Pamper Day

For me, “Pamper Day” is today.
No, not Pamper’s day, mothers… I knew that’s what you were thinking, wasn’t it?
For Christmas, my sweet Biceps has decided to spoil my mother-in-law and I.

See this lady? She’s my mother-in-law and she’s awesome. She also has a slight addiction, but we’ve already covered that, haven’t we.

 

Biceps chose to bless the two of us with a movie at home garnished by all of these treats you see before you. He knows me so well. The treats include: Burt’s Bees cuticle cream and foot balm, champagne, Godiva chocolate, trail mix, and Snyder’s pretzels.
Then to top it off, our day will end with us both getting a relaxing massage at Aveda.
My man. My Biceps.
He is the best. (said in a Nacho Libre voice)

Snuggle-fest 2011

It’s getting colder and with each new passing day, the gray afternoons bleed into the dark night.
The alarm is waking me up too early-and I fight against it. After all, it’s still dark outside. The frigid wind squelches my desire to run outside-so-the treadmill gets some action once more.

Yoga pants are my outfit of choice, unless I’m forced to leave the house on some important errand which would require a jean ensemble. Then and only then, does make-up ever touch my face.

 

As I’m walking out of the door to retrieve much needed groceries with a Starbucks coffee mug in hand-of course, filled to the brim with Starbuck’s coffee-this is what I almost cannot bear to leave behind.

 

They make me second guess if we really couldn’t survive one more day on kidney beans and cream of wheat. I could turn around right now, throw the yoga pants back on and tell myself it was a valiant effort.

 

After all, these kittens are in their formative months. They need me. I shouldn’t abandon them while they are so young-even if it’s only for a few hours.

 

They need a lap to sit on, someone to pet them, to whisper to them how cute they are, to snuggle up to them…

 

…to share the warm covers with.
Stay strong, Rebekah. Your family needs groceries. Cream of wheat should not be eaten three times a day. And the beans, well, Biceps could use a break from the beans.
List in hand, keys in the door, I force myself to leave them behind. It’s hard to do.

On Fire, Mr. Fireman

Dear Readers:
Everything in our life has changed and I have been allowing bits and pieces of our changing lives as we transition from Touring the country with musician types to staying at home with normal types..
Well, scratch that. No one we hang out with is quite normal. Except you, Mom. You are soooo normal. (And I learned all my “normalness” from you.)
But, here we are with our lives changing overnight as Biceps pursues a career in fire fighting. Don’t worry, he’s not throwing in the towel on writing music and what-not. He just found a career that suited his fancy and still allows time for music.
And I thought you should have an up close and personal look at my man. In his fire fighting outfit.

 

Because he’s hot.
Every pun intended.

Mothers and Angry Birds

Following our Thanksgiving visit, my Mother-in-Law camped out in our van in her driveway in Minneapolis. She refused to leave the van as we said our good-bye’s. She had even packed a bag-several bags in fact, and she had her pillow, house shoes, bags of presents, bags of food and her new phone. We told her that we commended her on her preparedness, and understood it was hard to say good-bye to us-since we are so dang fun. But we reminded her that all good things must come to and end.
She said she wasn’t going anywhere and she sure as heck wasn’t about to say good-bye.
She was coming with us.

So, I did what any good daughter-in-law would do. I challenged her to a game of Sequence. Of course, I lost. I think she had the game rigged somehow.

 

She had some sort of motivation for coming with us. Apparently, there was a new baby about to be born in our family. But then, you probably already heard about that.
Off we drove into the sunset, eating dried apricots, playing Angry Birds (as shown here), speaking of things yet to come, enjoying the road…

 

…until this happened. We were 45 minutes from home when a real life Angry Bird went all kamikaze on our windshield. What did Mr. Bird have against our van?
Was it the fact that my mother-in-law so carelessly tossed around his friends during her enjoyment of said game?
Or was it mere coincidence?
Or is it some sort of Angry Bird conspiracy to redefine just how hard a bird can shatter glass since all that I consider them to be are cute and fluffy creatures?
Or was it everything combined?

My mother-in-law said that I was crazy and went back to her game.