{That one time} Baby Jaguar got Lost

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If you have a toddler, there’s a fairly good chance that you’ve seen Go Diego Go. If you have, you probably know who Baby Jaguar is. Despite the fact that Evelyn loves Winnie the Pooh and Frozen and Sleeping Beauty, she has a stuffed toy that she has deemed Baby Jaguar and he is her absolute favorite toy in the whole world.

He comes everywhere with us. I can’t help but wonder if he’s a bit like Woody from Toy Story though, because he keeps getting lost. So now, I would like to present to you:

That one time Baby Jaguar got Lost

–written from Baby Jaguar’s perspective—

It’s quite apparent that all the other toys are jealous of me. I get to play with everyone. Evelyn likes to keep stories together so generally Olaf and Sven and Ana and Elsa play at the same time or Pooh and Tigger and Eeyore and Piglet. Except for me that is. I play with everyone. Evelyn takes me everywhere. I’ve gotten to see way more of the outside world than any of the other toys have but that hasn’t always been a great thing. Like a couple of weeks ago…

Evelyn dragged me out the front door and the warmth of the sun felt wonderful on my synthetic fur. She settled into one side of the big red stroller, next to the slobbery one, but soon decided that she didn’t want to hold me anymore. It’s okay. I know it can be tiring to hold a toy all the time. So I got comfy in the bottom of the stroller. But we were going faster than we had ever before. I tried to relax but as soon as a got comfortable there was a bump and I hit my head. I slid from side to side and got tangled in coats and blankets. I felt my stuffing rolling around in my head.

After a while, I tried to peek out of the basket and see what was going on. I climbed out of a tangle of blankets and all I could see was grass and cars speeding by. As I attempted to get my bearings we hit a big bump and then, all the moving stopped. I went into default mode and stayed as still as possible, just in case there were any people around. But when I finally got up to look, I was all alone. Evelyn and the big red stroller and even the slobbery one were nowhere to be found.

The sidewalk was rough under my feet and a couple of times I snagged them attempting to catch up and find Evelyn. Finally I gave up and laid down and waited. And waited. And waited. People and cars passed me but no one ever stopped. I eventually closed my eyes and tried feel the sun’s warm blanket instead of the cold sadness in my lonely heart.

But then, someone picked me up.

It was Evelyn’s daddy. He grabbed me and swiftly jogged to his truck. He tossed me into the passenger’s seat and away we zoomed. Before I knew it, we were in some store and Evelyn’s daddy placed me right into her arms. She hugged me so tight, I felt my stuffing starting to squeeze out of my ears. She held me safely under her arm and we ran everywhere! Sometimes she set me down so she could try on hat or a climb a ladder but I didn’t mind. We were reunited at last!

We went into an aisle filled with bags of all different shapes and sizes. Evelyn tried out a lot of the bags. There were even some with wheels on them! Those were Evelyn’s favorites. She even gave me a ride in one of them. She laid me inside and zipped it up tight. I couldn’t see anything but I could tell we were going fast. It was so fun! Sometimes we stopped but we always started going again, faster than before. Until we didn’t. I heard Evelyn crying and then I heard nothing at all. We didn’t move for a very long time.

After a while, I unzipped a tiny spot in the bag and peeked out. All I could see were legs and shoes walking around. I didn’t dare attempt an escape, in case I was spotted. I stayed inside that dark bag for so long. Just praying that Evelyn would save me. It seemed like forever before someone unzipped the bag. And there was Evelyn’s daddy again!

“I found him!” He exclaimed.

I looked around but I couldn’t find Evelyn anywhere. Then I noticed that Evelyn’s daddy was talking into one of those glowing squares that Evelyn stares at sometimes. It has moving pictures but I’ve never really understood the appeal.

Just like before, Evelyn’s daddy threw me into his truck, but this time we didn’t go find Evelyn. I stayed in the truck for a long time. It was so sad and lonely. I didn’t think I’d ever see Evelyn ever again. It must have been days before I saw Evelyn’s daddy get back in the truck (well..maybe one day). We drove again for a little while and before I knew it, he was giving me back to Evelyn.

“Baby Jaguar!! I saved you!” She said.

She gave me another big hug. I think she was so happy, she’ll never lose me again. Right?

10 Weird New Year’s Superstitions


We all know that we want to give someone a kiss as the clock strikes midnight and the calendars roll over to January…but do you know why?

Snopes.com lists several New Year’s Superstitions and why people do them, but I’ve summarized them here for you. I’m so nice.

001 The Midnight Kiss

Kissing a loved one on midnight is not only a way to celebrate together, but it also ensures the affection between you will continue for the next 12 months. Failing to have that midnight kiss will start a year of coldness.

002 A Handsome Man will come a Knocking

The first person who comes into your house after the stroke of midnight will be reflective of the kind of year you’ll have. Naturally you’re gonna want that person to be hot..er uh..handsome.

“Ideally, he should be dark-haired, tall, and good-looking, and it would be even better if he came bearing certain small gifts such as a lump of coal, a silver coin, a bit of bread, a sprig of evergreen, and some salt.” Obvi.

Also, make sure your handsome fella is actually a fella. A woman would bring disaster on your household. It’s recommended that you aim a gun at them to ward them off lest they come into your house before a man does. You guys..I’m not making this up.

Likewise a blonde or redhead man simply will not do unless you want bad luck for the upcoming year.

“First footers must not be cross-eyed or have flat feet or eyebrows that meet in the middle.” Well that goes without saying.

Once your handsome man drops off his gifts he has to make his way through the house and leave through a different door. No one else can leave the house until the handsome man (also known as a first footer) enters. The first movement across the threshold of your home must be entering and not leaving. Which brings us to…

003 Nothing leaves the house

Like nothing…absolutely NOTHING can leave the house on New Years Day. Not even garbage. If you have deliveries to make, put them in the car before the stroke of midnight. Don’t even think about shaking out a rug or anything else for that matter.

The year must begin by something being added to the home before anything is subtracted from it. It is indicative of the year ahead of you.

Someone who is celebrating all alone could put a basket of treats on his front porch, right outside the door with a string tied to it and after midnight pull the basket in by the string, careful not to reach out and grab the basket.

004 Lucky Food

If you want luck in the new year, make sure black eyed peas and some kind of green something are on the menu. Other acceptable foods are pork, lentil soup (lentils look like coins which equal financial goodness. duh.) and sauerkraut (mainly because it goes well with pork apparently).

Stay far away from poultry of any kind. Birds scratch at the ground which symbolizes the eater scratching for money the whole rest of the year. Ain’t nobody got time for that.

005 Work

Do a little bit of work similar to your career on New Year’s day and be successful at it BUT DON’T do too much because that’s bad luck.

Also stay away from doing laundry because that means that someone close to you could wash away (i.e. die) in the coming months. And to be safe you probably should do the dishes either.

006 New Threads

Wear new clothes on Jan 1 to make it more likely that you’ll receive more new clothes in the coming year. Done and done.

007 Financial Luck

Don’t pay any debts or give out loans on new years day lest you want to be paying them all the year long.

008 Breaking something

Breaking anything encourages wreckage to be apart of your new year. No one wants wreckage. Oh and crying…not a good idea. Unless you want to be sad for the next 12 months.

009 Stock up

Go out and do all your grocery shopping TODAY! Any bare cupboards come January 1 will be a symbol of how they will look for the whole year.

010 Out with a bang

Once the clock strikes midnight, all the doors in the house must be opened to let the old year out. Also it’s important to be as loud as humanly possible to scare away the evil spirits…so..yeah.


It’s not to late. You can still run to the store for some black eyed peas and new clothes and take out all the garbage before midnight. But I hope you’ve found your handsome man already. Those can be hard to come by.


{That one time} My dad watched me set my arm on fire

I always looked up to my brother. He was the cool older guy with hot friends who was going to be a rock star. I took most of what he did and said as gospel. As a young teenager, I wanted him to think I was cool and I was prepared to do just about anything to earn that title.

You may remember the time my brother convinced me to get into a dryer and then promptly turned it on. You might think that I would have learned as child not to trust my brother’s suggestions. Ha. If only.

In this fun story, he wasn’t even there to see the outcome of his slyly incepted idea, but my dad was.

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We just finished an excellent week at church summer camp (some may recognize it as EFY) and John and I were sharing our experiences on the car ride home. Being in different age groups, we didn’t see much of each other but I was sure to tell everyone I met that my brother was the lead guitarist in the band that played at the talent show. (They weren’t quite as impressed as I had hoped.)

Our conversation turned to Wednesday pizza night. My story about the girl who shoved 13 Starbursts in her mouth wasn’t nearly as compelling as what John had to say, so I let him talk.

“Yeah, this one dude was showing us how you can set yourself on fire and it doesn’t even burn you.”

“What are you talking about? You can’t do that,” I argued, listening even more intently.

“Yes you can! I watched him do it, it was awesome! Someone drew a smiley face on his chest with hairspray and then he lit it on fire. Only the smiley face lit up and then he put out the fire with his arm before it could actually start burning him. But it reeked! The whole dorm smelled like burnt hair.

“How did it not burn him?” The wheels in my head had already started turning.

“It only burned through the hairspray. He put it out before it could get to his skin.”

We didn’t talk much more about it but I couldn’t get the idea out of my head. Weeks went by and I started school as a sophomore. Every so often I would remember what John had said about the burning hairspray. Once or twice, I even picked up the hairspray bottle and challenged it to a staring contest but I always set it back on the shelf before being brave enough to get the lighter.

One afternoon I was riding the bus home from school and witnessed some genius in the backseat nearly set his shirt on fire while playing with a lighter. A girl sitting across the aisle called him a playful string of slightly profane names, as only a high schooler could, and I, in a state of boredom, chimed in with my hairspray/fire anecdote.

“That would never work, you’d have burns after that,” replied the girl, undoubtedly annoyed that I was encroaching on her chance to be the future ‘Mrs. Shirt-Fire.’

“Yeah huh,” was my clever retort, “my brother saw somebody do it. On his chest!”

“Whatever. Have you ever done it?”

The question took me by surprise. I hadn’t done it. I sure had thought about it though. And for the rest of the ride home, I couldn’t get it out of my head.

By the time the bus made it to my stop I had developed a plan: I would go in the front door and set my backpack down in the entryway of our split-level home. I wasn’t even going to go down into my room in the event that the break in focus would make me lose my nerve. Then I’d head straight up the stairs, to the kitchen, grab the lighter and make a beeline for my parent’s bathroom where I’d use my mom’s hairspray and set my arm on fire. Then, before the fire had a chance to burn my skin, I would use my other hand to wipe out the flame. I played it out over and over again.

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A Toddler’s Trip to Target

Finally, Mom is getting me out of this dumb car seat. I hate this thing. Oh wait, is that a soggy cookie in there? Wait I wanted that. Wait Mom! Oo a rock! Stop Mom, stop walking, I want that rock.

“Rock. Rock. Rock.”

“Maybe we’ll get a rock on our way back out to the car. It’s cold, let’s get inside.”

I’m not cold. Mom’s crazy. I see a car. And another rock. And another car! Oh that’s a cart! I wanna ride in the cart. I better get to ride in that cart. Why are we walking past the carts? Does Mom not know that we need that cart immediately?! That one. I want THAT CART!

“Cart. Cart. Cart. Cart. Cart. CART!”

“Yes Evelyn, we’re getting a cart…should we get some popcorn?”

Popcorn?! Did she say POPCORN?! I need popcorn. I want the popcorn. I have to have the popcorn now. She said popcorn, I heard her, where is the popcorn? Why are we waiting? I want the popcorn. Oo that is a big bag of popcorn and I’m going to eat the whole thing by myself cause it’s mine. Popcorn.

“Copcorn? Nummy.”

I want to touch EVERYTHING but I’m stuck in this cart. Why did Mom put me in a cart?! I hate this cart! Oh necklace! So cute. I need to feel it. I should probably taste it too for good measure but I just can’t quite reach it. I really wish I could wipe some of my snot on it too. I need to suck on it. Mom keeps pushing me back into this dumb seat in the cart. I MUST BE FREE!!

Oo a necklace for my arm and Mom is letting me wear it. I love it! It’s the best thing I’ve ever seen in the whole world and I look so cute! I need more of them. I need to wear all of them! No way..Mom is giving me another one to wear! Mm I like these arm necklaces. I should always have these. These are my life.


Mmm nom nom nom popcorn.

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I have spent my whole life in this cart I need to get out! Maybe if I ask super nicely Mom will let me out.

“Push? Push? Push?”

“You want to help me push the cart?”



FREEDOM! I did promise to push the cart though so I better do that. This handle is perfect. I can even run. Look Mom, I’m running! Oh, Mom is still pushing. Well that’s not okay. I don’t need help. I can do this all by myself. I’ll just shove her legs out of the way and then I can…Is that a hat?

That hat is fabulous! I need that hat on immediately. The pink, no the purple hat. It’s not staying on my head, oh Mom is helping. Good. Oo and glasses, This look will not be complete without these glasses. I look so cute right now. Wait, Mom is taking the hat. Mom, that’s my hat, give it back! You have to give it back, that’s my hat. And my glasses, not my glasses! Those are MY GLASSES!! AHHHH!

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Oh a new hat. This hat is much more comfortable. And my heart glasses! I love my heart glasses! I’m the best looking person here. Time to go show off to my adoring fans. I’m gonna push this cart for Mom. She doesn’t do it very well. I push way faster than her.

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Water on the Windowsill

windowsill water

Have you ever seen Clue? At the end it gives you three alternate endings. That’s how I’m going to tell this story.

Let’s start off with a little background. Chris and my bed is up against a window looking over a beautiful view of the valley. We used to have our bed on a frame but we moved the frame into the guest bedroom to put our extra mattress on for when Chris’ family came to visit. So instead of having a headboard in between our bed and the windowsill we just have a big windowsill. It’s a pretty big windowsill so we always keep a glass of water (or two) on it for when we get thirsty in the heat of the middle of the night. (Yeah I know it’s December but I think we have the heat on too high or something because I always wake up in the middle of the night completely parched because of the heat.) And obviously we can’t get up and get water in the middle of the night because monsters. duh.

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SO last night we had two glasses of water sitting on  the windowsill above our bed, one from several nights ago that didn’t get drunk (drank? drinked?)…that no one drank (there we go).

Chris has to get up at 5:30AM (a whole hour before me). And I can tell that he’s jealous that I get to sleep a whole hour longer than him. So this morning he woke up in a fit of jealousy. “Why do I have to get up an hour earlier than she does?! How is this fair?!” He thought in that cute little head of his. That’s when the wheels started turning. “You know what, it’s not fair. She should wake up right now…with me.” And with that he dipped his fingers in one of the cups on the window sill and flicked some water on my face.But that didn’t do the trick. I’m a deeper sleeper than that. Well then he got frustrated at that point, and took it to the extreme. He picked up the cup in his fist full of rage and then he proceeded to pour it on my head. The water was very cold. I sprung out of bed, just as he wanted and yelled to first word that came to my head which just happened to be the ‘S’ word.


“That’s what you get for sleeping an hour later than me.” Then he got up, stormed out of the room and headed off to work.

That’s how it could have happened…

…But what about this?

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{That one time} Chris tried to pick up the remote with his butt

This is a story about how I married the most incredible man in the world. It’s called:



monday night header







And it goes a little something like this:

Nobody likes Mondays. This past Monday however, wasn’t especially bad. I went to work and school knowing that I didn’t really have anything to do and in a couple days I would be on Thanksgiving break. Looking forward to the free time I would have in the next couple days, and the stress I wouldn’t have, I was able to actually enjoy my Monday. I headed home from work at around 5pm to get started on dinner. I stopped by City Market to drop off our latest Redbox and pick up a new one. (My choice this time.) After standing in the cold for 10 minutes I narrowed it down to ‘Just Go With It’. I hadn’t even seen the previews but the synopsis sounded funny and it had Adam Sandler and Jennifer Anniston, both of whom I like, so I went for it.

At home I tossed the movie on the table/Chris’ desk since we no longer actually have a table, and went to the kitchen to start cooking turkey for our turkey tacos.

“I got a movie that you may or may not like,” I said as I walked in.

“I already know, you got a girl movie.”

“Just look up the trailer, it’s called just go with it.”

“I know what it’s called: Girl Movie, I’m looking it up right now.”

Chris thinks he’s soOOoo clever. But it did make me giggle a little bit. Check out the trailer he watched:

“It’s a romantic comedy,” Chris reiterates.

As if I needed any convincing since I was the one who picked out the movie. Back to the kitchen.

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