My Best Friend's Ex-Boyfriend

Today my awesome neighbor, friend, running buddy, hair artist extraordinaire, brought over a tote of clothes she was going to send to DI (non-Utahans think: thrift store, Salvation Army.) She does this periodically when she goes through her wardrobe because she knows I am helpless when it comes to clothes, that I am pretty stingy when it comes to spending any kind of money on myself, and because she rocks. I found a few nice shirts and jeans to supplement my closet and will take the rest to DI. This neighbor has style and always looks cute and classy, so the clothes I get from her are unfailingly cute. Pluses all around. However, because I am neurotic, I feel like I need a mourning period before I put on the clothes and wear them as my own. Although I have never dated a best friend's ex-boyfriend before, I imagine this is what it feels like. For the first few times that I wear one of these articles of clothing and receive a compliment on it, I feel like I need to explain, "Yeah, I know it's super cute. It's my neighbor's. She didn't want it anymore and let me pick what I wanted before she donated the rest." Then after a I've had the clothes for a while, I don't need to explain anymore and they become mine. Is that weird? I have a few things she gave me last year that I haven't worn yet because the mourning period is not quite over yet. Yes, it sounds strange, but imagine you've just started dating your best friend's ex-boyfriend, and you may understand how I feel.

California 2011 - Part 1 (Vacation)

This last week the family drove out to California to have a little vacation and support Esther in the Ragnar relay. Here are a few pictures of the trip:

Ollie vs. The Curb

Ollie crashed on his Razor scooter, and got three stitches in his lip. The doctor blew up one of his gloves and drew a funny face to cheer him up. Ollie was so brave at the doctors office, he is one tough kid.

A Winter Wonderland

More climbing in the Wasatch mountain range:

Cascade mountain at 6AM - dark and sleepy on one side, light and waking on the other:



Looking west from the ridge:



Approaching the summit:



Sunrise on the surrounding ridges and mountains. Clouds covered the view shortly after these pictures:

A view from the west side.

This last weekend I climbed the west face of Timpanogos with some friends, above is a view from the ridge.

Here are a few shots from base camp:

Correspondance

Dearly Beloved Small Sons of Mine,

Please pee IN the toilet. Not around. Not even at, but IN the toilet.

Thanks.

Love, Mom

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Dear Mom,

Sorry, I still haven't gotten over the habit of breaking Legos apart with my teeth. I guess some things never change...

Love,

E

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Dear Husband,

You walked in the house today to find me entrenched in one of my OCD moments (i.e.: sorting all the tiny little Lego pieces by color.) Thank you for loving me anyway.

Love always,

E

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Dear Neil Patrick Harris,

I loved you as Doogie Howser. I haven't seen that show you're on, but after an afternoon of "Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog," I love you even more. And the best part is, my husband doesn't mind. (He is very patient with me and my gay crushes.)

Love,

E

The Sickies Have Arrived

A few weeks ago, the Sickies began circling...

O developed a mild cold which kept him home from church one Sunday and school for a few days. He shared it with H, who stayed home from church the next Sunday and spent a few days sniffling and coughing. I thought the Sickies were taking their leave. Foolish thought, that.

Last week J was in Idaho, working late nights and experiencing stress. Once home, he spent Saturday guiding people up Spanish Fork Peak, waiting in a freezing cold cloud 4 hours till all summited who wanted to summit, and finally returning home and to the great indoors 16 hours after he left it. That very morning, O woke with a fever and a tickly, chesty cough. He has since shared his fever with J. They have spent the past 3 days in bed, coughing, being chilled, being hot, and being miserable. H, S, and I are valiantly trying to stay healthy. H is doing well, and I am amazed that he is not sick at all. H and O's beds face each other and they naturally fall asleep with their bodies turned toward their brother. Every time I hear O wake up coughing in the middle of the night, I can just see in my mind's eye the germs flying out of his mouth straight into H's. So far nothing, but time will tell... S has an iron immune system. He doesn't get anything, or if he does, it's gone in a day. Amazing. I am in denial about the cough that is trying to settle in my throat and chest. However, the undue fatigue that is creeping up on me is harder to ignore. So it is, that at 11:18 AM on a Wednesday morning, J, O, H, and I are crowded in our bed like sardines, taking a nap, restlessly coughing, blogging, and playing "I Spy," respectively. Hopefully that will soon change to: taking a nap, taking a nap, taking a nap, and playing "I Spy." We'll see. I'm thinking the Sickies are having a little too much fun with this family and that it's time they leave.