Truth Tuesday

• BWell and I find ourselves doing random things on any given Saturday (or try any given day for that matter). For instance, sometimes we go to the Willow Park Zoo and learn about wolves. And sometimes it's all families there, bringing their kids out to the zoo to learn something new, but Brian and I don't really care. And sometimes I stand in line with all the ten year olds so I can take a picture with the wolf dog too. Yeah, that's all a true story. I even have the above picture as proof. While standing in line, a seven year old boy approached me and awkwardly asked me, "Uh, are you standing in this line to pet the wolf?" I defensively answered yes and shot down all his hopes of butting in front of me. And this, my friends, is why you can't plan on Brian and I having children for another five years at least. 

• I watched "Hell's Kitchen" for the first time last week. All I can say is there went an hour of my life I'll never get back. Also, I had no idea that cooks had such dirty mouths. And growing up, my mom didn't want me hanging around my dad's tire shop for fear I would hear naughty things. I think the kitchen has got the shop beat. 

• Does anyone else find themselves accidentally dancing while in the grocery store? The most catchy songs are always playing over the speakers, and I guess there's just something about pushing a cart and gathering eggs that makes me wanna move it. We're not talking Sara Bareilles style here. I will usually just start walking to the beat and possibly sway my shoulders a little. 

• I accidentally walked in the men's bathroom at church on Sunday. All my primary kids watched. That means I'll never live it down. They say an elephant never forgets. Actually, a ten year old never forgets. 

• We saw "42" last weekend. If you haven't been yet, you must go! The clothes are amazing and Harrison Ford is looking quite dapper. Brian and I both decided we somehow were placed in the wrong time period. We should have lived in the 40's/50's.

• Every time you follow me on Bloglovin', an angel gets his wings. Okay, not really. That's just a quote I stole from "It's A Wonderful Life". But you should still follow me there, because I'd be happy and stuff.  

Truth Tuesday

• I do not want to take my Halloween decorations down after tomorrow. The only thing that will maybe motivate me to do so, is the thought of soon putting up Christmas decor. I guess I could trade my skulls and crows in for tinsel and twinkle lights. 

• So BWell not only surprised me with this scarf last week, but he also surprised me with Taylor Swift's new album, Red. Needless to say, we've been listening to it nonstop and I think we both love it. I've had this song on constant repeat. It's my new fave. I mean, if you go ahead and combine Taylor with a little Snow Patrol, how can you really go wrong? You can't. My second favorite song on her new cd is this one. Like whoa, who knew Taylor could drop the beat? K, I'm done with my Taylor obsession for now. 

• What's up with Halloween haters? I have heard so many comments pertaining to Halloween where people say something along the lines of it being a devil holiday and they don't want to invite Satan into their lives. Well, I think these people need to chill out a little and realize that Satan might just enter our lives on the other 364 days of the year too. And in probably much more subtle ways. I say eat some candy corn and scare a kid or two. I love Halloween. I'm not ashamed. 

• I'm dressing up like an owl for class today. We are putting on our Halloween show and we are all supposed to dress up! Fun, right? Hopefully everyone will just be able to tell what I am. I should have gone with something more basic. Like a clown or a cat. Oh well, I like originality. 

• My hair now fits in a ponytail! It's a sorry excuse for a ponytail which I wouldn't wear out in public. . .but all the same, it fits in a ponytail! I'm just amazed I haven't chopped it off again. Still "growin" strong. 

• Our primary kids prank called Brian's office yesterday. Which I find incredibly awesome. However, it's time for vengeance. So if you have any grand prank ideas, I invite you to comment below. We already have a few tricks up our sleeve, but we would love to add to our wondrous web of brainstorming. Thanks. I appreciate you.    

Animal Crackers in My Soup

My posting has been a bit random lately. The last week of my life has been on the hectic side as I've been working on several freelance projects for a local news station. My footage actually ran last night on the 6:30 news. My poor husband, I was having a giggling fit during the entire block of it and kept pointing at the screen and shouting, "Look Brian, that's my footage!" Except I think he was just as excited as me, so it was fine.

In between some of my crazy projects and toting a tripod with me everywhere I go, I found some time to escape to SLC with my siblings, mom, and grandma. A miniature stay-cation if you will. The first day we went to the zoo. The second day we went to City Creek and shopped til we dropped (quite literally). My grandma outshopped us all. City Creek is just as beautiful as they all say and I made some purchases I'm quite happy with. It's always fun to go to new places and try new things.

And then, sometimes, it's fun to try old things too. Like going to the zoo. The nostalgia of it all was just magical. Or maybe it wasn't really magical at all, maybe I was just experiencing heat stroke since we were strolling about in 108 degree weather! I felt like a child again as I ran to and fro to peer through glass panes and cages at monkeys, tigers, and elephants. I'm glad I still have moments in my life when I can feel like a child. It's a nice reminder that I'm not completely grownup yet. And I pray that day never comes. .

I always love seeing the giraffes. They are one of my favorites. But I'd have to say that my very favorite animal during this trip to the zoo was the polar bear. She was a little showoff and kept swimming underwater up to the glass and then she would shoot out of the water and push her nose up next to us. Adorable. If bears weren't ferocious I would want one as a pet.

And seeing the gorillas at the Hogle Zoo is always a must, and we can't forget the picture op at the "Do You Measure Up?" wall. The day they take that wall down is the day my heart breaks. I have so many pictures there as a little girl.

When I was little, I wanted to be a zookeeper. Sometimes I feel like that dream is still alive. But then I think about all the feeding and cleaning up poop and decide just visiting the zoo will be okay. 
Until next time, wild zoo creatures!

What is your favorite animal to visit at the zoo? 

Roller Coasters & Fanny Packs

On Wednesday, my mother so kindly invited me to Lagoon Amusement Park with her and the rest of my siblings. I so graciously accepted. Brian, sadly, had to work.

If you don't really know me, one thing you should know is that I am a sucker for amusement parks. Even the sketchy ones that come to town during fair time (actually, I especially love those ones). Something about amusement parks just instantly brings the kid out in me. Lagoon is no different. I got to feel like a kid all day long!

Luckily, the park wasn't very busy either. So that meant short lines. We went on the swings three times. And oh boy, I love the whoosh that one puts into my tummy.

Besides going on all our favorite rides more than a couple times, we also watched my sisters waste their money on arcade games.

Except Chloe shut me up from making fun of her after she miraculously won something. . . .

And then let's not forget the infamous fanny pack which I sported all day. As much of a fashion crime as it may be, it was a wise decision. I safely stored away several cell phones and wallets in that puppy. Plus, on most of the rides you couldn't take bags on, the workers failed to notice the fanny pack. Score! Not to mention this girl got the most drenched on Rattle Snake Rapids but everything kept in the fanny pack stayed perfectly dry.

And then we went on the skyride. That was a fun experience. My mom and sisters went in front of me and Jace, so everyone they passed going the other direction, Lexi would tell them it was our birthday. We were quite confused when strangers started saying, "Hey, happy birthday!" We started to just accept it. And all the teenage girls we passed hit on my brother. He accepted that too.

But I think my favorite part of the day was when I took my baby sister, Chloe, on the ride that goes around and around and you squish each other (does that ride have a name?). You see, Chloe was afraid of all the roller coasters that the rest of us were so anxious to go on. So most of the morning, she spent sitting on benches, holding my mom's bag for her while we went on all the "scary rides". She was a good sport. But then the fam started going on another roller coaster after going on about four in a row and Chlo looked a little sad. But she faithfully went and sat on her bench. It kind of tugged at my heartstrings a bit so I went over to her and pointed at the ride which conveniently dwelt next to the roller coaster. I told her to go on that one with me. After she made me assure her it wasn't scary, we went and hopped in line. Needless to say, Chloe loved that ride. She squished me the entire time, but it was worth it to hear her silly giggle throughout the whole span of our turn. She liked it so much that afterwards, she insisted that my mom and Lexi went on it with her. So they did, and Jace and I were left to guard my mom's bag. 

Amusement parks are fun. They are germ infested, dirty places full of quite interesting people with rather poor hygiene, but they are still a bit magical. They bring out the kid in me and the nostalgia of past summers. I love them. Even if they force me into wearing a fanny pack. 

The House on the Corner

source

When I was small and had an imagination bigger than life, I used to peak through our fence and across our pasture at the huge house that sat perfectly on the corner of the block. I loved that house. I imagined it had millions of rooms inside. A large balcony wrapped its way around the entire house and tall bushy trees also stood guard around the yard. I always daydreamed about that house. But something I loved more than the house itself was the lady who lived there.

My friend told me the lady was once a model. I don't know if that was really true, but I believed her any ways. I figured she could have been a model because the lady was the most magnificent thing I'd ever seen. During church, I would turn around in our pew and just stare at her where she sat a few pews back. She was very tall. At least she seemed very tall when I was oh so tiny. She was slender and wore classy dresses, and often times had a colorful scarf tied neatly around her neck. Even though she was an older lady (maybe she was in her fifties or sixties, I'm not sure, when you're a kid adults are all just adults) she still wore her dark hair long, and she would wrap it all up around her head. It looked perfect. She left me in complete awe every time I saw her. I told my parents that when I got old enough, I wanted to be her maid and clean the millions of rooms inside her big, pretty house.

My parents were quite amused by this, and they even let me ride my bike to the house once. When I pulled my bike up to their driveway, I just stood and stared for several minutes, trying to work up some courage. I then walked to the burrow pit and picked a handful of dandelions to present when the door was answered. I remember knocking on the door and feeling my heart pound through my body with pure excitement. When the door was answered, I presented my bouquet of weeds and was invited inside the mysterious mansion. My jaw dropped wide open as I looked around at the high ceilings, winding staircase, Persian rugs, and the huge head of a moose that hung from the mantle. Before I left, I was given an Idaho Spud. It was my first time having an Idaho Spud, so I thought they must be some special treat that only rich people could get. I told my mom so and she let me believe it, until I saw the stacks of Idaho Spuds in the grocery store's candy aisle months later.

Last weekend, my mom called and told me the lady passed away. I felt strange. It's not like I had a real relationship with this lady (no, I never ended up becoming her maid), but I guess it was just unsettling to me for a moment that people die. Someone involved in one of my childhood memories is gone from the world, so I guess it truly is nothing but a memory now. And it makes me a little solemn, thinking that one day, everything will just be a memory. One day these college days that I complain so often about will just be a memory. The times of being a newlywed with my pal will become a memory. Things that have not even happened yet will all become fond memories. Things that once were so real and vivid will all be stories to tell and moments to reminisce about. And I guess that's just a hard thing to wrap my mind around.

Perhaps one day I'll be in the neighborhood and take a drive around the block and past that home I adored so much. Maybe I'll even leave a bouquet of dandelions on the doorstep. Heck, I'll even buy an Idaho Spud after.

Puke

As a child, I must have had plenty of worst nightmares.

Like my friends finding out what boy I had a crush on. Or like falling off the monkey bars and cracking my head open. Or my dog dying. Or my mom not being home when I got off the school bus.

But probably my worst of the worst nightmares I had as a child was puking in public. Or just puking at all. Back in the day, when I was about four feet tall, I took ballet lessons. After one of my ballet recitals, my family and I stopped by Taco Time since it was late and we were starving. Later that night, I remember waking up and feeling completely sick to my tummy. In a half sleepy daze, I attempted to scurry down the ladder from the top of my bunk bed, where my brother Jace was sleeping peacefully in the bottom bunk. I then blindly wandered through the darkness and down the hallway toward the bathroom. I was determined to make it to the toilet. Well, my stomach beat my determination and I puked all over the wall. It's a scarring moment which I'll probably have engraved in my brain forever.

Luckily, that was my very worst experience throwing up. I remember watching many a kid chuck up on the school bus, leaving the rest of the kids to suffer through the rest of the ride with the putrid smell of throw up reeking through the vehicle. I couldn't help but always feel terrified for the thrower-upper. What a horrible and degrading experience; to be the kid who threw up on the bus.

Last Sunday, I had the not so great experience to deal with some puke. So I serve in the Primary at my church now and have been for a couple months now. I teach the four-year-old children, and let me tell you, it's a jolly good time. While sitting and enjoying singing time last Sunday, one of the girls in my class was acting odd. She is usually the type to be very animated and dramatic and very involved in everything going on. She wasn't acting so on this day. On this day, she was slumping over in her chair, sprawling out on the floor and making small whining noises. She then informed me and my partner teacher that her tummy hurt. So we took her to her dad. He soon brought her back and informed us that she was just being dramatic and was fine.

Well, he was wrong. Real wrong.

About ten minutes later, the girl came up to me and said, "Teacher, I still don't feel so good." So I rubbed her back and told her I'd take her to the bathroom. Promptly after telling her this, puke suddenly escaped her mouth. I jumped back and watched the throw up land on the ground where my shoes had just been. With that, I grabbed her arm and drug her into the hallway and in the direction of the ladies' room.

We never made it. She threw up two more times. I'm pretty sure she had peaches for breakfast.

Her parents came pretty soon after and began cleaning up her puke. In the meantime, I sat on the couch and rubbed the girl's back and wiped off her face. When I asked her if she was alright, she sadly replied with, "My dress is dirty," and she pointed to the spot on her dress where some puke must have dribbled.

Puke is bad. And watching a kid puke is just heartbreaking.

I don't plan on having kids for a while.

Because I'm Kinda Vain

So it's the month of May. My two summer jobs do not start until June. I'm living at home for a while. Which leaves me usually hanging out with Mom during the day. This morning before going on a three mile run with my mom and her two lovely friends, she said to me,

"Kelsey, I'll pay you if you go teach PE at the grade school for me."

I sat on the couch staring at the television screen for several minutes (Will Smith kept me entertained this morning with a little bit of Fresh Prince) asking myself what I would rather do instead of let children attack me but then afterward get cash for it. In the several minutes I spent debating, I couldn't seem to think of anything else I needed to be doing that afternoon.

"Fine, I'll do it."

Hours passed and I found myself out at the school. Ready to teach PE. Weird. As I set up the balls for dodge ball, I thought back on my glory days of grade school PE.
I was a competitive child. I still am competitive, I just know how to control it better. In grade school my competitive side maybe came across as mean at times. I still remember the time we beat the boys in 5th grade kickball. They all cried. And I rubbed it in their crying faces that they had just been beat by girls. When we played car lot, it wasn't uncommon for me to make up my own car so that I would never run the risk of getting out. If you aren't familiar with the game of car lot, I'm sorry, I don't want to take the time to explain the rules to you. It's really a pointless game anyways. And dodge ball was my favorite. I was fearless when playing dodge ball. And I'm just positive that I must have thought I was much cooler than I actually was. The boys on my team at least passed me the balls after they were already out. A sure sign of respect. If you haven't already gathered the fact from this paragraph, let me just clarify:

I was a bit of a tomboy in my later grade school days.

I am glad I was this way. It limited the amount of girl drama, made me learn how to relate with the opposite sex, and stopped me from growing up too fast. I mean, I am still trying to learn the correct way to apply eyeliner. Up until a couple months ago, I had never used girly face wash to wash my face. I used a bar of Irish soap.

But back to teaching PE. . .

I was basically appalled with the sight of the first grade girls. They were lacking in the athletic department. Most of them didn't even try. A couple girls came and hung on my arm and asked for piggy back rides. I told them to go get someone out in dodge ball instead, to prove to me they deserved a piggy back ride. I had replies such as they were bored, hated the game, wanted to talk instead, etc. Most of the girls would not participate. At all. I was frustrated. I wanted to wave my fist and say,
"Come on ladies! Where is your self-respect? Show the men that you are equals with them! Get them out!"
One girl that actually was playing (she was instantly my favorite of the class) had a ball torn out of her hands by a boy. You can bet I put that kid in his place though.

Any ways, I was quite let down by the girls in PE as the day went on. They were all very lazy and girly. I saw a huge future squad of cheerleaders. Not that cheerleaders are bad. Or lazy. I'm just saying diversity is a good thing. We need some girly girls and some tomboys to make this world spin round, ya know?

At last, the 2nd grade class filed into the gym. A little person suddenly jumped on my back and let out what sounded like a war cry of some kind. Sure enough, it was my little sister Chloe. After everyone discovered I was Chloe's big sister, my popularity sky rocketed.

As the dodge balling began, I grew nervous that the girls might disappoint me again. Some of them did. A group of them sat in a circle and played clap clap games or something of the ridiculous sort. There were a couple that were twirling around in circles, which is cool I guess. But my baby sister, Chlo Jo, made me very proud. She was getting right in there with the boys. She tried dodging as best she could as well. She is not the most coordinated creature so she tripped and fell down several times. She's a bit of a class clown. The boys that were out even passed her some of the balls.
"CHLOE," they would yell and toss her a ball while encouraging her to throw it at a certain person on the other team.
Chloe even went as far as going over to the circle of girls who were holding dodge balls pretending they were babies (who does that?) and telling them she needed the fake babies to throw at the opponent.
I was beaming at my tomboy sister. I have raised her well. Okay, my mom has. But I was twelve when she was born, which made me old enough to help my mom out lots. So I have a motherly instinct or two for the girl.
Then there is my other sister, Alexis. She's older than Chloe. A few months shy of being a teenager actually. She is an aggressive kid. She isn't exactly a tomboy but very competitive. You should see her dribble a basketball. And she will run over hurdles like it's no body's business. She is not even afraid of them.

Basically, I am just proud of my little sisters. They will probably be bigger athletes than I ever was. And I'm glad that they aren't already wearing makeup like some little girls.      

Weekend With The Babes

It must be spring. Every day is filled with rain, I want to wear sandals despite the rain and mud, and there are sweet babies every where I turn.

On Saturday I FINALLY got my chance to go to Baby Animal Days. Brian was nice enough to take me. Also, the rain clouds were courteous enough to part for the couple of hours that we went. I am totally obsessed with baby animals. It is almost pathetic. I am fairly sure in the time we were there, Brian and I were the only couple that were not pushing a stroller and taking pictures of our children as they mauled terrified baby chicks. Although Brian and I were childless, it all worked out since I almost felt like I was Brian's small child. Yep, he basically played mom to me for the afternoon. What a great guy. So while parents steered their children clear of mud puddles and took their pictures with the farm animals, Brian took pictures of me with the animals. As seen below. . .

I am sure I had parents that wanted to whack me in the head since I was hogging their childrens' animal cuddling time. I behaved myself though. I only pushed a couple kids out of my way.

Brian and I held bunnies for probably a half hour. I just couldn't part with my fluffy, floppy-eared friend. I tried finding an excuse to buy one, but Brian then reminded me that we are getting a dog after we get married. So I guess I can be patient.

I wanted to take them both home. . . :)

I also enjoyed the company of more baby animals on Sunday. I went home to visit the fam and our mama cat had kittens!

After visiting the fam and the baby kittens, I went to visit my friend Shannon and her newborn baby. No pictures were taken, but he is seriously adorable! Totally has his mom's looks, that's for sure. He also has a good sense of humor since he peed on me while I was holding him. I was just acting all googly-eyed over him and I suddenly felt something in my lap. Something very warm and very wet. Congrats Shannon! I can't believe she's a mommy now.

Oh, I also finally met Grandpa Steve's new baby. . .

Isn't she precious?

Simple Days

I remember back when I was just a little girl (back when I was still an only child) and we would go on Sunday drives. In those days, our Sunday drives consisted of me, my mom, and my dad. Sometimes the pet dog would come along too. We would all load in the old pick-up truck and ride on a dusty dirt road that led up the mountain. I had a wild imagination as a child. I was convinced that Christopher Robin, Winnie the Pooh, and the rest of the gang lived up that canyon. So during the course of these Sunday drives, I made it our mission to spot their homes and maybe if we were real lucky, to find the actual characters as well.

Oh, how I miss those days on occasion. When the biggest thing on the agenda was to find Pooh Corner. Back before work, tests, cleaning, budgeting and time management were part of regular day thoughts and concerns.

I was a wise little girl too. Whenever I would get the often asked question of, "Kelsey, what do you want to be when you grow up?" I would answer. . .

I don't really want to grow up.

Jesus Wants Me for a Sunbeam.....

......so how come we can't just stay sunbeams forever?



This past weekend, I traveled from Logan, UT to my home in Weston, ID (such a long drive...) to stay with my family. All my wonderful roommates were gone, and I'm not very good at being alone for too long. It's not that I get scared or anything. I just go crazy. I need to have people around to bother I suppose. So I went home to let my family have the bothering. On Sunday, I went to my home ward and got lucky enough to teach the sunbeam class with my mom.

Oh, the life of a five year old! Sometimes I wish I could be five again. But when church is involved, I think I wish even more that I could be five again. You can get away with so much when you're only five. There were five kids in our class, but I swear there were more! Two boys and three girls.

Boy #1- The class clown. He was cute. And he knew he was cute. He would do silly things and then just give us that huge smile of his. How are you suppose to get upset with a cute kid wearing a huge smile? Seriously. He was the one who made random comments all during class, and threw his Book of Mormon around for amusement. He did volunteer to give the closing prayer though.

Boy #2- The follower. He was a pretty well-behaved little boy. He just kind of sat, listened, and smiled. But if you were to watch closely, you'd see he was just itching to stop his sitting, listening, and smiling.

Girl #1- Miss Smartypants. She was the one who gave most of the answers all throughout class. She also gave each answer with confidence. If she didn't answer the questions my mom asked, then we just didn't get an answer to any questions.

Girl #2- The reverent one. She was good. Almost too good for a five year old. She sat so politely in her little chair. Silent. If you asked her direct questions, she'd give answers, in a sweet, small, reverent voice. This is the girl that listens closely to her parents. Maybe even copies what they do. She has been taught: When you come to church, you act super good. Fold those arms and bow that head a little. At the end of class when we colored, she was the only one that didn't draw a bunch of scribbles. She very neatly and carefully made a rainbow. And at the top she wrote, "TO: MOM".

Girl #3- The clueless one. She had big brown eyes. So big and round. She also had red hair. You gotta look out for those red heads.... She instantly became attached to me. So I prepared myself for the lap-sitting and grabbing of boobs that was ahead of me. She was cute. She was in her own world. All during Singing Time, she would randomly stand up and wander around the room, while watching the ceiling. She didn't really like church. She kept trying to escape. She wanted to go home. She told me she wanted to go home and eat her cereal. She was the one who couldn't keep still. She walked around, sat on the floor, sat on me. Toward the end of the lesson, she couldn't take it anymore. She got on the floor and acted like a tiger. She growled and tried going after "the reverent one" but got no reaction. So she went after my mom's legs, growling like an animal. She got a reaction. My mom squealed, and for a moment, I thought she was going to stand on top of her chair to escape from the tiger child.

I've been thinking about it, and church would be much more amusing if we could all just act like sunbeams. If we could sit on the floor. If we could sit on each other. If I could lift my dress above my head. If we all got fruit snacks halfway through the lesson. But I know this would not be right. I think sometimes it's hard for me because I didn't get all my misbehaving out as a primary child. I was very much like Girl #2 (see above). Yep, I was the reverent one back in my day. Believe it or not. Then as time went on, and I reached the age of leaving primary and heading to young women, I turned into Girl #1. I thought I had all the answers. And I started giving them willingly. Now that I'm "grown up" and going to Relief Society, I have turned into Girl #3. I am the clueless one. I haven't gotten so bad that I act like a tiger yet, but I can't sit still through three hours of church anymore. When we get about halfway through sacrament meeting, Shayla (my dear friend and protector) will usually give me her car keys to play with. Yes, I really am 19 years old. I'm not nine. Or six. I'm 19.

Also, just a sidenote to all this church chatter, I really am LDS. In the past couple months, I can't tell you how many people at school I've had ask me if I'm not LDS. This had never happened before. So what's different? I'm the same person I was a year ago. I'd like to believe I'm actually a better person than I was a year ago. Then I realized what it was. My hair. Ever since I chopped it off and tried a "Rihanna style cut", the questions have came to me, "Are you LDS?" Yes. I am. Very much so. I just don't have normal hair. Sorry. And sometimes I dress weird. Sorry again. But maybe that's exciting that people wonder if I'm LDS or not. Maybe next time I'm asked I'll answer, "No. I've heard of it though. Tell me more."









Don't judge a book by its cover, my friends.




Or a girl by her hair.