Proud of Both My Girls

Paige continues to progress in piano land. (Her latest round of practicing has been motivated by her desire to earn a Rapunzel wig, an accomplishment that she finally achieved.) All of the credit goes to Traci, who does all of the fighting practicing with her. And at here last recital, she got to do the performing with her, too.

On the way to performance Paige said, "Uh, I feel a little nervous."

"Sometimes I get a little nervous, too," Traci said. "But when I feel nervous, I just take a deep breath before I start to play."

"I don't have to take a deep breath," Paige replied.

"Well, you don't have to," Traci said. "But you can if you want. It just helps you to feel calm."

When it came time to play, Paige marched right up there and did her thing. She did a great job on the first song. She struggled a little bit during her duet with Traci, however, because she got distracted by the two little boys goofing off on the front row. (I wanted to smack them in the back of the head, but a recital is, you know, a classy thing, so I couldn't.) But she still did a great job.

Here's the video:

(Traci also did a duet with her little sister Makell. I have a video of that, too, but I think shy-performer Traci would be embarrassed about me posting it.)

On the way home, Paige said triumphantly, "I didn't even have to take a deep breath before I started playing!"

I guess we don't need to give Paige any tips about dealing with anxiety.

A Weekend in Dixie

It was sunny and 93 in Salt Lake today. And it felt like a refreshing oasis. 

We just got back from our annual fun-with-Traci's-family trip to St. George where it was a cool 110 degrees each day.

Despite the heat, it was a nice little getaway. When I told Paige that, despite her repeated requests, we probably wouldn't be going to Fiesta Fun to play miniature golf in the midday sun, she complained, "All we do is go to the pool, go to splash pad, go to the pool, go to the splash pad." Yep, that's we do in St. George in August.

And the kids had a great time doing it. (Literally) right before we headed to St. George, Paige finished up her swimming lessons (level I for the third time; she refuses to put her head in the water) and was ready to show off her new skillz in St. George. I don't know what finally clicked, but by the end of the trip, she was swimming around, unassisted, like a little fish. She was even jumping in and putting her head under the water!

Curtis continued to be shy every time he was out of the kiddie pool (he was also signed up for swimming lessons but refused--for two full weeks--to get in the water). But not Tate. To our dismay, he'd dive right in and randomly decide to stick his whole head in the water to blow bubbles. It's a miracle that he survived the entire trip.

Paige's observations about our daily schedule were not entirely correct. In addition to the swimming and splash pad-ding, we also made it to the dollar movies twice. My date with Paige to Madagascar III was actually my favorite part of the whole trip. Paige was hooked from the first scene--laughing, dancing. shouting at the bad guy (er, bad lady). And when Katy Perry's Firework (Paige's jam) kicked in right at the movie's climax, I could see she was in heaven.

I slacked in the photo department, but here are a few pics:

Curtis feeling victorious at the splash pad (probably because he just discovered the joy of sitting directly on the fountain)

Tate's true baby vampire identity is revealed

Two minutes later Tate, completely unprovoked, stole his cousin's binki right out of her mouth and shoved it in his own (and he doesn't even like binkis)

Curtis and his cousin get a little tech time--Curt watching Power Rangers on the iPad, and Maika playing Angry Birds on the Kindle

Paige is also rocking some vampire teeth

Tate discovering that it's nice to be back in Salt Lake

 

Poor Barbie

Curtis and his cousin Maika were having a grand old time at Grandma's house, launching Ken dolls across the room.

The next thing I knew, Curtis was standing there with a leg-less Ken (and a guilty look on his face) and Maika's doll was missing its head.

I couldn't let them get away with destroying the toys, but it was tough to keep a straight face as I said, "Boys, if you break the toys again, I'm going to take them away and you want get to play with the Barbies any more!"

I know. Tough but fair.

Days Go By

Curtis is smart, but not that smart. Tonight we had this conversation:

Curtis: Dad, is today Monday?

Me: No, it's Wednesday. What day comes after Monday?

Curtis: Tuesday.

Me: What day comes after Tuesday?

Curtis: Wednesday.

Me: What day comes after Wednesday?

Curtis: June.

Me: June? No, Thursday.

We've still got some work to do.

Fashion Twins

There are a lot of parents that like to dress their kids up just like them. Turns out, I just want to dress like my kids.

After wearing the same pair of brown shoes for, I dunno, seven years or so, I decided it was time to buy some new ones.

I chose what I thought was a pretty sharp pair, tried them on, and then showed them off to Traci.

"Nice. They're the exact same shoes that Curtis wears to church."

Indeed, they were.

Either Curtis dresses like a fashion-less 30-year-old or I am very hip four-year-old.

A Pretty Good Day for a Four-Year-Old Boy

It would have been impossible to predict how things could have gotten better than they already were. Curtis was pretty excited to get up close and personal with Grave Digger in the parking lot of a Cricket store in West Valley. (That's even better than going to an actual monster truck show, when your four-year-old ears don't like loud noises.)


















Things only got better when we came back home and this cement mixer was at our neighbor's house. Curtis spent the next hour in the front yard, taking in all the action.

How could you ask for a better day?

Tate Taken by Carney, Parents Don't Seem to Mind

We were just standing there, minding our own parent-ly business, when the ride operator reached over the metal gates and said, "I'll take him, too." The next thing we knew, we had just handed our 14-month-old child to a complete stranger, who then put him in a moving vehicle.

And Tate loved every second of it.

This was our second visit to Taylorsville Dayzz (extra z's means extra awesome), the Fourth of July celebration in our lovely city. Paige and Curtis were very excited to go on the little carnival rides. We hadn't planned on Tate riding along as well, but when a carney takes your kid, what are you going to do, right?

Curtis was in heaven, with all of the car and motorcycle-themed merry-go-rounds. Paige bravely (and without prompting) ventured into big-kid land, going on the Tidal Wave-esque ride all by herself. She looked a little unsettled when she first got strapped in--and a little queasy when the ride took off--but she hung in there like a champ. Tate would have liked to go on more rides, but we made him spend the rest of the evening in the stroller. (Next year, buddy.)

Video Link

In West Philadelphia, Born and Raised

I'll admit it. I'm an anxious traveler. I don't get airsick or worry that the plane is going to crash into the Pacific or anything like that. Mostly, I worry about being late for my flight and I ALWAYS worry about getting lost in a new city. The latter concern seems valid, given that I have absolutely no sense of direction.

I went to Philadelphia a couple of weeks ago for a work conference. I was excited about the chance to visit a new city, especially on the company's dime. However, I was a little concerned when I found out I was going by myself.

But I figured I'd be okay. I'd arrive at the airport, take a taxi the hotel, go to the conference at the hotel, and possibly venture out to the nearby touristy attractions. Easy.

Well, the hotel was sold out, so I was assigned a rental car. Great. Armed with my printed Google maps, my car GPS, and the MapQuest app on my phone, I reasoned I could competently navigate from the airport to the hotel.

Sitting in the terminal in Salt Lake, waiting on my 6:00 a.m. flight to Philadelphia (which meant I left my house around 4 a.m. Seriously.), I saw another dude from my work. It turns out he was speaking at the same conference. He booked early, so he had a room at the hotel where the conference was being held. I told him that since I had a car, I could easily drop him off at his hotel before heading to mine, which was about a mile away.

Once we got the rental car, I glanced at the printed Google map. The route seemed easy enough. A couple of rights before getting on the freeway, then a few more turns and we'd be at the hotel. I turned on the phone navigator and we got on our way.

The phone app didn't have me get on the freeway at all. It took me straight through the city. As in, right through the city. As in, when I stopped at red lights every 30 feet, I noticed the women's skirts were more zebra-printed and more sparkly and generally more prostitute-y than in Salt Lake.

I was happy to have a traveling partner. If I hadn't I may still be waiting to turn left right now.

"In 2-40 yards, turn left," said the navigator.

I obediently moved into the left lane behind a line of cars.

The light turned green, and then yellow, and then red. I was still in the same spot.

"Uh," said my copilot. "Are there people in the cars a head of us?"

Who would have thought that people in Philadelphia use the middle lane of the road for parking and not for turning left?

Yes, I am not good at finding my way. But we made it safely to the hotel. Eventually. 

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It was a good trip. Traci not-so-secretly hates when I go out of town for work, not just because she's forced to be a single parent (something I feel quite bad about), but mostly because she thinks I'm getting to have a family-free vacation. I, of course, ensure that it's a work trip.



That said, I had a great work time getting my American history on, visiting the Liberty Bell (yep, it's a bell with a crack in it) and the Betsy Ross house (well, the gift shop. I didn't want to pay $12 to go in). I ate some Cuban food and a Philly cheese steak  (not in the same meal). I sat in the hotel hot tub and watched some NBA playoff games. Oh, and I made it to a Phillies game, which was the highlight of the trip.

My dear friend RB now lives in Pennsylvania. He drove two-and-a-half hours to Philadelphia, and then another hour in traffic from the freeway exit to my hotel, just to hang out and watch the game with me. (I bought him a sandwich at the stadium, so that's probably a fair trade.)



I met RB in my MTC dorm room. It's reassuring to know that 13 years and seven kids later, RB and I both just as unsure about what we want to be when grow up as we were in the MTC. (Shhh, don't tell our wives.) It was great to see him.
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The drive back to the airport (at 5 a.m. on a Saturday morning), was beautifully uneventful (we decided to take the freeway). With the two hour time difference, I was back in time for the kids' soccer games. It was like I had never left.

Sick Day

Paige has the stomach bug. No fun for a little girl and no fun for the parents who are trying to avoid having a house full of sick kids. Hence, Paige is quarantined in our bedroom.

Paige is very concerned that despite her condition, Curtis will still want to play with her. She's devising plans to prevent this from happening.

"I know," she says at the start of a brilliant idea. "Let's tell Curtis that there's a fire in mom's room."

"He'll say, 'Oh, no! A fire!'" she says excitedly, imitating his voice. "'I don't want to get burned up and die!'"

Seems like a failproof plan. 

It Was Bound to Happy Sooner or Later

The dynamic duo

When you give a six-year-old her own camera, you have to know that this is going to happen eventually:

Traci walked into the family room to find Paige holding the camera and Curtis standing in front of her, bare bum cheeks in the air.

A new house rule was then introduced. No taking pictures of naked bums.

Tough, but fair.

Who Gets My Vote? Mitt Romney or Aziz Ansari?

Today, Facebook recommended that I like two pages (apparently because of the things I write about on Facebook): Mitt Romney and Aziz Ansari. I like to imagine only being able to choose one.

What should I do? What should I do?

Choose the guy with the great hair?

Or the guy who's on my favorite show (Parks & Rec) and who did this incredibly funny (and completely swear-filled) stand up routine about his cousin Harris.

Sorry, Mitt.

P.S. The drinking fountain episode of Parks & Rec is my absolute favorite.

A Kindergartner No More

Paige needed to wear her fanciest dress for the last day of school

 We were scared to death to watch Paige get on the bus and head off to all-day kindergarten. But it didn't seem to faze her at all.

I'm pretty sure that Paige has loved every minute of kindergarten, from having THREE RECESSES! to getting to read her favorite book, Junie B. Jones, in front of the class, to playing Mario and Luigi at recess with the boys (she was always Princess Peach--she loves getting rescued).

We were happy when we found out that she had tested into the Advanced Reader program for first grade. The only drawback is that it's at another school in the district. (I'm sure Traci will be ecstatic to drive her to and from school every day next year.) So as far as friends and lunch lines and surroundings go, she'll be starting over.

We were worried that she would be upset when we told her the news, but she didn't seem to mind.

"Will I still get to go on the bus?" was her first question.

"No, sweetie. But we've met your new teacher and she's really excited to meet you and you'll get to make a lot of new friends!"

"Okay. I won't miss Oquirrh Hills," she added frankly.

So that was that.

And summer begins.

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.