Never such devoted sisters

Secretly I love being the older sister.

Should I hold his hand on our date? What should I take over to my sick boyfriend? How did you know you were in love? Should I take this job? Can I pull off skinny jeans? What should I major in? How much did you spend on your wedding dress? What does it feel like to be married? To live with a boy? To feel a baby kick?

I feel so special when they ask me questions and really want to know what I think. Sometimes I know what to say and sometimes I don't, but they know I'm always around to ask.

Two engaged sisters. Two weddings to plan. Two dresses to buy. Four million things to do.

Tomorrow, Isabelle and I are venturing to the land of flurries and snow to help get some of those things done. I've just barely packed the essentials for our six day venture- clothes, toiletries, diapers, toys, shoes, books, medicine, snacks, wipes, blankets, sleep sack, pack n play, car seat, stroller- I need a pack mule to get my stuff from the car to the check in desk at the airport. SIX DAYS. Fifty pounds of stuff for me and my 24 pound child. Gimme a break.

Excited doesn't quite cover it. ECSTATICBALLS. We're gonna see family and friends and shop and eat and show Isabelle what snow really looks like. Be back in a flash.

Sometimes I suck at things.

It's tradition that for Valentine's Day I usually make Jazz a love-themed treat. Our first Valentine's Day was a big deal, we had only been dating a short time and I spent HOURS making and carefully frosting the most amazing almond sugar cookies. I'm pretty sure that's when Jazz knew I was the one. This year since we are eating healthier, I wanted to make something that had a small portion size so I could give the rest away to friends and family (to make them fat.). Really I wanted to make a red velvet cake with cream cheese frosting and eat the whole thing within a 24 hour period, but I ultimately concluded that was a bad idea.

I decided on cake pops. Have you heard of them? They've been all over the blogosphere for awhile now- the creator writes a blog called Bakerella and basically she invented chocolate covered cake bites on a stick. Sounds amazing, right? She makes them sound so easy to make- then she fancies them up with themed designs.

Super cute, right? All images courtesy of Bakerella.com

Well I have this disease where I see something and think "oh, I can totally make that." Sometimes it is true, most times it is not true. Anyway, I purchased the necessary supplies and sat down, prepared to make awesome cake pops. I was thinking something simple, maybe white balls with red heart shaped sprinkles. Good place to start. I scoured the internet determined to get all of the tips from cake pop-ers before me. I was ready.

You need: A cake mix, some frosting, some sticks, some chocolate. I'm so specific! I usually don't use boxed frosting because I much prefer homemade but I didn't want to ruin the recipe so I just went with it. Also, Safeway didn't have candy melts, so I just grabbed some white chocolate. There is no time for a trip to Michael's for silly candy melts when it is raining and your baby wants to take a nap.

Bake your cake as usual. Wait for it to cool. Wait! Then use a fork to crumble it all up in bits. Have a bite. It's delicious. You did a great job.

Add about 3/4 of the jar of frosting until it is all moist and sticky. Use your patties to shape into perfect balls. Eat as you go.

Dip one end of the stick into the melted chocolate and slide each one about half way into the cake pop. So far so good! They look like mini confectionery soldiers all lined up and ready.

HERE IS THE PART WHERE I QUESTION MY ABILITY TO DO ANYTHING.

After you have let the sticks set for about a half hour, it's time for dipping. Dipping LOOKS easy, but in fact is nearly impossible. I sat there dipping and tapping the excess chocolate off of the sticks FOREVER. The cake fell off the stick. The frosting fell of the stick. The sticks fell off their holder thing. And because we didn't have any Styrofoam, beardy Jazz got trixy with an egg carton.

After 8 or 10 or 20 I gave up with the dipping and just decided to leave stick up for easy drying.

A cake casualty.

Cake pops! I had such high hopes for you! Why must you sucketh!?

Good news is they tasted fabulous. Bad news is they looked like misshapen mummy vomit. I do not like failing at things, especially in the kitchen, and if at first you don't succeed, try try again. (right?) If you decide to make these, please know:

1. Spend the time finding stupid candy melts.

2. Make sure your garage has some Styrofoam laying around.

3. Set aside one year of your life to dip and tap sticks.

4. Quit. Don't do it. Seriously.

Fee-Fi-Fo-FUN.

Here's a little video of my sweet little valentine playing hide and seek. Notice I am doing the majority of the hiding and the seeking while she is handling the laughing/cute/adorable portion of the game. Also, I sound like a canadian goose.

Isabelle LOVES to be chased. Even if I look at her a certain way, her face will light up all huge and she will slowly start backing away from me. It kills me, it's so funny. SHE'S so funny. Can't imagine my life without her.

Happy Valentine's Day! Traditionally, Jazz and I have Mexican food and share a night in. This year we did healthy shrimp and broccoli....and each had one of those teeny mini ice cream cartons. You know the kind? Cherry Garcia for me, Reese's PB for beardy J. After working in restaurants and waiting tables endlessly for multiple V-days in a row, you could not pay me enough money to go out in the madness tonight. And for us, staying in is perfection.

2/9/11

The other night it was getting late, Isabelle was peacefully sleeping in her bed and I was anxious to do the same. Jazz was working on an extensive project in the garage and relayed to me that he would be out there for a bit before joining me. I puttered and tidied a little awhile before my pre-bed ritual of teeth and face and tivo- Bachelor had taped and nothing beats some junk reality tv before sleep.

As I hopped into bed I realized how freezing cold my feet were. Solid chunks of ice. This is nothing new for me- I have terrible circulation to my toes and I'm constantly trying to keep them warm. Except when I was pregnant, all that extra blood kept me toasty toasty. I curled into my duvet and bloop-blooped through the two-hour Bachelor show all cozy and happy, waiting for Jazz to join me. (PS- anyone else think Michelle is scarycrazyinsane? Blows my mind.) No matter what I did, my feet would not warm up. I stuck them under my warmest of blankets, rubbed them with my hands, curled them under my body desperate to get comfortable.

I don't know if you know this about me, but I used to be kind of mean. I'm not kidding, ask anyone, they will tell you the majority of high school was not my finest time. I was rude and abrupt and not very smiley and maybe it was just because I was a teenager with horrible, horrible problems like gross skin, trying to squeeze my way into the cool group and hating my curling iron bangs. College was betterish? I definitely had some wonderful friends and some very positive experiences. But I was in that weird stage where you really have no idea who you are or what you want to be when you grow up. I wasn't very good at making friends because I don't think I was very welcoming. I was cold.

Winter of my junior year of college, I had a string of terrible dates, with people who are likely in prison by now. I was at the end of my dating rope. And then I met Beardy Jazz, only then he was baby face Jazz. On our first date, he told me I was beautiful and I believed him. I can tell you what I wore and what we ate and where we went and how I snuck away to call my sister and tell her how I was having the best time ever. That date was February 9th- four years ago today.

After we got married, I had numerous people tell me that they were happy that "old Micci" was back. The nice, kind, warm, fun Micci that they remembered, not cold at all. They told me that Jazz brought out the best in me- they could tell some sort of change had taken place that consumed my whole being.

Just as I was wrapping up the Bachelor, Beardy Jazz came in and we said our nightly prayers and got into bed. After just a few minutes recounting our day and planning out the week, my feet finally began to defrost. That achey freeze left, charley horses went away, and for the first time all night, I felt warm.

All I needed was my Jazz.

Sole-mates.

I'm in love. L-O-V-E.

Danskos. Christmas. Life changed forever.

I seriously wear them everyday, I'm not kidding, they are so comfortable. And I like to think they go with ever-ree-thang. I had always heard that Danskos were comfortable, my mom has had the clog style for like four hundred years. I see them on nurses and servers and all kinds of high traffic people. I decided to try a pair to see what all the hullabloo was about- maybe they would help my feet not hurt.  Mine get especially dry in California and as a result, I get terrible cracked heels. Is that too gross for my blog? Eh.

Btw, Jazz has the most unnaturally soft baby bum feet. Wasted on a man! Unfair.

So I got my shoes. Mine are called the Marcelle in Cordovan Cabrio- I chose them because they were the cutest style and the cutest color, of course. Shiny black patent appealed to me as well but I thought the cordovan would be more versatile. AND IT IS. Plus, they are slip-ons! Exclamation point!

They passed the difficult Disneyland test with the brightest of flying colors...I am officially converted to the clog religion. The best part is that my feetsies feel wonderful. You know sometimes you wake up and put your feet down on the floor and they feel all old and stiff and you hobble to the bathroom? (Just me?) After wearing these shoes for a few months, I put my toes to the carpet and it's like clouds and fairies and sunshine.

I wish this was a sponsored post and I could give everyone a free pair. If only I was Oprah. "Danskos for EVERRRRYOOOOONNNNNEEEE!"

Tidbits.

When I don't feel good my mom makes me cookies. I recommend them hot, right out of the oven, or cooled and dunked in cold milk. Just my preference. She makes the best homemade chocolate chip cookies ever baked, seriously. She uses some wheat flour so it makes me feel less guilty about eating one. Or eleven. Hundred.

I spent the majority of my week planted on my mother's couch watching Harry Potter and flipping through Jcrew magazines. About 4 pm everyday I felt so ANXIOUS- like I needed to get out and do something or wash some clothes or mail some important items. I didn't have to do any of those things but I felt like I needed to, you know? As nice as it is to sit around in a semi-drugged state for a few days, I'm ready to move on and be done with this whole process.

I've got stuff to do!

Also, I cut my own bangs, which is always a huge mistake. As soon as I can wear pants again, to the salon I go.

Speaking of pants, Jazz and I are on a "lifestyle change." I say lifestyle change because I hate the word DIET. DIE-IT. Horrible word. I still have a heffy amount of baby weight left to lose, don't worry that Isabelle was born in the year 2009, I can still claim pregnancy fat! ok?! So there's that. And also we would like to be in better shape in general so here we are, on our "lifestyle change."

It involves a lot of protein and low carb and before you scream ATKINS and roll over dead, it isn't atkins. Atkins is NO CARB, and I clearly mentioned LOW carb. I personally feel that if we are too strict and never eat things we enjoy, we will cut our tongues off before the year ends. Everything in moderation, you know?

I don't think Jazz wants me to publish our "results" yet, but we've been doing it for almost a month now. I will say that combined, we have lost about 35 pounds. Minus the few post-surgery days when I lived on crackers and toast, we have been sooo faithful. Jazz gets into this like machine mode where he won't even look at treats and I'm sitting on his shoulder sayng are you suuuree? you don't want one cookie??? one little oneeee? I'm such a whore for sweets.

We have some extra motivation because we have been invited to this lovely event in May- it's called The Marriage of My Little Sister Sabrina. Haven't you heard? Sabs and Jared got engaged recently and I could just squeal for them, I'm so happy! What is it about weddings- they become much more fun once you've had yours, it's way more exciting. If there is something that motivates me, it's the threat of being in a bridesmaid dress standing next to my hot sister. Yep, that will do it every time.

To recap: Surgery is over, feeling really good, don't cut your own bangs, Sorensen's are eating meat, wedding in three months, ready set go.