May I Introduce You?

Blog World, meet Baby Tree.

Baby Tree, meet Blog World.

This is our self-pollinating Yellow Delicious Apple Tree that we planted a few weeks ago, otherwise known as Baby Tree. A-Boy loves Baby Tree. He waters Baby Tree. He talks to him. He offers him bread to eat and is disappointed when Baby Tree does not take it. Baby Tree is a part of our family.

Not too far from Baby Tree is Baby Bush.

Baby Bush, meet Blog World.

Blog World, meet Baby Bush.

Baby Bush is a lilac shrub that was so cruelly ripped from the ground by two twentysomething punks who put in our fence. "We are finished with your fence ma'am and by the way we had to rip out a bush to get the door to open. Hope that is okay." Um, if it's not are you going to replace it? Didn't think so.

Baby Bush was relocated, and is getting a slow start this year. We don't judge him for it, since it is not really his fault. Baby Bush is loved as well. We peer at him from the upstairs windows. We include him in our prayers at night. Still, he never accepts the bread offering. Seems a little selfish, don't you think?

(please excuse the dirt clods and lack of mulching in Baby Bush's home. It is on our long list of to-do's for the back yard.)

Do You Know Where I Can Score Me Some Tiny Mice?

Ah, finally. A moment magically made just for blogging. Actually, it's only a magical moment made for blogging because I want it to be. I've got 4 loads of laundry to fold and a kitchen to clean. But, the kids are asleep so I'm gonna take advantage of the quiet.

I've been pretty busy as of late. I am not sure why I am so busy, exactly. Lots of Young Women meetings this week, so nights are out. Naptime has been spent doing Young Women things too. So maybe I DO know why I'm so busy. It's that new calling thing. So far I'm enjoying it, it's just cuts into my free time (read: blogging time) Hopefully things will slow down in the next week or so and I can go back to being a lazy cuss.

I told you in this post that I was excited to tell you about what I did last weekend. Are you ready? Are you sure? Because I built it up so nicely I'm sure you think it is something spectacufabulous and it probably is not. At least, not for you. It was for me.

This weekend I gardened. Well, I kind of gardened. I put some plants in pots. Does that count as gardening? I hope so because I SO want to be a gardener. It is my new favorite thing. I don't know very much about it though. I figure if I keep learning about it little by little soon by the end of my life I will be One with the Ways of the Earth. You think?

I learned some things this weekend though. The most important being that you should err on the side of caution when you are deciding how many flowers to buy. If not, the two pots you were planning to fill will multiply into this many:



You will then run out of pots and will have to resort to sticking them in the ground like this:

And yes, I realize that they don't look fabulous right now, but they will, my impatient friend. A little water, a little fertilizer, a little sun, a little time.

Also, I went to a local nursery to find out what I could put in my hanging baskets on my shady front porch. (shady in the way of not sunny, not shady in the way of drug dealers and pimps, just so we are clear) The Nursery Dude gave me lots of good ideas and even reminded me to bring the tender vines in if the weather drops below 40 degrees. Who knew? He also showed me "Tiny Mice", flowers that look like baby mouse heads. Of COURSE I had to get them. They were so cute and little!

I am so so so so excited to see the hanging baskets grow this year. They look so cute on my front porch, and they will look even cuter when they are a cascading bounty of foliage. I always buy the wrong kinds of flowers for the porch and they always die. But this year being my year and everything, that's not going to happen. (Sorry for the not-so-quality picture below. It's definitely not a closeup. I'll save the closeups for when the plants actually start growing.)

So I had a busy Saturday. I planted lots of things and made this lovely spray out of a couple wayward branches in my backyard. Purdy, eh? Smells good too.

So there you have it, my cute baskets and cute pots, my cute spray of fragrant blossoms. It's amazing that something so simple can make me so happy. I love to go sit on our back patio, surrounded by my 4,000 pots of marigolds and alyssum. It feels homey. And this year, I will keep them alive.

I, Emily, solemnly swear in front of my fellow bloggers and everyone else that I will take care of my container plants. I will fertilize. I will rotate. I will not skip a day of watering just because I don't feel like it. If it is really hot, I will even water them twice a day so the poor plants will not die on me like in years past. I will.

What are you smirking for? I WILL!

I'm Not Avoiding You.

I just have a lot going on right now and haven't had the time to sit down and blog all properlike. But I can't WAIT to show you what I did this weekend. You will be so impressed!

Here is a hint: My thumb? It has a greenish tinge to it.

Give me a couple of days to stop running around like a chicken.

Six Weird Things You May Not Know About Me

Alternative title: "Why I Am In Desperate Need of Therapy".

I was tagged by Sunny, a Desperate Housewife in need of a nap. I need one too Sunny. I stayed out way too late last night talking to friends, one of whom was Alicia, who made sure that I knew she was only 26, NOT 27 as I had previously thought. My mistake and my apologies, Alicia. But can you blame me for thinking you were older? After all, pre-plucking you did have four gray hairs.

Okay, on with the show. Six weird things about me.

---I hate the smell of maple syrup. It is okay while you are eating it, but that lingering syrup smell HAS to go. As soon as we finish eating I rush to wash all the dishes. (read: throw them in the dishwasher and turn it on) Aidan has had syrup maybe twice in his life, because I require that he bathes after he eats something with syrup so that he doesn't stink all day. This is a deep-seeded issue from my childhood. Growing up my mom made us pancakes for breakfast nearly every day. Sweet, eh? But in junior high someone told me that I always smelled like syrup and that was IT for me. From then on if we had pancakes I ate them with butter, cinnamon and sugar. No more syrup smell emanating from me! I know. I have issues.

---I wash my hands SEVERAL times every day. I wash them after going outside, even if it is just walking out on my front porch. If I touch an animal, I wash them. Actually, if I am AROUND an animal, not even touching it I have to wash my hands. My hands crack and bleed in the wintertime. I cannot keep lotion on them because I wash them so much.

---Every song is my favorite song. Okay, not EVERY song, but if I hear one that I really like I will tell Greg that it is my favorite. Actually, I have started saying ONE of my favorites because he cruelly mocks me about having so many. But there are so many good ones, how can I choose just one! That's like asking me to choose which one of my kids I like better. I can't answer that truthfully because really, it just depends on the day. (or time of day, haha)

---All the cans in our pantry have to be facing forward. Same with the fridge. I hate when Greg helps me put groceries away because I end up redoing it all and then he is bitter. It is a double standard because my pantry has to look perfect, but my computer desk looks like this:

Note the ignored "Inbox" on the shelf. This desk is where things go to die.

And, for dramatic effect, this is what Greg's computer desk looks like:

And he didn't just clean up. It always looks like this, right down to the diet soda can on the left. I do not know why I can't keep mine clean. I enjoy when it is clean. I feel better when it is clean. It's just a lot of work to actually keep it that way.

---I can go from zero to starving in .2 seconds. I will be a feeling fine, no hunger pains at all and then BAM. I'm dying of starvation. I feel weak and sick. I can no longer face the day until I have a little food in me and I have to replenish myself right then. If not I am as cranky as the day is long. And in the summer, the days are long. Greg LOVES this about me, especially when we are at a place where eating is not an option. (Like stuck on the freeway with nary a munchy)

---I rub my feet when I am relaxed. I either rub them together or rub them ON something, like the person next to me. My little brother refuses to watch movies with me for this very reason. Greg tolerates it because we are married and well, he has to. I rub them together so much in fact that I have worn through two pairs of nice sheets in the past year. Knowing that I would most likely be needing to buy sheets again soon since I have a "problem" I tried to buy a lesser expensive set last time. This will never happen again. The sheets are too big for the bed, they bunch up. And don't even get me started on the pilling. I feel like I am sleeping on a bed of cracker crumbs and gravel. I cannot justify buying another set though until this one is completely destroyed, so whenever I remember I do double-time on the feet-rubbing. Hopefully I will wear them out soon.

So there you go, 6 weird things. Hopefully you don't think I'm too big of a freak.

I wanna know what 6 weird things these people do.

My Big Seester. When do I get to see you next?

Lee, the EQ (Exercise Queen--I hear you can put us all to shame)

Zoe. Any Friend of Lei's is a Friend of Mine!

Taffi. Who couldn't love someone that was named Taffi!

This Blog is Brought to You Today by the Number Thirty Thousand

It seems I never have my camera with me when something memorable happens. I'm always kicking myself for not bringing it along. Luckily driving home from the Weekend of No Rest at the inlaw's house we did indeed have our camera. Greg was kind enough to put our very lives at risk to get this shot:

Can you tell what is so amazing? Nope, not the glowing airbag light, there to remind us that if we crash we will die at the hands of the steering wheel and front dash. Rest assured, we are getting it fixed on Wednesday. It is also not the fact that the cruise control is set at a steady 79 mph. Despite what my father-in-law says, I don't know anyone that has gotten a ticket for going 4 over the speed limit. Do you?

Okay, it is nearly impossible to see. I did a little cropping:

We hit 30,000 miles on our Pilot. Momentous. The kind of thing that makes you say, "Man, I sure wish I had my camera!" And lucky for us, this time we did. We wouldn't want the Pilot to feel like the redheaded stepchild of the family, no love and no pictures of the major milestones in her life.

And in case you are wondering, Greg didn't REALLY put us in jeopardy. Only sort of. I took a picture to prove that there were no cars around.

What a long, boring stretch of road. Isn't Idaho a thrill a minute? And aren't we just lucky to be experiencing 39 degree weather in the middle of April? That kind of excitement could lead to crazy, reckless behavior such as snapping pictures while driving 79 mph down the freeway.

And while we are on the subject of all things exciting, the same day that we hit 30,000 in our car, my blog got up to 3,000 hits. Not in one day of course, but total.

So thanks for checking in with me as much as you do. I have only been blogging for a couple of months but I LOVE it. I love to blog, I love to read your comments. It's definitely a bright spot in my day!

PS. Sorry that I had to turn on that pesky word verification. Hopefully that will eliminate the idiot spammers from posting their crud on my site. YOU HEAR THAT SPAMMERS? You suck.

I need a Vaycay from the Vaycay!

We are back! How was your weekend? Mine was good. Not restful, but good.

I don't know what it is about Greg's parent's house but the second we walk in the door we are both completely exhausted. Carbon monoxide leak, perhaps? I am not sure. All I know is that all of the sudden feel like I just finished Thanksgiving dinner and need to take a 3-hour nap.

Before we had kids this was our schedule:

Day 1
7 pm: Get to their house, bring our bags in and then go lounge on the couch for a good four hours, complaining the whole time about how tired we are.

11 pm: Drag our bums to bed.

Day 2
Around 9 or 10 am: Get up to eat breakfast, usually something waffley or pancakey with bacon.

10 or 10:30 am: Shower to get the syrup smell out. I loathe the syrup smell.

10:45 am: Claim we are both too exhausted to face the day and go back to bed.

Noon: Get up, possibly go out shopping at the very very sad "mall" in their town. Maybe catch a movie at the "The Urine Theater". And no, it's not just a clever nickname.

2 pm: Come back to the house, eat a lot of potato chips and dip, cookies, Cheetos, Doritos, cake, donuts and candy (especially of the chocolate variety). If it is bad for you, it is eaten.

2:30 pm: Claim we are too bloated and tired to move and go back to bed.

4 pm: Get up to see what the plans are for dinner and if we can help. See that everything is covered. Retreat to the couch for more vegging.

5 pm: Eat a spectacular dinner made for 47 even though there are only 8 of us.

5:45 pm: Once again lounge on the couch

8 pm: Return to the kitchen for some type of sinful dessert. Play board games until we are no longer able to keep our eyes open.

10 pm: Plop, plop, fizz, fizz. Have some Alka Seltzer to combat the 14 pounds of cheesecake now sitting in our guts.

10:15 pm: Go to bed.

Each day that we are there is repeated with only slight variation.


Doesn't that sound delightful? Lots of sleeping, lots of eating. No responsibilities. A real break from real life.

Bringing children to Grandma and Grandpa's has certainly thrown a wrench into our plans. (or lack of plans) We can no longer lounge and sleep in as long as we want. Instead we are:

Changing diapers
Dressing them
Undressing them
Bathing them
Nursing them
Preparing food for them
Feeding them (also involves trying to talk A-boy into eating something besides marshmallows and Cheetos)
Cleaning them up
Cleaning up the 10 foot radius that food was thrown in
Removing them from pounding on the piano
Bringing out toys
Cleaning up toys

Making sure that their cousins aren't mauling them. (sometimes they love them a little bit too much)

Putting them down for naps

Re-putting them down for naps

Re-RE-putting them down for naps

Taking them outside

Running A-boy all over the hillside
Making sure A-boy doesn't jump in the pond
Ignoring Tantrums
Playing with them
Reading to them
Putting them to bed
Waking up with them 4+ times in the middle of the night
Trying to calm them from being hysterical in the middle of the night because we are somewhere different
Getting up with them at the buttcrack of dawn (5 am and 6 am)


So yeah. Things have changed a bit over the last two years, except for the eating part. We still eat like we are about to gnaw off our own feet due to hunger. What was once a fun, relaxing vacation has now turned into stress. Last night I snapped at Greg. I snapped at my sister-in-law who was politely trying to help. I snapped at my mother-in-law, raised my voice even. At that point I decided that it might be best if I just headed on down to bed before I started throwing sharp objects at people. So I did and Greg handled the screaming baby.

All in all though, it was a good trip, just not relaxing. We did a lot of Easter-y things like dying eggs and easter baskets and egg hunting . (and when this family does egg hunting, they DO EGG HUNTING. Clipboards and prize categories are involved--that is the level we are dealing with here) We had ham. We went to church. (well, some of us did) It was nice to spend time with The Fam. My mom even came for part of the weekend. It was nice.

It is good to be home though. And now I need a vacation from our vacation. I'm told that won't happen for YEARS if it even happens at all. Oh well. No one ever said that being a parent would be wonderful every minute of every day.

In A Perfect World There Would Be Singing All The Time.

There really would. Like a musical. Or the Wonderpets. "The Phone. The Phone is ringing. The Phooooone!!!!! We'll be right there! There's an animal in trouble. There's an animal in trouble!....."

Ahem. Sorry. That song really gets stuck in my head. I hated that show at first. But now? Love it. How cute is the singing? LOVE it.

Okay, back to my original thought. Singing. We should do it more. My younger siblings used to sing with me all the time. I would say, "Heeeeello Aaaaandyyyyyy (or Samaaaannnntha)...How are you doooing??" in song and one of them would return with, "Hey Sister Emaleee! I'm goooood! And YOOOOOOU????" We would drive everyone crazy. It was awesome.

We haven't done it for a while now. Mostly because my brother is in South Africa on a mission and my little sister is busy not feeding bald eagles in Alaska. (it is against the law, you know.) Also because we are semi-grown up. When they comes back though I am SO going to sing with them. Even if they don't want to. It will be a Sing Along Extravaganza. We may even choreograph. I can't wait.

We do a lot of singing at our house. It is rare that someone is NOT singing, actually. We have songs for specific things. We sing the Blue's Clues "Mail" song when we go to the mailbox. When it rains we sing "Rain Is Falling". We sing made up songs, like the "Leaving the House" song.

Leaving the House song (to the tune of The Farmer in the Dell. Don't ask me why the Farmer is in a computer, let alone a DELL. I have no idea.)

"We're going on a trip,
We're going on a trip!
A-boy smiles just for Mom
We're going on a trip!"

I could not have been more proud the first time I told A-boy that we needed to get ready to leave and he belted out, "Going on a Trit! Going on a Trit!..." Aww. How sweet is that?

My boys each have their own song that I sing to them numerous times a day. I made them up when they were tiny, during long and arduous nursing sessions.

A-boy's Song (To the tune of the Oscar Meyer B-O-L-O-G-N-A song)

My Baby has a first name
It's (spell out his first name)
My Baby has a second name
It's (our last name)

He smiles and takes your blues away
And that is why I'm here to SAY...
You can look for babies night and day
And not find one like A-boy Ray.

Perhaps a bit cheesy, but A-Boy loves his song. Mini-Man has a song too.

Mini-Man's song (to the chorus of Jingle Bells)

Mini Man! Mini Man!
You're my favorite guy!
Don't you know I love you so
There's lots of reasons why!

Mini Man! Mini Man!
Your smile is Oh So Bright!
But one thing I would like to know--
WHEN WILL YOU SLEEP AT NIGHT?

I sing this song to Mini-Man often. He smirks at that last line. Maybe I should quit asking him so he thinks I don't care. A little reverse psychology.

My parents both love music and listened to all kinds when I was growing up. It was rare that the stereo wasn't on. Some of my favorite memories are being in the car with my family, singing our hearts out on a road trip. We would even choose parts so we could harmonize. (California Dreamin', anyone? I played a mean air flute.) I remember my dad playing the guitar on Christmas eve, while my mom sang "Blue Bayou". And you couldn't forget "Little Bunny Foo Foo". That was a family tradition! Not too Christmasey, but still a tradition.

My parents instilled their love for all kinds of music in me. Music is a huge part of my life, the stereo is always on at my house too. Hopefully my kids will learn to love all kinds, just like I do. I could only be that lucky.

And just so you are aware, even though I sing all of the time, my voice is not at all spectacular. You don't have to sound wonderful to sing. You just have to have the enthusiasm. At least that's what I keep telling myself. Viva la musica! (or something like that...I haven't spoken Spanish since high school.)

On a sidenote, I will be gone to the inlaws from Thursday to Sunday. No blogging for me, not that I won't be pining for it. I shall return with a dazzling tale about something, I am sure. So tune in on Monday.

Also, my Big Sister Lori has jumped on the Blogging Train. Check it out here. Tell her Em sent ya. Also give her a hard time for having posters of Kirk Cameron on her wall when we were younger. Hot-tay! (I wasn't going to post the pic, but I HAD to. Check out his mustard-and-ketchup outfit! Woot Woo!)

Happy Easter everyone! Have a spectacufabulous weekend! (Yes, I made up that word. Join the craze and start using it.)

I Have a Hangover and I Don't Even Drink.

So it is Monday night but I am still thinking about the weekend. Probably because I am wishing that it still WAS the weekend. I hate Mondays. Mondays = Real Life and a Really Messy House because I have spent the whole weekend avoiding any type of housework. That's just how I roll. But weekends? They are wonderful. Greg is home, we do fun things. The house gets trashed, but we enjoy ignoring that fact until Monday morning.

If we were grading on a scale of 1-10, 10 being the greatest day ever and 1 being the suckiest day ever, I would have to rate Friday as a 9.5 and Sunday evening as a 3. (2 being reserved for blood and carnage and/or a trip to the ER) Our weekend started out amazingly and ended less so.

Friday night Greg's sisters came to babysit the kids so we could go out on a hot date. It was the first time we attempted dinner AND a movie since way before Mini-Man was born. We did dinner and ate until we were actually incapable of lifting another forkful into our mouths, then attempted to walk it off at a local furniture store. Afterwards I made him go see Failure to Launch with me. I already saw it once and thought it was funny enough to see again. (It was) He was not as impressed. Probably because he doesn't think Matthew McConaughey is the hottest thing ever. He is though, well, except for my dear husband. After the movie we decided that gorging ourselves ONCE during the evening just wasn't enough, so off we went to a restaurant for dessert. I finally got the cheesecake I have been craving. It was a lovely, perfect evening. No kids climbing over us, no one screeching in my ear, no diapers to change. Nice conversation and excellent company. I did not want to go home. I did not want the night to end.

But, it did.

Saturday we were busy busy busy working in the yard. We pulled out trees, including The Weed. (Which, coincidentally, Greg now refers to as Satan's Weed, since he spent a good two hours trying to get it out of the ground.) We fertilized, planted, weeded, watered. We ran to SIX different stores during the day. Yup, six. We were very tired when the day ended. It was a good day though. One of those days where you feel like you accomplished something.

Sunday was going to be a good day. We were making record time getting ready for church. A-boy kept reaching out for me and making this sound with an extremely whiny voice, "eh he he. eh he he." I told him to quit whining and go wait for Daddy to dress him. All the sudden Greg yells for me. I run in there and Aidan has puked curdled Strawberry Quik all over our bedroom carpet. My first thought: So I guess there was a reason for his whining. My second thought: I am so friggin' glad we have a steam cleaner! This will sure be handy! (and I was right. It was!)

We decided it would probably be best for A-boy to stay home from church, so Greg volunteered to stay with both boys since I had do the Primary Music one last time. When I got home A-boy was acting okay, but still a little clingy. He took a long nap and we chalked his sickness up to being too excited too early in the morning. He is usually parked in front of Nickelodeon at 8 am, not getting dressed and certainly not eating breakfast. Too much action for the kid! (or so we thought)

Greg's sister Elaine invited us over for dinner Sunday night and since A-boy was acting fine we decided it would be okay. I kept thinking it was a bad idea but I wanted to see the fam so off we went. Elaine had a lovely meal prepared for us and was holding A-boy whilst putting the food on the table. He took one look at a bowl of Jello and tossed his cookies all over his unsuspecting aunt, all over himself, all over the table and IN one of the bowls of Jello. Good shot, Red 2!

Dinner was postponed while we did a little cleaning up. Greg and I took turns holding Aidan on the couch while the other one sat at the table and tried to eat. It's hard to eat after dealing with barf. You can smell it and taste it on everything. I finally gave up. We felt bad for ruining her dinner. It was probably very good, just not after the pukefest.

Luckily he hasn't puked since then. But, all day today he has been doing that thing where he cries for me to hold him, then I do and he cries because he doesn't want to be held. He moves away from me and shoves me with his feet. So I move away from him and he cries because he doesn't WANT me to leave or move, he just wants me to sit there. Probably so he can abuse me with his feet. I'm sure in his two year old gibberish he is calling me names.

And since he was feeling a bit better I thought he might enjoy some soup. (or soot as he calls it) I made him some Wyler's Mrs. Grass Noodle Soup. He wanted to feed himself, so I let him. I should have also paid attention, but I decided instead to make a casserole so I could stick it in the fridge, saving me from the 4:45 pm stress of "Crap, what's for dinner?!?!"

When I go back over to the table, this is what I see:

Those are noodles, if you can't tell. And when I moved the soup mug away from him, he tossed the noodles on the floor.

Apparently he is not old enough to be trusted alone with a bowl of soup. Duh. Do I NOT know my own child? One good thing came out of it though. It gave me motivation to mop my very sticky and disgusting kitchen floor! So....thanks? Hmm.

And don't be thinking that Mini-Man was sitting there all cute an innocent the whole time. Nope. He was wailing like a banshee. Which, if you didn't know, is a wailing female spirit and NOT a mountain goat-like animal.

And because once again I don't want Mini-Man to be left out:

He really enjoys climbing underneath beds. See the latter part of this post for another exciting under-the-bed pic.

Here's hoping that the rest of this week goes by fast!

Five Things I Have Learned This Week

---I am not ready for A-boy to give up naptime. Yesterday he didn't take a nap. I put him down for one as usual and he spent TWO hours in his room, on his bed, just talking to himself and yelling, "MOOOOOMM" every 10 minutes or so. At least he wasn't screaming or trying to get out. I am not sure if this is because of the newfound freedom he has with his new bed or what the deal is. Hopefully this will not happen again. I SO need the hours between 1pm and 3pm to myself. When else would I have time to spend mind-numbing hours on the internet? (Besides after bedtime...)

---All good things must come to an end. And that is why I am not longer the Junior Primary Chorister. I am glad, I am burnt out. But I am sad too. I will miss the kids! They are all so wonderful. I am not a good singer by any means, but they still liked me. The teachers probably think I am a little nutso for making a fool of myself in front of everyone for nearly two years but that's okay. The kids laughed and hopefully learned a little bit in the process. That's what is important.

I got to love all the kids, but some I got to know a little better than others. Little Bethany brought a picture she colored for me during Sacrament Meeting. She was so proud of it! Jake waves at me in the hall and tugs on my skirt each week until I ask him how he is and give him a hug. He went home a couple weeks ago and asked his mom if I could come over for dinner. His mom says he has a crush on me. That's right. A five year old boy has a CRUSH on ME! I am so flattered. Alexis asked her mom if they could bring treats to me for FHE. They all give me shy waves when they see me at the grocery store and they tell their moms, "Look! There is my teacher!" I was always so proud.

I have been ready to start a new calling for a while now, but I didn't realize how sad I would be to leave. Hopefully they won't stop saying "hi" to me. That will make me so sad!

---I have a new calling! I am the secretary in the Young Women's Organization. I'm pretty excited! I love being in Young Women's. Not only do I get to hang out with people who like to listen to the same music as I do, but I will have the "in" on who the good babysitters are. That is always a good thing.

---You should never call in to the radio station if you don't know what you are trying to win. However if I DO win, we will probably go. I've never been to Phoenix. And the Arizona gals tell me that it is like, 85 degrees right now. I could handle that! I'm tired of wearing a jacket and being cold. (Stay tuned...I'm sure I'll be eating my words in July.)

---I cannot resist Old Navy's 2 for $10 sale. I bought 9 shirts, mostly v-neck tees, with the promise of returning at least three. (I know. I have a problem.) I am trying to branch out so I bought bright colors, even teal and orangey pink. AND I bought something that has stripes. That may not be that big of deal to some people, but for me, it's HUGE. Colors in my closet consist of black, dark blue, light blue and white. I promised Greg I would return the light and dark blue tees that I bought for comfort. I'm stepping out of my comfort zone, people! I wore the orangey-pink shirt yesterday. I felt a little self concious wearing such a bright color since I am so shy and all, but it wasn't too bad. Maybe this can work.


So there you go! Hope you have a fantabulous weekend with lots of sunshine!

Wow, So Unexpected.

So tomorrow the new Rascal Flatts cd comes out. Are you all as excited as I am? I have been waiting for it since seeing them in concert in November. I love their music. Every one of their cds rock.

Our local radio station advertised all last week that today you could "Win Rascal Flatts Before You Can Buy It". Sweet. I was totally going to listen and win. I remembered to turn the radio on as soon as I got out of bed this morning.

So I'm chatting with Greg about something and not really paying attention when I hear Radio Dude say, "Caller 15 wins the prize". I get all excited and started dialing, then redialing. I get through on the second try! I won! The following is our conversation:

Radio Dude: Hi! Who is this?

Me: Emily!

Radio Dude: Well, congratulations! You are the fifteenth caller!

Me: Yay!!!!!!

Radio Dude: Emily, are you a NASCAR Fan?

*pause*

Me: Um..............yeah. (TOTAL LIE)

Radio Dude: Great! You just got entered to win our grand prize trip to beautiful Phoenix, Arizona for the NASCAR Blah Blah Blah! (I didn't hear anything after NASCAR)

*pause*

Me: Fantastic! (TOTAL LIE)

Radio Dude: You've also won a footlong sub from Subway Sandwiches!

Me: Great! (Still trying to process the information)

At this point it is not on the air yet. Greg is grinning at me from ear to ear. He still doesn't realize that I haven't won my highly-desired Rascal Flatts cd. I give him sad, defeated eyes.

I hang up the phone. Greg congratulates me and I tell him that he is going to laugh SOOO hard when he hears what I actually won. He isn't into NASCAR either and I just KNOW he is going to make fun of me for the rest of my life for this. I ask him what is the ONE thing we love to make fun of. He goes through a long list, mentioning Shania Twain two times (We REALLY enjoy making fun of her). He does not, however guess NASCAR.

My little convo with Radio Dude finally comes on the air. Greg hears the word NASCAR and busts up laughing. He didn't stop all morning long.

Since I was in a state of shock, I wasn't really listening to Radio Dude when he told me all about what I could win. I checked it out online this afternoon. Turns out the grand prize is two airline tickets to Phoenix, Deluxe Hotel Accomodations (whatever that means) $92 cash per person, two tickets to TWO NASCAR races plus pit passes for both races.

The website also says, "Country Music and NASCAR go together like Tim and Faith!" Um, this is why country music has a bad reputation. It is married to NASCAR. Tim and Faith I like. NASCAR? Not so much. And besides that, I don't think that is a good analogy. NASCAR can't be married to NASCAR when it is the Ugly Stepchild of country music. Or can it? *insert inbreeding joke here*

If I win the grand prize I am not sure what I will do. I could give the tickets to Greg's sister and her husband. They actually LIKE NASCAR, for whatever reason. They aren't even rednecks! They DID just get back from a big NASCAR thingy in Vegas though, so maybe they are NASCARed out. I could give them to someone who would love to go who otherwise wouldn't be able to. (but I don't really know any huge NASCAR fans, do you?) I could auction them off. Greg and I could actually GO. If we do, I am definitely buying the shirt at the right. I'm sure we wouldn't get beat up or anything.

So yes. It is Monday and I have already learned a lesson. Don't call into the radio station when you don't know what you are trying to win. And if you DO, ask if you can have a Rascal Flatts cd anyway. I didn't and wished that I did. Now I have to go shell out the kizash. Oh, well.

Anyone like NASCAR?

To My Oldest Baby

Dear A-Boy,

Tonight as I got you ready for bed I thought about how much I love you. You picked out your jammies, cause your old enough now. We brushed your teeth and you kept biting the toothbrush and laughing. I let you pick out which books to read and you curled up on my lap in anticipation.

Every time I read with you I am astounded at how smart you are. You know so much more than I realize. And even though you are just over 2 years old you have a great sense of humor. You are always teasing me and tickling me. You always remember to tell me that you love me. If anyone looks sad you make sure to ask if they are okay and give them big hugs and kisses.

After reading we said prayers. You kept trying to touch my lips as I thanked Heavenly Father for you. It made me laugh, and it made me grateful.

There was a time when we weren't sure that you were going to make it. Not a day goes by that I don't thank Heavenly Father for allowing you to be here with us. You are my Sunshine, My Baby. And I love you more every single day.

I know I could be a better mom to you. I will try harder. Please don't grow up too fast.

Love,
Mom