A bum scootin' boogie

So, Evelyn has been a little slow on the whole concept of moving. I don't think she's going to crawl anytime soon--she avoids being on her stomach like the plague and rarely lasts more than thirty seconds before rolling over. However, she has developed her own unique mode of transportation--she rocks on her bum until she has scooted herself close enough to whatever she wants to reach it. Yesterday, I was playing a game with Andrew and had to move her back (a good two feet) three different times because she kept rocking forward trying to get the game pieces. This video isn't the best illustration of her rocking scoot, but it will give you an idea.

Angels among Us

Our Priesthood/Relief Society lesson today was taken from Elder Jeffrey R. Holland's last conference talk, "The Ministry of Angels." As I listened to the lesson, I was more than ever confirmed in the belief that I mentioned in last week's post, that obedience to our covenants can enlist the Lord's aid in our protection and in protection of those we love. Sometimes it frightens me to think of how fragile life is, particularly when I think of my children. (I know I probably should have more faith, but the fact remains that sometimes I do get scared and discouraged). There are so many things that could happen to them, things that I have no power to control: illness, accident, the maliciousness of strangers. But I was heartened today, listening to the teacher and to the comments of those around me. It is clear that the Lord does not leave us alone, no matter how difficult our trials. (Perhaps its during those difficult trials that he is even more present with us). And that it is frequently through these angels--seen and unseen--that he gives us his comfort and protection. I don't think that this means that we are guaranteed that nothing difficult will happen to us if we follow God. What I think it means is that we are guaranteed is that, when things are hard (and they will be), God will send others to support us and lend us strength when we no longer have enough. Whatever form these angels take (friends, family, strangers, spiritual beings--both familiar and unfamiliar), I am grateful for their presence in our lives.

This may seem a somewhat somber note to start our post out with, but I find myself in a reflective spirit tonight. I certainly don't have much to say about this past week, having already exceeded my usual quota of posts for the week. I can (and will, probably) post about what happened yesterday, but before doing so I want to post a bit about some things I've been thinking about lately. Those of you who aren't interested in my introspection can skip to the end where you'll find more pictures of the kids. (A good friend of mine and former roommate once told me that sometimes when I talk I'm interested in communicating--but sometimes I just want to hear myself think. She learned how to ignore me whenever I was doing the latter. You can use your judgment as to which of these modes this post falls under.)

So, Dan has this job offer at SUU, and it seems highly probable that we'll take it. Dan has been sending out feelers about loan possibilities, and we've both looked online at real estate in the area. (It seems getting a real job means finally being able to afford a real house.) All of which makes the proposed move seem slightly more real, but not, for all that, any easier to contemplate (for me, at least). I should probably explain. I'm thrilled for Dan that he's found a university that appreciates him for the great worker and teacher that he is. And I'm happy that he's found an opportunity close to his family and an ideal balance of teaching and research. But in all of this, I find I'm not entirely certain what my place is. I'm the kind of person who sometimes finds change difficult, even good change. And in this particular case, there's not only the move to a new environment (which, on the whole, I think will be good for our family), there's a change in my role. I realized that most of my adult life has been at least somewhat defined by my position in academia. When I haven't been a student (with the exception of my eighteen months as a missionary), I've been a teacher. I hadn't realized how much of my identity is tied up with this sort of intellectual position until I was faced with not having it anymore. (I realize that chances are good that eventually I'll come back to teaching; I'm just talking about the immediately foreseeable future). I think that being home full time with my kids will be good for all of us, but it will certainly be an adjustment for me. I'll have to find new (and hopefully better!) ways of measuring my self-worth. I know I'm not the first to go through an identity crisis of sorts with a shift in roles (from student to employee, from employee to full-time mother, from full-time mother to employee again when the kids are older--there are endless variations on this theme). And I know that this is, for now, where I should be. But knowing all this with my head does not necessarily make the transition any easier! But I'm working on it.

Enough of the self-assessment. For those of you who have been dying to know what we did this weekend, I'll keep you in suspense no longer (although I apologize if it still seems like this post is about me--an inevitable evil since you get all this through my perspective, but also because yesterday my schedule was the busiest one). I got up early (for me) yesterday morning to go to the temple with one of the girls I visit teach (her idea, not mine, unfortunately--I wish I could claim it was mine!). It was a wonderful way to start the day, and the first time I've been to the temple twice in two weeks in more time than I care to admit. It was also (if I can be permitted a brief return to the topic above) good for me mentally and spiritually: I came away with the strong sense that, although I don't know exactly what the future holds for me, I can trust the Lord. He's never let me down so far, and I can trust him to do the same for me in the future.

I came home to quickly change and get Evelyn ready for her swim lesson. Dan and Andrew had just finished with Andrew's lesson when we arrived at the pool. I gather that Andrew enjoyed his lesson; Evelyn, poor baby, did not. The instructors had us blow in the babies' faces (this makes them draw in their breath) and then dunk them in the water. I suppose the point of this is to help the kids get used to holding their breath underwater--all I know is that Evelyn hated it. She screamed on and off for the rest of the lesson and wouldn't let me hold her out away from my body. Maybe next week will go better.

We came home from the pool and I took a quick shower, fed Evelyn, and then Dan and I switched kids. I took Andrew with me for a celebratory lunch with my friend Karin (our birthdays fall two weeks apart) at Red Robin, and Dan put Evelyn down for a nap. Karin and I had a good time catching up--she's facing a similar identity crisis to mine, it turns out; she's probably going to quit her part-time job as a Physician Assistant as soon as her husband can find full time employment (he's been working several part time jobs). Our sons (Andrew is about 8 months younger than Ezra) had fun giggling with each other across the table and, finally, resorting to giggling under the table. I figured that under the table was preferable to Andrew's earlier attempt to climb over the back of the bench (I don't think the couple behind us liked us very much), so I let him do it.

While I was out playing, Dan was home multi-tasking. While watching Veronica Mars (for like the fourth time), he finished our 2008 taxes. I have to say, I'm impressed.

After Andrew went down for a nap, Dan took our car down to get it inspected. This took an unexpectedly long time--both kids were up when he got back (Evelyn for the second time) three hours later. There followed the usual rites of dinner, bath, and bedtime, and then I headed out to go shopping with my sister, who was in desperate need of a new pair of jeans that fit. Of course, in the first store we tried, she tried on perhaps eight or nine pair to no avail; and I (who wasn't necessarily looking) tried on two pair and actually bought one. She did finally succeed, much to our mutual relief. We had a lot of fun, though, giggling in the dressing rooms over certain hideous combinations more than was seemly.

And finally, as a reward for your patience in slogging through this overly long post, some pictures from today. We didn't get Andrew in his Sunday clothes (he was napping when these pictures were taken), so you'll have to settle for his pajamas. I love Evelyn's green dress, which was a hand-me-down from her cousin Emi. Isn't she beautiful? (As we were arriving to church today, Brother Tippetts met us in the parking lot and asked, "Who's the most beautiful girl in church today?" Meaning, by implication, Evelyn--although the Korean foreign exchange student staying with them promptly answered, "Me, right?")

Are we raising a nudist?

I couldn't resist posting this funny observation Andrew made this morning on our way home from breakfast at IHOP with Poppy (Thanks Poppy!).

Andrew said, "I'm growing bigger and bigger. Soon I'm going to be as big as a llama." (We'd just driven past some and commented on how the baby llama was growing.) "Then I'll be too big for my shoes. And too big for these clothes. And when I'm all done growing, I'll be too big to wear any clothes!"

Tag . . . and apparently I'm it!

My friend Megan (one of the many wonderful Megan's I know!) tagged me, and, since I have nothing better to do (ha ha) I thought I'd play along . . .

Where we met: I'm pretty sure the first time we met was in Erin Lindsay's dorm room at Penn State, where a bunch of us had congregated to watch Willow, of all things.

How long we dated before we got hitched: almost a year and a half.

How long have we been married: Five and a half years.

What's my favorite feature about him: He has nice hair and eyes, and a great smile (when he's not smiling for cameras, that is!). He has nice lips, too, but that might be TMI for some of you . . .

What's my favorite quality about him: I've always loved his kind heart and generosity . . . he has depths of caring that still surprise me (especially for those few who are closest to him). And he takes his responsibilities quite seriously, as a husband, father, brother, employee, etc.

What's his nickname for me: umm . . .? He used to call me Roho when we were dating . . .

His favorite color: Blue

His favorite food: Fried chicken and pancakes. But biscuits and gravy will do in a pinch.

His favorite sport: Frisbee. (But he's usually happy to get injured playing basketball at the ward, if there's a game going on).

Who said the L word first: Dan did. (Truth be told, he freaked me out a little when he said that because we'd only been dating like two weeks).

First kiss when and where: In the living room of my apartment. March 1, 2002.

Favorite couple thing to do: Watch Food Network Challenge (especially cakes). We don't get out much. If we didn't have little kids, we'd probably like going to movies . . . (There are other things, but you probably don't want to know them).

How many kids:1 boy, 1 girl.

His hidden talent: cooking.

His age: 31.

His favorite music: classic rock. (Although his ipod playlist is pretty electic--and he loves podcasts, although those aren't really musical . . .)

What I admire most about him: How imperturbable and patient he is most of the time--he's so willing to go with the flow. And he puts up with me, which says a lot!

His favorite pastimes: Dan is a huge movie buff and audiophile. He loves listening to books on tape (well, cd or ipod, actually). Cooking. Spending time with his family. Playing games (especially cards). Frisbee football.

Will he read this: Not willingly. (The little he read over my shoulder while I was writing this made him cringe with embarassment.)


I tag: Sarah, Megan Collins, Ronni, Nisa, Jocelin, Kristin (although Scott could post about Kristin, if you'd prefer!)

Spangulas and other revelations

So, yesterday afternoon in an attempt to direct my son's effusive energies in a single direction, we made rice krispie treats. Then I remembered that Dan despises marshmallows, but admitted he would eat said treats if they had peanut butter in them. Peanut butter treats go much better with chocolate, and so we ended up with peanut butter rice krispie treats. And of course, Andrew got to lick off the "spangula" (spatula, in non-Andrew speak). Doesn't he look lovely? And then, of course, a short video. (I asked Andrew what he was holding--hoping to catch "spangula" on tape. Imagine my chagrin after posting this initially and having Dan point out to me that Andrew is actually saying the word correctly. But he DID call it a spangula to start with!)

Andrew wanted his picture taken with Evelyn, but when he got too close to her, she tried to grab his hair, which he didn't like. (But which seems only fair, since the other day we caught him "picking" her hair). Andrew's little sophistries kill me sometimes. I was trying to feed Evelyn some cereal and she didn't particularly want to eat it, so I kept repeating, "Open up, Evelyn. Say ah!" Andrew, who was supposed to be eating his own lunch, turned around and repeated what I said. Finally, exasperated, I said, "Andrew, stop talking to your sister and eat your lunch!" To which my little sophist said, "I'm not talking to her. I'm cheering for her."

It's all cool

This is a video we took of Andrew a week or so ago (you'll notice the sweater from previous posts). In case you can't quite follow what he's saying, here's a transcript: "Giraffes are cool. Zebras are cool. If you have a dolly like mine, that's cool. (Pause). Giraffes are cool. Zebras are cool. My dolly's cool. They're all cool." Funny boy.

E velyn waving

Boldog Szulinapom!

(For those of you whose Hungarian is a bit rusty, that means "Happy Birthday to Me!")

Although blogging is inherently a bit narcissistic (more than a bit, actually), and birthdays are the perfect excuse to indulge in a bit of narcissism, I'd rather spend the bulk of this post talking about the people who mean the most to me: my family. (Cue sentimental music here.) I was lucky enough to spend some time (both this past week and weekend) with some pretty terrific people.

However, before I go on, I have some unfinished business to take care of: pictures of Andrew in multi-faceted moods from last Sunday. (Those of you who know me well will notice that Andrew is wearing *my* signature colors. You'd never be able to guess who does the shopping around here.)



Speaking of shopping, this week was a great opportunity to indulge in some. My mom and I took Wednesday evening off (although, with our big staff meeting at 7 a.m. Thursday morning I really should probably have been working) and hit both of the Gymborees in town in a quest to spend our "Gymbucks." (Those of you who know what these are will understand. Those of you who don't know what they are probably don't want to). I even managed to save some for Sarah to spend on Saturday. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Thursday was a busy day--for me, the day started at 4:30, when Evelyn woke up. (This after going to sleep about one, because my mind was racing with all the things that needed to be done). Since she had wet her pajamas and had to be changed, she decided that it was evidently morning. It took me the next 40 minutes to persuade her that it wasn't really morning--at that point, there wasn't really any point in my going back to bed. We tried to prepare a light breakfast for our staff meeting, but I was worried we didn't have enough, so I was out the door at 5:45, scraping off the car and then heading to the grocery store for some bananas and bread. I'd forgotten how bitterly cold it can get in winter in the predawn hours. (Not, apparently, as cold as it's been in Chicago these last few days, but cold enough). Our staff meeting went well, despite the early hour. I taught that afternoon and then decided my brain had had enough for one day and went home early to play with my kids instead.

Dan and I went to the temple that evening, despite exhaustion on both our parts--and the slight sacrifice proved to be well worth it. I think we both came away with more energy and clearer insights into some things that we should currently be working on.

Saturday, though, was our truly busy day. After Andrew's swim lessons ended in the fall, we decided to enroll him in the winter session because he enjoyed them so much. We also signed Evelyn up, but my memory now is hazy enough that I can't quite remember why that seemed like a good idea at the time. At any rate, Saturday was the first day of swim lessons. Andrew was so excited that he just ran up and down the room for twenty minutes before we left. Evelyn, having no idea what was in store for her, was just her usual placid self. And me, well, I got involved in a book, lost track of time, and nearly caused the lot of us to be late (a fact that Dan didn't exactly appreciate!).

We tried to get some pictures of Andrew, but none of them turned out. We did get a little video (see below). Initially, it seemed as though the longed-for swim lesson was doomed for disappointment: Andrew refused to get in the water with the rest of his little class. For the first couple of minutes, he just sat on the steps and watched the other students. Then he decided the water was okay, so he headed into the shallow end, intent on his own business. One of his teachers had to head him off and literally herd him back to class. For the next five or ten minutes, he was her sole priority, while the other teacher instructed the more obedient (less adventurous?) children. Finally, he agreed to cooperate with the rest of the class and seemed to really enjoy it.

As for Evelyn? She seemed to enjoy splashing in the water and she definitely enjoyed the face time with her mom. But I think on the whole she was rather indifferent. She makes a cute little swimmer, though, with her little swimsuit and CRTs (charging rhino thighs, for those unfamiliar with the term).

When swim lessons were over, we herded the kids back into the car and headed up to Salt Lake. (This was really a much bigger ordeal than this simple sentence makes it out to be. Have you ever tried to change a tired, wet, hungry baby in a locker room and then tried to find some where to put her while you got dressed yourself? Needless to say it wasn't easy and it involved a lot of crying. Meanwhile, it was all Dan could do to keep Andrew relatively stationary).

Not surprisingly, Evelyn slept most of the way up to Salt Lake. Andrew nodded off five minutes before our arrival, so I offered to sit in the car with him for a while until he woke up. We went inside to find that Sarah and her family had anticipated our arrival: the front room was festooned with balloons and a birthday banner and Sarah had made a yummy lunch of macaroni and cheese and chocolate raspberry cupcakes. (Never mind that I'm not a berry fan--anything with that much chocolate has to be good.)

Sarah couldn't resist using the netting from one of my presents as a bow for Evelyn. They also found some lovely plastic glasses for her to wear. She certainly looks stylish, doesn't she?

After lunch, we loaded all the kids up in the car again for a trip to the zoo. It was a little cold, but all in all a great day to go--because of the cold, the zoo was relatively empty, so the kids could run around without disturbing anyone but their parents.


Of course, the best feature of the zoo is the carousel. Even Evelyn got to ride this time, although I'm not sure she was very impressed by it. (The blurry patch below is Evelyn--Poppy took a better picture, but I liked this one for the sense of motion it conveys).




After the zoo we had an early dinner at Red Robin (or "Little Red Robin," as Andrew has been calling it all week). Then Robert took Sarah and I to the mall for a little shopping while Bubby, Dan, and Aaron manned the forts at home. By the time we did get home, both of our kids had been asleep for a while in the car and were more than ready for their beds.

Today has been nice, if quiet. I got to sleep in (!) and Dan made breakfast for me. We have the late block of church, which means Andrew is always a bit of a handful, but Evelyn was a nice antidote. I taught the lesson in Relief Society today (on my birthday, no less!) and, as usual, probably got more out of the lesson than anyone there. We talked about Elijah and the sealing power of the priesthood, and I realized, as the lesson was ending, that although I cannot always do the things I wish I could do to protect my children (I wish I could make sure that life never hurts them, I wish I could make sure that they will always want to do the right thing--realizing, even as I wish this, that I probably wouldn't do it even if I could, because that restriction on their agency would ultimately be damning)--but I realized that the one thing I *can* do is honor my covenants with God, trusting to the binding power of the sealing ordinance that binds us together as a family to protect my children where I cannot. I believe there is a real power in that binding, and I am profoundly grateful for it.


Evelyn discovered a new trick in the last couple of days: waving. If you watch this little video to the end, you'll see her flopping her arm in the air. At first I thought this was just accidental, but if you wave at her, this is exactly what you'll get in response. (Blogger isn't cooperating with this video just now, so we'll try to post it another time.)

In other news

Dan got an unexpected (but by no means unpleasant!) phone call on Monday telling him that the job at SUU was his, if he wants it. We haven't accepted yet, but chances are looking pretty good that we will. We feel particularly blessed, in this economic climate where many schools are closing open positions, to have a job offer at all, much less one that seems so ideal for Dan and his temperament.

More Andrew

We had a lovely dinner with Bubby and Poppy tonight at Ottavios (a local Italian restaurant). Andrew wasn't quite so lovely, but that still couldn't quite spoil good food, nice ambiance, and an accordian player who could play the Star Trek theme, "All I Ask of You" (from Phantom of the Opera), "Bibbity-Bobbity-Boo" (from Cinderella), Johnny Cash, and Led Zeppelin's "Stairway to Heaven." Who knew the accordian could be so versatile?

On the way to dinner, Andrew told us, "When I get bigger, I'm going to go to crazy. . . . And then I'm going to go to Outer Space." (Hmm. Who knew crazy was a destination? I guess I've told him one too many times, when he asks for the zillionth time where we're going, that we're going "crazy.")

Andrew updates

Luckily, when we're not busy laughing at despair.com, Andrew keeps us pretty well entertained.

Today, he told my mom: "You're my only grandma. That's why I need to build my rescue train on you." (Hmm. Maybe we shouldn't let him watch so much Diego, Animal rescuer extraordinaire).

Tonight, as we were getting the kids ready for bed, we gave Evelyn some infant motrin because she has a bit of an ear infection and she seemed uncomfortable. Andrew insisted that he was sick, that he had a cold and needed medicine too. So we said, "Oh, that's too bad. I guess you won't be able to go to your swimming lessons this weekend. Or go to the zoo. Or visit with Bubby and Poppy" (I know, we're evil parents. Good thing his sense of time is pretty skewed, or he'd know the weekend was too far away for a cold now to necessarily be a threat then).

Andrew thought for a minute, and then said, "I think I'm feeling a little bit better."

A Bitter-sweet Valentines

I was looking for something completely different and came across this hilarious valentine's day gift: candy hearts for the disenchanted, from despair.com: http://despair.com/bittersweets.html#.

Whether you like it or not (or, Weather: You like it, or not)

I wonder if everyone else is as sick of the winter snow storms as we are. I can't remember having so many big storms so close together in some time. Usually, it seems like we get a couple of big storms each winter, but with a couple of weeks between them--at least enough for most of the snow to melt. Not so this year.

Andrew, of course, loves the snow. He loves to play in it, he loves to "help" shovel it, he loves everything about it (except, possibly, the cold--but even that's still open to question). On Wednesday, we finally did the only sensible thing we could do with all that snow: we went out and played in it. Sort of. Poor Evelyn just got strapped into the stroller and watched from a safe vantage point on the sidewalk. (I do have snow pants for her, but I was a little afraid she would get swallowed in so much snow). The weather that day was gorgeous--in spite of the snow, the temperatures were in the 40s, so we almost didn't need the coats I made us all wear (the picture was taken after the fact). Andrew and I built a pathetic little snowman. The relentless melting that day meant that by the time Andrew got up from his nap, the snowman had already fallen down. But at least you can see it here in all its glory.

Here's a picture of our street, so you can appreciate the snow better (and the spindly little arms of our snow man). The big pile of snow you see is where we usually park our car. Apparently, while we were in Cedar City for Christmas, the snow plow came through the cul-de-sac for the first time in my parents' memory and left all of the accumulated snow right in front of our house.

The biggest event of our week was Dan's visit to Cedar City--he had an on campus interview at SUU for a position as a chemistry professor. (You can read all about it at "Ahoy Y'all Children" if you're interested). Dan seemed pretty pleased with the experience and he enjoyed teaching the two classes he was asked to teach (I got to play student the night before he left, but I'm hoping that his actual students were more clued in than I was). There were only two on campus candidates, so Dan's odds seem good. But the question still remains as to whether or not funding for the position will actually be forthcoming. At any rate, we just have to wait and see.

Aside from that, we don't have a whole lot to report. School started for me with its attendant business and last minute complications--for example, just as we thought we had all of our class assignments worked out for our writing tutors, we discovered one more class that wanted Writing Fellows that we hadn't known about (but should have).

The kids continue to be cute (Evelyn) and vexatious (Andrew, on more than one occasion). But Andrew makes up for it by being charming and entertaining on occasion. His newest favorite utterance makes me smile everytime I hear it. Instead of simply answering yes or no, he's taken to saying "Oh yes," or "Oh no" in this drawn out dramatic way. And Evelyn, as you can see from the pictures below, is now officially in the "lumpy" stage of babyhood (as Poppy would call it). No signs of crawling yet, but she's certainly much happier when she can appropriately survey her domain.



Andrew, in his natural habitat: i.e., a mess.

another dawn, another destiny

So, this week has been a week of learning for our family.

To start with our newest member: This week, Evelyn learned to go to sleep on her own. (I.e., her cruel parents sleep trained her this week). While this was a painful process for a couple of days (probably worse for her mother than for her), she has now learned to go to sleep without being walked to sleep, which is a good thing for her. And an even better thing for her grandmother, who has a couple of cracked and broken ribs and who would undoubtedly be physically unable to walk her to sleep once I resume teaching this coming week. (This was the major motivation behind the sleep training).

Andrew has learned that Jesus wants him for a sunbeam. In other words, Andrew has graduated from nursery (at church) to Primary. I'm not sure that he is quite ready for Primary (he's the youngest member of the new sunbeam class)--but I'm even less sure that Primary is ready for him, although by all accounts he did okay today. And, as you can see from this shot below, he was rather proud of his new crown (it reads "I am a child of God").


(Here is Andrew, with his Christmas menagerie. I have to say I'm pretty pleased with the purchase, because it's kept Andrew occupied for at least a little while every day this week, which is a major accomplishment).

I learned (again) that sleep training can be a necessary evil. I also learned that just because something is on sale for a great price does not mean that I need it. This, after having bought several pairs of new shoes for Andrew at Dillards, that were 50% off the clearance price--so I got a pair of Merrills for $15 (instead of 45), only to discover that the size 10 shoes wouldn't actually fit on Andrew's feet. (I should say, I already knew this--about sales, anyway--but sometimes sale madness is infecting. Needless to say, I took the shoes back).

Dan says that he learned that you should not try to convince a mother to relinquish her baby clothes. He was bemoaning our "junk" (really, it's not a problem of too much stuff as much as not quite enough space) and asking me what we could get rid of. Well, most of our boxes are either books (which of course are sacrosanct) or baby items. So Dan asked if we could get rid of the baby clothes. I guess I might have overreacted a little--but I don't think he'll make the same mistake again. (It's not that I'm sentimentally attached--well, maybe just a little--as much as the practical side of me figures that it's likely we'll have at least one more, so there's no point in getting rid of those clothes . . . at least, not yet. But Dan should take heart in the fact that he may someday see the last of these clothes).

And finally, grandpa even learned something about anatomy this week. He was teasing Andrew, offering to eat different body parts (toes, ears, etc.), but Andrew had a convincing defense of why he needed each body part. Here is what we learned from Andrew. Toes are for walking (I think I told him that). Chins are for holding in your teeth. Ears are for hearing. And cheeks--in case you didn't know--keep your ears up.

Happy New Year, everyone!