And a Little Added Sunshine For Your Day...

Enjoy.

Wednesday Is a Special Day.

You know Christmas?  Right.  I figured you did.  Well, you know how kids get all excited for Christmas?  So much so that they lose precious hours of sleep over the hullabaloo of it all?  Wee chillins tucked in their beds find themselves chasing those dancing sugar plums in the middle of July?  Utter excitement, I dare say.

Lucky (or unlucky) for Chad and me, our hullabaloo comes not once, but a grand total of fifty two (fifty three, if you count Christmas) times a year!  Our hullabaloo day?  It's Wednesday.  Do you know why?  Of course you don't know why.  That's why I'm going to tell you.  Is the suspense killing you yet?

Chad has a 'strict' bed time of eight o'clock.  Usually around seven his brain starts to get foggy and he starts saying strange things... and talking to me while he's in the bathroom.  Never a good sign.  Why the insane bed time?  Because of his job.  Chad works as a janitor for the BYU-I campus.  His shift starts at four.  In the morning.  So naturally, him being a sleep lover and all, he tries to stock up.

But Thursday is a glorious day.  It's his day off.  Therefor, on Wednesday, we do not abide by the eight o'clock bedtime rule, no matter how tired we are.  Nay, we stayed up until ten last night.  And guess what?

We didn't even feel bad about it. (snicker)

But anyway, we always try to make the best of the hullabaloo.  What did we do this past Wednesday, you ask?  Well, I'll show you!

A tent.  Yes.  Held up with educational text and the like.  We are smart people.

Chad and I built a tent, made some fudge, and watched a movie.  That was our celebration of the hullabaloo. Of course, Chad tried to fit our mattress inside the tent.  I felt like a little kid stealing my siblings chocolate moneys when I told him that it just wouldn't work...

The mattress was omitted and the tent was smashing.  Even if we crouched a little bit.

He's very focused, isn't he?  Probably doing homework until the fudge is done.

Orrrrrr NOT! (Note the sock.  Halfway off.  Not sure why he prefers that.  Why not off?  Or on?  Is he self conscious about his feet?  Or does he like the feel of it better?  Not sure.)

But honestly, adoring fans, I feel like a kid on December 26th.  You know what that feeling is?

What the heck do I do now?

And that's when I decided the best course of action would be to post on the blog.  Instead of do dishes immediately.  Let's face it, when you open up presents on Christmas, the last think you want to do is take down the tree.  Well that's just it.  I'm going to leave our tree up for another hour or so.  And then wash the tree... Dishes.  And then probably...

Wallow in self pity.

I. Just. Don't. Know.

Happy belated Wednesday, fervent followers!

It was the onions.

I had no idea that onions had such a horrible effect on me.  Not eating them, of course.  Cutting them.  Even before I cut the onions I was feeling teary eyed.  Seriously.  Days before.

Okay, maybe it's not the onions.  But whatever it is, it's got me spouting all sorts of... "emotions"... everywhere.  Crying seems to be the go-to.  But why?  I. Don't. Know.

A few days ago I cried because I cut my finger.  Because it hurt?  No.  I couldn't feel a thing.  More or less because I suppose I felt rather sheepish.  Chad never cuts his finger.  So I laid in bed and made a fool out of my sheepish self.  Cry, cry, cry.  I sucked it up eventually.  But Chad still won't let me around any sharp objects...

Then came Sunday.  Things were going pretty well, I suppose.  Then I got ready for church.  The dress I had but on was ever so slightly too short.  Oh, it's fine! I said. It's just getting caught! My faulty attempts to pull it down ended with me in our room, looking through my closet, still holding tight to my cool.

I put tights on: Run.

It's fine. I didn't really want to wear them anyway. And I put them away. I opted for a completely different outfit.  Complete with a white shirt. Problem is, I don't own any white tank tops.  Needless to say, I looked a tad silly with a black one, and it proved to be too much when even Chad noticed.

"I can see through your shirt a little bit."

I threw myself on the bed, and do you know what I did?  Cried.  Go without me!  I pleaded, as if my will to live had all but been swiped out from under me.

I know what you're wondering. Did Alex find an outfit?!  Well, yes.  I did.

Moral of the story?  I'm not really sure.  Perhaps it has to do with us all needed a good cry every 24 hours.  Perhaps there isn't one.  Either way, my husband rules.  Know why?  He didn't laugh at all until I was DONE crying.  At that point, I'd realize how ridiculous I was being and laugh along.

Anyway, thought I'd share that little nugget with you.  Until further notice, I'd stay away from onions.  Don't even think about them..

Onions.

I Was Sleeping, And Then I Woke Up...

There you have it. My day so far.  I know you've all been dying of curiosity.  I can hear it now.  Your brains humming to the tune of "what is Alex doing RIGHT THIS SECOND." Just kidding.  But if that just so happens to be what's going on inside your brain, that's it. I woke up.  I sat on the couch.  I ate some saltine toffee.  And I opened my computer.  The end.  The mystery is a mystery no more.

Chad and I had a pretty great weekend.  Excuse me while I try to remember it.

Ah, yes. Saturday, we ran errands, pretty much.  Grocery shopping. Yadda yadda. BUT, we also had a pillow fight.  I won.  We had been using the little square pillows on the couch, and Chad thought it would be a good idea to throw me on the bed and walk away, as if that would silence my reign of terror.  Absolutely not.  Was he unaware that there was bigger and badder ammo on our bed?  Silly Chad.  He wont made THAT mistake again... soon.  But yes, I won.  Big time.

Then I got a big boo boo on my finger later that night, and we didn't have and band-aids!  Chad, without question or needing to be asked, grabbed his keys and got in the car and went and bought a first aid kit, complete with Kit-Kats.  Could he be any cooler?!  I don't think so.  I daresay I like my husband.

Then Sunday came around.  Church was awesome.  We love our new ward.  Chad is making friends faster than me though.  You know how I know? Because.  Yesterday, we went to drive Julia home, (that part comes later) and he waved at a guy.  But he didn't just wave.  He did the "nod".  And you know what?  The guy waved back.  Also complete with the "nod".  Seriously, best friends if I ever saw it.  How can  this come from the guy that said four words to me the first time we went out?!  It's not not okay.  I think maybe I'll stop talking.  Maybe you catch more flies that way, if you catch my drift.  Only I don't like flies...

Anyway, we came home and started cooking a delicious spaghetti dinner!  We invited Chad's sister Julia over for the evening, and it was pretty much going to be awesome.  We also enjoyed my bread sticks, which were delicious on top and so so on the bottom.  I pretended to like them though.  Just so everybody else would pretend they liked them.

We got to Skype the Eddington fam fam!  We all seemed to enjoy eachother's e-company.  Especially papa Eddington, when the stories involved his son... and gas.

Then Chad and I started yawning.  Julia was laughing at us.

And so we talked and talked and then we all got in the car to take Julia home.  The "nod" occurred.  We dropped Julia off and went home and Chad ate cocoa puffs.  He's coo coo, you know.

That was our weekend.  Riveting, I know.  If you want a piece of the action, come move in for the small price of only seven hundred dollars a month! I know it's more than we pay per month, but you get furniture.  And food.  And a room to yourself. I don't even get that!  Plus, we'll even give you the nice comfy floor to sleep on.  Best deal in town.  This is the only place you get to live with awesome itself.

Anyway.  I'm going to go eat some more saltine toffee.

Okay, bye.

Ahh, Wedded Bliss!

What more can I say?  The dishwasher exploded, I nearly caught the apartment on fire, and I should be doing dishes.  Welcome to the Eddington family!  No, really though.  It's rather fantastic.  Our family, I mean.  We're thinking of making shirts.  So you, the person I just welcomed to our family... I'm going to need your shirt size... And some new dish detergent...

Twelve days into marriage and it's only getting better!  My stupidity average is blasting through the roof, as you probably gathered from the previous paragraph.  It's not my fault they make the knobs on stove tops and their corresponding burner different depending on the brand.  How was I supposed to know I couldn't turn on a burner with my eyes closed?  Needless to say, it wasn't my fault when a whole bottle of vegetable oil made its way into every nook and cranny of our stove top.  Not my fault, I say.  Chad was wise enough to keep me at bay once the oopsie was discovered.  Then he promptly made a new rule: NO PUTTING THINGS ON THE BURNERS.  If you haven't made this rule, you should.  Unless its a pan of course.  Maybe the rule should read, "Don't put full containers of vegetable oil on the burners, whether or not you intend to turn that burner on, because odds are it will get turned on."  That makes much more sense. But super Chad came to the rescue and salvaged ALL of the oil. Not some. ALL.  You may wallow in jealousy if it floats your boat.  

The oil is now safely stowed away in a pretty little tupperware in our pantry.  Safe and sound.  No where near the burners.... Or me.

Well, world, that's our first post.  I will continue this epic tale whenever inspiration strikes...

Or whenever my husband goes to the library again...