These boots were made for walking . . .

Somehow this week has slipped by, largely unmarked by its ordinariness. But then, I suppose I should remind myself to be grateful for ordinary! Excitement is not always a positive thing. And besides, as her fairy godmother tells Princess Amy in The Ordinary Princess: "I shall give you something that will make you happier than all these fal-alls and fripperies put together: you shall be ordinary!" And so we are. Dan continues to work, Andrew continues on his merry way and I scramble to keep up with him. (Oh, and write a dissertation.)

We've seen a fair amount of cousins this week, which delights Andrew no end. I wish I could be so sanguine about his cousins' delight . . . We spent some time almost every other day at Jeni's house, where Andrew tyrannizes his cousins with his inability to share. (Of course, I suppose in all fairness it should also be admitted that his cousins occasionally have a hard time sharing with him--Jacob, in particular, is especially zealous in ensuring that Andrew doesn't take anything that Emi wants: an admirable quality in a big-brother, but a little hard on his younger cousin). Strangely, despite the fact that someone--if not all three of them--is in tears at least once during each visit, the children still seem to enjoy the prospect of spending time with each other!

On Saturday, Jared brought his two kids over for grandma to watch while he and Mitcee attended Mitcee's brother's sealing in the temple. The baby, Brielle, was sweet and quiet most of the time (except for a curious resistance to staying asleep). Andrew was quite taken with her, to the point that he happily said her name over and over and over . . . He also had this curious idea that he had some right to the baby: at one point, I was holding her while my mom was trying to get ready to go up to Salt Lake. Andrew came up to me and said, quite insistently, "I hold." It took some convincing before he was brought to accept that he was not going to be able to hold the baby. (Andrew's current fascination with babies has me wondering if he's perhaps trying to tell me something . . .). However, Andrew was not completely without consolation in his failure to hold the baby--his cousin Joshua played with him most of the time he was here, with only a few confrontations. (Apparently neither of them are very used to sharing: Joshua told me that a few of Andrew's toys were, in fact, his). But Joshua is a really good-tempered little boy, and quite easy to amuse, as long as you're willing to set up his bowling pins over and over and over (and can somehow manage to keep Andrew out of the way at the same time). Joshua also instructed Andrew in the finer arts of Sesame Street character recognition. He explained to both of us that it was "cookie monster" on the cover of one of Andrew's books (actually, it was Grover). When, a few minutes later, I asked Andrew who was on the cover of the book (I didn't really think he'd answer), he said distinctly "cookie mo."

We also learned this week that we have to be careful about how long we leave Andrew alone with his Grandma Patti (or maybe she's trying to hint that she doesn't want to be an unpaid babysitter!): on Monday, I came back from spending several mostly fruitless hours on campus with Dan, at an orientation seminar for new faculty. (I wish they'd told us that the only relevant part--the insurance portion--wasn't going to be until later in the afternoon. Having grown up in Provo and attended BYU, I didn't really need the one hour lecture on BYU history and culture. But at least I got to show off that I knew more of BYU's past presidents than any of the other people in the room, outside of the presenter). Anyway, after the insurance portion was over, I ruthlessly abandoned Dan to stay for the talk on death and dismemberment, life insurance, and other fine details about the benefits passage. I walked in the door to an unfamiliar buzzing sound. Following it to its source, I found Andrew sitting on the counter, with my mom cutting his hair. Granted, Andrew definitely needed the haircut, but I hadn't expected to find this! Then, a few days later, when my mom was watching Andrew while I was on a conference call with my dissertation writing group (they were giving me feedback on one of my chapters, so it was kind of important that I not be distracted by Mr. Andrew), she decided she needed to spike his hair.

I wonder what she'll decide to do next time we leave Andrew alone with her: dye it blue? (I should not that I make this comment tongue in cheek; we're actually quite grateful for my mom's help with Andrew, and we don't *think* she's really trying to tell us anything, other than perhaps the lengths she's being driven to keep Andrew occupied.)

Saturday night, my mom and I had the privilege to attend the women's broadcast in the Tabernacle. It really is a tremendous experience to see all those thousands of women of faith--it makes it easier, somehow, to focus on the messages of the speakers and to feel the spirit. Unfortunately, the evening didn't start off very auspiciously. Jared met us at a Smith's in South Jordan to pick up Brielle and Joshua (both of whom had slept pretty much the entire drive up, Joshua's insistence that he wasn't tired notwithstanding); we also met my mom's sister Tera there as well. I don't think any of us anticipated the bad combination of bad weather and bad traffic that confronted us. Despite the fact that we should have had plenty of time to get to downtown Salt Lake, we were later getting in than we'd planned. Then, we ran into construction and horrible traffic congestion--and no wonder! The Barnum and Bailey circus was also in town. Between the thousands converging on downtown for that, and the thousands for the women's conference, there were entirely too many cars on the streets. Tera commented ironically that apparently the Salt Lake City mayor, Rocky Anderson, had better things to do than to send a few policemen downtown to help with traffic. Meanwhile, the weather alternated rain and snowy sleet. My mom dropped Tera and I off while she tried to get into a parking lot (apparently, the only open entrance was on the street we'd already passed). We hurried over to the center only to find that we weren't the only ones in this boat: there were hundreds (maybe thousands) of women standing in the drizzle in various lines waiting patiently to get in. I will say this: given the lateness of the hour and the imminent start of the broadcast, most of the people were surprisingly gracious about their position. We did overhear one woman tell one of the ushers, "but I have a ticket!" (Apparently, she wanted to circumvent the line). The usher replied, with no little irony in his voice, "So does everyone else." At any rate, my mom managed to find us right before we got in the building, and we did find seats (nor were we the last in, not by a long shot), and, even though we missed part of the first speaker, we still were able to enjoy the bulk of the meeting.

Having said at the outset of this blog that there wasn't much to mark our week, I have (as usual) ended up with a surprising amount of things to say. A few more brief comments on Andrew's linguistic progress, and we will close this blog for yet another week. (Unless I'm inspired by a mid-week epiphany. Which I probably won't be). Andrew has finally graduated from "quay quay" to actually saying "quail," a good move in terms of his overall linguistic progress, but a change I'm rather sad to see. He's also proving to be a little confused about prepositions. After listening to a confusing phrase for a couple of days--"pick down"--I finally realized that what Andrew actually wanted was to be picked up! Andrew has also apparently been doing his best to tease his grandparents (not to mention his parents), by standing on chairs and announcing triumphantly, "Sit down! Sit down!" (Which, of course, is what he always gets told when he stands on chairs). Andrew has also been trying to "help" grandma in the garden--he came in today and announced "I pick mato" and "puh-kin" (code: tomatoes and pumpkins). He had, apparently, picked mostly green and rotten tomatoes, but he was no less pleased with himself for that. If only he wouldn't keep trying to "pick" the tomatoes out of the buckets once they are brought into the house!

One-and-twenty

When I was one-and-twenty
I heard a wise man say,
'Give crowns and pounds and guineas
But not your heart away;
Give pearls away and rubies
But keep your fancy free.'
But I was one-and-twenty,
No use to talk to me.

When I was one-and-twenty
I heard him say again,
'The heart out of the bosom
Was never given in vain;
'Tis paid with sighs a plenty
And sold for endless rue.'
And I am two-and-twenty,
And oh, 'tis true, 'tis true.
(From A. E. Housman's "A Shropshire Lad")

With apologies to A. E. Housman for a poem taken quite out of context, tomorrow marks Andrew's twenty-first birthday (months, that is, not years). And like most bright boys of his age, he's quite prone to throwing his heart after something with singular tenacity. Most recently, his attachments (besides the perennial one to mama) are to "quay quay" (quail), his cousins Jake and Jacob (ask me how many time's I've heard "Jako' ha'" or "Jaka' ma'"--Jacob's house/Jacob's mom in the last week), and, as of tonight, his new fisher price bike that we gave him for his birthday (three months early).

Dan started his new job at BYU on Monday, and it seems as though it will suit him well--he's interested in the project he's working on, and he says that there's a lot less drama than in his previous lab. (Most of his coworkers are industrious international students, which may have something to do with it). And having Dan around also means that there's someone else to share the parenting duties, like bedtime, which have become somewhat onerous of late (Andrew has been fighting his bedtime with a vengeance). Tuesday night, Dan got to put Andrew to bed for the first time since we left State College in July. Andrew, of course, put up a fight and cried piteously--first for his mama, as was to be expected, then "quay quay," and then for grandma. We were pretty amused that quail was his second resort, and that Daddy never even cracked the list.

Andrew's language skills have also improved with a vengeance this week--he's finally figured out how to string more than one word together to make some sense. Of course, much of what he says are phrases that he's heard, but still, we consider this progress. We realized this early this week, on a rather memorable trip to Target. While we were wandering around the store, Andrew informed me that he was pooping. Since he will occasionally say this even when he's not, it didn't initially faze me. Of course, it didn't take long for me to figure out that he was telling the truth, so I made my way slowly toward the front of the store. We stopped by the shoe section briefly, and while I was looking at shoes, Andrew took his own shoes off. (He seems to think that looking at shoes automatically means that he will try on shoes--thus, the need to remove his shoes). I said, "Andrew, don't take your shoes off," and was floored when he responded: "ah take my shoes off." Indeed, he had. We proceeded to the front of the store, where I left him with his grandma while I ran out to the car to get his diaper bag. However, I knew I was in trouble when I picked him up out of the cart and there was poop outside both his shirt and his pants. I ran him to the bathroom where I attempted to deal with the catastrophe (and yes, we *did* clean off the cart as well). Unfortunately, I only had spare pants in the bag (the shirt I usually carry around was inexplicably missing), so my mom had to go buy him another shirt off the clearance rack. Between the huge blow-out and the sentence, this won't be a trip that we forget soon. What can I say? Target brings out the best in Andrew.

Thursday evening I went with my mom and one of her friends to BYU's Homecoming Spectacular (the BYU Ballroom Dance Company and the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, among others, were performing). I enjoyed it, but was glad that Dan (who persists in calling this the "Craptacular") wasn't there--I think it would have exhausted his cheesiness tolerance.

Friday afternoon Dan took off work an hour or so early so that we could drive down to Cedar City, where his parents and sister had organized a dinner in honor of his finally finishing his degree. We almost made our proposed arrival time--we were slowed down by construction and (of course) a poopy diaper. Dinner was wonderful (eating is a family activity at the Eves' house), and we topped it off with a Dairy Queen ice cream cake. Mostly we spent the weekend hanging out and eating--Andrew had a wonderful time chasing after his cousins, and we enjoyed ourselves too.

Andrew showed off his dancing skills this week, too. One night, after Dan came home, Andrew insisted that he and grandma Patti dance with him. (He refuses to dance unless everyone in the room dances with him). He also insisted that everyone remove their shoes and socks, although he had a hard time removing my mom's compression stockings! (No matter how hard he pulled, they just wouldn't come). But he showed off his skills for his Poppy, when Poppy put on some nice eighties music (apparently this unleashed his inner dancer).

All in all, this has been a good--if uneventful--week. But really, I think that's the way I prefer them.

One Year and Counting

With this post, we reach our official one-year mark as bloggers. (Well, actually our first post was Sunday, September 17, 2006, but we figure this is close enough). We would also like to take this moment to congratulate those faithful readers (all two or so) who have been with us from the beginning . . .

Anyway. We actually have bigger news to report this week: Dan is back with our family! Andrew no longer has to answer the question, "Where's Daddy?" by pointing at the photo on the wall--he can point to the real thing!

How did such a momentous feat occur? you ask. Well, we'll tell you. Wednesday morning my mom drove me (and Andrew) to the Salt Lake airport and then drove away with Andrew, who (according to my mom) persisted in saying, "mama mama mama" all the way back to Provo. Despite his initial perturbation at being abandoned by his mother, we think his mother had a harder time with their separation than he did. He certainly looked more bemused than excited when I appeared again.

That same morning (well, early afternoon), Dan drove out of State College and arrived in Columbus, OH, just in time to pick me up. We spent that night in Columbus, and the next day drove through Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, and most of Missouri. We'll spare you the details of the drive. We brought along an audio book of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, read by the inimicable Stephen Fry, which helped us beguile most of the drive (and in fact, we were on the last CD of the 20 CD book when we arrived in Provo). That was possibly the most exciting thing about the drive itself, which was certainly--and luckily--unremarkable (my premonitions of our imminent death notwithstanding).

Friday, we continued our drive, passing through the entire length of Kansas (who knew the state was so big? The eastern parts of the state were rather pretty, but the last hour or two was pretty monotonous), and halfway through Colorado, coming to roost on the western edge of Denver. We went to a fabulous local Italian place that night, called Abrusci's. We had to wait for a while to be seated, but it was worth the wait, from the fresh bread to the delicious entrees. We ordered bruscetta as an appetizer, and although I've never had bruscetta with pine nuts and capers before, it was quite tasty. Dan ordered shrimp scampi on linguini and I ordered a penne gorgonzola--an unusual combination of chicken, broccoli, red grapes, slivered almonds, penne pasta and a gorgonzola cream sauce, but surprisingly good. We could go on, but probably shouldn't. Needless to say, dinner was probably the highlight of that day.

Saturday, we left Denver about 6 a.m. and arrived in Provo about 3. We were excited to see Andrew, but he wasn't quite sure what to do with us. I think my parents were more excited to have us back than Andrew was--if only because they no longer had to take care of him. (My dad reports that Andrew is a "goober.") Apparently Andrew now knows how to fake puke into the garbage can, and he delights in chasing quail ("quay quay") around the backyard. He also said his first (we think) sort-of sentence this week: when we called one night to talk to my parents and to Andrew, Andrew insisted on holding the phone by himself, saying determinedly: "I hol."

I have to say, it's been quite nice to have Dan back with me--he got to do daddy duty with Andrew in nursery this morning, so, for the first time in nearly two months, I got to go to all of my meetings in church today. And of course, I brought my camera with me for our trip and then failed to take any pictures, so you'll have to use your imagination to picture all the charming vistas we drove past. Tonight, we're having a family dinner with all of the local cousins: Joshua, Brielle, Jacob, Emi, and Enoch. Andrew will, I'm sure, be thrilled when he discovers all of this. The evening promises to be fun and chaotic, and we'll report on it in our next post. Till then, be well and happy!

reunions--of a sort

It’s amazing how amnesia always seems to strike when I sit down to write this blog—during the week, I make constant mental notes to myself about funny little anecdotes to include, and by Sunday evening they have all vanished.

Possibly the most interesting event of the week occurred at its beginning: Monday morning, my mom and I decided to take advantage of the labor day sales by going to Dillards to look at their clearance kids clothes. We had just walked in the door when my mom asked, “Hey, isn’t that the Eves?” My first thought was, It can’t be. Why would they be in Provo? (Especially since we had just seen them on Saturday). But, as it happens, it was. Robert had promised Trisha that he would take her shopping on Labor Day as part of their 35th anniversary celebration. Their options were Provo or Las Vegas, and since the stores here would open a full hour sooner, given the time change between Utah and Nevada, they opted to come north. We had a nice chat and agreed to meet up for lunch, after our respective shopping trips. We found some nice Stride Rite children’s sandals (for next summer) on super clearance, and apparently Trisha found some bargains as well . . . We had lunch at Demae, a Japanese restaurant owned by some friends of my parents (and pretty much the only restaurant my parents willingly patronize). We enjoyed some fabulous food, Poppy got to feed Andrew (before Andrew turned too squirmy), and I think everyone enjoyed the meeting. Andrew and I were supposed to go to a barbeque that evening at my friend Karin’s house, but since Andrew’s nose had been dripping like a sieve all day, I assumed he was coming down with a cold, and it wasn’t fair to spread that to all the other little kids who would be at the shindig.

As it turns out, I was right. Not only did Andrew come down with a cold, but he generously shared it with me, which would explain why not much happened mid-week: we didn’t really go anywhere (except maybe to the grocery store and Costco).

Friday was a day of celebration for me: I finally finished the Instructor’s Manual that has occupied most of my free time for the last seven or eight weeks. Now I can enjoy my brief break, drive cross country with Dan, and then resume work on my dissertation.

Saturday morning we met up with a large family group at an IHOP in Salt Lake City. My mom and her three closest (geographically, that is) sisters have a tradition where they periodically meet up for breakfast. This time, my mom invited all her children that are in Utah, and their respective children. This meant that she had three of her four children with her (plus Jeni’s husband Samuel, and Jared’s wife Mitcee), and six of her eight grandchildren, along with her three sisters—so it was a pretty wild bunch. My aunt Dahnelle was pretty funny, as she clearly enjoyed playing with the kids who were there, but insisted that she doesn’t want grandkids. (She said she offended my cousin, her daughter, by telling her to let her know at least six months before they planned on getting pregnant so she could find a new job, sell her house, and leave the state). She explained that she would be emotionally vested in her own grandkids, but with other people’s grandkids she doesn’t care, so she can enjoy them.

Saturday evening I ditched Andrew with my long-suffering mom (who has four days of Andrew to look forward to at the end of this week, poor woman) and went to see Hairspray with my friend Karin and her mom. We’d agreed to meet at the Cinemark in American Fork (I thought), as it was a compromise between my home in Provo and hers in Alpine. (Incidentally, it strikes me as funny that both of us are graduate-educated women--I have a Master’s in English and am ABD in a PhD program, she is a Physician Assistant—and both our husband’s have just completed graduate degrees, and yet both of us have moved in with our parents!). Karin had given me some instructions over the phone on how to find the theater, but the directions were confusing to me, so I just checked the address for the theater with the showtime we’d agreed on and went there. We were supposed to meet at 3:30, as the movie started at 3:45. By 3:45, they hadn’t showed up, and I was beginning to think I had the wrong theater. I tried to call, but first the public phone ate my quarters, and, once I got a refund from the ticket clerk and tried again, no one was home. I was just about to give up and head home when I spotted them—they had actually gone to a different theater, but it turns out that Hairspray wasn’t even showing there, so they hoped that I’d shown up at the right theater. We missed the previews and ads and a few minutes of opening credits, but we thoroughly enjoyed the rest of the movie. I’m not sure I can recommend this to squeamish guys (read: most of my male acquaintances who can’t stomach musicals), but the movie was really quite wonderful: upbeat, clean, with a good message and a nice romantic element. The basic message seemed to be about accepting people for who they are—not for their skin color or their body size. More importantly, all the actors just seemed like they were having fun in the movie, which meant that it was hard for the audience not to enjoy their clear exuberance as well.

That pretty much sums up our week. For the third week in a row, I missed most of at least one of my meetings because I was in nursery with Andrew. (He did okay during Sunday school, but as they were saying the prayer in Relief Society to open the meeting, I could hear someone in nursery crying as if their heart would break. Of course, it was Andrew, so as soon as the prayer was over I rushed in to rescue my poor fatherless boy. Thank goodness Dan will be here next week!)

I asked Dan if there was anything to report from his end, but he says not really. Aside from the observation that the Young Men’s president (who is also a member from State College assigned to the Huntingdon branch) made: after Dan leaves, he will be the *only* returned missionary in the branch.

We hope this week finds you happy and well and enjoying your family. Our six week separation has really made us appreciate how blessed we are when we’re together! (Sorry if that’s cheesy: it also happens to be true).

Confessions of a popsicle dropper

This week has been a pretty quiet one, on both sides of the U.S. Dan continues to work away at lab (and with the youth in Huntington), and we’re both looking forward to actually living under the same roof again. (Only ten more days!) I’m still plugging away on the Instructor’s Manual for my advisor’s textbook, which we’re hoping I’ll actually finish before I go to pick up Dan.

To liven up an otherwise mundane week, we decided on a last-minute trip down to Cedar City to see the Eves family. We drove down Friday morning, arriving scant minutes before Trisha returned from work (I was still cleaning crumbs off Andrew when she walked up). We hung out for a while at their house, waiting for the excitement to start (i.e. for Robert to arrive home from work and for the Wells cousins to arrive). Trisha ditched us to go get her toenails done (not that we blame her—they did look rather fabulous—and she’d set up her appointment before we made our plans), so Andrew and I went to the community pool behind the Eves’ home and went swimming, which Andrew thoroughly enjoyed. (I had a hard time persuading him to get out of the pool—which he, with unintended irony, insists on calling “poo”).


Sarah and her brood arrived around five-thirty, and we enjoyed a wonderful dinner (corn on the cob, ribs, hot dogs, fresh tomatoes and mozzarella cheese, etc.). Of course, good food is pretty much guaranteed at any Eves family get together. After the kids went to bed, some of us played cards, some of us (me and Sarah) had our toenails painted (Sarah was inspired by Trisha), and most of us enjoyed the fruits of a DQ run. There was some debate prior to sending Matt and Laurie out for the goods whether or not we should get something for Jake, who was downstairs watching television (or possibly sleeping). Sarah ultimately decided he didn’t need anything with extra liquid. The next morning, when a bleary-eyed Jake finally made it up the stairs, he demanded plaintively, “Hey, how come you went to Dairy Queen last night and didn’t get my anything?”



That morning the men all deserted to play golf in the annual family tournament. (I heard tell that Aaron’s team won, but I’m not positive about that). We, meanwhile, fed the kids breakfast and tried to keep them entertained while we waited for the men to return. They were supposed to be back at 10:30 (but of course, since they stopped for dinner at Denny’s after golf, they weren’t on time) so that Sarah, Trisha and I could go to a baby shower for Dan’s cousin Tony’s wife, Jaye. As soon as Aaron (the advance vanguard) walked in the house, we were out. The shower was a lot of fun—good food, and the games weren’t too annoying. (I suppose I can say that since I won two of the four! Of course, since one of the games involved coming up with as many boys names as possible out of Jaye and Tony’s combined names, there really wasn’t any question about the outcome. Not for nothing did I play boggle nearly every night with my roommates my second year at Penn State). Unfortunately, we had to leave early, as Sarah was already late for a family reunion that afternoon. Andrew and I returned to Provo that afternoon, somewhat tired in body but refreshed in spirit by our time with family. Andrew’s been chirping “Jake” “Kay-kay” (Katie) at random intervals all afternoon today.


Today has been a pretty ordinary Sunday: Andrew, by dint of some crocodile tears, kept me in nursery for most of Sunday School and Relief Society (whenever I tried to sneak out, it took him approximately five minutes to notice I’d gone, and then some poor nursery leader had to come find me. I suppose after last week’s puke fest they didn’t want to take any chances with letting him cry. I can’t say I blame them).

This last tidbit is a video of Andrew eating his popsicle--the video is a little long (close to a minute), but count how many times Andrew drops his popsicle! (You can recognize him as the short squatty one in a diaper who can't seem to hold onto his popsicle).