Colorado My Home

The last time I cried was yesterday. Tears of Joy. Because the Affordable Care Act was ruled constitutional in its entirety.


I know there are many people who are not happy about this. But I am.


Tears of sadness? The other night we took Mo to her first movie. We went to see "Brave," which I loved and the baby did so well in the movie. Holly and I were dying at how cute she was when it started...she was dancing and singing with the music, I could hardly even handle it.


That isn't why I cried.


On the way home from the movie I was perusing Facebook and I was overwhelmed by the pictures of the fires in Colorado.


Colorado my home.

http://www.reverbnation.com/open_graph/song/12606394 Listen to this song. Please.


Oh, beautiful for spacious skies, for amber waves of grain! For purple mountains majesty, above the fruited plain!


I hear those lyrics and I can't help but think of my home state. It's got the best of almost everything. Pride in being from Colorado is rivaled only by people from Texas, and maybe California. In my opinion.


Coloradans are extremely protective of their open spaces. It isn't something I've experienced in other state I've been to...we are obsessed with preserving the land for various reasons, some environmental, some recreational.


And it is on fire. I am so heartbroken.


I know this happens. A lot. Unfortunately, it has happened quite a lot in my lifetime. It never gets easier to deal with. Especially when so many are happening at once, and people are losing not only the land but the homes they live in. Our favorite places and spaces, consumed.


The world may very well end in fire. It's utterly frightening. And makes me weep.

Everything is not always all right. A lot of things will never make sense to me. There are fires in Utah as well, and apparently one in Pocatello, ID now. I walk outside and it smells like a giant campfire, usually a smell we associate with fun times but it is now the haunting smell of destruction. 

Before--The Flying Ranch, Colorado Springs. Photo credit BING screen shot

After--The Flying Ranch, Colorado Springs. Photo credit RJ Sanjosti, The Denver Post

A Face to Call Home

Things that make me feel better, ALWAYS

Holly. Especially when I'm in a bad mood and she laughs and we have conversations where we both freak out about whatever we want and it is always funny. We seriously should have a reality show.

This is just to show what kind of mood I'm talking about.

Hondo. I love spending time with him, and when he snuggles me or hugs me I feel great.

If you can't tell, he makes me happy

Hugs from my mom. As someone recently told her, they are very healing hugs.

Facetime. With any or all of my sisters or Mom. Getting to see my neices always cheers me.

And, last but definitely not least, this face.

Literally the best thing ever.

Bloggity Blog Blog

Where did the word blog come from? I genuinely want to know. It's a weird word.

I must confess...I love reading blogs. I find them extremely entertaining. And I have quite a few that I follow regularly. So I'm breaking them down into categories.

Category 1: My Family's Blogs

Mom's: mahanthing.blogspot.com
Jen's: whatnowjen.blogspot.com
Stef's: thenashgriffiths.blogspot.com
Holly's: theglems.blogspot.com

I highly recommend each of these, especially if you are at all interested in getting to know any of my sisters or Mom better. I know that Hondo has really enjoyed reading all of our blogs as we've been doing this challenge together, and just told me last night how much he appreciates getting to know my family better through this forum (he said, in so many words.)

Category 2: Other People I know, Who's Blogs I Stalk Read

Amy Reeves: amyandcary.blogspot.com  Amy and I went to high school together, but I don't know if we ever actually spoke. We're friends on Facebook, which is how I started reading her blog, and I must say she is quite amusing.

Matt Reichman: http://www.mattreichman.com/ The brother of Amy who I just mentioned. Also went to high school, also have never spoken and he probably doesn't even know who I am. But I'm counting it as someone I know. He writes a column for the Springville, UT newspaper and also posts those articles on his blog.

Ali Rettedal: thejarettedal.blogspot.com A friend from high school, who I don't always agree with but inspires me nonetheless. She's a great mom and very dedicated to her beliefs.

I'm sure I have other friends who have blogs that I don't read, and if you think that I should, please send me the link to your blog! I will read it, a lot. I promise.

Category 3: Guilty Pleasures/Hilarious People

Suri's Burn Book: A study in Suri and the people who disappoint her
If you enjoy celebrity gossip you'll probably laugh at this blog. It's a ghost writer for "Suri Cruise," who is basically critiquing and criticizing other celebrity children.

One Forty Plus: John Mayer's blog. I don't think this needs further explanation.

The Weed: I recently found this blog because of his recent coming out post. He has been married for 10 years and is an active member of the LDS community, who is gay. The post is long, but his story is interesting and worth the read, if you're up for it. But as I went back through some of his previous posts, I was laughing literally out loud at his daughter the therapist and Bambi nuggets.

The Bloggess: This lady cracks me up. But I must warn you, she does not hold back. There is swearing and some inappropriate discussion on her blog, as well as inspiration and help for anyone suffering from depression or anxiety. The post that led me to her was this one about Beyonce the Giant Metal Chicken. ok, as I just was looking through her blog and thinking about my Mom reading it, I realized this is probably a little too inappropriate for many. Only go to it if you are not easily offended/think swearing is funny. Mom...don't go to it. She also recently had her first book published, which I haven't read yet but am planning on reading soon, which you can buy here.

Wow and I was only supposed to list 5. My bad. I actually have more, but I'll stop.

I think I just realized I might have a problem.

I'm Sexy and I Know It

I wish.

I haven't been feeling great about myself lately...pretty much ever since I got pregnant and gained significant amounts of weight, followed by almost a year and not losing all that weight...yeah, I'm struggling.

But it's ok. I still have cute feet, relatively nice legs and knees, and pretty hands.

Death---the last sleep? No, the final awakening. ~Walter Scott

First off, I would like to recommend that you read the post "On Death" from my sister Holly's blog. It is silly, really, because I should be allowed to feel how I feel but even now I am afraid of someone being angry at my emotions, and Holly does an excellent job of explaining those feelings. If anyone reads this and is offended for any reason, please let me know. I would rather talk about it than create some sort of unresolved resentment. That's the last thing anyone needs.

When I was a Junior in college, a girl named Rebecca Peterson was killed in a car accident in Vail, CO. Becky had dated and was still best friends with my then boyfriend's younger brother, we'll call him P. I did not know her very well, but as I was close to members of that family I was deeply affected by this loss. I was actually in Denver visiting for the weekend when it happened. It was late September, and right before we were leaving to head to the airport so I could fly back to Utah, P came running downstairs to where we were and told us hurridly that Becky had been in a car accident and was life-flighted to a Denver hospital. He was headed there. Less than two hours later as I sat at the gate in DIA I got the call that she had not survived.

That next week was rough. I wanted to badly to be there for these people that I loved but I had school and I was working two jobs and I was afraid I couldn't afford to travel back to Colorado for the funeral. So I worked, and went to class, but nothing felt normal. Finally Wednesday night, after much debating, I decided that I couldn't not be there.

Thursday morning came, and I dressed in some nice clothes and drove by myself 8 hours to Broomfield, where I made it literally just in time for the candlelight vigil that was held in Becky's honor. I was able to stay through the weekend and attend all the services held.

Flash forward a few months...I was having the worst semester of my life, both scholasticly and emotionally. And yes, those things were closely connected. I had my heart broken, really broken, for the first time in my life and I was not functioning at normal levels in any aspects of life. I was taking a Creative Writing class that semester, from a professor who became one of my favorites. We still keep in contact through email. One of the assignments was to write a personal essay. So maybe for this blog challenge I am cheating a little bit, since this was already written. But aside from the people in that class and my husband, I have not shared this personal essay with anyone. My hands are shaking as I write this because it is hard for me to be this open, it is hard for me to share my writing, and it is extremely hard to remember.

Becky

On the first day of class, about halfway through the course overview, I looked over and saw a girl who looks like Becky. Not exactly like her, but enough that I found myself staring at her. Becky's hair was shorter and somewhat curly. The way this girl's bangs fell to the right across her forehead reminded me of Becky's bangs and how they fell to the right across her forehead not when she was alive but in her coffin at her funeral. They were fixed so perfectly, those bangs, and I remember thinking that whoever fixed her hair like that probably didn't know her when she was alive. They just arranged her bangs like that now that she was dead.

I met Becky through a mutual aquaintance. Our two lives mixed within a family atmosphere, each of us a girlfriend and an outsider. In a family full of brothers and only one sister, I think that I felt like more of an outsider than she did. Her love of cooking made it easy for her to share something with the family--especially the boys--in preparation of daily meals, wheras my lack of interesting ability pushed me to the outskirts. It didn't bother me that much. What bothered me was that when she died the family made extra efforts to include me in things: a sudden influx of emails and phone calls checking to see how I was doing, invites from the whole family to attend random get-togethers, and the expression "I love you" was even tossed arond a few times. I felt like I was supposed to be her replacement, and it bothered me because the shoes of the dead are hard to fill.

She sat right next to me at a birthday lunch once, but I said little or nothing to her. She was friendly and charming, full of contagious laughter and smiling eyes but I was shy and focused on other people. Usually, when I saw her, she was watching the Food Network with the brother who loved her or creating an elaborate feast, like chicken nuggets made from cereal, or ham and bacon kebabs. I never ate her food because I'd always already eaten or was on my way out. Now that she can't make food anymore, I wish I had eaten it once or twice when I had the chance.

The day before she died Becky moved three hours away from home for the first time to attend culinary school. She had scholarships and internships already set up for her once she got there. She was only there for one day before a single-car rollover accident. A friend was driving, but Becky was partially ejected from the vehicle and suffered severe head trauma. By the time the Flight-for-Life helicopter made it to the hospital, it was too late.

Her dad stood at a candlelight vigil a week later and said, remember to hug your children every day because I was lucky enough to have said goodbye to her before she died. He said he had no idea that it would be his last goodbye, but he was glad that he had held her in his arms and said I love you when he dropped her off at school.

The boy who loved her stood at the candlelight vigil and said that his heart hurt the same as it did when he felt love. He said he'd never forget her infectious laughter and smile. He said he loved her, and everyone gathered there could see that he meant it. I knew that he meant it. And now she was dead.

I had a conversation with the boy I loved after she died. She was only eighteen, he said.
She didn't get to get married, he said.
She didn't have any babies.
Maybe people like Becky who die really young get to be the Moms of all the babies who die and go to heaven, too, I said.
He didn't answer.
Maybe God is trying to teach us that life is fragile, I said.
She didn't even get to live on her own, or go to school, or be a grown up at all, he said.
Maybe God knew it was her time to go, so He let her say goodbye to everyone right before, I said.
Maybe God is trying to teach us to appreciate the people who are around us every day, I said.
I'd think that God could come up with a better way of teaching us lessons, he said.
I didn't know what to say back.

The brother who loved her forgave her her faults while she was alive and then they didn't matter anymore when she was dead. But I didn't forgive her--I dwelt. And they do still matter now that she is dead because of all the things they kept me from doing while she was alive.

The chicken nuggets were real. So was the boy who loved her and the Food Network and the laughter and the smiling blue eyes. And her hair. That was real. But that's as far as my superficial knowledge of a girl named Becky who was alive once goes. And I could've known her. I could've eaten her food and spoken to her about her talents. I could've joked with her about us both being outsiders when we sat together at lunch. I could've tried to be her friend.

So it's really not her faults that matter anymore. It's mine.

Now every time I go to that class I sit and wait for the girl who looks like Becky to come into the room. I watch her walk to the same seat that she sits in every day, and say a friendly hello to all the people sitting around her. I watch her flip her bangs ever so slightlly to the right every few minutes. I watch her blink her big blue eyes, breathe in through her mouth, laugh when someone says something funny. And I feel like I'm watching Becky.

But I'm not.

There are things that I would change now, reading this again. For example, now I have the maturity to recognize that the family reaching out to me was not because they wished for a replacement, but most likely because they wished to appreciate the people in their lives, and I was one of those people. But I was foolish and didn't let them. I still am a little foolish when it comes to letting people in.

And I do think that parts of my writing are a bit dramatic. But I wrote with sincerity, and so I didn't change those parts either.

The girl, the one from my class, I actually still see her. She started working for the company that I work for about a year after I wrote this. I don't think she recognizes me, but I will never forget her face. We've spoken a few times, first when she changed her name because she got married and more recently because she had a baby. Her first. It was a girl.

What a bizzare world we live in.

Rebecca Peterson, July 1989-September 2007
Photo by P. Murphy

I HATE IT

When anyone puts things on my bed. Stop it. I'd rather have it on the floor because I can still sleep at night with stuff on the floor. It's a lot more difficult if you put crap on my bed.

When people use the paper cover of a book as a book mark, aka the "book flaps." Use your gum wrapper. Use a receipt. Make a book mark. I will make you a book mark if you will just stop ruining the book flaps!

When people leave time on the microwave. Hit clear already. Sheesh.

When people quote themselves. Actually, I think it is kind of funny, even though it is annoying.

When people compare ANY president EVER to Hitler. Are you kidding me?! Hitler?! No one should be compared to that man. I can't believe anyone would be so ridiculous as to do such a thing. However much you disagree with their politics, policies, or personal life, there has not and I doubt there ever will be a leader of the United States who is as evil as Adolf Hitler.

When people judge. Hey, I'm not perfect. I know it's hard to not judge. And yes, I recognize the irony of my hating people judging other people. "You know what I hate? People who don't tolerate other peoples' cultures, and the Dutch." Name that movie.

When my smart phone is dumb. I just want it to work all the time. I don't want to watch the icon loading for 5 minutes, I need instant gratification, please and thank you.

When people leave bags of trash right outside their front door and walk right past them instead of taking them to the dumpster. Since when is the porch the dumpster? The DUMPSTER is the dumpster. Figure it out.

When I'm stuck behind someone who is driving just under the speed limit. Either go the speed limit, speed, or get out of my way.

On Pinterest, when people refer to everything as "Genius." Oh, I can use a HOLE PUNCH and RIBBON to tie my PLASTIC FORK to the NAPKIN so my guests can be lazy and only pick up ONE THING?! SOMEONE CALL THE NOBEL PRIZE COMMITTEE! Wait...I think the word you were looking for was "convenient." Or "crafty." Let's reserve "genius" for things that truly are, shall we?

When people tell me to smile. I'll smile when I feel like it. Don't tell me what to do. Nothing is more likely to make me NOT smile than someone telling me I should.




PS. I listed 11 things. On purpose. I'm sure that will drive someone somewhere crazy.

If Music be the Food of Love, Play On

Some of my favs.

The Wind, Cat Stevens

Body Language, Jesse McCartney, because it reminds me of Hondo

Slow Dancing in a Burning Room, John  Mayer

One Headlight, The Wallflowers

The First Single, The Format

The Hallelujah Chorus

The Pretender, Jackson Browne

Finale B, RENT Soundtrack

Abide With Me, Tis' Eventide, LDS Hymns #165

Nocturne in G Minor,  Chopin, because it reminds me of Holly

IMY

I have been this tired quite a few times in my life, but none have been so brutal as when Monroe was a newborn and she never slept at night. EVER.

The first few weeks of Mo's life were unique, I know, because of the damn jaundice that refused to go away that had my Mom and me taking all night shifts to stay up and watch her sleep in the stupid at home suitcase and make sure she wasn't too cold, or that she wouldn't fall out and try to keep her (and myself) from crying the entire night. It was miserable and part of the reason I never, ever want another newborn!

Right after she was born when we were in the hospital, my doctor and the nurses suggested multiple times that we let the baby sleep in the nursery so we could get some rest. I, of course, disregarded this advice. I wanted her with me! But literally months later, when she would be up for hours and I was exhausted, I remember thinking to myself, "I should've just sent her to the nursery and slept." Right, Lis, because the extra few hours you may or may not have gotten in the hospital would make you not as tired now. Not really logical, but when you're that tired, nothing really is.

If you have a baby, or are planning on having a baby, I would recommend buying The Miracle Blanket. It was truly a miracle...Mo started sleeping longer and longer when we used it at night, first 5 or 6 hours, then 7, then 8, then 9! I loved my life. Uniteruppted sleep never felt so good.

So, I am not complaining about not getting sleep anymore. She has bad night occasionally, but one every once in awhile is cake compared to every night.

What I do miss is sleeping in. This kid...no matter what time she goes to bed, or how much she is up at night, will not sleep in. She's up around 7-7:30 every day, and on those days when I actually might be able to sleep a little longer, she's up at 6.

I can't wait til she's a teenager so we can all sleep til 11 and not feel bad about it.

PS. I'm late writing this post (and the next few) because I was stuck on this one for awhile...there are many things I miss, but there is one thing I miss that I do not want to admit. Maybe some day when I'm feeling brave, I'll do a bonus post about what I really miss. For now, this will have to do.

It Sucks to Grow Up

10 years seems like an impossible amount of time to imagine/predict what or where I will be.

Let's reflect, shall we?

10 years ago...I had just turned 15 and finished my Freshman year of high school at Broomfield High. I started working at my first "real" job as a hostess at Kaddy Shack, which served Tennessee barbeque. I couldn't drive, I didn't even have a permit. The car we teens (Holly, Stef and I) rode around it was "El Jepe," which is Spanish for nothing probably but it was a 1991 plymouth Sundance, white with peeling paint and doors that wouldn't open. We climbed in and out the windows and felt soooo cool doing it, for some odd reason. The speakers didn't work all the time so when we came to bumps in the road, Holly especially would tend to speed up because sometimes the speakers would be jostled into working and we could blare our music extremely loud.

This is what it looked like. But with less paint.

Just so you have an idea of how "emo" I was (or wasn't), here is a song that Holly and I would listen to at the max volume and sing as loud as possible as we drove with the windows down.

I went to the my first concert without my mom and not really with her approval (she let me go only because Adam, my brother, was home on leave and came with us). It was New Found Glory with Something Corporate, Finch, and Further Seems Forever at the Fillmore Auditorium in Denver. It. Was. Awesome.

Holly, Stef and Me when I was 15. Summer 2002. We were so cool.

Fast forward 10 years...a lot has happened. Many things I didn't expect, like the loss of my Gramps in March of 2006, getting into and out of a couple of relationships, then finding my One and Only 2 years ago, having a baby!!!!, watching someone I love live through cancer, loving my neices as much as I do...good and bad, things have changed.

So...how do I say where I want to be in 10 years? We're still trying to figure out what we are going to do with the next year of our life, let alone 10.

I asked Hondo where he wants to be in 10 years and his response was, "Rich."

Typical.

Monroe will be almost 11 in 10 years. When I was 11, I kissed a boy for the first time. Yikes.

I hope that in 10 years I don't live in Utah anymore. There are some great things about this state, but there are some things that I really don't love. I would like to raise Monroe in a more diverse community, in mutiple senses of the word.

I would like to have my graduate degree, maybe even a Doctorate, and be working in something that I love, instead of working for the sake of working.

I would like to have a better car...mine is 12 years old now, if I still have the same car in 10 years please take apart my engine or something so I'm forced to buy something else. Or do what Holly did with once of my favorite pairs of shoes...throw it away without telling me.

I would like to still be happy, and to have taken some risks. I don't feel like I've taken many in my life so far.

I pray that 10 years from now we are still healthy, happy, and that all my family has the same fortune.

The definition of "Insanity" is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result

Are bad habits really "bad" if you enjoy doing them?

Take for example...swearing.

I don't use awful language and I'm careful about who I say things to, but I believe that a well-placed swear word can be extremely effective. I think I'm also more the habit because where I live there is some shock value that is associated with swearing, so it's hard not to when you know you'll get a reaction.

Judge me if you must.

My go-to reaction when someone comes near my face is to lick them. Hondo suffers the most from this.

I already admitted that I tear apart my nails on the "20 facts about me" day.

I stress and worry about things that I don't need to stress and worry about, and I let it affect my mood.

I can't really think of anything else...I'm sure I do things that annoy people, but I think that would be their problem and not necessarily mine. :)

I Fear

Spiders
Bugs
Stranger's hugs

Mountain lions
Sharks
Creeps in parks

Oceans
Whales
Scary tales

Being alone
Being let-down
Loss of loved ones
Psycho clowns

Things that happen in the dark
Zombies
Newborns
Snide remarks

Growing older
Getting chubby
Making choices
Fights with my hubby

Out of all the things to fear
There is one thing to me that's clear.
The thing I fear the most, I'd say
Is "ending up" somewhere one day.

I'm Moving to Austrailia

This morning when I called my mom to discuss/complain an issue in my life I cried a little bit, and then I went in the grocery store and bought $250 worth of food, and one of the bags broke when I was unloading the groceries which took 3 trips up 3 flights of stairs, before I looked in the mirror and saw huge black smudges on my cheeks from when I cried and no one told me.

Then when I tried to get dressed I had to change 12 times because nothing fits me right ever since I had Mo and even when I was finally dressed I still didn't feel cute.

The rest of my day was ok...

...until I went to my friend Stacy's wedding reception and had my hubby take a picture of me with Stacy and Becca, two of my best friends in Utah, and my arm looked fat.

And just now, Monroe puked on me.

And that is why I can (vainly and a bit selfishly, I know) say that sometimes I have terrible, horrible, no good very bad days.

Which is why this was, and still is, one of my favorite children's books.

My mom says some days are like that...even in Austrailia.

Living the Dream

My dream job is the job that Sandra Bullock has in the movie "The Proposal." Reading and choosing books to publish all day long while schmoozing the authors in the meantime? Please and thank you!

I Say a Little Prayer for You

The moment I wake up, before I put on my make-up...

is about 7:30am, average. It depends on when Mo wakes up most of the time.

While combing my hair now, and wondering what dress to wear now...

I get ready, get Mo ready, and we drop her off at the sitter's at 8:30.

I run for the bus, dear, While riding I think of us, dear...

Hondo and I only have one car, so either I drop him off at his work or he drops me at mine.

At work I just take time, and all through my coffee break time...

Work is...mundane. I don't have a lot to say about my job.

 4:00 hits and I am outta here.

4:30: Pick up Monroe

Hang out all night. Play with the baby, try to get her to sleep (which she has been refusing to do lately), make dinner, occasionally exercise but not nearly as much as I would like (I have Mom-guilt), go to bed around 11-12 and wake up and start all over again.

Does anyone really have a really interesting day? I feel like they are rare.

Bonus!!!

After the Old Pictures post I asked Hondo's cousin to see if there were any pics of Hondo as a kid on the wall at his aunt's house. With how much his family moved around, any pics of him are either lost or in storage somewhere. These are the only ones I've ever seen of him as a kid.

All the kids...I can't get over how cute Miguel's face is too!

Just a close up of Hondo

I knew he was a stud!


Also, my Mom started her own blog too! Check it out at www.mahanthing.blogspot.com

Something About A Handbag

Inside and Outside

"I hate it when I get a sucky bang job." ~Holly Glem

That's not really my favorite quote, but it is funny. And yes, she really did say that. We were talking about hair, if you couldn't tell.

Picking a favorite quote is difficult. I have poems I like, and some quotes from books but none I necessarily would say is my absolute favorite. So I'm just going to share a quote that I saw a few weeks ago that I saved because I liked it enough. I thought it was worth remembering.

"The most terrifying fact about the universe is not that it is hostile but that it is indifferent...however vast the darkness, we must supply our own light."
Stanley Kubrick

Something to think about.

Speaking of Money, We Have Tomatoes

First of all...that's how you spell "tomatoes" right? Looks weird.

What would I do if I won the lottery? I think a better question is...what wouldn't I do?

First, I would pay off debt, set aside money for Mo blah blah blah no one cares. BORING!

Then, I would buy this car.

I would buy an apartment in Paris that would probably look something like this.

I would travel around the world. New Zealand, Egypt, Thailand, Taiwan, Greece, Italy, Mexico are a few places on the list. (I didn't put France because I would already have an apartment there. Obviously.)

I would hire a personal chef to make me delicious food that would taste good and not make me fat.

I would take classes...cooking classes, yoga classes, language classes, hair-styling classes...

I would only work at something that was really fulfilling. Like being a book editor or writing my own. That would be awesome.

I would hope that my lottery winnings were a lot...enough that I could spend the rest of my life doing whatever I want and taking care of the people I love.

One Shining Moment

I am a Mom. (If you didn't already know that, well welcome to the 90's. Or 2012. Whatevs.)
I have many, many moments every day that I am proud of my daughter, and I am so overwhelmed by how grateful I am that she is healthy and growing. She is the most amazing thing I have ever seen and I cannot believe that she grew inside of me.

In the spirit of honesty, though, I am going to admit that I was not excited when I found out that I was pregnant. Don't get me wrong, a baby is always a blessing, but under the circumstances being pregnant was not something I had anticipated. Add to that the fact that I have never once in my life had a desire to birth a child. I love kids, I love babies, but I heard about all the things that can (and do) happen to your body when you are pregnant and I never, ever wanted to be pregnant or give birth. So part of my lack of excitment was due to the fact that I was terrified of the entire pregnancy.

I hated being pregnant. Hondo and Holly can probably tell you multiple times where pregnancy and me did not agree with each other. I had a relatively easy pregnancy as far as sickness or complications go, but that does not change the fact that I hated it. Despised. Loathed.

I had a horrible labor. I will not share the details because I know lots of people who are pregnant and the last thing those women need to hear is a horror story of things that can go wrong. (Why do people insist on sharing the scariest possible details with every pregnant woman they see? Do they not realize how scary the process is without having to hear about the awful possibilities?)

My proudest moment was the moment I survived. Giving birth, I mean. It was just as hard and scary as I had imagined, but I did it and I didn't freak out or break. I sobbed when they put her on my chest (omg I'm getting emotional typing this) and much of that was awe and relief that we both, me and my Monroe, made it.




Monroe, about 2 months





Monroe just this past weekend, 10 1/2 months



Seven Brides for Seven Brothers

Photo courtesy of alsolikelife.com

This is the best picture I could find, but count the brothers 1...2...3. Yep, that red-headed kid in the middle. Gideon, the youngest brother. My first celebrity crush and I don't even know his name.

Here's another one. Third guy from the left. Photo courtesy of alsolikelife.com

Piercings and Tattoos

My parents had a rule: You can get your ears pierced when you are 12 or older. So for my 12th birthday, my mom took my and my friend Kyla to the mall and I got my ears pierced. My Dad back then said if we ever got anything else pierced we would have to wait until we were 18 because he wouldn't allow it.

Shortly after that, my sister Jen got her ears pierced so she had 3 holes in each ear and I thought it was so cool. I decided it would be a good idea to pierce my own ears with a 2nd hole. So I did. I used a regular needle (no ice, no anisthetic) to make a small hole and then I pushed a regular earring through. I think I had those in for 1 night and then I got scared I'd get in trouble so I took them out.

But I reeeeeally wanted 2 holes! So I pierced them. Again. Same thing, needle, push the earring through with no ice or anything. I wore them this time for 1 whole day at school, but I showed Holly what I did and she threatened to tell my mom so again I got scared and took them out. (This is the first my mom is hearing about this. Sorry Mom.) Holly was a really good kid. She told me when I got home and showed her that I took them out that she wouldn't have really told on me, but she was such a rule follower (who am I kidding...so was I) that I really thought she was going to.

When I was in 7th grade a big group of girls at my middle school pierced their own belly buttons. (What's with all the self piercing going on? I'm not really sure about that.) I made a feeble attempt to do it too, but failed. There wasn't even a mark on my stomach. I don't think I tried very hard. All the girls got in trouble at school (a parent complained about the group being a bad influence on her daughter to the principal) but luckily none of my friends told anyone that I had also been in on this. Thanks, friends.

For my 20th birthday a friend and I went to the Telluride Bluegrass Festival (which is awesome. Go if you ever have a chance. That year Counting Crows were the headliners and they played a straight bluegrass set. I fell in love with the Avett Brothers and got to see Chris Thile perform by himself. Yes I'm bragging. I know you're jealous.) On the way back to Denver one of the tires on our car tried to explode. We noticed (luckily) before it did, but while the car was at the shop in Glenwood Springs we had an hour to kill and so I got my nose pierced. I had always wanted to get it done so... I did it.

No tattoos. I doubt I'll ever convince Hondo to let me get one either. Shoulda done it when I was young and rebellious.

 If you haven't had the chance to check out my sisters' blogs, they are also doing this challenge. You can find Jen's here, Stef's here, and Holly's here.

A Picture is Worth 1,000 Words

10 Days Old--Pic Courtesy of my Grandma Gray



If you look closely, you can see that Monroe and I have the same nose







9 months old. And yes I was bald. It happens.






I'm the baby, if you couldn't tell. Look how cute my siblings (and Aunt Cathy and Mom) were! I love Holly's face.



1st Birthday

18 months

 If you haven't had the chance to check out my sisters' blogs, they are also doing this challenge. You can find Jen's here, Stef's here, and Holly's here.

These are a few of my Favorite Foods

Ten favorite foods? That's actually harder to choose than you would think. Who doesn't like food?!?

TEN. Ice cream cakes
NINE. Panini sandwiches
EIGHT. Fruit
SEVEN. Cheese
SIX. Pepsi
FIVE. Fruit snacks
FOUR. Nachos
THREE. Chipotle--tacos, burritos, bowls
TWO. Ranch
ONE. Mock-lasagna

These aren't really in order, but kind of. Ranch and mock-lasagna are definitely top two. And I'm not as unhealthy as I sound...sometimes.

If you want the recipe for mock-lasagna I'll post it later. If I was being executed and I got to have a last meal, it would be that.

Shout out to Sami M. for introducing me to the beauty that is panini (and for getting us a panini maker for our wedding!)

Also...after the day I had today, I don't recommend flying on Frontier. Or out if Provo. But at least they served Pepsi.

"This family would shrivel up and DIE without my sparkling personality!"

Name that movie.

A. I'm adaptable.

I feel like I've been blessed with the ability to accept change well. It doesn't always mean I like it, but I'm able to deal.

2. I'm responsible.

Sometimes too responsible for my own good. Don't ask me about the time I DIDN'T go to San Fransico with Holly and Eric last minute. I might cry.

7. I'm passionate.

About many things. I really should write "FIERCE" but passionate sounds better. (And Tyra Banks ruined the whole "FIERCE" thing for everyone. RUINED!)

P.S. It's Saturday's Warrior.

Beliebers Unite!

Me: I don't know what to write about for the blog today.

Hondo: What's the topic?

Me: My Guilty Pleasure. I don't feel like I have one.

Hondo: There has to be something.

Me: But I don't really do anything with my life...

Hondo: It doesn't have to be something you do, it's something you enjoy that not everyone else does. Like Justin Bieber.

Me: People love Justin Bieber! 19 Million Belibers and counting!

Hondo:...silence...then,

You're Ridiculous.

So Biebs...it looks like it's just you and me, kid. And 22.8 million other Beliebers. (I just looked on Twitter.)

PS. Monroe likes the Biebs too. Baby is one of her favorite songs, she dances every time I sing it to her.

Injury

When I was 3, I decided that I needed to get a drink of water all by myself. So I climbed up on the counter in the kitchen, got a small plastic cup out of the cupboard, and walked down the hall to the bathroom. I then climbed up on the toilet lid and leaned over to fill my cup. As I stood up, I lost my balance and fell backwards, hitting my head on the edge of the tub. Back then, we had a bathtub with sliding doors so there were metal runners on the edge, which is what I hit my head on.


I actually don't remember this all in great detail. What I do remember is looking up at my mom when she ran in the bathroom. I have one picture, a photo memory of that one moment of seeing her face looking down at me as I was wedged between the bathtub and the toilet.


I ended up needing stitches. Five, I think. This is the one and only time in my life I've needed stitches, which is impressive considering other injuries I've sustained (i.e. getting hit by a car.) With as clumsy and accident prone as I am, it is surprising. What isn't surprising is that my earliest memory as a child revolves around me being stubborn, independent, and injured.

Also, watch this because it's funny.

In Fact

FACT: I'm turning 25 in 2 weeks. Quarter-life crisis here we come.

FACT: I'm a liberal with a slight lean towards libertarianism.

FACT: I'm not entirely sure what it means to be a libertarian. I only know that in every political quiz I've ever taken, those are the results I get.

FACT: In my spare time I take political quizzes online. I've also taken one or two typing quizzes just for funsies. The most recent one I took was here. Tell me what your results are!

I just took it again and the results were...liberal. Why was I a libertarian before? What has changed? The world will never know...

FACT: I'm hungry.

FACT: I heart Pepsi. And Dr Pepper. Hondo blames me for his love of pop now too.

FACT: I call soda pop "pop." Probably because my mom does?

FACT: I have only been to 14 states.

FACT: I've never been out of the country (but that will soon change.)

FACT: My favorite book I read in high school was Heart of Darkness. My favorite books I read in college were Atonement and Possession.

Ok now I'm thinking about it and I loved a lot of books in college. I just remember like 3 more that I want to add to the list. But I will refrain since I didn't think of them first.

FACT: I love reading. I love talking about books. I love sharing books I've loved with other people and hearing about how much they loved them too.

FACT: I'm genuinely afraid of a zombie apocalype.

FACT: When I'm stressed or bored I tear my nails apart. I don't bite them, I literally tear them apart with my other nails. That's why I try to keep my nails manicured nicely...I don't do it when they look all pretty and painted.(At least not as much)

FACT: I love Paris. I've never been, but if there was one place in the world I could go right now (or ever) it would be Paris.

FACT: I never saw the ocean until I was 17 years old. And even though it's frightening, it's mostly awesome and I love going to the beach.

FACT: I believe the top 5 scariest animals, in order, are 1. Mountain Lions, 2. Sharks,
 3. Whales (why are they so big?!) 4. Bugs/Insects (any and all.) 5. Space

Which is a whole different kind of animal, I know, but still terrifying. And awesome. Kind of like the ocean.

FACT:  Summer is my favorite season. I love all the seasons (at least at first...cough cough winter cough cough) but I love summer the most.

FACT: I have a great memory for really random movie quotes and songs. I'm one of those people who hears a word and a song pops in my head so I sing it, but even that is really only around people I'm extremely comfortable with.

FACT: I'm pretty bad at making good first impressions.  (like really bad. just ask my in-laws.)
When I'm in a group of people that I don't know well I shut down and sit there silently and am really awkward when anyone addresses me directly and therefore people don't usually like me at first. I'm working on it.

FACT: Every single time I had the opportunity to make a wish as a child, I wished for a puppy.

I never got one. I couldn't keep my room clean.


There you go. 20 facts about me.