Congraduation

Curtis is not gonna do nuthin for no one. You want him to sing along at his last-day-of-preschool program? Nope. You want him to do the little dance about the countries of the world? Uh-uh. Smile for a picture? Forget about it.

Despite his generally contrarian demeanor, he secretly loved his first year of preschool. He loves playing at the "block center" (where you play with blocks, clever title), eating snacks, and being around Mischa, the girl I think he has a crush on.

I can't believe how quickly the school year has flown by. Seems like it was just his first day of school.

After his program ended, I had to head straight back to work. On my way back, I sent a little text message to Traci to read to him (yes, I send my kids texts) telling him I was proud of him and that I loved him.

Traci's response--"That made Curtis roll his eyes and smack himself in the face."

That's my boy.

Little Buddies

 

A miracle happened this year. Paige and Curtis became friends.

At some point, Curtis stopped being a constant annoyance to Paige and became someone who would indulge her in all of her grand schemes--whether it was turning their bedroom into a retail store (where every single thing in the room needed to be pulled out its drawer and labeled with a price tag) or staging plays where Paige is always the princess. 

Though almost every interaction still ends in Curtis "not following the rules" or him hitting her with something, there are long stints where they get along just fine (and give mom and a dad a much needed break).

Paige loves to dote on Tate, but for the most part, he's just a bother to Curtis. He steals his trucks and turns off the Wii and crawls up on my lap anytime Curtis is trying to use that real estate. But when they're in the wagon, they are friends.

As I pull them through the neighborhood, I love to hear Tate giggle as Curtis entertains him with fake burps and other bodily functions. I can't wait for the boys to be buddies.

Parrots

 

I don't know if Paige's class is ready for the awesomeness of her report on her favorite animal, the parrot (because it starts with P, just like her name.)

The Boy Hears What He Wants To

Me: (Shouting from the kitchen to the family room) Curtis, it's time to put on your jammies!

Curtis: What?

Me: It's time to put on your jammies!

Curtis: WHAT?

Me: PUT ON YOUR JAMMIES!!!

Curtis: (Running excitedly up the stairs) Where's my candy?

Me: What?

Curtis: You said it was time to eat some candies.

Me: Yes, I'm standing here, holding these pajamas, and shouting at you because I REALLY want you to have some candy. Go to bed.

Words from the Womb

I love the kid-update texts that I get from Traci throughout the day. Especially this gem:

"Paige just told me she remembers seeing all the watermelon I was always eating when she was in my stomach."

Two thoughts:

1. For those who wonder when life begins...
2. I've never seen Traci eat watermelon, so I think she must have been sneaking it. Thanks for the heads up, Prebirth Paige.

Church is Delicious

Fortunately, Tate wasn't interested in sticking his fingers in the power outlets today. Rather, he was entertained by licking every folding metal chair in the cultural hall.

Tate Meets a Lady, Strikes Out

In Elders Quorum, I sit in the back of the room with the other dads with loud babies. Today, Tate was making a move on cute little Mary Kramer. To show his affection, he promptly stole two of her toys and her sippy cup.

But Mary's not just cute, she's tough, too. In one swift motion, she had her butterfly-patterned sandal off her foot, into her hand, and was bashing Tate in the head with it. 

Luckily, it was a soft sandal and Tate didn't seem to mind the attention. 

Soccer Season Returns

 
Paige has played soccer. Curtis has played soccer. But never at the same time. This season we've got them both signed up. I hope we have enough arms for this.

Back when we signed them up, they were both pretty excited about playing. That changed for Paige on Easter when she was playing soccer with her cousins on my mom's front lawn. After getting inadvertently bumped while going for the ball, she stomped off in tears and hid in the backyard. When she finally came back, she tearfully pleaded, "Unsign me up."

We didn't.

She had her first game this morning and there was lots of bumping. But she did better than she ever has before. Usually, she kid who is only interested in being in the neighborhood of the action, Paige spent the whole game right in the middle of the six-year-old scrum. Traci and I were two very proud soccer moms.

 

Poor Curtis' game got cancelled this morning. He was scheduled for the first game of the morning and it was still pretty rainy at game time. He's been wearing his jersey--and his cleats--every minute since we picked it up on Wednesday.

He was a little bummed out when he found out his team would be called the Silver Bullets, instead of the Gray Jets like he wanted. He would have even settled for his other two name choices: the Gray Monster Trucks or the Gray T-Rexs. Both catchy, eh?

Luckily, I don't think that he realized that his game got cancelled because he had practice yesterday. When we were heading home from the field this morning, he said to me, "Paige played against the blue team. We played against no team."

We'll pray for sunshine next week.

The Modernization of St. George, Utah

 

We were all pretty happy to sneak down to St. George for the weekend. It's got everything the kids want--a swimming pool, a park, and a Wendy's. But Curtis was a little worried that Utah's Dixie wouldn't have one very important amenity.

CURTIS: Mom, is there chocolate milk in St. George?

TRACI: Yes, I think there is.

CURTIS: We can take ours with us [referring to the squeeze bottle of Hersey's syrup]. I can hold it on my lap in the car.

A sweet offer from Curtis, but St. George did, in fact, have chocolate milk. It was a wonderful trip.

 

This picture will forever serve as visual proof that our kids can actually be nice to each other. 

The One-Year-Old

A year later, and he's still a redhead. We were happy to celebrate both Easter and Tate's birthday last weekend. And even happier that about a day before his birthday, he stood up on the sidewalk (he recently started his Frankenstein-esque walking) and promptly fell right back down, eye first. So all of the birthday feature his shiny shiner. 

I'd have to say that Tate has been our happiest baby. He's of the Elf school of thought, given that smiling seems to be his favorite. He's also been our earliest crawler and walker. He's not as happy now that he's mega mobile, given that every time he reaches something, Traci or I are quick to take it right back away from him. 

(Elders quorum meeting goes like this: Tate walks right over to the wall outlet and shoves his fat finger in there. I pick him up, walk him all the way to the other side of the room. He makes the long journey back to the outlet, I pick him up, and walk back to the other side of the room to start the cycle again.)

At this moment in time, he's my little buddy. Whenever he sees me, he almost leaps out of Traci's arms to grab onto me (a fact that the one who birthed him doesn't much appreciate). He tags along everywhere I go, either needing to be carried (that chubby guy tires you out pretty quick), or holding on to the back of my leg while I walk. 

He likes Paige and Curtis quite a bit and they (mostly) like him back. Paige recently discovered that she's strong enough to pick him up, so to his chagrin, she lugs him around a bit. Curtis is cordial to him when Tate's not touching his stuff or moving in on his territory.

Traci likes him the best. She spends a good deal of the day telling him how cute his or reminding others of the same. 

We like him. We'll keep him.

Gimme a U

Paige was really excited when we told her we were going to the U of U gymnastics meet. I didn't pay too much mind when she said that she needed to wear a cheerleading outfit.

"That sure would be cool," I said. "But I think your regular clothes will be fine. "

I guess I should have paid a bit more attention to her.

A few minutes later she came downstairs, debuting her resourcefulness. With little more than a Sharpie marker (which I thought we had put out of reach), she had turned a dance leotard into her brand new cheerleading costume, complete with a big red (permanent) U. The red Sharpie blush on her cheeks was just an added touch.

What are we going to do with this smart little girl?

Breaking Bread with the Senator

So there I am, just eating my breakfast and minding my own business at the Hampton Inn in Cedar City. Next thing I know, I see Orrin Hatch walking toward me.

Apparently, the good senator was also enjoying the comforts of the Hampton. I thought he was wearing a suit (as would be expected), but I noticed that he was actually wearing jeans and a big old belt buckle with his coat, shirt, and tie. His two advisers were both dressed the same getup and looked just as uncomfortable. But it's all about knowing your audience, right?

I was texting with my boss when Orrin-diggity walked in.

"Go get your picture taken with him," my boss suggested.

"Nah, I'm too shy," I replied. Really I just didn't want to have to say, "Hello, Senator. I've never voted for you and I'm sad that this year your opponents are even crazier than you."

Then my boss added, "You're a music guy, go tell him you like his album."

I should have. But this time I really was too shy. So I just snapped the above secretive photo instead.

When I wasn't having celebrity sitings, I was driving around Southern Utah delivering big novelty checks for work. I had never been to Bicknell or Panguitch or Kanab. Now that I have, maybe I need to become a small town guy.

I had the delicious Bicknell Burger at the Sunglow Motel Cafe

Favorite Little Warrior

Nothing makes an almost-four-year-old boy happier than when you unexpectedly come home with a coat of armor.

Nothing makes a dad happier than the resulting pictures. 

The Forging Begins

Every time you complete a scripture chart, the primary president gives you a little prize. I was surprised to see Paige turn in a completed chart, since she hadn't done any reading that week. But my signature was on the sheet (and Traci's, too), so I guess she must have done all her reading after all.

 I can't wait to see what else I magically sign in the future.

To Infinity and Beyond

Paige is starting to ask me questions I don't know the answer to.

"Dad, what's the biggest number?"

"Infinity."

"What does it look like?"

I knew that she was asking me how many zeros were on the end of it, but I gave her the simple answer.

"Like a sideways eight."

Her silence was only temporary.

"How do you count to infinity?" she asked.

"You can't. It just goes up forever."

"Yeah, but how do you count to it?"

"Only computers can count that high."

Another pause.

"What's the number before infinity?"

That's when I gave up.

Elvis Remains in the Building

The outfit (and physique) is Elvis. But the glasses seem to be a little more Elton John.

Curtis Quote of the Day

"Mom, are you sad that you are not very good at the Wii?"

The (Rarely) Loving Big Brother

Generally, Curtis merely tolerates Tate. You know, it's the 'having a little brother is fine, as long as he doesn't touch my stuff' kind of relationship.

Every once in a while, however, I catch him being affectionate toward his little brother. Like when I took a break from feeding Tate to put some dishes away. I looked over and noticed that Curtis had decided to pick up where I had left off.



He's not great at actually getting the food in Tate's mouth, but it's endearing nevertheless.

I Asked, And She Said Yes

I asked Paige to go to a Valentine's Day daddy/daughter dance tonight at Kearns High School. She graciously accepted my invitation...and then quickly started planning.

Paige: I think I'll wear my pink flower dress because it's Valentine's.

Me: That sounds good. I can wear my red tie or this pink one.

Paige: Wear the red tie.

[I hold up the tie.]

Paige: Yeah, that will work.

I Did it For You, Kirsten Dunst

So, let's talk about my bowels for a moment. (Yay!) A few months ago, I found out I had some kidney stones--big, pointed, jagged, painful kidney stones. But enough about that.

The CT scan that showed the kidney stones also revealed a fatty liver--the kind you get from years and years of drinking, or apparently, from being me. My doctor called me in to tell me about all of the horrible things that would happen to me if I didn't do something about it. Blah, blah, diet, blah, blah, weight loss, etc.

So despite all of my kicking and screaming, I gave in and put down the bags of potato chips and decided to get healthy(er). I am happy to report that I have hit my first weight loss goal, dropping nine pounds over the past five-ish weeks.

Soon I'll be able to fit into my old cheerleading costume.

Two Grown Men, In a Dark Theater, Watching Twilight

"I want to hate it, but I can't." That was what my friend Kaleb said when he told me that he thought that we should watch the "Twilight" movie sometime.

Sometime came, and then next thing I knew, I was watching the first three Twilights on DVD over three connective weeks.  Despite all of the longing glances, moody teenage angst, and vampire families playing baseball in thunderstorms, I couldn't really agree with Kaleb's take on the films.

But there's obviously no turning back now. That's why I'm headed off to the dollar movies at the Valley Fair Mall at 9 o'clock on a Thursday night. Will Bella really chose Edward? Is she really going to become a vampire? The anticipation is killing me!

Me: Bye, Traci. I'm going to the movie with Kaleb.
Traci: I hope your hands don't accidentally meet at the bottom of the popcorn bowl.

If it happens, it happens.

Princess Paige and Evil Curtis...on Broadway

I just finished my performance in the play "Princess Paige and the Evil Curtis."

The plot of Paige's play followed the title pretty closely. "Once upon a time, there was a beautiful girl, the most beautiful girl in the world," said the narrator/lead actress. "Her name was Princess Paige."

At that point, the Evil Curtis (the role he was born to play) enters the scene, (wearing his self-chosen costume--his Halloween skeleton shirt and his swimming suit) to wreak havoc on the tranquility of this imaginary world.

Luckily, Super Spencer was there (in his Paige-chosen costume--a blanket for a cape and a golf visor that makes him look "handsome") to save the day.

After MANY similar acts, Paige is finally saved. Then we get to start it all over again if Paige notices that Traci wasn't paying complete attention.

And they all lived happily ever after.

Rock Band

So, I still play in a band. Johnny Tightlips still gathers in my basement once a week to hammer out some punk rock songs. After six years and millions of unsuccessfully attempts, we've finally given up on the idea of recording an album in my basement.

We've been spending our Saturdays at Danny's cousin Tom's house, laying down tracks and being inspired by the Slayer and Metallica flags on the wall. The guitars, bass, and drums have been tracked for four songs, now Aaron and I just have to add our lovely vocals. For the time being, we're doing four songs (we'll do another three if Tom is willing), and they should be done in a week or two.

That means we'll be teenage heartthrobs in about a month. Watch out, Bieber. We're coming for you.

This Week's Music: Dan Andriano, Owl City, Letting Up

The title is a bit misleading. By "This Week," I mean I found this post from months ago in my drafts folder.


Dan Andriano in the Emergency Room
Hurricane Season

Dan Andriano has always been Alkaline Trio’s softie. But on his first full-length solo release, he’s a full-on teddy bear. And that suits him just fine. Andriano sticks to the catchy hooks he’s perfected through his years with AK3, but the music--driven by acoustic guitars and piano fluorishes--is a good fit for the tales of heartbreak. The lyrics are lonely (“I’m a mess, I’m a ghost who overslept on Halloween”), but the tunes are so upbeat that it’s hard not to clap your hands and sing along. With “Hurricane Season,” Andriano delivers a mature record (but not too grown up for his punk following), that doesn’t sound like it was made for your mom.

For fans of: Alkaline Trio, Dashboard Confessional
Rating: 3. 5 of 4

Owl City
All Things Bright and Beautiful

Success is always accompanied by some backlash. With his 2009 hit “Fireflies,”  Owl City’s Adam Young made million of fans. But there were also plenty of detractors accusing him of being nothing more than a mainstream version of The Postal Service. Both camps will feel the same after hearing “All Things Bright and Beautiful.” Young’s top-notch (and still Postal Service-inspired) production skills still rise to the top and every electronic bleep and bloop finds the perfect home. His lyrics, however, have become intolerably sugary, as he floats through skies that are filled with rockets, dreams, and girls he’s too shy to talk to. (The worst offense comes in the line “If the green left the grass on the other side/I would make like a tree and leave.”) It must be wonderful to live in Young’s world, where things are sunny all the time. His overly happy songs, however, would benefit from a little bit of rain now and then.

For fans of: LIGHTS, The Postal Service
Rating: 2.5 of 4

Letting Up Despite Great Faults
Paper Crush

Michael Lee, the man behind Letting Up Despite Great Faults, has a penchant for heartfelt, shoegazing electronic pop. On his third release, that infrastructure remains in tact, but the accessories have changed. The EP opens up with guitars leading the way (an approach that is used again nicely on “Teenage Tide”) before being tempered by the usual atmospheric synths. Lee wisely lets his own vocals take a backseat and they add to the layers of longing (for what, it’s hard to tell, given the unintelligible lyrics). On “I Feel You Happen,” Lee lets go entirely, creating a raucous noise fest worthy of My Bloody Valentine. Not one to let emotion get the best of him, he reigns the energy back in for the closer, the bouncy and beautiful almost-instrumental “Aurora.”

For fans of: The Album Leaf, The One Am Radio
Rating: 3.5 of 4

Boy Logic

When I wrote about Paige heading out into the cold, cold world, my friend RB, who has four little boys, commented about the differences between our worlds. (Girls sound much different. Recently rehashed at our house when Noah body slammed Calvin: "uggg get off me! You smell like poop and jelly!")

Luckily, I've got two boys so I could have this experience trying to get all the kids into the minivan.

TATE (in his car seat on the kitchen): Waaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!

PAIGE (running up the stairs to tattle): Dad, Curtis punched Tate!

ME (frustrated as usual): That's it, Curtis. You're going in time out.

CURTIS (bawling): I don't want to go to time out.

ME (after his three-minute sentence had been served): Curtis, do you know why you had to go in time out? You punched your baby brother. We don't punch babies, Curtis.

CURTIS (now wailing): Yes, yes we do, dad. We do punch babies. We do!

Paige Rampages On

I guess Traci's not the only feeling the wrath of Princess Paige. Tonight She told me if I didn't give her a treat she was going to "banish" me.

The Trouble with Raising a Princess

I was at work when I got this call from Traci.

Traci: I was trying to comb Paige's hair [this is a daily, horrible struggle], when she said this to me. "Mom, you're being so cruel to me. You're just as cruel as Rapunzel's mom on Tangled."

Either I married a wicked witch or Paige is watching too many Disney movies.

Baby When the Lights Go Out

Yet another traumatic experience for the Sutherland children. It happened while I was trying to get everyone ready for bed. I was in the laundry room searching for Tate's pajamas when the power went out. Tate was crawling around in the adjacent family room, Curtis was up in the kitchen, and Paige was in the bathroom.

When it went black, it went pitch black. My first thought was, "Oh crap, I've lost Tate." Luckily, he managed to find me and about two seconds later he was pulling himself up on my leg. Curtis wasn't hard to find as immediately started screaming hysterically. Paige was surprisingly calm in the darkened bathroom upstairs.

Even with flashlights in hand, Curtis continued to freak out. Paige calmly explained to him that "monsters don't exist and when you think you see them, it's really just the shadow of a regular object." (Thanks, TV.) But he would not be consoled. "Turn the light on, Dad. Turn it onnnnnn!"

Luckily, the lights came on a minute or two later. Curtis calmed down pretty quickly but then Paige decided to change her story.

"I was wrong, Dad. There were monsters downstairs. They do exist." I would normally indulge her in such a conversation but Curtis was standing there and getting upset again. "There's no monsters, Paige! They don't exist!" he countered.

"Curtis, Paige is just pretending," I assured him. "Monsters aren't real."

Then Paige kicked into overdrive. "Yes, they do, Dad. They do. Why won't anyone believe me? This is horrible. My spirit feels horrible." (Thanks, church.)

That's when I looked at Tate and silently thanked him for not being able to speak.

Spinner Becomes the Next Jimmer

Jimmer Fredette's sister lives in our neighborhood. While I was watching a Kings game on TV, I said to Curtis, "Do you see that guy? That's your buddy Jason's uncle. He's a professional basketball player."

Paige, never willing to be left out of a conversation, replied, "Dad, you like to play basketball. Maybe if you keep practicing, you can be a professional basketball player."

Hear that, Jimmer? You better watch your back.

The First Kiss

When Paige's first boyfriend was eaten by wolves, I was hoping that she was done with boys forever. No such luck.

We were in the car the other day when she said to me, "You'll never believe what happened at school."

"Oh, yeah," I replied, only kind of paying attention.

"Deacon kissed me!"

"WHAT?!!!!!!!!!!!" I was now paying full attention.

"He kissed me."

"Why did he kiss you?"

"Because he loves me soooo much."

I tried to keep it cool. I didn't want to let her know that I was rattled.

"So, did he kiss you on your cheek?"

"No, on my lips."


...

A few days later, I decided to bring it up again.

"Paige, you shouldn't let boys kiss you. Only dad."

"Why?" she asked.

"Because boys are gross and toot and stuff."

"And say naughty words," she added.

"Yeah. So if Deacon tries to kiss you again, you just say, 'No way, Deacon. You're gross.'"

She seemed to be okay with that. I'll take that as a verbal contract that is valid until her wedding day.

Ooh, She's a Little Runaway

My ward started holding a "how to raise your kids" class during Sunday School. This is a good thing for a guy like me who has no idea how to raise kids.

The timing of the lesson on "life stages" couldn't have come at a better time. Learning that around age 6, kids start threatening to run away made me feel a little bit better about the day I'd had before.

The Day Before...

Christmas decorations are just too tempting. I asked Paige (repeatedly) to leave the little porcelain nativity scene on the shelf, but she just couldn't help herself. Within two seconds of touching it, she had dropped and broken poor, unsuspecting Mary.

Before I even said anything to her, she looked at me and said sternly, "Dad, I'm not in trouble," She then stamped her and declared, "I'm out of here!"

More silence from me as she put on her coat.

"I'm going out in the cold," she said, in most dramatic fashion.

Curtis and I watched out the window as my six-year-old left to face the cruel world.

About a minute later, she came back. "Dad, I'm not coming back until you apologize to me."

"Paige, I'm sorry that I got upset with you. But I really need me you to listen to me when I ask you not to do things."

"Daaaad. I'm leaving. I'll come back when you give me a real apology." And off she went again.

I imagine this would have gone on all day, but I had leverage on my side.

"Paige, you're welcome to stay out there, but if we're going to be on time to your friend's birthday party, you're going to have to come back in."

Reluctantly, she gave in.

By the time she came home from her birthday party, filled with sugar and armed with a gift bag full of princess trinkets, all was forgiven.

Curtis brushed his teeth tonight, which was good. But he was chewing gum at the time, which I guess wasn't too good.

Another Christmas Miracle

I took Curtis to Cookie Cutters today to deal with his hippie hair. To my surprise, he didn't freak out when we got there, which meant he didn't have to sit on my lap, which meant I didn't have to hold the kid thrashing in rage. And he wore his cape, which meant we didn't both have to get covered in hair, which in turn makes one of us even more upset. And he didn't move his head around like Stevie Wonder, causing the poor 18-year-old barber girl to do about as good a job as I could with my sideburn trimmer. Merry Christmas every one.

Christmas Has Come Early

Right now Paige and Curtis are at "Alvin and the Chipmunks: Chipwrecked."

Without Traci and me.

Thanks grandparents, for making this the best Christmas ever.

Li'l Rudolph or The Plight of Christopher Columbus

Paige had her school Christmas program today. She and her fellow kindergarteners sang Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. She was pretty excited about singing such awesome echoes as "like a lightbulb." The real surprise came when the kids followed "you'll go down in history," with "like Justin Bieber!"

"Justin Bieber?" I asked.

"Yeah," she replied. "Because not everybody knows who Columbus is."

And there you have it. Bieber discovered America.

(And he was like "Baby, baby, baby, oh.")