Hallo, Happy-Ween!

Hallo HAPPY WEEN!! oh wait, Happy Halloween! This is a joke in our apartment, its pretty darn fun to say. Sharla wanted to make cupcakes, so she did the hard stuff and I got to do the piping. She decided what shapes I should do, and tada!!

Ashlee and Katherine went out of town for the weekend, so Sharla and I got all dolled up alone. I was Belle (as I've been for the past who-knows-how-many years). Sharla was another Disney character. Can you guess from this view?

Did you get it right? Sharla and her good friend Brian were Ellie and Carl Fredrickson. They were so stinkin' CUTE! Everyone at the dances and parties LOVED them.

On Saturday night I was at a Brick Oven party and having a really lousy time. Everyone kept giving me guff about not having a beast or prince (tell me about it). I was bummed and ready to go. As I was about to leave, the two girls I was talking to started to gape at something behind me.

Then a deep booming voice said,
BELLE!

I turned around to see my GIANT (and rather handsome) friend Robbie dressed as Gaston and striding towards me. He heard about my costume and snuck into Brick to find me. He gave this whole rant about me leaving him at another party and publicly humiliating him. (He did the whole thing with a GIANT smile on his face.) I didn't let him finish. I jumped at him and he enveloped me in a GIANT hug.

Then I remembered my friends and looked over. Everyone in the restaurant was staring at us with their jaws on the ground! Who is the good looking man, and why is he here with Melinda?

Let's just say he escorted (arm in arm) me home and was much more charming than the real Gaston.

We took these photos Sunday night because we forgot before. The next one is my absolute favorite...it took him 5 min to compose himself, and only after I showed him up did Robbie get his act together and pucker.

maybe this is only funny after midnight....you tell me

I found this on another blog I follow. I was cracking up so hard my sides hurt. Maybe it was because I watched it after midnight on a VERY long day. Tell me what you think...
(I don't know how to get rid of all the extra space. I've tried everything I know)

Arm Hair

If you are reading this, you know me. Really well. So you know that either one of my arms have just as much if not more hair than Big Foot's. I deal with it. I've been stupid about it in the past, but now I'm to the point where I just look down and smile.

I smiled REALLY BIG today.

Sharla and I went to the BYU pool this morning before the sun was up. It will be our new thing...hopefully. You have to check in and get a wrist band. So what...

Well, the girl starts to wrap mine around without thinking, and then realizes that my fur is going to get stuck to the sticky part of the wrist band. She lets out an audible groan and gasp. She kinda fidgets with the bracelet a bit, trying to put it on with the least injury to me.

"Its ok, don't worry about it. I'm used to it. Just stick it."

She gave this big sigh of relief and a little smile.

Sharla and my smiles were bigger.

This Week

This week was so full. Lots of school. Lots of school. Lots of school.

Thursday night I knew I was going country swing dancing, but I didn't know who with. Ashlee and Andrew arranged a date for me. I asked and asked but they never told me. I had hoped it would be a certain someone from work, but Ashlee assured me it wasn't anyone from Brick Oven. Well, she lied. He walked in and I squealed. (literally) We had so much fun and I'm official hooked on Country Swing.


On Saturday I was lucky enough to get work off and go to the Homecoming Football game. Mom, Emma, and I went and had a blast! WE WON!! FINALLY!!!

sniffle, sniffle...

I'm not dead, but there were moments when I wished I was.


I've been sick. First a runny nose. Then I lost my voice. And then I started to have little thorns in my throat. Then the aches and fever.

Now, I'm to the point where my body feels great, my nose doesn't give me too many problems, and my voice is back....but when I cough it sounds like there's a baby rattle deep in there. I feel great, but everyone looks at me like I'm dying. As if at any moment they will look up and see my lung plopped in my lap.

Motherhood isn't for wimps

I wrote this essay for my Advanced Writing class. It was supposed to have emotion and be persuasive, but written to the audience of Newsweek (so no LDS perspective). I like it so much I just wanted to share.

I am a driven person. I have goals. I have aspirations. In high school everyone knew I was going places. I attend an elite university. I have an A- grade average. I am tough. I overachieve. I can do hard things. But when I tell someone my deepest desire and goal in life, they scoff at me. Scruntch up their face. Blank stare. Walk away.

Why isn’t my goal good enough? Why do people think I am limiting myself? It is a “real” job. Isn’t it the toughest job on the planet? Motherhood is not for wimps. It is not for the faint at heart. It is not an excuse to escape the corporate world. It is not subjecting oneself to be less of a woman.

Being a mom does not simply mean bearing children, cleaning house, folding clothes, preparing lunches, or chauffeuring kids around town. It is the day in, day out tasks that keep a household running. It is being the optimist, cheerleader, and believer. It is nurturing the body and soul of another human being. Being a mother involves being a teacher, nurse, maid, philosopher, coach, seamstress, chef, organizer, therapist, body guard, and business woman. How many “real” women actually fulfill all those careers in a lifetime?

We need mothers in this world. Women to clean up throw up from the bed, down the hall, and splattered across the bathroom floor. Women to keep a calm face and stand firm as their toddler attempts to push the limits. Women to hold their sons’ hand with a stiff upper lip as a doctor sews his shredded skin together. Women to teach their teenage daughters virtue and grace, and their sons to recognize and acknowledge the value of such a woman.

I am not picking a generic or easy goal. I choose the hard road. I choose to give up sleep and privacy. I choose to bake 6 dozen cookies to help a fundraiser. I choose to struggle and fight until the Eight Times Tables are memorized.

I will be sick and miserable for months, knowing more struggles are soon to follow. I will bring myself to the gates of death, in effort to welcome a life. I will sacrifice my body and mind to take care of another person.

But I also choose to smell the sweet aroma of a clean baby. I choose to pull the sweaty curls away from my sleeping toddler’s face. I choose to have my daughter run to my arms after school. I choose to see my son’s surprised face at perfect birthday cake. I choose to watch my child grow and implement what I’ve taught them. I choose to see my daughter’s eyes glitter and her smile dance as she tells me of her first kiss.

I find beauty in the snot stains on my favorite blouse; joy in the scissor cuts on my grandmother’s quilt; humor in the scattered toys creating a wondrous city; and peace in the tattered bear and much loved blanket.

I see potential. I see an actress, an astronaut, and an accountant. I see their future: bright and free because I created a world for them to dream.

I choose motherhood. Not because it is what my body is built to do, not because it just happens. I choose motherhood because it is hard; because it the road less travel; because it will require every drop of physical, mental, and emotional strength I have; because it is the most honorable and noble title a woman can ever have. Mom.

Acts of Kindness

I love BYU! I was rushing up to campus and was a block away from South Hill. I noticed a car pulling through the stop sign, but it was really slow. Then I realized the driver was outside pushing the car, and trying to steer it at the same time.

Out of nowhere 3 young men come running from 3 different directions. They all get to the car at the same time, and start pushing. The man didn't notice until he let go, and the car kept moving. He was so surprised that people were aware of his plight, let alone willing to help without being asked.

I love that people see a need and just jump, or in this case run.