We're Cheap.

So, Matt and Kim asked us to do their wedding pictures.


Talk about pressure.  A wedding only happens once.  And we really don't have the equipment to do everything I'd like - we don't even own a decent flash, for heaven's sake, thus far we've shot only with natural light - so, it will be quite a challenge.  I'm excited but also SUPER nervous.

Last weekend we took some engagements, and you can go check them out here (there are two posts).  If you want to.


and I'm thirsty anyway...

I've always been a big hair loser.
Well, fine, not always.  I had thick hair until I was a teenager, and then it mysteriously started falling out.

When I was thirteen or so my mom took me to the doctor to have some tests done. (This is the ONLY doctor visit I had before my marriage, save a few to have warts burned off.  No lie.)  I kept finding bruises without knowing where they came from and I lost hair in such quantities, I was convinced I had leukemia or some life-threatening blood disease.  (Dramatic much?)  The tests, unfortunately, came back normal.

"Your blood vessels are just really close to the skin," the Dr. said, "and you probably don't lose as much hair as you think. It's just long, so you notice it more."

I heard that same thing - "it's long, so you notice it more" - many times over the next decade, when hairdressers noticed it piling up on the comb, or when I mentioned it to other people.  I got it, I got it.  Everyone loses about 100 hairs a day.  And they used to recommend women brush their hair 100 strokes a day, until studies showed that brushing too much makes hair brittle.
Normal, but don't brush too much.
Fast forward.

One thing I loved about pregnancy was that my hair was at least three times the usual thickness, shiny and lovely and growing.  Until the Great Post-Partum Hair Loss, that is.  Still, everyone said it was normal, and that some women even get bald spots.  Mine never got that bad.

So a couple months ago, when my hair started coming out in handfuls every time I showered, blow-dried, or brushed my hair, I didn't worry too much at first.  Blame it on the hormones! Hormones! Hormones!  Surely it's normal! Normal! Normal!

Sorry about that .... anyway.

The hair loss was annoying, but the dizziness was worrying.  And still it took a full-blown UTI* to get me in the clinic to take care of it.  More blood work done; thyroid levels checked.  Sure enough, my thyroid isn't functioning the way it should, (high TSH and low t3, t4,) but we won't know exactly what to do until I get a few more tests done.  Just what we need right now.

Now I know that I'm not crazy.  About the hair loss, at least.

*"Bring on the Rain," or something.  I've had a broken wrist, two different infections requiring antibiotics, and a diagnosis of a lifelong thyroid problem within the past 10 weeks.  And you thought I was joking about funding the hospital!


Continuing a Solid Family Tradition

I have to tell you, this relationship has been planned for a long time.

It's been well over a year since Kiana, Slice and I decided that Kim would be a good match for Matt.  We discussed it many, many times over the subsequent months.  Indeed, the only thing left was to convince the parties involved.

(This family tends to marry friends from high school. We're 6 for 7 in that category so far.)

Of course, we never predicted it would happen this fast - Kim was still in high school at the time, and Matt was 'writing' someone else - but it worked out perfectly, all the same.  No time like the present, I say!

She is the real deal, this girl.  Beautiful inside and out.
Really, how many girls do you know who don't wear (or need) makeup for their engagement photos??


almost compensated for missing HP 7

Wednesday night Slice and I went to a movie for the first time in, I don't know, eighteen months at least.
We decided to use the movie passes that we've had forever and see the late show of True Grit before it's gone from the local theater.  Our friend/SIL's brother agreed to come sit at our house after Liam was asleep.

So when we got to the theater we handed over the passes and were ushered in, and to our pleasant surprise, there were two bags of popcorn waiting for us "on the house."  Then we asked for some drinks, intending to pay for them, and the ladies wouldn't let us pay for those either.
Also - there was only one other person in the entire theater.

Two tickets to a movie (nearly to ourselves) + two bags of popcorn + two drinks = one free date night.
There is no charge for awesomeness!

And now for the Feature Presentation:
Liam does the inchworm, golfs, and reads the JW bible.  For reals.
....he kept screaming when we took it away.



Last week we finally got our light fixture and piano mirror installed.

I would still like a shelf for my music, a new couch cover, and some things on the wall above the piano....

but we'll call it done for now, shall we?


And on the fifth day....

the weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth (and hopefully, the headaches) ceased.  The job hunt commenced.

We've sent resumes out to 15 different places so far, from Arizona to Texas to Virginia to China.  I'm an adventurous kind of girl, so I'm getting excited about the prospects of the various places.
(But not too excited, you know, because we all know what happens when I get too excited about anything.)


We should hear back and start interviewing within the next few weeks.
Now if I can just find a cause/cure for the dizzy spells, weight loss and INSANE amount of hair loss I am currently experiencing, we'll be good to go.
After I vacuum and lint-roll my entire household, that is.


Wherein the dregs of my bitter cup are flung into the Internet, and then baked into cupcakes.

Perhaps a decade ago, a dimpled young Slice started hanging around the Roosevelt City golf course.  He picked up balls that were on the driving range, hit them, picked them up again, and took them into the pro shop.  (With permission, of course.)
He's been there ever since.

Nearly three years ago, Slice and I were newly engaged, and we went to visit Slice's boss-friend.  This boss-friend said to me, "Are you sure you're ready to be the wife of a golf pro?"  And I said, honestly, "I really have no clue what I'm getting into. Maybe that's a good thing."


Now it's 2011.  But this here is Duchesne County, where "progress" is a bad word, and "nepotism" is pretty much synonymous with "politics," and by the way, the politics at that golf course are worse than any other workplace I have ever seen.  (Even our school district!)

Things have been ugly at times; accusations, proposals, late nights and pride.  Don't think I haven't tried convincing my Slice that perhaps this is not where we want to end up -- you step on the wrong toes, you're outta here -- and now I don't have to say that I told him so.

And as if losing a 10-year job wasn't bad enough, it comes three months after we signed papers on a house.  Four months after I quit my job at the school.  Two months after we decided to "stick it out" until March, when Slice's winter job fell through and I broke my wrist and I didn't think I could handle being at home alone with my 6-month old.

So for two months we've been living on savings and my jobs and other miraculous sources of income, just waiting for March to come.  It's not coming.

Thanks, guys!


If this is Tasting the Sweets of Success...

I have to believe that "losing a job" because of "downsizing" or unfortunate circumstances or whatever is different from being (pardon the expression) intentionally screwed over by the one person who knew exactly what it would mean to you, and had the power to make it a little less painful but didn't.

Not that it really matters.

(There's a difference, right?)


How many plumbers does it take to make a house call?

No, really.

How many?

We're up to five now.  Don't worry though ... we're chill ....


And now it's time for us to host a Luau. Or something.

Slice is really picky about his rice.

I mean, really picky.

I learned early on in our relationship that you ALWAYS wash rice before you cook it, and also, that not all rice is created equal.

(If you ever say "rice is rice" in his company, he may not correct you, but he will give you a Look.  Because in Japan, rice is not rice.  There are different varieties in different areas, and some are better than others, and sticky rice is the only edible kind.)

SO.  For two years now, we've been on the hunt for a good rice cooker.  I've learned how to cook it pretty well by myself, even on an electric stove, but it's tricky and messy and sometimes time-consuming.
The special rice cookers that Slice is partial to have all kinds of options - but are generally in the $100+ range.  Ahem.  Hence, the rice cooker purchase has been on the back burner (so to speak) for quite a while.

Last weekend Slice worked in Vernal for a few days.  He came home from Wal-Mart with "a housewarming gift," he called it; I got nervous.  But then he pulled out one of these and, turns out, it cost only $39.

Last night was the trial run.  Hawaiian haystacks were on the dinner menu (well that's a lie, we never ever have a dinner menu), and Slice returned from the grocery store all in a dither.  He opened the lid: WONDER OF WONDERS.
Beautiful rice!  Cooked to the perfect sticky-ness!
I am not joking, he did a big victory dance right here in the kitchen.

This rice cooker is changing our lives.


Liam at 8 mos

I know, I know, you're thinking that Liam smiles and giggles ALL the time.  Well, he doesn't.

Here is the cold hard evidence.

Sure, he's half-smiling in two of these ... but you get the idea.

(Those cheeks!)

Also, he's NOT a very big help when it comes to folding warm laundry.


The fam, it grows

So now that it's official ... let's talk about rings!

(See: previous post on secrets.  Not that this WAS a secret when I wrote that post, because um, they've only been "dating" for like a month .... but anyway.  You understand.)

Last weekend Slice and I made a double trip to the Wasatch Front.  He left Friday morning with his dad, I left Saturday morning with the baby and Matt, and we all returned Saturday evening.
The plan was to meet up at Rocky Mountain Diamond for some ring-shopping, buying, and fixing.  Slice bought my ring there almost three years ago (weird), and I finally decided I wanted my wedding band attached.  Call me indecisive.  Whatever.

Matt called me at 7 am Saturday, and the first thing he said was, "Kim is coming with us."

Insert: awkward pause.

See, Kim is who Matt was shopping for.  But he wanted to surprise her.   So she rode with us to Salt Lake, and we dropped her off at Temple Square while we shopped, and I know she knew what we were doing but none of us said anything about it, it was just awkward for the entire day.
But I had never been ring-shopping before - Slice having picked the most perfect ring ever without my knowing it - so I was curious and quite excited.

Anyway, we met at Rocky Mountain.  If you go there, tell 'em we sent you.  (Then they'll send us $50.)  We really like the place.

The rings!  So many to choose from!  And amazingly, I didn't see a single one that I like better than my own.  I swear I'm not biased either.
But what is this about NO ONE buying gold wedding rings anymore?  Jewelers don't even stock yellow gold because, apparently, it's so "out of style."  This is a tragedy unto me.

Matt found the ring, picked the diamond, got a sweet deal, and we left my rings to be saudered into one.  Then Matt picked up Kim and we all went to lunch at Toaster's.  Yum.

We did some tile shopping but didn't buy any; I drove home but Matt didn't sleep.

He proposed yesterday, and I'll tell that story after I hear the details. (!)

So, my recently-returned brother/sidekick/bodyguard has gone and asked Kiana's best friend to join our family.

I gotta say, I'm really pleased.  I like her a lot.


Just to make me appreciate it

Two things.

One: The other night (morning) I woke up around 3:30, and could not get back to sleep.   Toss, turn, curl up, cuddle, turn again, you know the drill.  The baby fussed a little bit at about 4:30, and although he promptly went back to sleep, I nudged Slice.
"Babe.  I'm worried he might be cold."
"Well, I've been awake for an hour now, and I haven't heard the heater go on once."
Slice climbed out of bed, and came back to report.

(Slice:)"Did you turn the space heater on in his room?"
"And I made sure to turn it off after I put him in bed....."
"I never turned it on."
"Hmm. Well, it's been on in there all night, so his room is warm.  But the thermostat says 50, so I better go downstairs and check on it."

He left and came back again, having simply flipped the switch on the furnace and flipping it back on.  The heater turned on, I finally fell asleep, and the baby stayed warm all night.  We still have no idea what happened.....

Two:  Since I am me, and if you are me things never go the way you plan them to,
and since money is needed for eating and living and other such things, (LAME)
-also maybe so I gain a new appreciation for working mothers-
I am (you guessed it!) gaining a new appreciation for working mothers.

It's not that awesome, in case you're wondering.

But since Slice is wonderful and NOT ONLY entertains our son for hours every day,
but also cooks, cleans, does laundry, hangs coat racks, and still offers me footrubs at night if I want them,
I can't really complain.
I love that guy.

(Have I mentioned that?)