Monday, April 28, 2014

Dear Minivan,

     In honor of our recent one-year anniversary, I thought I should write you this letter.  I must admit, at first I was not too keen on the idea of becoming a minivan lady at age 27.  But alas, Dave my super-practical side came to the conclusion that you would offer us more bang for our buck as a family vehicle.  Also, we fancied ourselves as roadtrippers, and what better way is there to road trip than with you?

     (Well, for one thing, this way):
     I digress.

     At the dealership, I tried to convince Dave to buy the sleek, black van, because I was sure that it would make me feel a little bit cooler.  You know, a little bit more "Maybe there's a famous rap artist in there" and a little less "That's definitely a soccer mom wearing yoga pants."  But apparently it didn't make sense to spend an extra thousand dollars only for black paint.  Lame. 
    
     Minivan, the real breakthrough for us came when I finally reminded myself, "Katy, you aren't losing cool points by getting this minivan.  You really weren't that cool to begin with.  Get over yourself."  And with that, I stepped into my space ship and drove off into the abyss.  The abyss = Sugar Land, obviously.

     Minivan, I'm sorry I never named you, but it was only because our relationship wasn't love at first sight.  Now I finally realize what you mean to our family.  You have taken us to Minnesota, Wisconsin, and Mississippi to visit loved ones.  Hopefully, you'll take us to many more places (even though Dave is trying to avoid Disney World at all costs). 

(February 2013)
     The true reminder of my appreciation for you came recently when we had to send you to the shop for a few repairs.  (Don't worry, it wasn't your fault).  I was left to do my daily routine in the Escape, which is a lovely vehicle.  But, I have to admit that I cursed under my breath as I saw my child swing open the car door into a Cadillac in the mall parking lot.  There was suddenly an anxiety-ridden dialogue going on in my head: "Did it leave a mark?! I don't see a mark.  Should I leave a note? I really don't see a mark.  Hurry-- let's go!"  Did I mention, minivan, that those dad gum children can't even climb into an SUV on their own?  Grow a little taller, kids.  I mean, really.  Did you know, minivan, that other car doors don't close on their own?  You have to use your own hand to pull the handle!  What if I don't feel like using my hands that day?  The list goes on and on.
    
     Minivan, for all these reasons and more, I'll say it: I appreciate you.  I am glad that you take our family where we need to go.  And most of all, I am happy that in November, we won't have any problem finding a spot in your rows of ample seating for baby #3.  :)
All my love,
Katy

P.S. I promise never to shame you with a Rudolph nose and antlers.



Monday, February 3, 2014

Christmas 2013: An Awkward Family Photo Series

     Now that it's February, it seems totally appropriate to relive Christmas memories.  Like we do every year, we took a trip to Fort Worth to see the Kemp side of the family.  The last few years have been fun with little ones around again.

     What's a trip with cousins without some good, old-fashioned Ring Around the Rosies?


 Talk about "rosies."


     After this, I decided to do a photo shoot with the little tykes.






The following is a series that I like to call: Reasons Why I am NOT a Photographer
Exhibit A:


 Sometimes I make them kiss because the awkwardness is so cute.

This is the series I like to call: Reasons Why I Should Give up on Trying to Take a Good Husband/Wife Picture at Least Once per Year

(Alternately titled: I Should Have Realized my Sweater looks See-Through in Photos)

Does this shot single-handedly negate the coolness we achieved by skydiving?

This series is called: Reasons Why we Shouldn't Attempt a Family Photo for at least Ten More Years
 Check out the awkward twins on the left.




 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 Someone more experienced than I clearly got this shot: 
 Ceremonial back view.  What, your family doesn't do this every year?  Weird.
 Cousin time!
 Kristen and I had to remind my dad that even though we are now old farts, we still are part of the cousin generation!  Success.  (And by "success," I mean, "Somebody had to help Kristen get up after this.")

 My aunt is sweet enough to throw a birthday party for the twin cousins every year.

"You ruined my birthday!" Weston told Garrett when he dropped the cupcake.  Needless to say, Garrett won't be invited back next year.  Brothers shmuthers.




Sunday, January 5, 2014

Dear Kids, One Time I Did Something Really Cool

Dear Myla and Piper,

Your dad and I have now been married for four years!  This year, it was my turn to plan our anniversary date.  Your dad is a thrill seeker.  Listen: there has been nothing more thrilling in my life than birthing you two crazies.  But, I wanted to think of something for us to do this year that your daddy would love (without, you know, having another baby). 

Fun fact: this is our first anniversary where I am not pregnant or nursing, so what could we do with my newfound freedom?!  SKYDIVE.

I know what you're thinking, kids: "How could mom go skydiving when her idea of a wild time involves renting a movie on a weeknight?"  Well, I don't know what to tell you.  I just wanted my husband to think I'm still a cool chick.  (Spoiler alert-- SUCCESS).

The morning of the jump, I ran back into the house to down a couple swigs of Pepto Bismal and was in a really pissy mood the entire drive.  I couldn't help it-- the nerves took over.  I watched the video and shakily signed a form that stated I and my estate have no legal rights whatsoever in the event of my death (even if it were at the fault of the skydiving company, manufacturer, etc).  I felt like a terrible mother.  Then, I placed my life in the hands of my instructor-- a 24-year-old girl who goes by "Tubbs."  Let's just say Tubbs is lucky I didn't pee (or worse) in the jump suit she loaned me. 

Fun Fact #2: Looking at our photos, I realized that my terrified smile reminded me of seeing that same smile once before on Dave...at our wedding.  :)

[It all worked out, though.  Whew!]

You walk onto a rinky-dink plane and sit on a bench. You watch them close the door that looks less secure than the ones at your local storage garage.  Tubbs tried to ask me about my hobbies (probably to loosen me up).  "Um, I don't know..." I said.  "Reading and stuff like that is cool, too," she told me.  I think I muttered something about how I can read.  The first guy jumped at 5,000 feet by himself, and I remember asking Tubbs if we would get sucked out of the plane when he opens the door.  We didn't.  When we hit 14,000 feet, it was our turn. 

The verdict: getting from the plane to the jump is the hardest part.  Tubbs said, "Ready, set, GO!"  Then, we were falling.   The air feels like the wind on your face when you are skiing down a mountain.  You should ski down a mountain sometime, kids.  I know I wasn't screaming, but my mouth was open, and for 60 seconds, these thoughts were going through my head:

"Oh my God." (Sorry for using your name in vain, Lord, but I want to accurately document the moment). 
"I'm swallowing so much air, my throat is probably going to start hurting."
"I should close my mouth."
"I probably don't look like I'm having much fun with my mouth closed like this."
 
Deep thoughts, kids.  Then, after what seemed like a full minute but also only a second, Tubs gave me the signal to open the chute.  I did it!  The entire parachuting part feels fake, like you're floating.  It's as if you're hanging in the sky and not really going down at all.  It is almost like you're watching yourself in a movie (a really awesome movie).  Due to some unforeseen wind and our light weight, Tubbs let me know we would be landing pretty far from where we started.  I wasn't scared anymore, though.  Not until I looked down at the "field" we would use for landing and saw field, trees, and a fence.  "Just don't put me on the fence-- I might want to have more children one day!" I told her.  She probably thinks I'm crazy.  We landed in someone's backyard.  On our butts. ALIVE.
 
Tubs kept apologizing that we were so far away, but I didn't care since we survived.  After walking for a few minutes, a man and his wife drove by and let us hop into the back of their truck.  After a few minutes, the guy from Westside Skydivers came by in his truck and took us the rest of the way back to the airport (but not before the lady in the truck took a photo of her interesting hitchhikers). 
 
Needless to say, Dave had a blast, and I would do it again...Maybe. 
 
 
Before boarding the plane:



 Last fun fact: See the guy in the red jumpsuit?  Yea, he is a first-timer.  If you look really closely, you can see his tandem instructor's ear.  Red jumpsuit guy?  He's probably about 6'2.  Instructor? 5'5.  It was an odd pairing if I ever saw one.











 I would say he enjoyed it.
 

Myla and Piper, I'll leave Dad's video at the bottom for proof that we did something cool.  But first, I'll leave you with this: You don't have to skydive if you don't want to.  Ever.  But, sometime, you should do something you never imagined you would do.  You should do something that reminds you how small you are and how big God is.  You should do something that reminds you how powerless you are in this life.  You should do something big that makes you PRAY so you realize all the other stuff you should be praying about in your everyday life.  You should do something fun with someone you love. 

I am sure glad I did.

Love,
Mom

The Video
[I was too cheap to pay $100 more for a video of my face flapping in the wind, so this one is mostly of Dave.]