He was my dream come true.

 On August 15, 2006, the sweetest little pup was born alongside a handful of siblings. A few weeks later, I met him, and called him my very own. 

When I was a younger girl, I dreamt of one day having a beagle of my own. I knew that if and when that day would come, I would name him Wendell. 

Wendell Rupert was a belated wedding (he was born ten days after my marriage began) and early birthday gift (he came home shortly before my birthday that year. From the moment I saw him alongside his momma, he had my heart. 

I remember the night I drove him home, as he snuggled up in a blanket, crying softly on occasion, but otherwise sleepy and content. When he came home to our apartment, he was less than thrilled with kennel life, but adjusted nonetheless. 

It wasn't long before Wendell started blessing me with memories. He ate a phone book, and chewed off and ate the corner of my "Complete Works of Shakespeare" one day. 

Another night, when he was still a puppy, I had set a pizza on the counter in the kitchen to cool. Somehow, this little puppy made his way onto the counter and ate half of it.  We learned quickly that Wendell had a vertical jump like none other, and by the time he was full grown, he could reach a treat approximately six feet in the air.  I'm his later years, he once jumped on the kitchen counter while I was at work, opened the cupboard doors, chewed open a bag of sugar, are a bunch of it and spilled the rest. Then, while I was still working, the sugar made him sick, and I came home to regurgitated sugar "pancakes" all over the floor.

Wendell, like many dogs, loved the snow. He would run through snow that was higher than he was and never seemed to grow tired of it. 

He also loved cuddles. His favorite place was in the bend behind my knees if I was laying on my side. He would read his head over my legs and snore away soundly. We spent countless hours like that, and he kept me the most dear company on nights when my former husband was away for work. 

He loved riding in the car, specifically the back window. I always wondered why he preferred that spot. I wonder if it's because he could see so much more from up there.  Occasionally, I would brake, and he would roll down into the seat, come say hello with his tail wagging excitedly, and then hop right back into the window. 

He, as a beagle generally is, was a bit mischievous and also so very smart. He knew the difference between right and left and would high five the correct hand that you would call out. He would sit and shake, jump and even crawl. He would try to fake us out and turn his head really fast when we asked him to roll over, but he couldn't fool us, and eventually would give in and do the trick  He couldn't make up his mind whether he wanted to be inside or outside some days, and I would have to go back and forth and back again trying to help him decide.  One time, I had him hooked up outside in the backyard a while, and then realized he had gotten free. A while later, I received a phone call from someone across town who had found him. "He obeyed the traffic laws and waited to cross the street until it was clear! He even used the cross walk!" The gentleman on the other end of the line, who was keeping him safe in his truck at the hardware store, explained as he called the number on Wendell's tag. 

Wendell was my constant companion, and after a while, we brought home a girl before, Vivian, that we rescued from someone who had not cared for her well. She was super skittish for a long, long time, but Wendell loved her, as did we. Before our children entered our lives, Wendell and Vivian had become parents two separate times. Wendell did good with all of his busy kids, just like he always did with human children in his life when he lived with me.  He really just loved everyone he met. He loved our kitten that lived on the farm with us, too!

Unfortunately, Vivian needed more freedom than we could give her after she had her babies, so she found another family that could provide that for her, and we let her go on and love them. It was one of the hardest decisions I had to make. 

Wendell stayed by my side though. He continued to love me fiercely and well through my first pregnancy. In fact, he loved me so much, he once peed on my leg to mark his territory when we were with a group of family and other dogs. It was so gross, but equally hilarious. 

Wendell was there when we brought home our first son, and loved him instantly. He spent many hours curled up beside the baby, especially if the baby wasn't feeling well. He wouldn't leave his side. As our son grew, they became playmates and partners in mischief. Our son would laugh hysterically as he would hold a piece of his food in his high chair and Wendell would jump up and get it, or he would feed Wendell dog food, piece by piece, and giggle like crazy.  They were best friends. 

My heart broke when we couldn't bring him with us, after having him at my side for six years, as we moved into a larger rental to prepare for the arrival of our second baby. I tried everything I could to find a place that would allow him to come with us. I was eternally grateful that my dad was able to foster Wendell for a while, and I could continue to love having him a part of my family. When my dad also needed to move, a friend of my cousin brought Wendell and his daughter home, and she was able to foster him a while. I was so fortunate to be able to see him still while he lived with them. Because of this friend, my youngest baby, my daughter, was also able to meet Wendell in her lifetime. 

My heart continued to break when life took another turn and the friend could no longer keep Wendell in her home, and without other options, he was surrendered to the humane society. 

My heart began to mend when I learned that a family in the area had found him and brought him home. That would be his final home, where he spent his final seven years. The most wonderful part about his new home, the haven he was blessed with, was that they shared photos and stories of his later years online, so even though I had to let him go, I was still able to see him.  I have been grateful for this family every day since they brought him home. 

One of my life's biggest regrets, although not entirely in my control, was that I was never able to have him come back home to me. It was always my hope and my goal to bring him back home. My own world was falling apart before he was in the humane society, and struggling as a single mom to three kiddos at the time and trying to provide for us just proved to be a little too much and kept me from fulfilling that dream. I have spent countless days and nights crying out in sorrow knowing I failed to see that dream through, still able to feel his presence behind my knees while I laid awake in bed at night. I've spent hours wondering if I broke his heart as much as I broke my own, and wondering if he missed me as much as I missed him. The guilt and remorse was in unbearable for quite some time. 

I have loved Wendell every day since he was born, even when he wasn't at my side. 

The portion of my heart that held him closest shattered this morning when I read that his time on earth had come to and end. He lived a long and beautiful life at nearly sixteen years old. I hadn't been able to hold him in my arms for years, but I have carried him with me always.  I find comfort knowing he lived a long life and provided me with countless memories, but I know I will still shed a few more tears in his honor. 

Rest in Peace, Wendell Rupert. You were my dream come true. 

Transitioning

The past few nights, Spencer has been fighting sleep pretty badly.  Even for Jake the other night, he cried and screamed a few times before finally giving in to sleep.  My sister, Samantha, and I discussed it briefly tonight, as I was mentioning how it stresses me out, though I try not to let it.

After talking for a few minutes, we both concluded that it's probably a reaction to all of the transitions that have been going on the past few months, as well as those that he may be able to "sense" that are coming up over the next few months.

Now, I know I've mentioned some of these transitions and changes in blogs prior (though I truthfully haven't been keeping up with blogging as much as I would normally do, partially because Spencer's taking more and more of my attention and focus, and also I've been spending time with people when they're around and available), but tonight, I was thinking about them all over again.

I realized I'm more stressed out about things than I let myself show.  I guess that's okay, because I'm probably more pleasant to be around that way, but internally, it might be wearing me down a bit.  So, here I am, blogging again, finally.

As I've said, Jake has started a new job with Washington National. He loves it, and he's doing well, which is a huge blessing, because it's meaning I'm still able to stay home with Spencer and grow baby Bo.  But, of course, the three nights away/four days away in a row (most weeks) takes a toll on all of us.  We're still adjusting, I think.  It's hard sometimes to be the soul parent in the house for that many days, only to have everything thrown for a loop when Jake finally comes home.  Schedules differ, though I try to keep things consistent, and Spencer doesn't understand really, though he seems to be doing pretty well being flexible.

Jake and I have been trying to adjust, still, too, the two of us, and our marriage, to the new stresses and changes of his job.  Sometimes, it seems a lot harder and more stressful than I imagined, but other times, it seems like nothing's changed really.  But, it's hard, and I've been really emotional about it.  And he's been really busy, so it's not always worked out the easiest to sit down and talk things through or have one-on-one time.

Then, we've been a one-vehicle family for about two months now while our other vehicle has issues.  We haven't put the money into fixing it yet, because we've been saving up to move.

Yup, we're moving.  More on that shortly.

Two weeks ago, or so, my sisters both came to stay.  Allison, who is 13 now, stayed for two full weeks, and then on Sunday, left with my dad and brothers who came to visit.  Spencer loved having her here, and was really actually distraught when they all left us on Sunday.  He threw quite a little tantrum as soon as they walked out the door, actually.  Fortunately for him (and for me) Samantha, who is 17, is still here and is staying the duration of the summer (give or take a few days or weeks).  She's been an amazing help, I must say, in not only caring for Spencer (especially during these 100°F or hotter days when I still try to get him outside for at least a short period here and there), but also keeping me, miss hormonal-eight-month-pregnant-stressed-out-mommy in a somewhat stable emotional state.  Gosh, I'm so lucky to have her.  Seriously.

Allison is coming back in a few weeks, with my dad, who is going to help us move.  Yes, back to moving.  When Spencer and I went to visit my family in my hometown in June, we all came home to new neighbors.  Now, friends of mine on Facebook especially can vouch that I complain about our neighbors pretty consistently, and have since we moved in, basically.  I think we've gone through five different neighbors or sets of neighbors since we moved in, and only one of them (borderline two) were what I call "good" neighbors, who didn't party, stomp, slam doors, yell, etc. at various hours of the day and night.  The new neighbors are just as loud, if not louder, than ones in the past, and when we got home and found them (heard them) living above us in the middle of the night, Jake declared we were going to move.

So, I spent the better part of two or three weeks trying to track down a rental place (because we're still not in a position to really buy a home) that would have enough space, in our current budget (with Jake still acclimating to his job), and allow our dog.

Sadly, as we drew closer to our "deadline" for securing a place so we could move within our time-frame, we realized we weren't going to be able to keep Wendell with us this time.

We're blessed again, in that my dad (and siblings who live with him) offered to keep Wendell for the duration of our lease, until we can/will move again and can have him back.  Now, I will admit, our dog has the knack for driving me completely up a wall, but I love him very much.   We've had him since we were first married (minus a month and a half), and as I joked with Jake "I've spend more time with him than my actual husband" (because Wendell is always home with me, or at least 99% of the time).   Not only do I love him, but Spencer does.  Wendell is his puppy, his dog, his pal.  He talks about him and gets excited and calls all dogs "Wen-doh!" now, even though he knows that they're dogs/puppies and can say and identify them as such.

To picture the next six to twelve months without Wendell by Spencer's side makes me cry.  I'm not even kidding.  I've cried many times since realizing we couldn't have him this next move.  But, knowing that my dad will have him, and we can still see Wendell, and can and will have him back again helps.  Thank goodness!

We finally did sign a lease for a 3 bedroom, single family home.  It's a pretty nice, older place. It's got its perks and it's downfalls, but it will work for us.  We were really feeling stressed and rushed to find a place and move before our next child is born... sometime in the next 5-9 weeks, most likely.  It's less than 7 weeks until my official due date!  We knew it'd be easier on us all to move and get settled into the "new" place before we brought home a new baby, so finding one, signing the lease, and getting over there has become a main focus of our days.

Well, now it's to the packing part.  We signed to move in on July 14.  We did this last Friday, giving us approximately two weeks to go through and pack all of our stuff again. Fortunately, we're moving about a mile (maybe two?) from where we live now, so it's not a huge move, but it's still stressful.  I find it especially stressful, because, much like last time we moved, I'm nearly full-term in a pregnancy, and I'm not allowed to do what I would normally do while moving, lifting and hauling stuff.  Yes, I can fill a box, but after that, chances are I'm not supposed to be carrying it around.  And this time, we have a "helpful" toddler around who is making it pretty challenging to get much of anything done on a daily basis.

Then, we'll be moved... and transitioning to a new home.  Do we transition Spencer to his toddler bed before we move?  Right when we move?  A while after?  Originally, my reasoning for wanting him in the toddler bed was that it was physically straining me to lean over his crib railing to pat him to sleep over and over every night.  But then, we did the sleep training thing and for the most part, he is fine on his own (except the past few aforementioned nights).  So, is the necessity still there? I don't know. I don't know what would be easier on him and easier on us.  I know when we stayed at my mom's for four nights, he was trying to sleep in a new room, in a different bed (his pack and play) and he did NOT do well.  So, part of me is afraid to switch him to a toddler bed at the same time that we move, and wait it out, or do it now.  I just don't know.

And then... we'll have our second child.   We won't have our dog.  My sister may or may not be here for a bit after the new baby is born, I don't know, she hasn't really decided (either way is fine, I don't want to pressure her).  Jake will be home for two weeks or so to help me and Spencer (and himself) adjust, but then he'll be gone.. and it will be me, and Spencer, and baby Bo.  Will Spencer like having Bo around?  Will he hate it?  Will he act out?  Will I be able to handle it?  Will I be able to find help if I can't?  Will I ever sleep again?  Will we... will I... be okay?!

There's just SO MUCH going on!

Gah!

Okay, that was long.  I commend you, and thank you graciously, if you managed to read the entire thing, and have any input, advice, commiseration, or... anything... to say afterward.

Bless you.

Oh, how the years go by.

This weekend, Jake, Spencer, Wendell, and I packed up and headed to Minnesota, to spend the weekend at Jake's mom's house.

This is an activity that (well, with the exception of with Spencer, and sort of Wendell) is quite familiar to me.

Last night, Jake and I were sitting on his mother's couch, with Spencer playing on the floor (Wendell was outside with Jeb, Mindy's dog), and I had a flashback of this photo:

That photo was taken in 2002. Where we were sitting last night, we were facing that couch.

It dawned on me that I have been visiting Mindy's house for TEN YEARS. That's a decade.

Jake and I met in the summer of 2001. He came to my house the very first time on August 31, 2001. I don't know why I remember that date, but I do.

As we sat there, me staring at this photo (in my mind, of course) of us on the couch across from us, I was hit with so many flashbacks of time spent in that living room. And then, I said to Jake something about me coming to visit and spend the night there for TEN YEARS.

I followed with something like, "and now, we're bringing her GRANDSON with. I never saw that coming!"

It's amazing how time flies. Really. I mean, I sit here now and muse about what the next ten years will hold, and it sounds like a really, really long time, but it's not, at all.

I believe Jake's youngest brother, Josh, was about 12 when I met him the first time. He was at home this weekend too, and when he would walk up the stairs from the basement, I'd have a flashback of him being so young. He was about the same age as my littlest sister is NOW. She was TWO when Jake met her. TWO. That's only a year older than Spencer is! Wow!

The past 10 years really flew by faster than I ever imagined that they would. (Of course, this past year was the quickest flying of them all, if I do say so myself.)

Today, we went on a lunch date, and visited "China" (that's what the name of the restaurant in Windom is, "China," which I think is really... absurd...), and then just drove around town together, passing by old friends' houses. We covered almost the entire town, actually, reminiscing about old times, things we'd done together with our joint friends, and things we'd done separately that stood out to us as strong memories. It sounds kind of "lame" I suppose, but it was really fun, I think. I was silently overwhelmed with the realization of how much time I spent in that town, and at his mother's house, over the last decade, and how many wonderful memories I have with so many friends from the area.

I also decided that I can't wait until Spencer is a few years older, and we can take him back there, and take him on that drive, pointing out important places from the early years of his father and my relationship, as well as our memories with some of his blood and honorary aunts and uncles. I can't wait for him to play at the parks I hung out at, or eat at the McDonald's where his father gave me my first hug (from him, of course) early one summer morning at McPrayer.

I then realized I'd been friends with his best friend for 11 years already. And I met some of my other close friends 15 years ago (they went to my school, but one of them is now married and lives in Windom), which seemed even more insane.

In the evening, one of the friends that I have had since I was a toddler came over to Mindy's and brought her husband and her infant daughter. The six of us sat in the grass talking and watching our babies play, and she said, "this is much different than what we're used to doing when we hang out, isn't it? But it's awesome!" Or something similar. It gave me goosebumps. It was a wonderful moment.

I don't feel that much older than when I started making all of these wonderful friendships and memories with people from Windom, though obviously, I am. That's the crazy part. I guess, some days I feel older, but for the most part, I still feel so... young. But I'm actually closer to 30 than to 20, and I finally have a child that we'd been trying for, for so long.

As I write this, I have "Here's to the Night," by Eve 6 in my head. I had the lyrics to that written on a favorite pair of jeans from the summer prior to my senior year, as well as "icons" I drew of things that reminded me of my friends from that summer. I wore the jeans, actually, for one of my senior photos. Almost all of the memories from that song, that summer, and those jeans, are tied up in Windom, and my mother-in-law's house.

To me, that's pretty stinkin' awesome.

This photo has some of my dearest friends from 2001-2002.

Baby Shower, Birthday, Blah, blah, blah!

This will hopefully not be too long, but I mean it to be an all-encompassing update post about the last few days!

Saturday, my best friend, Michelle, and my dear cousin, Tarah, hosted a baby shower for Jake, Spencer, and I, at cute little house at Tuthill Park, here in Sioux Falls.

(M, J, N, T)

There was a very good turnout, in my opinion, and despite my fears of feeling awkward and stared at the entire time, it was a blast! We are truly grateful to those who attended in celebration of Spencer's upcoming birth! Of course, we are also very grateful for the variety of gifts that we received, all of which will be put to good use, soon!

I really wish my grandmother could have been there, though.

My favorite part of the shower was the fact that Jake came. I know that generally, guys don't do baby showers, but Jake was more than willing and excited to be a part of it, which I appreciated greatly. He helped open gifts, and made it even more fun!

Following the shower, Jake, Michelle, and I came back to the house and relaxed a bit, before going out to supper, and then to a movie. It was wonderful to have her around for the evening, especially since my birthday was on Sunday!

I am 27! Jake is 27! We'll be 27 when our child enters the world! That's pretty exciting stuff, right there.

For my birthday, we went to church, then out to Hu Hot (my favorite restaurant), for lunch. After Michelle left town, Jake and I put away baby gifts, and I watched Jake assemble the baby swing. I was overwhelmed with excitement and started crying to myself realizing that we're so close to meeting him! Later that afternoon, we met up with an old friend from a former job (Western Community Action, 2007-2008) and her husband, mother-in-law, and 3 month old daughter. They surprised us with a diaper cake that she made, given to us by her, and two more of my former colleagues, whom I miss very much! Then, we went to another friends' house, where I cuddled on the couch with their 4-month old son while she made birthday supper. Jake and I went to a movie together that night.

Yesterday, I worked a really long shift, and felt like I might never wake up again after I got home and started falling asleep on the couch, of course, after meeting up with a friend to help choose paint colors for her basement.

This morning, I had my 38 week (holy moly!) doctor's appointment. Turns out, I'm at least 1.5 centimeters dilated, close to 2 she said, and 60% effaced! He's also at -3 station, which means he's moving lower, though he hasn't "dropped," according to what most people would call it. But he's getting closer. As I was going to leave, she said, "See you next week, if not sooner!"

Unfortunately, today is the day my husband guessed his son would be born, and I don't think he's going to win.

Post-doctor's visit, Jake and I met up with his dad and step-mom for belated birthday breakfast and coffee. As I was on my way home to prepare for work, I received a phonecall from an anonymous number. I answered, and was informed that Mr. Wendell (who was the star of my last post), went on an attempted "shopping trip" at the 12th street Ace Hardware! His leash appears to be cut, though it could be a nice clean tear? Who knows. The guy who caught him made sure to tell me he watched Wendell use the crosswalk properly, and at the correct time, as he ventured to the Ace Parking lot! I got a good laugh out of that.

Alright, now, I must head to work. Until next time...

The Easter Bunny was Bombed.

I just left the computer room from replying to a facebook message from a friend, to find what appears to be... the remains of the Easter bunny (assuming he's aqua colored inside) exploded all over the living room, hallway, and kitchen.

Gee, I wonder who did that?

Mr. Wendell, of course.

Wendell Rupert, our "darling" 4 year-old beagle, has been somewhat of a terror this past week.

Monday: I came home and he had destroyed the garbage, and pooped on the floor.

Tuesday: He knocked over the garbage again.

Wednesday: He was pretty well behaved, but he chewed up a corn-dog stick (I have no idea where he got it) and left it in the hallway.

Thursday: He was IN THE GARBAGE CAN when I got home.

Friday: He was sleeping soundly in his chair, and there wasn't a mess... until after I took him for a walk and let him do his business, then fed him, watered him, and went on Facebook.

Now, he has his moments where he's pretty naughty, and has since we got him (when he was a puppy, he ate The Complete Works of Shakespeare while I was in class. I was not amused. Another time, he ate an entire bar of Special K bars while my friend Matt and I went to rent a movie. We didn't know he was capable of jumping on the table when he was so small.

Sometimes, I find it hard to be mad at him, like, when we leave him and didn't take him out first. Or when we forget to pick up something and it's something he'd obviously tear apart. But the other times, I just am furious. Luckily, he's cut down on those majorly since last winter...

until lately.

I've heard a few theories: He knows that we're having a baby and wants his attention. He is mad at me for being so exhausted and not spending as much time with him lately. He is upset with all the changes (losing his "wife," children, and "boyfriend") when we moved again.

Whatever the reason, it's not cool.

And now, I have to go clean up the fluffy blue remains.

(Although my mom won't read this, because she doesn't have the internet, it's her birthday, and I love her!)

Yeah, it's wet out.

I like the rain.

I mean, it's dreary and wet and such, but I love the sound of it. I like how it looks when it's splashing on windshields and in puddles. I used to take photos of it any chance I had (I've been lazy about photographing anything since February 22, 2010 though).

When we lived in the other place, though, rain was not my friend. It flooded the basement nearly every time, soaking the carpet and growing mold in random places (and of course, our shitty rental company, A+ Rental Realty in Sioux Falls, refused to do much of anything about it (but I'll get into all that another time, of course)), and causing tons of stress.

Here, not so much a problem, so I'm back to enjoying it.

I like how it is a lullaby that sings me to sleep as I snuggle up with a blanket in the middle of the day. Though, that's not always a possibility, like.. when I'm at work. (I envy the babies instead.)

I don't much care for, of course, my hair getting all frizzy and six inches high off my head, but hey, whatever.

I feel bad, though, because my husband has to work in the rain, and that's just miserable. Especially when it's chilly out. I guess when he gets home tonight I'll have to wrap my arms around him and give him a big warm hug.

Wendell... doesn't so much like the rain. I think it's actually driving him crazy. It's been raining fairly steadily since yesterday. This morning, I went into the living room, and he's going balls-up-berserk-tastic as he ran from the kitchen to the chair, scooting the chair back a few inches at a time as he bounced against it and back to the kitchen and to the hall and around me and to the chair and running into me and... you get the hint. I think he lost it. Though, he seems pretty content next to me right now, lying comfortably on the floor.

When I got into my car and turned on my iPod this morning, in an ironic twist of melody, the first three songs that played, in shuffle mode even were "Rain" by Creed, "Please Don't Stop the Rain" by James Morrison, and "Rain King," by the Counting Crows. (No joke.)

A few months ago, the week of our anniversary, Jake and I got caught in a torrential downpour as we ran into Starbucks to beat the closing time. It was awesome. I laughed so hard. It was like something just out of a romantic comedy.

Not so fun, however, was the point at which I was driving down Cliff on the way to work and a pick-up truck comes up benext to (haha, I can't believe I just typed that) me and moved, barely quicker than I was, through gigantic puddles. It sprayed my car and windshield so badly I couldn't see for about 15 seconds. I was having a miniature panic attack thinking for sure the person behind me was either going to hit me, or I'd accidentally swerve into him or the lane next to me. Ack.

So, there you have it, a random, out-of-sequence posting about various rain topics.

Shakespeare Hates your Emo Poems.

I guess I don't really have anything important to say, but yet, I felt like writing on here, so, here I am, doing just that.

This past weekend, Jake and I took our "last vacation without a child," meaning simply, before Spencer is born. We packed up our things, including Mr. Wendell, and headed for the cities (after dropping Wendell off with my family). We spent two nights with Miss Best Friend and her husband, at their very spacious, spectacular new apartment. Both Jake and I were very impressed with the space. I particularly loved their red wall in the living room, as well.

David, MBF's husband, made Mexican food for us when we arrived on Saturday. It was super delicious. Breakfast the following morning was equally wonderful.

The "main goal" for the weekend, I guess you could say, was to attend the Renaissance Festival in Shakopee. Jake and I attended together a few years back, and had a wonderful time. He mentioned to me in August that we could go, and of course, I had been excited ever since. Michelle had never been there, so we purchased tickets for she and David to attend with us.

Jake wore a (my) t-shirt that reads, "Shakespeare Hates Your Emo Poems," which was a hit, as many people commented on it throughout the day. He even had his picture taken in it by people actually working there. I was highly entertained.

We enjoyed watching Johnny Phoenix, who is a comedian/magician/entertainer guy, as well as Puke & Snot (they are much more entertaining than their name would allow you to think), watched a glass artist at work (I was completely entranced, as Jake put it, I had "droopy jaw" as I watched him work), enjoyed the banter at vegetable justice (where you throw tomatoes at a dude's head, basically), meandered through the petting zoo, and caught a few glimpses of the live joust and horse show. I forget what else. We did a lot of wandering, talking, and reminiscing, as well as planning trips with Spencer and the excitement that will bring.

On Sunday night, we watched the new "Star Trek." I hadn't ever seen the old one, nor knew anything about Star Trek... so I was kind of lost, but enjoyed it for the most part!

On Monday morning, Michelle, Jake, and I (David had to work, unfortunately), walked to the Good Day Cafe, which is where the bridal breakfast was the morning of their wedding, actually. My Almond Encrusted Brioche was fantastic. My mouth is watering just thinking about it now. Following, we met up with Jake's younger sister and her boyfriend at the Mall of America, for all of five minutes, before having to leave. While we were there (I guess we were probably IN the mall for 15 minutes, maybe 20), Jake and I ran into one of our ushers from OUR wedding, and his wife, and their TWO kids! We knew they had the older one, Ayden, because he was a baby when we got married. But now they have another son, Danny! And Ayden is tall! It made me realize how bad we were at keeping in touch with them, and how much I missed the days when they were a part of our lives. It was wonderful to catch up with them while we had the chance, though.

We were even fortunate enough to visit with Jake's best friend, Brian, for a short while, after we picked up he and his family from the airport!

When we got back to Sioux Falls, Jake drove through a few car sales lots, and we realized that Wendell was oddly excited about the activity.

SO, I guess the babble turned into a recap of my weekend. I hope that wasn't too incredibly boring for you.

Jake and I had cupcakes on Saturday before we left. Well, actually I didn't. Jake had two before we got to Minnesota, and I had one after we arrived in Minnesota. I had purchased two for myself, and we also picked out one for each of my sisters as a surprise gift, but then my youngest sister had a friend with her and she wanted my other one and I'm just that nice that I couldn't say no to a kid, so I gave it up. We forgot to get one for my dad (love you dad!), so I owe him!

They're delicious, fyi:

While talking with Michelle, we decided that we think Jake should blog about being a first-time father. I think it would be lots of fun to read, whether he is my husband or not. Wait, that makes it sound like I might divorce him... which I won't, so... uh... Oh look, it's 10:07 and I've been up since 5:49. I'm going to bed. Haha.