Mayhem.

Okay. I have to start off this post by telling you I'm a total wreck. Like major, total, complete (enter additional synonyms) wreck. I'm 37.5 weeks pregnant. Most of our house is a demolished construction zone. I have a mini-fridge in our bedroom. There are huge unopened boxes of furniture that needs to be assembled sitting in our front room. There are piles of things I have no idea what to do with everywhere I look, because I can't put them in their proper place. The kitchen will be destroyed in the next couple of weeks. I have no idea where anything is. Anything! I've lost my mind. Before you start calling us bad names, I just want you to know we started this whole process before I got pregnant. And before Jason was called as Bishop. We were meeting with the architect for this renovation in January people. January! What is with this all taking so long to get the ball rolling?!? Figuring the plans, hiring a contractor, permits, yada yada yada. Then we found out in March that another baby was on the way,  and in May Jason got called as Bishop. I belong in a loony bin. I've been bawling over everything. And Jason usually takes Lucy to school in the morning (first grade) but he's in San Diego today. So I loaded up all the girls and took her over and sat there parked in front of her school watching her walk in. I was suddenly filled with such immense unexpected sadness watching her walk away. I stayed until I couldn't see her anymore. She isn't with me for most of the day now. It's mid-October and everyone told me sending your kid to first grade was hard for the first couple of weeks with them gone all day but then you get over it. I'm still not over it. We've been at it for almost two solid months! And I miss her so bad. Every single day. She is my soft-spoken little lamb. Ugh this "parenting kids who grow up" thing is so exhilarating to be a part of. And it sucks too. Real bad. 

I need to recap the rest of our summer. Because baby girl number 4 is making her grand entrance into this life so soon. And we both know I won't be back for some time. I'll be hibernating in my pajamas snuggling a newbie, covered in spit up with smeared make up down my face… if any ever makes it on my face. Good to know that'll be the sole purpose of applying it. For smearage. 

Okay, let's visit the last few months in photographs, shall we? Because we know I don't have the brain capacity to write everything out in vivid detail. 

This is what our family home evenings look like:

And this is what our family scripture study looks like:

This is what most of our family pictures look like:

 

This is what a perfectly formed cranium looks like in utero (isn't she absolutely the loveliest?!) : 

 

Lucy and Scarlett still love our chickens, (Isla is still deathly afraid of them):

Oh and they've started trapping their own raccoons. If you missed this story, it's a goodie. They dragged this trap out, set it themselves, put orange slices in it and everything. I myself don't know how to set this trap. And I didn't know orange slices were good for trapping coons. And I didn't know this was happening. Until Jason found a big guy in there the next morning. I'd say he looks sufficiently humbled and repentant. 

And they're still letting me dress them in matching outfits. I'm doing this as long as I possibly can, just to be clear. 

 This is what our summers/early falls look like:

Here are some hilights of our trip (Christensen family retreat with Jason's side of the family) to Duck Creek in July:

Here are a few shots from Lucy's 6th birthday party. Every 6 year old girl dreams of a reptile show. Don't act like you didn't know that.

 

 A few highlights from our trip to the Oregon coast in August:

Bidding farewell to the ocean

And what we came home to:

My Lucia's first day of first grade and my Scarlett's first day of 4 year old preschool:

Then enter BYU football season and my first time ever shooting a shotgun

Turning 31 years old... Jason took me to the spa for massages at the Grand America, to dinner at their buffet there and he ruined a perfectly good birthday selfie.

 

Which leads us up basically to here and now.  Guys, pray for me. Pray I'll make it through this construction and the rest of this pregnancy and labor and delivery and raising these babies up that have been entrusted to me. Because I'm hanging onto sanity by a thread here. No joke.

A random hodgepodge of an update. Surprised?

Okay kiddies, I did a little ditty on KUTV this morning on "gym bag essentials"... and in case you're after any of the products I talked about, here's where you can find them:

1. Celsius Pre-workout Beverage:

-Drink Celsius 15-20 minutes before hitting the gym to power up

-Celsius is scientifically proven to burn additional calories, reduce body fat and boost your metabolism.

www.celsius.com

2. Hope Paige Silicone Watch:

-Comes in 4 colors and a bright rubber material that is durable and waterproof

-All watches come engraved with wearer’s medical information in case of an emergency

www.hopepaige.com

3. 4id’s PowerBudz Ear buds:

-4id has created “glow” headphones that work during nighttime runs or at the gym while working out

-Buds come in 4 colors and 3 settings: pulse, flash, and off – so you can use them any time of day.

www.4id.com 

4. CENergy’s Amino Plex:

-Amino Plex reduces soreness, elevates ATP levels and promotes additional fat burn as well as increases future endurance levels

-Take one scoop with water, milk or in a smoothie after a workout

www.cenergynutrition.com 

5. Medifast Chewy Protein Bar:

-Comes in two flavors: Cookie Dough Chewy Bar and Peanut Butter Chocolate Chip Chewy Bar

-110 calories, 3 grams of fat, 11 grams of protein, 24 vitamins and minerals per serving and are kosher dairy

www.medifast1.com 

6. ColdEeze Cold Remedy Oral Spray:

-Oral Spray is Clinically proven to shorten the duration of a cold by almost half

-Great for gym-goers 12 and up

coldeeze.com 

And here's the segment itself in all its glory:

Gym Bag Essentials | KUTV.com 

It was a fun time! I do think it's pretty hilarious that they asked me to talk about products that will help get your "beach body" ready... when all summer long I will be a beached whale. Not being unkind to myself at all, it's just how everyone feels whilst pregnant. But don't you worry. I fully embrace it! I've been going to my aerobics and xtend barre classes in maxi dresses and moo moos and theyre here to stay all summer long! I actually went into macey's the other day for some groceries in a huge pink nightgown that says "Super Mom" across the chest. That's just how I roll. 

This summer is so incredibly jam packed for us. I don't know why towards the end I got all anxious for the school year to get out so our family could "relax" and "take it easy". That idea is just delusional. We've been running around like chickens with our heads cut off... (no pun intended... and that won't even be funny in a minute when I tell you what recently happened at our house). 

My husband did the dirty dash with some of his work people a couple weeks ago and we made the trek up to Soldier Hallow. And while I was originally signed up to do it with him, I opted out when I realized a baby bump was on its way. I couldn't quite see myself doing an obstacle course/slip 'n slide through several feet of mud in this condition. I was happy to make the drive through Provo canyon though.

 And here's our favorite boy after the finish line!!! Now, I know I said this already on instagram, but I feel that it merits repeating on the blog, in case I'm prone to forget. 

*Dearest future Meradith, I just want to remind you what this is like... Especially if you're pregnant, to sit and bake in the sun for 3 hours waiting... Waiting for him to start the race, waiting for him to run the race, waiting for him to stand in horrendously long lines afterward to get hosed off... Let me remind you that there's no shade anywhere in site at this place and your kids will be real grumpy and then so will you. And you'll have one child that will run away from you when you're distracted for five seconds trying to spot your husband in the miles of covered-in-mud clone participants and then you will have to search through hoards of more covered-in-mud clones for a good 10-15 minutes yelling for said child with her sister and praying/cursing her name in your heart. And then you'll find her petting a dog off the beaten track and you'll be forced to admit to the dog's owner that you might have to "kill this child" upon retrieving her...But then you'll have to wipe all curmudgeoness off your face and shout hooray when he comes back with friends and co-workers, because you're proud of him, darn it, and this is all about having fun and you're being a real Debbie Downer. I'm just sayin... maybe you could get sick next year when this race comes to town. Get really really sick. And while we're at it, just don't be pregnant again next summer. Don't even think about it.

Aside from all that, we had a real blast I tell you!

Remember how I can't blog without telling you a story about our chickens? Well we lost one recently:(. A big golden lab that was visiting our next door neighbor jumped over our fence and killed on of our best layers, Zoe. I'm telling you, I'm not cut out for this stuff. I'm no farm woman. I'm no pioneer. I don't deal with death very well, of anything. There I was, yelling at my kids to stay inside to keep them from seeing that poor hen on the grass while I bustled around trying to herd the other three. But then I had to tell them what happened. And my tender hearted Lucy sobbed and howled for two hours straight. And then woke up the next morning throwing up and cried some more. She kept sobbing, "Zoe!!! She's really super dead! She's dead! My heart is broken!" I kept a straight face for her but don't think I didn't burst into ugly face sobs as soon as I was out of her sight. Not for the chicken necessarily, but for her broken heart! But maybe just a little for both. I mean come on, I talk big sometimes but I'm terribly soft.  We cry a lot in our family. We laugh as much as we cry, but both are a lot. Whew.

Here she is holding Zoe's last egg.

Thankful my husband came home early from church meetings to rescue his little daughter from her despair and give that hen a proper burial. He's the best. And then we all gathered around and sang, Oh Zoe girl in the tune of Oh Danny Boy. Oh man I wish we really would have now that I come to think of it. 
RIP Zoe. You know I've heard all my life that all chickens go to heaven, and you're lucky I didn't take you off the earth myself that time I came running outside to my baby Isla screaming because you had her backed up against a tree trying to hen peck the dickens outta her. I'm sorry I chased you around the yard trying to club you with a heavy tree branch in my Sunday dress, and I'm sorry for when I actually did club you and send you flying into the air like a grand slam hit outta the park. Well, I'm not actually that sorry, because you were attacking my baby, but what I'm saying is I hope we can be friends on the other side and laugh about it all, and we can hi-five (hi-wing) about all of our memories. 

Be prepared to be shocked.

Just kidding, you won't be shocked at all! I'll be darned, you can just call me Marmee, we're having another little sister! Another wee lass to add to this lineup! FOUR sisters! ha! Whenever I imagine a baby of mine, it's always been a girl so that's sortof what's naturally come to mind. So we're actually not surprised. We happen to think our itty girls are the epitome of the bees knees. Creams of the crop. The cat's meow. You get it. 

Can I add a disclaimer here? Somethin' I've just had a hankering to get off my chest? People think they're being really original saying something like, "Just wait til their teenagers! You'll be hatin' life!" (hi five) or, "Oh man think of all of that PMS!" (hi ten). They're not original, guys. And not even funny. We might lead them into a false sense of security because maybe we'll give them a courtesy laugh. But if you know us, you know our real laughs. And that ain't it. We've already heard it all with three little girls. Every time we go into public! Can we just think about mood swings when we have to? Can we please revel in their sweetness and daintiness? Can we enjoy matching dresses in sets of four for now while we can!? You think they're gonna let me dress them forever?!? You think they're gonna think matching each other is cool forever?! You think you're better than me?!? So give us a break! Let us enjoy them and be excited to add another sissy. I'm sorry, but as far as my family goes, it was my brothers as teenagers who gave my parents the most headache. We girls have always been exemplary members of society! Just kidding. We obviously had our fair share of teenageitis. But if we were to go down the list of bone-headed moves, the boys had us beat. Even though I was a pretty big bone-head. Who says, "bone-head" anyway? I don't, but I like it. Point is, the nurse at my OBGYN office said, "I'm so sorry," when I told her... and I nearly did the flying squirrel across the front desk and grabbed her by the collar. Instead I opted to just tell her, "I'm not."
I know people have good intentions, it just gets old. And I'm sure moms with lots of boys think the same thing.

More sugar and spice! More ribbons and curls! Also, I really do want you to start calling me Marmee. That's a legitimate request.

Ahem.

I don't know if people even blog much anymore. I mean I know a few in my circle who do faithfully... and those I still read. But it just isn't what it used to be. Instagram and FB are just so much faster and life is a highway, baby. I personally wanna ride it all night long. You're welcome, btw. For getting that in your head instead of Do you wanna build a snowman. Even though the analogy doesn't really work.

 Facebook's been sortof bothering me lately though. I feel like Fb likes have become so diminished in their meaning. They just seem to be trite now-adays. You used to know that someone genuinely liked your status when they'd give you the old thumbs up. But now it means so many things. Because people announce their grandmothers passing and there's 67 likes. I don't like it when people pass away. These are some of the many decipherings of FB (and instagram) likes as I've come to learn:

• I genuinely like this post.
• I didn't read this post at all but I like you.
• I'm so sorry. 
• This is inspiring.
• This totally sucks that this happened to you but the way you wrote about this made me laugh.
• This totally sucks that this happened to you but I like your outfit in this pic.
• I'm here for you. 
• I didn't read this post (actually have no idea what this is even about!) but I was supposed to call you back forever ago and never did so this is how I'm trying to compensate.
• We used to date and sometimes I online stalk you just for fun, not because I'm unhappily married, and I accidentally liked your pic one time trying to make it bigger on my phone but forgot that IG doesn't work that way and now I'm mortified trying to decide whether to let the "like" stay or to unlike it because what if you've already seen it?? Huh??? Which I have actually been on the other end of... happened to be trolling online precisely when a "like" from someone unexpected came through... only to have it vanish seconds later. And then it's awkward. Let's own our likes people.

All in all, I just like blogging so much more. But when I talk about blogging in a social setting, sometimes people make me feel like I'm carrying around a discman and my pack of CDs, even though I know people are still blogging. Lots of great people. Just as they should be.

I mostly wish I was still blogging as much as I used to. Here's to trying.

I actually told Jason the one thing I wanted for Mother's Day was a 3ish hour block of time to write a blogpost. (I'm thinking of starting to call it a blost. Because we all know that "blog" came from condensing web-log. We dropped the "we" and made blog. I so hope that the english language becomes one condensed blob of sounds. So no one has to actually ever say full sentences. I could say "I-ingore" and everyone would know I meant, "I'm going to the store". Life would be so easy.) So last Saturday morning, I sat down and started composing this here blost. (You just wait, it's gonna catch like wildfire!) The only sound I could hear the entire morning was a lawn mower in the distance and my fingers pecking away at this here keyboard. It was a marvelous thing. Not permanently. But yes, when it's sparingly, it's completely sublime.

I really need to start writing more frequently because my brain is turning to mush, as was recently demonstrated at a family baby shower during a game of scattegories (watch it, Cathy.) And I've been sitting here trying to decide how much of the last four months (since I've written) I want to try to cover in this post and then panicking because I'm wasting time thinking instead of just writing and getting 'er done. Because that door's gonna come swinging open sooner than later and the circus will return. Literal circus. Elephants, ring master, fiery hoops... all of it.

So, a couple more things to update you on. You already know we're expecting baby girl number 4. Four kids seem like so many more than three. I still think of myself as a new mom here, folks. I'm still trying to figure out diaper rash aren't I? What is happening in the world.  I'm almost 16 weeks. Exciting! Super exciting now that I'm past the worst part of the whole charade. The part where you barf into the kitchen sink without any notice at all. Hopefully that's completely behind us (me). Just like saying "we're" pregnant, right? ImeanamIright?!

Something note-worthy: I sent this picture to my mom at 8 weeks pregnant. 8 weeks! like I'd only known for a few weeks we were expecting again. Does everyone remember how early 8 weeks is? Okay I just want to emphasize that.  I sent this to her to remind her of the glory that was coming my way once again. Because I'm obviously full of glory here.

Here's the real kicker folks. The real kicker. She texted me back, my very own mother, and asked, "Meradith is that you right now?!?" At 8 weeks pregnant. Let me clarify, this was THE DAY before going into labor with Isla. Like hours before giving birth. I was astounded and awe-struck at her question. And I just didn't even know how to proceed. All I could do was maniacally laugh. For hours. Hours and hours on end. And then finally mustered, "No, Mom. That was the day I pushed Isla out of my body, remember how Isla weighed 8 pounds 9 ounces?" to which she responded, "Oh.. I was gonna say, she's for sure having twins." As if that justifies it! Give this bod a little more credit, ma!

I actually look like this right now. This isn't an intentional "belly" pic, and it was from this last week, not eight weeks preg.

 

The reason I took this picture was to share with a close associate that I had successfully worn the same outfit 4 times in a row that week. That the only time I was forced out of pajamas for any outing, this was ready and waiting for me. Because 1. dressing yourself and discovering every single week that what you reach for to put on no longer fits you is not fun. and 2. When you're pregnant, you've gotta minimize. Big time. You won't see me much without a beanie on these days because I'm not expending the energy to do my hair. And when you run into me at the grocery store, I'll probably be wearing this outfit. Anyway, no one even said a thing to me that week. Which makes me believe I could get away with wearing the very. same. exact. outfit day after day for the rest of my life without my husband noticing a thing. It's baffling and comforting all at the same time. Ignore my sinister eyebrows in this pic. It's just another part of my look lately, as it was when I was 39 weeks pregnant in the previous pic.

Another important item on the agenda are birthday celebrations. Scarlett turned 4 years old last month, Isla turned two 8 days later and we spent 4 days in between in Chicago with Honeywell Security. Buzzzzzzzzzzz. As in bees. As in busy bees. Don't let that go over your head.

We threw a joint birthday bash for Scarlett and Jason's sister Cathy... they share April 21st. 4 going on 40 we called it... and it was a costume masquerade ball of sorts. We haven't got the pictures back from that yet... but I'll post more when we do. It was quite the evening. Here's one of little sis on her special day. Oh Scarlett Marie. You should have your own show someday (or right now), like Lucille Ball.

 

 And here's Jason and me. We don't really like to go all out for these kinds of things so we just found something old lying around in our closet... I told Jason he was being a major poor sport for just wearing one of his church suits but you just can't get expect everyone to get into this stuff. Oh well.

 

Here we are in Chi-town for a romantic spring get-away. 42 degrees on that Saturday.

Jason also had his very first pedicure while we were in Chi-town.  It's a big deal when you have the world's most ticklish feet. I included a short video clip from that... as well as a couple other clips. Because I'm realizing a pattern when I pull out the camera with my husband. Just notice how each of these clips conclude.

 Bludgeoning.

Isla June started our her birthday kind rough. She found her first grey that morning. Getting older is hard.

 

I can't believe she is two!!! She is the most joyful babe. This little age... and her exploding little vocabulary.. is so scrumptious. Most of the time. This one has my heart.

 Next on the agenda: an update on our chickens. Since they deserve their own blog, right. Eye roll. We've been wanting to get rid of our rooster for some time. We gave a couple of our hens to Jason's parents, and they've adjusted quite nicely. But only having four hens has left our rooster quite... unsatisfied. Which is really unfortunate because it makes me not like him. Because I feel like he's a deviant. Now I know you say animals can't be deviants in that way... but I happen to have a couple monkey stories as well as a dog (I won't name names) that would convince you otherwise. Point is- our hens are getting beat up. Like bald patches on their backs. And it's been really making me mad. So, as nice as he is as far as roosters go- he had to get the boot. Jason and I have been trying to figure out how to do this for weeks. Til one day, I went outside after Jason and the girls had been working out there, to have Lucy cheerily tell me, "Mom, the rooster's found a new home." So I look at her dad. "What'd you do with the rooster?" Jason (like the Godfather): Don't worry about it. (Think thick new york accent). Me: Honey, really what happened? Jason: Just don't ask questions. He found a new home and we won't have to worry about him anymore. He's fine. 

At that point I decide I won't ask anymore questions... he's being so illusive and mysterious. Did he really just hack our rooster? Haul him off to a butcher? I can't really expect details in front of our girls if he did. So I decide I'll be content with solving the mystery a little later that day when we're alone.

Until a few minutes later when I'm planting in our garden and Jason's assembling his new BBQ (third one I might add- all with specific functions and purposes, alright?) that in the distance I hear a distinct crow. Like a familiar crow. Our rooster's crow. I jerk my head to Jason and he to me. And his eyes are all bugged out and shifty. Me: That's our rooster crowing. Him: No it's not. Me: Ummm yes it is. Where did you put him?? (laughing now) Did you just go dump him on our neighbors yard? (another crow) Him: Dang it I guess I didn't carry him far enough away.

So I'm sortof laughing to myself in amusement. And then the crowing's getting considerably louder. Closer. And Lassie's finding his way home. What do we do at this point? Do we try to hide from him? Do we say, Oh sorry about that buddy... you found your way home! Hooray! Do we act like nothing happened? Then I get a text from our neighbor about our rooster staggering around drunk behind her house on the trail to the beaver pond. OK she didn't exactly say that but that's how it went in my mind. Me: Jason, he's just wandering around back there behind our fence! I'm going to get him. Jason: No, don't. He's found a new home. He's gone now. !!!!!!! Everyone in our neighborhood knows those chickens are ours! Like we can just be like, "Nah... that's not our rooster... sorry." I did tell him next time he just planned on following the trail to the beaver pond to lose an animal, he's gotta blind fold him while walking out and spin him around at least three times before dumping him off.

Our rooster came back. Just hopped right over the fence and resumed mating with one of our hens. Sigh.

 Can I confess something? That actually might be the only actual shocker in this entire blost? I don't feel "farm-fresh" eggs are that much better tasting from store bought. I know... I KNOW! I want to tell people when they ask how much better they are. I want to tell them you can taste the difference in the nutrients and the darker color just makes me feel so much better about eating them versus store bought. But let me be honest here. I have to remove chicken poop from these eggs every. single. time they're gathered. And even if the store bought ones paled in comparison as far as taste goes, I might just rather have them anyway so I could avoid what I have to suffer with the chicken poop. Especially while pregnant and nauseated. And then you're just supposed to crack 'em open and chow down. Mmmmm! That didn't make me lose my appetite at all! Ugh maybe I'm just not granola/pioneer woman enough for all this. And don't let these girls fool you. They love the chickens.  

But begged for a puppy dog for Christmas. And when Jason told them We already have chickens...  you'll have to prove yourself with the chickens first, Lucy said to me, "Mom I love to eat chicken. I think we should eat our chickens and get a dog." Bone-chilling how quickly they'll turn on you.

Good news is, we won't be skewering our rooster anytime soon, despite Lucy's savagery. Because he found a new home on a farm in Payson. And I'm sure he's lovin' life. Because they have lots more hens. (On a downer note- they also have a much bigger, meaner looking rooster--think Little Jerry-- they told me they were offing and they'd keep the boys separated. Hopefully that's happened so Hans can have his pick).

That brings us to the end of this blost. Big hug little kiss.

Another Year's Come and Gone

Can you believe I haven't written in over three months? Can you believe I ended last post implying I'd be posting again very shortly? That was a good joke, huh? Can't believe you all fell for it. I got you good. Let's all throw our heads back and have a good hearty laugh about this now. If we were hanging out I might even throw a bowl of peanuts into my face. 

I reference that scene from Dumb and Dumber a lot, but what you don't understand is that it's

it's my favorite thing to visualize. I'd say I spend anywhere from 77 to 93% of each day visualizing throwing a bowl of peanuts in my face while the room roars with laughter. And someday I'm gonna do it. I'm gonna take the plunge and JUST. DO. IT.

Seriously my head's about to implode. What is it with this time of year and head colds? We all forget how miserable colds are, don't we? When we're all good and healthy? Because if someone misses work or stays in bed all day over a "cold" we think they're complete wimps, right? Am I right? Like Really? He's gonna stay home and in bed because of a little case of the sniffles? But then you're hit with one and the world is quite literally ending. Sinus pressure that could actually shoot your head right off your body... send it soaring high into the air... like 15 or 20 feet I'm talking. Sore throat. Cough. Having to breathe through your mouth constantly due to congestion. The cotton mouth and subsequent taste left in mouth due to said cotton mouth. And then you start popping advil cold and sinus like tic tacs and you fool yourself into thinking you're getting better because you're masking the symptoms and then you try to do something like go for a run and you realize you might have the lowest IQ on the planet for making that decision.

Bleh. It's all utter misery. Real misery. I'm gonna try to remember this next time I'm tempted to mock someone for complaining about having a cold. Actually, no that's not me. It might be my husband though because he quite frankly NEVER. GETS. SICK. Which I'm happy about. Happy/jealous rage.

Before we get into the meat of this post, I'll have you know I've been desperate to get back to you, bloggy blog. I know you told me to only call you that name when we're alone but I can't help it. Don't be embarrassed. To show you how serious I am about us, I have a babysitter at my house right now. And I am here at the library. That's right, I'm paying big bucks for this time together. Because every second Isla is left unattended, she sprouts wolverine blades from her hands and destroys whatever she can in the house. She hangs by her feet on the ceiling fan and while revolving shreds around and around. You get the scene. I have plans to be a regular blogger again now that the new year is here, so be expecting that, folks. And by "new year", I mean the year my youngest child goes off to college. {Insert cry emoticon}.

I thought it was bad in my last blogpost to "wrap the summer up" in one post, and here I am starting a "wrap the rest of the year up" with some highlights I don't want to ever forget of 2013. After this update post, I'm gonna really get down to the nitty gritty of here and now. 

In August: We took my Dad on a surprise weekend get-away to Jackson Hole for his 60th birthday celebration. He'd been undergoing chemotherapy since January (still is) and hadn't really left the house during that time. So we thought we'd rent a cabin and give him a change of scenery. We thought we'd view the Tetons once more before they moved down to Arizona, which they did a few weeks after. My heart will burst even beginning to consider this year for my Mom and Dad. But this weekend in Jackson was relaxing and serene. It was perfect!

In September: Jason, family and besties threw me a most killer surprise 80's themed birthday party to commemorate leaving my 20's complete with a Thriller flash mob in my very own back yard. My parents surprised me, my pregnant Nessa flew in for the day so we could sing karaoke together, and I was so overwhelmed by it all that I ugly-face cried pretty much the entire evening. Isn't that the look we're all going for when we're in the dead center spotlight like that?

 In October: We left our baby Isla with my sissy Vanessa and flew the coop to Mexico with Lucy and Scarlett and 100 or so NorthStar employees. The girls were in heaven and the trip was amazing in every wonderful sense of the word.

 Remember that glass blowing factory we went to on our way to the beach? The one where Jason (not our three or our five year old) backed up into a glass chandelier and knocked off a bunch of hand-made pieces and broke them? And then we ran outta there faster than you can say "bull in a China shop"?

We asked to hold the large lizard, but this puny one was all they had.

Also, remember how these two are our kids second parents? Remember when that huge wave came crashing in and almost swept Lucy away and it was Merv who saved the day while her parents stood by watching? I do.

And then we came home, Autumn had officially arrived in our back yard:

  and I got to be a pubescent wizard boy for Halloween walking around stupifying everyone; "the boy who lived" if you will. Dreams come true, people. Dreams come true.

 

 In case you didn't know, Jason was Hagrid. Oh, and in case you didn't know, go get a life.

Along with a miniature wolf, cheetah, and dairy cow to boot. Makes sense.

In November, we celebrated a little something our family likes to call, "Thanksgiving". Just a crazy family tradition we started, I know, everyone thinks we're crazy. Okay but really, this year's Thanksgiving was unique because we ended up having a Friendsgiving- rented a cabin in Big Bear Cali and Christensens, Carliles and Fullmers spent the week basking in each other's good jokes, watching our girls do the worm across the kitchen dance floor, and staying up late with inquiries of Would You Rather. It was a dreamy, dreamy week surrounded by pine and crisp mountain air.

There was a little of this…

 

And a lot of this…

And have you ever seen in all your life such delectable morsels?? I daresay no.

And December brought heavy snow and sparkly lights and garland and all of the magic of the season. All of the magic of Christmas eve and Christmas morn and the spirit that resides the whole month long. And by Christmas magic, I mean the kind that has children levitating around the family room. We had an absolutely wonderful Christmas.

The day after Christmas, we forsook our freshly revealed Christmas loot, packed and bag and headed for the warmer weather. My side of the family got to be together for a week in Arizona and every single minute of it was divine. Swimming in the pool all day and s'mores around the fire pit at night. {Insert second cry emoticon.} Phew okay, this has got to be a wrap, right? That sums it up ya'll. Cheers to the New Year. 2013 had it's good, it's bad and it's ugly. But we're still here. Maybe I'll get more than like two posts in on this here blog for 2014. Wish me serious luck.