Things that make me smile

2010 was a whole lot of eh.  You know what I mean.  It wasn't a horrid year or anything, but it wasn't super fantabulous, either.  It was a shoulder-shrugger, brush off sort of year.  I will not feel sad to see it slip away into the frozen night this weekend.

Still, I know that my family and I have really, truly been blessed, and I have been terribly negligent in my failing to acknowledge it.  For so many in our country, and even more around the world, 2010 was a painful, difficult, awful year.  I should treasure my apathy for the year; at least it wasn't sorrow, pain, fear, or hunger.

There are so many things in my life that make me smile. 

College football, for one:

(Was anyone out there wondering if Bug still looked like her daddy?)

Our autumn Saturdays were full of good food, good friends, and Cougar football.  (Except, of course, for that one glorious day in October when our house stood divided and my Aggies reigned triumphant!)  Since they got married several years ago, we have watched nearly every BYU game in the company of our good friends, the Ortons.  In fact, last year we watched a game at their home and then practically headed right to Labor and Delivery afterward to have our little ladyBug.  Three weeks later, Buggy made one her first trips out of the house to watch another game with our friends.  (She peed on their hardwood floors, and they still invited us the next week.)  We are so lucky to have good friends.  The hurt and struggles of my crazy twenty-six  plus the scheduling challenges of a very small but needy third wheel have naturally affected our social life over the last year.  Without the Ortons, we'd practically be hermits.  Also, I wouldn't have such nice hair.  (Thanks, Stace!)


Want to see a memory that makes me smile?  Over Labor Day, we took the baby and headed to Silver Lake to relax and take in the beautiful weather.

Now, prepare yourselves for this.  Waaaaay back in October 2002, we headed to the same lake shortly after Grandma Nancy passed away to relax and take in the beautiful weather.  Have we changed much?

Weird, huh?  And speaking of young love, Bug went on her very first dates in 2010-- first with an older man:

with Daddy at the aquarium

 and then with a younger man.  (She's a cougar.)

Bug and her ward boyfriend.  They flirt and exchange birthday presents and Christmas cards.
 Basically the only downside is that his parents are funnier and more clever than we are.

2011 is going to be a fantastic year.  I just know it.  I sense it.  I feel it in my heart.  I will cheer and clap and, perhaps most impressively, stay up all the way until midnight  to welcome it with open arms. 

I'm not sure what to say about this.

Not to ruin the festive tone of the last post, but raise your hand if you vote for this dude as suckiest Santa ever:

Me, too.

Got himself a cute kid on his lap, though.

Merry Christmas to all!

Hello, everyone! Bug and family had a very Merry Christmas this year!  We got all spruced up for the annual Christmas Eve fondue party at Bunk and Grammy Lu's place.



After hanging out with some of her favorite people, including Grandpa D,

she changed into her Rudolph jammies,

and snuggled into bed, presumably dreaming of sugar plum fairies or other such Christmasy thoughts.

 When she woke up, Santa had been to our house!  Hooray!

Nana remembered her yearly Christmas ornament,

and we all ate delicious food all day long.  What a wonderful Christmas! 

I hope we are blessed enough that each Christmas is as full of joy and happiness as this one was.



Very happy holiday wishes to you and yours!

The beginning of the story is not important.

I handed my heavy, drowsy daughter off to my husband, gratefully trading the sleeper-clad weight of her for the carton of eggs and the cellophane Santa bags I wanted to fill with cookies for the neighbors.  The buzz of hundreds of shoppers waiting in huddled masses for the sale on PlayStations faded into background noise as I noted that the fly on my denim jeans was completely down, and that, due to the way I stand with my hip awkwardly jutting out when I hold the baby, the crotch-region of my pants was bursting open for the world to see in a brass zipper-framed slice of wonder.

The end.

Are you ready for Christmas?

The cruelty of childhood.

But. Mommy. You. Are. So. Unfair.

If Bug knew any of those words, I'm certain she would have used them-- in that order!-- last night.

Here is what I made her for dinner:

A slice of wheat bread
A piece of string cheese
A cup of whole milk
A bowl of chopped spinach mixed with rice cereal.

Incapacitated by the second voice-stealing, energy sapping cold in a month's time, I found myself without the gumption to cook for myself or the Hubs.

Here is what I had for dinner:

A McDouble
Small Fry
Diet Dr. Pepper.

I'm going to start practicing now:  You can choose that when you are a mommy, Bug.

Necessity is the mother of invention

A couple of weeks ago, Schmoopsie and I stopped to grab a quick dinner after an evening of Christmas shopping.  (I don't want to brag, but we're probably 90% done with our shopping, and it's all wrapped and under the tree.)(Just kidding, I actually do want to brag.  Also, we bought nearly everything with gift cards from our credit card rewards program.  Boo-yah.)  Anyway, we were in possession of a certain hungry Bug, so I made sure to order something she could enjoy, too.  The creamy cheddar cauliflower soup was excellent.  Unfortunately, the soup spoon was too deep for tiny lips.  (Bug's or mine, to be honest.)

Enter: My new-found Mommy Ingenuity.

I know, right?  Super smart.  Worked like a charm.

And then. 

She finished, and I pushed the bowl out of reach.  I turned away to grab a napkin, and in a flash Bug's stubby little fingers stretch forward, neatly catching the very tip of the straw.  The soupy end of the straw flipped upward, sending a fine, even spray of creamy cheddar cauliflower droplets toward the sky, showering me and my black corduroy jacket from the top of my head to my waist.

Covered my food from my kid's plate?  In public?  Oh yeah.  I'm THAT MOM.

Do you know what my Mommy Ingenuity told me to do then?  Wipe me eyes and run a napkin through my hair and hustle out the door as quickly as possible.  Oh no, wait.  That was my husband, muttering his embarrassment under his breath in a steady stream:  "oh my word. oh my word.  You are covered.  It is everywhere.  Let's GO."

Kids raise the potential humiliation quota for any outing by at least 500%.