Thursday, March 19, 2009
BABY SALE!
FYI: All baby clothing is $5 at Old Navy starting tomorrow. Any item of clothing that's baby sizing (not toddlers) is just five bucks. The sale goes for a week :) Happy shopping!
Sunday, March 15, 2009
5 Senses
Here are the rules: 5 Senses TagList 4 things you love, and one thing you hate, for each category. Then tag 5 people; leave them a note on their blog so they know.Also, let the person who tagged you know when you post yours.
I haven't been tagged with one of these thingies yet and I liked this one.
SMELL:
1. Bread baking at home. You'd think I'd bake bread everyday because I like the smell so much but I'm just lazy.
2. Super clean laundry. Right now my favorite detergent is GAIN.
3. Lacoste, Juicy Viva, and Hugo Red perfume. YUMMY!
4. The oceanside. Not to be confused with the "puget sound side"...The warm sunny sandy oceanside.
5. I HATE the smell of sponge. NASTY! I buy the big packs of sponges at costco and throw them out after a short time of using them in my kitchen if I even use them. I try to just stick to lysol wipes.
TASTE:
1. Anything that is chocolate and peanut butter. The best choc/PB icecream is made by Tillamook. So yummy.
2. Lemon water. Nothing is more refreshing!
3. Cilantro and lime in mexican food. I love mexican food but it's just not complete without some fresh cilantro and lime juice.
4. Slurpees. yum yum yummy.
5. I love milk but I hate the taste of milk after fruit loops or some cereal like that. And I can't drink milk when it's not really cold....gross.
SOUND:
1. Waking up in the morning to quiet...on my own. No alarms, no babies crying, nothing but the birds outside and the breeze through the trees.
2. Cooper saying "La doo!" (Love you)
3. Mormon Tabernacle Choir (Live)....it's moving.
4. Walking into a volleyball tourney and hearing "volleyball chatter" and whistles.
5. Scraping, whether it's nails on a chalkboard, teeth grinding, anything that scrapes on something it shouldn't makes my elbows hurt.
TOUCH:
1. A hot shower/bath. I've wasted many a gallon of hot water in my own self indulgence.
2. Hugging Jake. We seriously fit together so perfectly.
3. The warm sun on my skin. (or hot, that's good too)
4. A super soft massage, awesome.
5. Getting into a cold bed at night. I just can't recover from the shock.
SIGHT:
1. City life. the cityscape, day or night. The people watching, the colors and variety.
2. My smiling babies.
3. The temple. Driving by it on the freeway, stepping inside, sitting in a quiet room. It's all an amazing sight.
4. The ocean at dusk. My favorite time of day in the summer. The way the sky looks over an ocean as the sun goes down whether you're facing east or west.
5. The actual moment of injury. You know when you see a video of a skateboarder eating pavement and their arm snapping and bending the opposite way of which it should bend? Yeah, I feel it, but I can't help but watch....it hurts.
I'm not going to tag anyone for this but it would be cool to see what others responses are. It's fun to think of what makes your senses come alive!
Pacific Science Center
Our "wee little" family
Caught him smiling!
Coops 'wow' face.
Sleeping on the way home....who needs botox with lips like that?!Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Famous last words
I told him, "Don't get injured," as he walked out the door headed to a stake basketball game......
That night
One week after
Grandma and Aunt Rhonda's visit
My mom's mom and sis came to visit a couple of weeks ago for what was supposed to be a week but ended up being two. It was under crummy circumstances but I was really happy to have them here for the extra time. My aunt Rhonda was diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer this past summer and has been battling ever since. When they got here she had just had a chemo treatment the week before which makes you feel like crap about a week after the treatment. That's right about the time they got to WA. Rhonda had to go and stay in the hospital for a few days to get up to par for the trip home to Utah. I loved having them here and seeing them again. The last time we saw them was back in October (Rhonda) and in June (G-ma). Jack was just starting to smile here and there around the time they came...but it was always a guaranteed smile when G-ma talked to him in her little goo goo voice. Very cute to watch :) The pictures are from the day they got here and met Jack for the first time.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Quote of the decade
So last night Jake and I were on our way home from the adult session of stake conference and we just HAD to stop for gas and there HAPPENED to be a Dairy Queen right there. As we were making our way through the drive through we saw the Thompsons inside getting a little treat too. My thought was, hey, she's pregnant, I'm nursing, and our husbands are just really supportive of our extra calorie needs :)
We ordered our blizzards and when the girl handed them out to us, Jake's first words were, "holy crap, these are smaller than the smalls I remember." I think his hungry eyes were playing tricks on him. We went on our way and I ate mine while I was driving so obviously Jake would finish his before me....But boy was I surprised at how fast he ate it. When I made fun of him for scarfing the thing down, his reply was, "Hey back off, I take bigger bites and my mouth is hotter." I laughed the whole way home.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Jake's Response
We were recently over at the Fry's place watching Glenn Beck on Fox News. He was featuring a story on a girl named Yvette Martinez who went missing a while back in Mexico. She's from CA and was down there and disappeared. He wanted to use his program (formally on CNN) to aid her family in finding her but CNN did not support him in this. Since his recent swap over to Fox News, he has been granted by the network to now help the Martinez family in finding Yvette, and in general, share her story for the sake of shedding light on I guess "underground violence" in Mexico.
Glenn Beck,
I am writing in response to a segment you featured on your show on Fox News. The segment was featuring the story of a missing young lady named Yvette Martinez. This story caught my attention and brought back memories of an experience I had in Mexico just four to five months after Yvette went missing.
My brother and I were chosen as Executive Interns by a corporation in Sandy, Utah to travel to Cabo San Lucas to Manage and boost revenue in a unit of the company. My brother and I had both served as missionaries for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints in Central and South America. We had a great understanding of the culture and lifestyle of Mexico and Chile. We had just returned from traveling through both countries just days before we arrived in Cabo to start our internships.
Our specific responsibilities in Cabo were to grow and stabilize marketing promotions and grow sales within our specific region. We were well on our way when our world was turned upside down just months after our arrival.
In Cabo, the majority of the financial stability comes from tourism. One to three cruise ships anchor in port during the day. The local businesses capitalize on this flow of tourism. Our business was a major hotspot for American tourists to stop, speak English, purchase our products and move on. Many Americans felt comfortable with the atmosphere we provided and our sales benefited. In Cabo we were known for our ability to make money, and we did it well. We had many friends who knew us as the American brothers who could speak both English and Spanish and cleaned up financially.
One evening, I was closing out our storefront and working extra late to do so. My brother had returned to our flat (apartment) located on the 3rd floor of our store’s building. Our storefront was all glass including the front doors. The lock for the doors was located at the bottom of the doors. As I began to close and lock my storefront with my back to the street, two shadows closed in behind me. I glanced backward noticing two individuals; each positioned on one side of my body. At that point I thought I was going to be robbed. I figured I could talk my way out of the situation if that was the case. However it was not the case. As I stood and turned around, I found a Hispanic man, standing about 5’-5,”slim, dressed in all black, his hair slicked back. The truth, he looked like a normal Hispanic man from that area. The other individual was a Caucasian man nearing six feet tall. He was clean-cut, wearing a light coat and some shorts. He resembled a typical tourist.
My heart slowed as I realized these were just two guys out and about in search of direction. The Hispanic man lifted his voice toward me. He called me by name. I had never met this man face-to-face nor in any of our business affairs. He mentioned my brother’s name in his rapid-fire Spanish. The Caucasian man spoke and demanded my help. They seemed to fight for my attention. My stomach sank as I slowly noticed the intensity of both persons and the urgency of their messages. Each slowed their speech and started their plea.
The Hispanic man went first. He spoke in a soft tone, as if he was trying to conceal something. He said that the Caucasian man had inquired about some Cocaine, tried the cocaine and gave it back.
When I heard “Cocaine,” I nearly lost it inside. Growing up I had never been involved with any sort of drugs however I knew well the consequences of drugs. I stopped the Hispanic man and told him I didn’t want to dirty my hands with his deal. He said, “Jake, I know you and your brother Matt speak Spanish and English. I know you are successful businessmen. If you do not help me, we will take care of you. If this man doesn’t purchase the Cocaine, we will kill him.” I panicked inside trying to assess my situation. He continued, “If you don’t finalize this transaction, we will take care of you. I know where you live and sleep.” He stretched his hand forward, closed fisted. I could tell a bag was concealed within his grip. He hunched over as he opened his hand to show the deal.
I turned to the Caucasian man and let my words fly. Why was I brought into this mess? I asked the man where he was from. He explained his Coast Guard cutter had pulled into port and he was out enjoying the nightlife. I became more enraged knowing that a military man was ignorant enough to pull me into the deal. I explained to him his situation. He eyes looked empty. It didn’t seem to register that this was a potentially perilous situation. I remained soft spoken and explained his life was in question if he didn’t complete the transaction and return to his boat. I also explained my disgust as to his actions.
I returned to the Hispanic man. I spoke frankly with him. I completed the transaction. He extended his hand and I didn’t return the gesture. Before he left, I asked whom he was working for. He said he worked for a large drug cartel. He rattled off the name of the group. It was to quick for me to comprehend but I did catch the word “Mafia.” This word would stick with me throughout the night and the next week.
I watched as the men disappeared into the darkness walking toward the cutter. As I stood semi-stunned as to what had just happened, I realized it was late; I was tired and should probably head upstairs to the flat.
When I arrived in the flat, I said a quick prayer and tried to digest what had just happened. I mentioned to my brother Matt the situation that had just passed. He seemed confused on why and how the Hispanic man knew our names, where we lived and our reputation. We decided to sleep it off and would figure things out the next day.
The next day arrived too quickly. Without much sleep and a long day ahead, we were intimidated with all we had to accomplish. As we worked that day, we couldn’t shake what had happened the night before. We were more alert and our trust in people seemed to wane. On our heightened alert, we noticed Hispanic men, similar in style and appearance of the dealer the night before, were watching us from afar. This literally freaked us out.
We quickly called a government investigator we knew personally from Seattle. He had served with our father in a bishopric of our church. He gave specific instructions. We were to stay across the road in the hotel that faced our store and flat. We were to change our daily routine and were not to travel outside of the city. Also, we were to request an emergency transfer out of the country.
With the knowledge of what had happened, our heightened sense and our discovery of more suspicious Hispanic men toiling about, we decided to book ourselves into the hotel. Luckily we had a room with a direct view of our store and flat.
That night a group of men, all Hispanic, broke into our flat, turned on the light and were rummaging through our small flat. We watched in amazement, as they didn’t take any of our valuables. It seemed as if they were looking for one thing, us.
Every time we left the hotel, we noticed two men following us. We knew it wasn’t just a coincidence this was happening just days after I was forced to assist in a small but substantial transaction. It wasn’t coincidence that that man knew our names. We couldn’t turn to the police because the police are easily bought off or killed if they don’t participate.
To condense the rest of the story, we caught a plane out of Cabo over a week later. Our Corporate offices re-located us to Cancun where we assisted in an acquisition and revitalization of a damaged franchise.
I am sending you this story because I truly believe had it not been that we were together, in full sobriety, alert and aware, we could have fallen victim to the powerhouse of drug czars that control and operate the country of Mexico.
I find it absolutely astonishing that people believe their rights, safety and stability are intact in foreign countries. It blows my mind to think of the half naked American girls wandering the streets in drunkenness after a long night of partying. It is beyond belief the naiveté young people have as to how this world, both within and outside our borders, works. I am enamored at the ignorance that sailor had as to his own life and ours.
What I am saying is that there is neither coincidence nor accident people like Natalie Holloway and Yvette Martinez go missing. I hope and pray they are found and brought back safely without harm or accident but that’s being incredibly optimistic. I have come face to face with these slum bags and I write this story to send a warning cry to all to be aware. I didn’t do anything wrong but yet even as I was aware, I found myself in a potentially perilous situation.
Glen, there is much more to my story…I wanted to give you a glimpse of my experience and let you know that bad people are real and they are really good at being bad. They don’t have any regard for life, liberty, happiness or what is “fair.”
Please continue sounding the trump and shedding light on these horrible events. As I said before, I hope those girls are found alive and salvageable. Good luck.
While we watched it Jake was reminded of his experience in Cabo back in 2005. He wanted to write Glenn a letter to share his story as a testimony of how dangerous it really can be not just in Mexico but in any country, especially one you're not familiar with. We also recently saw the movie Taken. It was really intense and really scary to think that those things happen in our world today. (The movie is about a couple of young girls who go to Europe, meet a "friendly" local guy who is actually a "scout" for these scary prostitution rings....the girls are taken and sold....One of the girls father is a former CIA agent and goes to find her....I highly recommend...best movie we've seen in a while.) ANYways, these things are scary, and people just don't realize. I really liked the letter Jake wrote so I am adding it to this post. Check out Glenn's show sometime. He's a great guy with really good views. And, he's LDS....for all our LDS friends out there :)
JAKE'S RESPONSE:
Glenn Beck,
I am writing in response to a segment you featured on your show on Fox News. The segment was featuring the story of a missing young lady named Yvette Martinez. This story caught my attention and brought back memories of an experience I had in Mexico just four to five months after Yvette went missing.
My brother and I were chosen as Executive Interns by a corporation in Sandy, Utah to travel to Cabo San Lucas to Manage and boost revenue in a unit of the company. My brother and I had both served as missionaries for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints in Central and South America. We had a great understanding of the culture and lifestyle of Mexico and Chile. We had just returned from traveling through both countries just days before we arrived in Cabo to start our internships.
Our specific responsibilities in Cabo were to grow and stabilize marketing promotions and grow sales within our specific region. We were well on our way when our world was turned upside down just months after our arrival.
In Cabo, the majority of the financial stability comes from tourism. One to three cruise ships anchor in port during the day. The local businesses capitalize on this flow of tourism. Our business was a major hotspot for American tourists to stop, speak English, purchase our products and move on. Many Americans felt comfortable with the atmosphere we provided and our sales benefited. In Cabo we were known for our ability to make money, and we did it well. We had many friends who knew us as the American brothers who could speak both English and Spanish and cleaned up financially.
One evening, I was closing out our storefront and working extra late to do so. My brother had returned to our flat (apartment) located on the 3rd floor of our store’s building. Our storefront was all glass including the front doors. The lock for the doors was located at the bottom of the doors. As I began to close and lock my storefront with my back to the street, two shadows closed in behind me. I glanced backward noticing two individuals; each positioned on one side of my body. At that point I thought I was going to be robbed. I figured I could talk my way out of the situation if that was the case. However it was not the case. As I stood and turned around, I found a Hispanic man, standing about 5’-5,”slim, dressed in all black, his hair slicked back. The truth, he looked like a normal Hispanic man from that area. The other individual was a Caucasian man nearing six feet tall. He was clean-cut, wearing a light coat and some shorts. He resembled a typical tourist.
My heart slowed as I realized these were just two guys out and about in search of direction. The Hispanic man lifted his voice toward me. He called me by name. I had never met this man face-to-face nor in any of our business affairs. He mentioned my brother’s name in his rapid-fire Spanish. The Caucasian man spoke and demanded my help. They seemed to fight for my attention. My stomach sank as I slowly noticed the intensity of both persons and the urgency of their messages. Each slowed their speech and started their plea.
The Hispanic man went first. He spoke in a soft tone, as if he was trying to conceal something. He said that the Caucasian man had inquired about some Cocaine, tried the cocaine and gave it back.
When I heard “Cocaine,” I nearly lost it inside. Growing up I had never been involved with any sort of drugs however I knew well the consequences of drugs. I stopped the Hispanic man and told him I didn’t want to dirty my hands with his deal. He said, “Jake, I know you and your brother Matt speak Spanish and English. I know you are successful businessmen. If you do not help me, we will take care of you. If this man doesn’t purchase the Cocaine, we will kill him.” I panicked inside trying to assess my situation. He continued, “If you don’t finalize this transaction, we will take care of you. I know where you live and sleep.” He stretched his hand forward, closed fisted. I could tell a bag was concealed within his grip. He hunched over as he opened his hand to show the deal.
I turned to the Caucasian man and let my words fly. Why was I brought into this mess? I asked the man where he was from. He explained his Coast Guard cutter had pulled into port and he was out enjoying the nightlife. I became more enraged knowing that a military man was ignorant enough to pull me into the deal. I explained to him his situation. He eyes looked empty. It didn’t seem to register that this was a potentially perilous situation. I remained soft spoken and explained his life was in question if he didn’t complete the transaction and return to his boat. I also explained my disgust as to his actions.
I returned to the Hispanic man. I spoke frankly with him. I completed the transaction. He extended his hand and I didn’t return the gesture. Before he left, I asked whom he was working for. He said he worked for a large drug cartel. He rattled off the name of the group. It was to quick for me to comprehend but I did catch the word “Mafia.” This word would stick with me throughout the night and the next week.
I watched as the men disappeared into the darkness walking toward the cutter. As I stood semi-stunned as to what had just happened, I realized it was late; I was tired and should probably head upstairs to the flat.
When I arrived in the flat, I said a quick prayer and tried to digest what had just happened. I mentioned to my brother Matt the situation that had just passed. He seemed confused on why and how the Hispanic man knew our names, where we lived and our reputation. We decided to sleep it off and would figure things out the next day.
The next day arrived too quickly. Without much sleep and a long day ahead, we were intimidated with all we had to accomplish. As we worked that day, we couldn’t shake what had happened the night before. We were more alert and our trust in people seemed to wane. On our heightened alert, we noticed Hispanic men, similar in style and appearance of the dealer the night before, were watching us from afar. This literally freaked us out.
We quickly called a government investigator we knew personally from Seattle. He had served with our father in a bishopric of our church. He gave specific instructions. We were to stay across the road in the hotel that faced our store and flat. We were to change our daily routine and were not to travel outside of the city. Also, we were to request an emergency transfer out of the country.
With the knowledge of what had happened, our heightened sense and our discovery of more suspicious Hispanic men toiling about, we decided to book ourselves into the hotel. Luckily we had a room with a direct view of our store and flat.
That night a group of men, all Hispanic, broke into our flat, turned on the light and were rummaging through our small flat. We watched in amazement, as they didn’t take any of our valuables. It seemed as if they were looking for one thing, us.
Every time we left the hotel, we noticed two men following us. We knew it wasn’t just a coincidence this was happening just days after I was forced to assist in a small but substantial transaction. It wasn’t coincidence that that man knew our names. We couldn’t turn to the police because the police are easily bought off or killed if they don’t participate.
To condense the rest of the story, we caught a plane out of Cabo over a week later. Our Corporate offices re-located us to Cancun where we assisted in an acquisition and revitalization of a damaged franchise.
I am sending you this story because I truly believe had it not been that we were together, in full sobriety, alert and aware, we could have fallen victim to the powerhouse of drug czars that control and operate the country of Mexico.
I find it absolutely astonishing that people believe their rights, safety and stability are intact in foreign countries. It blows my mind to think of the half naked American girls wandering the streets in drunkenness after a long night of partying. It is beyond belief the naiveté young people have as to how this world, both within and outside our borders, works. I am enamored at the ignorance that sailor had as to his own life and ours.
What I am saying is that there is neither coincidence nor accident people like Natalie Holloway and Yvette Martinez go missing. I hope and pray they are found and brought back safely without harm or accident but that’s being incredibly optimistic. I have come face to face with these slum bags and I write this story to send a warning cry to all to be aware. I didn’t do anything wrong but yet even as I was aware, I found myself in a potentially perilous situation.
Glen, there is much more to my story…I wanted to give you a glimpse of my experience and let you know that bad people are real and they are really good at being bad. They don’t have any regard for life, liberty, happiness or what is “fair.”
Please continue sounding the trump and shedding light on these horrible events. As I said before, I hope those girls are found alive and salvageable. Good luck.
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