Drat, Rats and Lizards, OH MY!

I did it again, I said I wouldn't do it and indeed I did! I knew that I could do it, I knew it, I knew it. And when it came to do it, alas I failed again.

OK, enough of the My Fair Lady tirade. Short end of the stick, I haven't blogged since March 23rd! Crap. CORRECTION. Poop. CORRECTION. DRAT! So yes, I have absolved to the oblivion of using the "drat". After hearing your 4 year old nephew say "crap" and "poop", you begin to understand the mantra good mothers politely reinforce to their children to keep their language clean and clear and under control. Apologies, I have about a million commercials running top speed in my head today. In case you didn't catch that, "clean, clear and under control" is the "jingle" for Johnson and Johnson's Clean and Clear face wash product. But it fit so beautifully I couldn't but help myself to the silent entreaties to "borrow" their simple statement of clarity.

Between the movies and the commercials, something good is bound to pop into my psyche eventually. Ability to recount commercials, say so's, sweet nothings, and tunes from your favorite movies and incorporate each into your "saying of the moment" should lead one to believe I posses a vast intellect beyond all reason. The mind is a wonderful and imaginative thing. Mine appears to be dwindling lately due to the jargon of insurance freely invading my hard-drive and causing additional memory to be purchased (i.e. notebook and calendar to which even small tasks are recorded in order to help me remember the important things in life). One would hope, no even suppose, the jargon of my trade to politely delete and consume memory space reserved on behalf of movie theme songs, commercial jingles, sweet nothings and say so's, but alas, those remain unabashedly untouched.

Moral of the story, if you don't see me write in down, I won't be doing it. So, wait for me to write it down before you say one word more and you are guaranteed a smooth transition to completion. In short, I am becoming more like my mother. I now own 3 timers for cooking, none of which make much sense b/c I am of late constantly forgetting to set them. I have a MASSIVE purse to which everything must be stored, everything. Cannot blame my mother entirely for this one, in fact, that is entirely my own fault and obsession. I do take credit for passing this infectious disease to Lin-lee, so far my attempts to infect more around me have not yet hit decision making status in other's minds, instead I believe the infection is commonly referred to as "Kourtney OCD". I laugh. Yes, I do obsess, but not too much. I still maintain my sanity at 95%. Everyone needs a little cushion room, I figure 5% should be compulsory and sufficient.

Anyway, back to the reason I decided to blog today:
1) It's been forever
2) Jackie and Jason's baby Jefferson is SO PRECIOUS AND CUTE!

We were in Utah until just recently and I would like to blame my "blogcation" (thanks Meg, for the word) on such activities, however, I had full access to a computer at any given time and cannot therefore, accuse my Utah time of being culprit.

Jefferson is so cute. I will have pictures loaded sometime this week. Jackie is an amazing Mom already! She is so good with him. Jason gets mad at us for making him cry (hey, every infant needs TONS of pictures) and you can tell he will be a very protective father.

We were at his blessing and Jefferson was crying away, forcing lung capacity to maximum and instilling doubt in Jackie's mind he would willingly cooperate. Jason waited for a few seconds, rocking and lulling to no avail. He began the blessing and immediately Jefferson stopped utilizing his God-sent fully developed lungs. Not a few seconds later, IMMEDIATELY. I think we have a spiritual feeling addict on our hands. It was so sweet. And I really think it was the spirit inspiring and comforting little Jefferson, just as much as his Daddy's voice.

Okay, I will post pictures later, not enough time on my lunch break to get the dang, um nix that, not enough time to get those dratted pictures posted.

Love to all my suffering (hopefully uncontrollable fits of laughter in some parts) readers.

Oh, and being my Mom isn't a bad thing, just mentioning how you don't seem to figure out it's not bad to "become your MOM" until later in life and I find myself more and more attracted to trying to be just like her! Even if one of those quirky traits seems to be forgetting you are cooking every now and again.