June 09 Movie

(The movie is embedded on my blog, so it won't come up in Reader. You'll have to go to the blog. Oh, and it will take a minute to load. If you don't have QuickTime, you can download it here.)

SuperMom June

I'm out of my element in a home that's not my own, but here are a couple things we did ...

Sidewalk Painting on Sidewalk Chalk (you wouldn't believe the hit this was!)
Newspaper Hats (first we read books with newspaper hats, then we made & colored them)

Sprinklers

Leaf Imprints (A SuperUncle activity)

My little brother Liam is a better mom than I am, I swear. He always comes up with these crazy fun activities to do with the kids, and he dives right in with them. This particular day he was outside playing around with Sease and Lije, and the next thing I knew they were inside with leaves, paper, and crayons, making imprints. If anyone has a 16 year-old sister that they want to set up with him, let me know! ;)

How Firm a Foundation

I didn't mean to ruin her moment in the limelight. I really didn't. But how was I supposed to know that the Primary would be singing her song during their Father's Day program?! See, this year's Primary hymn is How Firm a Foundation. And we've been singing it as a bedtime lullaby for months. The kids know all the words and just beam every time we sing it at church. Well, we left Maryland before the Primary program, and when they had one this last Sunday at our ward here in Utah, I didn't send Seara up because I figured she wouldn't know the songs (since we've only been here a few weeks). WRONG. She loves having an audience to perform for, and I accidentally stole her moment of glory.

Well, to make that up to her (because obviously she is devastated, and it would completely relieve her to see that I did a blog post about her, since the blog means so much to her .... you are sensing the making-fun-of-myself sarcasm, right?), here she is in early April singing her favorite song. Thanks to my over-active guilt/child-fairness complex, I also videotaped Elijah (just now). You know, to be fair. Not to steal Seara's thunder. Blast. This whole being fair thing is hard.

Oh, did you want to follow along? Here are the lyrics:

How Firm a Foundation

How firm a foundation
Ye Saints of the Lord,
Is laid for your faith
In his excellent word.
What more can he say
Than to you he hath said?
Who unto the Savior,
Who unto the Savior,
Who unto the Savior,
For refuge have fled.

ps. I have no clue why both of them decided to be silly at the end of the song (Seara whispering, Elijah singing in baby-talk). Kids!

I'm from Utah

panorama of my parent's backyard view - click to enlarge

The first time I remember encountering the, "Where are you from?" question was as a freshman at BYU. At first I always answered "Utah," just for simplicity's sake. I had moved quite a bit and generally didn't feel like explaining all that to strangers. Plus, I had spent about 8 years living in Utah, and my parents lived here, so it made sense.

I quickly discovered something: when I said I was from Utah a lot of people started making automatic assumptions about me. Like that I was naive. That I didn't know much about the world. That I had no experience with cultural, racial, and religious diversity. And that upset me. I felt certain that I had had significantly more cultural, racial, and religious experiences than many of them had! After all, I spent half my life in South America and the Caribbean. I lived in five different countries growing up; three were Hispanic, one Afro-Latino. I attended a Catholic private school for two years. And my two best friends in elementary school were an orthodox Jew from Israel and a devout Hindu from India.

But the assumptions bothered me, and eventually I just stopped admitting that I was from Utah. I became embarrassed by it. For six years. Then we moved to Maryland.

Suddenly I was on the outside looking in again. And I realized something: people are people. They are essentially the same wherever you go. Most 'Utah Mormon' complaints are foibles of human nature, not Utahns or Mormons. The same human dynamics happen in Utah as happen everywhere else in the world. Sure, some people in Utah are innocent and perhaps naive because of their religiosity, but you find the same thing among Catholics, Baptists, Evangelicals, Jews, Muslims, Hindus, or whatever religion. And I don't think that is necessarily a bad thing! Sure, there are some quirks in Utah that crack me up. (Like why so many women dye their hair platinum blond. Not bad, just interesting.) The thing is, every place in the world has some strange quirks. I mean, according to the CDC Baltimore is the STD capital of the US. How not cool is that? Honestly. And I love Baltimore.

So you know what? I love Utah. I may raise my family here. I may not. But I'd be happy either way.

Bitter About Earrings

I think little babies with earrings look precious - so feminine and so pretty. But I didn't pierce Seara's ears when she was an infant. Let me tell you why.

I'm not a "If God wanted holes in your ears he would have put them there himself" sort of person, although my grandpa was. I'm not a "I just don't want to have to deal with that on top of everything else" sort of person, although my sister is. And, I'm not a "They need to be old enough to take care of it themselves" sort of person, although my friend is.

No, I'm just bitter. Here's why.

When I was 5 and my sister Cara was 7, she got her ears pierced. Obviously I wanted mine pierced sooooo badly at the same time. That's what we tag-a-long, copy-cat little sisters do. My parents told me I had to wait until I was 7, too.

So I waited.

For two loooong years.

When I turned 7 my parents pushed it back yet another year. Boohoo! Finally, at the ripe old age of 8, I got my ears pierced. Of course, my own tag-a-long, copy-cat, 5 year-old little sister, Lissa, wanted hers done at the same time. And of course, my parents told her she had to wait until she was 8. Oh wait. No they didn't. No, they let her pierce hers at 5. I've been bitter ever since.

So when Seara was born I didn't pierce her ears. No, I'm waiting. For her to ask me. That way I can say,

YES!

ps. You don't really think I'm bitter, do you? DO YOU? Because I'm not. Just a reminder: take all dramatic things Janae says with a grain of salt!

Wheat Bread

When I met Sam he was completely granola. He drank power protein drinks for breakfast. Everything he bought was fat free (and tasted like cardboard, I might add). And he ate brown rice and wheat bread. I know. Weird.

Okay, okay, it's probably not weird to everyone. But to this white bread, white rice, full fat, milk shake girl, that was weird.

Well, as soon as I graduated from BYU, I became the full-time homemaker. And the full-time cook. Which meant I got to choose what foods we ate. Power protein drinks - OUT! Anything that said 'fat free' or 'low fat' - OUT! Brown rice - OUT! Wheat bread - [hesitate] ... well, I felt bad ousting everything. You know, marriage is about give and take. Sam gave up everything else, I ought to take up something.

And that is how I became a wheat eater.

Top 10 Things We Miss About Maryland

10) DC License Plates - The Revolutionary soldiers used the slogan against the Brits; the DC-ites use it against Congress. But how on earth did it get approved this time around?!


9) The License Plate Game - Forget long trips, back east you can play the game any time you get in the car! We'd see eight or ten different states just driving to church.


8) Highly Intellectual Church Meetings - Holy hannah, smart people. Church was full of big words and scientific concepts. I definitely grew brain cells in this ward! But I still stick by my previous comment, "I already wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed or the brightest crayon in the box, but dang. In this shed I think I'd be a wheelbarrow and in this box I'm probably puce." Picture below are our closest friends (love you guys!) from Maryland, Guy and Michelle. Both have PhDs. Case. in. point.


7) The Washington DC Temple - Just a reminder that the DC temple is in Maryland, thereby making me cooler.


6) Hardee's - [sigh] Yes, I miss this place more than the DC temple. It's true. I can go to the temple in Utah, but NOTHING compares to Hardee's charbroiled burgers. (Not even Carl's Jr, which shares the same logo.)


5) Really, Really Hard Rain - Hey, Utah! You thought these last two weeks were hard rain? Dream on! You ain't seen nothin yet!!


4) Amazing Architecture - Out west, old buildings are a hundred years old. Back east, old buildings are 300 years old. Amazing.


3) Baltimore - What a unique place. Such character, such craziness, such charm. Man, I love that city!


2) The Proximity to DC - Seriously, when will I ever again be able to hop, skip, and jump to a historian's paradise? You could go every week and never get sick of that place.


1) Ever Green - I stuck my arm out of the car and took this picture. No photoshop, no nothing. That's just what it looked like. On the five minute drive from a friend's place to ours. No place on earth has more oxygen than the East!

the Expert Bowler

I love bowling.

I love putting on my bowling shoes and parading around like we're having a goofy shoe fashion show. I love picking my ball, preferably a bright colored one with crazy swirls. I love choosing a screen name - things like Amazon Woman, Nunchuk Queen, and Storm Crusher. I love twirling around in those fun, rounded chairs while I wait for my turn. And I love finding new and unique ways to bowl, like between the legs, left-handed, backwards, upside down, and soccer style.

Why, you ask, do I make bowling such clown sport? Well, because I'm ROTTEN at it.

The first time I bowled after my mission I was with a boy who didn't find my antics amusing, so I toned it down and played seriously. I tried hard. I really did. But I still bowled a 56.

The next time I went was on a date with my older sister's high school crush. I was on a quest to impress. Not because I liked the kid, but because my sister was an angel and I didn't want to give her a bad name. So, in mature adult style, I warned the boy and all his friends that I really enjoyed bowling but I wasn't good, so they shouldn't feel bad about my rotten score because I'd still have fun. Once they were adequately warned, we started the game. When my turn came I decided to try bowling over-handed (instead of the traditional underhanded throw). I picked up the ball, took up a professional stance, walked, swung, and threw the ball. Then I turned around and walked back, refusing to watch my ball hit the gutter five feet in. Suddenly everyone screamed and cheered. I twirled around to look back at the ball, but it was gone. Oddly enough, so were the pins. Holy cow, I just got a strike! Well, that was odd. Beginner's luck, I assured everyone. Five turns and one turkey later, I was in shock. When I ended the game with eight strikes and a score of 185, I was certain that I had struck gold. I had found the key to successful bowling! I was on my way to having my name written on one of those 'Top Score' boards!

The next time I went bowling I was ready to rock the world. No apologies for amusing antics, no preparing people for my pitiful score. I marched in, ready to impress, excited to show off my stuff.

And I bowled a 56.

It's a Girl Thing

Something about big life events makes me want to change my identity. I don't do it consciously, I just do it. In college whenever I had a break-up, I'd randomly decide to cut my hair. If you put two and two together, you might notice that our deciding to move to Maryland last year and my cutting nearly two feet of hair off happened around the same time. Hmmm ... I didn't do it purposely, but I don't think it was coincidental! Well, our first morning here in Utah I woke up and styled my hair in a way I had never done before. You know, just cuz I thought it might be fun. I've been doing it like that ever since.

me with mission comps Heidi Edwards and Ruth Grey

Well, apparently this identity change quirk is a girl thing, because ever since we left Maryland Seara has refused to be called 'Seara.' Don't even try. She'll just yell at you, "I'm not Seara! I'm Sisi!" So in Primary at our new ward they introduced her as Sisi. And that's what everyone calls her now.

apparently the top of the couch is the best place to watch movies

Home At Last

CROSS COUNTRY TRIP
SUMMARY

Total Miles: 3,137
Miles Per Gallon: 35
Total Gas Cost: $213.26
Estimated Time: 48:45 hours
Actual Time: 68:15 hours
States Visited: 14

Boy are we glad to be done!!

Cross Country Trip, Day 9

DAY 9: My Husband Tries to Kill Me

Location: Billings, Montana

Destination: Sandy, Utah
Miles: 564
Estimated Time: 9:15 hours
Actual Time: 10 hours
Potty Stops: 1

Before Sam tried to kill me, we had decided to go through Yellowstone. We saw some deer and a bald eagle. And then there were the bison ...


Full grown bison are taller than our car and about 3/4 as wide. They are HUGE. So when we took that picture and Sam commented on how cool it was to be 10 feet away, I couldn't help but reply that while it was cool, I never, ever, ever wanted to be closer than that. Not an hour later we were on our way out of the park and we noticed a ranger car on the other side of the street driving reeeeeeeeeeally slowly, with a mile long trail of cars inching behind him. What on earth?!

And then I saw them. Walking down the street towards us were two GIGANTIC bison, blocked in by a hill on one side and the row of cars on the other. Sam slowed down, but kept driving toward them as my eyes turned to saucers. Luckily one of the cars on the other side stopped and created an opening for us to pull in the other lane while the bison passed.

me: Sam! There, on the left! Pull in!
Sam: We're fine, Janae.
me: No, seriously! Pull to the left!
Sam: Janae, we're fine.
me: Sam!! Pull to the left!!
[silence]
me: Sam. We're gonna die. Pull. to. the. left.
Sam: Janae, we're fine. They're just like big cows. We'll just stop and they'll go around us.
Janae: You're crazy! They're bison! Their horns are as big as my arms! They're gonna kill us! The people opened up to let us in. Please, please, please pull to the left!

Unfortunately, Sam had it out for me and didn't pull to the left. In fact, he kept inching forward. Finally he stopped when the bison were about ten feet away. The bison reached our front bumper and then turned slightly to the left. As they brushed passed our side view mirror, and I panicked. Then they passed on. Apparently Sam was right. We were fine.

But I swear he was trying to kill me.