if i had a million dollars...

I would buy all my maternity clothes here:

http://www.isabellaoliver.com/maternity-clothes/us

Specifically these:

here

here

And REALLY this:

here

I've been looking at this dress for 15 minutes straight. It's beautiful. It's so beautiful.

boom river

I love the 4th of July, it's actually one of my favorite holidays. I love summer, cookouts, people-watching, big-boomer fireworks, and the possibility of getting in trouble with the police. Confused? Let me explain.

My love of America's holiday came to me honestly; it's my mom's favorite holiday too. As kids, we couldn't wait for the 4th to finally come around! We would wake up that morning, just as excited as my mom, who would be arm-dancing around the house and clapping her hands over and over!! We would spend the morning swimming and playing outside, sometimes sneaking off with my dad to the fireworks store to stock up on Black Cats and Bottle Rockets.

My mom would buy chips and potato salad and my dad would fire up the grill. We would eat the classic 4th of July menu: burgers and dogs, corn on the cob, watermelon till we'd burst. We would then get hosed off, as watermelon is messy stuff, and get ready to go to the river.

In Tulsa, the place to be on the 4th is the river. They put on an AWESOME fireworks show, folks. But it's not just the fireworks that make it great.

We would show up hours before it got dark, just to beat some traffic and get a good spot on the lawn. We'd set out a blanket and some lawn chairs, equipped with a cooler full of Shasta, card games, roughly 48 bottles of sunscreen, and a portable radio. Let the people-watching commence.

Those of you who have spent time with my family know that we love a good roast. We will make fun of anyone, especially each other, and especially people we don't know. The 4th of July celebration at the river is a goldmine, chalk full of people just dying to be secretly teased.

There was a stage set up, with live bands and local celebrities (like newscasters, and one year the girl who sang in the May's Drug and Drug Warehouse commercials showed up. You know, "get the best of us, every daaaaaaaay, May's Drug and Drug Warehouse!") The music was Lawrence Welk material, at best, but there was always this woman we dubbed "the Flag Lady." She wore a flag dress. Not a dress she bought that had flags on it, but a dress made out of old flags. Really loose and baggy, like a very festive tent. Imagine this, only flags:

She also wore flag earrings, a flag headband, everything flag. No shoes. The same outfit every year. And she'd dance. I don't mean bob her head to the music, I mean arms above her head, eyes closed, full-body swaying to John Phillips Sousa. She was a gem. Then there were, of course, people who'd show up already drunk at 3 pm, those without teeth, and a lot of really classy mullets. Flag Lady was our favorite though.

When it got dark, the fireworks would start. Everyone tuned their radios in to a station that was synced with the display, and for a good 20 minutes, we would enjoy the best fireworks I've ever seen. There were the multi-colored poppers, the streaking screamers, and my favorites, the big-boomers that would shake the ground and take your breath away. All the while, Carrie and I sang "Proud To Be an American" and "Be Kind to Your Webbed-Footed Friend" along with the show. Then came the finale. Babies were crying, dogs were howling, my dad was laughing, it was glorious.

After the show ended, all 5 billion people would try to get up and leave at the same time, so rather than fight the crowds, we sat on our blanket and waited. While we waited, we talked and laughed and teased, and after enough people trickled out, we gathered up our stuff and headed for the car. The traffic was usually still pretty bad, so we drove around all the old neighborhoods in downtown Tulsa. There are some amazing houses down there, most built in the 20s, during the oil boom. I always loved that part.

We would finally venture home, and then have our own fireworks show. When we were really young, it consisted of sparklers and popsicles in the backyard, but as we got older, Dad would break out the illegal stuff. Don't get too excited, all fireworks are illegal inside the Broken Arrow city limits. I'm just talking about bottle rockets and cherry bombs. We would got out in the front yard or the school parking lot across the street and go to town! We rarely had bottles, so we got creative with our bottle rockets, sticking them in the ground, or holding them in our hands. (one time I lit my sweater on fire at the worst birthday party ever doing that, but that's another story). I remember one year somebody tied one to our mail box and it almost hit a neighbor's car! Hilarious! Almost every year, a police car would roll through the neighborhood, and a policeman would stick his head out the window and ask if we had been setting off fireworks. We would say "No, we are just standing outside in the middle of the street with sooty hands for another reason," and they would move on. After every last Black Cat and party popper had been laid to rest, we went inside, ate a few more slices of watermelon, and went to bed.

I haven't been able to go to Boom River for a few years, but I still love the 4th of July. Not only because I really am proud to be an American, but because it reminds me of my childhood and my crazy family, and how blessed I really am.

For your viewing pleasure:

I've always had a sweet-tooth

Those who have known me for a long time know that I love candy. And cake. Also cookies, brownies, ice cream, etc. Basically, I love sugar.

When I was a kid, I ate any type of sugar I could get my hands on. And as much as possible. I would convince my friends at school to let me have an oreo from their lunch, I'd save my change and raid the vending machines, I'd even sneak my Halloween candy to bed with me and eat it at night (now you know why it was so hard to get Carrie and I to go to sleep, mom).

Now, I normally eat sugar like any normal human being: have a slice of pie for dessert, grab a candy bar from the checkout line every once in a while, make some choco-chip cookies when the missionaries come over for dinner.

But 6 months ago, I began growing a human, and all that changed. I have turned back into my 9-year old self.

I crave candy daily. And not just any candy. I want kid-candy. Sour Patch Kids and Swedish Fish and Orange Slices and Twizzlers used as a straw in pop. Just last night I almost bought an entire 1 lb. bag of Ring Pops. Who needs that many Ring Pops? Maybe if I were jamming to TLC at the 5th grade skating party!

As I'm typing this, I'm eating Jolly Ranchers and Root Beer. (Don'y worry, I ate some corn on the cob and a sandwich first, I'm not totally crazy.) And I'm about to go get one of the chocolate cupcakes I made last night.

Hopefully this ends before my teeth fall out of my head.

Harry Potter and the power of mothers

This is really cool:

http://byuwsr.blogspot.com/2011/06/harry-potter-power-of-mothers.html?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+WomensServicesAndResourcesBlog+%28Women%27s+Services+and+Resources+Blog%29

i thought this was a party, LET'S DANCE!!!

Did you know they're remaking Footloose?

sooooooo basically, it's exactly like the Kevin Bacon version. Whats the point of remaking it? How can it get any better than this:

1-4 church is hard for babies.

We now go to church from 1pm to 4pm, right in the middle of Portia's naptime. This is what Brandon and I found as we made dinner after church on Sunday:

It took me 5 minutes just to get her to regain consciousness. Poor baby.

Pottermore

I think I've mentioned before how much I love Harry Potter.

Well, this video aired this morning:

I went to the Pottermore website, but I'm still a little confused as to what it all means. From what I understand, it's an online version of the Harry Potter series, but with space for notes and insights from readers around the world, and J. K. Rowling herself. Should be interesting!