just hilarious...

Excerpts from a dog's diary:

8:00 a.m. - Dog food! My favorite thing!
9:30 a.m. - A car ride! My favorite thing!
9:40 a.m. - A walk in the park! My favorite thing!
10:30 a.m. - Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!
12:00 p.m. - Lunch! My favorite thing!
1:00 p.m. - Played in the yard! My favorite thing!
3:00 p.m. - Wagged my tail! My favorite thing!
5:00 p.m. - Oh boy, Milk Bones! My favorite thing!
7:00 p.m. - Got to play ball! My favorite thing!
8:00 p.m. - Wow! Watched TV with people! My favorite thing!
11:00 p.m. - Sleeping on the bed! My favorite thing.

Excerpts from a cat's diary:

Day 983 of my captivity.

My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat while the other inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets. Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength. The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape.

In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomited on the carpet.

Today I also decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts since it clearly demonstrates what I am capable of. However, they merely made condescending comments about what a "good little hunter" I am. Bastards!

There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight and I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. In fact, I overheard that my confinement was due to the power of "allergies." I must learn what this means and how to use it to my advantage.

Today I was almost successful in my attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try this again tomorrow - but at the top of the stairs.

I am convinced that the other prisoners here are Flunkies and Snitches.

The dog here receives special privileges. He is regularly released, and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously retarded.

The bird has got to be an informant. I observe him communicating with the guards regularly, and I am certain that he reports my every move. Unfortunately, my captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so he is safe.

For now...

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!

the surprises continue...

So, just when I thought my birthday couldn't get any better, it hecka did.

I had a great breakfast with Sarah this morning, complete with the most delicious apricot-peach-pear smoothie I've ever had. Nevermind it's the only one I've ever had, but it was still amazing. Amazing enough to blog about, so you KNOW it was good.

Then I went to Moms Group and enjoyed a chance to chat with my gal pals. And I think I walked away with the silliest holiday socks from our sock exchange. Maybe they'll have to make a repeat appearance next year...

So after leaving Rebecca's, I came home to a smiling husband and smiling son. Always a good thing. Marty was all geared up to watch "The Today Show", since Candace had mentioned that she was standing in the audience behind where they were shooting in New York this morning. Sure enough, there was my best bud, wearing my scarf and gloves and holding a sign that said "Happy 24th Birthday, Becky!" So I was actually wished a happy birthday on national television. Not a lot of people can say that! I felt so special.

Spent the afternoon being lazy around the house with my boys, complete with family nap-time and a mailbox full of really fun birthday cards and Christmas pictures.

Then after enjoying dinner with my hubby at Red Robin (thanks, Emily, for watching little Marty), we stopped by Target so I could spend the gift card my mother-in-law sent. I picked out a gorgeous new winter coat that I've been needing. It's one that will actually keep me warm and look stylish all at the same time!

So new coat in hand, we drove to Brent VanAuken's house for what I thought was just a Christmas party with friends. When I walked in, there were balloons and cupcakes and presents and friends yelling, "SURPRISE!" Seriously, I nearly cried. I feel so blessed to be so loved. Thank you Rachel, Brent and Kristena for throwing together a great party, and thanks Meghan and Jeremy, Pearcia and Eric, Patrick and Bethany, Billy and Heather, Jamie and Matt, and Amy for being there to support and celebrate me.

And we ended the night with a precious card and gift from each of my boys. My Martys.

I really do think this ended up being the best birthday ever.

Happy Birthday to me...

Yes, today is my birthday. Good ol' December the 16th.

And like most of you, I've had my share of good birthday memories and bad. Poor Marty felt the pressure to make this year's day extra special, as it's been a rough past couple of months.

Well, it's only been my birthday for an hour, and I've already cried tears of joy at least three times. I feel loved and blessed and so appreciated for who I am--plain ol' me! Can you believe it?

See (story about to unfold, here), my best friend Candace is in New York City with hubby Bobby today, celebrating her own birthday. Since she knew she'd be gone on my big day, she gave me my present ahead of time and told me not to open it until my actual birthday. Curiosity nearly got the best of me several different times, but something told me to wait. To avoid trying to peek underneath the wrapper and just let myself open it when I was supposed to open it.

I'm glad I did. Marty and I stayed up past midnight watching "SNL", so we could be up to ring in the special day. Well not a couple minutes after twelve, Marty asked if I wanted to open my present from Candace. Duh!

In it was a DVD that simply said, "Watch me." It opened with one of my favorite songs, a worship song by Watermark, and the title, "Happy Birthday, Becky!" Then one by one, my close friends appeared on the screen, telling me what they loved about me. I cried through the whole thing. I guess I just never knew that I mattered so much to people, or that I was as special as they made me sound.

So thank you Candace, Sarah, Rachael, Pearcia, Bethany, Kristena, Heather, Billy, Bobby, Annette, and Marty. Your words spoke volumes, and my heart is so full right now. You've all made me feel worth something, and I haven't felt that in such a long time.

Man, oh man.

Later this morning Sarah is taking me to breakfast, then I have Moms Group with all my favorite gal pals, then Marty and I get to hang out all day and go somewhere fun for dinner. Then I still have a birthday celebration with my family to look forward to whenever we're all together next, and Bobby and Candace and Matt and Sarah and Marty and I are going to barbeque a couple steaks in the snow to celebrate even more, then Candace and I still have to throw ourselves the joint birthday party that we've been planning all year.

I think it's safe to say that this year's birthday is going to be one of the good birthdays.

whew...

I did it.

I've had this to-do task on my endless to-do list for ages. And I finally finished it. Mostly. The bulk of the work is done, and I'm happy as a clam, no matter how late I had to stay up to be able to put a big check-mark next to that one.

So, I designed another website. For a friend of Mimi's friend's mom. She's a part of this group that speaks at women's retreats and other events, and wanted me to design a website for their team. I think it turned out pretty well, if I do say so myself. And I DO say so myself.

Check it out: friendsoftheheart.us.

And to answer your question, YES, I am a total nerd and do enjoy sitting in front of my computer for hours on end. It's my one connection to the outside world--my one way to feel productive outside my home.

Doesn't hurt that I'm getting paid for it, either. Can't wait to wash the mountains of laundry I have piling up in my living room with the new washer and dryer I'm going to buy with my nerdy website money.

Typity type + nerdity nerd = no longer wearing the same outfit five days in a row. Marty's nostrils will thank me.

D'OH!!

Happiness is NOT...

...grabbing a quick latte from Dutch Bros, specifically asking for decaf, and winding up awake at 4:30am because for some odd reason you just can't sleep.

The rest of my family, cat included, is sleeping peacefully, thereby ensuring their contentedness in the morning. I, on the other hand, promise to be a pill when my alarm goes off in just a few short hours. I'll likely hit the snooze button nine times and have to show up at church with oily, pony-tailed hair again.

At least I made my insomniac-ish self useful. Our Christmas newsletter is written, pictures printed, witty quips giggled over. One project I can partially cross off my extensive to-do list.

Perhaps I should add "never go to Dutch Bros after 7pm, whether or not you order decaf" to that list.

one thing I'm thankful for...

My son now knows the word "tattoo".

I swear, it's the cutest thing. He got a little rub-on tattoo in his Happy Meal that Pops (his grandpa) bought for him during their outing together this week. So Daddy helped him put it on his fat little arm, and taught him to say "tattoo". Except he says "TAT-toooooooooo!!"

Funny--it's the first word that he's ever pronounced correctly. Everything else is "guck" or "pawk" or "la-bobt". I'm beginning to wonder if this whole tattoo fascination is a sign of things to come.

I can just picture him eighteen years from now, coming home, pointing to his arm and saying, "Look, Mom. I got a TAT-toooooooooo!!"

I think I'll curl into a ball and cry.

my little booger

My son just blew his nose into his hand.

Gross? Yeah.

Icky? Sure.

Absolutely freakin' hilarious? You betcha.

so almost a month later...

Blogging silence noted.

It's not that I haven't thought of a zillion things to blog about between October 3rd and now. It's not that I haven't had the time to sit down and post a little somethin'-somethin' for you bloggy-hungry fans. It's not that I haven't taken enough pictures of our last month of Moseley life. I swear, I have plenty of digital-camera-ish proof that we do still exist.

My excuse? Not really sure. And not really sure an excuse is important anyway.

Let's just say that I haven't been myself lately. And when you're not yourself, it's hard to try to pretend to be yourself so that no one will notice that you're not really yourself. Follow me?

My little funk this past month is hard to describe, so I won't bother going there. I'll just say that my life has changed in a thousand little ways over the last couple weeks, and I'm working on figuring out how to live with these adjustments. And I'm not quite back to myself yet, so it may take a while for me to start blogging again with as much regularity and hilarity as I have in the past.

I reached my breaking point this past Tuesday and it kind of woke me up to what's been going on. It scared me to realize that I didn't recognize even a small part of the girl I was that morning. She was a stranger to me, and I started to actually miss myself.

To be honest though, now that I've hit my lowest low, I feel comforted knowing I can only go up from here. I'm working through it all and trying really hard to rediscover the Becky in me that thinks burping is something to be proud of and that any white girl can dance like Beyonce if she tries hard enough. The Becky that doesn't have to be perfect, or have everything figured out.

So though this process may take a while, know that in the meantime, I'm probably in my living room shaking my little boo-tay and thinking I can at least be a pop star in my own head.

we have the worst luck...

So I got rear-ended on Tuesday.

I was on my way home from Moms Group, waiting for traffic to clear so I could merge onto one of the busy streets in town (yes, traffic DOES exist in our little po-dunk town). Out of nowhere, my truck lurched forward, and I realized I'd been hit.

Right away I felt sick to my stomach, and couldn't help but let the tears flow. I tried to keep my anger and raw emotion quiet, though, so I wouldn't upset the two babies in my back seat. I was sobbing but saying "it's okay, we're okay" over and over for the sake of keeping the kids as calm as possible.

The girl who hit me looked like she was starting to just drive off, but was actually pulling into a parking lot so we could chat and exchange information. I had to pray through what I was going to say to her, even though my blubbering still came out pretty harsh. I was reprimanding her and asking what happened and letting her know that I had kids in the car--it all came out so fast. But I guess she had thought that traffic was clear and assumed I had already merged, while looking over her shoulder and pressing on the gas pedal.

I was at a dead stop. And she came at me pretty fast. I mean, there's significant damage to my truck. My beast of a car--I swear that thing is a monster. So for her to cause the huge gash that she did means she hit me hard.

Four days later I'm still dealing with severe whiplash. My neck and upper back hurt no matter what way I try to move them, so going about my usual mom business has been more than difficult. Thanks to Miss Bram, I met with a chiropractor today who is going to adjust all three of my misaligned vertebrae tomorrow afternoon. Even my little Goob got a little adjustment this morning, since his neck was slightly off as well.

So I'm in the midst of insurance policy allowances and claims representatives and personal injury settlements and auto body shops and even new carseats. As if we needed one more thing on our already heaping plate.

But here's where we shake our heads and wonder why, oh why, we're being put through the ringer right now...

Marty was driving home tonight from seeing a movie with some buddies when the truck's back tire blew out. In the pouring rain. Without a spare, since we'd already used it last year. Mind you, the truck is our only method of transportation right now. Marty's bike is out of commission and we just sold our Durango to my dad.

So we're car-less and broke. No money to pay for a replacement tire, no money to rent a car to get Marty to and from work for the next couple days while they replace the tire, fix any damage to the rim, and do all the body work needed to patch up the area where I got rear-ended. So THIS is why people have savings to dip into. And THIS is why I'm hating that we have no savings to dip into because we're living paycheck to paycheck as it is.

The funny thing is, even though I should be stressed beyond belief, all I can do is just shake my head and wonder how on earth God is going to get us through this one. Our entire marriage has been one crazy adventure after another, and we've seen God step in on our behalf time and again, so we know we'll be okay. We just don't know what that's going to look like at this point.

Maybe we should just be thankful that our precious son is too young to understand all of this. He wasn't phased by the car accident at all, and doesn't know how tight things are for Mommy and Daddy right now.

He might miss the truck, though, while it's being worked on, since every morning he walks up to our front door, points outside, and says "GUCK!" It means he wants to take a ride in the car and go somewhere fun.

So, Baby, until our "guck" comes home, you and I will have to make our living room as fun as possible. Legos and squeaky books and pillow forts, oh my!