our crush on the Pecauts

Ever have friends that you just "click" with?

Friends that you feel like you've known your whole life even though you just met? Friends that make a huge pot of soup just so they can bring it over and share dinner with you? Friends that you can be yourself around and not feel as though you're being judged? Friends that will babysit on a moment's notice because they understand how desperate you are for a date night? Friends that you hang out with almost every day and never get sick of? Friends that you want your kids to call "aunt" and "uncle" even though you're not really related? Friends that appreciate how funny it is to mutter "that's what she said" after just about every sentence?

Well, we've found ours. And we love our Bobby and Candace and Mr. Caeden.

They even invited our sorry little Easter-orphan selves to Candace's parents for barbeque chicken. Since we don't have much family in the area, and the family we do have in Redding was out of town over Easter, we were expecting to just sit at home and spend the day pigging out on junk food and watching mindless television. Thank goodness we were rescued! We had a great time laughing together and goofing off as usual--even our boys got in on the fun with a baby swing on the porch and some spaghetti for lunch.

But the best part is that we felt so at home. And when you've found people that make you feel that way in their company no matter where you are or what you're doing, I'd say you're blessed.

a khaki kind of day

So it doesn't take a genius to notice that I'm pretty tall. I tower over my husband when I'm brave enough to pull my heels out from the recesses of my closet.

Normally my height doesn't really bother me. I mean, I'm the shortest one in my family, with a little sister who's about 6'3" and a big brother who's 6'9". Yeah, BIG brother. When I'm around them, I even think of myself as kind of puny.

But today, I began to curse my long legs as I set out to find myself a pair of khaki pants. You'd think they'd be easy to find, since most stores are carrying longer sizes these days. SO WRONG.

Let's see, American Eagle (yes, I'm complaining about my husband's store) doesn't carry long khakis unless you special order them online and pay out your butt for the added inconvenience. The pants at Old Navy that were actually long enough were too wide in the leg. I could have fit two of me in each of those pant legs. Needless to say they looked pretty silly on my relatively skinny self.

So, Kohl's. I looked in the junior's section because the women's pants are all dress pants, and I wanted a wear-around-the-house type pant. So after trying on about five pairs before figuring out what size I was, I started getting antsy. Some fit okay, but were total butt-crackers when I leaned over (come on, you know you do the butt-crack test in dressing rooms, too). Others were skin-tight and showed off every little extra part of me that I usually try to hide. And, you guessed it, the rest were too short. But then I found a pair that claimed to be a "tall" size. Imagine my surprise upon discovering that they were too long! Gadzooks! But my picky khaki self couldn't handle how much they made me look fourteen again, like I was trying to be cool with my super-long, super-flared pants. But the regular length of those same khakis was just a little bit shorter than I would have liked. I wish they had a "regular tall" size for those in-betweeners like myself.

So what did I do? I bought both the regular and tall khaki pants. To take home and try on for my husband to see which ones he thinks I should keep since little Marty wasn't much help in my decision-making process. He just kind of looked at me and whined.

I guess the perfect pair of khakis, or perfect anything for that matter, just doesn't exist. Some days I feel like whining about it too.

filling Daddy's shoes

Marty found his Daddy's slippers today. And being the proud and braggy mother that I am, I had to share my joy with you.

dinner disappointments

Why is it that I can't freakin' get dinner on the table at a decent time? Insert picture of my empty dining room table here:

This past week we had friends over for dinner on Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday. And each of those days, I took the time to think through what we'd be serving so I'd know if a last-minute trip to Safeway was required. I even went so far as to put all the dinner components on the kitchen counter for easy access.

And yet, each of those three nights, I was still super embarrassed at how late dinner was put on the table! What is my problem? Our poor guests were probably sitting there starving as I slaved away in the kitchen, wondering why on earth I didn't start making dinner hours earlier.

Maybe it's because I haven't been feeling well lately. Or maybe it's because I don't want to shove food at people the second they walk through our front door. Maybe it's because I get distracted easily, and would rather spend my time socializing than cooking. Or maybe it's just because I'm lazy and suck at time management when it comes to the culinary arts (although I'm not very good at the culinary arts anyway).

I guess my warning to those of you who frequent the Moseley household is to eat a little snack before you come over. It may be a couple hours before the asparagus is served...

Hmmm. Maybe THAT's why our guests tonight had already had a protein shake and piece of pizza prior to their arrival. My reputation precedes me.

"One Day More"

Today was a good day.

Now, my Crohn's Disease has been flaring up like crazy and making ME crazy. I just haven't felt like myself for the past couple months. I miss the Becky that dances around the house belting out showtunes just because it's fun. And the Becky that can walk three miles to go visit Marty at work just to brighten his day.

I'm not quite there yet, but I'm on my way. Like I said, today was a good day. And even though I only made a little bit of progress, I'll take all the progress I can get. Because it means I'm one day closer to myself...

See, I was able to get out of bed this morning within just a couple minutes of waking up, though most mornings find me laying there trying to muster up the strength to stand. I consider it a blessing that I was able to take my son to the park and play with him on the swings. I actually had the energy to clean my room, which has sat untouched for weeks. I got a couple loads of laundry done. I managed to get through the day with just one fifteen minute nap, instead of sleeping for hours on end like I usually have to. I was strong enough to take out the trash all by myself. I gave my son a bath and a haircut. I was able to eat a cheeseburger for dinner without having any digestive problems.

And the kicker? When I talked to my mom on the phone today, she told me I'm really starting to sound like myself again. Now, maybe she just said that because she's my mom and she has to say stuff like that, but it made me smile.

I better start brushing up on those "Les Mis" lyrics...

best buds...

Remember when nothing in life was better than a good swing at the park? And a little friend to share the precious moment with you?

my Goob

P.S. Is this not the cutest little person EVER?

vacuum hair

I credit my sister-in-law with being the cleanest person EVER.

And truthfully, she's inspired me to vacuum on a more regular basis. I'm tired of walking around the house and groaning over the little tufts of cat hair and half-eaten Cheerios and threads that have separated themselves from my red bathroom rug and found their way into the living room. Seriously, when you have to wear flip-flops around the house to avoid getting your feet dirty, it's time to bust out the old vacuum. Dust it off and vacuum up the dust cloud created as a result!

Now, I'm certainly not going to do it daily like my sister-in-law does. I'm not THAT inspired. Maybe we'll take baby steps and start making it a weekly thing. Get a little crazy.

Anyway, I had one of these "moments of inspiration" just last Saturday. I started with the hallway, then moved into the baby's room. But for some reason, the usual powerful sucking-ness of my vacuum was...well...sucking. I had to go over the trouble spots way too many times for comfort. So I turned the vacuum off and flipped it over to see if I could figure out what the problem was. As if I'm some kind of vacuum maintenance expert.

But it was pretty obvious what was causing those soggy Cheerios to be barfed back onto the carpet. You know how hair gets wrapped around the vacuum brush? Well, there was so much hair I couldn't even SEE the brush. Goo.

So my quick little vacuuming sesh turned into a vacuuming afternoon as I spent almost an hour removing every single strand of hair that I could get my hands on.

Guess the moral of the story is that if I kept up with my housework, and actually maintained the overall cleanliness of our little abode instead of saving it all until I have a full head of hair hanging out inside my vacuum, cleaning wouldn't take as long when I got around to it.

So, in front of God and the three people that will read this, I hereby declare my vacuum my new friend. And implore it to come out and play more often. I promise I'll stop using the fact that my son is afraid of it as an excuse to leave it hidden.

But, friend, if ever you come over and find you miss seeing those little pieces of my bathroom rug all over the floor, I'm sure I'd be willing to skip for a week or two to accommodate you...

a willing convert...

Okay, so the other night Marty and I were having dinner with friends and the subject of blogging came up.

Secretly in my head I thought, "Oh yeah, I've been meaning to start doing that", just as my husband said, "Who really cares to read every little detail of your life that you laboriously type out and post online? Why bother? I'm even bored talking about it." Goo.

So, even though the love of my life is laughing at me for doing this, I'm going to blog away. Because it's fun to record my thoughts and to look forward to seeing what other people have to say about them.

And even if no one cares, I'll be happy knowing the one person in life that's supposed to support me through everything, and be the best friend I've ever had, doesn't care either.

Ha ha.