A bunch of random pictures that I have no clue what to do with…

March has been a bit of a whirlwind. More of a tornado, really. The kind of tornado that takes you to a random land like Oz and then decides not to help you find your way back home. Between Ryan’s less-than-ideal work schedule, church activities, and crazy patients at the hospital, life has been a little hectic.

Case-in-point…there was a solid four day stretch last week where the only time I saw Ryan was when we bumped into each other in bed. My worst suspicions were confirmed when he showed me his client billable hours for last week alone…over 100! Oh the glamorous life of an accountant.

Anyhow, this is a post about March. And it’s random happenings around our house. So without further ado, an awkward little photo dump:

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1. Being brave and embracing the silk/printed pants trend. Winner winner chicken dinner!

2. In a miserable attempt to help replace my missing husband, I have been splurging and buying fresh flowers for the kitchen table. A few favorites so far, white tulips and hot pink ranunculus. Surefire way to make you smile every single time you walk past the table.

3. Sunday evenings were made for walks in the park. In our pajamas no less. You had no idea we were so classy, did you?

4/5. Evenings in Berkeley refining our taste buds with friends. This cute little French place offers take-out only, complete with picnic tables and glass bottle sodas. Pretty much heaven.

6. Just about the only time I actually set the table anymore is when we are having company. The rest of the time we pretty much eat on the couch. True story.

7. Ryan and I were the Ward Specialists for the Youth Roadshow this year. Imagine convincing 30+ youth to wear ridiculous costumes and simultaneously sing and dance on stage in front of a live audience. It’s like herding cats I tell you. But it also ended up being an awesome experience, and I kind of feel like I have 30 children now. They really pulled it off and I had a proud mama moment, that’s for sure.

So long March. May April bring husbands a-plenty and a few more excuses to pull out my camera like a mad woman.


On Tubs and Writer’s Block

IMG_2194Right now the wind is throwing itself against my window with enough force that I can hear the glass shaking. It’s screaming too – that kind of howling that makes you want to nosedive under the covers or take a really long, really hot bath. At least, that is what gloomy evenings do to me; they make my old bones crave a good soak.

Ryan likes to tease me because I generally stay in the tub until I am well passed prune-y and I have had to refill the water at least three times because the water keeps getting cold. Baths are my happy place. My “me” place. My very best thinking happens in the tub. I mean really, it is my life’s ambition to own a bathtub in which I can lay down flat and not touch any of the sides. That would be bliss I tell you. Possibly even celestial.

Lately I have been taking more baths, which is probably a direct correlation to the stew that seems to be my thought process. You see I have been feeling a little bit of something that I don’t really know how to describe; there just isn’t a perfect word for what I feel. I’m not unhappy; on the contrary, I am feeling so very aware of my many blessings.

IMG_2196So, for the sake of naming a seemingly nameless sensation, I will call my current emotional state one of being “in-between”. Basically I feel kind of like one chapter of my life is down to the last sentence but the author (aka me) is suffering from writer’s block and can’t quite seem to figure out how to start the next section.

Until I figure out what the heck to do next (babies, grad school, house hunting, oh my!) you can find me in the bathtub, meditating. But that’s probably not something you really want to see. For your own sake.


Through some beautiful form of grace, this morning found me in exactly the right place at the very precise moment that I needed to be there. You see, I have had some things on my mind lately. Sacred and precious things, but scary things nonetheless.


And then this morning I found myself standing in front of one of the most holy places in this otherwise dingy world, and I could literally feel a tangible difference in the air. It felt clean, it felt fresh. It felt right. My worries felt like less of a burden and more of a privilege.


And then an apostle of the Lord spoke to us, bearing his special witness of the divinity of Christ. I could have listened all day.


This evening I am grateful for the gospel. I am grateful for modern day revelation. And I am so very grateful that I have access to it.

A Little Chicken Soup for Your Soul (at my own expense)


So you need a little pick me up today? As luck would have it, I have a little embarrassing story that may prove to be just the trick.

First, a little background:

I have been doing trying to do Crossfit for the last few months. While I am really loving it and finally starting to see results (YES!) it has really required me to step out of my comfort zone and learn how to lift real weights like a big girl. However, I am too cheap to join an actual Crossfit, so I have been following this website and making do at the local gym.

Back to the good stuff:

So today’s workout of the day required pull-ups, which I totally suck at. Thus I improvised by attempting to do reverse pull-ups using the bar rack. Everything was going well, and I was even feeling pretty proud of myself. Maybe even checking myself out in the mirror just a little (you know you do it too). My mind at that moment may have looked a little like this “daaannng girl. You looking fiiiine. Bring on swimsuit season. You’ve got this”. My unsuspecting self probably even had a stupid little smile plastered on her face.

Then, BOOM.

I found myself flat on my back with a few HEAVY weights laying on top of me. Insert inappropriate expletive here. One that rhymes with pit. Oh, and unfortunately, my headphones were in. So I’m pretty sure I yelled that bad word extra loud. Awesome.

As I lay there soaking in a puddle of sweaty embarrassment, a bunch of old ladies gathered around me asking if I was ok. You know you’ve really hit rock bottom when 70-year-old women in neon pink jogging suits look at you with pity in their eyes.

So I did what any person in their right mind would do. I jumped up. Pretended I was fine and brushed off their help. Unfortunately I’m pretty sure I have a bruise the size of China on my left leg. Due to its exact location, I’ll spare you and not post a picture.

Moral of the story: Never pretend you are hot enough to be cocky at the gym and avoid checking yourself out in the mirrors at all costs. Cause the universe will come around and bite you square in the bum (or the leg in my case). 



Busy Season Hate Mail

Dear Tax Season,

What’s the big idea, taking my husband away for a whole three months? Why are you such a bully?


My Ryan is working more and more with each passing day. Last night he didn’t even get home until after midnight. Then the sweet man had to carry me to bed because I fell asleep on the couch after watching “The Following” because I was too scared to go to bed alone (note to self, never watch crazy serial killer shows while home alone). Poor guy.

Also, I think you are making me fat. I eat when I am bored, and you sir, are boring. What’s a girl to do when she has no cute husband to entertain her? Pick up a hobby? Can my hobby be watching re-runs of Grey’s Anatomy and laughing at all the absurd medical lingo while simultaneously drooling over McSteamy? I have watched so many episodes lately that I am beginning to find deep, impactful lessons in the drama unfolding at Seattle Grace. At least you made me recognize that I have a real talent (and maybe even a career?) for analyzing soap operas. Thanks for that.


Oh, another reason you stink…you are fabulous at ruining the weekends. Saturdays are supposed to be filled with picnics in the sun, brunch and date-nights. Now they consist of early mornings dropping Ryan off at the train station and going back to my empty home to whine and moan. On the plus side, my house is pretty much spotless because of you. I am so bored I have revamped my OCD cleaning tendencies.


While I appreciate that you provide my husband employment and thus theoretically paid for the super cute new shirt I ordered online today, you still suck. Can’t it be April 15th already?

Go and harass someone else,