Foreshadowing

We've been having record heat around here. It's been triple digits all week. Crazy hot.

When G and I were at the gym on Monday night our instructor kept talking about how the excessive AC use had caused power outages in her neighborhood. Without any AC, fans, access to food, etc, she was going to have to find a different place to sleep. She also said how worried she was about her freezer and her beloved berries staying frozen.

Her mention of lost berries made my heart sink. I felt sick with worry for her. I could imagine few things as devastating as losing a freezer full of berries.

You see, I am a food packrat. I absolutely love having a well-stocked refrigerator and I take gathering food storage very seriously. I search for great deals on food and spend a ridiculous amount of time during my day planning meals, preparing meals, looking for coupons, shopping for food, etc. It's one of my most enjoyable hobbies. I love my food!

Not to mention my love of berries. I've been berry picking five times this summer -- and each time I come home with around 15 pounds of berries. (And to think we've still got a full month left to get more blueberries and I haven't even started in on the wild blackberries growing all around my neighborhood yet.) I picked so many berries last year that despite making tons of jam, smoothies all the time, muffins, pies and trifles constantly -- I still had several bags left.

All during my workout Monday night I kept feeling nervous about my instructor's freezer. Oh, those berries!

Tuesday was even hotter (it ended up being 108 here). I decided to get outside and do a little light work in the yard Tuesday morning. The kids had major cabin fever and although it was in the nineties in the morning, it was good to get a few things done and to burn a bit of their energy. I had a full day ahead of me that would require my ut-most organization and focus to get everything done. It was noon and I was sending my red-faced and sweaty boys back into the house to cool off. We were done outside and it was time for me to get busy with my tasks.

And that's when I noticed a pool of bloody juice all over the garage floor.

I burst into tears as soon as I realized what was going on. The freezer door had been left open. All my berries were ruined. My four packages of bacon spoiled. My three bags of Costco chicken thawed. My 15 steaks and three roasts from the cow at the county fair destroyed. My rotisserie chicken and bags of homemade chicken broth gone. Not to mention the bags of vegetables, popsicles, ten frozen pizzas (valued at almost $100) that I had purchased at an amazing price ($2 each), etc, etc, etc. It was devastating. The money lost. My beloved food totally ruined.

Business Trip (by G)

This past weekend I had to work. As part of our marketing for the law firm, we have been traveling around talking to potential clients. I represent almost all of our associations on the coast, so I was the obvious choice to present at the coast. Whenever possible, I take the family with me when I travel. I don't like being alone, so I much prefer having M and the kids with me. This trip worked out so we could all be together.

On Thursday, I worked in the office half of the day and then came home and we drove to Lincoln City. There we stopped at the outlet mall, shopped, and then went to the beach. Buddy had been begging for a kite, so I broke down and bought him one. We spent hours flying the kite and playing on the beach. Both Buddy and Sambo got soaking wet and full of sand, but they loved every minute of it. After we drove to our hotel in Newport, checked in, and then went to the pool for a couple of hours. Finally, we were all worn out and went back to the room and got the kids to bed. One thing about staying in hotels is that they have cable. I usually end up watching TLC. I ended up watching 3 episodes of LA Ink. It was really entertaining.





On Friday, I got up and me, our collections attorney, and one of our marketers met with a property manager. After, I came back to the hotel, got M and the kids, and we went down to the waterfront. We walked down on the docks and looked at the fishing boats. We walked up and down the street, stopped and got some taffy and some smoked salmon, and then saw some sea lions. After we went to the Mark O. Hatfield Science Museum to look at the fish. Afterward, we hit the Sizzler for an early dinner and went back to the hotel for another meeting. Once that was over, we drove to Florence, checked into our hotel and put the kids to bed.




On Saturday, I got up and had our final meeting. After, I went back to the room and we packed up and headed to the beach. We spent a few hours on the sand dunes and had lunch. We decided that we wanted to see the Heceta lighthouse, so we packed up and drove up the coast to that. We hiked to the top, did the tour, and then walked back to the beach to see if we could find some tide pools. After a while, it started to get late, so we loaded up and drove to Lincoln City and had dinner at a popular pizza place. We got home around 10:30pm. It was a great weekend and we all had a lot of fun.

This and That

Sambo has turned into a big boy. He communicates perfectly without any confusion and very few temper tantrums -- all without uttering a word. He doesn't speak, but we somehow know exactly what he wants. It's so interesting, especially since we had the extreme opposite experience with his brother (who talked/talks incessantly).

Here and there Sambo does throw fits, which I hate to admit, but I think are hilarious. He screams once in awhile, but more often than not, he just collapses to the floor/ground and goes totally limp. Sometimes crying accompanies the limp behavior, but sometimes he just lays there. If I ignore him for a few seconds, he gets up and goes on his merry way like nothing happened. He gets frustrated if he is treated like a baby, specifically if we break up his food or if he can't do something Buddy is doing. Last week he got mad at his coloring book at church. He couldn't turn to the right page or something, so he tried to crumple up the book, then he threw it down on the ground. That wasn't quite good enough, so he picked it up and threw it harder. It was so funny, and he had the people behind us laughing too. I think one of the funniest things in the whole world are when calm people get mad.

Buddy has been enjoying summer. He still is into birds and nature. We went to a community parade yesterday and he was pleased to see a citizen picking up a few items of trash from the ground and throwing them away. He said he liked that guy because he was "protecting the environment."

He's really interested in cars lately and has started to enjoy identifying different makes and models. I'm usually OK with his obsessions, but I draw the line at this one. I'm not a fan of cars and discussing them bores me to tears. He really likes Mustangs and in case you care, he saw 11 Mustangs on Friday. And every time he sees one he tries to call G on his cell phone because he knows I don't give a flying rip. His all-time favorite is the Shelby Cobra Mustang -- a convenient pairing of his love of animals and cars. But, lest you think he loves all cars, for some reason he HATES PT Cruisers.

He also is now quite interested in origami after he attended a Japanese workshop last week. As hard as I try, I cannot understand the directions, which is frustrating to both of us. I had a Sambo experience trying to fold a parrot. I couldn't get past step three, so I threw my folded piece of paper on the floor. Then picked it up and threw it further. That night Buddy prayed that he would become really good at origami. (I assume so he doesn't have to rely on me and my incompetence.)

A few days ago I was getting the the boys ready for bed and Buddy was going to the bathroom. He frantically called me into the bathroom, which was strange because normally he is really private while taking care of business. He told me to hurry because he had to show me something. When I arrived, he informed me that he had pooped a heart shape and it was "the coolest thing he had ever seen."

Last night I went to check on the boys on my way to bed. Sambo had taken the sheet halfway off (he does that all the time), but this time he had climbed under the sheet and the mattress pad and was sleeping right on the plastic mattress.

Buddy begs me every night when I put them to bed to let Sambo sleep with him. Of course, I will never do that (they would stay up all night fooling around — they already stay up way too late as it is). So I decided to lay Sambo down next to Buddy will I fixed the sheet. I knew Buddy would be thrilled when I showed him in the picture of them sleeping together. Neither one of them woke up, but Buddy rolled around for a second and realized Sambo was there too, so he snuggled in right close to him.

Me? What have I been up to? Nothing special. Although a boy peed his pants while giving a talk today in Primary. Unfortunately, that's been the most exciting thing to happen to me lately. It was so awesome.

Marge

This is part one of a several-part series. I have decided to pay tribute to my grandparents.

I have issues with death -- which I won't entirely get into right here. Thank goodness, I have very little experience with it. But I struggle with the idea of paying tribute to someone's life and influence after they've passed. Why don't we do more complimenting and reflecting and sharing stories before our loved one leaves us?

A few weeks ago my very wise sister posted this on her blog. I knew right away I needed to pay some tributes before it's too late.

Greg's grandma, Marge, has always treated me like I'm perfect.

Marge is 99% of the reason I even married G.

I met Marge in the fall of 1997. G and I were very casually dating while students at BYU. One evening G had to drive up to Ogden (an hour and a half away) to swap cars with his cousin. Unfortunately the details about that night are fuzzy because I had no idea at the time how dramatically the course of my life would change.

We arrived at Marge's house in Ogden and I immediately was introduced to cousin Matt (one of G's best friends in the whole world) and Grandma Marge and Grandpa Vern. They had prepared a wonderful meal for us, so of course as we sat down for dinner, a prayer on the food was offered. I was surprised and impressed when Vern prayed for each member of the family by name -- each child, spouse, grandchild, and great-grandchild. Over the years I've taken the time to do that a few times but I later learned that Vern did that often, if not every day.

Vern and Marge were warm and immediately took an interest in me. We talked all through dinner about my life and my interests.

G had started a punk rock band, so after dinner we gathered around the stereo so he could show his grandparents a cassette recording of one of his recent shows. You should have heard Marge's oohs and awes. I could not believe how sincere she was in her approval of his band.

Over the course of the evening I was impressed. I could tell she adored G and obviously he had huge respect for her. That night I never consciously thought, "Oh, G must be the one for me." But I do remember thinking very clearly that when I was ready for marriage, I would for sure choose someone that came from parents or grandparents like her. I knew right then and there that I would for sure choose a spouse with that level of loyalty, sincerity and kindness.

A few days later I received my mission call to Poland. I was to leave in three months and would be there for 18 months. I was ecstatic and G seemed genuinely excited for me. The night I received the call, we had a little party in my apartment. During the party, G asked to borrow my phone. Turns out, he called his mom and asked her if they would fly me to their house for Thanksgiving the following week. (We were still casually dating.)

Vern and Marge also flew to Nevada for Thanksgiving. We had a really fun weekend with them including lots of games of spoons (do you know that game?). They were hilarious and by the end of the weekend, I kept thinking that if G came from them, he was probably A-OK.

Over the years I've come to learn that Marge is an ordinary woman who never achieved worldly accolades because she spent her life taking care of her family. I would imagine she could have achieved great things, but instead she achieved kindness and sincerity.

Vern sadly died a few years ago and I know Marge has been terribly lonely ever since. She came to visit us a few years ago for Halloween. We took her to a pumpkin patch with us and she enjoyed the hayride and choosing a pumpkin almost as much as Buddy did (not quite two years old at the time). She's the type that enjoys whatever we enjoy.

G's parents came to visit and to see the new house back in April. Before they came, they were talking to Marge and she mentioned how much she'd enjoy coming to visit us too. They felt so bad for her, so next thing we knew she was on a plane from Utah to their house, so she could hitch a ride with them to visit us too.

And let me tell you, having her here with us was wonderful. The bed she slept in was "the most comfortable bed she's ever slept in." My cooking was "the best food she'd ever eaten." My house is "the most beautiful home she's ever seen." And my children "are the most well-behaved and the most darling children she's ever met." I was generally just perfect and the best wife in the whole world, according to Marge. I've never felt so good about myself.

The cool thing about Marge is everything she says is so sincere and yet I know she treats everyone like that. She treats everyone like they are perfect.

Interestingly enough, what she sees in others is reflected on her. She's the perfect one.

Four Little Firecrackers

We enjoyed a terrific 4th of July this year. It was just about perfect.

This is how it went down:

Swimming the day before
Personal training by Tahsha the day before
Red Robin dinner the night before (Fell in love with a new burger there. Thanks Jordan!)
Jordan and Tahsha spending the night
Golfing by the husbands in the morning
Chef-ing up yummy food by me in the morning
Parade-going in my homeland in the afternoon
Playing at the park after the parade
Eating shave ice
BBQ'ing in the evening with family and neighbors
Partying until dusk on the street
Listening to the band play
Throwing water balloons
Watching the neighbors light amazing fireworks
Watching the boys enjoy every minute
Feeling so thankful, once again

Since We've Been Gone

Sorry to keep you hanging about the Utah trip. While there -- and since I've been home -- I've been too busy doing fun things to blog. Here's a short little recap of Utah.

While G was slaving away at work all week, the boys and I lived the high life. We played with cousins, ate yummy food, shopped, and survived on very little sleep. For some reason when I get around my sister or Greg's sisters for that matter, I can't stop talking. (Most of you would argue I'm like that with everyone...) So trust me when I say we had some very late nights.

We had such a fun time. I am very lucky that my siblings all married terrific people and Greg's siblings did as well. It makes spending time with family quite entertaining. We laugh and we laugh some more. And I wake up in the morning very tired because we don't go to bed early enough.

And the little cousins. Oh, how happy my life would be to have them near us. It was unanimous. All the little baby cousins adored Buddy. He has quite the ability to amuse and befriend babies. And Sambo managed to annoy all the babies.

While we were gone, Sambo turned into a big boy. He no longer will tolerate being treated like a baby. That means the high chair is done, he will not be held, the doesn't hold hands, he doesn't like the stroller, he won't be fed, dressed, diapered, etc. He decided he wants to be like Buddy. He also learned how to walk down stairs, but has only tried here and there since we've been home. Our stairs are really steep and he's no dummy. He did really great while there, though.

Some other highlights of the trip:

Cafe Rio for sure. We went twice.

And Tucanos. Mmm... Brazilian BBQ! Dave had a coupon for free lime drinks there, which made dinner even better, if that's possible. (If anybody has a recipe out there for that limeade, please let me know.)

The children's museum in Ogden.

Shopping all day in Park City.

Feeding the cows on Myndi's farm.

The Tracy Aviary. Buddy was in heaven, obviously.

The aquarium with all the cousins.

The Bean Museum with Jenny.

Bathtime. I just think the differences in skin tone and physique are hilarious.

Hugs.

Utah or Bust

My brother says that sometimes we have bad days just so we have good blogging material. We are now in Utah but it was a miracle -- like Moses-parting-the-Red-Sea-type-miracle.

We planned to leave three hours early for our flight. On the way we planned to stop of at my brother's apartment to pick him up so he could drop us off at the airport. He only lives a few minutes from the airport.

Right away we knew traffic was bad. Like really bad. After an hour we had only gone a few miles. After two hours we started to get really stressed, but traffic was starting to pick up a little. We had 45 minutes until takeoff when we rolled into my brother's parking lot. He hopped in and we thought for sure we'd make it. However, we didn't expect to sit on Airport Road for 50 minutes. Let me run the calculations for you: Our flight was to depart at 6:25 and we arrived at the airport at 6:30.

In the meantime, we made three calls to the airline to check if our flight was running on time. We were told it was and even though we were stuck in the worst traffic jam known to man a mere .5 miles from the terminal, we were encouraged by the customer service folks to try to make it.

Also in the meantime, Buddy decided he had to go to the bathroom. Bad. We were stuck on the road, so not only did we have no time for a pit stop, but we had nowhere to stop anyway. So after a few panic attacks and some yelling, crying, and negotiating, we finally convinced him to open up the door and pee out of the car onto the street. He still hasn't gotten over that trauma.

As soon as we arrived at the airport at 6:30, G sprang from the car and ran right up to the front of the line at the airline counter. The woman rudely told him that even though he was missing his flight, he needed to get in line. I left my brother and the kids in the car at the curb to run inside to find out what G was working out. I was super annoyed to see him at the end of a moderate-long line.

I returned to the car and shortly after I arrived I noticed a teenage girl in a car behind me honking up a storm. She was gesturing for me to move forward, so I inched a little bit forward SUPER annoyed because let's get real here: I had no more patience left. And why in the world did she need me to inch forward? Then, to make matters worse, she moved from the curb and pulled right up along side of me AND STARTED TO UNROLL HER WINDOW. Poor girl had no idea what was coming next. I unrolled my window and she started to tell me I can't park there and so of course I followed up by asking her if she works there, who made her in charge of where I park, etc, etc, etc. She started to get flustered and said she just wanted me to pull forward so she could get out of the pedestrian lane, then peeled off before she had a chance to get more of my wrath.

Meanwhile Buddy was in the backseat upset to the point of tears that he was no longer taking an airplane to his vacation, as he put it.

Just when I thought hope was lost, G came tearing out of the airport with an airline employee trailing behind (interestingly enough, the same lady who told G to wait in line). A few seconds earlier when he got to the front of the line, the employee checked the flight and for some unknown reason, the flight had not yet departed. We dashed into the airport and employee quickly checked our bags and sent us on our way telling us she'd take care of the rest after we left. Poor woman broke her back to get us on that flight. She warned us three times that our bags wouldn't make the flight, but that was the least of our concerns. Have you ever heard of an employee helping get bags out of the car? Even though G was cursing her name, I thought she was awesome.

When we arrived at the security screening there was a line, of course, so G talked with the attendant at the express/business lane and told him we were missing our flight. He kindly let us through, but we still had the routine of emptying pockets, taking off shoes, folding the stroller, etc. When we got through security, G suggested I sprint to the gate to try to hold the plane while he gathered the kids and followed behind. I have to say it's been a long time since I've ran that fast. When I got to the gate, to my utter astonishment, people were still waiting in line to board the plane. So since we were traveling with children, we were able to walk right onto the plane. No one was able to explain why the plane was delayed. That's why I call this a miracle.

It took the entire plane ride for all of us to decompress. The kids were outstanding, though. Buddy looked out the window and commented on all the natural landmarks all along the way. I had no idea we were going to fly over the Gobi Desert (Idaho) or the Arctic (the salt flats) -- and either did he, apparently. It was a very exciting flight. Then every time we tried to tell Sambo we were on an airplane, he'd say "oooh" and point to the ceiling of the plane. Because every baby knows you point straight up when someone mentions an airplane. So even though we were famished because we had to eat an early lunch so we could all be ready for our flight, we all did OK.

We finally arrived, got our rental car and made our way out of the airport at 10:30 PM. Just in time to wheel into one of our favorite hamburger joints before it closed for the night.