I'm down to being a copy cat

I have found myself complaining a lot lately. Facepalm. I too have found myself dry of ideas to blog, so I am copying Lacy, and making a list of things that make me happy. 

Lets start with the most obvious. These faces make me enormously happy. 

Being a mom is hard in a way that is impossible to explain. It is hard in a way that sometimes makes you want to pull your hair out, but at the same time if someone asked you if you wanted to quit, you would slap them and say, "Don't even kid around about that"...and then soft slap them again so they know you are serious. 

But your baby can be causing you all sorts of grief, and then they smile at you like you are the neatest and most important thing in their world, and its fine again.I don't want people to think I don't love being a mom. I LOVE it. I would recommend it if you want to know what the best kind of happiness is. 

Being a wife, well, Chesley makes that easy. I am so grateful for him. He could complain about me so much. He doesn't. When I am down, he just places cookies or other offerings in front of me, and lets me recover in my own time. 

Reading has been making me happy lately. We have a phenomenal library in this little town. As a teacher, I didn't have a lot of time for my own reading.

This is my current read. I am kind of in love with it. There is something about life in the twenties that fascinates me. I could read books based in that era over and over. I really enjoy Hemingway as an author (English nerdiness), and I am learning to enjoy him as a character as well. 

I stole this picture and this recipe from pinterest.

They made me really happy. Treats usually do. Seriously, if someday you see me on the Biggest Loser weeping into the camera about how I don't know how it got that far, remind me that I do. I know. Also, I am shameless about loving that show to pieces. 

A....New Year's Letter...?

Hyello all! (pronounced hyellow…like the color)

This is me typing with a Minnesota accent. I am hoping it is as close as I come to acquiring one.  I would say Merry Christmas! Or Happy New Year!....but I am embarrassingly late for that. So….Happy (insert day of the week)!!

2012 was a DOOZY! Am I right? It brought so many changes to us that we occasionally still look at each other to verify that we’ve remained in reality, and didn’t accidentally step into someone else’s life.

Ches spent the first half of the year working for a company called National DME. They were the middle man between worker’s compensation, and companies who sold durable medical equipment. He had a 60-75 minute commute one way. He was tired of driving, I was tired of seeing so little of him (time and size wise. I didn’t even have time to FEED the poor fellow), and we were both tired of the gas expense. So, the obvious solution to the above problems was for him to get a job for a helicopter company based out of Minnesota. It started as a seasonal summer job, but they asked him to stay. Hence, our cheesy salutation. He is beyond thrilled to be surrounded by helicopters every day. This was the opportunity we have been praying for, and we are incredibly grateful.

I started off the year with my first legitimate teaching job, and the relief of finally being able to tell people I was expecting. We had kept the secret for a LOOOOONG time, and I am positively horrid at secrets.  Plus, I was ready to have an excuse for gaining weight other than cookies.

Teaching was both a rewarding and difficult adventure. There were just less than a handful of times I had to walk suddenly from the room to make sure I didn’t scar any students for life at seeing their teacher spew breakfast. We had some facepalm kind of moment when my students didn’t know things like the fact that WWII was within the lifetime of people who are still living. We were talked about it on veteran’s day, and one girl was astonished that anyone could be that old. “I mean, didn’t that happen in like the 1800’s or something?!” I think I failed at keeping my composure that time. Oops.

I may or may not have told students they would be flogged, but my fire was quickly dampened when they had no idea what that meant. In the end, I felt like I taught them things they would need to know, and I built some great relationships. I miss teaching, but would not trade it for staying home with our little man.

Maverik is a ham. He very early earned the nick name of  “The Gremlin” due to the fact that his breathing is often noisy because of drainage in his little system (Gross. Sorry. I didn’t want to use the words “snot” or “mucus”). Don’t call your child that in public. Strangers will give them pitiful looks as if they are being abused. He is six months old now(I mean nine whaaaat?), and an absolute joy to everyone who gets to spend time with him. He smiles often, has some killer dimples, and inherited being slap happy when extremely tired from his mother. 

I ran out of space! Well, we love you all, and already miss being closer. If you didn’t read the entire letter, that is completely acceptable. We will probably cherish you forever anyway.

                                                                                    Chesley, Karlie, and Maverik D. Lewis

I will never be able to express this very eloquently

In the last year or so I have seen an over abundance of articles and videos talking about the controversy surrounding homosexuality in today's society.

I am not sure why, but today I haven't been able to shake the feeling that I need to get my opinion out there. This is the only place that I know how to do that. 

Do I believe that homosexuality is against the laws of God. Yes, I do.

And that is where my negativity toward it stops. It seems our society is split down the middle dividing the people who think it is wrong, and people who are fighting for it to be accepted. That is to be expected. At this point, it is unlikely that either side will ever completely convince the other.

What saddens me is all of the hate. I have gay friends that I absolutely adore, and love to be around. They do not make me uncomfortable in any way. 

If I had a voice that anyone cared to hear(I will pretend that I am Jennifer Lawrence for a minute because everyone seems to be listening to her), I would say this:

"You have the opinion being gay is right, or you have the opinion being gay is wrong. That is that. What you need to remember when you are interacting with the person of the opposite opinion is everything else about them! Sexuality is not the sum definition of a human being. We are complex and layered and marvelous." 

You find out someone you love is Gay. If you believe it is wrong, it can be an unimaginably difficult thing to cope with. But, you need to remember how their favorite book is Moby Dick, they can win a cheese tasting contest with their eyes closed, they give the best hugs on the planet, and that one time they watched a movie with you that they hate because you had a rough day, and you got to pick.  I would bet that none of that was driven by their sexuality. It was driven by their heart, their sense of humor, or their passion.

Before you knew they were gay you most likely didn't take their intimate life as a prompt of how to treat or interact with them. If you have questions about it, and you are close to them, figure out a way to talk about it on neutral ground, but understand that if you want them to listen to your concerns, you have to listen to them as well. If you are not close to them, focus on all of the other things about them that you can connect with, and don't make sexuality a point for discomfort, hate, or contention.

This Mormon white girl is pleading, don't be hatin'

Bedtime Conversations: Five minutes ago, Rootbeer float night, potty talk

*If you don't like potty talk, I recommend scrolling down to a different post.

Ches: I have to go to the bathroom

Me: Do you care if I come in to brush my teeth?

Ches: I don't think you'll want to.

Me: Oh THAT kind of bathroom visit.

Ches: It was the icecream.

Me: If it does that to you, why do you eat it?

Ches: That is like asking me why I breath.

.....touché

I am not sure how we are in love: Part 1

You guys. I kind of get anxiety whenever people ask me about how husband and I met, or how we fell for each other. I need an audible way to insert an asterisk and a disclaimer before telling the series of events, letting them know that normal human relationships don't progress how ours seemed to. 

Our story makes no sense.

And in lieu of Valentines day, I will try to lay it out there as clearly as I am able, and you can help me try to figure out how we actually got married. Please don't get me wrong. I AM MARRIED TO A MARVELOUS MAN, AND I HAVE ZERO FEELINGS OF REGRETFULNESS. I mean, have you seen our baby? Who can regret the recipe that made that.(too much?)

First Encounter: It was early in September of 2008. School had just begun. I was returning for my second year of residence in Old Farm. Chesley was living there for the first time, just about to begin his helicopter flight training. Our singles ward Family Home Evening was taking place at one of our church leader's homes, so everyone was making their way there. I was already close friends with a couple of Chesley's room mates, so we ended up riding in the back of the same truck. I tried to talk to him. He didn't respond. I thought he was cute enough, but stuck on himself. I had written off attractive men because they never seemed to pay attention to me. He validated this on our first meeting. He claims that all he could see was my insane room mate acting like a lunatic, and doesn't remember me being there at all.  (I don't even get a first impression? SO lame.)

Second Encounter: Sometime early in December, before finals and the desertion of campus, I was in my apartment just chatting it up with Mark Sam and Jenelyn (my two best friends from College who had the audacity to marry each other).  Chesley walked through the door, told me he had heard I gave good back rubs, and asked me if I would give him one. I still can't figure out why I did it. I rubbed the backs of a large handful of strange boys that year. Weird. 

Third Encounter: A few weeks later, campus had been forsaken by gleeful students who pranced to their various homes with the speed that only post-final elation plus Christmas joy can produce. I had to work, and Ches was not on a normal School schedule. We were two of the only people left in our apartment complex. He showed up at my apartment and asked if I wanted to play racquetball with him the next day. Neither of us had anything better to do, so I agreed to come to his apartment when I was off work, and we would go. The next afternoon was cold and gloomy. I could not muster the desire to walk back up the hill to the courts, so I just didn't walk the 20 steps to his apartment. We had an awkward encounter in the laundry room later when he asked why I hadn't showed. 

Sidenote: The boy who had broken up with me earlier that year was in the room at the same time. I was mostly over him. As he put clothes from the washer to the dryer he told me that my excuse was really lame. I died a little inside.

Fourth Encounter: We played racquetball a day later. I didn't consider it a date, but apparently he did. (He will tell anyone who will listen that I stood him up for our first date. Falsehood. It wasn't a date. He had a girlfriend,(of which I was unaware) and only a weenie would have the girl show up at his house for the first date.) I was surprised that we talked really easily, and I quite enjoyed myself. I have always been the queen of awkward when meeting new people, but I was completely natural. I have since attributed that to the fact that I didn't care about what he thought of me at all, so I didn't clam up. I just said what I thought.