Manifestogram: Reading

Who knew that a headlamp was all it would take to finally get Curtis excited about reading?

Manifestogram: Butler

Nothing's funnier to a three-year-old and his six-year-old brother than a jersey that says butt-ler. Snicker, snicker, snicker.

Tate's Transgressions (or De Overtredingen van Tate)

When I got home from work, the Wii was missing. So I knew things were bad. 

Tate is no stranger to trouble. Referring to SpongeBob Square Pants as "Butt Butt Butt Pants," for example, gets him a stern look. Hitting his brother gets him sent into timeout. When he's really bad, the Wii gets taken away. 

Luckily Paige, our family's second mother--or more accurately, the resident narc--documented all of the reasons for Tate's punishment: 

• Hit Curtis
• Bit me
• Using bad language
• Yelling at mom
• Putting the remote in your pants
• Trying to pull down my pants
• Fighting with Curtis
• Throwing  ball at Curtis
• Making a mess
• Nearly ruining my homework
• Stepped on Curtis
• Threw tantrum
• Spitting
• Lying 
• Making me write this list

Sounds like a busy afternoon. 

It's pretty clear that the punishment fit the (many) crime(s). But the real victim here is me. 

Tate and I play Super Mario 3 on the Wii every night. After weeks of work, we'd finally made it to level 7. When Traci unplugged the Wii, we lost all of our progress. Just like that. 

It's a dark, dark day in the Sutherland house. 

A dark, dark day. 

Manifestogram: The Artist Department

Paige just made her first business card. I'm impressed by her marketing skills. Now we just need to work on her pricing model.

Manifestogram: Football Guy

NFL bound.

Manifestogram: Sunrise

The payoff for getting up early to go to physical therapy.

Curtis shows off his masterpiece (and his forehead band-aid) at the school art show

Maybe the Yankees Should Consider Horizontal Stripes

If you're Tate, pajamas are the right outfit for anything.

Birthday Boy

As a rule, Curtis doesn't show a lot of emotion. But at 7:30 a.m. he shuffled into my room, holding his blanket. He pushed his head into my chest and gave me a small squeeze. A hug. He turned around and shuffled back out.

Once you reach age 25 (when you can rent a car without paying extra), there isn't a lot of benefit to having a birthday. It's jut a reminder that you're getting old--old enough to need glasses, to lose your hair, to have hip surgery. But there is one great thing. How much your kids love it.

Tate on (Soft) Rock

Tate: If I have a band, I'm not going to have speakers. Because the speakers make it too loud. Dad, why do you have speakers in your band? Why can't you be more quiet? 

---

Tate: If I have a band, it's gonna be called The Toots. Tate's Toots.

Piano Lessons

Paige hates playing the piano. And she reminds of this fact every single time she has to practice. 

This afternoon, as I was driving her to a piano recital at the University of Utah, she asked, "When can I quit piano?"

My Little Buddy

It's nice to have a mini-me.

Our Romantic Valentine's Day Adventure

How did the Sutherlands celebrate Valentine's Day? With a trip to the monster truck show, of course.

Traci had to work today, so I figured the best thing for me to do was to take the boys to Monster Jam at the Energy Solutions Arena. Though Paige made it very clear that she does not like monster trucks, she agreed to go as well.

Hip Recovery: Day 9

Bringing sexy back: ice machine, compression socks, and a Bluth's Frozen Bananas t-shirt

Alright. Here's what's happened since my last hip update:

Hip Surgery: Day 4

The hip surgery went well. Better than expected, actually. I'm now four days into the recovery and feeling pretty good--as long as I lie still on my bed and keep the ice machine running the required 22 hours per day.

A Date to the Rock Show

My last year of college, I got my first PR job. I worked at Salt Lake Community College for a great guy named Joy, who plays music with a guy named Eric, in a band (cleverly) named joy&eric. 

The other night, Joy invited me to his next show. I gladly accepted and let him know I'd be bringing Paige. 

My Hips Don't Lie

Apparently my hips are on backwards. Seriously.

So on Tuesday--a few weeks shy of my 35th birthday--I will be having hip surgery.

It all started innocently enough. I was having some soreness on the outside of my left hip. I thought I had just tweaked it playing basketball or something. It didn't hurt too bad, but it bugged me quite a bit. And it just wouldn't go away.

Luckily, my friend RB came to the rescue. He's in Utah for his last year of medical training, specializing in hips. Last time I saw him, I suckered him into giving me an impromptu hip examination (in the visitors' center at the Salt Lake Temple).

"Huh," he said, followed by a pause. "It's probably not a big deal, but you might want to get some x-rays just to make sure."

I didn't really want to get x-rays to make sure, I just wanted the pain do go away with me actually doing anything.

But it didn't.

So I got the x-ray. RB looked at it and said I needed to go to a hip doctor--and actually hooked me up with the specialist he's training with.

Chilly, Chilly St. George

How do you get rid of the post-Christmas blues in Salt Lake City? Take a trip to sunny St. George, of course.

On New Year's Day, we headed south for the weekend. There was just one problem. St. George was sunny, but it wasn't much warmer than Salt Lake.

This wasn't our first winter to trip to Southern Utah, so we know what "cold" feels like there. It's usually in the 50s or 60s, which is too cold for swimming (we tried last time) but great for playing outside at the park or going for a hike in Snow Canyon.

Unfortunately, when we got to the condo, it was just 34 degrees. And it never got much warmer than that. Because it was too cold for most outdoor stuff, we had to figure out had to stay entertained indoors.

So here's what we did:

It's a Pearson family tradition to go bowling on New Year's Day morning. Though we missed it this year, we spent the evening at the bowling alley in St. George. Good times had by all.

We also made our first visit to the Wildlife Museum. The kids were instantly hooked, thanks to the little plastic binoculars they got to wear and the radios they got to carry with the pre-recorded tour narration.

The learning didn't end there. We headed north to Leeds, where we visited the abandoned mining town of Silver Reef. Not too much to see, but we had a good time all the same.



By day three, we had kind of run out of things to do in St. George, so we headed to Las Vegas. How do you entertain three little kids (especially two little boys) in Vegas? Go up and down a million escalators, throw in some elevators, and take a two-minute tram ride from the Mirage to Treasure Island and you've got yourself a pretty entertaining day. Add in a visit to the Lego store at the Fashion Show Mall and a trip to M&M World and Las Vegas is pretty much the best place in the world. (Though Paige did have a few questions about various people we saw on the street, including the bearded old fat man wearing a wedding dress and the legless woman playing the accordion and singing opera.)



Tate had such a good time he couldn't help but do a little interpretative dance.



Despite the disappointing weather, it was a great getaway.

Basketball Night

I had a few lucky years where Paige liked to go to sports with me. Not any more.

I took all the kids to the Utes basketball game last night. Surprisingly, Paige happily agreed to go. But her tune changed once we got there. 

The game hadn't even started by the time she walked over to my seat and said, "I hate to say this, Dad, but I regret coming here."

Luckily she brought her sparkly birthday purse with her. She pulled out her little journal and started writing. Over her shoulder, I spied this sentence:

"I'm at the Utah Utes game right now and it's sooooo boring."

She cheered up when I let her use my phone at halftime to do some Dutch lessons on Duolingo. (The girl loves to learn.) By the time the Kiss Cam showed up on the Jumbotron, I think she was actually having a good time. 

Tate, on the other hand, had a great time throughout. After every single basket, he asked me what the score was and who was winning. After every. single. basket. I think I've found my new sports buddy. 

Earrings for Boys

It's been almost a month since Paige had her ears pierced. So far, so good. No weird infections or earrings left on the floor for me to step on.

I've never had a pierced ear--even thought earrings were super cool when I was in junior high. Man, I wanted one so bad. 

One day in seventh-ish grade, I stopped by friend Ben's house after school.

"Uh, Ben. What are you doing with that ice on your ear?"

Luckily, I had showed up just in time to hear that gross popping sound that happens when you shove an earring through a half-numb earlobe.

We then stood together in the mirror, admiring the metal stud in an ear that was now bleeding profusely. Oh man, it was so cool.

Ben only had his earring for a couple of days. Until his dad found out about it. And promptly ripped it out of his ear, leaving him just a small hole and a puss-filled infection to show for it.

But it was still pretty cool.