The girls and I left for Arizona Tuesday Aug 28th. Our flight wasn't until 5pm, so we left our house around 1pm, giving ourselves time to stop for lunch. Joey surprised me and took us to Qdoba (it's our Wednesday ritual, double punch day) and then we headed off to Denver. For the first time ever, we got there the recommended 2 hours prior to departure. I think from the time we checked our bags at the curb, went through security (of which I didn't have to wait even a second) and rode the train all the way to Terminal C, it was only about 25 minutes. Way to be on time. I then had to kill about 1+ hour with the girls. They were good. They played around the gate and ate snacks, before we went and bought an overpriced bottle of water and found two Angelina Ballerina books for Marryn and a Dr. Suess board book for Reganne. The plane came, we loaded (it was pretty empty) and took off. The girls were great! Reganne got a little antsy towards the end, but not bad. We arrived in Las Vegas to meet my parents, of which almost didn't find us. That morning I went to my favorite salon (an Aveda one in Old Town) and got my hair cut and straightened. My mom said they saw me before they saw me! Now, for all of you giving me the look of death when I said I was going to fly alone with the girls, in your face, it was cake! Of course walking out of the airport was like running into a brick wall. HOT! I then had to install Reganne's carseat and reinstall the one Marryn was going to use. My parents were so worried about putting indents in their leather seats that the seat was not in very snug at all. And it was sitting on beach towels. Good thing though, I needed them to wipe the sweat dripping down my face!
They have on matching shirts that say, "I get cuter everytime U see me"
Thanks, Megan, for pointing this out.
I am ecstatic to be in a size 6. This is not at all what I consider "big" clothes. Although, the size 6 I am now is NOT the size 6 I was in high school. Seems to me that the new size 6 is the old size 8...
The girls and I just arrived home late last night from a week long trip to Arizona to visit my family. I'm tired, cranky and just not up to doing much today. I was in on the computer, trying to document (i.e. Blog) our trip and Marryn was in the bathroom, going "potty" (no, she's not toilet trained). She comes out and says there's water all over. I go in thinking I'm going to find maybe, hopefully, a little bit of pee, but no. I find water ALL OVER! I lift up the toilet lid to find it had clogged and overflowed, thanks to both Reganne, who unrolled a huge wad of toilet paper and Marryn, who tried to flush the huge wad of toilet paper. Multiple times.
I just washed a solid load of jeans.
I don't remember the last time I washed a solid load of jeans since I left home.
Growing up, I thought jeans had to be washed with jeans (like with like) AND I though you could only wear a pair of jeans once before they had to be washed (oh, that is true...). But in my family, that's how it needed to be. My dad is/has been a builder, a rancher, a construction worker, a farmer... the list goes on as to what he does. He doesn't work a typical office job. And would never want to. Add in my two younger brothers who have followed his lead, and you get very dirty jeans. Lots of solid loads of jeans. Well, our life isn't quite that way. Our jeans are washed with our colors because we don't go through that many and we don't own that many. Jeans are expensive and well, to be honest, we are bigger than we'd like to be and we don't like to buy "big clothes." So one or two pairs is all we own (with the exception of the girls-oh how I love to buy them clothes!)
My mom has great taste. And loves to shop. And has in the past year or so whittled down to about nothing. So I came back from this trip to Arizona with an additional checked bag full of jeans. Jeans for myself. Size 6ish jeans that would fall off my mom, but fit somewhat nicely on myself. Name brand, expensive jeans.