Kid Say Wha?!

Here is Ollie telling action figurine 'Robin' a bedtime tale about the Baby Jesus Christmas Story... Ollie's superhero version. Needless to say, I think he has his characters turned around a bit, and also has some historical inaccuracies. He does know the real version, I swear.

This video is somewhat long, so feel free to skip ahead to the last minute or so, around 2:25.

Disclaimer: DO NOT watch if you are easily offended.

Here is a transcript of that last minute for those who can't decipher '3-year-old boy':

Ollie: Now he gotta tell... ALL the rest of the story. Once upon a time there was every kind of flower, that the bad good king did. He just... print a flower out, then Baby Jesus coloured one. He decided to colour everything he wants. But one day... who come-d? 

Evan: I don't know. Who was it? 

Ollie: The Bad Shepherds. 

Evan: The Bad Shepherds? 

Ollie: Yeah. And they have horses AGAIN! 

Evan: They have horses again? 

Ollie: Yeah! And they... SHOOT Baby Jesus! And then... they runned away back to... 

Evan: He's been resurrected five times!

Aaaaaaaand... We're Back

Where to begin?

We made the big move from good ol' Utah to Arizona. (Have I mentioned I hate moving? Because, it pretty much blows.) Realizing how little we would have per month on a student budget when we got to AZ, we elected to buy a house. Huh? Yup. It is officially cheaper to buy than to rent in Phoenix (by a lot, thank you crazy housing market), so we took advantage of the economic downturn, and an old man with Alzheimer's, and signed our life away.

(As a major side note, there is nothing like stress to sap you of any desire to pick up a camera and be creative, let alone to document stuff. Sorry, Mum.)

We scored a moderate fixer... enough work that it was kind of a pain (also read "ugly"), but enough work that it feels like ours and we can continue to make it our own, and we got a good deal. There enough room for us, and a backyard. We also got into a nice quiet area with good neighbours, and a very good school district, and we are also easy biking distance from campus for Evan. Plus, we have loads of grocery stores nearby (including Whole Foods!), malls, Lowes, Home Depot, Ikea, Costco, pools, parks, Jimmy Johns, Chipotle, and practically everything we would ever need in about a 4 mile radius, which we are coming to find in Phoenix means really, really close. (The stars aligned.)

I will post later about the remodel, but for now here is a picture of the outside that we took when we first looked at the place in July. Word of warning: we did not pick the house colours. And we obviously have not done a thing to it since. One day we will repaint, but not anytime soon, that is for sure. We have to finish painting inside first, at least.

Wow, that tree looked so much greener than it is now. Hmm... we should probably do something about that before it falls on our roof.
Oh, and obviously, we will put in plants to brighten things up one day too.

I don't know if you noticed, but, yes, there is a barrel cactus planted in the middle of a stone circle, with boulders placed at the cardinal points in the front yard. I think, judging from the rest of the house, that was the old dude's attempt at decorating. But, Evan and I had a good laugh about pagan rituals, Wiccans, and sacrificial offerings when we first saw it.

Free to a good home: barrel cactus in good condition and four matching boulders.

So anyway, between closing and remodelling and packing we spent an awful lot of the last 2-3 months in our car driving between Utah, California, and Arizona. (CA was mainly so we could drop off kids with grandparents, while we did house things.)

Speaking of driving, I am sure I have griped to some of you, but we made a trip from CA to AZ and back in July in a truck with no airconditioning. You can't claim to be hardcore until you've sweated out that trip in 100+-heat-by-10-AM. We survived by getting bags of ice in Yuma, and holding on to them for dear life. On the way back we figured out that double bagging the ice in two trash bags prevented most, if not all of the ice-cold drenchings we were subjected to if we made a wrong move. I would have taken pictures to document, but you know, it was too hot to think.

We also celebrated out 5th anniversary. We went out with our kids to Pizzaria 712... we didn't want to leave them behind. My most favourite restaurant in the whole wide world. I have never had anything from there that was not astonishingly good. And, as a side note, I love that we can take our kids to that kind of restaurant and they will gladly eat whatever we are eating.

That is Ollie tucking his napkin into his shirt, which ended up being all the way in his shirt and then out the bottom.

See? They ate *our* food. (Brag, brag, brag.)

Then we took the kids to the moonlight ski-lift ride at Sundance. We have been wanting to do that ever since we first got to Utah, and just never found the time. But I am glad we made time for it. It was a great way to go out. And to prove that we were there we had this taken afterwards.

And then, of course, before we knew it, the summer was almost over, and our moving truck was picked up, and we had barely packed (even though I spent weeks carefully packing beforehand). Not to mention, it was time for us to go before we got to put even a scratch in our Utah Bucket List. (That is for another time, but most of it is some form of hiking or some form of eating. Probably best in that order, too.) Did I mention I hate packing? Did I also mention I hate packing a truck when we are supposed to be on a tight schedule, and we have to wait for 6 hours for the piano movers to get the bloody piano in the truck before we can do anything? We finally finished out about 12 hours after we had planned (although we had kind of planned that we would not run on schedule, so I guess it was planned), and I was so ready to get on the road and get the heck out that I didn't even take a picture of the truck. Sad day (*fake tear*). It was a thing of beauty, too: Evan masterfully packed it to the brim like Tetris. And we didn't even have any casualties on the other end.

I also hit a new milestone, which was travelling in the car with the kids by myself for a very long road trip. In fact, doing a whole road trip by myself was a first, too. Here are pictures of the kids, with Alena looking deceptively happy, on our way down that mesa right after Lake Powell, after the world's-worst-two-hour-nap... I'm actually not kidding.

Here Oliver is actually telling you what will happen to your body if you fall over the side of the railing... "...you will go down, down, and squish like this..."

Oh, and one of Evan, who got to drive the rental truck with the dog, whilst caravaning behind me. Lucky, lucky.

I conveniently did not get any pictures of myself.

And then after we finally (finally!) arrived (13 hours late) at our new home, and unpacked the truck in record time (an hour) so that the (2 hours early) piano movers could get to my dear musical instrument strapped at the absolute back of the vehicle, we spent a couple of days doing this:

And "this", of course, is sleeping, but more specifically, sleeping on mattresses on the floor with only the  most essential of mismatched bedsheets, while our bedframes lay propped against walls because it was too much darn work to put them together.

That's it for now. And if you made it this far you win the prize of me being the most impressed by your perseverance.

P.S. Evan started his Marriage Break-up Association a few weeks ago, and is doing well so far. And thanks to our ridiculous school + two jobs + me in school too schedule over the last year, I am coping with him being away from home for at least 12 hours a day much better than most other partners. Yay.

Celebration

Evan graduated. (Yay, finally done with BYU!)

He was accepted into 4 MBA schools. Three gave him scholarships. Two gave him Dean's scholarships.

We are headed to Phoenix this summer so Evan can attend Arizona State University.

I finished my last classes on BYU campus.

I finished out the semester-from-hell with a 4.0.

And a scholarship for my senior thesis research, which received a Paper of the Year nomination.

*Lalala* *Celebrating* *Dancing*

It Must Be A Genetic Thing Part II

(For Part I see here)

P.S. For those of you who don't know, Evan played lacrosse. 

Unbelievable...

For the last year or so, I have had some bad luck with bikes.

There was the really, really nice one that my Dad bought me, which was stolen last Memorial Day weekend.

Then, there was the jalopy that I pieced together from parts and pieces of various dead bicycles that were left behind the apartment complex where we live. I figured it was such a piece of junk that nobody would ever think to steal it.

I mean, I was riding it down the street once, sitting up, with no hands... and the BIKE SEAT fell off, landing me right on the back wheel and then flat on my face. The bolt that held the seat on had sheared off completely. Surely enough, that one walked off too.

So, we poked around Craigslist and found an awesome, inexpensive old 10-speed road bike. We picked it up and I LOVED it. I love the adrenalin rush that you get from something that is made to go so quickly in such an effortless way. In short fashion, that one got stolen too.

Which puts us in about September of last year. 4 months, 3 bikes later. I finally learned my lesson. It wasn't enough to lock things outside. It wasn't enough to just leave a bike outside *just for a second* (no, seriously) while I ran upstairs.

Finally we wised up, and I now keep my bike inside. Locked. Inside. I have plans to put a bolt into a stud in the wall and physically chain my bike to the wall. Until that happens, I keep my bike in closer proximity.

All of this brings me back to my main - unbelievable - point. Last week, we were working in the garden planting tomatoes. Well, Hannah and I were planting things. The kids were doing a good job digging things up. Suddenly, I see a guy walk by, wheeling a KHS soft-tail mountain bike.

"Huh," I said to myself, "That looks an awful lot like my old (nice) bike. How many KHS bikes are there going to be around here... No bike shops carry them." I think my mental filter was off because of the physical labor of the gardening, and I spurted out "Hey man, nice bike... I used to have one just like it, same color & everything... but some jerk stole it."

After a little bit of chit-chat, I asked if I could see the bike a bit closer. Curiously, it just happened to have the same click-in clipless pedals that my old one had. It even had a "Performance" sticker and "Performance" water-bottle cage. Performance, for those of you who probably don't know, is a bike shop that doesn't exist in Utah. It does have locations in California, though.

This bike had a dented back wheel, just like the one I dented trying to jump down a huge flight of stairs at BYU-Idaho. One of the shifters was a bit screwy, just like the bike that had been stolen from me.

IT WAS MY BIKE!

After a short period of freaking out, and a period of time resisting the urge to rip the guy's head off, (He was just as surprised as I was... he bought it from a friend who picked it up from a local pawn shop sometime last year,) I offered to buy it from him.

And he agreed!

I got my bike back! Heck. Yeah.!

Gratitude

It must be a part of human nature to take things for granted. I mean, it's programmed into our brains to get used to things, whether that be something looking a certain way or tasting a certain way or feeling a certain way. All too often, I think this tendency shows up in expectations people have regarding things they "deserve".

The argument against government benefits on the grounds that it engenders a dependency in its recipients is a classic example of this... (If you've got the time, check out this blog for a great graph showing how government payments basically give people the incentive to continue receiving them) With government benefits, though, you've got a double whammy.

For starters, there are people out there who genuinely need help. Whether or not they deserve the help is a philosophical debate for another time and place. However, once some sort of benefits are in place, more and more people end up feeling they have a right to those payments or help. As time progresses, not only do new people come out of the woodwork wanting help, but the people currently receiving benefits want more. Anytime something gets taken away, you end up with an outcry about the fact that someone, somewhere, was entitled to that.

Along these lines, I have a bad habit of being nice. I'm a serious softy. Ask for help, and I'll usually go out of my way to do it. Need a favor? Give me a call, and I'll (literally) break down walls to get things done. But, in light of recent events over the past few months, I have decided that it is a habit whose time has come. I am done being nice.

More than anything, my feelings have to do with being taken for granted. In the same way that some get accustomed to the government taking care of their every need, people get used to having favors done for them. Curiously, I am in a position where I have the chance to do big favors for people on a fairly regular basis. One of the ways I am trying to provide for my little family is by managing a 12-plex of apartments. Without fail, a month doesn't go by that someone ends up getting their rent in late, and I make a practice of being fairly lenient and not charging a late fee. I'm on a tight budget myself and I understand how tough it can be to come up with rent. I can't remember the last time that someone thanked me for not charging a late fee, even though it saved them at least $50.00. Not to mention some tenants whose rents we've deliberately chosen not to raise due to financial straights they might be in... (easily saving each of them a couple thousand dollars.) But that's alright. It's a business, and there has to be a little bit of give for all the take.

There have also been a couple of times when we've rented to someone we might not have otherwise chosen, whether it be for credit history, or income, or pets, or other things. Again, the month wasn't out before I somehow "owed" more to tenants than what they signed on for. We've helped people get in touch with neighbors when trees fell on their cars. We've paid for other people's cars to be fixed when it wasn't our fault at all, and when it was definitely a favor. Other times, whether it was forgetting to switch utilities into their names, or wanting to switch parking spaces, or complaining that someone has taken their parking space, or complaining about how bad the neighborhood is, or complaining about any myriad number of things, the fact that someone might have been on the receiving end of a favor quickly fades from memory. Tenants trash their apartments, break things, and, generally, suck.

Sometimes I've kindly looked the other way when people's kids misbehave. Still other times we've gone and bought groceries for some of our tenants because I can't stand the thought of someone going hungry. Always, these favors are quickly forgotten or overlooked, because people come to expect a certain level of free stuff.

The worst part, though, is the lack of reciprocation. I know that tenants aren't in the same position I am, and don't expect them to give me a break on my rent or fix things for me. (In fact, I'd rather tenants didn't try to fix stuff, although that's another story...) But it would be kind of nice if someone ever recognized that I *might* have a lot on my plate, and am prone to forgetting things.

Before you know it, something breaks, and tenants want things fixed right away. That's fine. They're paying for it, and they should get what they're paying for. But I often forget. You'd think it would be pretty easy to remind me, since I live in the same building. Apparently it's not. Tenants need to be persistent. I do not avoid people on purpose. I gain nothing by not fixing someone's broken toilet, or heater, or window, or blind, or outlet, or stair rail, or toilet paper holder, or door, or floor, or dishwasher... (I'm sure you all get the picture). I generally put in about 100-110 hours a week across Job#1, Job #2, classes, and homework. Things just fall through the cracks sometimes. If people want something done, what's wrong with reminding me in a non-passive-aggressive manner? I won't take it personally; it's my job.

The worst part of it all is knowing that for all the bad-mouthing, for all the complaints about how "dumpy" their apartment is, for all the whining about something not being up to the modern standards they expect it to be, tenants are going to show up at our door with a smile, needing a favor. "Please, can we just be a week late with rent?" or "Please can you waive the pet fee?" or "I know my kids broke _____, but do you think you could fix it without charging us for it?" or "I know we still have X months left on our contract, but..." or...

As of today, the answer is no.


At least it's more likely to be no than it was yesterday.

Why I love (and why I picked) Economics

I love Economics. Hannah consistently teases me about the way that it has affected my ability to think clearly (take that as you will) but I thoroughly enjoy my classes and the subject matter.

It helps that my teachers spend the first few minutes of every class showing Youtube clips like this one that they’ve received from their students or fellow professors. (It also really helps that BYU finally un-blocked traffic to the Youtube site from their on campus servers…) But, Youtube entertainment aside, this semester has been particularly enjoyable – I’m finally getting past the core classes and into the elective ones where we basically read an article or a paper and discuss it in class.

Today, in lieu of a Youtube clip, my professor started off my Healthcare Economics class by sharing the way he now introduces Monopolies in his Econ 110 class (Introductory Economics for you non-BYU-ites). I will attempt to recreate that all for you here.

He starts by saying that one example of a monopoly is the BYU Bookstore. For starters, it’s a great tie because it is so close to home and pocketbook for anybody in his student audience. Furthermore, BYU, unlike other bookstores at other local universities, has a return policy that is linked to the campus’ honor code. They will only accept returns for your books if you have dropped the class the books are for, and not if you have found them cheaper from somewhere else. Easily skirted, if you just bend the truth a bit, but every student signs away their right to lie when they enroll for classes at BYU.

In January of this year, a girl who goes to BYU wrote an excellent article about this conundrum, and cited my professor… you can read the full text here if you like. In the article, she quoted the following from my professor regarding the bookstore’s policy:

"The policy acts as a tax on honesty. If a student is honest and purchases a replacement product elsewhere, no refund is available. However, if the student fudges the truth a bit, the student can get a refund. Honesty is punished.

"Most stores compete for consumers not just by the prices they charge, but by the service they give, with a refund policy being an important aspect of service. A more typical policy is to match a competitor's price, or to offer a money-back guarantee if a consumer finds a similar product for a cheaper price. But the Bookstore has a lot of market power given their location; they can act like a monopoly so perhaps they don't need to compete as hard as the typical retailer."

… All of which is absolutely true.

The part that gets funny is the way that the managers of the bookstore responded to the truth. (Admittedly, everything else I’ve got to say is opinion or anecdotal… but as they say in Russian, “In every joke, there is a slice of truth”, I choose to believe there are more than a few slices of truth in this…)

Reaction #1: Following the campus newspaper’s publication of the story I linked to above, the bookstore retaliated by pulling all of their advertising from the Daily Universe’s pages for more than a month.

Reaction #2: The managers of the campus bookstore got in touch with my Econ professor, on the pretense that they wanted to make sure that they were “on the same page”. These geniuses showed up in his office armed with a statistical comparison they had compiled, ready to lay down the law. They set out to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that it was cheaper for students to buy any of the textbook materials used in the Economics Department from the bookstore than it was to buy them online. They did a great job – using the used book prices at the bookstore against new prices from online retailers like Amazon.com. My teacher pointed out the apples-to-oranges comparison for them, and they quickly changed tack.

Reaction #3: “But the bookstore can’t be a monopoly, because we employ people who are bishops and stake presidents (LDS ecclesiastical leaders)…” I’m not quite sure which angle to attack this one from because it is so vulnerable. Another one of my Econ professors has created what he calls the “Ad Hominem Index”. It is used to judge the logical and rational strength of one’s argument based on the number of personal attacks in it. In a nutshell, it is an inverse relationship… if all you’ve got is “You’re wrong because you suck,” your argument isn’t going to go very well. I think what the bookstore employees had to say is pretty much the opposite of that style of arguing, but no stronger. They’re saying, “we can’t be an evil monopoly, because we’re good people!” Obviously, my professor didn’t have much trouble seeing through their crap, and the managers left, angry and defeated.

But they weren’t done yet.

Reaction #4: To get back at my professor, the bookstore pulled all of the materials he had ordered for his classes from their shelves, replacing them instead with a sign that said “See Professor”.

Today my professor structures his courses so that students don’t have to buy books from the bookstore. In particular, he and the other professors who teach Econ 110 have set the course up so that it can be taken without purchasing anything from the bookstore. All of the reading and coursework can be found on www.aplia.com, for a small fee that goes into Aplia’s pocket. Considering the fact that Econ 110 is a part of the general education core classes for BYU students, and not just Economics majors, the turnover is immense. Easily 400-500 students take Econ 110 every semester, and the bookstore doesn’t get a dime. If the students do want to buy a physical copy of the book, the professors all encourage them to buy it online through Aplia, who sells it for a price less than 50% of what the bookstore charges (even for a used copy.)

I picked Economics because I wanted to be something other than the average “Business-Finance” undergraduate. I stuck with Economics because I thought it was a really effective way of explaining the things that people do and why they do them. I LOVE Economics because in moments like these, it gives you the skill set to intelligently present an impersonal, yet irrefutable argument.

Amazing how a little bit of knowledge goes a long way.

They say the darndest things...

From time to time, we are amazed by the budding intelligence and wit of our kids. Everyone else is, of course, convinced that their kids are perfect as well, so let me elaborate before you dismiss this for yet another parent's superlative rant about how great their kid is.

Alena gets a story before bedtime. Last night, we were all snuggled up to read the Little Golden Book called "Another Monster at the End of This Book! (Starring Grover and Elmo)". Because it was late, and because she's two, and because the world is never fair, but mostly because her brother wanted to climb in bed with us since it looked like we were having so much fun, Lena threw a fit. She pushed Oliver off the bed, (which he took as par for the course,) and proceeded to inform me that, "I doh want it anymore. I doh like monster book."

So storytime was over, we packed up, she got tucked in, and it was time for bed. A few minutes later, after the wailing subsided, I went back and explained to her that because she said she didn't like and didn't want the story anymore, she wasn't going to get the story anymore. It sounded like the logic stuck because she said ok, apologized to Oliver, and cuddled back into her blankets.

A couple minutes after that, she started calling for Daddy, and so I went into her room to see what was up. She proceeded to inform me that she didn't like her bed, and didn't want to go to sleep anymore, so could she come out now?

Oops.

Like I said earlier though, the world is never fair (or logical, for that matter) when you're two.

Three Years Already?

Wise Words from a Wise Guy

"A wise and frugal government, which shall leave men free to regulate their own pursuits of industry and improvement, and shall not take from the mouth of labor the bread it has earned - this is the sum of good government."

- Thomas Jefferson

Long Overdue... Bragging...?

One of my classes this semester focuses on the works of Lev (Leo) Tolstoy. This meant churning through both War & Peace and Anna Karenina in the first 8 weeks of the semester, a combined 3,000 + pages. I have learned that one of Tolstoy's favorite tendencies to ridicule is the desire to plan. Now planning in and of itself isn't a bad thing - everyone knows that. Even Tolstoy really lays into characters in his books who wander through life like chickens with their heads cut off. What Tolstoy is trying to criticize are the type of people who make concrete plans for every moment of every day.

This leaves me in a bit of a dilemma. I have a very full schedule right now, choc-a-bloc full of things that all seem to be fairly important. Have to work if we're going to pay the bills and eat. Have to go to school if we're going to ever be in a situation other than this one. Have to do homework and study if I want my schooling to be of any serious value. Oh yeah, then there are two lovely, growing kids and a wonderful wife to spend time with. Oh, and sleep.

And so, of necessity, my days are filled to the brim. Both with things to do, and with blessings. Blessings like a car breaking, and a kitchen floor that needs to be replaced, in the week prior to the two honking-est midterms of the semester, which is followed by the week wherein I have two large research papers due. I think Tolstoy and Heavenly Father must get along great. I can picture them both chilling out with some pryaniki and a hot drink watching and saying... "Nicely done, Evan, you managed to shoehorn everything in that needed to get done. Here's two more things that need to get finished off, and one of them is going to handicap the speed with which you can get all the rest of the stuff done. Betcha didn't see that one coming!"

I will be the first to admit that I have a motherlode-sized vein of obsessive compulsive tendency in me that manifests itself in my desires to plan. And plan everything into it's perfect little time slot, and know that everything will be finished within the 15-30 minutes I have allotted it. (Because everything that takes longer than that can be broken into perfectly manageable 15-20 minute sized pieces, obviously...) And know that nothing else will possibly come up that could take precedence or affect my perfectly thought out little plan. Because I have thought of all possible contingencies. That being said, the biggest things that I didn't see coming aren't even a broken car or a leaky floor that needed to be fixed.

Our kids are growing up faster than I can process it. Granted, my life is pretty busy right now so one of the last things on my mind when I'm playing with them is a comparison of how much further they've progressed. I guess that comes with a busy schedule - it has a way of causing... even forcing... you to live in the present. But I would like to post my rebuttal to things that I can imagine Tolstoy would have to say about my currently crazy state of existence with the following videos.

Exhibit A: Lena's Birthday Party. I personally find the first attempt at blowing out the 2 candles adorable, due in large part to the fact that it was punctuated by a characteristic "Oh no!" when it proved unsuccessful.

Exhibit B: Pop rocks. We recently picked up a couple of packets of pop rocks. Lena thought they were great. She found it hilarious to leave her mouth hanging open and listen to them popping. "Look, Daddy, [gaping mouth], so funny!" Naturally, we fed them to Oliver too.

Exhibit C: Playing pirates and sword fighting. Because a toothbrush and one of Mummy's wooden spoons are perfect for it.

Exhibit D: Lena tearing around the house at her birthday party and nearly running over two little kids, the couch, and a few grown-ups.

Exhibit E: Oliver's new trick. He has moved from crawling on to greater heights, and now spends most of his time policing our ottoman in the middle of our living room to ensure that anything on it is removed to the floor.

He could pull himself up on anything else in the house just as easily, but we think he likes the ottoman best because it is the place that we are in the habit of keeping things that we don't want him to get into.

I must admit that all of these were "something"s I definitely failed to plan for. And it's a good thing that they, like the floor and the car, still found their way into my life.

T Minus 2 Hours

In two hours I get my husband back. This week has been pretty busy for him. Every week is busy, but this week he had two Econ midterms, and then one of his Russian professors (a professor that teaches Russian, but is not actually Russian, just for clarification) sprung a midterm on the class with 24 hours notice... scheduled right in the middle of both of his econ tests. Lovely. So, between revision and his normal (absurd) amounts of homework, Evan hasn't exactly had an awful lot of time to really be home and relax. But all of that is going to change in two hours, because in two hours the testing center closes, and even if he hasn't finished, he will have finished. And that means I can finally clean the glass surfaces in our apartment. One of Evan's little idiosyncrasies is that he likes to solve math problems on our windows and mirrors rather than on paper. I think it helps him to collect his thoughts, and I find it funny and rather endearing. So, I thought I would share pictures of some of the surfaces in our place that have been intelligently graffitied.

Some of the kitchen window graffiti...

And on our linen closet door...

And on our bedroom closet door.

I love my husband. And I'll be glad to have him back, and have our family be back to normal.

25 Semi-Random Things About Evan

Like many of you, I wouldn't usually compile one of these lists. I have thoroughly enjoyed reading the lists of some of my friends though, and thought it only fair that I should put 25 things about me out into cyberspace. I wouldn't exactly call them Random though, because once I started down an idea, I wrote about it until I came up with another idea.

I apologize that it turned out as long as it did.

I decided to put it on our blog too, because I thought that some people who would really enjoy reading it probably don't look at Facebook.


25 Things About Me:

1. I love chick flicks. Adore them, (well, some of them.) I can only stomach so much of some of them, i.e. “The Other Boleyn Girl.” But one of my favorite movies of all time is “Love Actually,” followed in quick succession by “Serendipity”. I also like movies/plays/books that end without a happy ending. I love it when the person we've been rooting for all along doesn't get the girl/guy/job, and gets a solid helping of reality. For a movie like this, check out "The Visitor."

2. I hate when people misspell things; especially glaringly obvious stuff. Didn’t they teach us the differences between there, their, and they’re in third grade? When you publish something, don’t people get paid to catch those sorts of things? And anyone who gets ideas to say, “I hate that to,” or “That bugs me two” will get a punch in the face. (Erika, that could solve one of yours for you…) I care less about people who screw up grammar, but sometimes that bugs me too.

3. I’m fluent in three languages: Russian, American, and Spanish. I will soon be learning Arabic. I am also working on learning proper English. I have found that my most effective study tool towards proper English is a children’s tv show called Charlie & Lola. They are most adept at exploring the uses of superlatives like completely, absolutely, extremely, never, not ever, and mostly. My most absolutely, completely favoritish episode so far is the one about a Dotty Elephant.

4. I dreamt of being a fighter pilot when I was growing up. I am now much too tall for that, though I haven’t yet finished growing up. I have considered going into intelligence agencies, because being a spy would be fun. Hannah says no, and I completely absolutely understand.

5. I know how to build a house from the ground up, even though I don’t have a contractor’s license.

6. I am a surf-aholic. This does not work very well, since I am currently finishing up my undergraduate degrees in the “wonderful” state of Utah. If I could, I would surf every day, for several hours a day, and twice on weekends or any days with good swell, and most days ending in “y”. Future life circumstances permitting, we would love to own houses near remote surf breaks in different countries.

7. I want to get my pilot’s license. Hannah has graciously agreed to allow this, so long as we have life insurance for the kids. I’ll wait till graduation. I would also love to ride motorcycles, but my grandmother made me promise as a child that I wouldn’t. She has since died, but Hannah is now quite adept at enforcing said promise.

8. I am much stronger than people imagine, and most of it is in my legs. When I played lacrosse for BYU, this translated to squatting a lot of weight. At the same time, my upper body is comparatively weak. But I can generate 1.65 horsepower.

9. My wife has had to teach me how to swim.

10. I may never entirely “grow up”. Now that I have kids, it gives me a great excuse not to!

11. I love to read. I read everything I can get my hands on. I don’t have enough time to read, because now I am stuck studying textbooks. Someday, I plan to have a library collection that is on par with my Dad’s. And I will have read them all.

12. I am a good cook. No, really. I can cook very well. It would be fun to be a chef, but I don’t have the knowledge of alcohol that seems to be a job requirement.

13. My mom is the man. My dad is a stud, too. I find myself realizing that I am becoming more and more like him. Funnily enough, this no longer bothers me like the thought of it did in earlier years. The physical limitations of gender will keep me from turning out TOO much like my Mom, but she really is the man.

14. I probably suffer from a mild-to-severe case of OCD. This manifests itself in two of my personal tendencies. Firstly, I have a thing about rearranging furniture. Given the opportunity, I would rearrange furniture in our bedroom and living room every 2 months or so. Due to this tendency, there was a period of time in high school when I had my bed on a table. Yes, a table. It was the most genius set-up I have created. I’m not quite sure what it comes from. As a teenager, I think that I reasoned it away as my way of dealing with a messy room. A very messy room at that. Secondly, I make lists. I think that it is my way of dealing with my very busy life. Problem is, having made the list I promptly forget about it and move on with my life. (I don’t have the space here, but if anyone wants to hear, I will tell you what Tolstoy has to say about people who make lists like this. It’s pretty good.)

15. Like many of you who will read this, Hannah and I have a dream house. Actually, several, and many ideas on what we would like to do to the various houses we own along the way. It all started when we lived in San Diego as newlyweds and would take an afternoon walk around our little neighborhood, critiquing the houses around us. We would remember the ones we liked, and talk about what we would change on the houses we didn’t quite all-the-way like. I guess that can be expected from someone who knows construction, and married an artist who wants to be an architect. She comes up with all the good ideas, and I know enough about houses to be able to bring them to fruition.

16. I am double Majoring – in Economics and Russian, and will get a business minor. I really like Economics because I think it helps to explain the world and why we do the things we do. Russian is also fun.

17. Given the opportunity, I would be a hermit. I really don’t like people. It’s not that I think I am better than anybody, because I will be the first to point out some of my major character flaws that you probably overlooked. It stems more from my hatred of dealing with all of the social conventions and nonsensical games that people expect from you. It’s like going on a first date, all the time, with everyone.

18. While much of my talent has faded due to a lack of use, I was once fairly musical. In my heyday, I could play the piano, was battling for first-chair trumpet, and was in the top choir at my high school.

19. I love the outdoors. I will do things outside at the drop of a hat, (and now, with my wife’s permission.) I look forward to teaching my kids to camp, hike, etc. and will really enjoy teaching them both to fish. Hannah has promised that we can do our first camping trip this spring/summer. I am ecstatic.

20. I am fairly good at Boggle. Hannah, (when she agrees to play with me,) swears that I make words up. I am just being more creative! My friend Jake recently showed me a game called Scramble, a facebook application that is very similar to Boggle. I like it a lot, (completely and absolutely). Then my brother-in-law’s sister rocked my 200’s scores by scoring 500 points. In 3 minutes. I was amazed.

21. I am extremely indecisive. It probably stems from my not having very many “favorites”. I like to think that I am easily pleased/amused/entertained

. I should clarify that I have no trouble whatsoever when it comes to making important decisions. The ones that stump me are the inconsequential decisions like what movie we should watch tonight or what flavor of ice cream shall we buy… or worst of all, which shirt/pants/skirt/top should Hannah wear? Cause let’s face it, I don’t really care.

22. I look at the toilet paper after I wipe. Don’t let me know if you don’t, because you should probably start. How else do you know if it’s clean?

23. Like many other people out there, I wouldn’t mind losing some weight. Unlike many people out there, after losing some weight, I still plan to weigh more than 200 lbs.

24. One of my thumbs is shorter than the other. By a good half-inch. When I was about 12 or 13 I played goalie in soccer, and shattered the growth plate in the thumb on my right hand. Now, I have one 24-year-old size thumb, and one half it’s age. I wonder if that will mean I get to live longer.

25. My new favorite hobby, (tied with surfing,) is wrestling with my kids. I never realized how much having children changes your perspectives on life and makes you re-evaluate your priorities.

Wasn't It Just Christmas?

I have been robbed. Someone stole my time. I am pretty sure it hasn't been almost a year since last Christmas. And I can't believe, for that matter, that it is December. Maybe it has something to do with the unseasonal warm weather we have been having since September. I don't know. All I know is that the end of the year is fast approaching, and I have no idea what happened to the rest of it.

November was a busy month for us. In fact, now that I think about it, I can't think of a particular thing that made it more busy than usual... it was just busy. It seems to be the story of our lives right now. I think we have been waiting all year for things to calm down a bit, and it never seems to happen. Maybe that is why things seem to have gone so quickly.

So anyway, highlights from the month...
- Not really November, but close enough... Halloween was fun. Oliver was a cow. The same cow that Lena was last year. Lena was 8 months old, Oliver was two months. Go figure. Lena was a Kung Fu fighter. Thanks Hayley for the black and gold silk outfit from China! I didn't take pictures. I forgot. Oh well.
- My fabulous, if I might say so myself, Christmas tree went up two weeks before Thanksgiving. I know that's not kosher for some Americans, but I couldn't care less. In fact, if it had been left up to me I would have had the tree up around Halloween, but Evan reined me in.


- We figured out a portion of just how much information Lena soaks up. The day we put up the tree we heard Lena saying something over and over again when she was playing with one of the decorations, a french horn. "Too-ba, Too-ba. Mamma... Too-ba. Oh Wow! Too-ba!" "That's a french horn, sweetie. Can you say 'horn'?" "Hoh-w" "Good girl. What is that called (pointing to the horn)?" "Too-ba!" So the french horn became a tuba. On closer inspection of her show, it turns out that a tuba is a frequently featured instrument, along with a flute, an oboe, and a trumpet. Lena also like to pull the icicles off the tree and play them like a flute. "Foo! Foo!" There are definitely worse things that she could be picking up from TV shows.


- The stray cat got taken to the shelter. Our cat was on her best behaviour for us for the next week. Awesome.
- Oliver started eating solid food just before he turned 3 months. Yes, I know you aren't supposed to feed solid food to babies younger than 6 months, but, quite frankly, he is growing faster than I can produce food for him to eat... and its not like there is a shortage on my end either. He loves it, cries when there is no more left, and leaves virtually no mess. No adverse reactions to either rice cereal or applesauce. Other babies must be pansies if they have to wait for 6 months to swing around. Kind of kidding.

- Oliver grew. Nothing new there. Today Evan took the kids and went to the gym. He checked Lena into the childcare and the girl behind the desk was very confused as to why he wasn't checking in Oliver too - the minimum age is 6 months. Yes, our boy is a giant. Poor kid. He looks like he should be walking by now, and since he obviously isn't, it just makes him seem like a really lazy, fat chunk to anyone who doesn't know him. Sometimes I feel sorry for him, and then I realize that he will probably never have a problem with bullying, unless you count the fact that he may be the one doing it.

- Evan finished all of his midterms. Hurray for having my husband (somewhat) back. Bring on finals in two weeks. And Christmas break... we are so ready for it.
- Oliver started giggling. I don't have a video of it yet, but as soon as I do I will post it. I love that he is interacting more with us. I love that Lena has also discovered making her brother laugh. Oliver loves her and Lena loves him. It is so cute to see the two 'playing' together. She even shares her blankets and toys with him. She doesn't share with just anyone, as I am sure the nursery leaders and kids will attest to. Although, I don't think she has gone so far as to share her monkey yet.


... and that wasn't even half of our November. More to follow! I'm off to bed.

Trashy McFeline Update:

--to read more about how the nastiest cat in town forced itself into our lives--
--visit our friend's & neighbor's page here--

Although I truly wanted to let my imagination run wild with ways to mitigate the cat "problem"... Hannah talked me into taking it into a shelter.

Unfortunately, on the way to the animal shelter my practical side got the best of me and I had a bit of an epiphany...

Why was I going out of my way to take a rather gross not-really-a-kitten-anymore cat that I didn't want to a place full of animals that nobody else wants?

So I had a little bit of a training session with the cat and explained that it pretty much had two choices.

By choosing option one, it could go with the more conventional stop, drop & roll, where it would quickly learn about gravity. In case it preferred to postpone the effects of gravity, I gave it a crash course (pun intended), in the principles behind Bernoulli's theorem and the mechanics of flight: lots of speed, right attitude, and a tail to hold it steady.

Then I pulled into the fast lane on the freeway, carefully rolled down the passenger's side window, did the pre-flight checks, (landing gear, flaps, tail, engines,) and positioned the box it was riding in in the "eject" position.

... man that cat can JUMP! ...

At home, Hannah told me that Lena searched for the cat for all of 5 minutes...

"Kii-iii, wheah d' go?!" (Kitty, where'd you go?)

"Oh no! Wheah cat!"

"Caaa-aaaat" (the "t" is actually silent)



Then she got absorbed in a book and forgot all about our little visit from the stink fairy.


Disclaimer: No animals were harmed in the actual making of this post. Some, however, may have been harmed in the research material for it. We take no responsibility for damaged windshields, broken headlights, paint chips, spray, splatter, or plopping of animal bits or other material that you may have come in contact with as a result of your reading said post. Also, this didn't really happen. The cat was taken safely to the shelter, of sound body... we can't vouch for the mind.

[Mormons] made bastards of their (the homosexuals') (adopted) children...

Regardless of someone's stance for or against Proposition 8, the pedantic backlash against the Mormon church by the opponents of the California ballot measure is pathetic at best, and ridiculous no matter which way you look at it.

It is high time that equality became an absolute idea, truly afforded to those who claim to seek or defend it, especially by those who pretend to seek it so desperately. How unfortunate that those who concocted and executed such an excellently managed campaign for their beliefs have resorted to juvenile tantrum-like ragings against anyone they can blame.

It reminds me of times when I was a kid and wanted something so badly that I thought it was a "need", wove a story and presented it to my parents, (who inevitably saw right through it,) and then screamed any manner of insults I could think of at them when I didn't get my way. Common retorts included, "It's a free country, I'll do what I want!" "You can't take that away from me, it's my right!" and the thought "I'll show them!" followed by an attempt at never speaking to them for a million bajillion years.

As a child, rules existed in my house, which were aimed at teaching me how to interact in an acceptable manner with those around me. Thanks to my wise parents, these rules also specified a set of consequences for not accepting and not abiding by those conventions. Rules exist in a society to define the way in which we must interact with those around us and the consequences for our failure to do so.

Thankfully, we live in a society where we as citizens have the right to adjust, as we see fit, and by the voice of the majority of the people, said conventions, rules, and consequences. This is exactly what took place in California; the voice of the majority of the people decided that the State of California should be a government in which marriage is defined in the Constitution as being solely between a man and a woman. To claim that the Mormon Church, or even the State of Utah took away the freedom of 5,642,343 million people who voted yes (as of 7 Nov, 2008) and "forced" this measure to pass is absolutely ridiculous. 

I want to make it clear that I am not attempting to pass judgement on the number of upstanding homosexual individuals whose lives this measure did touch in an extremely personal manner. I am expressing my disgust with the very vocal minority of individuals who, like petulant children, are lashing out in anger and frustration against a false stereotype and an institution they may know little about, simply because they did not get their way and want someone to blame. The ones who acted in this instance are the 10 million plus CALIFORNIA residents who voted on the measure, why no backlash against them, no cries of bigotry? Much better to find a scapegoat (in the form of the LDS church) than to face the truth: The majority of Californians who voted would like their constitution amended to say that marriage is strictly between a man and a woman. 

Railings against Mormons for making bastards of the adopted children of the 20,000 homosexual couples married since the law was overturned by the California courts, and cries to punish the state of Utah are nothing more than querulous bellyaching and should be regarded with as much weight as one affords to a child who persists in throwing their toys out of their crib.

As we DO live in the United States of America, with all of her glorious freedoms, I say let these people express themselves according to their various rights, in ways that are constructive and non-slanderous. If they feel that they can not abide by the newly amended constitution, let them pursue such legal remedies as prescribed for alteration of the legal codes.

Until such time, feel free to stand up for what you believe in, but please quit the whining, stop with the tantrums, grow up and act like adults. I know that I always found that when I was trying to get something from my parents, it helped to act like a grown-up. After all, we don't let children get married, now do we?

Peeeeease, Daddad?

On Sunday, Alena decided that she wanted some chips. So she asked for some...

"Peeeeeease, daddad? Wat shcheeeps!"


"Peeease?"










Me: "Ok, Lena, you can have some chips... here you go..."

Alena: "Mmmmmm...."

Alena: "Oh nooooooo!!!" (starts crying)

Me: (to myself) CRAP! Not another black eye!!

Alena: "Mon-ti! Oh no! Monti!"

Alena: "Daddad, Mon-ti no wat shcheeps."
(Disclaimer: As these pictures were all taken post-dumpum, some pictures may have been deliberately misrepresented with regards to the overall timeline of events.)

What I saw when I got home...

Lena playing...

Oliver "Playing"...



...and Mummy playing too...

We love our new piano. It keeps everybody happy!

She's a Natural.

With the time that Mummy and Dada spent in the hospital bringing Oliver home, Alena decided she would improve on a talent she has had for a while - Playing the piano! Whilst her previous talents were mainly of the disorganized polyphonic type, and fortissimo on a quiet day, she has really focused and is showing significant improvement!

She has great form! Elbows out, wrists up, good posture, any one of my piano teachers would be extremely proud. We secretly think that she and Grandma Palmer have been setting up piano lessons via Skype. It's the only thing we can thing of that explains how she learned to read music!

If only we can get her to reach the pedals before she starts in on Rachmaninoff... Prelude no. 23 might be a bit much for the neighbors when Alena really gets into her groove.  

'Til then, practice, practice, practice! 

He's Here!!!

We are pleased to announce the much-anticipated arrival of Oliver Molony Thomas! 

He was born at 8:58 PM August 14, 2008 and weighed in at 8 lbs 8.8 oz, 21 1/2 inches long, big hands and huge feet, and has a full head of straight dark black hair! Other factors aside, this is going to be one lucky kid. As many of you may remember, the 2008 Beijing Olympics were opened on 08/8/2008, because eight is a lucky number. If 8s are lucky, then this kid has it coming! He has 7 eights! 

 

Mummy is back from the hospital, and recovering well. We are lucky to have had the skilled help of Dr. Sudi Moein, a family friend and extremely talented ob/gyn. The recovery has been (or at least has seemed to this observer,) much easier for Hannah this time around. 

Alena is still growing quicker than we would like her to. One of her new talents is telling off Mummy/Daddy/Grownups. It is hard to keep a straight face when she starts wagging her little finger and delivering a very enthusiastic "No, No, No!" I think she is enjoying being a toddler and seeking to figure out the nuances of social interaction. She is also figuring out just what to do with the new arrival. She varies between attention-seeking tantrums, endearing cuddles, and precious attempts to help with little Oliver. Today, Hannah caught Lena trying to help brush Oliver's teeth with her tiny little toothbrush! We hope that she quickly understands that there is still more than enough love to go around. 

Finally, I don't know exactly how Hannah does it. Being pregnant and taking care of a toddler is tough enough, but now that there are two, she will really have her hands full! I asked a guy at work who has 5 kids, all under 9 years old, just how he and his wife handle it. His response wasn't quite as helpful as I would have hoped... I was hoping for a secret trick or something, but all he had for me was that it was easy, he just went to work! (Hannah, when you read this, I PROMISE that I will not just take off to work and leave you hanging... don't worry)

The most amazing thing of all is just how much Oliver fits in to our little family. He just belongs. I first felt it about 4 hours after he was born when I ran home to pick up some stuff and started uploading pictures to send out. The little guy in the pictures was somebody who I knew! (and loved...) And it sure hasn't taken him long to get me wrapped around his little finger. Being a parent is a great, but ominously responsible thing to do. I love it. 

And now we are four!