F is for Foutz!

HAT.

2012-01-27T16:27:00.003-06:00

I made this hat. (instead of cleaning my room.)

It's pretty hard core. (says the stay at home Mormon mom.)

word.

Today I will crochet a hat.

2012-01-26T12:57:00.001-06:00

So I am an amateur crocheter which means I know just enough about crochet to make home-made gifts for friends and loved ones but not quite enough to make home-made gifts that friends and loved ones actually like. This has made for some awkward Christmases where I think I have done the most awesome present and feel really good about myself and all the hours and love I've put into this gift and my friends and loved ones feel really bad for me and try to act happy and pleased with their semi-terrible scarf or flat-out laughable crocheted stuffed animal.

Brett keeps telling me to stop making home-made gifts. (In fact he flat-out refuses to let me crochet anything for his side of the family.) He says they aren't things that people ever actually wear unless they are 100% positive they will bump into you that day. And even then they have to convince themselves to wear that thing just this one time.

So to find out how terribly magnificent my homemade gifts are, I will make myself a hat. And if I can wear it out in public because I actually like it I will know that I am truly a successful home-made present giver after all.

But if I am embarrassed to wear it out in public, I will secretly know I should stop making home-made gifts. But I will still wear it and tell Brett how truly awesome I am. Just to make a point.

Either way it doesn't look likely that the home made gifts will ever stop. So if I ever draw your name in the annual Christmas swap we should start doing you know what you have to look forward to.

49 Questions Your Spouse Will Answer.

2012-01-20T13:39:00.000-06:00

So I was on pinterest and I came across this blog post with 50 questions to ask your spouse. And as I was reading through it I was imagining how Brett would react if I tried to ask him any of these. And huge eyerolls abounded. And then he tried to get up to leave. And then he fell asleep.

So here is a list of 49 questions my Spouse will actually answer without any serious eyerolling.

1. Do you want a shoulder massage?
2. Did I do anything that annoyed you today/this week?
3. Would you ever consider taking a (insert hobby) class with me?
4. What could I do for you that would make you interested in taking a (insert hobby) class with me?
5. Would you like me to scratch your back?
6. Do you like your classes/ job?
7. If you could change anything about your class/ job what would it be?
8. Do you want spaghetti for dinner?
9. Would you like to help me make dinner?
10. You're a great dad, you know?
11. What would you do if I ever died?
12. Do you know all of my passwords in case I died?
13. Have you been working out?
14. Have you lost weight?
15. Where do you see yourself in 10 years?
16. Where would you like to travel with me?
17. What would you like for dessert?
18. What is your favorite way to eat chocolate?
19. If we were stranded on a deserted island, and you died before we were rescued, and I was
starving, would you mind if I ate you?
20. Could you eat me if you were starving to death and I was already dead and you had no other
alternative?
21. Would you like me to put the kids to bed?
22. If you could change the color of the sky, what would you choose?
23. Would you rather design a sky scraper in New York City or a high end Casino in Vegas?
24. Would you like to watch a movie with me?
25. Would you like to pick the movie?
26. What are 5 of your favorite all-time movies?
27. Why do you think my 5 all-time favorite movies are dumb?
28. If you could change one thing about your body, what would it be?
29. Do you want to hear a joke?
30. Why did the toilet paper roll down the hill?
31. What is your favorite way to make popcorn?
32. Would you like to hang out with the boys this weekend?
33. Did you finish your homework?
34. Is there anything we need to get at the store?
35. Do you mind if I vacuum in here really quick?
36. Did you get a haircut?
37. Would you like some milk with your cookies?
38. Do you think I would make a good exotic dancer?
39. Do you want to arm wrestle?
40. Is our home fortified against a zombie attack?
41. What is the worst thing that as ever happened to you?
42. Would you be able to cut through your own arm if it was caught under a boulder and you would
die if you didn't sever it?
43. What horror movie would be the worst to have to live through?
44. Do you want to answer 5 more questions and then have sex?
45. Who do you think is the most amazing, beautiful woman in the world?
46. What song do you think best represents our relationship?
47. Will you buy me that purse I've been eyeing for the last month?
48. Will you fix the broken handle on the Honda?
49. Will you watch the kids tonight during girls' night out?

top 10 reasons I hate the Gym.

2012-01-14T23:54:00.001-06:00

In no particular order, I just started at 10 to throw you off and make you think that #1 was going to be this huge epiphmatic™ moment. (BTdubs, epiphmatic™ is a %100 Kristina word. You may use it as you wish. Just remember to include the ™ whenever you say it. You know, in your head.)

10. There are Lions.
I know I shouldn't let this bother me, but c'mon, LIONS? They are bronze statues, standing majestically on this great fountain that pours down into a goldfish and turtle pool. Don't get me wrong, love the fish. Love the turtles. But the 8 feet tall lions I could do without. Maybe they are there to remind me that unless I lose some poundage I will always just be a tasty lion snack. Or maybe they are there to add some class. Because nothing screams "CLASSY GYM!" Like 8 foot bronze lions.

9. Sheridan's Frozen Custard
Is practically built in the gym parking lot. That way you can 1. Think about all the Frozen Custard you aren't eating because you are trying to be a skinny fit person or 2. Hate yourself as you bury your cellulite-induced woes in 3 heavenly scoops of creamy, delicious frozen custard. With Hotfudge, raspberries and whipping cream. And pecans. I'll take 2 please.

8. Work-out clothes make me look fat.

Can't they just bald-face-lie like my regular clothes do?

7. People expect me to work out when I'm there.
Seriously, can't I just go to the gym, drop my kids off at the daycare and read a book on the nice squooshy couch in the locker room? Stop judging me!!

6. It is full of skinny fit people.
Who are secretly judging me. When I go to the gym I don't want to be surrounded by beautiful women with perfect hair and make-up. Shoot, I don't even want a Robin Sherbatsky who is wearing sweats and no make-up but still has a perfect body so she can get away with it. I want to go to the gym and be surrounded by sweating fat people, who will look over at me on the treadmill, give a little wave and psychically tell me, "I feel you girl. I hate this right now. I would totally be in the locker room reading a book on the nice squooshy couch except people expect me to work out when I'm here."

4. Constant reminders of my grandma-esque physique
Remember when I naively ran that 5k? And the slowest grandma on the planet casually jogged past me? Well getting shown-up by grandma once is enough humiliation for a life-time. But apparently I feed on constant humiliation. I attend a step-class (which I love to hate) that is full of 1. skinny fit people 2. grandmas 3. pregnant ladies and 4. ME. And guess who leaves the risers out of her steps? Nope, not the grandmas. It's the pregnant ladies. BECAUSE THEY ARE 8 MONTHS PREGNANT. Oh yeah, and ME TOO. Because I'm 33 months POST PREGNANT. I can't handle that extra 4 inches in my step. Ask me again when I'm in my late 70s because hopefully by then I'll be able to hack it.

3. It is full of witnesses to my failure.
So today I did the P90x Kenpo DVD. Wait, no I didn't. I did about 30 minutes of the P90x Kenpo DVD. And then I got bored and decided I didn't want to do it anymore, and so I stopped. (and consequently sat down and drank some chocolate milk.) Guess who cared and noticed?? NO ONE! (well actually my 4 year old daughter did say, "Mom, You're missing your exercises!" But I accept the fact that she knows I am overweight and undermotivated.) NO ONE! Where as at the gym, you get on those eliptical machine deals, do about 10 minutes and think, eh. I don't want to do this anymore. So you step down and the grandma on the machine next to you raises an eyebrow and thinks loud enough for everyone in the room to hear, "really lady? 10 minutes? on an eliptical? is that all you got?" And you weakly stutter in thought response, "oh, oh, I was just uh, heading on over to the treadmill instead." and grandma smiles smugly. "don't kid me hunny, I've seen you run. I'm the old biddy that lapped you that last 5k. SUCKAH!"

2. I feel unconnected to my children when I'm there.
My kids like to go to the gym. They beg to go there. So I drop them off at the Kid's club and they run off sqeeing in delight. "I love the gyyyyyyyym!!" WHO ARE YOU??? Can I continue rearing children with such a backwards philosophy on voluntary physical exertion? I don't know if this is going to work out.

1. I could only think of 9.
But "top 9 reasons I hate the Gym" just sounded stupid. Okay I lied. I only thought of 8.

Why the new Ender's Game movie is STUPID.

2012-01-11T21:38:00.003-06:00

I read Ender's Game for the first time when I was 11 years old. It was instantly my favorite book (still is) and like anyone who read it as a kid (who am I kidding, just like anyone who has EVER read it) I immediately wanted to be a part of that book. In the battle room. Kickin' butt with Ender Wiggin.

My older brother told me they were thinking of making it into a movie and me, the ever excitable pretweener filled my days dreaming of playing a role in the film. I was too old to play Petra - the only girl at battle school - but I would be ok playing Valentine, or they could make up a new role for me. Or if worse came to worst I could always be an extra. There was no doubt in my mind I would have been cast for this movie. It was my destiny.

But of course there was no movie. They were all dirty rotten rumors.

The internet started to exist, and I am sure I was one of the first inhabitants of Hatrack River - back when it was an extensive forum with no members because no one had the internet. And then something beautiful happened - they were going to make the Ender's Game movie, but for real this time. I knew it was true because I read it on an internet forum. I think I was 14. And although I was technically too old to be in battle school, most likely they would have to hire an older cast anyway, right? What 6 year old could successfully pull off Ender Wiggin? I was back in the game. I would be in this movie.

THE INTERNET LIES. There was no movie. Not that year, or the next year, or the next. And so I grew up, and I grew up content knowing that although I would never be in battle school, although I would never fly through the air and shoot little light lasers and freeze peoples limbs or play in flight simulators or be in the Dragon Army, neither would anyone else.

Until today when I find out that Asa Butterfield will fly.
Hailee Steinfeld will shoot laser guns.
Aramis Knight will go to battle school, courtesy of Sister Carlotta.
And Harrison Ford will take them there.

And me, Kristina Foutz, who once as an 11 year old girl was guaranteed the leading girl-child role in the movie (seriously, I was a total shoe-in) is left out in the cold. Alone. Too old to go to battle school.

So even though technology and movie-making magic has finally gotten to a place that will make this movie possible, and even though Harrison Ford is one of my favorite people ever, and even though I will definitely go see it, it is 100%- undeniably -for sure gonna be dumb. Cause I am not in it.

The True Story of the Last Thanksgiving.

2011-12-12T21:38:00.002-06:00

Once upon a time in a far-away, dreary land, a young family struggled to get by. The economy was bad at this time, but luckily the family remained mostly untouched as the father and husband of this family was still a full-time student and didn't have time for a real job anyway. Don't misunderstand, he was a very hard worker and he still had a job, just not the kind of job that really gets affected by the economy. So though the family struggled, they worked hard, had a lot of love and recognized the blessings in their life. They truly had a lot to be thankful for.
As the 4th Thursday of November inched closer and closer, this young family's thoughts turned to their blessings, and the traditional feast in which they would indulge to near vomiting. Normally the family would travel to celebrate with their relatives, but this year they would remain in the far-away dreary land that they currently inhabited. Several generous dinner invites were extended towards this family but Father, being wearied with work and school, decided that this year he would like to over-indulge in his own home, surrounded by the loving comfort of his wife and two small children. Mother, hearing this plan, suggested they order-out chinese. But Father insisted it would not truly be the blessed occasion of thankfulness without the traditional basting and roasting of a delicious turkey. Several pans of rolls. A few pumpkin pies and mashed potatoes. Mother, loving her own traditions from childhood, couldn't bear the thought of eating showing gratitude without her beloved sweet potato casserole, green beans and pecan pie. And so they set about making an entirely over the top dinner for only 2 adults and 2 children under the age of 5.
Father did the shopping. It was obvious that one turkey would not be enough for his family, for Father wished to have a jalapeno injected turkey -- something that his children would find undesireable. It was therefore requisite to purchase 2 turkeys. A 15 lb turkey for his wife and 2 small ones, and a 6 lb boneless turkey for himself. The night before the blessed event, he injected his turkey, so that it could marinate through the night.
"But Father!" cried Mother, "What of the 15 lb turkey? Did you not purchase an injection kit for the family turkey?"
"Why no," replied Father. "I thought you could eat a boring turkey while I made my own personal fancy awesome one."
"This does bring me great displeasure," Mother sighed.
"Do not worry Mother," replied Father. "A delicious injection we will make in the morning. Already it is growing late, and truly all you need to make a magnificent turkey is butter. Let us wait until tomorrow. I will make some pumpkin pie."
So Father made not one, but two pumpkin pies. And a chocolate cream pie. Although he had purchased the wrong type of jell-o for the chocolate cream pie, mother tried not to be wroth with him. Mother managed to make a slightly over-cooked pecan pie. She was a little unhappy because she did not like pumpkin pie. And her beloved pecan pie was ruined.
"It is not ruined," declared Father, plucking several pecans out of the top of her pie. "It is delicious!" But now it was missing several pecans off of the top. "By the way, I am going golfing in the morning."
Mother tried not to think of Chinese food as she slipped off to sleep.

When she woke in the morning, Father was gone. And her two dear children were covered in chocolate cream and pecans. Mother tried not to be angry, but she was. For she was not good at making pie crusts, she didn't have any more, and the only two pies she liked eating were now ruined. The turkey remained un-injected, the greenbeans un-braised, the potatos unmashed and the sweet potato uncasserolled. The two dear children went crying into the tub.

Mother busied herself with the rolls first, giving them plenty of time to thaw and rise while the turkey cooked. She placed the prepared pans of rolls on top of the stove, where the heat of the oven would help them rise. Then she took the turkey out of the fridge and wrestled it into the sink. It seemed much bigger than before. She realized she had never actually cooked a turkey before, and was a little dismayed when she finally had to resort to scissors to get it out of the netting even though the turkey clearly stated, "easy open! no scissors/ cutting required!"

Raw turkeys are disgusting. Mother began rinsing the turkey off because it seemed like the right thing to do.

Now her dear children were out of the tub, and their shiny, dripping bodies bounded all around the house, up and off the couch, in and out of the kitchen.

"Please settle down, my dears!" she lilted sweetly. Mother never yells at her children.

Brother climbed up onto the couch. Mother watched terrified as he began to lose his balance, and came tumbling off the arm of the couch, his arms reaching out wildly to catch a hold of anything. They caught onto the floor lamp, which instead of steadying him came crashing down along with him. The glass bowl of the lamp crashed suddenly into Sister's head, exploding dead bugs all over Sister and the kitchen floor. Both children let out terribly squeals of pain and fright. Mother, only a little covered in turkey goo, gathered them up into her arms, cradling them together, trying to comfort them. After a few minutes, the tears finally subsided.

"Is everyone okay?"

"Yes!" They wailed together. Mother pulled them away from her body, then looked horror-stricken at daughter's face, smeared and streaked with blood. Mother's shirt was likewise afflicted, as well as brothers neck and shoulder. After a terrible search she finally located it's source, an angry, lamp-bowl shaped gash on Sister's crown. Both kids went back into the bath, and Mother googled what kinds of head wounds required stitches.

Finally, once everyone's head wounds had been cleaned and doctored, children were dressed and watching the Macy's day parade, Mother went back to her turkey. The turkey should have been in the oven an hour and a half ago, and was still un-injected.

"Un-injected it must remain," thought Mother. And she went off again to google what would be a quicker, easier way to season the turkey.

A few sticks of butter, some salt, pepper, garlic and 35 minutes later, Mother contemplated the best way to get her true butter ball into the roasting bag. She wasn't sure quite how it happened, only that instead of gliding safely into the bag, the turkey somehow wound up on the floor. In a pile of bugs that had been expelled from the broken homicidal lamp.

Mother tried not to cry as she wrestled the turkey back into the sink, rinsed off all the bugs (and coincedentally all the butter, garlic, salt and pepper as well.) 30 minutes later she managed to get the turkey in the bag, and the bag in the oven. She was only 2 and half hours behind schedule. She only had 3 more dishes to prepare. She was only covered in minimal amounts of turkey goo, bugs and blood. She didn't really need to eat pie on Thanksgiving. Father shouldn't have picked this moment to walk in the door.

Mother was a raving monster. Father couldn't understand all she said but a few key phrases included "stupid pumpkin pies," "your own personal turkey," and "chinese food."

At that moment the rolls exploded. And instead of cleaning up the debris in her kitchen, mother took a shower.

And that is the true story of how Thanksgiving stopped being a tradition in the Foutz household.

Congrats on being our biggest fan - PSYCH!

2011-11-08T23:00:00.000-06:00

That is a very clever post title. Mostly because I'm talking about Psych, Psych's biggest fan, and the fact that Psych's biggest fan got Psyched into being congratulated for being Psych's biggest fan.

Stay with me here.

Meet Cynthia. Cynthia is about the coolest person I know. She's an awesome friend, a fantabulous wife, a glorious mother of 4 and Psych's biggest fan. She's not a crazy, camp-out in front of James Roday's house hoping to get a photo of him in his jammers type of fan; she's the better kind. The not-crazy, owns every season of Psych on DVD (even though you can stream them on netflix these days), has cooked and or enjoyed all those goodies mentioned in the show (jerk chicken, funyuns, pineapple, pineapple upside down cake, pineapple not-so-upside-down cake, crazy pineapple platter, pineapple dumplings, cinnamon pie, and fries quatro quesos dos fritos [okay the fries was me, got to put my own plug in somewhere]), knows all of Guster's nicknames, can quote any episode, can correctly identify the episode of any quote, plays Psych games online to garner points for her favorite university (who won that little contest by the way) and I'm sure I messed up my punctuation somewhere in this sentence (that last one was me too. In case it got confusing.) type of fan. You know the nice type of fan. The 'you don't want to send them to jail' type of fan. The type of fan you want to reward with tickets to the Psych Fan Appreciation Day (henceforth known as PFAD pronounced fad, as in 1.a practice or interest followed for a time with exaggerated zeal . or 2. [which we are going to try and think of every time we use PFAD as in fad as in] a personal idiosyncrasy or whim). Which someone DID DO! Good job, the plot thickens.

BECAUSE although she got tickets, Cynthia didn't go to the PFAD. Because Cynthia lives in Texas. And the PFAD was in New York City.

This poses a small problem for an awesome friend, a fantabulous wife, and a glorious mother of 4. Because although Cynthia is Psych's biggest fan, she is those other things first and foremost. And those other things make her a nice type of fan and not a 'send her to jail' type of fan. So we like those things about her.

And so, because Cynthia chose to feed her children for the next month instead of buying a plane ticket and a couple nights' stay in a Manhattan hotel, she put on a brave face and watched her precious PFAD slip out of her fingers.

A travesty. A terrible sad, terrible travesty. I will now further illustrate this travesty with rich allegorical imagery.

Imagine a beautiful cake. A beautiful pineapple shaped cake (it can even be a pineapple cake if you are into that). And someone offers you this beautiful pineapple-shaped cake that may or may not be an actual pineapple cake. And as you reach out to take this delicious, most wonderful cake, some doofenshmirtz named Reality steps up and hulk smashes the cake to the floor. And then dances on it in a very rude and frankly poorly choreographed jazz number. And all you can think about is how delicious that cake would have been, how amazing it looked, how tempting it was, how you almost got to taste it. Almost. But you didn't. Because doofenshmirtz over there can't dance. And he's can't dancing on your perfect perfectly perfection cake.

The worst part? Cynthia didn't even tell her friends about it until it was too late. The PFAD had died out (that was a clever reference to definition 1. of fad, in case you missed it) before we even knew about it. And we are awesome friends, so you can bet that had we known about the cake (er, the PFAD) and the doofenshmirtz (reality) we would have put together an impressive offense and I would have personally punched reality in the face before it even got near the cake and then we would have all kicked it while it was down. But Cynthia is the nice kind of fan, and an awesome kind of friend who didn't want to worry her friends about something we had no control of. Because she knew we would worry.

maybe one that looks less like an oven mitt.

Well she was right. When we found out, we DID worry. And even though it's a month later, and even though the PFAD is gone and dead, and even though obladi obladah, Psych goes on. And it's time to show reality what's what. So if there is any decency in the Psychverse, here my plea. Reward Psych's biggest nice fan. Appreciate Psych's biggest nice fan. Try and make up for the PFAD that never was. I want to see t-shirts. I want to see signed pineapple pillows. I want to see the current episode of Psych on Hulu before 30 days has past-- but most. of. all. I want to see Dule Hill tapdancing on Cynthia's doorstep holding a pineapple cake (seriously, I want to see this. So let me know before-hand so I can make it over there. And as long as no hulk-smashing is involved Dule will be perfectly safe.)

So email me if you have any Psych powers.
Please and thank you.
kriskrisfoutz@gmail.com

FINGERPAINTING!

2011-11-08T22:19:00.005-06:00

Bensen only works in the nude. It's an artist thing.

Behold. My inner nerd.

2011-10-24T21:40:00.000-05:00

I love inflicting Halloween costumes on my children. Juliet was old enough this year to decide what she wanted to be for Halloween. Bensen wasn't. But I am afraid he will be old enough next year -- so this might be my last epic Halloween costume.

Enjoy.

So I ran 5k. Again.

2011-10-20T16:03:00.000-05:00

Sorry this post is so over-due -- life got kind of crazy these last few weeks, but I did want to take a moment to write about my experience running the Susan G. Komen 5k. I had a lot of support from friends and family, and some great donations from loved ones and even folks I don't know. It is neat seeing people come together to help make a difference, and I feel like we did.

I am going to tell you the story of my 5k. And I want you to know that even though this was a struggle for me, I know that other's have real struggles in their lives, that those who have fought and are fighting cancer know how hard, lonely and awful it can be. I don't want my whiney post about hating to run to in anyway belittle that fight.

So. October 1st, 2011 I awoke early, got ready for my 5k, drove out to the starting point and waited for that gun to fire and send me off into delirious running oblivion.

Honestly, running that 5k was the hardest, loneliest, most awful thing I have ever done. I have to admit, if running a 5k was the hardest, loneliest, most awful thing I have ever done, I have had a pretty easy life. And I have. When I finally finished the 5k and sat down in my car I texted Brett "running that 5k was the hardest, loneliest, most awful thing I have ever done." And now I will tell you why.

So I get there early, mainly because I get nervous when I go into a situation I'm not familiar with and I want to take stock of my surroundings and feel out what I'm supposed to be doing. And also because I didn't have any safety pins to pin my number on my shirt and I thought they'd probably have some and I wanted to get there early enough to find some. Mission accomplished. At any rate, there are a billion people there. In tiny groups, in big groups, couples, families, dogs (who weren't supposed to be there, shame on you!) and me. Kristina Foutz. All alone in the middle of this giant shifting kaleidoscope of people. And everyone is staring at me. And pointing. And one lady whispered loudly, "look at that doofenshmirtz here all by herself. Didn't she know when you come to run 5,000 miles you bring your entire extended family?" And then some people laughed and I tried to slink away but a huge spot light came down right on top of me and the guy on the stage said, "and we have a solo runner! Does anyone want to pretend to be her friend?" and even more people laughed.

Yep, I was waiting for that gun to go off and secretly hoping it would just shoot me in the face and put me out of my misery.

So somewhere far away we hear the gun shot and people start milling in a general direction. So I start milling that way too. Occasionally some guys in tube socks and wife beaters elbow their way through, trying to actually run in this mass of barely moving tiny groups, big groups, couples, families, dogs (who weren't supposed to be there, shame on you!) and me. I start feeling a little guilty because, well, I'm supposed to run the 5k right? But secretly I am relieved that it's impossible to run without being a major douche, and since I forgot my tube socks and wife beater at home I can take out the first k at my preferred pace. Slug.

The crowd starts to thin out and I realize I need to start running if I am ever going to get out of the walkers so I start running. Here's something depressing I learned -- my run pace is not much faster than most people's walk pace. So now that I am working twice as hard, I'm still not passing anyone. I'm as depressed as a little blue hornbill, imprisoned in some animal's ribcage, singing "I have got a lovely bunch of coconuts" (have you caught the reference yet or do I need to keep going?) to a surly lion who has usurped his brother's kingdom by murdering him and convincing the true heir that he was at fault and must run away or he will be hated by his mother and whole family. Who's name was Simba. From the LION KING. (I took you all the way there in case you didn't catch it)
Anyway, so I'm depressed. And running (very slowly) alone. This goes on for a couple more k, and up around the corner I see a bunch of bored looking cheerleaders. As I start to round the corner, they suddenly start to perk up and start doing a cute little cheer. I smile and wave at the cheerleaders, feeling my heavy heart grow a bit lighter. Two of the girls yell out "Keep up the good work! We love you grandma!"

I watch in horror as the most ancient lady I have ever seen passes me by, smiling and waving at the cheerleaders who continue to cheer her on. She goes around the corner and the girls all sit down again, bored.

So yes, I do run slower than a 90 year old grandma. This is too much for me. I finally turn the corner, leaving the dumb cheerleaders out of sight, and I walk. Because I ran a 5k the day before, and apparently you just aren't supposed to do that.

As I am walking, I look down a road and see more of the race. I can just cut through this block and take a whole k and half out of my run. It is beyond tempting. I see someone else who had the same idea turn down into the shortcut. This means it's okay, right? I can do it too? It doens't matter that he's carrying his shoes and his feet are bleeding, we're pretty much in the same situation, right?

I decide not to take the shortcut. Still not sure why I decided that.

So I start running again. I knew I was getting to the end because I could see other people, much more fit than I, running back towards me - searching for loved ones lost along the way. No one is running back for me, so I press on. Suddenly, I see the finishline! And there, between me and that last kilometer of race, is my beautiful white honda, waiting right where I parked it. So I veered off the track, hopped into my car, and drove home (picking up donuts on the way.)

Or I finished the race, and walked back to my car. You decide. Either way, donuts were involved.

Today I ran 5k.

2011-09-30T23:36:00.003-05:00

10:30 p.m. - I wanted to thwart the sun's evil plan to destroy me with warm sunshiney rays and get up before sunrise to do my 5k. So I decided to go to bed early.

1:30 a.m. - Woken up to Brett's pleas for help. Juliet, after two days straight of cake and icecream, rebels against all the fun and sugar by throwing up noisily and messily in her bed. Bensen thankfully sleeps through it. I miss my washer and dryer desperately.

2:00 a.m. - Back to bed.

5:00 a.m. - Brett is yelling again. I get up to investigate. He is still up working on his project. He is yelling at the computer. I am annoyed. Back to bed.

6:30 a.m. - Brett finally comes to bed. Dude is crazy. But at least his project is done!

7:00 a.m. - Alarm goes off. I can hear Bensen awake, playing in the bathroom. I do not want to get up.

7:30 a.m. - Get out of bed. Get dressed. Neti my nose (seriously that thing is a lifesaver)

7:45 a.m. - start my run. Bob Marley's 3 little birds play, and although there aren't any birds on my doorstep, I do look out at the rising sun, and get a bit of a giggle.

My run:

a: Bob Marley is still playing, and I actually run past Bob Marley.

b: I am running without any ID and there is this little bridge here that doesn't have a sidewalk. I start imagining that I get hit by a car and fall down in this reservoir. I am too weak to crawl out. I rig my cellphone so that it becomes a tracking signal and attempt to flag down the doctor. For a moment I forget that Doctor Who is a fictional tv show I have been watching entirely too much of recently.

c: run into Bob Marley again, only this time he triest to hand me some literature about his bible study group. normally I would love to hang around, chat, and let him down easy. But I am already hating my life with more than 3 k to go. I breeze right past him saying (probably shouting because I am wearing earbuds) "I have a bible that I read thank you!" Poor Bob Marley. His song is way over, and "Riders on the storm" doesn't make me want to stop for anyone. I skipped most of it.

d: run past Justine's house. I feel sad, because Justine has lived here for a year now and we should have been best friends but I stink at making friends and I just never put any effort into it. She is moving far away this week. Also a little mexican man starts walking towards me. But he doesn't try to hand me literature about his bible study group, so I like him well enough and huff out a "morning" as I wobble by and think it is funny that I am listening to Bambaleo while I run past a mexican.

e: I must have blacked out because I do not remember running down this street at all.

f: around k 3 I start thinking that I will cut across the green line labeled f and go home. It was a great idea, but for some reason I didn't do it.

g: I remember imagining getting hit by a car near the beginning of my run and now I hope with all my might I will accidentally run into the free way and get killed instantly by oncoming traffic. But for some reason I didn't do it. My ipod is playing "Why do I keep counting" but all I hear is "Why do I keep running"

h: must have blacked out again.

i: This is a funny ol stretch of road. Last month when I started "running" I couldn't get up it and back down to my house again without wanting to die, and now I am running down it as the last k in my 5k. Granted, your athletic grandma could outrun me at this point, but c'mon, that's some progress!
I decide to walk for a minute but there are these movers staring at me so I decide not to. They watch me the whole rest of the street so I can't walk or they will know how fat I am. For some reason this made me think of my brother Daniel, ducking behind a bush after a short sprint so noone would see him panting. He is in much better shape now and can bike hundreds of miles. I can barely run 3.

j: I start halucinating. I see a man on a motorcycle and think it is Justin Pratt. I know it isn't Justin Pratt because Justin Pratt is dead. I know that I am hallucinating because Justing Pratt isn't dead, he's just in UT. Justin Pratt the undead motorcycle guy speeds away.
But I'm on the homestretch now, and "Major Tom" is playing, and by golly the earth below me feels like it is drifting, falling, but I am coming home.

k: I hit 5k and cry walk back to my apartment.

8:30 a.m. - Victory is mine.

I know what you are thinking, isn't the 5k tomorrow?
Why yes it is.
So why run 5k today?
To prove that I can. Just in case tomorrow I can't.

The blog entry that never was.

2011-09-28T09:42:00.001-05:00

So I had this fabu idea. See, while I run I usually think of all these amazing things I can post on my blog. Seriously they are golden. People see me running along, laughing hysterically to myself and think, "dang, that girl has got some awesome blogging ideas going on!" But then I get home, shower, take Brett to school, do something with my children, put everyone down for a nap, sit at the computer and.......... nothing! Cannot think of one golden nugget from that morning.

So yesterday I had this brilliant idea. I will take a pen and shorthand all my brilliant ideas onto my arm as I run. People see me running along, laughing hysterically to myself, scribbling all over my arm and think, "dang! that girl has really got things together! can't wait to read this blog entry!" But then I get home, shower, take Brett to school, do something with my children, put everyone down for a nap, sit at the computer and ......... since you all are higher life forms than myself I'm sure you already spotted the OBVIOUS problem. You know, the scribble all over my arm, get home, shower part?

So today I get even more brilliant and plan to write everything down the second I get home. You know, before I shower? Oh, all the best laid plans. Because today is the day I am going to run 5 whole k (because I only have 3 more practice days, EEP!) but today is also the day I get out of the house FORTY FIVE minutes later than usual. So instead of the awe-inspiringly hilarious blog entry this was supposed to be, you can enjoy today's arm scribbles.

S.I.2.H = sun is too hot

I.H.T.S = i hate the sun

T.S.I.M.M.E = the sun is my mortal enemy

I.W.K.E =
I'm actually a little ashamed of this scribble. Please keep in mind that today was supposed to be my day of total triumph. Yesterday I ran a world-record breaking time of 26 consecutive minutes (totally smashed my previous record of 10) and today I was supposed to run minimum 35 minutes, maximum whole 5k. I was going to at least complete the circuit even if I was cry walking by the end. But today, well, I ran 18 min (just over 2 k) and then I cry-walked my apples home. And in my bitter throws of agony I did not think "I want Kielbasa, Eminem!" No, no. My animosity towards running, and the sun, and delicious sausage extended to the world population.
I.W.K.E = i will kill everyone

I.W.K.E

Then a firetruck went by, and seriously
T.I.S.S.A.A.F.T = there is something sexy about a fire truck.

Cuz she's my Cuz, and she beat Cancer.

2011-09-14T10:01:00.000-05:00

I'm one of the youngest of about a billion cousins, so unfortunately most of them grew up without me. I'm finding out now how pretty awesome they are. No one has had a lot of interest in me cause I just barely started being awesome in the last year or so.

Amber is definitely one of the awesomest. She is a fighter and a survivor.
Have you joined the fight?

I asked Amber to write a little somethin' for my blog and she (because like I said, she's awesome) obliged. So listen up nuggets! (And oh my nerdiest reference I have ever made. Please tell me you don't know what that is from or I'll die of embarrassment.)
______________________________________________

I was five months shy of my 29^th birthday when I received news that rocked my world. The large lump in my right breast wasn’t a cyst. It wasn’t a clogged milk duct. It was a cancerous tumor. And it wasn’t alone. In fact, it had several nasty friends, throughout my breast, and they were plotting my demise.

The surreal feeling that followed that revelation never did really leave. Today, 8+ years later, it still seems strange to me that I’m one of those “one in eight” women that we’re always hearing about. But I am.

Several things have occurred to me since embarking on my cancer experience. I’d like to share a handful of them.

First of all, it occurred to me that we really, really, REALLY need to be careful what we wish for. I was an overly busty girl who always wished I could get a breast reduction. Boy, did I get my reduction!

Second, it occurred to me we’re, each of us, more than just a sum of our parts. My amazing husband was key to putting that fact into perspective for me. His unconditional love and devotion carried me through the emotional turmoil of the flat chest and the bald eyebrows and the shiny head. He saw ME. He helped me to see ME, too. In turn, I now try to see others as they really are, not just as a sum of what I can see…their parts, but as a whole, divine creature.

Third, it occurred to me that there’s a certain coolness about having had breast cancer, especially having it so young. Pink ribbons are trendy. Facebook makes the news for breast cancer awareness gimmicks. Celebrities have famously battled the disease. We even have our own month. Breast cancer awareness is hip! I love it. I hate it.

I love it because I own stock in it, now. I’m invested. If they find a cure, I won’t have to worry about my daughters (I have 3) or my sisters (I have 4) or my other much-loved women (I have hundreds!) having to go through what I did. I wouldn’t have to worry about it coming back. That would be nice.

I hate it because I know SO many people who have struggled with cancer…skin cancer, lung cancer, bone cancer, brain cancer, lymphoma, leukemia, testicular cancer, oh, and a handful with breast cancer. I hate that breast cancer seems to be THE cancer, the popular cancer that gets all the attention. Cancer is Cancer. All cancer is scary. One in three people will get it in their lifetime. I wish we could take the enthusiasm surrounding breast cancer awareness and support and apply it universally to ALL cancer. I’m so grateful for events like the ACS Relay for Life. It’s an event where no particular cancer is in the lime light. We unite and battle ALL cancer, and celebrate ALL survivors.

Finally, it occurred to me that I don’t mind being a survivor. Having cancer was a scary, difficult experience, but it’s one of many experiences that have made me who I am. I wouldn’t undo it if I could. Also, I have to admit…I got a pretty nice rack out of the deal. Yes, they’re fake, but I don’t mind. I actually really want someone to comment on them, some day so I can quote an awesome t-shirt I once saw: “Yes, they’re fake. My real ones tried to kill me!” I don’t mind that I no longer get the sore shoulders and back that my double E’s used to give me. I don’t mind that gravity has lost some of its pull on “the girls”. I don’t mind that I’m still alive and kicking. I don’t mind that I am able to watch my two little girls become two beautiful young women. I don’t mind that I was able to (with a little help from my hubby) bring three more gorgeous, brilliant, lively, wonderful children into our family. I don’t mind that I savor life just a little bit more than I used to. It’s a good life.

An Update, an illegal video, and a flavor seizure.

2011-09-07T19:45:00.001-05:00

1. Update

I can now run 2 miles. Apparently I couldn't before now. I want to kill myself. Literally. In a non-literal kind of way. Go donate -- don't make me suffer for no reason!!!

2. I made this illegal video.

3. A flavor Seizure.

Credit where credit is due. It was Brett's idea. But I did most of the work. And it was a lot of work. And they were totally delicious.

Can you say labor day tradition? 3X fast?

Will work for donations.

2011-09-05T21:32:00.003-05:00

The Fine Print: Raffle is open from 9/5/2011 until 9/28/2011 at 11:59 CST. To enter click the link below (PayPal account not required) or send payment via PayPal to kriskrisphotography@gmail.com. Minimum number of entrants required (okay it's a tiny minimum but still!), so pass the word! There are no limits to the number of times you enter. Winner will be notified before midnight on 9/29/2011 via email. Included photography services are 1 hour of photography coverage by Kristina, disc or emailed files of ten (10) digital negatives with personal printing license agreement, and travel within Salt Lake and Utah Counties (UT), Lubbock County (TX), Sacramento County (CA), Boise and Ada Counties (ID) on any non-holiday date Kristina has available between 9/30/2011 and 12/31/2012

If you have any questions or concerns, please feel free to email me at kriskrisphotography@gmail.com or leave a comment below.

For a sample of my work please visit my facebook page.

Kristina walks 5000 miles (to kick cancer in the face)

2011-09-01T00:53:00.002-05:00

I am running a 5k on October 1st to help raise money to find the cure for breast cancer, and I am going to ask for your money now so that you don't get distracted by my long-winded post and never make it to the end where I ask you to sponsor me and make a donation.

You can donate here.

We will now return to my irregularly scheduled blog.

So you know how I posted almost a year ago now that I started running? (of course you don't, you only recently started reading my blog because you googled Jimmy Fallon and for some reason this popped up.) Anyway about a year ago I posted that I had started running. Well it was a lie esteven. A lie! I did run off and on for maybe 3 weeks. And when I say run what I mean is that I ran for about 3 minutes and then cry-walked for 5 minutes, and then ran for 3 more minutes and then cry-walked for 5 more minutes, and after 30 minutes I leaned against a tree, threw up, and asked my husband to come get me, where ever I was (about a block from home, usually.)

Well every year 5k time starts rolling around and for some reason I think, "Yeah, that is something I want to do!" probably because I am a tiny bit masochistic. Anyway I get this idea that I'm going to be a runner, and then I run maybe 2 or 3 times, and then the 5k draws closer and I think, "WTHeck dude, I'm not paying $30 to do something I hate." And so I don't.

Well 5k season is coming around again. And I'm starting to get the itch. But I'm trying to be more realistic this time around. I don't want to pay $30 to do something I hate. And then it strikes me like a lightning bolt.

People don't actually pay $30 to do something they hate (although some people do like it, but they aren't paying $30 to do something they like either, cause running is usually free.)

Yes I am dumb. It had never occurred to me that my $30 was going to cancer research. Or whatever your 5k was for, but you get my point. And in case you didn't, I will make it one more time. In bold. With a larger font.

I'm not paying $30 to do something I hate, I am paying $30 to kick Cancer in its FACE.

And thus I have found incentive to go out and do this. So for the first time in my 28 years, I actually registered to run 5k to show breast cancer what's what.

Now I just have one problem. I can run 2 miles, but that is about it. I've been told that if I can run 2 miles now, then there's no reason I shouldn't be able to run 5k in one month. But honestly peeps, I can't see myself being able to run 5 thousand miles EVER. Let alone in 1 month! So I need help. I need you to keep me motivated. Because I don't mind squandering my $30 and not showing up for the race, but I could never squander other peoples' monies.

Give me your money.

I mean donate your money to the cause. And donate it here, under my name, so I know that someone out there is holding me accountable to not only kick cancer in it's face through monetary donation, but to tread over it in my sweet nikes as I cross the finish line (even though I will probably be cry-walking long before mile 4,999 rolls around.)

Now if you can't donate, I get that. We are broke except for the few months right after student loans come in (which correspond perfectly with 5k season) so there have been plenty of times that "the cause" has come around and I've had to close the door and curtains in shame because I had nothing to offer. First I will say, if you have $5, we'll take $5. If you don't have $5, you obviously at least have the internet. So pass it on. My "Dear Jimmy Fallon" post was viewed 2,240 times. That is NUTS. And that was something that ultimately only affected ME. So I thought, what if we could get this post circulated 2,240 X? What if 1 in 10 people donated a measly $5? That would be over $1,000. And since my goal is only $100 (reach for the stars Kristina!) that would beyond blow me away. In the face of our communal wrath, cancer doesn't stand a chance.

I would run 2,500 miles, and I would run 2,500 more just to be the (wo)man who ran 5,000 miles to fall down at Susan G. Komen's door (with an armload of your breast cancer fighting money).

**I am sure there are a number of you worried that I think a 5k is 5 thousand miles. Don't worry, I know perfectly well that a 5k is actually kilometers, not 5,000 miles. But 5,000 kilometers is pretty far too!

Tickle->Bug->Shudder->Spasm Reflex.

2011-08-28T19:40:00.002-05:00

I'd say most people learn the Tickle->Bug->Shudder->Spasm Reflex at a young age. The reaction is almost identical among all homo-sapiens. One feels a tickle, automatically imagines the bug most likely to be the culprit of the terrible sensation, shudders and reflexively kicks, flicks, flings or whips the limb or body part where the sensation was felt. It is a learned behavior, though the insect (or arachnid) that teaches each person this behavior is different from subject to subject. For my husband it is spiders (Tickle-> SPIDER -> shudder -> spasm). For me it is cockroaches (Tickle-> COCKROACH ->shudder -> spasm). It takes only one encounter with an insect to ingrain this reflex into a person for life, and years of therapy and self-degradation to rid oneself of this reflex.

As I mentioned, the culprit of my imprinting experience was a cockroach. I believe I was in first grade at the time. I was wearing my super stylish ked slip-ons (my go-to school shoe for 12 years) when I felt a tickle in the arch of my foot. What was that crazy sensation? I tried tapping my foot on the ground a few times, swinging it wildly under my desk, but nothing seemed to be helping. Finally I slipped my shoe off to investigate. Nothing seemed to be on my foot. I ducked under my desk and tipped my shoe over trying to get a better look inside when a giant 3-foot cockroach crawled out of my shoe. It stared up at me for about 10 seconds as if to say "that was the worst experience of my life." I stared back in horror, hopefully broadcasting a similar sentiment. I watched as it scuttled out from under my desk and across the classroom floor. The rest of the school day was spent imagining tickles under my foot, thoughts of cockroaches, involuntary shudders and spasms as I took my shoes off over and over to investigate their contents. From that moment on any tickle I felt, anywhere on my body was automatically associated with a cockroach.

The problems with this reflex are:

1) it isn't remotely helpful for survival. Any poisonous insect that is close enough to tickle has probably already killed you, and any amount of spasming isn't going to reverse that.

2) it isn't remotely subtle. If you have this reflex in public everyone will notice you. It includes giant gestures and often girly squeals. You are now the embarrassed center of attention.

3) it isn't remotely accurate. 99 X out of 100 there is no bug. You have just shuddered and spasmed (and possibly wet your pants a little) in public over a stray hair, a falling leaf or some d-bag tickling your neck with a cattail.

Realizing that it would be better for my social standing to lose this reflex for life, I went through countless years of trying to overcome. Every time I felt a tickle and automatically squealed and spasmed I would berate myself. I would point out the leaf or raindrop that had startled me so, and lecture myself on the improbability that every tickle I ever felt for the rest of my life came from a cockroach. Over the years I made incredible progress. And today, I triumphed.

As I stood at the counter, dishing leftover dinner into a tupperware, I felt a small tickle on my toes. "COCKROACH!" My mind screamed frantically, but my training prevailed. I didn't shudder, I didn't spasm. I finished what I was doing and then calmly looked down to investigate what had tickled my baby toe.

A half smooshed cockroach perched there, antennae flailing wildly.

COCKROACH!-> SHUDDER!! -> SPASM!!!

I think I literally went into convulsions trying to get that thing off my foot. When it was finally flung away I unrolled half the paper towels and rolled the thing up into a ball and shoved it into my trashcan which I then tied up and took out to the dumpster. I came back in and bleached my entire leg. And yet I still feel it perched there. ***sob!!***

The Tickle->Bug->Shudder->Spasm reflex. 1% accurate. 100% necessary.

I was going to post a picture of a cocroach but I was getting the creepy crawlies just looking at them. Here is something tamer and yet obviously more deadly.

My day at Chick-Fil-A. In which I lie, steal, cheat and lose.

2011-08-27T17:56:00.002-05:00

For those of you unfamiliar with Chick-Fil-A, it is not pronounced Chick-fil-uh. It is like, Chick-fillet. It's a play on words because they are chicken fillets. You know, clever. And if you don't know how to pronounce fillet you are on your own.

So anyway. I decided to treat myself and my children to an afternoon of yummy fried chicken and sunless indoor play (it is crazy hot here.) My husband warned me that Chick-Fil-A on a Saturday at noon would be a mad house (Lubbock loves fried chicken.) but I insisted it wouldn't be THAT bad. I was so confident, in fact, that it wouldn't be so bad that I forwent a shower this morning and left the house in my pajama shirt. I did put a bra on (achievement!). So we drop Brett off at work and wander over to our local friendly Chick-Fil-Uh.

The second I pulled into the parking lot I knew I had made a terrible mistake. The drive-through line was wrapped twice around the building. There was a steady stream of people going in and out the doors. If only I'd had a survival mode, I would have driven home right then and there. But I had told my kids we were going to go play. Turning around now to save my life would most definitely destroy my sanity. There really was only one option. Time to brave the chaos.

So the line is crazy long and my kids are already egging for the play pit. I release the reins and let 'em go. I get in line. I am that annoying lady in front of you in the line who doesn't realize when it moves forward cause she is so distracted by something else. I am trying to see my kids in the play place. You keep asking me to move forward. You are annoyed.

I finally order and move out of the way. One can't wait for one's food, you have to move to the side and let 7 other people order until they finally frantically scream your name, begging you to come claim your stuff so they can start harassing other customers. I wait about 5 minutes when someone small starts to tug on my pant leg. It is Juliet. "I have to go to the bathroom" she says, and then before I can grab her she darts away between the milling masses of people. She's run the wrong direction from the bathroom, back to the play place, and now I have to hunt after her all the while worried that our food order is going to be given away to someone else if I don't hear them frantically shouting for me.

"Juliet! Get your shoes on, the bathroom is this way!"
"I don't have to go"
"You just told me you did."
"Well I don't."

Now I am that mom who yells at her kids in public and, oh please tell me you didn't, but oh yes I did, I start counting to three. I can feel "tacky" sticking to me like bad wall paper, but I don't have time to fool around. I have to get this kid in and out of the bathroom before my number is up.

Where is Bensen in all this? Oh who knows. I'm sure he is still in the restaurant somewhere.

So I get Juliet in and out of the bathroom, and back to the play place in time for Vik-ee to hollah "KRISTIN? KRISTINE? KELLY?" It looks like what I ordered so I jump on it like a vulture onto carrion (whatevs, vultures totally do jump). I peak in. I forgot to order a fruitcup in lieu of waffle fries.

LIE

"I'm missing a milk," I tell Vik-ee.
"Oh I'm so sorry. Here it is."
"Also I ordered a fruit cup with one of these kids meals."
"Oh, sorry about that."

Free fruit cup. I am a terrible person. I honestly in all honestness meant to say, "I forgot to order a fruitcup with one of these kids meals" but somehow the 'forgot' got lost and 'order' picked up a different suffix. I walked away from the register in a daze, stolen fruitcup in hand. What kind of person was I becoming?

There are no free tables in the whole restaurant. I'm feeling a bit frantic, I need to put this food down somewhere and make sure my kids are ok. I turn this way and that, and come face to face with a crying barefoot Bensen. A very nice lady is holding his hand trying to figure out what to do with him. "He's mine," I say, trying to balance my tray of food and cigarette in one hand while I grab for him. "Sorry, and thank you." The table next to me is miraculously emptying.

STEAL

I see an old lady with a handful of napkins eyeing it though I pretend not to see her. Before she can make a move I plop my baby right in the middle of the table before it's been fully evacuated, and actually scoot the fleeing families tray off the table with my own. Luckily the dad is a ninja and catches his tray before I make a real spectacle of myself. I see tears well up in the old ladies' eyes and try to suppress a smug look.

I open the pilfered fruit cup and hand Bensen a fork. Juliet, also barefoot, walks over to the table and we sit down to a nice meal together. The youngsters pop in and out at will, heading off to play and then coming back for a few quick bites. I flip through the current issue of "Guns and Ammo" idly twirling my mullet through my fingers, debating on letting it grow out or shaving it short again.

"Kristina, is that YOU?" I look up, it is one of my friends. Not a Betty from the double wide trailer type of friend -- you know, a friend you are comfortable inviting over at any time cause you know she won't judge you cause her parenting style is as bad as yours if not slightly worse? No, she is more of a June Cleaver type of friend. One of those moms who has two kids but still looks 20. Her hair is as long as mine used to be before I got frustrated and lopped it all off, but it is cute and styled in a way my hair could never even dream of being the cheap knock-off version of (wow did that sentence work? I hope the sentiment did at least.) She is cute, cool, poised and confident. And to make it even worse, she is NICE, so you can't even hate her for being so obviously better at this than you. And that is when I realized.

I AM THE BETTY FROM THE DOUBLE WIDE TRAILER FRIEND. With my pajama shirt on, my unkempt hair, my barefoot kids, my stolen fruit-cup, and my old-lady's-dream crushing ways.

CHEAT

"I'm sorry," I reply to the lovely June Cleaver. "You must have mistaken me for someone else."

LOSE

"Kristina, you're so funny. It's nice seeing you!" The angels practically whisk her away.

*for those of you worried about the stolen fruit cup, I did actually pay for it. What can I say, my parents raised me right. I cannot steal, and I cannot tell a lie. Well, I did totally steal that table from the old lady. So I guess they just mostly raised me right.

Mixing my lives--- NOOOO!!!!

2011-08-24T23:30:00.000-05:00

So I try not to post my photography business stuff on this blog because this is my family blog (ie the place where I rarely talk about my family cause I'm a narcissist) but I took my niece's bridals a few weeks ago, and since she is my niece I didn't post a gallery for her to order from, and since there wasn't a gallery there was no way for my mom to see her pictures. Or any other family member that was interested. So sorry for all those who are UNinterested.
And for those who are TOTES interested, check out my facebook page! KrisKris Photography

seven hundred and twelve photos later. . .

2011-08-20T23:16:00.000-05:00

it's national photography day! That really has nothing to do with this post, except that photography made this video possible. hurray!!

New York, Anniversary, Jimmy Fallon, Awesome

2011-08-17T19:12:00.249-05:00

Of course there's two sides to every story and today I'd like to talk about my New York trip and weigh the good with the bad in a segment I call "Pros and Cons".

Pros and Cons by The Roots

Pro Con

Seeing Times Square for the first time In the pouring rain, lugging a suitcase

and walking 2 blocks in the wrong direction.

The weather was beautiful when we landed in New York. It was nice on the bus from the airport, it looked great as we headed down into the subway station, and it was pouring when we walked back out of it. We bought 2 $3 umbrellas which during our trek to the hotel managed to keep us dry from the shoulders up. After our misadventure in the rain (walking 2 blocks in the wrong direction and passing a different subway station on our way to the hotel) Brett was banned from navigating.

Luckily this was the only time it rained during our trip and later we were able to enjoy Times Square in freshly ironed clothes.

Pro Con

Eating the best barbecue New York has to offer which isn't quite as good as Texas
barbecue. Which is where we live.

It was our first night, we were hungry, and it was close by. It was very good, but it seems silly in hindsight to go all the way to New York to eat something you can pay half as much for in your home town.

Pro Con

Getting VIP tickets to Late Night with Jimmy Fallon realizing that VIP is an acronym
for Very Inferior Peon.

I do not want any panties in a bunch over this, I am 100% incredibly unbelievably wonderfully totally inconceivably grateful that I had a guaranteed seat to LNJF. Omigoodness, BEST ANNIVERSARY EVER. I was surprised how many VIPs there were at this show. In our line we were about the 30th and 31st person. There was another line that got in before us -- by the time we got into the studio it was already half full. At this point I was feeling even more grateful we had gotten tickets, because by the time the poor sad-sack standbys shuffled in they had been waiting in lines for HOURS, and then watched the show from the hard wooden benches in the back. Not to mention the even sadder-sackier standbys who stood in line for hours and then didn't get a seat! I was sittin pretty 6 rows back.

our awesome wristbands
and the tshirt we couldn't afford to buy

Pro Con

Jimmy Fallon is my best friend. I am not even a blip on Jimmy's Radar.

Omigoodness, Jimmy came out of the curtain and pointed RIGHT AT ME! His eyes bore into mine and I could clearly read in them, "I know you, we are one." A thrill ran up and down my spine. Goosebumps! (Brett swears he was pointing at him, and apparently he had the same internal reaction. Whatevs Brett, I am clearly Jimmy's BFF). That was my moment (and probably every other person in the audiences' haha), because other than that first exit, there wasn't much more rapport with the audience. I was a little disappointed because honestly when you watch Jimmy on SNL and LNJF for years you really start to feel like he is your bestie. He is funny and unassuming and just a real cool dude. So I think deep down you think yeah, Jimmy is my friend. But when it boils down to it this is a guy who sees a new studio audience every day, face after face after face. Having a personal relationship with each and every one of them would be exhausting. Especially because many of them are probably freeeeeeeeaks. But I admit I was a little disappointed that there wasn't more give and take from Jimmy with the audience. I understand where he's coming from. In a, 'I am not a tv personality that weird girls fall in love with and weird dudes want to kill' kind of way.

I know you can't tell, but his arm is raised and pointing right at me. Or Brett. or the dude sitting next to me. Connection is in the eye of the beholder I suppose.

Pro Con

Seeing Jimmy Fallon's Beautiful Face Seeing Jimmy Fallon's beautiful behind.
(A pro in any other context)

So at the end of every show Jimmy runs up and down the aisles shaking hands and signing autographs. Brett and I were poised and ready to shake his hand when Doofenshmirtz back there ruined it aaaaaallll.

Jimmy had run up the other aisle and was coming down ours. Just as he was about to reach our row, Heinz Doofenshmirtz stands up and hands him this weird who knows what the heck it is T-Shirt. Jimmy is all, "oh wow, thanks Doofenshmirtz. I will now show this weird-A t-shirt to the camera as if I am going to treasure it rather than throw it in the goodwill bin the second I get off stage. Have fun seeing your t-shirt on a bum in two weeks." So Jimmy takes 2 steps forward to do the camera shot of the t-shirt, and totally and completely bypasses our row. We were left standing there with our hands extended like Sad-Sackians, watching Jimmy continue to shake everyone elses' hands but our own. The couple sitting next to us didn't seem that broken up about it. So we kicked their shins.

Pro Con

Lots of Nookie Too much Snooki

Don't worry, I won't go into detail. Let's just say that 5 years of marriage and 2 nights without children is a great combo. We had a gorgeous, quirky hotel in the heart of Times Square. I thought I would die in its elevator a couple of times, but as you can see, still here. Snookie brought us slippers, and since my mother taught me "If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all," and I occasionally follow that advice, I will say no more about it. We do love the semi-hideous, totes-comfy slippers though.

Holy Geez girl, close your mouth!

Joe Buck, a previous unknown to us sports-dummies, was actually an incredible guest. We liked him a lot. Jimmy also mentioned their movie Fever Pitch which we had actually watched the day before, so we felt pretty cool. Then Tig Notoro did stand-up (instead of a musical guest) and she was HILARIOUS. Jimmy was cracking up during her bit, and it was really fun seeing him being entertained. The Roots were also totally and completely unbelievable, as usual. In spite of Doofenshmirtz and the notorious Shake Shaft, the show was easily one of the best moments of our married life.

So, for all of you that helped make that happen,

T.H.A.N.K.Y.O.U

For everyone else, you suck. Hahahaha, just kidding. We love you too. We pretty much love everyone right now.

The Whole she bangs, she bangs. Sorry, unrelated Ricky Martin moment.

Worst case scenario

2011-08-06T14:22:00.003-05:00

So Brett was a little embarrassed by my smooshy (his word, not mine) anniversary post ("C'mon Kristina, no one wants to read that") So it is time to go the absolute opposite of smooshy and talk about what I painted after I produced those one of a kind, collector's itemish works of love art.

I tend to get carried away sometimes. See, we got these awesome VIP tickets to late night, and ever since then my mind has been working a mile a minute on possible amazing scenarios that could occur while we were in New York. I dream up awesome wedding crashes (which my honest husband refuses to even think of doing, BTW) or our hotel finding out it was our anniversary and comping our stay, or running into Jerry Seinfeld on the street, who then invites us home for dinner because we are just that cool and he wants to be BFFs forever (Best friends forever, FOREVER.) Less dramatic scenarios include meeting Jimmy Fallon before/after our live taping, or getting a free tour of NBC universal studios. But the point is, these kinds of things don't generally happen to regular ol' folks like us--and the more I dwell on what awesome stuff could happen, the more my hopes are raised that something totally awesome will happen, and the more I'm let down when only normal cool stuff happens (like attending a live taping of Late Night with Jimmy Fallon. HELLO!) So to try and bring my expectations back down to a normal, reasonable level, I thought up the worst case scenario. Cause if you are prepared for the worst, the ok seems pretty cool. And the water colors were still out, so why not paint it, ya know?

New York City Trip: Worst Case Scenario

Brett woke up just as I was adding the final touches to the gangbanger who was running off with his bloody dagger and our fat wad of cash (we're high rollahs). As you can imagine, he was quite horrified.

Brett: WHAT IS THAT.
Kristina (guesturing to Lovey art pasted all over the walls): I painted you happy anniversary pictures!!
Brett (pointing in disgust at the gangbanger running off with his dollahs): What is THAT.
Kristina: A gangbanger running off with your dollahs.
Brett: Why would you paint that.
Kristina: I don't want to be disappointed on this trip so I imagined the worst case scenario.
Then I painted it. Obviously.
Brett (blinking in disbelief): That is so wrong.

At this point Brett sits down at the kitchen table where Juliet, Bensen and I have been happily painting for the last hour, picks up a paintbrush and hammered out this little beauty.

New York City Trip: What would actually happen.

I guess I forgot to take into account Brett's mad Jiu-Jitzu skillz. I stand corrected.

Thank you note.

2011-08-06T13:45:00.002-05:00

Thank you, Browning Logo, for looking exactly like a man on fire.

Anniversary by Watercolors

2011-08-05T17:21:00.001-05:00

I was going to write out this really long sappy Anniversary post but honestly I'm not feeling very long and sappy. So instead I'll talk about water colors. As a happy 5th anniversary I let Brett sleep in this morning (seriously, kid was in bed til 10:30. I didn't mind though). So while Brett was sleeping the babies and I decided to water color, thus my new header, in honor of our 5 year anniversary until we get to actually celebrate our anniversary in NEW YORK CITY!

These are fully accurate representations of actual moments of our life together.

Scene 1 Scene 2 Scene3

Scene 1 depicts the moment that we knew we were in love. We held hands and gazed over the San Francisco skyline and imagined our future life. My eyes filled with tears as I painstakingly added every detail of this scene, from our hands clasped tightly, to our eyes - young, vibrant, and full of the hope of a loving and fulfilling life in each others' arms. The love we felt was nearly palpable, and I believe that anyone who sees this work of art will be able to literally feel the love in the air, floating between us as though it were a giant voluminous red heart.

Scene 2 depicts what was written upon my own heart as I woke this morning, reflecting on the last 5 years I spent with this wonderful man. Sweet and solemn, I could hardly put into words what I was feeling, so turned instead to paint and brush. Although words and images will never be able to justly express the wonderful sentiment of five happy years together, I believe this scene is as close as art can ever come. When I see it I am filled once again with those feelings I had this morning, and hope that others can understand just exactly what I wanted (but feel I truly failed) to say to my dear sweet husband.

Scene 3 depicts August 12, 2010 - an average day in the life of Brett and Kristina Foutz. As I think is fairly obvious by our body language, Brett has just returned home from a hard day at work, to a sweet hug, kiss, and floaty heart from his wife of 4 years. We stare lovingly into one another's eyes, reliving the triumphs we have enjoyed over the last few years, and looking forward to what lies ahead. Love is in the air, every where I look around. Love is in the air, every sight and every sound. And I don't know if I'm being foolish, I don't know if I'm being wise but it's something that I must believe in and it's there when I look in your eyes.

I know it's hard to believe, but I am planning on letting these babies go. We are holding an Art Auction to raise money for our New York trip. Bidding starts at $1,000 OBO. Please leave your bid in a comment on this blog post.

I dream of Jimmy (pronounce it Jeemy so it becomes a cool 1960s pop culture reference)

2011-08-01T12:28:00.003-05:00

So I'm not generally an obsessive person, but ever since we got those tickets to Late Night with Jimmy Fallon I've been a little obsessed (in case those last few blog entries weren't a tip off). We have been off the charts googling for a hotel that will fit our budget and also be clean.

they really want to overlap, they just can't seem to get there.

I've been googling for fun 'off the beaten path' stuff to do in NYC -- I've already been to a lot of the big tourist places and Brett just isn't touristy.

And of course, Jimmy. We are freaking going to see Late Night with Jimmy Fallon. I am so beyond excited about this, and feel like I have to get all the way caught up on my Jimmy Jargon. There are so many SNL clips I've never seen, a few Late Night episodes I've missed, embarrassed to say I've never seen Taxi OR Fever Pitch and holy crap I am a google stalker! This concentrated Jimmy Obsession has really worked a number on my brain, and it has been manifesting in a crazy reocurring couples date night dream.

They usually start just after the taping of Late Night when Jimmy is running up and down the aisles giving high fives and handshakes when he inexplicably stops right in front of me (and Brett, who is wearing a thundercats T-shirt, and I am wearing my wedding dress) and asks, so, you guys want to hang out tonight? And I of course reply, "sure, we are in New York City but the only thing I want to do while I am here is have an awesomely tame game night!" Jimmy of course thinks this is a fabu-idea and we are magically transported to what I think is the 'living area' of our high class hotel room (this is when I start realizing I am dreaming because obviously we could not have afforded this hotel IRL).

Jimmy has brought his wife along (who is sometimes the lovely Nancy Juvonen and sometimes the equally lovely Denise Fallon) and we are sitting around the table playing Jenga (do people actually play this game any more?) when someone knocks on the door and low and behold, Tina Fey heard we were getting together and thought she'd stop by with Rich (shoot, I know his name is Jeff but she's the one calling him Rich so we all go along with it.). Sometimes it isn't Tina Fey who stops in. Sometimes it is the New Kids on the Block (the 90's version) one time it was A.D. Miles (we didn't let him in though, not sure why) and one time it was our good friends Spencer and Allison which clinches it for me that this is NOT a prophetic dream because although everything up to this point is believable, Spencer and Allison's surprise visit to NYC during our anniversary trip just isn't. So there ya go, I cannot see the future.

So Tina and Rich come in and Brett bumps the table spilling Jenga tiles everywhere which was okay because no one cares for Jenga anyway and did Tina remember to bring Monopoly? Someone suggests charades which to my waking mind seems like a fabulous idea. But by the time I yell out "Lord of the Rings!" I'm back in Lubbock Texas tangled up in a sheet and accidentally elbowing Brett in the face.

I think it's time to lay off the google for a while, but not before I create this awesome composite of what dream couples game night looks like.

Blue Suede Paint War

2011-07-30T16:44:00.023-05:00

(Omigoodness, a post that has nothing to do with JIMMY FALLON??)

My babies are awesome. We tried to make this week special since Dad was pretty much nonexistent (working long hard hours!) so we made play-dough, went to the drive-in, made cookies and had a paint war. Life is good.

And some pictures in case I decide to ever make a blog book. (I feel another project bunny spawn coming on . . .)

Oops, missed the template there a little! Oh well.

How Jimmy Fallon inadvertently made me a person of Walmart.

2011-07-27T21:02:00.004-05:00

I know I have the tendency to ramble on, so I tried to bold the important bits that prove I can truly pin this on Jimmy.

Our budget is pretty tight. We get a great discount on flights since Brett works for American, but the discounted tickets to paycheck ratio is not awesome, so we have to be careful how often we fly or we get no paycheck. Though we originall planned on going to Sacramento and NYC this August, we honestly thought our NYC plans were ruined when we failed to secure Late Night tickets. So instead of flying to NYC we flew our family to SLC for a reunion. NYC airfare money spent!

Well then Jimmy (ie LNJF's audience coordinator) gets us tickets. Something I honestly in a million years never thought would happen. I guess I am more persuasive (twitter-spam-annoying) than I thought because NYC IS BACK ON! But that NYC airfare money? Gone. We need more cash to be able to make this trip happen! So of course, being the responsible wonderful awesome husband and father and provider that he is, Brett picks up extra shifts to pay for a hotel in and airfare to NYC. And when I mean extra shifts, I mean an extra shift every day. This guy is working from 8 am til 12 am. Without complaint. Are you starting to understand why I love this man so much? Well Brett starts this crazy shift before we get a chance to go grocery shopping.

So we are a 1 car family, and our 1 car is now gone from 7:30 am til 12:30 am. and there is no food in the house. My kids are not awake at either of those times so it makes it hard (not to mention expensive) to drive him. He comes home the first night of working this ridiculous shift to a super stank wife who, instead of loving on him and telling him how awesome he is demands, "did you buy milk on your way home?" to which he should have replied, "back off woman, I just worked 16 hours and I'm tired and was thinking about going to bed the second I got home because I would have to be awake in 7 hours to go back to work the next morning so, no I didn't even think to buy your stupid milk on the way home."

I think what he actually said was, "no, I'm sorry" to which I should have thrown my arms around his neck and kissed the beejuz out of him for being so good, but instead I think I gave him more stank attitude.

So totally put-out, I take the car grocery shopping at the only time I have it (1:30 a.m.) to the only grocery store open at that hour (wal-mart). To make matters worse, I haven't showered that day because I am gross like that, I am still in my pajamas and last but not least (unrealized by me until I actually arrived) I did not put a bra on.

Yeah I was gross.

And thus, I became a person of Walmart. Courtesy of Jimmy Fallon.

So if you've ever wondered what kind of person does the full-on grocery shopping run at 2:00 in the morning, now you know.

I didn't stop to take a full-body picture. YOU'RE WELCOME.

P.S. I still think I have 1 degree left, in which I would like to mention that the 6 degrees game is most commonly referenced with Kevin Bacon, who it all really comes back to, ya know?

P.P.S. If you are friends with me on facebook you have seen the unedited version of this photo. Yes I photoshopped out my huge eyebrow zit. And again, YOU'RE WELCOME.

P.P.P.S. (seriously kristina? YES!) Now I want you all to know that I felt very repentant of my attitude towards my dear sweet awesome husband almost the second I pulled out of our parking lot. When I came home from the store at 2:30 in the morning and unloaded all 3 trips of groceries up the stairs to our second floor apartment I sat down and wrote him the most heartfelt "forgive me" note known to man. Unfortunately it made a lot more sense at 2:30 am then it did at 7:00 am when he read it, but I think he got the gist of it. I quote, "I love you so much, and if I expressed how much I loved you at even 50% capacity 100% of the time you would be blown away by expresso-love."

UPDATE: I added the whole video for those who were confused about the Shia/Andy reference. I'm almost afraid to underwhelm you, but it is a Foutz Family Favorite.

Dear Kristina Foutz,

2011-07-24T00:14:00.004-05:00

Dear Kristina,
You so rock.

Love,
Late Night with Jimmy Fallon

Okay, so it wasn't THAT epic, but it was pretty dang epic. Just got this email.

Dear Kristina,

Thank you for your interest in tickets to Late Night with Jimmy Fallon! Some
of the writers recently spotted your online plea to obtain tickets to an
August taping. We would love to help out a die hard fan of the show. If you
think you can still make the trip to NYC, we would like to set aside two VIP
tickets to the show on August 10th. Please see attached instructions for
ticket pick up.

Happy 5th Anniversary!

Brandon D.

Oh. My. Holy. Crap. We're going to see JIMMY!!!!

So I have to thank everyone that helped out, I know our video got posted and reposted on Facebook 298X and my original blog letter got reposted 238X. The video recieved 500+ views, and at one point the blog was getting a hit every 2 minutes. Not exactly viral, but not bad for a letter that started in LUBBOCK TEXAS! We made it to New York you guys, courtesy of awesome you guys!

Special thanks to Patrick Borelli. I am 100% convinced that it was his intervention that got us noticed by the Audience coordinator. But if anyone else from LNJF wants to refute that, feel free!

Now excuse me, I have some more girlish squealing and hokey dancing to take care of.

Dear Jimmy Fallon: I made you a video.

2011-07-21T00:24:00.004-05:00

A little update.
Up to this very second this video has been shared on facebook over 30X (I posted it in the wee hours last night so that's pretty awesome) and my letter has been shared 222X on facebook. Cool.
Pretty much I have the best friends and family ever. And they have the best friends and family ever. And so on.

Thank you thank you thank you everyone! and Thank you, youtube, for finding the most awkward image in my video and choosing it for the main still and thumbnail.

Dear Jimmy Fallon

2011-07-12T21:39:00.009-05:00

Dear Jimmy,

I blew it.

This year for our 5th anniversary my husband and I planned on dropping our kids off with Grandma in Sacramento, California and flying to New York for 3 days. The plans were going so well. We were doing NYC low-budget but that was ok, because we had a dream, and our dream was to see a live-taping of Late Night with Jimmy Fallon.

If I wanted to make a short story long and run the risk of possibly boring you, I might go into detail how as a young couple going to school and working alternating hours the only time we were able to be together generally started around 11:30 p.m. CST. I might mention that we only had 2 channels that our bunny ears antenna picked up, and I could possibly continue on about how we strengthened our marriage through laughter and a communal love for good stand-up comedy. If I really wanted to wax long on how much Late Night with Jimmy Fallon has meant to us I might continue to talk about how it has been an important tradition in our marriage for the last five years (okay we watched Conan for a few years but he was just a gateway host), and how the culminating event of our 5 year marriage was to enjoy a live taping of Late Night with Jimmy Fallon. But I don’t want to rattle on, so I’ll try to keep it short.

And the short of it is that after calling every other day for weeks, I somehow missed the window to aquire tickets for Late Night with Jimmy Fallon from August 9th, 10th, or 11th. Hence the blowing of the Anniversary trip.

I wish I could say that I was so involved in caring for my two young children that I didn’t have time to call in and get the tickets. But honestly I was probably sitting in front of the computer googling “cheap hotels in New York City.” Or even more likely I was hitting “stumble” over and over again in an internet-induced coma.

Long story shorter, no tickets.

My Husband took the bad news in stride. He pointed out that we really couldn’t afford the trip anyway, and since the ultra-magnetic pull of possibly being able to see a taping of Late Night with Jimmy Fallon was gone, we would probably be better off sticking close to Sacramento for our anniversary. Now my googling changed to “cheap hotels in Sacramento.” Until my dear sweet starving student of a husband noticed what I was doing.

I cannot say anything bad about my husband. He works long hard hours. He is a full-time student. He is an amazing father. He is a beyond wonderful man. But some times he does fall a little short on romance. Especially on this occasion when he insisted, “I’m not spending money on a Hotel when we have some place we can stay for free.”

Some place we can stay for free. At his mother’s house. For our 5 year anniversary.

So now instead of being whisked away to spend 3 carefree days and 2 steamy nights in glamorous New York City I have been reduced to sleeping at my mother in law’s house. In a full-size bed. Next door to my teenage sisters in law. With my 4 year old sleeping on the floor at the foot of our bed and my 2 year old most likely nestled between me and my husband.

You can see why a girl can start to look a bit desperate and crazy around the eyes.

So Jimmy, if you can help a girl out, please send us some tickets. We don’t even need chairs, we’ll sit at the back of the room and try and duck to see under the stage lights. Or we’ll dress up like cowboys and dance behind the Roots like that one guy did that one time (my husband says I was hallucinating but I swear I saw him) or if you can at least tell me the name of the musical guest I’ll make a last ditch effort to get in the band. Are the Roots having any kind of audtions?

If this is not within your power or your desires I can understand. But like the Moochers Association of America taught me, it never hurts to ask.

Many thanks!
-Kristina Foutz

kriskrisfoutz@gmail.com

p.s. I may have sent multiple copies of this letter to different places in the hopes that at least one got through to someone. So . . . if you get like 80 I am really terribly sorry.

Jimmy carefully considering my request.

We swim!

2011-06-28T00:00:00.001-05:00

This was our first official family swim of the summer. As a family. We went on Monday morning around 11 so the pool was deserted, which we like.
I take the kids swimming maybe once a week, but I always go when it is too unbearable hot to be in the house. For those of you who don't follow my whiney posts on facebook, our AC doesn't work and our little apartment gets HOT. I mean, cook an egg on the linoleum hot. We all kind of lay around like sweaty miserable slugs until the sun goes down. Or we go swimming. Along with the entire neighborhood. Because apparently noone's AC works. Nice one, south plains apartments.
So we go to the pool with all our neighbors and yes, we are the only white people there. People actually complain -- not because we are caucasion, but because we are SO caucasian we accidentally burn retinas when the sun bounces off our skin at just the right angle (or wrong angle, as your retinas would argue). And apparently insurance doesn't cover retinas burned from reflected/ amplified sunlight exposure. Sorry neighbors, it is dangerous to swim with us. But please don't evict us. Just fix our AC and we'll stay inside more often.

Juliet likes to swim.

Bensen LOVES to swim.

See Juliet swim.

See Bensen LOVE to swim.

See Bensen and Juliet with their daddy.

See Bensen LOVE his daddy.

See the man who doesn't read. Except this one day when his wife wanted him to swim.

See his wife LOVE to swim!

(First time Bensen has been in the water unaided!!)

See Bensen wear girly floaties.

All my projects.

2011-05-01T21:49:00.000-05:00

I don't know if this is a problem that all women face but I'd wager that it affects 85% of all women in one form or another (I used a hypothetical statistic to make my point seem more legitimate).

Projects.

Not just projects but PROJECTS. As in, you started one thing and then started something else before finishing that one thing although finishing that one thing would have taken maybe an hour but now it is 2 years later and those two little somethings left undone have reproduced into a million billion little somethings that with a little work would be done but instead are left to form their own families of little somethings.

Little reproducing bunny something projects. This is my problem, and the problem that I would wager affects 85% of all women in one form or another.

For example:

Floor pillows: Started September 2010. Status: 90% completed.

Amigurumi Koala Bear: Started April 2010. Status: 10% completed.

Girl Child: Started September 2007. Status: 16% completed.

Boy Child: Started April 2009. Status: 11% completed.

Blog: Started February 2008. Status: always behind schedule.

That totally awesome idea for a Musical I had: Started April 2011. Status: 2% completed.

Photography Whatever the heck it is: Started January 2003. Status: in production.

Egg Garden: Started March 2011. Status: 25% completed.

Window Garden: Started March 2011. Status: Killed by husband. Currently suspended.

Painting Walls: Started March 2011. Status: 1% completed.

Photo Mural: Started April 2011. Statis: Very far behind.

All of these projects (and more) are currently in reproduction. And yet what did I do today? Did I work on any one of these projects?

Nope. I started a new one.

HUZZAH!

Easter!

2011-04-24T23:26:00.009-05:00

This is a TERRIBLY done easter video. It is beyond boring unless you love my babies, which as it turns out, I do! So for all of you that:

a. love my babies

b. love willy wonka and the chocolate factory

c. have a weird obsession with eggs

d. are beyond bored

or e. all of the above

ENJOY! Otherwise you may want to skip.

Broken Blogger

2011-04-05T00:36:00.000-05:00

I had such high hopes for this blog, back when I decided it should be mine again. The last few months I have learned something a bit terrifying. I am boring. Each day has a pretty standard schedule: wake up in an empty bed to the unyielding shouts of a two year old. Mom! Mommy! Mom! Mommy! Time to cook up a bleary-eyed breakfast and unload the dishwasher. Time to forget to change a soggy morning diaper, time to feel guilty about not remembering to change it, time for family feud, the gameshow or the impending run-in with a surly 3 year old. Time for lunch, naps, and maybe some photography. Nope, not photography, laundry.I can get lost in the schedule for days and weeks at a time, and then it is time to get out of Lubbock, where the schedule generally resumes once we've landed in Oklahoma or Utah or Boise or california. The basics are so similar and tedious it is often hard to recognize and celebrate the intricates that make each day special. Like the first time Juliet ever said, "I love you too, Mom." instead of just parroting "I love you" back to me. Or the time bensen fell off a chair and immediately called out for daddy instead of mom.
That is the kind of stuff I hoped to blog more about. But instead I am up to my ears in memory foam, blogging about what I should have blogged but still haven't. And by the way i've been to Houston twice, am in Oklahoma, and will be in Utah for the third time and Boise for the second since the last time I blogged. I am a blailure. Or, blogging failure. At least I am not a momilure, as my children are still alive and fairly happy. And well traveled.

Why do I love this picture?

2011-02-28T23:18:00.001-06:00

I love it because I know that giant blobby thing on the right of the image is actually Juliet. I love it because the light source was a TV and nothing else, and c'mon that is just cool. I love that even though you can't tell, Bensen is mirroring Juliet. I love it because they are my babies.

So even though it's not that great of an image, all ya'll can see it and know that I love it!!

Who Loves the Oscars? Kristina Loves the Oscars.

2011-02-28T23:03:00.002-06:00

I LOVE THE OSCARS. And I may never forgive my two adorable children for making me miss the first half of the 2011 Oscars (although judging from the video clips I dug up of Franco and Hathaway hosting, maybe I should be thanking them.)

One thing I have to say, I loved the stage. The main stage with the lights in the floor was really my favorite thing of all time. I just adored it. They did great on the set design this year, it really was magical.

Best Presenter was def. Jeff Bridges. First off, doesn't he just have the best voice? Second off, he is Kevin Flynn aka looks awesome in a neon tracksuit at 30 and even better in his spiritual lideresque glowy cloak at 60 (don't tell me you haven't seen the new tron and yes I have a thing for old dudes). At any rate, Bridges Oscar presentation was personal, sweet and heartfelt.
Love love love this picture, BTW, talk about deer in headlights. Jeff's rockin the beard (and yes Natalie Portman was absolutely stunning in her bump friendly gown)

Worst presenter There were some pretty awkward moments this year but I don't think anything was more awkward than James Franco the whole night. He is saying now how he doesn't care if he was the worst host in Oscar History, but by golly I had to sit through that and I care! Someone needs to put together an intervention for that boy. I was so relieved when Billy Crystal came on stage because I thought for one glorious moment they had called the bullpen and begged him to relieve Franco.

Best Acceptance Speech Lot of beautiful speeches this year. Christian Bale was pretty cute getting choked up over his wife, Colin Firth (who I have been dying to see win an oscar!) did a magnificent job, but honestly my favorite was from directer Tom Hooper. And I'm not usually impressed by directors! (Spielburg did a fantastic job presenting the award for best picture, however!)

Worst Acceptance Speech Melissa Leo. Yeah, we were all surprised you won too after your little "vote for me" stunt, but dropping the f-bomb is so cheap. Get some class girl.

Last year I really focused on best and worst dressed at the Oscars (Ironic since I have no sense of fashion whatsoever) but honestly this year there weren't any dresses that stood out to me as total misses. Okay I have already started lying, there was one. And it was so horrid I haven't been able to find a picture of it online. This is two years in a row Kathryn Bigelow has made my worst dressed list. Now, I know she isn't an actress, and so the pressure for her to wear the big wow gown is off, but honestly sister! You are at the OSCARS. You are presenting an AWARD! Please put a little more thought into what you are going to wear! Last year she sported an early 90s prom dress and this year she sported a 1970s potato sack. So dissappointing. I will most likely never attend the Oscars, yet I feel I have put more thought into my Oscar dress than this woman!
Speaking of, guess who was wearing my dress this year? Hailee Steinfeld.
Keep in mind this isn't my Best Dressed pick, but this is my "closest to what Kristina would wear if ever she attended the Oscars" pick. I love love love this and it is eerily similar to many of my oscar dress sketches. No I will not share them with you.

Well I am feeling too totally lazy to pull up all the pictures for you, so if you are really curious google is your friend.

Best dressed

Halle Berry- always stunning!

michelle williams

Scarlett Johansen

Mandy Moore

MOST of Anne Hathaway, minus that 20's flapper dress with the fringe all over. Was not a fan of that one.

on the fence
(I really want to like it but just can't bring myself to)
Cate Blanchett
nicole kidman
Florence Welch

Meh
(got a lot of press but didn't impress me much)
jennifer lawrence (she looked like an oscar tribute to Pamela Anderson in Baywatch)
Celine Dione

Worst dressed
Kathryn Bigelow -- already vented about this.
Sandra Bullock -- Mostly her hair. Why Sandra, why?
Marisa Tomel -- pretty sure this was her prom dress from the early 80s that she had handy in her closet.
Melissa Leo -- I really wanted to like it, but the high colar and the giant design were too much. I hope to see a really elegant lace dress at the oscars some day, but this wasn't the day.

Well that is my little schpiel about the second half of the Oscars. Did I mention I loooove the oscars?

You can't always get what you want.

2011-02-19T21:55:00.004-06:00

Unless you are Juliet Foutz.

I try to be a good mother, and being a good mother to a 3 year old consists of saying 'no' a lot.
Sometimes you have to say no to keep her safe.
"Can I take the bread out of the oven?"
"No."
"Can I run with scissors?"
"No."
"Can I sit on the counter next to this pot of boiling eggs and stir it with this dirty pancake-batter-coated whisk I found in the dishwasher?"

"No."

Sometimes you have to say no to keep her healthy.
"Can I have a Marshmallow?"
"No."
"Cake?"
"Cookies?"
"Icecream?"
"An egg?"

"NO." Ok sometimes when she asks for an egg I say yes. In fact I even say yes sometimes when she asks for other less wholesome things, cause you know, a marshmallow never killed anyone (that I know of, but certainly not a 3 year old).

"Did you say no?"
Yes.
"Did you say yes?"
No.
"oooOOOOhhhhhhh."

At which point she walks out of the room in a deceptively complacent way. She'll make you think that she's defeated, but don't be fooled. She is waiting. She is plotting.

For Valentines day we made sugar cookies. And then we binged on sugar cookies. My mother sense finally kicked in after the sugar rush started winding down and I put everything away.

"Can I have some more cookies?"
No.
"oooOOOOOoohhhh"
"In fact, it is time for bed."
"oooOOOOOoohhhh"

I put the kids to bed and then, to be safe, I put the cookies in a tupperware container and put them on top of the fridge. I was certain she wouldn't be able to get them.
So certain, in fact, that I sat down at the computer and oblivious to the world started putting the last finishing touches on Brett's Valentine's Day present. 30 minutes later I suddenly felt prompted to check in on the kids (mother's intuition was apparently running a little slow that night) only to find Juliet holed up with what was once an entire bowl of frosting. Oops. At least I had saved the cookies, right? Not for long. Next morning I got out of the shower to find 3 children sitting in front of the tv with a cookie in each hand.

JULIET! Where are the cookies???
"On the fridge."

Sure enough, that little tart had dragged a chair into the kitchen, climbed onto the counter, got a step up in the kitchen cabinet to reach the cookies on the fridge, got down, doled the cookies out to everyone, and then climbed back onto the fridge to replace the empty tupperware container.

No, no she is not defeated. She is only biding her time.

Thought she would help herself to some cake as I was busy writing this blog.

Taking back the blog.

2011-02-17T14:00:00.000-06:00

I miss writing. I used to write all the time, especially while I was in school. I used to keep a fabulous journal that was sticky sweet with Kristina-isms and Krisonality. I thought I could incorporate that into this blog, but I haven't. I am too worried about who is reading and what they want to know about that I never write what I want to write about anymore.

Well, no more! Here and now I am taking back the blog. I am going to care less about what I think others want to read and more about what I want to write. I'm sure you'll still be overwhelmed with photos and tidbits about my kids because that is my life right now. But now it's going to be on my terms. And I'm ok with that.

Hope you are too.

That is all.

-Kristina.

For all you wonderful grands and greats!!

2011-01-07T00:16:00.003-06:00

2010 going going gone.

2010-12-31T10:47:00.002-06:00

I wanted to take some time to post a little family newsletter here online, for all of you who didn't receive a Christmas Card from us.
If you did receive a card from us, let me know immediately as there is someone out there posing as the Foutz family and mailing out Christmas Cards.

2010 has been a crazy year of change for the Foutz Family! We started the year with 4 members in our family, and ended the year with 4. At the begininning of the year Brett was laboring away as a student in the Architecture program at Texas Tech, and now as it comes to a close, Brett is a student in the Architecture program at Texas Tech. When 2010 started, Kristina was a stay at home mom, carefully caring for Bensen and Juliet as well as another little girl throughout the week, but now as it comes to a close Kristina is working hard as a stay at home mom, with three kids at home, Juliet, Bensen, and another little girl who comes during the week.

Okay, so maybe there haven't been too many changes. But there have been a few if you get into the nitty gritty of our lives!

Brett submitted his portfolio to apply to the 2nd year of the Architecture program and was (of course!) accepted. He does incredible work and loves school. He is still working for American Eagle (airlines) and we all thoroughly enjoy our flying discounts. It has been a real blessing to be able to visit family during this time we are living so far away from everyone. Brett is currently locked in battle with two of his brothers (Ian and Craig) in a "Come See How Good I Look" Contest that ends on July 4th, 2011. I am biased but I think he looks dang good.

I am Kristina, and back in May I picked up my camera again. Since then I have been using a lot of my free time to learn about portrait photography and post processing work in PS. I have come a long way, but still have a ways to go. I have really loved getting back into photography again, and only wish I had more willing subjects. Bensen and Juliet have long ago tired of the camera, and I have a lot of pictures of the backs of babies' heads. I love staying home with my babies, watch Madison most week days, and have the occasional photo shoot on the weekends. It is a wonderful, full life. The only thing I am missing is a car!

Juliet (3) is a chatterbox and a busy body, she never stops moving and she never stops chatting! We have found that no place is safe from her creative explorations, and have discovered her in the most exasperating places. On top of the fridge, inside a tall cabinet, hanging like a dress in her closet. No chocolate is safe from her, and no toothpaste or lotion bottle either. She is a good girl who listens most of the time, but just can't help herself the other times. We love her we love her we love her! We love the crazy things that she says.

Bensen (20 months) is perfect, and there is not much else you can say about that. He is adored by everyone in the family, including and especially his big sister. I just found him dipping his toothbrush in the toilet and can't even be mad because he looked up at me with his innocent doe eyes and said "teeth!" wich he then proceeded to scrub with his now disgusting toothbrush. His vocabulary has filled out considerably, and his most expressive sentence to date is, "Daddy, drink? water?" He gets as much water as he could possibly want-- how could we refuse such a perfect being? Help us all when he learns to say "Daddy, drive? car?"

We moved apartments (and wards!) way back in June, and are really loving our new place although some of its quirks seem insufferable at times (for example, no washer and dryer hookups. I have carted a lot of laundry a long way in the last 6 months!) but the extra space makes it all worth while. We are still only a one car family which is hard some days, but we make it work! We still have 4 years left in Lubbock but we are glad to be somewhere that we enjoy, where the people are so good and kind.

2010 has been good to us and we hope 2011 is much the same. Some day we will get a family picture taken.

We love you all, happy new year!

Best of 2010

2010-12-31T10:30:00.000-06:00

I can't believe it has been another year. This is the third year in a row doing best of. Check out 2008 and 2009 if you are so inclined.

Best Movie: We got Netflix this year so I have been able to watch a lot of fun movies I wouldn't have been able to otherwise. Still didn't go to the theater much though. Hmm. This is always a hard one for me. I really really enjoyed Scott Pilgrim vs. The World though I don't think I'll ever own it. Toy Story 3 was the best family movie, yes even better than Tangled. and Inception was also really amazing. I have to watch that one again though. Still haven't seen (but look forward to) Prince Caspian, Harry Potter 7 part 1 and Gulliver's Travels.
Best Book: I read a lot this year and liked most of the books I read. The one that left the most impact was Alive: The story of the Andes Survivors. Best Fantasy this year was Mistborn, the whole trilogy, and best YA fiction was Hunger Games and Catching Fire. I didn't care for the third one.
Best Place to Live: Cincinnati. We went to King's Island for our anniversary and I fell in love with NKY all over again. Since we only lived in Lubbock this year I decided I could write what I think would be the best place to live.
Best TV Show: Castle. Easy.
Best Game: Didn't play a lot of video games this year so I changed this category a little. I did play a lot of board games and I love Ticket to Ride.
Best Home-made Dinner: Natasha and Steven gave me this awesome recipe for Pork Tacos with green salsa. Oh. MY. Heavenly Goodness.
Best Deal: Toy Story 1 and 2 on DVD/Blu Ray combo pack for $5 each, including 2 free tickets to Toy Story 3. Awesome.
Best New Hobby: Photography. I guess it is an old hobby come back for a second round. But I am loving it! Also started crocheting this year. Woot!

Best Husband Ever: Still Brett Foutz.

Rows Your Boat

2010-12-24T20:03:00.001-06:00

by Juliet Foutz

Row Row Rows your boat
Gents, down the stream!
Larry, Larry, Larry, Larry,
Life's a spider dream!

Come let us adore Him -- adorably.

2010-12-20T16:13:00.001-06:00

This is Juliet's fourth Christmas, but it is the first Christmas she has been interested in Santa. Santa Santa Santa. And even more than Santa, she has been interested in asking Santa for a Pillow Pet. Any time she sees Santa on tv or on the computer or a picture at the mall she says she needs to talk to Santa about her Pillow Pet.
While totally adorable, this is also a little discouraging for a parent who feels like it is her motherly duty to help her children keep Christmas centered on Christ.
When it comes to your kids you can never really know how much gets through to them (especially when their vocabulary is so limited) so it is always a pure joy (and a relief!) when they let you know in their own way that they get it.

This is what I found this morning.
Juliet's explanation: "Look! It's the baby Jesus! Everyone needs to see Jesus."

Merry merry Christmas!! I know that Christ lives, that He is our Savior. I know that through Him we can return to live with our Heavenly Father. I know my family is eternal, and I am so grateful for the Gospel in our lives. I truly have been blessed, and I thank Heavenly Father every day for my beautiful family and the opportunity I have to return with them to Him once more. I rejoice every day for such a wonderful knowledge and I should express it more often!

Hard day.

2010-12-19T20:05:00.000-06:00

Sundays are our hard days.
There is never anything to do.

We sit around.

Bored out of our minds.

Wishing we were some place else.

Doing something else.

Or at least doing something.

But no. Sundays are the hard days.

We never do anything fun on Sundays.

Give me my hair!

2010-11-28T15:02:00.000-06:00

There are around 383 operating drive-ins in the good ol' USA, and we have been blessed to have one of them in Lubbock Texas! Even more fun, our Drive-in is open year round, so you can enjoy your favorite movie as you slowly freeze to death.

Last night we decided to have an adventure to top off our fun-filled thanksgiving weekend. Since there was a Tech game last night we were confident the drive-in wouldn't be too crowded, so we loaded up the car with snacks and blankets, donned our pajamas and headed off for the 7:20 showing of Tangled. At the theater ($6 bucks for all three of us to see a double feature -- can't beat that!) I moved the babies' car seats to the front two seats, and snuggled into the back seat with the snacks, doling them out as I saw fit.

The kids did great! Everyone loved the movie, we stayed relatively warm (turning the engine on every 20 min for a quick reheat!) and we got to eat as much popcorn and dry cereal as our little tummies could hold. During the intermission we took a quick potty break, buckled the babies back into the back seat, and I sat upfront to watch Secretariat (ye old horse movie). The babies fell asleep and my movie was over in time to go pick Brett up for work.

All in all a very successful evening!

As we were driving home from the airport Juliet roused momentarily to exclaim, "Give me my hair!" I'm taking it as a sign that she enjoyed the movie!

Happy Thanksgiving!

2010-11-27T18:25:00.002-06:00

We had a great visit with Marsi and Quinton and LaRae and Hendi this week! They drove the 6 hours from Moore to spend a great Thanksgiving with us. All the food turned out great, and the company was fantastic. So glad you guys came!

10 points to whoever can correctly identify the slideshow music! (Or at least what it's from)

Not for Nothing

2010-11-23T15:50:00.000-06:00

Bedtime at the Foutz home consists of a lot of running around, cajoling, pleading, some tears, ingested tooth paste, and very occasionally, sleep. We have tried different bedtime routines to try and get the kids to settle in and calm down, and unfortunately haven't had a lot of success. Our most recent attempt are hymns and primary songs. Right around 8:30 Mom starts to sing. I sing as we pick up the front room, I sing as we get teeth brushed, I sing while Juliet uses the potty one last time, I sing as Bensen escapes once more down the hallway to hide in some random closet, and I sing as kids are once more captured, kicking and screaming. I sing a lot right before bed, and sometimes it helps and sometimes it doesn't.

The days it doesn't help are the worst because honestly, I don't feel like singing. It seems pointless to continue on with "Teach me to walk in the light" when two kids are running up and down a darkened hallway. "Do as I'm doing" seems a little silly when one child is jumping on a bed, the other is pulling out blocks and I am alone in the bathroom singing at the top of my lungs as I brush my teeth. "I have a family here on Earth" seems a far stretch when my two sweet hooligans are screaching in a most unearthly tone.

I was feeling just that way. I was sitting alone in the living room, singing "I am a child of God" to myself waiting for my kids to file in for family prayer (hopelessly waiting) when the most awful wave of pointlessness washed over me. Why sing? My kids were as wild as usual, it wasn't particularly making me feel better, and it was probably making the neighbors crazy. So, with "parents kind and dear" barely whispering past my lips, I sank down to the carpet in silence. I was done singing.

My children, who had been playing at who knows what in the bathroom sink, suddenly stopped chattering. I saw Juliet peak out the bathroom door at me down the hallway, making sure I hadn't mysteriously died I'm sure. Convinced that all was well, she disappeared into the bathroom again. All was quiet.

Then, belted on a small, yet piercing voice I heard "LEAD ME GUIDE ME WALK BESIDE ME HELP ME FIND THE WAY!" echoing through the bathroom and down the hall.
I had no idea she knew the words.

What a sweet and gentle reminder that not only can my children hear me, they are listening and learning.

So now I'm back to singing again.

Guess who doesn't do well in Nursery?

2010-11-14T16:19:00.003-06:00

ME!!!!

Nursery was a little shorthanded today so the Primary Prez. asked if I would help out. Can I just express how grateful I am for those wonderful souls who work in the Nursery every week? I make an effort to thank them every time I drop off and pick my kids up from class, and it has always been entirely heart-felt. Well now it will be heart and soul-felt. And mind and body!

This was Bensen's second week of nursery and he does not like it. It doesn't help that it is during nap time! Even if I am in there with him he is always hanging on me and half crying. Can I really blame him? I felt the same way!!!

"Okay Juliet-- look frazzled!!"

My conversation with Juliet

2010-11-02T23:34:00.000-05:00

Me: do you need to go potty?
Juj: I went stinky
Me: you need to go stinky in the toilet?
Juj: no, I went stinky on the ground.
Me: what? Where??
Juj: I put it in the toilet.
Me: you went stinky on the ground and then put it in the toilet??
Juj: yeah with my little hand.

At this point I proceeded to smell Juliet's hand. It smelled like soap! (thank goodness!) Brett had recently washed it.

We are still unsure to the accuracy of her account, and could not pinpoint any spots where poop may have been. But really, we don't want to know.

More Midnight Mayhem

2010-11-02T13:54:00.000-05:00

Instead of staying in bed Juliet decided she would rather floss.

Happy Sad Halloween!

2010-11-01T13:18:00.001-05:00

Well, just like every year, I put halloween off a little too long, was unable to fulfill my dreams, and was a little disappointed with our outcome. Someday my love of Halloween will trump my tendency to procrastinate, but not this year! The biggest disappointment was our Stake's lack of Cult Classic Culture. I thought at least 3 people would recognize Bensen and me, but to my utter dismay, not one single soul knew what we were shooting for. Oh well, I guess next year we will have to think of something even more cryptic and baffling to other trick or treaters.

Bensen as Captain Hammer and (a mega weird picture of) me as Dr. Horrible

Juliet begged to be a robot, so the day of our Stake Trunk or Treat we spray painted some boxes silver, realized it wasn't working, and dug up an old tutu. She was a little bummed but got over it.

We stayed in on actual Halloween, excited to recieve some trick or treaters. I set up my mad scientist lab in the front window, turned out all the lights, and waited for our first victims!!!! ............. Not a single trick or treater this year. So mega sad! So we painted each others' faces instead. The kids were happy, I was the only disappointed one of the bunch.

Well, at least we know now for next year! Stay tuned for our mega awesome trunk that we will be contributing to next years trunk or treat!!

Apparently it's bath time.

2010-10-27T19:01:00.004-05:00

Juliet's Birthday Party

2010-10-23T23:27:00.000-05:00

Juliet and her bestie Hattie shared a birthday party this year! And I made my first ever slideshow movie thing. It was way too much work, so enjoy it because it may never happen again ha ha.

Pumpkin Patch

2010-10-23T22:21:00.001-05:00

Man my kids are so unphotogenic. I guess that's what I get for wanting to be a photographer.

I love love love going to the pumpkin patch. Brett humors me! Unfortunately Lubbock is a bit sparse on the pumpkin patch front, this is actually a huge mud pit dotted with pumpkins.

It was still fun though!

Baby Girl turns 3

2010-09-29T13:28:00.001-05:00

Juliet is still so very small. I would refuse to believe that 3 years have already passed if I didn't have so

much hard evidence stacked before me.

4 Days before the big debut (LATE debut!)

I felt my first contraction on September 26th, in the produce dept. at Broulims. Brett called his mom and exclaimed, "we're going to have a baby tonight!"

He jinxed us.

2 days later Juliet was born! 9 lbs, 1 oz. Ten perfect baby toes and ten perfect baby fingers, and a headful of shockingly black hair.

4 months old, such a sweet beautiful baby! She started sitting still long enough to get her hair done, she started loving rice cereal, and she loved being the center of attention.

8 months old she got her ears pierced. By now she had 4 teeth, and wasn't too keen on the Water Park.

When the Juj was 10 months old we moved to Lubbock. She was a trooper! She has always been really flexible, one of the things we love most about her. Here she is at 1 year old!

Baby Bensen entered her life pretty near her 18 month mark. She loved him from the beginning, and it didn't take too long for him to warm up to her.

2 years old already? Hard as we try, she just isn't in to dress-up. But she loves trains and sesame street and most of all, cake!

2 and a half years old. She is obsessed with swings!

And now she is 3. She has been around for a meer 1/10th of my lifespan but I can't imagine life without her.

Happy Birthday baby girl!

Time out.

2010-09-13T10:25:00.002-05:00

it takes two to make a thing go right

2010-09-12T23:07:00.000-05:00

A Delicious Meal

2010-09-11T23:04:00.000-05:00

We have been incredibly blessed that neither of our kids are picky eaters.

Usually.
What is this. . .. shrimp??

No Thank you!

This girl however, will eat anything! Watch as she enjoys an asparagus.

I started running.

2010-09-10T22:31:00.000-05:00

The Very Dirty Towel: A Mystery

2010-08-22T22:34:00.001-05:00

Think your children are going quietly down to bed?

You are wrong.

They are quiet because they are doing something naughty.

The babies had been in bed for about 1 hour (and they went right down without a fuss, they were so good!) when I decided I should be a good wife and clean the kitchen before my wonderful amazing awesome perfect husband came home from work. I turned off the computer, tired of processing photos anyway, and started making my way down the hall when I was suddenly confronted with something odd. A towel.
Although a towel isn't peculiar in and of itself, it was a very dirty towel. And since I don't generally leave very dirty towels laying around, this towel was something of an oddity.

I cautiously began to approach the dirty towel but had not managed very many steps before a second clue that all was not right this evening caught my attention. I was momentarily relieved I noticed it when I did, for my big toe was hovering mere inches above this second surprise, which would have been a very unpleasant surprise had my descending foot completed its journey and arrived in something quite sticky and altogether unexpected.

Mildly alarmed I removed my favorite 2-jointed appendage from imminent danger and decided it was requisite to further explore these strange apparitions so that I might discover the mystery that kept me from my future sparkling kitchen. Further inspection demanded a close encounter with the subject. I mustered my faculties and began the long 5 foot 6 inch journey to the floor. No sooner had my knees touched the ground than all began to unravel and reveal, for the mysterious substance dolloped on the floor and smeared across a once clean towel had a most familiar and unmistakeable odor that reached up into my nose and triggered one epifamatic lightbulb, causing it to burst into life and recognize my now and eternal nemesis:

peanut. butter.

My mind, jumping to an immediate conclusion, sent a sudden burst of energy to my legs, causing my body to leap forward and dash down the hall, barely avoiding other dangerous dollops along the way. I arrived in the kitchen breathless and -- dare I admit it? -- fearful at what I would find. But my worst fears were unmet as the kitchen stood empty. Too empty. For there, the counter where not one but two jars of peanut butter should be standing was the home of nothing more than a small smudgy finger print. A chair, carefully pushed across the floor to the empty counter sported more fingerprints still. I retreated to the hallway uncertain of my next move. The kitchen and living room stood empty on this end of the hall, my bedroom where I had obliviously sat working mere minutes before also stood empty on the opposite end of the hall, and of the three remaining doors in the hallway between these two locations, only one door stood open.
My adrenaline spent on that first mad dash to the kitchen, I approached the black doorway slowly, breathing deeply, finally noticing how the sweet and salty odor augmented the closer I crept to that fateful third door. I paused just outside the threshold, stealing myself for what I might find inside, then carefully inched around the corner and into the third bedroom. My eyes took too long adjusting to the dimly lit room, illuminated only by the glowing abode of Hamm and Bublé, our pet goldfish. My vision slowly cleared and there, crouching in the shadows of my 3-year-old's bed, my worst nightmare looked straight at me and grinned wickedly. The peanut butter was consuming my daughter's soul.

In a whirlwind of panic I scooped up my precious daughter and carried her, peanut paste and all to the bathroom. I switched the light on, grabbed a towel in a vain effort to combat my enemy when suddenly, with a more thorough inspection in better light, I realized it was in reality my daughter Juliet, who was consuming the peanut butter, and not (as my terror stricken heart had wrongly observed) the other way around.

This invoked an entirely different feeling in me. Rest assured, I did not scream or yell or curse, or beat my fists upon the ground. I confronted the situation calmly and rationally. Like an executioner. Readying himself for the judicious slaying of a wrongful criminal.

I had already rinsed out a set of pajamas, started a bath, cleaned numerous spots of smudgied carpet when it occurred to me that I had only found one of the missing jars of peanut butter.
I turned the light on in the third bedroom, knowing it wouldn't disturb the sweet slumber of my beautiful perfect little baby Bensen.

Bensen. THE ACCOMPLICE!

And thus the mystery of the very dirty towel was solved, although no one ever confessed, and no one seemed very penitent about it.

Lovely Juliet

2010-08-17T16:19:00.000-05:00

Just playing around on the back porch with Juliet. She was being as helpful as a 2 year old (almost 3!) can be. Which is not very helpful.

some snaps of my babies

2010-08-04T22:18:00.000-05:00

my poor kids generally cover their faces and run the other direction when they see the camera coming, so i've been trying to be more low key about taking pictures. we go for walks and play in the dirt and climb trees and since they are enjoying themselves they have been more tolerant of the camera. but they still refuse to look at it.

4th of July!

2010-07-04T21:21:00.004-05:00

Since I haven't blogged in so long, I thought I might add some fotos! We enjoyed 4th of July in Virginia Beach (on Mt. Trashmore!) with Kim and Mom and Dan and Laura (and co.)

My DH is H.O.T.

Everyone took a turn rolling down the hill. We were all very dignified about it.

Juliet loved her some glowsticks!

Back in the water again!

2010-06-04T08:47:00.003-05:00

Juliet became a regular fish last year in the pool, so I was pretty confidant she would take to the water again this year.

It took a little more coaxing than I thought necessary, but after a few minutes she was happily splashing away like old times.

When it was time to go she put up a fight, and even jumped back in the pool floatie-less.

My nice dry walk-home shorts were not so dry after I had to wade in after her. But I can't be too mad -- she looked so sad and scared staring up at me from the bottom of the pool! She was under for all of 10 seconds, and I think she learned her lesson.

I guess we'll find out next time we go swimming!

Juliet swimming last year.

lights, camera, ACTION!

2010-05-17T21:57:00.004-05:00

I created my first photoshop action ever!

One thing I have learned about myself is that I am a chronic over-salter. I always put in just a little too much. I've found I'm kind of the same way when it comes to photoshop, so I was really trying to hold back!

I was trying to achieve a cross-processed look. Not really sure if I quite got it, but whatever I got I'm happy enough with it. I figure it can only get better from here, right? ..... RIGHT???

If you can't tell, the original is on the top for both pictures of Bensen and the Juj, and on the left for the picture of me.

And since I almost never post pictures of myself -- enjoy this rare treat!! (. . . punishment?)

Yay Brett!

2010-05-15T11:52:00.004-05:00

Brett finally finished the semester, which means turning in his portfolio as his application to the architecture program. We will hear back if he has been accepted or not by June 1st, but honestly I'm not worried. His stuff is pretty much awesome. And I have no reason to be biased, I'm only married to the guy!! :)

If you would like to see the whole portfolio you can download it here.

These are just some of my favorites. I know the watermark is hecka-lame, I just wanted something fast and easy. I'm sure he'll design something mega-fantabulous when he gets around to it. Enjoy!

Life is good!

On April 22, 2009 ...

2010-05-03T23:21:00.009-05:00

Bensen was born! He weighed a hefty 9 lbs 6 oz, was 21 inches long, had a 14.5 inch head and gorilla hands. He was absolutely perfect.

In spite of my best efforts my sweet baby is growing up. This calls for cake! This calls for celebration! This calls for a few mommy tears shed in private. He really was the sweetest, most perfect little baby.

"I'm going to gobble up the whole first year of your life! It is gone for good!"

A little help from big sister seems to be in order!!

Don't worry, Bensen got a lot more fun gifts than this. Just had to document what Brett got for Bensen on his big day. Classic Brett.

He really is the sweetest, most perfect little one year old.

Some 1 year old stats!

Gives kisses on demands
Says Daddy when prompted
Does all the actions for patty cake
Record of 6 unaided steps
Sings along with the piano
Dances along to any music
Loves to eat MEAT and nothing else!
Drinks from a straw and a sippy cup
Loves to snuggle
28 lbs!
4 top teeth, 2 bottom teeth
3 hair cuts to date, and in need of a 4th!

The Inexperienced Mother.

2010-03-25T14:43:00.004-05:00

The inexperienced mother is a firm believer that one of the worst places a 2-year-old can throw up is in her toddler bed. A 4 a.m. adventure should not consist of stripping a bed of sheets, mattress covers, stuffed animals and pillows, two loads of laundry, and a bath. The inexperienced mother hees and haws about such a trial, but finally rearranges bedding with new sheets and blankets and her child in soft new jammies. She brushes and blowdries shiny curls and snuggles down on a couch to comfort her child. The inexperienced mother does not consider how much vomit a 2 year old stomach can hold, and thus the inexperienced mother is surprised to be running towards a toilet, a garbage can, ANYTHING! at 4:30 a.m., unhappy soiled 2 year old in tow. The inexperienced mother has learned 2 new things.

1. When throw-up has occurred, the chances of throw-up occurring again increase dramatically.

2. Throw-up in a toddler bed isn't so bad as throw up on the carpet, on the kitchen floor, in the trash can and on the inexperienced mother.

The inexperienced mother is flexible, she takes such challenges in tow. Soon the child (and the inexperienced mother) is in new pajamas. The child's hair is rewashed, recombed, and redried. A bucket has appeared beside the couch. The inexperienced mother soothes her child, and soon everyone is tucked safely back in bed.

Morning breaks. The 2-year-old is awake and climbing on everything. The inexperienced mother convinces herself the proceedings of the night before were a fluke. The inexperienced mother feeds her 2-year-old cereal and yogurt. The 2-year-old is crazy with delight. The inexperienced mother decides the day could turn out well! Plans ensue, errands are to be run! The family bundles into the car. The day looks bright for the inexperienced mother. She has already forgotten her lesson from the night before. She is violently reminded all over the carseat, inside slightly unzipped jackets, into the cracks of buckles and onto a recently favored book. The inexperienced mother learns a new lesson.

3. Throw up in a toddler bed, on the carpet, or on clothing isn't so bad as throw up in the car.

The inexperienced mother drives home, plans unexecuted. Back into the bath goes the 2-year-old. And the carseat.

The couch is lined with towels, a bucket is on hand, crackers and gingerale are on the menu.

The experienced mother emerges.

ETA: Brett was awake and working with us for most of the night venture. He is fantastic! Amazing! Wonderful! I don't know what I would do without him. He was however, most fortunate to be able to get out of the car and walk to class about 2 minutes after the car episode.

Jujy Standard Time

2010-03-24T14:35:00.000-05:00

If you think you can leave her alone for five minutes . . .

You're wrong.

Picnic!

2010-03-23T23:43:00.004-05:00

Surrounded by good friends.

Bensen eats an apple.

Juliet fears bugs.

Carlsbad Caverns

2010-03-19T14:56:00.000-05:00

A day trip to finish off spring break!

I love that Brett totally looks asleep in this picture.

"Juliet, show me your sandwich!"

Hard to take pictures over the back of your seat.

Besties!

Into the abyss...

In the abyss!

Underground restaurant!

Oscars anyone?

2010-03-08T17:07:00.012-06:00

I love the Oscars. It is Denice's fault. I don't think she even watches them anymore, but I do, and this year I was pleased to actually have seen many of the movies and known who many of the nominated actors were. But every year I am more than happy to critique everything that everyone wears. And since I have no sense of style, no taste to speak of, and no expertise, it is always a lot of fun.

You had to either love or hate robert downey jr. in his giant blue bow tie. I loved it. If anyone could pull it off it was Sherlock holmes/ Tony Starke. I feel bad for his date though -- someone fed her gown through a paper shredder.

Sandra was absolutely gorgeous and elegant in her gown. Tasteful and beautiful and I pretty much would have loved her in a potato sack.

Guess who I didn't love in a potato sack? Yep. Sarah Jessica Parker.

This might have possibly been my favorite gown of the night. Absolutely stunning! Or maybe it was just Demi Moore. Who knows.

You can order an exact replica of Jennifer Lopez's dress here . Or ask Andy Samberg and Lady Gaga to design something similar for you.

Kathryn Bigelow dressed for Prom Night 2010, Tina Fey dressed for the '80s and Hillary Swank forgot to get dressed.

For once Kristen Stewart forwent dressing as a Lady of the Night (gorgeous!)

while miss Sigorney couldn't pass up dressing as Lady Liberty.

And the Best dressed at the Oscar's goes to......

Vera Farmiga, who, in my most humble opinion, chose a dress daring enough for Hollywood, yet elegant enough for the Academy Awards.

And the worst dressed? Miss Charlize Theron.

mmmm. Cinnabon.

Well, those are my best and worst of the Oscars. But really, who am I to judge? I was in my pajamas. And for some strange reason, craving cinnabon.

Enjoy some pictures!

2010-03-07T15:35:00.005-06:00

Juliet's first (unprompted) prayer:

2010-02-08T17:59:00.006-06:00

Heavny Fadder.

Tane-too for Bensen.

Tane-too for daddy.

Tane-too for. . . . daddy.

Tane-too for white.

Tane-too for potty.

Tane-too for fish.

Jesusname Amen.

We got photoshop!

2010-02-03T23:49:00.004-06:00

So. I have to say, there has been this really trendy photography going on where portraits and what not are really contrasty, or overlaid with this yellow or blue filter. And I'll tell you what, I tried everything to recreate some of these pictures. And finally, I asked a trendy photographer.

It's photoshop. It is allll photoshop. I was so very disappointed.

I know some of these effects can be achieved with a holga camera. Which is a very untrustworthy camera. That I don't own. SO. I was oh so very disappointed since I am not the biggest fan of photoshop. I just want to keep photography pure, you know

Well Brett bought photoshop. And so I have been playing around.

And it is a lot of fun.

Enjoy!! (these are before and after, if you couldn't tell!)

What do you think? And don't lie, you won't hurt my feelings.

P.S. I obviously did not take the bottom two photographs.

Best of 2009

2009-12-31T15:45:00.002-06:00

Best Movie: Keep in mind I do not watch movies til they come to redbox. And I don't watch R rated movies. Probably per pure entertainment value my favorite movie this year was Star Trek. I do look forward to seeing Avatar and Sherlock Holmes though!
Best Book: My to read list is huuuuuge this year, and unfortunately I didn't get through much! But I did love The Poisonwood Bible, Ahab's Wife, and East of Eden. Oh and Name of the Wind was one of the best fantasy I have read in a long time.
Best Place to Live: I've only lived in Lubbock this year. And I did not appreciate the snow.
Best TV Show: Still Chuck. My will power alone saved it for another season. I still love Lost though!
Best Video Game: Mario Kart didn't come out this year, but I got it this year, and I have played it plenty!
Best Home-made Dinner: Garlic mushroom chicken! Brett hated it, of course, so I will probably never make it again. Sad.
Best Deal: $750 for a Nikon N90. And I won $500 in a writing contest, so it was really only $250. You can't beat that!
Best New Hobby: I sew now, did you hear?

Yes I backdate.

2009-12-31T13:03:00.000-06:00

At least I've blogged!

Where the Wild things Trick or Treat

2009-10-31T23:05:00.004-05:00

Check out the pumpkin patch this year. :P Brett was so busy this semester, we never made it to a real patch. But we still found some good pumpkins!!

I wish I had gotten a picture of everyone's pumpkins! We had a great concept this year. Unfortunately, no picture. Oh well. Juliet had a lot of fun cleaning out her first pumpkin! And as usual, Brett's pumpkin looked the best! So we got a picture of his, but not even lit up. How lame is that!

Well, I worked really hard on Juliet's costume this year, and I think the concept was lost on a lot of people because I made her pink instead of the traditional Max white. Oh well. It was fun to make. Next year maybe I'll go with something a little more mainstream so she won't be mistaken for a pink demon squirrel.

Happy Bertday!

2009-10-17T22:54:00.000-05:00

For Brett's Birthday we went to the English Building to launch his toy parachute men he got for his birthday (from me, along with other stuff! but we didn't launch his other stuff off the english building.)

Then we had warm chocolate melting cake with the Pratts! (not pictured. Sorry Pratts!)

Brett is officially a quarter century old!

Foutzs at the Fair!

2009-10-02T20:31:00.004-05:00

Last time we went to a petting zoo, Juliet was terrified of the goats. Not so this year! She was chasing sheep, poking goats, pulling duck heads (just like her daddy!) and sticking her finger into bunny cages (bunnies may bite!).

And although she looks like she is a little scared in this photo she is actually laughing hysterically. Not hysterically like going crazy hysterically. She was very happy.

The lovely girls enjoyed their fresh squeezed lemonade. Hattie wasn't too pleased with finding a seed in hers. Melanie was less pleased to find a bee in hers. No picture included.

Yes this is a deep fried snickers. Neither of us had tried it before. Oh man it was delightful. Brett also enjoyed the deep fried funnel cake, deep fried pepper jack cheese, and deep fried hot dogs. I didn't really enjoy my pulled pork sandwhich. I should have asked them to deep fry it for me.

All in all, a good day!
p.s. and yes, Bensen was there. Poor baby gets no lovin'.

She's TWO???

2009-09-29T11:06:00.000-05:00

I can't decide about this two year birthday. I am a little torn. On one hand -- she's already 2? My little baby girl is growing up so fast! But then I think, she's only 2? It seems like she has been in my life forever. I wasn't really me until Juliet was here, and how could I only have been me for these 2 short years?
But no matter how I feel about it, the calendar proves it has been only two years already.

She had a great birthday! Even after we sang and she blew out the candle, she was still singing Happy Birthday the rest of the day.
We love you Juliet!

Selfy Cruise

2009-09-22T10:28:00.000-05:00

I've never really been into selfies since there are usually two of us. But since there was only one of me during this cruise, enjoy the selfy shot!

At the resort before embarkation. First vacation (without kids!) since we got married!

The view from my parents' balcony on the ship. The water was incredibly blue!

Roatan Honduras, reminded me a lot of Chile. But since I didn't get a picture of the city you'll never know why!

Nothing better than having Denice when your husband isn't around!

About to do the zipline.

Crazy fun!

Relaxing on the deck.

Boat in Belize.

Lamanai ruins -- ancient ancestor?? (This is the Mask Temple)

Climbed the high temple and felt it for days!!

Jaguar temple. Belize is hot and humid!!

Ship's Lobby. Valor was just about the dumbest theme a cruise ship could get.

Ocean view dining.

Cool blue bird man in Cozumel. It rained on us the whole day. It was warm though!

Enjoying my deliscious fruity drink in the Ivanhoe theatre.

Well, that was my cruise in selfies!! For a more detailed account (and pictures of other people) check out my facebook album. (coming soon!)

Checklist:

2009-09-11T08:00:00.002-05:00

Simply BOLD what you have done.
I found the original list very France oriented, so I changed some.

1. Started your own blog
2. Slept under the stars
3. Played in a band
4. Visited Hawaii
5. Watched a meteor shower
6. Given more than you can afford to charity
7. Been to Disneyland
8. Climbed a mountain
9. Held a praying mantis
10. Sang a solo
11. Bungee jumped
12. Flown first class
13. Watched a lightning storm at sea
14. Considered yourself an artist
15. Adopted a child
16. Had food poisoning
17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty
18. Grown your own vegetables
19. Broke someone's heart
20. Slept on an overnight train
21. Had a pillow fight
22. Hitch hiked
23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill
24. Built a snow fort
25. Held a lamb
26. Gone skinny dipping
27. Run a Marathon
28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice
29. Seen a total eclipse
30. Watched a sunrise or sunset
31. Hit a home run
32. Been on a cruise (I leave this weekend, I figure this is close enough!)
33. Seen Niagara Falls in person
34. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors
35. Seen an Amish community
36. Taught yourself a new language
37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied
38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person
39. Gone rock climbing
40. Eaten an amazing sandwich
41. Sung karaoke
42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt
43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant
44. Visited Africa
45. Walked on a beach by moonlight
46. Been transported in an ambulance
47. Had your portrait painted
48. Gone deep sea fishing
49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person
50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris
51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling
52. Kissed in the rain
53. Played in the mud
54. Gone to a drive-in theater
55. Been in a movie/commercial
56. Visited the Great Wall of China
57. Started a business
58. Taken a martial arts class
59. Visited Russia
60. Served at a soup kitchen
61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies
62. Gone whale watching
63. Got flowers for no reason
64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma
65. Gone sky diving
66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp
67. Bounced a check
68. Flown in a helicopter
69. Saved a favorite childhood toy
70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial
71. Eaten Caviar
72. Pieced a quilt
73. Stood in Times Square
74. Toured the Everglades
75. Been fired from a job
76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London
77. Broken a bone
78. Been on a speeding motorcycle
79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person
80. Published a book
81. Visited the Vatican
82. Bought a brand new car
83. Walked in Jerusalem
84. Had your picture in the newspaper
85. Read the entire Bible
86. Visited the White House
87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating
88. Had chickenpox
89. Saved someone’s life
90. Sat on a jury
91. Met someone famous
92. Joined a book club
93. Lost a loved one
94. Had a baby
95. Seen the Alamo in person
96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake
97. Been involved in a law suit
98. Owned a cell phone
99. Been stung by a bee

To Bensen on August 25, 2029

2009-08-25T18:48:00.006-05:00

Dear Bensen,
Today has been a hard day. Dad woke up so sick. I asked him to call in to work but of course he wouldn't. We really can't afford it, but I know he is just miserable right now. He is such a good man. Juliet is almost 2 years old, and all that comes with it. It seems like we can't go 15 minutes without some kind of dramatic melt down. The house isn't in great shape, and all of the chores I have wanted to get done today keep getting put off because you won't go to sleep. You are usually such a good sleeper, which makes it all the more frustrating when you are being stubborn! I texted your dad that we were having a hard day, and that I knew that he probably was too. And he responded that he wished it was 20 years later.

That made me start to think, who is Bensen in 20 years? This is you today. Today you are so sweet. You hardly ever fuss, and you almost always smile. Even in my worst moments, you reach for my face with your little fat baby hand as if to say, "I love you Mom. You're doing okay." And then you smile at me and the room is full of angels. Because angels are who want to be in the company of my sweet Bensen baby.
20 years from now you are a missionary. That is how I imagine you. Tall and strong and handsome. I am so proud of you. I know you will have made good decisions because I have felt your spirit and know that you are eager to please your Heavenly Father. The last 20 years will have been hard ones, but good. We will have struggled financially as all new families do (and should!) I will have sent you off to school for the first time with tears in my eyes because you are such a little boy! But you will be marvelous. Maybe you will have been a wonderful student, maybe you just got okay grades, but definitely you will have been a true and loyal friend to those who needed you. Today you are so small, but already I can feel that it is in your nature to be kind.
Time will have gone by so quickly! Did you play football? Or did you swim? Maybe you were in Marching Band and your dad and uncles made fun of you constantly. But soon you will have graduated high school, and I will be wondering what every happened to my sweet baby boy whose smile invited angels into my home.
And then a blink later, you will have disappeared down an airport corridor, and I will have said goodbye to you for two long years.
So today I am writing to my sweet Bensen 20 years from now, because although I can't know who you will be 20 years from now, I know I'll love you as much as I love this sweet pudgy baby I have in front of me today. And while some days seem so hard I wish it could be 20 years later, 20 years from now when I am thinking of you as a grown man far away on his mission, most likely a little part of me is wishing it was 20 years ago, so I could watch you grow up all over again.
I love you so much.
Love,
Mom on August 25, 2009

In the swimming pool!

2009-08-07T22:19:00.006-05:00

Juliet has a love hate relationship with the water, but recently she is leaning more towards love! We bought some floaties for her a few weeks ago, and the first time she put them on she HATED them!! They keep her afloat but they keep her face pretty close to the water, which she didn't like. She is very clingy in the water and never gave the floaties a chance. Well, this week we finally made a break through! I eased her into the water and then just yanked my arms away from her. She bobbed into the water once, her eyes wide in terror and then . . . floated! Terror gave way to surprise, which turned into hysterical laughter. Which turned in to choking. If she opens her mouth her chin dips under water and she gets a mouthful of water. Which she seems to enjoy. Ingesting pool water won't kill an almost 2 year old, will it?
Well by the time we left, she not only loved floating around in the pool but any time I would reach for her she would push me away. It was actually making me nervous because she would really start choking and I'd go to lift her out of the water and she would swim away from me, choking!! What a weird-o.
Enjoy!

3 years ago TODAY!

2009-08-05T22:20:00.001-05:00

3 years ago today I married my sweet heart. He is the best decision I ever made. And I love him. A million bajillion!

2 years ago today my hunny took me to Old Sacramento. I was huge with child. We ate a lot of junk food and had a lot of fun. Except for being huge with child.

1 year ago today my hubby bought me flowers. He also accidentally killed my baby turtle. Oops. We also found out a few days later we were pregnant again. Double oops.

Today my baby love made me pancakes. We exchanged gifts. He went to work. And I missed him while he was gone.

I look forward to a year from today. And the year after that. And the year after that. And the million bajillion years after that.

F is for Foutz!

HAT.

Today I will crochet a hat.

49 Questions Your Spouse Will Answer.

top 10 reasons I hate the Gym.

Why the new Ender's Game movie is STUPID.

The True Story of the Last Thanksgiving.

Congrats on being our biggest fan - PSYCH!

FINGERPAINTING!

Behold. My inner nerd.

So I ran 5k. Again.

Today I ran 5k.

The blog entry that never was.

Cuz she's my Cuz, and she beat Cancer.

An Update, an illegal video, and a flavor seizure.

Will work for donations.

Kristina walks 5000 miles (to kick cancer in the face)

Tickle->Bug->Shudder->Spasm Reflex.

My day at Chick-Fil-A. In which I lie, steal, cheat and lose.

Mixing my lives--- NOOOO!!!!

seven hundred and twelve photos later. . .

New York, Anniversary, Jimmy Fallon, Awesome

Worst case scenario

Thank you note.

Anniversary by Watercolors

I dream of Jimmy (pronounce it Jeemy so it becomes a cool 1960s pop culture reference)

Blue Suede Paint War

How Jimmy Fallon inadvertently made me a person of Walmart.

Dear Kristina Foutz,

Dear Jimmy Fallon: I made you a video.

Dear Jimmy Fallon

We swim!

All my projects.

Easter!

Broken Blogger

Why do I love this picture?

Who Loves the Oscars? Kristina Loves the Oscars.

You can't always get what you want.

Taking back the blog.

For all you wonderful grands and greats!!

2010 going going gone.

Best of 2010

Rows Your Boat

Come let us adore Him -- adorably.

Hard day.

Give me my hair!

Happy Thanksgiving!

Not for Nothing

Guess who doesn't do well in Nursery?

My conversation with Juliet

Me: do you need to go potty?Juj: I went stinkyMe: you need to go stinky in the toilet?Juj: no, I went stinky on the ground.Me: what? Where??Juj: I put it in the toilet.Me: you went stinky on the ground and then put it in the toilet??Juj: yeah with my little hand.

More Midnight Mayhem

Happy Sad Halloween!

Apparently it's bath time.

Juliet's Birthday Party

Pumpkin Patch

Baby Girl turns 3

Time out.

it takes two to make a thing go right

A Delicious Meal

I started running.

The Very Dirty Towel: A Mystery

Lovely Juliet

some snaps of my babies

4th of July!

Back in the water again!

lights, camera, ACTION!

Yay Brett!

On April 22, 2009 ...

The Inexperienced Mother.

Jujy Standard Time

Picnic!

Carlsbad Caverns

Oscars anyone?

Enjoy some pictures!

Juliet's first (unprompted) prayer:

We got photoshop!

Best of 2009

Yes I backdate.

Where the Wild things Trick or Treat

Me: do you need to go potty?
Juj: I went stinky
Me: you need to go stinky in the toilet?
Juj: no, I went stinky on the ground.
Me: what? Where??
Juj: I put it in the toilet.
Me: you went stinky on the ground and then put it in the toilet??
Juj: yeah with my little hand.