We're famous!

Or rather, my husband and his best friend Bobby are...

Today they've graced the FRONT PAGE of the Record Searchlight, our local newspaper, talking about the climbing gym they hope to open. There's even an adorable picture of Marty's smiling face as he rock climbs and Bobby belays him.

See, about a month or so ago, Bobby got a call from the Young Entrepreneur Program, which he had been involved with through the Small Business Development Center at Shasta College. They seek to help young people trying to open their own businesses. Well, they called Bobby to see if he'd let the Searchlight do a story about Jericho, highlighting the Entrepreneur Program. Well, of course he said yes.

So, a rock-climbing photo shoot and a couple interviews later, the boys are on the freakin' front page. We thought they'd end up in the back of the paper somewhere--in the business section. But instead they're the highlight today, the in-your-face-read-about-our-gym-while-you-drink-your-morning-cup-of-coffee highlight.

If you live in Redding, go grab a paper to support the guys. If you don't, check out redding.com, as it's the main story today! Marty's little smile, or HUGE GRIN rather, awaits the moment you type that address in.

And of course, it's only fitting that he's wearing his Wisconsin shirt. You know, the red one that says to "smell our dairy air"? The shirt that he wears just about every single day? I could be embarrassed that that shirt will forever be on display in this year's scrapbook, or I could just laugh it off and say, "That's my husband!"

Cow poop shirt or not, I really couldn't be prouder!

third year's a charm...

Happy 3rd anniversary to us!

In typical Pecaut and Bram and Read fashion, I thought I'd take you on a little photo journey of the relationship that got Marty and I to where we are now, three moves, two new cars, and a baby later.

So let's take it back. Way back. Marty and I actually grew up together at church, so we've known each other for twenty-some years. Our families may have been in different social circles, but I always thought Marty was pretty smokin' fine. Even though he was my older brother's friend and I was six and a half years younger. A girl can dream, can't she? Regardless of how awkward it would be to end up with someone who your parents almost hired to babysit you for an evening?

Anyway, fast forward several lifetimes to my senior year of high school. Marty had just moved back to San Jose after attending the fire academy here in Redding. Our church's new worship pastor at the time was holding auditions for a vocal ensemble that would sing up front every week. My best friend Amanda encouraged me to try out, and boy was I glad I did. When Marty walked in, I nearly fainted. In the best way possible.

So began our friendship that quickly became more serious. Marty still claims that when he walked into the sanctuary that morning, he saw me and just knew that he was going to marry me. He didn't remember my name, and it took him a while to realize it was little ol' me, but he just knew I was his wifey-to-be. Took me a bit longer to come to that realization, but I made it.

We dated for two years, then Marty surprised me the morning after my twentieth birthday with a sunrise proposal in his parents' living room, complete with a pathway down the stairs covered in rose petals, candy canes (I'm a December baby), pictures of us, and little tea candles. I guess he had this elaborate speech planned but was too excited to deliver it. He just asked if I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him and I replied with a hearty, "Okay!" We spent the rest of the day in San Fran, where I was terrified someone was going to try to steal my gorgeous solitaire princess-cut single-carat engagement ring. I still don't have anything as valuable.

Anyway, we married nine months later on September 3rd, 2005 at the church we grew up in together. Pretty sentimental. We were joined by hundreds, and felt so so loved. We honeymooned in Texas after our Carribean cruise was canceled thanks to Hurricane Katrina, but despite the sudden change in plans, we were just thrilled to finally be married.

We moved to Fresno right away to chase a job opportunity for Marty, and I enjoyed picking up where I left off in my schooling, studying psychology at Fresno State, and working full time as a shift supervisor at Starbucks. We were busy little bees.

But thanks to Marty's job, we were still able to get out and about. We've been to Disneyland six times together as a couple. It's kind of our own little "Happiest Place on Earth".

We also enjoyed putting together a "Party Weekend" for our San Jose friends while we were down in Fresno. We had everyone stay with us for a weekend, watching movies, renting jet skiis and riding around on a local lake. A three hundred dollar grocery bill and thirteen dishwasher loads and fifteen sleeping bags spread out in our living room made for a great time. We loved being able to bless others with our little home.

Marty also surprised me with a trip to New York for my birthday to go see "Wicked" on Broadway. It was the trip of a lifetime for me, a musical theater buff, who had never seen the stage actor's "holy land". I was so excited about the show that I cried through most of it, mouthing the words to each song, and wishing I was onstage too. Central Park, the Rockefeller Center, shopping along 5th Avenue, dining at the prestigious "21 Club", Times Square, Ground Zero. My my my.

When our first anniversary rolled around, we decided to take off again and stayed at the same hotel we were in on our wedding night. Honeymoon suite and everything. We did some wine tasting at a local winery and just enjoyed being us.

Well, that night I "proposed" to Marty with a pacifier and asked if he would start a family with me. We got pregnant that night. Guess God was ready to have baby make three! What a miracle that was, since our health issues were supposed to keep us from being able to conceive very quickly. We really do think of little Mo as our precious surprise.

But despite our baby joy, we never really "clicked" in Fresno. It isn't exactly a family-friendly community, seeing as how people get shot in local mall parking lots pretty regularly. So when Marty got laid off in January of 2007 due to the falling mortgage industry, we were excited about exploring other options. Nevermind that we were five months pregnant at the time.

We took a little break from everything and went to visit my brother and his wife in Seattle--to clear our heads and pray over where God wanted us to go from there.

Enter Redding. A job offer came through and we practically jumped at the chance. I was into my eighth month by then and was the size of a cow, so it was pretty hard to get everything packed up and moved, but we made it somehow and settled into our little apartment.

About a month later, Marty number four joined our little family. That's another story in itself, but just know it really strengthened our marriage and drew us closer together, since neither of us had any idea what to do with the little booger. When we brought him home from the hospital, we literally set him down and said, "Okay, that was fun. Now what?"

That "now what" eventually blossomed into the life we just love to pieces. We have an adorable son that we thank God for even in the midst of the poopiest diapers, we're in a beautiful house whose constant need for upkeep just adds to its charm, we have the best friends a couple of nerds could ever ask for, and a church community that constantly reminds us of how good God really is.

Sure, in our time together, we've dealt with more than most people will in a lifetime, but we've managed to smile even through our tears. In the midst of our chronic illnesses flaring up, emergency hospital visits, being so broke we only ate rice for a week or two, both losing a grandmother, getting laid off twice, and completely uprooting our lives to chase a job more than once, we've embraced the opportunities to grow closer together and fight as one.

As a result, three years into our marriage we are happier than we have ever been. Which is hard to believe, since we've said the same thing almost every day since we first "met".

We look forward to seeing where the next however-many years will take our marriage. What a joy to know we have a lifetime of lessons to learn and love to give.

Bring it on! We'll be dancing and laughing our way in to year number three...

a typical Moseley car ride

A whiny baby, singing Daddy, and some kind of threat...

two weddings and a baby

Seems like we're always out-of-town these days.

Some of our trips have been obligation trips. But most have been "because we really really want to be there" trips. Last weekend was one of those.

We drove down to San Jose Thursday night and got to hang out with my brother and sister-in-law at the old Bux for a couple hours. Enjoying a few laughs over lattes. Then we headed to my in-laws where we were met with some pretty freakin' cool news--I'm going to be an aunt thanks to Matt and Anna's mad baby-making skills. I started crying right away, as did all the other women there, one of which can at least blame it on pregnancy hormones. But really, our little Moseley fam couldn't be more thrilled to be welcoming another tiny member.

Friday we attended one of the ritziest (is that a word?) weddings I've probably ever been to. And thankfully I didn't have to chase a little munchy munchkin around the whole time, since we dropped precious Goobie off with my parents that morning. But really, the wedding was gorgeous and made my own nuptual affair seem more WalMart-status next to this wedding's Martha Stewart-ness. There were even pearls hanging from trees.

I loved being a part--the bride is a Moseley family friend who Marty grew up with and I knew from church. The highlight, though? A fellow guest admitting to me that she wasn't wearing underwear, another admitting that her thong was riding up her butt, and Matt, my brother-in-law, chasing down the appetizer trays on behalf of his adorably pregnant wife.

Later, on the dance floor, I tried to shake it and failed miserably. I should really stop trying--I STILL look like a duck trying to whistle when I dance.

Saturday held wedding number two in honor of one of my dearest friends from high school, Mrs. Mary Christine Virginia Baynhem Pitts Wilcox. No joke. But my sweet Christie looked fabulous.

The festivities were held in Monterey, so my best friend from high school, Amanda, and her husband Ryan, tagged along with Marty and I in our beastly truck. On the way there, we had to stop and pee, a detour during which one of our Amanda and Becky Adventures readily ensued. Seriously, weird things happen to us. Let's just say we laughed so hard we almost had to pee all over again. Icky icky.

Funny how when I hang out with my high school buds, it's easy to revert back to my goofy, slightly annoying and loud-mouthed high school self. My pal Nathan was there, and we enjoyed laughing over watery margaritas and salted rims on plastic cups. Laughing AT the people who were drunk within five minutes of us being there, the people who cheered at every little thing and tried to dance while holding their beer. Beats us trying to entertain ourselves in ninth grade by dressing up like Christian punks and walking the local mall.

So walking back to our car in Monterey, even if we weren't walking in a straight line, we passed California's very first theater. And being the drama buff that I am, I had to stop and pose. See, I played the leading lady in all of my high school's musicals, and most of the plays we performed. If ever you want some quality blackmail on me, my mom still has a video tape of me belting out a song or two as Little Orphan Annie, curly red wig and all. Broadway, I'd kiss your hand if you had one to kiss.

So, fun weddings and fun times. Marty and I looked fabulous in our get-up. We bought Marty a suit for his birthday, so technically a "birthday suit". Gray and a paisley black silk tie and a good-smelling-ness. I wore an adorable pink silky vintage dress, and at least tried to get my hair to cooperate and be twisted and pulled off to the side to complete my vintage look. Blood, sweat, and bobby pins notwithstanding, I think we really can dress up when we bother putting in the effort.

So, Sunday. Lunch at my parents' house. Yellow shirts. All my sisters lovingly patting each other's legs.

After a long but very fun weekend, we headed home to celebrate a little alone time. Yes, we were sad to leave.

But considering our track record so far this summer, another getaway is on the horizon. Four are coming up within the next month to be exact. So if you come a-knockin' and we don't come a-answerin', we're probably off enjoying another rendevous.

Let's hope they're all as good as this one was. With just as many puke-flavored smoothies and shoe-matchy emergencies. Sigh.

SYTYCD

Friends, it's back.

My favorite show ever has just started its fourth season, and I'm one lucky gal to get to enjoy it all summer long. Say it with me--"So You Think You Can Dance"!

Last May, June, and July's Wednesday and Thursday nights found our tiny apartment packed with fellow "Dance" fans, from North and Shannon, my Judy Garland buffs, to Patrick and Bethany, who were really just there to hang out, to Billy and Heather, who loved chipping in on how lame certain costumes were. Okay, I cherished every moment of it. Even when I had to pause and rewind about a thousand times because the boys were talking so loudly over Nigel's criticisms and Mary Murphy's hot tamale train. Pure networking genius, I tell you.

And not just because I used to dance. But mostly because I used to dance. My Crohn's disease limited my athletic ability since my joints were so weak, so (go figure) I took dance classes instead of PE in high school. Pretty lame, since we only danced to praise music and did the same lyrical half-hearted moves in every number. But I loved dancing, so I pulled up my black spandex dance pants and tied my jazz shoes and clapped my hands and stomped my feet to the best of my ability.

Many years later, I suck at dancing but wish I could be amazing again. Although some might say that I was never amazing to begin with. Whatever. I was cool in my own head and that's what counts, right? Even if when I shake it I purse my lips like a duck trying to whistle.

Enter "So You Think You Can Dance". Pretty much the coolest couple of hours during my week. And even though I haven't had a houseful of buddies over yet, I'm enjoying every moment of this new season and it's fresh dancing meat. I may not be fun to watch it with (sorry Sarah), because I can't help but talk through the whole thing, but my giddiness and excitement is infectious. I promise. Enough to make my husband watch two two-hour episodes back-to-back with me until the wee hours of the morning. Someone loves me very much.

But my absolute favorite part? Marty and I have come up with our own dance moves that we get up and perform during the commercial breaks. His is that "junk in the trunk" dance that we always talk about but no one ever sees since he's kind of embarrassed of himself for coming up with it. And I call mine "screet dancing" in honor of one of last year's performers. And we are hilarious.

So head on over to the Moseley pad when it's on next, and you just might catch us prancing around like the idiots that we love to be. But come on, don't fault us. We just "Think We Can Dance".

Why Redding saved my life...

Yes, Redding has changed me.

Many of you know our story, and many of you probably don't. So for those who have not yet enjoyed the privelege of me blabbering on about my life and how we were brought to Redding, read on. The great thing about having it typed out for you is that you can skim at your leisure. You don't have to worry about me watching your eyes glass over with boredom.

Anyway, Marty and I got married in September of 2005, and promptly moved to Fresno for Marty's job. He got transferred down there by the mortgage company he was working for, as they were opening a new branch and needed a talented staff to fill all the empty desk chairs.

It was a stressful transition for us. I had never lived on my own before and was trying to figure out how to be a wife and roommate all at the same time. And we didn't know anyone in Fresno--no friends or family to rely on for our social entertainment. Needless to say, it got really hard. Our evenings were spent cooped up in our little apartment, watching tv and lamenting the distance between us and the life we shared during our dating years in San Jose. We knew that plugging into a church would help us connect, but the several churches we tried had pretty huge doctrinal issues that prevented us from really feeling comfortable attending regularly.

We managed to make friends with one couple, though, that we met through a Bible study. They happened to live right around the corner from us, so we enjoyed getting to know them during American Idol marathons and margarita nights. I swear, they are the reason we survived those two long years. Without their friendship and support, I think we would've gone a little crazy. I know that God provided Breanne and Brent at the perfect time. They even got pregnant just a month before we did, so we got to watch our bellys grow together and share in the joy of awaiting our firstborn sons.

But just as we began getting comfortable with the Hulstroms, hoping we'd get to experience parenthood together, we learned that our dear friends were moving to a little town several hours away from our little Fresno bungalo. It shook us up as we began to realize that the only good thing in Fresno would be leaving us.

Enter Marty getting laid off. We decided it was the perfect chance to start somewhere new, and leave dusty Fresno in the...dust. Enter Matt (Marty's brother) calling Marty and telling him that he should consider Redding. That he'd love to have us live closer. Enter a job offer from Pete and Benji. Enter my eight-months-pregnant belly agreeing to pack up all our things and make the seven-hour drive to our brand new life.

Since we already knew a couple couples here, it was a pretty easy transition. We enjoyed being able to call up some Shirleys or Browns and share a dinner party on a moment's notice. And once the baby was born, or cut out of me I guess, Matt and Anna, proud Uncle and Aunt, stopped by pretty frequently to play with the little guy. We felt kind of popular.

And that feeling of being HOME hasn't faltered one bit since the day we settled in. We love it here, and finally feel as though we've found our niche. I always joke that we love it so much we'll probably end up dying here in Redding, and being buried in the graveyard on Cypress. You know, the one that has fake flowers at every grave site, and always looks beautiful? I want mine to have tulips, please.

Sure, Redding isn't perfect. It's been hard to be farther away from our parents in San Jose, but we've managed to build ourselves our own little family here, with "aunts" and "uncles" and "cousins" for little Marty, and "brothers" and "sisters" and best friends for us. Who says you have to actually be related to people to feel related to people?

But really, thank you to all of you who have welcomed us with open arms. I never dreamed that we'd manage to feel part of a community. That we'd have friends we could hang out with every night of the week and never get sick of. That we'd feel needed and sought after. That we'd be included without having to invite ourselves places.

Redding pulled us out of the depression we were in. Out of the funk and loneliness that Fresno gave us, and into a life that's so full it overflows on a daily basis. It really did save our pathetic little existence, and remind us that we have so much to look forward to in the years to come.

You, friends, are the reason we're smiling.

scooter smiles

So, you've heard about our disappointment regarding scooters not being delivered the day they were promised. Well, after endless hours of waiting and nervous anticipation, a big ol' truck drove up to our little house yesterday afternoon with early Christmas presents for Bobby and Marty. Friday was officially "scooter day".

It took a while for the boys to help the delivery guy unload the huge packages (okay, have to say it--"that's what she said"), but it was fun to watch them prance around a bit like little boys on the first day of summer vacation. Seriously, I don't think I've ever seen two grown men giggle like they did. They couldn't get those scooters assembled fast enough.

Despite a couple hiccups along the way, both scooters were put together in no time. The proud wifey-s looked on with cameras in hand and babies on hips, as Candace so accurately put it. It was a monumental moment as we counted down to the actual turning of the engine keys. But nothing happened. A discussion about throttles and chokes and kick starts ensued, as Candace and I just sat and stared, lovingly listening to our precious boys talk like men. An hour, a trip to the gas station in a "girl car" as the neighbor boy put it, and some sore legs later, engines were purring and we tearfully waved goodbye as our husbands rode off into the sunset. Nevermind that they were back two minutes later to complain that the bikes just were fast enough and needed more air pressure in the tires.

It may have taken a while, but last night Bobby and Marty slept peacefully knowing their little matching scooters and new matching "big boy" helmets (voted on by the wives for improved safety) were finally home.

scooter blues

So, we're pretty broke. That's not really anything new for those of you who know us well.

But we're finally taking our lives into our own hands and trying to cut back on some things. The most significant change? We're selling our Durango. It's been a great car, and I'll certainly miss it. But I won't miss the $400 car payment each month and the $100 in gas and the $50 or so in insurance.

I told Marty that I needed some kind of transportation, though, since staying at home all day while he took our only car to and from work would drive me crazy. I get restless and need to go out and do things, even if it's just a trip to Barnes to read through some of my favorite Bernstein Bears books from when I was a kid, or an American Eagle visit to see how Marty's holding up.

The solution? We bought Marty a scooter with our tax return money. It was kind of a splurge, but we got more back on our return than we expected, and the silly little thing will pay for itself in no time since we'll be saving $550 per month by selling the Durango.

It's just funny because Marty's best bud Bobby got one too. So they'll be able to scoot around town together on their little matching scooters in their little matching helmets. I swear they have a man crush on each other.

Anyway, the bikes were supposed to arrive today, so at around 2pm, the Pecauts came over and we anxiously awaited their delivery together. We sat through "Bee Movie"--had to make sure it was a movie our kids would like someday, you know? No bikes. We ordered pizza. No bikes. We talked about spiritual gifts over dinner--great conversation. No bikes. We rented "Cloverfield" and nearly pooped our pants freaking out. No bikes. We made brownies. No bikes. Candace and I had to just laugh at our poor husbands, who were sitting around waiting with their helmets on, ready to hop on and cruise around town the second those scooters were dropped off.

Guess their dream will have to come true tomorrow.

splish, splash

So, this is the super cute video we took of my son in his grandparents' pool. We think he was trying to "feel" the water with his little hand.

P.S. Yes, my husband looks very pastey white. But he has some time to work on that tan before our cruise in September, so have mercy, people.

seeing double

I just had to share this precious moment between father and son.

Aren't my Martys adorable?

minesweeper blues

Today was not a great day.

I woke up feeling sick--sore throat, runny nose. And my cute little bundle of joy was having problems today too. Let's just say I'm pretty sure there's snot covering about 90% of my home.

But when I had the chance to lay down and take a nap, I ended up playing minesweeper on our new computer instead. I can't believe it! I mean, it's a fun game, and I'm stinkin' good at it, but come on. Minesweeper?! I'm an idiot.

So when Marty came home from his long day at work, he was sweet enough to take the baby and give me a little break from everything. I enjoyed the chance to lay down and just relax without any responsibilities, and no computer games to distract me.

I feel loads better already, and am so thankful for a husband who is sensitive to my needs and quirks. And I do mean quirks.

the big three-oh in Cab-oh

So we're going on a freakin' cruise.

For those of you who know our history with cruises, you'll understand why this is such a big deal to us. See, we were supposed to go on a cruise of the western Carribean for our honeymoon. Marty had planned it all out for us, and was so thrilled to be able to take his new wife on such a tropical, romantic getaway. Well, Hurricane Katrina hit a couple days before our wedding. And our cruise ship was supposed to dock in and out of New Orleans. Oops. So they re-routed us a bit and told us our new port would be in beautiful Galveston, Texas. We rearranged our flights and hotels and all that. No harm done, right? So the morning of our wedding Marty got a call from the cruise line saying that FEMA was confiscating our ship to use as housing for the Katrina refugees. Our cruise was cancelled and we honeymooned in "beautiful" Galveston, Texas.

Needless to say, we were a little bitter when we saw our cruise ship docked there with no refugees in sight. Just an empty boat representing our empty honeymoon dreams. Although honeymoons are all about having crazy monkey sex anyway, so I guess in the long run it doesn't really matter where you do it. Ha ha.

Anyway, we're finally going on a freakin' cruise. Marty turns thirty this year (gasp), so in thinking about how to celebrate his milestone birthday, I decided it had to be something big. How about a five-night cruise down to Cabo? We leave Monday, September 15th, and will be baby-less for a whole week as we hang out and enjoy some time to ourselves. So so fun. I can hardly wait.

I was going to keep it a surprise, but really could hardly wait to tell Marty about the pending va-cay. And with the tough time he's been having at work, I knew it would do him some good to have something fun to look forward to. So two weeks ago, I set up a little scavenger hunt for him that led him through our house as he found clues that hinted towards the big gift--the cruise.


It started with a little note on the door explaining that his August birthday would be celebrated earlier than usual this year...

And ended with a very happy husband and proud wife for being able to pull off such a fun surprise!

So if you see us in late August and we look more tan than usual, and our smiles are a bit bigger than usual, you'll know why.