P.S. Thanks...

With the Thanksgiving holiday on my heels, I woke up this morning thinking about all of the Thanksgivings in my life. The ones I remember the most clearly were at my Grandma and Grandpa Leavitt's house. My grandpa Leavitt pulled out all of the stops. There were mountains of mashed potatoes, plenty of olives for little kids to stick on their fingers, long tables crowded in their living room adorned with tall glasses and fabric napkins elegantly folded, and of course the star of the show was the turkey. It was a work of art, perfectly cooked and stuffed with celery and olive stuffing, and on the breast, was an intricate pattern of bay leaves and who knows what else carefully placed under the skin. I haven't seen a turkey to equal it since, especially since I can't remember the last time I was able to spend Thanksgiving at my Grandma Leavitt's house, and my grandpa passed away more than twelve years ago. But I think that Thanksgiving will forever remind me of him. Sometimes I feel cheated. I feel cheated whenever I step onto my grandma's walk and notice that there aren't any over-fertilized hollyhocks the size of my head anymore, when I realize that my kids won't ever see that clever twinkle that he sometimes got, and you knew that something exciting and fun was going to happen, and that they won't be able to have Thanksgivings like I had as a little kid. I know if he were here he'd tell me to knock it off, and be thankful for the people who I'll see around the table this holiday. And he's absolutely right. There's a lot to be thankful for, even with this economy.
I recently started carrying around a little pocket book that listed everything I could think of that I was thankful for, and so, here are a few things from it:
My thankful list:

~phone calls & text messages
~second chances
~spontaneity
~little hands to hold
~sunrises
~the ability to heal
~the ability to change
~Ben, Jerry, and their marvelous ice cream
~husbands
~mothers and fathers
~sisters and brothers
~grandparents
~family in all forms
~laugh lines
~winks
~friends
~people who read this blog
~warm conversations
~education
~anthems
~Don's mischievous smile
~giggles
~long conversations
~holidays
~cameras
~letters
~delete buttons
~forgiveness
~hope
~winter nights
~earplugs
~tickle tortures
~answered prayers
~hot chocolate
~ultrasounds
~hearing my baby's heartbeat for the first time
~the look on Don's face when I told him he was going to be a dad
~Ashley calling me a mean name when I told her she was going to be an aunt because she didn't believe me (apparently I've used that one too many times...)
~graduation being only three weeks away
~dinosaur pajamas
~Dorito eating-sisters
~memories
~morning sickness
~chocolate
~things that don't make me gag (tying my shoes makes me gag now...)
~seasons
~the fact that someone who is infinitely smarter and wiser than me is running the universe
~the chance to be a mother

"Out of All the Charlie Browns in the world, You're the Charlie Browniest"

This is for all of you Charlie Brown fans out there. This has got to be one of my favorite all time movies. My little nephew Jaden reminds me of Linus. He always carries a blanket around and sucks his thumb. This only makes bless Charles Schultz's name even more. He was genius I tell you, shear genius. And I have a mad crush on Snoopie.
The reason I have this on my blog is because I'm winterizing it. I should probably be winterizing my car first, but this is more fun. And although I'm usually strongly opposed to even listening to Christmas music before December (because when I was in high school due to choir and dance I'd have to start listening before Halloween), this year I'm pretty excited for Christmas. In fact, contrary to my beliefs I found myself listening to carols on Halloween. It's so hypocritical, I'm so embarrassed. I blame that dang Martha Stewart. I was in the grocery store the other day at the check out stand when I spotted a cover of her magazine with little felted stuffed animals and snowflakes and birds. I bought it. And I've been excited ever since, with literal visions of sugar plums dancing in my head. %#@* Martha.
And so, to assuage my hunger for all things Christmas, I've come up with this lovely play list. and at the top is Good 'ol Charlie Brown's Christmas music. Yes, Charlie, Christmas time is here, at least for me.

Irresistibly Maddening

"Love is the irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired."

~Mark Twain




If there's one thing I've learned about Don in three years, it's that he is a bed hog. For the first year of our marriage, he had me fooled into thinking that he was snuggling up to me. Almost every morning I'd wake up clinging to the last meager inches of the bed, usually in the fetal position. However, I figure that we even each other out; I hog the covers. I've given him a choice when it comes to this by explaining that: while the rest of my body may be mammal, my feet are, in fact, cold blooded. Naturally, they need more of the blanket to keep them warm, so it's either the blanket warms them, or his legs. Our first Christmas Don bought me several pairs of fuzzy socks to sleep in. "They're for me," he grinned, "so that you won't stick your icicle feet on me." They were irresistibly soft and kept my toes toasty. While I wasn't prepared for having a bed hog as a husband, I think it's safe to say that I wasn't prepared for Don. Not in the slightest.
He drives me crazy. And I'm not just talking about the bed hogging thing, or that he's more stubborn than I am (and that's saying something). It's also the fact that he likes to share our most embarrassing moments publicly. He's also the most maddening person in the world to argue with, because he's usually right. Which makes it even more infuriating. He's the only person that can really get under my skin, and the only person that I've loved enough to let them.

He's the best thing that ever happened to me.

Happy anniversary, Sweetheart. Here's to the tickle tortures, water fights, I-love-you kisses, dirty dishes, laughing til we cry, crying til we laugh, pee-green broccoli soup that we poured down the toilet because it was too horrible to eat, homemade ice cream, cinder-block walled apartments, tears on your t-shirt, disagreements, pillow talk, broken down cars, surprise flowers, sick-day balloons, partially cooked Thanksgiving turkeys, road trips, midnight movies, long conversations, and the fact that you save the last bite for me. Here's to us. You're my handy man, and fix everything that's broken or I break in my life, including me.

So to the rest of you, help us to celebrate our anniversary by doing a few things: first, listen to our song. It's conveniently located at the top of my playlist, it's called, "Songbird". And second, go kiss/tickle/hug that infuriating significant other in your life. Life really is beautiful.

Fall, in Love

It seems like this time of year Mother Nature decides to pop in a breath mint. Everything seems cooler... crisper. The trees start to blush on the mountains, and the sky seems a little bluer. I love fall. It awakens an irresistible urge to buy a red sweater and read The Witch of Blackbird Pond.
Every time I go to work, I drive down highway 89, past Brigham City and Willard's fruit stands that I've been watching with anticipation all summer long, waiting for the first barrels of sweet peaches and corn to appear. Fall is my baking season. My favorite thing to bake is apple pie. This is a tradition that was given to me by my mother. Every time I make an apple pie, the memory of my mother teaching Aubrey to bake one flashes back to me. (I think it would give her satisfaction to know that Aubrey is master apple pie maker, and her recipe is my favorite.) I watched as they artfully peeled the apples in one curl, and then taking the long, green peels, tossed it over their shoulders to see if they made initials. If they did, it was supposed to be the initials of a person who had a crush on you. Every time I roll out a pie crust I think of my mothers tan, practiced hands rolling out an almost perfect circle, something that I'm still jealous of because I haven't mastered it yet.
Fall is also the season that I fell in love. The first time I told Don I loved him, it was accidental. We were at Maple Canyon, hiking through the ocher and scarlet trees. In a quiet moment I thought about shyly whispering, "I love you", in his ear, but the knots in my stomach made me decide against it. However, before and after that cognitive thought I remember a drastic change in his demeanor. Before we had been running down the paths, and after it was a slow, pondering meander. He stayed quiet until we had reached the car and had driven for a few minutes, and then turned to me and said softly,
"that was the first time you said you loved me."
"I didn't say I loved you," I blinked. My mind whirled...Oops.
"You didn't?"
"Did I? ...uh, I didn't think I'd said it...I guess I do," I finalized.
I watched a slow smile spread across his face.
Fall is also the season that I got married in, the perfect season to be married, by-the-way. On Sept. 24 I will more than likely post something about it that might or might not be sentimental. Which is why my play list has a more sentimental note to it; I'm gradually warping it into my fall collection. So listen to it, and buy yourself a sweater.

Babies & Bag Tag

I have a couple of announcements to make: Yesterday Aidan and Raquel had their baby boy at around 7pm. His name is Bridger Goodwin and he was 7 lbs. 13 oz. He has the biggest cutest cheeks, which makes it look like he's 'storing nuts for the winter'.
Don's brother Jon and his significant other, Farrah also had a baby. His name is Avery Michael Brady, and he's around 7 lbs. and he was born on Friday.
I don't have any pictures of Avery, but I do of Bridger. However, I'm going to keep you all in suspense and not show them because you will all have to watch Raquel's blog every second of the day to see pictures of him. I don't want to post any before she does because it's her right, dang it!
Congrats to everyone, and keep up the good work! ...I'm sure you all will.
Moving onto the next item on my list, the contents of my bag. That's right. I've been tagged by Lacey. She showed the all telling contents of her diaper bag, and since I have no reason to carry around a diaper bag, other than the fact that I think they've exponentially improved in fashion in the past couple of years I decided on my purse. I thought about showing my book bag, but that would put all of you to sleep, and give you nightmares, believe me... So, the contents of my purse include.....uh, five different lip glosses (that's where they all went), and inhaler which I recently got this year due to the fact that I moved into an apartment where the owners had a live-in dog, which I am allergic to, and so now I need an one. Crappy. I also have a cell phone, which is more like a prop, since many of you know that I rarely answer it due to my anti-dependency attitude. There's also a scrabble letter from Subway (I'm trying for the hybrid), a comb, a receipt, some rubber bands, a yarn label for a skein color that I haven't been able to find, and therefore cannot finish the baby blanket I've been working on. There are also a couple of pens and pencils, keys, cold medicine, fingernail clippers, a tea party menu, and my wallet. I think that my wallet is a little bit more fun, it has something that I'm sure none of you have...I have a card measuring how many millas thick the paint on the road is. It's kind-of cool. It's also made out of metal, which means that if I ever needed to card my apartment it would be handy in more than one way. So that's it. I tag Neisha, Launi, and Meagan. Bag tag, you're it!! Stay tuned for pictures on Bridger and some other pictures that I have up my sleeve...