Rediscovering, A verb

I hear sometimes old embers can ignite new flames. This is my hope.

This is us {unedited}. 2018.

This is not a New Year’s Resolution. I feel like I should disclose that.

But maybe it should be. (???)

Did you make goals? It’s the 9^th, and mine are still a work in process. Maybe there is beauty in that, I’m not sure, but maybe. I know I have been thinking much more deeply about those goals and where I want to be at the end of 2018. I’m still undecided. I’m trying to be okay with that. I'm learning that sometimes life doesn’t need to be perfectly scripted and planned out. That’s a really hard concept for me to grasp, let alone celebrate.

But here we are.

We’ve changed. We’ve grown. We’ve trialed. Sometimes with error. We’ve felt defeated. And have conquered too. We’ve developed. And moved on. And held on. We’ve aged. We’ve laughed. We’ve unearthed some new passions. And kept developing some old as well. We've had some fun. We’ve traveled. And also willingly hunkered down at times. We’ve met new friends. We’ve missed old friends; and kept in contact with some along the way.  And, most importantly, we’ve loved! I think that’s my favorite part.

Maybe that should be my goal for the upcoming year?

Love!

I like it.

Let it be known

Sometimes it just cracks me way the heck up that beauty school is a written and published chapter in my history book.

It’s just so not me.

I mean. I don’t have a single beauty product in my entire make-up bag that wouldn’t be stuffed in the same plastic shopping bag as the strawberries, cold cereal and toothpaste that I purchased in the same transaction. (Well, except Clinique pressed powder. But that’s just because it’s my easy button. I’ve worn it for forever, and I’ve got my color all memorized up and stuff. Plus, one of those babies can lasts me up to 2 years. So really it’s like Clinique is paying me to wear their powder.) Truth be told, it wouldn’t matter if I bought the expensive stuff, I wouldn’t the first clue how to apply it properly.

And do you know how many times I’ve grabbed a fashion magazine to googly eye over celebrity outfits and get inspiration on how to dress? Let me do some quick computing … Probably never! (Trashy celebrity gossip? Well that’s a whole different story.)

And the number of Pinterest boards that I have titled “Oh So Fashionable” or “Outfits for the Friday Nights”: Zero

Mail order make-up subscriptions: None

Number of videos I’ve watched regarding how to do the smoky eye: Zilch (Is the smoky eye even still popular?)

Number of mani or pedi’s I’ve had (not including the ones done by fellow amateur beauty school pupils): Zippo

But, I can do a mad prom inspired up do. So there’s that. Or at least there used to be that. I’m not so sure anymore … it’s been years since a prom inspired hairdo created by Kim has been called upon.

And I do wax my own eye brows.

And I cut the hair of the people who live with me. But really, who doesn’t?

I got asked a few years ago to teach the Young Women in our church some new, cute and hip hairstyles. Bahahahaha. Say what! I have a grand total of no clue on what the new, cute, and hip hairstyles are! I do blow dry my own hair though, but that’s not really anything I would label “hip” or “new”! Of course I wasn’t qualified to teach such an audience on such a topic.

I said yes. Naturally. Because I’m prone to that sort of thing - saying yes without fully processing what it is I’m agreeing too.

As an attempt to eat up some of the time that I would be up in front of a group of fun, cute and hip teenagers (while their fashion savvy eyes glazed over and I taught them how to do the finger wave or some equally dated and unhip hairstyle) I asked another lady to join in on the party. She’s uber beauty school material – fashionable, put-together, in the know. I'm certain she has a multitude of Pinterest boards assigned to fashion. Honestly, she’s probably the actual lady pinned to all the fashionable Pinterest boards. Anyway, I asked if she would talk a bit with the girls along the lines of new, cute and hip fashion ideas.

She totally came through for me. She rocked it! She rocked it so hard that there wasn’t a single ounce of even half a second for me to talk about hair. (I’ve never felt more certain that God does hear and answer my prayers.)

During the course of her fashion inspired lecture she told a really sad, heart wrenching, sob story. It was a true story about how when she was a younger fashion apprentice she would study fashion magazines, create red carpet worthy outfits and stay up at night dreaming of which color of hoop earrings she would pair with her Jordache jeans (or something like that). And then (are you ready for this) her mom would expect her to shop for clothing at the same establishment that they bought other consumer goods like milk and produce. Gasp! The nerve!

I let out a loud woot, woot. And I was only kinda kidding.

Because on one hand that’s a mama I can stand behind. I’m a fan of all the multi-tasking. Milk, eggs, clothing and make-up in one shopping trip. Holla!

But on the other hand, I’m certainly not going to let the stresses of fashion and finding the right size ruin an otherwise enjoyable grocery shopping trip.

(Plus, I don’t typically frequent that one store that you can buy potato chips and underwear with one swipe of the card.)

(Wait, unless were talking about Costco, and if that’s the case duh!)

Anyway, where was I? I think I was just in the process of admitting that thirteen years after graduation I have amounted to a total beauty school joke! A failure, I suppose. It’s certainly not pretty, but it doesn’t embarrass me in the least.

And now that I say it, I wonder if that’s the part I should be embarrassed about?

I’m happiest {but}

I’m happiest with the mountains as my backdrop.

But a vacation elsewhere makes me happy too.

I’m happiest when we’re loud: laughing, wrestling, joking.

But my soul needs moments fueled with silence for sanity.

I’m happiest where I am right now.

But I love an occasional escape into my memory.

I’m happiest with those I’m most comfortable with.

But successfully engaging with the unfamiliar boosts my self-confidence.

I’m happiest when my heart is laughing.

But know the healing power of a good cry.

I’m happiest with both feet on the ground.

But can enjoy an afternoon with my head in the clouds.

I’m happiest in sunshine.

But know there is nothing like dancing in the rain.

I’m happiest with them as continuous companions.

But am recharged by that rare moment of solitude.

I am happiest when things feel constant,

But I know when there’s change – I can be happy there too.

It’s my birthday month and other confessions.

Kate, Jami and me

+ I have a million times more pictures of me and my adult siblings making faces then I do of us smiling and acting civilized.

+ Spence and I are recent Scrubs addicts.  Finished Season 1 in two weeks and not slowing anytime soon thankyouverymuch.

+ Moths scare me {{shudder}}. 

+ I spring cleaned closest over the weekend.  In the process I put one of Brynlee’s now to small sun dresses on Jace and then I laughed until my cheek bones hurt.  Meanest mom ever. 

+ I hate ketchup.  And mustard.  And hot sauce.

+ But I’m passionately addicted to pickles.

+ I will only write in my dayplanner in blue ink. 

+ And also, my dayplanner is one of the top 5 things to grab if ever my house catches fire. 

+ I allow my kids to eat too much sugar.  And I know it.

+ I got the giggles during the closing prayer of General Conference yesterday afternoon.  Not exactly sure what triggered it, but I couldn’t stop.  It was that slumber party giggle where the more you try to control your laugh the more uncontrollable your laugh gets.  Yes, I’m twelve.  Why do you ask?

+ Jace peed behind a building at the park over the weekend.  Twice!  The first time because he needed to use the restroom and there wasn’t one available.  And the second time because the first time was so dang fun he insisted on trying it again.  Boys are so weird.

+ Typing the word “peed” makes me uncomfortable.  Just found that out. 

+ I turn twenty-nine this month.  Did you hear that?  TWENTY-NINE!  And I’m a bit freaked out by it.  Turning twenty-eight didn't seem like a big deal, but TWENTY-NINE!  Twenty-nine is almost thirty.  Twenty-nine is the Farwell to the Twenties.  Twenty-nine can no longer pass as mid-twenties.  Twenty-nine is old spelt capital O, capital L, capital D.  And I realize that someday when I’m 38 or 42 or 68, twenty-nine is going to be “just a kid”.  But I’m not any of those ages so right now, at twenty-eight, turning twenty-nine seems like turning awkwardly old.

And to add to all the awkwardness {because that is what I’m good at} in honor of my twenty-ninth birthday I will be confessing twenty-nine more times during the month of April.  Because ya’ll don’t know enough about me {she says sarcastically as she remembers a handful of blog posts that should have never been published}.  And also, because it has been a sweet, sweet forever since my last confession.  And quite honestly, I’ve missed it so.

Stay tuned for a birthday month confessional times twenty-nine.

Anyway, I’m off to celebrate Monday with one of my favorite gals ever.  It’s about time Breah and I finally get together because, quite frankly, I’m sick and tired of her Christmas present hanging around my house.  It will be like Christmas in April.  Or something.

Color Me Red

I went to the grocery store to pick up a few things I needed for dinner.  Like some sour cream, parmesan cheese, pink peeps, and a box of raspberry filled doughnuts.  You know the necessities.  I left the store with a tube of bright red lipstick.  R-E-D, red lipstick.  BRIGHT RED LIPSTICK, you guys.  I haven’t a clue what I was thinking.

Except for I do remember what I was thinking, so forget that whole thing of me not knowing what I was thinking.  It was a lie.

I was thinking. . . oh look, bright red lipstick.  ON SALE!  A steal of a deal, too.  Maybe I should try it.

I was thinking. . . my mom wears red lipstick, and it looks good on her.  I’m my mother’s daughter so maybe it would look good on me.  Maybe.

I was thinking. . . oh, and here’s some nice subtle pink lipstick.  I think I have a tube almost that same shade at home.  Maybe I should buy another while it’s on sale.  Stock up, in the name of food storage, you know.

And then I put the red lipstick in my cart right next to the raspberry filled doughnuts.  And I grabbed two tubes of the pink lipstick because it felt like the right thing to do. 

Okay, here’s the thing.  I’ve been on a mission to find a decent shade of lipstick since my little sister told me my lips looked black.  She’s nine.  “Black lips, black lips,” she teased.  And I wouldn’t have let it get the best of me except for she made the statement at Kate’s wedding – after we’d spent the day posing for pictures.  And really the only thing worse than wearing a shade of lipstick that qualifies you for the nickname ‘black lips’ is wearing that shade of lipstick to an event where the picture evidence is sure to live on for-e-ver.

Now that I think about it, I wonder if that has become my distinguishing trait between Katie’s new in-laws.  Okay so Kim’s the sister with the black lips, right?

So, I bought the red lipstick.  Brought it home.  And put it on.  It immediately caused me to do kissing faces in the mirror.  Repeatedly.  It also caused me to do that sassy-pants hair flip thing, striking a pose after each successful flip.  And when I walked, weirdest thing, my hips swayed.  I kid you not.  I felt so trendy.  So put together.  So sassy.  And when I was finally done acting like a teenager in love I stopped with all the unnecessary movement and took a good look at myself in the mirror.

And ohmygosh.  Oh-ho.  Oh my goodness.  I looked like a ten year old who’d just experienced a successful heist that involved her mother’s make-up bag.  Only worse. 

It didn’t help that I had a dab of bright red lipstick on my teeth. . . and on my chin.  I haven’t a clue.

Anyway, the decision was unanimous.  I can pull off the red lipstick look just about as well as I can pull of the string bikini look.  As in, NOT AT ALL.

But at least now I know.

i am

photo taken by brynee

i am the lucky mommy of Brynlee and Jace
i am a wife, a sweetheart, a soul mate to my very best friend
i am a daughter to the most remarkable parents
i am a mormon
i am a teacher for a group of 16-18 year old girls
i am my family's self-proclaimed record keeper
i am the sole member of my kid's momarazzi
i am co-captain of team [insert last name]
i am a sister, an aunt, a granddaughter, a sister-in-law
i am a cook/chef/baker forever in training
i am a believer in Christ
i am employed as a housewife
i am very proud of my career choice
i am living my very own love story
i am an optimist
i am a recovering diet coke-aholic
i am a pretend interior decorator
i am a housecleaner, and a clothes washer, and a dish doer
i am a country girl at heart
i am an unemployed cosmetologist
i am a college graduate
i am a hobbyist blogger
i am an organizer
i am the bill payer, but not the money maker
i am an obsessive list maker
i am an extrovert, sometimes excessively; occasionally minimally
i am a friend
i am an over-analyzer
i am creative in my own right
i am a walking fashion faux pas
i am a queen of good intentions
i am a family girl true blue
i am a leader
i am a master of none
i am stubborn
i am a busy body
i am a conversationalist
i am me
i am kimberlee
i am proud

I’m Gonna Like Me

I'm gonna like me when I roll out of bed,
From my ugly square feet,
to my wild bed head.

I'm gonna like me when my fat pants are tight.

When not an item in my closet

seems to fit me just right.

I'm gonna like me when I'm on top of my game.

When I wear lipstick, when I'm witty,

when I'm the far opposite of lame.

I'm gonna like me when I forget about the van's hatch
then close the garage door

leaving our swagger wagon's backside all scratched.

I'm gonna like me when I laugh really loud.

And sound less like a human,

and more like a clown.

I'm gonna like me when I'm the "World's Best Mom".
When we dance in the toy room
and the kids think I'm da'bomb.

I'm gonna like me when I have one of those days.

When I'm impatient. Inadequate.

And wish my worries away.

I'm gonna like me when I'm a good friend.

When I send a card, make a phone call.

When I'm there 'till the end.

I'm gonna like me when we happen to lose touch,

because even if not talking

I think of them much.

I'm gonna like me when I've reason to be proud.

When I've done a good job,

when the cheering gets loud.

I'm gonna like me when I land flat on my face.
When I stumble,
and I struggle to even finish the race.

I'm gonna like me when I speak outta turn.

When I share when I shouldn't.

Someday. I'll learn.

I'm gonna like me when I rock as a wife.

Supportive. Flirty.    

A companion for life.

I'm gonna like me when we don't see eye to eye.

When there's a misunderstanding,

or only a 50% try.

I'm gonna like me when the dinner's so gross

that we set it aside

and eat cereal or toast.

I'm gonna like me when my best's not that good.
When no matter how hard I try
it's just not as it should.

I'm gonna like me at the end of the day.

When I put on pajamas, take off make-up,

and kneel down to pray.

"I'm gonna like me because I'm loved and I know it

and liking myself

is the best way to show it."

"I'm gonna like me I already do!

But enough about me.

How about you?"

I'm gonna like YOU

in sunshine and rain.

So I recommend that

you like you too!

*****

Blog idea comes  from the children’s book
“I’m Gonna Like Me” by Jamie Lee Curtis & Laura Cornell.
Have you read it? If not, I suggest you do.
It’s one of our favorites.

An inadequate post.

Dad's farm at sunset.

I've felt so inadequate lately. I wish I could explain it. I've tried. But I just can't seem to pinpoint the exact reason for the massive serving of inadequacy garnished with even more inadequacy, and then served on white paper plates that are obviously inadequate for such an occasion.

Inadequacy is something that my mind usually doesn't bother itself with. I mean, I'm usually more bothered by the excessive side of the scale. I talk really loud, speak before I think, share more than anyone bargained for and interrupt more often than commercial breaks on the season opener of American Idol. I'm not saying that inadequacy isn't something that I struggle with, because HEAVEN HELP ME. {Don't tell anyone, but I don't even have an etsy shop or a photog business or make all my old shirts into perfectly sewn little dresses for my stylish daughter, and I'm not even going to tell you how much money I DIDN'T SAVE due to my inadequate ability to clip and organize coupons.} I'm just saying that I'm the proud owner of plenty other personality quirks that seem to trump the feeling of inadequacy.

But lately my inadequacy has all but consumed me.

You call yourself a good mom, Kim. {evil chuckle} Good moms don't forget about the laundry and allow it to mold in the washer until one starts to wonder what died. Good moms don't allow their boys to eat a solely hotdog diet for SIX DAYS IN A ROW. Seriously Kim, would you get it together. When was the last time you exercised, huh? Or read a book? You need to pay more attention to the needs of others, Kim. Be more aware. And your hair. Oh sweetie, your hair looks horrendous. Would you learn how to properly apply make-up, Kim. P.S. you need a new wardrobe. You are so inadequate. Sigh.

Most of the time my extreme optimism is able to ward off any feelings of inadequacies.

So what the kid hasn't eaten anything but hotdogs for a week. Every hotdog slice is saturated in ketchup before entering his mouth. So it's actually like he's eating tomatoes. By the truckload! And no biggie that the same load of laundry as been 'resting' in the washer since last Tuesday. The clothes were stained. They needed that extra soaking time.

And usually what I can't fight with the glass half-full scenario I'm able to overlook as something that I'm working on, something that I'm trying to improve, the whole "I'll do better next time" thing.

But lately I've been acutely aware of me and all my inadequacies. They've been starring me straight in the face begging for my surrender; taunting me to admit failure, to throw in the towel, to acknowledge an inadequate defeat.

It's not my inadequacies as a mother, or a wife, or a housekeeper, or a friend that seem to be getting the best of me. Although, no kidding, those inadequacies are as numerous as wedding announcements on the BYU campus.

What's really bothering me is the inadequacy that I've been feeling in my church calling. I'm the Laurel advisor, I teach the 16-18 year old girls.

This isn't my first time having this calling; I've had a calling in the Young Women's for the majority of my married years. In fact in the seven years I've been married, I've held almost every calling available in the Young Women's program. I love the Young Women's program. I love the lessons, I love the weekly "mutual" activities, I love girl's camp and I love being involved with the youth in the ward. I'm comfortable there, and never ever before {not even as Young Women's President} have I felt inadequate.

But for some reason the last few months have been different. Maybe I haven't spent enough time preparing. Or haven't started early enough. Maybe it's because of the group of girls that I have in my class right now. Or maybe just one or two of the girls. Maybe because I don't prepare a tablescape with every lesson {gasp}. Maybe it's because I can name 85 people in the ward that would be much better in the calling. Maybe because I get too excited when I teach: talk to fast, to loud, repeat myself. Maybe because I have young children and a husband that I would much rather spend my time with. Maybe it's none of the above. Or maybe a mix of all of the above.

But whatever it is . . . it's a battle, of sorts, that I fight every Sunday evening. That overwhelming feeling of inadequacy. 

And somehow, I'm not sure how yet, but somehow I'm going to overcome it. Any ideas?

P.S.

Spence and I just heard strange noises outside and we went to check it out.

Err, um. . . I sent him to check it out while I sat comfortably {and safely} on the couch.

He found a baby deer relaxing on our back lawn.

We found a few more on the front side of the house.

That explains all my mysteriously eaten tomato and pepper plants.

And the yard full of deer poop we've been cleaning up day after day.

But they were baby deer.

And they were cute.

So I'm over it.

The eaten plants part.

Not the deer poop.

Because, seriously, gross.

That's what the neighbor's yards for.

Right smack dab in the middle!

Something happened today that got me thinking. And the more I thought, the more I realized… Some people can paint a beautiful picture or create an amazing art sculpture. I'm not one of them. Some people can sing a breathtaking song that brings tears to the eyes. I’m not one of them. Some people always look beautiful, fashionable, presentable. I’m {definitely} not one of them. Some people can be a star on stage. I’m not one of them. Some people can swim, run or dance better than others. I’m not one of them. Some people really do excel. Surpass. Exceed. Dominate. But not me. I’m just average. Just common. Typical. The usual. I mean...sure, I have talents. Things that I am pretty good at. But nothing that makes me more special than the next.



I’m just an average girl, with average athletic ability, graduated with an average degree, from an average college. I have an average {or slightly below} wardrobe; I’m an average cook with average artistic skills. I’m an average mommy, an average wife, an average daughter, sister, sister-in-law, friend. I’m no diamond. But I’m not mud. I’m not an enormous mansion with a million dollar view. But I’m not a cardboard box either. I wouldn’t say I’m Porsche. Nor am I Pinto. I’m just average. Right smack dab in the middle. And, do you want to know what? It's okay. Do you want to know why? Because me and my extreme levels of averageness are comfortable. I'm happy, content even blessed being average. What more could I ask for?


*Part of this post was taken from my journal dated November 2007*

I know I can’t, I know I can’t, I know I can’t

When Sarah came down last week we were discussing the fact that I make homemade baby food for my babies. Sarah jokingly {obviously, ‘cause seriously…have you met me?} said, “What can’t you do?” I instantaneously fell to the floor in uncontrollable laughter. Then 15 minutes later, when I had finally gained composure and caught my breath, I asked her to repeat the question. That way I could honestly say that I’d been asked that question twice in my life. Anyways… I would like to formally answer Sarah’s question. {Yes, I do consider the blog to be formal.} {And no, I don't think it was intended to be a hypothetical question.}

I can’t help that the more excited I am the faster and louder I talk. I can’t sing a single note in key. Yet I can’t listen to music without singing along. I can’t jump off a diving board and I can't gracefully snowboard down a hill. I can’t fit into a size zero, swallow prenatal pills, or cut in a straight line. I can’t draw, paint or sketch. I can’t watch “The Biggest Loser” without crying. I can’t go on a road trip with Spencer without playing, “remember when…?” I can’t get in bed without first checking on both my kids. I can’t focus when watching TV. I can’t help that I am addicted to American Idol. I can’t compete in a starring contest without laughing. I can’t put the newspaper in the recycling bin without reading “Dear Abby”. I can’t help but to feel guilty when money is spent on me. I can’t watch Dateline without Spencer, and even then I get uncomfortably scared. Yet, I can’t talk myself out of watching it. I can’t not read the cover of the magazines in the check-out line. I can't thank my parents enough. I can’t eat just one of anything. I can’t go to a fair without being reminded of Dairy Heifer 4-H. I can’t consecutively be early (or even on time). I can’t explain how happy Spencer makes me or how much joy Brynlee and Jace bring me. I can’t make myself scrapbook. And I can’t play basketball. And that’s the short list! There are many, MANY more things that I can’t do! What can’t you do?

Bloggy Milestone!

Last week my sister and her family came down for a visit. It was a semi-forced visit since they were actually on the way to the in-laws, but got snowed in (or snowed out?) and couldn’t make it that far. She informed me that I was almost to my 100th post and asked if I was going to do something special for it. Although, for memories sake, I still want to post a few things about Christmas I will put that on hold for a "special" 100th post.

If there is one thing that I have learned in bloggin’ it’s that on your 100th post you post 100 things about yourself. And in an effort to be hip (Okay, I just said "hip," which, by default, contradicts its intended connotation) I am going to do what everyone else does.

So here goes:

1. I was born in the booming metropolis of Stone, Idaho.
2. I think there were 6 kids in my Kindergarten class.
3. I still have the t-shirt that I got on my first day of Kindergarten.
4. My family moved to Filer when I was in 4th grade.
5. My neighbor, Erin, instantly became my best friend.
6. Most of my middle school memories are with Erin.
7. We used to help Darnell (dad’s hired help) milk the cows.
8. Not sure why we thought that was fun, but I think it’s ‘cause he gave us candy.
9. One summer we got addicted to MC Kids.
10. Spence found a copy of MC Kids on eBay and bought it for me one year for a birthday gift.
11. The night I went into labor with Brynlee I had stayed up until 1:00am playing that game.
12. My water broke at about 2:30am.
13. I graduated from Filer High School.
14. About 2 months after graduation I moved here to go to beauty school.
15. Although I have my beauty degree I only worked in a salon for about 3 months.
16. I wanted to get my bachelors degree so I went back to school and quit doing hair.
17. I still think that I will do hair again at some point in my life.
18. I would like to have a small salon in my house.
19. I really enjoy coloring and styling hair, but cutting hair isn’t my favorite.
20. I grew up with a lot of sisters. I know how a bad haircut make a girl feel.
21. For that reason cutting hair makes me nervous.
22. My dad is my hero.
23. When I was a little girl I couldn’t wait to grow-up to be a daddy just like him.
24. I’m named after my dad, Nolan Kim.
25. I don’t have a middle name.
26. I used to hate the name Kimberlee and insisted that people call me Kim.
27. Now I really like the name Kimberlee.
28. My dad’s nickname for me while growing up was screwball.
29. I hate to admit it, but it fits me well.
30. My senior year of high school a buddy and me thought it would be a good idea to dump instant mashed potatoes on the High School lawn in hopes that the sprinklers would make them grow.
31. It didn’t work.
32. We did get busted by the cops though.
33. They let us off with a warning.
34. Had the cops known that he and I had also put mashed potatoes in a washing machine at the laundry mat they might not have been so lenient.
35. The instant potatoes in the washing machine worked!
36. When my sisters and I were little we would steal my mom’s Jell-O packets.
37. If you lick your finger and then dip it in the Jell-O packet your finger works just like a dippin’ stick!
38. We also stole all of my mom’s garden seeds one year and used them to make mud pies. (Sorry about that mom!)
39. I use reusable bags for all my grocery shopping.
40. My favorite is my bags from Ikea.
41. I am married to my best friend.
42. He is hilarious.
43. He makes me laugh until I lose all forms of control.
44. Seriously, milk out of the nose kind of laughin’.
45. When Spence and I were dating I wrote 365 reasons why I loved him and gave it to him for New Years.
46. There was one for ever day of the year.
47. It’s fun to go back and read them.
48. Spencer and I meet when we were both working at Perkins.
49. I was a waitress and he was my manager.
50. We both quit about one month before we got married.
51. Spencer quit because he was standing up for me.
52. The leaving Perkins story deserves a post all to itself.
53. When I was in college I lived with 10 roommates.
54. We all got along surprisingly well.
55. Spencer and I bought our first little house about two months before we got married.
56. We dated for 2 years and were engaged for 6 months before tying the knot.
57. My kids are my life.
58. I would do anything for them.
59. One summer, when I was in college, I went to Cody Wyoming to work at a dude ranch.
60. It turned out to just be a little weekend get-a-way.
61. I came home three days later.
62. That summer I ended up living in Twin Falls with my little sister, Jami.
63. It was way more fun than working at the dude ranch.
64. When we went to the fireworks that summer we were the last ones to leave the CSI campus.
65. Jami thought she knew a short-cut.
66. She didn’t!
67. I am truly grateful for my religious beliefs.
68. I served as Young Women’s President for my church when I was only 23 years old.
69. It was my favorite calling that I have had so far.
70. I worked at Jamba Juice during high school.
71. My first car was a little red low riding Chevy Luv.
72. The heater (and defrost) didn’t work when the truck was turned on.
73. However, sometimes it would turn on when the truck was not running.
74. I would get in the truck after school and it would be about 280 degrees in there.
75. The only B’s that I got in college was the semester that Spencer and I got married.
76. I didn’t really apply myself that semester.
77. That was the semester that I took US History from a German professor.
78. It made for an interesting twist on the world wars and the Holocaust stories.
79. I took a class in college on the rhetoric of Adolf Hitler.
80. It was one of my favorite classes.
81. I could tell you what I did on any given day for the last ten years of my life.
82. It’s all written down in my collection of day-planner.
83. I make a daily list of what I need to get done every day.
84. Obviously I am extremely spontaneous.
85. I love categorizing and organizing things.
86. I’m a people person.
87. I believe that there is good in everybody.
88. I love talking with and getting to know different people.
89. Just not on the phone.
90. Aside from my family and my best friends (whom I talk with way to much) I don’t really like to talk on the phone.
91. Something about it makes me nervous.
92. However, I usually talk to my mom and my sisters at least once a day.
93. Sometimes two or three times a day.
94. You would think that we would run out of things to say.
95. We don’t!
96. I have A.D.D. when it comes to watching T.V.
97. I can watch an entire episode of something on T.V. and when it’s over I wouldn’t be able to tell you what I was watching or what it’s about.
98. Yet, I have watched every episode of Friends.
99. Twice.
100. I just wrote 100 things about myself!

Well, there you have it.

I promise when I get to 200 I won’t post 200 things about myself.

Or maybe I will. Who knows.

But, here’s to making it to 200 to find out.

We will now return to regularly scheduled posting

This is the final installment of it’s all about me week. You may all tilt your head to the side and sigh a big breath of relief. In unison now! (big, long, drawn-out sigh) Both my friend, Kali Jo and my sister-in-law Sarah tagged me for this one. Kali’s tag said I was supposed to list six quirks about myself, and Sarah’s said to list seven. So I am going to compromise and list five. Your welcome! I know you are sick of hearing about me.

1. I have a reoccurring dream that my Uncle Mark (who has spent most his life in a wheelchair) turns into Kermit the Frog and can walk again. I started having the dream when I was about six years-old, and have had it at least once a year since then. The last time that I had the Kermmy dream was a week or two before Jace was born.
2. An unmade bed drives me absolutely nuts. If I don’t get my bed made in the morning I make it before I get into it at night. Actually, I lay in the bed and make Spence make it with me in it. I can’t sleep when my blankets are all crooked and weird. I think I passed this quirk on to Brynlee seeing how she has a small break down if her blanket is “goofy”.
3. I am severely addicted to lists. So addicted that I think I might have list-a-tideous (Yup, made that up right there on the spot. My wittiness never ceases to amaze me) I make a list for everything! Most of my lists I do on the computer. I have my to-do list, my shopping list, my weekly house cleaning list, my monthly cleaning list, my packing list for when we go on trips, a list for what I have for food storage, a list of all the paint colors I used throughout my house…I could keep going, but I don’t want to scare you all.
4. I actually enjoy public speaking. I would love to be a motivational speaker someday. However, speaking in church makes me slightly nauseas. I’m not sure why, but I get way nervous to give a church talk. I think it might be that I feel undereducated.
5. When washing my windows and mirrors I wipe away the Windex with newspaper. Only with newspaper, gals. Paper towels leave those pesky streaks! A Godsend trick I learned from my very own mama.

Okay, I’m done.
Promise, I’ll quick talkin’ about myself now!

But Wait! There's More!

Here I am again with more of the same. However, in an attempt to change things up I recreated the rules on this tag. Hey, my blog. I can do what I want. My sis-in-law, Gretta, tagged me for this one. I am supposed to list eight things for each of the questions. But since Spence and I work better as a team, and because I can’t come up with 8 TV shows that I love to watch, we are both going to list four. Which in the end will give a total of eight. See how that works? Sheer brilliancy! 8

TV shows I love to watch
*Kim*

• American Idol! Yup, I’m one of those. Not only do I watch it, but I spend the next hour after watching it on the telephone with my sisters analyzing what just happened.
• The Office
• The True Hollywood Story (…and my dirty little secret is out, although I don’t keep up with it very good I do love me some celebrity gossip)
• Every now and again I tune into the Food Network because I think it’s healthy for me to be reminded of how slowly I chop and how poorly I eyeball ingredients.

*Spencer*

• Sponge Bob is definitely on the top of the list
• Myth Busters (explosions) can keep my attention for at least an hour (which is hard to do since I have an attention span that is smaller than Brynlee’s)
• The Office (Not so much the awkward parts with Michael)
• If I catch the first 30 seconds of Law and Order I absolutely have to watch the rest of the show just because I have to know how it ends.

8 favorite restaurants
*Kim*

• Bouillon Soup
• Chilis
• Red Lobster
• Olive Garden

*Spencer*

• Outback Steak House
• Sizzler
• Chilis
• Jack in the Box

8 things I did yesterday *Kim*

• Entertained via a tea-party, a few games on PBS.org, singing “Once There was a Snowman” so many times my head was ready to explode, and building a huge castle out of red, blue and yellow blocks.
• Snuggled, fed, changed, cuddled and rocked Jace.
• Finished the last of the painting in the kitchen.
• Laundry

*Spencer*

• Too many squats for 6:00am
• Tried to convert a program in TCL to Perl at work (Leave good enough alone)
• Jumped on the bed for about an hour with Bryn
• Had a knock down drag out fight to get Brynlee to wear her clothes

8 things I'm looking forward to
*Kim*

• Jacers sleeping through the night.
• Thanksgiving and Christmas!
• Spence’s vacations time over the holidays.
• All of our constructions projects on the house to be completely done.

*Spencer*

• Getting done with my powerlifting competition so I don’t have to be at the gym for 2 hours a day
• Getting this blog done so I can go to bed
• Thanksgiving (a holiday that celebrates food)
• Jace to be old enough so we can watch boy movies without questions like “who’s that guy”, “what just happened”, “what’s going on”

8 things on my wish list
*Kim*

• A bigger car. Preferably one that would fit Spencer, me, the kids, our luggage and the stroller.
• To take a romantic vacations with Spence (We would bring some nice souvenirs back for whomever was willing to watch our kiddos, any takers? I promise it won’t be one of those oversized shirts that says, “Somebody went to (insert vacation destination here) and all I got was this dumb t-shirt”)
• A tres fabu wardrobe.
• To never have my sweet little girl scream, “I HATE YOU, MOM” during her teenage years. Okay. Your right, I’m dreaming.

*Spencer*

• A 1200 pound total at the powerlifting meet
• Super awesome computer so my little girl can let me not play on that one either
• A Blue Ray player so I can finally watch something in true 1080p
• A grill that is diamond encrusted with “JUICY”

And if all Spence's wishes come true and he ends up with the diamond encrusted grill I would like to change my wish list to include four insanely ripped bodyguards. A smile that exposes a grill that’s diamond encrusted with the word "JUICY" is undoubtedly going to get two 5'8, pasty white peeps from the sticks KILLED!

It’s all about me, plus more about me

Okay, let me be honest I really haven’t done so good at the whole tagging thing. I love to read others tags, and when tagged I always have the best of intentions of doing them. However, somehow I don’t ever get it done. Here’s the truth. I have been successfully striving for new levels of lazy. That’s right, my bloggen’ bone is 8% good intentions and the reaming 92% laaazzzyyy! So in an attempt to make good, I am going to be hosting an “It’s all about me!” party here at My Life Unedited. I can hear the squeals of anticipation now; it’s hard to contain this level of excitement. I was going to ask everyone to bring a gift for my party hosted by me for me, but I figured that my little sister, Jami, would be the only one that would actually bring one, and you can only use so many good intended gag gifts before they start to wear on your self-esteem. So, here’s how the par-tay is going to work. I am going to toil furiously in the blogging trenches to post one tagged post a day for an entire week. Did you hear that? One a day. For a week. In other words: don’t expect too much. One a day, for an entire week! I’m frazzled and crazed, people. FRAZZLED AND CRAZED!! So here goes.

My cousin, Janita, tagged me for this meme a good month and a half ago. Instruction: Answer the questions with one word or a little more.
1. Where is your cell phone? Good question
2. Your significant other? Love
3. Your hair? Blonde
4. Your mother? Accommodating
5. Your Father? Supportive
6. Your favorite thing? Laughing
7. Your dream last night? Oh, so weird!
8. Your favorite drink? Diet Coke
9. Your dream goal? Always be happy.
10. The room you’re in? Toy/Family Room
11. Your hobby? Decorating
12. Your fear? Death of loved one.
13. Where do you want to be in 6 years? Not sure.
14. What you’re not? Scrapbooker
15. Muffins? On sale at Albertsons. (Thanks Stacy)
16. One of your wishlist item? Bigger vehicle
17. Where you grew up? Stone/Filer
18. Last thing you did? Colored Winnie the Pooh with Bryn
19. What are you wearing? Blue velour jogging suit (no laughing its laundry day)
20. Favorite gadget? Laptop & iPod
21. Your pets? Nope, not a one!
22. Your computer? Essential
23. Your mood? Comfortable
24. Missing someone? Grandma B.
25. Your car? To small
26. Something you’re not wearing? Shoes
27. Favorite store? Ross Dress for Less
28. Like someone? Great friends
29. Favorite color? Red & Black
30. When was the last time you laughed? Today
31. When was the last time you cried? Sunday!

That’s all for now. My little pigtailed puppy dog is nipping at my heels demanding that I get her some more doggy food (a.k.a. Coco Puffs) and some water that she can slurp out of a bowl. I’m not going to complain ‘cause a it sure beats the all-consuming game of fetch that me and the little doggy just finished.