Big News

Why?

Because we heard they got an In-N-Out Burger.

Because Maddie's hair is getting too big for San Antonio.

Because we want to be closer to our family and friends.

Because Derek is starting a new job that we are very excited about.

All of the above. 
More to follow.
God is good.

My Mom

This picture was taken as we decorated our Christmas tree my senior year of high school. We had tiny light bulbs, and nostrils, so obviously...

That same year, my parents and I sat down and looked through all the books I wrote in kindergarten. My brothers and I had an awesome kindergarten teacher who had us write and illustrate little bound books with the help of some parent volunteers. We wrote at least one book per month and titles included hits such as One Hundred Years From Now, and If I Had a Dinosaur.

But we had the best time re-reading I Love My Mom Because. I'm sure I wrote some nice things, but it was all undone on the last page where I wrote, "I love my mom because she helps me pack."

I was five. I don't know what I was thinking. Packing does stink, but I probably could have come up with a more meaningful conclusion.

But I didn’t. I loved my mom because she took my stuff, wrapped it up in newspaper, put it in boxes, labeled and taped those boxes, and moved them to a new location.

Maybe I was just being really honest. When I was five I loved my mom for practical, even selfish reasons. Like that she fed me, took care of me when I got sick, and did my laundry.

And then I got a little older and realized that the person who was wiping my nose was actually an extraordinary woman.

She is clever, kind and good at everything. She is gorgeous, like Jackie O flawlessly gorgeous. She has a wonderful sense of humor and brightens up any room.

Thanks, Mom. For helping me pack. For raising me right. For being you.

The Sillies

Sometimes I get a little something called the sillies. Sometimes I get them after eating too much sugar. Sometimes I get them after staying up too late. Always I get them after eating too much sugar and staying up too late.

And occasionally I get the sillies at a time when it is very inappropriate to do so.

Sunday was confirmation day for dozens of young teenagers at our church. The beautiful service was nearing an end when suddenly, a baby began to squeal. But this wasn’t just any sort of squeal, it was the weirdest sound I have ever heard.

I can’t stress this enough. THE WEIRDEST SOUND EVER.

I turned to Derek and whispered…

“Is that a baby?”

“Yes, it’s a baby…raptor.”

Maybe it wasn’t that funny of a joke. Writing it out now, I can see that it’s objectively not that funny. But it just got me and I was overcome with giggles. Shoulders heaving, tears streaming down my face, I’m going to die from laughing giggles. I’d start to get it together and then the baby would screech again and I’d picture a little velociraptor in a seersucker suit squirming in a pew and I’d just fall to pieces.

Derek stayed strong for a while; because it isn’t cool to crack up like that over your own joke.  But there was something about how much I was laughing and how undignified it was given the occasion, that when I finally looked him in the eye, he lost it too. They say it’s contagious.

We continued to try to muffle our giggles, said nothing to each other, and hauled it out of church so that we could finally burst into the full on belly laughs we had been suppressing for the past twenty minutes.

There are probably lots of people you could marry, but I highly recommend marrying the person you laugh the most with. Even if it means some people will look at you like you are absolutely bonkers.