A Part of Me Has Died

Or been traded in, but I am partial to the dramatic perspective in my pregnant emotional state.

After a decade together, my 12 year old car and I parted ways, suddenly, but expectedly. Are you ever really prepared for defining moments like that?

As I’m writing this, I’m realizing this is how hoarding happens.

Still, this is the car that was with me when I really “grew up.” It drove me around with my crazy friends in college, with someone always hanging out the windows. It drove my roommates through the drive through at 1 or 2 AM, picking up a snack through the sunroof. It took me on dates, road trips, and to cosmetology school. It drove me to hang out with “this guy Brian.” It had the steering wheel my hours-old engagement ring glistened on. I reserved my wedding date over the phone while in the front seat, completely giddy. It even took home my first baby from the hospital.

May car’s name was Fifi.

I cried watching my car drive away for the last time, tape deck and all. That was the fun part of me, leaving. Now, I have a beautiful, larger car, catering to a mom’s needs. But is a mom fun? This car is less, “Oh hey girl. Let’s blast TI and throw pickles at pedestrians!” and more like, “Hello! Can’t wait to fit a double stroller in my trunk and have ketchup packs smashed between my seats while I drive you to MMR vaccination appointments!”

VOGUE BABY 008

When I first got my car, and my friends and I thought we looked really good, but we really didn't. That was the theme of my freshman year, actually.
When I first got my car, and my friends and I thought we looked really good, but we really didn’t. That was the theme of my freshman year, actually.

Fifi and I matured together to the point that I was able to stop being embarrassing and drive my best buddy around.
Fifi and I matured together to the point that I was able to stop being embarrassing and drive my best buddy around.

Aside from being the catalyst for my identity crisis, I’m so thankful have let Fifi go for a newer, safer car I’d been hoping for for years. Gus especially appreciates the rear air conditioning.

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The Imaginary Uncle Keaton Returns!

My brother, Keaton, just got home from his 2 year LDS mission in the Frankfurt, Germany area! We are so thrilled to have him back home in Las Vegas for anther month before he leaves to school.

We have spent about a year preparing Gus for this moment, and the day my son could finally meet my super fun, sweet brother was highly anticipated in my eyes. The day of Keaton’s arrival, Gus had a look of recognition in his eyes when we talked about Uncle Keatty. He proudly responded with, “Heeeere kitty kitty kitty!” There was a lot of chatter about kitty kitties all day.

We waited at the airport with our signs, walking back and forth from escalator to escalator with all the limo drivers, waiting to recognize a familiar face in a suit. Chasing a little guy around a busy baggage claim, up escalators, and out of liquor stores (why are there so many balloons in there?) made the time go a whole lot…slower.

Most our photos.
Most our photos.
Wait, no, this is most of our photos.
Wait, no, these are most of our photos.

IMG_0009
Waiting...
Waiting…
...and waiting...
…and waiting…

The guy we were looking for in a suit turned out to be a guy in lederhosen. There are no words to explain how your heart feels hugging someone you love after two years!

(Immediate Facetime with our brother in California.)
(Immediate Facetime with our brother in California.)

Even after hyping up Uncle Keaton, Keaton’s airport arrival didn’t hold a candle to the slot machines and luggage carousals. If only he had been a cat. What a let down.

Still, I think they’ll be buddies.
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The Wabid Wabbit, and Learning How to Easter Bunny

Gus’s Nana took him to an egg hunt at a church party while Brian and I were out of town the other weekend, and luckily, the Easter bunny showed up so G could take his first bunny picture. By luckily, I meant horrifically. Is this bunny for real? Reportedly, Gus thought maybe it was a dog and didn’t mind.

 “And this, son, is who is going to come to our house in the night!”

“And this, son, is who is going to come to our house in the night!”

I had every intention of making this Easter extra special for my baby bunny, but, as usual, we set the bar pretty low for next year. A combination of working, major family events, traveling, and pregnancy allowed the spring season to sneak up on me, and I responded like a fainting goat.

All of the sudden, I’m at Target the night before Easter, in a near empty candy isle. Only a few Frozen Easter baskets and a stray giant Olaf were to be found. So, Gus got some jellybeans, and Goldfish Crackers. One-two per plastic egg.

He cared more about opening the eggs than what was inside, so this one bean was thrilling.
He cared more about opening the eggs than what was inside, so this one bean was thrilling.

Fortunately, Gus had a few surprises from Amazon in the mail. One of those was a plastic car. Several neighbor kids roll up to the park in the same type, and boy, is G impressed. Brian put it together the night before, and I knew how this would go, because I have a dad.
Brian started his project around 10, with, “This won’t take long.”IMG_4928
Then there was some hammering, other tools, lost pieces, and a part that didn’t fit. Around 11:30, my construction savvy husband said, “Man, this thing is intense!”
Brian came to bed sometime after midnight, but Gus was so happy to wake up to his very own car in the morning! Except:IMG_4958

Handyman Daddy was on call all day.

Aside from church, we didn’t have plans. I love it that way. We got to focus a little more on the resurrection of Christ (and G napping), didn’t have distractions, and I enjoyed being wrapped up in my little family. I absolutely adore my job as a mom. I’m thankful for a slow, lazy day that allowed me undistracted time to feel, not just hear about, but really FEEL, the blessings of Christ’s atonement.

Even if my family has a lame Easter bunny in the years to come, I hope I can establish one tradition–keep Easter Sunday as slow and unscheduled as possible.

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You’re Not a Real Couple Until You Have This Argument

Brian and I have a quite peaceful relationship, mostly due to Brian’s seemingly unlimited patience, laid back personality, and patience, and more patience. The one question that is the catalyst for a rough evening is: “Where do you want to eat?”

The script is consistent:
“Where do you want to eat for dinner?”
“I don’t care. Whatever. Where do you want to go?”
“It doesn’t matter. You choose.”
“I really don’t care, so you can pick wherever you want.”
(Repeat 7 times, with added annoyance the seventh time.)
“Seriously. I just want you to decide! I don’t even care.”
“You never care! That’s the problem! I wish you just cared!”
“Fine. Taco Bell.”
“Are you serious? Not Taco Bell.”
“You just said you don’t care, so you can’t tell me no!”
“You know that’s not what I meant! Anywhere else!”
“I thought you meant you didn’t care! So you DO care! Just decide!!”

End script. At this point, your dinner is already ruined until the emotions and hanger are drowned in appetizers at a place neither of you really love.

Until you can relate to this, your relationship has no validation in my soul.

Luckily, the efforts of finding a babysitter completely chainsaw this argument, because as a responsible parent, you will know where you are going prior to making childcare arrangements.

Lately, we have had some fun, pre-planned evenings out, but my favorite of March 2015 was going out for my friend, Sarah, to celebrate her birthday. Her birthday request? Dress like princesses and go to Cinderella with our husbands. I’m a little portly for most of my princess-like dresses, so I wore some sequins, and Brian wore a suit. We showed up to dinner, and Sarah was full on in her wedding dress. Watching Cinderella in your wedding dress?! Yes. Dreamy. I am honored to be her friend.

Just in the casino's theater.
Just in the casino’s theater.

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