Sing, Sing a Song

DISCLAIMER: I AM NOT A SINGER.

I know this because I play piano, so I know what notes should sound like. I just cannot make my voice do that.

Proof: I called my husband upon leaving the grocery store so he could turn on the oven for dinner. He was expecting my call. Trying to be cute, after his "Hello," I launched into Bon Jovi's "Honey. . . I'm coming home."

He didn't get it. In fact, he thought I'd been in an accident and was crying something about not being able to get home.

Obviously, I had some pitch problems, it wasn't the right song choice, and I didn't own it. But seriously, I have no idol delusions.

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NOTWITHSTANDING that fact, I will joyfully sing along with the radio, in church (primary kids can't really tell and at least I know the words), and to my children. Those little boys think I sing the best lullabies in the world. Just as it should be.

Here's our top five lullabies of choice:

1. Teach Me to Walk in the Light/I Am a Child of God. This combo is still the number one request. The Pavlovian response of Gabe and Jake to nod and roll their eyes as soon as either of these songs begins has waned.

(Gabe and Jake, summer 2005)

2. There Once Was an Indian Maid. My mom sang this to me. I don't know it's origin. I just know Jacob loves it.

(Jake, spring 2007)

3. The Hand Song. Most of you will recognize this song. Because it is based on this one:

The Bangels -- Eternal Flame

Staring into my babies eyes, I started singing this. I changed the words to what I could remember and what worked for me. This is my version, repeated 5 times.

"Close you eyes, give me your hand,
Darling, do you feel my heart beating?
Do you understand? Do you feel it too?
How much I love you?
How much I love you?"

(Nate, having a sweet dream, spring 2005)

4. Lullaby. This is Dan's song to the boys. He got it from these guys:

Creed -- Lullaby

(Gabe and Nate, spring 2007)

5. Jingle Bells, Batman Smells. Honestly, that was the top song for the month of December. At least they went to sleep with a smile.

(Sydney and Nate, fall 2007)

What are your favorite lullabies?

My Good Deed

So here's what I spent my day doing:

Emailing someone I've never met about glaucoma surgeries for her three month old. Multiple times.

This fall I joined a support group for pediatric glaucoma and cataracts. Most of the updates are regarding cataracts, which I know nothing about. On the whole, the group has not been terribly helpful to me, since I've already been through all the surgeries with my boys with no support group. Just me and my internet and my brother-in-law in med school. And my friend the neonatologist, who happened to be lifelong friends with the head of pediatrics at Emory and got me hooked up.

So, I'm hoping I helped this mom. At least I feel like all the experience I gained through my two sons was good for something today.

And I must say, I may not have been so willing to come out and offer my hard-earned advice if not for all the practice and good support I've had blogging and commenting with you all.

Seven Things Tag . . . Again

Lauren tagged me again with the seven things tag. I've already done one, so I wasn't going to do more. Then I thought, am I really so dull that I can't think of seven more interesting things about myself? I hope not. Here goes:


1. I was born on Groundhog's Day in Carson City, Nevada at 11:07 pm. I weighed in at 7 lbs 11 oz. According to my gambling grandpa, I was born with luck. At least for craps.


2. I love, love, love Halloween. Growing up in Nevada's capital, Halloween was huge here before it was huge everywhere else. See, Nevada Day is October 31st. We used to get that day off from school every year and go to the Nevada Day parade. In Carson, we'd trick-or-treat the night before the parade, and if you had friends in Reno you could trick-or-treat after the parade too. Now the legislature changed it so the holiday is Monday or Friday (to allow for three-day weekends). Took quite a bit of the fun out of it, if you ask me. Which you didn't, but now you know.

Favorite Halloween Costumes:

Little Pouse on the Hairie: Ages 2, 3, and 4. Yes, I was Laura, over and over and over again. I really wished that was me with Pa, mainly because I wanted to ride a horse to school. If I'm not mistaken, horse craziness is congenital and hereditary.

Little Bo Beep: Junior High. Reworked a costume my teeny tiny cousin had sewn for herself, which was probably too tight in the chest (if you are a C cup in 7th grade, everything normal is too tight), wore ringlets and pantaloons (how great are pantaloons?), and got one of the coolest boys in school to offer to be one of my sheep (I'm thinking now that it had more to do with my cleavage than him actually wanting to coordinate costumes).

My witty response? "But. . . I've lost all my sheep."

No wonder none of the "cool" boys were interested.

Alice in Wonderland: Law School. Borrowed my roommate's costume (thanks Leslie, where ever you are). Boarded the elevator with my property professor. He was wearing a trench coat and brown leather hat.

"Good morning, Indiana," said I, in full holiday spirit.

"Good morning to you Alice," said the author of multiple legal textbooks, "But I'm not dressed up today."

I'm hoping he took it as a compliment. Even grouchy law professors think Indiana Jones is cool. Don't they?

Sack of Chicken Feed: Nate was six months old and wearing the Old Navy chicken suit. Nuf said?


3. I took an 8 am religion class at BYU my freshman year. As shocking and interesting as that appears, it is only the lead-in to explain why I walked across campus one morning wearing a skirt and coordinating tights. With my backpack. My walking companion and I encountered few people that early, but two guys who passed us in the quad were overheard to mutter "That's classic."

I remember thinking, "How rude! I know my clothes match."

Somewhere on the far side of the library a kind young woman with a conscience tapped my arm. "Excuse me," she said, "You might want to pull your skirt down."

That's right folks. I walked across nearly the entire Brigham Young University campus with my bum showing! Curse you backpack!


4. I love to eat out. I haven't done it very much lately, since that requires: 1) disposable income, and 2) babysitters. Some of my favorite things to order (or at least fantasize about ordering):

Ruby River: jalepeno poppers and filet mignon with the jacketed sweet potato

PF Changs: crispy honey shrimp, double pan-fried noodles

Chili's: chicken caesar salad (sometimes I just need their mashed potatoes on the side)

California Pizza Kitchen: BBQ chicken salad

Training Table: cheese fries and ultimate dipping sauce, blue bacon burger, hot ham & cheese

Taco Bell: enchirito, nachos bellgrande, and carmel apple empanada

In-N-Out: number 2, no onion.

Einsteins Bagels: sun-dried tomato bagel with sun-dried tomato smear

Olive Garden: portobello mushroom raviolis (is that even on the menu anymore?)

IHOP: eggs benedict (this is the boys' very favorite restaurant: "It just makes pamcakes Mom!" because we never eat pancakes at home)

Old Spaghetti Factory: potpourri (I love the mizithra cheese!)

Bamboo Hut: seafood wontons and keiki 2 with noodles (Does anyone else miss the Bamboo Hut like me? Where did it go? Can you order food like that anywhere else?)

Does it say something about me that I fantasize about fast food? And yes, I am pregnant.


5. I am addicted to cake pans. The decorative ones from Williams-Sonoma. I swear, I walk inside that store and hear music, almost the Ariel "Ahh-ahh-ahh." I already have the pineapple upside down cake pan, the train pan, the cars and trucks pan, the daisy pan, the pumpkin pan, and three other bundt shapes. I want some flower cupcake pans--BAD. But unless this new baby is a girl (not likely given our stats), I may have to hold off. At least until I host a shower for someone expecting a girl. Whitney? Oh, and maybe Nate wants an octopus party for his third birthday? Or a bug party?


6. I can quote nearly the entire script of "Sixteen Candles." Sometimes I hear myself saying lines from it, only to realize no one around me has a clue. "Jake? Jake's my boy." Where's my brother Steve when I need him?


7. Umm, I have a tendency to be a tad bit too critical. Maybe it stems from my higher education in "The Critical Analysis" as an English major. At any rate, I recently watched "The Holiday" and instead of merely appreciating Jude Law, I was bugged by Cameron Diaz's facial expressions and strange hand gesturing. Now, I've seen her in other movies and enjoyed her, but she just irritated me in this one. Was it because she was paired with Kate Winslet (who is obviously excellent in everything)? Probably not, I mean, Jack Black was in that movie and even he acted better than Cameron. Maybe it's because I'm still holding a grudge against Cameron for her comment on Oprah. (You know the one. She said "If I wanted to be married and have a bunch of kids by now, I could have. It's not like that's hard." Excuse me?) And the plot . . . are you really trying to convince me that some grown woman who owns her own company is hung up on the fact that she can't cry? Cut an onion for crying out loud. Some of you probably enjoyed this movie for what it was--entertainment. As for me, this movie ran about an hour too long, wasn't funny, and made me happy I'd only spent a dollar renting it from Redbox.


Hope that wasn't terribly dull. I may be out of "interesting" facts.

P.S. Don't even ask for costume pictures. That would require 1) digging through a hope chest and possibly another as yet undiscovered location and 2) scanning (which must be done through Dan's work computer because the scanner is so old it's not compatible with the new computer, then transferred--all of which is way beyond my skill and patience level).

My Favorite Five-Year-Old

He was my biggest butterball. Born at 9 lbs 11 oz, Jacob never spit up and ate so much his dimples disappeared until he started walking. He was a wonderful baby because he stopped crying when I changed his diaper and only had colic in the evenings.

He's willing to share.

He has the best pout.

He does everything in exclamations!!!!

(Note calm cousins Nikki and Darren. This is the story of my life.)

He LOVES his blanket.

He's a monkey.

He is my best fruit and vegetable eater (thank you, thank you, Jake for not being as picky as you know who!).


His favorite fruits are strawberries. He took A LOT of pictures of this strawberry hot air balloon at the Reno Hot Air Balloon Races.

He was very disappointed when Daddy burned the peach cobbler.

He will go and go and go, until his eyes glaze over like this (11:40 pm):

Then, he can sleep almost anywhere.

He LOVES Superman.

He is our resident daredevil and always willing to go first, whether on slides, Big Thunder, or the doctor's office. Brave boy.

He's a serious gamer.

He does have some bad habits, but he's working hard at changing them.

He loves, loves, loves his Mommy.

He turned 5 last Sunday, and even with a temp of 104, he still partied hard.

We love you Jakie-Wakie-Woo. Hope this year brings many fun adventures.

My Valentine

Eleven years ago today, Dan asked me to marry him. I got so nervous when he got down on his knees that I started laughing uncontrollably and fell on the ground (I do that--it's weird, but not frequent). After he finally pinned me down and asked me, I agreed and it's been the best decision we ever made. So, here's the back story.

I first saw, not met, Dan when he was a senior in high school. Even though we didn't meet, he had an emotional effect on me. He was competing with my brother Dan in the 110 high hurdles finals at the state championship (they were some pretty fast white boys). I'd driven down to Vegas from Provo (got my first and only speeding ticket in Parowan, Utah) to watch my brother run. I remember sitting in the bleachers waiting for the start. It was a false start. I saw this tall kid walk away with his hands on top of his head. "Oh no," says my mom. "It was the other Dan." He'd false-started and was disqualified. I remember feeling really bad for this guy I didn't know because that really sucked. Get to the state finals and D.Q. Sucky, sucky, sucky. Then, I didn't think about him again for a few years.

I came home for Christmas during my first year of law school and my family held its annual New Year's party. My younger siblings had become friends with the C kids (I think Dave had a crush on Valerie something fierce) and our parents became friends. At the party, Dan's mom says to me: "I want to take your picture and send it to Dan on his mission. I think you should marry him." "Okay!" I say, not meaning anything by it at all (like I'm going to marry a missionary I've never met?).

That spring I had my ACL reconstructed and spent 6 weeks on crutches. I was finally able to walk again (albeit with an exaggerated limp and a hip-to-ankle length brace) in early July. When one of the girls mentioned there was a singles dance, I jumped (not literally) at the chance to get out of the house. This fact is in itself amazing, because I'd given up on this singles branch a long, long, long time ago. So, I hobbled up to C-Hill, stood with a group a girls I barely knew and became acquainted with another group of people. Upon hearing one of the guys introduce himself as "Dan" my ears perked up. Hmmm, is this the guy whose mother talked to me? He played it cool and finally said, "Aren't you one of the Ds?" "Aren't you one of the Cs?" I replied. I was surprised. He was tall and really, really handsome. Killer dimples. I kept waiting for him to ask me to dance and we danced in a group for most of the night (I use the word "dance" with poetic license, remember the knee brace?). I was laughing so much with him and his friend Gary. Finally at the end of the night, at the very last song, he finally asked me to dance. We laughed and joked about the possibility of him bringing home parasites from Brazil (he was a bit skinny) and laughed some more. I went home that night and told my mom "I met Dan C. tonight." My heart was considerably lighter.

Then I didn't hear from him. I went to a few horrid singles activities on the off chance he might be there, but when he was, we only laughed and talked there. Finally, one of the girls I'd just met that summer dogged me about going out (said she wasn't going, then went) and I got possessive. I'm not gonna let some little hussy try to make a move on him. So I called his house and invited him and his siblings to play hearts before I went back to school. He called back, they came, we had fun.

I went back to school early to help with the 1L orientation. A couple weeks after school, I was driving around the south end of campus and had to stop for Dan and Gary in the crosswalk. I pulled over, said "hi," and wrote my number on his hand. Wisely he called. We went bowling with my roommate Leslie and her friends. Number of times I'd gone bowling in Provo before this: 0.

Then his Portuguese class was moved to the law building right by my locker. He was waiting for his class three days a week when I was putting away my books to go to lunch. We talked. I borrowed his cool hat for something silly at school. He left me a note "You look so fine in 'dat hat." We hung out, having a great time, but I was beginning to fear I was becoming the fun older sister, rather than someone to date. My roommate Jessica saw him standing on our porch steps and told me "He's got really nice calves!" My friend Garry P. said not to worry if he hadn't kissed me yet because that's what guys do when they are serious, they're afraid of screwing it up. My roommate Erika played a vital role when he called when I was out on a courtesy date: "She's gone to the fair with friends," she told him and sparked just enough jealousy in him to get moving. He took me to see the play "Much Ado About Nothing" and earned points by actually enjoying Shakespeare. Still, I wasn't sure if he liked me like that.

Finally, he kissed me. Well, first he asked. Seriously. He said "What would you do if I kissed you right now?" Duh. "I'd kiss you back," I answered. "Then I'd say it's about time." Fireworks went off, birds sang, the world was a much happier place. He even confessed: "I had your picture on my mission, and I told everyone you were my girlfriend. I started to feel a little guilty because I'd never met you, but I told them anyway." (Did that mean his conscience was cleared now?) I couldn't sleep that night.

So that's how it all started. Now, eleven years plus, he still has nice calves, killer dimples (stamped all the boys with them), and always makes me laugh. There are still fireworks (even if our kids hate them), the birds sing if they aren't too tired, and the world is definitely a happier place for me because of him.

I love you Dan.

When We Need Extra Money, We Do This . . .

First, get yourself a great dog. Ours is a registered Labrador Retriever from Minnesota. (Granted, we would have gotten her even without tackling this adventure. We LOVE dogs.)

Goodgolly Miss Molly Lu Lu.

Her daddy was a Master Hunter, and her mama's daddy "Brock" was an English Labrador who was also a Master Hunter and one of the founding dogs of this kennel . But that's only half of it (because my husband doesn't hunt?). Molly is also sweetheart who loves kids and has a great disposition.

So, before anyone starts going off on "backyard breeders," let me assure you:

1. There was no breeding going on in our backyard. Molly spent a romantic week in Northern California with this stud.

2. Molly underwent a battery of tests before becoming pregnant, including an eye exam (CERF certified) and hip x-rays (OFA certified). How many mamas can boast that?

3. I consulted with two veterinarians (granted, one was a ward member) throughout this entire adventure. And read the book "Canine Reproduction" (I'm a serious reader, so basically I was an expert by the time I finished).


After Molly's getaway, she was the same great dog, except she ate quite a bit more. And Gabe was disappointed when we picked her up that he couldn't hold the puppies on his lap for the drive home. Patience son, patience.

So we waited. And Dan built this:


We kicked Nate out of his bedroom, so Molly could get used to her new room (it has to be quite warm and secluded). Then we waited. Molly ate and grew.


As the date drew near, Dan and I had a couple sleepless nights. Imagine us, who religiously believe is letting babies (of a certain age) cry it out, getting up to check on a dog. Multiple times.

When the puppies finally arrived, we had a very happy mama and some very happy kids.



Warning: If you embark on this adventure, prepare yourself for serious cuteness overload.

All nine puppies fit in this basket! Then they ate and grew.

And ate and grew.

And ate some more. I started thinking I shouldn't complain about breastfeeding, since Molly had to feed nine. But then, she only had to do it for six weeks. And really, I don't mind breastfeeding at all, I just wish my boobs were somewhat normal in size. Too much information, I'm sure. But, Molly probably felt the same way! They kept eating.

Soon we started feeding them.

And they started playing more.

Is this little boy heaven or what?

Despite all the cuteness, we were happy to find a good home for each puppy. Some went to California, some to Nevada, and one to Texas. We even found a good home for this one.

Because you know, you just can't sell all of them!

(I do this in Dan's arms too!)

Here are the totals:

Profits slightly higher than expenses (shots and advertising and dog food, dog food, dog food).

Time commitment acceptable with toddlers (but never try this with a newborn!). Do arrange a puppy sitter to let them out when they start hopping to piddle outside. Thanks Sara!

Total experience: Completely, utterly priceless!

We are looking forward to another round this spring/summer. SO. . . if you know anyone looking for a great dog, we're the ones to contact!

100 Days Smarter

Gabe had his 100th day of kindergarten this week. He came off the bus proudly wearing his hat. This kid has style.