My husband, the Doctor.

OK.

Maybe not really.
But a girl can dream, right?

Luke started his first rotation a month ago and had quite the adventure.
(A more accurate word for "adventure" might be "life-altering, career re-thinking, drama-filled saga.")
He got to dig through colons, hold parts of the body that no male should ever hold, meet some colorful personalities, and be elbow deep (literally) in guts, blood, and well... other stuff.
Lets just say he won't be going into surgery anytime soon.

But it was pretty fun to get a phone call every now and then that went something like this:
"Sorry I had to stay late but we had an exploratory laparotomy on a patient that turned out to have a Krukenburg tumor so we had to do an ileocecectomy with transverse colon resection and double anastimosis, a total histerectomy and bilateral salpingoopherectomy."
To which I would respond,
"Oh, cool. We went swimming."


He was super unexcited when I showed up at the hospital with my camera in hand.
But I didn't care.
Because I am the family documentator.
And this must be documented.

So after a few seconds of him begging me to put the camera down and looking over his shoulder to make sure the other students couldn't see what I was doing, he gave up and walked away.

I suppressed the deep urge to whistle.

What is it about a guy in uniform, ladies?
I do not know.
But I like it.

(It is really nice to know that if the medical profession goes under, he'll always have a job as a runway model.)
Work it, Luke.
Work it.

One Frog, Two Frog, Red Frog, Dead Frog.

You know how in Asia every year has a different animal attached to it? (I think my birth year was the year of the rat. Gross.) Well, I have officially declared this year to be the year of the frog. Here's why.

Frog #1:
(remember him?) We named him Freddie. He lost his leg in a tragic suicide jump attempt.

Frog #2:
We named him Freddie. He hopped into our campsite and spent 45 minutes in Aubrey's hand. Eventually we put him in the grass. He didn't hop away. (If you know what I mean...)

Frog #3:

Poor, poor frog number three. He survived Ruby the attacking dog and Aubrey the playful girl. In the end though, he fell through the cracks. Literally. The cracks of a 2nd story balcony.
It wasn't pretty.

Frog #4:
The little thing made his appearance inside our house on my dust pan. Scared the poop out of me. We named him Freddie. (Pattern, anyone...?) He was so teeny tiny and absolutely adorable we let him go on the spot. Lucky guy.

Frogs #5, 6, and 7:
Frogs 5-7 were found by Luke while I was at work. They were put into a pink Tupperware and left for me to discover in the morning. Frog #7 (Freddie) was found dead on arrival. Frog #5 (Freddie) was held for a few minutes and then made a daring escape under the entertainment center. Which I moved to get him out. That was a bad idea. He got semi-squished. (But survived. Sort of.) Frog #6 (Freddie) got lost under the couch and I don't want to talk about the details. And then the miracle happened. Frog #7 came back to life.
True. Story.
(Or he was playing dead the whole time. Which in the end, turned out to be a rather successful strategy.)

Yea for the year of the frog!
I think next year should be the year of the dog.

I'm just saying...

Today I will be a better mom.

“The biggest mistake I made [as a parent] is the one that most of us make. … I did not live in the moment enough. This is particularly clear now that the moment is gone, captured only in photographs. There is one picture of [my three children] sitting in the grass on a quilt in the shadow of the swing set on a summer day, ages six, four, and one. And I wish I could remember what we ate, and what we talked about, and how they sounded, and how they looked when they slept that night. I wish I had not been in such a hurry to get on to the next thing: dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less” -Anna Quindlen

picture of Brooklyn and Rykker. by me.

A Big Fat Mormon Wedding

So, a few days ago I went photo-digging into some ancient photo-files

(to find a wedding picture for the anniversary that I forgot about),
and I stumbled upon this gem. It was taken at my wedding.
(The one I have officially forgotten ever took place.)
And then I remembered that I still have not blogged about their wedding.

Holy. Fail.


And can I just say (yes I can because this is my blog) that if this was any other wedding, I wouldn't waste precious cyber-space space on it. I would move on with my life. But, this was no ordinary wedding.
This wedding could eat my wedding for breakfast.
(And my wedding was pretty awesome too. And completely memorable...)

But seriously, their wedding was so amazing I want to marry it.

Here's how it all began.
Brad and Kellie met.
Brad and Kellie dated.
Brad and Kellie got engaged.
We told Brad to marry her as quickly as possible before she changed her mind.
And he did.

That's pretty much it.

We absolutely adore her.
We hope their children have her teeth.
Oh, and her eyes.
Her eyes.
Oh my goodness, her eyes.
If springtime and heaven and dessert had a color, it would be the color of her eyes.

I'm pretty sure that just for their wedding God whipped out his most perfect day.
It was beautiful.
(Side note: Every time I see this picture, I just remember everyone yelling at Holly. So funny.)
(Holly. Holly! HOLLY!! HHHOOOLLLLYYYYY!!!!!!)

Ah hem.
Moving on.
See these dresses? My grandma made them with her own two bare hands.
(And probably a sewing machine too, but still.)
And a jumping picture. What good is a wedding without a jumping picture?
I submit that it is no good.
And then, in the midst of a perfectly good jumping picture opportunity, this happened:
Look closely.
There is a bug trying to eat Brittany.
That was about the time I used my bouquet as a baseball bat.
(And my mom thought those bouquets were a waste of money...)
It all turned out OK in the end though.
I scared the bug off and no one had to die on the sacred temple grounds.
And we even had time to do a little Marilyn pose.
(Brendan, you are the wind beneath my dress.)

Now, I am going to attempt to paint a picture for you.
Here it goes.
My mother transformed our church into a diamond-studded, sparkling, twinkling, candy-coated, tropical paradise, lemon-filled creme puff. You'll see what I mean in a minute.
SEE...WHAT...
I...
MEAN?

This particular flower arrangement was almost the start of WWIII.
Thank goodness no one got hit.

And then the party started.
And, oh, what a party it was.

Highlights include:
-Aubrey full-on doing the Macarana.
-Grandpa busting some moves with the granddaughters.

-Eating enough candy to make a professional candy-taste-tester sick. And then eating some more. And then another handful. Oh, and then some more.
-Braden shaking it like a Polaroid Picture.
-Getting accidentally groped by a random stranger. He thought I was one of the other bridesmaids (we're all wearing the exact same thing - who could blame him?) and gave me a nice (though afterward - quite awkward) back rub/hug/around the waist grab.
We laughed it off (and then avoided eye contact the rest of the night).
-Both girls randomly busting out some hard-core break-dancing moves right there on the basketball court floor.
Who knew they had it in them?
(Not. me.)

-Shaking it all night long.-Dancing with my husband.
(Even if we had to do the "deacon dance.")-Hearing the following conversation:
Brad: "Mom, I think we are going to leave now."
Mom: "What?! We haven't done the bouquet toss or the garter toss and it's only 8:20."
Brad: "No, mom. We're leaving. We have to leave. Mom, stop laughing. Seriously, we need to go. We're leaving."

It's funny cause it's true.

I remember having the exact same conversation.

Speechless Sunday #8

This time I'm going to let a video do all the talking.
You. must. watch. this.

You can watch it again.
I won't tell.

Celebrity Look-a-like

After one grueling night of reception set-up in Cali, we walked in upon this little scene.

Yes, it's sweet.
Yes, it's pure.
Yes, it's angelic.


But for some reason, it also seemed familiar.

Have you seen this image before?
(Hint: You have.)

Here's a clue:
-It was painted by a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle.

Got it....?




Wait for it....





Wait for it...

Isn't it ironic?
-The naked body
-The light teal splash of color
-The white draping cloth

(And for the record, I do not think God is a celebrity. I just didn't think "All-Mighty-Omnipotent- Heavenly-Being-Look-A-Like" had the same ring to it.
Just sayin'...)

The List.

This is a list called, "Things I Forgot This Week."

This is a real list of actual things that I truly did forget this week.
It's embarrassing.
I hope you enjoy.

Thing I forgot this week #1:
MY RESTRAINT.
We took full advantage of tax-free shopping and went absolutely C.R.A.Z.Y. on back-to-school (and first-to-school) clothes.

Thing I forgot this week #2:
HOW FUN A TEA PARTY WITH 4 TODDLERS CAN BE.
The tea (lemon-aid) was warm, the sandwiches were uneaten (except by the bugs), and the picnic lasted approximately 3 minutes.
But still; good times.

Thing I forgot this week #3:
TO PUT AWAY THE SCISSORS AFTER I WAS DONE WITH THEM.
This resulted in more than one female in tears, a pile of hair on the bathroom floor, and a very deep heart-to-heart talk. (In which I discovered Brooklyn did not realize this was a naughty thing to do. She fully thought cutting her hair was just part of a normal beauty routine.)

Thing I forgot this week #4:
HOW QUIRKY IOWA CAN BE
Did you know they have a full festival dedicated to hot air balloons?
Well they do.
And did you know that people come from miles around to see it?
Well they do.
And did you know that I have the coolest best friends a girl could ask for?
Well I do.
And did you know that in Iowa it is perfectly normal to see a child crawl into (or out of) a caterpillar's butt?
Well it is. And did you know that it is almost impossible to get a picture when you are laughing so hard you can't breathe?
Well it is.

Thing I forgot this week #5:
MY ANNIVERSARY.
That's right, folks. I forgot my own anniversary.
But in my defense, so did Luke.
(In fact - just for the record - I remembered it first. Does it count as remembering if it takes you until 4:52 pm on the day of your anniversary? I think yes. OK, no. It doesn't. But I'm going to carry on like it does.)
Happy Anniversary, Luke.
It's been 5 years of bliss, and I love you.

That I will never forget.