the things i do for you.

Last Saturday, dear Kolton and I were sitting around with not a whole lot to do.

It had been a long week of school and we were definitely enjoying the day off, but there are only so many hours you can stay cooped up in a little apartment listening to your next door neighbor practice his trombone...or is it a trumpet? All I know is that it's not exactly the kind of music I would choose for an afternoon serenade. 

Anyway.

So while we were sitting around being bored and stuff, Kolton suggested we go for a bike ride.

I perked up at this idea and thought what a lovely idea it was, and what a perfectly smart/romantic/good thinker husband I married.

So I changed into a leisurely bike ride around town outfit and bounded out the door so excited about this idea.

Thirty minutes later, straddling my bike and staring up at a succession of three giant hills, I wasn't so excited about this bike ride idea.

Cue: pathetic whining

"But hooonney.....that hill is huge. like, huge.

I can't do it.

I don't want to do it.

I have no desire to do it.

You tricked me into this."

Cue: eye rolling from Kolton's general direction as he starts to pedal away from me

"C'mon...just put it in a low gear. It's a piece of cake"

Cue: grumbling from my general direction about how I didn't know we were aspiring to be olympic-level bikers and that I thought this was supposed to be a nice, leisurely bike ride where we could have a conversation instead of panting and sweating our guts out. 

But as Kolton was already halfway up the thing, I decided I'd better get a move on. 

So I pedaled, and pedaled, and pedaled, panted, sweated, and shifted down gears til there were none left to shift.  

Kolton occasionally looked over his shoulder and shouted encouraging words.

When we made it to the top of the first of the three ongoing hills, I stopped to catch my breath. My legs were a little shaky, but I was still feeling okay and even a little bit accomplished.

Then Kolton decided it was time to move on. I grumbled some more, but eventually began pedaling again as Kolton gave me some words of wisdom about how it's "All in my head" and that "If I'll just tell myself I can do it, I can"

 I told him to stop talking to me.

By the time we reached the top of the second hill, I was done.

I declared that I was not going one more step...or pedal....or tire rotation uphill.

I was turning around and going home.

Kolton made me stop, stand on my jello-y legs and take a few deep breaths.

When I was functioning again and had gotten some oxygen to my brain,

I still hadn't changed my mind.

 Then he told me that if we went up just one, last, tiny little hill, we could take a leisurely ride through the up-class, huge-house neighborhood of Rexburg and then it would be downhill the whole rest of the way home.

I could tell he really thought this would be appealing to me.

What actually changed my mind was that I knew after the torture he had put me through, I could probably convince him to get some spinach and artichoke dip from Applebees later that night.

Hallucinations of those warm, salty chips and creamy delicious dip were the only things that could inspire my last ditch effort to make it up that stupid hill.

(Kolton still thinks it was his pep talk. Silly boy!)

And yes, I did actually make it.

I didn't enjoy one second of it, but I made it.

And it was downhill the rest of the way, which might have been slightly scarier than the uphill part.

But I did get my spinach and artichoke dip and I even convinced Kolton to watch "The Help" which he actually mighta sorta kinda enjoyed.

In his words, "It was no Gladiator....but it was okay"

up in here

Nothing productive is going on.

We've got issues today.

Yes, that is a we.

Usually when nothing productive goes on, it's all me, but today I was able to snag Kolton and he finally saw the light.

(Until he realized what time it was and freaked out because he hadn't made a dent in his mound of homework)

But seriously.

We got home from school and ate Oreos.

(this is my favorite non-productive thing to do)

Then Kolton found a bag of coupons and we went through every single one trying to decide when exactly we would want a dollar off a Dairy Queen burger, when we would find the time to join the "Curves Club", and how exactly I would convince Kolton to take a salsa dancing class with me. 

We FINALLY got around to doing a leetle bit of homework, and then I mentioned to Kolton what I was planning on making for dinner.

He suggested we go out to eat tonight. 

So we headed over to Costa Vida where I got a grisly steak nacho and Kolton got a burrito that only had rice and beans on the inside and not on the side too. 

That was a deal-breaker.

When we got home, a little wrestling match ensued because I may or may not have stuck an ice cube down Kolton's shirt. 

I'm sure this really amused our neighbors.  

But Kolton has finally gone back to the grindstone and I've gone back to wasting time on the internet.

We'll try again tomorrow.

christmas break part 4

"Wellll....I was wondering if you might give me a little New Year's kiss?"

Gasp.

My lungs begin to shut down and

I. Can't. Breathe.

Did he seriously just say that to me?

I play back the last thirty seconds and find that, indeed, he did in fact say those words to me.

And then I start to laugh.

Yes.

Right out loud.

I was just so blindsided by this question.

 I mean, I knew we'd seen a lot of each other,

I knew he laughed at my jokes,

and liked to beat me at speed,

But did he actually like me?

like, like-like me?

What in the world is happening here?!

When the world finally righted itself and I stopped my chuckling, I realized that several seconds had passed, the invitation still hung in the air, but nothing had happened.

I started to think that maybe he regretted his question and was hoping I hadn't heard him.

But then I realized that this was Kolton and he doesn't go throwing around those kind of invitations without careful thought and consideration.

Good night! The kid doesn't have an impetuous bone in his body!

But still, there we were with my head still on his chest and nothing had happened.

It was just starting to get a tinsy bit awkward when I realized it was up to me (and that possibly my laughter may have weakened his resolve) so I waited a few more seconds, just to see him squirm and make him real nervous.

I might have also had to build up a little courage.

I mean, c'mon! you don't go fantasizing about a boy your whole life and then just go and kiss him! You gotta work up some courage and tell yourself that on the count of three you'll sit up, lean down real slow, and then just....do it.

So with my heart pounding I did just that.

And it wasn't earth-shattering or life-changing and no fireworks went off but....

It was nice.

sometimes we argue part II

1. whether our alarm clock is nerdy.

When we went household item shopping, Kolton was bound and determined to get an alarm clock that projects on the ceiling.

 I just looked at him.

when we finally did reach the alarm clock aisle and finally did find the projecting kind, I had other battles I wanted to fight (like getting a meat mallet, or our darling shower curtain that was maybe a little more spendy than a shower curtain should be) so I gave this one up pretty easily and let him put 'er in the cart. However, he did get a little teasing about the nerdiness factor of a projecting alarm clock.

He protested about how neat it is to be able to just open your eyes, look at the ceiling, and know what time it was.

I still thought it was nerdy.

And even though I still think it's pretty nerdy, it is pretty handy as well. Kolton's reasoning did win out in the end and I've grown accustomed to our nerdiness.

2. Whether to deactivate the seat belt chimes in our cars.

Do you know what i'm talking about? When you don't put on your seat buckle and the car beeps and beeps and beeps at you until you finally break down and buckle up?

Kolton has been fighting me on this one because Honda got really serious about their seat belt chimes and instead of a pleasant sound we get an annoying buzzing/beeping that goes off every other second.

But I know that if I give in and let him deactivate the beeping/buzzing he will NEVER wear his seat buckle.

So I hold strong and it's a hot topic every time we climb in the car.

3. If potatoes count as a vegetable. I'm not a real big fan of vegetables.
Actually, I don't like them one little bit.
Kolton may not be a huge fan of vegetables, but he insists that we have at least one serving per day.
That results in us eating a lot of corn
(cause I do like corn. a whole lot.)
But sometimes Kolton gets kinda sick of corn all the time, so he tries to open up a can of beans.
To which I say, blech.
(beans are not my favorite. I'll eat em but...they're not my favorite)
So in our many discussions about the need for vegetables in our diet I've brought up the fact that we eat a lot of potatoes.
(like a lot of potatoes)
So our vegetable quota is filled,
checked off,
donezo.
But Kolton can't just be happy with this.
Then he goes and has to insist that potatoes don't actually count as vegetables and that we have to add a little more green to our palate.
It's an ongoing discussion.

4. The amount of hours a person can legally spend doing homework. 
Especially how much homework should be allowed to be done on the weekends.
I've always seen the weekends as a blessed reprieve, not a time to get all caught up and then overachieve and get ahead for the next week.
I also haven't maintained a 4.0 since the second grade.
hmmm...
Nonetheless, I am constantly begging Kolton to just give it up already and play with me since we're gone to school all day and then he has to come home and lock himself in solitary confinement (the extra bedroom) and compute silly biochemistry problems.
Really, no one will be happier than me when he finally graduates.

5. What constitutes as "dinner"
Just to set the record straight, I don't try to force my strange eating habits on Kolton.
However, when he is gone or has already eaten, dinner for me, myself, is quite the adventure.
I have always not enjoyed cooking for one.
It just seems like such a waste. especially considering my aversion to leftovers.
So when I only have myself to look after, anything in the kitchen is fair game. (except for like, the fridge magnets of course)
When I was at BYU, a sleeve of Ritz and a bag of popcorn would make a fine feast.
(thank heavens my roommates staged an intervention and we all started rotating cooking for each other during the week. who knows what I would have resorted to without their meals)
So when certain circumstances arise and Kolton is gone or has already eaten for some reason, I just have no desire to cook.
Or even be in the kitchen for more than five seconds.
It just takes too much effort.
So instead I'll hunt around for a box of crackers and maybe some fruit snacks and call 'er good.
Then I'll tell Kolton about it and he'll shake his head at me and inform me that whatever I just consumed doesn't actually count as dinner and that I failed on my daily nutritional value for the day (what's new?)
But you know what?
I kinda think a bag of popcorn for dinner is good for a person every once in a while.
It just adds a little spontaneity to your life.

that september day

"Where were you when the world stopped turning, that September day?"

I was on the school bus headed to fifth grade.

Andrew Newman got on the bus and said something about the World Trade Centers, airplanes, and that it was all over the news.

I sure didn't know what the World Trade Centers were, and it sounded just like any other piece of news to my little fifth grade mind so I just shrugged my shoulders and wondered who I would play with at recess.

When we got to school, I walked up the steps to my classroom and noticed that T.V.'s were on in almost every classroom. When i got settled at my desk and was just waiting for the bell to ring, someone mentioned that they were going to Mr. Mackay's class to watch the news.

I thought, "Why not?" and tagged along.

When I walked into the classroom everyone was glued to the T.V. including several teachers.

When I finally clued in, I looked up to see two gigantic buildings billowing smoke.

I tried to piece the story together little by little, and finally my teacher, Mrs. Barzee, made us all go back to our classroom so we could have a normal day. She described to us all the events of the morning and I was surprised, but New York was an awful long ways away and since there was no real threat to me in my fifth grade classroom, I listened intently but was still able to go about my day with the attacks pushed far in the back of my mind.

I just didn't get it.

A year later, I had grown up a little bit, and on the year anniversary of September 11th, I sat by myself in our basement watching the reruns of the attacks. I stayed up way past my bedtime staring mesmerized at the images they were showing, images that I hadn't paid much attention to the year before.

New York didn't seem so far away then, and I was starting to see.

This week I have been spending inordinate amounts of my time in the tractor. I took some of Kolton's advice and have been listening to talk radio all week for a break from the music radio. On the Sean Hannity radio program, he had a guest filling in for him named Rose Tennet.

She talked about the memorial services for the tenth anniversary of September 11th and I was enthralled as I listened to her speak.

She talked about her reaction to the attack on our country and how she hadn't been able to get the images and fear out of her mind. She told stories of the heroes of that day and the days after who rescued people and who helped to give the rest of the country hope.

As I listened to her speak, ten years after the attacks, something clicked.

And I finally got it.

And it left me driving my tractor around the field choking back tears.

I have spent the last ten years watching footage on the TV once a year and occasionally thinking about what a great impact this event had on our country. I wasn't so naiive that I didn't notice the outpouring of love and compassion everybody showed to everybody.

But I still didn't understand how these attacks affected me. I didn't know anybody there, it was clear across the country, and I just saw it as someone else's problem.

But this week, starting with Rose Tennet, and many other radio talk show hosts discussing September 11, I've realized that as an American, these acts were aimed towards me and towards all other Americans, not just those directly affected.

And it made me think about America's response and how underneath all the labels, all the stereotypes, we are all just Americans.

And as Americans, it is our duty to preserve the land of the free and the home of the brave.

I am so grateful to live in this country, and I'm especially grateful for all those that have fought and sacrificed to make it the place it is today.
God bless the USA

can i just tell you.

1. how very much i hate cleaning out lunchboxes.

i gag.

violently.

i may even hate it worse than taking out the garbage.

but that one's a toss up.

basically i just hate anything that has to do with sticking my face in the near proximity of something that is smelly/old/moldy/grossness

2. how very much i've loved september thus far.

yesterday i was out doing yard work and it dawned on me that it was the perfect fall day.

the weather was cool yet warm. (yes, it's possible)

there was a slight little breeze.

i was crunching through leaves in my yard

and i could hear the sounds of the grain harvest.

holy cow, i just loved it!

and it made me so excited to pull out all my sweaters (oh, how i've missed them).

i love fall.