No whining bonus

Josh called me today to tell me that Redbox is giving him (and the other employees in this market) a bonus for not whining about some new processes they've had to do.

For real. A bonus just because they haven't whined about the extra work.

We love Redbox.

It's like she knows me!

The Wii fit lady and  I have been friends for 5 days now, already she knows me better than my closest friends.

She says things like "looks like you were too busy to work out yesterday." to which I responded "well duh! It was Sunday! Do you want to know why Mormons don't exercise on Sunday?" She had no response. Maybe I'll sick the missionaries on her.

Then she shoots back "balance isn't your strength. Do you find yourself tripping over your feet often?" Because she knows me so well, I didn't even have to answer that one.

Next "Looks like Ace's (that's Josh's Wii name) birthday is coming up. Have you gone shopping for his present yet?" Let me tell you, I had a word to say about that. "What?! I've been TRYING! He's just so hard to buy for! Plus he drives me everywhere, and I'll never get to go shopping without him so it won't even be a surprise. What am I supposed to do? Do you have any better ideas?" Then Josh walked in to hear me yelling at the tv and we both wound up on the floor because we were laughing so hard.

I probably burn more calories laughing at the lady than I do playing the games, but hey, it's a good time.

People say such nice things at Christmas time.

Either that or I am much more willing to give people credit for being nice at Christmas time. I’m not exactly sure which it is. Either way, I just keep hanging up the phone, or walking away from a conversation thinking “what a nice thing for one person to say to another.”

In our Christmas card from our Egbert parents, Meleta wrote “we pray for you always”. I read it and just cried. It’s just a genuinely nice thing to say. What more needs to be said? It already includes, ‘you are important to us’, ‘we want the best for you’, ‘we’re thinking of you’, ‘we love you’, and bore their sweet testimony. This Christmas season, those 5 words meant the world to me.

One year ago today, Josh and I were moving into our house. 

Sometimes it feels like we've lived here as long as we've been married (which is like FOR.EV.ER.), and other times it feels like we just moved here. Some of my very favorite things about living here are: (in no particular order)

• Our open living area. The kitchen opens into the dining room/living room and I love that. Every single day of my life I love that and I'd never have it any other way. I'd show you a picture, but it looks like an enormous mess, and I'd have to kick Josh's half-naked self off the couch, plus pick my lazy self up off my butt to find my camera, and let's face it....that's too much work.
• Our ward. It is hands down the best ward I've ever been a part of in every possible way. We have fantastic neighbors (seriously, the shovel our driveway, take out the trash, tell us when we left our garage door open, and pay Josh for massages. Does it get any better?), friends, and leaders. What an enormous blessing!
• 2 sinks in our bathroom. Really. Best invention ever. I'm sure some guy was like "let's just put another sink right next to this one, whattya think guys?" and everybody said "What a stupid idea, what kind of person uses 2 sinks at the same time? You don't see people walking around with 2 phones up to their ear, or 2 computer screens. That's insane!" Well, I say God bless the insane man who thought of it. My life will never be the same.

• Food storage that belongs to us. OK this didn't come with the house, but because my fantastic husband loves me so much he made me shelves for more storage.  I kinda feel like we're doing a decent job on food storage. (Don't judge it based on the picture, there's more. Plus a lot of it comes in those ugly cans from the church, so I know it's the right thing to have in my food storage.) Sure we have a long way to go, but it eases the guilt to know I have a whole shelf in my laundry closet and a five gallon bucket of flour. That has seriously been my greatest wish since getting married. Don't ask why, just know that my husband loves me enough to be buy me stuff like 5 gallons of flour. The bet part is it's ours instead of the Griggs'.

• Walls that I can decorate! Not a big deal you say? Yes it is.
  
  
  What exactly do you prefer? This?

or this?

This?

or this?

Yeah, that's what I thought. Thank you for agreeing.

• A massage room. I kinda wished it could stay an office at first, but now that Josh is done with school, I fully understand how beautiful it is to have a massage room. *sigh*
• Vaulted ceilings.  Works wonders for a small room.

• My game closet. There are no words.

Lest you think our home is perfect, here is the list of things I hope we can change in the next year:

• Fix the ice dispenser in the fridge. For some reason that's one of those things that makes me feel rich. Our worked for the first few months we lived here, now it doesn't work and I feel poor. And thirsty.
• Paint our base boards. We intended to do that this year, but somehow the year got away from us. I just think the whole thing would be much more beautiful with white baseboards to show some contrast. In my dream world we'd paint all of the walls, but that's a big commitment for me and I'm not so sure I can decide something like that. Our walls are big and I'm a chicken.
• Find something to put on the wall in our bedroom. What I really want is some beautiful sconces and a big piece of art to go above the bed.....but again, I'm chicken and I can't find anything perfect.

That's it. The truth is I love living here and there are very few things I'd change. For Josh and I, right now in our lives, it really is perfect.

Body Worlds

OK if this is the first time hearing about the BodyWorlds exhibit I would like to know exactly which rock you've been hiding under. Please.

Josh and I were all excited about going when it first got here, but then we heard that there were more things that weren't here yet so we decided to wait a little while so we could see the full exhibit.

Then it was Thanksgiving.
Then it was Christmas.
Then it was yesterday

*Our Sunday School teacher, Brother Johnson, taught us the phrase "it's Friday, then it's Monday. Friday. Monday." today. It means time is going by quickly because you're so old. We're old, so "it's Thanksgiving, then it's Christmas. Thanksgiving. Christmas."

So we went last night.

When you buy tickets, you buy them for a certain time, we picked 7:00 PM, and then showed up half an hour early because we would rather get in earlier if we could. Ha! Little did we know!

The Leonardo (the museum that's hosting BodyWorlds) is very tricky. You come in the main entrance and a nice young woman asks you what time your tickets are for. When you answer, she sends you down the stairs to stand in a line. They pretend it matters what time your ticket is for when they send you down. But after standing in the line for a while, you realize you could've said "3AM" and they'd still send you to the same line. Also before you go down the stairs, you catch a glimpse of a much longer line upstairs and think "Geez! We picked the right time to get tickets for, that line is a lot longer than ours is gonna be." and if you're less righteous than I am, you think "ha ha! suckers! We got a shorter line than you!" but since I'm such a good person, I did not think any such thing.

Then you get downstairs. It's a long line and you start to think "hmmm.....this is a very long line. I'm sure glad we got here half an hour early so we wouldn't have to wait so long to get in."


You stand in the downstairs line for about 45 minutes. Then they let you upstairs (about 10 people at a time). You get to the top of the stairs, and guess what you see? Did you catch the foreshadowing? Yes. That's right. The incredibly long line from the front entrance before you went downstairs. You are now the "suckers" that the people going downstairs are laughing at. Fortunately you can laugh at them louder because you know you're in the last line of the night and they're just starting.

After another half hour in that line you're starting to think "I guess it's a good thing they broke this line into 2 parts, or we might not have stayed." Then at the end of that line, you get to advance...to the next line.

You think I'm joking right now, but I'm not. I'm dead serious. At least in line #3 there is a giant skeleton on the wall that you can text stuff to and it has a little word bubble will say whatever you text to it. That was entertaining. Until the 15th time Robby was hot. Then it was boring.

After that line, you advance to what you know will be the last line. Because as you go by they give you a booklet of paper and a tiny pencil to "take notes" or "write down your deep thoughts" on while you go through. That's how you know you're close. Plus at the end of that line, you can see a doorway. So you know you're there. You start to think "thank goodness, we've been in this line for 2 1/2 hours, and already paid $60. If I hadn't invested so much already, I would've left a long time ago and been mad that I didn't see this whole exhibit." At the end of this line, another young lady says "you're about to go in. Here are the rules: 1. don't eat or drink. 2. spit our your gum. 3. don't play with the dead people." I start to relax because now I know we're close.

Through the magical doorway.
Up the stairs.
And we're in!

Another line that is. Seriously.

After a grand total of 3 hours in line. We finally entered the actual exhibit which was incredible.

Worth 3 hours  in line and $60? Questionable. For Josh it was without a doubt. His face lit up like mine did the first time I went to the circus. He's the reason the lady had to tell us not to play with the dead people because it was all he could do to not reach out and pull apart their muscles and put them back together.

In case you haven't seen anything about this exhibit and didn't already google it to see some images, this is the kind of thing we saw.

These are actual people who have donated their bodies and turned plastic.

Of course not everything was a full body plastination, we saw lots of just body parts too.

Like this heart:

And this guy's blood in his face:

We had a really fantastic time, and I was truly amazed at all the stuff in the body.  Since it's a limited time thing, and probably a once-in-a-lifetime (in Utah) display, I highly recommend it. But don't wear heels. And don't plan on spending any less than 5 hours there. If you really look at everything it'll take you 2-3 hours just for the exhibit and it will blow your mind.

Goodbye Christmas

Christmas is gone now. Officially. We're done.



Josh was kind enough today to spend a few hours helping me take down Christmas. The lights are down, the tree is out in the snow by our front door, Fontanini is gone, and my living room is a big open space again.

We're hoping to have a birthday party (or 2) for Josh and we need all the space we can get. Plus it's nice to have all that work done before we both go back to "real work".

While we took it all down, I made Josh watch While You Were Sleeping with me. I didn't know it, but he's never seen it before, which in my mind is a tragedy.

I can't believe I brought classic movies into this marriage without knowing he'd never seen them! We have a lot of catching up to do chick flick wise.

Nate's wedding pics

Here are some of the snapshots I (Randy) got at my baby brother's wedding. It really was beautiful.

The happy couple.


Wendy hugging someone. Isn't she beautiful?



They're married!


I love this picture of them. So cute!

I loved the table decorations. Isn't that beautiful?

One thing I love about Redbox....

is they always give Josh a fantastic Christmas present.



One thing I love about this camcorder is that it's the size of an ipod and that little USB sticking out of the bottom? Yeah, that's all it needs. It's attached, built in, and won't get lost with all my other cords. Cute huh?

We like.

Christmas for Two

We spent Christmas morning all by ourselves this year. I don't mean to offend, but it was so nice to not worry about being anywhere, or doing anything!

Josh woke up at 5 something o' clock, awakened me with a sweet and gentle kiss (because he promised to stop jumping up and down on the bed before the sun comes up about a week into our marriage) and wanted to go open presents. We did. Because we can. Something cool about being a grown up is that you get to open your presents anytime you want. We could've opened them all at 2am if we wanted. (so there Santa!)

We opened our surprise presents to/from each other which was a big relief. Josh was surprised, and did like his gifts. I was surprised and did like my gifts. Whew! Stress over.

Then we went back to bed. That's called compromise. Josh is a morning person, I am not. So, we woke up at o'dark thirty for him. Then went back to bed for me. We're good at compromise. If you want us to teach you how to be happily married, we'd love to give you some pointers.

One good thing about not having kids is that we can open all the presents, leave the wrapping paper out and go back to bed not wondering if our children are going to kill themselves or each other with the wrapping paper and ribbon.

When we finally rolled our lazy butts out of bed (read: I finally stopped trying to make Josh sleep in with me) we got ready and started the family part of the day. There was more eating, more presents, more gaming, some music, and even a little bit of rock band (me and Lit, we're like this).

The drive back home from Daybreak to North Salt Lake took something like 2 hours (with a couple of stops on the way) because of all the snow. When we finally made it home, we couldn't resist going out to play.  I think this is going to be my favorite Christmas tradition. Now, if only we can figure out how to make the weather always cooperate....

Josh and I bundled up at about 10:00, and went out to play in the snow. We made snow angels. We went down the slide at our playground. We wandered around the neighborhood looking at lights. We flopped in the snow and listened to it falling our hoods. It was a beautiful night, and the snow was butt cold magical and romantic.

In short, it's kinda nice to have Christmas for two. Less stressful, less tiring, less planned, more romantic, more laid back, and this year, it was perfect for us.

Christmas Eve

On Christmas Eve we went to the Fugal house for party of the century. Every time the Fugal's are down from Washington we have a party of the decade, and when you combine it with Christmas you get party of the Century.


We ate, we sang, we opened gifts, we wrote poems, we watched the babies do a nativity (which was terribly cute) and read, and sang, and ate. You think I'm repeating myself, but that really is the order of how things happen. Have you seen My Big Fat Greek Wedding? I saw that and was immediately convinced that I'm part Greek.Or at least my family is.  'cause Greeks marry Greeks to breed more Greeks, to be loud breeding Greek eaters. Just substitute "mormons" or "Fugals" and you pretty much get the picture.


Anyway the night was fantastic. We were spoiled rotten and got more presents than we could ever need. And we're keeping all of them. 


It's funny because they were given to us and right now you're thinking "why wouldn't you keep all of them? It would be rude not to!" and I'm thinking "We got so much stuff, and so many people didn't get stuff, and it's kindof rude that I'm not sharing!" That just goes to show that I'm a better person than you are. It's OK we can still be friends. Plus you're right. Who really wants my 9x13 pan with "Egbert" engraved on it anyway? Me. That's who.


The best part of course that everybody was there. The Fugals from Washington were here for the wedding, and the new Fugals came home from honeymooning just in time for dinner. (Side note: the new phrase of the year comes from my mom. When giving Wendy (Nate's new wife) her first Fontanini, she said "Wendy Sue Hecker-Fugal may now open her present" or something like that. I told Wendy that I think she should change her name instead of hyphenating it because it sounds like a cuss-word. My baby brother's family is now officially the "Hecker-Fugal" family because we can't turn down a good excuse to say a cuss-word.)


When we left Lindon it was snowing, and all reports I've seen say it never stopped. By the time we hit Murray it was dry as a bone. No rain. No snow. No nothin'. Josh and I came home, finished wrapping presents and went to bed. No traditions. Nothing festive. Just boring us. I'm a little bummed about that.


I'd love to have some traditions of our own, but it seems like all the good ones involve EVERYBODY and the whole family (because it's really all about family) and require kids. Anybody have any Christmas traditions for two? You know when you go to Deseret Book and they have the "cooking for two" cookbook right next to the "cooking for small and large groups (each recipe serves 42 - 68 people)" and you always feel bad for the person who has to buy it because that must be a lonely life? We're that people. And if anybody wants to write a "How to celebrate Christmas for two" book, I'd buy that too.

I dreamt of a white christmas, and I got one!

OK the day after I wrote about being such a grinch  this year I changed my mind. Not that I hadn't already changed my mind of course because somebody did tell me all about having a good attitude. And I did read several blogs explaining the real meaning of Christmas. So, mostly my mind was already changed by the time I wrote that post, but there was just a little tiny part in the corner of my skull thinking "Christmas sucks, and even though I know why I should be happy and thankful, I'm still not loving this, and it makes me grouchy that I don't wanna tell anybody the truth."

Cue the snow.
Sweet, I just said that and got up to see if it's snowing outside and it is. I don't think I cued it, but it is snowing right now, and I said cue the snow, so maybe I'll take credit for this incredible storm.

Once it started to snow, I really did get happier. You know how some people have weather-related depression? I'm pretty sure I have snow-related happiness. I mean it, there's just something about snow, big, thick, heavy snow that makes me feel happy and safe (ironic isn't it?) and cozy and magical and happy (did I mention that already?) and Christmas-y.

I stopped feeling so bah-humbug about everything and actually enjoyed this week! Merry Christmas to me.

Nate's hitched.

The wedding oh the wedding!

My baby brother got married this weekend. Yep, that’s right, he got engaged like a month ago and everybody somehow pulled off a beautiful wedding.

The ceremony was fantastic, the bride was blushing (I’ve always wanted to say that….it’s a good thing right? Not like embarrassed or anything? I hope it means like beautiful, and glowing, and stunning, and all that good stuff…if not, that’s not what she was), the groom was handsomer than he’s ever been in his life (and he’s been pretty darn handsome before…), the food was exquisite, and the decorations were stunning.

Now it’s over. I can feel the big sigh of relief that my mom breathed.

It’s weird to me that he’s married. I freaked when he turned 18 because he was an adult then. But he was still in high school which kindof balanced out the “adultness” of being 18. Then I freaked when he moved out to go to college because that’s about as adult as it gets. Then I got married and figured that college kids were still immature (unlike my newly married and VERY mature self). Now he and I are on the same playing field. It’s a little weird to me.

Since we’re 3 years apart, I’ve always been a whole school ahead of him. He was in Elementary when I moved on to Jr. High, and Jr. High when I moved on to high school. We always got along, but he’s always been my kid brother.

He’s also the baby of the family and the last to get married which means no more weddings on my side of the family until Garret. I’ve got a good 10-12 years for that, which pretty much means this is my last “young person” wedding because let’s face it, in 10-12 years, I’m gonna be undeniably old. Probably wrinkly and pushing the whole gray hair thing. Frightening isn’t it?

I'll post the photos later.

New Building

There’s just something that makes me feel important about being in a new building. Maybe it’s the smell of fresh paint and carpet instead of dirty diapers and wet shoes. Maybe it’s the fact that there are still covers on the pedals for the piano. Maybe it’s because you can see the fuzz left over from the cut of the carpet against the walls or the un-stained upholstery in the chapel pews. Probably it’s all of those things combined that makes me excited to get to meet in a brand new building.

A Change of Heart

What I was going to post today (seriously, I already had it written, just not posted yet) was this:

Where is my Christmas Spirit?

Remember when you were a little kid and Christmas was all about fun, presents, a break from school (and life), playing in the enormous white mounds of snow, enjoying family parties, sugars, sweets, and hot chocolate and enjoying the best in everybody?

What happened to that?

Instead of playing in the snow, I’m bundling up and whining because it’s too scary to drive. I put on as many layers as possible (for the journey from my door to my driveway), and I haven’t even tried to catch a snow flake on my tongue this year. The only white mounds I've noticed are the growing piles of laundry to be washed.

Instead of taking a break from school and life I am working as much as possible to pay for stuff. I’m trying to catch up and prove to people that I’m reliable even in the middle of holidays. I’m over-booked and under-staffed and can't seem to stop myself from committing to things that I really can't make happen.

Instead of enjoying family parties, I’m grudgingly going. But only because I love my mother-in-law and Josh, and Christmas parties are what make them happy. I think there are entirely too many of them, and mostly I hang out with the same people at every one of them (Josh’s siblings) anyway.

Instead of being excited about surprising somebody with the perfect get, I’m running to the store on my way home from work and grabbing a gift card (because that’s more fun to use anyway) and calling it good. If you’re lucky you’ll get a homemade card out of me.

Instead of loving the bell ringer outside Walmart for the service he’s offering and singing jingle bells the whole way home, I want to knock that guy out and carry him around with the SLOSM but first I’ll take away his bell because he’s buggin’ me.

Instead of enjoying the sugars, sweets, and hot chocolate I’m doing a sugar fast and drinking raspberry tea to make my stupid broken female reproductive system work.

The truth is my baby brother is getting married tomorrow and it’s kinda freaking me out. My holiday season is (once again) childless and it breaks my heart. My driveway is covered in ice and my car shakes when I start it. My Christmas tree is beautifully decorated but not once have Josh and I sat in the love sac together staring at it and enjoying the glow from the lights. The presents are (mostly) purchased and wrapped, but none of them are surprises. We’ve bailed on more parties than I care to admit to, and haven’t done any neighbor gifts. The treats and snacks I've made may have been poisoned for all I know, and I haven’t watched any classic Christmas movies yet. The Christmas music we’ve been listening to since August has slowly made its way out of my CD player and I haven’t been ice skating in 2 years. We went to see the lights at Temple Square but took exactly 0 pictures and stayed for approximately 26.3 minutes. I know I'm not the busiest person alive, and I have no idea how those of you with kids do it. I really don't.

So what do I really want this Christmas? Peace. I want a whole day at home with my husband who I love. I want us to enjoy the things we love about this season together. I want to borrow somebody’s child (anybody? Anybody? Buhler?) and watch them open Christmas presents giggling over each new toy. I want to watch a Christmas movie while drinking hot chocolate and not feel guilty about the sugar or the waste of time. I want to wander temple square 2 nights in a row revisiting my favorite places the 2nd time. I want to lick the mixers while I’m making Christmas cookies. I want to take beautiful pictures of the snow covered trees. I want to snow-shoe up a huge mountain and enjoy the moonlight shining on the fresh blanket of snow. I want to shop with no financial or time restraints. I want to roll a snowball taller than my head. And I want to enjoy Christmas the right way! Why is that so hard?

After composing this terribly (honest) depressing blog. I read this post. Then this one. Then this and this. I decided that I am truly thankful for all that I have. The tears came (thank goodness I forgot to put on mascara this morning) and I made a conscious decision to stop feeling sorry for myself because I am truly blessed. "I have so much more than I don't have." 

The words I had planned to say in my lesson on Sunday (I'm never really sure of which words actually make it out of my mouth during those 30 minutes) keep coming back to me. When I don't understand or feel like I am forgotten, I can fall back on the things I really know. 

I know that this life is not the end and that the things that don't work out here absolutely will work out later. I know that even when it's hard, it's certainly not impossible. I know that with the love and support of those around me who are most important, I can do hard things and I know that I am loved beyond anything I can imagine.

Yes I still want peace for Christmas, no I'm not satisfied with the way I've spent this Christmas season. Yes I think that if our circumstances were slightly different (we had a baby) everything would be better (those of you who would give anything to a day off from kids for just one day, can laugh at me now). But more importantly, I know that it will be OK.

It’s funny that Josh smashed his head open because….

My sister Katy (who by the way is one of my very favorite people in the world) thinks it’s a good idea to explain why her jokes are funny. You catch her saying things like this all the time.

Katy: What goes tick-tock, woof-woof?
Innocent Victim: “I dunno, what?”
K:  “a watchdog ha ha ha ha ha!” (this is a very sincere hysterical laugh because she really thinks it’s funny.
IV: “ha….ha…..ha….” this is a courtesy laugh. Because nobody likes to hurt Katy’s feelings. She’s just too nice.
K: “See? It’s funny because ‘tick tock’ is the sound a watch makes, and ‘woof woof’ is the sound a dog makes. But the funniest part is that a watchdog is a real thing. Get it?”

Now you need to know that the explanation of the joke is usually funnier than the joke itself. Also you should know that Katy doesn’t really think the joke is funny, and she knows it’s funny to explain why it is funny. Now the whole thing is such a regular joke in our family that we just say “it’s funny because…” all the time. It’s guaranteed to get a laugh.

Yesterday Josh slipped on the ice from our faulty gutter line and smacked his head on the rockwork on the side of the house (think we should sue the homebuilder?). It gouged out a big chunk of the skin on his noggin and bled for a long time. He (being a manly man, and certainly not a sissy) picked himself up he came upstairs to show me his wound.

That’s funny because I JUST  finished explaining why I’m a sissy . And how I can’t handle blood. And that head wounds make me pass out. Get it? (“Spot the Irony” is another game we like to play at the Fugal household.)

When Josh walked in with his hand on his head, I looked at him and told him I was real sorry, but this is kindof his area of expertise and I didn’t really know what to do for him.  Eventually I called Meleta (it’s nice to have an ER nurse in the family. She’s so great!) who told us what to watch for and calmed me down (a little).

I spent the whole day asking Josh to see his pupils, and “checking” the back of his head since he couldn’t see it. By “checking” I mean: glancing at ‘The Wound’ for .002 miliseconds and spending the next 2 hours whining about how woozy I felt because of the sight of blood (which I clearly can’t handle).

You should know he’s fine. You can only sortof see the big crater in his head if you look (he was due for a haircut, so his shagginess is just perfect). He didn’t pass out, or get a concussion. He didn’t panic. He didn’t wanna go to the Dr. He didn’t whine. He just told me when he wanted more Tylenol (which for him is pretty drastic). My man is so tough!

I just like to know things:

I remembered this weekend that I am a better, more patient person when I know what’s going on around me. I need to be acknowledged and I need to know that whoever could potentially be inconveniencing me knows the severity of the situation.

For example: I need to know that Josh knows that he has to turn Left at the next light. Otherwise I tell him. He appreciates it, I know he does. Because every time I do it, he tells me so. “Thanks babe.” He says out loud. “I drive you to work every day of my life and I already knew that. But because I know you’re neurotic and I love you anyway, I won’t remind you of that.” He says in his head.

The ladies in the salad line in front of me had me ready to tear my hair out before I even got through the lettuce. There were like ump-teen Sweet Little Old Sister Missionaries in front of me. I was leaving late for lunch and totally forgot to tell Scott, who was covering for me, about the meetings that were going to happen in the next 15 minutes and the people invited to them; so, I was kindof in a hurry to grab my food and run back downstairs and hopefully beat the first set of meeting-goers.

The problem with being in a hurry when you’re standing behind an old person is that you start to hate the old person’s guts. It’s not their fault they’re slow, it’s just one of those things that happens when you get old. Like sagging, and rambling. Even though you know it’s not their fault, you still want to pick up all 92 pounds of them and carry them through the line because you know you could carry them, their salad plate, and your salad plate while loading both plates with the perfect proportion of salad bar ingredients faster than they can walk.

As I stood behind SLOSM (Sweet Little Old Sister Missionary) #4 watching her pick out the only 4 remaining pieces of romaine lettuce one at a time, (it’s OK that there were only 4 because she’s old. Eating like a bird is one of those things that happens to you when you get old. Like velcro Reeboks and purple hair) I started to fidget. I snapped my debit card between my fingers at the pace of about 1,976 snaps per piece of romaine lettuce.

After she moved on to the spinach section of the salad bar, she turned and reached for the other salad tongs like she was going in for another piece. Then she changed her mind and returned to her spinach. (Is this play by play of a SLOSM’s salad boring you? Imagine being in a hurry and watching it all happen in slow motion!) That’s when she looked up at me and said “Sorry dear. I’m so indecisive, I promise to hurry through the rest of the line so you don’t have to wait.”

Just like that my anxious debit card flipping ceased. I laughed with her and told her not to worry about it at all and assured her I had 45 minutes of lunch break, and could spend 44 of them in the line at the salad bar without being inconvenienced at all. It wasn’t entirely true, but it was how I truly felt about it because she already apologized. Something about knowing that she knows she's making me wait just makes me feel a lot better about the situation.

And that is why when my Relief Society lesson was only half over and we had just 2 minutes left until time to pray and get out (because we started late, not because I talk so much. Well, maybe because I talk so much, but we also started late…), I publicly asked the presidency how much time I had left. I already knew, but I wanted the class to know I knew so they wouldn’t start fidgeting for the last 2 minutes. It’s my subtle way of saying “I know we all wanna get out of here in the next 7 minutes, and I promise to do my part to make that happen, OK? Just don’t fidget during my testimony because it’s rude. And if we’re late, blame all 9 verses of A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief not me!"

On why I'm a sissy.

Some things gross me out. I’m weak. I’m queasy. All right, I’ll say it: I’m a sissy (and probably a codfish too, although I’ve never really understood what that means….) (I use a lot of parentheses....I blame ADD.... Does it bug you?)

I blog-stalk this hilarious person who I’ve never met before, (I found her on facebook and thought she was someone else, but she turned out to be totally hysterical and fun to blog-stalk anyway, so I’ve been proudly (secretly parentheses in the parentheses? Is that even legal outside of algebra?) blog-stalking her for more than a year now…that is another topic for another day) and she happens to live in Egypt (not the kind of blog you read to feel better about your normal life). She has this incredibly cool and very fascinating life and is always doing something exciting.  Today I happened to read this post and my stomach turned over after the first picture. I was very afraid of losing my lunch (which was really good today by the way. I love taco bar! OK now this is just ridiculous....), but I kept reading anyway.

Against my better judgment I read the whole post. Now I feel sick. I just can’t handle blood. Or needles.

Know what else grosses me out?

Fingernails. Josh loves me so he cuts his fingernails when I’m not home. I love him so I paint my toenails when he’s not home (He can’t handle the smell. But not because he’s a sissy (which he’s not, even if he did love Teddy Ruxpin. Aundrea told me Teddy Ruxpin is actually not that sissy-ish), but because he can’t breathe). I hate fingernails so much that I NEVER cut my nails. Luckily I have what I think are actually fairly attractive long nails, but I never cut them off, because the leftovers gross me out. When people cut their nails in public, I want to throw up on their faces.

Yicky-creepy-old-men. Seriously, if you’re cute like a grandpa and say “sweetie” or “honey” or “punkin” to me, that’s fine. But if you just think you’re cute like a grandpa but in fact you are a yicky-creepy-old-man, please just call me by my name. You gross me out. And don’t ever, EVER touch me. Ever.

Pens which have been chewed. ‘Nuff said.

Snot. Sometimes I feel like I’ll be an OK mom when the time comes. But one thing that assures me that I’ll be the mediocre-est mom ever to roam the face of the earth is my aversion to snot. I really can’t handle it. It makes me gag. Every time. I don’t care how cute the child underneath it is. Or how much I love them, I really puke a little in my mouth when I see it. Forget about touching it.

In spite of all the things that make me go “buuuuuhhh” (Ron White shudders), I’m a little brave about some things. Like paint fumes, toilets, and stuffed animal heads. So, I figure it all evens itself out. Right?!?!?!

Christmas Rules

Our Prep for Eternal Marriage teacher talked a lot about being from "the true family" and how a lot of times both people in a marriage think they are (from the true famly) and that puts a strain on things. So, Josh and I decided that rather than decide which one of us really was from the true family, we'd just make our own true family.  We're smart like that.


Here is how we do Christmas in the True-Egbert family.


1. Wrapping paper or gift bags? Wrapping paper. I never learned how to properly wrap a present until the year Jamie was homesick and we wrapped all of the empty light boxes (36 of them to be exactish) from the gazillion lights I put on our tree. We put those empty boxes under our over-lit tree. Filled the stockings with grocery sacks so they looked full and had the best decorated Christmas the Business College Dorms have ever seen. We were/are cool like that.

This year I wrapped all of the presents from Black Friday on the same day, and I'm REALLY trying to use up this Christmas Paper, so they are all the same. Hopefully next year I can introduce some variety.

2. Real tree or Artificial? This year: Real. A tradition that I really hope carries on forever and ever.

Please ignore the smith's bag and roll over cellophane on the floor. I was in a hurry to take the picture, and as a result...well it's not beautiful. Get over it.

3. When do you put up the tree? As soon as possible after Thanksgiving. Friday is consumed with shopping, Saturday is the Reilley party, hopefully it's up by Sunday anyway.

4. When do you take the tree down? "I CR-YYYYYYY the day that I take the tree down". OK that has to be the ugliest song on the Forgotten Carols and every time it comes on Josh and I put on our best ugly-opera-singer voices and try to out sing each other. Nobody wins in that game. 
Anyway, we take it down after Christmas when we get around to it. Again with all the family parties and stuff we hope it's down by New Years.
5. Do you like eggnog? No thank you. Josh will drink it diluted if someone offers it to him. I can't handle it.

6. Favorite gift received as a child? Amy: Light Bright they weren't as cool then (see the lower pictures for an 80's lite brite)  as they are now..... Josh: a bike. (hehe. did you click that link? Yeah, he answered Teddy Ruxpin first, then I told him it was going on the blog and he picked a bike instead. I guess Teddy Ruxpin isn't manly enough for "the public" to read. he he he. He doesn't know about the full disclosure rule on my blog.)

7. Hardest person to buy for? Egberts. All of them. They already own most things they want.

8. Easiest person to buy for? Toss up between Tato and Cami (Josh's younger siblings). Everything is cool to them, so even if you got them something lame (like a paperclip holder) they'd think it was AWESOME!! (yes with 2 exclamation points.)

9. Do you have a nativity scene? Yes. This is one of my all time favorite traditions. Every year my mom gives us another piece for our nativity and we open it on Christmas Eve. I figure by the time I die my Nativity will be too big to fit on the top of my grand piano in the "sitting room" of my mansion. I heart Fontanini.

10. Best Christmas gift you ever received? Josh: a lump of coal and an onion. He's not a very good kid most years and we already talked about the bike.... Amy: OK I know it's cheezy, but the year before we got engaged Josh got me a children's book that makes me cry every time I read it. He loves me and I love it.

11. Worst Christmas gift you ever received? Ummm....I'm going with that same book that was my best Christmas gift. But that's just because it wasn't an engagement ring. At Christmas time we had been dating for ever (read: 4 months) and had been ring shopping more than once. I really wanted to get married (everybody else was!) and Josh was just having a hard time asking me.....I wasn't feeling very patient. As for Josh? one year he only got the coal - he wasn't even good enough for an onion. (This is funny because Josh comes from a gift-giving family. And he's the angel child of his family. So really he never got any bad Christmas gifts at all. Ever.)

12. Favorite Christmas Movie (s)? The Grinch, Elf (I could watch that a million times a year), A Christmas Carol, of course A Christmas Story is classic.

13. When do you start shopping for Christmas? August. ish. The best part about December is that EVERYTHING we buy (with the exception of perishable food) gets wrapped and put under the tree. Everything. Razors, shampoo, deoderant, food storage, chapstick, shoes, clothes, books, movies, music, EVERYTHING.

14. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present? Yeah, I'm pretty sure I have. I figure that the gift was I didn't have to find a gift to give to _______. For me, that's a pretty good gift.

15. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas? Mmmm...everything. Probably my mom's broccoli cheese soup in her homemade breadbowls.

16. Lights on the tree? Yes. The more the better.

17. Favorite Christmas song? This year it's Josh Groban's Angel's We Have Heard On High. I also love Baby It's Cold Outside, and a million others. However, there are also 10 million Christmas songs I hate (Oh Holy Night being one of them...I'm a horrible person, I know I know!)

18. Travel at Christmas or stay home? Well, if you call the annual trek to Lindon/South Jordan/West Jordan travelling.....

19. Can you name all of Santa's reindeer's? Yes. but I almost always have to sing it to get it right.

20. Angel on the tree top or a star? We have an angel. I want a star. I silvery, sparkely, beautifully perfect star.

21. Open the presents Christmas Eve or morning? Christmas Morning. Except Fontanini and jammies.

22. Most annoying thing about this time of the year? Crowds and lines. I'm bad at crowds. I'm not patient. Or loving. And I HATE waiting in lines. And traffic. And parking. I hate Walmart between November 20th and January 14th. If I'm not good, that's how I'll spend eternity: folding archive boxes, in Walmart, on the Saturday before Christmas, while listening to Oh Holy Night. And being forced to spend the day with someone new every day. OK, maybe that's not what hell is like, but I'm going to be good just in case.

23. Favorite for Christmas dinner? We don't eat dinner on Christmas Day, just the soup thing on Christmas Eve.


24. Do you send Christmas cards? No. I think blogging all year makes me exempt, right? I'm pretty sure that's in the blogging handbook....

25. What do you want for Christmas this year? A Happy Family.

One thing I love about Josh

One thing I love about Josh is......

He’s a massage therapist. A real one. 

Our neighbor came over for a massage last night (Yes he does that professionally, yes out of our house, yes if you’re interested you should call him because he’s dang good and it’s close. Unless you live in Provo, then it isn't that close. But you could still call him if you want.) and as she was leaving she looked at me with her eyes half open (don’t you love the feeling of being half asleep when you walk away from a really good massage?) and said “you are one very lucky woman. David tries, but is no good at this. When you get pregnant, you’re gonna love it even more!”

It’s true. I am one lucky woman. And I know it. And I love that Josh is good at massage because it makes him happy, and it makes me REALLY happy. 

Current Favorite Phrases:

I go in phases of saying certain words or phrases. Josh probably thinks it’s annoying since he hears it all the time. In fact Aundrea probably does too, because she has to listen to me talk for like 8 hours a day….

Right now, the phrases that I find myself saying all the time are:

“Kiss me! I’m a princess.” This is because Josh kept getting mad at me for saying “I’m a frog” and puckering up for a kiss. He always responded “I don’t kiss frogs” so that didn’t last much more than a weekend. What can I say? I’m a sucker for that man’s lips. Too graphic for a public blog? Sorry about that… The princess bit seems to be a pretty good substitute.

“Beautiful!” (Fabulous, fantastic, lovely, and sweet are the words I try to use to mix it up, but they all sound exactly the same anyway.) The best thing about this word is that it can be sarcastic, like “oh, your toilet hasn’t flushed properly for the past 3 weeks? That’s just beautiful, isn’t it?” or meaningfully like “I love your blouse, it’s beautiful.”

(As a side note when I braved the shopping world on Friday, there was this cute little old man with a woman who must have been his daughter. They were standing behind a rack of clothes and he touched every shirt on the whole side saying “and this? And this? And this?” and the ever-patient daughter kept saying “it’s a blouse, it’s a blouse, it’s a blouse” and he’d repeat “BL-OUS-AH, BL-OUS-AH, BL-OUS-AH” before moving on to the next one. If it had happened later in the day I would have been annoyed because they were blocking the aisle with their big fat shopping cart, but it was early so instead I thought it was sweet. “BL-OUS-AH, BL-OUS-AH, BL-OUS-AH”) Blouse is an old lady word, but I use it anyway sometimes. Beautiful isn’t exactly the youngest/hippest word either, so I figure they match.

“Enjoy.” I like to think I say this meaningfully, but I’m afraid I say it so often that it’s no longer meaningful. Every time somebody walks out of this office and tells me where they’re going, I tell them to “enjoy”. Sometimes Mark laughs at me because he’s just told me he’s going to some incredibly long boring meeting, or a dentist appointment. Wouldn’t it be cool if I died and somebody walked up to Josh at my funeral and said “She told me to enjoy my boring meeting, and when I’d been there 2 ½ hours and was incredibly bored, I thought of her saying ‘enjoy’ and I changed my attitude and I did enjoy the rest of my meeting. Amy was a person who truly did enjoy her job and thought the rest of us should do the same.” Yeah. That would be cool. I think I’ll stick with “enjoy” for now.

“Ooooh….he/she is so cute. How old?” This is because everybody I know is having babies. Or they just had one. And every blasted one of those children really is so cute! I told my mom that if somebody I know would start having annoying, ugly, obnoxious children, this whole not having babies thing would be a whole lot easier on me. So far? Not happening. If anybody has pictures of ugly babies - that would really help me out right now….

Honorable Mention goes to the word “poinsettia” because I avoid it at all costs. It’s ugly, and almost as hard for me to say as “rural”.

One thing I love about... my mother-in-law

I'm starting a new series on the blog, I'm calling it the "one thing I love about..." series. I'm gonna like it. I suggest you do the same.

I have been blessed with incredible in-laws. Sure there are times that I look at my husband’s family and think “What happened here? What kind of people think it’s strange to use a spoon to dish up the jam?!?!” but for the most part, I love them. Every single one of them.

A Christmas (or two) ago Mom-Reilley made this adorable creature for me and I love it. See how cute it is? 

Yeah? Well it’s also a candy dish! I like cute things, and I especially like cute things that hold sweet things  (even though I have only had 1 sugary treat since mid-October, go me!) so this is right up my alley. 

While we're on the topic of cute things that hold sweet things, how adorable is this little one? I love this child, he recently learned to laugh, and he does it very well.

Anyway, I brought the snowman thing to work to put on my desk with candy in it. Everybody keeps walking by saying how cute it is and I love bragging about my incredible mother-in-law. “She made that.” I say. Then their jaws promptly drop and they go “Really?!?! Does she do that?......Like for work?” and I say “Nope, she just does it because she loves me.”

Mom-Reilley sometimes thinks that because she has stayed at home being a mom for so many years, she has zero marketable skills. I think this stands as evidence that her marketable skills exist and are thriving! Don’t you think?  Maybe I’ll tell her she should go into “making cute things” business, cuz she does all kinds of things like this. What can I say? She's amazing.

I’m a bit of a control freak.

It’s true. At least I know it. And I acknowledge it. That’s because I’m a control freak who also happens to be aware of her surroundings and always (sometimes) tells the truth.

How do I know I’m a control freak? Well, it’s not rocket science, but for those of you who are "not rocket science" impaired, I present the following evidence:

Exhibit A: Thanksgiving. We ate at a restaurant. I freaked because I wasn’t the boss of what was available, or how it was presented. I didn’t get to tell anyone which side the forks go on, or what order the food should appear in the buffet line. Even though I’ve never ever been in charge of Thanksgiving, it still bugged me. Partly because the turkey came AFTER the gravy and that’s annoying. Also because they put the dessert food right inside the front doors and that means you have to fight the groups of people coming into the restaurant to get to dessert. Also annoying.

Exhibit B: I hate family Christmas parties. Not because I don’t love my family and want to be with them. Not because I hate Christmas. Not because I hate white elephants. Not because I hate pretending the church gym is a cozy living room. And certainly not because I hate the food. I’m fine with all of that. I hate them because they mean I am not the boss of my own schedule for the next 34 days. I don’t get to come home on a Friday night and choose what we’re doing for the weekend. It’s already planned. And it has pretty much been planned since last year at this time. I want to decide what I feel like doing that weekend and do it. But, for this long wretched one month out of the year, I don’t get to. That’s annoying.

Exhibit C: I put things on other people’s to-do lists. Without permission. I don’t really blame me for this one. Outlook allows me to do it, and that means it’s OK. However, I do accept full responsibility for the fact that I flag pretty much anything I can. E-mails, tasks, and Calendar items. I want to pop up on the computer screens of other people because I think it gives me power. I think it means I’m the boss of what they are doing with their time. “Work on that thing for me please” I’m saying, with a not-so-gentle reminder popping up in the form of a red flag blocking everything else on their computer screen. “I won’t go away until it’s finished.” I say after the first time they try to “close” me. “No really. If you don’t finish, I’ll stay right here for. Ev. er.” Also I hate it when other people flag stuff to me. It’s my to-do list. Who do you think you are? That’s annoying.

Exhibit D: I am a backseat driver. Sorry Josh. I’m working on it.

Exhibit E: This weekend Cami and Braden slept over at our house. On Sunday morning Josh came into the bathroom to get a towel for Braden to use when he showered. He got out an ugly towel. Josh and I own 10 towels for regular use. Plus some decorative towels that are not to be used, they just hang there making me feel like my bathroom matches. We also have ugly towels. These are for camping, hair dying, and “oh-my-gosh I just knocked over my 32 ounce glass of water on the carpet” moments (not to be confused with “oh-my-gosh I just spilled lemonade on the kitchen floor” or “I just mopped the floor but need to walk on it right away” moments).

Apparently when Josh put the towels in the dryer they didn’t get all the way dry, so he just grabbed one of our other ugly towels for Braden to use. That bugs me because I didn’t want Braden to use an ugly towel. He is a 13 year old boy and truly couldn’t care less, but it bugged me. It bugged me that Josh was fine with using one too when I reached in the closet for a clean towel and found that they were all in the laundry basket. I waited to shower until the towels were clean, Josh used an ugly towel. That’s annoying.

The fact that it’s annoying when other people do things their way proves that I’m a control freak. I like the way I do things (duh, that’s why I do them that way…) and I don’t really feel like changing, so I probably won’t. But I just wanted to publicly acknowledge that I am a control freak, and for the most part I’m OK with that.

*Optional Evidence: I can't stand automatic things in restrooms. I hate the toilet flushing thing not flushing when I want it to (too early is worse than too late, but I hate both). And I really hate the water sensor things. Too much water comes out and it splashes everywhere. You don't get to pick your own temperature. And the thing never comes on quickly when you're in a hurry. I bet you can guess how I feel about that. Annoyed.