy weekend.

What Goes Around Comes Around

2011-07-20T14:27:00.001-05:00

A few weeks back I read a blog post written by one of my favorite people, Diana. I'd publish a link with her name but her awesome blog is privatized. Since you are unable to blog-stalk her (as I totally would) I'll give you a brief description. Diana and I met through our blogs while living in Provo. Our husbands were both offered jobs at the same office in California. We went on a double blind date to meet each other (and our husbands), and our friendship was born. Since meeting in Utah and hanging out in California, our paths have split and we find ourselves in different states. I place the blame on Diana, since she moved first. But, she had a good reason. Her daughter was a little over one when Diana learned that she was pregnant with twins. She would be having three babies under the age of two. She and her husband gave it some serious thought and decided they needed to be near family. They are now living a crazy, albeit totally awesome, life juggling three girls under three, a house, and a new job. Her blog is fascinating.

Now that you're familiar with Diana, onto the story. She posted about an incident that occurred with her 2 year old daughter. She walked in after nap time to find the room covered in, for lack of a better word, number two. She chronicled her horror and the cleaning process, and how ultimately it got her daughter to stop using a pacifier. As I read, I scrunched my nose and whispered under my breath "oh. my. gosh." and perhaps a few times I mentally dry heaved. I thought, "Poor Diana." and thanked my lucky stars that Grace hadn't done that.

Grace has recently entered the pants/diaper removal phase. A couple of days ago she removed her diaper after she woke up and peed all over her bed and blanket. No big deal, thats what the washer is for, right? So the next day before her nap, I thought I would outsmart my Houdini child and put her in a onesie with snaps on the bottom. I mentally patted myself on the back because "there is no way she could get out of this." She chit chatted at the beginning of her nap, as per usual, and gradually fell silent. I assumed my little angel child was sleeping and went about my normal nap-time business. I heard more chit chat about half way through her nap. Never a good sign.

When I opened the door the smell hit me first, and then I saw it. Diaper on one side, child with open onesie on the other, and more brown than I had ever seen out in the open. I stopped dead in my tracks, my mouth gaped open and I stood there with my hands on my cheeks and my eyes darting everywhere trying to make sense of what I saw. I have no idea how long I stood there. It could have been 10 minutes, or an hour. When I came to, I walked out of the room and grabbed my phone. I dialed Aaron's number and when I heard his voice I said. "Aaron, it's everywhere. It's all over. Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh. I don't know whether to laugh or cry." his response, "Then you should laugh." I plucked my number two covered child and put her in the bathtub. While I basically scrubbed the first layer of her skin off, I talked to her about how being curious and trying new things is fun and interesting, but that there are boundaries to what should be explored and what should be left well enough alone. I distinctly remember saying the phrase "Poop belongs in your diaper or the potty, it does not belong anywhere else."

I'll spare you the gory pictures and share with you just one. The same type of picture Diana shared when this happened to her. Thankfully my camera battery was dead and the phone camera picture quality isn't the best so you can't really see too much detail. I found her pacifier after moving her crib away from the wall, and threw it away shortly thereafter.

I dried Grace off, got her a snack, plopped her high chair in front of a movie and cleaned my little heart out. Laundry was first.

And then scrubbing, wiping, bagging, spraying, magic eraser-ing, sanitizing, and everything just short of burning it in a bonfire.

I thought to myself, what comes around really does go around. And today out of sheer necessity I actually taped my child's diaper so the only way to get her out of it was to use scissors. I could not handle another poop filled day. Although potty training is filled with all sorts of this cleaning, I'm getting pretty close to kissing diapers goodbye.

Musings

2011-07-18T16:29:00.001-05:00

Heat

As we met people after moving to Texas one of their initial questions was "When did you move here." We spouted off our answer, which was mid-October, and almost immediately they would respond, "Oh, so you haven't experienced a summer here, huh?" I asked around to see what I could expect during the summer. Some responses caught me off guard. "You just don't go outside." or "It's like winter where its too cold to leave your house, but instead of too cold, it's too hot."

Phrases like that struck serious fear in my heart. I tried to talk myself down, like maybe it wouldn't be that bad. I survived being 9 months pregnant during the hottest month of the year in California with no air conditioning. I could get through this too, right?

Boy, was I wrong. A while back I missed running a few errands in the morning and told myself that I would run them in the afternoon. I made calls, set up appointments, and Grace and I were out the door by 4:00pm. As per usual, I started to sweat the minute I opened my front door. When I got down to my car the sun hit me with serious force, and I swear my body temperature doubled. As I opened my car door a gust of heat and humidity smacked me in the face. The increase in temperature was obvious. Grace gripped my shoulder tightly while she said "Mommy, hot hot." I forced my extremely reluctant toddler into her seat urging her to comply so I could quickly, and safely, start the car and get the A/C going. I eased myself into my seat and once I shut the door I felt like I was suffocating, as if the pressure of the heat was forcing the air out of my lungs and replacing it with sticky humid oxygen-less air. We sweated profusely on the ride to each destination. I almost cried getting out of the car each time knowing that we would have to get back in and repeat the process over. I vowed that I would never, ever, do that again.

Now I grocery shop at 8:30am, making sure to get home by 11:30am. I don't leave the house, unless I absolutely have to, in the afternoon. My sweat glands just can't handle it.

My friend Jamie and I had the brilliant idea to take our girls to the fountains at 10:30 in the morning. On my way there I saw a sign stating that it was already 102 degrees outside. After being at the beach for a week, the last thing I wanted was to be cooped up at home. I gritted my teeth and vowed to make the best of it. Our girls ran and splashed and loved every moment. Jamie and I huddled in the shade of a small whimpy tree and I mulled over in my mind of how strange it would be if I stripped naked and ran through the fountains all crazy like. Heat makes my pride take a back seat. After an hour, and after our clothes had officially melted into our skin, we called it a day. I consider myself officially humbled. You really don't mess with this Texas heat (pun semi intended).

Smiles

After almost two years of crazy, eyes shut tight, forced smiles my girl finally finally smiled for reals in front of the camera. A smile so cute and genuine that I had to wipe my heart off of the floor because it melted right there on the spot. Had the camera been pointed at me you would have seen a look of shock, awe, pride, and its-about-friggin'-time. I just love her.

I blame her lack of smiling ability on her father.

Okay maybe I won't blame him, he is actually extremely handsome.

Reading

I'm currently in a reading mood. I cycle between reading, watching shows on netflix, and dinking around on my computer. As I said before, I'm currently stuck in the reading section. This has been fueled by My mom and I making a Kindle Swap, where we read the books the other has bought for their Kindle. This past week I've read "Heaven is for Real" by Todd Burpo and "Black Heels to Tractor Wheels" by Ree Drummond (the Pioneer Woman). Both were very good but I am slightly (read: completely) obsessed with Ree Drummond's book, which is a true story of how she met and married her husband. I highly recommended it. Had life not gotten all in the way and such, I would have blown through that sucker in less than a day.

Piggies

As evidenced here and here, I am quite fond of putting Grace's hair into pig-tails. Now she has enough hair that we have taken the piggies north.

A severe amount of mousse was used, and they fell out later in the day causing a pig-tail induced mullet, but before that happened they were wonderful and I couldn't stop staring at how cute sister friend looked with them in.

Isn't It About Time?

2011-07-14T21:54:00.000-05:00

It's been almost twelve months exactly since I've changed my blog header. I figured the blog was way overdue. In case you forgot what it looked like, here she is (minus the writing... I can't find the copy my sister sent me).

We stood there as residents of California. Our baby was 10 months old, bald in the front and very brown haired in the back.

Now we are residents of Texas. Our baby is no longer a baby, but is so close to two it brings tears to my eyes and her hair is blond and wavy.

Image and text courtesy of Ashby Hatch Photography

These past twelve months have been a whirlwind. Lots of change, and change of plans. We've hit bumps in the road, said goodbye to ones we've loved, and welcomed new members into the family. It's been good, and even though I sometimes don't want to admit it, the change has been good too. It has forced me to grow and stretch and get over my-bad-self. And standing in the same sand one year later was refreshing, because we're growing up, and making it work. So, folks, cheers to a great 12 months, bring on 12 more.

The Ocean is my Only Medication

2011-07-13T21:54:00.001-05:00

Do you look forward to the Beach Trip Recap Post as much as I look forward to the actual vacation? No? Well, you should.

We boarded our flight on Friday morning, with the appropriate reading materials.

Then packed and piled into cars for the drive down.

I soaked up every tree, every blade of grass, and every speck of green along the way to fuel my inner Virginian who misses these trees so very much.

We made the necessary pit stops along the way. Honey Cinnamon Almonds? I can't even begin to describe how delicious they were. Two cans were purchased both are now gone.

We made it to our destination and the vacation officially began. Grace is a huge fan of Uncle RyRy.

Our view was obstructed by new beach house decor.

We chatted

I played around with my camera

We frolicked in the sand before family pictures.

We got rained out during family pictures

We saw the most incredible rainbow

And I finally got a picture of a sunset (take that Day 12)

Ashby getting her crazy rainbow picture

We lounged by the pool

We read our little hearts out

Kindles in full force

The babies were happy and contained. I love my Lily.

Beach umbrellas were rocked

Good times were had

Poppy was given a rapper name: P. Pops Anonymous,

Coozies (no I don't really know how to spell that) were purchased and loved

Cousins were reunited

And requested a funny face picture

Lulu modeled

Sand made its way everywhere

We splashed in the pool

and walked through the sand

And before we knew it, the week was over and we were driving north again.

Mr. Nutter was also there. Sister friend has a serious Mr. Nutter addiction.

After a short nights rest we found ourselves at the airport

With a ridiculous amount of carry on luggage

and traveling essentials

And we flew, on the wings of love, back to the lonestar state.

My mind on a permanent vacation

The ocean is my only medication

Wishing my condition ain't ever gonna go away

--Zac Brown Band "Knee Deep"

Currently

2011-07-12T13:29:00.000-05:00

One of the life lessons that I feel like I'm always learning and relearning is to live in the moment. Soak up the tiny particles of the here and now because when they are over they are gone.

I remember a few days after Grace was born I wanted to hold her. She curled perfectly on my chest and I thought "Remember everything about this moment, because she'll get big before you know it." I still remember it. The way she rested so perfectly on my chest. Her slow and steady breathing, how my arms wrapped around her and held her, and how my lungs breathed in her new baby scent.

Now I am sitting in my living room. The TV screen is blue and a No Signal! sign is bouncing around declaring that I paused my movie and my energy saver DVD player turned off. I was watching "Letters to Juliet" my current favorite cheesy love story. My apartment smells like yeast and baking bread, Grace is quietly sleeping in her room, and the tumbler which held my DDP is now sitting empty on the coffee table. Something about this moment is so good. So calm. Sure I need to make my bed, do the dishes and call the maintenance guy to come and fix our slow-refilling toilet. But there will always be things like that on my To Do list. However, in this moment, I'm right here and right now and life is very very good.

Yes, those are bug bites on my foot, I got eaten alive in Virginia. Dang mosquitos.

The Last and Final Day

2011-07-11T21:16:00.001-05:00

With today being the last and final day of the photography challenge I figured that I would shed some light on the whole process. A behind the scenes look, if you will.

-The challenge started on June 1st, but I waited until the 7th to actually start participating. Why the wait? I was scared. Afraid that I would declare my participation, then not be able to take "cool enough" pictures, get frustrated, and ultimately give up. I took the plunge anyways.

-The challenge didn't require each picture to have a particular thought or meaning, but I liked trying to incorporate a picture and a thought into each blog post. It was hard, sometimes, to think of something creative or tie it into something else that was going on. There were lots of times that I would take a picture and my fingers would hover over the keyboard while I waited for some sort of inspiration. Some days were better than others.

-Speaking of which, it was really hard to blog on the weekends. If you look back you'll notice some of the lamest thoughts/pictures came on Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays. With Aaron being home the last thing I wanted to do was lock myself in my room and blog.

-Taking a picture everyday forced me to learn more about my camera. I learned the good spots for lighting, the best time of day to take pictures, and that sometimes you have to take 200 pictures just to get one good shot. People were even nice enough to give me tips and tricks along the way. My sister taught me all about metering and the manual setting, and I am a changed woman.

-Okay, so I didn't technically take a picture everyday. Some pictures I took on different days. For example, I knew the "Something Blue" day was coming up so I used a picture from a few days earlier. Or I forgot to take a picture with good lighting but had a viable option on hand. It made the whole process more doable.

-All in all I had a lot of fun participating in the challenge. I liked trying to find meaning in something small during the day, I liked having a topic to blog about each day, and I liked stretching and going outside my comfort zone with certain types of pictures.

-I'm sad that it's over, but grateful at the same time. It's nice to have a specific purpose for something each day, but it's also nice to not be tied down to something.

-Finally, it's on to the last picture. I'm breaking all sorts of rules with this one. First off, it's not a self portrait, it was taken by my incredibly talented sister Ashby. And second, I'm not the only one in the picture. However, with all of that said, I think this picture says more about who I am than any other picture. I absolutely love it.

Day 30: Self-portrait.

A Zebra Is

2011-07-08T15:45:00.000-05:00

Okay, fine, I admit it, it's really hard to blog whilst on vacation. Part of me thought I could totally pull it off, and the other part thought I was crazy for trying. Obviously the lazy won over the crazy. There were too many games, too many rounds of pictionary, too many "Newlywed Game" questions that I wanted to answer and participate in that caused me to completely forget to blog. I dipped cookies in milk, snuck extra m&m's and ate mud pie until I had a stomach ache and during those evening moments blogging was so far from my mind and I just let it slide. I don't even find blogging a chore, but when games and cookies are involved, my brain can't focus on anything else.

Day 29: Black and White

Bloom Where You're Planted

2011-07-04T22:47:00.000-05:00

Today, I ran while on vacation. (I, too, was shocked by this)

I learned that my girl is fearless in the ocean.

I saw every member of my family participate in a limbo contest (props to Ashley, our winner).

I heard thunder crash all evening long.

I realized that despite a re-donk-ulous downpour, people will still have a fireworks show.

And I smiled, because today was a little slice of heaven.

These count as flowers, right? Close enough.

Day 26: Flowers

Ain't No Sunshine

2011-07-03T22:12:00.000-05:00

This morning didn't look promising as the rain dropped and the grey clouds rolled in. But with fingers tightly crossed and little prayers being said the sun made it's debut before lunch. It was gorgeous for the rest of the day. Feel free to be jealous of the killer view we currently have.

Day 26: From a Distance

Up Close and Personal

2011-07-03T21:51:00.000-05:00

**Due to location differences, I experienced some technical difficulties preventing me from posting yesterday. It was ridiculously lame.

Nothing says "up close and personal" like a 5 hour car ride with your sisters, your daughter, and your niece. Did I say 5 hours? I meant 8. Traffic, not the best. We all caravanned down to the beach 4 cars, 12 adults, 4 kids, 1 toddler, and a wee babe.

There was a big helping of car sickness and the little ones touching you constantly with their feet, but we had a blast laughing, talking, singing at the top of our lungs, and of course eating at chick-fil-a, twice. Beach Week 2011 was kicked off in style.

And should I mention that I got to stare at this gorgeous face for the first leg of the trip? Love this Lily.

Day 25: Close-up

Survival of the Fittest

2011-07-01T20:45:00.000-05:00

How to survive a 3 hour plane trip with a 22 month old:

-Crayons

-Stickers

-Coloring book

-Books

-More snacks than you ever thought possible

-DVD Player

-Dora and Kuzco

-Sippies

-Mookies

-Blanket

and most importantly

-A husband that will sit, play, corral, and take care of said toddler so you can calmly sit and read your kindle while eating a copious amount of trail mix.

Day 25: Something Pink

Husband of the Year? Mos' Def'.

And yes, I really like this pink shirt.

Birds of a Feather

2011-07-01T01:39:00.000-05:00

Let's get real for a second. I totally had to type into google "Are birds animals?"All of my biology classes have failed me. That, or I have failed all of my biology teachers. Sorry guys.

Day 24: Animal

This is my favorite picture yet. Love these little birds.

Oscar the Grouch likes Sweet Pork

2011-06-29T14:07:00.001-05:00

I woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. Grouchy to the max? You bet. I think it had something to do with my blog post last night. I spent hours writing and tweaking a post that I was straight passionate about. The words seamlessly flowed from my brain to the keys on my keyboard and although I was nervous about writing something so near and dear to my heart, I was excited at the same time. I was finally getting to the main point I wanted to make when something in my brain stopped. There were no more words, just a big wall. I attempted to power through and every word I wrote down felt forced, and well, totally lame. I didn't want to give up.

Aaron could sense my frustration and said "I think you need to take a break from the blog for a little. It's just making you mad." I told him it wasn't the blog making me mad, or even that I was blogging everyday, but the fact that I couldn't get what was in my head out of my head. Still with me?

So I deleted every passionate word I had written, started from scratch, and didn't say anything. It made me mad and I pouted big time. I guess it carried over into this morning, and even after a good night's rest I still don't have the right words to finish that thought. But, onwards and upwards.

Yesterday as Grace and I were playing and doodling, that song came on my iPod again. The one that made me bust a move. As it blared through the speakers, Grace couldn't help herself.

Spins, shimmies, twirls. She was all over it. I couldn't help but laugh at the fact that not only do she and I like the same music, but she gets the rhythm, feels the beat, and sways with the tempo.

It's fascinating to see your child display tendencies and characteristics that you know they got from you. Aaron, unfortunately, can't keep a beat and he doesn't like to dance. The only time he stepped foot on the dance floor at our wedding reception was during our first dance. He peaced-out moments later and made his way around the food table while the rest of us danced.

Right now I'm sipping on DDP from CFA. My cure-all of cure-alls for a bad day. I'm still in an Oscar the Grouch mood, but it will fade. I'll get over my bad self and maybe one day finish the thought that I started last night. For now I'll dwell on the good and the incredible of right here and right now. One of which is that fact that Costa Vida is in Texas. Although not as good as Cafe Rio, it's a million times better than going without. Aaron and I have included it in our Friday Night Eat Out rotation and my sister and I use any excuse we can to go there for lunch. Totally worth the 25 minute drive.

Day 23: Sunflare

Hands

2011-06-28T23:03:00.000-05:00

Day 22: Hands

Dance as if No One is Watching

2011-06-27T22:12:00.001-05:00

I could have gotten up this morning when my alarm went off at six. But I silenced the alarm, grabbed the covers all tight-like around my face and convinced myself that getting up would be a big mistake. Considering the fact that I was having an inner monologue about how waking up would effect the rest of my day should be proof enough that I was more than capable of getting out of bed to go running. But I didn't.

I dragged my feet the rest of the day, coming up with other things to do, or places to be. Everything fell nicely in my way "preventing" me from getting it done.

As Grace napped, and after I had looked at facebook, gmail, and google reader no less than 10,000 times, I dragged my feet into my room and changed into my gym clothes. A little at home strength training was my default. This time it wasn't something Justin Bieber could talk me into. I put my ear-buds in and scrolled through my music. Before I began my lunges, or squats, or whatever it was that I was going to do, a song came on and I got the itch to dance. Not regular dancing, no side steps with occasional snaps and twirls, but real intense I-am-one-with-the-rhythm kind of dancing. And I went with it. I flailed my arms and swung my hips and ran through my apartment like I was in the middle of a Music video airing on MTV. I felt like the Star Wars kid. Passionate, into it, and loving every second of it. I sang into the mirror, I bounced, high-kicked, and showed all of my imaginary fans that I still had it after all these years.

I felt so incredibly free. I owned every move and honestly thought I that I wouldn't be embarrassed even if someone walked in and saw me. It was that fun. And the best part? My heart was racing and the sweat was dripping. I got a workout and didn't even notice.

Day 21: Faceless Self-Portrait

Anyone in for a dance party at my place?