Jason's sister
Janett is living with us for a while. She is Mason's new favorite person and he often goes to the top of the stairs and yells "
Nnnnnnneh?" looking for her to come play.
Janett's fiance, Brady, is also one of Mason's favorites. I don't know what it is about boys and the need to wrestle, but I'm glad Brady is around so Mason doesn't miss out on any vital wrestling boy time while his dad is at work. Not that I don't wrestle with him...I do...but it's just a boy thing.
Janett is getting ready for her wedding. She's a "planner" and is very on top of all the details that a wedding requires. The fun and excitement is contagious. It takes me back to this time about four years ago when I was stressing over the last minute details of my own wedding.
(cue the twinkling lights and warped music as we take a little trip down memory lane)First of all I must confess it wasn't me stressing over the details. It was my dear sister, Amy, who took on the brave role of wedding planner. What a saint. We were engaged less than two months. We wanted to keep things easy and simple, but even then there was a lot to do in a short amount of time.
Two main incidents come to mind when I think of our engagement (I'll save the proposal and the wedding for a rainy day).
The first one is our photo shoot. My brother Andy has the eye for great photos and the heart to offer to help. When he said we were headed up the canyon for engagement pictures, I assumed just up the canyon up a few miles. I put on my
Chaco sandals and grabbed a couple of shirts for each of us. We drove up the canyon much further than I thought. Good news for the amazing pictures. Bad news for the frozen toes. We stomped, slipped, slid, and shivered in the snow. We got many great photos, but my favorites are the candid shots Andy took while we were laughing, screaming, and falling in the snow.

The second incident was noteworthy because it was mine and Jason's first major misunderstanding. I was working at the University and found a place on campus where I wanted to have my reception. There were a lot of hoops to jump through since it was on campus, but my boss Laurie was very helpful. She arranged a big meeting with everyone who was part of the event. While the amazingly difficult decision of round cakes or square cakes was being debated, I glanced down and noticed the hugest pair of hands in the world. They belonged to the supervisor of Food Service. By huge I mean gargantuan. Like bricks or paddles. Or, considering his occupation, like a big worn pizza board. The fingers made me think of tree roots. Mesmerized, I caught Jason's attention and under the table spread out my hand and bobbed it while making my eyes wide and astonished. My message, clearly, was "oh my gosh look at those hands. He could rip my head off!". We moved onto discuss refreshments, lighting, music and all the things I never would have thought of on my own. As the meeting progressed I became more and more frustrated at Jason. He would hardly say a word! Even when asked for his input directly, he would defer the question to me. I didn't really care on much of it, and I was concerned he wouldn't help me get the process over as quickly as possible. By the time we left the meeting I was wound up. "What happened in there? I thought we agreed to make these decisions together", I whined. "Yeah, that's what I thought until you shushed me!" came his reply.
My hand motion under the table sent a much different message than I intended. He thought it meant, "Quiet down now. I'll do the talking".
Good thing he is quick to forgive and engaged couples believe themselves to be immune to the difficulties of uniting two individuals under one union. Jason and I are still finding ourselves on different pages almost constantly, but our affection and commitment to each other has grown exponentially.
Do I miss the dating, planning, excitement of single life? Absolutely Not.