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Friday, August 31, 2018

It's Aug, 31. It's Kimball Memory Time.

Back in the good old days when BYU-Idaho was brand spankin' new, and Hogi Yogi was around for delicious sandwiches and frozen yougart, my brother Kimball and I spent a lot of time together.  We mostly were at his apartment because my apartment was not that cool.  Sure we'd go to our classes, but for the most part, we preferred to make our college expereince fun.

I probably got a little too wrapped up in the fun and not so much in the college.  Thank goodness, my brother was my best friend and my "person" because there was a little rough patch, if you will, that I had to get through, and without him there for me, things could have been ugly.

It was the end of the semester.  Some people refer to it as "crunch time".  I was taking mostly English classes.  World Literature (It might have been worth majoring in something else, even if I did have to take math or science!) was so hard.  Thankfully, the library was stocked with most of the plays and videos so I didn't have to read so much (who has time for that??)  Also, back in those days I had discovered a little website full of cliff notes, essay ideas, and summaries of several pieces of literature.  It saved me a time or two.

However, there was no website to bail me out of the other English class I was taking.  I can't remember which one it was, I just remember there was a lot of writing.  Argumentive essays.  Analytical essays.  Persuasive essays.  Narrative essays.  Then little things, like cover letters and resume's.  There was a big ol' section on the movie The Truman Show.  Another essay about that.  Not to mention all of these things had to be written in MLA style, using cited sources that were assigned (like you have to use a magazine or a newspaper, or an encyclopedia etc.) .

Let's just say, this class was so overwhelming that it never really had a place on my priority list.  Okay?  We'll all belive that.

It just so happens that I got to the point where I had get a B on the final or else I wouldn't exactly pass the class with flying colors...get what I'm saying?

Turns out, MLA was a little more foreign to me than I thought.  Also, there's proof that I don't like arguing.  I didn't get the B on the final.  No biggie, right?  I could just retake the class.  Well, except there's this thing called "My parents are going to find out and since they are helping me pay for these credits, they aren't going to be happy about having to pay for that class again especially because I didn't try my super duper best."

So, yeah, there was that.

After I got off the phone with my parents and told them the news, I was feeling pretty down.  I might have been bawling.  I didn't have anywhere to go except to Kimball's apartment.  It was already past curfew, so I knew I wouldn't be able to go inside his apartment, but I needed to talk to someone.

I walked up to his apartment, and the front door was wide open.  He and his roommates were all sitting in the family room playing video games (because please, why would they need to be studying?   Haha!), and before I could even make my presence known, Kimball looked up, saw me standing there, eyes all red and swollen, and he jumped off that couch so fast and came outside (shut the door behind him) and put his arms around me and just let me cry for another few minutes.  He asked me what was wrong.  I told him I failed my class.  I rattled off a few things about how I wasn't good enough to be there, etc.  He stopped me and told me that my grades didn't dertmine who I was or what I was worth.  We talked well into the night, and then he walked me back to my aprtment.

Today, if he were here, he would turn 40 years old.  I can't beleive the number of times I have felt like I needed to talk to him.  I have wanted to talk to him.  I could tell him anything and know that he wouldn't judge me, and that he'd give me encouragement in the exact way I needed it.

This picture is only appropriate here because we're "beefing up" an essay.  See how much we love essays?

Sorry about the blur...it's a picure of a picture.  But seriously, this guy was sidekick for years.  Who else just takes model pictures with their kid sister?  Plus, his shirt says "BEAT I.F." with a tiger in a circle with the slash through it.  I wish we would have kept that shirt.

Taking selfies before selfies were even cool.  #cameratimer

I'm grateful that I know what I do about life, death, and life after death. 

Thankfully I also have my parents and 6 other siblings that I can rely on for needed pep talks.  I  have needed a few over the years.

Wednesday, August 29, 2018

Big Day

Ace is a handy guy.  He fixes stuff, builds stuff, and makes our house cool.  :)    Ha! Most recently he put in a new kitchen sink.  I honestly could stack dishes in there for a week and they would all fit.

All my OCD pals, don't worry.  I don't let them stack up for week.  Now that school has started, I have time to do dishes.

..and take mirror selfies. 

Here are our traditional first day of school, in front of our tree, that I think is getting taller:






Let's all freak out that I have a child in high school.  HIGH SCHOOL!  I'm serious.  On the count of three.  One...two...Already freaking out.

So while they're all away at school ALL DAY LONG, I'm busting out the bon bons, and kicking my feet up, and....

...oh wait.  No I'm not.  I have a baby.

Thursday, August 23, 2018

Bowling Buddies


Not my sport.


Because my 6 year old can beat me even when we're both using bumpers.

Pretty much anyone can win when they bowl against me.  It's fine.

Double fist pump

It's all serious business with this kid and sports.

There is such a thing as Nike bowling shoes, right?  Perhaps that is why I'm such a poor bowler.  No swoosh on the ball or shoes.

I'm just here for the selfies, really.

These guys could go Pro.  Easy.

He'll just stick to the court sports too...

Someone get this girl a ball!

In the event that anyone questions how funny this guy is...Oh my gosh. Hilarious.  And that beard...Hearts for eyes...
When Nana and Papa are in town, Bowlero is a must.  My kids always look forward to a game of knocking pins (I just made that up.  It's probably going to be a real term pretty soon.  Watch for it.).  

In the meantime.  I'll be watching Eastbay for Nike bowling shoes and a Nike bowling ball.  

Wednesday, August 22, 2018


I'm not ashamed to admit that back in 2012, after my twins were born,  I picked up a little friend called PTSD.  For years I'd wake up in the middle of the night in a panic because I was sure that Bogey wasn't breathing.  I'd sometimes close my eyes and have this vision of him in the rigged up C-Pap mask they had on him at Primary Children's Hospital.   Even writing about it right now, sends a little shiver through me.

Every time Bogey had a surgery, a doctors appointment, or a cold, I'd freak out.  I'd blow up Dr. Axelrod's (the Standford cardiologist) cell phone with ridiculous scenarios and problems that I was sure were going to arise if they hadn't already happened.  I'd create this awful pit in my stomach, and my brain would go nuts.  I'd start spouting off whatever came to mind to whoever was around (Doctors, nurses, strangers in stairwells, etc.)

Over the last 6 years, I've calmed down quite a bit. I immediately freak out and start to panic any time any of my kids have to have surgery, or any time Bogey has to have a cavity filled (he has to go under at the hosptial every time).

Recently, Slice had a little cyst growing on her head that needed to be removed.  Guess who freaked out and drank 2- 52 ounce Diet Cokes instead of taking her to the procedure?  Me.  Good thing I married a rockstar, who calmly held his baby girl while they cut the cyst out.

Slice was 100% fine.  She did great.

Yesterday, Gimme had to have a little chain hooked to her tooth that is growing in the wrong way.  It took a little procedure that required anesthesia.  Guess who went to Maverik?  Enter, me.  Guess who took Gimme?  Enter, rockstar husband.

Gimme did great.  She was feeling totally fine a few hours after she got home.  I even took her to register for classes at the high school.


OK, so maybe medical stuff isn't the only thing that will give me PTSD after all. ;)

Saturday, August 18, 2018

Take Me Out to the Ballgame

I feel like I don't get enough baseball in my life because my kids don't play it semi-professionally (like, no city league, or little league, or any league.  We're just the backyard wiffle ball type).  However, that doesn't lessen my love for the sport.  I wish more NY Yankees games were televised.  I could easily blow a day on the couch watching those pinstripes.  

Since that isn't happening, my only option is the Idaho Falls Chuckars.  
I'll take it--especially since I get to go with my friends and family.

I've said before and I'll say it again and again.  I love my friends.  Erica and Candice (I need to get them offical blog names) have been my vents and my source of some of my hardest laughs.  I don't know what I would do without them.  They keep me cultured.  They keep me sane.  They keep me happy. 

Thanks to Rainbow Restoration, we got tickets for our family to catch another Chuckars game this summer.  There's not much that beats a summer night at the ball game with the ones you love.  I mean, seriously.  We had kettle corn too.  Dreams coming true all over the place.  

Gimme had friends over (um, so, this social thing.  Whoa.), and invited Birdie to stay with her so that she could be the "server" with her other little friend.  I think that is a sweet sister move?  I'm not sure, but Birdie was stoked to be a part of such a grown up activity. 

I'm already freaking out that school starts next week.  Any ideas where summer went?  I guess the good news is, we have the World Series to look forward to...

Friday, August 17, 2018


Being in charge of the Hart2Hart Reunion (that's my brothers and sisters) is no easy task.  I mean, I say that, but what I'm trying to say is that, we make it much harder than it needs to be.

Oklahoma (my oldest sister) and I were in charge this year, and while we stressed about activities, all we really needed to do was just plan when and what to eat.  Every other activity just needed to include a ball and a hoop.

We started out at the cemetary and shared memories about Kimball.  We want to make sure that those children who were born after he died, know what kind of person their uncle was.  We want them to know everything there is to know about him.  He was actually that great.

On the way home from the cemetary, we stopped at the chruch and had dinner, and played games.  Again, the spikeball balls turned into basketballs, and the nets were set aside so we could have a 3 point contest, and a little dunk session (for those that could jump like that.  OK, so JBean).

On Saturday, we had breakfast and split into teams for the Amazing Race.  I used 6 clues that we've used for our Ultimate Amazing Race, that led 5 teams (can you believe we have that many people in my family?) around Idaho Falls on the hunt for heart stickers.

 After the race, we cooled off on the inflateable water slide.  Um, it was huge, but kept everyone entertained for hours!

We loved being together.  There is nothing more important than family in my life.