Peter the Carpenter

The carpenter is at it again…after visiting with friends who had made a wooden snowman family, PW was hooked. He couldn’t stop talking about, planning and designing his own snowman family. And once he start cutting, we didn’t see him for the rest of the weekend until it was done.

To be honest, I did not see his vision. It wasn’t until I was pulled from my nice warm bed to the cold patio to see his final creations that I got it. And they really did come out pretty cute!

I think Auggie’s top hat is my favorite!

photo 2 (37) photo 1 (33)

G Thang

Peter and I never text each other so when we do, I come across old messages – like way old. I saw one the other day from our annual San Diego trip. We had been enjoying the beach until PW was stung by a stingray  (or a creature as B calls it) and went back to the room to boil his foot (no joke, that’s what takes the pain away) and a beer.

Because really, who doesn’t love a reference to a Snoop Dogg rap when discussing their unborn child?

Also? Ignore the shnicklfritz comment (too much to explain) and the Big Momma is my mom (personality really, not size) – people tend to frown on women 8 months pregnant drinking on the beach…

God Help Me

Peter ordered this for after his hunting trip:

I have no words…

If you are a fan of deer and elk meat, please message me so I can get you a BIG package. I support the hunting. I do not support me eating the spoils. Picking buck shot out of my teeth is not on my bucket list, FYI Peter.

Spelling Lessons

Apparently I used the wrong version of counsel when writing an email to Peter and my mom this week. This morning I got a post it note on my desk:

I thanked Captain Spelling and then went back about my business. He then proceeded to make fun of my spelling abilities, which, he has known for the last 13 years are less than stellar. I told him that the way I would remember the difference between council and counsel is that the S in legal counsel is for shithead.

That was enough to make Captain Spelling retreat from the office. And gave me an excellent pneumonic device for remembering the difference between the two words.

Happy Anniversary

Peter and I were talking on my birthday and I asked if when we started dating at 17 if he had ever thought we’d be together at 30. His response was that he knew we’d be together at 30 and beyond. The man has a way with words alright.

Case in point: on our first official date, we went to our high school football game. He told me throughout the game that he heard a song and it made him think of me. I was so smitten and couldn’t wait to hear what it was. As we drove from the game to the dance, he put in a CD and smiled sweetly as Sir Mix-a-Lots I Like Big Butts blasted through the speakers. I couldn’t help but crack up. His sense of humor and willingness to take a HUGE risk just made me like him even more.

October 1999

We spent the next four years after high school living it up at UofA. I have plenty of pictures to prove all the fun we had, however, most of the people in the pictures now have respectable jobs where being dressed as an Olympian from the 80s with a 40 in their hand isn’t quite the image they want out there. And so save myself some time asking them for permission or cropping them out, I have found this picture that is a good indicator of the typical date dash.

Yes, yes my dress is made of plastic wrap. Thank you for noticing. Also please not that it is not see through – 4+ rolls does make for a lovely “anything but clothes” costume.

And on June 24th, 2005, in 110 degree heat, we finally got to say “I Do”.

I’m aware my extra large feet are not my best quality, but those were awesome shoes…

Happy 7th anniversary PW! Can’t wait for 70 more!

The DD

I have a theory about being pregnant and those around me drinking. My theory is this: I obviously can’t drink, so why wouldn’t I be the designated driver? And why wouldn’t I be the DD for as many friends as possible? Really, just because I can’t enjoy many many many glasses of wine, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t and have someone to drive you home safely and mostly for free.

I say mostly not because I would charge people for my taxi services – I learned my lesson charging for driving servicse one night in college. My parent’s asked me if I would drive them and their friends to and from dinner. I agreed, but for a price. And because my mother is far more devious than I am,  they made me wear a chauffeur hat, all sat in the back seats and instructed me to “not turn around”. Major backfire.

I wouldn’t volunteer to drive and then collect actual dollar bills…I say mostly because I do expect reciprocity. And I do keep track. If I drive a group of friends to dinner as the DD, in about 5-6 months, I will be calling them to go to dinner and I will expect them to drive, no questions asked.

PW gets the worst of it. And this time around he’s much more aware of his tab. With Baylor, my sobriety lasted a little longer than the standard gestation of a baby for breast feeding, severe sleep deprivation and because it took awhile to get back into my skinny jeans and my drinking shoes (who’s a lightweight? me!). Therefore his tenure as non negotiable designated driver lasted close to a year. Which is why this time, he is keeping a much closer eye on his tally.

Big Pig 2012

This weekend marked the second annual Big Pig Hunt by PW and his buddy Brian. And “thankfully”, this year it was a success.

Last year, the dynamic duo drove north and east to a remote location to hunt where they endured freezing temperatures, rain and no Javalina. This year they stuck closer to town, had 75 degree temps and still no pigs. The little devils are very attracted to trash so they terrorize neighborhoods and recycle bins rather than forage for food in the desert. I tried to tell PW they should just rent a house on the fringes of town, sit on the patio and pick the little beasts off as they knock over the trash cans. But the MEN like to camp. And hike. And pack a really ridiculous amount of gear – so much so that they were prepared for any scenario except for the apocalypse, and even then they would have been able to put up a good fight.

Sunday morning I checked my email to find this:

And yes, it’s only half a pig. Don’t ask why because I didn’t want to know. After seeing this, I began to panic wondering if Babe was coming home with PW and worse, what the hell he was going to do with it.

Thankfully, after a few pictures, Babe went home with Brian. I never did get a clear answer on what was going to become of him (her actually) so my guard is up for any suspicious packages from place like “Tom’s Tawdry House of Taxidermy” or “Craig’s Creative Creations”. Much like the beaver pelt PW bought in Montana one year, I threatened that things like that tend to have “accidents” at our house so they should really go do his office to live…which is why he meets clients in the conference room.

(Almost) ManCave

PW dreams of the day when we will own a home that has enough space for him to have his own office where he can hang whatever dead animal on the wall that he wants, watch ESPN all the time and smoke cigars. Until then, he’ll have to make due with his newest creation; the outdoor TV:

I bought this armoire at a neighbor’s yard sale like 3 years ago. I had no idea what I was going to do with it, but I knew I had to have it. I envisioned it on the patio full of pots of succulents – the pots never materialized, but three years in the elements gave it an awesome finish.

The finished product looks a little rough, but it wasn’t quite finished when I snapped this pic. I’m planning to put some pots around it to add a little greenery – right now you stare at the gas main and the grill (which PW thinks is AWESOME, because what man doesn’t like staring at his grill?). But unlike the succulents, a pot with a vine trailing over the side of the armoire is GOING TO HAPPEN.

I have to say, it is pretty cool. Peter also got to show off his manly man skills by removing the two shelves from the cabinet, sanding the inside to make the paint a little more even and then reusing the shelves to make a box to set the TV on. To say he is thrilled with his creation is an understatement. If it hadn’t started raining Sunday afternoon, he would probably still be out there. I think it’s greatness has yet to be realized but it’s coming during March Maddness. A little sun tan, a little beer and no waiting for a table at a sports bar? Priceless.

House Happenings

There’s always something amusing going on at our house. I’ve never really figured out if it’s actually funny, or if we’re so deprived of quality time outside of each other that we just think we’re funny.

Peter and I love to hike. It’s a little more tedious now with the muchkin since one of us has to carry her in the backpack – which totals around 40 pounds, thus making uphill hiking a bit challenging. But Peter has found a great trail with little elevation change which makes for an enjoyable and manageable workout. A few weeks ago we had returned from our outing and I asked Peter (he would say I yelled this at him, but really, he exaggerates) to take off his boots before coming in the house. I am both the energy and cleanliness nazi. When he wants to vacuum and mop (quick Peter! Where do we keep the mop??), he can track in as much dirt as he wants.

About 10 minutes later, I was in the kitchen and noted Peter walking with his boots on, in the back door, across the living room and out the front door. After stepping outside, he proceeded to take off his boots. The following the conversation that ensued:

“Did you just walk across the house with your boots on in order to take them off outside a different door?”

Silence.

“What’s the right answer here?”

Aaaannnd that’s why he’s a good lawyer.

Christmas 2010 = Success

I hope all of you had a wonderful Christmas, we certainly did. Our goal was to cut back on the retail side of the holiday as mentioned in Christmas in August. And the result was a success. We had a wonderful holiday with little stress and a lot of fun.

The only real downer of the weekend was our annual spat driving to my step sister’s house Christmas morning. We get together with all of our family and in a deluge of paper, open presents. It’s crazy and so much fun. But for the third year in a row, there has been an argument that has thankfully ended happily while we drive. Not sure if it’s the early hour, the getting-three-people-out-the-door-on-time or what, but there’s always something. Last year the climax of the fight was me saying “It’s done! I’ve already bought all the gifts so no matter what we spent, it’s done! So you’re going to drop it and we’re going to have a happy, goddamn Christmas!!”. Followed by three seconds of silence and then a car full of laughter. You know it’s bad when swear words are in the same sentence as Christmas. This year’s argument ended similarly with me saying “I might be grouchy, but you’re throwing out the bait and I’m taking it!!”. Silence…me realizing that none of that made any sense, laughter and then it’s over.

Updated with a great pic of me and Ms.B: