Love Locks at the Paul Homestead

On Saturday night, we were probably doing one of the coolest things in St. George, and possibly on earth- putting our un-unlockable Love Lock on the Love Lock Gate on Main Street.
We were invited to the inaugural ceremony by our dear friends, Randy and Tammy Paul. We got a lock and put an inscription on it. The inscriptions were supposed to be ones of love. At least, that was my impression. Michael, of course, joked about bringing an unlockable lock in case one of us got a 7-year itch. Or worse. A 7-year Rash. He's a funny guy.
So, I was trying to think of something profound about eternal love when Tammy said, "They Said It Wouldn't Last," as a suggestion for hers and Randy's first Love Lock.
So, that set the tone and Michael and I entertained many possibilities. It was hard to choose an inscription. For an un-unlockable lock, you have to be pretty sure of what you are choosing.

We chose, "The Three Best Friends That Anyone Could Have B.M.W." Ask me if you want to know what that is in reference to. (I just ended that sentence with a dangling participle. Forgive me.)
It was fun, and a really cool idea. It reminded me of the chalk wall on Charlottesville's Downtown Mall, only the messages are permanent. So, that was that.

Rants and Raves...

Usually when I rant, I end up regretting what I have ranted.
@#$& regret and full speed ahead!
I strongly dislike when I end up doing all of the cleaning!
I don't know how it happens, but it does. Often.
I even take the crappy jobs so that the workload is shared.
Still. Nothing.
He never lifts a finger! Not one.
I scrub and wash and fold and today I even tried taking the double-paned windows apart to clean the hard water marks off of them, so I can spy on my obnoxious-dog-owning neighbors.
Did he even offer sage advice? Nope.
I vaccuumed. Again.
I did laundry and dishes.
I cleaned mirrors.
Sigh.
Will any of this change when he learns how to walk?
:)
I love him.

Walker is so cool.

It's true. Every day he does something new. Well, I've been doing some of these things for years, so I suppose I mean they are new to him.
For instance(s):
He wrinkles up his nose and breathes heavily through it. It ends up almost snorty, but without the snort.
He crawls.
He eats baby food.
He tries typing.
I remember when he was just a little lump of a guy. He used to just sit on my shoulder. Well, that makes him sound like he was a pirate parrot. He would rest his head, which he could not hold up himself, on my shoulder.
And right now, he is sleeping. I love it.
I hate the stupid dog who lives next door. It lives with a family. It is barking loudly, and the chickens are clucking loudly. I turned the fan on high to try to "blend" the noises. Now it is a regular morning symphony.
I just checked and Walker is still asleep.
I could shower if I wanted. I think I will take a nap, though.

Bonny and the Terrible 28's

Today has been pretty bad. Has anyone ever heard of, or read, the book "Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day"? That is how I feel.
I woke up so excited to take family pictures tonight, with one of my friends who is a photographer, and is giving me a sweet deal on them. We have a really cute shoot planned. I did my hair and makeup. I even got my bangs trimmed yesterday by the coolest stylist in the west. Her name is Alesha, and she is so great to talk to, that I feel like I need to go in her salon at least once a week just to vent!
Anyway, my poor little Haley is sick today, so we had to postpone pictures. It's fine, because I had about 2 hours of sleep last night, thanks to my stupid idea of making Walker go to bed early. He was shifty all night. Grunting. Growling.
A regular wild.
I tried bringing him into bed with me. For my troubles, I got several not-so-swift kicks to the abdomen, and a sweaty arm. Babies sweat.
So, I had dark circles under my eyes. Pictures weren't the best idea. But I wanted them.
Then, I asked Mike if Ghengis Kahn ate last night when he fed him. Mike said no. It was weird, though. Like when someone is telling you, in a roundabout way that someone has died. He was. Ghengis was doing a wheelie. The problem is this: He isn't dead yet. He is still gulping air ever so slowly. I called to see what could be done, and the kid at the pet store said he is just old, and probably nothing will help.
Meanwhile, I want to stay out of the living room, so I don't see Ghengis in his dyingness, but I can't. I just feel like someone should witness it. I'd want someone to witness my crossing of the bar. I got some french fries on the way home from the office. I then vowed to not eat them until Ghengis dies. Part of it is because it grosses me out to eat and look at him dying.
Work. Work is usually good, but I couldn't shake the feeling of crawly-ness. It's like my spirit won't settle down enough to concentrate on any one thing. I managed to get my work done, and found out that I get to make a two hour trip tomorrow to pick something up from another office. The reason I didn't go today is that I was afraid I would get pulled over, or worse. Because that is how my day is.
I talked to my sister and my dad. That was good.
I ended up eating some fries just now and Ghengis still lives. I'm a terrible friend to fish.
I cried and cried this morning. Then, to my dismay, I realized that this is the first time I have ever bought mascara that isn't waterproof.
My toenail polish is smudged.
I miss my family. But, I am the one who moved away, so I don't think anyone will feel sorry for me. Not that I want pity, but if I did, it would be nice to know I could get some.
I saw Mike's face when I begged him to give Ghengis a blessing. He smiled nicely, but said no. I saw his face when I cried hysterically. It was hysterically.
And you know what? I love animals. Even fish. As I was praying, I asked Heavenly Father to send Ghengis straight to my mum. "She'll know just what to do," I told Him.
And then, I think I understood that I wasn't worried for Ghengis. I was worried for me. I don't magically get mom back when I'm 65, like retirement. It's not a reward that can be given for acheiving a ripe old age. And, I don't want to leave anybody I love who is still here.
I'm a horrible, jealous person. I get so jealous of people with mom's. I'm even jealous of Michael. I know I shouldn't be, but I can't help it. His mom is so great and I'm glad she is still alive.
I get jealous of Utah girls with Utah hair who walk in Walmart with mom's with Utah hair and teen's jeans.
And I think, "This year is too hard." Then, I look at Walker and wonder how I can ever think that. But it's hard.
Why can't I just have both my son and my mother?
My throat feels like there is a lump in it all of the time.
And, I cleaned out Ghengis's tank a few days ago, so it could be my fault he is dying.

Ghengis Kahn

Our first pet is dying.
His name is Ghangis Kahn, and he is a Betta Fish.
He hasn't eaten for days, and the fish man at PetCo said that he is probably just old. He advised me to get some Fresh Water Aquarium Salt, which is like a fish Gatorade. He said it probably won't help. Poor Ghengis needs something.
I am sick to death of death.