Don't Tease Me!

Tonight Rebecca called and asked...

"Have you been by Aerocare lately?"

"Don't tease me!" I exclaimed.

"I had nothing to do with it, but you might want to drive by." "Sweet!"

"Talk to you later."

"Bye"

Pretty much one of the best phone conversations of my life.

So here is their attempt for Patriotism...

It was 10:00pm tonight and Rhett drove me up. I started twisting my camera onto the tripod.

Rhett: "You brought the tripod?"
Jess: "Of course. Have to... night shoot."

Rhett: "Jess, isn't this a little embarrassing?"
Jess: "What? taking pictures? or just the tripod."

Rhett: "Aren't you embarrassed when people drive by and you're out there with all your equipment taking pictures of that" [pointing to the window]

Jess: [sarcastically]"Rhett, when are you going to grow up" as she gets out of the car

Photo shoot takes place while Rhett and RJ wait in the car. At first glance this wasn't too different from last week, having no major change in the position of the mannequins. But as I got closer, a nuance that has gone unnoticed these last 6 months....

the packaging tape for a neck!!

When I saw this I think I did kind of a little dance. I was really excited and thought it was hilarious. Continued taking my pictures.

I hopped in the car and began telling Rhett about the gem I got of the neck on what I call the "Scarecrow Mannequin".

Rhett: So that must have been what you were freaking out about.

Jess: Oh ya. It was awesome!

Rhett: From out here it looked like you thought the mannequins were real models, pretending to be a photographer--dancing around and getting shots from all the different angles like you were encouraging the models on saying [in a feminine voice] 'looks great. You look hot. Work it girl!'

Jess: I guess from a distance it might have looked like that but it felt more like a mad scientist discovering something amazing.

Rhett: Either way, the people driving by would probably recommend some psychiatric help.

So I hope you enjoy these shots and I'm glad Aerocare did give something new before I left and thanks to Rhett for cracking me up in between and helping put my hobbies in perspective of the public.

Tagged for the Unusual

I think this was the first time I've been tagged personally, so I'm responding even though it was from last December by my bud JILL. Hers were hilarious, so mine will not measure up I'm sure.

I'm supposed to share 6 unusual things about myself.

I guess to think of unusual things about myself depends on my definition of unusual. I define unusual as something that most people don't know about me maybe and things I consider unique....

1. From age 3 to age 16 I was a BUN HEAD. What is a "bun head" you ask? Definition: a person who allows ballet to encompass most wakeful thoughts, goals, future plans, schedule, sacrifices anything in their life that would interfere with pursuing ballet. Sad but oh so true. I saw The Nutcracker on TV when I was three and fell in love and told my mom "I want to dance on my toes." At age 9 I arranged with my Grandma that I would move in with her to live closer to a ballet school that offered serious classical ballet training. My mom decided it was important enough to me she'd drive me the extra mileage. At age 10 I wrote "PRO BALLET IS MY FUTURE" on the arm rest of the family 1889 Suburban...I'm still hearing about that all the time. I did have some great experiences dancing so seriously, some bad experiences include my still deformed toes, but the good things are priceless. ..

• life long friendships with the girls I ended up spending more time with than my family during those years. So many fun times and amazing people
• opportunity to sacrifice a lot for something I was passionate about
• push myself physically
• learn mental and emotional toughness--the dance world can be ruthless on young girls
• chances to travel: Netherlands, Austria, Oregon, Arizona, California, even lived in San Francisco the summer before my sophomore year of high school dancing
• having the high of participating in something you absolutely love doing...artistic fulfillment maybe?

I was 15 and planning to basically drop out of high school and graduate in packets to dance for a small local professional company. My plan was to pursue a career, hopefully ending up in a big company in the next few years. Looking back, I see how I really wanted to put ballet above all other areas in my life and how short sighted I was.

Luckily, God blessed me with stress fractures in my hips that prevented me from dancing. This injury humbled me by allowing my world to crumble to my feet and from the stubble I realized where my priorities should be to help me obtain my true goals in life. Oddly enough, this injury was the hardest trial of my life so far because, at the time, every aspect of my life was altered when I left ballet because I'd allowed it to become my life. I found myself struggling to get to know my family that I'd not been around so much, trying to rekindle friendships at school that I'd let go because I had my ballet friends, and the aching hole in my identity not being able to dance, and testing my faith in God. I didn't understand why He would bless me with a talent, and then take it away after I'd sacrificed so much to magnify it. I think I was so obsessed about ballet I was doing anything to keep doing it, trying to use my own faith to make God change His will (not a logical idea by the way, you get closer to God which is good, but I found He is smarter than I am and broken hips is really what He wanted and the injury was't a trial of my faith, but a wake up call). I really held onto the parable from the New Testament about the woman being physically healed by touching the garment of Christ and then finding out it was by her own faith she was healed. I put myself through spiritual boot camp to try to develop faith sufficient for God to heal my body so I could return to ballet, but found instead God healed my soul so I could have the strength leave it.

It took 6 months for God to wrench my life around and through this process I found Him and myself. I figured out who I was and what was important in life to me in the long run, and realized ballet just couldn't be part of my plans anymore. I actually did return to ballet after healing through the injury, thinking I could still pursue it as an extracurricular activity, not allowing it to become my life again. I actually got back in shape quicker than I expected and performed one last time. It was George Balanchine's Serenade. Probably my favorite ballet I've ever danced, and one of the most fulfilling performances I've had...a tender mercy I think from God because He knew it would be my last. The next 3 days my injury flared up worse than it had ever been before and I knew it was time to hang up the point shoes forever...oddly enough there's still a huge basket of my nasty, worn point shoes sitting in my Mom's living room. But when I gave it up it was forever. I think it would be harder for me to just dance for fun than not do it at all, which I guess is what I've done, I haven't taken a dance class since. And maybe I never would have had the talent/ ability to dance professionally and God saved me the disappointment of giving it my all just to fail and turn around and find I didn't leave myself any other options. Even watching ballet now, awakens my passion I still have for the art and I do admit, even 7 years later, I still miss it in the back of my heart where I try not to look very often.

Looking back, it was the hardest thing I've gone through...which sounds so lame. The hardest thing in your life was giving up ballet? Cushy life...or that's just how important I'd foolishly allowed it to become to me and God knew ballet would be the hardest thing for me to sacrifice in order for me to gain a relationship with Him, and obviously it was worth it...and another perk has been my feet do look much better now than they did. :) And I have experienced much more happiness out of ballet than it could have offered me. I guess that's the gift of trials, to finally see why you had to go through something. The point where you look back and are grateful God allowed you to suffer because you understand the blessings that came from it--in my case, blessings that would radiate in all directions and in all aspects of my life.

HOLY CRAP...NOT WHAT I EXPECTED. I JUST STARTED AND IT ALL GUSHED OUT. A LOT MORE SENTIMENTAL THAN I USUALLY LIKE TO BE AND FAR TOO SERIOUS FOR THIS BLOG. I GUESS THIS POST WILL BE UNUSUAL FOR ME IN ADDITION TO TELLING WHY I'M UNUSUAL...sorry for the seriousness.

Now for something unusual about me that is a little more light hearted.

2. I love RASPBERRIES. For some reason, my brain is chemically engineered to react to raspberries as if it were cocaine or heroine. I can't get enough and it's "eating euphoria" for me. Thus the times as a kid I'd binge in my aunt's raspberry patch, just eating, eating away until it caught up with me and I was just sitting, sitting.....all day on the toilet.

3. I was never asked to prom, thus I never had a prom dress. That pretty much sums up my appeal to the opposite sex during high school. It's OK though, my mom's story of starting her menstrual period in a white dress at her prom with a nightmare attempt to get a hold of feminine hygiene supplies with no success kept me thinking I could possibly be fine without prom in my life...she definitely wishes she had.

OK...now this post has gone a bad direction with bodily functions. You're probably wishing we were farther than half way through this tag...

4. I've only worn high heels once (other than playing dress up)...it was to a Christmas Party in 2005 at my friend, Jen Schow's house. There's a reason it took me so long for me to attempt it, and another reason I haven't done it since. It's best for everyone to keep my heels as close to the ground as possible.

5. No matter how hard I try not to, I HAVE to look at road kill as I drive by. How gross is that? Katherine said at one point she did too, so maybe this isn't too unusual? But for some reason I see it as a lump from a distance and think "look away, just look straight ahead that's nothing you want to see"but then I always have to look at the last second... "deer? rabbit? cat? hopefully a nasty possum?" This bad habit/ guilty pleasure? has become more prevalent since living in Missouri...hopefully I'll be cured when I live in an area with less animal life squashed on the side of the road.

6. I hate to waste...anything...I'm a little obsessive about it. Those who live in close quarters with me for too long will confirm. I went through a period of using minimal water when I showered so I'd get wet, turn off the water, lather up, rinse then turn it off again, put conditioner in my hair, then turn it back on to rinse that out. This drove my older brother crazy who was waiting for me so he could use shower: "What the heck are doing in there? Taking 10 showers?" Apparently every time he'd hear the water turn off he'd get up and head to the bathroom, only to hear the shower turn back on as he'd arrive at the door. After three trips he was ticked.

My best friend in college saw me taking notes on this pre-used sheet of paper and asked "What are you doing. I see plenty of fresh paper in your notebook." What she couldn't understand, even after explaining, if you take a piece of paper covered in writing you don't need anymore, you can flip it 90 degrees to "landscape" position and write across the lines and previous writing with a different color pen and thus you get two papers in one. OK, I admit that was excessive to save one stupid piece of paper.

This all seems like a weird collection of things that make me unusual...not sure this is what the tag was supposed to be.

Dang You Aerocare!

If you've been watching our blog, you've seen two previous posts featuring Aero care. This business wins any award for "Creepy Window Display". Since I know our blog is lame-o I won't assume you've been a dedicated viewer and have already seen the previous posts, here are the links: If this is your first Aero Care experience, I suggest seeing post one first as it explains the business and it might make more sense...but maybe just a little.
Post One--Summer Fun for the Disabled

Post Two--Christmas Eve Murder Scene

I've been driving by Aero care for the last six months waiting for them to rearrange their creepiness to give me another chance to enjoy their "style" one last time before we move in 3 weeks. But here it stays, the same set up since Christmas. I noticed in March they put two green top hats on each mannequin for St. Patricks Day, but please, it's just not as exciting. So here is my final, disappointing post on Aero care...going out with a dud. Also, where did the blond mannequin go featured in the summer post??? I also just noticed that the standing mannequin is missing her 4th and 5th fingers on her right hand. Did a department store put these in the trash and an Aero care employee rescued them???

If you've seen the 80s flick Mannequin, (I loved this movie by the way) can you imagine what these poor saps' options are when they come alive? Hang out and have wheelchair races? Contests who can hold their breath the longest wearing a bi-pap? I bet these mannequins wish they'd never been rescued from the JC Penny dumpster...especially the one that only has a head and hands attached to the red he/she stuffed body.

Fishing

Saturday we tried to go fishing. Unfortunately it started raining so we were only there half an hour. Rhett only had time to catch one measly small mouth bass.

This is a lame post.

Sistine Chapel

Last month marked the two year anniversary of one of my most memorable embarrassing moments...

Rhett lived in Italy from 2000- 2002 serving an LDS mission. Naturally, he wanted to go back, and had planned to return on his honeymoon, but we didn't (click here for the whole story on my telling him about my honeymoon obligations) and ended up going to Italy for two weeks in 2006 after we'd been married two years and just graduated from Weber State.


We spent half a day in London on our way to Italy, and had just experienced one of the best days of my life touring Rome. The fateful day of my life altering tourist experience was Day 2 in Italy--the day dedicated to the Vatican and seeing the Sistine Chapel and St. Peter's Basilica.


We were staying in a Bed and Breakfast and that morning I had cereal, and the milk was packaged in paper, like soy milk here in the states. We were in the crowded, hot subway when it hit me, or rather that milk hit my intestines.


Rhett carried everything the entire trip, so I had him scrambling through the backpack for our chewable tums. After we got off the subway, I felt OK.
The line to the Vatican museums can be miles long, so we got in line blocks back. Then my bowels made an urgent cry to my brain to find a restroom. Unfortunately, finding a public restroom in Europe is nearly impossible. So when Rhett pointed out a line of obvious tourists coming out of a bar a block or two away, I sprinted away from him, racing to a toilet, with nothing but myself in jeans and a t-shirt. I got in line and as it inched forward, a kid (probably 10 years old) came running past everyone frantically to the front of the line. A bunch of these retired, southern accented American tourists started yelling at this little boy to get in the back of the line. The kid came running out just as fast as he went in, obviously lost and looking for his parents. After this, I thought there's no way anyone would let me ahead in line just because I'm sick if a lost kid received no sympathy.


Just as I thought this, my body revolted against me. I froze in place wide-eyed, sweating, salivating, and clinching every muscle in my body in the battle of me vs. my bowels. I hate to admit my defeat, but my GI tract won and there I was: alone, no money, no phone, a grown adult that just crapped her pants. At that point rather than burst into tears which initially seemed the best thing to do, I started planning what rational steps needed to be taken to get me out of this literal mess.


The line went down a half flight of stairs, disappearing into the bathroom. I consoled myself realizing all the public restrooms we'd used so far in Rome had a sink in each toilet stall. So I would be able to take care of myself having a private sink. Everything would be OK, I'll be able to get through this. After calming myself down, I finally made the descent into the bathroom to turn and find, to my horror, that there were three stalls and the row of sinks where everyone was waiting in line. As I began screaming "NOOOO!" in my head, my bowels similarly reacted with another diarrhea attack.


I couldn't believe it. I was 21 years old and soiled myself a second time. By this time, I'd been in line a while, granted to me it seemed like the length of my childhood, and the people around me began to talk about me, obviously assuming I was foreign and didn't speak English. Also, I was really sick and shaking trying to hold back the forces of nature on two occasions--plus I'm sure I WREAKED. "She looks sick poor thing." "I can't believe whoever she's with would leave her by herself, she looks like she's going to cry any minute." At this point I started getting mad because they could see I was sick, yet they didn't offer me to get ahead in line.


By the time it was finally my turn, I ran into the stall, taking my shoes off and my jeans at the door. From there, a comparable bathroom scene from Dumb & Dumber ensued. Many minutes and a roll of toilet paper later, I was putting on my jeans when someone knocked at the door. "Are we using this stall? Is anyone in here?" At this point I had to reveal my english speaking abilities, and told them I'd be out in a minute. I was putting on my shoes and flushed the toilet--but nothing happened. Are you kidding me??? At that point I was so overwhelmed, I decided I wasn't going to try to fix it and just run away. I finished putting on my shoes, and didn't know what to do with my soiled underwear. There wasn't a garbage in the stall, so I used half a roll of toilet paper and wrapped them up and shoved them in my back pocket. As a last thought before leaving, I tried once again, and luckily the toilet flushed. I stepped out, avoiding any eye contact as I washed my hands...multiple times. A lady asked: "Are you OK?" I muttered "yes" as I ran the heck out of there.


I burst onto the street to see the line had grown down around the corner out of my sight. The massive crowd, encompassing people from all around the world stretched for blocks in both directions. Here I was, having had the worst experience of my adult life, standing in the middle of Rome lost with my dirty underwear in my back pocket. I started walking up the street looking for my husband amid all the tourists. It seemed like I walked a full mile with no sight of him or anyone that had been around us when I left the line. Just as I was near panic, I saw him two blocks up in line...I had been gone a long time.


At this point Rhett had been really worried and was debating leaving all the progress made in line to go find me. He turned as I came strolling up and jokingly said: "If you've been shopping all this time I'm going to be mad." I was outraged! "Shopping? Shopping? I was doing anything but shopping!" I blurted, pulling out the toilet paper glob housing my underwear and shoving it at him. All the sudden my situation needed no explanation. Rhett's eyes got big and, fighting back laughter, he put his arm around my waist and put the underwear in a plastic sack I'd packed in the backpack.

Here is the bar/ cafe where it all took place

Later that day he said: "Jess, it's OK. Lots of people crap their pants." I turned to him in shock at his "consolation". "Rhett. I'm 21 years old. I haven't crapped my pants since I was 3. It's not OK and not everyone craps their pants." At this, the laughter he'd been trying to hold in for hours busted out. I cracked a half smile...the embarrassment was still too fresh to be funny.

And I suppose it could have been worse. Luckily they weren't charging for use of the restrooms like most other restrooms. Luckily I wore jeans, and luckily I knew early in the trip to never drink milk again while in Europe.

Later in the trip I was talking to my Mom on the phone and the first thing she wanted to know was: "How was the Sistine Chapel?" "Mom, I crapped my pants." "It was that good?"
I then explained how it wasn't the best day of my life, and the chapel was good, but not the source of my uncontrolled defecation.

I apologize for everyone that will think this too gross and inappropriate...I tried to warn you by foreshadowing the inevitable. And maybe this will only be a temporary post if too many come forward wishing they'd not read the account. In the mean time, I've come to laugh at it and only hope those who've had similar traumas on vacation will know they're not the only ones.

Herschel in the Local News

Here's an article link to read about Herschel's involvement with his Goalball team. Utah is hosting the nationals this week. So far the Utah Men's Team is doing well.


www.deseretnews.com/article/1,5143,700236398,00.html?pg=1

Here's a link to Herschel's interview:
http://www.heraldextra.com/content/view/270948/140/

Movie Quote Clue

Here is the previous post for the quote:

Here is the clue:

Anyone know the movie? Book?

Boards, Anniversary, and Church History

Rhett is done taking his boards! We are so glad they are over, and the 6-week wait has begun to get the results.

Monday was our 4 year anniversary!

Time has flown. We've done a lot of fun things these four years we've been married. We've been blessed to have gone on some fun trips, the big ones being Hawaii and Italy. We were really excited to celebrate our 4th anniversary finally having a little one to celebrate with! We look back on our years as just a couple it was a great time in our marriage. We appreciate all the experiences, opportunities to grow together, and all the fun we had, and look forward to the years ahead as parents.

Thinking back to our wedding, it was one of the greatest days of my life. It was a completely stress free wedding, for me at least. Early in my adolescence my parents prepped their daughters that we would have a wedding budget and what we chose to do with that was our choice... their hidden wish that we would take the cash and spare them of planning and hosting a reception.which I did. So not having a reception put a lot of wedding stress out the window. It was awesome for me, I'm sure this wouldn't have been ideal for a lot of brides but we loved it. I did want a wedding dress, so my Mom slaved to make me my gown, and I wanted pictures outside the temple after our marriage, and if I had to do it all over again we'd get a different photographer. He was a college mate of my Dad's and what a freak...he was really flamboyant and we weren't too pleased with the results, but live and learn. I also may have done my hair different if I was married tomorrow, and one thing for sure...

I WOULD HAVE MY NAILS DONE!

Like I mentioned previously, I had zero stress with the whole wedding thing. I didn't really care about too much, I was so happy to be marrying Rhett I didn't think some things through...like the fact I have really unattractive nails. Anyone close to me has probably heard of my frog fingers, which means the ends of my fingers have these bulbs of fat that wrap up around my nail beds, suffocating my nails in flesh. Also, my nails are thin, flexible and peel easily. All my life I've been a nail biter. Wretched, I know. My Dad would tell me I need to stop biting my nails because they "look like weevils have gnawed them off". This nail history established, I think the idea of getting artificial nails for my wedding crossed my mind. But then I brushed the idea away because that was much higher maintenance than I was used to, I'd have to get them off before I started clinicals in the hospital the following month, money I didn't want to "waste" on something so temporary, and I knew having artificial nails would pretty much handicap me--like having fins for hands. So the fleeting idea of getting my nails done left my mind and I wish someone had talked some sense into me so I wouldn't have this awesome photo in our wedding album:

That is right. My nails were obviously so atrocious, the photographer FIRST, put Rhett's hand on top to showcase the rings. SECONDLY, cut off my fingertips completely. Isn't this the most awkward version of the cliche ring shot of all time??? I remember when he was taking this, it was awkward positioning our hands, and this just looks ridiculous thanks to me and my negligence. But somehow this shot suits me--awkward, unattractive, preventable--and the occasional browse through our wedding album always cracks us up when we come across this amazing gem. It looks like Satin Hands Crapo did marry that Kelly She-Troll.

I really do love my ring though...I wouldn't change that if I were married tomorrow. I would just have fake nails so you and the camera could handle viewing the distal end of my hand.

This weekend we also took the opportunity to go to the west Missouri church sites: Far West, Independence, Adom-ondi-ahman and Liberty Jail. The weather was nice and we had a good experience. Our favorite was liberty jail, which is the photo of the wax guys up above. Rhett had never been to the sites, and it was a great reminder for both of us of the sacrifice of the early members of our church, and increased our gratitude for them and all they endured. The other photo of the two Rhetts is Adam-ondi-ahman.

Baby Announcement

Almost There

Rhett takes his board exams this weekend. Saturday he takes the D.O. board exam, and Monday he takes the M.D. exam. These cover the first two years of med-school, basically all the academic portion. Each exam takes 8 hours to complete...or I should say you are given 8 hours, hopefully you complete it. We are all looking forward to getting these over with.

Rhett has been studying from the moment he wakes up until he goes to bed...and sometimes the books end up in bed with him as he's fallen asleep with them.

He chooses to study at home, which I like otherwise I'd never see him. He has always needed some background distractions when he studies, and his favorite method is to have the TV on. We cancelled our cable when we moved months ago, and we don't get reception for the local stations...so his only option is to watch movies.

Unfortunately we have a pathetic movie collection. In our four years of marriage, we have purchased 4 movies: Nacho Libre, Roman Holiday, Phantom of the Opera, and Zoolander. The rest have been gifts, and thus pretty limited.

Throughout the many months of studying in that red plaid chair, Rhett has watched all our movies multiple times. But with boards coming up, he doesn't have to go to class, so he rarely has a reason to leave the house and it is now odd to walk by and see the chair without Rhett in it. He only gets out of the chair to do one of three things: 1. use the restroom 2. eat 3. check the mail I guess a 4th: help me with the baby.

So these last three weeks, my routine is to take RJ to the library every morning to pick out dad 5 new movies...only 5 because that is the limit per card. I choose some movies I know he won't be too interested in, to help him by limiting temptation to actually watch, and obviously throw in some movies I'd like to watch since he monopolizes the TV...thus To Kill A Mockingbird was a recent selection. Rhett ended up watching more than he felt he should and said: "That was the first good black and white movie I've seen." So sometimes he has ended up liking the "duds" I've picked out for him. But not always...

But the library is closed on Monday so he had to resort to our own selection. I went to a friend's house and asked if I could borrow a stack of movies and explained my situation having to feed the film craze. I told Katherine: "He's probably home watching Little Women right now as a last resort." Thankfully I took a huge stack of DVDs to borrow and walked into our house to hear the theme song of Little Women. So ironic...needless to say Rhett was grateful for the new stack.

As I was leaving later that night, he was loading a DVD and I asked which one, he responded: "13 Going On 30" I thought that was weird, I'd picked that one for me, but it might be funnier than Little Women at least. I got everything together, and as I was loading RJ in the car, it was the scene where she has the change into a 30-year-old. Rhett exclaimed: "Oh no...is this a magic show? What is this? The chick version of Big?" I laughed and left. Later I asked him how he liked it.... "Ended up not being like Big, but still not very good."

Just now, he grabbed Bye Bye Birdie out of the sack, 10 minutes into it he just yelled into the office: "Jess! What is this crap?" I responded: "It's a musical...thus the singing and dancing." Shortly after I heard the music of Indiana Jones.

Rhett will be relieved when these exams are done, as will myself and our plaid red chair I'm sure...and our DVD player that has been on the marathon of its life. But he has had the chance to half-watch some movies these last few weeks he probably wouldn't have watched otherwise

I actually have no idea how he studies while he half watches movies. I need complete silence. But whatever works for him. He says he feels like he's wasting time if he just sits and studies in silence ALL DAY LONG. This way, not only did he study all day, but he also watched 8 movies. So Mr. Productive. I suggested he explore the option of studying while he folds laundry...he hasn't tried that method out yet.

Is Gluttony A Sin?

Rhett and I are on our way to becoming "the fat family". He's always talked about how he wanted to be the fat family...you know, the family in the neighborhood where all the kids are obese and everyone just wears elastic-ankle sweat pants? Well we are on our way there unless I change our diets.

For some reason the last couple of days, I've made crap. Last night we had grilled hot dogs for dinner. Our local grocery store has a grill out front and the crispy hot dogs smelled really good. Tonight I made homemade mac-n-cheese. And to top it off, amazing Katherine's Lemon Drop Cookies. Now these are worth being the fat family, so click here for her recipe and it would do you well to check out her other recipes if you like good food. Lemon zest, chunks of lemon drop candies, and a lemon glaze make these cookies irrisistable. It makes a ton, which Rhett and I would eat ourselves, so I only make half of the recipe. The only ingredient that doesn't halve evenly are the eggs, I just use one extra-large egg in place of the 3 eggs called for. Also, you do need to bake them on parchment paper, the candy melts and will stick right to your pan. I also keep the lemon glaze you brush on the cookies pretty thin. My favorite part about making these cookies is pulverizing the lemon drop candies in the food processor...I don't know why that is fun to me. I also made them extra small, thinking I would eat less since they would be smaller...BAD IDEA. What has happened they are unintentionally "bite-size" so I pop one...or two...or three...in my mouth each time I pass through the kitchen.

So hopefully tomorrow I'll be better and refrain from cooking a three-year-old's dream diet for the two eating adults in our family.

Counting Down...it is bittersweet

My grandma sent me this postcard. I thought it was a hilarious perspective of Missouri moving skills.

We have 5 Sundays left living in Missouri before we move home.

I am dreading the moving process, but we are used to it, having moved every year of our marriage.

I am dreading leaving all the good friends I've made in Kirksville. We've grown very close being in the same situations as struggling med student families away from family. The majority of the major holidays these past few years were spent here with our friends, Easter, Thanksgiving, etc. since we were only able to go home 3 occasions in the two years. So I will definitely miss many of these awesome women and it will be hard to say goodbye and know we most likely will see them in 2010 at graduation but other than that, never again potentially.

I am dreading some aspects of moving back to Utah...I think anyone who's lived in Utah county knows what I'm talking about.

I am excited to be done with the Midwest climate...back to the desert where the bugs are scarce, the heat is dry and there are mountains all around.

I am excited to be close to family. We have grown a lot being away from both of our families these last two years, but we are so grateful we have the opportunity to live among them or at least closer to them for two years before we will most likely move again for residency and probably settle down in a different state.

I am excited my family will be able to enjoy our son for the first two years of his life rather than living off the blog and webcam (which are awesome).

I am excited to be close to civilization, stores other than Wal-Mart will be great. I have learned to appreciate suburbia.

I am excited to start the second half of med-school which most wives say is easier than the first two.

I am excited to just have the feeling of being "home" for the next two years.

It's been a great experience for us to live 1200 miles from any of our family. We've grown closer and I think it is beneficial for anyone to have time early in their marriage to grow and solidify as an independent family...but man I'm glad to have at least two years back near family before we move far away again.

Nauvoo, Illinois

There was a church meeting 2 hours away in Nauvoo, Illinois for our stake. I rode with some friends. The meeting was pretty good, lunch was not so good. After, they were continuing on to the Nauvoo temple so RJ and I had some time to kill. We walked around, but it was hot so we stopped in a little grocery store called Ducks. This was taped to the door of the ice cream.

I guess all the tourist Mormon families visiting for the summer assume since they only have 6 kids they only need to buy half of the box of drumstick ice cream cones? I thought it was pretty funny. But sometimes I find really lame things funny. Also, how many times does this have to happen to warrant a sign on the door?

Movie Quote

Taking an idea from my friend, Rebecca, to put up a movie quote and see who is the first to guess. Rebecca usually give the genre, but here's mine:
"Well, judging from his tracks, he's 6 1/2 feet tall. He eats raw squirrels and all the cats he can catch. There's a long jagged scar that runs all the way across his face...his teeth are yell'a and rotten, his eyes are popped, and he drools most of the time."
Do you recognize it? It's from one of my favorite movies. Lynette can't participate.