If I sent Christmas cards, you'd totally be on my list!

With a young, growing family we're always looking for ways to simplify and keep costs down, whether it's Christmas Day or just another ordinary weekday. Unfortunately, Christmas cards are one of those "expendable" expenses. And quite frankly, this bums me out! 

I LOVE Christmas cards. Every year I look forward to seeing pictures of family and friends and pouring over the details of their lives if they are doubly ambitious and including a letter. (I guess I'm kind of nosy like that.) In return, I want to share my own life. (I know I'm an oversharer like that.) Never mind that we do this daily through social media. Isn't it fun seeing it all summed up and packaged up in pretty paper and beautiful photos?

So to all those who were thoughtful enough to include us on their mailing list this year: thank you! It means a lot to me. (And Clayton too though he probably wouldn't gush about it like I do.) And in response, may I send out a virtual Christmas card/end of the year summary to you in the form of a blog post? Tacky? Probably. But tacky with all the best wishes stuck to it.

While every year seems bigger and crazier than the preceding, 2013 really was a rather monumental year for us. After ten years of marriage, our little family is moving on to the next exciting and busy (in a different way) stage of life. We're trading in diapers, strollers, and baby blessings for pierced ears, family hikes, and baptisms.

While we're not trying to rush the youngest member of the family, Lucy (2), we are pretty thrilled to see her developing and changing from a baby to a big girl. It's so bittersweet knowing she is the last little one, but we are relishing each moment and every milestone. This year she graduated from diapers, cribs, sippy cups, and strollers. Now she loves to be the mommy and diapers, feeds, and swaddles anything that will hold still long enough for her to do so.

She will be turning three in January and wants so badly to join the big girls in school and dance. I imagine we'll blink and she'll be doing those things in no time. NO MORE BLINKING! Our "baby" still loves to cuddle as often as she can, sing lullabies at bedtime, and says "I love you!" more than any child I've ever met. Now if she could just learn how to stick with one outfit a day...

Lydia (5) graduated from preschool in May and headed to kindergarten in the fall. I was particularly nervous about sending my little blondie to the "big school", but there was no holding her back. She loves walking with Deacon and Eliza to school every morning. While she plays it pretty cool, she enjoys just about everything about school, even the homework!

It's been especially amazing to watch the non-physical changes in Lydia this year. She is getting braver and more confident in herself. We were so proud of her for dancing on stage this year at her Spring dance recital and December Nutcracker performance.  I marvel (sometimes with fear and surprise, but mostly with awe and amazement) at how this child looks at the world. She is unpredictable and spontaneous and hilarious and artistic. We continue to make progress with her gluten-free diet trying new foods and recipes and I'm thankful she goes along with it so willingly.

Eliza (7) finished 1st grade in a puddle of bittersweet tears, but met 2nd with an eager, happy grin. She loves music, art, helping, chocolate, lip gloss, and playing with cousins and friends. In fact she loves EVERYTHING...except cleaning her room. She embraces life with so much enthusiasm and emotion. It's simultaneously gratifying and terrifying to see your child developing into a mini-version of yourself.

Eliza has grown musically this year. She decided to give dance another go and performed in her dance studio's performance of The Nutcracker. She and I sang our first mommy/daughter duet in our ward talent show. She had zero fear and ate up the limelight while I was, literally, shaking in my boots. Since then we have been asked to sing together a couple of times. Eliza even sang her first public solo in our ward primary program. (We are treated to solos daily here at home.) She has a beautiful voice and it's so fun seeing her love of music in action. She also lost several teeth, got her ears pierced for her birthday, and had to get glasses (which she can never seem to remember to wear). It's fun watching her start these growing pain years and we already admire the beautiful girl she already is.

2013 was especially big for our oldest, Deacon. When he turned eight in January he had the opportunity to be baptized. We enjoyed sharing this very special event with our family and friends. Deacon was excited about joining scouts this year...until he realized it wasn't all camp outs and treats and vowed to not go back until it was. We've "convinced" him to return and he quickly earned his Bobcat badge and will be earning his Wolf in a few weeks (if his mother has anything to do with it).

This year he played soccer again and is also giving basketball a go. While he isn't exactly athletic or aggressive, he has a true love for team sports. He's just happy to be out there, running around with his buddies. And no bird poop on the shoulder or ball to the face (TWO bloody noses in one game!) is going to keep him away. At least not when there are treats at the end. While we question his obsession with Skylanders we see that our son is growing into a fantastic, responsible, little man. He has learned how to clean his room the first time mom asks, that reading is for fun and not just for homework, and that helping others makes him feel good inside. He's just a good kid through and through and we sure appreciate and love him.

While Clayton would prefer I not even mention him in this letter, we would never be complete without him. "Incomplete" is how we often feel since he continues to travel often for work. He has been with Komatsu Equipment Company as an instructor for three years. While he doesn't seem to get to go anywhere too exciting (mostly tiny mining towns in Nevada and other sites in Arizona, Wyoming, Georgia, and Michigan), he continues to impress his coworkers with his knowledge of power generation and electric trucks. He even had the opportunity to help in some training classes with Spanish translation for some Peruvian classmates.

He's actually had the opportunity to use his Spanish a lot this year as we have gained a new Chilean sister-in-law (my brother Colin married Massiel in June this year). He used it again when we traveled to the Yucatan Peninsula in Mexico where he served his mission to celebrate our tenth wedding anniversary. With all that work traveling Clayton has done he was able to accrue enough air and hotel points to cover our trip!

Our little "honeymoon" was incredible! We visited several ancient Mayan ruins, sweated our brains out, drove all over the peninsula, swam in both the Gulf of Mexico and the Carribean Sea, missed our kids too much, went snorkeling for the first time, ate lots of local food, drank lots of Mexican Coke, unsuccessfully tried to avoid the pushy peddlers, and reunited with several wonderful people he had known on the mission. It was an amazing experience that helped us to appreciate even more all the little and big things we are blessed with. And what a way to celebrate ten years of wedded bliss!

Returning to his mission has been a dream of Clayton's for years. Actually we've seen several of our dreams come true this year. When our minivan's slow decline began to look fatal, we had to go shopping for a new family vehicle. Now Clayton finally has that pickup truck he has been fantasizing about for who knows how long. We're still a one-car family, but now we have somewhere to load all these kids and their stuff and four-wheel drive to get us there.

Singing in a "real" performance with my children has always been a dream of mine. I'm grateful Eliza was up for it. Running with my kids was another. This fall, Deacon and Eliza joined me for their very first 5K race! We had a blast running through the Color Me Rad course and the kids were still smiling by the end. I was very proud of both of them!

Seeing my children and their talents, personalities, and senses of responsibility growing is a dream come true too. I find myself almost daily saying aloud how awesome it is to be starting this stage of life. It was really hard to let that baby stage go, but it's a huge relief as well. It's liberating to have everyone walking, talking, dressing, pottying, and feeding themselves. While they may not do it well sometimes I'm just happy we're making progress. The future is looking pretty bright!

I've made a bit of progress this year too. Lo and behold, I've actually stuck with this little running hobby of mine. This year I celebrated my 32nd birthday by running from my doorstep to my sister Erin's doorstep, a total of 24 miles. A friend joined me for the second half and we were met with a banner and balloons at the "finish line" of Erin's driveway. A month later I completed my first full marathon, a harrowing experience as I had been so ill the week of and the freezing spring rain poured through the entire race. By the time I reached the finish line it was with incredible pride, pain, and relief that it was over. I vowed to never do that again. Unfortunately I had already registered and paid for two more races. So in August I ran a second (terrible, terrible) marathon and in October a third (slower, but so much more pleasant!) marathon, making three full marathons in five months' time. I've since sworn off full marathons, but am already signed up for my first triathlon, my first Ragnar relay race, and a half marathon next year. Stupid or ambitious, even I'm not sure some days.

As painful and lonely as long distance running is, it doesn't really compare to having to be a "single married" all the time. In fact I run to deal with being "on duty" all the time. It's gotten a lot easier to have Clayton gone so much, but we sure do miss him when he is. I continue to serve in the primary presidency in our ward and Clayton is the assistant pack leader. And when we're together we try to squeeze in a few family adventures whether it be going for mountain drives and hikes or trying new recipes in the kitchen. This year we made some traditional Yucatacan food, homemade corn dogs, canned applesauce, and homemade vanilla.

Right now our life is homework, Tooth Fairy visits, Saturday ball games, being lucky to get through only ten verses of scripture a night, coloring books, hanging up coats for the hundredth time, hotel rooms, phone calls goodnight, sticky fingers, and animated movies. But we love it. It's funny how one second it feels like everything is broken and a mess when the next second I find myself thinking "Life is good" and meaning it.

Life IS good. And we appreciate the friends and family that help make it that way. Along with our Heavenly Father and Savior who bless us more than we deserve. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to you and yours from us! Much love and well wishes!

You're Never Too Old...

...to cuddle with your teddy bear.

Ain't No Sunshine When He's Gone

We miss our Daddy/husband.

Sure, we're grateful for a good job that supports our household and that he is doing well in his career and that he gets to do all this traveling and learning and developing.

But sometimes this job stinks. It gets pretty old not having him around. And Skype hugs and kisses are a poor substitute for the real thing.

While I feel that I'm more of the optimist in our relationship, he definitely brings the sunshine into our life. He is our comic relief and sometimes we go a little too long without a good laugh when he's gone on these long trips.

Today, I stumbled on a video clip I took awhile back that is a perfect example of his joviality.

To preface...We had just finished watching the episode of "The Office" where the character, Michael Scott, keeps saying "I do declare!"



We turned off the TV. Joe headed back to our bedroom and I walked around the house turning off lights and locking doors. When I made my way to the bedroom I heard Joe, who was sitting in the bathroom, giggling.

And giggling and giggling and giggling. It went on and on, long enough for me to go find the camera, come back, and record a few minutes.



He had no idea I was standing by the door, much less recording.

Later he explained, that "I do declare!" line set him off and he just could not stop laughing. We've all had those moments.

I'm so glad I have this recorded. It's the best sound in the world. I can't help laughing so hard every time I watch it. Especially when my big, burly husband says things like "Oh, my tummy!" and "Shut up!" to...himself.

Define: "Sexy"

The other day my son asked me what "sexy" means.

After retrieving my jaw from my lap, I sputtered out some jargon about how it means "beautiful" but not in a very nice way and that it really isn't something we should be saying. By the time I reached the end of my muddled definition, his attention had already wandered and he was crawling around on the floor in search of the perfect Lego piece to add to his ship.

I don't know if he even gave it any further thought, but I sure did.

Hmm...What does sexy mean?

I mean there's the obvious definition that the world gives us in every song, picture, movie, TV commercial, magazine, billboard, etc.

Big boobs. Big booties. Big hair.
Big big big and tiny tiny tiny.
Tiny waists. Tiny eyebrows. Tiny clothes. Tiny appetites.
Rippling pecs. Ripping bodices.
Fast. Fast cars. Fast relationships. Fast money.
Bright colors and shades of grey.
And everything in between.

Sexy.

According to the dictionary...

sex·y/ˈsɛksi/

1. concerned predominantly or excessively with sex; risqué: a sexy novel.
2. sexually interesting or exciting; radiating sexuality: the sexiest professor on campus.
3. excitingly appealing; glamorous: a sexy new car.

Sexy.

Really??

None of the above is how I would define "sexy" because this is what I found to be "sexy" last week....

I went searching for my missing husband to find him in the cold garage, in his coveralls, covered in grease and oil, devoting his Saturday, his one free day, to fixing our one working vehicle.

Using his hands, time, knowledge, and skills to save us money and keep our old minivan going a few more miles.

Now that's sexy.

Eat your heart out, Channing Tatum.

Love is...

At 17 years old I knew what love was.

Turns out, I was wrong.

Then at 22, as a newlywed, I just KNEW what love was.

Wrong again.

Now, I'm 31, still married with four children, and I certainly know what love is.

Love is...

...tag teaming bath night.
...listening to country music even though you hate country music.
...saving the biggest piece of meat/peanut butter candy/Milano cookie for him.
...watching your husband dance with another girl...your daughter.
...going to Stake Conference with four young children.
...eating sushi when you'd rather have "real food".
...sitting through Les Miserables/Twilight/Pride and Prejudice.
...saying "no".
...saying "yes".
...laughing during *cough* loooove-making *cough*.
...calling to check-in every night.
...siding with your spouse.
...driving a beat-up mini-van instead of a brand new Ford pickup.
...staying home.
...shaving your legs even though it isn't Sunday.
...not having to shave your legs.
...emptying the dishwasher.
...TWO boxes of chocolate just to make sure she gets the kind she really likes.
...making chocolate chip pancakes for the kids while she goes for a run.
...knowing when to let the stupid, little things slide.
...giving your wife, who is applying mascara, a warning BEFORE stopping the car.
...looking past stretch marks and saggy, deflated, post-baby breasts.
...knowing when to keep it to yourself.
...cutting your shower short so there's enough hot water left for someone else.
...replacing the toilet paper roll the "right" way.
...leaving tomatoes off half of the dinner.
...knowing lost wedding bands don't really matter in the long run.
...not using the "D" word.
...bringing in the mail, pumping gas, and shoveling snow.
...trying to replicate his mother's recipe.
...telling your children how wonderful their mother/father is.
...leftovers and Netflix.
...not cutting your hair because he likes it long.
...clearing the table after dinner.
...never, ever, ever giving up, even when the rest of the world seems to be.

That's what I think love is. But maybe when I'm 83, I'll really know.

Nine Years of Wedded Bliss

Today is our ninth wedding anniversary!

Wowza! Where does the time go???

While nine years of wedded bliss is something to celebrate...there's no one here to celebrate it with me. Well, except for four kids. Three of which have snotty noses and gunky coughs and one of those which has yet another ear infection. Super.

While I nurse all the sickos back to health with some homemade chicken noodle soup (so what if it's over 100 degrees outside?!) and a few uninterrupted hours of Netflix, husband Joe is once again off on another business trip.

Sigh. So typical.

Even though he may be absent, I'm so grateful for the hardworking man he is and the dedication he gives to providing for our little family. I love the good, good person he is through and through. He is gentle and kind and sensible. He is calm and down to earth and has managed to balance my wild, erratic side out a bit over the our marriage. He has a sense of humor that sneaks up and attacks you when you're least expecting it and he's managed to keep me laughing for the last nine years.

I love you Joe! Thank you for marrying me and staying married to me through the thick and the thin.

And to celebrate, albeit solo, why not take a walk down memory lane? Here are nine memories and nine pictures from our wedding day back on July 11th, 2003.

1. I didn't sleep very well the night before our wedding. I woke--wide awake--at 3 am and couldn't fall back asleep. I decided to go ahead and start the beautification process for the early wedding ceremony. When I swung my feet over the side of my bed I heard a loud squish. Or was it more of a subdued splash? Either way, it was quickly apparent that my parents' basement had flooded during the night. Side note: the reception was held in my parents' backyard that evening.

2. Joe cried, nay, bawled through the entire temple sealing ceremony. I was really hoping he did so because he was overwhelmed with my beauty...And not because he realized there was no going back now.

3. For LDS couples that marry in the temple, it's rather a big moment when they exit the temple doors as a newly sealed couple. The family and friends gather around the doors and wait for this joyous moment. I didn't realize this and kind of made a hasty exit from the temple...sans new husband. I was quickly corrected and rerouted, reentered the building, grabbed the hand of my newly attained eternal partner, and then made a more graceful exit...this time with husband in tow. 

4. My dad owned a small limo business at the time and insisted on driving the newly married couple home from the temple. All 104 miles. With the privacy partition rolled completely down the entire way. Thanks Dad. Thanks a lot.

5. On the way home from the temple we stopped at a Sprint store so I could pay my overdue cell phone bill.

6. Our reception started at 6 pm. About 5:56 pm I realized I was so exhausted that I really didn't want to stand and smile anymore. But the show must go on, eh?

7. In an exuberant (translation: stupid) moment I jumped up into my groom's arms with a passionate (translation: awkward) embrace...and ripped the zipper out of the entire length of the back of my wedding dress. I spent that last hour of our reception held together with nothing more than two dozen safety pins and a prayer.

8. My dear sweet husband was so proper he wouldn't even kiss me "enthusiastically" until after the reception.

9. Confession: For all my teasing about his propriety...I was kind of--okay, really--nervous to get in the car and drive away from my family and friends and childhood home with nothing but my new husband and ZERO physical boundaries.

So, as I reminisce about our wedding day I'm realizing there was an abundance of clumsy, awkward, and calamity. And what a beautiful, awkward, magical, exhausting, calamitous, cherished day it was!

This is the Man I Married

Joe recently received an end of the year bonus. Woohoo! Extra money?! WOOHOO!!

But what does this man that I married, this father of my children do with that extra money???

Does he buy a new tool?

What about a new recliner?

Does he go blow it on a weekend out with the boys?

How about a new gun?

Maybe a down payment on a motorcycle?

He should spend it on some new clothes for himself.

Or maybe even a night out with his gorgeous wife (hee hee!).

Does he do any of that???

Nope. No. Nada. Not even close. No way.

This is what he does.

He spends three hours shopping around town for a swing set for his children only to bring home the next best thing...

A trampoline!

Then he spends his entire Saturday, his one and only true day off, to set the thing up.

And he even lets the kids help.

And we all know how truly "helpful" a 7, 5, and 3 year old can be.

What a guy! What a dad! We sure love you, Daddy Joe, for being the selfless, committed, loving, giving man you are. (Even if you always pull goofy faces when I take pictures.)

Happy "Will You Marry Me?" Day!

Nine years ago today...

...he showed up on my doorstep wearing his Sunday best. It was almost nine o'clock. I had on my baggy, blue and white striped pajama bottoms and my favorite green sweatshirt. He asked if we could go for a walk. I looked into his eyes and I just knew.

I begged for a moment to dash upstairs and change. There was no way on this green earth that I was going to be asked the biggest question of my life while wearing gnarly pajama pants. This occasion at least called for a pair of jeans.

Jeans on, we walked out of the house I shared with four other girls to "our" bridge. The one where we had walked many times before sharing memories from our childhoods, complaining about unjust college professors, discussing what we would change about our future lives, laughing at stupid jokes, planning the size of our families. ("Fifteen children", he had said. I just laughed and fell even more in love with him, hoping I could be the one to "help" with those fifteen children.)

That night we stood close together on the bridge. Three and a half months earlier we had stood a little farther apart, sharing our first dance on New Year's Eve, just as the countdown to midnight had begun. During that timorous dance, he trembled so badly that I couldn't help wondering if he was going to fall over in a dead faint right there on the dance floor. Now, he was steady and I was the one shaking.

Maybe it was the blowing wind...Maybe it was the jitters... Maybe I couldn't hear him over the sound of my teeth chattering (that was definitely one detail I had never included every time I had fantasized about this moment) but none of his words really registered in my head. I only remember him pulling out the ring box and looking at me, expecting a reply.

Ever true to my awkward and floundering nature, I made some goofy comment about, "Shouldn't you be on your knee or something?" 

On his knee he went, more words, and after another impetuous hint from me that he should slip the ring on my finger it was official. We were engaged.

(Never mind that my mom had already called the temple to tentatively reserve a wedding date.)

April 15th.

While the rest of the world dreads "Tax Day", I affectionately remember the day my husband asked me to be his wife.

I love you, Joe! Happy "Will You Marry Me?" Day!

The Absent-Minded Traveler

Last week it was my phone charger.

He accidentally grabbed mine instead of his, accidentally packed it in his suitcase, and then accidentally flew 1,839 miles to Georgia with my phone charger as his companion.

But it was just an accident. And a funny accident at that. We got a good chuckle out of it, especially considering what a habit he's making of buying new phone chargers in exotic lands like Wyoming and Arizona. I believe his current count of new cell phone chargers purchased in late night haste at 24 hour Super Walmarts is up to 3 now.

Funny, but "Please Dear...send me back my charger so I don't have to be both husbandless and phoneless for a whole week."

As he packed for his trip this week we joked about how he has learned his lesson now and will never make the mistake of packing my charger again.

And he didn't.

Instead...he packed my pants.

Gray Hair #437

Joe taught me a little trick right after we were married.

(Get your mind out of the gutter people!)

He showed me that the way to tell if your spaghetti noodles were done cooking was to gently throw one against the wall. (Have you heard of this method?)

If it falls off, the noodles need more time to cook.

If it sticks, the noodles are ready to drain and eat.

Handy, right?


Guess who else he taught this little technique to.

Size Does Matter

Every so often I come across a worn, yellowed sheet of paper.

It just seems to magically turn up as I am sorting and filing paperwork.

It's a receipt.

From a small town jewelry store.

For the engagement and wedding ring set that Joe purchased the day he asked me to marry him.

On April 15, 2003.

Eight years ago today.

That ring set cost all of 735 dollars.

Do you know what that price tag means to me?

It is a symbol of the humble and simple man my husband is. He doesn't need money or possessions or "bling" to illustrate how capable or manly or important he is. He didn't feel the need to go into thousands of dollars of debt just to prove something to me or the world. With that small ring he gave me his heart, his love, his loyalty, and his life.

I cannot claim to be so consistently pure of heart as he is.

Sometimes I look at this ring I wear on my left hand and get a little wistful, maybe even slightly jealous when I see my sisters and friends with their big fat bands and diamonds.

Sometimes I want something fat and ferocious on my finger too.

Maybe someday I will.

But can I tell you something?

I think there is a reason that yellowed piece of paper keeps "magically" reappearing in my pile of paperwork.

I need a reminder.

Of the good heart my husband has.

Of how simple and precious life and love and marriage can be.

Of what is truly important.

Funny how one little $735 gold wedding band set can be worth more than a whole pile of diamonds.

Happy "Will You Marry Me?" Day Joe! I love you!

Joe Dun Rill Gud on Hiz Tesst

Joe is back in town today {finally!} after taking and passing his big work test on Tuesday.

He was pretty nervous about passing, but I KNEW he would. He's one smart cookie, even if he says otherwise. Don't let the guy fool ya'. He's too humble for his own good sometimes. (It's one of the things I really love about him.)

I don't know much about what all this test entailed. Only that once passed he would receive a bonus, a raise, and important looking marks on his resume. Good enough for me!

So today we are celebrating his triumph with a holiday breakfast.


My mom has made Breakfast Casserole for Thanksgiving or Christmas for as long as I can remember. I'm not sure why she does it or even where the recipe came from. All I know is it's a tradition that all the son-in-laws in our family L-O-V-E.

Joe missed out on Breakfast Casserole this Thanksgiving since he had to work. After passing his test with flying colors, I thought a little Thursday morning Breakfast Casserole was in order.

Breakfast Casserole

10 slices of white bread (with the crusts trimmed off)
1 cup grated cheddar cheese
9-10 eggs, beaten
1 can cream of mushroom soup
1 lb. link sausages (cut into thirds)
1 and ½ cups milk
¾ tsp dry mustard
½ green pepper, chopped (optional, we have NEVER added this)
4 green onions, chopped (optional, again we have NEVER added this)

Grease a 9 x 13 casserole dish. Cover the bottom with bread slices so that you have one even layer of bread. Sprinkle sausage and grated cheese over bread. (No need to pre-cook the sausage links). Mix eggs, milk, soup, mustard, onions, and peppers. Pour mixture over bread, cheese, and sausage.

Cover lightly and refrigerate overnight. (This recipe can be made the morning of too. It’s just nice to save yourself the time spent slaving away in the kitchen while everyone else is enjoying the holiday fun elsewhere.) In the morning bake at 300 degrees for 1 and ½ hours.

Extra enjoyable and traditional with cherry turnovers on the side.

Those Dear Dimming Memories

(Ethel Blanch Green)
When my great-grandmother was a single young woman, she was a nurse transferring up to Port Angeles, Washington. Her travels were made increasingly difficult as she had become quite ill. By the time she reached her destination she could hardly walk, but still needed to transport her self and her trunk and bags to where she would be boarding.

A handsome young servicemen leaped to her aid, sweeping up her things, and escorting her to her new residence. This gallant handsome hero had made quite the chivalrous impression. He became my great-grandfather some time later.

(Ira and Ethel Bourm on their honeymoon)

Back to present day...

Joe and I were talking about our respective family histories. Joe began to comment on how remarkable my great-grandparents' first meeting was. I was surprised it had made such an impression on him and encouraged him to expound on what he meant.

"Well, you know, how she was a nurse and didn't she pass him on an air flight vision test even though he couldn't see very well just because she thought he was handsome? And she accidentally gave him too many shots. And then how they snuck off from a dance to a boat right before he was called to war..."

And then I couldn't hear him anymore because of how long and loud I was laughing.

As wonderful as Joe remembers how my great-grandparents' first meeting went... No, my great-grandparents did NOT meet on the set of the movie, Pearl Harbor.

How to Make Your Way to a Man's Heart

And that, my friends, is most definitely through his stomach. At least in Joe's case. And I must love him a lot because he has gained a good 70 pounds since our wedding day. As for my weight gain...well, let's not stray into dangerous waters today, shall we?

Our little how-to for today is how to make one of Joe's favorite recipes: Homemade Pasta Carbonara. Simple to make. Fattening beyond belief. Delicious to the taste. Husband made blissfully happy.


Pasta Carbonara (8 servings)

5 cups (1 package) uncooked mostaccioli or penne pasta
1 package bacon, diced
1 jar (8 oz) whole mushrooms, drained
1 and 1/2 cups half and half cream
2/3 cup butter, cubed
2 tsp dried parsley flakes
2 tsp minced garlic
12-16 drops hot pepper sauce
1 tsp salt, optional
2/3 cup grated Parmesan cheese
1/2 cup sliced green onions, optional

1. Cook the pasta according to package directions.

2. In a large skillet, cook bacon over medium heat until crisp. Using a slotted spoon, remove to paper towels to drain.

3. Drain most of the drippings from pan. Brown mushrooms in drippings; remove to paper towels. (Side note: I can't find jarred mushrooms in my town. I bought a little basket of raw mushrooms, washed and sliced them up, and sauteed them. I thought they worked just as well as the jarred mushrooms.)

4. Add cream, butter, parsley, garlic, pepper sauce and salt if desired to the skillet; cook and stir over medium heat until butter is melted.

5. Drain pasta; add to cream mixture. Stir in the bacon, mushrooms and cheese; heat through.
6. Remove from the heat.

7. Sprinkle with green onions.

Serve with a heaping bowl of plain green lettuce and carrots so you can say it's a balanced meal with a straight face. A few kisses sprinkled through out might not hurt either.

Who needs marriage counseling with a recipe like this?

Make sure to check back tomorrow for another how-to! Maybe how to make maternity jeans look sexy when you may or may not be pregnant and just need something that fits after eating too much Pasta Carbonara?

Love is Two Dozen Chocolate Donuts

I think a pretty fair indicator of how much your husband loves you is how willing he is to satisfy your pregnancy food cravings.

If he really, truly adores the ground you walk on, he will leap from the warm matrimonial bed at 2 am to go to the store to buy pickles and processed cheese, no questions asked, hail or high water be damned.

If he's just in it for the free housekeeping, he'll tell you to suck it up when you tell him how badly you need a Sizzler's baked potato with sour cream and butter "RIGHT NOW!".

It is the pregnancy food cravings indicator that showed me the true passionate love my husband has for me. Romeo, Edward Cullen, Brad Pitt... They've got nothing on my man.

Six years ago I was pregnant with our first son. Thus far in my pregnancy I had only experienced food aversions. Much nausea, wailing, and gnashing of teeth had filled the air of our little apartment for the space of several months. Joe and I both began to wonder if I would ever experience what every other pregnant lady on TV and the movies does: unexplainable and obscure cravings for ridiculous foods.

Then one night, it happened. At 3 am I woke with the most intense, burning NEED for a chocolate donut. I tried to ignore it, but I couldn't even fall back asleep. Not until I had a chocolate donut. I woke up Joe who was sleeping peacefully next to me. Off to the store he went and came back with two...DOZEN...chocolate donuts.

I ate one.

And that was that. I was satisfied! Back to bed I went, sleeping the sleep of a very content and happy pregnant lady. Joe was left awake with 23 untouched chocolate donuts. Ahhh. The bounteous rewards of true love.

Lest you think his love only extends to chocolaty bounds, another time NOTHING sounded good but an Olive Garden salad. And yes it HAD to be Olive Garden. Since the closest Olive Garden was three hours away, I had little hope that my stomach would be appeased. My white knight said, "Well, let's go!", and off we went on a three hour car ride just to get me an Olive Garden salad.

Truly, I pity those woman who are stuck in loveless marriages. The other day, a friend of mine was telling me that whenever she experiences those intense cravings during her pregnancies that her husband tells her it is all in her head and no way is he going to go get her ice cream.

Joe, on the other hand, calls me often on his way home from work asking if he should stop by Dairy Queen to get me something. Funny thing is...I don't ever really crave ice cream...

Hmm... You don't think he could be taking advantage of this pregnancy thing, do you?

Nah. I'm going to stick with his undying, eternally burning, passionate love for food me.

How Do I Know?

Yesterday, the kids and I sat down to watch Enchanted.

Don't you love that movie? I catch myself laughing every time we watch it. I mean seriously... How did they know this is exactly what I look like when I clean house?? Uncanny!


Yesterday, I couldn't help it; I caught myself choking up a bit too. Blame it on those darn hormones coursing through my blood stream, but I couldn't help but think about my own "Prince Charming" during this song:



How do I know Joe loves me???

He may not sport puffy sleeves and thigh-high boots or carry a sword. He's not too keen on balls and dancing. You won't ever catch him singing in public (or in private for that matter). I doubt he'd even be willing to stand on a moving bus if we got separated in a crowd.

It's really the little things...

Like how every morning when I go to open our front door, it's locked because he made sure it was on his way out to work at 4 am.

Like how he never complains (out loud at least) about the piles of dirty laundry or dishes.

Like how I start telling him how worthless I feel and he just makes jokes trying to change the subject and knock me out of my little pity-party.

Like how he'll change a stinky diaper instead of waiting for me to do it.

Like how he sends me a text every. single. night. letting me know he's just gotten off work and will be home shortly.

Like how I tell him I need a date night and he never argues about it being a waste of money AND then how he ALWAYS lets me pick the movie AND the restaurant. Every time.

Aren't happily-ever-afters grand sometimes?

So, how do YOU know???