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