The dog days are over. I love this phrase. I heard the song that's playing yesterday at the perfect time and I haven't been able to get it out of my head. I am thankful for this song. I woke up today singing it in my head again. It's telling me that it's a new year. And it's going to be fantastic. 

I'm choosing happiness over sadness and anger this year. Whatever happens along the way is up to me. 

Here's to your 2011. Choose to make it great. We are.

:: Thanks to our good friend Lisa for taking this picture for us! ::

New Traditions

You know you're getting old mature when YOU are the one hosting Christmas. 

My younger cousin recently asked me if I was planning to come down to my aunt's house for Christmas this year and I told her that we were actually hosting at our place. This was her response in a nut shell: "wow you sound so old". I love it - when it means I get to stay parked at my place for three days straight and eat.

I am so excited to have our house full of people this year. We are hosting our very own "Christmas Palooza" Dec 23 through the 26th. When we first bought our house, this was something I was so looking forward to. I thought it was going to be more of a battle to convince folks to head up North, but circumstance and interest has proven otherwise. I'm looking forward to new traditions this year and couldn't be more thankful to have such amazing people to celebrate with and entertain this year.

I've got a few goals in mind. We're going to be casual, relaxed, and stuffed to our brims with good eats. Here's some of the treats I am most looking forward to / getting an extra layer of chub from this week. It will be a group effort, mostly prepared by myself, my mom and my MIL, Voni.

• Hot Buttered Rums
• Baked Ziti 
• Oyster Stew
• Crab
• Pulled Pork Sliders
• Cranberry / Apricot Brie
• Pumpkin Cupcakes
• Peanut Butter Pie
• Egg & Sausage Bake
• Mimosas
• Honey Baked Ham
• Hawaiian Sweet Rolls
• Pumpkin Pie

Here's to new traditions and sweat pants this holiday season, from our home to yours.

Nice Rash

I got a rash in Hawaii. Yah, I said it.

I like to imagine myself as this beautiful sun goddess that instantly turns into freaking Giselle when I put my suit on while I work out. Not quite. Even after my 57 miles. Perhaps I should have started prepping much sooner than 19 days before our trip. (Who am I kidding?)

Not only was I not the sun goddess I pictured while I ran, I got a sun/heat rash. Sun goddesses don't get sun rashes.

Rash. I hate that word. (The actual "having one" part sucks too.)

Three days before we headed home, even after applying (and re-applying and re-applying) sunscreen, I ended up getting this blotchy red itchiness on my arms, legs, chest, and stomach.

Sexy.

After a sleepless night of itchiness (putting it lightly) we decided that we'd head to North Shore for the day and I'd stay out of the sun. While Ty was able to distract me for a good 4 hours, about 4 hours and 1 minute into the "adventure" I couldn't handle it anymore. I came to terms with it. I googled the dreaded words: "sun rash, heat rash, remedies" and found this:

• Take a bath in baking soda, corn starch, or oatmeal. 
• Apply aloe to the 'affected area'. (Gross)
• Don't itch. (Yah right.)

We made our way to a Safeway so I could pick up my "remedies". I thought our hotel staff probably wouldn't appreciate me taking a bath in corn starch or oatmeal so I decided on the baking soda. (I didn't need to see this on my bill: "Misc. Hotel Charge: Clogged bathtub drain due to an unknown, yet insanely thick substance - $1,000,000.00.) I snagged some aloe (sun goddesses don't typically need aloe so I didn't pack any - obviously).Ty dropped me off at the hotel while he returned the rental car. (Please note, the rental car place was 5 minutes away. He was gone for 2 hours. I can't imagine why. It's not like he needed any time away from me. I was so much fun to be around that day.) During this time, I poured an entire carton of baking soda into the tub with me in hopes of "washing" this rash (that word again... ugh!!!!) away. While it didn't work, it helped. As did the aloe. I love aloe.

It's been a week since the dreaded rash. But the lesson remains. I can still be a goddess. An SPF 70 wearing, spray tanning, Sublime Bronze applying goddess.

(The "Giselle" part? Yah, that's an "in your dreams" work in progress.)

P.S. Ty is soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo dark. It's annoying.

Live for Now

It's fun for me to see that even after being together for 4 years, I am still learning so much about my husband. And us.

I have realized something new about us. Ty lives for the now. He lives in the moment. I, on the other hand, live for the future. I look forward to things. I get excited about what's to come. We are great compliments to each other when it comes to this.

Sometimes.

Sometimes, this is hard. I expect Ty to get excited about the things ahead. He expects me to slow the heck down and enjoy the moment.

He's right.

I often forget to stop, and realize that what we have right now is great. This moment is fantastic - and we are so lucky. We are learning how to balance each other out here without hurting the other person's feelings. It's easy for us to take the other person's perspective personally when we shouldn't. It's never my intent to disregard the right now when I focus on the future. I know it's never his intent to come across as lackadaisical about the future when he's perfectly content with this very moment. This is what I love about him. I know these things. We are stronger because we are different.

Learning every day over here.

What about you?

43 miles

Fifteen days ago, I decided to run 3 miles a day until Thanksgiving. I'm 43 miles in (I ran 4 tonight and still have 2 to make up for since I missed my Friday run) and I'm feelin' good. By Thursday, I will have run a total of 57 miles in 19 days.

When I ran my first of 19 runs, I was having a rough day and thought that a good run would help me clear my head and de-stress. Boy was I right. It felt so good, I thought I'd do it again the next day. After my 2nd run, I thought 3 miles is no problem, why not do another 17 days until we leave for Hawaii. I went ahead and ran each day, and by that Friday, I was running 3 miles in 27 minutes. I missed my run on Wednesday, so I ran 6 miles on Thursday. Surprisingly, it wasn't hard. It was boring. But not hard. (I had to run it on my treadmill. I haven't run more than 5 miles on my treadmill in a long time. Longer runs are so much better outside! Part of the reason I didn't do a full 6 today. B O R I N G.)

Here's what I've learned. Running isn't just about getting your butt in gear for a tropical trip that involves bathing suits and shorts. In fact, running has become my other best friend this week. This week has by far been one of the toughest weeks I've had in quite awhile. Running has been my escape. My mental break. My emotional release. Tonight, I thought about something one of my favorite running buddies told me on Friday. I absolutely know that running is mental. To me, "mental" has always meant having a running list of topics to think about while running: wishing my legs looked like Carrie Underwood's, my butt in a suit, the six pack I'll have after 1 more mile, getting in shape for babies, the man who ran from Seattle to Florida in 100 days by running 37 miles a day, the NYC marathon Lisa Kristen just ran, the 10K I ran last summer through Woodinville, what I would say to someone if I were to see them again, etc. He meant something totally different - being so mentally "in control" that you think about nothing other than what your body is doing. I did that tonight. I focused so closely to my breathing that by the time I actually thought about which mile I was on, I was already at 3. That's the first time I was able to do that. And let me tell you, thinking about nothing was just the escape I needed.

Today,  I am thankful for my health. I am thankful for my body and for what it is capable of doing - both mentally and physically. I am proud of myself for sticking to something.

And I feel good.

Our Story

I saw this quote on my friend Lisa's blog last week, but I needed it today.

"I can be changed by what happens to me. But I refuse to be reduced by it."
— Maya Angelou

We've all had things "happen to us". Sad things. Bad things. Uncontrolled things. Hurtful things. They become apart of our story. They are apart of how we live our life moving forward. They make us who we are. They make us stronger.

It's during these times that we are blinded by the moment. The moment you learn that life won't be the same. The moment you know someone you love won't be the same. But that's OK, because you're right.

We won't be the same.

We will be better.

Like a Blown Fuse

This weekend was just "one of those weekends". By "one of those weekends" I mean, cry at the drop of a hat at random and not so random times. Like a blown fuse. You know, it always feels so random when a fuse blows, yet when you really think about it after wards you realize that you had every light in the house on, a straightener plugged in and a blow dryer going. It felt good to cry. It felt even better knowing I have a husband that knows me well enough to just let me get it out. He doesn't judge me, or stare at me like I'm crazy. Instead, he'll get up from his chair, walk over to me and just let me cry it out, until there's no more tears... or until he makes a joke in between sobs that makes it impossible to continue. This guy, I tell ya. While I wish the reason for the crying mattered, it really doesn't. I don't think it really matters what triggered the tears because I think they just needed to get the heck out. Needless to say, I feel better.

On a similar, yet very different note, I have a new goal. I'm attempting to run 19 three mile runs between this past Sunday and Thanksgiving - one a day. We leave the day after for our much needed getaway to Hawaii so I thought what better way to get my butt in gear. Even if I don't shed a pound, I will be more mentally prepared to put on a swimsuit. That's good enough for me. So far, I have been meeting my objective - 4 days in a row! However, yesterday could have gone bad. I blew a fuse. One whole side of our house was powerless. Ty wasn't home, which meant I was too. I had no idea where the fuse box even was in our house. I finally found it in the garage. After attempting to switch the switches and click the clickers twice, I had made zero progress. Ty was an hour away from being home and it was already 8:30. I'll be honest. I almost gave up. I didn't. Ty got home at 9:30, did his magic and I was up and at 'em doing my 3 miles.

What would I do without him?

Apparently I'd be living in the dark, crying.

The Best Birthday Gift

Thank you to everyone that has sent me the most wonderful birthday messages today! I have the most amazing people in my life. I am so blessed. 

I have to say though, the best part of the day so far is that my mom posted the most beautiful picture of her and I twenty-nine years ago today. This picture is so special to me because this is where it all started folks. The mother-daughter relationship can't be beat and I am so incredibly lucky. Not just because she "carried me in her womb for 9  months" (inside mother-daughter joke alert), or because she gave birth to me, but because our relationship is something I treasure everyday. She is the perfect mom for me. So much of who I am, is because of who she is. 

My biggest hope is that I will get to experience something as special as we have, 

with a daughter of my own someday. 

Here's to all the mothers out there that put everything they have into their kids because they know that someday, they won't be so little. Someday, they'll be adults. 

Someday, they'll be your friends.

I love you, Mama!

t minus 3 days

I am going to be 29 on Thursday. 2-9. Totally insignificant, right? Because next year's birthday is the one that really matters, right? No, not right. 2.9. 29. I am not 23 anymore. I am not 25 anymore. I feel like the last three birthdays were insignificant - with the exception of 28, my "Golden Birthday". Which in reality means nothing, it's just a fun thing to say. To be honest, the fact that last year was my "Golden Birthday" actually 100% distracted me from the fact that I was just one year closer to 30. I was so distracted in fact, I didn't realize that I had a piece of spinach in my teeth for most of it.

This year is different. I expected this birthday to mean nothing since next year's birthday is the one that really matters. Nope. For some reason, 29 is freaking me out. Annie just recently did a 30 before 30 List. I loved the idea, so I thought I'd do one too (then I saw that she has about 250 extra days to complete her list, so I already felt super behind and gave up). When I was 18, 30 seemed SO OLD, which would mean I am SO OLD because 29 rounded up is 30. I seriously feel like I went to sleep at 23 and woke up and here I am, about to be 29. All of a sudden, the last several years are a total blur and now I'm wishing I did a whole lot of things differently. For instance:

• I wish I didn't go tanning every day of my junior and senior year of highschool. 
• I wish I didn't put bacon gristle Hawaiian Tropic (SPF Negative1000) all over myself and lay out in the sun every summer between 1998-2006. 
• I wish I would have started moisturizing at 7 years old. 
• I wish I purchased eye cream at 8. 
• I wish I didn't pluck my perfectly bushy eyebrows pencil thin when I was 19, because they've been trying to grow back ever since.
• I wish I wouldn't have started shaving my legs at 10 years old because now my hair actually starts growing back before I even step out of the shower/bath tub. Perhaps I should have waited until it actually mattered. I am pretty sure John Otness didn't notice that in 5th grade. I'd hope not.
• I wish I would have never waxed my upper lip because it's my own fault I will be participating in Movember next month.

There are definitely things I want to accomplish this year and there are definitely wishes to make when I blow out my 29 candles on Thursday. While I can't tell you my wishes, I can guarantee you this: I won't have spinach in my teeth in any of the pictures.

PS - Thanks to the folks that celebrated with me last year - for letting me "smile big" for the camera all night. I thought we were closer than that.

Addiction Alert :: Lychee Martinis

What you'll need: 

A Shaker 

Vodka 

Canned Lychees 

Lychee Juice 

Ice 

Pretty glass 

Yum.

Ty and I often hit up Thai Rhapsody in MCTC and every time we go, I have about 10 of these things. OK, probably only 3, but still. They are so amazing. If they weren't ridiculously priced, I'd probably never leave that place. So, a few weeks back I was on a mission. We were going to figure out how they make them so I could have as many as my heart desired without breaking the bank (or embarrassing  myself in a public place). We knew there was vodka involved. Check. We knew lychees were involved. We finally found them at Central Market. Check. (We killed two birds with one stone when the canned lychees were in the lychee juice. Double check!)

The drinks at TR seem so exotic and hard to make. Not so much. Obviously. (I never said I was that smart.) Now, go on with your bad self. Enjoy! Make yourself one - or 10.

WARNING: The evening we made these for the first time, I passed out at 11pm, only to wake up at 6am realizing that the dogs were still down stairs waiting for me to take them up to bed. Good Mom. (Another reason it's good we're not parents to real life human babies yet.)

Marriage actually is hard... & life is short.

I've recently learned something that people have been telling me for years. Marriage is hard. Up until recently, I understood the words that were coming out of their mouths, but I didn't really get it. I have news for you, folks.

Marriage is hard.

Remember this post? Easiness and breeziness was for year 1. Year 2 is a little harder. I'm just being honest. Ty and I have an incredible relationship. He puts up with me. What more could I ask for? In all seriousness, marriage can also mean some not so good times - tough conversations, hurt feelings, taking care of sick puppies, paying bills, stressful work weeks, etc. There's a book out there called "The Five Languages of Love" that talks to something I can totally relate to. I am a "quality time" kind of gal. I feel most loved by Ty when he spends time with me. Well, time has been tough to find these days. With our busy work schedules and travel schedules, the past 6 weeks have been rough for my QT love needs (and my blog, for that matter -- sorry for the month break).

Saturday was "date night". Gotta love this. We're married, we don't have kids, but we need "date nights"... puh-leeze, right? (Seriously, we need them.) We were heading to dinner when I went there. You know, the place so many of us would prefer to avoid because hurtful conversations are NO FUN but often times needed. I told Ty in a super nice way ("direct, and borderline rude" should replace "super nice" if we're I'm really being honest) that we are WASTING time. I come home, I shut down, I go to bed. Fun for him. He comes home, he goes to the gym, and he goes to bed. Fun for me.

Not working.

We agreed that we need to stop wasting time, and start enjoying each other. Life is short. Even though we may feel like the day is done when we get home from work - it isn't. This is our chance to make the day good, even if our "day at work" wasn't. It's about choices, people.

And we are choosing each other. No more wasting our evenings thinking / talking / eating / breathing work. We are going to think about us, talk about us (and the dogs, duh), eat (obviously), and yes folks, breath...

together.

Kudos to my mama who heard me out last Friday and helped me "own" this as well. 

Love you for all that you are to me, and all the things that you may think go unnoticed. Never forget - you are an amazing woman!

A Birth Story

We have all heard the saying "there's two sides to every story". In the case of today's blog, I'll start by saying, there's several sides to this story. The story of sweet Ali Girl's birth is one that a few of us had the honor of experiencing and as I sit here and reflect on it, I realize that even today, I'm not sure I'll find all the words to describe it and give it justice.

Annie and I have been best friends since the moment we met. It was instantaneous. We clicked over bean burritos and Diet Coke as freshmen at Western and have been inseperable ever since. To say the least. Just this week, we are celebrating ten years as friends. When I look back at the last ten years and all we've experienced, it's hard for me to accept the fact that its only been ten years. So much has happened in what feels like a lifetime of friendship. I really can't remember my life "pre-Annie". I'm so lucky. She is the perfect friend for me. "Love" doesn't even begin to describe how I feel about this girl. Especially now.

About 9 months ago, Ty and I made our 6 minute trek over to the Dumond's for a typical Saturday night dinner ala sweats. Within seconds of walking in the door I noticed their sweet pups wearing little shirts. I didn't even have to read them to know what was going on. You see, we've talked about this moment for the last ten years. The moment where she'd share news with me that would change our lives forever. Our friendship has consisted of conversations about our future and all that we have to look forward to since day one. At 18, we talked about meeting "the one" while watching TLC's Wedding Story in between classes. We'd then skip our next class to watch TLC's Baby Story so we could imagine the day when we'd see each other as moms. It seemed so far away. It wasn't.

Annie's pregnancy was just another chapter in the book we'll call Our Friendship - from seeing the pee stick, to learning it was a girl, to watching her and Dui get the nursery ready, to doctors appointments, blog entries, maternity clothes, summer walks around the neighborhood, and finally the call that changed everything.

4:30am Friday, August 27th, 2010
* I want to note that I did wake up at 3am and pretty much couldn't go back to sleep because I was thinking about Annie and the babe. 

Me: Hi Honey! (He was calling from Annie's phone.)

Dui: It's Dumond. (Morning voice and all.)

Me: Oh. Hi Dumond. What's going on? (Duh.)

Dui: OK, so Annie's been having contractions since 2 and they are about 5 min apart. You should probably come now. (In other words, I know you'd be pissed if I waited any longer to call you so I am calling now knowing there's nothing else you'd rather be doing.)

Me: OK, I am going to shower and come right over. (Obviously.)

Dui: OK, bye. 

Me: See you soon.

At this point, I yelled to Ty, as he slept soundly next to me: "Ty! This is it!! It's happening!" I shot up, ran to the bathroom, started brushing my teeth and texting simultaneously to my boss that I wasn't coming in today. I quickly realized a shower was not going to happen. I needed to get my butt over to Annie's ASAP. The formally mentioned 6 minute "trek" seemed like a freaking 100 mile walk in slow motion in a blizzard. It felt like it took me forever to get there. I walked in the door to see my girl looking amazing. She did not look like she was in labor. She was just beautiful and ready to go. Ready to meet this baby girl she and Dumond had been so excited to meet for, well, ever.

I felt like I spent the next 24 hours with my mouth to the floor. Here's where I just don't feel like I can give the day justice. To see pictures from the day, you can actually see the slideshow I put toghether using Annie's dad's pictures from the day. Eddie Bear was with us the whole time and captured this special day. Speechless. Annie posted it on her blog - so grab some kleenex and turn up the volume!

I've never been with anyone during labor before. Not like this. I can't tell you how amazing the day was. What I will say is this: there's simply nothing like it. There's nothing like seeing your best friend bring life into this world. There's nothing like seeing someone you love so much show strength like you've never known. Ali came into this world at 1:30am on August 28th and everything changed. Seeing her and meeting her for the first time, was beyond what I expected. The day was so much of what I expected, and nothing I expected at the same time. I just didn't expect to be blown away like I was. I was blown away by Annie's peace and strength through the entire process. I was blown away by Dumond's commitment and constant support and encouragement. I was blown away by the emotion of seeing Annie's parents see their sweet baby girl become a mother herself. There are moments from the day that I will never forget. I will forever feel grateful to Annie and Dui for allowing me to be apart of it all... to be there on the sidelines, jaw dropped and in absolute amazement as they met their daughter for the first time.

New life is incredible. The experience is indescribable. The love you feel is unimaginable. I am so proud of my best friend. I have a new appreciation for women who give birth - because really, is there anything bigger than this?

I have a story to share...

Words really can't describe how I am feeling tonight. 

While I do have a story to share, I won't share it tonight. 

In the meantime, let this picture tell it for me. 

(Thank you, Eddie Bear.)

The Love Nest

About the Author

I've always liked to write. Growing up, I'd write notes to my friends in class. Who didn't? In the summers, I would write letters to friends and send them in the mail. (Elisha and I became very close with our postmen. We'd write little notes to them as well on the outside of the envelopes. Sweet things like, "PRIVATE PARTS" and "DO NOT OPEN POSTMAN". Mature.) When email came about, I was addicted. I had a juno.com account and an AOL account. I've kept a lot of the emails I've sent and received over the years because let's get honest - the things you write about in college are hilarious. This is when you are really getting to know yourself. The emails I wrote really captured where my head was at during a lot of first time experiences. And they are hilarious. (My favorites happen to be between Lindsay and I, largely due to the fact that these email exchanges were better than any journal or diary I'd ever write.)

Recently my parents put their house up for sale to move closer to us (well, and because John got a fantastic job in downtown Bellevue, so the drive from Gig Harbor to the eastside wasn't super fun... or realistic). As they were clearing out the clutter my mom came across this.

A book I wrote when I was 10 years old. 

I can remember writing this story and typing it on Mrs. Micheal's Apple computer. I can also remember making the cover. I was such a good artist. As you can tell. I blew paint through a straw... 1991 at it's finest.

Here you'll see another example of how creative I was, even back then.

Do you like our Uggs?

What I don't remember is writing this.

I mean, seriously. Who am I at 10 years old? Who says that? Who WRITES that?!!?? "She plans on having one child then having her UTERUS taken out." Was there spell check back then? I mean, how did I spell UTERUS right at 10 years old?

The moral of the story is this: I'm still finding ways to express myself through writing, 18 years later. And, if I were to illustrate this book now, the pictures would look exactly the same.

Cheers!

 
This past weekend, we celebrated my mom's birthday. At dinner, we all went around the table to say a little toast to celebrate her and just how amazing she is to each of us. We all said a little something. My "little something" happened to be an opening joke, followed by tears. Thank the few several beverages I consumed leading up to the sit down dinner -- or just the fact that words really can't describe how much I love my mom. The winner for the best toast of the evening went to my husband, hands down.

When Ty and I first met, I was definitely in the "single" mind set. I had come out of a 2.5 year relationship that lasted about 2 years too long. Ty was a nice guy. The perfect guy. He liked me a lot. Right away. What more could you ask for? Well, it freaked me out. He jumped into the deep end of the pool, while I was still sitting on the stairs at the shallow end. As Ty continued to yell (not literally) "Come on in - water's fine!" I was coming up with excuses to grab my towel. (OK - I am done speaking figuratively now.) One of those excuses happened to be:

He's too nice.  What's wrong with me!? 

About a month into the relationship, I had dinner with my mom. She hadn't met Ty yet but I had talked very openly with her about how things were going with him. I will never forget her telling me, "Jord. Just go with it. Enjoy it." So I did.

I don't remember ever telling Ty about that night and what my mom said but apparently I did. (Surely I was drunk. I can't imagine telling him "Hey buddy - you like me too much. You're too nice. But my mom said to just go with it, so I am.") When it came time for his toast, he raised his glass to my mom, looked her right in the eye and told her that if it wasn't for her, we probably wouldn't be together. I would have probably ran away and never looked back. He thanked her for her advice, despite not meeting him yet. It was the sweetest thing he's ever said to her and I know she'll never forget it.

And I won't either.

Everybody Poops!

Everybody poops. We all know this. Some of us have even read a popular kid's book with a similar title that helps us all make light of this - no matter our age.

Today I had an experience that I have no shame in sharing, because folks, it's real. Ty and I are a real couple with real issues. Issues that could potentially tear some couples apart. Not us. Issues like poop. Ty and I haven't always been so open about this topic, however having three dogs, two of which had a real issue with potty training, we're a little more willing to state the obvious yet again. Everyone, including our dogs, poop.

I am obviously just scratching the surface here... skirting around an issue if you will. Fine, I'll say it. I poop too. And Ty knows it. And if he didn't know it before, he most definitely does today.

In an effort to ensure I didn't skip a beat this morning, I went to the powder room (notice how non-disgusting I will attempt to write this story) in between calls as I worked from home. Unfortunately for me (yah right - stay tuned) our commode had a minor malfunction... as in, it practically filled to the surface and poured out the brim when I attempted to flush it. Too scared/impatient to see what could happen, I closed the door and thought "I'll deal with this later, I have things to do." I went back to work. Two hours later Ty came down from his office and marched his unassuming tush right in there. It was slow motion from there. Right as I realized what was about to happen, Ty shouts "OH GOD! WHAT HAPPENED IN HERE!?!?!?!?!". As mortified as I was, I could not get a grip on myself. The poor guy was absolutely disgusted with me, yet did what any Exceptional (that's right - I am giving my husband a performance rating for his work... he consistently goes above the call of duty) husband would do. He grabs our industrial strength plunger and gets to work. I was in hysterics but I don't think he could hear me in between his aggressive plunging efforts. The job took a good 4 minutes before he came back out to simply say, "OK Babe - New rule. Three tissues. That thing was packed. Have a good day" and off he went to another meeting.

All I have to say is this. That's love. And Marriage. And completely embarrassing, yet I feel better sharing it for some reason. My thought here is this - you people can relate to this right? I am not alone am I?

Couple's Retreat, Yes Please!

Lately, I have found myself day dreaming about our upcoming trip to Hawaii. It's four months away. Right around the corner. Not quite. I wish it was tomorrow. We've got a lot going on before we'll find ourselves drinking POG in 20E and 20F the day after Thanksgiving. This is the "busy season" at work for both Ty and I and most evenings we find ourselves dragging and counting down the minutes until we can hit the sack. We both have jobs where we have to be "on" all day, everyday so when we get home we're talked out and sometimes our relationship gets the short end of the stick until the weekend. This trip crosses my mind everyday. It seems to be my little stress reliever (and "get your ass in shape" reminder). I think about hammock time, palm trees, beautiful beaches, and sunsets and know that we have 9 days of pure relaxation coming our way.

Staycation

 - Photo courtesy of www.time.com - 

Last week, I took a little time off... a "staycation" if you will.

I did quite a bit last week. You'll be proud of me. I worked out everyday! I also ran a ton of errands and got to see a few friends in there too! Ty and I hosted a "co-ed baby kegger" at our house on Saturday for the Dumond's so we did have a few home projects on the list as well.

Ty and I decided it was an absolute must that we Ty stain some shingles on the outside of our house before the party. (Obviously people spend several hours staring at the front of the person's house they are visiting so this was critical.) At one time, these shingles I speak of were freshly stained. When we bought our house last year, I obsessed over the fact that they were no longer brand new looking so I have been talking to nagging Ty about them ever since. Husband of the year award goes to.... TY, FOR TAKING TWO DAYS OFF WORK TO STAIN SHINGLES THAT HE COULD CARE LESS ABOUT!

It doesn't end there. We stained a teek bench the weekend before and it turned out awesome. We thought that the color looked great and assumed (stupidly) that it would stain the same on cedar shingles. I know what you are thinking. I could have told you that! Rookies...

Yep, you were right. We made a HUGE, VERY TIME CONSUMING mistake. We stained the shingles on Thursday. By "we" I mean Ty stained and I supervised. By "supervised" I mean I watched him stain the dang things too dark and didn't stop him. (Good boss. I just went ahead and let him fail.) It was really dark. I knew it the whole time. I kept saying, "Looks good right? "A little dark, but it's just wet right?" "It's not going to dry that dark right?" As if it wasn't bad enough after one coat, we thought that if Ty painted on a second coat it would get lighter. Smart.

Let's flash forward to Friday morning. Around 9am. Ty and I agree it's too dark. Right as I am about to burst out into tears, Ty says he'll take a quick trip (take note here) to Lowe's and I'll get out the electric sander and start sanding it off. Good thing we bought the expensive oil based mahogany stain because it only took twelve hours to get it off. Ty's quick trip to Lowe's lasted about 2 and a half hours. By the time he got home, I had only gotten done with the corners of each of the two pillars. Just. The. Corners!

During the time Ty was gone our neighbors on all three sides of our house had spotted me. They didn't have to say anything. I could read it in their eyes. Poor fools. It was obviously too dark from the get go. It shouldn't have taken two coats and 10 hours to dry for them to realize it.

By 9 pm, Ty was done.

Lesson learned. Staining is fine. However, don't stain the whole thing until you know it's a color you actually like. And for God's sake, don't let your husband keep staining them when you know you hate it.

For all you new homeowners out there, this one's for you!

Summer Sweaters

There's nothing better than putting on a nice, warm and cozy sweater. In July. I actually wore a sweater to work today. While I can't believe that I actually have this wool frock on, I am secretly very thankful. You see, I don't actually FIT into any of my summer clothes right now. I know what you are thinking.  

Get some clothes that fit. It's not hard. Get over it. You're married. You're happy. You don't need to obsess over a size you once were. You're getting older. Your body is changing. Ty loves you no matter what your size is.

OR  

Get off your chubby butt and work out already. Stop complaining if you aren't going to do anything about it. Take the stairs at work. Stop eating loads of carbs. Use your treadmill more than three times a week. And for longer than 30 minutes. 

I will tell you that I have been working out for the past three weeks. I'm still frantically trying to squeeze into things from last year with no luck. Shocking. I thought that for sure it would only take three weeks to work off the weight I have so stupidly gained over the past 9 months.

My situation is unlike that of Ty's. What I wouldn't give to be a guy that can just think about going on a run and lose a few LB's. Ty gives up pop for a day and is back in his skinny jeans. I will say that Ty does go to the gym. He spends an exhausting 4 minutes on the treadmill doing "cardio" and the remaining 20 staring at himself in the mirror as he lifts weights. He then gets home and scurries up enough energy  to make himself a celebratory cocktail - or two.

- Case in Point: This was last night at about 9:45pm, 

a mere 2 and a half minutes after he got home from Gold's - 

He may be onto something, but I think he has it backwards. I am starting to think I may need to begin each workout with a cocktail. I've done some running under the influence before and must say I am quite good at it.

There was this one time. In college. When I embarrassed myself in front of Dumond by running aimlessly down a busy street without the sense to look both ways through several intersections.

I'm lucky to be alive.

There was another time. In Cabo. When I ran back to the resort mad after Ty was tired of me dancing on the stage at Mambo's.

I'm lucky to be married.

Both times I was quite sore afterward, yet had zero recollection of the actual mental strain workouts tend to have on me. I may give it a shot this weekend. I could end up with a chipped tooth, skidded up knees, a broken limb, or all of the above in the end but at least I am one step closer to stepping foot into seasonally appropriate clothing again, right?

Is it too late to ask Ty if he likes teal?

Now What?

 Me: Now can we? 

Ty: Um, nope. Just smile and look at the camera. We're on vacation. 

Me: What about now? 

Most common question asked of married couples:

 

"When do you think you'll have kids?" 

I was really surprised at how many people asked that question soon after Ty popped the question. It typically went like this:  

• Oh my gosh! Congratulations! How did he do it? 
• Can I see the ring? 
• When's the wedding?
• So when are you guys going to start having kids?

I actually have a friend that started saying "We're not" in response to the question just so people would stop asking - especially her parents. I think this is hilarious.

Since Ty and I started dating, there's always been something for me look forward to with Ty. 

See below:

• Moving in together.
• Getting engaged.
• Planning a wedding.
• Buying our first house.
• Getting married.

I think it's only natural for women who know they want kids to start obsessing over it the moment they get hitched. That was me. That wasn't Ty. Good times.

So, needless to say I had to pump the breaks. Obviously, we want kids. We were just a little off on when to start, you know, trying. About 4 months ago, I had an "ah ha" moment (after Ty basically said he wasn't ready. At our Valentine's Day dinner. At a restaurant. Where I cried. And walked out. And didn't talk the whole way home. Mature.) 

The reason I was obsessing about starting our family was because we didn't have any goals as a couple (and because that's all anyone asks you about once you get married). We bought our house, we'd practically furnished it (this mission has since been completed, thank you very much!), we got married. Check, check, check. Next up - babies!! Right? 

No. It was time for some "in the meantime" goals. 

We are going to Hawaii in November. We also started talking about going to Napa Valley this year, maybe Vegas, and then Greece for our 2 year anniversary next Spring/Summer. We also have loads of babies surrounding us / about to surround us so we can get our baby fixes in. (Who am I kidding? This is great news because I can get MY baby fixes in and Ty only has to worry about me obsessing over other people's kids and not our own... yet.)

Babies are obviously in our future. In the meantime, I will enjoy being with my husband. 


By being with I mean annoying him until he gives in and agrees that the next thing on our to-do list is to get pregnant.

Our Problem Child

 

Many of you know Ben. He's OUR (more on this in a minute) adorable Cavalier, who up until recently, has been extremely low maintenance. (This doesn't count the first year of his life where he ruined about a half dozen pairs of my shoes, ate Maddie's poop and barfed it up all over the house and on furniture, and ruined a practically new coffee table by chewing all four corners down to nubs while he was teething.)

Before we got Ben, we had MY dog Maddie, and TY's dog Snoopy. Ben is OUR dog. We got him together. We split the cost of him right down the middle when we found him about three months before we got engaged. (I can't believe I bought a dog with Ty before he put a "ring on it".) His, mine, and ours.

About 6 weeks ago I got a call at work...

Ty: Hey Babe. We have a problem. (Never good.) 

Me: OK - what's up?

Ty: I was walking the dogs this morning and noticed that Ben's butt hole is really red and swollen. I think something is wrong with his anal glands. (Two words I have always hated - "anal" and "glands".)

Me: Oh man. That sucks. When are you taking him to the vet. (Obviously.)

Ty: Babe, I can't. I have to be in Tacoma in an hour. (In other words, "Can you help for once?")

Me: Umm.......... uhhhhhhhhhhh..... (as I see that I am in back to backs for five hours straight) OK, I will make it work. I will clear my calendar for the afternoon and head home.

The short of it is this. About 2 hours (and $120) later I was at the vet with the poor kid as Dr. Kanahwhahshsahdjasa tended to an infected anal gland. Luckily the thing burst while she was eye to eye with it and not me. (I did however get a good look at it after wards. I know, that's disgusting.)

Spring forward to this past Sunday. I'll set the scene. It's about 70 degrees out, sunny and lovely. We took Maddie and Ben (Snoopy was at the Beach with Grandma and Grandpa Jensen) to a near by park in our neighborhood. Ben is absolutely addicted to fetch. Addicted may just be an understatement. After about 20 minutes of constant ball throwing and fetch, we decided it was time to go. Just then we noticed Ben's back foot bleeding. Ty scooped him up and I saw it. A dangling, bloody nail almost completely pulled out of the quick. UGH! We made our way home in a haze. I was practically in tears over this. I know Ty was too. We both just felt so bad for our baby. 

The next 30 minutes are ridiculous after reflecting on the events. We get home. Ty sits down on the garage floor with Ben. I run inside with Maddie to get a bowl of water and a first aid kit. I come out to the garage and I don't know who's panting/sweating more - Ty or Ben. Ty still has the "diaper bag" on (that's what we call the backpack we take on walks because it holds all our dog related items like water / water bowl, balls, and poop bags - with three dogs we Ty has to tote around a lot of crap) so I take it off of him. We go back and forth for a minute trying to figure out what to do. Ty then sends me on a wild goose chase to find some nail clippers - because obviously human nails are just like a dog's. Um, no. (If you recall from an earlier post, Ty doesn't appreciate where I choose to clip my nails so he has to hide these from me.) After a long 20 second search in the kitchen I go back out to announce that they are no where to be found. While I am out there he tells me he is going to go check to see if a nearby pet clinic is open but that he needed his keys. I walk inside and can't find them on the counter because they are actually upstairs in "his room" (the spare bedroom where he houses his clothes). We swap spots back outside in the garage. I take Ben and sit on the ground while he speeds off to check the pet clinic. 

Problem #1 - He DRIVES to go check to see if it's open. It's almost as if we live in Amish Country and he has to get the wagon ready to go to Merle's for a cup of locally grown barley. 

Problem #2 - He leaves without the dog. 

10 minutes later he gets home to tell me what I already know but didn't have enough common sense to realize before he left. They are closed. Weird. 

In the meantime, I have since texted our fantastic friends (and neighbors - how convenient) Jay & Lisa in my haze. They had this really great idea. Google a local emergency vet clinic and CALL to see if they are open. 

We try this and learn that only one is open and it's in Lake City and costs $98 just to get in. We look at each other and go back and forth and decide we should wrap it up since it's stopped bleeding and wait until the morning to get him into our vet in Kirkland. I then drive (my turn) to Bartell's to get some items to wrap his little foot. Note picture below.

- Ben with his poorly wrapped paw -

Needless to say, the evening was eventful. Ty and I even squeezed in a little fight. Good times. (We obviously made up an hour later, as usual.)

Ty took Ben to the vet yesterday morning first thing. Both he and Ty walked out of there with less than what they walked in with. Ty was out $200 and poor Ben was minus a nail. 

In the end, all is fine and good. We have a puppy on pain meds and a professionally wrapped paw.

- I might work out tonight -

Pajama Jeans

I'll cut to the chase. I am about 15 pounds heavier than I was when I got married. 15 pounds?! Is it my Freshman year of college again, or what? I'd like to call it the FIRST YEAR FIFTEEN.

I guess I can understand. When Ty and I started dating I was all about impressing him. New outfits for Saturday night's out, shaved legs, cute hair, consistent trips to the gym, manicures, pedicures, brow waxes, half eaten meals, etc. Of course there have been phases in the last 4 years where I've gotten, shall we say, comfortable... nothing like this though. As soon as we got engaged, I had the big day on the brain. I had wedding dress shopping to do and dress fittings to attend that were bi-monthly reminders of our big day in May. Those kept me on track as we got closer and closer to the wedding.

Flash forward to this past November. I cancelled my gym membership because I thought that if I bought a treadmill I'd be good to go. Nope. It's collecting dust, just like everyone told me it would. I have probably worked out 10 times since November. That's roughly 1.67 times per month. Yep, sounds about right. I started taking the elevator up the three flights of stairs at work because "it's faster" and because "I don't like being out of breath for the first 5 minutes of my meetings up there". Perhaps the latter excuse should have been a key indicator that I needed to get more than 1.67 workouts in per month.

I know most of you saw this coming.

Last week I decided to try XGym. It's a 20 minute workout twice a week with a personal trainer. It costs $300 per month. I wanted to cry twice in the 20 minute session. The session was free. I wanted to cry because it hurt so bad. Imagine how hard the workout would be if I actually signed up. (I didn't by the way.) In the first free session they are trying to get you to WANT to do it, not want to cry.

This all brings me to the title of this blog.

While you may think those are jeans, they aren't. They are jammies. "Pajama Jeans" are obviously the new thing and totally made for people like me. I just pictured myself wearing these to work. Could you imagine? "Cute pants! Are those new?" "Sure are - they are actually sweats that look like jeans. Pretty genius right?!" Wow. 

As much as I'd like to try these out, I think I'd prefer to put on a pair of tennis shoes, go for a walk, and skip the peanut butter M&Ms tonight. And the fudge. And the raspberry bars I made this weekend. And maybe, just maybe, the three hours worth of shows I've recorded on my DVR...

Feelin' the Love One Year Later

Tomorrow is our 1 year wedding anniversary and I feel like I finally just realized that I am married. What's wrong with me!??!?!

Since Friday, when I realized that this time last year we were heading to Maui to get hitched, I have been super emotional. I feel like since the weekend, I keep replaying our fantastic time in Maui, especially the time leading up to the wedding. I catch myself (practically hourly) thinking back to one year ago - asking myself silly questions like "what were we doing 1 year ago exactly?" or "what time is it in Maui right now?" or "I wonder if someone else is getting ready for their wedding in the White Orchid Beach House right now" or "I wonder if anyone is crashing someone's rehearsal dinner right now at Feast at LeLe?" That last one just hit because believe it or not, that is EXACTLY what was happening one year ago this hour. (Below is a picture of my parents trying to distract me from the whole thing, while Ty's clearly watching his back.)

Our wedding was so special. It was exactly what we wanted. It's been fun (and emotional, obviously!) to look back on that day. I love to think about it in slow motion. I remember waking up with Annie at 6am in her and Dumond's condo. (We made the boys stay in ours!) She went to McDonald's and got us a nice and healthy breakfast for the big day ahead while I wrote in Ty's wedding day card. I was so composed, for once in my life. (Perhaps that's why I am a mess now. It only took me one year to get emotional about our wedding day!) I didn't cry that day. (A lot of this has to do with the fact that we had a "scene" at our rehearsal dinner the night before [noted above] that was a distraction that I'd rely on any time I felt myself tearing up. I'd just say, "Seriously, can you believe what happened last night?!" and the potential tears would vanish. Voila!) Annie and I played cards on the patio while we watched the adorable gay couple that owned the condo we were staying in do yoga together below. (They decided to come to Maui and stay in a different condo in the complex after they rented it out to the Dumond's!) While we killed time, we did have to do a quick "project". An old college friend of mine, Steve Moore, who is an amazing wedding planner/dress maker/veil maker/cake designer now made my wedding veil two days before we left for our trip out of the goodness of his own heart. He knew I wanted a cathedral length, but made it extra long and said that I could have Annie "just cut it". (He obviously didn't remember the time I had Annie cut bangs for me in college. The last time I told Annie to "just cut it" I ended up rusty sticky scissors in my hair and jagged "bangs". Despite the bang incident, she cut my veil perfectly!) From there, the rest of the day went just as perfectly. No tears, no drama, no spills, no falls. Nothing but love. It was perfect. Ty was adorable. He wrote the sweetest vows, looked amazing, and made the day so much more than I could have ever wanted for us. Our families and friends were fantastic. While the group was small, it was just what we pictured. And lucky for us, our incredible wedding photographers captured the day amazingly.



This year has been the most exciting and special year. I think what is overwhelming me the most is just that. So much happens in one year, and time goes by so fast. Ty and I are more in love than we were on our wedding day and that just amazes me. You don't realize that on that day, your day, that you will actually love each other more than you did in that moment.

We'll be celebrating our anniversary in our second favorite place tomorrow - Cannon Beach with our pups! We are staying at our favorite place, Ocean Lodge!

Well, I feel better. I can't wait for another year with my husband (it still feels weird to say that) and all of the love and memories we'll experience together.

I am such a sap. I promise, I will be back to my old sarcastic self in my next post.

Dinner's Ready & Nobody's Home

Remember this post?

I have another one to add. I love it when I make dinner for us, by the time Ty says he'll be home, only to wait around for him as I drool over the meal I just bent over backwards to make. (Exaggeration Alert: This really only took 30 minutes to make when I thought it would take an hour. Needless to say, I am still working on my timing.) 

Now I am left here to:

• Stress over the croutons in the salad turning soggy - because I added the dressing too soon. I should have just waited to add it right before we sat down to eat. Patience is no virtue in this house. 
• Worry that I can't find the perfect balance of keeping the chicken warm and cooking it until it cracks open like the turkey on Christmas Vacation. 
• Watch as the artichokes turn brown in the steamer. 
• Perhaps just eat without him. 

And just so you all know, I had to step away from the computer just now because something smelled as if it caught on fire. That something happened to be the artichokes in the pan with no water left.

Cheers!







 

Domesticity at it's Finest

 

 

I am in love. With this cook book. Seriously, it's the best cook book I have ever used. What's to love, you ask? 

• It has pictures for every recipe. My "versions" obviously look identical to the pictures. In case you were wondering, I have provided a picture below.
• The recipes are broken up in SEASONS. How cool is that? It's Spring. So I go to the Spring section and off I go - making a festive Spring meal. 
• I can follow the recipes without screaming half way through. And they are good! I have made the apricot/goat cheese stuffed chicken. A cinch. I made the dried cherry spinach salad. Even easier. I made the grilled asparagus. Devine. 

Here's my attempt at the Spinach Salad with Dried Cherries.

Voila! See? I did pretty good, right? Right??

I have gone through this "I like to cook" phase before. Don't be fooled. I have tried being domestic prior to marriage but it never really stuck. However, a year into being hitched, I think maybe, just maybe, I have found my new calling. Domestic Goddess.


Want proof?

Wait for it... 

Isn't this the cutest thing? Please note, the very first card Ty ever got me was covered in those little hearts. He has toned it down over the years, trust me.

Don't tell him I posted this. I'll never get a card again.