Musings

Misunderstanding

2010-05-11T05:32:00.001-07:00

Last night the kids and I went jogging. Jess helped get them ready to go and wisely instructed Jayson to go to the bathroom before we left on the run. He promptly responded, "No thanks. I will just go outside".

Oops.
Unintended consequence of the Fathers and Sons campout.
I guess I should have better explained that we save outside "relief" for "special occasions".
Like camping.
Or when you're out toiletpapering the neighborhood at 3 in the morning.

Fathers and Sons

2010-05-09T16:15:00.001-07:00

I went on a Fathers and Sons campout for the first time in probably 30 years. This time as a father. Jayson has been talking about going camping since I first proposed the idea two weeks ago. He was really looking forward to sleeping in a tent and cooking hotdogs and marshmallows on a fire. He has constantly been reminding me what the girls have taught him, "It's not 'fathers and daughters', it's 'fathers and sons'". I was excited for two weeks myself, but I must admit, driving home from work on Friday, I was a little apprehensive about taking a two year old on an overnight campout. As it turns out, once he mastered the art of going "number 1" in the woods, everthing turned out pretty slick....

This was the picture Jess took of us just before we headed out the door. We went with the Sunset Ward up to a property just past Henefer up Ogden Canyon. We pitched our tent right next to a tire swing that was attached to a large branch about 30 feet in the air. Jayson loved the swing (after the first freak out when he realized he was about 15 feet off the ground with the first push). We swang the first night and early the next morning. He was freezing cold in this picture and teeth chattering with shivers, but he insisted he wasn't cold so he could keep swinging.

This next picture was Jayson as we were on our hike with the group up to Witches Rocks. The whole time he just kept telling me, "This is soooo fun Daddy, this is sooo fun".

This is us just after the Bishop finished telling us a story. We were in a little clearing amidst the towering "Witches Rocks" all around us.

There wasn't really a place for us to ride the ATV and this was the part Jayson was looking forward to the most. He has been dying to ride the ATV "in the mountains" since we bought it this Winter. So after we cleaned up our campground, we drove to Centerville and rode the ATV in the mountains on the dirt roads where I grew up. Jayson squealed and laughed for over an hour before it was time to head home.

He is already talking about when we get to go camping again next year. Not sure I am ready to tell he that we can really go camping whenever we want, we don't actually have to wait for next years Fathers and Sons.

Fat

2010-04-22T16:48:00.000-07:00

We were sitting by the computer, chilling as a family.

Jess referred me to a picture she was looking at of our family vacation to Southern California a few years ago. She told me, "Sean, check out this picture and look at how far you've come".

I pulled up the picture.

I must admit, it was a little weird to look at. Kinda made me sick to my stomach.

It got a little more awkward when Rylee wandered over to the monitor.

Rylee (all matter-of-fact): "Oh my gosh you're fat!"

Thanks Rylee.

The only Rylee moment more precious than that was when we were sitting in the chapel right after sacrament meeting a few years back. Rylee's primary teacher was about 9 months pregnant and talking with Jessica. As she walked away, Jessica was telling Rylee that her teacher was about to have a baby, and that she had a baby in her tummy.

Rylee promptly turned to me, pointed to my stomach, and asked, "When are you going to have your baby?"

Once again, Thanks Rylee.

The Karate Kid

2010-04-01T19:32:00.000-07:00

One more brilliant move to bring me one step closer to earning the coveted "father of the year" award.

A few weeks ago we ran into the classic "Karate Kid" playing on cable. Brought back a lot of memories.

The classic family tale of Daniel Larusso forced by his mom to relocate across the country, moving into a neighborhood full of black belt bullies, mentored by Mr. Miyagi's unorthodox methods.

The kids started watching it with us near the end, right before Daniel's big tournament.

The anticipation of my favorite line, "Get him a body bag!!" kept me riveted on the show; and apparently clouded my judgement. Parental Guidance was suggested by the Motion Picture Association of America, so for some reason, I thought it was a good idea to allow the kids to watch the show with me.

After Johnny "swept the leg" it looked like all was lost. Three little faces in my living room were very concerned and very worried for Daniel. (I would have been to if I didn't know how it all ended.) Fortunately, though Japanese healing magic took care of the problem and Daniel Larusso returned to the mat to finish what he started. Honestly, who really saw that coming???

Fortunately for all of us, with the score tied 2-2, and only able to stand on one leg, Daniel-son used the move Mr. Miyagi taught him. The one where he stands on his one good leg, with arms extended outward, hands oddly pointed downward. Mr. Miyagi nods his approval. This was the move, Miyagi told him, if performed correctly, can't be defended against. Daniel-son capitalized on this opportunity. He rose up and kicked Johnny right in the face to win the match. Just like I remembered.

The girls were really impressed with that final move. They all wanted to try it. Tayler and Rylee turned it into more of a funky, semi-graceful dance move. Jayson tried it too.

It seemed like good quality family time--a great way to spend an evening as a family. We all basked in the joy of Daniel's victory over Johnny. We all practiced the final move. (Except Jess. Who seemed to think we were all idiots.)

Seemed like such a great idea at the time.

Until last night when I was sitting on the end of our sectional, minding my own business. Jayson came up and stood on the couch by me. Then he raised up and kicked me in the face. He was so excited. It was beautifully executed. Much better than when we practiced after the movie. He laughed and bragged, "Daddy, I kicked you in the face".

It was then that a strange thought crossed my mind. "Maybe the PG rating was there for a reason." Maybe smart parents don't let their two year old boys watch movies about karate, fighting, and violence. Hopefully Jayson will grow up to be more like Daniel-son instead of Johnny--in spite of his father's lack of judgement.

When you gotta go...you gotta go.

2010-03-07T06:52:00.001-08:00

Interesting little ending to my Saturday workout.

After my spin class, I drove over to the running/bike trail that runs parallel to the Legacy Highway. I parked in Farmington and ran two miles before turning back towards the car. Since it was still relatively early and cold, I only saw about ten other people along the trail. I was probably about 200 yards from my car when I noticed a couple running towards me about 100 yards away. She was wearing pink and black and he was wearing all blue. Often times I have a tendency to run looking down at the path, rather than straight ahead, so I wondered where the girl disappeared to as I passed her husband who was now running alone. Hopefully I wasn't going to be the last eye witness to a spouse or girlfriend disappearance.

Fortunately, about twenty seconds later, I saw her.

Unfortunately, though, I saw most of her.

She was squatting, underwear and running pants around her ankles, about 10 feet off the trail; relieving herself, completely shielded from the sight of unsuspecting joggers by the 12 inch high weeds that line the trail. Her head was down, no doubt providing the re-assurance that if she couldn't see people running along the trail, nobody could see her.

She looked up as I passed.

All I could do was shake my head and smile.

She must've really had to go bad. She couldn't possibly have waited 20 more seconds for me to run past???

On a less revealing note...

My kids have a real problem interrupting Jess and I while we are on the phone. Saturday afternoon, while on the phone with my sister, Rylee had something soooo important to tell me. She interrupted me once.

Then she interrupted me a second time (thirty seconds later).

Both times I asked her to wait until I got off the phone.

On the third interruption, I covered up the phone and asked Rylee why she was interrupting me again after I had asked her a million times not to interrupt me while I was on the phone.

She looked at me blankly.

With no facial expression she responded, "Two times. You asked me two times. Not a million."

She gets that from her mother.

Maverick Day Spa

2010-02-16T19:52:00.000-08:00

Last night on the way to the airport, we stopped off at Maverick to drop off a DVD at Redbox.
Did a double take when I saw a lady coming out of Maverick wearing a white terrycloth robe and slippers.
A guy was waiting for her in a car parked by mine.
I had to look.
He too was wearing a white terrycloth robe.
A very short, white terrycloth robe.

At first it seemed wierd.
Then I just had a hankerin' for a 64 oz Coke.
And a facial and massage.

My Two "Valentines"

2010-02-14T15:13:00.000-08:00

Jess frequently hints at her dislike for some of my blog posts. I think it's because I don't chronicle the daily events in an online journal. So, with her out of town, I will provide a journal-type rundown of the weekend for her benefit.

Jess took Jackson and Rylee to her brother's house in Denver for their baby blessing. I settled in for a little Valentine's weekend fun with Tayler and Jayson.

Saturday we headed to Ogden to Fat Cats for pizza and bowling. This is our self-taken photo at the Pizza Factory.

This is Jayson at the bowling alley. He stood up with a foot on each of two swiveling bowling chairs, raised his hands, and yelled, "I a RockStar Dad!!!". Then he promptly fell off. The camera captured his descent.

Tayler patiently helped Jayson bowl every turn. Then they waited the 45 minutes for his ball to make it down the alley to the pins.

Tayler is pretty competitive. She didn't like that I was soundly beating her the entire game. The only fun part about Jess not being with us is that I got to win. My personal best. 151. Four strikes and two spares. (Three strikes in a row. TURKEY!!!)

Jayson cheered every single turn. Even his gutter balls.

Saturday we bought an ice cream maker and all the ingredients for homemade ice cream. Tayler wanted Strawberry--fittingly pink for valentines day.

Notice Jayson's little ice cream bowl, scooted a good two feet out into the middle of the island. Apparently, he's decided he doesn't like strawberry ice cream. Fortunately, I divided the ingredients so we can make a batch of something else that he might like better. Reeses Peanut butter cup. We'll see.

So far, so good Jess.

Translation: we are all still alive and well fed.

Coinciently, I have angled the camera so that we didn't capture much of the mess in the kitchen, dining room and living room. As usual, we are only cleaning up once this weekend (right before you get home). But don't stress, it will be clean (mostly) by the time we leave to get you at the airport tomorrow night. Well, let's be honest; the house will be "straightened up" before we come get you.

Code Pink

2010-01-23T06:22:00.000-08:00

Hospital security is a good thing. I can't imagine anything worse than someone stealing a baby--or a hospital mix-up that sends the wrong baby home with the wrong parents. (With that said, an unfortunate mis-hap that might send Rylee home with another family, in exchange for a short brown-haired, brown eyed sweet, obedient little five-year-old girl, might actually be welcomed from time to time.) Fortunately, hospitals have implemented strict safety procedures which require matching of baby and parent id bracelets each time you want to "access" your newborn.

Thursday night I was able to have a romantic (when nurses weren't checking Jess' vitals) bedside dinner with Jessica, courtesy of Davis Hospital and our $700 per night rate (excluding insurance company liability). Over the course of our dinner, Jess decided she needed a bedside dinner with two men, so she asked me to go get Jackson (to be completely accurate though, at the time, he was still known as "the Baby").

I proceeded to the nursery, where I provided a blood and urine sample, a cheek swab, submitted to a retinal scan, and was then escorted through a series of security checkpoints, including an airport-like scanner, and a pat-down from a large male nursing assistant named Greg. Then they read the numbers on my bracelet, compared it with Jackson's, and then allowed me to take him to our room.

Somewhere on the way back to the room, I took a wrong turn. I think I went left, when I should've gone right. About thirty seconds later, I realized I had no idea where I was. Keep in mind, I wasn't in a ten-story trauma center, I was in a small community hospital in Layton, Utah. It shouldn't be that easy to get lost--especially when you start out about 200 feet from your deisred destination.

Somewhere, at this exact moment in Postpartum Room 210, Jessica received a phone call from the nursery. "Is your baby with you?"

Jess: "no. But my husband just went to go get him"
I think that explained it.

It was at the exact moment I realized I might be lost, that I also remembered something I was told in passing, the early that morning, following the baby's first bath at around 2 am. Something about an ankle bracelet that would set off alarms and lock down the elevators if you got too close to them. I think it was the "ding" of the elevator that reminded me of that little bit of info. Oops.

At that moment, Tricia RN, rounded the corner, at a full sprint, the serious look on her face relaxing in relief as she saw me sauntering towards her, pushing the plastic basinet-on-wheels, containing Baby-Boy-Dunroe.

Me: "Did I set off an alarm or something?"
Tricia RN: "You sure did"
Me: "Well, I work for a health insurance company you guys contract with and they sent me here to test out your newborn security procedures."
Tricia RN: Blank look. Not amused
Me: "You guys did OK, although I could've made it to the stairs if I wanted to"
Tricia RN: Still not amused "turn left at the end of the hall if you want to go back to your wife's room"

I thought it best if I kept this little misadventure to myself. I find it best to not load Jess' gun with ammo. It comes back to bite me at in-opportune times. I meandered into the room, like I hadn't just set off an alarm and locked down the elevators. I started off with some sort of small talk, but when I parted the fancy hospital curtain that provides the last line of patient privacy, I could tell by Jess' face that she had just been reassured that her husband was an idiot.

"So you set off those alarms huh?"
"yep".

As I got home that night, I was remembering my little "code pink" (baby abduction for those of you who don't watch Greys Anatomy). I pulled into the garage. Walked into the kitchen. Put the Yukon keys on their special hook--just in case Jessica were to come home suddenly, unexpectedly from the hospital, I had to make sure everything was in it's assigned location. I sat down on the couch, flipped on the TV, happy for a few quiet moments of reflection. Quiet? Oops. I forgot to pick up the kids. Sorry Grace! Thanks for watching them while I just take a little time to myself.

Guess I was a little tired. I'm sure it's hard going through labor in the middle of the night. But it can also be hard to sit around uselessly all night long in multiple hospital rooms answering hospital staff's superficial questions and trying hard just to do what you're told.

Male Bonding

2010-01-21T09:20:00.000-08:00

Well, he came.

Baby Boy Dunroe #2. At 11:40'something pm on January 20th. 6 pounds, 8 ounces. 19 1/2 inches long.

I tested Jess' name of choice. "Luke"...

In my Darth Vader voice. (Complete with "audible labored breathing through a black mask" sound effect.)

"Luke...I am your father."

The little guy scrunched up his face, and gave what appeared to be his best "severed hand, clinging to an overhanging railing, Mark Hamill" impression and yelled, "Nooooooooooooo!"

It was a little creepy.

You remember the scene in The Empire Strikes Back. When millions of women across the country simultaneously decided Mark Hamill was more bizarre than cute.

It was just like that.

So the name "Luke" may be out.

Sorry Jess.

At any rate, here are some pictures.

And now for the male bonding....

At first it seems like he was just tired....Or hungry.

Then it seemed like he was just confused.

Tunrs out, he was hungry.

And confused.

Hopefully, someday we will bond eating hot dogs at LaVell Edwards Stadium.

And not with him latched onto his dad's chest.

Luke, I am not your father.

Turns out I'm your mother.

Memorable Moments from the Weekend

2010-01-17T06:28:00.001-08:00

At the drive thru window of Pace's:
Rylee: That girl (the one at the drive up window) is really pretty
Tayler: Not as pretty as mommy.
Me: Of course not Tay....Also, don't forget to tell your mommy I said that. If you forget, I'll have to post it on my blog.

Me: Jess, sorry the fog is so thick tonight. You won't be able to see our shirtless backyard neighbor wandering through his blind-less house with huge windows.
Jess: What? (feigning confusion and misunderstanding at what I had said). I've never even noticed!
Me: Right....too bad he's a pilot and not a fireman.
Jess: looks like a fireman to me.
(Disclaimer: the re-telling of this interactment might be slightly imbellished. Slightly.)

At Energy Solutions Arena:
Found out that my dear bride has a little thing for Kyle Korver.For her sake, I won't tell you what she said. (Hint: Think Masha Kirelinko's "pass").

Tayler (speaking to me):
"Mommy, do you think...I mean, Dad, do you think..."
Me: "Do you ever make that same mistake and call your mother, Dad?"
Tay: "No"
Nice.

Came home from the Jazz game Saturday to a homemade "Service Box" Tayler had created, complete with little slips of paper.
Each one has an idea for a "random" act of service.
For example: Do someone else's "chores" (I think "Ma" taught little "Half-pint" what the word "chore" meant while "Pa" was "in town" picking up sugar, salt, and flour at the "Olson's General Store"--I often still reflect on life lessons learned from Ma, Pa, and Laura on Little House On the Prairie).
Give someone a hug
Make someone's bed
It's very refreshing to know that Tayler is thoughtful enough for the rest of us.

Boys Night at Dollar Cuts

2010-01-17T05:59:00.000-08:00

So Chubbs (Jayson) and I headed to Dollar Cuts.

He was really excited to go, but got nervous as they put the protective cape (complete with multicolored fishies) around his neck.

They cut my hair simultaneously in the chair next to his.

Hairstylist One: "You look so cute Jayson, just like your daddy" (Seriously, I know you are just angling for a big tip. But no worries...you just earned it).

Jayson: "Yes, I cute" (he gets his confidence from his mother)

Hairstylist Two: "You are such a big boy Jayson"

Jayson: "Yes, I a big boy".

Unfortunately they finished my cut (since I have less hair) before Jaysons. When he saw that I was finished he declared the same for himself, "I done" and proceeded to start yanking off the protective cape.

Fortunately, Hairstylist One was able to coax Jayson to remain in the chair through the promise of using styling gel in his hair "just like your daddy has". It worked.

As we exited dollar cuts, the hairstylists all said goodbye to Jayson. He blew them all kisses (seems to be his thing, and it seems to work).

Then my little Momma's Boy prattled all the way home about how excited he was to show his "Mommy" and "Tay Tay" and "Ry Pie". When we got home, they weren't there, so we took pictures for them instead.

The Circus Heads to the Quilted Bear

2010-01-10T21:45:00.000-08:00

Tayler's Circus Drawing during church

Friday night my keen husband senses (the look on Jess' face) told me Jess needed a break from the Circus (the affectionate name we use to denote all of our kids collectively). So after Rylee's birthday party at Boondocks, we went shopping. Sort of.

Jayson and I arrived late. He promptly took off his shoes and invited himself to bowl with the actual party guests.

We went to Bed, Bath and Beyond to get Tayler a super, glitter, bouncy ball. She has wanted one for the past month. Jayson and Rylee decided, after five seconds, that they needed one.

So I had to buy three.

Then we went to the Quilted Bear to look for shelves for Jayson and the new baby's room. We are "nesting". Well, Jess is nesting.

Unlike a father Robin, I don't really nest. I just help out where I'm told.
I've been told that we need to decorate the boys' room. So I went looking for shelves.
With the circus.

I got distracted from shelf-shopping by some Willow Tree carvings. Mothers and fathers in various poses with each other and with their children. I asked the kids which ones reminded them most of their mother. Their choices were interesting. So I chose the one that most reminds me of Jess.

It's too difficult to adequately summarize the entire circus-Quilted Bear experience. So I've chosen my favorites.

Tayler: "I don't like that one (the first one Willow Tree carving I chose) because I have never seen mommy sitting on a rock."

Since many of the boutiques had pictures of LDS temples, Rylee sang a primary song. In traditional Rylee fashion.
At the top of her lungs.
Throughout the entire store. "I love to see the temple. I'm going there someday..."

Tayler: Dad, why don't you get this for Mom? It will make her cry. (Picture of Jesus with nail marks in his hands and wrists).

Rylee: "I have to go to the bathroom."

Me: "Has anyone seen Rylee? Rylee!"

Rylee: (Heard from three aisles away), "I'll prepare myself while I am young...This is my sacred duty." (Must've been interesting, particularly for the non-LDS shoppers).

Jayson:"Daddy, poopie" (Means either number one or two is on its way--you don't know which until you're at the point of delivery).

Me: "Don't touch that. Or that. Or that. Rylee, do you want to go sit in the car?"
"Jayson, please stop touching things or you'll go sit in the car, by yourself."
Tayler: "By himself? Yeah, right."
Me: "Tayler, please stop ruining my idle threats." Tayler: "What does 'idle' mean?"

My favorite part was standing in line waiting for our turn to checkout.Tayler saw a little bear holding a red heart that says "kiss me".

Tayler: "Daddy, why don't you get this for mommy?"

Rylee: "You could come home and say, I love you sweetheart!" (I felt like I was in high school being teased by my little sister).

Tayler: "Then you could kiss her on the lips, OOOHHH!

Rylee: "Whoo-hooohhh". At this point she moved close to Tayler and put her arms around her neck.

Thankfully, rather than kiss, they both leaned their heads back and laughed and giggled and laughed.
This made Jayson laugh hysterically from his perch in the shopping cart.
They repeated this same annoying enactment about four more times, each time having me say something else to Jess that resulted in her kissing me. Each time they roared with laughter.
So did everyone else standing in line.
As did the cashier.
I just couldn't wait to get the circus home and send them to their rooms.

Rylee drew this at church and gave it to Jess. Apparently it's a picture of Jess.

Pregnant Jess. I think it's pregnant, angry Jess (look at the size of those eyes) who just woke up and stumbled out of bed, apparently hungover (look at the bed-head and the crazy look on her face). Rylee is very proud of it. Jess isn't.

Happy Birthday Rylee-Pot-Pie!!!

2010-01-03T20:00:00.000-08:00

I can't believe it's been five years since I was heading back to the hospital with two-year-old Tayler who was anxiously proclaiming, "I'm coming Baby Rylee, I'm coming Baby Rylee". They've been best buds ever since.

She picked up Jayson from the nursery today after church. When I found the two of them holding hands in the foyer, I told her that it's probably better if she lets Jess or I pick him up. She responded, "Well, I'm five today Dad". Good point Ry.

She continues to add the spice to our lives. She knows exactly what buttons to push to get a rise out of any of us. She loves to cuddle and she loves to be a big sister. She seems anxious for another little brother to mother and bully. She's still determined to grow up and marry Jayson; because, as she tells us so often, "he's just so cute."

She keeps telling Jess each day that the baby in her belly looks bigger--a comment sure to make Jess' day.

One day a few weeks ago when I got home from work, she informed me that she saw Santa at the Chick-fil-a (Layton Hills Mall). She got a very serious look on her face and told me in her matter-of-fact tone, "There wasn't a princess dress in his sack." In her little mind, this meant she wasn't going to get her number one gift for Christmas. I wondered at the time how she got a peak into his sack, but then I'd probably rather not know.

Christmas morning as she watched Jayson play with his new train, she informed us that next year she wanted a pink train for Christmas. So we got her one for her birthday (white, orange and blue because we couldn't find a pink one). When she opened it, she turned to me and with a slight look of disappointment informed me, "but it's not a girl train dad". "That's cause most girls don't play with trains son."

The scariest thing about Rylee is she understands waaaay more than she ever lets on and she has a steel trap for a brain. She remembers the littlest details about everything! One things for sure, our lives have never been the same since she joined our family.

I love you my little (big) Rylee-Pot-Pie, Happy Birthday!

Majority Rules

2009-12-28T10:40:00.000-08:00

When it comes to planning family activities, we tend to run a democracy at the Dunroe house. We also vote on politically sensitive issues. For example: Sitting at the dinner table the Sunday before Christmas, "Who thinks Rylee has made it off of Santa's naughty list?" The majority at the table (meaning the kids, minus Jess and I) raise their hands high and proclaim, "I do", "I do", "I do". At that time, Jessica and I remained undecided and didn't declare a vote.

Or, "Who thinks Jayson better finish his dinner or he won't play a game with us?" Unanimous response, even from Jayson (who votes in the affirmative no matter what). "I do!", five hands raised high.

On Christmas night, with nothing planned, we decided to vote on activities. "Who wants to go to a movie". Three votes for (guess which three), with the corresponding "I do's".

The movie didn't start until 9:30, so we had a dinner choice to make. Denny's or IHOP?
IHOP won out because Jess' vote counts for about 15 when she renders a "where should we go for dinner" opinion.

Near the end of dinner, there was a vote that I didn't call for.
Jayson was happily leaning back in his high chair, head hanging down behind the chair, prattling cheerfully to himself. Then he suddenly proclaims "Who thinks daddy's stupid?" To which he quickly answers, with his hand raised high, "I do!"

Unfortunately for me, three other hands shot up and Rylee burst out with the giggles.

Blogging

2009-12-22T16:36:00.000-08:00

I don't have too much to say today. Might be 'cause I ran across this as I was preparing for a job interview the other day. I found it hilarious. And true (at least for me).

The website www.despair.com has a ton of these and they crack me up.

Christmas Spirit

2009-12-20T19:29:00.000-08:00

So I haven't really felt much of the "Christmas Spirit" this year. Probably for a variety of reasons--all of them my fault. I have felt it during a couple of the Christmas activities we've done with the kids, and briefly during a service project we did through work. I definitely felt it today while I was singing in the choir at church. The words of one of the songs meant a little more to me than in the past.

As my mind wandered during the Christmas song, I thought of the "glad tidings of great joy" the angels announced to the lowly sheperds anciently. Thinking of the coming of the promised Messiah as a babe in Bethlehem in hindsight, provides a very different perspective than the viewpoint of those who lived at the time of the Savior, or those who lived before His coming.

From the time of Adam and Eve, the prophets of the Old Testament had been taught from heaven about the future coming of a King who would one day deliver them from the bondage of physical and spiritual death. They in turn taught the people of their day that if they lived their lives in faith, relying on these promises, that one day, likely after their death, the promised Messiah would pay the price for their sins. They would be reliant on this Savior to allow them to rise again from the grave, and permit them to enter again into the presence of their Heavenly Father and live forever with their loved ones.

For those living in Judeah who believed in the words of these prophets, the words of the angels surely bought rejoicing and tears because everything they had believed was unfolding as they had been taught.

The angels themselves no doubt rejoiced in the message they had the privilege to deliver. Those angelic messengers were likely those who had already died, but had faithfully adhered to the teachings of their prophets--Adam, Enoch, Noah, Abraham, Moses, and Isaiah. They died firm in the faith that this Savior would indeed make good on his promise to deliver them back to the presence of their Father and they were now but 33 years from this promised deliverance.

Perhaps some living in our day were also part of this Heavenly host--equally reliant on the merits, mercies, and love of the promised Savior and rejoicing in the ability to deliver the "glad tidings of great joy" to the inhabitants of the earth.

The Polar Express

2009-12-19T06:30:00.000-08:00

I was relieved to hear that Miss Allington's second grade class barely qualified, through last minute (very) obedient behavior, for a well-earned reprive from the "three Rs" (pulled straight from the "Little House on the Prairie" archives indellibly engraved somewhere on the folds of my cerebrum). Thankfully they were able to enjoy a cinematic journey to the North Pole via the Polar Express. The hard work, fret, diligence, worry, and reslutant extra effort during the month of December was paid off with a much anticipated Friday-before-Christmas miracle.

This manipulative tactic has been masterfully employed by both Tayler's elementary school teachers (at different schools). In Mrs. Thorton's first grade class, each child could earn, subsequently lose, and hopefully re-gain (seemingly with no limit on the ability to re-earn) their "golden ticket". Said ticket promised to ensure a fun-filled Friday-afternoon-before-Christmas on the Polar Express. We received a nightly report about whether or not Blaze (the apparent class miscreant) ended the day in possession of his golden ticket. Much to the surprise (and relief) of everyone in room seven (I confess I really don't know the room number), Blaze's last minute penitence resulted in his earning back his golden ticket--mere moments before showtime last year. Talk about cutting it close.

Tayler seemed to be back and forth through the month of December as to whether she was happy or sad that Blaze might not be able to join his peers. But in the end, she appeared relieved. Blaze wasn't the only child influenced by the promise of reward, and threat of exclusion. The annoyingly obedient Tayler was on her extra-best behavior in the weeks leading up to the big event.

Near as I can tell, Miss Allington's class started the month with the words POLAR EXPRESS PARTY on the chalkboard. As forgetful children would mouth off, or become extra unruly, a letter could be wiped away from the board. This time though, there was no promise that a letter could ever be re-written, once removed. This was especially terrifying to Tayler. One evening this past week however, over Jess' chicken cordon bleu (her best ever), Tayler informed us that a previously removed letter had been unexpectedly resurrected due to extraordinary obedience that afternoon. Miss Allington noted that such an even had never taken place in her entire teaching carreer (which couldn't possibly encapsule more than four prior Christmas seasons).

I felt the parental obligation to reassure Tayler that the Christmas Spirit was almost sure to result in the final "Y" remaining on the board just moments before the promised hour. "Don't worry about it Tayler, I know your class will magically be eligible for the trip on the Polar Express--regardless of your behavior". Not sure why I felt the need to inform her of the end result. Perhaps I'm a little envious that such a ploy seems to so consistently result in behavior modification at school, while the repeated, albeit inconsistent, threats of "a lump of coal" in your stocking hung by the chimney with care, seem only good for brief periods of improved obedience at home (a place wherein no other success can compensate for failure).

Jess, apparently equally envious or irritated (still difficult, after over 8 years of marriage, to unequivocally know for sure), added the following wise counsel, "Tayler, there is no way your teacher has a lesson plan prepared for Friday. You're guaranteed a Friday afternoon trip on the Polar Express." Tayler, clearly confused at either our insistence on the certainty of the outcome, or simply not knowing what the "H" Jess meant by an unprepared "lesson plan"--responded by resuming her meal.

Somewhere, I suspect, Blaze's family is also breathing a sigh of releif that their son earned his "golden ticket" just in the [Saint] Nick of time.

Rylee's Heart

2009-12-19T05:57:00.000-08:00

Last year at this time, we had been singing a lot of church hymns at home with the intent on teaching the kids the words to some of our favorites.
Unfortunately, both Tayler and Rylee have inherited my vocal talents and we sound horrible when we sing.
None of the three of us can carry a tune.

During this period, I remember taking the kids to Blockbuster to pick out a movie.
They ventured over to the "kids movie" section, intent on each picking out a show.
From across the store, I heard Rylee singing her new favorite hymn at the top of her lungs,
"Praise to the man who communed with Jehovah". The words were clear and unmistakeable--off pitch, and incredibly loud.
I rushed over to remind Rylee to use her inside voice.
Then asked if we could just focus on quietly getting a movie and then sing in the car on the way home.
Neither ploy worked.
The kids insisted they each needed a movie, which took forever to pick out...
Meanwhile, Rylee's show just went on.

This year Rylee has a new favorite song she sings at stores.
While shopping with Jess at Target last week, Rylee sang (again at the top of her lungs)
"Last Christmas, I gave you my heart and the very next day, you gave it away"
(not exactly sure of the words from here, but Rylee certainly is)
"This year, to save me some tears, I'll give it to someone special".

I don't know why Rylee has chosen this above all of the more kid-friendly Christmas songs.
Maybe she truly feels Jess gave away her (Rylee's) heart last year.
Perhaps this year I will be "someone special".
But, judging by Rylee's insistence that she'll grow up and marry her younger brother, I bet it'll be Jayson.

Life Lessons Learned Next to the Porcelain Throne

2009-12-16T19:08:00.000-08:00

So Jayson went potty, all by himself, for the first time.
He couldn't have been more excited about it.
He and I clapped and clapped, and cheered and cheered.

He then went upstairs to explain to his mom how it all happened and even how it all works (for a boy).
I heard them clap and clap, and cheer and cheer.

It's funny how exciting a small little victory can be to a two year old. But perhaps more important, this little episode reminded me how a little positive affirmation from a loved one can go a long way.

Hopefully Jess will read this blog.

I can already picture how things will evolve around the Dunroe household.
"Sean--you took out the garbage all by yourself! Great job!"
"Thanks Hon for taking your dish to the sink! You are such a big boy!"
"Oh my gosh! You hung up your clothes (instead of laying them across the back of the recliner)!"
Then we'll clap and clap, and cheer and cheer.

(Who knows, I may even do it next time without being asked.)

Before and After (well not quite)

2009-12-13T19:51:00.000-08:00

It's been a while since I have left any musings.

Been thinking today about this past year and all the changes we have experienced.

Most noticeably, we are expecting our second little boy, and last child (as I have been informed).

I was looking at a photo of me with the soccer team I coached last year. I keep it in my office at work and I was noticing the difference from a year ago. Thought it might be a good time to post a before and after photo online. I don't plan on it being "after" quite yet, as I still have a ways to go to get down to my goal weight. But 125 pounds so far feels amazing.

I have been thinking about how much life has changed for me personally over the past year, and I may expound on that in future posts. But for now, I think I'll just post the pictures.

This was me trying to keep up with Tayler's soccer team as I coached them on the field.

This is a picture with me and the love of my life! Still can't believe she fell in love with me, but sooo glad she did!

These are photos we took last night of me holding the suit pants I was wearing in that picture above with Jess. Can't believe these used to be tight. I remember each week as I was getting ready for church or church meetings, I would say a silent prayer that they would fit. Now I say a prayer of gratitude that they don't!

Repair Man

2009-02-07T07:08:00.000-08:00

On my way to a meeting yesterday, I passed by a house in West Valley with a sign in front that read something like:

Home repairs or home renovations (and then listed the number to call to hire a home repairman).

Interesting though that the house boasting the sign had several exterior items in desperate need of repair and a fresh coat of paint.

I don't need to be self-deprecating or flippant, but there's more than one good reason why I didn't become a nutritionist and have never been an aerobics instructor. Have you ever walked into an exercise class at a gym and realized the class was taught by an overweight instructor? I have.
It does not inspire confidence.
You're immediately filled with a realization that you just might be about to waste an hour of your life.
But you can't change your mind once you're in there or you're the lazy fat person who gave up before class even started.

The Parrot

2009-01-25T21:09:00.000-08:00

We play two games as a family (minus Jayson). Angelina Ballerina Uno (Uno with the dancing mouse, Angelina Ballerina--the colors are pastel pink, blue, green, and yellow) and Sequence for kids. Sometimes we play as a family (minus Jayson and Rylee). It depends on our patience level.

Rylee can engage in serious game play for about two minutes. Then she's gotta mess around. She will go out of turn. She will place her chips (in Sequence) on an animal that isn't one of the cards she drew. Or she will try to secretly, or not-so-secretly depending on her mood, switch chips with someone else's on the board. My favorite, until tonight, was when she leaned back and put her bare foot up on the table. She then put the cards in her hand between her toes and held her "hand" of cards with her feet. Nice.

Each time we ask her if she wants to play, she promises us that she will not be silly. But it lasts only a short time.

Tonight she did better than she has for a long time. She lasted through 3 games of sequence and four hands on Uno (she won three of the four rounds of Uno). She celebrated her victories by quietly climbing up on my right shoulder to sit. As she perched up there, she turned to me and said, "I a parrot".

OK. Game over.

Bro-Mance

2009-01-24T07:30:00.000-08:00

It's become so commonplace you hardly even notice it anymore.
Two or three gals getting their exercise on with a brisk walk through the neighborhood, or as often is the case in my neck of the woods, around the track surrounding the park adjacent to the Layton Firestation.
I've seen them in the early morning, afternoon, early evening or even late at night. Group exercise walking is beneficial in so many ways. Not only does it address safety concerns, but it increases the obligation of both parties to participate in the exercise ritual, and provides company (which lessons the pain and boredom of repeated walks in an area providing no change in scenery). Without a doubt great conversation is also an essential ingredient to the successful group walk exercise and fitness program.
Years ago Jessica was involved in an early morning walking group. They successfully pounded the pavement of our subdivision and the Firestation track on many a very early morning (the early morning comment may come as a great shock to those of you who know my wife and her love for sleep.) Jessica would come home rejuvenated and no doubt filled with the latest information on who was doing what around our neighborhood.
Well times are changing.
Some neighborhood drivers have undoubtedly seen a different form of group exercise ritual emerging in these parts.
The benefits are all the same. Exercise. Obligation. Safety (well, not really). Pleasant conversation.
But the group composition is slightly different.
This pair doesn't just blend in due to commonality.
United with a desire to increase health and fitness, drop the poundage, and boost energy levels, two three-hundred-plus pound male fitness walkers have been hitting the pavement with semi-regularity.
There are definite differences from the typical walking pair.
1) We actually need the exercise.
3) We are bound by similar goals and limitations.
2) Due to our subpar fitness levels, walking actually constitutes exercise.
3) Conversation is often cut short due to brief periods of breathlessness.
4) When we can talk, we don't talk about other people, we talk about ourselves, our ideas, our goals, our common interests and challenges.
5) Cars have to swerve significantly in order to avoid hitting us.
6) We never have any pre-conceived route or distance. We prefer to meander through the neighborhood, take random turns and eventually end up somewhere close to where we started.
7) When we move to the sidewalk and try to walk side by side, we have to take turns being the one either slightly ahead, slightly behind, with one foot off the sidewalk, or dodging the low-hanging branches of grass-strip trees.
8) When we finish, we are actually perspiring, even in 20-degree weather.
9) Afterwards, we feel tired as opposed to rejuvenated.

Jess calls it a "Bro-mance" (she views it as a match made in heaven).
I prefer to think of it as "two big guys on a very slow jog".

Stiff Competition

2009-01-17T08:13:00.000-08:00

Jayson's apparently trying to upgrade his current status with his "BFF".

The other night Jess and I were sitting on the couch watching TV before bed. Jayson wouldn't go to sleep so he was hanging out with us. Rather, he was cuddling with Jess. I was the third wheel.

It got worse.

I heard Jess chuckle so I looked over to see what was so funny. Jayson had his arms locked around Jess' neck. He was staring longingly (yes, longingly) into Jessica's eyes. His head was tilted to the side and he was clearly smitten with his mommy. It was all Jess and I could do to not laugh outloud.

"How long has this been going on?" I asked her.

"A couple days now." she responded.

Well, I've decided to think it's cute.

But still a little creepy.

Jayson better be ready for a war, cause I'm gonna fight for my woman.

You better bring it...Momma's boy!

The Sisterhood

2008-12-31T05:47:00.001-08:00

So during movie night this past week I was torn between two movies that I was dying to see.

Tay and Rylee were watching "A Barbie Christmas Carol" upstairs.

Jess was watching "The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2" downstairs.

Jayson was frantically vacuuming the house with his new vacuum from Santa (more on that later).

I went with the pants movie.

Great choice.

I got to spend time with my sweet wife....

and learn some valuable life lessons from a fictional girls club.

Jess and I never watched the first movie, so we were grateful the movie so quickly and conveniently caught us up on the most important bits of drama we had missed.

The four girls in the movie traveled to different locations for their college summer break, but shipped the magic hippie pants back and forth with a brief note so they could all wear them at some point during the summer.

The pants were so important that they all four traveled to Greece to find them once they heard they were lost by Lena's little sister Effey. (Really? Effey?) Well, three of them went to find the pants and make sure their friend once again connected with her "love of a lifetime" beau-married to another girl due to a before-the-show-started pre-marital pregnancy that turned out to be a lie (by his manipulative girlfriend/wife)-subsequently freeing him up to annul the marriage just in case Lena would have him back.

Very intense story line.

As it turns out, Lena leaves her new (better looking, I might add) boyfriend who is very nice and sweet to her, for her former boyfriend from Greece (who I might have liked better if I'd seen the first movie). They never did find the pants.

I could never really get into the show. I'm not sure if it was because I missed the first one, or if I couldn't get one thought out of my mind..."There is no way all four of those girls could fit into those 'magic' pants".

Coincidentally, Carmen never even tried to put them on (at least not that I remember). At least the show turned out in the end to be a little more realistic than first portrayed.

Biggest life lesson learned: When Jess watches the Traveling Pants 1...I'm going to be pretend-vacuuming with Jayson.

Christmas Donation to Clearfield City

2008-12-15T21:48:00.000-08:00

Apparently Clearfield City expects drivers to make a complete stop at four way stops--even when nobody else is on the road and one of the four roads is merely a circle. Who knew?

Since when did "putting your foot over the brake and looking in all directions before proceeding" stop being good enough? And since when did being in a hurry for Larry Miller's Free Christmas sing-a-long at the Energy Solutions Arena not constitute an emergency?

Turns out it was a fairly expensive Christmas FHE for the Dunroes. And Merry Christmas to you Traffic Officer Durrant...

"Train up a child in the way he should go...."

2008-12-10T21:09:00.000-08:00

So tonight Jess showed me something alarming about Jayson. It got me thinking about a potential career path for my little Momma's Boy.

http://www.daisymaids.com/

Yep. He just might be a "daisy maid" someday.

Tonight Jess showed me his new favorite thing.
Laundry.
She gets the clothes out of the washer (a few items at a time). She hands them to him.
He giggles with delight and puts them in the dryer. Then turns back to his mommy to get a new bunch of wet clothes. She said when he is around she can't put the clothes in herself or he grunts in disgust and then takes them out and puts them in by himself.

I would like to think he is just being a gentleman. But I know him too well.

His second favorite thing is to unload the dishwasher. He takes out the dishes one at a time and brings them over to me to put in the cupboard. Saturday I watched him wrestle a frying pan that was stuck in there too tight. After three or four minutes, he wrestled it free.

His third favorite thing to do is sweep the floor. He even knows how to use a dustpan.

His fourth favorite thing is to try to use the vacuum. Our vacuum is so heavy, yet he manages to move it across the floor (whenever we aren't around). He is obsessed with it.

He's a dream come true for mothers and future wives everywhere.

I need some more one on one time with him. We need to just sit down together, with our feet propped up on an ottoman, remote in hand, watching a football game or mindless sitcom. He needs to learn to tune out the sound of the washer buzzer (signaling another load for the dryer). I need to teach him not to hear the sound of the dishwasher open and the sound of dishes being put away. I need to teach him that all he needs to know about the vacuum is his responsibility to lift up his feet and let someone else vacuum under them. I need to teach him that you can sweep crumbs under the edge of the cabinet with your foot in a fraction of the time it takes to even get the broom out of the broom closet. I need to teach him that a "honey do" is some sort of fruit and not a mandatory list. That kid has so much to learn.

Most importantly, he needs to learn that when he hears his mom call him from the other room, it usually means.....
Ooops. I will have to finish this blog later, Jess is mumbling about the kitchen being a mess and laundry needing to be done...

I better go find Jayson.

P.S. According to Jess, Jayson said his first "non-Momma", "non-Dadda", word today.
The word...

"Mote".
He yelled that three times as he pointed towards the half wall where the TV remote was sitting.
I couldn't be more proud of that kid!!!

Flashback Friday--Jumpin' at the chance to Christmas Shop

2008-12-06T19:39:00.000-08:00

Last night Jess and I had the opportunity to go Christmas shopping without the kids. It was nice to get out together. It's also fun to think about Christmas's past. I remember the joy I felt when I opened up my first package of superman underoos.
I remember how pumped I was to get them.
But that was last year.
This year it's all about the kids. And Jess.

I'm trying to get Jess a new house.
So the kids might be lucky to get anything.

After shopping we hit Quiznos for some sandwiches. They had put all the chairs up (a half hour before closing) so we took our sandwiches and ate in the car.

It was "wiggity-wiggity-wiggity-wack"!
Yep. Kriss Kross came on the radio.
If only we had hydraulics in the Yukon, we could have really Jump(ed) Jump(ed).

Hey, I'm not too proud to claim I liked that song. Still do. "act like you know and don't be claimin' that it's mental".

Some of the highlights:
"The Mack Dad'll make ya..
Daddy Mack'll make ya.
Kriss Kross'll make ya. Jump. Jump."

Oh Yeah!

"Some o' them try to rhyme, but they can't rhyme like this."
"'Cause I'm the Miggity-Miggity-Miggity-Miggity-Mack-Daddy"

Kinda makes me want to put on my Yankees shirt and low-rider jeans on backwards and strut home.

"Now the formalities are this and that...
For all y'all suckas that don't know....
Check it out...."

www.youtube.com/watch?v=5J5titd0Kbw

Commuter Musings

2008-11-26T19:53:00.000-08:00

Well maybe the environmentalists were right. But maybe not.
I've noticed an awful lot of roadkill during my commutes along the Legacy Parkway. Yesterday, I counted four animal carcasses on my way into work--three were unidentifiable. One I could smell. Coming home, I saw three different raccoon corpses along the side of the road.

Perhaps the parkway really has messed up these poor creatures' homes.
Then again, maybe the highway really isn't disturbing the animals too badly.
Apparently these seven didn't even know there was a road there at all.

The good news for me is that my commute is now taking me back down memory lane to my mission days in Kentucky.
I had never seen so much roadkill in my nineteen-year life.
Although there, the roadkill was different. The carcasses left along the roadside had names like "Spot", "Mittens", or "Sprinkles".

I think everything of value was scooped off the road, thrown into a pot or placed on a skillet.
Kentucky Fried Possom,
Squirrel Kabobs,
Chili-Con-Coon.
We ate at Taco Bell...a lot.

Coincidently, I had also never seen pamper-trees in Utah. Yep, dirty diapers hanging from the lower tree branches in them thar' hills. I'll save that for another post.

Blues

2008-11-23T10:33:00.001-08:00

I had the worst dream last night.

I dreamed the Cougars were in a tight game with the Utes but then Max Hall turned the ball over 6 times and the Cougs got blown out in the 4th quarter.
As the nightmare continued, I arrived home and Jess was acting, all of a sudden, like this huge Utah football fan who follows them all year long and never misses a game.
Front-runner.
Well scoot over Jess, I might as well hop on the bandwagon and hope the Utes win their BCS game. After all, it's "good for the conference", right?

Next year....new tradition. No more blue eggs, waffles and milk.
Maybe we'll try a blue breakfast burrito.

Rivalry Week

2008-11-22T07:47:00.000-08:00

This morning, in celebration of "the Holy War", the kids and I sat down for our first annual Cougar Blue Breakfast:

Blue Eggs and ham, and cheese (for Rylee).

Blue Milk.

Blue waffles (with blueberries for me).

We started by singing the end of the Cougar fight song... "Goooooooo Cougars!"

Jayson, not at all sure what was going on, still played along (probably wondering where his real breakfast was).

Last night I tried to convince Jess (who was horrified when she opened the fridge friday night to a gallon of brand new--blue--milk) to play along and join us for breakfast. I begged. I badgered. No go.
As she headed upstairs for bed, I could clearly hear her saying:

"I do not like blue eggs and ham, I do not like them Sean I Am.
I would not eat them with Max Hall, I do not like them, Not at All!
I would not eat them with Steve Young, I will not touch them with my tongue.
I would not eat them with Heisman Ty, Why would you make them, Why, Why, Why?
I would not eat them with John Beck, Why would you make them, Oh My Heck!
I do not like blue eggs and ham, I do not like them Sean I Am"

And as she headed out this morning, I swear I heard:

"I would not eat them here, nor there,
I would not eat them anywhere.
I would not eat them in the MUSS (the crazy, half-sober, U student section),
I would not eat them without a fuss.
I will not eat them in the kitchen,
So Sean I Am, Please quit your (it trailed off as she shut the garage door)."

Go Cougs!!!

Leaves

2008-11-09T20:34:00.000-08:00

Tayler has been trying to get me to make a leaf pile for years. We finally had enough leaves.

So while Jess was at work yesterday, her four kids (including me) played in the leaves.

As I was cleaning up the leaves, Tayler started collecting the best ones. "Daddy, for family home evening I want to teach you all how to rub leaves."

Sounded good to me.

She collected hundreds of leaves into two ziploc freezer bags and labeled one with her name and one with Rylees.

Tonight we made the art.

Please Bless THIS!

2008-11-07T05:23:00.000-08:00

The Situation
Wednesday night Jess was gone with the Young Women.
That left Dad home with the kids.
Decided to make something quick and easy for dinner (and rotate something out of our food storage)...
Lasagna Hamburger Helper.

The Preparation
The girls were not the least bit excited about it.
They kept asking what it was while I was cooking it.
Tayler started to disclaim how hungry she really was and how she "probably didn't need much dinner tonight".

I slaved away for about 20 minutes (well, 14 minutes of that time was me watching TV, stirring the contents of the simmering pan "occasionally" as instructed on the box).

The Prayer
As we sat down to eat, Rylee wanted to say the prayer.
Rylee (halfway through the prayer): "please bless THIS!"
I could sense three-year-old sarcasm and had to open my eyes to see what she was talking about.
Rylee's face was filled with disgust and she was pointing down at her plate of lasagna Hamburger Helper.
Thanks Rylee. (Aren't the most sincere prayers answered first?)

The Meal
Tayler: "What is this dad??"
Dad: Lasagna Hamburger Helper
Tayler: It doesn't look like lasagna
Dad: The noodles are just smaller (I failed to add, and there's less cheese, it's not set up in layers, the sauce is way different, it might be a year old, and it's a good night to make it because your mom isn't here and she hates this stuff).
Tayler: I want cereal.
Tayler: When is mommy going to be home? She would let us eat cereal.
Dad: Eat it Tayler. I didn't even give you very much.
Tayler: Well, I guess I'll eat it this time...
Tayler (added for good measure): But I'm never eating this again.

The Post-Meal/Pre-Bedtime Snack
Tayer (with sidekick Rylee right behind her just before bedtime): Daddy, can Rylee and I have some peaches?
They ate the entire jar of peaches.

Hindsight
Remember the jingle? (Picture the living animated white glove with the little face) "Hamburger Helper, Helps the Hamburger, Help Her (or Him), Make a Great Meal!"
Right...

The Good News
Well, at least Jayson and I ate it.

Afterthought
Tayler's right. If Jessica were there, she and the girls would have eaten cereal.

Haunted by Halloweens Past

2008-11-01T07:41:00.000-07:00

Halloween got me thinking about a little trend of regrets from some of my costumes of the past...

I have a memory of an elementary school superman costume. I remember struggling in the bathroom stall to put on my blue tights properly. I also remember, at that very moment, wishing I had chosen a different costume.

I remember a halloween during high school, where one of my best friends Keith escorted me to a Halloween party/dance at the stake center. I say "escorted" because I was his date. He was a real gentleman. He even helped me in and out of the car. My mom helped me with my costume. It came complete with long-haired wig, eyeshadow, mascara, and lipstick. Cute little blouse. Short skirt. High heels and nylons or tights (not sure which one, not sure I really know the difference). I was very thin back then and frighteningly cute (at least on that night) if I must say so. It took quite a while before people realized who I really was.

The slow dancing was nice.

Keith only got a hug at the doorstep. After all, it was only our first date.

All-in-all....not sure that night was my finest moment.

Halloween 2005.

Worst costume decision to date.

We were invited to a costume party at a neighbor's house. I had refused to go the year before, since I couldn't decide on a costume, so I ended up baby sitting a bunch of neighbor kids. Jess went without me.

This time I told Jess I would go with her to the party if she found me a costume.

Momentary lapse in judgement.

I came home from work to a Kimono, flip flops, a parasol, wig, and face makeup.

Geisha girl.

Correction...Geisha girl that looks like a really bad imitation of Boy George.

I made quite an impression that night. Several of the neighbor guys pretended to flirt with me throughout the evening. I did win best costume.

And got a few phone numbers.

This is what I saw when I looked closely in the mirror. Kinda freaked me out. Must've freaked out a few others. A year later, several people brought this up in their testimonies during church one sunday. Nice.

The kids were creeped out--and scared. They got used to me enough to pose for our 2005 Family Halloween picture. Rylee was the cute little lamby. Tayler was a little Tiger (or "Tigger" in her mind), Jess was whatever it is that costume was, and I was a creepy-looking, anything-but-feminine, Geisha girl.

Coincidently, that was the last Halloween I have dressed up for. Next time I dress up--no lipstick, no tights, no skirts, no kimonos.

I might use the parasol though.

Lucky Seven

2008-10-27T16:55:00.001-07:00

I couldn't believe she would marry me....

Now I can't believe she has stayed with me for seven years.

I love you Jessica! You are the love of my life.

Happy Anniversary Baby!

The Good, The Bad, & The Ugly

2008-10-23T06:37:00.000-07:00

The Good
Last night Tay and I were looking through paint swatches. She was trying to convince me that Jess was crazy not to let her paint her room blue. As I was thumbing through the swatches, she was climbing all over me and kept putting her arms around my neck and squeezing a bit too hard. "Tay, why do you have to hang all over me?"

"Daddy, I haven't seen you all day".

The Bad
Waking up this morning when the alarm went off at 5am. My whole body was sore from working out. It was still dark outside. And cold. I just wanted to take a day off and spend the next few hours under the covers.

The Ugly
Everyone that knows Jess really well (namely, me, Tay, Rylee, and Jayson) knows how much she likes to pick at skin blemishes. She often makes small blemishes worse (and bigger, and sometimes bloody). Her favorite thing to do is to pop our zits. Especially mine. Especially the ones on my scalp that pop loudly. I tolerate it because it makes her happy---and sometimes it helps me out.

Last night I had one on the inside of one of my nostrils. It has been getting more and more painful for the past few days. It's the kind that makes your eyes water when you try to pop it. I couldn't get my fat fingers in there to pop it, so I turned to Jess. She made me let her search for face and scalp zits first (picture a monkey picking through the fur of it's branch-mate). She wasn't that excited to help me out because of the location. She made me clean the nostril thoroughly before she attempted.

She squeezed so hard, I thought my head was going to explode.
"Did you get it?" I said through watering eyes.
"No"
She squeezed again.
"Did you get it?" Tears were streaming down my face.
"No"
She tried one more time.
Then she got up and walked away.
"Did you get it?" My face felt like it was going to burst.
"Nope. I just threw up in my mouth."

Guess I'm on my own for the nostril zits in the future. And my nose hurts worse than ever.

Red over Blue

2008-10-21T18:52:00.000-07:00

No, I haven't denounced the BYU Cougars after their beat-down at the hands of TCU. I still bleed blue. And I'm still cheering against Utah.

However, I am mighty proud of my red-ribbon chili. Took second at the Major Meadows Ward Soup and Chili cookoff. It doesn't matter to me that there weren't as many chili entries as in years past. And it doesn't matter to me that I didn't win the blue-ribbon (well, mostly doesn't matter). After all, I lost to Marlow Palmer--who has won the chili cookoff about four or five years running. He won again by a landslide. Come to think of it, that's why there were more soup entries this year. People are switch-hitting. Marlow's too tough.

Mine was a three bean, four meat chili. Mine looked and tasted more like chili than his. Although his tasted waaaaay better. Kind of like a savory meat soup. Yep--the judges were meat lovers.
The worst part is, by the time I got a chance to even taste his, I had to scrape the sides of the dutch oven. I ended up with only two spoonfuls of pure meat-lover heaven.

Next year I'm going for blue. I've got Marlow in my sites. We may not be living in the boundaries by then, but I still figure I could cook up a batch of something tasty and have someone submit it for me. One thing's for sure--it better be meat-based if I'm gonna beat Marlow and his trusty ol' dutch oven. I also may have to start basting and tenderizing on Monday for the Saturday contest. (I heard Marlow started on Tuesday).

I was feeling really good about my chili when we got home after the contest. Jess didn't even get to eat anything all night because she was too busy hosting the party as our Ward Activities Committee Chair Person. Shout out to Jess for a fabulous job!!! She said she hadn't eaten anything all day and was starving. Says she forgot to eat (wish I had her memory). So I offered her my award winning chili. There was enough left for one bowl.
She said it was "delicious". She made my night.

Later on I went to the kitchen to do the dishes and soak my crockpot. There was Jess' bowl of my red-ribbon chili.
Sitting in the sink.
Still full of chili.
Must've really been one "delicious" bite.

Blog-cation

2008-10-07T11:17:00.000-07:00

So I have been on a little Blog-cation of sorts.
Not because I've been extraordinarily busy or anything.
Not because I don't have plenty of meaningless things to say (Jess, kids and coworkers can attest to that).
I guess I've kinda forgotten about my blog for the past ten days.
Remembered about it this morning.
I'm not planning on catching up. Just gonna pick things up from here.

Spoiled by the Parkway

2008-09-26T07:52:00.001-07:00

So Legacy Parkway has shortened by commute by half!

Until this morning. A wreck just before Kaysville blocked off three of four lanes. Fortunately nobody looked like they were injured.

I hate stop and go traffic. But it did allow me to enjoy a few signs I would have otherwise missed.

1) Fines double for speeding in construction zone.
Really? This sign has been completely useless for the past year or so--unless 12 mph can be considered speeding.

2) Electronic speed deterant mechanism:
Speed Limit 55
Your Speed:
5....6...0....0....5
Again--really good use of money in the construction zone in the Davis County corridor UDOT.

3) Ill-informed traffic lady on morning radio:
"traffic through Davis County Southbound slows down at 200 North in Kaysville and continues as stop and go through Farmington"
When she said that, I had been on the freeway for 45 minutes, moved about 2 miles, and still had a mile to go before 200 North in Kaysville.
Turns out, the crash was at 200 North. We were back up to freeway speeds from there through Farmington.

Her insight was very helpful. Just like the signs.

The Legacy House

2008-09-24T20:41:00.001-07:00

On Tuesday night I went to the Legacy House to make sure my Grandma Dunroe ate her dinner. My dad is out of town and Jess filled in on Monday, my turn was Tuesday. Jess had a ball on Monday night. She sat down with Clara (my grandma) and four other ladies. She had the same conversation with them multiple times.
My experience was different.

I was about five minutes late. When I arrived, Clara was sitting at a table, alone, with her grilled cheese sandwich cut up in small squares, cup of hot cocoa already gone, and fritos scattered around her plate.
She looked up at me as I sat down.
She had no clue who I was.
I spoke to her for about thirty seconds. Then I realized that although I was talking loudly, she hadn't heard a word I had said.
She looked very worried about something and ate with her head down.
After about five minutes, she looked up at me and asked, "Do you know anyone from Denmark?"
"No". I shook my head so I wouldn't have to yell over the show tunes being played by a volunteer in the adjoining dining hall.
"My son was born here. My daughter too. My son is over in Denmark." (no, he's on a cruise in Alaska)
"He's been over there for two years" (more like two days)
"I don't know how to help from over here."
"I just don't know how to help."

Obviously I wasn't sure how to help. I wasn't exactly sure what she thought he was doing over there and how she was expected to help.

She ate quietly.
I told her several times, well--yelled at her several times--to "try not to worry about helping him. He's doing just fine."

After a while she asked me where my parents lived. Then she wanted to know where their parents lived.
"My Grandma Bodily lives in an apartment near here. Both my grandpas are dead. My other grandma lives in a place like this."
She nodded as though she understood how that must be.
Interesting. She knows exactly how that must be.

The nursing home aides came by several times to check on Clara. They also yelled so she could hear.
"Would you like some more cocoa Clara?"
She just shook her head, "I just don't know what to say".

After Clara had cleaned off most of her plate, I told her goodbye and headed on my way.
I'm not sure she even realized I was leaving. Nor did she care. She was still worried about how to help her son who has been over in Denmark for two years.

Jess came home laughing at all the enjoyable conversation she had at the nursing home on Monday night. My experience couldn't have been more different.

My Other Mother

2008-09-17T06:10:00.000-07:00

So on Monday night while I was working on my little project, I had to run into the garage to get a piece of pipe to fix a sprinkler. I must have left the gate open because when I came back around the house, Jayson was standing outside our fence, the gate of which was now closed, balling his eyes out. I wasn't sure if he was afraid because he found himself alone on the side of the house, or if it was because Ginger (the neighbors vicious German Shepard) was rabidly barking at him through the chain link fence gate that keeps her in the back yard of our neighbor's house.

Jess arrived at the scene at the same time I did and was asking Tayler why she didn't try to go help her brother. Apparently, Tayler was on the other side of our gate, screaming for someone to help Jayson, but too afraid of Ginger herself to go rescue him.

Fortunately, Jayson hadn't been bitten. When I hauled Jayson back into our yard I questioned Tayler.

Loving Father capitalizing on a "teaching moment": "Tayler, Ginger can't get out of the fence. Why didn't you go help your brother?"

Crickets. (20 seconds of silence....)

Tayler: "Dad, Maybe you should've closed the gate so Jayson wouldn't follow you out there."

Good point Tay.

The Foreman

2008-09-17T06:07:00.001-07:00

On Monday night we played a little outside as a family and I tried to finish touching up the small paver pad I have had to completely re-do (and put off for almost two full summers). I haven't had huge chunks of time to work on it, so I do a little here and a little there.

Tayler was slightly annoyed that I was working on it again. She came over to supervise.

"Daddy, shouldn't this have been a one day job? Why didn't you just get up early one day and get it all done at once?"

Thanks Tay (who has never herself been awake to see the sun rise). I'll get up earlier next time.

Man-Date One

2008-09-09T07:00:00.000-07:00

To fully appreciate this story, you must know that Spencer thrives at times making his friends feel slightly uncomfortable.

On Wednesday night Spencer and I headed out to Downtown Disney for dinner. The concierge told us it was just across the street. We could wait for the shuttle or just take the short walk. Thirty minutes later we arrived (me somewhat damp from the humidity) at the House of Blues for dinner.

One of the four hostesses waiting anxiously to seat guests: How many in your party?
Me: Two please

I started at this point to realize that it kinda felt a little awkward being alone with Spencer all day long. In a “missionary companion” sorta way. Major differences from the mission: no ties, no companion study, no testimony-sharing and separate rooms—separated by four floors. Apparently, spending so much time together seemed funny to Spencer for a different reason.

The server at the House of Blues really seemed to like Spencer. And Spencer wasn’t even that charming. In fact, he was rather subdued. Until the check came.
Waiter: Would you like one check or two?
Me: Just one please.
Spencer: (grinning from ear to ear) We’re to-geth-er.

Thirty seconds later…
Spencer: Well, I didn’t want him to think he could flirt with you. I wanted to spare you from a potentially awkward situation.
Thank you Spencer. That wasn’t awkward at all.

Working with Graphic Designers is Fun

2008-09-08T08:19:00.000-07:00

This picture has now made it's way around the office with the following caption:

Mancation II: A night at the Epcot

And punchline:
When it's no longer safe to take the kids to Disney World. . .

What you can't see is the bobbling heads and the little sparkles in our teeth because I don't know how to get the animation to be included.

The Perks of Bellhopping at the Buena Vista Palace--Orlando

2008-09-08T08:13:00.000-07:00

After the conference, I went upstairs to change.
In the middle of my clothing change, the TV was too loud and I was on the phone with co-worker Tami. I didn’t hear someone yelling for me through the door. But I thought I heard a knock. Better go to the door to tell Spencer I’m not quite ready yet.
Me: “Tami, can you hold on a second?”
Me (thinking—and somewhat startled as I round the corner): ‘Oh. Hello there bell boy. Glad you’re a guy. Thank you so much for opening the door when you didn’t hear an answer and bringing in a logo’d shaving bag gift from a convention vendor.’
Bellboy: “Did I wake you? Sorry about that”
Me: “Nope”
Me (thinking): ‘just like to hang out in my underwear. Bet this wasn’t what you had in mind when the job posting read “base salary plus tips”’.

Might have been worth it though (at least for me). Just two nights ago I was complaining to Jess that I couldn’t find my shaving bag.

Conference People (Day 2 Recap Continued)

2008-09-08T08:07:00.000-07:00

The only thing better than people-watching at any Walmart, or the Utah Arts Festival, is people-watching at a multi-day conference. At a conference you are often allowed to observe the evolution of people throughout the week. This can, however, ruin people watching. Sometimes you eventually meet the people you have observed and form different opinions—often more positive. (Life lesson here about judging people I guess. I will save my hypocritical comments about not judging people for a “Sunday Thought” another time.)

The “Executive Administrative Assistant”: This is the sometimes attractive, surgically-altered lady who basically shadows a much older executive boss everywhere he goes. Could be that she needs to stay close to her “sponsor” in case someone asks her a dental question she doesn’t know. How busy must that old guy be to need a personal assistant at the conference with him? Hmmmm. Makes ya wonda.
“British Teeth” Person: It isn’t really a dental hygiene conference so I don’t know what I was expecting. But it is dental-related. Saw more of these than I anticipated.
Early arrivers: These are the people who are in the conference room twenty minutes early, notepad in hand, sitting alone at the table staring into their a coffee mug.
Notetakers: Feel like they need to have a pen and notepad with them everywhere they go. Might miss something VERY valuable. Something potentially career-altering. Yep. I fall into this category.
Non-notetakers/Ploggers: Yep, Spencer’s group. They just retain things really, REALLY well.
Joe Casual: Doesn’t matter what you wear at the business casual conference—as long as you look better than this guy. Saw two of them on Day 2. One had on a loud Hawaiian shirt with khaki pants. The other had on a short-sleeve dress shirt, with shorts, leather moccasins, and no socks. By day three these two might, just might, be seen in a break-out session with only board shorts, flip-flops, and a “fruity” drink with a little umbrella.
Frankie Formal and Fancy Nancy: Frankie is dressed like he’s headed to either a semi-formal senior prom or a high-profile job interview. Nancy looks like she’s paid on a part-time basis to model the next fall fashion line for Nordstrom. A little much at the business-casual dental insurance conference.
Hairplug Lady: This forty-something gal is trying her best to look twenty-something. She has a huge fake pony tail sitting high on the back of her head. Worst part--it’s not even close to matching her regular (slightly gray) hair color. That, and it looks like some sort of dead animal. It’s like a color mullet—old gal in the front, young chick in the back.
Over-eager Sales Guy from Minnesota: Accidently say hi to this guy and you’re exchanging business cards and email addresses and eventually trying to un-schedule a webcast. You’ll also end up with a phone call from Minneapolis every Monday morning for the next 8 months.
The Grizzwalds: These folks bring their whole family to the conference since they get a free hotel, flight, and meal. Now many people do this. In fact, I almost did. The difference with these people is they never actually attend the conference since they’re out with their family the entire day riding rides and buying souveniers. Gotta love these guys. You never actually see them at the conference, but you run into them occasionally at the hotel restaurants at night. They often order one appetizer, one main course, one side salad, one dessert, one drink, and four waters to split with the entire family. The dinner receipt makes it through Finance and nobody bats an eye. The greasy receipt with five churros purchased at the amusement park in the middle of the day is a little tougher sale the following Monday.
No Socks Guy: This guy has a button down white shirt, a black jacket, tan slacks, and black loafers with no socks. Maybe it’s a mistake. Maybe not. Especially bad with the two top buttons undone allowing large amounts of chest hair to peak through.
Buffalo Wing Sauce Stain on His Shirt Guy: Yep, that stupid wing (the second one I ate) fell off the wing plate and slid down the front of my shirt at the sports grill. Had my plate too close to the edge of the table. Didn’t have Jess there to point out ahead of time that my plate was too close to the edge like she does for the girls. Sure do miss her. Don’t worry Jess, at least I was smart enough not to wear that shirt to the conference today.

Orlando Conference--The Opening Act

2008-09-06T07:06:00.000-07:00

The conference breakfast was the standard continental variety. I’m not really sure why they call it that. If by “continental” they mean “cold carb choices only” or “hungry again by 10am”, then they picked the right name. There was no place to set our stuff. We just stood over by a wall and tried to balance the tiny plate, glass of juice, napkin, and notebooks we were carrying while we ate.

We filed into the large conference room like a herd of sheep and suffered through the conference reunion/introduction—which included a painful slide show of conferences past and pictures of previous award winners. There was even a standing ovation for someone we didn’t know. Spencer cheered loudly and laughed. I closed my eyes and pretended it was all a bad dream—or something more enjoyable—like an Amway convention.
The first meeting was a motivational seminar on leadership by a great speaker—Steve Farber (more on the highlights of this another time). Spencer and I sat by a lady (Christine) from Brazil who was struggling to understand the speaker because he spoke so fast and English is her second language. I was closest to her so I would translate for her when she got confused.

The translation that made Spencer laugh out loud: a powerpoint slide that showed a close-up of an Olympic skeleton rider who was just diving onto his sled. Across the picture were the letters “OS!M” He told us what it meant. It’s the feeling you get the first time you jump head first onto the sled and see how steep the death-defying drop looming in front of you really is. It’s an “Oh [Shoot] Moment”. Christine couldn’t understand what he said and wanted me to translate it for her.

Longest minutes of this seminar: When the fairy godmother came out and cast a spell on all of us. Then had us join her and cast our own spell with our pretend magic wands. Only in Disney World. Tayler and Rylee would’ve loved it. Spencer did too.

Spencer’s review of this seminar: “I don’t like buzzwords and don’t like to be motivated”.
Oh, you must’ve l-o-v-e-d the past three hours then.

Second most painful moments of this seminar: The dreaded group discussion. Naturally I wasn’t listening when he gave the instructions about what we were supposed to talk about. Didn’t really matter. Nobody at our table really wanted to talk about the subject anyway. Someone wisely threw out that Christine was from Rio de Janiero. That led to a five minute discussion on the fun and purpose of the holiday/celebration/contest called Carnival.

Most painful moments of this seminar: Self-promotion guy. During the open Q&A, the microphone was passed to a guy who was really anxious to maximize the attendance at the afternoon break-out session he was leading. He didn’t ask a question. He instead pretended to ask a question while prattling on for several minutes about his opinion on the topic and plugging for his afternoon session. I never got a good look at him. I recognized his voice however. Later on, just before the afternoon session, Spencer and I were lounging on the uncomfortable chairs in the lobby. I asked Spencer if we were having fun yet. Then like fingernails on a chalkboard, I heard self-promotion guy’s voice coming from a smiling man who had passed us seconds before my comment. He yelled back over his shoulder, “if you want to have fun, come to my session that’s just about to start”. He sensed, and acknowledged, the sarcasm in my response. (Side note: Neither Spencer or I went. But Spencer said he could hear people thru the wall, roaring with laughter throughout self-promotion guy’s presentation. Guess we should’ve gone).

The Conference Nerd
Like a conference nerd, I took notes of the highlights of Steve’s presentation. Spencer sat there and soaked it in. After the break he returned with a notebook. I thought he was going to take notes, but instead he was Plogging. That’s my new word for writing down your next post on paper because it would be too disrespectful to use a laptop during someone else’s presentation. It’s how they used to blog before the internet. I think people also call it journaling. So Spencer Plogged away. Didn’t ever see him write down anything about dental insurance, or heaven forbid, successful leadership strategy. But thankfully his next post is ready for publication.

Orlando Trip: The Man-Cation

2008-09-05T12:31:00.000-07:00

The Pre-vacation Anticipation
This past week I spent a few days in Orlando at a Dental Insurance conference at Disney World. Spencer Sutherland, who works in my department, came along and made the trip a “man-cation”. The original plan months ago was to bring our spouses and children along to make it a Disney World family vacation. However, both Jessica and Tracy managed to get out of the trip. I don’t know Tracy’s reasons, but Jessica and I factored the cost, the long flight with little Jayson, and the fact that for three days they would have to hang out without me while I attended the conference. The overall cost outweighed the benefits. So it was just Spencer and I.

Strangely enough, Spencer informed me this trip would make or break our relationship. He also informed me a few days before we were leaving that he doesn’t travel much. In fact he has never been on a business trip. He was planning for me to take charge and he would be along for the ride. I got a message from him at 9:45 Monday night. “Are you on the same flight as me? If so, I will stop worrying and just show up and let you take care of everything.” Oh goody.

Day 1
Tayler cried Monday night when we said goodbye. In order to calm her down, I told her I would wake her up before I left. I did. She cried even harder. As I was getting into the car, Tayler, Rylee and Jessica waived and shouted goodbyes from an upstairs window. Tayler was still trying to fight off the tears. Rylee seemed as happy as a clam. Jess (rightly so) seemed annoyed that I woke them up.

Spencer (at the airport): “this is the longest I will have been away from Tracy since we’ve been married.” Glad I can be there for you Spencer.

Riding on a plane these days seems a lot like riding a train or the city bus. You see some very interesting people. My favorite was the lady who was standing in line at the gate with her inflatable head supporter already positioned around her neck twenty minutes before boarding. Fortunately I got a window seat. Perfect for the 300 pound guy with broad shoulders.

When we got to the airport, we grabbed our luggage and headed to the counter to buy shuttle tickets for a ride to the airport. Great. The lady at the counter is helping a difficult customer. For twenty minutes. While we stand in line. Spencer mumbles something about almost getting the tickets online the night before. Good thing he delegated all responsibility to me. We finally got our tickets and were told it would be a twenty minute wait. We were given a round buzzer with lights (just like you get at the lobby of the Olive Garden). When you’re there (Olive Garden), you’re family. When you’re in the basement at the Orlando airport, you get no breadsticks, salad, or pasta—only uncomfortable wicker furniture. It was now 6 pm and we hadn’t eaten since breakfast.

Forty-five minutes later the pager went off. We headed out to the shuttle and found ourselves the last to board—apparently the last people buzzed. The driver looked annoyed. There was only one seat empty and there were two of us. Spencer let me take the front seat (well, all I know is he didn’t try to push me out of the way when I went to get in). I think Spencer sat on someone’s lap.

When we got to the hotel, we checked in, ate at a sports grill, and retired to our rooms. The nightmare of "back east" travel is that you can’t go to bed until really late at night (due to the two hour time jump) but still have to get up at 4:30 am (back home time). It’s lovely. Thank goodness Jess cut my hair last night or I would have had an afro with all the humidity. I love feeling sticky. (Day 2 highlights to come)

MDRJ & T

2008-09-05T07:46:00.000-07:00

Tay can hardly stand it when the family isn't all together.
When one of us has to leave, even for a short time, she often can't hold back the tears.
When Tay was younger, Jess used to often offer to leave Rylee home when we were all heading out to eat or to some other activity. Tay would almost cry at the thought of leaving Rylee home and would beg us to let Rylee come too.

Her need to have everyone included extends to all of her drawings. Drawing is one of Tayler's favorite things to do, and she rarely draws a picture without including, somewhere along the top, the letters "MDRJ" and she sometimes remembers to include "T".
Mom, Dad, Rylee, Jayson, and Tayler.

Looking Back, and Down, on Idaho

2008-09-02T19:37:00.001-07:00

The first part of July we went on a trip to Boise to see our little neice's baptism.
It was a great trip, but being back in Idaho forced me to ponder some deep questions I've always had about the relationship between Idaho and Utah.

The big question on my mind was how Iahoans view Utahns. Growing up it always seemed like Utahns "look down" on Idahoans in some respects. Similar to how many citizens of the United States seem to view French people. Well maybe that's a bad example. We don't really view Idahoans as ingrates who've never given us the credit for bailing them out of a world war and who would be willing to surrender at the first sign of an altercation. (Note: I don't feel that way about the country of France, or it's citizens, but I think you'd be lying if you say you haven't heard these opinions expressed by fellow Americans. No, my recollections from visiting France on numerous occasions as a child are simply limited to how annoyed they were that we didn't speak French, needed to bother them by asking directions, had five kids...oh, and the look of disgust they always seemed to have on their face when having to deal with stupid Americans. That...and great bakeries!)

Maybe the better comparison of how some Utahns view Idahoans is how some Americans view Canadians. In a "close, but not quite" sorta way. I have heard Canadian condescension all my life from US citizens. I've heard people point out how Canada has contributed nothing to the advancement of civilization aside from Canadian Bacon (which is viewed as a 'step up' from its meat-cousin 'ham' at pizzerias). Or how prominent Canadians always seem to become American citizens. Or most recently, sports talk radio hosts poking fun of Canada's low medal count for much of the Beijing olympics this summer (the grand Canadian medal total at the time was zero. They finished ranked 14th with 18 total medals compared to the US total of 110).

Or, perhaps the better comparison is how the rest of the world seems to view the United States. The idiot, arrogant cowboy that's nice to have on your side during a war, but otherwise should butt out and mind their own darn business.

I admit as a youth I viewed Idaho and Idahoans according to the stereotypes. Potato farmers. Country folk. Simple life. Idaho.

As we traveled north this summer, I couldn't distinctly see the difference geographically as to where Utah ended and Idaho began. It all sort of blended together. As I sat in church on Sunday I couldn't help but noticing the ward we attended in Idaho seemed no different than any ward I've attended in rural Utah. An occasional testimony borne involving a life lesson learned on a farm. They even seemed to have the same helpful, friendly, small-framed elderly man with a full head of silver hair, thick horned rimmed glasses, bushy gray eyebrows, complete with a powder-blue suit. In short, the differences were much less than I'd been led to believe growing up.

So how do Idahoans view Utahns? I was going to ask a few locals, but then figured I could probably guess the answer. My supposition is they look down on us. We are, in fact, an easy stereotype. Mormons. No fun. No alcohol. No night life. Well, and the whole polygamy history comes to mind. Or the fundamentalist polygamist communities of the present. Yep, an easy target. To be honest, it doesn't seem like the view Idahoans would have towards Utahns is all that different than the opinion the rest of the country has of Utahns. Same stereotypes seem to exist throughout the country.

So why do we have to look down on any state or any country? I guess it's a juvenile solution to make us feel better about who we are and where we're from.

Well, my reflections while in Idaho didn't generate any real answers. In fact the only conclusion I came to during my trip this summer was a Jeopardy answer (i.e. framed in the form of a question). Is it worse to be the state everyone in the country looks down on???? Or is it worse to be the state looked down on by the state the rest of the country looks down on?

Sunday Thought--The Natural Man

2008-08-31T21:41:00.000-07:00

I was talking with a friend the other day about the "natural man" and what the term means to me. The concept was taught by a king in Ancient America who explained that “the natural man is an enemy to God”.

In my opinion, the “natural man” exists inside everyone to varying degrees. The “natural man” tendencies often present themselves as our first innate reaction to situations that occur in daily life. I believe the overarching challenge we’re all presented with in life is to overcome these “natural man” tendencies and change ourselves in such a way that we don’t respond as a “natural man”. Instead we become Godlike individuals who can control completely our own reaction (including our thoughts) in any situation and learn to love others unconditionally.

Some “natural man” tendencies include greed, selfishness, withholding deserved praise from others, “looking out for number one”, lust, anger, passive aggressive behavior, the desire to control others, idleness, being consumed with our outward appearance, conditional love, etc. The list could go on and on, but typically the "natural man" tendencies seem to result from attempting to satisfy our own needs without regard to the needs of those around us.

The Book of Mormon illustrates a story of an entire people in ancient America who were able to put aside their “natural man” tendencies and learn to control their actions in a Godlike manner. These people were originally an idle people who believed that whatever they did was right in the sight of God—including murder. Surely this bloodthirsty people, able to murder without a second thought, were likewise guilty of succumbing to all of the “natural man” tendencies listed above and many more.

Remarkably however, upon their conversion to Christianity, these people recognized the need to eliminate these “natural man” tendencies and made covenants with God to do so. At the close of their story, we are told that they had distinguished themselves from the other Christians because of their “zeal toward God, and also towards men; for they were perfectly honest and upright in all things; and they were firm in the faith of Christ…and they did look upon shedding the blood of their brethren with the greatest abhorrence…” Many in fact gave their lives because they refused to arm themselves even when their families were attacked by their enemies.

As this example illustrates, it is possible to exercise the faith necessary to put “off the natural man” and gain complete control over our thoughts and actions in all situations. Doing so requires a change of heart. The power to make these changes has been made available to each of us through the Atonement of Christ.

Breakfast with Tay

2008-08-29T10:48:00.000-07:00

I didnt' work today. For various reasons.

Started the morning instead with my family.

Actually, started the day a little ahead of my family. Three of them take full advantage of every minute of beauty sleep (look at the results, how can I complain about that?) and Jayson's just lazy.

Thought I would clean the kitchen and living room before Jess got up. I made dinner last night and didn't get it all cleaned up. When Jess got home from shopping with Tay, I made her come downstairs and watch a movie with me. It took all the strength she had to watch the movie with me instead of deep cleaning the kitchen. She's like that. I'm not. In the story of Mary and Martha from the New Testament, she's a lot like Martha. I'm a lot not like Martha.

When Jess and Tay got up, Tay came down all ready for school and had breakfast with me. First grade is such a fun stage in life. She doesn't have a care in the world. Her biggest decision today was whether she wanted the school-provided cheese sandwich lunch or a mother-packed lunch from home. Every day Jess tries to talk her into eating school lunch. Every day Tayler chooses cold lunch from hope, usually a seve course meal packed with love. Today was no different. She opted for the Jessica special. Tough decision complete.

Let the fun begin. She told me about four jokes during breakfast--each one followed by her trademark giggle. What a happy girl.

Unfortunately, the carpool honked. Tay grabbed her backpack and headed for the door. "See you when I get home Daddy! I love you!"

I showed Rylee the DVD I picked out last night for her and Tay. "Hannah Montana and Mylee Cyrus in concert". Big mistake. Had to listen to Rylee performing "It's the Best of Both Worlds" all morning long into her plastic microphone. Completely off key. Blairing the few words she knows at the top of her lungs over, and over, and over. She can hardly wait till Tay comes home and the concert starts. She tried to talk us into an early showing sans Tay, but it was a no-go. Jess wouldn't budge. Good try Rylee. Her natural tendency is to look out for number one.

Just for fun Jess sent Jayson out to see me in a diaper and muscle shirt/wife-beater. Yep--It's a white trash breakfast at the Dunroes. Look for him in an upcoming episode of Cops being domestically abused by Rylee. Course, she'll probably cover her eyes and put herself in timeout before the cops arrive. Our little self-disciplinarian.

Stuffonmycat.com

2008-08-25T21:44:00.000-07:00

So I was introduced to a website the other day that is really quite disturbing. It's called stuffonmycat.com. It's a site for catlovers. Catlovers with cameras. Catlovers who put things on their cats and take pictures. Catlovers who put things on their cats, take pictures, and then post them online for other cat lovers to view whenever they're feeling blue. One of my coworkers, a catlover, goes to this site whenever she is feeling down. Then she attaches "cute" kitty pictures to emails when she corresponds with her coworkers.

The pictures are bizarre. I saw a cat with a pancake on it's head. I saw a cat with a helmet (complete with ear holes) made out of an orange peel. I saw a cat with a plate of half-eaten food placed on the cat's side while the cat was sleeping. Truly remarkable. Not the cats, but the people who take the pictures. Better yet, those who go view them.

What's better than the pictures though are the "fun" little captions.

Picture a cat, wearing a small apron, with various kitchen utencils in each pocket, and an oven mitt on each hand (er, paw). The caption above reads (you're probably supposed to read it aloud in a little "Kitty" voice)....."If I have to make one more cupcake I'm gonna scream".
True enough, the cat does, in fact, look annoyed. Downright ticked off in fact. Maybe he's been forced, by a mentally abusive cat owner, to make one too many cupcakes. Or maybe, just maybe, he feels completely stupid wearing that darn apron with the tiny rolling pin and wooden spoon!

Or another...

A gray and white cat with an unsolved Rubix cube sitting on it's back. The caption reads, "Peanut is stumped".
Oh the hilarity.
The cat, once again, looks bugged. But, I pause to think. Is it because the Rubix cube is too hard to solve? Is it because the Rubix cube is on the cat's back and prevents him from sleeping 23 and a half hours a day? Is it because the cat knows very well how to solve the puzzle but lacks the opposable thumbs necessary to manipulate the cube? Or is it because he's tired of being called Peanut?

Or, the sleeping orange cat who seems completely unaware of the little black paper top hat that is balancing carefully on his head. 'nuff said. No need to even mention the caption. Oh, why not? "That's one classy top-hat, if I do say so myself". I get the feeling this one should be read with a tried and true adult male cat voice with a touch of "Foghorn-Leghorn".

I wish I had thought of this twelve years ago. I would have had the perfect picture. In fact, I could have done multiple pictures with our family cat Cookie.

I came driving up to my parents house one afternoon and two of my sisters were on the driveway looking very disturbed. When I got out of the car, they motioned for me to come over to them. "We think something's wrong with Cookie", one of them said, with obvious cat-lover emotion welling up inside. "We've been calling him and whistling for him, but he won't come". Well that was not like friendly Cookie to not respond when my sister Sherra would vibrate her tongue off the roof of her mouth in a high pitched shrill. When I looked in the back of the garage, I saw Cookie stretched out on the garage floor, with his eyes open and his mouth wide open, and one front paw in the air. He was obviously stiff as a board.
"Something might be wrong with Cookie" I informed them.

Now, if I'd had a digital camera and incredible forethought, I could have taken about fifty pictures right then and there.
Caption 1: "That antifreeze sure tasted good!"
Caption 2: (with Cookie placed in tight leather cat suit holding a whip in his front paws) "Halle Berry's got nothing on this Catwoman! Rawr!"
Caption 3: (with a little brown hamster sitting on Cookie's head) "Jerry finally got the better of Tom"

Sorry if I offended any catlovers with my story. You're right, it would have been terribly rude and insensitive for me to do something like that to poor Cookie...

Would've been way more respectful to pose him for those pictures while he was still alive. Too bad I didn't. Could've made Jordan's (who sits a few cubicles away from my office) day.

Calling off the Dogs--I mean Dolphins

2008-08-24T20:44:00.000-07:00

Associated Press

Clearfield, Utah -- The Clearfield Blue Dolphins had their first game yesterday with their rookie coach. By Saturday morning at 10 am there was nothing left to do but play the game. Hours of game tape had been analyzed, weaknesses assessed, and strategies developed and rehearsed. Uniforms and schedules had been delivered Tuesday night and post-game snacks purchased. Grape Capri Suns had been chilled and transported to the field. It was show time.

The Dolphins are a rag-tag gang of five- and six-year-old soccer stars who arrived on the field with ribbons in their hair and the sweet nectar of competition coursing through their veins. Two of them are in their rookie season.
Hannah was shy and had a hard time leaving her mom. The other Dolphins had to be sent over to coax her out on the field.
Alexis (Lexy), also in her first year, was quiet and resolute. Very obedient and willing to do what was asked.
The other three played together last season. They had nerves of steel. There wasn't anything in the Clearfield Commission U-6 AYSO soccer league these wiley competitors hadn't seen before.

Isabelle (Belle) quieted the Purple Princess crowd 5 seconds into the game when she drove down the field and punched it in. Then she added another. (Moments later the Purple Princesses coach caught site of the earings Belle was wearing. That little showboat must have been trying to slide the bling past them all--probably knowingly--against league rules. Lucky they let her off with a warning. Next time she's sure to get carded.)
Rozlyn (Roz) added a couple more to the score. Coaxed on by her exhuberant dad, she celebrated with a handstand at midfield. Nearly cost them an unsportsmanlike conduct penalty.
First quarter ended 4-0.
The Purple Princesses snuck one by to start the second. Momentary lapse in concentration by the Dolphins. During the post-game interview, the coach took full responsibility of what he termed, "a lack of coaching preparation". He added, "it won't happen again".

Tayler (Tay) dashed the Purple Princesses new found hopes by nailing in three goals in the second.
Roz and Belle punished them in the third quarter and Tay and Roz finished them off in the fourth. Even the rookie Hannah finished a breakaway with a shot that narrowly missed (wide right). She also bounced back from a shoulder contusion that required a spur of the moment substitution and a little TLC from mom. Her teammates rallied around her. It was clear the overly aggressive Roz was sent in to punish the other team for knocking her new friend to the ground (she also appeared slightly annoyed to have to enter the game during her rest--and snack--period. But she reluctantly entered the game chewing a mouth full of cheddar cheese fish. Moments later she was begging for a drink.)

The rookie coach had a hard time calling off the dogs. He would send them back to play defense, but they would soon forget (or get bored) and take the ball down and score. It was difficult to hold back these fierce competitors without breaking their spirits. There was purple blood in the water and the dolphins could taste it. They had quite a day.

There was no Gatorade on the sideline, so someone (probably Jess) annoyingly shot the coach with a stream from a water bottle as the final whistle blew.
Final score was anywhere from 10, 11 (or maybe even 12) to 1.

Photo 1: The fire in their eyes was evident during the pre-game practice.

Photo 2: This little dolphin had a hard time following instructions from her new "soccer teacher", but ended up making her coach very proud in the end.

Post-game wrap up: Jess made me toss my twenty-year old pillow (see yesterday's post). Didn't sleep so well last night (might have had something to do with the dust mite nightmares). Hope it gets better from here. Also, Rylee informed her dad this morning that she will soon be big enough to play soccer and then her dad will be her coach "just like for Tayler". Oh dear. Look what we've started.

Pillow Talk

2008-08-23T05:23:00.001-07:00

So, for the thousandth time in our seven year marriage, Jess hid my pillow last night when I got up to get a drink. Fun game - unless you're really tired.

The conversation that ensued resulted in another reminder of her irritation with my pillow. For some reason, I have to use a really firm pillow (Jess calls it a cinder block). She's bought me several "firm" pillows over the years, and we have amassed quite a collection. But to her dismay, none of them can replace the cinder block. I really struggle at times falling asleep in hotel rooms when we travel...Unless I bring the block.

In my household, I fit right in. Afterall, Rylee and Jayson have to take their blankets with them when we travel (Tayler used to back when she was five). I understand Jess used to fall asleep as a teenager rubbing her face with the corner of her childhood blanket (sorry Babe, I felt compelled to disclose).

I really have tried to move on and find a replacement but so far, nothing comes close. What can I say, I've always been a man of commitment.

But maybe now's the time.
Because last night Jess reminded me about dustmites. I have heard that a large portion of an old mattress is composed largely of dust mites. It hadn't really occured to me that my pillow may be a habitat for them as well.

My Google request returned the following:
"Beds are a prime habitat (where 1/3 of life occurs). A typical used mattress may have anywhere from 100,000 to 10 million mites inside. (Ten percent of the weight of a two year old pillow can be composed of dead mites and their droppings.)"

Ten percent of a two-year-old pillow? Mites? Their DROPPINGS? Ten percent? I wonder what the percentage is for a 20-plus-year-old pillow that weighs about four times as much as any "firm" pillows you can by in the store--and a good bit more lumpy too? A pillow I believe used to be white, but now, even after a good bleaching, is at best a dull gray.
Nice. Comfy.

So last night it dawned on me, "It might be time to graduate to another pillow."
I set the block aside and rested my head on the new pillow.
My head sunk down into the pillow. It was kinda firm. Kinda soft. Maybe this is what it's really supposed to be like. Maybe the pillow is supposed to give a little and let your head settle in. Maybe it is supposed to conform slightly around your head. Maybe I could get used to this...

Maybe not.
I lasted about 23 seconds.
Tossed the new pillow onto the floor and grabbed the block. Sweet taste of Heaven.
I was out cold in minutes.

I'm gonna need some help. Maybe a 12-step program.
On second thought, 'do the mites really look that bad?' If you blur your eyes a bit, they kinda look like a very small turtle.

I have a feeling ol' reliable is about to get tossed by Jess. So here's a picture of my pillow without the pillowcases. Keep in mind the couch is tan.

Olympic Dreams

2008-08-21T08:21:00.000-07:00

I was awakened last night abruptly about 1 am due to severe lower intestinal discomfort that required immediate attention.

However severe the discomfort, it paled in comparison to the annoyance I felt when I realized I wasn't really competing in the gold medal match in co-ed (apparently, since I was in board shorts instead of a tiny bikini) beach vollyball in Beijing with my teammate Misty May. I was playing out of my mind too. The gold medal was ours for sure.

Interesting, with my love of swiming, that I wasn't anchoring Michael Phelps in the 4 x 100 freestyle relay against the French instead. After all, I am clutch.

Maybe it's better though. My intense lower intestinal discomfort in the middle of a crucial olympic relay leg may have muddied the water a bit for Michael Phelps and his quest for the record 8 gold medals.

Wardrobe Malfunctions

2008-08-21T06:33:00.001-07:00

Don't worry, put your TiVo remotes down. No Janet Jackson-Justin Timberlake impersonation going on here. Just noticed a recent trend of malfunctions in my wardrobe at work.

Yesterday:

Went to the gym before work. Trying to start the day with a metabolic boost.
Only one problem. Packed up all my work clothes--Salmon-colored shirt, matching tie (best I can tell), brown/tan slacks, belt, patterned brown socks, FORGOT MY DRESS SHOES.

Nice. The gym isn't right next door. And I didn't feel like losing another 20 minutes so early in the morning (plus there was a huge negative emotion associated with going back home, then retracing the path I had already taken back towards work last time I forgot my dress shoes). Yep. Embarrassed to say, this wasn't the first time this has happened to me.

So I proceeded to work accessorized (I don't think shoes are really an accessory, but I wanted so badly to use that word and I don't own a purse, man-bag, jewelry, or scarf) with my nice red Pearl Izumi running shoes. They look great--when you're wearing shorts, white socks and a T-shirt (or wife-beater if you're "that guy"). For the record--with a dress shirt, tie and slacks the red Pearl Izumis don't look quite as nice. I felt like the "keymaster" all day (you know, the character in the first Ghostbusters played by Rick Moranis with his highwater slacks and sneakers). Either that, or the night manager at a Wendy's or sporting goods store (minus the short-sleeve dress shirt).

Needless to say, "nice shoes" comments were tossed my direction all day. Thanks co-workers (and boss) for pointing it out to anyone who didn't notice on their own.

Wardrobe-related Highlight of the Workday: Taking a suit coat from a much smaller-framed co-worker (who had a job interview) and performing my version of Tommy-Boy's "fat guy in a little coat". The highlight wasn't my impersonation, it was Spencer looking at me strangely for 20 seconds and then suddenly realizing the suit jacket was his.

His response (about 20 seconds later than I'd hoped): "Is that my jacket?" (It just dawned on me. Might he have actually thought it was mine?)
Me: "yep"
Him: "OK. Now I'm just waiting to hear a tearing sound".

Thankfully I didn't complete the impersonation or I'd have had to buy a new suit for someone.

Wardrobe malfunction #2: Flying home from Boise a month or so ago on a Monday morning. Being picked up at the airport by a coworker and being taken straight to work. Belt buckle detaches itself from my belt at the Boise airport security line. Hiking my pants up and holding them with one hand the entire walk through two airports (one of them from the farthest point on the tarmac), and the stroll to my office (and every time I had to get up and sit down on the plane) in order to avoid terrified shrieks, awkward glances, and indecent exposure charges. Fortunately MacGyver here was able to round up some wire in my office (not sure why I had it) and jimmy-rig my belt so it would work for one work day.

MacGyver Side note: I failed however to fashion an explosive device out of a stick of chewing gum, an empty white-out bottle, a dry-erase marker, and an Intermountain Healthcare-branded hacky-sack.

Wardrobe malfunction #3: Two days after the belt incident, I realized during a trip to the restroom that my fly was open, even though the zipper was up. The darn zipper broke. I had to hold a folder in front of my nether-region and go from cubicle to cubicle quietly begging for safety pins. Thanks co-workers for not laughing too loudly and for having safety pins at your desk. Also thanks for the tip about putting the pants inside out before you pin the crotch shut so people can't see the safety pin. It worked much better the second go-round after your timely advice.

Interesting how many more times than normal you have to go number one in a day when you've safety pinned your pants crotch shut with five safety pins. Thank goodness for stalls in the men's room.

Jens Nielsen Family Reunion

2008-08-17T20:48:00.000-07:00

When you think of a family reunion, do you have the same thoughts as me???? ......

Relaxing at a park under the shade of an enormous maple. Eating original recipe Kentucky Fried Chicken, potato salad, corn on the cob, and Aunt Edna's homeade brownies. Reminiscing about old times with grandpa and grandma. Overhearing the gleeful giggles of nieces, nephews and younger cousins competing in potato-sack races. The occasional clink of a ringer, (or thud of a horse-shoe in the sand), as Uncle Jack passes on the family tradition of tossing horse-shoes to the rising generation. Catching up on the comings and goings of a multitude of cousins who seem as excited about your life as you are theirs?

Well, wouldn't that be nice...

The Jens Nielsen family reunion is nothing like this (and never has been as far as I'm concerned)--except for the KFC.
Each year in August, we make the long pilgrimage to the same park in Riverton. We even use the exact same terrace at the park. True the drive is only about an hour, but it seems like an eternity. It's amazing how time seems to stand still when you know your entire evening is going to be sucked down the drain and you don't have the power to bring it back.

My dad has one sister, who has one daughter. Their two families, and my hearing impaired grandmother who is rapidly losing the battle of senility (bless her heart), are the only people we know at the reunion. She might even be the only survivor from Jens Nielsen's immediate family. And we only chit chat with them for a few minutes. I actually don't know anybody else at the entire reunion. In fact, I wouldn't recognize any of them if I ran into them today and the reunion was only a week ago. For all I know, they could've been complete strangers who were playing at the park and happened to wander over for free lemonade and a good time.

So all my siblings (who live about 15 minutes from each other) head down to this park in Riverton to hang out together. Except for Brother-in-law Trent whose prayers were answered this year when his family offered to take him waterskiing (coincidently I'm sure) on the same day as the Nielsen reunion. That sucker. His parting words to my sister were, "I'll try to make it back in time for dinner." Yeah right. We'll save you some chicken just in case--the drumstick nobody wants. Well that's nice. We promised our kids Asha and Ty would be there for them to play with, but they went with Trent. All I could do was shake my head in amazement and ask, "Sherra, why on earth didn't you go with them?"

If my siblings are like me, the sole reason they go each year is to prevent a guilt trip from my dad (Tom). (The notable exception is Shane, my younger brother who couldn't care less what Tom thinks but noticed a couple of years ago that a couple of the Nielsen-related clan were attractive young women in their late teens or early twenties. What hasn't actually occured to him--at least I hope it hasn't--is that even though we don't know any of them, WE ARE FREAKIN RELATED!!!!) Tom rarely gets excited about any family outing--at least not with my mom's side of the family. But for some reason he gets real stoked about his Grandpa Jens Nielsen's family reunion. He pretends he knows some of the people there. But he never really introduces us to any of them. I believe it's cause he thinks we'll find out they don't really know who he is.

Of course, there is the awkward moment every year when Tom or Aunt Carol have to stand up and introduce us to everyone not looking up from their dinner. Seriously, nobody even looks up; everyone keeps right on eating. Except for me. That's usually when I have to run to the Yukon to get "something". This year I managed to need my baseball and glove right at the moment when the awkward introductions were approaching our table. Didn't even occur to anyone that nobody else had a glove. Nothing like playing catch with yourself at the Jens Nielsen family reunion. Jess didn't even realize I was gone. She was busy pretending to feed Jayson without looking up.

This year was even more fun. We got to help out. I actually have to give Aunt Carol credit for making this the best reunion in years. She put in a ton of work, but still felt obligated to follow the same format we've followed for years. Eat in your own family unit. Awkward introductions. Games for the kids. (Our game was easy. Jess is brilliant. We just dumped a bunch of candy and small toys all over the grass and called it a treasure hunt. It was over in 1 1/2 minutes. Kids were happy. So were we.) The grand finale--The annual door prize giveaway.

This is where Aunt Carol pulled way ahead from her predecessors. Everyone there seemed to love the door prizes. I lost my ticket and thus forfeited my door-prize eligibility. I never even went up to the table to see what was there. I just believe Jess's testimony that this year the prizes were better. My older sister Shelly was sure her number wouldn't get called. She had a gut instinct. So she went up to the front and monitored Tom (over his shoulder) as he read the tickets. Sure enough, hers was the only number not called. Supposedly. My hunch is it was called at one of the moments when she was standing up there not paying attention. She did dig through the pile of called tickets and still couldn't find it. Poor thing. She actually likes the prizes every year. Would've been a shame if her brother (or someone) pulled her matching ticket stub from the drawing before it started. Definitely would've been a shame.

My collection of door prizes from the past: a hand knitted afgan (not sure if I spelled this right.) A plastic tissue box holder decorated with pink and green yarn, coconut-scented Suave shampoo, and a tin filled with hard-tack candy. In years past, it hasn't really mattered if my number was drawn first or last, the prizes all typically seem more suited for women. Probably cause they're usually made by women, for women.

The door-prize giveaway came early this year, thanks to the pouring rain that cut the kids games short--in fact, ours was the last game prior to the rain. I asked Tom if Jens Nielsen would want us to continue in spite of the rain and dangerously close lightning. I was disappointed to find out Jens would have wanted things to continue--at least according to Tom.

Carol's only mistake--allowing Tom to MC. His humor attempts were ill-fated. At times he would overhear conversation from my siblings at our table and respond or comment about it through the microphone for everyone else's listening pleasure. Nice. Good thing most people just kept eating and didn't seem to hear him.

The positives: The food was good. So was the snowcone. Our game finished quickly. Kids seemed to have fun. Trent had a good time waterskiing. Nobody got hit in the face with the baseball bat my sister brought for the pinata. It ended earlier than normal (at least for us). Tom's stint as reunion MC is over. Carol can rest for another 5 or 6 years (she did waaaay more work pulling it together than Tom--which I guess is to be expected).

The best positive: I made a formal announcement to Tom that this would be the last Jens Nielsen family reunion my little family would attend (and I blamed it on Jess--because he likes her way more than he does me and won't hold a grudge towards her). Nothing like one full year of advanced notice. My guess is Jens Nielsen would've respected that.

The Best Big Sister Ever

2008-08-15T08:49:00.000-07:00

Last night when I got home from work, Jess was still suffering from a 48 hour migraine. After dinner I tried to get her to go upstairs to take a hot bath. Jess is convinced a hot bath will cure anything (probably even cancer). So I knew this is what she needed.

It was really easy to get her to stop trying to clean up after dinner and go take a bath. After I hog-tied her, carried her up the stairs over my shoulder like a 110 pound bag of flour and barricaded the bathroom door, I believe she took a bath (the girls at least reported that she was in there with a book).

I decided I should mow the lawn or my OCD wife would try to do it today while I'm at work. I asked Tayler if she would keep Rylee and Jayson busy playing in the yard while I mowed the lawn. She agreed. However, I was only halfway done with the front yard when I noticed little Jayson wandering towards me. Alone. Tayler and Rylee were nowhere to be found. So I stopped mowing, picked him up, and waited for Tayler to remember she left him alone. I also couldn't help but think 'she's got to be the worst baby sitter in the world.'

She came out of the house a minute later and didn't have time to say a word before I questioned where she was and how on earth she could leave Jayson alone. What if I hadn't seen or heard him over the mower and he wandered out in the street? She looked down at the ground and then explained that Rylee had fallen, cut open her knee and was crying and bleeding. So she hurried and helped her into the house so Mom could take care of her and thought Jayson would be OK since I was out in the yard too. "I thought I better help Rylee, Daddy".

Good one Sean. I backtracked faster than bulldog who thought he'd sniff a porcupine. "Tayler, you did the right thing. Thank you for helping Rylee". She played with Jayson until I was finished with the yard and then took him inside. When I came in, she was sitting with him on the couch with her arm around him watching a cartoon. "Tayler, you did a good job baby sitting. Thank you, Sweetheart."
"Except for when I left Jayson and went inside with Rylee."
"Nope. You knew I was in the yard with him. You did the right thing. You are the best big sister to Rylee and Jayson"

I asked her to run upstairs and get on her PJs. As she handed Jayson over to me, he leaned back towards her and opened his mouth. (Yep. He has a preference for open mouth kisses. Look out ladies. This little Dunroe boy likes to cuddle.) He kissed her right by her mouth. Even he knows what a good big sister he's got.

Tayler got a little embarrassed. "Daddy, sometimes Jayson tries to kiss me on the lips".

Me: "He's a little silly. I guess he thinks he needs to practice."

(Quizzical look from Tayler.)

Me: "Nevermind. Will you get Jayson's jammies too. And a diaper. And a throw-up bowl for Dad?"

Clarifying note: I have a very sensitive gag reflex. When the diapers are really messy, I often gag, and gag, and gag. Nothing more than that. Just gagging. Saturday as Tayler watched me change a severly messy diaper I gagged. "Do you want me to go get you a bowl Daddy?"
'Not a bad idea Tay'.

Smash This! French Guy

2008-08-10T22:32:00.000-07:00

I doubt any of the two people who read my blog care much about swimming, but tonight the Americans won the greatest relay in history.

The French came into the 4 x 100 freestyle relay heavily favored to win. Their anchor is the current world-record holder and grade-A trash-talker Alain (surnamed something French). He promised his relay team would "smash the Americans". On paper, the French were heavy favorites. In Michael Phelps quest to beat Mark Spitz's olympic record for gold medals, this was predicted to be the toughest conquest.

Phelps led off with an American record time but the French passed the next two American swimmers and held a half-body length lead heading into the final leg. The problem was the US anchor, Jason Leizak had to try to catch the current world record holder Alain "trash-talking" (French last name). Impossible. Especially after Alain extended the lead to a full body length heading into the turn.

However, Leizak did the unthinkable. He caught Alain in the last 10 meters and touched him out at the wall. Leizak swam the fastest 100 meter relay split in history. The Americans destroyed their own world record and beat the French by .07 seconds. So long Frenchies! The Americans celebrated the unbelievable win. The French stood silent in dazed disbelief (then promptly surrendered).

It really was something to behold. Amazing!

Sunday Thought -- Holiness to the Lord

2008-08-10T22:23:00.000-07:00

After a wedding reception at the Lion House on Friday night, we took a stroll by the fountains and saw the temple just after sunset.

A Child's Prayer and Father's Wisdom

2008-08-07T20:56:00.000-07:00

Tonight Jess and I were reflecting on a classic child prayer from a few weeks back.

Since Tayler pierced her ears, Rylee has repeatedly told us that she's not going to get her ears pierced. She's also realized that she can easily hurt Tayler's feelings by telling her that she doesn't like her anymore. So she says that a lot. A few weeks ago Tayler was talking about how she was excited to get baptized when she turns eight. In typical defiance, and to frustrate her OCD older sister, Rylee informed Tayler that she was not getting her ears pierced and "not getting baptized".

That night as Jess and Tayler knelt in prayer, Tayler sincerely pleaded with the Lord, "please help Rylee to accept the gospel and be baptized". (The way Rylee has been acting towards her lately, I would have expected the prayer to be, "Please help Rylee to stop being such a snotty little brat").

Last night Tayler came into my room crying because Rylee was being mean to her and telling her that she didn't like her anymore. I asked Tayler if she really thought Rylee didn't like her. She didn't really seem to have an answer. I tried another wise Fatherly tactic, "Don't worry about it. She doesn't mean it. If you act like it doesn't bother you she'll stop doing it." (My originality as a father is quite astounding. My kids are soooo lucky I can come up with such brilliant, thought-provoking anectdotes?) Tayler went away, slightly disappointed, I'm sure, that I didn't have more to offer. As Tayler returned to the bathroom where she had previously been verbally insulted by her three-year-old sister, I heard Rylee calmly ask, "What Daddy say Tayler?" (She wasn't the slightest bit worried that she might be in trouble. Merely curious as to what I had to offer.)

Tayler's answer demonstrated the deep impact my words of wisdom often have on her life. "I don't know."

Another Tayler classic: One night before bed Tayler and I read some scripture stories and she asked me a question about a church-related topic. I explained the gospel principle to her, and shared with her my feelings about it. After I finished, she looked at me for a moment longer and then added, "Daddy, you say those things in the name of Jesus Christ amen". Apparently, Tayler recognizes a testimony when she hears one and apparently has been listening a bit in sacrament meeting as she colors pictures for Jess and I.

Back to Work

2008-08-02T16:30:00.000-07:00

Well, the Dunroe family is back from Utah's Dixie.
We spent a week baking in the sun and swimming in a very cool pool. We had absolutely no agenda and so we just relaxed. It was awesome. I love my family. We had such a great time together. The girls were sad to come home.
We also got to see our good friends the Millers. Sure miss not having them a block away.
I was supposed to work on my project for school but only worked on it for an hour and a half. Sweet! I barely feel guilty. Well, I guess I do now, but I didn't then.
I worked out every day for 2-3 hours and only lost two pounds. But I'm trying hard not to be discouraged.
Had to work again yesterday. I was a little rusty at it after a week off.
But developing health insurance products is a lot like riding a bike...

For the first time.
Without training wheels.
With no helmet, no knee or elbow pads.
Wearing shorts.
With a dad that's too slow to keep up once you take off.
On an asphalt parking lot with a plethora of sharp little rocks.
It's a good time.
The best part is, my scabs should be healed just in time for another ride on Monday morning.

...And if my collar bone still hurts like mad this time next Friday, my dad may take me to the Instacare for an x-ray. After all, why pay the $25 copay if it might get better on it's own?

Random insurance thought:
Shortly after my mission, I played tackle football with a bunch of guys on Thanksgiving day. I broke my arm in half. My friends took me to the nearest hospital. My dad met me in the ER with my University of Utah Student Insurance plan info in his hands. The nurse figured out it was broken when she asked me to move it (the fact that I told her I heard it crack wasn't enough of a clue, she had to move it and make the bone stick out for herself), so they were waiting for an orthopedic surgeon to come in to treat me. I was a little dizzy from the Demerol drip they gave me to dull the pain. My dad didn't say much when he got there. After a few minutes he looked up from the insurance papers and said, "If we leave right now, and drive up to University hospital, you might save a couple hundred dollars".

Who could blame him? University Hospital was only a half hour away (and the Demerol was making me dizzy).

My Little Buddy is One!

2008-07-23T05:50:00.001-07:00

Being raised as the only boy with four sisters took its toll. My parents finally had another boy when I was 15, but it seemed a little too late for me. I also grew up feeling a lot of pressure that there is not another son to carry on the Dunroe family name (at least not from this branch of the tree).

I was so excited when Jayson arrived. One year later, I can hardly believe it. He is the happiest little guy I have ever met. When he gets really excited, he flaps his arms and laughs really loud. This picture below captures him laughing, flapping, and walking towards me (quite the multi-tasker).

Happy Birthday Buddy! We are sure glad to have you in our family. Especially me. There has been quite an imbalance of estrogen and emotion in this little household. Thanks for balancing things out a bit. Can't wait till mom decides we can bring you home a little brother!

Who is Jim and why is he back?

2008-07-22T06:49:00.000-07:00

So Jess has been talking a lot about some guy named Jim. I overheard her two days ago on the phone telling a friend.
Not sure if I should be worried or not. She says she has just started going to Jim's again?
Again????
When did she used to go to Jim's?
I don't remember her going to Jim's since we've been married.
Apparently she's gone over to Jim's two or three times in the past week.
Supposedly Jim makes her feel really good.
This Jim claims he's gonna help her lose weight. What guy says that to a girl? (I tell her she looks great just the way she is.)
The weirdest part is that last night she actually admitted to me how excited she is to be hanging out at Jim's on a regular basis again. She says she now has more energy and is a lot happier.

Maybe I need my own Jim.
Or maybe I should start spending more time at Ms. Pool's.
Haven't hung out with her much since high school.

The Journey--Entry 1

2008-07-20T19:31:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm making progress again.
I've been on a journey to lose weight for a number of years and have been very successful at losing weight. It's just keeping it off that's a challenge.

Of course, I have lost the same 20 or 30 pounds at least 20 times since I returned home from my mission, but I always gain it back (often with a little extra).

This time I am planning on a different outcome. So far, so good. I'm down 18 pounds since I started. I'm not quite ready to announce my actual weight on the blog, I think I'll wait until I;m closer to reaching my first milestone. Suffice it to say--this journey's gonna be long. My first milestone is 50 pounds. If I can do that, I can do the rest. So far, I'm down 18. 32 more to go. I'm trying to take it slow and steady--eat better, decrease my portions, and exercise at least once a day (sometimes twice).

I'm gonna hit that first milestone. Hopefully by the end of October--October 27th to be exact. The question is, what am I gonna do to celebrate when I get there? Eat?

Sunday Thought--First Day of School

2008-07-20T19:15:00.000-07:00

Tonight we continued a tradition dating back to my early youth--Father's blessings on the night before school.

I remember the special Spirit that came each year as my father would lay his hands on each of our heads and bless us the night before school started. I was always anxious at the start of a new school year and the blessings were a great source of strength and peace for me. I am so thankful that he was always there for me.

Tonight I placed my hands on Tayler's head in preparation for first grade. I am so humbled to be her dad and so excited for all the learning and growth opportunities that will be hers this year. She has such a sweet spirit and I love her so much. It seems like only yesterday that she was heading out the door to preschool with a Dora backpack that was as big as she was. It was slightly less than a year ago that Tay and I headed out to her first day of Kindergarten. Parents came for the full two hours that first day and Jess was in the hospital with Jayson. Tay was so excited. I was close to tears. It's a lot tougher than I thought to watch your kids grow up.

Tonight Jess cried. Then Tayler cried. Rylee wasn't sure why all the tears were coming, but she climbed up on my lap and asked me why I wasn't crying. "Just saving it until later, Rylee, when everyone else is asleep". Just like my dad did I suppose.

Our Idiot Tooth Fairy

2008-07-19T05:20:00.000-07:00

Riley is at the "copy big sister" stage of development. If Tayler does it, so will Rylee. If Tayler wants one, so does Rylee.
When Tayler approached me about a note for the Tooth Fairy, Rylee wasn't far behind. I had only begun writing Tayler's note when Rylee thrust a tattered piece of colored paper in front of me so I would write her one too. Tayler was concerned about the ramifications of Rylee's note, after all, Rylee hasn't lost a tooth yet. Would this be too much of a waste of time for the Tooth Fairy?
On Rylee's note we wrote, "Dear Tooth Fairy, I haven't yet lost any teeth, but I can't wait until I do. Love Rylee".
Problem was, the Tooth Fairy forgot to check for the note under Rylee's pillow.
Idiot!
It was there, waiting to be read. When Tay put her note under her pillow, Rylee did the same.
Thankfully, Jess cleared it all up in the morning so both girls were apparently satisfied.

One Rylee side note:
Apparently, I must "march" off to work each day. When Rylee imitates me, she puts my work ID badge around her neck and states in her deepest voice, "I go to work. I go to work" (while she marches--high stepping--around the kitchen). She laughs as she marches around the table--especially when I try to catch her.
Strange thing is, from my perspective, it feels like I drag out of here each day. Ne'er do I remember anything close to "marching" off to work.

The Tooth Fairy

2008-07-17T04:48:00.001-07:00

Well Tayler lost her first tooth while we were in Boise a week and a half ago. The tooth had been dead (and gray) for weeks. I attempted on two occasions to pull it out, but Tayler is pain averse. When it finally fell out Tayler was ecstatic. She hasn't yet put it under her pillow because she wants to keep it.

We finally came up with a solution. We would write a note for the Tooth Fairy explaining how we wanted to keep the tooth, but still wanted money for it. So last night I wrote out the note. We only had a small piece of paper and if Tayler wrote the note in "almost first grader" font (which you can find at the very bottom of the font drop-down menu in most Microsoft products) we would need a whole page, and a bigger pillow. Tayler asked me to leave some room at the bottom for a picture. She drew a picture of the Tooth Fairy. The Fairy is carrying a bag of teeth (makes sense to me). She also added "I love you". Must feel good to be the Tooth Fairy.

Just as we were finishing the letter, Tayler asked me if I had ever written a similar note to the Tooth Fairy. I lied. "Oh yes, I wanted to keep my first tooth too". Tayler was reassured. Turns out, with five year olds, lying can sometimes be the best policy. As I reflected upon that lie, I remembered I have lied about the Tooth Fairy before.

As a 7 year old boy living in Germany, I stole (I still prefer to think of it as "borrowed") a $20 mark bill out of my mom's purse. I felt incredibly guilty for taking this unapproved loan and decided the best way to solve the problem was to buy my mom something with it. I might have been a lying little crook, but I was still incredibly generous, a "Robin Hood" complex I guess. So I went to this little German gift shop on the corner and purchased a porcelain horse for my mom. (Of course I kept the change. After all, I was a very generous son who deserved a little extra.) I was so excited to give it to her that it didn't even occur to me she might be suspicious as to the source of funding for the purchase.

Sure enough, she thanked me and then immediately asked where I got the money. Thank goodness I was quick on my feet. I grasped for the only source of money I could think of that couldn't be verified or traced and had absolutely no tie to my parents whatsoever, "the Tooth Fairy left it for me". Nice. Solid. Undisputable alibi. (Granted, this was about forty times the going rate for a tooth when I was seven, but hey, maybe the Tooth Fairy really liked me--how would my parents know the difference???)

So I guess I'm still a liar. About the Tooth Fairy anyway. At least I'm not a crook anymore (Just don't tell Jess I "borrowed" a dollar out of her purse last night. I have a tooth to pay for that I don't even get to keep.)

Sunday Thought--Happily Ever After

2008-07-13T19:42:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I had a great spiritual experience. I was invited by a couple I have home taught for more than three years to come to the Temple to watch them be sealed to their new little girl Peyton. They had tried to get pregnant unsuccessfully for years and then one night, about six months ago, their prayers were answered when they received a foster daughter. They officially adopted her a week or so ago.

The Spirit was really strong during the sealing. Peyton looked like a little angel in her white dress and white bow. I teared up. I couldn't help it. I was reminded of the importance of families and how those relationships can, and should, endure eternally.

On my mission I spoke with people of all faiths about family relationships and never talked to one who really believed family relationships were supposed to end at death. No matter what their church's official doctrine on the subject, they believed in their heart of hearts that marriages and family relationships were intended to last forever. That's how eternal truth works. It "rings true". How sad would it be if the people who provide us with the most joy and happiness on earth were not with us on the other side, or if we had a different relationship to them on the other side?

A vital step in an eternal family is the joining of the family unit by someone holding authority (granted only from God) to do so. Christ taught this to Peter, his chief apostle, "I will give unto thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven: and whatsoever thou shalt bind on earth shall be bound in heaven". I believe that six days later, on the Mount of Transfiguration, the translated Elijah delivered those "keys" to Peter. A marriage performed by Peter didn't need to end with the words, "Till death do you part". He now had the power to seal the marriage in heaven.

I believe this "sealing" power has once again restored to the earth.

It is my understanding that since the time of Passover, Jewish tradition has a place set at the Paschal feast for Elijah, and at a certain point in the feast, the door is opened to admit Elijah as a forerunner of the Messiah who was to deliver Israel from bondage.

How fitting it is than on April 3, 1836, while Jews around the world opened their doors for Elijah, he actually appeared. But he didn't appear at a passover feast, instead he appeared in the House of the Lord. It was on this day that Elijah the prophet appeared to Joseph Smith and Oliver Cowdery in the Lord's Temple at Kirtland Ohio and restored the keys of the sealing power of the priesthood. His intent was to allow husbands to be sealed to wives, and children to their parents; allowing for treasured family relationships to endure forever. I felt the effects of that power stronger than ever on October 27th, 2001. And I felt it again yesterday.

Be-Real

2008-07-12T10:46:00.000-07:00

After I got Jayson up and changed his diaper and his clothes, he was sitting on my lap laughing. Rylee climbed up (after we pushed her down three or four times) and joined us. She grabbed Jayson's earlobe and said she was "be-tending to pierce his ear". He laughed. I didn't.
Then I asked her if she wanted to pierce her ears. "For be-tend" she stated.
I prodded her a little for fun, "Should we go right now to the mall and pierce your ears?"
With a serious look on her face, which we are lucky if we see from this clown once a day, she replied "No Daddy. Only for be-tend, not for be-real".

My (Much) Better Half Is Back

2008-07-12T10:19:00.000-07:00

Yeah--Jess and the kids came home last night!!! They have been in Idaho at Jess' sister's (Jenny) house. I flew home early Monday morning and they stayed until last night. I have really missed Jess and am so glad to have her home.

The greeting I received from each of my kids re-emphasized the importance of each relationship in my life:

Taylor:
She shyly came down the stairs to the basement (where I had been watching SportCenter) with a card she had made with a picture of us playing soccer. The soccer ball is purple, both of us have blue hair, and a green sun is in the upper left corner. Above the picture she had written the following: "You rae my best Dad. I (heart) U". On the back is written "Dad I love you".
She immediately told me of a surprise she had for me. I told Jess I would unload the Yukon and I had a bubble bath ready for her so she could recover from the five hour drive with the three Crazy's.
Taylor went to help me, anxious to show me her surprise. Boy was I surprised. She had bought a crown-shaped jewelry box at the dollar store. She was so excited to show me. But I could tell by the look on her face that the surprise was about to get better. She pulled out three pairs of earings and held them up for me to see. With a twinkle in her eyes she exclaimed, "Mom bought me these earings at Ross. Aren't you just sooo excited?" I sure was.
Twenty steps later as she was entering the house through the garage door she turned and asked, "Don't you think I should go put them on?"
Absolutely. I should have thought of that myself.
Five steps later, the rule-abiding, always obedient Taylor turned again and asked, "Are you sure it's been six weeks?" The lady at the ear piercing had said six weeks, and Taylor intends to wait exactly six weeks.

Jayson:
He couldn't stop laughing. His four new top teeth are halfway in and very noticeable as he laughs. Jess had him show me how he could walk. He stumbles forward, stops, turns around, starts walking faster and faster until he topples over. Then he bear-crawls in a circle--around and around and around, laughing the entire time. Looks like someone's glad to be home.

Rylee:
The first one down the stairs to meet me in the basement. She jumps to me and wraps her arms and legs around me in a huge bear hug. "Hi Daddy! We been in Boise at Jenny's!"
Thanks Rylee. I wondered where you guys have been all week. Now I know.

Pilates Snob

2008-07-08T06:30:00.000-07:00

So I went to my second Pilates class last night.
It was twice as hard as the first one I went to two weeks ago. Almost nothing we did was the same as last time. I have a feeling I might be real sore today.

Last time I noticed there were several people in class that brought their own mats to class. I figured they were either disgusted by the thought of laying down where countless others have been sweating, or they are part of an elitist group of empowered new-age fitness gurus that I refer to simply as "Pilates snobs".

Well, guess who joined the club. That's right, last night I brought my own mat to class. I didn't buy the mat specifically for Pilates, I actually bought it so I could practice sit-ups at home when I was in Boot Camp several months ago. I must have been using it so much that Jess hid it under the bed--which was where I found it last night as I was putting something away (believe it or not--Jess has approved "under-the-bed" as an appropriate storage place for a few of my items).
My mat even has a little handle strap, with a loop at each end (to keep it rolled up in a nice little roll), for convenient transport to and from class.

Bringing my mat to class filled me with a new sense of confidence in my Pilates abilities. I was, however, able to set that confidence aside during class time--particularly when I found myself to be less coordinated now than I was two weeks ago. But I discovered as I rolled up my mat at the end of class, tucked it into the loops, put the strap over my shoulder and slipped on my flip-flops (another sign that you are a hard-core Pilates disciple--wearing flip-flops to the gym), the arrogance came rushing back.

Hi, my name is Sean and I'm a Pilates Snob. If you ever need to borrow a mat for Pilates or Yoga, I have one in the back of my car. That's right. Pilates. Anywhere, anytime. Bring it on.

Sunday Thought--The Three Foot Stone

2008-07-06T08:29:00.000-07:00

I came across an article written by an Ethan Bronner (of the New York Times News Service) today while browsing through The Idaho Statesman. The article talked about a three foot stone that was discovered over ten years ago near the Dead Sea in Jordan, but only recently studied by scholars. Instead of engravings, the tablet was written on with ink, in two columns similar to the Torah. It contains 87 lines of Hebrew, but the stone is broken in places and some of the ink has faded. Experts don’t seem to doubt its authenticity (although the results of chemical tests to determine authenticity are still to be published) and are dating the text back to the first Century B.C.

The article stated, “much of the text, a vision of the apocalypse transmitted by the angel Gabriel, draws on the Old Testament, especially the prophets Daniel, Zechariah and Haggai. The expression ‘Thus saith the Lord of Hosts, the God of Israel’ appears many times, as does the name Jerusalem”.

The text that is stirring biblical and archaeological circles (according to the article) is the part that “may speak of a messiah who will rise from the dead after three days.” The article points out that this would suggest “that the story of his [Christ’s] death and resurrection was not unique but part of a recognized Jewish tradition at the time.” Daniel Boyarin, a professor of Talmudic culture at Cal Berkeley, reportedly speculates, “some Christians will find it shocking—a challenge to the uniqueness of their theology”. My guess is that some Jews may challenge the authenticity or themselves be just as shocked as some of the Christians Dr. Boyarin referenced. Some will likely ascribe the messianic prophesy as the strange beliefs of some Dead Sea cult rather than accept that Jewish tradition may indeed have actually contained prophesies of a Messiah who would do exactly what most Christians purport Christ to have done.

Mormons will likely just yawn (in a ‘nothing new here’ sort of way). Or like most readers, skip the article entirely since it mentions “Dead Sea Scroll” in the subtitle.

My Bodyguard

2008-07-05T22:52:00.000-07:00

Last weekend we were invited to a birthday party for my nephew, Connor. We were told to prepare for cake and ice cream and a water party. The kids played in a pool as the adults sat on the patio solving the world’s problems. At some point during the evening, Jessica flashed a green light to Connor, who doused my back with his super-soaker squirt gun. I immediately decided to spread the love, so I grabbed the nearest assault weapon—a pump action water rifle—and sprayed my 20 year-old brother (who’s going on 13). Apparently the small stream of water was more than Shane could handle. He lost his temper and jumped up to chase me.

I hadn’t planned an escape route and I needed time to re-charge the weapon. I turned and attempted to run away from my assailant, but found my pathway blocked by some plastic patio chairs—some with occupants, some without—and a large plastic car the girls had parked in an ill-fated location. My only option was to turn around and face the music. But just as I was turning around, Shane shoved me in the back. Caught off guard, I tried to keep my balance, but ended up knocking over a plastic chair. I partially re-gained my balance, but began toppling towards the plastic car. As I fell, I contorted my body in a manner that allowed me to narrowly avoid a collision with the car (OK, so that may sound a little more graceful than it actually was—but hey, it’s my blog). I ended up sprawled out, face-down on the lawn.

When a 300-plus pound man is shoved off a patio, goes flying through the air, attempts a 180 in an effort to avoid serious injury to himself and other people’s property, and lands in a belly-flop on the back lawn—nobody says a word…“Crickets”. The family—including my attacker—was in shock. It’s not something you’re lucky enough to see everyday.

My first instinct was revenge. I envisioned the sweet pleasure of jumping up and chasing him down (as in countless family-friendly battles of the past) tackling him on the lawn, and beating him senseless (well, at least his upper arm). But suddenly it dawned on me. I’m a grown up. I’m 34 years old. I have three kids—two of which are old enough to model my behaviors. So I just lay there, allowing the fumes to cool, and realizing the whole thing was probably my fault anyway since I provoked him with the water gun. (Actually, in hindsight, I’ve since reasoned that the birthday boy may be to blame since his initial actions introduced the idea of spraying Shane into my head. Or maybe the blame lies squarely on Jessica’s shoulders for sanctioning Connor’s juvenile delinquency.)

While the family sat in stunned silence, there was one small three-year-old who wasn’t going to take Shane’s actions lying down.
My little Rylee-pot-pie came to my rescue. Like a three foot pile of fury, she went after her Uncle Shane.
According to witnesses, the vengeful contortion of her face reflected a determined resolve, ‘Don’t you hurt my daddy!’
So Rylee-pot-David took on Goliath. Undaunted. Unrelenting. She gave him everything she had...

She ran up and kicked him in the shins.
Repeatedly.
Six or seven times.
She gave him everything her bare little feet could muster.
Our common enemy stood there dumbfounded.
Fortunately (and rather surprisingly) he was thoughtful enough not to shove her to the ground next to me.

Thanks Rylee. You’re my hero.

Mental Note: Always good to know who’s got your back.

As for Tayler: “Sweetheart—It’s OK to come out of your hiding place...It’s been 6 days..."

"Don’t worry, Uncle Shane won’t do that to Daddy ever again (at least Daddy won’t be dumb enough to turn his back on him again. Also... sorry you had to learn at such a young age that daddy isn’t invincible. But just remember, I can still fix anything that breaks (or at least run and buy a new one without you knowing). And I’m still the best looking and most charismatic boy you know (and better be until you turn at least 21).”

"Gone in a Flash" Drive

2008-07-05T22:31:00.000-07:00

So, my flash drive died last night.
Just stopped working.
Had a lot of files on that thing that weren't backed up.
Including my final project for my Masters degree.
Good thinking on my part not backing it up regularly.
Looks like I'm starting from scratch again--on several things.
Kind of a downer.
The "Mister Rogers" side of me says that the bright side of this mishap is that I can try to do a better job on my project this time around.
The "Mister Rogers" side of me is also betting that I'm one "neighbor" whose learned a valuable lesson about backing up portable memory.

Side note: that "Mister Rogers" side of me can be a real pain in the rear at times like this.

I am the Luckiest Guy in the World!

2008-07-02T19:33:00.001-07:00

Family Picture time....

Rylee's "Special" Place

2008-07-01T21:50:00.000-07:00

Rylee has a special place she goes whenever she's in trouble or feels embarrassed. It's a simple escape. She covers both eyes with her hands. It must allow her to momentarily escape from an awkward situation. She has only been going there the past few weeks, but it's becoming a more and more frequent hiding place.

On Saturday morning I watched her poke Jayson in the eye. He started crying so she immediately put herself in "time out" on the love seat in the living room. You've got to hand it to her for being "self-disciplined". When I went into the living room to talk to her about it, she put both hands up over her eyes and didn't respond to my questions. "Um...I can still see you Rylee".
At some point during sacrament meeting, Jessica had to take Jayson out. Rylee followed thirty seconds later, but knew she shouldn't be. So she picked up one of Jayson's toys and used it to help cover both eyes. She sheepishly walked up the aisle and towards the front side door of the chapel with both hands--and Jayson's greenish, pink, noisy, floppy butterfly toy--covering her eyes. "Don't worry Rylee. None of the 300 people seated in back of you can see what you're doing".

At first I thought Rylee's special place was a strange behavior. I now choose to find it charming. I also sorta envy her. How many times in my life could I have benefited from being able to cover my eyes with my hands to remove embarrassment or accountability? I'm going to learn a lesson from Rylee. Next time one of the following uncomfortable or awkward situations presents itself, I'm going to cover my eyes, put on an innocent smile, and sit there quietly, acting like nothing is happening.

1) At work--"Sean, have you finished that project I mentioned in passing a few months ago (and haven't asked about since)? I need it right now."
2) (In front of a large group of people, with Rylee poking me in the belly) "Daddy, are you pregnant?"
3) "Dad, Jayson won't give me my Pink PollyPocket car!!!" (Jayson, please play with the dumptruck instead. Please?)

4) "Brother Dunroe, can we come by in twenty minutes to hometeach your family?" (Request made on the last day of the month)
5) "Sean. You better help your daughter." (Suggestion from a chuckling brother-in-law as Rylee has suddenly decided she needs to go to the bathroom and is slowly shuffling across the crowded waiting area of the Olive Garden with her shorts and underwear down around her ankles)
6) "Hey, look Honey! When you put this pink bow in his hair, he looks just like Tayler did as a baby."
7) "Raise your hands if you can make yourself available to help the Johnson's move. They're the family moving into the third floor apartment on 4th street."
8) "Dad, do you know who ate my cupcake I was saving on the kitchen counter?" (tears welling up in Tayler's big blue eyes)
9) "Great. Another blowout! Tayler, will you take Jayson into dad and have him change his diaper?"
10) Or three minutes later...."Daddy, why are you gagging?"
11) "Dad, Bethany's throwing up!!!" (warning provided as the neighbor girl runs towards me, across our living room carpet, hand over her mouth in a feable attempt to catch the mess, and I'm the only adult in the house)
12) "Um Dad. When mommy took Jayson out, Rylee pulled down her skirt (and underwear) during Sacrament meeting. Twice"
13) "Who tracked in the mud from the garden? ARGHHH...I just barely mopped the floor!"
14) "...Now raise your hands if you can take the 12 hour shift at the Ogden Cannery starting at 4 am on Tuesday"
15) "Do these pants make my butt look big? Seriously. Tell me the truth."
16) "Sweetheart, I cannot believe you posted that on your blog!!!"

Happily Ever After

2008-06-30T22:10:00.000-07:00

All of Rylee's "pretending" about going on her date night with Jess paid off. Jess and Rylee went bowling--and then (surprised gasp) shopping.

That left me home with Tay and Jayson. We headed downstairs to the theater to watch a bad movie. This one's rated G for deception and lies, drunkeness, violence, witchcraft, black magic, illegal drug use, mean language, "adult themes", romance, and a big wet kiss at the end (it's OK though, they are engaged). Perfect for Tayler.

I have two favorite parts:

When Sleeping Beauty meets the prince for the first time in the forest, Tayler and I dance around the room and sing "Once Apon a Dream"--like we are meeting for the first time.

When Sleeping Beauty touches the pointy part of the spinning wheel and collapses to the ground; so does Tayler. She's really good at it. She flops to the ground like a rag doll and Jayson scrambles over to climb on top of her.

Tayler even dresses up like princess "Aurora" (Sleeping Beauty) to get into character. (Coincidently, I usually dress up like a lazy dad, who comes home ready to veg for the night and watch a Disney movie he's being roped into seeing for the fiftieth time. It really helps me get into character. I believe thespians call this "method acting").

When Rylee got home, she raced upstairs to dress up in her Sleeping Beauty dress, and then hurried down for the grand finale.

In an effort to make sure everyone would be in character for the end of the show, I asked Jess to get in her Sleeping Beauty dress, but she said she was too tired...In short, everything wrapped up with a familiar ending and everyone went to bed content to live "happily ever after".

THE END

Sunday Thought--Miracles

2008-06-29T21:49:00.001-07:00

Just wanted to take a minute to affirm my belief in, and express my gratitude for, miracles.

I have witnessed two significant miracles during the past two months. The first was a little neighbor girl who went into heart failure on a family trip in San Diego. They had to hook her up to a heart/lung machine and were thinking the only option was a heart transplant. Following a priesthood blessing and a ward fast, she recovered miraculously. Her mother indicated she began improving markedly the morning after our ward met to start our 24 hour fast.

The second was my Brother-in-law who went into a diabetic coma one night a few weeks ago. My sister couldn't revive him and neither could the paramedics nor the doctors at the hospital--even after they were able to restore his blood sugar to normal levels. They declared him brain dead after running a series of tests and my sister made the decision to remove him from life support. His father gave him a blessing. Not long after the breathing tube was removed he began to recover. He was released from the hospital a few days later.

When I think of these miracles, I am reminded of one of the greatest miracles ever recorded. On His final journey to Jerusalem, the Savior was requested to come to Bethany by His friends Mary and Martha because their brother was sick and dying. Prior to this event, Jesus had performed many miracles, but the majority of healings seemed to have been performed in relative obscurity, away from the general public. This healing was not to be kept quiet, but was intended by the Savior to be seen by a multitude of people as final proof of His Divine calling. Jesus didn't hurry to Bethany, but purposefully took his time—in an effort to remove any doubts about whether Lazarus had truly died. By the time he arrived at Bethany, Lazarus had been in the tomb four days. This was long enough to begin the process of decomposition. The sisters were in mourning and questioned why Jesus hadn’t hurried to Bethany, knowing if he would have arrived sooner, he could have prevented their brother from dying.

With a multitude of Jews present as witnesses, Jesus requested the stone be removed from Lazarus' tomb. He then offered a short prayer to His Father in Heaven and then cried with a loud voice, "Lazarus, come forth".

His Master thus commanding, Lazarus obeyed. His Spirit re-entered his body, and "he that was dead came forth, bound hand and foot with graveclothes".

Many of the witnesses now believed. Some of the others reported the event to the chief priests and Pharisees, who said, "What do we? for this man doeth many miracles....Then from that day forth, they took counsel together for to put him to death."

This authority to act in the name of God was passed by Jesus to Peter. A separate New Testament account some time after Jesus’ resurrection tells of Peter and John passing a beggar, who had been lame since birth, outside the gate of the temple. His request for money from the two apostles was met with the following response from Peter, “Silver and gold have I none; but such as I have give I thee: In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth rise up and walk.” Peter helped him to his feet, his limbs received strength and he was able to walk.

I am grateful to know that this same power, by which Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead and Peter healed the lame beggar, was restored to the earth by Peter himself. The authority to perform miracles in His sacred name is on the earth today and these same types of miracles occur daily. One such miracle allowed me to grow up with a dad. For this I am grateful.

Rylee's Date Night

2008-06-29T10:52:00.001-07:00

A week's gone by and Rylee keeps asking about her date night with Jess. Well at first she asked about it, now she is trying to use more subtle tactics.
Sitting here eating lunch with her. Dino-nuggets (dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets).
Rylee is playing with two nuggets.
One dino-nugget says to the other (while walking along the edge of Rylee's plate, "Let's pretend we are going on a date night bowling".
Keep pretending Rylee.
(I think Jess is waiting for Rylee to be good for a couple of days to earn a night out.)

Maybe Rylee has decided it's just easier (or more fun) to pretend about date night than be "a good girl" for two days in a row.

Boys Night Out

2008-06-28T21:30:00.000-07:00

Jayson and I had our first ever Boys Night Out tonight. Hard to believe it's the first time he and I have ever been solo for a night on the town.
I could tell by the way he extended his nap time that he was gearing up for a wild ride. Jessica got him dressed and I did his hair.

At 5:45 I packed him into his carseat in the back of my car along with the Saturday night man-bag (Monday thru Friday--and Sunday from 1-4 pm--it doubles as a diaper bag) Jess loaded up for us.
At 6:00 we waited for Jess at a local fastfood joint (she called and said I forgot the map and parking instructions and the stop was on her way).

At 6:05 I felt Jayson reach for me from his car seat in the back. He was laughing and dangling out of his car seat. It took me a minute to realize he was actually OUT OF HIS CARSEAT. No wonder he was laughing. I had belted the car seat to the backseat of the car, but never secured my little buddy into his car seat. Nice move on my part. Rookie mistake. One more mistake like that and Jess will put the kibosh on Boys Nights Out.

At 6:10 we were back on the road, map in hand.
At 6:20 we were getting off the Kaysville exit for a quick U-turn back to Clearfield to get the stroller I forgot. That could have made for a long evening and sore arms.
At 6:30 we were leaving the Clearfield Stake Carnival with the stroller we retrieved from the back of Jess' Yukon.
Only 45 minutes behind schedule.

The Arts Festival provided some of the best people-watching we had ever experienced. Jayson caught the eye of several ladies and one friendly Artisan gentleman we met in the elevator.

By 7:30 we were seated on the lawn facing the Park Stage watching Atherton's opening song.
The music was superb. The keyboard player/backup vocalist was definitely on his game. (Nice Job Brian!)
The louder the music, the harder Jayson danced (well, bounced) and flailed his arms. For a moment I thought he was going to start a mosh pit.

But instead, a creepy couple started slow-dancing right in front of the stage. I covered Jayson's eyes as the tattooed gentleman in the bandana slid his partner's fanny pack and moved his hand in position for a "rear-end assault". Some of the crowed groaned, others egged him on. Jayson tried to remove my hand from over his eyes.

During the next fast song, an old man set down his beer and began to girate in front of the crowd--picking up the supplemental entertainment right where the creepy couple left off. Some bands travel with back up dancers in revealing attire. Atherton apparently travels with these three. Every good band needs their own niche. "Gene Gene the Dancing Machine" (as he informed the young ladies on the front row) taught us many interesting dance moves--a few of them seemed rather suggestive.
Jayson flailed his arms and took bites of his chocolate muffin.
I had an epiphany of what I want to do when I turn 65. I am pretty sure I could make an excellent dancing Roadie for Atherton. If I started practicing now, I might even have enough moves by age 65 to perform without needing the beer.

The band finished strong. Particularly the aforementioned keyboard player/backup vocalist. The folks from Insurance came out in droves to support their compadre. Nice job.

Jayson was wound up. After all, he had rocked out hard for most of the peformance. He started to entertain the couple next to us by "bear crawling" rapidly in a circle. He flirted with some ladies. They passed him around. I was proud to be his wingman. He played hard to get by frequently returning to his wingman and burying his head in my shoulder.

On the way home Jayson was hungry. I stopped and got him some fries from McDonalds--his favorite snack. He was pounding them down as we drove through Davis County. Must have worked up quite an appetite with all that arm flailing and grass picking during the concert.
"How's my boy?"
He smiled and chuckled.
"I had a good time with you tonight buddy".
"Ahhh".
"Did you have fun with Daddy?"
"Ahhh".
'Sounds like you had a good time too' I thought. "We should do it again. Motley Crue comes to town the end of July--you up for it?" As I revelled in the proud father-son bonding moment we were sharing, I was interrupted by an emphatic statement from my little buddy.
"AARUHHH!"
I glanced over and saw his outstretched hand waving frantically in my direction.
He just wanted another fry.

Sean-eee

2008-06-27T05:32:00.000-07:00

I have always loved nicknames.

I have created so many of them over the years and for a minute or so this morning I was thinking of the nicknames I have come up with.

Flossie, Tay, Rylee-pot-pie, Loolie, Lawbees, Lawbs, L-Train, Siggy, Sigmund, Deh-ya, Big T, T, Lanny, Hy-bee, Lantelle, Twiggy, and on and on and on. Those listed were just family. They all have one. So do many of my friends (e.g. Raggedy Danny).

It's funny how they can stick. The origins can often be interesting. My experience has been that they often morph over time into one that becomes permanent. Sometimes they are widely known, other times they remain just between two people (and I am not thinking of Honey, Love, or Pookee--that last one makes me want to puke-ee). Sometimes they are a straight copycat of a nickname from someone else that seems to also apply to the person you know. The nicknames I have developed usually morph from some single action, random thought, or close tie to something or someone--and then develops from there.

When I was little a friend of mine called me James. It came because my first name was spelled the same as Sean Connery, who had previous to that time, played the role of James Bond.

My Brother Sigmund, got that nickname from a character in the movie "What About Bob" who was small and skinny like my brother (at the time). This character was named Sigmund, after Sigmund Freud. I started calling my brother Sigmund from that point on and it just stuck.

My Sister, Lawbs, got her nickname over time when I went from calling Sharla, Shawbies, then Lawbies, then (because I'm efficient and wanted to save time by eliminating a syllable) became Lawbs. Later, when I thought of what a great rapper she would make, I changed it to L-Train. From Sharla, to L-Train. Go figure.

What baffles me is how so many people, who don't know each other and have never interacted, call me the same thing.

Seany (pronounced Shawn--eee).
The longer they hold out the "eee" the more annoying it becomes.

My dad was the first one.
Several random people (friends) throughout school and work at the Bountiful Rec Center also came up with the same nickname. In fact, at every place I have worked, in every department, on every team, it has emerged at some point. What I don't understand is why? I can understand Dan becoming Danny, Jess becoming Jessie, Bob becoming Bobby, but why, so often, does Sean become Sean-eee? I have only known one Shawnee in my entire life. A girl.

I heard it at work about two months ago when the VP that I report up through turned the time over to me for a presentation--during an Executive Team meeting. "Now let's hear from Sean-eeeeeee" (extra ee's added by me to emphasize the annoyance). Are you kidding me? In the Executive Team meeting? Why? Seriously. Why? Why pick that time and place to discover that nickname? He's never called me that before.

But alas. There's a version that's worse. Waaaaaaay worse. And 9 times out of 10 it emerges not long after the first "Sean-eee" makes an appearance. And I am probably stupid for posting it on my blog (fortunately nobody reads it). But it surfaced again yesterday. Like a brick to the head.
Someone called me "Sean-eee-Boy".
Great. Cats outta the bag.

Sincerely,

Sean-eee-Boy
XOXOXO

Sometimes if you just embrace the nickname, it goes away. Sometimes though, people forget your real name.

One other random thought about names. Since Jess and I have been married, I think she has called me by my real name about four times. She has called me about every other name in the book. ("the Book" added just to hear Jess say, "Seriously?" in her semi-serious tone). It actually feels weird whenever she does remember my real name. Like I am about to be grounded or something.

"Train up a child..."

2008-06-25T21:41:00.000-07:00

I used to wake the girls up every Saturday and Sunday morning by singing the Cougar fight song. Rylee would start to pump her little fists before she even opened her eyes. Now, two years later, they still love the Cougars, but they get annoyed if I wake them up singing anything.

Proverbs 6:22 "Train up a child in the way he (she) should go and when he (she) is old he (she) will not depart from it."

The Elephant in the Ballet

2008-06-25T02:12:00.000-07:00

I actually went to a Pilates class. Yep. Someone told me how great it was and I just had to try it out. I expected it to be simlar to my Yoga class three years ago. I still have vivid memories of that experience...

Dark room. Soothing music. Incredibly flexible classmates. Strong urge to bolt from the classroom. Sweating profusely three minutes into the warm up. Up dog. Down boy (or dog). Child's pose. Sitting, kneeling, stretching, grunting in a puddle of perspiration. By the end of the grueling hour, I looked like I just stepped out of the shower. Why was I the only one who felt (and looked) like we were exercising in a sauna? The worst part was the relaxation period at the end. It caused me great anxiety. The little instructor lady, the one who made every pose seem way easier than it was, began to go from participant to participant--kindly providing a cranial-facial massage to aid the relaxation.

Skip me....Skip me....SKIP ME. My head is a soaken wet mess. SKIP ME. Please. Trust me, you won't want to touch this scalp. My silent prayers went unanswered. She didn't skip me. It couldn't have been any more unpleasant for her than it was for me. I wanted to offer her the little towel I brought to class--but it had been drenched since the second child's pose.

My calfs and hamstrings were sore for five days.

So why on earth would I try Pilates? I'm still not sure.

When I arrived at the gym Monday night, I was five minutes late. Thanks to the invisible train that I never saw go by, me and dozens of other travelers were at least five minutes late to our destinations (sometimes its tough living on the wrong side of the tracks). However, it appeared there was no class. I must have made some mistake. The room was dark. 'Must have read the schedule wrong', I supposed. I was just about to turn around and hit a treadmill when I saw movement through the window. Apparently class was in session. In the dark.

Uh-oh. Yoga flashback.

Dark room? Check.

Soothing music? Check.

Incredibly flexible classmates? Check.

Strong urge to bolt from the classroom. Check.

I could already feel little beads of sweat beginning to form on my brow.

I quickly scanned the room to see what equipment I needed to gather. Exercise ball. Mat. Square base from a step aerobics step (still not sure what that was for). Mental note: Nobody is wearing shoes or socks.

After emerging from the equipment room, I quickly scanned the room for an empty spot.

Back right corner--taken by a guy.

Back left corner--occupied by a guy.

Front right corner--another guy.

Front left corner--yep. Taken by a guy.

Pilates guys are smart. Get as far out of the way as possible so nobody notices how poorly you do pilates.

Lucky me. An open spot right in the middle. Good thing I'm so small. Nobody will even notice me.

I joined the group during the middle of the ball exercises. Everyone was balancing so nicely with their head and shoulders on the ball and their feet out in front of them braced on the floor. Arms extended to assist in balancing (I didn't notice people's arms until I almost fell off my ball). "Raise your hips as high as you can, clench your glutes." I think we repeated that movement about 150 times. Good thing I came when I did. I bet they did already did 200 before I got there. "Now switch to single. Rest one leg on the other". Oops. Almost fell off the ball again. I think I like double better.

My rear end was on fire.

The next fifty minutes were more or less a blur. I remained focussed on my commitment to make it through without bolting from class. I did notice most others in the class (well, at least the people on either side of me) were so graceful, strong, and precise in their movements. It made me feel like an elephant in the middle of a ballet class. My legs were shaking. So were my abs. By the end, my arms were too.

Here were a few of the lowlights.

The V thing (I don't know the real name for this exercise). You lay on your back and lift your torso off the floor and your legs off the floor--at the same time! Yikes! Amazingly I did it. Sort of. I couldn't hold the "V" like the lady on my right. But hey, at least I got there. Sort of. "If you can't hold yourself in position, that's OK, we'll work up to it". Good ida. Let's work up to it. I like this instructor. I think someone called her Michelle.

Legs over head, butt in air (don't know the real name of this one either). It seemed so easy for most of the class. They just lifted their straight legs up and all the way over their heads so just their shoulders and head were touching the floor. I wasn't even close. Probably just for me Pilates Instructor Michelle created a "level one" version of this exercise. From that point on, I think I fell in love with the "level one" versions of everything.

Child's pose (oh, I do know that one) Piece of cake for a yoga veteran like myself.

Inner thigh leg lifts--The problem with this exercise is that the leg I was lifting wasn't as sore as the leg bent over the front that was supposed to be doing nothing. That leg (hip actually) hurt like mad. Pilates Instructor Michelle seemed to sense my agony. "If your hip feels sore on the stationary leg, move it to the back and it will take the strain off." Good call Pilates Instructor Michelle. It feels way better in back.

When it was all over, I actually felt invigorated rather than exhausted. No pool of perspiration (although my hair was wet) and only mild muscular aching. I think I actually might try pilates again. Especially if Pilates Instructor Michelle remains committed to allowing the large, uncoordinated participants to "work up to it".

The best part of Pilates class was what didn't happen at the end. No cranial-facial massage.

Pilates Instructor Michelle's most oft' used line of the night: "Great job. You all look so strong" (I pretended she was also talking to me).

Daddy-Daughter Date

2008-06-23T06:57:00.000-07:00

Tayler and I went to Lagoon tonight.

Alone. Just the two of us.

Jess said she was really excited to go all week.

I was too.

With just the two of us, we could ride all the big rides.

She's wanted to do that for a long time. No Kiddie Land for us.

Rylee was supposed to go out with Jessica--either bowling or slip-n-sliding--Rylee couldn't decide. But we couldn't get a sitter for Jayson. They'll have to go another night.

I decided to bring Tay home a flower (first date and all). So I also had to get one for Rylee. And I brought six home for Jess (so she wouldn't be jealous of my two other girls). Would have got one for Jayson, but he's a boy. And he would have tried to eat it.

Tay and I had a blast! Thanks Tay for a wonderful night on the town (Pioneer Village).

The "Big Girl" Stage

2008-06-21T22:24:00.000-07:00

Friday night I took Tayler on a Father-daughter date to Lagoon.

Right after we road the Tidal Wave, I had to go to the bathroom. But I decided to wait instead. Tayler and I are in the last stage of the father-daughter-post-potty-training development process--the "Big Girl" stage. We have been here now for two years. This stage first begins when you finally realize you are uncomfortable taking her with you into a public men's restroom. Not that you ever felt good about it. It should always feel uncomfortable to drag your sweet, innocent princess into a sticky-floored room where grown men miss a urinal from point blank range, or fill the stall toilet and don't bother to flush, or make a huge mess in, on, and around the pot with no obligation to clean it up....

Somewhere along the line you feel she truly doesn't belong there anymore. Recognize the symptoms early.
She may:
1) start sight-seeing,
2) begin asking tough questions, e.g. "Why do you have those kind of potties?"
3) occasionally say strange things, e.g. You take her into a crowded mens room, help her find the cleanest stall, wipe it down if necessary (be careful not to gag or dry-heave in front of her), cover the seat with a disposable protector or create a make-shift one out of TP squares, make sure there is enough TP, show her how to lock the door, and go stand over by the sink to wait. After all that, she feels the need to loudly remind you, "Daddy, don't look". Good thing you taught her the importance of privacy. Everyone in the urinal line now thinks you might be a little creepy.
4) Or you may notice men who seem a little uncomfortable (stage fright perhaps) the minute you and her walk in.
These are all signs you have entered the "Big Girl" stage.

In public places this stage can be challenging. Several possible scenarios exist and none of them are particularly comfortable.

Scenario 1: You have to go to the bathroom, but she doesn't.

If you are by yourself with your four or five year old daughter, you're in a tough spot.
If you're in a strange, crowded place, you have to hold it. You really can't go in and leave her outside waiting for you. Alone.
My advice during this stage is that you try to limit your exposure to these situations. Don't go alone with her to public places. If you do, make sure you both "go before you go". Don't drink an excess of fluids...And never go alone with her to a 3 1/2 hour football game.

Scenario 2: You both have to go to the bathroom.

First question you ask yourself, "Number 1 or Number 2?"

Number 2. No way. You are S-O-L. You can't risk her finishing before you. She may panic when you aren't where she left you. Plus, you don't want her outside alone in a strange public place.

Number 1. You should have time. After all, it's way faster for you.
No long lines.
Quick rinse (always using antibacterial soap of course).
Dry your hands using your pant legs.
You could be out in 30-45 seconds.

Solution: Send her into the women's room, race in, do your business, quick rinse (with soap of course), pant-dry your hands, and be outside waiting for her (with the "you are such a big girl" look on your face) when she saunters out.

Scenario 3: Only she has to go (best case scenario).
You still may feel anxious sending her into the women's room by herself.
Try to relax. After all, you are right outside. Plus, the rumors are that it's way different in there.
It probably even smells nice.
They don't "miss", so the floors might be clean.
They probably all flush.
And some nice elderly lady may even help her reach the sink.

Neighborhood Dogs

2008-06-20T16:22:00.001-07:00

Last night while attempting to set up our trampoline, someone nearly stepped in dog poop. In our backyard. Which is surrounded by a fence. And we don't have a dog.

In pondering this conundrum, I have found several possible solutions:

1) the mean German Shepard next door can jump a six foot fence.

2) her black lab life partner can dig a hole under the fence and repair the resulting divot with the skills of a professional greenskeeper

3) very large birds flying over our house have recently begun eating dog food

4) the golden retriever across the street has learned to hang glide

5) the black cat that often sits on our back fence has a mean sense of humor

6) pterodactyls are nocturnal flyers and aren't really extinct

7) neighborhood hooligans are performing the "doorbell ditch and leave a flaming paper bag of dog poop on the porch" trick without ringing the doorbell, lighting the paper bag, or stepping on the porch

8) the great dane two streets away has mastered the art of projectile bowel movements

9) the garbage man discovered we were putting excess concrete (the builders buried in our side yard) in the bottom of our garbage cans and decided paybacks were in order

10) the couple down the road who walk their dalmation without a scooper or plastic bag have mistaken our backyard as a public park

11) Tayler has stopped collecting lady bugs and has developed a new hobby of gathering fecal parasites

12) Rylee has been planting evidence in an effort to prove her theory about how her mother stained her feet (see yesterday's blog entry)

13) the rosehill dairy guy delivers more than just a gallon of 2% and a half gallon of chocolate.

14) the F-16 pilots drop a few bombs during their 2am flyovers.

15) one of our neighbors hates us

Well, whatever the cause there is a bright side. The dog poop was the only thing Jayson didn't pick up off the ground and put in his mouth.

Poopie?

2008-06-20T05:39:00.000-07:00

Jess stepped in something.

Not sure what it is.

Can't get it off her feet.

Rylee thinks it's "poopie".

She told us that several times.

I tucked her in last night.

She whispered in my ear a final time.

Mischevious smile on her face.

"Daddy, it's poopie".

Who knows, maybe she's right....

Or maybe she just likes to say "poopie". Who doesn't?

Slippin' n Slidin'

2008-06-20T05:28:00.000-07:00

Jess brought home a slip n slide. Even Jayson tried to join in the fun.

Jayson

2008-06-18T00:20:00.000-07:00

Still getting to know this little guy. Not even a nickname yet.
I do know he is the happiest little boy I have ever seen.
He is so content. Only cries when we take him out of the swing.
Pretty determined to get things he wants, when he wants them.
Loves to help mom with the dishes, cooking, and everything else.
Definitely a momma's boy.
Doesn't really crawl any more. He bear crawls. Looks like he's prepping for football two-a-days.
Loves to giggle and laugh with whoever will play with him. Ticklish everywhere.

My Rylee Pot Pie

2008-06-18T00:04:00.000-07:00

My Rylee Pot Pie--
Oh, where to begin. Not sure whether we should really call her "Naughty Pot Pie".
She can be the sweetest, cutest, best cuddler in the world.
Or she can be a terror. Yep, in the picture above she is sassing me.
She knows when she is being naughty--whenever she is caught in the act, she puts herself in time out. Saves an aweful lot of time."I go timeout" she says as she runs into her place on the living room sofa.
She has such a sweet heart. She also knows just how to tilt her head and smile sweetly. Makes daddy's heart melt. Saves her from a lot of time out too.

My Lil' Tay

2008-06-17T23:52:00.000-07:00

Just a few thoughts about my Lil' Tay.
She has always been my biggest helper. Since she could walk she has been out in the yard with me, digging, mowing, planting, and cleaning up after Rylee.
She is such a sweetheart. Always looking after the best interests of her siblings.
At random times she will tell me she loves me and give me a huge hug--sometimes two or three.
She loves when we are together as a family and hates when we are apart.
She loves Princesses, climbing, running, dancing, soccer, and teasing. She loves to play jokes on the rest of us. Her laugh and giggle brighten my day. I love you Tay!

Fathers Day

2008-06-17T23:36:00.000-07:00

Fathers Day was the best!
Started the day with a royal breakfast treatment. Six course meal to start the day.
Short church schedule.
Picnic afterwards with my family at Farmington Pond.
It was awesome.
Here are some of my favorite pictures from the picnic.

Here is Jayson headed for the camera. Again.

Two seconds left before I get mauled.

Rylee and Tayler kept running down the hill as fast as they could. This was one of the few times they made it to the bottom without one of them falling flat on their face or back. Not so good at putting on the brakes yet.

They are the best of friends. The other day Jessica asked Rylee if one of the neighbor girls was her best friend. She answered, "Tayler's my best friend". They are so lucky to have each other.

I am a very lucky Dad! Thanks Sweetheart, Tayler, Jayson, and Rylee for a great day!

Um....Daddy....Are you really sure this is a good idea?

2008-06-13T18:25:00.000-07:00

Changing Jayson's diaper Wednesday night while Jessica was at Enrichment, I realized we had a real problem. I thought the University of Utah sweatshirt was only put on for pictures. But here it was again.

I gathered the girls together for a mini-family "Cougar Club" council. While I was putting on a fresh diaper I asked them, "How can we let Jayson suffer wearing this sweatshirt? You know he must really hate it. We have got to get rid of it. Don't you agree?" Both girls adamantly agreed.

Tayler, will you take this and throw it in the outside garbage? (Thursday morning is garbage removal time for our neighborhood). She hesitated. "You do it dad". Rylee quickly volunteered, "I do it dad!" Tayler decided she better help her.

As they headed for the front door Tayler double checked, "Um.....Daddy....Are you really sure this is a good idea?" "Absolutely!" I reassured her, wondering myself what the outcome would be when Jess found out (I was pretty sure I was strong enough to take responsibility without throwing the girls under the bus).

Thirty seconds later I heard Rylee crying from out front. "Tayler, why is Rylee crying?" The answer came swiftly and confidently, "She wanted to throw it away all by herself but I did it instead". Well, what did I care, the damage was done. Then a strange thought....I better check and make sure. When I lifted up the lid-----no red sweatshirt. "Tayler, where is the sweatshirt?" No response. "Tayler, where is the sweatshirt?" No response. "In the garage," said Rylee, still teary-eyed. "Tayler, where is it?" "In the very back of the paint shelf". Sure enough, I found it wadded up in a small ball on the back of the paint shelf.

It frightened me how quickly she had come up with her little lie about why Rylee was crying. But then, I'm the one who put her in an awkward situation. 'Was I to blame?' 'Of course not', was my follow up thought 'she learned that from her mother'. (JESS--think VISA). Yeah---VISA.

"Tayler, Rylee, when mom comes home and asks where the sweatshirt is you say, "Ask Dad". Got it. Two head nods--one blond, one brunette. "Good. Ask Dad. Nothing more".

Sure enough, "Tayler, where is the Utah Sweatshirt?" "Ask Dad" came the reply. "Tayler, do you know where it is?" "Ask Dad," I heard again.
'Good, this girl is a fast learner' I smiled to myself.

Then, an unexpected (somewhat tearful) tattle "Mommy, Tayler wouldn't let me throw it in the garbage all by myself." Oh crap! The weak link......
Thanks Rylee.

No harm done. Somewhere in Clearfield there is a sanitation worker with a slightly used Utah sweatshirt on his little boy.

Either that, or it's being used as a rag to clean the dipstick after he checks his oil.

Utah Man

2008-05-30T19:53:00.001-07:00

I know.....I know....Jayson, it's horrible!

Don't worry buddy, we'll get that ugly sweatshirt off you as soon as mommy is done taking pictures. Great idea crazy Grandma had isn't it......

What a Stud!

2008-05-28T19:14:00.001-07:00

Another successful Daddy-Daughters weekend! Last weekend (not this past one), Jessica spent three nights in Boise and left me and the girls home to play--with very few rules and "sleep-overs" every night. We call it our "weekend of YES".

We went swimming, went to Lagoon, prepared our garden, and watched "The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe" twice. Finally, the girls have discovered some princesses (Narnian Queens) with a little fight in them (and thankfully, a lot less "priss").

When Jessica came home, the announcement was made--"Rylee was Queen Lucy, Tayler was Queen Susan, I was the High King Peter, and Jayson was King Edmund". Unfortunately, that left only one main female character (sorry Honey). Jessica was the White Witch. Everyone in the kingdom was excited Sunday night when the White Witch and King Edmund arrived back in town. However, much to Queen Susan and Queen Lucy's dismay, the White Witch swept into town and put a stop to the sleep-overs. "Everyone back to your own bedroom!" she ordered that evening with an evil cackle (added for story-telling emphasis). "Don't worry," the High King quietly reassured them, "if we have enough hope, Aslan might return and bring sleep-overs back to Narnia".

Now, to the pierced ears. Queen Susan wanted her ears pierced. Even when I told her how much it would hurt, she couldn't be dissuaded. What a brave Queen. She thought it would be fun to surprise her mom (I think I will stop referring to her as the White Witch, lest I become permanently banished from Cair Paravel) by getting her ears pierced while she was gone. Jess had once told me that we would pierce Tayler's ears when she wanted them done. The time had come. So I made an executive decree, "Off to the Mall"! Queen Susan wanted her birth stone studs. So let it be.
She was brave.
Not even a flinch.
Queen Lucy, on the other hand, fearing for the safety of her own lobes, informed me, as she hugged the comfort teddy bear, "Me no want my ears pierced Daddy". No worries.

Jessica was surprised (well, sort of) and thankfully not mad. Lucy couldn't keep the secret. She tried to tell Jess Saturday afternoon on the phone--but I yanked it away. The secret safe for the time being.

But the first words out of her mouth when Jess got home were, "Tayler pierced her ears". So much for surprises.

Another Mormon Missionary "Chooses the Right".

2008-05-28T18:38:00.000-07:00

Rise and Shout! Sure enough, Riley Nelson bleeds blue. Cougar Blue.

Yet another tough break for the hapless Aggies.

Maybe next decade...Probably not.

Family Night at Chelsea Park

2008-04-17T21:37:00.001-07:00

Tay. Happy to have chicken nuggets and fries. Again.

Jayson, waits for another piece of french fry.

Jessica. Hurries home and crops herself out of the picture to ensure she avoids the posting. (Jess, you're the only one who reads it anyway).

Rylee--willing to pose (or do anything) to get out of finishing her dinner.

The Routine is Back

It's amazing how fast kids can develop good habits. Much faster than their parents. I was downstairs watching The Office tonight when Rylee came down and said, "Daddy, read Book Mormon". How could I forget that it was time to curl up with my favorite little girls and read Book of Mormon stories. We read about Nephi and his fam crossing the ocean in the ship. Like always, the Lord delivered them to the promise land.

When we finished I ask if they want one more story. OK, but Rylee has one condition--"We still sing songs?" Fair trade.

The usual selections...

Rylee: "I Love to See the Temple".

Tayler: "Popcorn Popping on the Apricot Tree". Strategically selected. When daddy raises his hands to his eyes in order to "look out the window", Tay tickles him under the arms. Rylee joins the assault. The trick that works every time and never gets old (well, almost never). Of course daddy gets them back. Mommy runs in to quiet her three kids so we don't wake up the baby. Oops. Maybe we shouldn't do Book of Mormon stories right by the nursery from now on???

The read-sing-pray routine has started (again). An old habit has been retrieved from the pile of broken resolutions. Hopefully daddy won't ever be dumb enough (again) to break the routine.

Jess taught me how to play "kitchen dodgeball" after dinner tonight with her and the girls. It's really fun. Of course I'm the only one who doesn't throw like a girl. At least that's what I've been telling myself since grade school...

Scoooooorrrrre!

2008-04-12T11:42:00.000-07:00

It finally felt like Spring on a Saturday again. Last week and the week before were freeeezing!

I played soccer mom again today (sans a minivan). Tayler is really starting to love soccer. She scores at least once every game.

Last week Rylee got the hang of kicking the ball with me. She wanted to do it again today. Had to keep her from going out on the field a few times. She kept wanting to score a goal while the game was going on.

Jayson watched the whole thing from his stroller (well, sort of) or cuddled up with his grandma Shayla. Grandpa and Grandma came to the game to see Tay play. She scored a goal for them right away.

Jess had to work this morning (I guess someone needs to bring home the bacon around here) so I was Daddy Day Care. Poor kids. It's much more fun when mommy is around.