3 Years!

Today is our anniversary, our 3rd to be exact. I really love Randon, like, a lot. I'm so glad we've been together for the last three years. My husband is pretty rad. I realize that more everyday. I had many words planned, but now all I can think of is that I love him. I love you babe. I'm thankful for all you do for our family. I love that you are a great father. I love when we're together. Except when you have horrendous gas. Thanks for letting me be your wife.

I Lub Him

I may be biased, but I think I have the cutest boy in the whole world. His smile sure brightens my day.

We've Got a Bleeder!

It had to happen sooner or later I guess. Easton is now fascinated with everything he can get his hands on in the cupboards. Mostly mixing bowls. He loves a good mixing bowl. Throw in a measuring spoon, or a wooden spoon and he is in heaven. And don't think we can leave to go anywhere without taking a bowl with us. Can we put it down to eat? No, we just improvise.

Don't even think he's going to bed without one.

Apparently he can let go of one to grab a cheese grater though! We were in the kitchen, this time I was actually preparing a meal (yay!) while Easton went about his scattering of kitchen paraphernalia. (Didn't know paraphernalia had an r in it. Learn something new everyday.) Anyway, he started whining like he wanted me to pick him up so I look down and almost faint. His hand is covered in blood. He had cut his cute little thumb on the dumb old cheese grater. Why it was where he could reach it, I don't know. I learned my lesson, and its moved. Anyway, it didn't seem to bother him. It was a tiny little cut but it bled like a maniac. Let me tell you, its not easy to persuade a toddler to let you put pressure on his thumb for a sustained period of time. Randon looks like a really mean dad who laughs when his son is crying, but don't worry, Easton was crying because we were trying to hold his hand to put a band aid on it. I think he was trying to say, "Don't touch me." We tried the band aid but that foreign object was ripped off in a jiffy.

Around this point, my dear son caught on that I was concerned. And since then, he's been milkin it for all its worth. He'll whine and hold out his thumb for a kiss. Its pretty funny. Oh, and remember our friend, the mixing bowl? We don't put it down when we are bleeding profusely either, no way. Kinda gross, but I thought it was funny.


I love my crazy boy! And don't worry, all is well in the thumb department today.

The Cure

Okay, I admit, the last post was a little dramatic. I'm sure that episode won't even register in my memory in a little while. But hey, my mom was reading a book yesterday that said "bright" people tend to freak out quickly and more dramatically. Don't know what book that was, but I'm sure going to go along with it. Anyway, there's no bad day a little paper-crafting can't cure! My mom's house is the jackpot for crafting stuff. And that along with my mom's home made bread, I'm good to go. If you know my mom, or even if you don't, track her down and have her make you some bread. 100% whole wheat, she even puts flax seed and other healthy stuff in it, and it tastes soooo good. Made my day. Mom makes everything better.

Let Me Tell You a Story...

One not very stormy night, not very long ago, actually, just Sunday night, Randon was working at Volunteers of America. He works the weekend nights and doesn't get home till about 12:30 am. So you can imagine, by that time, I am warm, snug in my bed. This particular Sunday night, well, really Monday morning, at about the time I expected to hear the garage door open signifying my sweetheart's return, I instead heard Earth Wind & Fire's classic tune, "Shining Star". At first I started to do a little dance, but then I remembered it was my ringtone, so I answered my phone. "I ran out of gas," is what I heard. "Huh? What?" I'm a little confused and tired at this point. But I learned I had to rescue my loved one from the side of the freeway. Don't ask me how he ran out of gas in a new truck with all of the technology that tells you down to the mile how much gas you have left. Luckily we have a new room mate in our home, my sister in law Chantel is living with us, so at least I didn't have to wake Easton up to come with me. After finding a gas can, driving in circles to find a gas station and spilling gas everywhere, I was off to the rescue. And rescue him I did. We started the trek homeward, I followed Randon.  We were about, oh, halfway home, when I see flashing red and blue lights in my rear view mirror. I knew precisely why. You see, my registration expired in December. As a matter of fact, all three of our cars' registrations expired in December. What the heck? How did we manage to buy three cars all in December? Anyway, I had a huge crack in my windshield thanks to some trucker. So. Due to a lack of funds, we had not yet replaced said windshield. Nor proceeded to get the car inspected. All leaving me in the previously described situation. Pulled over in the middle of the night. The officer came up to my window and stated the obvious reason he pulled me over. I began to explain my situation, but as soon as the words "My husband lost his job..." came out of my mouth, I started bawling. Now, I did NOT want to be a stereotypical female that uses waterworks as a means of avoiding disciplinary action. I tried to convey that to the officer who left to check my license. I managed to calm down and when he came back he said he understood being out of work, and I didn't get a ticket. But it scared me into getting a windshield asap.  The very next morning I scheduled a windshield replacement, which made me cry inside a little, as we don't really have the funds for a $200 piece of glass. But heck, I wasn't getting pulled over again. Fast forward to this morning, as we are taking the Jeep to be inspected. Suddenly I have a little inspiration. "Don't new cars only have to be inspected every two years?" Randon was in the Jiffy Lube at this point and when I asked him, we discovered that, no, we did not need an inspection this year. Wait a minute, no...that doesn't mean then...yeah. WE DIDN'T HAVE TO BUY A WINDSHIELD. Why, people, why?  My inspiration comes a little too late. Grrrr. I'm so frustrated. The moral of the story? Don't run out of gas in the middle of the night! Maybe not. Maybe we should all rally to get rid of the whole registration idea. I think its dumb. Anyway, things have to start looking brighter, right? RIGHT! :)