Sunday, April 26, 2009

Pants story part 2: How I know my husband loves me

You may be reading the title of my post and wondering to yourself, "Hmm, I don't remember reading a "Pants story part 1" on this blog." Don't worry, you are right. It has not been written yet. I am recounting in reverse order because a recent hilarious incident reminded me of an older hilarious incident; and I believe they both deserve to be shared with the internet.

So any of you who know Adam very well understand that he does not have a great relationship with pants. Or any article of clothing for that matter. Adam probably would have preferred it if that first Adam (of Adam and Eve) had never discovered his nakedness. So being a dentist works for Adam because scrubs are typically rather thin articles of clothing and require no additional layering, which is a serious issue for him. If you spend much time with Adam, you know that his outfit, about 90% of the time, consists of the thinnest material T-shirt, thinnest material shorts and flip flops. And you can guess what he does NOT sleep in.

So imagine my great surprise when Adam woke up one morning wearing a plaid pair of pajama pants. In fact, I distinctly remember being shocked in my sleep when I went to put my cold feet on his usually warm legs and there was fabric there! Of course, I was asleep so I didn't question him then, but we both kind of looked at each other like, "huh?" as soon as he went to get out of bed. Then he began to understand as he vaguely recounted the dream he had had.

For some reason unknown to either of us, Adam found himself without pants and in the presence of people of the opposite gender in his dream. So, bless his heart, he sleepwalked to his closet, got out a pair of pajama pants, made the ultimate sacrifice by putting them on, and went back to bed. That is true love. He put those pants on for me folks. He must truly adore me.

Incidentally, it is the annual no pants day this Friday. Oh, if only. Stay tuned for the pants story part 1.

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Ok, now I want to know what you really think

Thank you for all of your well wishes. It means a lot to me. But now I want advice, criticism, concerns, suggestions, insight, etc. Tell me what you think I should do. And don't say that it is my decision; I know that Adam and I are plenty capable of making this decision together and dealing with whatever consequences either decision would bring. But this is part of studying it out in my heart and mind, if you will. Here are a few of the limited details:
-I would go three nights a week from 6:30-9:20.
-The school is in Ontario, twenty minutes away.
-It's a four year program, including summer terms.
-I have about a 2/3 of the cost scholarship.

Ready, set, go.

Saturday, April 18, 2009

Crazy exciting week

The last 8 days have been filled with firsts for me. So let's start with the first first:
1-Eli and I participated in our first Easter egg hunt last Thursday. I haven't done that since I was a small child. More importantly, Eli ENJOYED an organized activity.
2-We went to the horse races with the Spencers. I had never been before and it was so fun. I had no idea that there were so many intricate details involved in betting, breeding, racing and gambling away your money-there's five bucks I'll never see again.
3-I spoke in Sacrament meeting on Easter. It was the most relaxing Sacrament meeting of my life; I told the bishop that I would be happy to just sit up on the stand whenever he liked.
4-Number four is the real reason for this post so I am going to CAPITALIZE EVERYTHING FOR EMPHASIS AND USE LOTS OF EXCLAMATION POINTS!!!!!!!!!!!! TO GET YOUR ATTENTION:
I GOT INTO LAW SCHOOL. AND I GOT A SCHOLARSHIP. OH MY GOSH. If you know me at all, you understand that this has been a dream of mine since before I was born. Not sure what we are going to decide yet but I am very happy, excited, scared and nervous. We would appreciate it if you could all keep us in your prayers while we sort through all of the details and try to decide whether or not I am going to do this.
5-On Monday, I participated in a blood study at the hospital. I sat there for 2 hours while they put three ivs in me and drew blood. And I got 200.00 for it-which unfortunately seems like a lot less money than I thought it did before I knew that I got into law school.
On Tuesday, read the aforementioned post: went to Dancing with the Stars and passed out.

So let's see, just to recap: horse races, got into law school, fainted, went to Dancing with the Stars. Never done any of those things in 25 years; did them all this last week. I wonder what next week holds.

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

That was so awesome and strange

I knew that I was going to an episode of DWTS last night; I did NOT know, however, that I would get to be in my own little personal episode of HOUSE. Thank you for all your well wishes; I did wear a darling dress of Ashley's so good call everyone. Oh my gosh people. This has been the strangest anomaly of a very eventful and exciting week; I have had more first time experiences this week than I can ever remember in 25 years of existence. I will explain the rest of what I mean in an upcoming post when I am ready to talk about it-this one is devoted to DWTS. It was utterly delightful until the last ten minutes, which I neither saw nor remember being there for. I didn't know that Steve was the one to go until we were walking out of the studio. I haven't even watched to see if my face was on TV right before I passed out. I thought it was. I thought as what's her face judge was talking that I was honestly going to die on camera. You know on all of the House preludes how they shoot from the patient's perspective and the world like fades away as they slip out of consciousness? That was me. I tried to stand up and applaud and couldn't. I knew there was only ten minutes left and if I could just survive without barfing into my purse or falling over and splitting my head open, I would be fine. Anyway, I would love to see what my face and eyes looked like right at that moment. We sat right behind the judges and had excellent seats to see nasty Carmen Electra do her striptease, RASCAL FLATS play while Chelsea Hightower and that other Utah chick danced with their partners. It was amazing. That was the highlight of the show. The dance floor, and really the entire studio, is so much smaller than you would ever guess. And yeah, let's just say Lil Kim has some amazing anatomy, even if it is fake. And Jewel is flawless in person. So when it was over they had a bunch of EMTs come over and give me Sprite and Mike and Ikes and escort me to the side to take all of my vital signs and crap. Yeah, I was that obnoxious person. It was so unbelievably embarrassing. They made me sign a bunch of release forms and I had to beg them to let me leave on foot. It was comical. This stuff does not happen to me. Anyway, I was and am fine-I just hadn't eaten very much, was wearing a tight girdle to keep, ah hem, things in place, had taken Excedrin for a headache, had been sitting in the lights for 4 hours, and had given blood the day before. So that seems like enough circumstances to make me a little ill. Plus, it made it way more interesting. Marie Osmond and I have now been seen by the same (pretty cute, I might add) EMT. So there you go. We had a blast. Sorry, no cameras or phones were even allowed inside the studio. Ashley took one picture in the car-not very exciting-but I will pirate it from her blog when she posts it.

Monday, April 13, 2009


I get to go to the taping of Dancing with the Stars in LA tomorrow! Does anyone have a fancy cocktail dress that is neither jeans nor white that I can borrow? Yikes-not a thing in my closet meets such description!

Thursday, April 9, 2009

I really want to cut my hair like this:

not the fluffy chick on the right, the hot one on the left. Look, I know I am not going to transform my skin into smooth brown and beautiful, nor will I have hair that slick and pretty, but something has got to happen here; I think pretty much everyone is tired of what Adam so lovingly calls my "whale spout" hairdo:

Monday, April 6, 2009

Happy Birthday little son

Eli. Dude, it is your birthday. You have made it through two whole years of life. I would congratulate you, but I am actually going to reserve some of the credit for your survival for myself. The other day we were discussing with friends the legitimate reasons-and there are many-why doctors and nurses feel the need to interrogate parents at the urgent care clinic about why they wait to bring their "hurt" children in. I commented that we would be there 3 times a day if I never waited. Enough said about that. I love you E.

I never have been a sappy parent. But your dad went to Louisville for a conference last week so we had several days to spend some quality time together. On the last night before he came home, I walked into your room to check on you-I love doing that because you are so sweet and adorable when you are asleep and I can hold you and cuddle you and pretend that you are being affectionate back...anyway. I tickled your arm for a minute, and waited for you to hold your arm out and implicitly ask for more in your sleep. I love that. Tears started falling down my cheeks, and I realized that you are not a baby, but a boy. And soon (relatively) you will be a man. And soon someone else will love you as much or more as I do. And soon you won't need me for every single little thing, like getting you a cup or milk or turning on Mickmey, cleaning ketchup out of your hair, or following you around the house aimlessly with no other purpose than to let you drag me by the pointer finger.

And I approached sadness...don't get me wrong: I am not bemoaning the fact that you are growing up, or stating the obvious that you "are getting so big!" or wishing for you to be a baby, no no no. I just took a small moment to pause and be grateful for this very short window of time I have to be the absolute, most important, numero uno person in your life. Because it won't last, I know that, and really, I don't want it to. Someday, I want someone else to love you like I love your dad, take care of you the way we take care of each other and I want you to recognize us as those who taught you not only how to do that through our example as parents, but loved you enough to want the same for you. I recognized that my role as your mother is to, first, give you life, second, take care of your basic needs, third, love you unconditionally, and fourth, release you so that you can do the same. It was basic and profound, happy and sad, humbling and exhilarating to realize how important and how fleeting my most demanding responsibilities to you really are.

I adore you Eli. I think you are the coolest and most wonderful boy around. You drive me crazy and test me in more ways than I could have possibly imagined everyday. You teach me about the important things in life and I really hope that I am doing the same for you. Happy happy birthday baby boy-here's to one more year without a "necessary" trip to Urgent Care.