Somehow, pictures never seem to do things like this justice, but you can't tell me that these don't make you smile...
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Oliver's New Expression
A week or two back (Wha...?? It's already June??) Oliver developed a new facial expression. He kind of lifts his eyebrows, and squints his eyes, and does his usual open-mouthed smile. He does it for practically any reason (and especially when he knows he has done something wrong and is about to get into trouble...), and it makes him look rather comical.
Somehow, pictures never seem to do things like this justice, but you can't tell me that these don't make you smile...
Somehow, pictures never seem to do things like this justice, but you can't tell me that these don't make you smile...
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
All I'm Gonna Say About It
If I could have voted, I think I would have voted against Proposition 8.
However, good job to the CA Supreme Court for upholding the will of the people. That is democracy in action, my friends.
However, good job to the CA Supreme Court for upholding the will of the people. That is democracy in action, my friends.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Having Our Cake (and Eating It Too)
Welcome to the family, Honda Accord Hybrid, otherwise known as 'Giggles' (Bwahahahaha). Part tree-hugging friendly, part anti-vegetarian, part comfortable family-mobile, part a$$-hauling 255 hp monster (0-60mph in 6.7secs... faster by a whopping 1.1 seconds than the 2005 BMW 325i, and tied with the 2008... neener-neener-neener!) - all of which is 100% worth signing away the next 60 months of our life. (It's so we can buy a house next, people... relax.) And all in a beautiful charcoal grey.
We love it. Now to teach Oliver how to say "vroom"... he did have the sputtering sound of the Jetta down pretty good. Thbbtttttttbbbbbtttttttthhhhhh!
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Sleeping Habits of our Little Boy
You will need to turn up the volume on your computer.
Our little boy snores. We think it is really cute.
He is also mostly disregarding the pediatrician recommended 'back sleeping'. Most of the time he sleeps on his front with his bottom in the air. Sometimes, though, right before we go to bed, we will find him in positions like this:
And for good measure...
Friday, May 1, 2009
Poor Lena
About two weeks ago we were running a rather hectic day. Both Evan and I were operating on very little sleep after the end of the semester rush to get assignments done, Evan still hadn't handed in one of his papers, still hadn't studied for his finals, and we were running late for my pre-scheduled (and might I add, rather inconveniently scheduled by the government) biometrics appointment with USCIS in Salt Lake City. Oh yeah, and it was snowing, so we couldn't speed... not that we would anyway, right?
We managed to get a bit lost on our way to the USCIS office, which I think took about 3 years off my life span. My last experience with USCIS appointments had been in San Diego, where they were incredibly anal about everything. If you turned up even a little late you had to reschedule your appointment (not an easy thing I might add), and you risked deportation. They had armed security sitting at the door. They also had metal detectors, and searched bags as you went in the door. No one smiled, because, heaven forbid America seem warm and welcoming, and my officer was mean middle aged lady who evidently loathed her job. As it turns out I fretted needlessly about being late for my appointment in Salt Lake. It was a much smaller office, and we were the only people there. There was one security guard, but he judged us from afar and didn't even bother to check our personal possessions to make sure we weren't nefarious individuals. We were in and out of there in 10 minutes.
But I digress... We came home, with the deadline for Evan's paper rapidly approaching, and were about to go and hand it in when our bed jumped up and hit Lena in the head. Well, actually Lena wandered into our room, tripped up, and hit her head right on the corner of our bedframe. It left a deep, gaping gash, and she screamed... a lot. As soon as I tried to clean it up I knew we would have to take her in to get stitches. Fortunately our neighbours were home, and they were more than happy at the prospect of looking after Oliver for a while, so we headed off to Urgent Care.
Lena did really well throughout all of it. After about 5 minutes she stopped crying, and surprisingly there wasn't very much blood at all. Since we went to the BYU Health Center, and they just have a small facility, we had to wait around for about one and a half hours while a missionary got his hand stitched up. I will say this though: whilst I have my personal grievances with privatized health care, and even though we had to wait as long as we did, it was nice to know that we wouldn't be waiting in line for 5-8 hours to get medical attention, which almost always has been my experience with public health care.
So anyway; the stitches. Evan was chosen to be the 'bad parent', and I waited in the lobby and listened to my little girl screaming for 20 minutes. Evan said that they wrapped her up burrito style and they had him hold her still. She figured out pretty quickly that if she held herself still things would end quicker, so she screamed, but she held still: apparently most kids won't even let the doctor near them and start thrashing around once that first stitch goes in. After it all she was as happy as a clown - she got lollipops, stickers, candy, ice cream, pink milk, special attention from Mummy and Daddy... basically anything she wanted for the next couple of days.
All of this was, of course, rather traumatic for me. The only times I have had stitches was for both c-sections. None of my sisters ever had stitches. In fact, none of us really had accidents as kids, and it took until last year before one of my sister broke a bone. I really had no idea what to expect, and as a mother I didn't want to be placing my child in a situation that would cause her needless pain or trauma. Sedation - conscious or unconscious - was not an option unless we went to the main hospital, which realistically wasn't an option since our insurance would only cover half of the cost of the visit. Evan was amazing, and spent most of the time reassuring me that I was doing the right thing, and that our little girl would be fine.
Speaking of insurance, as much as I hate the BYU plan, I am glad that we have it. As long as we get care in the Student Health Center we have an urgent care co-pay of $15. When we got our bill for Lena's stitches we were shocked to see that without coverage we would have paid almost $900 for that visit alone. Had we gone to Utah Valley Hospital to get the conscious sedation it would have easily been more than that, and we would have had to pay half.
Lena was able to get her stitches out 5 days later. She was so brave! They didn't have to wrap her up or hold her down. She knew what was coming, so she just sat there and bit her lip as her eyes welled up with tears. It was heartbreaking.
So, Lena is left with a little scar on her head. Fortunately, if it doesn't fade completely over the next few years it will actually make its way up into her hairline... who knew the skin on your face grew that way!
We managed to get a bit lost on our way to the USCIS office, which I think took about 3 years off my life span. My last experience with USCIS appointments had been in San Diego, where they were incredibly anal about everything. If you turned up even a little late you had to reschedule your appointment (not an easy thing I might add), and you risked deportation. They had armed security sitting at the door. They also had metal detectors, and searched bags as you went in the door. No one smiled, because, heaven forbid America seem warm and welcoming, and my officer was mean middle aged lady who evidently loathed her job. As it turns out I fretted needlessly about being late for my appointment in Salt Lake. It was a much smaller office, and we were the only people there. There was one security guard, but he judged us from afar and didn't even bother to check our personal possessions to make sure we weren't nefarious individuals. We were in and out of there in 10 minutes.
But I digress... We came home, with the deadline for Evan's paper rapidly approaching, and were about to go and hand it in when our bed jumped up and hit Lena in the head. Well, actually Lena wandered into our room, tripped up, and hit her head right on the corner of our bedframe. It left a deep, gaping gash, and she screamed... a lot. As soon as I tried to clean it up I knew we would have to take her in to get stitches. Fortunately our neighbours were home, and they were more than happy at the prospect of looking after Oliver for a while, so we headed off to Urgent Care.
Lena did really well throughout all of it. After about 5 minutes she stopped crying, and surprisingly there wasn't very much blood at all. Since we went to the BYU Health Center, and they just have a small facility, we had to wait around for about one and a half hours while a missionary got his hand stitched up. I will say this though: whilst I have my personal grievances with privatized health care, and even though we had to wait as long as we did, it was nice to know that we wouldn't be waiting in line for 5-8 hours to get medical attention, which almost always has been my experience with public health care.
So anyway; the stitches. Evan was chosen to be the 'bad parent', and I waited in the lobby and listened to my little girl screaming for 20 minutes. Evan said that they wrapped her up burrito style and they had him hold her still. She figured out pretty quickly that if she held herself still things would end quicker, so she screamed, but she held still: apparently most kids won't even let the doctor near them and start thrashing around once that first stitch goes in. After it all she was as happy as a clown - she got lollipops, stickers, candy, ice cream, pink milk, special attention from Mummy and Daddy... basically anything she wanted for the next couple of days.
All of this was, of course, rather traumatic for me. The only times I have had stitches was for both c-sections. None of my sisters ever had stitches. In fact, none of us really had accidents as kids, and it took until last year before one of my sister broke a bone. I really had no idea what to expect, and as a mother I didn't want to be placing my child in a situation that would cause her needless pain or trauma. Sedation - conscious or unconscious - was not an option unless we went to the main hospital, which realistically wasn't an option since our insurance would only cover half of the cost of the visit. Evan was amazing, and spent most of the time reassuring me that I was doing the right thing, and that our little girl would be fine.Speaking of insurance, as much as I hate the BYU plan, I am glad that we have it. As long as we get care in the Student Health Center we have an urgent care co-pay of $15. When we got our bill for Lena's stitches we were shocked to see that without coverage we would have paid almost $900 for that visit alone. Had we gone to Utah Valley Hospital to get the conscious sedation it would have easily been more than that, and we would have had to pay half.
Lena was able to get her stitches out 5 days later. She was so brave! They didn't have to wrap her up or hold her down. She knew what was coming, so she just sat there and bit her lip as her eyes welled up with tears. It was heartbreaking.
So, Lena is left with a little scar on her head. Fortunately, if it doesn't fade completely over the next few years it will actually make its way up into her hairline... who knew the skin on your face grew that way!
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
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.
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 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.
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