Two Pretzels

September 30, 2015

Sweet Sally.

This is the only SUP cake I could find on the google. Disappointing, no?

My SAL! (Een's Bob.)
We love you.
Yeah, it's really that simple.
The B family loves you. (Including Ferg.)
Lila and Vivi want to return to your house and be on the boat with you. (So do we.)
Craig and I love you and the Mr.

You are so wonderful.
It's funny how friends just sort of become family, isn't it?
I'm so thankful for that...
You are beautiful, obviously - but you are authentically caring and kind and you have the most beautiful soul.

We love you so much, Sal.

We're so glad you were born. Happy, happy birthday.


What they say. Volume VIII.

We were in the car. Lila driving. Vivienne and I in the backseat. (They do things differently down here on the Baja.)

Not true. I was driving, the girls were in the backseat. Because they're 4.5 and 6. But it is true that they do things a bit differently on the Baja. (See my previous post.)

I digress. (As usual.)

The conversation:

Vivi: "Mommy? Do dreams come true?"

Lila immediately interrupted: "No, Vivi."

Vivi repeats herself, ignoring her sister: "Mommy, do dreams come true?"

Me: "Yes. Of course they do."

[I look in the rearview mirror. She's got a triumphant smile on her face. I love how she just believes me and trusts me. This will last forever, right?]

Lila, still not convinced: "Well my dream hasn't come true."

Me: "Oh really, which dream?"

Lila: "You know it, I can't say it out loud or it really won't come true."

Me to Lila: "You can tell me anything. Even your dreams. When you tell me your dreams they'll totally still come true."

So I ask her, "Are we talking about the unicorn?"

Lila responded. "Yep. Still no unicorn."




I have a bit of a gluten intolerance. (Not allergy. Too much information? Sure.)

I ate bread, shouldn't have, it hurt, I was bloated.

Vivienne looks right at me and says, "Whoa, Mommy. You look full."


Thanks for noticing.


The girls are slightly obsessed with the character "Sadness" from the movie Inside Out. (She's super cute.)

Lila colored this picture of her.

Vivienne felt like it was time for her to be happy.


Kids are cool.


September 28, 2015

MexMo: Huh?

So, the only way I get mail in Cabo is by "renting" a supremely overpriced mailbox from a placed called "Mailboxes" in San Jose del Cabo. It's not a "Mailboxes, Etc." because they literally offer no discernable services other than: mailboxes.  The address of my mailbox is based in San Ysidro, CA -- a border town -- and somehow (I don't ask questions), it just arrives down here in Cabo.

I don't know how it gets here or who brings it, but I don't imagine it's wholly legal.

Still, I pay for it.

Yes, I pay to receive magazines and Christmas cards. (Hashtag, priorities.)

I like to feel like an American and I like mail and I like paper and I like to receive letters and the like. (I was an amazing pen pal as a kid.) So, I feel like an American by going to my mailbox and checking for mail every week or so. I unlock my box and attempt to pry out the Real Simple, Harper's Bazar and Vanity Fair magazines that are CRAMMED into my 4 inch by 4 inch mailbox.

(Sigh. What they do to mail is unacceptable. Oh, Mexico.)

The mail system at Mailboxes isn't all that consistent. Translation: I send Disneyland ticket info to the box? It never shows up. Junk mail? Shows up.

Basically, there's no system in Los Cabos that delivers mail in a timely manner.

At our old house, the mail person (who I never saw with my own eyes), would just throw randomly stamped envelopes on the rock wall outside of our house. He'd throw the entire community's mail there. Like, "Hey ya'll, here's the mail. Take what you want. I mean, whatever."

[shakes head, look of confusion on face. Insert eye roll.]

At our new house, we have a mailbox but the only thing that gets delivered to it is our $900 water bill. (Not kidding. Our last water bill was $900 USD. That's currently be "evaluated." I'm sure it will be resolved.)

So, I have this box that I had to renew. After I paid for the next six months of magazines, the guy handed me this:

I asked, "Que es?" (What is this?)

He told me it was was an ultraviolet "tool".

I literally stood there and was like, "Huh?"

My brain was trying to connect "mail" to "ultraviolet tool."

So I said what all mannerful people would say, "Oh muy bien. Gracias."

Then I walked to my car and was like, "What just happened?"


THIS is what happened.

Please notice on the top of the box, that has an "Appreval." It appears to be approved.

By what?

I don't now.

But I feel far more confident to have an "Appravelled" ultraviolet tool, than a non-apprvalled.

I'll tell you what just happened, though.

CABO just happened.

ONLY in Cabo do you get handed this. An ultraviolet tool.

With virtually no explanation.

I literally signed my name on my receipt, and he handed it to me.

He wasn't going to volunteer any info until I asked.

While I don't know if it accurately depicts the ultraviolet levels, I do know that it's a one-of-a-kind gift and a hit with Lila Pickle and Vivi Cake.

File this one under, "Didn't know I needed it, so glad I have it."

[shakes head.]


I love that I live here.


September 27, 2015

Happy birthday to my friend... since 7th grade.

Jennifer Ann,

Does it make sense to say that we've been friends for 23 years? 
Because I'm pretty sure we've been friends for 23 years.

(How is that possible when we're just 29?)

YOU. Oh you.

You are an inspiration. You're real, friend. You're oh-so-real.
You grow and you encourage and you have left an indelible mark on my life.
You inspire me.
We're a sappy bunch, us two - and I hope that when we're old and gray, we're still a sappy bunch.
I am thankful that all these years later, we're still friends.
Thank you for being YOU.
Because, dear friend, there are very few like you. You are a gift.

I am so happy you were born.
I love you, Jenn.

Kylee Ann


Happy Birthday, Een!

Friend, I love you for who you are.
You are loyal and loving.
You are thoughtful and kind.
You make me laugh.
You encourage me.
You remember the details.
You are beautiful and beyond dear to me; to my husband; to my daughters.

You mean so much to me.

I love you and I respect you.

I am so glad that we became friends years and years ago. And I'm happy that we get closer as time goes on.

I love you, Een.
I am so glad you are my friend.
I am so glad you were born.

Happy, happy birthday.


September 24, 2015

Lego shock.

So we're pretty into Legos in our house right now.

So fun.

And while the point of this post is not to discuss how insulted I am by the "Friends" and "Elves" Lego lines that are pink and purple and assume that girls only like pastel colors and that girls only want to build pop star tour buses and shopping malls (BARF), I just had to mention it.

I digress.

I was doing a little browsing on the lego website and ran across this "Identity and Landscape Kit."

Kindly go ahead and guess the price.


I'll tell you.

$789.99. But don't worry, you get 2,631 pieces.

See here.


I was just telling Craig the other day, "Yeah - we should either pay the girls' tuition or buy them these legos I found online..."


I sort of feel that we should all be investing in legos these days; the value appears to be more stable than the stock market.


September 22, 2015

That hug.

A year and a few days ago my family and I were air-evacuated out of Cabo after Hurricane Odile, a category 4 hurricane, devastated our community.

It was one of the most terrifying and disturbing times of my life. I never want to live through something like that again. EVER.

We went to the airport at 5 or so in the a.m. - and it was completely pitch dark. No light anywhere, just darkness. We stood in line outside of a hotel that had two of it's three sides blown off and we got in a line to leave. We didn't know where the rescue airline filled with volunteer pilots and crew were going to send us...

We ended up going to Dallas.

Exhale sigh of relief.

We went to where my brother was.

To this day, it brings tears to my eyes as I type this. The feeling I had when we walked through the airport doors... We were dirty and beyond emotionally and physically spent. We had just gone through an experience that jarred us so much we couldn't even speak about it. It was so shocking there weren't tears... that is until we walked through those airport doors and I saw my brother.

My eyes immediately filled with tears. And I remember that hug.

That hug.

That's the same hug  I remember falling into as a little girl.

It's the same hug that I remember during our Dad's funeral.

It's the same hug I got the moment I got the news about my Mom. When he jus sat there. Quietly with me. On the floor of my bedroom. Saying nothing.

It's the same hug that I still, to this day, love.


Brother - you mean so much to me.

I don't say it as often as I should, but you are such an important person in my life.

I love you and I like you.

I respect you and admire you. You are a man of honor, of dignity, of kindness and of love.

You're an amazing Dad, a phenomenal brother. I love when you call me, "Kylee-kins" - like Dad did. I love that when you laugh really hard you sound

(Bry, he would be so proud of you. And he would love your children.)

I am so glad you were born. I love you to the moon and back.

Happy, happy birthday.


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