Jamie and Michael Wright, Married July 20, 2013

Oh my stunningly gorgeous, sugary sweet, fireball of a little sister ...

If you were to look up feminine strength in the dictionary, the above picture is what you would find.  Don't be fooled by her scrawniness, that girl has pure power coursing through her veins.  Dedication and determination are met with an undeniable gentleness and kindness to forming this incredible creature that is my sister.  I have always been in awe of her.  When we were teenagers, little girls flocked to her goodness and boys my age cowered in fear.  She was the 4.0 honor student who was never late (until we shared a class together and the teacher couldn't tell us apart ... I got most of my tardies laid on her poor shoulders), and was loved by everyone.  Serving her fellow man has been the hallmark of her 24 years.  What comes naturally to her has taken me four years of motherhood to begin to touch on.

She is the bee's knees.

Well, finally one boy stepped up to the plate and proved to us that he could love her like she deserves to be loved.  So he popped the question, and Jamie gave him a hearty yes.  And now these two are married.

And what an event!  Prepare yourself for my longest post yet.

I arrived two weeks early to be her favorite roommate one last time ... and help plan.

Also, to jump naked.  To jog the mornings away.  And to celebrate Jamie's 24th birthday.

It's hose water, don't worry.

Jake is unbeatable when it comes to staring contests.

Jamie's birthday spoils benefited Michael as well ... it's good to have a birthday and a wedding next to each other!

Between all that, we also hit up the Logan pool, went hiking, did the jump zone, went out to lunch, played in the hose water and burned through Nana's tivo.  (Mac discovered Ninja Turtles.)  We moved Jamie into her new apartment, and she and I shopped for all the last minute necessities of newlywed life.

We then attended an open house in Bountiful to catch Michael's friends and family there.

Jake was starstruck by Michael's friend Andrew, who is apparently a YouTube sensation.

And finally, Mark arrived the day before their wedding.  I missed him.  (Brace yourself, I'm about to get sappy up in here.)  I felt more than ever that Mark is my home.  Not Logan, not L.A.  He is where I am comfortable, where I feel love and peace.  Wherever we move will be just fine by me.

With all that love in the air, we spent the last day of Jamie's singleness entertaining the masses of family pouring in to support my sister.

She went to bed early, declaring, "I feel ready.  Not really nervous.  It's time."

We started with the 8:30 a.m. sealing ceremony at the Logan temple.  Michael's grandfather sealed the two, and delivered a powerful message of dedication and love.  And with that one simple, momentous ceremony, it was done.  Mr. & Mrs. Wright, ladies and gentlemen:

Photos courtesy of Bodie Brower, a family friend who happened to do my wedding photos as well.
He is incredibly skilled.
http://www.bodwa.com/bodwaflash.html

Aaaah!  My seeeeeester!  

The only picture Belle smiled for all day.  Thank you Bodie!

These two stayed to take gorgeous picture after gorgeous picture, while the rest of us headed over to get ready for the luncheon.  The gorgeousness was hard to step away from, and they ended up being a solid half our late to the reception ... without even giving us the satisfaction of funny looks to exchange.

The luncheon was delicious and quite precious ... highlighted by the two of them telling their "how we met and made it here" story together.  There were a few disagreements, which made it all the more charming.

Next, it was time for reception setup.  I was in charge, and had mountains of help from my relatives.  I will never forget Uncle Bryan scrubbing bird poop off the stones.  It was touching; there is just no way I could have put it all together without them.

The USU Alumni Center turned out beautifully.  (Of course, that could just be because Bodie can make anything look incredible.)

We had cameras to give out to the kids, so we could get all kinds of pictures from all kinds of perspectives.  It was so much fun!

These three sang and played the night away, thanks to one of our favorite neighbors in the world, Zac Bettinger.  Jamie and I used to lay awake on summer nights, listening to him strum on his front porch next door.

We didn't want the day to end (partially because we had to drive all the way to St. George that night ... hello 4 a.m. arrival); everything went so perfectly.

But of course, how could it not?

This is my sister, Jamie Elise Wright we're talking about here.

And that girl, people, is as good as gold.

Bodie put this on facebook saying, "Part 3 of Another Edition to a magazine that never happened, but should have."
Amen, Bodie.

America's Birthday, 2013

"Happy birfday, America!"  Mac repeated that phrase over and over.  Each flag became thrilling; "Look, it's our country's flag," he'd holler, "it's your birthday, today!"

And what a celebration.  This year will go down in the history book of awesome Gunn family holidays.  

It started with a pancake and ice cream breakfast with some of the greatest people in Southern California.

My good friend Heather is putting offers on homes ... nowhere near us!  I'm really going to miss her.

Once we were sufficiently stuffed with ice cream and park playtime, we hustled back home to get in a good nap.

And then ...

...the greatest Angels game of our lives.

My good friend Mindy has a wealthy father-in-law who is a massive baseball fan.  His season tickets were incredible, and with all the family they had coming in for the fourth, he was looking to give them away.  So she, bless her heart, suggested her Angels-obsessed friends.

We had to be there at four so Mark could prep to be out on the field and hold the massive American flag during the National Anthem. (Which he was invited to do thanks to his boss, the fantastic Dr. Holland.)

So Mac, Belle, and I oogled the players during batting practice.  

I attempted to be super-awesome and get a player to sign a ball for Mac.  He, however, only had eyes for the great Mike Trout, who was nowhere to be seen.  

As we looked, Chris Ianetta (catcher) came in from batting practice, looked up at me, and placed the bat he had been using on top of the dugout ... right in front of Mac.  Now, I had Belen in one hand, and the ball and marker we had brought in the other.  "Grab the bat, Mac!" jumbled its way out of my mouth, but he just looked at me and said, "I already have a bat at my house, Mom."

Ugh.

So, the boy next to him quickly snatched it up.  I humphed, thinking, Oh my word that would've been awesome.  Mark would've loved it ... and then suddenly, that boy was handing the bat to Mac. 

"Mac!  That is Chris Ianetta's bat!" I felt giddy ... glad that kid's conscience kicked in.

"This bat is broken," Mac said.

Aaah!  Stop!  Ignoring him, I yammered on about how cool it was that he used that bat to practice and get super good at hitting home runs.  He hit it so hard, he broke the bat!

Enter a security guard.  "Excuse me miss," he interrupted, "we don't allow full-sized bats in the stands during games, so if you could come with me, we'll check it in at security and you can pick it up after the game."

Sure.  We began our walk up, when bam ... there was that kid again.  "Wait," he stammered, tears about to burst, "I was just letting him look at it!"

WHAT. I stopped dead in my tracks.  No.  He's got to be kidding.  "You weren't giving it to him?"  I asked.  He shook his head.  I looked at Mac, who was still searching for Mike Trout to sign his ball.  I looked back at this ten year old boy, hands shaking and eyes bigger than any puppy dog eyes I've ever seen.  

Ugh.

I handed the bat to him.  He whisked up the stairs.  The security guard looked at me for a minute, then shrugged and followed.  Mac didn't even notice.  

My stomach churned.

We went back to scouting out our favorite player, ignoring Howie Kendrick signing balls, Mark Trumbo signing balls, and a few other players I didn't recognize.  Mac wanted Mike Trout first, and I couldn't get Belen to follow me around the get the other Angels' signatures.  She was feeling ignored and put-out.  I was feeling frazzled and harried.

Oh Ianetta ... at lease we can say we held your broken practice bat.  Thank you.

But our luck took a turn as the third base coach eyed us and held a ball up in the air.  Mac held out his hands, and the ball skipped across the dugout and into Mac's arms.  "Hey, hims giving me this ball!"  He exclaimed.  "It's not broken!"  

Thanks for the ball, Ebel!

The gift accepted, we took our seats right as we appeared on the big jumbo tron.  "Hey, that's you!"  squealed the teenage girls next to us, and I glanced up just as the camera switched to someone else.  

Then came the flag squad.

Mark is in front of the "P" on the blue sign.

Oh hey, #5 Albert Pujols.  We named our fish after you.  You'd be proud!

Do you see Mark??  He's just to the left of that dang guy in the striped red shirt.  Go honey!!
Our friends Taylor and Janae Holland are to Mark's right.  Greg and Danielle Irwin are to his left.

 The game itself was incredible.  I felt like I was on  the team.  I can at least say I was on the dugout.  If not in it.  It was almost like I was back coaching softball ... but with a jillion dollars involved, more ... interesting ... players to look at, and a significant difference in skill.  Still, I was that into it.

My friend's father-in-law had told us to ask for Alfredo the first base coach; that they knew each other and Alfredo would happily give us a ball.

So about halfway through the game, Mac ran to the dugout and yelled, "Fredo!  Gimme a ball!  Please!"

His high-pitched squeak made Alfredo jump, but he tossed a ball over his shoulder with a smile.

Two balls.  In one night.

Here we have Mark trying to make sure his five brothers were good and jealous by texting them pictures and telling them that Albert Pujols had just saluted him as he carried the flag.  Pretty sure it worked.

The Angels ended up winning with a walk-off.  We were all out of our seats, cheering like mad.  I don't think I've ever cared about a baseball game so much in my life.  (Softball is in its own separate category.)

It was just so fun.

Then finally, to top it all off, fireworks.

Besides Belle's squinting, she seemed to enjoy them.  Mac, of course, whooped through the whole thing.  "Waterfall fireworks are my favorites.  Daddy likes them loud ones."

What a day.

Arriving home with two sleeping children, we had to move our own fireworks to the following evening.  Mac made sure we did not forget.

The bonus to that?  We had guests!

Poppers are a little scary, turns out.  Much better to be viewed from indoors.

My Aunt Lori, cousin Kennedi, and their hilarious friends helped us wish America a very happy birthday.

And it really was.