Andy May or May Not Get Some

"Got a chocolate craving, huh?" asked the Walgreens cashier.

Should he just assume those two huge bags of peanut M&Ms are for me? Yes, I am eight and a half months pregnant. And yes, they were the only items in my shopping cart. But c'mon, two and two do not always equal four. Got it, Mr. Cashier Buddy?

In my defense, they were 50% off, okay?

No Sacrilege Intended

I told Andy I was going to blog about this and he said, "Spare the world."

Remember buying new school clothes as a teenager and not being able to wear them until school actually started but secretly going into your room to try them on again and again and again to admire yourself in the mirror?

These stockings are my new school clothes.

I would elaborate, but then I'd be doing exactly what Andy wanted me NOT to do so I'll leave it at that. Except to explain that the below photo is Norah and me at 33 weeks. And to say that Norah is totally going to love her new stocking.

I Totally Miss This Place

If you're dying to rent the cutest house on the bench in Boise let me know. I can hook you up.

Here ya go, Lexi, Cali, & Molly.

So I only post when I have a funny story to tell, hence I only blog once a month or so. However, I've had naggy family members nag and nag, hence the boring blog and unattractive photo.


Norah and me at 30 Weeks.

Dress up: This Time It's for Real!

She says with concern in her voice, "I'm worried about our baby being cute."

“I thought all babies are naturally cute”

“But dressed cute and stuff.”

Hilary had her little party in which her friends showered her with cute shoes; cute sweaters; cute blankets; pretty bows; adorable safety equipment; lovable booklets; frilly flower bands; snuggly sockies; comfy pink furry pajamas; and boss-cute bumbos, boppies, basinets and bouncers.

I thought that dressing up baby dolls was just make-believe fun for little girls. Like killing bad guys all day was for me when I was a boy.

No, having a baby is exactly the same as playing with dress up dolls. *This time it’s for real.*

Respect.

I love autumn. The season of sweaters and no coat; tee shirts with a jacket; sixty degree days, little rain; pumpkins, leaves and Thanksgiving. During these couple months out of the year, Mother Earth and I have a special understanding. She and I are on totally different wave lengths from December to August, but come September, she really gets me, you know?

However, I've inherited a disease (undoubtedly from my father). As soon as the air gets slightly brisk nudging me towards my cocoa stash in the evenings I am severely tempted to listen to Christmas music--be it December or September. I just wanna turn the lights down low and snuggle up to a book and Kenny G. Andy knows that autumn is my favorite time of year but insists that listening to Josh Grobin's Noel album in October is "like punching fall in the face."

Am I disrespecting Mama Earth at a time when she does so much to make me happy?

Booya, 2nd Ward!

Hilary and Andy sittin' in a tree, W-I-N-N-I-N-G.
First comes love, then comes cohabitation, then comes ward activity game show domina(bi)tation.

If anyone can answer correctly more than 10 of these questions about their spouse then feel free to share the dinner gift card we won at the ward Newlywed Game activity last night.

1. If your wife could have one thing, what would it be?
a. spend more time with kids
b. spend more time with you
c. be more romantic
d. help more around the house
2. If you could describe your husband as a fruit, which fruit would he be?
3. If you could name the greatest fault of your husband, what would it be?
4. In the morning, would your husband describe you as a
a. grizzly bear
b. polar bear
c. teddy bear
5. What bothers you more about your husband?
a. he leaves the toilet seat up
b. he leaves his clothes on the floor
c. he leaves his wet towels on the floor
d. he leaves cap off the toothpaste
6. What would you want your husband to buy for you?
a. something romantic
b. jewelry
c. something for the house
7. What's your husband's dream car?
8. Husbands, what's your wife's shoe size?
9. If your husband could get tickets to any concert, who would it be?
10. Husbands, name one thing your wife can't pass up when on it's sale.
11. What made you fall in love with your husband?
12. We can't remember the twelfth, but we got it right.

Andy and I are so close, it's like we share one brain between us!
See y'all at Applebee's!

Andy + Hilary = . . . Please, not this!

(courtesy of morphthing.com)

AAAGGGHHH!!! I used to be excited to have a girl until I experimented on this website. I think instead of Norah we're gonna have to call her Nevaeh (Heaven spelled backward) because she's going to be so celestially beautiful--obviously.

Food vs. Peeing

After reading my sister's blog it got me thinking. If I want food in heaven, does that mean I have to pee in heaven too? 'Cause I really hope there is no peeing in heaven.

I'm pregnant. Yes, I'm pregnant--19 weeks along now, And I've acquired a new aversion for the toilet (as opposed to food) in the past two months. Actually, it's more like a love/hate relationship. I love that I don't have to wear a diaper or use an outhouse, but I hate that I go to the bathroom 10-15 times a day.

One thing is for sure--I strongly urge anyone reading this to never swim in the same pool as me after I've finished swimming my laps. You might want to wait a week or so until they've re-chlorinated the water.

P.S. Cloth vs. Disposable diapers?

P.P.S. Not for me. For the baby.

I am so in love with Andy.

(Caution: This blog post has severe stereotyping weaved entirely throughout. Read at your own risk.)

If you don't recognize these two delightful women, you obviously need to get out more. Maybe you could start by attending one of the many events held during Boise's Gay Pride Week. Look for a short, heavyset woman with spikey, bleach-tipped hair who is plugged into her ipod. Tap her on the shoulder and ask her to whom she is listening. Chances are she's listening to Amy and Emily--two folky singer/songwriter lesbians more commonly referred to as the Indigo Girls.

My sister, Lyric, is a major fan of the Indigo Girls which, I believe, stems from her BYU days during the late 1900's. Anyone who ever lived in Provo at that time seems to love these guys and Erasure. Not sure what that means, but I'm kinda glad I chose the Hawaii campus. Anywayz, back to my story. Lyric called a couple months ago desperately trying to find someone to go this concert with her. I asked my hubby if it was okay. He said I could only go if I spiked my hair and wore denim shorts with a neon colored tank top. So it was on! I was going!

If you know any Smiths, you know that we (especially Lyric) are never early for anything. So in accordance with our family values, we arrived after everyone else had found their own perfect little patch of grass. We decided to chance it up front and found a lovely spot two feet from the stage--ideal spot for dancers to block our view, which never crossed our minds until all the dancers blocked our view.

If you can't beat 'em, join 'em, right? However, blog readers, you would all do well to remember: concert or no concert, when surrounded by lesbians dancing, caressing, and kissing each other never lower your guard.

The two women sitting next to us were the initiators of the dancing. If you've ever been to an outdoor concert you know the dance-initiator type--brave, unashamed, and most assuredly drunk. These switch-hitters were doing things I've never seen two women do before and which gave me nightmares for four nights. I swear these players were rounding second base and heading towards third (if ya know what I mean). Eventually more people joined in dancing, including unassuming, guard-lowered Lyric and me.

It took only a couple more beers for one of the two said women to try groping or kissing anyone within reach. Lyric was within reach. She pulled Lyric's head closer to her own in hopes of reaching first base. As frightened as she was, Lyric successfully blocked the advance (probably scarred for life) while I lunged at the boozer ready to knock her on her booty. The woman saw my defensiveness and assumed Lyric and I were "together" and looked scared for a minute. Rightfully so. I was like a mother bear protecting her older sister. Plus I was at least a foot taller and probably had 50 lbs on her.

Needless to say, the concert was a huge success impressing upon our minds fond memories and an even greater love for our husbands. Before I left for the concert Andy gave me a big, loooong kiss followed with, "This is just so you remember what it's like to love a man. Don't go changin' on me tonight."

Andy, I echo Amy's words to Emily. "I'm gonna love you good and strong while our love is good and young."

Greetings from Idaho

Since I haven't blooged for a bit,here's some pictures. If you can't see the whole picture, you should be able to click on it and it will take you to my wacky intertainin photobucket site with pictures of lilacs and Hilary in the living room saying, don't take any pointless pictures of me, and stuff.

Here's one of a korean spice bush that'll knock your socks off. it's kinda blurry, but that's to simulate the intoxicating fragrance. I'm creative with my photography like that. This is our front door in moscow, which we left in late May.



We also left the Hinchey-Wincheys. Trust me, they are as crazy as they look. Notice in the background, you can see the internet on the internet. That's what in grad school we used to call metacognitive displasia.



Then we cruised down south and Kyle took us disc golfing in Upper Ross Park, where kyle has to fight the men off when he wears them sleek jeans like that and moves so gracefully. Atta boy! Whatta stroke!



Carter got game



Hil and mom got game in the gourmet! Don't forget that extra scoop of mayo! (that's her secret ingredient in a lot of stuff. shhh don't tell.)



Then we went back West beyond the City of Idaho on the Crooked River, untouched by hydro power, resortification, or orthodontia.





Idaho City's got class. And you can tip your waitress in gold dust!



After a long day of all that, Jorgensens know how to relax. Even if he don't have the pure blue blood pumping in his arteries.Cole is good enough at sitting on a couch to be an official Jorgensen,

Notice the guy in the middle's lovely gut. Oughta start wearing vertical stripes. The Yeti boy also needs to start shaving his arms.