FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL!

The problem with letting your son borrow the digital camera is that sometimes he messes with the settings and if you're not paying attention the only two pictures you take of his first day of school turn out crappy. The other problem is, you'll end up with a bunch of pictures of your butt.
As for Max's reaction to Kindergarten, he wasn't overly excited or scared...just accepting. I tried to get him to care when I left but he didn't. The only emotional person in the group was Sam who refused to leave the building and kept insisting--at the top of his lungs--that "I FIVE NOT FWEE!!!"

San Diego Here I Come

In the near future, the whole fam-dam will be boarding a plane headed for San Diego. More specifically, Carlsbad. And I can hardly think of anything else. But BEFORE that, we have the rest of the week to get through. So to get my mind back to the present, I'm going to honor Fabulous Photographer Jen's request for a little Gabe update.
Gabers is almost 4 months old and he's getting cuter by the minute. Since we haven't had his 4 mn. check-up yet, I don't know his current stats, but I do know he's officially too big for anything 0-3 months and is wearing 6-12 month stuff. He's not as chunk-a-licious as his buddy Jaren, but I think his thighs are satisfyingly squishy and he has a double chin when he looks down. (That's if you count his first chin as a chin cause it's not much of a chin. Doug keeps saying something about a missing mandible?)


Anyway, he's really freakishly adorable. He sleeps through the night, usually from 9-6 without interruption, he can role from his tummy to back, (he arches his back and just tips) he can almost fit his whole fist in his mouth, he does the back stroke in the tub, and he's picked up spanish. (He must be listening when the boys watch Dora.)
Most people think he looks exactly like a Mini-Max and he does. The cute brown hair he was born with has all fallen out and been replaced by blond fuzz. His first plane ride is coming up and he'll be getting his first taste of his future home...CARLSBAD. I'm sure he'll love it. Now to torture you with his cuteness, I'll leave you with this:

New Blog

I just discovered that my sister-in-law, Doug's older sister Kris, has a new blog: http://frisstillstanding.blogspot.com/
Aside from having a very unique perspective on things, Kris can also be darn funny. (She's my comedic muse.) If that doesn't peek your curiosity enough, I'll tell you that she's blind and busily raising two crazy boys. Ha! Now I've got ya!

Happy Happy Joy Joy!

I would like to gleefully announce the engagement of my mom, Fae, to her highschool sweetheart, John. They will be getting married in an undetermined temple in the near future! More details to follow!

Praise To The WOman

Please visit here for a few words on Em.

BAM!

I'll admit it. I'm highly suggestible and overly influenced by advertising. Last summer when we were staying in New York City, I saw a commercial for "Easy-Off BAM!".

Ya know the one where they dip a nasty old penny in the cleaner and it comes out sparkling and beautiful? I started having fantasies about buying a swimming pool full of the stuff and dipping the Statue of Liberty in it. Oh, to have that messy green lady all clean, coppery and shining! It would be an obsessive-compulsives dream come true! (Me being the obsessive compulsive.)In the suggestible department, I'm pretty much prone to believe anything anyone tells me. Especially if they're in a position of authority. Whenever we go out to eat, I narrow down my choices to two or three, then ask the waitress what she likes and pick that. No matter that "she" is really a "he" in drag and we probably don't have a lot in common. (Alright, so I've never actually been waited on by a tranny, but I'm trying to illustrate a point.)

So anyway, lately I've been thinking a lot about my skin, and I'll admit, it's mostly because of the barrage of skin care product advertisements out there and the fact that I found a white eyelash a few months ago. (The day before my 29th birthday, to be exact.) All of these signs lead me to believe that any minute, if I don't act fast, my face will resemble a California Raisin with the same texture as the bottom of my feet. (Before my once-every-five-years pedicure.)

Which is why last night I was SO excited. I've been very impressed lately with the Olay commercials. I mean really! Get surgically enhanced looking skin without surgery in just 8-58 weeks?!? Sign me up!!! (BTW, when did it stop being Oil of Olay? Who doesn't like the idea of slathering Oil on their face?)

So when we made the hour long trek to Costco last night, I knew just what to sneak into the cart: Any Olay brand skin care miracle.

When we got there Doug said, since we had a refund check to spend, we could both get one fun thing for ourselves, and then a few other necessities, being careful not to go over the $170 refund amount. PERFECT! I made a b-line straight for the drug store stuff.

And then I let out an audible gasp. $40 for a teeny tiny bottle of $*#& lotion? $8 an OUNCE? WHAT THE HECK!?!?! Here I'm used to spending $3 on Clean and Clear lotion for a bottle that lasts a few months, and I'm supposed to make the leap to $40??? When h-e-double-hockey-sticks freezes!

It was at this point Doug found me making retching noises and holding my stomach. "I c-c-c-can't do it! I can't spend that much on my face!"

Eventually, after contemplating a future full of leather face, I grabbed a two-pack of cheap stuff and threw it in the cart. No miracle creams for me. No amount of advertising can get me to forsake my deeply ingrained tight-wad tendencies.

My selfless sacrifice was hard, but I think it'll be worth the savings in the long run. I'm just going to have to stop watching commercials.

P.S. Want to know how we did staying in our spending limit? We spent just over $700 dollars and bought a new bathroom vanity for the upstairs bathroom. (We're doing a little remodelling before we sell our house next year.) Good thing I didn't get that lotion!

Itchy

Alright...sing with me now...
"HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY ANIVERSARY! HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY ANIVERSARY! HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY ANIVERSARY!"
(repeat ad nauseum.)


Today marks the 7 year anniversary of my marriage to Douglas in the
San Diego Temple. And although I could always use a good back scratch, I don't think I'm feelin' the 7-year itch. We're still pretty dang happy despite the fact that I'm full of all sorts of weirdness Doug only discovered after we were married. (There are some distinct advantages to short courtships and engagements.)

We'll be celebrating by taking our first trip over to Martha's Vineyard on Saturday. (with Gabey-Baby but not the other two.)

Doug is the BEST husband I've EVER HAD! Love you Sugar-Lips!!!

We're Home!

Turns out I'm a little bit of a wuss.

Yes, I know that I frequently proclaim to my husband that I'm "hard-core" but it's all talk. He and I both know I'm not the most athletic jock in the strap box. (I don't even know what that means.)

So it was with much trepidation I embarked upon one of our first Maine adventures.

After staying the first night in a hotel, we drove further North to Acadia National Park to a nice "Family Campground" (translate: has flushing toilets, a swimming pool, and grass.) After setting up camp, we drove into Bar Harbor (or Baa HaaBaa as the locals say) to rent....*drumroll*...
mountain bikes!

Now, it seems--in retrospect--that 74-89% of my college dates somehow involved out-doorsey stuff. Of course, some guys were more prone to dragging me up mountain sides than others, but hiking, biking, rock climbing, and even skiing dates seem to be popular favorites in Utah Valley.

In fact, I met my darling husband at The Rock Garden (an indoor climbing gym) in Provo while there with...another guy. (But that's a whole other story.)

This might lead you to believe I am, as previously proclaimed, hard core. Not so. (In fact, it may speak more to my acting abilities that I was able to disguise my out-of-shapeness and act like I was enjoying myself while hyperventilating my way up to "the Y"...) Although I do really really love rock climbing, and although I have experience doing lots of different athletic things, I'm not even remotely athletic or in shape as a rule. So I was scared to get on a mountain bike after probably 8 years of sluggishness.
(Sam's facial expression perfectly illustrates my feelings.)
But I supported the activity. Nay, even ENCOURAGED it. (I'm trying to shift my paradigm from "future mother of girls" to "current mother of boys".) Because THIS is what families with three boys DO. They go BIKING!
(This is how we started out but Doug and I had to trade 'cause that trailer was darn heavy!)
Despite my misgivings though, it ended up being really fun. Yes, it took us a long time to do a wimpy 3-mile loop, and yes I was totally worried I was going to eat it and dump Max into the gravel, but I SURVIVED. (and got sore in all sorts of crazy spots!)

( See! The above picture was taken post trip and I'm still standing upright with only minor support!)

I guess I'm a little hard-core after all!

Oh, the awesomeness

How cool does this sound;

"Yeah...I'm going camping this weekend.........in MAINE!"

Pretty cool, eh?

Wanna know what's even cooler?
I'm in Maine. And tomorrow I'm going camping. In Maine!

So, as this is the first time I've ever been this far NorEast, I'm going to share my first impressions:

MAINE IS EVEN BETTER THAN IT LOOKS IN "MURDER, SHE WROTE"!

Which was set in Maine and which I watched religiously every Sunday night with mom Faezer and sister Jenny for much of my childhood! [I've always loved a good mystery, and let's face it...Jessica Fletcher is awesome. I mean, a writer who solves crimes? What a spit fire. Pure GENIUS! (Mock this show and face my wrath.)]

So anyway, I'm pretty sure I've always wanted to visit Maine since then and now I'm here! And it just oozes New Englandishness. There are LOTS of super old towns filled with super old buildings and homes and they all have crazy unpronouncable names like "Junipero Serra". No wait...that was San Francisco. Like "Kennebunkport" and "Wiscasset".

ANYHOO--We've stopped for the night in Portland and tomorrow morning we finish our trek North to Acadia National Park where we will camp.

[For today's complete itineray, see Doug's blog.]

[By-the-way, Doug would like to request that you DON'T rob us while we're gone. But if you do, take some of the clutter on my desk with you. (And the dirty clothes that I'm pretty sure are under the boy's bunk-beds. And you'll find the most money in Max's Ritz Cracker jar on his dresser. It should net you about $8.63)]

I'll have more to report later, but for now I need to get some sleep. We're going camping with a 3-month-old. It may be the last chance I have for awhile!

G'night!

Oh Boys...

I decided the other day I'm going to publish a photo book called "Living With Boys". So I can showcase our growing collection of photo's like this: So it was with much happiness I read Hilari's post today. Maybe I should ask her to collaborate?

For The Birds!

Living where we do is kind of like living in an Aviary or Wild Animal Sanctuary. Our home is surrounded by trees and the trees are filled with all sorts of birds. I've seen birds in our yard that I've never seen anywhere else. Specifically, red, orange and yellow birds.

Right down the street, probably less than a block away we have an inlet from the nearest bay. It's sort of marshy and is full of ducks, swans, Blue Herons and pretty white Egrets. Aside from all the birds, we have about a million squirrels, $%#! ground hogs, racoons, neighborhood cats and dogs, and--down by the lagoon-- a coyote or two.


For the most part, this plethora of wildlife doesn't bother me. In fact, I usually love seeing cool new birds. And the squirrels keep me quite entertained when the leaves are off the trees. (They're quite the little dare-devils leaping around up there.)

There are only a few times I really don't appreciate the animals. When the $#@! ground hogs (which are being summarily caught and removed from our yard by a "pest guy") eat our garden, when racoon's get into the garbage, and when I come outside and find this:


I don't think the above photo quite does justice to the fact that overnight the entire back deck was assaulted by a bird poop firing squad. And this isn't the first time this has happened--probably the third or fourth. It's as if a flock of birds just up and decided they'd all take a simultaneous poop-stop while hovering above our house. What gives? (I had some close-ups of the grossness, but evidently D decided we had two many bird-poop-pics and deleted them.)

I guess this is just one of the hazards of living in paradise. Either that or some birdy doesn't like us.

Oh, Gary...

First you do the "Cash Call" commercials and now this. What kind of wrath have you unleashed upon Provo, you "Church Ball" producers!!!



For SHAME!

(Thanks for the link Dave! I'm laughing my head off if you can't tell.)




Gary Coleman Cited for Disorderly Conduct
TUESDAY JULY 31, 2007 05:30 PM EDT
By Tim Nudd
Gary Coleman Photo by: Enos Solomon / FilmMagic

Gary Coleman was cited for disorderly conduct in Provo, Utah, following a public argument with a female companion last Friday. Passersby called the police when they noticed the diminutive actor getting upset and hitting the steering wheel of his vehicle while involved in a heated discussion with a woman, the Associated Press reports. He calmed down when the authorities arrived and was issued the misdemeanor citation. The woman was not identified. Coleman, 39, moved to the rural Utah town of Santaquin in 2005 when he started filming the movie Church Ball. He is best known for his role as Arnold Jackson on the '80s TV series Diff'rent Strokes. He also ran for governor of California in the 2003 recall election.

Sammers

(On the way to the ward beach party. Stopped in the middle of a freeway exit.)

Sam peed on the shower curtain today. Actually, to be more accurate, he peed on the inside of the toilet, the outside of the toilet, and then onto the cloth curtain before aiming down into the toilet again. (And the last move was only because I was standing next to him and started yelling.) This is the same curtain I just barely put back up after its last pee encounter.

Why did he do this you may ask? (And I did)

"Because I wha my pee-pee's go UP!" (Because I want my pee-pee's to go up) he replies with a delighted little lift in his voice and spring in his step!

Later same day:

"Mommy, YOOK! I did my YETTOS!" as he points to the crayoned "letters" (read: scribbles) on my living room wall.

Oh Sammy-Boy! What would we do without you????? (Besides less laundry...?)