Mar, our baker, had agreed to make our reveal party cake so I asked her if she wouldn’t mind wrapping up our “present” for us. Her idea of wrapping was much more exciting than we could have ever hoped for – it was the perfect present.

Cake Pops! There are more pops underneath the bag with a ribbon that say "It's a...!"

It's a BOY!

The kids grabbed the cake pops faster than we could figure out our baby is a boy and we quickly learned it was right under our noses the entire time. Adorable (and really dang delicious)!

To grow my Kevin’s ego to the max, D came across this article written on the real drag queen star, Kevin.   ‘“Big, muscly straight guys” who come with a wife or girlfriend are fair game for being plucked from the audience.’  Good grief.

We have gotten away from the weeds a few times in the last few weeks and each outing has brought me back to memories in college and high school and even grade school.   Please join me for a little stroll through memory lane.

New Kids on the Block.  Oh yes.  I went to their show (again), this time headlining with the BackStreet Boys.  I didn’t want to go.  Once of NKOTB was enough for me.  But growing up, my sister was obsessed with the boy band.  So obsessed, she put a giant poster size puzzle together and glued it and put it on her wall.  It’s still in the basement of our childhood home and haunts, er, greets Kevin and I every time we go home for a visit.  I will admit, I loved belting out BSB “I Want It That Way” with thousands of other adult women, just like I do on long drives with Mar and KMJ.  And the most hilariously awesome part is how much they play up the sex-appeal.  I was embarrassed FOR them with all the hip thrusting and self touching going on.  Not attractive (although thousands of other screeching adult women would surely disagree).  Anyway, the good news about this concert viewing was it got my sister and her family to Seattle – which doesn’t happen often enough.

Soundgarden.  We just got back from the Gorge late last night where Chris Cornell sang his face off.  According to Kevin, his voice was meant to be heard at the Gorge just as Eddie Vedder’s was meant to be heard at Benaroya (that was also an awesome show, by the way).  It took me back to highschool where a lot of my friends were “grunge” and wore flannel on 90 degree sweaty hot days, wore holy jeans and wrote nonsense all over their jansports with a sharpie.  I was only sort of grunge.  My Mom wouldn’t let me put holes in my jeans or write on my jansport or smoke pot or sneak booze into class AND DRINK IT.  I did listen to ”grunge” music though.  It was an awesome combination of Soundgarden, Pearl Jam, STP, Nitty Gritty Dirt Band and the Aladdin soundtrack in my five-disc CD player.  I was so cool.

And then in college, I actually remember Spoonman playing in Red Square on my long walks to Balmer.  I picture him everytime I hear that song.

Sonics Night at the Mariners.  We really could have cared less about the game.  The draw were the Sonic legends.  The Sonics that don’t exist anymore because Howard Schultz sucks (but his bagels are awesome!).  The championship that now belongs to OKC Thunder because Clay Bennett is a liar.  It wasn’t until this night that I realized how much I miss the Sonics.  Working there was definitely the coolest job I’ve ever had.  How many people can say they did on-court promotions during half-time, ran in circles with giant flags that spell “S”, “O”, “N”, “I”, “C”, “S” in the 4th quarter of a tight game to get the crowd pumped, told Charles Barkley he should lay off our donuts since he had a game in an hour, watched the end of games from the cat-walk to drop T-shirt parachutes on unsuspecting but grateful fans, collect sweaty seat covers after the games and watch the same fans come game after game to cheer on their beloved team?  Not many.  I am lucky.

Seeing the Sonics greats reminded me of the good friendships I developed from working game nights and their influence of a basketball stadium tour that is halfway complete.  And it reminded me of  how much I loved basketball.  I was never really good.  But I loved to play with my Dad on summer nights.  I was so much in love with basketball, in junior high, I would set up a TV outside with full on extension cords and a TV sun block, so I could watch NBA Inside Stuff and the games to follow while doing homework outside in the sun.  Those were the days of the Dream Team, Clyde the Glide, the Mailman, John Stockton in his short shorts, David Robinson and Muggsy Bogues, Grandmama (LG) and Shawn Kemp.  Basketball just isn’t the same anymore.  And it’s even less the same without the Seattle SuperSonics.

Our recent trip to Paris (please refer to previous posts) was also a walk back.  My sophomore year in college, Gramma, Krista and I went to Paris for a week with my mentor Mary Ann Sanger and a group of students from SFCC.  One of the students in the group was Marisa.  I had known Marisa because we were both awarded the same scholarship our freshman year.  But we were acquaintances.  Because of this trip, we became friends and have since been all over the world together.  Paris reminds me of some of my favorite people and my first trip to Europe….where it all began.  I credit Gramma and Mary Ann for instilling the travel bug in me.  For that I am forever grateful.

July was full of weeds.  But better, lots of good memories, new and old.

On our honeymoon, while laying at the Tavarua poolside we decided it would be a really great idea to take one last hurrah of a trip, while it’s still just the two of us, in the interim of an old job to new. (He had planned to start looking upon our return.) Neither one of us thought he would find something so exciting so quickly, but he did. So, we’re going to Paris! Everyone keeps asking why Paris? We don’t really have a good answer, except why not Paris?

Love, me and Mr. T

I didn’t know what it was going to be like being “the bride.”  I really didn’t have any expectations.  What continues to overwhelm me is the genuine love and support from my friends.  My friends have made me feel so special.  So special that a “thank you” doesn’t seem to be enough to show my gratitude.  I’ve spent a lot of time trying to figure out if this is just what happens when you get married.  You get showered and you feel awesome and that’s normal?  While I don’t technically know, I kind of feel like it’s not.  The motions are all very similar.  Showers and parties and games and presents.  But what’s different to me, it feels like it’s more meaningful than just the motions.  There’s so much emotion involved.  It has made being “the bride” very surreal.

It’s not often you take the time to reflect and think about the people in your life and what they really mean to you.  I’ve been doing that – and I like it.  I like that people are genuinely excited for me and Kevin.  And have shown us that in many different forms.  It is an exciting time for us.  And we can’t wait to celebrate with our closest friends and family.  But I think what’s even more exciting is confidently knowing how many people love us, support us and want to be a part of us.  It minimizes so much and makes everything past, present and future, less scary.

Thank you, friends.  I love you!

Megs, Ree and Nins - the hostess(es) with the mostess!

Crazy gamers!

Who knows me?! Straight to my heart...and hips.

I’ve always struggled on the gift giving front for poor Tyler.  I’m just not a good “boy” shopper.  I could get Alli dolls or stuffies or clothes or games – and she would love whatever it was.  Tyler would too, heck he doesn’t even know better yet – but nothing ever seems cool enough.  How many Tonka Trucks does a kid need?  At least Barbie comes in different clothes.

Plus, as they should be, my niece and nephew are spoiled rotton.  They have every toy and game known to man, making my dilemma even harder.  What do you get a two-year old boy who has everything?

Money.  The kid loves money.  While Daddy spent 30 minutes opening up one of the fancy new toys, Tyler entertained himself putting a bag full of money in his new piggy bank.  When he ran out of money – he panhandled.

And it worked.  Success?

He usually manages to surprise me with a romantic overnight date.  This year, our weekends were already pretty full with fun stuff so we had mutually decided to take Monday off to spend the day together; maybe go snow shoeing or something active.

Well, he tricked me again.  Instead of snow shoeing on Monday, his real plan was to take me to Alderbrook Resort Sunday.  He had arranged for us to snow shoe still, then wine and dine and then get massages on Monday.  Oh, go ahead,”aww.”  I know, right?  Isn’t he the sweetest?

Well, our romantic getaway turned into a very long Sunday drive.  You may remember the last post about all the rain at the luminaria?  Well all that rain turned into a mudslide, closing part of Highway 3.  But(!) never fear, there is another way to get to Alderbrook – it would just take a lot longer – but we weren’t in a hurry.  So, we decided to go up and around Hood Canal, driving back down Highway 101.  We were in the car about four hours now and made it to the final stretch when sadly, the only other road to Alderbrook was closed due to floods.  We literally couldn’t get there.

By now it was dinner time and all we had to eat all day were cookies from the night before.  We couldn’t quickly get back to the ferry so continued to drive south to Olympia and then back home, making a giant circle.  Our romantic evening away turned into a six hour Sunday drive, McDonald’s for dinner and a chick flick.

So, the day….well, it was a total waste – but at least it was memorable!