Lost

Over the course of the last five weeks, I have lost the following from my life:

11 pounds

10 inches

My fear of Workout Barbie at the gym

My inability to conquer bad habits

My ability to be my own worst enemy


Thank you for being my cheerleaders, my encouragers, my voice of reason and tough love. You are so fantastic. This is 32 years in the making and I couldn't have done it without you.

Now, I am off to the gym. There's no going back for this girl.

Vegas, Baby

Today's the day!

I am currently sitting at Gate C42 waiting for my flight to Vegas. Lizz and Brian just boarded their plane, which luckily for them, is a direct flight. Mine, on the other hand, has a layover in Salt Lake City where I am going to try to avoid becoming a sister wife.

Ah, the price we pay for a cheap ticket.

Last night, I packed four pairs of high heels, six sets of false eyelashes and a really great pair of Spanx. I think that's about all I need for this trip, don't you think? Actually, I know I overpacked because I am pretty sure I have four wardrobe changes for each day. But with the temperature being over 100, I may be glad I packed so much.

Two of my favorite new purchases are currently on my person. Exhibit A and B:






These shoes are fabulous and super comfortable. And I am all about the bling these days. Also, I am loving the red jeans. I found them at TJMaxx, which could be my favorite store ever, ever. They are not the super popular red skinny jeans that all the celebs wear. I can't wear skinny jeans because they make me look like a snow cone. Instead, they are wide leg and slouchy. Perfect in every way.

SIDE NOTE: I am sorry if you don't like pictures of feet. Mine are clean and relatively un-gnarly.

I also bought a pair of gold sparkle peep toe heels. Oh yes I did. And they are coming out for the bachelorette party tomorrow night. I know you are just as excited about them as I am.

My friend Tara gave me a photo scavenger hunt assignment for the next four days. Elvis is involved and a few other Vegas staples. If you want to add to the list, feel free! Between MOH duties and trying not to sweat my eyelashes off, I am sure I'll have plenty of time to accomplish each one. But please, keep it PG.

Or maybe even G, for Vegas standards.

Okay, that's it. It's time to board. Me and my fedora are needing a quick snooze before we hit the ground running.

My Picture with the Mayor

He practically runs this town.

A Place of Abundance

"For you, God, tested us; you refined us like silver.
You brought us into prison and laid burdens on our backs.


You let people ride over our heads; we went through fire and water,
but you brought us to a place of abundance." - Psalm 66:10-12 

A place of abundance.

I cannot wait.

I Have Some Thoughts This Morning

As you may have noticed, my blogging has been a bit slow lately. It's because all I do is work and work out with occaisional fun things in between. I am not complaining, I do love a good routine, but unless I completely wipe out on the treadmill (almost happened) or paint a new work of art (I think my artistic talent has dried up), my thoughts are all I have to give.

So, here they are, all five of them. I would love to know your thoughts as well. Consider this a thoughts-swapping party.

1. I LOVE Phillip Phillips. I have loved him from the beginning, partially because he sounds like Dave Matthews, and partially because he is so humble and gracious. And I am always a sucker for a southern accent. I cried when he won and walked off the stage to hug his family last night. Seriously, I cried. And I will totally buy his album.

2. T-minus 8 days until Lizz's wedding! Holy Moses. How did it get here so quickly?! And I am happy to report that the dress... fits! Wahoooooooooooo! I consider this a major victory in my life, especially since I ate pans (as in, plural) of brownies over the winter months. I will give you more details about this later, but for now, just know that I won't have to wear a bedazzled mumu for the wedding.

3. I want to learn how to fly fish.

4. This is my view of out my window:

These mammoth beasts have been moving dirt for a week now and I am pretty sure my beautiful view is going to be obliterated by a building, which is rumored to be a mental health facility. I am sure there is some irony in there somewhere.

5. I found another t-shirt that I think I need:

It's the boots that make it, don't you think?

Moody Pants

People, sometimes I get a little moody. Oh, it's true. I could blame it on boys or hormones or lack of chocolate, but moodiness has a way of taking over and camping out in my brain, heart and spirit. It becomes my filter for how I see the world and usually that world looks blue and funky.

And the worst part is that I know I am moody and yet I still let it sink in and rule like some ugly dictator.

On Sunday night, after I had crawled into bed, I read this little nugget:

There are certain things in life that we need not pray about— moods, for instance. We will never get rid of moodiness by praying, but we will by kicking it out of our lives. Moods nearly always are rooted in some physical circumstance, not in our true inner self. It is a continual struggle not to listen to the moods which arise as a result of our physical condition, but we must never submit to them for a second. We have to pick ourselves up by the back of the neck and shake ourselves; then we will find that we can do what we believed we were unable to do. The problem that most of us are cursed with is simply that we won’t. The Christian life is one of spiritual courage and determination lived out in our flesh.                                         ~Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest, May 20

I love this refreshing truth.

Apparently I need to be a little bit tougher. 

Apparently I need to be a bit more courageous and determined.

Apparently I need to kick moodiness to the curb like some ninja warrior princess and not let the things of this world sway what I know to be true.

Well, then.

It's a good thing I have been working out.

I Found Myself in a Tree

Thank you, thank you for the donut intervention! It was successful. Your texts, emails and comments helped me sail through the weekend donut-free and I consider this a minor miracle. Fried dough (among other things) has always been my downfall.

So, how was your weekend? Do you need another one to recover? I do. I always do. And as a way to ease you into this Monday, I thought I would give you an underwhelming play-by-play of exactly how I spent those 48 hours of bliss.

Y'all ready for this?

Friday night I spent the evening with nine terrific people as we celebrated Lizz's graduation and birthday. We went to Racine's, a Denver staple, and I ordered a salad that seemed to grow as I ate it. Does this ever happen to you? Salads seem to multiply the more you eat them. It boggles my mind. If you have an explanation, please pass it along. 

Saturday started slow, as in I watched E!'s True Hollywood Story of Joan and Melissa Rivers. I was sucked in for the full hour and now have a complete aversion to any form of plastic surgery. Although the woman does look good for being as old as she is. In the afternoon, I met up with some friends to see Dark Shadows. And here is my review of that movie: don't go. It was horrible and awful. Oh, poor Johnny Depp. I wonder if he will regret that decision.

Saturday night saw me on the couch ordering things from QVC. Don't judge, people. QVC is amazing and I am completely mesmerized by the sheer brilliance of their marketing ploys. It's incredible we have lived this long without the stuff they are selling. Consider yourself sane deprived if you do not have this channel.

Sunday marked the day that my siblings and I had volunteered to help my mom with her garden. Now, my parent's backyard is big and with all the rain that has fallen in the Denver area lately, it was beginning to look like a rain forest. So Carr, Claire, Noah, Sam and I spent nearly four hours hoeing, pulling weeds, shoveling mulch, digging, pruning, cutting and groaning. Lots of groaning. Apparently this type of work has caused something that I call "muscle confusion." Assistance may be needed. I think we are all one step away from walkers with tennis balls on the legs.

However, there were a few bright spots. For example, from across the lawn, in the midst of weeds and overgrowth, I heard a powerful rendition of "Every Rose Has It's Thorn" by the fabulous duo of Sam and Carr. It could easily become a hit to those who have never heard the original.

And at one point I found myself in a tree, which, you know, is always a highlight.

We concluded the evening with steak, homemade cookies and ibuprofen. The perfect trifecta of any meal.

I know it is Monday, but between shoveling and home shopping, I am ready for a nap.

Needed: Tough Love

People, there are only two weeks left until I leave for Las Vegas. Can you even believe it? I can't. It's like May is flying by at the speed of light and all I can show for it are daily meltdowns on the treadmill and a nephew who is one year older.

Oh, and a painting. I did paint something...although I am really not sure what that is. And in case you are wondering, I stuck that blue-dotted masterpiece on a wall in a spare room at my parent's house. I consider it an anniversary gift. I am sure they will love it forever.

Anywhoo...

This wedding, it's coming. And I have made some fabulous progress towards not looking like a hot dog! But lately, I find that I really, really want to eat donuts. But I also know that donuts have the ability to hang out on my thighs and never leave. Never, ever leave.

So, I am imploring you for some inspiration. Help me stay on track. Give me the statistics for what one donut will do to me, let alone an entire dozen (which is what I would call a typical serving size).

Give it to me straight, people.

I need tough love.

And a little encouragement.

Or a new pair of stretchy pants.

Either way.

Thank you a ton.

You're the best.

Word to your mother.

It's Like Robert Redford is Reading My Mind

Sundance has done it again.

Not only do they have super cool things to sell at unbelievably high prices, but they also make t-shirts that speak to my very soul.

Do you remember this one?

It was perfect. I never bought it, but I wanted to. I really, really wanted to. I just didn't have a spare million dollars.

However, the brilliant designers of Sundance, who sip double organic spring water and make furniture out of tin cans, have come up with this gem:

I say this aloud almost every day. And the going price of this one is a mere $40. That's better than a million but about $35 more than what I pay at Target. To buy or not to buy.

Do you see the decisions I face everyday? It's heavy stuff.

But I am now convinced that Robert Redford reads my blog. How else would he know how to make a shirt for me?

New Word

Me: So Noah, now that you're seven, is there anything new you would like to try?"

Noah: "Yes there is. I would like to get to know a new word."

Me: "A new word? What word is that?"

Noah: "Rambunctious."

I could have sworn that he already knew that word. Oh, seven. You're going to be a fun year.

Almost Seven

This smart, adventurous, funny, mischievous, sweet boy turns seven tomorrow.

The time, it is a flyin'.

Speedster

The other day, I agreed to play T-ball with Noah in the backyard. This usually ends up with me in the "outfield," trying to both tag him out and let him score at the same time.

It's a fine balance, my friends.

When it was finally my turn to bat, I decided to give it my best shot because I felt like I had something to prove (let's not dissect that statement, shall we?). Besides, I feel like every once in a while, it is my duty to show him that not every opponent he meets will let him win at T-ball, even if that person did change his diapers and promise to make him cookies whenever he wants.

This is tough love at its finest.

So, I hit the ball but his lightening-speed legs caught up with it in no time. And as I was rounding second, I could feel him right behind me. So, I did what any compassionate, thoughtful aunt would do, I kicked it into high gear and pulled ahead. I made it to third and barely touched home just as he tagged me.

I felt like an Olympian. I was practically giddy with excitment.  It's not everyday that I can out-run a six year old.

After we both caught our breath, he looked at me and said, "Wow, Sarah. You're a lot faster than you look."

I am pretty sure that was a compliment.

The Joy of Painting

Last night, I hung out with my home girl Tara. She is awesome in every way. She is funny and smart and is really great at golf. She also teaches Zumba and gets to host painting parties for her job. And on top of all that coolness, she beat breast cancer last year.

And so did her mom.

Kicking cancer to the curb is just what they do.

In honor of her parent's 40th anniversary, and in celebration of life, Tara hosted a party at Canvas and Cocktails. An instructor teaches everyone how to paint the same picture while you rock out to music and drink the beverage of your choice.

It is a brilliant concept, especially for the painting challenged. Even though I tend to be a bit on the retentive side when it comes to crafts, I had a blast last night! Of course a glass of wine does help get the creative juices flowing.

And I really loved celebrating my friend and the people who brought her into this world.

Here's a look at some of the artwork:

Obviously mine sticks out like a sore thumb but yellow is not my color. And I can't tell you how many times I heard Bob Ross in my head say, "Just like that, Sarah. Draw a happy little twig right there."

I heart Bob Ross.

I have no idea what I will do with it but I'll be happy to sell it to you for $5,000 or best offer. Just let me know if you are interested.

Tears on the Treadmill

You guys, I have been living at the gym lately.

Well not really. I spend an hour there everyday but it feels like living, especially since I previously only owned a membership just to sound cool. But now I have that dress to wear and a wedding to attend and a summer to conquer. And for the first time ever, I feel like I can actually do it.

I think I may need a theme song. Suggestions are welcome.

So yesterday, as I was running and wishing I had larger lung capacity, I decided to watch Dr. Oz. I find him inspirational and informative and a lot less annoying than most talk show hosts. Yesterday's episode focused on the Transformation Nation campaign where people across the country are trying to be healthier, resulting in one person winning a million dollars.

SIDE NOTE: Why didn't I know about this six months ago? Apparently I am little late to this party.

Anyway, the top ten finalists were on the show and Dr. Oz interviewed each one. And let me tell you something: they are freaking amazing! One guy is losing weight so he can donate one of his kidneys to his ill wife; one woman is becoming a wellness coach to help inspire others; and another guy has encouraged more than 400 people to start living a healthier lifestyle. They were all so happy and encouraging and fit.

And before I knew it, I was blubbering on the treadmill. And I am pretty sure I was loud about it. And what is so strange about this entire thing is that I am not a crier. I tend to be the stoic type or only cry at Hallmark commercials, but yesterday's episode went straight to my heart and there I was, crying like a big, sweaty baby.

Transformation makes me weepy.

Which, by the way, did not help with my breathing. Actually, it rather hindered it and there may have been a snort involved. But let's pretend that didn't happen. And I am sure the person next to me enjoyed my public display of emotion, or PDE as I like to call it. Hopefully I didn't interrupt their stride.

But I realize I am not there to impress people with my athletic prowess, I am only there to survive my workout and come back again the next day. And if this process makes me emotional and my fellow treadmillers can't handle it, then they can run outside and hope a bird doesn't poop on them.

Operation: Don't Look Like a Sausage in your Bridesmaids Dress cannot be stopped!

Movie Interrupted

This past weekend, I saw The Avengers with my good friend Lizz and her soon-to-be hubby Brian. And let me tell you something, that movie does not disappoint! You should go right now and see it. I'm serious. Stop whatever you are doing and just go.

Granted you may be the only one in the movie theater on a Monday morning, but whatever.

However, our overall movie experience was fraught with (pseudo) danger. Halfway through the movie, right when the Avengers had finally learned how to work together and were determined to get the bad guy with really bad hair and ginormous antlers, the fire alarm went off in the movie theater and everyone had to evacuate the building and stand on the other side of the street. True story. There is nothing quite so alarming as being woken out of your movie coma to realize that you could literally be engulfed in flames at any moment.

SIDE NOTE: When I was fresh out of college, my wonderful friend Laura and I decided to take a girls weekend trip to Glenwood Springs. I literally packed half of my closet into a bag and we settled in to eating Snickers for breakfast and exploring all that western Colorado had to offer. It was awesome! On the second day, we decided to catch a movie in a nearby town. And halfway through the movie, the attendant came into the theater, turned on the lights and said that a wild fire had started in Glenwood and that we may want to leave. We immediately got in our car, drove into town and found that our hotel was blocked off from any traffic. We were forced to drive 60 miles east, where we loaded up on rocky road ice cream and Doritos, because we aren't nothing if not prepared when it comes to comfort food.

The good part of the story is that the fire was contained a few days later and we were able to retrieve our clothes. The bad part is that I never did see the rest of that movie. I obviously need some closure.

Back to this past weekend...

What I found particularly amusing/alarming about this fire drill was that no one was in a hurry to exit. They just strolled out of the door, stretched, looked around, and tried to walk straight while still wearing their 3D glasses. I guess if we had actually smelled smoke there would have been a stampede but this fire drill was quite civilized and underwhelming.

While we were waiting to go back in, I overheard one guy say, "Let's start a riot. I have always wanted to be in the middle of a riot."

Really, Einstein? That sounds like a brilliant plan. And what exactly would you be rioting? Bad popcorn? A fire department that is ever on the ready to save you from burning alive? Let's think this one through, shall we?

Some people.

After 20 minutes, we got the go ahead to return to the theater, where they not only started the movie from exactly where we left it, but they also gave us free movie passes to come again. And believe me, I will go again. I love summer movies almost as much as I love peanut butter and I can't wait to see what comes out next. I am thinking the Johnny Depp vampire movie looks hilarious! Anyone else agree? And of course there is the new Batman with all of his angst and whatnot.

And do you know what set off the fire alarm?  Burnt popcorn. It will get you every time.

Noah's First Ride

We celebrate things in our family: birthdays, anniversaries, job promotions, graduations, Valentine's Day, St. Patrick's Day, and countless other milestones. Once, we even celebrated my half-birthday because, well, what else are you going to do on July 9? I dig these traditions. And I am always up for a party.

So last night was another celebration: Noah learned how to ride a bike. It was a pretty magical evening and my brother has the shin splints to prove it.

Sam ran up and down (and up and down) the road, first with his hand on the seat, then with his hand on his back, until Noah took off on his own. It was a real-live example of parenting: learning how to let go and trust your child, even if you know he will fall down at some point.

Noah also learned to turn, how to pull over when cars were coming and the ever-important stop.

And when a car did drive by, they rolled down their window and yelled joyfully right along with us. It was practically a neighborhood event. I think our redneck roots are rubbing off on a few of our snooty neighbors.

Oh suburbia. You are so delightfully weird.

We even skyped in my dad and he was able to witness the entire event.

Here is a video of how it went down:

And one more, just in case you want to see the personification of joy on a six year old:

I am sorry if I screamed in your ear.

As you can see, he's a pretty stoked kid. And when he left the house last night, he waved good-bye to his bike.

Ah, sweet childhood.

Grandparent Marriage Tips

THIS. IS. AWESOME.



I can't even handle it.

Happy Tuesday to you.