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Showing posts from September, 2018

family promise

You know how when you get married you rake in a bunch of cash from people who came to your reception?  On our wedding night, we sat and ate pizza on the bed in our suite and opened all our cards.  We were PUMPED at the generosity of all our parents' friends--let's be honest, our friends gave us fun stuff... nothing productive.  The next morning, we ate breakfast and went to the Gateway mall in Salt Lake City to shop around and see a movie--killing time before our flight to Hawaii.  Dewy manned the cash because, well... I'm not trustworthy in a mall with cash.  It was quickly evident that he wasn't trustworthy either, but for different reasons. Dewy is so full of goodness.  He always has been.  As we walked through the mall, we came upon a lot of people begging for money.  Dewy physically cannot walk by those people without giving them something, and while I'd give them a smile or a wave and call it enough, Dewy started forking over our wedding money.  I didn't

i'm not as good as i once was

Being a mom of boys, I always anticipated the day when sports would take over our lives.  I didn't anticipate the decibels it would raise my voice to, or how much hair I could lose from yanking on it. I also didn't realize that I could love and hate something so fiercely... you know... other than my children.   I grew up in an athletic family, and sports have always been a part of my life, so I was totally fine with sports consuming us.  Being on the mom end of sports is a whole different animal than being a player, and I'm not going to sit here and lie to you and say that mama bear hasn't unleashed from time to time on an unsuspecting five year old. There are a lot of opinions revolving around the idea of organized sports, and having been a coach I'll be the first to acknowledge that this world isn't for everyone.  I do think that there are important life lessons that come from being on a team, which is why I will always encourage my boys to play.  I also bel

whatcha readin' wednesday

Part of my job as an English teacher is to help my students learn to LOVE reading.  I'm convinced that everyone loves to read, and if they say they don't it is only because they haven't found the right book.  Enter Amber. When I was small, my dad traveled a lot for work.  Although I don't completely remember how it started, at some point we began reading novels together.  The first novel we read was Where the Red Fern Grows , and I will still tell you it is my favorite book of all time--not because the story was fascinating or because it was so well written or because my dad got emotional at the end, but because it reminds me of sitting in my bed with my dad.  Just him an me.  I'm sure at the time he was probably exhausted from work and travel and being the dad of five kids--pretty sure it was only four when this started, but he had like the most perfect kids so it's not like being a dad was even hard--but he still took the time to read with me.  I give my d

that one time i started a business

People that have known me for a while, know that a few years ago I started a small business.  It started being just head wraps, but shortly after included hair bows, bow ties, scrunchies, hair ties, earrings, and essential oils bags/cosmetic bags.  I made all the products by hand, and I loved every second of it.  I loved drowning in fabric, finding new materials online for my products, introducing new lines, and hiring models for photo shoots.  I loved knowing people in Switzerland, India, and Maine were wearing something I made.  I learned a lot of things in the early stages of this business, and while the business is still something I do, I've taken a different spin on how I work it. In order to understand the business, you should know why I started it in the first place.  I was already an English teacher, piano teacher, mom, wife, and active member of my church community... so clearly the reason was free time, right?  My husband and I were trying to have our second baby, an

i never wanted to be a teacher, but here we are

I've taught English for almost a decade.  For a while it was 8th and 9th grade, but for the last six years I have taught strictly 9th and 9th grade honors English.  I've also coached cheerleading and been the student government advisor, which means that over the course of the last nine years I have worked with the best this junior high has to offer.  Don't get me wrong, all 15 year old kids can be squirrly and obnoxious, but for the most part--if you smack them around a little--they are so fun. Those elementary teachers, though? They are the real heroes. If you screw up a kid in elementary, they are screwed for life... at my job, they come already screwed up.  Way less pressure that way. I'm obviously kind of kidding. My days are mostly the same.  Instruction, grading, a hormonal girl crying, pulling two kids away from each other as they try to make out in  the hall--my kids know my rules on PDA: 1. you must be good looking and 2. you must be good at it, and they are

well that was awkward

A long time ago I learned that if you were going to be the fat kid in school you had to be funny.  Otherwise you had no friends.  You can thank that epiphany for the countless hours of laughing I have provided you over the years.  All joking aside, I'm naturally witty and funny, but I'm also naturally overweight.  Always have been.  I can remember the first time I recognized my fat rolls.  It was fourth grade, and I was in a grey ROXY tshirt that had a stripe of orange flowers across the chest.  I was in my bedroom sitting at my desk to do homework, when I glanced up and caught sight of myself in my full body mirror and there they were.  I'd been teased and called fat countless times before--even by members of my own family, but it was that moment when I recognized it in myself.  That was the first time I told myself I was fat.  Once I tried to pay attention to how often I said that or something similar to myself.  I gave myself three hours, and had to stop because I lost c

domestic goddess

Yesterday a dear friend asked if I was interested in taking some veggies from their garden off her hands.  This is the first year in a long time that we haven't been able to cultivate our own garden because we were putting in an actual yard, so I jumped at the chance to snag fresh produce.  Can we take a second and offer a "hoorah" for generous souls that share their abundance? Seriously.  One of our new neighbors over here is more than eager to share his veggies with us.  He is the kindest older man, and even though he still hollers "Good morning, Amanda!" to me--I wave and reply "It's still Amber, Glen!"--I adore having him close.  He has brought over beets, beet greens, summer squash, green beans, winter squash... basically if you're going to help save my grocery budget so I can buy more crap off amazon prime, I'll let you call me whatever you want.  Wow... that derailed in a quick hurry, didn't it? Anyway... When I picked up the v

date night

Remember how when a relationship is in the newness phase it's all about making out, looking good, and being together as much as possible? And remember how after 9 years of marriage, work, and three children its still all about making out, looking good, and being together as much as possible? Wait... it's not? Well, why? I grew up with parents who ALWAYS had date night on the weekends, and when Dewy and I were engaged they offered me sound advice--guard date night with your life.  Stay within your means, and be smart, but never stop dating.  Now, I'm pretty bossy, and could have easily forced Dewy into taking me on dates, but lucky for me he has always been a willing participant.  Mostly because I put out after, but whatever.  Our dates always include food, because I don't maintain this figure by skipping meals, but that hasn't always meant that we went out to dinner.  When we were first married, and dirt poor, we would pack a picnic and go play catch at the park

the mighty hunter returns

When Dewy finally reached service, and started getting the onslaught of texts I'd been sending him for over a week, he gave his hot little number a call--that's obviously me.  When I picked up the phone, a little too eagerly, and after a few inappropriate comments, the following conversation ensued: Me: So....? Dewy: Jake shot a deer! Me: Why would I care what Jake shot? Did you shoot anything? Dewy: Well, no.  But I have a lot of stories! Me: That is NOT why we go hunting, dear. Nor is that a legitimate reason to endanger the lives of your children. When Dewy comes off the mountain, he's like a new man.  He is more patient.  I believe this comes from the massive amount of patience required to hike for miles and pursue large game.  Or at least that is how he describes it... "Do you know how hard it is? How close you have to get to the elk without them seeing, hearing, or smelling you?" Well honey, I'm smelling you right now, and I can only imagine

confessions of a hunter's wife

My husband and I have been married for just over 9 years.  I feel like the first six of those I was bamboozled.  During that time September brought us back to school, high school football, and the toleration of all things pumpkin spice.  The last three years, however, it has brought us tears, tantrums, and torture.  That's right... my husband discovered hunting season. Dewy used to discuss the idea of hunting all the time, but it wasn't until my brother-in-law--that's right T Garr... I'm looking at you--showed up that anything became of it.  As a self-proclaimed nature hater, I don't understand the desire to wander the wilderness and get in touch with my inner cave-man.  Like, at all.  I just spent a year of my life, and way more money than I intended, building my dream house.  There's no way I'm going to leave it to pee in a stream. The problem there-in lies with where that leaves me when he decides to play hunter-gatherer.  That's right...home. alo