Life With the Laurences

My small family is pretty awesome.

My husband, Tucker, whom I will refer to as Tucktuck, Tuckerca, Sunshine, Hubbles, Hubs, Hubblekins, Nook and various other things, is my rock. Mannnnnn I have zero ideas of what I would be without his witty one-liners and yodaesque tendency to keep his calm in stressful situations.

Tucker and I met in September of 2009 while I was still attending Willamette University.  Two of my sorority sisters set us up and to this day I cannot thank those two girls enough.

My best friend, Cassie, and I decided to throw a party at her house the night he and his roommates came down from Lewis and Clark College. That night my phone got locked away in my Bestie’s room. Tucker, annoyed that I was ignoring him, bid the party adieu.

 The next day I woke up in my room. Now my room at the time was almost a quarter of a mile (maybe more) away from my Bestie’s house. I had no phone, I had no shoes, I had someone else’s shirt. Commence Nancy Drew mystery sleuth mode.  First, the very slow and lumbered walk back to Bestie’s home. I know I looked like the living dead except I was rocking the sunglasses. Yes, there was sun in Oregon that day.

There I found everything lost the night before… and texts from Tucker  trying to tell me goodbye the night before. Feeling very guilty, I apologized. Then Tucker invited me to dinner in Salem. He made the second trip down to Salem from Portland in 24 hours.  The drive is roughly 40 minutes, traffic permitting. Tucker took me me to my favorite local sushi spot.

 Our first date was just that, a first date. Full of awkward gloriousness.

A week or so after we met I was driving with another dear friend of mine, Katie McAwesome, to get two staples of my diet in college: bulk candy from Winco and Dutch Brother’s Coffee.

As we are driving along and talking about my new love interest I turn to Katie and go,

“Katie, I think I'm going to marry this guy.”

Two and a halfish years later I did just that. Married that guy. Boy liked it enough to put a ring on it. And Katie was one of my bridesmaids. Katie also inspired the title of this blog. Katie is also awesome. Hence her most epic nickname Katie McAwesome.

He is one super awesome human being that has supported every decision of mine and pushed me to follow my dreams to the fullest extent. I could not/ would not be where I am today without his love and support. He is also a pretty awesome cheerleader and shoulder to cry on.  He is just the absolute best. I am one lucky lady to have such an encouraging guy who lets me leave for months at a time.

             

Pac 12 Championship. Go Stanford!

Don't ask questions, just embrace it.

Now, onto the pets. They are just as much a part of my family as either of the humans. All of our animals are named after some kind of cheese. I am not entirely sure how we thought of it, but the idea just stuck.

Mozzarella:

 Our two year old. Mozzie, for short, is our yellow lab. I bought her for Tucker as a wedding present. He had never really had his own dog growing up and I wanted to give him something special as a present. LIGHTBULB. Suddenly, a wild adorable lab puppy appears!

 I remember when we first got her. At our apartment in Lake Oswego there was a South African couple that lived above us who adored her. Mozzie was an ungodly adorable puppy. When we told them her name, Mozzie, the wife laughed, “That is what we called mosquitoes back home in South Africa!!” Of course at the time I laughed it off, but two years later, everything is clear now. Destiny somehow intervened and named our dog.

 Now, I grew up with medium to small size dogs that were:

A. Generally low maintenance

B. Not higher than my knee

 C. Could sit on your lap without crushing you.

Mozzie is none of the above. In fact, she may be more high maintenance than Tucker.  Even with the holes to China she has dug in our yard, daring escapes from doggy jail and various shenanigans she is a great pup. We will always have a love/hate relationship because she is DEFINITELY Tucker's dog. She loves everything and I can constantly compare her to Doug from Up.

Bosworth and Gouda:

Fancy Baby Gouda

My boys. Over the last year I finally came to grips with reality: deep down inside I am a crazy cat lady. I love their purring and kneading you. They are so soft. So cuddly. And I love them. Inexplicably I. love. cats.

Last April, after returning from South America, Tucker and I finally decided to get a cat. I always wanted one that I could raise from kitten hood to adulthood.

Suddenly, two adorable brother kittens appear!

The tale of how we were actually granted custody of the cats is an entire blog post on its own. It involved a screaming man, a feral cat, potentially fake tears, and the GURU of crazy cat ladies everywhere. None could compete with this woman.

But, these are my boys. My precious babies whom I call bozzywozzy and googoobear. I told you, I am taking the baby steps to fulfilling my lifelong goal of being a crazy cat lady people can meme about. One day.

So, in a nutshell those are my pets. But, my pets (yes, both cats and the dog) share one bizarre obsession:

SOCKS.

Our pets are OBSESSED with socks.

It started when Mozzie was a puppy. At first it was adorable. She would appear all over our home with a sock that she had magically conjured out of thin air. I thought she was a wizard. Soon after, any time I would see her, a sock would be in her mouth. To this day I firmly believe she had a secret sockpile somewhere in our home. I no longer believe the dryer ate my socks, but instead my dog is hording them somewhere.

Now I also believe that the pets plot together. From watching Bosworth knock a treat box over for Mozzie who was eagerly waiting below, to the dog digging out one of the noisy cat toys from beneath the fridge. My. Pets.  Plot. Together.

My absolute favorite sock incident just happened. I may as well reference them as "sock incidents". Hubs and I come home from work. I just cleaned the downstairs of our home, save for the one basket of laundry that needed folding.  So imagine us, strolling in, laughing about our new invention of the Prius Punch game, and

 BAM! SOCKPOCALYPSE! SOCKS STREWN ALL ABOUT OUR LIVING ROOM FLOOR.

I did not understand. I still do not understand. I will never understand. An ENTIRE basket of laundry and the only items removed are socks! Is this a sign? What are my pets trying to tell me?