Sunday, December 27, 2009

Christmas Checklist

Cute new boots I'm sure the early Nazareth(ites) would have worn had they had access to a JCPenney - CHECK!


An in-town husband (something all too rare these days), a girl (fairly more common to see than the husband), and a boy (a little too common around here if you catch my drift) - CHECK!


A Jewish blessing complete with Menorah - CHECK!


Presents under the tree - CHECK!


General merriment complete with present opening obstacles, such as being blindfolded...


wearing mittens...


having your hands tied...


or using tongs - CHECK!


A surprise present for the twins...


more information here:


A swollen knee that has doubled in size over the past two weeks that was thought to be a meniscus tear, then was downgraded to a capsule tear, and is now currently diagnosed as having a piece of errant cartilage that was dislodged after standing two weeks ago (yes I've been dealing with this for two weeks, and yes, all I did was stand up), and will maybe, probably, I don't know, really can't say, require surgery - CHECK!


A thankfulness that 2010 will see me much happier than I was when 2009 ended - CHECK!

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

Thursday, November 26, 2009

Thanksgiving Checklist

Cute new shoes I'm sure the pilgrims would have worn had they had access to a Kohl's - CHECK!

Pilgram Shoes

A dish to bring - CHECK!

An in-town husband - CHECK!


A superhero/clown/lasso wielding cowboy - CHECK!


An 8 year old - CHECK!

emma 8

Skewed depth perception due to a scratched cornea - CHECK!


An empathetic family - CHECK!


My very own "Mad Eye" Moody eyeball - CHECK!

eye 1

A thankfulness that by Sunday I will have stopped putting my pants on backwards and running into walls - CHECK!

Saturday, November 21, 2009

Thursday, November 19, 2009

Anybody got a sharp ax I can flash around?

Our stupid, worthless chickens have currently taken a hiatus from laying eggs. For whatever reason, the colder climate has them convinced they're entitled to some sort of sabbatical one gets after earning tenure. Time outs aren't working, nor are my stern looks. However, they have been molting for the past few weeks and have generously left their feathers strewn about the pen. Rather than being mortified by their appearance and hanging their beaks in shame, they prance around and mockingly suggest that I use their feathers to stuff a pillow for my sissy head. I guess laying eggs while exposed to the harsh Arizona climate somehow makes them hard-core and I'm some sort of house-dwelling mamby pants. I've decided to put the food dish on top of their coop. I will very much enjoy watching them flap their useless wings in an attempt to reach their daily rations - a perfect reminder that poultry = pathetic.

Sunday, November 8, 2009

It's as if women's lib never exsisted

As I was driving down Mill Avenue yesterday morning, I came upon a sea of pink-shirted individuals with catchy phrases written across their chestical area:



When did this happen? When did it become socially acceptable to refer to your cantaloupes as anything other than breasts? I'm at odds as to whether I think it's a very creative way to peak interest in the safety of my num nums, or a dumbed down solution to raise money in the name of milk jug research. All I know is that badoinkie cancer is serious business.

Thursday, August 20, 2009

Giving Away

There are currently a few crafty items in my house that I've no use for. After dispersing what I can amongst friends, I've still got some left over items that are cluttering my home and mind. If you'd like any, please leave a comment letting me know which item(s) you'd like, and next week I'll randomly pick a number and make known who the lucky beneficiaries are. If you live out of state, I'd be happy to mail them to you free of charge (seriously, you're doing me a favor by taking them) unless you live in Zanzibar or something. We'll have to talk in that case. If I'm freaky enough to have lurkers, feel free to de-lurk.

I have two sets of Advent Christmas Stockings in various Christmas paper. Last year, every morning from Dec 1 to Dec 24, Emma pulled one off of a ribbon. On the back of each stocking, I had written an activity for us to do that evening (write letters to Santa, decorate the tree, etc). I'll provide you with the paper stockings, a list of activity ideas, and a set of mini clothespins.


This is my set from last year to give you an idea of how they look hung.

Advent Calendar

I have the VINYL ONLY for this board. I can give you instructions on how the board was completed if you plan on making one. You could always just stick the vinyl on the wall above where you hang your stockings.

Stocking Board

1 FAMILY set of photo holder binder clips


1 FRIEND set of photo binder clips


1 cute picture of Emma as a baby


I have two sets of these laminated babies. They're perfect for little hands to flip through after you've exhausted your supply of fishy crackers on Sundays. I think there's about fifty different ads in each set. Each card is 4x6 (don't quote me on that).


Tuesday, August 11, 2009

Back to...

...having to leave the house no later than 8:28am in order to make it on time.

...eating a banana and toast in the car on the way.

...praying that I catch the green arrow to turn left.

...embarrassing encounters (like, say, being pulled over for speeding) with other adults that include me bra-less, wearing Clint's size 11 running shoes because they were the closest thing to the door.

...embarrassing encounters (like, say, driving into the back of someone's car) with other adults that include me bra-less, shoe-less because there were no shoes close to the door.

...frantic searches for my sunglasses to hide the mascara smudges around my eyes.

Back to school

Friday, July 31, 2009

I've got to get at least one post in for July

A crafty friend of mine decided our today would be much better spent channeling the urban, uber-hip spirit we both have in our souls, the spirit we sometimes feel trying to claw her way up from underneath the pile of crushed Cheerios and dried-out markers. It takes a huge incentive for me to warrant skipping Asher's nap (I paid dearly for it tonight), but escaping the suburban storefronts in lieu of eclectically painted exteriors was incentive enough. Regardless of the fact that our quasi adventure took place in a minivan (my zippy red don'teverwanttotradeitinforaminvan civic would have aided in our guise, but alas, with four children between the both of us, it was a necessary evil, if evil is considered having rear air conditioning and plenty of leg room), I think we played it off well. Our first stop was Smeeks candy shop located in downtown Phoenix.

(Photo not courtesy of me. I hope that's all the copyright lingo necessary)

It's a super-duper cute little store filled with all the vintage inspired goodies your heart could wish for. Before entering the store, my uber-hip friend (we gave ourselves new personalities for the day and uber-hip sounded better than craftily-hippy) listed the rules to her children (no touching, no begging, basically don't act you age), and I lazily said "Draney children, ditto", and if all the rules were met, we would reward them with a trip to Urban Cookies. It's sometimes all about what gets you through the experience, and rewarding good behavior at a candy shop with the candy that you bought from the candy shop didn't occur to us. Or, we just really wanted some cookies that were urban. The rules were broken (they acted their age, the little heathens), but not visiting Urban Cookies would have nixed all our urbanitedness that we'd been so carefully nurturing all day. While we hip moms dined on gourmet cupcakes, our little ones quickly ate their ice cream sandwiches before they melted. When asked if they were happy with the day's events, one of the little ones responded, as ice cream was running down their arms, that "this was not a good idea". Oh well. At least we adults felt like our urber-hip spirits were smiling, and I think mine was enjoying the rear air in the minivan as well. And hey, it turns out that the necessary evil of taking the minivan was kismet, because what urban mom experience doesn't include a drive by browsing of the furniture located in the parking lot of an antique store? Browsing quickly turned to buying, and my totally cute vintage bookshelf would not have fit in my waytoosmallbutstillnotgettingaminivan civic's trunk. We ended our uber-hip, SOCIETY'S RULES SUCK! AND WE WILL NOT CONFORM TO YOUR STEREOTYPES! day by sitting on the floor of my crafty friend's sewing room, making yo yos for a pillow. For now, suburban spirit is grateful she's back, and smiling at me as I made two different dinners tonight out of leftovers. She also gave me a high five when I graciously let me husband leave me home alone on a Friday night, with an overly tired, screaming 3 year old, so that he could shop for power tools. See you tomorrow at Target. (oh, she just patted my bum)

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

What we do

Oh sure, while camping, I could fill my time with nature hikes, bug collecting, star gazing, etc., but have you met me? This is what I do.


And sure, you can bring different activities for the kids to occupy themselves with, things to keep their little hands busy, but have you met our kids? This is what they did. With a brand new croquet set.


Emma was dedicated to having a picnic of tree sap.

And, since we don't drink, we try to find other recreational activities to fill our time with.



Okay, okay, you can call off PETA. It's not like I swatted a fly or something. Geez people, what kind of a monster do you think I am? We were aiming for the tree on the left. And if not, so what? It's not like we were sling-shotting water balloons towards them. It was, uh, big balls of grass and other stuff, you know, like some leftover alfalfa and corn from our lunch. The woods aren't really known for having much vegetation, so, you know, we thought we'd help the poor guys out. Come on, they wouldn't stop staring at us. It was starting to bug.



I know. You can't get over the shock. But I promise the cows are alive and well and continuing to produce more cow pies for other unsuspecting campers to pitch their tents on, so chilax.

Our only crime was that we saved these beauties for ourselves.


Where's the flood, Clint?

Clint's Pants

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Emma's Dance Recital

A few stumbles occurred, but overall it was a success. Yet again, I'm waffling as to whether she should continue taking classes. The lazy mom in me wants to keep her home, reading all afternoon.

Emma's Recital from Jaylee Draney on Vimeo.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Our 2nd Harvest

Our Armenian Cucumber


You know what they say about Armenians.....

Cuc 2

.... they have big salads.

Cuc 3

yes, I know you can see my underoos

Monday, June 15, 2009

Asher Jack




It's no secret that Asher was not a planned-for child. Nor is it a secret that I wasn't, shall we say, thrilled that he was going to be of the "male variety". It was a difficult pregnancy to endure, but only because I choose to make it difficult. I was a grumpy, wretched person to be around. While pregnant with Asher, I couldn't wrap my head around the fact that I would be the parent to a boy. In the last 3 or 4 generations of my family, the only men around were there by marriage, not by birth. And because I didn't grow up with an available father, I didn't learn whatever that characteristic is that encourages you to enjoy boys and all their idiosyncrasies. I couldn't get past the fact that most boys seemed to be rough, gun-loving, smelly creatures who didn't wipe their noses and had icky boy parts. But none of that mattered. Following Asher's birth, I fell in love with him, and I immediately mourned for those last/lost 9 months; 9 months that I choose to live in that miserable state. I've since learned how to parent a boy, a boy who is the epitome of boy-ness, a boy so completely opposite of his sister. When Asher was young, I fooled myself into thinking that I could replace those male tendencies with cupcake making and bird watching, but he didn't fall for it. Asher inherently seems to be able to manipulate any toy into some sort of weapon, he's loud, he's rough, he's aggressive, but he's as sweet and loving as they come. Whereas before I shunned any type of male paraphernalia i.e. shirts that said "Mommy's Little Monster", I find myself naturally adding dump trucks and tool sets to my Amazon shopping cart. Now, I can't imagine life any other way.

Sunday, May 24, 2009

They sure are pretty though

Our 1st harvest.


Too bad radishes taste like crap and dirt.

Friday, May 1, 2009

He looks a little tall, don't you think?

Ahhh, how sweet. Clint and Asher are husking corn together.  It's amazing how tall Asher's gotten, isn't it?


I love it when the both of them bond over woman's work.

It's nice to see my husband partake in learning activities with the kids. If I were not around, say, on account of my brain tumor reoccurring, I'm confident that Clint would provide the kids with a loving, nurturing, and most importantly, safe environment.


Or maybe just an environment...

...where grilled corn is the only thing for dinner.


I guess I can never die.

Tuesday, April 28, 2009

It's just all too much, people, really

Seriously guys, it's more than I can handle.

I'm on the in with way too many famous people. It's hard for me to keep up with all the Facebook friendship requests, emails, check the box yes or no if you want to be my friend letters, phone calls, etc. I need to start implementing some type of lottery system since the number of celebs flocking to my doorstep is more than I can handle.

Wait a second. You question me? You question the feasibility that I have many illustrious acquaintances? Do you need a breakdown, a play by play, a bullet pointed presentation?

---- Well, firstly, I'm a descendant of Mary, Queen of Scots, which practically makes me modern day royalty. If the Scottish government still recognized their royal family, I would be, like, 2,745th in line to the throne. I bet that's closer than you, you measly commoner.

Mary Scots

Seriously, the resemblance is uncanny. If she were alive today, we'd be sharing ruffs and doing each others hair.

---- Secondly, long ago, I had a deep, meaningful relationship with David Hernandez from American Idol.

"David Hernan-who?" you ask.

He was on American Idol, season I have no idea, and he made it through, like, two cuts or something. He has some night club gig here in town where they serve fancy stuff like Margaritas and Mohitos, and he has his own Wikipedia page. You know you've made it big when you're on Wikipedia. Not just anyone can post on Wikipedia. Or anyone can. I can't remember how that works. For the sake of my argument, only cool people are on Wikipedia. Anydoodle, the several times David and I spoke while working on opposite sides of the floor at Chase Bank were some of the most intense, deep conversations I've ever had. We actually made eye contact, if you can believe it. Three distinct encounters are burned into my subconscious:

"Jaylee," David said, excitedly. "Do you have any paper?"

"Yes," I answered.

"Jaylee," David said, provocatively. "The bathroom has no toilet paper. Can you call maintenance?"

"Yes," I answered.

"Jaylee," David said, earth-shatteringly. "The paper you provided gave me a paper cut. Do you have a band-aid

"Yes," I answered.


All the photographer had to say was "Think about all the paper clips Jaylee has given you," and then he snapped this shot. Is there nothing sexier than a man's armpit hair? I would venture to say there's not.

Come on people? How much more proof do you need?

---- Thirdly, and I'm not sure what the draw is, American Idol alums seem to be lining up outside my door (of the building I go to church at). I know you know (even though I didn't know) who David Archuleta is. Well, and you may want to sit down for this, David actually SAT THROUGH AN ENTIRE SACRAMENT MEETING IN OUR WARD! He was sitting right in back of me, I'm sure the entire time looking at my hair. I'm thankful I remembered to rinse and repeat that morning. He came, we dined on bread and water together, and then unfortunately he had to leave before the teenage girls flocked to him for an autographed picture of me. He promised that he would remember our brief hour together; there's a reason his song is named Crush.

---- Fourthly, I'm not just famous amongst the celebrities. I also have many politicians in my back pocket. I once ate breakfast in the booth next to Tempe Mayor Hugh Hallman, and the mayor of Honolulu almost came to our ward for church. Did you hear that? ALMOST CAME TO OUR WARD FOR CHURCH! That's closer than you've ever gotten to churching with Honolulu Mayor What'sHisName.

---- Fifthly, look who I'm bestest friends with in the whole wide world. MybestfriendsAprilandRyanSauerarefamous. That's right, my closest friends on the entire Mother Earth are featured in the May issue of Phoenix Home and Garden, which like, everybody subscribes to, right? April and I are tight. We're like this (I'm crossing my fingers right now). She recently asked me to bake her two loaves of banana bread. Not one, but two! How lucky am I? We've painted each others toenails and pillow fought in our underwear (wait....have I crossed over into Ryan's fantasies?), and she recently left her son's shoes at my house.


That's how BFF we are. She actually trusts me to care for her son's shoes. They'll be up on Ebay in a few days if you want to bid. Under my advice and direction, they've started a blog to showcase their many crunchy granola lifestyle choices. You can check it out here.

---- Sixthly and lastly, it's worth mentioning that my friend's therapist is best friends with Stephanie Meyer's best friend, and my aunt once dated a family member of the girl who was in Point Break and A League of Their Own. So, I practically know Keanu Reeves and Madonna. I call Stephanie, Steph.

And so ends the proof. Due to the various renowned acquaintances I have, I myself am glossy 8x10 ready. Now, who wants to be my publicist? Does anybody want my leftover banana peel?

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Asher eating eggs from our chickens with a plastic fork



Here's to a day full of ironies.