Tell You [a] Little Story

Travel: Portland, Utah twice, New York, Philadelphia, Sedona, Southern Cal twice Highlights: Norah, Neil and Diana's wedding, Ryan and Jessica's wedding, Milo, Owen, Truman, Sophia, paid off student loan, Steve's big case settled, home improvements, pottytraining of Isaac, Norah sleeping through the night, excellent babysitting/grandmothering service from Nana, new blogging friends, in-laws home from mission Lowlights: dilatation and curretage, bad trip on Stadol, throwing away life documents, tithing check bounced (not our fault), pottytraining of Isaac Elliot: getting good on piano; a zillion questions about Harry Potter; newfound independence Aaron: learning to read; "I can't believe my mom doesn't let us have guns and we have a gun." Isaac: "Do you like Norah? I like you. You're my best friend. Does this back massage make you happy?" Books I read: Girl With a Pearl Earring, 1776, The Prize Winner of Defiance Ohio, A Heart Like His, Twilig

be on time*never have call waiting*understand the scriptures *visit every temple in the world*not be ethnocentric*not yell at my kids*cook well*teach people to manage money*avoid debt*be a reader*know how to do my hair*take a risk with my hair*have a clean house*laugh*attend the temple frequently*be good at Scrabble*not be jealous*have a good relationship with my family*have a good relationship with Steve's family*not be offended easily*not offend*organize my life*document my children's lives*stay abreast of current affairs and world events and politics*establish confidence in my children*support my husband's ambitions*not get mad at my husband when the house is a mess and there are no groceries and he invites someone to dinner with 30 minutes notice*travel everywhere*exercise*eat healthily*play the piano*be productive*vote*know current music*have a fuel-efficient vehicle*not criticize*not be taken advantage of*love people who are difficult to love*share the gospel*serve se

Norah Looking rather irresistible, in vintage Gymboree. {Stylist, D. T. Godfrey.}

Elliot, age 7, has been changing his "s" sounds to "sh" or "zh" sounds: baby talk. It is going to drive me to the loony bin!

DECEMBER DONE-IT LIST: -- Holiday Shop at school -- Present for football coaches -- PTSA meeting minutes and signature card at bank -- Cub scouts -- Book club gifts put together and book read -- Birthday gifts for Steve -- Gifts purchased (I'm finally done! Not another trip to the store for me) -- Christmas cards out, better late than never -- Host baby shower -- Resurrect pink maternity bridesmaid dress for firm party (and no one was the wiser) -- Spend rest of medical flexible spending money, so as not to lose it -- Miserable trip to the pediatrician for flu shots for the boys and 2-month shots for the girl -- Attendance at: Primary activity day, tithing settlement, football games, football team party, piano recital in the mall (Go Frosty!), PTSA meeting, friend's birthday luncheon, book club, ward Christmas party, very nice birthday dinner with a man who arranged for the babysitter and made reservations (lots of points for that, Steve), Christmas party of some friends, Enric

fru·gal [froo-guhl] –adjective 1. economical in use or expenditure; prudently saving or sparing; not wasteful: a frugal manager. gen·er·ous [jen-er-uhs] –adjective 1. liberal in giving or sharing; unselfish: a generous patron of the arts; a generous gift. 2. free from meanness or smallness of mind or character; magnanimous. Is it possible to be both ? (In my vision of an ideal world, the answer is a resounding YES.) Please weigh in.

Nutty Norse whaling allusions continue to haunt my every waking thought. Never mind that my brother called it bullcrap. It doesn't matter that some might say, "Henspig Trace? Crap gent, he is." I know you must know what you're talking about. I think you are a phat yap hybrid. When my husband wanted to know the origins of a word--voile!--you delivered. I was intrigued by your vivid analysis of the battle between Germanic barbarians and Roman legionaries. I've actually studied that battle a bit, and it is fascinating--even, flabbergasting, if you will--that the bitter north won. Bring gassy, moldering whale carcasses into the equation, and we have one fine bit of etymology on our hands. So thank you for your input, for livening up my humble, run-of-the-mill blog. Of you a father could surely say, "You are a damn dear son." I can confidently presume that you are a cool gamer, icily answering the perplexing questions of bloggers the world over. Dr. Trace, yo

Y'all are invited to my pie party on Tuesday, May 15 at 7:30:57 PM. I'm turning 3.141592653589793... decades. This program has been brought to you by The Clever Older Brother Society, where it has always been cool to stay in school. (Except when you don't.)

Look at my cute sister . Not only does she make heavenly baby quilts, but she also designed a fabulous Christmas card/baby announcement for me. Because I asked her to. Because I didn't want to do it. And because she's really good at everything design. Thank you, Sarah! I have another cute sister, too. She lives in Utah, and I don't see her nearly enough. I am very much looking forward to seeing her and her plays-with-my-kids wonderful husband and her walking-already! adorable son Milo when they come in a few weeks. Two very beautescent sisters-in-law, a very young looking, attractive mom , two cuter-than-cute nieces and a babe-alicious daughter round out the female contingency on my side of the fam. Watch for us on Family Feud. It's a little dream of mine. Oh yes.

1. Rotate doing something fun one-on-one with one child a week. Leave other children and nursing babies at home, even if you have to get a babysitter. 2. Start at age 3. 3. Give child options of possible activities to choose from, but be flexible if he has his own suggestion. 4. Turn off the car radio and talk. 5. No criticizing or nagging during this time. 6. Don't cancel if it's a busy day. Make time, even if it's short. 7. Do not threaten to cancel Special Mommy Day for bad behavior. It is not to become a tool for punishment/reward. 8. Special Daddy Day is cool, too. 9. Once in a while, include the entire family and do something fun you would not ordinarily do.

Today I was angry and hurt because somebody overstepped her bounds and micromanaged a project I was in charge of at my kids' school, all the while criticizing me in front of a group of people. It took a lot of energy and made me tired. Being angry and hurt, that is. (But also the project.) She called and apologized and I felt a little better. I decided to forgive her and let it go, but apparently I haven't achieved such, because I am blogging (whining) about it, so everyone can know that I was (am) right, and she should trust my capability. (Because I'm fairly capable.) I think when I wake up in the morning, I will have let it go.

Are you freaking kidding me?! Pamela Anderson and Kid Rock are getting divorced?? Didn't they just get done having their, like, 7th wedding last week? My inquisitive neighbor, who is herself not a fastidious housecleaner, just came over, looked at my kitchen, and asked, "Did you have a party?" You know it's time to clean up when.... Elliot, age 7, who has been playing Frosty the Snowman on the piano for weeks and weeks, who loves this song, who has it memorized, plays it for everyone, does not complain about practicing the piano because he gets to play Frosty the Snowman, and who is going to perform it at the mall on Saturday for all the festive shoppers to hear, has just announced that he no longer wants to play Frosty the Snowman, because it is too babyish. I am flabbergasted sometimes at this motherhood thing. Did I mention that I think Cub/Boy Scouts is a major bureaucracy? I just went to the Scout shop to get a Bobcat badge for the newest member of our den. To b

Happy anniversary to the two lovely people who brought me into this world. They are the best. And happy birthday to two lovely friends: Alyssa and my newest oldest friend to start blogging, Amy !

Thank you for blessing me with a mind to rhyme and two hyped feet. A superdope homeboy from the Oaktown. Fresh new kicks and pants, you got it like that now you know wanna dance. So wave your hands in the air, bust a few moves, run your fingers through your hair.

Credit to a blogger named Liz from whom I stole this little piece of hilarity.

I just heard Richard Simmons say: "There are no P.E. in the United States. Very few P.E." Very few P.E., people!! Did anybody see the new game show hosted by William Shatner Tuesday night called "Show Me the Money"? Anyone? C'mon, Suzie, I know you watched it, you Star Trek fanatic. I want to discuss this game show with somebody, for its sheer awesomeness. It's impossible to lose (except for the guy who did), girls in bad dresses do really bad dancing into the commercial breaks...fantastic!! Let's discuss. Alyssa is brilliant, kind, nurturing, about to turn 30, fashionable, tall, well-read, talented, and really good at, oh, everything. She does a mean Gwen Stefani. And now she blogs!!! Visit her often and leave lots of encouraging comments. Amy, on the left, is amazing, too, but she has to wait until her blog is up and running before I extol her virtues. Matt W. read my blog!! Steve and I both think fondly of Matt, and not just because he pulled a Joey

Governor Napolitano and Norah Belle, just after Janet had used a non-word ("recept") to describe what all the people at the party should do, and just before a little baby tug-of-war ensued between me, who went to grab my baby out of her arms, and Janet, who wasn't ready to let her go. I won the tug-of-war. She won the election. Everyone's happy (except my conservative friend Nancy.)

Sure, I knew this would eventually happen, but I must admit, the timing took me by surprise. Maybe she thought the election would overshadow her news, so she chose today to make the announcement. PS -- If I were famous, I would be absolutely PETRIFIED to get married. What is the success rate for celebrity marriages? Zero? Oh yeah, that's right.

I have entered a new threshold in life, from which there is no turning back: Scouts. Cub scouts, to be specific. Yep, I'm a den leader. Never mind that my 4 kids are too young to participate. It don't make no never mind. Ask me how devoted I am to the Scouting program and what I think about it being a bureaucratic fraternity for adults more than anything else. Ask me. Some highlights from yesterday's meeting: We played Two Truths and a Lie as an introduction game. The first boy to go gave us these options to choose from. "I am a genius. I am dumb. I am cool." Hmm, which could be the lie? (Jami, that was your son, by the way. So full of confidence!) During the closing prayer, I twisted up my face every which way and bit my cheeks and lips to keep from erupting in laughter when the 10-year-old earnestly prayed for help "as we strive to become celestial warriors." That was something he created on the spot. His parents didn't teach him that. This isn'

Hard To Believe Story #1 Don't Want To Believe Story #2 Thank You But I'll Pass On Story #3

She's five weeks old and, but for a bad case of baby acne, cuter and bigger than ever. Will someone teach me how to take pictures? Congratulations to Becky and Richard on baby no. 5. We can't wait to meet our sweet unnamed new niece/cousin!

Thank you to whoever sent us this. We love it! Will the gift giver please identify yourself so I can thank you properly?

Steve works at a law firm where his bosses are pretty (ok, extremely) well-connected. They know everybody . Politicos, big-money, you name it. So it didn't seem that strange to us when Steve came home from work one day with two unusual, hobnobby invitations. The first was to his boss' house for a "little party" for the law firm with special guest Governor Janet Napolitano. That's tonight. We're still invited to that and I'll report back on how it goes. The second invitation was to celebrate the renaming of ASU's College of Law in honor of Sandra Day O'Connor. Steve's boss has some thick ties to ASU, so we figured he must have gotten all his attorneys invited to this "private dinner" with Mrs. Nancy Reagan, the president of ASU, and Justice O'Connor. "Oh, that's nice," I said, "but we can't bring a baby to a big affair like that. We'll have to decline." "Well, let me ask around about it first,&q

Please come over to visit and admire our new, fresh, CLEAN carpet. We could walk around in circles in our bare feet. We could sit on the floor to play Scrabble or Nerts or Mental Juditsu. You could wrestle with any or all of my three rambunctious boys (I'll watch). We could take turns vacuuming and watching the "clean" button light up on my vacuum cleaner. We could lie down and make carpet angels. If you have a baby, you could let him free to crawl whithersoever he pleased. There are so many, many ways to enjoy our new carpet. Really, you must come.

In a total and complete exercise in obsession and compulsion, I have started a Tour Through My Tape Cassette Collection of Great Mixes of Yore. And I have some pretty great mixes on tape. While other teenagers were building volunteer hours as candystripers at the local hospital, or studying to try to get good grades on the AP History test (whatever!) or developing their talents or SOMETHING, I was spending many an hour perfecting the art of the mix tape. Rewind, fast forward, rewind, record, find the next song, oops, went too far, rewind, perfect! Laborious, I tell you. A time sucker-upper. And I was great at it. (Diana was super great at it, the best, the queen of mixes. Credit where credit is due.) I was really quite against the transition into CDs. My future husband told me once, "I am thinking about converting my music collection to CDs." My reaction: "Why on earth would you want to do that? What a waste of money! Each CD costs at least $15, and that's ridiculous

This is Steve. Probably if you are reading this (SarahDianaAlyssaAliceMomJocelynAngelaPepperCourtney) you already know that. Steve has been in New York City for six days and--HOORAY, HOORAY, HOORAY--he comes home tomorrow. HOORAY! Here are a few of the things that I missed while he was gone: --> Him never criticizing me, just pure love, support and encouragement. How did I get so lucky? --> Him reading The Hobbit to the boys for a long, long time before bed (because he wants to read it as much as they do) and saying, "Remember the rules? No questions, no comments, no interruptions until we're done." --> Help getting the kids ready for school. --> His great, clean smell after he showers after riding his bike home from work. --> Doing "family" things (i.e., dinner, prayer, family home evening) as a complete family unit. Here are a few things that he missed out on while he was gone: --> One third of his daughter's life. --> Aaron, upon bein

Broccoli and breastfeeding don't mix.

Or is it just today? Milk and vomit and pee and poop and water and apple juice and Sprite and blood and tears. Up to my eyeballs. I think that about covers it.

We have a lady named Olivia who comes to clean our house every two weeks. Olivia is lovely. Olivia's English is poor at best. (Steve and I have come to terms with the sad but true reality that employing Olivia will preclude either of us from serving our great nation as Secretary of Homeland Security or Secretary of Labor. So don't even try to nominate us.) We have a son named Isaac who dirties our house every day of the week. (As I write this, Isaac is taking orange highlighter to the green couch.) Isaac is lovely. Isaac's English is understandable to some, but not so much to the lovely Olivia from Mexico, who understands precious little English, even when it is clear-spoken and well-articulated. Each time Olivia comes, Isaac follows her from room to room and talks to her incessantly as she washes the windows and sweeps the floors. He doesn't care that there is a Great Communication Divide. Every two weeks, I can count on being cheered by a clean house, and a delightful

Steve. . . . . .honed his domestic skills: loading the dishwasher, making a delicious lunch of pulled pork with rice and a green salad, shopping at Sprouts, cooking sundry rices and grains for future use. . . .played football with Da Boys. . . .planned how he will fill his days and nights with adventure and quietude during his impending trip to the Big Apple sans wife and children. Elliot. . . . . .continued his love affair with his football mouthguard. . . .spent two hours on a chore that should have taken him, oh, about ten minutes. . . .caused his mother to reflect for the first time about a certain condition called ADD and caused his father to prescribe a diet of no processed foods, just in case. Aaron. . . . . .hammed it up for the camera. . . .didn't care that he is the only boy in his Broadway "Showstoppers" singing and dancing class. . . .asked if he could take a permanent marker and draw the Nike insignia on some of his white socks that don't have anything on

Norah finally came into the world on Tuesday, September 26th. She is perfect in every way. Steve tells people that "everything went really well" in the hospital, but I have a slightly different take on that. For me, it was a bit on the traumatic side. But she is so worth it! More pictures to follow....someday soon. (Thanks, Bek, for sharing the name with us.)

It's kind of nice to be inconvenienced by a tardy child, if for no other reason than I feel justified saying NO to things people ask me to do. It is uncharacteristic of me to say no. I operate according to the principles of obligation and guilt and service and the golden rule, so I seriously just don't say no very often. But this weekend? Ask me to teach Relief Society for you (someone seriously did). NO. Ask me to take your daughter to work tomorrow. NO. Ask me if I'm going to get all dolled up and go to the RS broadcast at the Stake Center. NO. (But I will listen to it on the internet, because obligation does run thickly through my veins.) Furthermore, if you are a stranger in the grocery store, ask me to turn around so you can see my butt so you can determine if I am right that I really am having a girl, even though you think I'm having a boy by the shape of my pregnant torso, and you can usually tell just by looking. HEAVENS NO, I won't do it. Ask me to elaborat

Forty weeks. No baby yet. Will take action if nothing by Tuesday. Thanks for asking.

Q: What do these things have in common? rupture of membranes amniotic sac Patricia Kennedy Lawford Peter Lawford Christopher Lawford Gordon B. Hinckley Gilligan's Island

I sat down at the computer to type up the PTSA minutes. Isaac was playing happily in his room. After 30 minutes or so, I thought it seemed kind of quiet, so I called out to him. No answer. I went in his room--he wasn't there. So I started looking for him, calling out his name, in all the rooms in the house. Our house just isn't that big, so I quickly discovered that he wasn't in any of the rooms in our house. I checked outside, even though all doors leading outside were locked. I checked closets, under beds, under blankets and bedding. I looked in the garage. I checked everywhere again, and a third time. I even opened the dryer door, in a desperate attempt to find my child. By this time, I was imagining the worst and getting upset and praying and playing out in my mind the call to Stephen at work that I lost our son and he needed to come home. I was about to enlist the neighbor's help. ISAAC!!! Where are you? About 10 minutes of this horror passed before I pushed aside

I had a lovely, if slightly physically uncomfortable, weekend, thank you for asking. I pulled off the cocktail dress, I think. (Not literally. That would have been a little risque for this law firm crowd.) My shoes even fit. Hooray! The cheap jewelry looked smashing. I splurged on the second best rated destination spa in the world , according to last year's Travel and Leisure Mag. Guess what? It wasn't worth it, but oh well, now I know. So, what special Sedona-ish treatment did I opt for, you ask? Was it the "Hands Off" guidance session connecting me spiritually to my baby's energy? Was it the $135 per hour journaling experience, in which someone coaches me in recording my inner ambitions and desires? The 60-minute Walk and Talk treatment? No, none of the above, although they were certainly available for the taking. No, I got the Arizona Sun Pedicure and Manicure combo. The 90-minute treatment that was more like 70 minutes. And no foot or hand massage. And lukewar

Baseline Killer suspect in jail, except not for being the Baseline Killer. Just accused of one the attacks--a double rape. He looks so nice in his booking photo. That's so me to feel sorry for the dude (I don't really, but just kinda.) Like I can really hate a sports team and root against them an entire season, and then when they lose the big game in overtime and look so crestfallen and dejected walking off the court, I'm all, "Oh, that's so sad. Poor guys." ......... My car seat that I ordered came today, so I can have the baby now. .......... Baby really hurting my right rib cage. Why must they always go for the right? From experience I know it will have to stop hurting before I will give birth, like the baby drops or something. Oh, when? ............. Going to a dinner Saturday requiring 'Cocktail Dress' which means that all the women will be All Bronzed Up. Have nothing cocktaily that fits. Not about to buy something at this late stage in the pre

There's a new color invading these parts. This blue and green Gap girl, mother of boys, is a little overwhelmed by it all. Thank you, Sarah and Jami for the loveliest of showers. And thank you, dear friends--who may or may not read this blog but almost assuredly never make comments--for making me feel so loved and for your beautiful and generous and thoughtful gifts. And also for throwing me head first into Pink. I can't wait.

If it's your anniversary and you are going to dinner to celebrate, you are allowed--nay, required--to throw all caloric and budgetary caution to the wind and order appetizers and dessert. If your marriage has been a particularly happy one and your spouse is especially wonderful in every way, I suggest you order a dessert that parallels your marital bliss in greatness. If your years together have been really very quite good, please accept this humble recommendation: get the banana split at the Roaring Fork in Scottsdale, Arizona. Oh, man. It is the best EVER. It's so good that out of 85 blog posts, I've dedicated two to shouting its praises from the mountaintops. And if you're not married, or your spouse is a bum, call me and I will go there with you. Did I mention the banana split is excellent? Stephen is excellent, too. I'm sorry you can't all be married to him. He's the best. Happy anniversary, babe. I love you.

So I came from from getting the oil changed, buying a birthday present for my niece Hallie (always planning my gift-giving ahead), and picking up the overtired and grumpy kids from their second day of school to find a blinking light on my answering machine. It was Samuel L. Jackson. Here's what he had to say: Now you may know me from my roles in movies like Pulp Fiction , Star Wars and The Incredibles . But I'm here today to make sure you go see a movie that holds a special place in my heart. That's right! I'm talking about Snakes on a Plane . I know that sounds crazy, but I don't give a damn, because Snakes on a Plane just might be the best motion picture ever made. It's that good! So, listen up. On August 18th, forget about your regular job, doing all those household chores, and stop wasting all your free time obsessing over your kids! And for go[sh] sake, quit repainting your fingernails!! Just hop in that tin can you call a car, go get your brother Neil

We were invited to a birthday party for today, 4 pm, at the "Train Park." We knew the family has a history of being late, so we didn't leave the house until 4:17. We arrived at the (hot, hot) park at 4:40. We walked around the whole gigantic park in the (hot, hot) heat looking for the party. We found no birthday party, but did run into a few other guests, so decided to play on the (hot, hot) playground for a few minutes and wait for the hosts/guest of honor to arrive. They arrived at 5:40, One Hour And Forty Minutes After They Told Me To Arrive. We stayed for another (hot, hot) hour to be gracious guests, then said something to the effect of being used to bithday parties that don't last much longer than 2 hours and we had to get home to Steve. The pinata and cake had still not arrived. Now, I know some Hispanic people like the all night celebratory affairs, and they all probably know that a party that starts at 4 o'clock doesn't really mean that people should

Early this summer, I was in a very minor fender bender. The damage was just substantial enough to warrant filing a claim with our insurance to get it fixed. It was supposed to take three working days. (I thought that was an excessively long time, and wasn't very pleased.) When the body shop took off the fender to replace it, they found extensive damage from an accident that occurred oh-so-long ago, before we bought the van. Three working days turned into three weeks. Or was it four? I lose track. We were real pioneer-like for that month. We shared a car for the duration. We endured extra fighting from the backseat because the kids had to sit side by side. At one particular point, our second vehicle was out of commission and we paid a pretty penny for a few days of a rental. How excited I was to get the call on Tuesday of this week that the van was finally ready to be picked up! Ahem. Our car, which operated beautifully B.B.S. (that's Before Body Shop), now has a couple of issue

Tell me what you think about this .

On the first Halloween we were married, Steve and I went to see Morrissey at the Saltair Palace in Salt Lake. It was a bit of a freak show, as one might expect: costumes of all degrees of scariness. I wore open-toed shoes. What was I thinking? Ouch. This girl on the internet saw him a month previous in Toronto, but our impressions of the concert were similar: "On September 12th, 1997, my boyfriend and I saw Morrissey at Massey Hall in Toronto, Canada. This was the very first time either one of us had seen him live, sat on the third tier overlooking the stage. We're fans but not fanatical. We were both mezmerized but Brian more than I, every time I looked over at him, he had this silly grin on his face. Most of the songs were from his new album and unknown to us. It didn't matter that we couldn't sing along, we were watching a man we'd grown up with, we'd listened to, connected with in our own way and loved. After a 1/2 song encore when fans jumped on stage and

If you want to see the worst movie of all time, watch Because of Winn-Dixie. That is all.

If I ever have a pet, that's what I'm naming it. PS--Neil, I challenge you to a game of Monopoly with Visa. I get to pass out the props.

10. Lloyd, or is it Floyd, Landis won the Tour de France, but apparently he has trouble walking across a room. Pain was his motivator to push himself. Huh? 9. I was really, really counting on Coronado/San Diego to be COOL this weekend, as in temperature-wise. Oh, but it was not. 8. My brother references South Park as a springboard for an earnest discussion on Mormonism. 7. We were guests in the home of a person with whom my husband has a very unusual relationship...his boss. 6. An airline can make two pieces of checked baggage disappear into thin air, even on a 45-minute direct flight. Truly amazing. 5. I had no idea how lost I would feel getting ready for church this morning without a brush, blow dryer, single piece of make-up, eyeglasses, favorite bra, Shade Clothing tees in assorted colors, cute black dress I bought in a boutique in Portland, contact case, nail clippers... I could go on. And on. And on. I had no choice but to curse the incompetence of the airline employees, a

Jumping on an offer this weekend for a spontaneous, all-expense-paid trip to gorgeous Coronado, California, where the average high temperature in July is 73 degrees. Forecast in Phoenix this weekend: 111 degrees. Ahh, how I will not miss those 37 degrees. Going to walk on some beautiful beaches, maybe shop at some chichi shops, read some 1776 , and eat some good food, whilst my husband is anxiously embroiled in a new case for work. Alas, it will not all be effortless and carefree: I will be staying at someone's house with whom I am not entirely at ease and hanging out with older, richer women whom I do not know. (Ought I to give a gift to the hostess for her hospitality? What is the expectation for business trips? What do I get for the most lavishly wealthy person I have ever met??) Anyway, did I mention 37 degrees cooler? Nice restaurants? The beach? It was a tough decision.

My kids were thoroughly unimpressed by the four (four!) fireworks shows we could see from the balcony at Steve's office. Just like I would have been when I was a kid. Bo-o-o-o-o-ring. Other things I thought were boring: Sea World, zoos, New Year's Eve, the Grand Canyon. I've only started to like these things since I've had kids who could get excited about them. But they don't; they take after their mom. They'd rather be playing strategic board games with their dad. Just like I would. I'm so proud. Post script: We recently spent a week in which we went to wedding festivities, swam in the hotel pool, spent a day at the beach, went to Disneyland and California Adventure, played with cousins, et cetera. "Aaron, what was your favorite part of our trip?" Without hesitation: "At the hotel, when the couch pulled out into a bed. That was so awesome!"

You Are Bobby Brady Ultra competitive, you will do almost anything to win. From pull ups to pool sharking, you're very talented. And while everyone is aware of your victories, they still (affectionately) consider you to be a little brat! What Brady Are You? Everything Pizza Diverse and adaptable You enjoy the full buffet of life It's hard to you play favorites with friends... or flavors There's very little that you dislike! What's Your Pizza Personality? You Are Not Scary Everyone loves you. Isn't that sweet? How Scary Are You? You Are Austin A little bit country, a little bit rock and roll. You're totally weird and very proud of it. Artistic and freaky, you still seem to fit in... in your own strange way. Famous Austin residents: Lance Armstrong, Sandra Bullock, Andy Roddick What American City Are You? Your Extroversion Profile: Assertiveness: High Friendliness: High Excitement Seeking: Medium Sociability: Medium Activity Level: Low Cheerfulness: Low How Extrov

And you can't stop me.

"Aaron, since it's your birthday, you can choose a restaurant that we can go to for dinner tonight." "Hooray! I want Souper Salad." (Groans and smirks from the parents. Cheers of great joy from elder brother, Elliot.) "Wait, no, I want to go to that place where you can make your own pizza, where we went with Jamie and Mark that one time." "Tucchetti? Um, okay, we'll go there." I respond quickly, the faster to get Souper Salad out of that crazy little shaved head of his. A little history: we've eaten at Souper Salad maybe twice before. For Elliot, it is just a taste of heaven on earth. You can get as much food as you want and you don't even have to pay for more! They have goldfish! They have pizza! They have ice cream with sprinkles! You can pick whatever you want to eat, and even go back for more! Watermelon? As much as you want. Pepperoni that you can eat plain just because it's there? They have it, and so much more. It's

Can anyone (Ryan??) please tell me why my Mac might be suddenly freezing beyond the point of control/apple/escape so that we have to turn off the power source at least once or twice a day? Also, we sometimes have static running through our monitor. I will mail a prize to anyone who can help me.

Chapter One -- Hook them up with your sweet connections to Disneyland's Club 33, where they will eat and eat and enjoy feeling exclusive and eat some more and love every minute of it. Let them invite their whole family. Chapter Two -- Entertain their children in Sacrament Meeting. Chapter Three -- Invite them to your house for lunch and fill them with delightful grilled salmon, steamed broccoli, baked zucchini with parmesan, two varieties of potatoes, and Texas sheet cake with really good frosting. Chapter Four -- Entertain their children again, this time with your spectacular toy collection. Chapter Five -- Send them on their way with a bag full of snacks for the car, including that expensive bag of yummy Peanut Roca you just bought at Costco. While you're at it, mention to the pregnant one that she's not fat, thus making her feel okay about consuming said bag of Peanut Roca. Chapter Six -- GIve them directions home, as well as plenty of cash just in case the toll roads wo

Welcome, Diana and Jessica!

...hair-combin', underwear-changin', or teeth brushin' when yer campin' with Dad. (There's no picture-turnin' when yer blogging with Mom.)

Having not cable, I was hitting the refresh button to get the updated score via the internet, and it was still tense. I'm always up for some good double-overtime NBA playoff excitement. Especially when the right team wins. Suns in 6.

The new Jennifer. That's what Emily has become. The most popular girls' name in America for 10 flippin years. The 2005 names are out and I am discouraged, oh so discouraged. Ava has made the top 10. In 1990, it was ranked 952. Thank you, Reese Witherspoon. How did my children's names fare in the popularity contest? Elliot, in 1999, number 501. Aaron, in 2001, came in at 42. Isaac, 2003? Forty-eight. If you live in Arizona and you have a boy, it is cool to name your child Angel. If you are having twin girls, name them Hope and Faith. Everybody's doing it. To my siblings: Ginger peaked in 1971. Gover has never made the top 1000, ever. But Grover peaked in 1918, the year everyone died of the flu. If Sarah would ever tell me what names she liked, I would look them up. But she's being all secretive, like I would steal her names. As if. To my sister-in-law: Congratulations on birthing my nephew today. I am excited to meet him, the little football player. Truman peaked in

Aaron, age 4, just now: "Mom, I know where you can go to get some more money." "Where, honey?" "You can sing a song on American Idol. Do you know any songs?" "Well, I don't sing. Why do you want me to get more money?" "So next time when we go to Old Navy, I can get one of those balls out of the machine."