slip of the tongue...

So, my dear dear friend Rachael said something at Moms Group last week that STILL has me cracking up at the thought.

When referring to Bobby and Candace, she accidentally said Bobbace and Candy. Instant, unintentional humor. We've been quoting her all week, trying to decide which Pecaut gets to be "Candy". Hard to say when they're both so sweet (ha ha--cheese, I know).

But all this Bobbace talk got me thinking. I started using Rachael's name formula, plugging in different friends and family members to see which couples sound extra silly in Rachael-ese.

I'll let you decide for yourself:

Marcky and Bety
Rychael and Rayan
Marah and Satt
Mess and Jike
Yadriana and Aori
Beather and Hilly
Manna and Att
Marty and Mimi (ha ha)
Baura and Len
Grannah and Hace
Rary Ann and Mick
Katasha and NC

I don't know. I think Bobbace and Candy still take the cake. Er, the candy.

Here it is, girls...

So, at almost every Stirring function, when a bunch of us women are sitting around, sipping coffee and gabbing about the latest vampire novel, somehow my huge pregnant belly always seems to come up in conversation. I don't know how it creeps in there, but it does, and I find myself smiling and nodding as these girls tell me how huge I was. And no one means any harm by it, it's just that apparently I was an anomoly to the entire church body--I was the new girl that was skinny as a rail with a belly the size of China tacked onto the front of me. I was the new girl that nobody knew but everybody knew.

And of course, at a baby shower this past week, my big ol' belly stuck it's big ol' belly into a convo some of the girls were having about pregnancy. I was chatting with someone else when I overheard someone mention my name and say the usual, "But you couldn't even tell she was pregnant from the back!" It's probably because I gained all my pregnancy weight in my face. All forty pounds, sitting in my cherub-y chipmunk cheeks.

Anyway, a couple of the girls at the baby shower met me after I had had Marty and was at least trying to squeeze into normal-people clothing. They know me as my much smaller, much less whoa-look-at-that-belly-there-must-be-like-five-babies-in-there self. So, friends, since you asked to see a picture of this pregnancy anomoly, I thought I'd oblige. Even though pulling this photo out again makes me feel like I have to pee--I swear, my bladder was flat as a pancake by this point:


So yes, I really was this big. Goo. I had to literally cradle my belly and support its weight with my arms if I walked for more than ten minutes, just to spare my poor aching back. And I was pregnant for another three weeks AFTER this picture was taken. So tack on another ten-or-so pounds, and you've got a great mental picture of me waddling into the maternity ward when Marty was finally ready to arrive, yelling at some poor nurse to "get this thing out of me"!

Fun times, gals. FUN times.

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.