What We've been doing--a song to be sung in two part harmony

I wish I wrote songs. Then I could really tell you what we've been up to. Instead, since I'm feeling strangely attracted to the word "llama" I shall attempt to tell you our past two weeks in rhyme with that word. Luckily Alabama rhymes with llama. Okay, it doesn't really, but it's a special thing we English-teacher-strange-os like to call slant rhyme. Wait. Is it slant rhyme? Yeah, I'm going with it. Slant rhyme. So here goes:


On Wednesday the girls and I returned from Alabama-
We rode on a plane not on a llama.
Without Mike there still wasn't too much drama.


On Friday was Ragnar Relay-rama,
My team won! We were made of mostly mommas


Then on Wednesday there was drama
Girls camp girls who didn't like pajamas
On Friday I left to pick up my knight in shining armour (okay I'm really going for the slant rhyme)
Mike came home, he's such a charmer.


On Saturday we went back to Alabama-
No not really, we went to Bear Lake.

Yeah, I just couldn't pull off that last line. I guess I could say something about a lake surrounded by "farmahs" but I'm lazy.

Happy Summer!

The Crazy Woman Speaks

Thought process for choosing clothing to wear while taking a plane from Alabama to Utah: "Hmmm, I should wear a white tshirt--that will hide my stressed-out, high humidity sweat marks. But then again, that will show every teeny-tiny (or rather very large) stain from when Hannah pats me or Kenzie grabs me after she eats. Okay, I better go with the brown shirt. It hides dirt a lot better than the white one. Maybe I can just pretend that I don't sweat. It won't be that bad. Alright brown shirt, it's your turn."

Thought prcess for choosing to fly home alone with two small children: " " Yeah, there wasn't a thought process. I think I opened my mouth and let my brain fly away to its happy place.

Alright Utah, I'm coming home!

Farewell Sweat Home Alabama

No, that's not a misspelling. My Sweat Home Alabama. I believe that I mentioned that I have a constant sheen of sweat while residing here. I'd like to revise that. I have a constant dripping shower of sweat while living here. A sheen might be acceptable. Constant dripping, not so much. I sweat so much that I am pretty sure that walking outside equals running at a brisk pace for 60 minutes. For some reason this equation does not work out for my weight-loss plans. Probably because in an effort to counteract the gallons of sweat loss I have been eating gallons of ice cream, I mean "oranges."

You probably wouldn't guess it from my sarcastic posts, but I'm sad to leave. I'm sad that Mike will be staying here for another week and a half while I herd teenage girls up mountains and into tents. I'm sad that I will miss his graduation from ASBC. It's a big deal to have worked so hard for 6 weeks and to have to pass mental and physical tests and to learn to be a leader. I didn't realize what a big deal it is to complete this class. I am kicking myself over and over that I won't be here for the end of it and to watch him graduate. Mike has done really well and we're proud of him.

I've learned a lot about the Air Force and the kind of people that make up its leaders and I'm sad to leave these new friends behind. I have a new respect for people that are in the armed forces and the sacrifices they and their families make. I will miss the friends we made here and the small community that we got to be a part of for the last month. We've had bbqs, talked for hours on end, went to lunch, shared life jackets at the pool, visited the beach, went to museums, got heat exhaustion at the zoo, ate ice cream at ball games, went to the library, bemoaned our sweatiness together and had a great time in general. I'm so grateful to the moms and women I've gotten to know and had good times with. I'm in awe of their selfless sacrifices and steely nerves. I truly admire them and their husbands, and know that they will be great leaders and great families.

Here's just two of the families we've enjoyed getting to know. The Saucedas and the Francoms. We spent last weekend in Gulf Shores with them hanging out at the beach and eating sea food. It was wonderful. The Saucedas are off to Las Vegas and the Francoms will be stationed in Mississippi.

Farewell Alabama. I'll miss my sweat home.

Alabama Anniversary

Seven things that made me fall in love with Mike:

1. His very attractive arm hair (someday I will have to tell the story of our arm-hair induced first date)
2. His sincerity. At first I thought, "Is this guy for real?!" He said so many nice things to me and always knew exactly what to say. He even said he liked my glasses.
3. His kindness. Mike always made me feel comfortable and made everyone around him feel comfortable. He brought me peanut butter. He played along with my shirt stealing antics. He wrote me nice notes. He made me a good luck lunch box to take to races. He came to my races. (Although that was probably because our uniforms were so attractive.)
4. His straight-forward honesty. I wasn't worried about where I stood with him. (Except that one time when he told me I was a nice girl. I was sure it was over then)
5. His sweetness. Our first kiss was after he played me his favorite song "The Big Empty" that we slow danced to, and then he kissed me on the cheek and said, "That's the best I can do right now." And then ran away. It was wonderful. He completely melted my heart. He even wrote me a poem and learned to play the guitar so he could sing me a song.
6. His hilarity. When he wasn't melting my heart and making me feel all floaty and lovey, Mike was making me laugh. He made me a hilarious video about the stolen shirt, he put together the funniest picture album of his adventures with the pink suitcase, and he wrote a sign for my track meets that said, "My girlfriend looks hot in bummies."
7. His ability to do anything. Mike beat me in Scrabble! And he kept up with me in running. What?! I was perturbed, but I was intrigued. I love a good challenge and Mike provided some good, friendly competition.
8. His good looks. Honestly, when that boy smiled and those gorgeous eyes of his lit up in a laugh, I simply turned into a gooey mush of marshmallow creme.
Oh, that was eight! Maybe we'll consider the eighth reason a pinch to grow an inch.
Those are some of the reasons I fell in love with Mike and the reasons I fall in love with him over and over.

We celebrated 7 years of bliss by locking our keys in the rental car. What does this symbolize? That I am an expensive and complicated wife. Because it was me who locked the keys in the car. And then I locked us out of our apartment looking for the keys to the car. Luckily, our friends who were watching the girls for us lent us their car until we could pay someone $61 to slim jim it open in about 5 seconds. And luckily we're living in a hotel, where they hand out room keys as freely as the sweat on a summer day in Alabama flows. (I have about 10 keys now)

We went to dinner at a great Italian place called Carabbas and then we returned home for a romantic evening of studying and family co-habitation. We've promised ourselves a trip sans girls when we get home from Alabama. Happy Anniversary my sweet love!

Strange Alabama Afflictions

I'm melting! I'm melting! And in other news:

Kenzie has developed a mysterious and strange disease that invovles involuntarily yawning over and over and over. Do you think the doctor will look at me strangely when I try to describe this to him/her?

"Doctor! My daughter can't stop yawning! What sort of medication do they prescribe for that? What can we do to cure her? How will we ever survive?!"

"Umm nurse, this woman needs a valium."


At first I tried to be sympathetic without laughing--"Oh, I'm sorry Kenz. What can we do to fix it? Can you stop thinking about it? Do you think a piece of gum will help? I think I heard that rice krispie treats cure yawns."

I gave her all the cures, then I sent her back to quiet time, feeling like I had successfully dealt with the problem.

Then she started hitting the wall and crying, "I HATE yawning. I HATE yawning!" while she opened her mouth over and over in pseudo yawns. So much for the placebo effect.

That was a few days ago and this "terrible disease" continues to haunt us. She says at least four times a day, "Mom, I'm going to yawn. I need a piece of gum. I just hate yawning! I really need a piece of gum," and then she breaks into crying. She's really upset about it. When I tell her that I have already given her a pack of gum that day to prevent the yawning there is wailing and moaning and gnashing of teeth.

Since we are quickly running out of tooth enamel and gum, I tried to convince her that a glass of water cures yawning too. Now she demands water and gum all of the time to prevent the yawning. I blame this on myself. And Mike. Somehow it has to be his fault.

I've tried discussing voluntary and involuntary reactions with her: "Kenz, a yawn is something you can control. It's a voluntary action (don't google this and tell me I'm wrong. I can't take it). Just like me spanking you for yawning and crying about it too much is a voluntary reaction. Neither of us wants this to happen, so let's learn to control ourselves."

I also tried telling her that if she's yawning so much she just needs to go to sleep. "I'm not tired!" she yelled at me in a charming voice. "Yawning does not mean you're tired! It's what you do when you wake up early!" Excellent argument Kenzie. Remind me to sign you up for the kindergarten debate team.

Hopefully we shall overcome this terrible disease and be able to go back to our normal, healthy selves. (snigger)

Stars fell on Alabama

Lest you think that misery and woe are all that I have gained here in Alabama, I have decided to write a post about the things I have gained from Alabama so far. And yipkiyiyee, we still have a week and a half of fun left. (Alright that sarcasm was a little overboard. It's not bad here. Really.)

Wait though, I have one more story of misery:
This morning as I stumbled the three steps from the bed to the kitchen for a glass of water at 5 a.m., the partition that I love so much jumped out and hit me. Perhaps it did not jump, per se, since I have never been very good at being spatially aware, but I swear it moved.
My cheek bone is now swollen and red. Apparently I rub my eyes a lot and touch my cheekbone, because I have been vaguely aware that it hurts every time I touch it, which you wouldn't think would be a lot but it is. I'm sure it will turn into a nice bruise and I have no point in sharing that story. Just another tale of woe. Now that that's out of the way, we're on to being cheerful and counting our blessings.

One thing that I have discovered is how much I love the way people talk around here. I like it so much that sometimes my brain tries to make my tongue imitate the accent. Which is not at all annoying or poser-like. Favorite phrases:
"Now, debt is a woolly booger." I can think of all sorts of woolly boogers that will now be called what they truly are. Actually, maybe that will become my secret superhero identity. Watch out for "THE WOOLLY BOOGER!"
"We have some kinfolk from thaar." Ahh, this was spoken with a true Southern accent. Sometimes people's speech is so thick with the South that I just look at them while my brain tries to process, process, and then I say, "oh yes," and nod even though I won't figure out what they said until I am driving away.
"Are those your babies?" Sometimes I look around me in surprise, trying to see if a stroller full of babies is sneaking up on me--only to find Kenzie and Hannah running around being obnoxious. I mean sitting quietly behind me with their arms folded. I love that they are "Babies" even though they have long since moved away from that phase.

No one has said this one out loud, but the Alabama license plate reads: Stars fell on Alabama. How poetic is that? It kind of beats, "Utah, a pretty great state."
And speaking of things not spoken out loud, Alabama has some great signs--this weekend my favorite was in big red letters on a white background it said, "Go to church! Or the devil will get you!" Also, they have a thing for strange speed limits-- 27 mph was one and the other was 24 mph. (One of those was in Tennesee I think, so maybe it's a southern thing)

Another thing I love here is the massive amounts of oxygen. There is nothing quite like air that you can taste. Sometimes I feel like I might drown in oxygen. It makes recovering after running easy-peasy and quick. And I keep telling myself that it is helping me to develop a secret reserve of oxygen that I will use to run quickly in my upcoming Wasatch Back relay race. (I have to trick myself into believing that going from sea level to mountain is good, not detrimental.)

When it rains, I don't so much as get wet as just increase my dampness. It's the kind of rain that is fun to play in--or at least to sit on a covered bench and watch your kids play in.

All in all, this is not a miserable experience. I even have some more good things to post about. All that action!, driving! and stuff!