So, Today Lewis and I celebrated our 10th wedding anniversary (Hollah) and had a great day. I love him so very much. But this post is not about the mushy...that is for another time, another place. I just quickly wanted to share with ya'll out in blog land a cute kiddo story. So, this morning I was getting breakfast for the kids and waxing sentimental about my wedding day 10 years ago. I was telling them about what time it was when we got married and some things about the temple. Then cute little Savy pipes up "Mom, who babysat us while you were at the temple." I then explained to my darling dear that Mommy didn't have any of them at that time, that it was just daddy and I. Without missing a beat Zachary responded, "So we were up in heaven and Jesus was babysitting us."
So, To Nana, Grandma, Aubree, Jimi, Theresa and anyone else who might have watched these rugrats.....you are all great babysitters....but you've got nothing on the big guy! Love you all.
Well, this is the time of year that the inevitable happens. And no, I'm not talking about the stress of Christmas shopping, finding babysitters for all of our Christmas parties, or just the general hustle and bustle of this busy holiday season. My anxiety comes from of a different source: the fear of being discovered! For all of you parents out there, let me lay it down for you. I have had my Christmas shopping done for about a month now. This means that for the last month Christmas presents have been shopped for, delivered by my friendly neighborhood UPS guy (who I should know on a first name basis, yet strangely, I don't) and hidden in the depths of the basement. (Let's talk about "hidden" for a minute. This is not just your run of the mill "put your kids presents in your closet and hope that they don't go in there."These babies are hidden behind two locked doors, which if the kids manage to get through are yet behind another closed door (the furnace room) that I seriously doubt the kids even know exist!) Even still, let's pretend they even got that far. This is what they would see when they opened the door: a pant-load of amazon.com boxes, with the tops all closed, stacked on top of one another, with absolutely nothing of any worth showing at all!
But let me tell you, last night it happpened. I had the very first of one of my "Christmas" anxiety dreams. Let me break it down for you. You know those dreams where you are back in high school (yet you don't weigh the 105 pounds that you did in high school, which really sucks) you are instead you, in the current day. Now here are a couple scenarios. You have forgotten your locker combination and can't for the life of you seem to remember it, yet you try and try to get that sucker open. OR, there is a certain class that you haven't gone to all semester and now it's time to take the final, only you realize you don't know what in the heck you're going to be tested on. OR you show up to school with only a towel on. I could go on and on with many variations of the same dream, but needless to say, whenever I find myself having a dream like this, I have to step back and wonder what I have ANXIETY about in my life. But, at this time of year, and yes, It happens every year, I know exactly where the source is coming from. So, for less than three more weeks I will continue to experience stress in the form of random and meaningless dreams, until Christmas days arrives, and one more year gone without being discovered. Phew, I don't know how many more years I can pull this off.
Sweet Dreams.
Well, the countdown has begun to my very first ever marathon. This Saturday I will be running in the St. George marathon. I can't believe the day is almost here. I am trying not to think about it too much because the thought of it makes me want to poop my pants. ( A very real possiblity as all you runners out there know.) Anyway, I am asking for the help of all of you. For me, running is a very mental thing, (Yes, I am kind of mental) and I was trying to think of a way that would help me get through those 26.2 miles...since I guess taking speed is illegal. So, I was talking to someone in my ward and she was telling me that when her sister ran a marathon she called up all her family members and asked them what "mile" they wanted. She then wrote all of her family members and what mile they were on her arms and whenever she ran that mile she thought of that person. Well, as much as I liked the idea, I decided to kick it up a notch (because I'm just like that.) So here's what I came up with...I want everyone to give me a song to run to. It doesn't matter what it is, who sings it, whatever. I will then put that song into my play list and viola! whenever that song comes on I will think of YOU! So make em good, make em creative, make em yours.I am excited to see what you will tell me. There are not limits, heck if I am running to High School Musical (thanks Zach and Kylie) then I can run to anything. I love you all. See you at the finish line!
Once upon a time in the house of Nuttall, there lived a happy family with four beautiful children, and two, (ahem), semi-cute pets. One day while the king was out of town, these two playful bunnies were found missing. Upon searching the entire kingdom, it was discovered that the hares, once suspected being naughty bunnies for running away, were actually chased by some viscous animals. Fearing for their lives the rabbits took cover under the royal palace. (Read: under the deck.) One bunny was immediately discovered shaking in his very boots, but alas, the second rascal was not to be seen. It was soon discovered that the bunny had fallen down the window well. The royals subjects were much dismayed, for they know that the queen was a royal wimp and could not, would not, get into the window well to rescue this precious animal because her aracnophobia was too, too overwhelming. At a loss for what to do, it was soon impressed upon the royal children to call the "Bunny Whisperer. " (AKA Grandpa.) As soon as he could tear himself away from beautifying his beautiful palace, he hurried down to rescue the traumitized little bunnies. With gloves and gentle hands he wisked those bunnies to saftey and the royal children (and royal queen) will forever be grateful for his bravery. And the queen and the children lived happily every after, and counted down the minutes until the king of the house would FINALLY get home. The End
Dearest Grandpa, You are the absolute very best! Thank you for coming to our house to save our darling pets and for not being a wimp when it came to black widows and wasps. We love you and will always remember how you saved our precious (Ahem) Pets! We love you so, and will always remember you as the "Bunny Whisperer!" Love, Zach, Kylie, Savannah and Braden (Oh, and Mom too.)
I hope that what I wrote here does some of the justice to how I feel about my sweetest final child. Happy Birthday Baby Bauer.
The surprise party:
So, Let's pretend that someone is throwing you a surprise party. The only thing is, you don't want a party. You don't like surprises, your hair needs to be cut, you don't want to have a bunch of people messing up your house...you can think of a million reasons why a surprise party would not suit you this year. Yet a surprise party is planned nonetheless and you have no choice in the matter. So you go, but not without dragging your feet and complaining the whole way. And some people will understand that you just don't want to have a party this year, and some people wonder why you just can't get over it. It's a surprise party for heavens sake, and who wouldn't be excited about that. So you get to the party, and before you know it you're starting to enjoy yourself. Did you know that there would be cake at this party???And presents?? And look at all these people that care about you. You're having so much fun that pretty soon you wonder what it was you were so reluctant about in the first place. A surprise party isn't all that bad. In fact, it's sort of Fun. And later that night, when you're at home reflecting on your day you realize this: A surprise party was just what you needed...and someone loved you just enough to throw you one.
To my dear Braden....I will always and forever be grateful that you graced our home with your sweet spirit. Someone knew just what they were doing sending you into our lives. We love you, we love you and wish you the very best birthday ever. I can't believe how fast this last year has gone by. With you, my dear, sweet son, we definitely ended on a "high note." I love you.
You Have Stolen my Heart
