One year older, and wiser too!

I had a wonderful, perfect birthday this year and was serenaded by Phoebe's "happy birthday cake" songs and received lots of slobbery kisses from my Jules. BD even arranged for Michelle and Ryan to watch the kids while we had a nice dinner out. Friends dropped off treats and flowers and I had a few fun cards in the mail. I talked to my family both near and far. By some stroke of luck I scored gift certificates to pamper myself head to toe. I'm a tad more wrinkly, have a few more gray hairs, stretch marks in all the right spots, and up a few sizes, but my arms are FULL of love. Happy Birthday to MWAH, through the rest of the month because I don't believe in limiting birthday's to just one day :).
xoxo

It's a TEN

A blog worthy milestone: The Bradlee Duncan's celebrated 10 years of marriage this month. Here's the thing about marriage (mawage...). You can never predict what problems you will face as newly wedded and blissed out on love. And the problems you do inevitably face as a couple, as a family, and as a deeply flawed human being, are never what you think they will be. At our ten year mark I'm not going to write that I'm grateful for the challenges we have faced, even though I might admit that sentiment in an honest conversation with a friend. That particular colloquialism has the tendency to sound trite. Because those challenges are real, are hard, it hurts, and we are equally human. I will say that marriage continues to be a refining process for both of us and if there is one thing I know for certain, it is we are yoked in this partnership equally together. I'm often amazed at where his strengths pick up where I'm lacking and vice versa. Ultimately I'm grateful for his easy temperament and passion for life. He's thoughtful and the true romantic in our relationship. He's my confidant and sounding board. My #1 fan. He sticks his long bony cold freezing feet on me. every. single. night. But you know what? He's still the one.

With two young babies and newly house poor it wasn't in the cards for extravagant gift giving or vacationing this year. Brad took the day off of work which was absolute heaven for me. We had lunch at our favorite little cafe in the avenues just like we did after our temple ceremony and just like we do every year on our anniversary. We hiked Ensign Peak. We had take-out pizza for dinner. We played with our kids with the purpose of really enjoying them. It was a right perfect day indeed.

Happy Anniversary my love. I love us.

Autumn Comes

Outside
Feels like autumn, damp and crisp
Rosy on my nose
Sunday walks with my kin in tow
Inside
Smells like autumn, pumpkin bread wisp
Socks covered on toes
A perfect eve tied with a bow

My summer vacation

Babyless. At the grocery store. International Isle. Walk reeeeeeeally slow. Bam! Instant vacation.

My life is crazy and good: a short rant about stuff

Hi blog! You're looking a little outdated, but I'm going to fix that ASAP. A few things. The last few months have been a whirlwind. Prego. Giant prego. Plus toddler. Packing. Moving. New house. Yay! Birthdays. Unpacking. Labor. Contractions. Never ending. Toddler plus stairs equals anxiety. LABOR. New baby. A boy! We luf him. Unpacking. Burping. Nursing. Kissing owies. So. Much. Poop. Not sleeping. Etc.
I'm working so hard to get caught up on all the fun that's been going on around here. I have draft posts by the millions just waiting for the perfect nap time when both babies are asleep. Yeah, that never happens. So it might take me a while to get caught up. I post things in chronological order, because of OCD, so if you're my mom and wondering why you can't see anything new...scroll down. Love you, my bloggie blog.
Oh. And one more thing. I don't wear makeup anymore. Thought you should know.

Just because: This is what Bee did when I said "show me your happy face!" Her hands are very happy everyone.

Taking it all in

Truthfully, I have so much I should be doing right now. A million little things that are beckoning me to tidy, sort, box, wipe, repeat. My little Bee is down for an afternoon nap and my house is quiet and still. Her little messes are scattered in every room and today they will stay there until I can find the energy to change it. I can't help but think that in just 2 months my afternoons will be entirely different. I'm nervous about this second little babe coming into our lives. And yet everyday I am becoming more and more pregnant and ready to love him on the outside. I pray that we can all adjust with some amount of grace.
The next several weeks are going to be busy and emotional for me and I'm bracing myself by hiding lots of chocolate about. Just in case. With all the good that is happening in our lives, there is also a certain bitter sweetness that overcomes my emotions daily. With such a big round belly in front it's hard to balance the wonderful new beginnings that await us and the sadness of creating a past that is still very much our present. I am nearly boiling over with gratitude for my many blessings.
Phoebe is becoming really pretty good on her feet these days, toddling around. It amazes me because her legs seem so skinny, I don't know how she holds the rest of her upright without snapping. We have plenty of tumbles, trips, and falls everyday. Literally, I want to wrap her in bubble wrap. She loves to walk holding my finger from room to room. Yes, it takes about 1.2 million times longer to get around the house this way. But my heart nearly explodes with pure joy when I see her eagerly reach for my hand all overly excited about the adventures awaiting us on the way from the bathroom to the kitchen. Oh! My heart. I'm trying to channel this exact kind of excitement about the next chapter for our family. Thank you, Bee.

These pictures have nothing to do with this post really, but still kind of cute. xo

Thirty-ONE-derful

Today I'm celebrating Thirty-ONE-derful years of life. I have a feeling this year will be wonderful! My thirties have not disappointed me even for a minute. I truly feel that I am becoming the real me more and more every day. 

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I woke up to the sounds of a wonderful baby babbling mumumumumum from the next room. This baby. My oh my. This baby, who loves to squish mandarin oranges in her hands and rub the pulp through her hair. This baby, who I can still nurse to sleep each night while I tickle her face. This baby, who flashes a crooked little grin and somehow brings my world back into focus. This baby, who crawls to my feet and climbs up my leg and looks up at me with the biggest bluest eyes I ever did see. This baby, who loves to take a bath with mom and splash like only a champion bath-splasher could.

I woke up to the kick, flip, flop of a wonderful baby boy dancing in my belly. This baby. My oh my. This baby, who sometimes I forget is even in there until I walk past a mirror and gasp. This baby, who is already loved endlessly will forever go down as the biggest surprise of my life. This baby, who will be here in another minute if I just blink my eye. This baby, who can wiggle and jiggle inside me like only a champion wiggle-and-jiggler could.

I woke up to sounds of plates clinking in the kitchen where a wonderful man was prepping my favorite breakfast of avocado toast. This man. My oh my. This man, who loves me even though I'm chubby. This man, who gives the best foot rubs in the greater 48. This man, who works hard to support this family we have sprouted together. This man, who is prayerful and deliberate and thoughtful about the way he goes about his life. This man, who will kneel at the tub and pour warm water down my back like only a champion water-pourer could.

So you see, this day was wonderful before I even got out of bed. After a morning nap Bee and I ventured on a brisk wintry walk while the sun was shining and warm with our besties. We stayed for corn dogs and lemonade and Bee watched with great envy as Leah ran circles about the place. She must have known it was my birthday because that sweet little Bee of mine took an unprecedented 3 hour nap that afternoon. What a gift! When daddy got home he scooped us up and out the door for dinner, just the 3 of us. It was a near perfect, wonderful day.
Happy Thirty-ONE-derful to me. Thank you, friends and family, for all the love sent in texts, phone calls, emails, gifts, cards, and otherwise. How wonderful you are to me.

The Story of a Surprise Pregnancy

One evening last October I wrote the following in my (other) journal:

“Tonight after [Phoebe’s] bath we nursed and she snuggled with me in the rocker. I sang and hummed "Teach Me to Walk in the Light" over and over and over. It's our favorite lullaby. Tonight she hummed along with me, making soft cooing noises through her binky. She was tucked into the crook of my arm and nuzzled against my chest. She loves to hold my fingers as she falls to sleep. As her eyes were getting heavier and heavier her grasp became tighter and tighter. Having a baby fall asleep in your arms is the greatest honor, it says: it is safe here and I trust you. The feeling came over me that I will have more children. I don't know how or when, but it doesn't matter tonight. I am simply grateful to know that I may have the chance to rock another baby. The thought makes me happy beyond belief. I am one blessed momma.”

In other words, I was oblivious to what Heavenly Father was trying to help me understand that night. It was still nearly two weeks later when I finally clued in to the signs my body was giving me and discovered that I was 2 months pregnant! It was the most unexpected happy surprise of my life. I’m sure any mother who has longed for or waited for children will agree with me when I say there are no accidents.
Yes, there were clues. I had started to notice that while breastfeeding Phoebe I would often feel nauseated. Weird, certainly. But hormones, ya know? I was only 3 months postpartum after all. Naturally, everything in our house was still being blamed on hormones.
Typically I use Bee's nap time to conquer quiet jobs around the house, like folding clothes or eating M&M's. One day I walked into my bedroom, looked longingly at my bed and decided to lay down for a quick rest. Only, I fell into a deep deep sleep and awoke dazed and confused by Phoebe's crying in the next room. After several days of this I started to think I was becoming extremely lazy. Unless. 
Our niece Ellie turned the grand ole age of 3 and her momma threw a darling little birthday party for her, equipped with a yummy dessert table chockablock full of naughty things I would normally devour at one such celebration. But that night, I wasn't even remotely tempted by any of those treats. What? Who? Impostor! So that had me thinking. 
I scanned the calendar events on my iPad searching for little signs that might help this magical mystery tour along. BD went out of town, here. DeeDee and I talked about this and that right around, then. I counted back using the very scientific method of my fingers. I scratched my head some more. And started to wonder.
The only way to put this nonsense to rest was to actually take a test. I spent the weekend waiting for an opportune time to sneak away to the pharmacy alone. I decided not to breathe a word of my delusions to BD because after years of negative pregnancy tests, why open a door that might not need opening? No such occasion presented itself. In the meantime more nausea, more tiredness, more food repulsions. And..I knew.
On a brisk fall Monday morning after BD had kissed us goodbye, I strapped Bee into her car-seat announcing Adventure! and drove straight to the pharmacy. I cried the whole way there. Because I knew. I cried the whole way home. Because I knew. I put Bee down for a nap and hunkered into the bathroom. I bought several tests of varying brands, because that's what you do. I read the instructions meticulously even though it was highly unnecessary and got straight to work. The paper says to wait at least 2 minutes before reading the results. Well, I'm here to say that's a long 2 minutes. 
Only it didn't take longer than 3 seconds for that second little line to appear. I stood over the sink staring at this positive home pregnancy test in my hand. Shock, awe, and wonder rushed through my veins. I was finally having that bathroom moment where suddenly the world teeters on its axis and you feel like you've been let-in on the greatest secret of all time. Only you and God and that baby know. Clutching my mushy postpartum stomach I took an exasperated breath and laughed out loud through happy tears.
I was terribly confused. For one, we didn't think I could ever get pregnant on my own. Birth control was far off my radar, and honestly, so was baby making (ha!). I mean, it was SO hard to achieve a single pregnancy with Phoebe. We were elated that IVF was an option for us and it had worked once! BD and I had just barely had a conversation about how much and how fast we wanted to save money for the inevitable next round of IVF. For two, I was exclusively breastfeeding and most women don't even...sigh. The short if it; I'm happy to say that I am not most women!
Then there was the business of sharing this wonderful (and shocking, and scary) news with my baby daddy, who was in the middle of his work day, nestled in his cubicle, probably on the phone, completely oblivious to what is happening back home. This would be fun! I schemed and schemed but my resources were limited and so was my energy (duh! because I am pregnant!). I gathered the tests, a sharpie, and a clean diaper. 
BD's normal routine when getting home from work included swooping Bee up for millions of hugs and kisses and holy cow momma! She has grown an inch today! We have the cutest baby in the world! kind of nonsense. He changes her diaper while I finish dinner (and sometimes by "finish" I mean preheating the oven, and by "dinner" I mean frozen pizza). When he arrived home that night Bee was still dozing in her afternoon nap. I had to keep my act together for another 25 minutes until she finally woke up. Torture. I asked BD to get her up and change her diaper and I would be in to feed her in just a minute. You must know, I am not cool under pressure so I awkwardly followed him to the nursery and watched him from the doorway like some sort of diaper changing stalker.
Eventually he discovered the diaper with a special message engraved in Sharpie from Bee saying "I'm going to be a big sister!" He screamed "WHAT?!" so loud it startled and scared Phoebe half to death. I came bursting into the room with a fist full of pregnancy tests jumbling my words together like a shake of Boogle. Phoebe was hysterical and confused and trying to roll off the changing table. Brad was attempting to keep her down and give me a hug all while trying not to faint. All three of us were crying. Looking back, it was a pretty great moment. One that would change the course of all our lives much sooner than this little family ever expected. Oh how wonderful life's surprises can truly be.

Summer Days of Yore

(Photo Credit: 3 yr old Anna Banana who knows how to work a smart phone like a pro)

This week I've been really missing summer morning walks with my lady friends. It's a bit too cold in the mornings to drag these little monkeys out of doors these days. But this summer we carved a rut to the H-Rock deep enough it should still be visible come spring. I'm convinced being outside every morning helped keep any postpartum blues at bay and I soaked up lots of sun and wonderful new mommy advice when I desperately needed it. Plus, even if I didn't accomplish much else other than diapering, feeding, and wiping up puke the rest of the day I still felt like I had done something for myself. Three cheers!

"Did I catch a niner in there?"

Fact: nine years ago today married my best friend. It's been a wild ride! Sometimes BD will snuggle against me and say "I love my life with you." It's such a small thing, but oh how I love to hear those simple words. The feeling is completely mutual. I thought it would be more romantic to meet him at a restaurant for dinner (instead of my usual frantic rush around the house) and he was so surprised that I showed up without Bee! (Thank our lucky stars for Aunt Jen!). I had such butterflies driving over to meet him. When I pulled up, he greeted me with a big kiss, flowers, and a small gift. I'll never forget it! It was fun to have a quiet dinner alone with him and no little fingers grabbing at water glasses and dropping napkins. We only talked about Bee most of the time. We got home in time for daddy to read Bee a bedtime story and indulge with some of our favorite treats. It was pretty perfect. For our 9th anniversary we did something totally hip and sexy and spontaneous and ... bought a couch. Happy AnniversaryMerryChristmasBirthdayfor5years to us!
I love you, my loverness ;)

Thoughts on Mommyhood and why you should never give up on this dream

I am a mom. I tell myself this everyday, lest I forget all the days before when I wasn't a mom. I haven't forgotten that longing. It pains me to know that so many others are still in that boat, bobbing up and down at sea and watching all the other mommy boats float past. I was stuck in those waters for many years wondering if I would sink or swim.

And people would say,
"I'll sell you my two-year old!"
"Enjoy your sleep while you can!"
"At least you can travel!"
People will say silly things in order to feel better about your situation. But what they are not telling you is that they would never, not in a million years even if it was legal, sell you their two-year old. They know that no amount of sleeping on your stomach in between soft white pima cotton sheets would ever make up for seeing your baby shoot you a big milky smile at 4 o'clock in the morning. No adventure to the farthest antipodes in search of the world's best gelato could replace the love you will have for your own child.

I am a mom. Among others things. But right now, it's my newest, bravest endeavor. And this job is so much harder than anything else I've ever done. This coming from someone who once went a whole year without eating a cheeseburger. My little one is currently in the next room not taking a nap for the second time today which means I've started and stopped this post about 77 times. She is a wild one, my girl. Sometimes I wonder how God can stuff a spirit this big into a body that small?

I often wonder what I would say to someone still bobbing.
Waiting.
Hoping.
Now that I'm in the mommy boat.
That is.
There is a reason you want this.
I remember thinking, Why is this so hard? Why do I need this so much? Why does it hurt so bad? I will tell you, there is a reason your heart is pricked every month you are not pregnant. There is a reason your uterus skips a beat when you drive past a park with an empty swing. And there is a reason it may feel like something, someone, is missing from your nest. And when the doctor/midwife/husband/birth-mother hands you that baby for the first time you will absolutely believe in miracles. You will feel bigger than the universe in that moment. The heart-break will begin to fade as pure love fills your soul and you will want to burst from the inside out. You will be proud of yourself for not giving up on this dream. You fought for her. For him. For them. No one can ever take that from you. It is MAGIC.
That is the reason you've wanted this so very very much.
Don't give up. It is that good.

I am her mom. I pray every day that she will grow slow so I can watch her with eyes wide open, but even still, it's all happening way too fast for this new momma. Some days she does not want to be put down, she wants me to hold her, with her bum resting on my forearm, head perched on my shoulder so she can see the world as I piddle around the house attempting to do one-handed jobs. Other days she wants me to swaddle her and rock her back and forth as she sleeps against my warm body. And when my back is aching and my arms are numb and I'm looking at the clock wondering when Daddy will be home, I think how can I deny her this? I've never wanted to be good at anything as much as I want to be good at this, at motherhood. The learning curve is steep and sometimes unforgiving, but it's amazing all the same. When our two gazes lock my heart stops and I get the sense that she can see me, right to my very core, and she knows I'm her momma and we are together again.

via Kill Bill v. II

Just trust me, there is a reason you want this. Someday you'll know what it is. Keep fighting, and I'll be praying for you, too. In the meantime, enjoy your sleep and travel the world!
P.S. I've got a gassy 2 month old infant for sale if anyone is interested... ;).

An Update on Tennis

With Coach Karl, who yes, insisted on his bended knee pose :)

My tennis buds. Every Thursday. We do this. We meet up with Coach Karl and laugh and talk and laugh and swing our rackets at balls flying at our noses. The tennis court has become this sacred ground where we come to vent about life, confess our challenges and swing our troubles away. Lately my giant pregnant body just chases the balls around about 3 seconds late in every direction. I look forward to it all week and it's become a real passion in my life. All 5 of us have either had a baby or become pregnant during this past year of playing with Coach Karl. We didn't even know Coach was of the magical baby making variety when we signed up! What good fortune. Oh the things Karl has heard out on that court! To say he's been thoroughly prepped for marriage and babies and the whole nine yards is probably an understatement. Also, we are very good at offering him our unsolicited dating advice :). It'll be a little sad when this baby comes and I'll need to take a few weeks off from tennis. But we're all pumped to play together this summer (with my NEW shiny racket that I scored for Mothers Day). Deedee and I will especially be happy to play without our bellies in the way! And when Kim has her baby this fall, all 5 of us will have had babies on Karl's watch. It's so fun.

Deedee, Jane, Kim, Bethany, Moi

I'll probably regret posting these pictures of myself at 39 weeks pregnant after 90 minutes of playing tennis, but, whatevs. It's all part of the fun. We really need to get ourselves some matching skorts and visors to up our game, don't ya think?

The Macaron Class

The Macaron. Pronounced: mah-kah,rhon, and if you can manage the French nasally sound at the end, more power to you. Not to be confused with a Macaroon, go ahead and say it like an American and really add emphasis the rooooon. The little French Macaron is ever so popular these days. People swoon over these little almond flavored sandwich cookies. Confession: I'm not really one of them. They are cute, but I'm not sure their cuteness can make up for 1) their lack of deliciousness, and 2) the labor intensive process of making them, and 3) they cost about $4 a pop. Wha???

For my birthday Brook took me to a Macaron class hosted by her cooking group. Kathryn Gordon, New York pastry chef and author of the book Les Petits Macarons was there for an instructional demonstration on making macarons. It was totally awesome to see her at work. But I came away from the night even more intimidated about those little French Confections than ever before. Because as a professional pastry chef, who has literally written the book on macarons, even Kathryn Gordan was able to mess them up right in front of us. She was still trying to tweak her recipes enough for high altitude variations. Golly, for only containing 4 ingredients, there is about 4 thousand ways to royally screw up a macaron. And every pastry chef in the world has an opinion on the right and wrong way to make a macaron. The history is pretty fascinating actually.

Still, it was awesome to meet her and get my book signed. Someday I'm going to attempt them at home. Someday! Thanks Brookie Cookie!

A Girly Girls Weekend

I've just spent a most cozy and snowy weekend at Sundance with my girlfriends. We mostly huddled around the fire and dished about babies and botox and blogging. Hello 30. We stayed in our pajamas. We finally remembered the name of that one prehistoric Will Smith rap song. Impressive. We shopped some. We slept some. We confided one with another. I ate a chocolate donut. It was delightfully relaxing indeed. I'm not supposed to, but I will tell you anyway, that at least one of us waded naked into Deer Creek, up to the chin, at dusk, and with snow on the ground mind you, all for a dare of $35. I won't say who, but she is mommy to my absolute favorite little toe-heads, one with the most adorable lisp your ears will ever hear, and another who calls me Jenny with so much sincere enthusiasm that I've had no choice but to adopt my new name. Turning 30 will not slow (her) us down. Hugs and kisses to all who came and made it a memory.

September

Oh September. That was awful fast of you. And yet, your days were the longest I may have ever lived. Tick. Tock. Today then tomorrow. I remember thinking, is it still only Wednesday today? It was. Everything in limbo. Not quite summer, not yet fall. But now that you're gone, in the blink of an eye, I wonder where you went. Will I remember every silent prayer? All month long we hoped, we wished, we dreamed, the Mr. and me together. I wonder. Did you even happen at all? You did. I know now. How much difference a year makes, a month, a day even. In September.

Some habits never die

Circa 2001? Note: Zigzag hair part, metallic "puffy" jean jacket, keyboard/monitor, baby face

This morning I answered my office phone and habitually announced "NetDocuments, this is Gina."
Then, I died.
Because I don't work at NetDocuments. In fact it's been over 7 years since I worked there. People, I do this ALL THE TIME. Even though I've worked other jobs in between, it's always "NetDocuments" that rolls off my tongue. Luckily this time me and the caller had a good hardy chuckle about my innocent slip before we moved on to other business. People are nice.
I'll never forget my first real job, working for my future father-in-law, studying for college (or, writing my missionary), switching shifts with Linds, watching "Elimidate" with my bff Ali during lunch hour, and generally just trying to keep my act together post high school, pre real world. That job taught me invaluable life lessons and skills that prepared me, in some way, for all the jobs I've had since. No wonder it's still ingrained. Sacred ground, that front desk.

Photo credit: courtesy of Alan Landes, current Director of QA for ND, who pulled this gem from the archives earlier this year.

Evolution of a Wedding Cake

My first wedding cake, so it were. The fact that it didn't fall apart during transport + tasted pretty good + made the bride smile all contributed to a big moment for this amateur hack baker. When my darling 12 year old niece Maddy saw the cake she said "Brook is going to be so proud of Gina for making that." Love her. During the reception my aunt Polly came up to me with fork in hand, cake in mouth, and pointed at the slice on her plate. "You know what you are? A perfectionist!" I laughed out loud. If only to avoid crying. And now I can't decide if she's right or way way wrong. After all of the self-induced stress and nerves and frosting taste-testing I didn't think I would ever eat cake again. And yet. I woke up the next morning and ate wedding cake for breakfast.

Hit the road, Jack

via

• Summerness is well under tow / my list is shrinking just as the days
• Oh boy, this week has been busy / Oh girl, next week looks busier
• You must know I love it when / my old boss is back in town
• Lyrics on repeat / streets are uneven when you are down
• Today is my Grandma R's birthday / I miss her so much it hurts
• BD is a cyclist / masquerading as a runner for the weekend
• My tennis game is seeing improvement / am so happy about it
• On the other hand / my piano practicing has taken a huge hit
• Root beer popsicles / are keeping this girl nourished happy
• Did you know / most of the world thinks root beer is disgusting?
• I have the travel bug / also known as running from my problems
• Am scared out-of-my-mind / as to what the rest of this year holds
• But this weekend / I'm excited to road trip with some cool cats
• Last weekend / I made a strawberry-rhubarb pie from scratch
• Further evidence that I am becoming my mother / it's not so bad

Happy Friday!

29 going on 80 and other holiday weekend highlights

I'm not joking when I say we packed our Fourth of July weekend pretty solid. It caused my body to ache all over from the intense amount of fun we had. BBQ at mom's. Dinner with the Duncan's. Bike races. Hayley and Jody's engagement photos. Patriotic choir performances. More family togetherness. More eating. More fun. More fireworks. More fun I tell you!

BD's bubble-blowing cheer section

My boss passed me his tickets to The Stadium of Fire last minute and we couldn't turn them down, being that we're all about fun. Country music and fireworks in your home town is as patriotic as it gets. I'm hesitant to admit that we did wear ear-plugs and had every intention of leaving before the fireworks ended if it were not for being stuck in the middle of a very long row. We didn't want to be those people. You know. So we took one for the team and stuck it out through all the fun. Because we are 29 going on 30, not 80.

On the way home we had a lengthy discussion about whether having kids makes you more fun. I'm not sure what the consensus was, because I fell asleep.

Summerness

This summer would usually be all about a big trip with my family off sailing somewhere fabulously exotic. But life doesn't always turn out as planned (newsflash! sponsored by me), so we're rolling with it. We've been pouring our pennies into other adventures equally exciting and scary but not nearly as scenic or relaxing. Even though we're sticking close to home I haven't given up on summer fun completely. My bucket list is growing fast; time to put the Go/Make/Try/Learn/Do of summerness into action.* It already feels like the warm days are fleeting, doesn't it? I figure if I check off even 1/4 of these things come September it will have been the most fantastic summer ever. 

Summerness 2011

• Try a new flavor of shaved ice/beyond coconut/really, you can do it!
• Take a day off of work, and do nothing
• Make homemade strawberry ice cream
• Sit and relax by the pool at least three times/don't be intimidated by bikini bodies
• Enjoy a campfire up the canyon
• Roast marshmallows and of course make s'mores
• Play bocce ball/win
• H-Rock walks every mornin
• Take a day trip to Eden, visit the Trappist Monastery
• Host a Sunday Brunch
• Take a cooking class
• Spend an entire weekend in Park City
• Try a new restaurant, or five
• Eat outside as much as possible
• Make homemade salsa/eat the whole bowl
• Paint the bedrooms/or hire someone to do it for you
• Eat squeaky cheese
• Get a little tiny bit tan/but never sun burned
• Try wearing hats more?
• Learn two new pieces on the piano/practice the piano
• Perfect the Swiss-meringue buttercream
• Write postcards from Salt Lake to friends who live elsewhere
• Take a drive to Oakley and stop for onion rings at the Road Island Diner
• Jump in a mountain lake/clothing optional
• Go on a long bike ride with BD
• Have a Sunday picnic in the park
• Wear skirts to work
• Read/listen to Water for Elephants 
• Splurge on good sushi
• Drive out to the Spiral Jetty
  
• Walk to church
• Throw a frisbee 
• Go to an outdoor concert or play
• Make 600 mini wedding cupcakes with Brook
• Play tennis/make Coach proud!
• See the movie "Super 8" in a theater
• Shop at the farmers market
• Go camping or backpacking/don't forget Advil PM
• Go hiking in Big Cottonwood Canyon
• Bake chocolate chip cookies/eat cookie dough
• Organize your recipe collection into three-ringed binders
• Sleep with the windows open
• Always have berries in your fridge
• Or watermelon
• Host a BBQ on the patio/eat a cheeseburger without guilt
• Find the most comfy pair of flip-flops and buy them
• Watch "Friday Night Lights" on Saturday mornings

 *I'm happy to report that since I started this list several weeks ago I've nibbled off at least eight chunks of summerness already. Life is beautiful. Especially when bullet-pointed.