at thirty-one

Bruce loves a good salad with every meal but has a penchant for oreos and root beer floats. His neat freak habits have worsened with age but his love language is service. He works out religiously but hates to walk anywhere. He loves sports and Broadway. He is steady and consistent but embraces change. And though he maintains a healthy distance from anything involving drama, he is uber-protective of the ones he loves. Another year older, another year loved. Wifedom is lovely with you, B.



Today's track: These Words - Natasha Bedingfield

day one

Flying above Mexico City. An estimated 20-30 million people co-exist here. Or is it 25-35 million? There's a reason Bruce is the accountant.



I've been reading this. Used it as a futile attempt to block out the nervous wreck in the green scarf to my right whilst en route to Houston. I kind of love it, but I haven't finished it yet. When I finish, I'll let you know my thoughts. If you've read it, get in touch with me. Let's talk.



Arrival into Houston. Wow. Trees. Greenery. Space. Humidity. If you look closely, you might see the tiny bit of downtown in the distance. That would be the 4th largest city in The United States. What a difference zoning laws make.



Took this pic while I was driving 70 mph. Borrowed Pete's car (sorry, Pete). But not to worry, dude, because there were hardly any cars on the road for me to side swipe. Sometimes I really love American suburbia.



Timed lights and signage that makes sense. America is so beautiful.



Came to see this darling baby girl. I already miss her and her mama.













I stayed with Patti and Art the first night. This is their media room. It is the first thing built whenever they move into a new house. In Bruce's words, this room is "tizzzzziiiiiight." I covet this room with every fiber of my being.



The bizarre marriage proposal. It was for real, guys. It was for real. I know, because I was there and sat privy to the whole thing. He sells pest control. She loves to sing. Patti provided costumes... believe me. I had many, many questions. But from the looks of it, they're a match made in BYU-Provo heaven. I liked how she kept placing her hand on the side of his face in such a way that makes me think she's only seen this in movies.



Can twelve-year-olds get married?



Fave part: I made Pete watch, too. If you know Pete, you will understand the obvious horror he felt at having to sit through this. This, my friends, is for all those times he taught my kids about blue darts and defecating in the front yard. Revenge is sweet.



And then I guess Art got inspired, because he jumped up shortly afterward to give us his lovely rendition of "Unchained Melody" with Patti as a prop. These guys are for real also.





Cute, cute Erica. This is a family of professionals. Like every single one sings. Beautifully. Love them. Seriously love them.





Sweet Patti. There is no one like her. And I know this shirt makes me look pregnant, but I'm not. Trust me.



Okay, more later. Travelogging is exhausting. Do you guys even care? I'm going to pretend you said yes.



Today's track: Unchained Melody - Righteous Brothers

round trip

I took this photo while flying over Mexico City.

I don't feel like uploading all my pictures tonight, but I did want my mother to know I have arrived back home to Mexico in one piece. I spent the last five days in hot-as-all-get-out-Houston, but the moments spent with friends and family were sublime, memorable and hilarious. I held a brand new baby, witnessed a bizarre marriage proposal, ate thai food - twice, watched two seconds of fireworks and miraculously packed everything I had bought while in the States into a suitcase that weighed 48 pounds upon check-in. (Miraculous, I tell you). Bruce and the kids survived the weekend without me, and as there were no visible cuts, bruises or missing appendages when I returned home, I'd say it was successful.

I boarded a Continental Express jet headed for Houston Thursday morning. Small airplanes make me marginally nervous and motion sick, but the lady across the aisle from me in 10C suffered from an apparently much more severe case. Flustered, breathy, and reeking of cigarette smoke, she tugged at her green scarf and bounced up and down in her seat. I wanted to lean over and tell her to get a grip. Though when she began crossing herself in the Catholic gesture multiple times in rapid and earnest succession as the plane began backing away from the gate, I silently wondered if perhaps I should offer a little prayer of my own.

On my flight home this afternoon, I was surrounded by an enthusiastic Baptist mission trip group from Kansas on their way to do good at a Mexico City orphanage. Apparently, stepping onto an airplane was a first-time experience for several. I thought then that perhaps a prayer would be an exceptionally wise and circumspect thing to do, considering the sheer irony of the tragedy if our plane of good and inexperienced people did happen to go down or be taken over by terrorist hijackers. I find that most tragedies are heavy laden with irony.

The best part of my flight today, however, was sitting next to a plump, blue-eyed girl named Jennilee. She sported perfect posture and cute little bangs that were swept off to one side. Her blonde hair was highlighted and curled and I couldn't help thinking how she would stick out like a sore, very American thumb in Mexico. She wore a jean skirt and white cardigan over a frilly camisole and carried a large, mustard yellow purse. When the plane took off, she carefully pulled out her Bible, a large journal with a pink and brown swirly pattern on the outside cover, and the book The Secret. When she wrote in her journal, I sneaked a peek (couldn't help myself) and read, "I am so thankful to be going to Mexico City to help these little children! God is good!"

I love traveling sans kids. Look at what I would have missed out on if I'd been too busy chasing M down the plane aisle.

another empty carton

Sigh. Shameful. I told Bruce that maybe it's all the chile and lime we eat here. You know, after you eat something spicy or salty, you need something sweet and soothing? He just smiled at me and patted my bum. "What was that?!?" I said. That better have been a love pat, because I do not - I repeat - I do NOT like it when people jiggle my fat.

bruce's mom, aka "tutu"

One time I called Pam and she had just finished jumping on her little trampoline. She keeps a little trampoline in her bedroom for when she's feeling down and needs a little pick-me-up. Coolest 54-year-old ever, right? I know. Doesn't look a day over 35.