I really do regret that I don't blog more. Largely because I can't remember what happened in the 4 weeks since I blogged...but I'm pretty sure it was my life along with my family's and I didn't write it down. Alas. Alack. Alas and Alack. Well, at least I've got this week semi-ready to be documented.
The above picture was from a super fun tea party that the Leavitt ladies had for a pseudo baby shower for my sister-in-law who is uber pregnant with her 4th. It is a tiny little restaurant inside of an antique store. We ate scones and crust-less sandwiches off dainty china. The girls got boas, skirts, and chocolate cake. They kept doing a little cheer that went, "GIRL COUSINS ROCK!" and then they booty bump each other. I really, really want them to stop growing.
Abby got her hair cut and I think by this picture you can tell how she felt about it at first. I had a massive giggle fit in kind of a guilty/anxious way. I had flashbacks of the awful bowl haircut I had when I was a kid (sorry mom and donna, but it really was awful)and that I had carried on the cycle of abuse with my daughter. But it is really a lot cuter than this photo shows. You can see in the tea party picture that she is wearing it curly most of the time and she's gotten lots of compliments. In fact, she's gotten so many in the last few days that she enters a room with her hands on her hips, poses, and waits for the praise. I think she's warmed to it.
Have I mentioned that I love being primary president? Taking the oldest class of girls and boys to the temple is one of the moments that solidifies my love of the calling. These are fabulous, wonderful kids...unparalleled by any other primary kids. Granted, a car packed full of 10 year old boys pushed my willingness to magnify to the brink...but I did get quite an education from it. I now know 5 new Chuck Norris jokes, what a Texas wedgie is and that the only thing you'll find in a clean nose is fingerprints. Thank you boys. I don't know how I made it to adulthood without such pearls.
I've been doing Bikram yoga. You know the crazy yoga where you willingly go into a 105-115 degree room with 60% humidity for 90 minutes? You know the yoga that makes a room smell like booty and make you wish for death? So far, I can't get over the smell and the panic...but they promised me when I went in that it was "the first day of the rest of my life." I'll let you know.
Brandon started his new job and loves it. I mean loves it. I've never seen him this happy. And no, he is not working as a dancer in a nude male dance show (even though he totally could- he is a smokin' hot piece of man pie), but he is suing one! In serious legal hilarity, one of the dancers was shakin' his groove thing, slipped off the stage, and kicked a patron in the face. Seriously sexy, no? I can't help but get the chuckles. The best part? Brandon gets to go check the fellas out in person to see where the incident happened and to ask some questions. He's been saving his single dollar bills for the event (just kidding). I can't really make this blog into a family journal at this point, can I?
Other notables? I have a new nephew- Logan Chad Leavitt. We finished our front yard, we loved the feeling of satisfaction for about 20 minutes, and then it turned into a deep dissatisfaction with our back yard. I'm coming for you next!
Oh and Abby wrote me her first note all by herself! It says:
Jamie and Brandon. No dog or cat. Have 1 little girl. Have a cute back yard (punctuation added).
Cracks me up. She heard me fuming over the back yard so I believe that she wrote me this note to remind me of all I do have in my life and to "Get what I get and don't throw a fit." And what else do I need besides Brandon and 1 little girl?
