Oh Christmas Tree

 I'm really proud of how my Christmas decorations turned out this year, and since we are leaving for Christmas so no one will be seeing them, here they are in all their glory...


Garland swags and burlap bows.



the curio, with a swag of it's own and all the things I don't want the kiddos to touch tucked neatly behind the glass.



Just a reworking of my sofa table



One of my beloved Apothecary jars filled with pine cones and lovely white and silver berries.



the "kid" tree in the family room. 



the "you'll die if you touch it" tree in the living room.  I went with old fashioned this year.  Aqua, burlap and tule.  I love all the different textures.
 I also wrapped all the presents with brown paper instead of the traditional Christmas paper and used raffia and burlap ribbon.



A bigger shot of the room

I hung up burlap and used clothespins to hang up Christmas cards.  I liked it alot more than stuff taped on the fridge.

Thirty.

Happy Birthday, my darling.

5 things I love about you:

1. The way you laugh when you're really laughing.

2. Your zeal for life.

3. Your love of the Gospel.

4. Your maturity.

5. The way you put up with my shenanigans, and love me anyway.

I love you.

oh I love my brother.

yes i do.

dear...

Dear Self,

Can it possibly be over a month since you last posted?  How pathetic.  Well, perhaps not pathetic when taken into consideration that the reason for such neglect is that in fact life is insanely hecktic right now.  As in 3 children, two of which go two different directions to school each day, one husband who is NEVER home (grad school, full time job...), busy calling at church, a whole 2850 square foot house that needs cleaning/decorating/ up keep- pretty much all by my lonesome (since like I said before, the hubs is MIA), a yard that needs mowed, trimmed, weeded and coddled (because it is still ridiculously hot here in the Zona.) oh, yeah, and my 7 credits of classes that I am taking myself- one a 400 level literature class, the other one, French.  And a- yikes.  Okay, I don't feel like such a loser now...

Dear  Hannah,
Thank you for being perfection every single day.  For acting older than you have to, for always keeping tabs on your crazy brothers, for doing what you are told, for having a conscience, for feeling bad when you do something wrong, for saying fabulously cute things like: "Oh, Carter, you should not have done that, it was very foolish," oh, and also for looking so painfully cute every single day when I drop you off at school with your little backpack hanging all the way down to your knees.  I swear, every day I want to jump out of the car and make you come back home with me.  I don't know what I'm going to do if you ever get rebellious, because you are such a heaven-sent.

Love, Mom.

Dear Carter,
Remember how you stapled those two sheets of paper together the other day then "decorated" them, (which means colored all over them with a red crayon) and then called it your indian hat?  And you wore it at dinner, and to bed and then to preschool the next day.  Yeah, that was pretty much the cutest thing ever.  Thanks for reminding me that amid all the chaos that is your personality, you are pretty dang awesome.

Love, Squaw.

Dear Ethan,
You have the most delectible little body in the world.  You're squishy, so deliciously squishy, and you're spunky and hilarious, which makes the squishiness even more desirable, and also your skin is so sweeeeet.  Except now the mosquitos seem to have discovered your yumminess and they won't leave you alone.  Your siblings wake up without so much as a nibble on them and you have been the midnight buffet.  I don't even know where they are coming from but they head straight for you.  I love that I have to rub bug repellent on you before bed, but I don't like that it makes you taste weird.

Love, Resident nibbler.

Dear Hubs,

Remember when you used to just come home from work and we'd all hang out?  Yeah, me either.  But I bet it was really cool.

Your wife,

Remember me?  The short one, who birthed all your babies.

Dear Arizona,

Are you kidding me?  108 on September 27th.  109 TOMORROW.  If this is a joke, it is the worst one ever.  Come on, it's fall already, let's try to act like it.  Get with the program.

Love, I'm tired of  the sweaty face/dribble running down between my non-existent chest, and I am sick of my SUMMER CLOTHES.

Dear House,
I still love you, even if you are a pain to paint.  You are really starting to show some progress.  Thank you,
Love, Girl in the paint splattered clothes.

Dear Reader,
the end.

seven.

Time flies...

when you're having fun.

Happy Anniversary to us!

California love.

I love to write.  In fact, writing is what I am slugging my way through a degree for. (with 3 kids in tow and a husband working his way through a challenging MBA himself)  I love to write, but I am too tired to write, right now.  And by right now, I mean for the last 3 months or so.  Inspiration: nada, whitty one-liners are in short supply, and everytime I sit down to write something fabulous I come up short.  Writing is a workout, and I am out of shape.  This blog has suffered.  Obviously.  My book, which I used to cherish and (perhaps) even coddle is in a stagnant state of editing.  Right now, I kind of hate it.  I keep making these goals for myself, finished by Christmas, finished by summer, okay then, the end of summer, etc etc.  I want it done.  I want to send it out and take a risk.  I want to get 18 million rejection letters from editors.  Okay, maybe not, but  let's face it, it's inevitable so I might as well act like I want it.  Glass half full and all that...

So, since I've turned into a writing slob and let my mind turn into mush that has trouble remembering any kind of grammer and also finishing coherent sentences I guess I better start slow.  Maybe five-ten minutes of writing a day, just to get back in the groove.  But now I really must go to bed.  We're in San Diego and the beach was heaven today.  The sunburn covering the entire backside of my body this evening... not so heavenly.  That's what I get for napping under the fabulous California sun.

Oh how I love California, always have, always will.  It's in my blood.

Peace out peeps.

summer.

girls camp.  ah yeah. check out my friend Renae's more cowbell shirt.  love this girl.

batman a la backyard.

nice indian.  oh good.  we don't want the scalping kind...
stopping at the road side jewelry stands in nowheresville, az.

checking out the merchandise.

seeing my sister again after way. too. long.

playing with grandpa's new pup, Tucker.

sa-weet dog. semi-sweet kids.  haha.

the wasatch back.

the team: "No More Runs."  pun. intended.

my longest run.  7.4 miles on a gravel road climbing avon pass.  hot+hills= he**. just kidding, it was awesome, but the hardest run of my life.  look at hard core me go.

the baton hand off, and a kiss.  double bonus.

woo, and a hoo.  only 2 more runs and about 25 hours to go.

Craig literally chucking his water bottle back to Justin, who was (obviously) not ready for it. 

done with run 3.

hubs, me, dad-in-law

not loving a 15 hour car ride.

the grand canyon.  meet the scruffy family.

all my favorite people.

the 4th of July

watching the fireworks

he had a big day.

happy kids.

a fishing we will go.

that's not blood under his nose.  it's chocolate.  yummy yummy boy.

fishing without fish.

precarious.

hannah the vampire. tee hehe.

6th birthday ear piercing.

showing off  our earings.  as hannah said, "we match mom, but our earings aren't the same."

just hanging out.

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he pillow bet.

helping. 

the end.
for the record, bloggers new picture loader sucks.  and i can't remove the extra picture of ethan.
oh well.

happy summer to you.