tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7114824203906994622012-02-16T06:37:25.321-08:00Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.comBlogger1871100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-38858623713816909432012-02-07T13:38:00.000-08:002012-02-07T20:04:14.693-08:00

Man, blogging is hard. Okay. So yes—I am pregnant. As if you didn't already know. (Say that in Scuttle's voice—go on, do it). 15 weekaroos along, and the fact that I'm not passed out on the couch right now honk shooing the shoo out of honk is a sign that I must be feeling better. This past month or so has been a long blur of exhaustion and total lack of motivation to do anything. My

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-56487852737827903942012-01-22T21:08:00.000-08:002012-01-22T21:20:01.784-08:00

Tonight I made a new recipe for dinner. Mac n' cheese, kids. Mac n' cheese. (Originally, I had planned to use this recipe, but the site wouldn't load tonight, so I used the other instead. They are very similar.) And then I tried out a new cookie bar recipe for dessert. And what's this? Now I'm blogging?!? Is there no end to what daunting tasks I might take on tonight? Anyway. So, remember Clara?

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-24070521740423593102012-01-15T20:48:00.000-08:002012-01-15T21:59:13.434-08:00

Well hey! Howdy! Hey there guys! How in heaven's name have you been? I mean, it's just so good to drop in and say hello! How's 2012 treating everyone? We've been keeping things pretty low-key around here, as is our normal January fashion. So far 2012 has brought along coughs and colds, the flu for me, a super messy house, a new semester for Tom, an adoracute new vocabulary for Clara (she says "

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-20384288203830741862011-12-27T22:12:00.000-08:002011-12-27T22:12:49.384-08:00

(presented without commentary.) (because I'm a laze.)

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-35393937094548420132011-12-22T16:19:00.000-08:002011-12-22T16:19:38.503-08:00

This is what would have been sent out, if I'd ever gotten my act together and printed off Christmas cards and sent them in the mail the way most normal people do. But alas. My act has yet to be togethered. There's always next year. Merry Christmas, friends.

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-45144853971253628122011-12-15T21:47:00.000-08:002011-12-15T21:47:36.136-08:00

He did it, folks. He went and turned 30 without a hitch. Well, aside from his birthday falling on the same day as finals. Which it has done EVERY year, consequently. A shame, really. And I thought I had it bad since my birthday's in the summer—so I didn't get to bring cupcakes to class. I was always so jealous of the kids who got to bring cupcakes to class. But

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-64041449915194092052011-12-11T19:22:00.001-08:002011-12-11T22:20:17.934-08:00

Well it pretty much came down to this: If I didn't blog tonight I'm pretty sure I never would have again. Just've—that's right—just've fallen off the ol' blogosphere and been lost forever. The worst part is that I'm dangerously tired, so there's no telling where that could lead, let alone all the spelling errors and fragmented thoughts that make not a whit of sense. But

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-89922953076765850362011-11-06T19:59:00.000-08:002011-11-06T19:59:10.630-08:00

This past week has had its fill of headaches, stomach aches and other aches in all sorts of dastardly places but I dare say we might, just might, be emerging from the depths of sickdom ready to take on a new week of welldom. Isn't it so fun to add dom to the ending of everything? It reminds me of that snootsworth phase I went through, only dom is much more

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-74056120143776738292011-11-01T20:16:00.000-07:002011-11-01T20:16:26.556-07:00

Well it may be our anniversary, but alas, that hasn't stopped me from feeling ugly on my insides because I seem to have caught the little bug that was ailing Clara last week, and it hasn't stopped Tom from feeling like a zombie-head because this kid is highly underslept these days. (Zombie-head? Underslept? Sure. Just go with it.) Frankly, I'm just glad that's

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-60404361973123071782011-10-30T19:37:00.000-07:002011-10-30T19:37:18.645-07:00

Oh, here we are just being our usual romantic selves. I mean, it's almost like a scene right out of a movie. Right? Or then there was the time he surprised me at work when I was at that one place answering phones. Again—like straight out of a movie. We're just so movie-eey sometimes.

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-85635124726153953982011-10-26T22:04:00.000-07:002011-10-26T22:10:50.535-07:00

Well let's see. It's Wednesday night. For us, Halloween festivities officially start on Friday night. • Clara's costume is about 80% done. • Mine is probably 95% done. • Tom's? I'd give it a disappointing 40%. The pressure is on, dear Tom Thomas. Clara's costume is looking pretty darn cute. If only we could think of a way to get her to wear it—then we'd really be in business. Any time we come

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-84458068140684440512011-10-20T13:38:00.000-07:002011-10-20T14:48:02.257-07:00

Behold—the most perfect looking AND tasting monkey bread to ever come out of an oven fire. (With the oven cleaner placed strategically behind it.)  I'm not much of a breakfast maker. Every morning Clara gets the same thing: oatmeal. She doesn't mind. She can't talk. Occasionally if I'm in a really giving mood I'll make eggs. But this morning I got it into my head to

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-2519246043137267082011-10-16T20:21:00.000-07:002011-10-16T20:21:05.151-07:00

Big news. Clara went to nursery today. Clap! Nursery is a toy-strewn wonderland for wiggly toddlers in my church. They play with toys, eat snacks, sing songs and have a short—very short—lesson. They're allowed to enter at 18 months. Clara will be just that next week, so I snuck her in early. Well, not without permission, of course. Many experienced mothers suggested we give nursery a whirl just

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-23770707906810088592011-10-13T22:07:00.000-07:002011-10-13T22:07:27.288-07:00

Confession 1: I have an unexplained love for cheesy 80's songs, and have to have them in my music collection. Just in case, you know? In case there's suddenly a pressing need to have a Cheesy Songs From the 80's party somewhere. One can never be too prepared, really. My itunes is overflowing with gems like "All I Need Is A Miracle," "Send Me An Angel," and Wham winners. But of course. And we

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-83737694034318251792011-10-06T12:46:00.000-07:002011-10-06T13:37:46.220-07:00

We're full of the Halloween spirit these days. Halloween get-up: sponsored by Grandma Leg warmers: I bought off Etsy. (I also got some green & black striped ones—so cute!) Sweatshirt: Not really part of the ensemble, but it's chilly today! As I type, the mountains I see out my window are turning whiter and whiter... Halloween costume planning is fully under

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-65466957619274318042011-10-02T19:24:00.000-07:002011-10-02T20:36:03.226-07:00

Friday was a rough day on the baby front. Clara woke up on the wrong side of the crib. For reasons known only to Clara, she cranked and grumped around all day long. I finally concluded that something had to be wrong with the poor dear. Was she sick? Teething? She didn't seem to be showing any of her usual signs of ailment. And she was eating fine—that's really my biggest indication of problems.

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-81367140723381019642011-09-25T19:46:00.000-07:002011-09-25T19:55:59.925-07:00

We made our way to Hogle Zoo on the day of yester, and brought along some friends with us. Meet: Nate, Nicole, baby Will, and Rachel, Nate, and baby Clayton. Both those guys' names are Nate and both those baby's middle names are Nathan. That's a lot of Nates to keep track of, but by golly we did our best. (Should we talk about that first sentence? Is it even

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-32558939884171012992011-09-23T21:42:00.000-07:002011-09-23T21:42:40.787-07:00

That's all, really. See you soon!

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-57063682423454542162011-09-12T22:38:00.000-07:002011-09-12T22:38:02.375-07:00

I decided it was high time to update the 8x10 we've got of Clara in the front room. She is 6 months older now, and in babydom, 6 months of aging is a BIG deal. So I took to the camera this past Sunday afternoon. It was a two-person job. Our photo shoot consisted of a lot of toddler chasing. But we did get a few decent-ish ones. Mostly

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-21020600387892430802011-09-07T21:48:00.000-07:002011-09-07T21:48:37.828-07:00

This past weekend the Giles clan threw responsibility out the window and headed to Brianhead, because well, everyone else was doing it. Well, not everyone, but enough family members that we started to feel left out. And trust me. Feeling left out is not something we're good at. So we went, as I said, and fourwheeled and Rhinoed around. And told some scary stories around the fire—namely, the Tale

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-46132752726010733512011-08-25T18:36:00.000-07:002011-08-25T18:36:05.282-07:00

Two gold stars for you if you recognize this movie. And this is the life for Clara when I'm not around. Who needs a love sack when you've got this set up? Trust me—our pillows are comfy. Tom arranged this for her today while I went into work for a bit to have a meeting. Because it's that time of year again! Time for me to hunker down on the couch and work a milliontrillion

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-86082709010038672011-08-21T19:10:00.000-07:002011-08-21T19:21:09.421-07:00

This photo is complements of my Uncle Drew. In my few short months as a mother, I've now come to the experienced conclusion that if I could, I'd bottle our little miss up with some preservatives and keep her at her current age forever. Forever! She's that enjoyable. Today I secretly observed while she repeatedly stuck her face over the air vent and giggled,

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-43649050009585325182011-08-18T14:05:00.000-07:002011-08-18T14:08:17.594-07:00

So I figured I'd give blogging a whirl today. You know, for old times' sake. Would you believe? In the past month since I've blogged, I've sat down at least three or four times, started a post, but then got side tracked. Or bored. Or hungry. The usual. You should know, though. The real downfall to my blogging is because of our new phones, and a game I innocently downloaded a few weeks ago to

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-17641386510732359222011-07-21T13:18:00.000-07:002011-07-21T17:10:58.297-07:00

Boy do we have a treat for you today, ladies and gentlemen. We managed to get Clara to take a few minutes out of her busy schedule to talk to us—and give us some enlightenment on the world as she sees it. Which—this girl's just oozing with wisdom, as you'll come to find out. The only problem is that sometimes her thick baby accent makes it hard to understand her. That's where we, her parents,

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-42334199389615013542011-07-17T19:25:00.000-07:002011-07-17T19:38:21.449-07:00

You know how sometimes when you're painting your toenails bright pink and you suddenly think, I should blog about this! No? I guess what I'm trying to say is that sometimes I get this huge urge to blog but I've really got nothing to say. It's kind of like when people get up during testimony meeting (a monthly meeting in my church where people can stand before the audience and proclaim what they

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-78238427867760506482011-07-12T22:12:00.000-07:002011-07-12T22:53:46.778-07:00

We've been out and about lately. To exotic places. Don't worry! I have post cards. Really, I don't know why there aren't more post cards of Vegas picturing just food. Because whenever I go to Vegas I pretty much just eat. The entire time.  We spent our 4th of July there with my family, eating. And a few other things, but mostly eating. But anyway, on to the ambush.

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-61618645638834427832011-07-03T23:06:00.000-07:002011-07-03T23:07:22.161-07:00

I think it's safe to say that our little miss didn't really love the firework show. ******* More pictures to come! Until then, let's all stuff our faces with 4th of Ju-ly barbecued goodness in the most patriotic fashion we can muster. Happy Independence!

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-83238811126958902992011-06-26T21:51:00.000-07:002011-06-26T21:51:59.574-07:00

I have a total of four mosquito bites. Not bad—but, originally it was only two. So you can imagine my disappointment to receive two more. And to add insult to injury, the last two came from the same mosquito, doin' his dirty work right in front of me while I was desperately trying to defend myself and my blood. All during sacrament meeting, I might add. Well—we were in the foyer though, Clara

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-35632221689181116072011-06-21T22:00:00.000-07:002011-06-21T22:03:22.322-07:00

Here I am, the only blogger in the world that didn't blog on Falker Satherhood day to talk about all the great dads I know. (And I know a lot, but probably my own and my hubs would have sufficed.) It's not like I didn't sit down to attempt it. It's just, the stars were not aligned that night. And my English brain and English typing fingers were having a, you know, hard time. And I didn't even

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-38541211832053493252011-06-12T18:47:00.000-07:002011-06-12T18:51:40.714-07:00

The following assortment of words may or may not be loaded with pictures of a certain Clara. And it may or may not drone on with little details about this certain Clara. Because I mean really. What else is this blog good for? Tom Thomas and I predict we'll have a walker by July 14th, 12 p.m. on the dot. (I just made that up on the spot.) (Which rhymes with dot,

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-34172971730481940732011-05-31T21:19:00.000-07:002011-05-31T21:22:37.233-07:00

I can recall, when I was age 12—ie., the age of what my church terms a "beehive"—my friends and I thought we were downright hilarious. Hil-ar-ious. Every week at mutual, top-notch jokes just seemed to hover all around us waiting to be picked up by our brilliant little brains and, as it turns out, no one ever left without tears of laughter streaming down her face and sore ab muscles. The odd part

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-41197527940784330032011-05-29T18:50:00.000-07:002011-05-29T18:50:59.360-07:00

If you've ever tried mutating your chin and neck into one. Anyone? No? Oh come on—Tom and I cannot be the only ones. Tom's really blows mine out of the water, wouldn't you agree? Very Gilly-like. Perhaps it's not so odd that we do such things, but that we take dozens of pictures while we do it? Raise your hand if you do that. Don't be shy. We're all friends

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-66940638663349842962011-05-28T22:04:00.000-07:002011-05-28T22:07:22.312-07:00

Moments before an unsuspecting chocolate/peanut butter cupcake is wolfed by a ravenous Season. First of all, you'll need to wake up to find your Internet down. You're husband will have fiddled with it for a bit but he'll need to leave for school so that will leave just you to do the fiddling. So you'll head to the router box and start pushing buttons at random—as is

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-18376811747253403792011-05-24T11:19:00.000-07:002011-05-24T21:59:02.988-07:00

Clara and I received an exclusive invite from my mother-in-law to go to Denver last week. You see, Tom has a brother and sister-in-law and two nieces and one nephew there. So I packed up our clothes and stuffed in as many diapers as not to exceed a suitcase's zip-up capability and we were on our way. Said goodbye to Tom Thomas (he did not receive an invite, you see. He had classes to attend—but I

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-15889783724856395252011-05-08T18:27:00.000-07:002011-05-08T18:27:45.258-07:00

On the day that I became a mom, I wanted nothing more than my mom. A year later I feel like I can actually admit that when Clara was born, I was plumb terrified. She was so little and she made alien-like noises and I didn't quite know what to do with her. You know that mother-baby bonding business they always talk about in child development classes? Nope. There was none of that out-comes-baby and

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-6573770144996792732011-04-30T19:41:00.000-07:002011-04-30T19:48:21.563-07:00

Am I the only one that feels like this week took a whole month to get through? It's not like this week has been extra rough or extra busy or extra anything. Just extra long, is all. It's a funny little thing, that time thing. Read on for a fascinating and enlightening look at the week of the Giles family: • Tom finished his first semester at UVU. There was a big to-do about it on his blog, as he

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-15335040763048285522011-04-28T19:19:00.000-07:002011-04-28T19:19:30.113-07:00

Well, she may be just a novice, but she's got a professional as her teacher, and I'd say she's got real potential. I give you: Clara on the sax/kazoo. Oh. By the way. A lot of this is blurry, as is the case with most of the videos I attempt to take with our camera. Clearly—it's a camera that is meant for pictures, not video. That—and clearly I'm challenged. Anyway. You'll forgive me, won't you?

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-29672069552476734422011-04-24T21:19:00.000-07:002011-04-25T07:28:19.768-07:00

Notice anything different about Clara? Her pigtails just grew in. Plus, she turned one today. We've been having a super-dee-duper time around here lately. Balloons, candy and icing—strewn about the place. Last night was her birthday party which was kicked off at Goodwood because that was her one and only request. We had all sorts of friends and family come and throughout

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-33295237294150866062011-04-16T20:07:00.000-07:002011-04-16T20:34:19.610-07:00

I don't know where you were today, but boy howdy was it bea-u-tiful around these parts. We got our wish! Thanks, mother nature. Actually, do you know what? I have this theory, and I've had it for some time, that my blog is magical. Now, I'd love to tell you more about this theory, but I don't dare. That could ruin the spell. It's not in my nature to be mysterious, but I

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-48857687277027399992011-04-14T22:05:00.000-07:002011-04-14T22:33:48.534-07:00

This picture was snapped some time last week. We watched from our window while huge flakes of snow again covered the tennis court right outside our apartment. It could have been kind of pretty, except that in my book any snow fallage past February becomes unquestionably void of beauty. Then yesterday afternoon me and the little misses found ourselves outside, jacketless,

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-52873328147962652022011-04-08T19:45:00.000-07:002011-04-08T21:55:03.258-07:00

Yesterday we made a family outing to Toys R Us to pick out a birthday present for Clara. Toy stores are just as fun—if not more fun—for me now as they were when I was little. Does that tell you how mature I am? But shoot, have you ever been inside an FAO Schwartz?? And of course, Tom gets distracted by the first thing he sees the minute we enter. And Clara? Well, sure! I think she had fun too.

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-30004573131929776562011-04-03T21:53:00.000-07:002011-04-03T21:57:07.829-07:00

Taking notes during General Conference. Clara's got herself a set of post-its, hiding just below the pillows.  I take notes to ensure that I stay awake. Because sometimes those apostolic voices are just soooooo sooooooooooothing. Sometimes (especially during the afternoon sessions) I have to pull out the munchies along with taking notes. We do what we've got to do, right?

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-63035625887407006372011-04-01T22:02:00.000-07:002011-04-01T22:32:28.024-07:00

Want to hear about my day? Sure! I assume if you've found yourself on my blog you could only hope for so much, right? Today I tended a cute little not-quite 2-year-old with a broken femur. Femur! Her cast covers up one entire leg, her torso and halfway down her other leg, with a big beam in between to keep her legs apart. It's heartbreaking. And—downer time—it gets worse!

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-41959380638300633052011-03-29T13:15:00.000-07:002011-03-29T13:15:00.818-07:00

I followed this tutorial on Bakerella for cake bites, only mine were chocolate, not red velvet. There I was expecting mine to turn out all beautiful and flawless and round like the ones in her pictures. Not so much. However! Once I piled them all in the dump truck, my lumpy, misshapen, pathetic little things kinda looked like boulders, and that seemed to suit a dump truck

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-33110368583195476002011-03-25T10:15:00.000-07:002011-03-25T10:20:08.937-07:00

Whooo-eeeee was it hoppin' at the Dollar Tree on State Street yesterday. That is the place to be on a cold, windy 1 p.m. hour in March. Never in my life have I seen someone spend $300+ at a dollar store. (And I'm a very experienced dollar store shopper, let's give a quick fist pump for Rexburg's Honks...) Until yesterday, that is. I had the particular privilege of being two people behind her in

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-73385204531221192442011-03-22T19:50:00.000-07:002011-03-22T20:06:01.153-07:00

I knew going into the marriage that Tom Thomas had a thing for tearing apart stuffed animals from the D.I. and using their fur for—other purposes. But does that make it any easier? Oh no. (Shudder.) His first episode (documented, that is) took place many moons ago. A poor, unsuspecting D.I. animal (a teddy bear, was it?) met its heroic end as it was cut and maimed and

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-55574106274222570382011-03-11T17:42:00.000-08:002011-03-11T17:42:44.832-08:00

Footnotes: • Clara had just been drinking her bottle. So, yeah. • In case you couldn't tell, those are giggles directly following her, ahem, hiccup. She sure is giggly these days, leaving her more serious tendencies in the past, I s'pose. • Often around strangers and whenever we pull out the video camera, Clara likes to shut down—so it's a rare treat to see Clara act just like herself on video.

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-16566325514438008862011-03-09T22:21:00.000-08:002011-03-09T22:21:51.426-08:00

Well, shucks. Life's been pretty dull around here. I've said that before, haven't I? Well at least that's one thing I can promise about this here blog—we don't try to keep it lively. Today involved some waking up. Some eating. Some bathing. Some napping. Some more waking up. Some more eating. Some Hobby Lobbying (my second go-to after Target). Some walking/strollering in

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-83181617498532580772011-03-05T18:18:00.000-08:002011-03-05T18:18:57.213-08:00

...A baby having a total heyday in her bedroom. We had a fun day today. Does it show?

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-43004021536691463092011-03-01T18:03:00.000-08:002011-03-01T18:06:01.063-08:00

I've been in a different world since Thursday. A type of place where I neglect all of my normal responsibilities—cleaning, getting dressed, making the bed, eating, attending to hygiene, you know. I'm not sick. Feeling quite well, thank you. I've just been reading The Hunger Games series, that's all. And gosh, am I like the last person on the planet to read 'em or what? (Scratch that—second to

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-45419093159642657482011-02-22T19:50:00.000-08:002011-02-22T19:55:34.224-08:00

(She's like a little pink and brown marshmallow, adorned in snow clothes that will better fit her next year.) We were off galumphing through the snow at Brian Head this past weekend, as is our President's Day weekend tradition. FUN, I tell you. FUN. We did next to nothing except for sit around. Which, if you haven't heard, is

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-77420464913038855012011-02-16T18:23:00.000-08:002011-02-16T19:26:40.916-08:00

Clara isn't exactly crawling. And to call it an army crawl would be a very loose interpretation of it, for it's a sloppy one at that. She's got more of the inchworm thing goin' on and Tom Thomas and I couldn't be more "beamier" with pride and joy because we've been waiting and waiting and waiting (and waiting!) for this day to occur—and it did—precisely three days ago. (Whew,

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-68659606018224486652011-02-08T19:03:00.000-08:002011-02-08T19:03:23.521-08:00

Every evening by approximately 6 p.m., once the little miss is tucked tightly into bed (yes, she goes to bed at 6. It's by far one the most magnificent things we do around here), our humble little abode looks precisely like this: And then, every evening by approximately 7:30 p.m., our humble little abode tends to look like this: And, every night

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-44362141544180461922011-02-07T18:11:00.000-08:002011-02-07T18:15:54.476-08:00

In fact, I'm not even sure I could do two decent push ups in a row if my life depended on it. So here's hoping I'm never caught in one of those perilous push-up-or-die situations. Plus, it's a good thing you don't really hear of those situations all too often because whew—can you imagine? What happens is I always seem to get stuck on my second one on the way back up. See, good ol' Spence says

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-85394199761844873292011-02-03T14:13:00.000-08:002011-03-05T21:50:50.329-08:00

Yesterday Clara and I went outside for the first time in three days. Everyone and their dog has been going on and on about how ridiculously freezing it is out there and, since I'm no dummy (if I do say so), I decided to bow out of battling the cold weather and plugged in our hot chocolate maker instead. Even Tom came home from school one morning and admitted, "It's cold out there."

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-4275100935049295422011-01-30T22:04:00.000-08:002011-01-30T22:23:12.009-08:00

Today we attended church, as is our usual Sunday ritual. Did you know that there are so many sweet little old people in my ward? It's like Tom and I have access to a couple dozen grandmas and grandpas at all times, which is fantastic—because grandmas and grandpas are awesome, as we all know. I've never been in a ward like this before—we ARE the definition to that cutesy "newly wed or nearly dead"

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-55051859060686685392011-01-24T16:55:00.000-08:002011-01-24T16:55:53.172-08:00

Once upon a time a few weeks ago Tom Thomas got a cold. Once he'd had his share of it, he offered it to me, and then after I'd rubbed shoulders with it I kindly handed it back to him. He returned the favor by giving it back to me and then I really spread the love and gave a portion back to Tom, and since I didn't want Clara to feel left out—I gave a big, hearty portion

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-21504051944940488442011-01-20T14:54:00.000-08:002011-01-20T14:54:46.411-08:00

Originally I thought I'd be cute and tender and post these on THE day that Clara turns NINE months old, which is Monday. But then these turned out so dang fantastic that I couldn't contain my excitement, I threw tenderness to the wind and here we are. I've told you before—and I'm not sure anyone believed me—I'm a wild one, I am. (...Because I post nine-month pictures of Clara four days before she

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-36261348218425851752011-01-18T15:34:00.000-08:002011-01-18T14:44:40.023-08:00

I hereby give you a collection of the dullest events I could think up that took place over the past 7-8 days: • I got sick. Again. I had just parted ways with December's cold and then January had to go and stick another one down my throat. I don't know about you guys, but I've about had it up to here with January's shenanigans. Anyway, this one's been much worse than December's—which was just

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-83931005354953476412011-01-09T21:41:00.000-08:002011-01-09T21:41:14.056-08:00

Last month during our get-together in Montpelier we arranged to have a family picture taken, since we all happened to be there. However, we had a few hiccups come up that weren't exactly conducive to a family photo op. 1. Photographer backed out 3 days beforehand. (I know, right?) 2. Snow storm. 3. Napless baby. (That'd be Clara.) So a few Plan B's had to quickly be instituted. And then a few

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-75280325292876207162011-01-08T20:07:00.000-08:002011-01-08T20:07:53.568-08:00

If you are ever in a social gathering and an awkward silence falls over the group, may I suggest a topic of discussion? Say: "Have you heard that there are people in Montpelier, Idaho that are buying school buses, filling them with food storage and then burying them in their backyards?" Believe me—the possibilities are endless with that prompt. I know, because I've participated in that very

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-53826031947804254392011-01-05T13:21:00.000-08:002011-01-07T10:02:28.236-08:00

This week marks the start of 20 Second Fitness for Tom and I. If it weren't for the fact that my sister and brother-in-law did it last year (they were actually part of a test group for it—and they were in the infomercial for it...remember?? Oh, and they gave it to us for Christmas) and ended up looking like super models with buns of steel by the time they were done, I would be

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-18888441212852134112010-12-31T12:50:00.000-08:002011-01-04T22:11:10.605-08:00

New Year's Eve isn't quite what it used to be. Remember how big of a deal those high school New Year's Eve dances were? Whew. Don't miss those. Two years ago Tom and I sat up playing Mario Kart (I think I mostly watched 'cause I stiiiiink at video games), last year I fell asleep at an insanely early hour, and by the looks of it, it'll be Super Mario Galaxy 2 this

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-16004366473360175742010-12-30T15:04:00.000-08:002010-12-30T16:51:28.104-08:00

Or, more appropriately, 8 months in hair. Without further ado: Here's hoping 2011 brings along even poofier hair and tanglier knots.

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-83207133141288244752010-12-22T20:52:00.000-08:002010-12-24T09:27:09.707-08:00

Gosh, it's been like—what? Twelve years since I've blogged? Well the only thing that's really happened since my last post is that I've formed a mild addiction to Benadryl. No biggie. That, and Tom had a birthday. That, and we went to chilly Montpelier to have an early stocking-stuffer extravaganza with Tom's fam. Observe. Other than that, Clara's been a bit of a

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-33953028552716864762010-12-07T12:55:00.000-08:002010-12-07T13:04:29.788-08:00

Or perhaps more appropriately, all Season wants for Christmas is for Clara to have her own set of coasters so her current ones can have some slobber relief. See those toys tossed haphazardly behind her? That's because coasters are the only way to true happiness. MUST-HAVES for our 2010 Christmas. Okay, but that's not completely accurate either. Because let's

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-69914515943895831492010-12-02T18:55:00.000-08:002010-12-03T08:33:29.045-08:00

The past 10 days were as follows: • We set off for Denver to enjoy our turkey and mashed potatoes with Team Tag and Tracy. We endured road conditions like this: These pictures were taken only at times when I dared to take my face out of its hiding place in my pillow. So in other words, these pictures show the better conditions. • Clara clowned around with her BFF, Lucy. I

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-40159631214630022312010-11-22T14:27:00.000-08:002010-11-22T14:42:23.866-08:00

Remember awhile back when I wrote a cheeky post about our crazy neighbor? Well I never bothered to update that only a WEEK later, our neighbor—whom my mother lovingly coined "MDR," disappeared. Gone. Vanished. Soon people began deep-cleaning her apartment—replacing the carpets, repainting the walls; essentially starting from scratch. It was eating me alive. Where did she go? What happened? Of

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-29959183400574602942010-11-13T18:28:00.000-08:002010-11-13T18:56:23.684-08:00

When we were in California in August with my family, we all took the time to tidy ourselves up, smooth out our hair and take a big family picture. My sister-in-law Rachel happens to be this fantastic photographer and she kindly took our pictures and then made us all look respectable with hours upon hours spent in Photoshop. She takes awesome pictures like these:

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-3328622040056510082010-11-06T17:45:00.000-07:002010-11-07T06:36:10.761-08:00

She did a face-plant in the leaves. Then she wanted nothing to do with them. However the real reason I'm blogging is to announce Clara's big step up in babydom. She's graduated to her stroller seat. Can you see how she's just beaming with pride? She's been waiting for this day all her life. And the other reason I'm blogging is

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-31971298282744435622010-11-01T08:05:00.000-07:002010-11-01T08:08:45.165-07:00

A few years ago I dated a guy that I didn't like. Seems stupid, right? And you'd be right. I knew immediately that we weren't "meant to be." He had several crucial points against him right from the get go and I'm still confused as to how we made it past "the get go." Anyway, I share these with the intent to prove how polar opposite we were for each other—not to rag on him. (Cross my heart and

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-30751489085281339842010-10-30T22:09:00.000-07:002010-10-30T22:10:31.946-07:00

We went home.  For Halloween, that is. Last year was our first Halloween together as a married duo and we really got into the spirit of things. I mean, Tom Thomas even sewed for it. And I went through like six wigs until I found the right one. (I'm exaggerating.) This year? Yikes. We didn't carve pumpkins. (Bawling). Nor did we dress up. (Bawling some more). Nor did we eat candy. (That's a

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-12527358240126216142010-10-23T19:15:00.000-07:002010-10-23T19:16:30.965-07:00

Perhaps you recall this from the history books? When the prestigious Roger Watersdown of Yorkshire was drowned in his olympic size swimming pool by one of his own. In fact, I think they used the scandal for an episode of Murder She Wrote.  (I made all of that up.)

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-8840014645042158122010-10-13T19:37:00.000-07:002010-10-13T21:30:58.306-07:00

Best part of Clara's day: When Papa Tom Thomas finally comes to get her in the morning after she's been chillin' in her crib for who knows how long. (She wakes up and quietly hangs out and we're never quite sure just how long she's been awake.) Best part of Tom's day: Going in to collect Clara in the morning, who's been patiently awaiting his arrival. She usually squeals

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-68313688100446431242010-10-10T22:03:00.000-07:002010-10-10T22:27:18.514-07:00

This morning I told myself that I wasn't even going to so much as glance at my laptop today. Not for any noble reasons—just because with all the time I spend with this thing I end up with monumental headaches and blurred vision at the end of the night, every night. And I've had it up to here. I blame our apartment's dismal lighting. You see, when they built this place, they allotted two lighting

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-63954467872051317872010-10-03T18:44:00.000-07:002010-10-05T12:46:11.190-07:00

Even though it's over now—happy General Conference weekend. I say that like it's a holiday—and kind of—it is. I enjoyed it immensely, just as I usually do. Tom had to work all weekend, sadly. Clara's gift to me was to nap through all four sessions, aside from the last half hour of this morning's session wherein she attentively listened to President Monson. As you can see

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-21906272450654802942010-09-27T18:28:00.000-07:002010-10-03T19:17:55.741-07:00

Gargantuan is such an odd word, is it not? Anyway. I've been out of touch with my blog this month and I feel the tension every time I try to nonchalantly drop by to read other people's updates. Every time it loads onto the screen it just glares at me because it's sick of being flung to the side like yesterday's newspaper. It's a needy little thing. And I'm dramatic. But I have my reasons. The

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-35854602168174190662010-09-15T20:20:00.000-07:002010-09-15T21:47:32.139-07:00

I like zoos. I think they're super fun. Turns out, Tom Thomas likes zoos too. One of our earliest dates was to the Tautphaus Park Zoo in Idaho Falls, and we had a fantastically grand time. And I'll have you know that I used that date as a comparison to all other dates with other guys, on a scale of "close to the fun-ness of Tautphaus Park" to "not close to the fun-ness of

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-11715690747002616702010-09-12T21:58:00.000-07:002010-09-12T22:04:08.592-07:00

Ever been to Balboa Park? Not to be confused with Balboa Island, which is where most of us thought we were going until we arrived at, well, Balboa Park. My mom is a tricky one. Always keeps us on our toes. This place is neat. This trip was a whole month ago. You know what that means—details are fuzzy now. I can recall, however, that it was a hot day. I yearned for that

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-20966627536169721072010-09-09T13:04:00.000-07:002010-09-09T13:42:01.164-07:00

This past weekend we went camping, which is precisely what we did a year ago over Labor Day. Do I smell a tradition? Last year we camped like a couple of dufuses—forgetting just about everything. This year I was determined to make amends, by bringing our entire apartment with us. Clara roughed it fantastically well. Which is good news for Tom. If she hadn't done so well I

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-77106869826574518142010-08-30T18:16:00.000-07:002010-08-30T18:19:59.903-07:00

If I ever write a children's book it'll be about a bumbling band of penguins who decide to start a bowling team.  Because look at that guy. Does he look like he could pull a couple of turkeys in the lane or what? Actually, they'll end up failing tremendously and end up offering themselves up as pins to the other teams who've been blowing them out of the water. And they'll

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-78479639909770941992010-08-24T18:53:00.000-07:002010-08-25T19:19:07.117-07:00

Today we celebrate a four month Clara. The pediatrician said she's practically old enough for cheeseburgers and filet mignon. (Well, he didn't actually say that, but he had that tone.) She's just delightful these days. She pretty much cutes wherever she goes. She rolls over faster than you can say "roll over." She investigates her hands and feet like the studious biped

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-62623012166348606612010-08-20T09:05:00.000-07:002010-08-20T09:51:11.373-07:00

Boy did we have a mighty fine time in California. The whole lot was there—all 26 of us. One member of the fam for each letter of the alphabet! (I'm "L," by the way.) We returned home just last night. Clara was so ready to be done with her car seat—I fear she may have written it off for good. I discovered that my gmail had been hacked and someone had sent out links—no doubt

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-75176921120657485042010-08-08T18:24:00.000-07:002010-08-08T18:50:48.213-07:00

Hello blogdom! Allow me to introduce you to the feisty side of Season. Let's see... A lady in my ward—a very old lady—told me that I need to lead the music faster in Sacrament meeting. Did you know I lead the music in my ward? Well, I do. I know I know I know she didn't mean to hurt my feelings, but for crying out loud I'm doin' my best! Our organist isn't exactly a speed demon. If you've ever

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-14196662559009547032010-08-05T20:40:00.000-07:002010-08-05T21:04:19.689-07:00

I give unto you two videos, pretty much the same and overall pretty dull. Also, both come with bad lighting and even worse focus. (Clearly, I need to spend an afternoon on the couch with the camera's user manual) Ye be warned. Oh—but the sound?  Adorable. Basically, these are a shout-out to all her groupies. Doting fans who've been on my case about not posting any videos.  Mainly grandmothers.

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-85564084677053417382010-08-01T18:50:00.000-07:002010-11-23T10:27:52.135-08:00

Last night I stayed up late reading Mary Poppins. (Reading! What a luxury! But for a tinch of foreshadowing I'll tell you that I semi regretted it later...) I'm on the chapter about the twin babies, John and Barbara (who didn't make the cut for the movie, I guess), who can communicate with each other, animals, nature, and Mary of course—but grown ups can't speak their

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-26267516090251326272010-07-28T12:38:00.000-07:002010-07-28T12:43:52.267-07:00

When I was pregnant I used to feel legitimately concerned that our baby would end up favoring Tom. I knew I was going to have to be the one to enforce bedtimes and table manners, because experience has shown me that Tom won't do it. Therefore I'd be the mean one. And Tom would be the fun one. I expressed my concern to Tom on many occasions: "Our kids are going to like you better!" He would

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-70220752458702900132010-07-26T09:11:00.000-07:002010-07-27T21:48:21.974-07:00

Today is my birthday. And not just any birthday. My golden birthday.  Last night I didn't fall asleep until 2:30 in the morning. This was most certainly not by choice. I'd love to attribute it to something like "night-before-Christmas jitters," but in actuality it was nothing but plain, old-fashioned insomnia. And I was totally ticked off about it. 2:00 a.m. rolled

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-81781526440909266372010-07-21T19:18:00.000-07:002010-07-27T22:13:02.132-07:00

This is a saxophone. Slash kazoo. Compliments of a Wendy's kids meal. It was left here on accident a few weeks ago when my family was here. One of my poor nieces or nephews is probably writhing with anguish over a misplaced saxophone/kazoo. However, the said anguishing child can take great comfort in knowing that their long lost saxophone/kazoo is getting put to much better

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-75807629656304198842010-07-18T19:53:00.000-07:002010-07-27T22:13:49.720-07:00

Today I read a headline that said June was the warmest on record globally. I hardly have any recollection of June, but I might argue that July seems to be headed for the same record. Thank heavens I'm not in Vegas. Because I'm a sweaty mess as it is.  Does that gross you out? It should. It grosses me out.  Today I went to church sporting a pony tail. I never do that.

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-87684327983171609772010-07-12T19:36:00.000-07:002010-07-27T22:14:20.930-07:00

Just before feeding Clara this afternoon, I gathered together a little selection of snacks for myself. She began eating. I began eating. Clara stopped eating. She gave me a highly annoyed look that could only be interpreted as "I'll wait." And wait she did. So help me—I wanted that string cheese. Who would have guessed that a two-month-old could be so particular about her eating environment? (

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-20059514561133701312010-07-10T11:05:00.000-07:002010-07-29T21:00:11.118-07:00

It is with great sadness that I announce the passing of our yellow super-guppy. It lived a fulfilling, long life. A very long life. Even after it grew its enormous, diseased belly, it still managed to stick it out for over a month. What a trooper. The little guy is survived by its two friends, the black super-guppy and the little algae sucker, whom officials suspect might go quickly hereafter,

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-37698703566464605742010-07-07T19:39:00.000-07:002010-07-27T22:22:32.058-07:00

Would you believe that I've been busy? Well anyway. As promised, I'm here to make my 4th of July festivities sound as exciting as humanly possible. And just to prove that I mean business, I'm even supplying you with this stellar video from Youtube. So just in case I fail in my effort to make this exciting, the high-quality flag throughout the whole thing should make up the difference, and then

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-35674960311734273132010-06-26T18:11:00.000-07:002010-07-27T22:16:27.008-07:00

Behold, a smiling little miss. With quite a welcoming one, at that. I figured as long as I got a baby announcement out before she went to kindergarten, we were doin' pretty good. It wasn't exactly my intention for her to be drowning in pink (not Tom's fave color), but, welp—such is life. You know how it is. So here IT is.  If you didn't find one of

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-56420795800388390772010-06-25T15:19:00.000-07:002010-07-27T22:21:34.735-07:00

8-week Clara, after yet another traumatizing session of tummy time. Oh, and Tom's bed-head. (Which isn't a whole lot different from other times of the day.) Yesterday Clara turned two months old. And what better way to celebrate than with vaccinations?? I was pretty nervous about how she'd do. But let's all be honest with each other. I was mostly nervous about how I'd do

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-75025718196931028622010-06-19T20:25:00.000-07:002010-07-29T21:01:41.059-07:00

Really. It's no lie. The guy is fun-ny. Before long she'll be laughing her head off. First she's just gotta figure out what laughing her head off even means. Today we went on our first family picnic. A picnic! As a family! If that's not the cutest thing you've ever heard...well then I don't know what is. I'll prove it to you.  See. I told you

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-70496028427698955072010-06-14T21:02:00.000-07:002010-06-14T21:04:35.654-07:00

Last night I dreamt that it was the middle of the night and Tom and I were in this HUGE argument because he wanted me to see if I could fit in Clara's swing, and I didn't want to (or something really dramatic like that). Finally, after I'd had it "up to here," I stormed away to the living room, hoping to find peace there. Oddly enough, however, once I reached the living room I was confronted by

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-42752779261724552392010-06-09T20:31:00.000-07:002010-06-09T20:50:43.608-07:00

As I hinted a few weeks ago, nursing has been a train wreck. Now I'd say it's upgraded to a partially hazardous golf cart crash. So three cheers for improvement, right? I think part of the problem is that Clara's priorities do not revolve around eating—a completely foreign concept for me. (I come from a loooong line of good eaters. We Purcells know precisely what's important in this life, and

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-88917863189013251672010-06-06T19:31:00.000-07:002010-07-29T21:02:28.330-07:00

I'm not sure if this is normal for a married couple, but Tom and I are highly competitive with each other. Actually—it's all Tom. If you're acquainted with the Tom Thomas, then you know precisely what I mean. Tom can bring the competitive side out of anyone—out of a peace-keeping dove (like me), if you will. So quite obviously, I have no choice but to participate. It's always

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711482420390699462.post-83160012980696515282010-06-03T21:14:00.000-07:002010-07-29T21:03:04.265-07:00

Guess who this post is dedicated to. First things first. Does this hair remind you of anyone? Here's a hint: It starts with a "T" and ends with a "homas." Tonight we took shifts eating dinner while Clara exercised her lungs. They're pretty healthy already, but I guess it never hurts to make sure they stay in mint condition. Then directly following her

Seasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14126880154928976136noreply@blogger.com13