We found out that our future kid is most likely a boy (we won't know for sure until the big 20-week ultrasound but at 16 weeks the doctor says he's pretty sure it's a boy in there, so we're going with it.)
He got to eat Nielsen's frozen custard at 11 in the morning, which is what happens when your wife's doctor's office is conveniently located down the street.
I'm happy because:
Baby looks healthy and has flailing little arms and hands that were waving at us during the ultrasound, which melted my heart a bit. Also, although I know most women wouldn't be, I'm pretty jazzed at the prospect of having a boy. The thought of bows and ribbons and the color pink and all that stuff scares me a bit.
My doctor told me that I am good to go skiing during this pregnancy, and that I can go ahead and eat sushi if I feel like it. I almost kissed him on the mouth.
Oh, and I got to indulge in some mid-morning Nielsen's as well.
After all, that baby weight isn't going to gain itself.
Sorry this pic is super blurry. It's actually just a screenshot I stole from the card company's website.
And while we're talking apologies, please don't be offended if you didn't get one of these in the mail. I normally don't even send out Christmas cards since the process ranks a little too high on the holiday hassle meter for me, but this year I found a sweet deal online through a company that mails the cards out for you so I decided to jump on it. The catch was that the promo code expired the day after I found it so I had to frantically scrape together addresses and I'm sure plenty of names got lost in the shuffle. Either that or I just forgot due to pregnancy brain. Is it too early to use that excuse? I hope not cause it's pretty much my trump card these days.
One chilly night in 2008 we decided to go see the Christmas lights at Hogle Zoo with our (relatively) new friends Megan and Travis. The night was promising at first, as the lights were pretty awesome and the weather was appropriately wintery, but somewhere near the reptile house Megan got separated from the group, and due to some cell phone malfunctions it took us a good 45 minutes to find her again, which left poor Megs a bit traumatized.
But out of that unfortunate debacle was born a lovely Christmas tradition. Each year us and the Morrisons (and sometimes invited guests) hit up one of the Christmas sights around the valley that we have never been to before. In 2009 we went to see the lights at Thanksgiving Point, which was totally lame except for the fact that Megan and I were able to serenade the boys with rousing renditions of "I Want A Hippopotamus for Christmas" since we viewed the lights from the comfort of the car. I think they were ready to bludgeon us by the end of the night. Last year we were joined by Morgan and Hansol and braved the crowds at the Festival of Trees, which was cool but oh so packed with people.
This year we decided to keep things more low key, which ended up being a great idea since Trav hurt his back the day before and was all kinds of doped up on muscle relaxers. Our destination of choice was the Winder Dairy Country Store, which is apparently a sort of Christmas Mecca around these parts since they serve up delicious scones during the holiday season and all the houses leading up to the store are decked out with some amazing lights. Here are a few pics of the night, courtesy of Megan's iphone:
Did you know that Mike and I are really good at looking awkward in pictures? Some might say it's a skill, but i think it's more like a gift from God or something.
Megan and Trav do a much better job, even with Red being kind of out of it from his meds:
Hot scones with honey butter. Delish:
We ended the night by watching The Family Stone while Megan and I finished up our holiday wreaths. It was a great start to the Christmas season and a tradition that I hope continues for years to come.
First of all, as I mentioned in my last post, we got another dog. He’s a rat terrier and his name is Riggins (Mike chose the name, egged on by my whole family). He is otherwise known as Riggs, Baby Riggs, or Rigg Daddy. Classy, no?
I never thought I would own a small dog since I always thought of them as sissies, but after our friends Megan and Travis bought a rat terrier a couple of years ago we realized that they were legit. And Riggs proved himself by champing his first hike yesterday:
As for Lola, I think it’s safe to say that she loves her new pet: Matt and Mash were so taken with Baby Riggs that they adopted his brother, so now Riggs and Gunther get together often for puppy playdates:
Here are Smash and I holding our brother dogs at the Olympus football game a couple of weeks ago: Which brings us to our next topic: Titan football. Smeegs surprised us all this year by deciding to break out of his ski bum, lacrosse-player mold to give football a go his senior year. We were all a little nervous that Smeeglet would end up riding the pine all season and we would have to feel bad for him, but lo and behold the kid got himself a starting wide receiver position. Going to his games with the family every Friday night has been one of my favorite things this fall. It would be even better if the Olympus field hadn’t been under construction all season, but unfortunately the city of Holladay is hell-bent on destroying any and all vestiges of my younger years. At least Mr. Felt is still the announcer.
Last week was the Olympus-Skyline game, or, as it is known by us local folk, the “Battle for the Rock.” It also happened to be the region championship and Olympus won in a nail-biter of a game in which Smeegs made a crucial catch in overtime. We got to meet up with him and snag a picture afterwards (sadly we didn’t get one with the in-laws before Smeegs had to get on the bus). It was by far the best game of the season and brought back memories of the Olympus victory over Skyline during my own senior year. All together now, class of 2004: “we got the rock, we got the rock…” how did the rest of that cheer even go? I remember it sounding pretty awkward.
One rainy afternoon last April, Butch and I sat in Chipotle taking a break from our Saturday errands and daydreaming about the upcoming summer. It had been a rough year for husband, consisting of lots of early mornings, late nights, homework, and other miscellaneous stresses that meant only one thing: we were both ready for some fun in our lives. As we finished our chips and salsa, we made a list of all that we wanted to do this summer, and, even though we fell a little short of our grand schemes, we still managed to soak up every last ounce of the season’s goodness.
Our summer adventures began and ended in Lake Powell. We took a trip down with my family in early May and ventured down again in September with a random group of family and friends. In between came a vacation to Costa Rica and a major house project, as well as the activities on our Summer must-do list: camping, hiking, lots of weekend trips to the cabin, an RSL game with Megan and Trav, campfires, tennis matches, many a snow cone run with the Ragsdales, an outdoor concert or two, girls camp (Butch came up for a night), boating, fireworks, and plenty of backyard barbecues. In short, ours was a summer of excess. We stayed up way too late, spent too much money, ate too many s’mores, let our house get way too dirty, and put way too many miles on our trusty old subaru. We loved every minute of it.
But like most periods of indulgence, this one came to a crashing halt in September with a new school year for Mike and a cold for me. It was the first time I’d been sick in over a year and a half, so at first I was in denial of the situation and carried on with my normal routine, which resulted in the cold turning into a sinus infection and me spending hours on the couch whimpering that my head was going to explode while the rest of Utah was busy enjoying a beautiful Indian summer.
This is all to say that this year I was even more ready than usual for the arrival of my favorite season, since donning thick wool socks and sipping a cup of hot herbal tea (as is the Preo way when you are sick) doesn’t sound nearly as appealing when it’s 80+ degrees outside.
Luckily I was able to get my first real taste of fall when we ventured up to Bear Lake this weekend. The air was cooler, the skies were brighter, and Logan Canyon was positively aglow in my favorite fall color combo: bright yellow aspens against dark green pines. (I realize these photos are totally pathetic, but they were the best I could manage while driving).
The atmosphere at the cabin was more slow-paced and autumnal as well, as we spent the weekend sprawled on the couch watching General Conference, taking walks along the lake, and just enjoying the beautiful scenery.
I even channeled my inner Mormon housewife by baking some pumpkin cinnamon rolls and making this wreath out of the extra felt I had left over from our Harry Potter costumes. Special thanks to my sister-in-law for helping me cut out all those circles. And on our way home on Sunday we stopped to pick up this little guy: Yep, October’s been good to us so far. I’m excited to see the rest of autumn unfold.
My little brother sent me this photo with the following caption: "best t-shirt I have ever seen." I wholeheartedly agree, Smeegs.
Apparently a lady at the Riverton little league football game made this number all by herself, and Smeeglet couldn’t resist asking her for a photo. Just when we thought his after-school job filming kids sports couldn’t get any creepier…
Before (what our house looked like when we bought it):
In-Between (what it looked like for two years- we had to replace the windows and front door before we moved in):
After (painted the outside, paved the rest of the driveway):
Of all the remodeling projects we (well, mostly Mike) have undertaken since buying our little fixer-upper, painting the exterior has definitely been one of the most grueling. We (again, mostly Mike) spent the better part of the month of June sanding and painting our little hearts out. Butch was a superstar from start to finish as always, but my lifelong fear of ladders got the best of me at times so I devoted myself to important tasks like standing on the front lawn complaining that the shade of taupe we chose looked too warm or stressing over what color to paint the front door. At one point I was mixing paint from various sample cans to try and create the apple green I pictured in my mind. Shiz got crazy. But now that it's finished I'm really happy with the outcome. The photos don't really do it justice (probably because there were shadows everywhere when I took them) but the paint job takes at least twenty years off the place. And I did finally find the perfect color for the door (offbeat green by Sherwin Williams).
In other house updates, I finally found a chair for my living room after looking for one since I wrote this post. I’ve come to the realization that in order to have a decent looking home you need to spend either time or money, and both are constantly in short supply at the Cassity house. Which is why it took me roughly ten months to find this little beauty at the overstock.com warehouse sale:
At first Butch was a little hesitant about this chair but after he saw that it reclined he was sold. Is it pretty lame of me to be blogging about a chair? I’m thinking it probably is. But such are the small accomplishments that make up my life these days.
If anyone is interested, we are selling the old chair. Details here.
Sometimes it pays to have a phone that looks like this:
And not like this:
Like when your phone happens to fall out of your pocket as you’re making your way through the swarm of people at a free Bright Eyes concert. Because your phone is not password-protected, the person who finds it will text random numbers in your contacts to inform them of the situation, and when you call your phone after discovering its disappearance he will kindly offer to meet up with you so you can reclaim it. But just when you start thinking how lucky you are to have found a Good Samaritan in this sea of drugged-out hipsters, he will say “you’re lucky it wasn’t an iphone or something. I probably would have just kept it.” Classy.
So maybe the real hero of this story is Butch. Who, after discovering that the reason my phone wasn’t charging a few months ago was not because it is an old piece of crap but because I had somehow managed to melt chocolate into it, said “this is why we shouldn’t get you nice things.” Wise words, husband.
The title of this post refers to my response when people imply that missing the previews before a movie is not a big deal. The fact of the matter is that I live and die by the previews. More so now that I average about 2.5 trips to the movie theater per year and in spite of the fact that every movie trailer is now posted on YouTube. So when we saw Planet of the Apes with Meg and Trav this weekend, I was super jazzed when the theater showed not two, not three, but at least six previews before the movie started. And I about peed my pants when I saw this one:
Yes, Tim Riggins is officially starring in a movie. I can’t make any sense of what it’s supposed to be about, but the shirt is off and the southern accent is intact. Which is really all that matters.
And while we’re on the subject of movies, Hunger Games keeps looking better and better:
When I think about having children someday, the thought of the bedtime story ritual is one that warms my heart. I’m excited to revisit all my childhood favorites with my own kids, which means that as soon as they’re old enough we’ll be reading Harry Potter together (or maybe just following along in the book while Jim Dale reads to us, since he is amazing). And I’m sure that, somewhere along the way, I will tell them all about what it was like to experience Pottermania firsthand.
I will tell them about how I read the first book in the series when I was twelve and deemed it overrated, then had to swallow my words after I finished the second and third and realized what all the fuss was about. I will reminisce about the fighting that took place between my siblings and I over whose turn it was to read the latest hardcover before we wised up and each just bought our own and read them together in the backyard.
I will tell them about how the bookstore I worked at in college had a midnight release party for both the 6th and 7th books, which meant that I not only got to start reading the books a day before the general public (shh…nobody tell Richard), but also that, once the clock struck midnight, I got to hand out copies to scores of eager kids decked out in cloaks and lightning scars that smiled at me like I was santa. Those parties were also a bit hectic and crazy at times, but luckily friends showed up to keep me company: When the subject of the Harry Potter movies comes up, I’ll be sure to tell my offspring about how, on the night that the very last movie was released, their dad and I went to the Ivory’s party dressed up as Oliver Wood and Katie Bell, Gryffindor’s finest quidditch players. An obscure costume choice to be sure, but the rules of the Ivory’s HP party are firm: you must RSVP with your character in advance and no duplicates are allowed.
The party itself was elaborate, whimsical, and a great excuse to unleash my inner Potter geek. In short, it was the perfect way to say goodbye to this phenomenon. Thanks for the invite, Abs.
With Smash, Matt, and Smeegs...a.k.a. Bellatrix, Crabbe, and Kreacher (Smeegs even shaved his head for the occasion): Quidditch: The feast: Preo siblings with Abby and Steph (Fred Weasley and Hermione): Honeydukes Sweet Shop: The midnight screening of the movie at good old Holladay theater: Would you like to hear my take on the movie? If not you may kindly exit out of this screen, because here it is:
I liked this movie up until the last half hour or so. I’m usually down when the HP movies deviate from the books a bit, since the movies will never be as great as the books anyway so you might as well change it up, but in this case I thought the changes they made to the plot after Harry meets up with Dumbledore in that parallel universe thingy were pretty freaking lame.
If the filmmakers had left things more or less the way JK wrote them the ending would have been a lot more satisfying and theatrical. Instead we had to hear Neville deliver some cheesed-out speech and see Harry and Voldy spin around in a weird scene that looked like someone made it using the photobooth function on their Macbook. Plus Ginny is awful as usual. When I watch the movies I always find myself wishing that the writers would have just gone for broke and had Harry hook up with Luna instead since they have way more chemistry together. Oh well. At least we still have the puppet pals:
The last stop on our trip was Manuel Antonio, a city located on the ocean. We splurged this time around and booked rooms at a nice hotel called The Falls. Worth every penny. Most of our time here was spent just playing and relaxing at the beautiful beaches.
We also saw a ton of the wildlife that Manuel Antonio is famous for. On the drive from Monteverde we pulled over to see these crocodiles hanging out under a bridge:
And this sloth was just chillin in a tree outside of our hotel: Although I wouldn't consider myself much of an animal person, I went completely ape shiz (pun intended) over the monkeys. I seriously wanted to bring one home with me. You can hear me spazzing out over them in these videos:
There was a restaurant across from our hotel that was built around an old military plane (for you history buffs, it is the twin of the one involved in the Iran-Contra Crisis). Delicious food and it had an incredible view of the ocean. And even though we were in a foreign country, we still caught a bit of the NBA playoffs:
Our last day ended up being overcast and a bit stormy, which was kind of a bummer since that is the day Josh rented a surfboard. The boys attempted surfing on the crazy choppy waves, but Heather and I were content to just relax on the beach. Since our flight left at 6 in the morning, we decided to be adventurous and, instead of booking a hotel for that night in San Jose, just left Manuel Antonio in the early evening. Despite a few stops (we checked out the city of Jaco, and I got my last dose of Costa Rican food in the form of some rice, beans, and amazingly delicious fresh fish), we still rolled into San Jose before midnight. So we killed a few hours at Denny's and then ended up trying to sleep on the floor of the airport. Kind of miserable but all part of the traveling experience, right? The 6-hour flight home was one of those hellish ordeals where you are so tired but can't sleep. I felt like a cranky toddler and by the time we landed I was about ready to pull my hair out.
But the nice part about the flight home sucking is that it makes you forget that you're coming back from a beautiful place where you got to just hang out with your husband and friends all day with no real-life worries to speak of. Instead you just focus on how awesome it's going to be to get home and collapse onto your bed. Of course, that feeling died pretty quickly and now I'm ready for another vacation. India next spring, Butch?
Honeydukes Sweet Shop:
And this sloth was just chillin in a tree outside of our hotel:
You can hear me spazzing out over them in these videos:
