Little Town in the Big City

We recently went to the Corn Festival, where our little community celebrates its corny heritage.  Apparently, back when there weren't 8.2 kazillion people living in Southern California, my little town was known for its corn fields.

Well I can tell you, those are long gone.

But there is sure a lot in its place.

Every year a parade sets up right in front of our house.  Marching bands line up and down the street.  My first year in this little townhome, it drove me nuts.  You people are going to wake up my baby!! He was my firstborn, you know.  But now, four years later, I love it.  (It does help that I have no babies with morning naps this year.)

I take the kids and we walk down the street a little ways, usually parking in front of the massive Catholic Cathedral (which we got to tour once, and it's gorgeous).  And we watch our local little town strut its stuff.

Belle loved the horses.  Mac liked the fire trucks.  And me?  Well I always look forward to the Bolivian dancers.

See, when Mark and I got married, we were ready to travel the world.  We had a study abroad set up in Argentina.  But then our wedding was pushed back and we had to cancel.  We went to a Spanish Branch for church.  We even had a travel fund ... which then turned into the move-to-California-and-survive-jobless-for-a-couple-of-months fund.  

So this little parade reminds me how my little home down here gives me a taste of nearly every culture there is out there.  

I now have a better idea of where we'd like to travel to in twenty years when we have money again.

But in the meantime, I'm enjoying our little buffet of the world.

After this parade, everyone gathers at Lion's Park, a place sponsored by the local Lion's club ... which Mark joined.  So he spends this glorious weekend making funnel cakes, while the kids and I visit.

Besides this multi-cultural festival, there are several specific people I love here:

• The crippled liquor store owner, who waves to everyone he sees and brags to me about his daughters when we pass each other walking.  At the parade he said with a shrug, "What can I say, people know me here."
• Obert at the post office.  I wish I could tell you what country he's from, but my guess would be Thailand.  He is the most polite man I've ever met; I'm always impressed by how someone with such an incredibly different native tongue can speak slowly patiently enough that I can understand his thickly accented English.
• Rocky.  I don't know his real name, but I'm telling you ... there is a real-life Rocky Balboa in this world and he works at my Walmart.  The muscles, the accent, the way he speaks ... it's him.
• Lori the cashier.  That woman seems to remember exactly what we were talking about the last time I was in her store, and we always pick up where we left off.  She's beautiful, lonely, and loves my kids.
• The person in white.  I'm not sure the gender, but this person does the same thing every single day.  This person always wears a massive white polo, white shorts, white hat, and white shoes.  We seem to meet up at the library at the same time, but otherwise I see this person walking nearly every day as I run my errands.
• My neighbor Gary.  The guy's a free mason, an absolute genius, and very sad.  His wife died of a horrible infection, his son died in Afghanistan, and he recently had a complete knee replacement.  We bring him homemade rolls every now and then ... but I think his new Harley has been a real up for him lately.
• People at church.  Tattoos, accidentally cussing while bearing testimony, and incredibly different back stories are the norm with all these converts.  Gene stands out in my mind.  A Vietnam veteran, cat lover, and football fanatic.  I love seeing these good people; how different they are from me, yet still find truth and solace in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.

I'm telling you, California has all kinds.  And for the most part, people seem scared of each other.  It's like we all accept that we are incredibly different, and so everyone is best left alone.

But luckily my little side job gives me the opportunity to really get to know families.  I've helped thirteen little families in the passed two years, and besides helping with the actual birth -- which is the greatest thing ever -- I love being treated like royalty in their homes.  It is so fun to see how all these different families function on a day to day basis, and how they view playing host to me.

Mark and I are still decidedly against cramming this many people into one spot and are determined to settle somewhere with a little room to breath ... but I gotta admit, I'm really going to miss all these individuals.

Little Fishies

MacAlister has developed a fear of water recently.

It has really taken the fun out of swimming; something we do a lot down here in Southern California.

So, we decided it was time for some swimming lessons.  He was excited ... until we got to class.

That boy wrapped his arms and legs around me, white-knuckling my shoulders as I tried to set him on the side of the pool.  His sweet teacher Kristin -- bless her HEART -- steeled her face and helped me pry him off.

She listened to that boy sob for two days straight.

But she didn't give up on him; doing the same thing every day created a routine he could trust.  That ... plus a little incentive ...

A sticker chart made by himself, where he gets one sticker for each time he puts his face in the water.  Mark sweetened the deal by promising him a new glove (just like Mike Trout's) for 20 times in the water, and a new bat for 30.

Wow.  That made a difference.

Day three of swim lessons, that boy wouldn't look his teacher in the eye, but he knew what was coming and did everything she asked.

He took off from there; asking me to sign up for a second session even!  (He missed two checks on his swimming grade chart ... back float and front swimming.  He was quite determined to check those off and move on.)

And after four weeks of swimming every single morning, I can now say I have a swimmer on my hands.  That boy leaps off the diving board, surfaces, and swims to the side with almost no help.  He is three years old.

He adores Miss Kristin.  I do too.

He now has everything checked off ("Mom, wook!  I got all the checks! It's time for the next level!") and is set for Level 2 next summer.

And in the meantime?  We are having a blast swimming together.

 

 And his confidence has even trickled down to Belle ...

She now leaps into the pool just like he does; I just have to be sure and get floaties on her first.

Sweet and Sour Belle

Oh my little angel!

This 21-month-old girl brings so much joy to our little family.  She is hilarious.  She is independent.  And she is as sweet as sugar.

When I put her to bed at night, we sing "My Heavenly Father Loves Me."  She sings along, focusing on the vowels she knows so well.  Her favorite is the "meeeeeeeee" at the end of the song.  She then pats my arm, and holds up each of her bedtime buddies for me to say goodnight to.

On any given day, when we are attempting to load up the car to get somewhere (anywhere), I run around the house grabbing snacks, spare diapers, etc. etc.  Belen is always right behind me picking up teddy bears, princesses, shoes, cars, and balls.  She even tucks things in her armpits ... just like I do.

Putting on makeup in the morning has become an event; she makes sure she gets a dab of lotion, powder, deodorant, and tries her very best to sneak my eye liner and mascara.  We also take turns brushing hair.

Then throughout the day, she constantly reaches up to brush my hair out of my eyes. Yeah.

Belen also has a real love of hanging.  And walking along curbs.  And somersaults.  I'm seeing a lot of gymnastics in our future.

She loves cereal and yogurt.  All day long, she grabs my hand and escorts my to the cupboard.  "Ceewee-o", she says proudly, showing off that closed-mouth smile.

And she has suddenly decided that speaking is fun!  Her grunts have almost completely disappeared, but she still doesn't blabber.  She pauses, thinks, and then says one little word, watching me expectantly.  These little words are often tough to decipher ... but she's persistent and we're figuring it out.  In fact, she's already at the point where I can't even name all the words she says any more.  She can say just about anything .. but my favorite is the "Uh-huh" I get when I finally figure it out.

Belen loves reading ... particularly books about food.  Or puppies.  The movies Cinderella and Tangled stop her in her tracks.  In fact, after her nap she will come downstairs, turn on the t.v., put a couple of pillows on the floor, set her teddy one one and lay on the other herself.

She also adores her brother.  One of her favorite games is to actually physically copy everything he does ... hand on head, run in a circle, etc.  Mac thinks it's hilarious, and says, "Mom, Belle just keeps teasing me."

Belen believes she can do anything he does.  Tonight, we were playing baseball out front and she refused to let me help her hit the ball.  Mac swings the bat without help; she can too!  This girl has a will of iron.

But I'll tell you, that iron will of hers can drive me crazy.

Bodie captured that at Jamie's wedding ... and as hideous as it is, it's just so ... my life.

This girl can pitch a fit; instantly transforming into one sour little tart.

She does not like to be held.  Or forced anywhere.

It makes formal picture-taking rough.

And shopping?  My word.  I have to either plan on it taking several hours so she can walk along the cart herself (stopping every now and then to add something) and hide in clothing stands, or strap down a sobbing, vocal little one year old.

That ear-splitting screech is still inside her, and she doesn't hesitate to unleash it on me or Mac.

But if I'm honest ... even on the worst days, once she's in bed ... I can't help but smile at her backbone.  I love it.

In fact, it makes it kinda hard to discipline her some days.

Don't worry, she's already hit the time-out stair multiple times.  I just can't seem to stay mad at her for long.

That beautiful girl just melts me.

"Gunn Family's 6th Birthday" ... a.k.a. 6 Year Anniversary

Happy birthday to the Gunn family!

Mac really got in to our little holiday when Mark explained that it was the birthday of our family.

Well done, sweetheart.  You almost had me believing you liked celebrating this one.

Being that our anniversary was a Sunday, I took the romantic meal-making duties on myself.  I found the recipe for the Olive Garden's old Chicken Giardino; a favorite from years back.  The dish only existed for a few months on the menu, which happened to be nearly the same months that Mark and I met, fell in love, and worked together there.  Of course it wouldn't be complete without a salad (and two olives ... such lame salad-making rules at the OG) and bread sticks.  I did my chef-iest, and Pandora added the final touch: the "Classic Italian" station.

Mark laughed out loud.

I love holidays.  I love celebrations.  And boy do I love love.  So naturally, this would be one of my favorite times of the year.  Of course, if I happened to say, "let's not do anything", what I really meant was "let's not spend any money", which indeed is an important distinction ... unfortunately, one that never quite made it to my lips.  Bless my husband's pressured heart, he made sure Mac sat and watched our entire wedding and reception video, talking our beginnings up to be something special.

And you know, they really were.  I remember seeing Mark from a distance on my first training day.  Having just returned from working in Island Park all summer, I loved his "cowboy shaped" body.  You know, broad shoulders, tiny rear end?  Perfect man curves.  I thought to myself, "It's a good thing I'm not interested in boys right now, because that one would be very tempting."

So much for that.
It only took two months before that thought morphed into, "All those things I've got planned ... I'd rather do them with him, or not at all."

Since that decision was made, I have been blessed with many confirmations that indeed, I will be quite happy with my choice.

One came in the form of a backpacking trip to Havasupai with fourteen friends.  Two of which were seriously dating, and contemplating marriage.  Being engaged at the time, we were a source of information.  "How did you know Allie was the one?" this friend asked Mark.

Mark replied, "Well, it's not so much that there's a 'one' out there for you somewhere.  It's more that you find somebody, and for one reason or another, they just do something special to you.  Then you decide and make the commitment to spend the rest of your life learning how to be the one for them."

Isn't he the greatest?

Happy anniversary, sweetheart.  Sure glad you're mine forever.

Sweethearts

All the love going on lately has inspired some talks with our kids.

We've learned a lot about finding sweethearts ... after you get a 20 tacked on to your age.

Mac was a little bummed about that, so he's settled for this sweetheart:

Her name changes from day to day, he can't ever remember.  So he just calls her "sweetheart".

Mac sets her up on the couch and plays out an entire imaginary baseball game for her.  He also insists she and Bruce the shark come to swim class so they can cheer for him.

And Belen?

Well suddenly she's got Eric and Ariel kissing.

She'll find one of them, then wander the house till she finds the other, hollering, "Ehhhh-k!"  Upon their reunion, they immediately kiss with a big smack and hop along the furniture together.

We are certainly all feeling the love this summer.

And there are still two more weddings to go.

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.