not taking no for an answer

When your husband plans a Valentines weekend away, and you drive 8 hours to drop the kids off with the Grandparents, and it's your first time alone as a couple in 3 years...

Ain't NOTHING...

and I mean NOTHING is going to stand in your way!

Not a blizzard

Not a stern, grumpy highway patrolman

Not a jackknifed semi truck

Not chain requirements

Not a shut-down of a major interstate

NOTHING, I say!

We were not taking NO for an answer.

And so the story goes:

7:45 am

Couple left children in Sacramento with a kiss and hug.  Hopped in car for a weekend of kidless romance.

8:30 am

Couple was guided off the freeway at Applegate to install winter snow chains.  No problem.

8:45 am

In the 15 minutes it took male counterpart to install chains, there had been an accident and the freeway had been closed.  completely closed.  oh *&#@!  (that stands for schnikees)  This can't be happening.

9:00 am

Couple decides to forge ahead and finds a narrow, hilly side road that leads to another freeway onramp 10 miles ahead.  Couple sees no sign of CHP blocking entrance, so they enter.  Only ones on the road.

"Sweet" they thought, "We totally bucked the system"

9:45 am

Oh $*#@!^.  Stopped again.  Politely guided off the freeway by officials.  Wait...there's got to be another way.  Couple asked locals for some tips and were guided to a treacherous old highway not recommended for travel.  It was worth the risk.  (think no kids, romance, hot tubs, skiing)

10:15 am

Found another onramp clear for entrance.  Couple tried again.  Only ones on the road.

Could this be it?  "Are we free" they thought.

Oh *#@^@!*.  Once again, they were escorted off the Interstate.

10:20

This time a bit deflated.  Not sure what to do.  The couple sat and thought.  This can't be the end of the road.  Wait!  Is that the burgundy suburban they'd been following the entire time?  Follow him!  And they did.  Once again on side roads.  And once again to another open freeway onramp.  This time it was for good.

Free and Clear!  They'd made it.

10:30

UNTIL....CLINK, CLANK, BANG, KABOOM!

Oh, &#^@*!

Chain malfunction.  Male counterpart gets out to assess the situation. 

 Female counterpart turns heat up full blast to warm face and fingers.

Problem remedied.

10:45

CLINK, CLANK, BANG, KABOOM!

What now?

More chain malfunction.

Fixed.

11:00 am

CLINK, CLANK, BANG, KABOOM!

Seriously?

Yup.

11:15 am

You guessed it.

CLINK, CLANK, BANG, KABOOM!

%@*!^@*

11:45 am

Couple arrived at Squaw Valley.  Couple called CalTrans Freeway Hotline.  Traffic was still being held at Applegate.  Freeway closed.

VICTORY!

System Bucked!

And the reward was this:

Thank you, honey.  You really outdid yourself!

Thank you, mom and dad.  The kids were so well cared for.

Thank you, Chantel and Carl for the snow gear.

what she's been up to.

cooing

laughing

taking body slams from brother

eating adult food

getting two more top teeth

napping two (sometimes 3) times a day

growing a mullet

walking with her nifty walker

sleeping through the night

climbing 

coming down the stairs

falling down the stairs

clapping

signing "please" and "more"

taking off shirts

biting her crib rail

loving bathtime

getting giddy when dad comes home

bee-bopping to music

AND

helping me with my chores!

You are an absolute DELIGHT lucy!

bear with me on this one.

The events of yesterday got me thinking.

Thinking about the folks down in Colorado City, AZ.  And how maybe, just maybe, they are actually on to something good.

You see, yesterday Troy and I cooked and cooked.  A little of this and a little of that so that we could enjoy the company of friends and the comfort of good food.  

We made big messes.  

Messes that the men were clearly having NO part in.  Messes that stared you in the face screaming "clean me" while your full stomach was begging, "let me rest".

Now enter girlfriends.

They came to the rescue.  Within 15 minutes, three of us had the job done.  Floors swept, food put away, dishes washed and countertops wiped.  

So this is where my wheels started turning.  Really...would having a couple "sister wives" around be that bad?  I mean think of all the benefits:

(I've got mad photoshop skillz, yo)

1.  Your house would probably be immaculate.  Between the three of you, one could do the daily, routine tasks.  Another could take care of a big organizational project, and the third could focus solely on laundry.

2.  You would never have to go without stimulating adult conversation.  One of the "sisters" would always be around to chat with.

3.  You could tag team the children.  

4.  You could get on some kind of a rotation where one of the "sisters" stays home with the kids while the others could go shopping, or for a jog, or out to lunch.

5.  You could share clothes.  (Though pastel colored dresses with puffed sleeves might get old)

6.  Appointments would be so easy to schedule.  No worries of "who's going to watch my kids?" or "how will they behave in that 10x10 foot office space?"  Say hello to fresh highlights every 8 weeks on the dot!

7.  Puny errands would be so easy.  The kids could be left in their carseats with the other sister wives while you just "run in" to grab something.

Ladies...the list is ENDLESS!  

I really think that Colorado City might be sitting on the best kept secret in the West!

ONLY ONE CONDITION:  Sister wives must leave the premises before MY MAN comes home at 6:30 pm.  No exceptions.

all signs are pointing to YES

Let's see.  

Last week at the gym he stripped down, ripped off his diaper and alerted the babysitting attendant that he needed to go pee-pee.

Do you think he's ready, or what?

Problem is...AM I READY?

Yesterday we burned through 7 pairs of Diego, Cars, & Spiderman "big boy" undies.

We (and when I say "we" I mean "I") cleaned up 3 bodily spills out of the carpet.

He consumed lots of pee-pee treats i.e. colored marshmallows and left-over chocolate Santas.

He snuck in a shameful hide-behind-the-plant-in-the-living-room private poop.

And seriously...will we ever be able to leave the house?

But really.  I think he is ready.

Advice is welcome.  I'm a first timer.

progress report.

Somebody call  LOCKS OF LOVE  because today we reached a milestone!

**PIGTAILS**

not very big ones.  in fact, they are more like sprigtails, or pony spikes.  Or mulletails (see how that rolls off the tongue), at best.

But honestly, we'll take it. 

It's the small things in life that should be celebrated!

Jackisms

Jack barely speaks in full sentences, yet things are still coming out at his tender age of two that need documentation.

Jackism #1 - Our JoAnn's Fabric store is so obviously designed with marketing motives in mind by someone WITHOUT children.  The checkout line resembles a disneyland line complete with ropes and switchbacks.  On both sides of the line there are shoulder high shelves lined with every candy (common and obscure) that you can imagine. 

 There is no hope for distraction.  Your kids are enveloped by temptation.  While we were in this line the other day, Jack was standing up in the cart (yes, I've been told it's a hazard) reaching over, inching towards the candy and telling me, "Mom, don't see me.  kay?"

Jackism #2 - On our way to church, we always pass by a park.  Without fail, Jack usually requests some play time.  This Sunday was no different.  

J - "I want play park!"  

us - "Not now sweetie.  We get to go to church and learn about Jesus."

J - "NO.  NOT JESUS!  I want park!"

us - "Sorry Sweetie.  We get to see your friends at nursery and learn about Jesus."

J - (the rest of the way to church in a chanting fashion) "NO.  Not Jesus, not Jesus, not Jesus....!"

Jackism #3 - Almost always before breaking a rule or getting into mischief while we are around, Jack will announce his intentions to us by saying something like, "Don't say NO me!  Kay guys? Don't say NO."  I love that he refers to us as "guys".  Everything ends in "kay guys?"

I have a feeling I will need to keep track of these the older he gets.  I just can't wait to see what's been trapped in that mind of his for a couple years!  Or can I?

he said it's lame

Troy doesn't like it, but I do.  

My new header/banner.  Whatever they're called.  

Kinda random, but I was sick of DeGraff's Blah, Blah, Blahg.  I needed something happy and new. 

When Troy and I were first married, we'd wake up next to each other and serenade each other to that country song, Good Morning Beautiful by Steve Holy.  Have you ever heard it?  Can you just imagine us looking into each others' eyes, singing with our stinky morning breath?  

Okay.  It wasn't that cheesy, but close.  We just liked the words:

Good morning beautiful

How was your night

Mine was wonderful

With you by my side

And when I open my eyes

And see your sweet face

It's a good morning beautiful day

So, the title of my blog might be random to you.  Or lame to Troy.  But I like it because it reminds me of happiness.  And this year I want to focus on all the happiness in my life!  

So here's GOOD MORNING to all the beautiful days of 2009!

yes i am

do you love this?  me too.  i want one now!

Snuggles

Yesterday I renewed my license at the DMV.

Today I got pulled over by a cop.

And guess who didn't have their new license with them?  yep.  me.

But luckily I wasn't breaking the law.  Just a broken tail light.

Unluckily, I'm pretty sure at least 6 of my neighbors and friends saw me pulled over.  embarrassing!

And did you know that one of the routine questions asked these days is, "Do you have any firearms, bazookas, or chainsaws in the car?"  Really?  chainsaws?  bazookas?  I thought he was joking.  He didn't appreciate my chuckle.  

And did you also know that one of the best ways to get over your nervous breaking-the-law jitters is to receive THIS as a late Christmas present from one of your friends?  Nothing says relaxation like a snuggle wrap! 

 Now excuse me while I shuffle around the house in my fleecy piece of heaven!

Am I feeling alright?

What's wrong with me?  

I can't seem to find my zest for blogging.

  Did it stay on vacation after I came home?  

Has it run out of things to say?

Perhaps it wants to move on to less time-sucking tasks?

Maybe it just needs a few days off?

Bear with me while we get things figured out....

In the meantime we will be:

1.  Battling the binky war.

2.  Considering changing the diaper situation with Jack.

3.  Working on Lucy's hairgrowth for her 1-year old celebration.

4.  Getting cough and phlegm free

AND

5.  Enjoying moments of play...together (finally)!

So hard to say goodbye...

I hate saying goodbye to the holidays.

It means I have to take down our tree that so romantically lights up our living room at night.

It means no more family to enjoy.

it means no more cousins to entertain Jack.

It means NO more excuses for hot chocolate and biscotti.

It means no more shopping in the hustle and bustle. (ok...let's be honest. who can really do that with kids anyway?)

It means no more familiar carols and festive music.

It means fewer lazy days playing with toys and lounging around in PJ's.

It means time to get down to business and back into real life.  

And this is the part I hate the most. 

Though I do enjoy setting new goals, I am mostly a YELLOW personality (if you've ever taken that test) and I just like to relax and have a good time!

But nonetheless, we did have a great holiday and appreciate the time with our families.

Little Soosy

bubs & lu

(best shot I could possibly get)

Visit with Santa

(we've got a 2-year tear free record!)

A white Christmas in Idaho!

My favorite part of the trip - Sledding in Sunshine!

Heather & me going hard core!

Christmas morning Part II in California

Whale Watching with my family

(We didn't see a single one!)

And here's to a happy and prosperous 

2009!

sweet apologies

We meant to wish you all a merry christmas.  We really did.

Problem is, we got busy consuming obscene amounts of this:

...and adding extra poundage to our hips....enough to make us add another goal to our New Year's Resolution list (as though it doesn't make it on there EVERY year!)

  Our neighbors can thank us for the clogged arteries via the most delicious cinnamony, sugary, cream cheesy, buttery sinful cinnamon rolls EVER.  (but i don't want to brag)

Our kids can thank us for two weeks of  unbridled sugar intake. 

Please notice Jack shoving fistfuls of candy into his mouth and lucy with frosting remains dripping from her lips.

Maybe next year Jack will be less busy consuming and more busy creating.  That sad milk carton house needs some bedazzling!

And our dentist can thank us for not brushing Jack's teeth after decorating sugar cookies at 8pm on Family Night.

But shoot.  Would the holidays be the holidays without consuming mass quantities of baked goods and candy?  

Please say no.  

And please say you'll forgive us for not wishing you a merry Christmas.  We hope you had a wonderful one!  

Love from our hips to yours.

my macho metro man

As defined by the Urban dictionary, a METROSEXUAL is this:

Modern enlightened, sort of rennasance man. Secure and confident, capable and cool, typically well educated and stylish. Heterosexual with a twist, not gay by any means, but he probally has a few gay friends, and can easily be mistaken for gay by rednecks and jock types.  The only straight guy in a fabric store or antique shop who is not being dragged there by a woman.

For years I've grappled for a classification suited for my husband.  You see, he's not exactly a metrosexual.  I'm pretty sure nobody would ever mistake him for gay, and he doesn't possess an overbearing, egocentric desire for trends or vanity.  Like this guy:

But, he most certainly has an eye for detail and on many occasions has entered a fabric or antique shop and liked it.  Even loved it!

On the other hand, he's very macho. 

 Always has been.  He likes his sports, soda, and woman just as much as the next guy.  If you ruffle his feathers, he puffs up his chest and you can sometimes see the testosterone pumping.  Pure man, right?

So you see.  We have somewhat of a dichotomy here.  These two contradictions must find a middle ground.  Which is where this new word originated: 

 METRACHO

A METRACHO man is a cross between a metrosexual and a macho heterosexual.  In short, my man is a METRACHO man.

Here are some recent examples of his METRACHOness (with emphasis on the metro):

1.  Tuesday night he came home with four pairs of women's jeans for me that he had hand selected from The Buckle after an hour of searching for the precise sizes, long enough lengths, and "cute" pocket designs.  All because he knew my one pair of jeans that I've worn almost everyday for 2 years had seen better days, and he knew I would probably never go find myself a new pair.  Best part is....I can almost guarantee that he did all this selecting on his own without the help of a female employee.  And you know what?  The jeans fit like a glove!

2.  For my birthday this year, or maybe it was our anniversary, Troy went to Sally Beauty supply and bought all the necessary items to give me a home pedicure.  Complete with a hot soak, nail buffing, skin exfoliating, and massage.  I know...eat your heart out ladies!  

3.  It is not uncommon for us to be driving around quaint towns or holiday decorated shops and hear him say, "Those shops are so cute.  Wouldn't it be fun to get a hot chocolate and walk down the streets under the lights?"

4.  If you think I decorate my house alone, YOU ARE WRONG.  My man has opinions.  He wants things just a certain way.  He likes to house shop with me and discuss colors or furniture arrangements in great detail.   Sometimes I wish I'd just hear those words my dad used to mumble to my mom, "Whatever you want, honey." 

5.  While Troy is extremely talented at finishing concrete, laying brick, installing sprinklers, fixing garbage disposals, or adding decorative woodwork to our home, some of his real talents can be found in the kitchen.  He can do some pretty amazing things with a rack of spices!  He likes to dream up new recipes and get creative.  And if you think it stops there...oh no.  He also likes to make sure the presentation of the final meal is top notch.  Complete with a mint sprig or chocolate drizzle.

6.  When Troy and I first started dating, I tried to hide my love of the local COZY station.  I was somewhat of a closet listener who enjoyed singing the love hits through the ages.  It didn't take long to learn that the Cozy station was also his station of choice and he could keep up on a mean rendition of "We've only Just Begun" by the Carpenters.  This also goes right along with his enjoyment of Chick Flicks.  Thank goodness....since that's about the only type of movie I really like to see!

I'm telling you.  I married the most macho metrosexual on the planet.  And I love it!

Thanks babe for being you!  The hottest METRACHO around!

And just for any male readers who may be surprised by these new findings about your pal Troy...don't worry!  He is still VERY MACHO!  Just last week I saw him gnawing on a turkey leg and scratching himself in a public place.

for all those asking...

THIS is where I've been....

Thanksgiving in a nutshell

We hosted this motley crew + 2 parents.

They pitched in on the housework, fully entertained jack, complimented me on my cooking, and spent some serious time doing this:

Troy and I quickly realized that if only we could clone ourselves, the Thanksgiving dinner prep would be so much easier!

I had visions of sitting down to a table setting like this.  Of course all dressed in coordinating fall-festive sweaters and sports-coats.

Reality was...we worked all day sans showers and when we finally sat down to the table I realized I was still in my hoodie and pajama bottoms. 

It's called Rookies mistake.  Note to self:  Don't even enter the kitchen on Thanksgiving day until morning grooming has taken place.

Troy dreamed (dreamt, dreameded?) of seeing this on the table.  He so carefully prepared a flavorful brine 24 hours in advance to soak the bird in.  Then prepped it for the oven and strategically placed the thermometer in the thigh and waited for the ideal 160 degree temperature.  

And waited.  

...and waited.  

and then discovered 4 hours later that the thermometer was set to Celsius NOT fahrenheit!

It was a little bit of a flashback to Clark Griswald cutting into their Christmas turkey.  Poof...and it pulverizes on the table! 

Oh well...it was still the most flavorful dry meat I've ever tasted!

We certainly learned a LOT.  And I think we'd all agree that Thanksgiving is best spent with FAMILY!