The rules of snuggling...

Is there such a thing? Well, in my relationship there is. These snuggling rules were fabricated by my dear ol' husband, and he makes sure to enforce them with an iron fist. I'm not a snuggler. I'll be the first to admit it. I know this goes against the traits of my gender, but when I sleep, I like to sprawl...and I don't like anyone tangling up that process.  In all honesty, I was dreading having to share a bed with Graham in the months leading up to our marriage, because I'm selfish with my sleeping space, and Graham is a pretzel when he sleeps. He likes to twist his limbs around mine and get as intertwined as humanly possible. So imagine my surprise when I realized, upon marriage, that I actually like to snuggle whilst falling asleep. However, my husband, the expert snuggler, likes to inform me on a regular basis, that since I'm new to the snuggling game, I'm not too good at it...and it's up to him to train me.
Hence the rules...which are as follows:

Rule #1:  My head must be low enough to fit comfortably on his shoulder. If I'm too high up on my pillow, this creates an uncomfortable snuggling situation. I messed this one up last night (I usually do...which is why it's rule #1), and he promptly informed me..."you know, you really suck at snuggling." Ha. Good thing I appreciate his sarcasm!
Rule #2: He makes ALL of the snuggling rules...I have NO say.
Rule #3: I'm not allowed to talk once snuggling has commenced.
Rule #4: If my hair is wet...I have to caboose him (which means I snuggle up to his backside...instead of the other way around, which is our normal mode of snuggling).
Rule # 5: (the most annoying of the rules) He's allowed to twist his legs with mine. (I told you...he's a pretzel).

Hopefully these rules will assist me on my quest to become a successful snuggler. Good thing I have a lot of nights to perfect my snuggling techniques...and a good teacher (even if he is a little hard on me)!

Picture Update

My life is a constant succession of craziness, and as such, my blog has suffered. So...here is a quick update in pictures.

This little dude came to visit the girls a while ago. He was a tiny little thing.

This guy turned nineteen...and we celebrated. Can you tell that he LOVED all of the pictures that I was taking? He'll thank me one day for how annoying I am with the camera...just wait!

And, best of all, this little man...

Has been staying with us while his parents visit this place...

...and he's been doing this the whole time his parents have been gone.

Yes...Grant is *kind of* walking, and yes, I *kind of* used a dog bone as incentive to get him to walk. Whatever it takes, right? His mom is not too happy that she missed it, but hey...she got a weekend in Vegas so I don't feel TOO bad for her.

And meanwhile...I still love this guy (Who incidentally hates this picture, but I love it...so oh well!).

Epiphany

I've realized something recently and I'm not too sure how I feel about it.

Because I am finishing my student teaching this semester (Can I get a woot woot??), I was forced to take a leave of absence from my job. As such, I no longer have an income, and therefore can no longer afford rent. Luckily I have awesome parents who offered this awesome abode to my husband and me for the next 5 months:

Don't be jealous. Every day is a camping trip for me. Bring over your marshmallows and graham crackers folks and we'll have a s'more party!
So...enter stage left: the realization. I'm a married, educated, independent woman of twenty five, and I'm still so attached to my parents that I get mad when I pull up to their house and don't see my mom's car in the driveway. What the heck? She's supposed to be waiting for me in the kitchen to ask me how my day went, preferrably with a plate of warm cookies.
But to be fair...my parents ARE pretty cool. As evidenced by the RAD pictures below.

Oh so young!

Hahahaha...I love this picture. ha.

If they were yours, you would most likely be attached to them too. You want to know a little tidbit about my dad?
Check this out.
You want to know a little bit about my mom? Well, then read on...
Why is my mom cool you ask?
If you aksed my dad, he would say my mom is cool because she looks just as good when she wakes up in the morning as she did when she went to sleep (I, on the other hand, look the victim of a mugging...it's not pretty)
If you asked Graham, he would say my mom is cool because she laughs at his inappropriate jokes.
If you asked her grandkids, they would say Nana is cool because she makes chocolate chip cookies with them EVERY Sunday, gets them slurpees on a regular basis, gives them "fruit rollups" and "fruit snacks," lets them have sleepovers at her house, gives them ridiculous amounts of presents on their birthdays/Christmas, sneaks them ice cream/soda when their moms say no...(you get the point).
 If you asked her daughters, they would say because she's the most generous/talented/considerate/intelligent/beautiful/lovely woman EVER.
Yep. I love my mom. She's pretty dang amazing. I mean...check out these Christmas crafts she just "whipped" together the other day for her Relief Society Enrichment night. Seriously...just whipped 'em up in a few hours.

Here are a few reasons why I, specifically, love my mom.
* She gives advics like she's a flippin' guru or something. You can present my mom with any problem, and she will give you an answer. And not just any answer, the RIGHT answer...every time.
* She is giving...to a fault. She will sacrifice her own time/happiness to make people around her happy (I could learn from this since my natural inclination is to be selfish. Whoops!).
* She is proud of her children and brags about them all the time. It makes me feel more accomplished than I am.
* She's wonderwoman. No joke. She's one of those women that you want to hate who's house is always clean and decorated to perfection, who cooks a healthy dinner every night, who is creative and talented, and who looks good while doing it ALL. And yes, she was like this even when she had a house full of little ones! Believe me...I remember.
* She's a devoted, faithful woman who puts the gospel at the center of her life.

If she sounds amazing...it's because she is!
Now do you see why I get mad when she's not at home to greet me when I get off of work? You'd want her to be around too!

Bump it? I think not...

My students asked me today if I was wearing a bump it. For those of you who don't know what those horrible contaptions are...see below:

Disclaimer: my hair was NOT this big!

I informed them that no, I was not channeling my inner Snookie, and that the bump on my head was indeed my own. By the horrified look on my face, they felt the need to quickly reassure me that they loved my "diverse repertoire" of hair (their words, not mine)...and I decided to take that as a compliment. I was sufficiently pacified. I guess that's a wake up call for me to drastically lower the height of my hair. I just can't help it. I guess I should have been born in Texas, 'cuz I love me some big 'ol hair!

Psssh...I still don't think it's THAT big!

I Would do Anything for Love...

but I won't do that. Yes I'm quoting Meatloaf. Don't judge me.

Graham and I reached a pivotal moment in our relationship today, and I'm afraid I don't like the outcome. 

I spent quite some time painting my nails a delicious shade of chocolate brown today, only to come to the realization about 10 minutes after completion that I had to pee...REALLY bad. I think every girl has been in a similar predicament at one point in her life where she reaches this crossroads: relieve the bladder with the distinct possibility that you WILL mess up your nails, or don't (and we all know where the "don't" leads). So because I would rather deal with a smudged nail than wet drawers, I chose the former. But then I had a light bulb moment: Graham to the rescue! (I have a loving husband who would do ANYTHING for me right? Wrong!) I know you're cringing right now, but come on! I REALLY didn't want to mess up my nails. So I did the unthinkable and asked my husband to "assist" me in my wiping endeavors. I was totally kidding when I asked him (Honestly. Only part of me was serious), but I wanted to see how he would react. So I asked. He refused. Darn it! You see? A VERY pivotal moment. I realized that, in fact, my husband will do most anything for love, but unfortunately, he will not do that. 

Luckily I was able to complete the process with very minimal damage to my nails, and absolutely no damage to my husband's pride...so all was not lost!

USA is A-Okay

Life has hit fast forward in the last two weeks. I started my FINAL (yay!!) semester of student teaching last Tuesday, and my mind has been completely and absolutely filled with all things US history. I can't sleep at night or fully concentrate on any conversation because my mind is running with lessons, activities, debates, etc that could be implemented into my class. The stress is killing me, and as such, my treacherousness body has taken over. Those who know me are aware of the fact that when Whitney stresses, Whitney's health goes haywire. So, I wanted to take the time to complain about my woes, because I know you're all interested. Bear with me.

I recently got over a really crappy cold. That sucked, but only the annoying cough/phlegm lingers.

I started my very first day of teaching with a cold sore. Great, like 16 year old juniors need another reason to pick on their teacher (luckily mine seem to like me and have remained gratefully silent about the beast that is currently lurking on my lip).

To add to that, I also sprouted a pretty impressive zit. Let me tell ya, I'm a sight to see!

I got a blister on my foot, which led to me limping around on day two of teaching (I know this has nothing to do with stress...merely the effects of too-tight shoes, but I still wanted to complain about it).

I've had a bloody nose THREE times in the last week. While my husband insists that it is due to the crazy heat we've been experiencing, I prefer to overreact like I always do and assume that it is a serious neurological disorder that was caused by stress.

I know. My life is tough. But, despite these hardships, I am enthusiastically attempting to stay positive. It seems to be working (despite this decidedly whiny blog post, which I assure you, is only a temporary moment of weakness!). 

But seriously, it's hard to stay down when you're doing something you love, and I ABSOLUTELY LOVE teaching...especially US history. I'm like a patriotic cheerleader. My students probably think I'm crazy, weird because I get a little bit excited (that's an understatement) about the subject. I guess I just love my country, and I'm pretty proud of where we came from. I hope they get the message!

Also... I'm watching this tonight. Because I think it's imperative to remember.

Stay Gold...

It seems incomprehensible to me that a couple could celebrate FIFTY years of marriage. That just seems unattainable. Whenever people ask me how long Graham and I have been married, I feel pretty proud of the fact that I can respond, "for a little over a year now." That seems like such an accomplishment.
 A year? Dang we're good!
And yet, my aunt Michal and uncle Glenn just celebrated their golden 50 year wedding anniversary. What? Wow! They don't look old enough to be able to claim 50 years of wedded bliss, but the marriage certificate does not lie. Congrats to them! Here are some photos of the day...