smartypantsbaby.

So. My niece is darling. I'm crazy about her, and she could never do anything wrong as far as I'm concerned. She could scream at me all day, giving me nothing but poopy diapers and I'd still think she was perfect. I know I'm not objective. I realize that.

So someone tell me the truth on this: is it sort of amazing for a 16 month old to be singing the abcs/ counting to 20?

ABCs.

Counting to 20.

(she whispers 8 and 9, and gets mixed up around 16)

I almost forgot! While we were sitting in the pool, Mimi said a sentence (and she wasn't just repeating after us- she said it on her own)! What was the sentence you ask? "I love waden." (Waden is her word for water.) Naturally, I was trying to get her to say it the rest of the trip.

ps- melody is calling me at the very beginning because the women's gymnastics finals during the olympics was just starting.

So. I know mimi doesn't annunciate everything perfectly, but it's still pretty great, right?!

I might be wrong, but I don't think I started counting or singing till I was a lot older. Then again- I'm nothing super special when it comes to letters or numbers. (But if you need help finding a kate spade purse on sale or eating massive amounts of snow cones, I'm so your girl.)

I guess I'm just super in love with my favorite little girl, that's all...

palm trees and baby snuggles...

Hi.

Its been a while. 

Sorry, I've been having a wild summer in the sun. What have I been doing, you ask? 

Everything. And nothing. 

I'll be honest: more nothing than everything. 

Gid and I have been making lots of trips to salmon to visit his family, I've been doing lots of photoshoots on the weekends, I've had a few dancy expeditions, and a few weeks ago I was lucky enough to take a trip with some of my family to kauai. 

There's alot of details, so I'll just say this: my family is sort of the best.

We're not perfect. 

We're actually semi-dysfunctional most of the time. 

I think that's half the fun.

And here's a little video I put together for us to remember this trip by. 

ps- Don't you love Matt Costa, friends? Reminds me of my sophomore year in college...

26.

Every year it comes: July. And it always brings the same sun kissed days: sweet Canada day. Independence day, with its glorious fireworks. July 24th, with its pioneer quaintness.  Did you know July is national blueberry month? Did you know it is also national hot dog month? It is. Supposedly. According to the internet. July also had friday the 13th this year. I suppose it would be spookier if it wasn't so beautiful outside. This July brings a special gift: the beginning of the summer olympics. Can't wait. Only comes every four years. But every July-- every single one brings the 14th. Directly following the 13th. It's my birthday. The 14th, I mean.

I have a lot of friends who have graduated from the "excited about my birthday" phase and have moved on to the "I'm old and unaccomplished" phase. I never used to get it. I mean- we're 80s babies. We're not "old" for at least another few decades, right?! It drove me nuts. This year, though- I started to kind of get it. Its not that I don't feel accomplished; I do. And its not that I feel old; I don't. People tell me all the time that I look young for my age, and when I rented a car to go to Texas, the guy spent about 30 seconds squinting back and forth from my drivers license to me making sure that I was truly 25 or older.

I don't feel old. I just am starting to get why people my age do.

One of my friends wrote a post on her blog recently about the frustration of time going by and finding yourself in the same place you were when you started. I ached for her for a split second, because I can relate. Sometimes I feel like I've been stuck -emotionally, mentally or physically- and I just can't get out of the rut, whatever it is.

And so when July came around this year, I was antsy. Its been a weird summer anyway, and I found myself wondering how I would celebrate. Count the hairs on my head that fade from deep brown to auburn to blondish and finally to a silvery white? Thats a little pathetic. Go shopping? A little better. Watch episodes of boy meets world? That seemed pretty legit. My mom surprised me for a week long visit which was THE best present I could have asked for. My birthday consisted of fun errands, shopping at bookstores, trying to stay dry from a last minute rainstorm (oh sweet rain), and staying warm drinking soup at a local cafe. We finished the night off by going to a dance production in the conference center theatre showcasing some of our choreography. Simple day. Simple and lovely.

 It was sort of awesome. Low key. And awesome.

And as I blew out the candle on the slice of marzipan cake that gid bought me, I decided to just be grateful. Its been kind of an amazing 26 years. And by kind of, I mean totally.

Thanks for the sweet birthday wishes, friends.

the 4th in photos...

Thank you sweet bountiful for the lovely fireworks. 

Thank you sweet lanterns for making our home festive.

And thank you sweet idaho for your traditions that we love so dearly.

and one more thing:

So the same neighbors who sold us our new entertainment center (see post below) gave us some oak floor panels that snap together. 

Gid didn't seem super interested when they offered them to us. Scratch that. He seemed very UNinterested in them. I'm guessing because he thought he'd end up doing all the work (which- to be fair- he usually does).

before

They were going to throw them out. 

And then I was like, "not on my watch".

And then, while Gid was at work, I gutted our bedroom, cleaned the dirty tile floor, put the wood in, put the bed, the boxsprings, the bedframe, the nightstands and the laundry baskets back and it looks about 1000% better. 

The end.

after

Yay for not having to worry about gross tile on my feet ever again in this apartment.

old, but new.

Remember our apartment from this post?

Remember how its so great?

Me too.

I love our apartment. In fact, when we finished putting the last picture on the wall, I told gideon I loved it so much I'd never change a thing. He gave me a knowing smile.

He knows me pretty well I guess.

This last weekend, it just so happens that a good friend of ours was moving out of our little village of apartments, and she happened to be selling the sweetest little entertainment center (among other things) for dirt cheap. It was when I was baby-sitting her sweet little boy over at her place that I really began to want it-- not because I thought it would fit into our apartment necessarily, but because it was so darling, and I wanted it to go to a good home. (They really loved it, but because of the move, they were desperate to sell it. Hence the amazing price.)

When I got home from babysitting, I casually mentioned to gideon that our friends had a really adorable entertainment center they were selling.

He was silent, but his eyes said something along the lines of, "how could we possibly fit one more piece of furniture into this 480 square feet, alyssa??".

He was right (as always), and I knew it. All the wood in our apartment is either espresso or black. The entertainment center was a creamy color. No matchy. Also- we have like zero extra space, but I was sure if I maneuvered our furniture there would be plenty of room for a new furniture family member. I went back and forth for a few hours. For a while I'd convinced myself it would be an absolutely ridiculous investment. Sure- it was darling. Just not for us.

.......

Or so I thought. I was sure I'd made up my mind. But the thought of the country french cream wood finding its way to a place where the owners might not appreciate its rustic charm kept haunting me. So I came up with a layout of an appropriate location for it within our humble home, and presented it to Gideon. After quizzing me on the measurements, the functionality, and the longterm plan, he went for it.

Our neighbors were pretty happy to be getting rid of it.

But not as happy as I was to welcome it to our apartment.

I know in the picture it might look a little more cramped, but its really not. I think it adds a sense of friendliness to our little home, wouldn't you say?

And even though it's not new new-- its new to us. And I sort of love it. Alot. 

What do you think, friends? Which do you like better? The old way, or the new way?

 (If you don't like it, maybe don't comment for a few weeks-- I'm still basking in the honeymoon stage of a good purchase.)

she tucked her coral lipstick away and floated back to the party...

Just a side note- not a deep post today:

I got a kate spade bag for $55.  It normally runs for a little over $300.

 I've never spent this much on a handbag.
But I love it, and treat it like a baby. 

Its sitting on my bed right now. I never let anything sit on my bed. 

Also- I'm going to the beach in July. So I bought a swimsuit. Less than $15, thanks to a little blemish that got me a discount. Super cheap. 

(No doubt in compensation for the crazily expensive-- 

yet unbelievably clearanced-- handbag.)

And as I blog, I have another window open with some really adorable (and clearance- I swear) flip flops that I may or may not purchase depending on how much self control I have at this hour....

Time will tell. 

I don't know why- I just thought I'd share. 

...I love my bag.

reunite.

Last weekend there was the first ever Contemporary Dance Theatre reunion for alumni dancers of BYU Idaho. I actually barely made the invite- I was on the very last CDT outreach before the university formed a new company called Dance Alliance. 

 (The main difference between CDT and Dance Alliance is that CDT focused on modern styles whereas Dance Alliance focuses on many different genres.)

 I have people ask a lot which company I prefer, and I'm always a little unsure on how to respond. 

Its like picking if I like my arms or legs better.

I can't decide if I prefer Dance Alliance over CDT, but I will say this: 

My first year of CDT was the absolute best environment for me to develop and nurture my understanding and love of dance. 

Something about the director- Jennifer Wadsworth, the dancers I was blessed to work with, and the movement that we took on tour- it planted within me such an intrigue and admiration for movement.

I also have to point out that most of the dancers on the touring team that year (many of which were at the reunion last weekend) served as a major inspiration for me during my undergraduate education. At the time, I'm sure they had no idea I existed. 

It's kind of funny how you can be completely star struck by someone you don't really know- and meanwhile, they think they're completely ordinary. You know?

 By the time I graduated, I'd gone on four tours (one with CDT, and three with Dance Alliance), and had a fierce desire to continue studying and pursuing movement creation and performance. 

There's no way I'd be where I am (or married to who I am for that matter) if I hadn't waltzed into the wrong audition room in January of 2005. 

And I couldn't be more grateful.

I have to say- dancing in my old studio, with my undergraduate teacher Wendy Bone was such a breath of fresh air. 

There's something about dancing on that campus that is magic. 

You can roll your eyes and say I'm silly, but its absolutely true. 

And we got to see the Dance Alliance show. 

(including choreography from Gideon and yours truly)

Magic.

As always.

And when you're driving back to real life from extravadance,
its always nice to be reminded you're home.

Loving life so much today, 

ps- thank you to Karli and Justin, who let us stay with them in their lovely home. An extra BIG thank you to Karli for forcing me to watch our first tour video, for all the memories and giggles, and especially for helping me plan for big dreams to come.

ache.

Yesterday I woke up with a small pinch in my upper back. It was annoying, but not enough to stop me from taking a 2 mile run, showering, getting ready for the day, going grocery shopping, and running the rest of my errands. 

Around 3 in the afternoon, I could tell that the pain was a little more serious than a pinch. So I took a nice long hot shower, and tried to rub it out. No dice.  It was starting to seriously hurt. 

Around 6 I wasn't walking. Just sitting on my bed wincing. I took the maximum suggested dose of ibuprofen, and didn't notice a single difference in the level of pain I was experiencing. 

At 8 I called my awesome massage therapist friend (soon to be full time employed) and begged her to work on it. I had relief for about 1/2 an hour before the pain came back with a vengeance despite the second hot shower and additional heat I put on it. 

And around 10pm I was just silently crying myself to sleep because it just hurt so so so bad.

This morning I woke up around 9:45. Rough, rough night. Soo sore. I alternated packs of frozen fruit (strawberries, blackberries, raspberries, and peaches if you're curious) on my back just long enough before they'd come close to thawing. (Um- we don't have an ice pack.) It was when I began to alternate heat and ice that I finally felt some miniscule improvement. As I was in a hot bath I felt a soft shift in my shoulder and heard a distinct pop.

Sigh of relief. 

I'm still in pain, but its a cake walk compared to last night. Oh-And after Gid got home from a long day at work and caught me with a frozen ice cream sandwich (it was wrapped and Soy by the way- so its not like either of us was going to eat it) on my back, he immediately went to the store to buy me more powerful meds (instead of going to a cool work event like he'd planned), and brought back a proper ice pack, red-vines, extra strength tylenol, and a pint of mango sorbet.

There are 2 morals to this story:

- Having a rib come out of alignment sucks. Always has, always will. 

(Sometimes I really miss working for a chiropractor.)

- My husband is kind of the best. And when I say kind of, I mean absolutely. 

Wishing everyone (including me) a pain free evening,

camp rose.

Confession: I've been keeping a little secret for the last 12 months.

Mom when she was my age. The woman doesn't age...

I've been planning a surprise party for my sweet sweet madre's 60th Birthday. 

With Uncle Danny (I think?)

My mother may look pretty normal, and perhaps she would be- if normal included being impossibly lovely, unassumingly sweet, creative and darling.

 One of many reasons she's extraordinary? 

My mother raised the craziest kids in the world: me and my siblings. 

Little Ephraim

Little Sammy

The rest of the clan (except me-- I was in her tummy though...)

Mom taking a moment to daydream while entertaining ephraim and keeping an eye on me...

lots of babysitting along the way (ephraim is the blond chub in the middle)

My mother is an adventurer. An explorer. She'd take sleeping under the stars over any fancy resort. She's stunning. And happier wearing sweats in the back yard while gardening than she'd ever be wearing expensive jewelry, driving luxury cars, or wearing designer labels. 

I think she honestly may be the least superficial individual on the face of the planet. 

Things of value include service, time spent outdoors, and teaching children. 

The thing most valuable to her: time spent with family. 

Well. It just so happens, that getting our entire immediate family together is very difficult to arrange. Even during Thanksgiving and Christmas, getting everyone under one roof is a little iffy.

This is why, about a year ago, I began calling my siblings and asking them to mark off the weekend of mom's birthday this june. Most of the kids in my family (including me and gid) didn't even know where we'd be in a year, so the chances of us all getting together in the same town on the same weekend seemed pretty bleak. 

So, you can imagine my excitement when everyone's schedules magically seemed to come together for this one weekend in june. Seriously, there must've been angels working hard to make sure that all five kids plus spouses/girlfriends were able to make it (plus one aunt, a grandma, two grandbabies and a crazy busy hubby-- my dad). 

A few months before, I began sending weekly emails out with updates and instructions. We decided to give the weekend event a name: Camp Rose. You see, my mother's name is Rosemary. And she loves to go camping. So even though I knew I couldn't take us camping, I thought I could bring the camp to our little texas home.

I love that Mom actually thought her birthday would be a pretty quiet weekend initially. 

Sweet Aunt Patti flew to Texas amidst business trips and family time to be there for camp rose.

It was when mom decided to run to the store with Grandma (to pick up a few toys for the grandkids) that the magic really began to happen. Dad, Gid, me, Melody, Andy and mimi were already home. Sam, Nicki, and their sweet boy gabe came over, followed by Josh and Melissa. Ephraim and Jeanne parked their car a block away so mom wouldn't suspect anything. My AUNT flew into town. We wrote out the words S-U-R-P-R-I-S-E on paper and each held a letter. 

And you know what when my mom got home-

 she was really really really happy. 

And surprised. 

And seeing that smile- 

is worth any 14 hour drive in my book. 

 I kept finding mom in corners wiping her red nose, 

and hearing her giggle to herself and say, "I'm just so happy". 

(Thank you to Aunt Julie and Uncle Steve for this DELICIOUS edible arrangement)

One of the last things we did as a family was each share cherished memories of mom. 

Even I was blown away hearing the way my siblings told of what an impact my mother's grace, patience, and poise affected who they are today. 

Even my usually rough around the edges and incredibly sarcastic brothers. 

I couldn't believe the tenderness that was in their memories. 

My aunt made us all laugh by telling stories of my mom when she was a kid.

(Not much has changed, eh?)

 My grandmother gave sweet memories of my mother as a baby.

4 generations of lovely ladies

 My father (who gave twice the requested amount of memories) 

declared his adoration and love for the woman of his dreams. 

Even the grandkids participated. 

There's no amount of diamonds or jewelry that would have meant as much to Mom as hearing these stories.

Oh. And there was a party. 

A huge party that we had over 50 people show up to. 

When I told mom we'd be having guests over to celebrate her birthday the first thing she said to me was, "Oh Alyssa, no one is going to come." Remember how I said she was unassuming? 

People came all right. Lots. 

We had guests late into the evening still hanging around so they could get a chance to tell mom how much they love and appreciate her. 

She was giggly all evening, wiping her eyes every now and then. 

(Certainly when we lit sparklers and sang her happy birthday.) 

What an evening to remember.

And one last surprise: I began asking close friends and family if they'd be willing to write mom a letter of thanks and appreciation. My goal was to give her 60 letters for her 60th birthday. I had over 80 responses. 

To all my sweet loved ones who helped me create these lasting memories for a truly remarkable woman: I thank you with all of my heart. This was a weekend she won't forget anytime soon.

Happy Birthday to the woman who has inspired me more than I can say.