Habits shmabits...

Everyone says that it takes 21 days to make a habit. People also still think Tupac is alive. I find both of those statements ridiculous. I would like to meet whoever did that study because I don't know where they got their information.  I would like to talk about the habit of getting up early.  I always want to get up early. I even set my alarm with the intention to get up early. That's about as far as it goes because as soon as my alarm goes off I immediately wonder why a sound is interrupting something as important as sleeping.  I woke up every day at 6:30 on my mission. Every day for a year and half adds up to a lot more than 21 days.  I hated it the last day of my mission as much as the first.  I don't comprehend what is so refreshing about peeling your warm body that is cemented to the sheets up in the dark.  G gets up at 5:30 to read scriptures and exercise.  I support him from the covers because I can't even get my mind to wake up at that hour enough to process what he is doing.

2 mornings ago I woke up at 6:30. By myself. I couldn't go back to sleep. It was bizarre. I went through all my options until finally I realized that I could possibly get up.  I decided to do it not because I'm motivated and a ball of morning sunshine, but by default because I was bored lying in bed.  I hurried and exercised before my brain had time to turn on and then had sincere morning prayer, read scriptures and just had time to be still before the Liv alarm went off at 8.  It was the craziest thing because it was one of the best days I've had.  I felt like my mind was clear, that I had an extra tank of patience, and was more in tune with the spirit than I had been for months.  Maybe it has to do with what Joseph Fielding Smith said:

"People die in bed, and so does ambition."

Don't worry, it's not a permanent thing or even close to a habit. I still have a bad case of bed gravity and have a very hard time waking up, but it did make me think that there is something to the morning. I still think the people who made up the 21 day thing are full of baloney, but for one morning, I was loving it. Maybe just because something isn't fun and you don't like it doesn't mean its not a habit, it just means you consistently want something bad enough to make the sacrifice on a daily basis.

Thought of the day: 

"One of the keys to an enduring faith is to judge correctly the curing time required.
That curing does not come automatically through the passage of time, but it does take time. Getting older does not do it alone. It is serving God and others persistently with full heart and soul that turns testimony of truth into unbreakable spiritual strength." –Henry B. Eyring CR April 2012

Happy Birthday Doctor Dog...

It's true. June 4th is something you should have celebrated because it's the day Casey Doggett was born. It was a big day for planet Earth. They invited us over for a delicious Boston cream pie cake.

After the candles were removed, Levi took advantage of the situation and was very proactive in his cake consuming.  Why wait for unnecessary annoyances like plates and forks when you can achieve the goal?  Thank you Levi Doggett for this important life lesson.  I'd like to point out his left nostril which was completely clogged with cake immediately following his cake attack:

 Liv and Levi shared a first sippie cup (intermittent with shrieks and whining).  They often share germs but since they are betrothed, it's not that big of a deal. Germs don't matter when you're in love.

We're so glad Casey Dog was born, mostly because his cake was so good but also because he's a quality human being.

Bad day...But not that bad.

I'd like to think I have Pollyanna tendencies and always seek out the positive with the nickname chipper cheerful canary Chel but let's be honest. I don't.  In fact, lots of times, I can be a contagious blob of negative caustic being.  I try to settle for my baseline of somewhere in the middle but sometimes days are so lame you just want to throw them in a garbage bag and not even donate it to Goodwill because you don't want anyone else to feel how you feel, it would be like donating your puke.  Well, I was having one of those days where I felt just ready to get back in bed and it was only 10 am.  I wasn't tired, I just wanted to day to be over.  It was gray rainy "blah" weather, my cinnamon life for breakfast was stale, my contact had a slight tear that making my eyes water, Liv was already on her 4th outfit, my oil was past due for a change,  and even though nothing was really bad, vacuuming and doing laundry didn't seem to glorious and I just wasn't feeling thrilled and excited for the day's itinerary.  I was on my way to the auto place and stopped at a red light when I looked to the left and saw that I was at a historic monument. Since the light was long, I decided to read what Andrew Davidson did to deserve a sign.

Well, suddenly my cinnamon life cereal wasn't so bad.  Talk about a bad day...this poor guy came home to less than the welcome party he was dreaming off.  Suddenly I realized that it's all about perspective and that Andrew Davidson probably may have been whining about having to get his oil changed in his car, except for he didn't even have a car because he probably rode a horse which smells horrible and hurts your bum.  That's right. I have a car. That's a fairly big deal. The probability of G getting tomahawked or our apartment burning down when returned home were fairly slim.  I was feeling better by the second. Let's just say I didn't feel as grumpy as I walked in to get my oil changed.  Thank you Andrew Davidson for the paradigm spanking.  It's all about perspective. The next time I feel grumpy, I'm just going to drive past this monument.  If you're having a bad day, I'd be happy to take you on a tour, it might help you as well...

My new flexibility idea...

Today commemorates one week of working out. I have a confession. I always skip the warm up. I don't like to be swinging my arms with Jillian's "wind mill" visual and trying to act like I know yoga while everyone on the workout DVD is wrapping their arms 7 times around their feet with their head flat on their knees like they are some type of Zen master on the top of a mountain with incense burning.  The whole thing just make me feel very inflexible.  I checked on Liv a couple nights ago and thought maybe she's on to something....why not stretch in your sleep?  Liv apparently does the splits as she sleeps so she wakes up extra limber each morning.  It's worth a try...

Better Bag Ideas...

Out of the $20 and the rabbit Liv got from Grandma on her birthday, she prefers the rabbit.  
We packed our first box. Correction, Gar packed our first box.  What can I say? It's one of his gifts. The king of order and organization.  We decided for family night that we were going to watch a conference talk for our lesson  http://www.lds.org/general-conference/sessions/2012/04?lang=eng,  eat apple pie and ice cream for dessert and then pack and watch "America's got Talent" for activity.  When G suggested we do our books I thought that would take around 10 minutes.  Then I forgot about G style organization and now our books are in such impeccable order we could pass out a library card because every box is categorized into their specific category.  I love that my husband is so organized.  Especially since disorganization has been a perma-weakness of mine for oh let's see, the last 29 years.  Packing is also a weakness or rather something I like to do about as much smelling a pet store, pulling out a sliver, and eating cold eggs. Perhaps I would be a little more excited about the activity if the boxes weren't so boring looking.  While we're on the topic, bags are pretty  boring in America too compared to these bags in Europe. I think they are on to something besides Lindt chocolate balls, this is a simply fantastic idea that needs to happen from sea to shining sea:

The Seibold family combined weight: 389 pounds.

Bodies are so much effort. We just got the oil changed in the car and that is the kind of maintenance I can handle...every 3,000 miles you stop in and smell rubber tires while watching men with greasy  black hands do manly things saying words you have no idea what they mean like carburetor and then give them $25 bucks with a coupon and you're good to go.  Taking care of a body is far more complex. You feed it at least three times a day and if you don't feed it the right things you start to jiggle.  If you don't give it enough sleep you want to bite everyone's head off and transform into an unpleasant cranky version of yourself.  I love to eat but this whole daily exercise thing really gets to me.  I think I lack the gene of all the people I see outside in florescent sports bras jogging with their 6 pack glistening in the sun.  Those are the same people weird me out every time I go to the gym because they  are pumping iron and breathing like they are having contractions in the last stage of labor. 

 My favorite part of the gym is the water fountain. I make sure to get a drink every few minutes because it's the only thing there is to look forward to.  G and I decided to motivate our flabby selves to see who could lose 5 pounds first with a grand prize offering.  Let me tell you about the golden period of weight loss.  It's the few days before you actually start weight loss but you have decided you will so all the guilt is erased of anything you are eating because you are "going to be starting in a few days" so you feast like it's going to be nothing but fast Sunday for the next year.

So the golden period ended, I even bought some water bottles and pulled out my old friend Jillian Michaels with her 30 day shred. We wrote our current weights on the mirror in the bathroom with our goal weights even larger next to them.

 Since the challenge began I have gained 2 pounds and Gar has gained 3.  The only thing this fitness challenge has done is made us more aware of our weight gain.

We are not giving up but I wonder if I will ever love the gym or enjoy sweating while Jillian yells at me from the TV.  I want to be one of those people who checks labels on food for things like "riboflavin, transaturated suicide fat", etc and knows the difference, one of those people who has the hard core calorie counter strapped to your bulging bicep as you run at 5 am and has a "workout" mix on your ipod.  I don't know if it's possible but I'm open to suggestions....

A memorable memorial day...

When G and I were playing, "Are you smarter than a 5th grader" the question asked which holiday commemorated those who had died for our country. I said, "That is such an easy question. Duh." I then marked Veterens day and got it wrong.  I knew that memorial day is the day we go to the cemetery but I have obviously been missing the point for the last oh 29 years.  I would like to say that after that "Are you smarter than a 5th grader" turning point in my life, I changed everything and spent the day in quiet meditation at Arlington.  I really am so thankful and overwhelmed by what people have sacrificed for freedom but memorial day was more of a family fun day than a veterans appreciation day.  I think maybe I will celebrate it appropriately like I chose on the wii game....

The Seibolds have a tradition of having a huge and I mean huge group of people over for a massive barbeque.  Before they put the burgers on the grill, everyone goes over to the baseball diamond and has a big softball game. It might have been more fun if the air didn't feel like a hot down comforter right out of the dryer.  I think humidity should be in places where torture is necessary.

 While the boys played I hung out with Kerr and Kim (who is pregnant with twin boys), pushed Jax on the swings and tried to bond, and tried to not pass out in the oppressive humid heat that made me feel like I was sitting in the middle of an active volcano. The pool was a welcome activity after feasting even though Liv was not a fan:

The women chatted and ate and then proceeded to continue their chatting.

 The men on the other hand were not chatting at all in order to give proper respect to the game going on:

We had to leave soon after because G had to work the next day. I love summer. I welcome every sprinkler spraying, popsicle dripping, deodorant defying, warm late night talking, slurpee buying moment.

So far, I think Liv shares my summer sentiments as well:

The day of my birth...

I don't think I am too high maintenance. I have a firm testimony of garage sales and second hand purchasing. I got my nails once, for my wedding and will never do it again. I don't have a little dog, a gucci purse or even know what one looks like, and rarely order anything not on the .99 cent menu at Wendy's.  However, there is one aspect of my life when I doubt there are few people more high maintenance than I.  It is call holiday high maintenance and I have been my entire life.  I think it's genetic because I think there are multiple people in my family who also have this gene.  What it means is that I will never be one of those meek holiday humans that quietly says without any resentment at all weeks later that it was their birthday.   No big fuss, no hoop la, no build up, in fact they prefer people not to know that they are having a birthday.  I find it absurd, borderline ludicrous. I start telling people about my birthday a month before we're even close to the planning stages.  I love the concept of birthdays.  A whole day to just relish and commemorate the fact that you are alive.  It's not a day where you feel guilty for forgetting the meaning like getting presents on Christmas or stuffing your double chins with excessive amounts of cadbury eggs on Easter because the whole point is to honor the person that was born. No guilt. No deep meaning. No trip to the cemetery or sentimental programs, just superficial praise, honor, and worldly gifts of adoration.  I love my birthday. I always have and I always will.  I love other people's birthday too but I love mine the most. G comes from the opposite end of the holiday expectation spectrum.  If I gave him a water balloon that had already been popped and a piece of toast with no jam on it and said, "Happy Birthday", he would sleep just fine that nap and be thankful for the toast. Thus, we have had some serious discussions on celebrations and their importance in our marriage.

 So I was extremely pleased when I woke up on my birthday to see that G had a meeting with the whole family wherein he explained his holiday high maintenance wife and then explained the festivities of the day.  I was already excited. We kicked off the day with breakfast in bed...my request of cinnamon brown sugar pop tarts and fresh juice was granted. I was feeling glad to be born all ready.

Since I love to talk and being with people and talking is one of my ultimate favorite activities, G had everyone sign up for a 12 minute slot (allowing 3 minutes for bathroom breaks or a drink) for me to spend time with each member in the family.  While we chatted, G had bought my favorite smoked gouda cheese and crackers and make strawberry daqueris and pina colada drinks and other treats to be served throughout the day:

It was non stop service all day.  I had neck rubs on demand, long talks all day with whoever was next on my assigned list (I felt a little like a Bishop at tithing settlement), and my favorite foods. After the talks, we went outside to play my ultimate elementary school recess activity...four square. 

 If you haven't played four square in a long time, you should. It's way more fun than I remember and it became quite competitive with all adults.  G gave permission to paint a permanent four square court at our new home. After Garrett and Taylor won, it was time for dinner and I was thrilled because we were having my favorite: shrimp and salmon.

We had the best bread from a fancy restaurant called Krusemeres and everyone feasted.

G then presented all the prizes that would be available as we entered game time.  Since I love playing games for prizes, there was much more incentive to come off victorious.  We played a money guessing game, sudoku challenge and then a few intense rounds of perpetual commotion where Kerry and Tanner dominated but mom and I were not trailing far behind.  The teams were as follows:

Then it was time for presents. I don't know why people pretend they don't want presents or have a party and say don't bring gifts. Are you kidding me? I love gifts. Love. If I was super rich I think I would open a bank account just to buy phenomenal birthday gifts for everyone I love all year around. One of Gar's gifts came with a great coupon card:

Everyone was very thoughtful and I was loving it all, especially my note from Tanner.  After everyone had such a thrilling time watching me open gifts (let's be honest, that's the most boring thing for all party participants involved) it was time for dessert which was a bummer for everyone besides me because apparently rice pudding isn't the ultimate dessert for them.  I realize it's kind of a nursing home food but it has always been my very favorite and I felt like my grandma Harris was there while I ate it.  I know everyone has their agency but I would not hesitate to recommend rice pudding to anyone, anywhere, anytime. I love it.

I am so glad I was born. I feel so weird to be turning 29 when I still haven't matured past my 17 year old prime.  Maybe 29 is the year when it will kick in and I will talk about mature things like 401k funds and shop at Lands End and stop laughing like a fog horn buffalo.  Probably not, but you never know.  I hope everyone had a good May 28th because it is one of my personal favorites of the whole year. 

Bienvenidos Hudson Alexander...

We were such hard core garage sale participants that after we got home, Becky went into labor.  We were sad that she missed the birthday festivities but the excuse was legitimate. Since she didn't have an epidural, all the husbands complimented her on joining the "real woman" club. Kerry and I remain proudly part of the birthing wimps circle with no desire to ever move out. 

The family elevator full of anticipation on checking out the new twig on the family tree...

Even though Brock has doubled our offspring, the fathers and cousins had a bit of bonding in the corner.

Jaxson had a little whine fest on the hospital floor which made Liv stare. I'd probably whine too if all I had were girl cousins to hang out with. I'm sure he will be grateful for Hudson's manly presence.

All of us staring and enjoying the new born babe lying in a manger hospital bed.
Red and I enjoying the big day