random

+ I've been unsubscribing from random emails all day. Carter's. Children's Place. Southwest Rapid Rewards. Costco. The list goes on. And on. It's quite liberating to click unsubscribe fifty times in one day. Already my in box feels fifty pounds lighter.

+ I've dubbed these cookies Crack Cookies. Because once you start eating them, you will never stop. And they have no gluten. And just a few ingredients, so you can probs make them right. Now. And you should. (I use light brown sugar, and they're just simply the most addicting thing.)

+ Want to hear the easiest crock pot meal ever? Get some raw chicken (I trim the fat) and throw in some salsa. Any kind will do. And cook on low for 4-6 hours. Then shred and consume. Quickly. So as to create an instant food baby. Tonight I used green and red salsa. Such fanciness. For fun, add sour cream at the end. Makes a creamy taco filling. Delish. (Our girls usually eat it without a taco shell, and with heaps of guacamole.)

+ Our yard. Lest you're worried (I knew it!), we have photos. Lots of them. I think I'm going to do a massive photo dump one day when this saga is over. It's a lot of work. I'm getting really buff and tan. (Ha.) The patio (with its plant-y accouterments) is done. I've been fighting the Amazon all week (the weeds). Calluses and blisters much? And I think we'll either sod or seed on Saturday. Sod = moolah. Seed = not so much moolah, but much less of a guarantee. Quandary. 

+ I signed my Belle up for preschool this week. It's been a decision I've been laboring over and fighting for months now. Fact of the matter is, I'm not at all convinced of the necessity of preschool. In fact, the only thing I'm convinced of is it is unnecessary. But I do know that my sweet - timid and cautious - Annabelle needs to know that she can be brave without me there. Otherwise Kindergarten will be a nightmare for her. We went and met her teacher - who was adorbs - and looked at her facility. I think both Annabelle and I both immediately felt at home. And I signed on the dotted line right away. I still fear Kindergarten, but I'm feeling good about Preschool.

+ My girls turn four and two. Next month. What the?

+ Speaking of the girl who turns two, the poor soul isn't done teething yet. Is this normal? I feel like this is NOT normal. And results in sad baby. Kind of breaks my heart. 

+ So I haven't worn foundation or base or whatever those types of products are called for years. I was trying to cover old acne scars, and one day I decided I didn't care. Well, my sister showed me this product. Guys. It really is a magic potion. Like real live witchcraft in a tube. Go buy it.

Photos courtesy of Aunt Don Don, via her i phone.

lighthouse lovers

So I love lighthouses. It's not really rational. I can't explain where the love comes from, especially given that I grew up in an entirely landlocked state. And the particular part I hail from is basically dry desert. The exact opposite of any lighthouse climate. But love them I do.

North Carolina's Outer Banks are home to some of the most widely recognized Northern American lighthouses, as well as the tallest one in North America - Hatteras. (Apparently Poland has the tallest lighthouse.) We visited these lovely landmarks when Belle was a baby (and carried her to the top of one). And we visited again with two babies.

This time, Annabelle surprised us with a fervent plea of "Can I pleeasssse climb to the top?" I was hesitant because they're tall, she's short, and she tends to whine when "her legs are soooo tired." But I snapped out of it when it hit me: ANOTHER FELLOW LIGHTHOUSE LOVER?! She met the height requirement within a centimeter, so climb we did. 

She climbed to the top of Currituck (the all brick, my favorite), Bodie (pronounced "body" with straight black and white stripes), and Hatteras (with swooping black and white stripes).

And every time she climbed, she was thrilled. It was such an adventure, and reaching the top was a giant victory. These pictures here aren't posed; it's me just pretending that my baby isn't hundreds of feet in the air and shooting pictures from the hip so I can simultaneously block her from falling.

In reality, it would be impossible to fall. But you know. Paranoia. Me. We're best friends. 

It's always fulfilling when you have this idea in your head for your kids, and it actually works. We try to create little experiences like this for our babies, and they often bomb. But this time it worked. And it was particularly awesome to see my baby loving lighthouses like me. By the end of the trip, she'd scaled three lighthouse towers, by herself. She knows them all by name and has declared Hatteras her favorite. ("Is that okay Mommy? I know Currituck is your favorite. Is it okay that Hatteras is my favorite?")

Of course. Because fact is, you have a favorite in the first place. Welcome to the club baby. :)

sisterhood

Well, we'd been home for far too long. It'd been like a week. So I packed my bags, threw a bunch of toys in the car, strapped the girls in, and headed to St. George. Yes, I know I still have NC photos to post and stories to tell (oh, do I ever). But let's just talk about this:

The reason for the trip? All the sisters were together. One sister lives in Texas, two live in St. George (where my mom also lives), and I'm in Salt Lake. So we are rarely all together. And while it's never enough time, let me tell you what. I am one very lucky girl. To have that beautiful woman for my mother (SERIOUSLY WHY DOESN'T SHE AGE?). To have those beautiful girls for my sisters and my ever-constant friends. (Also, please note our carbon copy faces.)

We're growing up and changing. But our sisterhood never does. No matter the differences, no matter the changes, we get together and find the common ground of love and laughter and chocolate. No lie, that stuff runs in our veins. 

These photos are by the lovely Jostlyn of Roz Photography. Many thanks to her for capturing us so perfectly. (Find Roz Photography on Facebook here or check out her blog here.)

washed away

The ocean. I never get tired of it.  Sometimes I feel like if I just stand and watch and listen long enough, my worries and anxieties, the silly things I bottle up, get washed away. They're deposited in the sand and whisked away by the tide. Just like that, with the rhythm of the earth, so many of the little things that plague a paranoid mind like mine are swept away. And anything that does remain has been been tumbled about just enough to remove the sharp edges. 

Of course, the girls loved the sand. Even our "won't touch a toe to that icky stuff" baby dared to venture forth this time. And loved it. We've got two beach babies on our hands it seems. They take the sand. I take the tide. And Jess takes the seashells. If Jess is near an ocean, you will find him at dawn, camera gear tied about him, eyes sharpened and looking for beautiful shells to bring home to his babies.

And in the end, it's a win win for everyone.

home again (again)

So last Tuesday, we packed our two checked bags, four carry ons, two car seats, and one stroller onto an east-bound airplane again. I swear this isn't normal for us, this picking up and leaving and taking babies on airplane after airplane, but we've got a few things going for us:

1. The girls both travel great. I think this is a combination of careful planning and pure practice. 

2. They are both at a great age to travel. Neither has scholarly obligations, and Lou is still a "lap infant."

3. Jess is able to take the time right now, so take it he does.

This time we headed back to our old stomping grounds, North Carolina. We spent most of our time in the Outer Banks, but also managed to squeeze in some Durham time as well. It was the perfect combination of nostalgia and new. (Also, it was humid. Wet, sticky, hot. I found myself fairly internally outraged most the time. Did I really live there?)

This is par for the course, but we have a million photos. Including a good number by Annabelle, which I'm starting to think may become a regular segment around here. I have a ton to sort through. But for now, a smattering.