We're out of hands.

Pictures with kids, Christmas or otherwise, require some serious maneuvering. If, for example, you ignore the kids and just make sure the adults look normal, the kids turn out like this:

On a side note, we had a guys v. girls gingerbread house competition, which do you think should win? Left or right?

The must-do Christmas Eve pj picture. It took a half dozen takes to get a picture with Enoch still in place the kids generally facing the camera. The fact that none of them are looking at it is beside the point.


Then there's the Christmas morning, pre-presents picture. It may look like Elijah's squished face was an accident. Let me assure you, it was not. It took two hand for me to keep Enoch still, two hands for Sam to keep Seara still, and since there were no hands left, two knees to keep Elijah still. I'm impressed that he managed to have such a smiley face!

Ty, Lis, Sev, Li, me, Sam, Nic, Lije, Sease

Then, occasionally, there will be one miraculous picture where the majority of people are actually cooperating. In this case, four of five. That is a small miracle for our family!


And since we're now two months past the holiday, let me be the first to wish you a Merry Christmas 2010!

Mediocre Me

I don't really have any beauty pageant talents. I don't play the piano, or any instrument for that matter. I don't act. I don't draw. I don't sing (well, I don't sing well). I don't dance. At all. Remember? Electrocution in action. That's me on the dance floor. And I don't do any sports. I'm pretty much your typical old lamo-shmaymo. And I am SO fine with that. Mediocre, that's me.


Unfortunately, I married into my antithesis family. Everyone in Sam's family has like a billion talents. That they are incredibly good at. As in they get scholarships to college for them. They all have beautiful voices. All excel in either sports or dance. Every single one of them can act. Most play instruments and many can either draw, carve, or paint. Even my bro-in-law's new wife sings, dances, and plays the violin. I'm pretty much the fuddy duddy of the family. Why did Sam marry me again?!

Well, this last Christmas I embraced my lameness. As a Christmas present to Sam's parents, I put on a talent show. We decorated the room, took pictures on the red carpet, served dinner, and then the show began. Everyone did these amazing talents. Singing, dancing, acting, instrumenting, they did it all.

And this is what I did:

ps. I also recited the children's book Fanny's Dream by Mark & Caralyn Buehner, but it was about 7 minutes - waaaaay to long to put on a blog. Had to admit that, just for honesty's sake. :)

Homolovi

When I was a teenager I had a few favorite thinking spots. I think everyone does. I came to that conclusion because I have them, and so does Sam. Therefore, everyone does. Nice cross section of society, eh? Obviously I never took stats in college.

See this little mesa? Unpresuming, right?


This is one of Sam's favorite thinking spots. When he was a teenager he used to run out to this mesa. Driving by it on the highway, you wouldn't think it was anything special. But as you get closer, though, you might see this:


Start climbing and you'll find huge hanging rocks:


Then suddenly there are walls and frames everywhere:


From above you can look down and actually see a light outline of this small pueblo. The home of the Virgin Anasazi people, who emerged around AD 1 and were completely obliterated by AD 1200.

Sam, me, Paige (who I'm desperately hoping will marry Sam's bro because I want her for my sis'n'law), Joe, Mary, Anna, and Paul. Paul's wife Steph is taking the picture.

The place is pretty amazing. So much so, that over Thanksgiving Sam convinced all his siblings to venture out there with us. He's nice. I don't share my thinking spots.

So, so, so behind

All through January people kept saying on their blogs, "I know it's late, but I have to blog about Christmas!" Now all of that has past and I feel really dumb saying this. But I have these pictures ... and I just have to blog about our pre-Thanksgiving vacation. And Christmas. And New Years. Yeah, I'm only a tad behind.


Bryce Canyon



Pointing out over the overlook...
Elijah: I died over there.
Sam & I: [baffled silence]


Looks warm in those pictures above, huh? Yeah. It wasn't. Who else, other than me, would take their kids hiking in snow? Some times I wonder at my own sanity. And Sam's as well. Something must be wrong with him if he married me willingly.


Zions

Why is it that a picture can never do justice to how amazing something looks? I gotta get a better camera. We loved Zions. It was gorgeous.


The pic of Seara below is my personal favorite. I don't know that I even took it on purpose. No matter how hard I try, my accidents always turn out better than my genuine attempts.


Next time I think we might try vacationing when it's actually WARM outside!

I have no shame

I want you to take a good look at my glasses in this picture (October 2007). Notice anything strange?


No? If you look carefully, on the right side of my glasses you'll notice a small, dull, black bulge. Electrical tape. My kids broke my glasses, and it was the perfect repair. In fact, some time after this picture, the left side joined the right. I wore those glasses, with electrical tape discreetly fixing them, for a year. But, alas, my kids finally broke the glasses in the middle. And that was irreparable (well, at least to wear publicly). So I got these new glasses in August 2009:


I wisely chose black, knowing my luck with electrical tape. And when the side snapped, I grabbed my trusty tape and fixed them right up. Unfortunately, my mom couldn't bear my wearing taped up glasses. It was some kind of minor tragedy to her. (Not to me. I could wear taped up glasses forever and not give a hoot.) So, at her insistence, I just got these two new pairs:


I decided to be rebellious and I traded in my old black standard for brown. What do you think?

Oh, and in case you were wondering, YES. I do always pull my hair back. The last couple years have been a fluke -- my hair was simply too short to pull back. I only ever do a down 'do for Sunday and pictures. So now you know my secret. My pictures are fake. I prep for them. I don't look like that in real life. I have received several comments on how cute I looked on my mission (that, or on how fat my face was or how awful my eyebrows looked), but the truth is, it was a total lie. I just got cute on the days we were taking pictures. Otherwise, a little mascara and a pony sufficed. And it still does. :)

10 things I wish I had known ...

before marriage

5 things I wish I had known before I got married ....

1. Wrapping chopped onions in aluminum foil keeps the entire fridge from smelling like onions.
2. You can buy garlic pre-minced in a jar.
3. When covering pie crusts, folding a square of aluminum foil in fourths and then tearing off the inside corner (similar to how you do a paper snowflake) is much easier that trying to keep small strips of foil on the pie tin.
4. Onion powder is a quick and easy substitute for chopped onions when you're in a hurry (1 small onion = 1/3 cup chopped onions = 1 tablespoon dried onion flakes = 1 teaspoon onion powder).
5. Chocolate and blood come out with cold water, koolaid and berries (including cranberry juice and grape juice) come out with hot water.

after marriage, but before children

5 things I wish I had known before I had kids ....

1. Morning sickness has nothing to do with mornings. (Although I really hate when I mention that I had pretty awful morning sickness, only to have women respond to me, "Well, I had all-day sickness!" Oooh, guess what. So does everyone else. Sorry, but 'morning sickness' is the universally accepted term for illness in the first trimester, whether or not it happens in the morning.)
   
2. Labor is easier if you exercise periodically before you get pregnant. It is significantly easier if you still exercise while you are pregnant.
3. Nursing a baby is nearly as miserable and painful as labor for the first few weeks (despite all the insistence that it's not supposed to hurt) but it is easy-peasy afterward.
4. HOT water quickly and easily removes newborn mustard-colored poop stains.
5. Rinsing rags thoroughly in cold water after wiping up milk or milk-based spills keeps the rags from reeking.

No Wonder She Asked If I Was Pregnant!

Does Fast Sunday do this to anyone else besides me??!

ps. In case you failed to read the post this title refers to, this is not an announcement. I'm not expecting anything, baby or otherwise.

Heard at Our House

This is Seara's preferred picture face. That I have any pictures of her smiling is a minor miracle.

Seara - 4.5 yrs, 3'4", 35 lbs
Elijah - 3.5 yrs, 3'4", 36 lbs
Enoch - 1.5 yrs, 2'6", 27 lbs

Seara: When I grow up I'm going to be a ballet dancer.
Elijah: When I grow up I'm going to be a bat and have wings.

At the Barnes and Noble play area ...
Seara: Hi, I'm Seara, what's your name?
Kid: [some name]
[they play for a while, then Elijah walks up]
Seara: This my brother, Elijah.
Elijah: Nice to meet you.

Seara: Mommy, today is grandma's birthday! Happiest day in her whole wide life! [Grandma's birthday is not for several months.]

Elijah: Dad, um, Jesus didn't need a wand.

Seara: Mommy, when you grow up, you're going to be a princess.

Elijah: I was real like a pirate. Arrr!

Sneaking upstairs to daddy's office while mom was cooking dinner ...
Sam: [hearing noise at the door] Elijah, you're not supposed to be up here.
Elijah: Um, dad, I need to tell you something.
Sam: What is it?
Elijah: [slowly walks in to room and whispers into Sam's ear] Dad, mom doesn't like me at all.
Sam: Elijah, Mom loves you.
Elijah: [dejected tone] No, Dad, she doesn't like me at all. She pushed me out of the way.
Sam: I'm pretty sure she loves you, Lije.
Elijah: No, Dad, she doesn't.

(For the record, I have no recollection of ever pushing Elijah, although if I did it probably had something to do with the oven being at 450 degrees and my opening and shutting it repeatedly.)

I'm a jerk.

This morning I went to a friend's house for a little play group with our kids. There was another woman there who I recognized from our neighborhood. I don't really know her, we've never talked and I don't know her name, but I say hi to her if I see her in the hallway at church. So there we are, talking for the very first time. She was (is!) really nice. But about twenty minutes into our conversation the woman asks my friend if she is pregnant. I was surprised, but figured they must be close enough friends to be on those kinds of terms. Then she turned to me and said,

"How old is your youngest?"
"He turned 18 months on January 7th."
"Oh, so it's about time you have another. You're right on track. Are you pregnant?"

I was seriously taken aback. That's a really forward question for anyone, but especially someone I don't even know. What if I were but didn't want anyone to know yet? Or what if I weren't but had really personal reasons? Or what if that is a painful subject? Before I knew what I was saying, I retorted (laughingly, but dead serious),

"That is none of your business!"

She was shocked. So was my friend. Quite frankly, so was I. Blast this stupid talk-before-I-think mouth. The woman quickly replied that she wasn't trying to offend me, and I told her it was no big deal and brushed it off. But now I feel terrible. So off I go to apologize. [sigh]




ps. For the record, I am not pregnant.

Mrs. President

I think we've established several times that I *LOVE* Calvin and Hobbes. I've read every single one, and I keep a digital file of my favorites for when I need a good chuckle. I ran across the file tonight and I just had to share this one. I belly laugh every time I read it, even though I know exactly what's going to happen!

National Parks

Recently one of my cousins mentioned that she had a life goal to visit all the National Parks in the US. "I've visited a ton of National Parks," I thought, "That would be so awesome and I could do it easily!" Ha, ha, ha.

Ha.

Do you know how many National Parks there are? 58. I've been to eleven. But since Sam's only been to eight, I'll have to do those other three again, so we have 50 to go. Here's a map. Sam and I have been to the red ones.

View National Parks in a larger map

But that's not the daunting part. The problem is that EIGHT of them are in Alaska. ALASKA. You know, "I can see Russia from my house" Alaska. Cold, ice, snow Alaska. Freeze to death Alaska.

I told all this to my dad and he tells me, "You know, there's a saying, 'Never go to Alaska ... because you'll never leave.' It's really beautiful. And the summer weather is nice." So I looked up the summer weather. The average high in Anchorage during July (the warmest month) is 65 degrees. SIXTY FIVE DEGREES. I still wear a coat when it's 65 degrees! The record high is - prepare for this - 92 degrees. Barely warm enough to go swimming. And that was in 1931. Maybe I can do all eight in one fell swoop during July - and I'll pray for a record-setting heat wave.

All this thinking about ice is making me cold. I'm going to go put on a coat.

not the girl of his dreams

we like to race. especially to grocery stores. we are planning to stop before our kids are old enough to be embarrassed. maybe.

The other day Sam went to bed early. When I finally crawled in bed, I laid down on my back so I could stare at the ceiling as I wound down. Sam stirred at the movement, and rolled on to his side so he was right next to me. Then he propped himself up on his elbow so his face hovered over mine. I assumed he was wanting to kiss me good night, so I leaned in to kiss him, but he didn't respond. I dropped my head back down on the pillow. He just sat there, staring at me. After about 20 seconds of this, I finally asked him,

"Sam, what are you doing?"

He paused and then responded, "Trying to figure out who you are."

I hesitated, confused, and finally asked, "Who else would I be?!"

Somewhere in his eyes I saw a small spark of waking up and realizing what was going on. He said nothing, just flopped down and rolled away.

Apparently I'm not the girl of his dreams if he doesn't recognize me in his sleep.

Faux Pas

image by sam, from here

When Sam and I were newlyweds we lived on BYU campus in a complex called Wyview. Almost every Sunday we'd invite a different couple over for dinner, and from those dinners we met some of our dearest friends. Amidst the social success, however, we also had one huge faux pas.

We had invited over a couple who was new in the neighborhood. Things went smoothly during dinner, and once the meal was done, we sat back and chatted over empty dishes. But soon Sam began to worry that the couple was ready to go home and they were only staying because we kept perpetuating the conversation. He wanted to assure them that we were very much enjoying their company, but they could excuse themselves at any time if they needed to go home. So he waited for a lull in conversation, and blurted out,

"Don't you hate when people overstay their welcome?"

[Awkward silence.] Her eyes widened and jaw dropped. His face contorted somewhere between confusion and offense. Sam and I quickly tried to backpedal. But there was no recovery. They went home. And we vacillated between feeling terrible and laughing ourselves silly.

The Ugly Canadian

The good news is that I am officially Canadian! Woohoo, eh! I can finally start teaching my children to say 'zed' rather than 'z'. My mom's family was originally from Canada, and she was born there (although she spend nearly her entire life in California), so I pretty much got in riding on her shirt tails. I plan on using my Canadian passport whenever I travel to countries that hate the US. :)

The bad news is that my picture on my official stuff is hideous. You know, where your first thought is, "WHOA. I am NEVER letting ANYONE see that!" And your second thought is, "That means it is hilarious and I've gotta show everyone!" There are two major problems. First, I was on my mission when the consulate requested the pictures (yeah, it took em a while) so I had a fat face. Second, my eyebrows look like they had a whack job done on them. I'll admit that I've made the mistake of plucking my eyebrows too far apart*, but this one wasn't my fault. I had my eyebrows waxed right before the picture and the lady butchered them. My eyes look so far apart that I'm practically 1/8 fish.


(In case you were worried, by the time I was married I figure the eyebrow thing out. Thank heavens. I don't think I could have nabbed a guy with that fatty fish face. This is much better:)


*Why didn't anyone teach me the rules about eyebrows?!! If you don't know what they are, learn them here. You have to click on 'Begin Shaping!' in the pink bar for the tutorial. Its only 30 seconds and it's wonderful. I'm making Seara watch it as soon as she starts plucking.

Why am I not surprised?

Remember my post Sometimes? Well, the Primary presidency decided they should probably switch things around. Just guess who Elijah's new Primary teachers are ...

Dreams of a Fifteen Year-Old

I was about 15, so my sister Cara must have been 17. She was my chauffeur and best friend. We drove everywhere together, and every time we went down State Street to the Mall, I'd look for it. We'd only ever see it from the street, but every time we drove by I'd stare in awe at the beauty that lay before my eyes. Rolling hills of perfect green grass, small ponds with ducks floating lazily by, hundreds of gorgeously weeping trees, all framed by majestic mountains rising above the idyllic scene. It was perfect.

"I'm having my wedding reception there," I'd tell Cara each time we drove by. "I'm having an outdoor wedding reception in that park."

"It is beautiful," she'd agree, and I'd smile.

Then one day everything changed. We were driving by and, as usual, I was pasted to the window in a dreamy adoration. Suddenly I saw a sign in front of the reception center located on those gorgeous grounds.


"Lake Hills (what a perfect name!) ... Cemetery/Mortuary."

My eyes widened in shock. I sat there in utter disbelief and silence. And then I laughed until I cried.

Sometimes

Sometimes I start thinking that I'm a pretty great mother ...

and then my three year old screams "I don't like you!" and hits his new Primary teacher and makes her cry ...

and I'm swiftly brought back down to earth.

New Years Resolutions

Blog? What is blog? I do not know what that word means. (If you can name the book that is inspired from you'll be my new best friend.)

So I've been conspicuously absent for a while. And unfortunately, I'm not making any resolutions to be better at blogging. (I guess if you think my blog is boring you might be cheering right now. :) But every year since I've had the blog I've reported on my New Years Resolutions, and I hate to break tradition. First, though, Calvin and Hobbes. New Years wouldn't be New Years without 'em ...

2009 Goal Report:
1. Read the Book of Mormon a minimum of 30 minutes every day
PASS. Didn't miss a day all year. I did, however, alter the goal a bit so I could read the Bible, General Conference talks, and such as well, but the idea is the same.

2 .Pray sincerely every morning and every night all year
PASS. I give my self points for sincerity, not quality, cuz MAN there were some mornings when I tried so hard to say good prayers but it all came out as incomprehensible blabberings!

3. Go to the temple every month
PASS. Nuf said.

4. Read the Sunday School lessons before church each week
FAIL. And a miserable fail at that. I'm trying to remember if I ever did this. I don't think I did it once. Ever. Oops.

2010 Goals:

1. Catch up on my Conference mini-goals
   
2. Write down more of my spiritual experiences
3. Read the Sunday School and Relief Society lessons before church each week (I've made this goal every year since I got married and have yet to do it. Here's for try number five!)
   
4. Be a more patient, gentle, and kind mother (can my goal be any more vague?!)
5. Criticize less and compliment more
   
6. 30 minutes of scriptures a day
7. [too private to share - ya didn't think I had those kinds of things, did ya?!]
8. No swearing. Ever. Period. (Okay, so now you know the truth. I've been known to say some Biblical swear words when I'm angry. But not any more, dash it all!)
   
9. Read my Patriarchal Blessing every Fast Sunday
10. Improve my posture*

*Here's the problem: my partner hunch back has decided to fix his posture. I have begged and pleaded for him to not do it because I have no intention of fixing my own, but he has insisted. We looked fine together when we both slouched. Unfortunately, we can no longer pull off the cute couple in their 90's look if Sam doesn't slouch with me. I just look like I'm his pet monkey. So I'm thinking about fixing my posture. I put it on my list for two reasons, first, in case I decide I actually want to do it, and second, because ten is a rounder number than nine, so I had to have ten goals.