Category Archives: Wyatt

We had a fun day celebrating Wyatt’s birthday.

He went to work in the morning, and then we went to get him in the afternoon to take him on an activity scavenger hunt -

We started out with a picnic in the park.

Then we went to the local ice cream shop for some yummy goodness. Then off to hit a bucket of balls at the driving range.

When we came home we had a yummy steak dinner, and then friends came over to help us eat some ice cream and cake. I think it was a fun day. What did you think, Wyatt?

I think it was a great day, thanks so much. I had a hunch I should have worn my golf cleats that morning, but the flip flops worked okay! I love you Anj and kiddos! – Daddy

“You forgot the question mark” was the first thing he said when he saw it.

“No I didn’t. It’s more of a statement than a question.”

On Monday they spent the afternoon preparing our valentines – signing their names, over and over and over again, each one for a different friend.

For Family Home Evening we made sugar cookies, and decorated them with pink frosting. Each love frosted their own. Everett had patience for only one shmear and set about eating his. Olivia made sure the frosting covered all the cookie real estate in neat even strokes. And Calvin spread his thick, thick and globby.

The next morning, with Olivia at her kindergarten party, valentines autographed from the day before, a special treat for her teacher to boot, and Cal and eJo happy to play with Ila who came to visit, we set about making more cookies. Because who doesn’t need more cookies?

Chocolate chip to be exact, Wyatt’s favorite.

Later, Olivia, Calvin, Everett (and Ila) went to a neighborhood valentines party. More signed goodies, more treats coming home! During the break I took Wyatt a little gift of home made cookies. We promised no valentines – but home made definitely does not count. (And then he broke the treaty and brought me home tulips. Two Lips – it makes me smile).

And then the little loves finished their party, and home we went for a sugar crash. Daddy came home early to play, and with a little dinner in our tummies, we set out to give valentines to all the friends in the neighborhood we had missed.

And when it came bed time the kids went to sleep without a peep, happy and high on sugar, exhausted on activity.

That was Valentines Day 2012.

tonight i am typing on my laptop – something i try to avoid ever since calvin got a hold of it last spring and busted some keys – including the all important ‘shift’ – there will be no capitalization tonight. i may go back later to try and fix it. then again, i may not.

ten years ago today wyatt and i were celebrating our first valentines together by getting on an airplane and flying off to china. salt lake city was the toast of the world, hosting the 2002 winter olympics, and we were leaving the glowing hulabaloo for an unknown adventure in the heart of asia.

that morning i handed wyatt a brown paper bag – my first valentine to him – a few of his favorite candy bars for the flight, and a baseball, signed by yours truly.

and we spent the rest of the day in the air – watching the map on the in flight navigator as we climbed northward along the pacific coast, over alaska, across the bering sea and down the asian side of the pacific. it was very boring.

which sidetracks me to a list:

seas traversed in one way or another:

the bering sea
the baltic sea
the red sea
the dead sea
the mediterenean sea
the sea of galilea
the adriadic sea
the caribbean sea

interesting.

well, there should be more to this story than there is. but really, all of our very first valentines day was spent on airplanes to beijing. how romantic is that?

oh, don’t you worry, there will be a post tomorrow about our tenth valentines. it’s much more interesting.

When Wyatt and I were dating, I asked him to write me a love note – because, well, I’m a girl.

And he’s a boy. I think he thought I was encroaching on his manhood. Anyhow, in his typical jovial way, he scribbled this out:

Fish -

_______________________________________!

fill in the blank w/ gushy & romantic stuff.

Love,

Wyatt

And so I did.

Jared and Wyatt working on the deck (or sleeping on the job!)

Today I was in my room folding laundry when I heard a knock on the door. Then the door opens, and I hear a voice calling for me, but I don’t recognize it. When I come out it’s Jared, but he sounds funny.

He says: “Can I use your hubablaboo?” (And I understood him to mean, can I use your bathroom) And I look at him trying to decide if he’s being funny – but the humor is falling flat.

And he says again: “Can I use your hugbalkasdf?”

And I ask “what” and he says: “I need to use your habuskavoo”

And I ask him: “Wait, are you being serious?”

Then he pushes past me and starts going towards the stairs. He says: “I need to take a baloogavajoo.” (I understood him to mean, I need to take a shower. But then I could tell there was something seriously wrong. It reminded me of my neighbor Kathy)

And I grab his arm and say – “Use my bathroom, don’t go downstairs.” (I didn’t want him to go downstairs because I was afraid he would fall or pass out and I wouldn’t be able to get him back upstairs. At this point I knew he had to go to the doctors).

But now he’s kinda fighting me on this, and trying to go downstairs. So I tell him no, he can’t go downstairs, in fact he has to go with me, RIGHT NOW, to the doctors. And I start pulling him to the door. At the same time I call Wyatt – because, miraculously, my phone happened to be in my hand. I tell him he better come home RIGHT NOW and take Jared to the ER or I’m going to call the ambulance.

Jared sits down on my bench because he can’t go any further. He’s trying to talk to me, but every fourth word is just jibberish. Then he starts throwing up.

Wyatt comes home and they rush off for the ER (made a stop at the insta-care first, they told him to go on to the ER). At first I thought it might be carbon monoxide poisoning, as did Jared – between the words he could say, and what I could interpret (I think the spirit must have been with me because I was able to understand him pretty well in spite of him not talking clearly at all).

Anyway, that was a little after noon today. It’s now almost six. They determined it wasn’t carbon monoxide poisoning but a brain aneurysm instead. Wyatt took him to Alta View, and after a CT scan there, they transferred him via ambulance to the IMC hospital. There they did an angiogram? (where they put dye in the blood and then scan the brain to see where the bleed is) and as of ten minutes ago, we just got news that they are taking him in for surgery to stop the bleeding (brain surgery – I wonder what sort of scars that will leave).

Of course the doctors are covering their liabilities and told Lois and Harry that Jared might not make it through the surgery. But I had a very calm and confident feeling earlier this afternoon that Jared would be ok and everything would be all right. So I have this confidence that things will be ok.

Granted, it’s not my brother, so maybe I don’t have the initial panic, plus, I’m not a very panicky person anyways, but I just haven’t been able to feel scared today. I just feel peace that it will be fine.

Wyatt came home when they took Jared to do the angio. Right now he’s over at the neighbors, helping him put on a new roof, like he promised he would. I would get a babysitter – but alas, there are none to be found. I’ve called all of the ward and neighborhood, but everyone’s busy. I wish there was something I could do for Wyatt. It seems a little ridiculous that he’s roofing a house when his brother is in brain surgery – even if I have a confirming feeling that everything will be all right. So that’s where we are at.

Saturday – October 15th

We went back to the hospital that first night, after Jared was out of surgery. Jacob and Melinda also came down from Logan as soon as they heard, and so Jacob, Wyatt, Harry, Lois and I were all at the hospital, waiting. Jared was pretty much out for the rest of the night, but it was good to see him.

Wynn and Heidi came up on Thursday, and have been here ever since. I think it’s good for Jared to have the support of his family, even if he is pretty much asleep all the time. They kept him sedated for the first two or three days, but now don’t have him on any sedatives. He’s still kinda in a fog, but he is able to convey what he wants for the most part. When people ask him yes and no questions he seems to answer with clarity. He also is moving all his limbs, which is good.

The doctors say he will be in the hospital a minimum of three weeks. After that Heidi thinks he will be a rehab facility, which makes sense. Wyatt is in the process of tracking down all his info – bank accounts, insurance, etc. to make sure everything is taken care of. Between that and going back and forth to the hospital, he has had a very emotional and stressful week.

I am just trying to hold down the fort here at home – keep the kids going, and the house going, and have a place for people to come during the day when they take Jared to do tests, etc.

Calvin started swimming lessons today. Olivia would have too, but you know, impetigo.

Anyhow, he did great – blowing bubbles, floating on his back, smiling for his mamma when she wanted a picture. Mmm . . . sunshine and babies. Is there anything better?

Wyatt came home early, ready to play! We rode 4 wheelers up and down the street and around the neighborhood looking for people to play. We found Jill and Alan, who came over and had home made ice cream in the shade of the tree, and the kids ran around playing freeze tag in the sweltering heat.

Later we decided a small fishing trip was in order. We packed Calvin’s new pole, and the other gear, and decided to try our luck at the Discover Park pond – which is about a mile down the street from grandma’s house.

As it turned out we had great luck. We caught no less than four fish (maybe more, there was part where I left and took Olivia and eJo to the playground, leaving Wyatt and Cal to do their thing).

Each fish was admired for what it was: TINY.

The kids enjoying torturing each fish with pokes, and prods before throwing it victoriously back into the pond.

Wyatt enjoyed being stuck by flying fishing hooks a couple times, and mamma enjoyed keeping the kids from falling in the lake (Cal did fall in up to his knees, thus the under-roo pictures later).

Afterward we went to grandma’s house for a jump on the trampoline and Moose Tracks ice cream cones. I have a theory that the amount of crud on your face at the end of the day is in direct correlation with the awesomeness of the day. As you can see, it was an awesome day for these kiddos.

Puff - sometime in 1999 - 2000?! I remember I learned how to play "Puff the Magic Dragon" on the guitar when I lived in Russia, and I imagine this illustration has a direct coorelation to that.

-Deck

-Murray House

-Business

-Baby

-3 Children

-Summer

The other night Wyatt and I were talking about what the craziest things we’d ever done were (consolations to long boring days of work and cleaning and cooking):

There were the generic answers. You know, jumping out of planes, getting locked into Golgotha in the middle of the night, streaking a wedding, stowing away on a ship to get off the continent, or getting arrested on the Brazilian/Argentine border. All those make for good stories (sound much more exciting than they actually were). But Wyatt came up with one I had completely forgotten about.

It happened when we lived in China.

So there we were, minding our own business (as is ALWAYS the case),

at Pagoda Hill.

Pagoda Hill was our name for this funky little park in the middle of the city of Urumqi. It had a giant hill, and at the top, a giant Pagoda. The whole park was centered around this hill, and there were ponds and petting zoos and paddle boats and people everywhere. It was almost like a mini amusement park too, with an Alpine Slide type thing that cruised down the hill side, and a ferris wheel, even a small dragon roller coaster.

But after we had been there half a dozen times or so, I noticed something I hadn’t seen before. There at the top of the hill, just to the side of the Pagoda, tucked behind some trees and bushes, was a small platform, and two little chinese ladies standing about, looking bored.

We went over to see what was up. And then we saw it: Giant wires coursing over our heads, down the steep hill, out across the freeway that flanked the park, and across the way into another mass of trees and bushes. By the vests and caribeeners and straps, we figured what it was.

But did we have the guts to actually do it? To strap ourselves to those wires, and go flying across . . . an eight lane freeway?

Wyatt went first.

He zipped across, traffic cruising just feet below his body. He disappeared into the trees, safe on the other side.

Next was my turn.

I checked each strap, even after the chinese woman had checked and rechecked. And then, through the pantomimes, I was told to start running.

I ran down the small cement ramp, and soon enough my feet were pulled out from under me as the slope and momentum carried me down, down, down the hill, over the fence, and across the lanes of traffic . . .

and then I began to slow. I saw the trees (I saw what was just beyond the trees, and began to prepare for impact). But then my body stalled, momentum gone, my weight not enough to carry me quite far enough . . .

And THEN I began to slide backwards on the slack of the line . . . back out over the freeway, to where semi trucks were cruising at speeds I felt uncomfortable with.

I dangled there, traffic below me, hung in mid air over the lane, bouncing now on the line, looking at Wyatt, whose eyes were big with -what – fear, amusement, disbelief?

And then another little Chinese lady came out with a long long bamboo stick. She stretched it out to me. I grabbed hold, and was pulled to the safety of the cement pad.

And that was the only time we ever rode the zip line at Pagoda Hill.

*At the end of the line, just out of view from the top of the hill, was a cement pad . . . and a cement wall, with a mattress placed vertically on it, with (sick Chinese sense of humor) a bullseye painted on it. After your death-defying ride across the highway, you were stopped by slamming into it and bouncing back onto the cement pad. Wyatt said that was not fun. I didn’t have the momentum to actually do this, but I believe him.

If you have a hankerin’ for S’mores

And bedtime stories by the fire

And the company of a trusty ol’ pal

And a brother

If you want to sleep in a bag right on the ground . . . but the spring weather just won’t cooperate . . .

Try camping in the living room.

This camp out brought to you by fire-maker-tent-setter-upper (and-taker-downer) Extrodinaire : Super Dad.

Last night we went to a new Thai restaurant.

And we giggled as we sat at our table and remembered the time . . .

We were in Phuket, and we rented a little 90cc scooter.

And we decided to go to the other side of the island.

Which meant riding up this really tall, long, steep hill.

And there were cars and buses behind us. But the 90cc scooter was really only 30 cc’s, so we were barely moving at a crawl.

And finally I hopped off the back (while it was still going) and we both pushed the thing the rest of the way up the hill.

But then we decided to turn around and go back to the hotel.

So there I was, minding my own business . . .

Literally. I was in my apartment at BYU, doing homework in my living room. I heard the voices of a couple guys and girl come in the door. They were looking for my room-mate Chisoma.  I heard Stephanie (my other roomie) explain that Chiz wasn’t home. Apparently they weren’t deterred.

Next thing I know, Wyatt comes in, sits himself down on my couch, and tries to strike up a conversation.*

But I wasn’t down.

I was on an anti-boy strike that semester, which meant simply that I accepted dates, but I didn’t go on second dates, and I definitely did not flirt.

So I sat on my floor, homework spread out before me, and gave one word answers waiting for this guy to go away.

But Wyatt was on one that day, and didn’t let it go. He kept talking and talking and asking inconsequential questions, and making inconsequential remarks.

Until finally he made a comment about his “time at BYU Jerusalem.”

And that was it. I finally looked up at him, gave him my best smile, climbed up on the other couch, and asked him to tell me all about BYU Jeru. I had just finished my application for the fall program you see, and was thoroughly interested in all the adventures there were to be had!

And we talked for about two hours about Jerusalem, and Russia, and the Indian Reservation, and South America and all the other adventures we had both had in our college years.

Until he had to go to class.

But he came back as soon as his afternoon classes were over, and we talked for maybe another hour, before he had to go again (I think to play basketball with his buddies).

And that was ten years ago today.

Now . . . do you want to hear more of our dating story?

The next night he showed up – I had just gotten out of the shower, and I remember standing there in sweats with dripping hair and no make-up. He invited me down to a barbeque he and his buddies were having in the courtyard of our apartment complex (turns out Wyatt lived just three doors down from me, but was in a different ward, so I didn’t know who he was).

And we played.

And we played every day in a very platonic way until one day, maybe a week or ten days later a really fabulous Spring thunder storm had rolled in. We had already hung out that day, and said our goodbyes promising more fun tomorrow. But then, a spring storm – really?

So at midnight I knocked on his door. His room-mate answered and went to get Wyatt, who was already in bed. He came to the door in his jammies (so cute). I said “The way I figure it, we can either be responsible and go to bed so we can get up for class in the morning, or we can go have fun now.”

And Wyatt said “Let me go get my shoes.”**

So we went up to campus – the only place not closed and locked up for the night. We ran all over campus, playing in the rain. And then under a big pine tree, where some branches had broken off making a little hollow, he kissed me for the first time.

Oooh, romantic, right?

Not!

Well, okay, it was romantic, but it was also lame, because Wyatt had a bet going with his buddies that he wouldn’t kiss a girl the whole semester, and Jimmy and Kris would each kiss one.

Apparently Wyatt had quite the reputation.

So I was trying to not let him kiss me – I didn’t want to be another mark on the belt, so to speak.

But he got me. Mmmmm.

And then he refused to tell anyone! And he told me not to tell (grrr.)

Dave, Me & Wyatt, ready for Bon Jovi

And we didn’t tell anyone for another ten days or so. Until finally it was the last night of the semester, and there was a big party up on campus. We all went up (me, Wyatt, and all his buddies). Since it was the last night of the semester, the guys were talking about this big bet they had going all semester. I bet Eks to see who could kiss the most people that night. I was going to get Wyatt to cave if it killed me! The first thing I did was kiss Kris. I still giggle when I think about that because it could very well have been Kris’s first kiss EVER. But whatever. Then Wyatt was seriously annoyed.

And so after the party we went back to Wyatt’s apartment, and I kissed him, just as Eks came walking up. And he said “oh, were you guys kissing?” -Seriously surprised. And I just said, “Um, yeah!”

And that’s how that came out.

Eks, Wyatt, Me & Dave at the Bon Jovi concert

And then the semester ended. Wyatt was supposed to go out right away for a summer sales job. I was staying in Provo for the summer, going to school. I convinced Wyatt to stay one spring term, before he headed out. He finally agreed.

But his other buddies had to go to their summer jobs, including Eks and Dave, who were both heading to Denver for the summer. I remember it was a Sunday night, and we were sitting in my apartment at ten o’clock at night. We knew Dave and Eks were going to Denver. “You know, Bon Jovi is playing in Denver this week” Wyatt said to me.

A half hour later the four of us were on the road, driving to Denver. We went to Bon Jovi, dropped Dave and Eks off at their locations and headed home from our impromptu road trip. And that is how I was introduced to Butt Rock and the music of Bon Jovi.

We had other adventures that summer, some the stuff of legends, but mostly we just hung out at the pool, and walked two or three times a day to the Crest gas station for popsicles.

Finally it was time for Wyatt to go. He was heading to Phoenix where he and a couple of his buddies were going to try their hand at business and start their own pest control business. He drove off on his motorcycle while I stood at the Crest gas station and watched him go.

But he came back. Every week or ten days he drove ten hours north to see his hot girlfriend (me).

I think it was his first time back to Utah that we went up to my grandpa’s cabin. It was fourth of July weekend, and festivities were in full force. Barbequed burgers and potato salad and hikes and playing in the river. At one point we went on a walk by ourselves down the creek, looking at all the old (old) miners cabins along the way. We sat down on a log and started outlining what we would want in our cabin someday. How big, where, where the fireman’s pole should be, etc.

And the we decided if we were going to talk about owning real estate together, we should also talk about getting married.

And it was all down hill from there.

Wyatt proposed on the 27th of July, and were married on the last day of summer, a week shy of six months from knowing each other.

And now, here we are, ten years, eight countries, five rodeos, three and a half kids, two and a half dogs, two houses, two four wheelers, one cabin lot, and a big dream later. We’re still working on “getting there.” I think we both thought we’d have “arrived” by now. Some days are stressful. Some days are loud. Some days are boring. Some days are stinky. Some days are fun. Some days are exciting. Some days we can feel ourselves getting closer, to our goals and each other. And some days are the stuff of legends.

Happy March 28th!

*The other guy and girl who came into my apartment that day? Eks, and Julie.
**Wyatt now says that I was “false advertising” when we were dating, because I would stay up so late (two or three in the morning barely phased me), and now it’s all I can do to stay awake for the evening news.

Remember in Enchanted when Amy Adams ran through the park with Patrick Dempsy, singing about the things a guy will do just so you know he loves you?

I LOVE that scene.

And how do I know he loves me?

On Monday morning I woke up to my whole house cleaned. CLEANED! And it was a mess – like there’s not even any space to walk because the whole floor is covered with toys and laundry. But upstairs and down were all tidied up.

He didn’t want me to start of the week feeling overwhelmed he told me.

So while I slept (I put myself to bed about seven on Sunday night), he cleaned.

But before that, he managed three children all day with nary a helping hand from me. He made them lunch and dinner. He changed them from their Sunday clothes. He played with them and entertained them, all so I didn’t have to.

And that’s how I know. He takes such good care of me.

I love you.

TRAVELOGUE – very boring, unless you’re me and want to remember these details forever. AND EVER.

Sometime back in February I think, I made a vague mention that maybe we would go to Disneyland . . .

Of course, never make vague mentionings to a four year old girl with a heart of gold and a belief that her parent’s word is law. She latched onto that like a newborn who hasn’t been fed all day.

How’s that imagery for you?

Anyhow, it became “the thing.”

“When we go to Disneyland we’ll . . . “

or how about

“At Disneyland they have . . . “

or

“The Princess’ at Disneyland . . .”

you get the point.

We decided to wait until the fall – better weather, more time to prepare. We first thought we’d go in September, then maybe October. Finally we decided Thanksgiving weekend would be the perfect opportunity to steal away to Southern California. We’d already be half way, with our Turkey Feast taking place in Saint George this year.

Bright and early Friday morning we woke, shuffled the wish-they-were-still-sleeping-but-now-they’re-awake-and-going-to-need-attention-the-whole-drive kids into the car. We made it to Anaheim without much ado. My arm was numb from sitting twisted in the front seat so I could hold Everett’s bottle for the last hour and a half – but hey, that’s normal.

We checked into our hotel, climbed out of our PJ’s, and made a mad dash (pushing 3 kids in two strollers, you can imagine how fast we went) for the park. We got into the park about 2:30. We hit the merry-go-round, the boat ride, and the kids favorite: Toon Town. The crowds weren’t bad. Our longest line was about twenty minutes – very manageable. As the evening wore on, we even walked onto a ride or two.

But alas, seven thirty came early that night, and Calvin turned into a pumpkin promptly. He fell asleep in his daddy’s arms, and not even the excitement of Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride could rouse him. We called it a night.

The next morning we headed to the park first thing. Olivia had been asking for the Dumbo ride, and where the day before the line had been an hour long, that morning we walked right on. Dumbo is a great ride.

We finished up the fun rides at Fantasyland before heading over to Frontierland and Critter Country. Olivia discovered a new love: Roller Coasters. Her favorite was Splash Mountain, which she rode several times with her mama and daddy. The little buckaroos enjoyed canoe rides, and a ride on a pirate ship, and exploring in Tarzan’s tree house. We enjoyed a jungle river boat trip, cotton candy, and some adventures with Winnie the Pooh. We really did a lot, and by 3:00 the kids were close to melt down. We decided to head back to the hotel for naps. “We’ll come back tonight. We’ll watch world of color, and ride more rides.”

But that night it rained. I mean, it poured. We rode the swings in California Adventure, then stood 20 minutes under an awning waiting for the World of Color. But by then we were so cold we decided to just bag the whole thing. We walked home across the park as World of Color splashed in magnificence behind us.

The next day the park was dead.

I mean – we walked onto the Matterhorn – four times! Around and around and around we went. Wyatt would ride with Cal while O and I stayed with Ejo. Then O and I would go while Wyatt and Cal waited. Over and over again. Calvin LOVED the Matterhorn.

We rode on Autotopia, where Calvin got to drive the car all by himself. We went on a submarine voyage to find Nemo. We rode the Big Thunder Mountain Railroad a couple times, and even hit Splash Mountain again. We were walking onto all of these rides. The lines were just non-existent. We finished up all the rides we wanted to go on, went to California Adventure for a few attractions there (ironically, the scariest ride in the whole place is the Ferris Wheel at California Adventure! Ugh). And then we circled back and hit all our favorites again.

And by 3:00 the kids were mo’ done. As we left, each child chose a souvenir. Calvin chose a sword to “lead the way” aka- stab the back of Dad’s seat the entire drive home. Olivia chose a Princess Aurora doll, which she contentedly cuddled with in the back seat as we drove again across the wilderness of the American Southwest, and headed home.

PS- Pictures coming soon!

Look closely at this pile of laundry.

Happiness is a baby boy who sucks on his fingers.

Happiness is stopping by the store to find Christmas gifts on a great sale!

Happiness is having Carrie come over for a few days.

Happiness is playing in the leaves.

Happiness is home made corn chowder and corn bread.

And candy cane hot chocolate.

And home made carmel popcorn, and pink white chocolate popcorn.

And lasagna.

And not thinking about the calorie count until blogging about it two days later.

Happiness is looking up to see Olivia leading Bullseye down the paddock by herself with all the confidence of a girl who is meant to ride.

Happiness is having the toilet set and the bathtub working in the downstairs bathroom.

Happiness is a Super Calvin who wakes up at 7 am on the dot – even with the time change.

Happiness is a hot date with a man who loves me.

Happiness is My Family every day.

What is Happiness to you?

Wyatt was bemoaning the decor associated with various holidays, case in point: Halloween. “I hate the stuff everywhere. Ick, I’m just so glad we don’t have all that stuff.

Now it must be said: Wyatt hates “Stuff.”

It also must be said: I am not the least opposed to stuff, I just walk down the decor aisle and feel totally overwhelmed and unable to coordinate and create decor of fabulousNESS. Thus, I push the cart faster, and invariable go home empty handed.

But THE VERY NEXT DAY as we drove through the neighborhood, Olivia observed to her father:

“Daddy, everyone else has their houses all ready for Halloween. They are so cool. We don’t have anything for Halloween. I wish we did.”

Nothing like the social commentary of a five year old to change the tune of a father’s heart.

For family home evening we made decorations. Pumpkins and bats for the door. And I even bought a halloween ghost at the grocery store. Add those to the pumpkins and cornstalks from the Smith’s, and we are MO IN THE SPIRIT of halloween. Olivia is so happy.

Back in the Spring Wyatt decided he would take a little trip with his old college buddy, Jimmy, to the country where they both served their missions: Argentina.

But complications arose, and Argentina was out.

“I’m either going to Tel Aviv, or Lisbon” Wyatt said when he called me from DC on Tuesday. I was in the middle of teaching a salsa canning class. I told him if he went to Tel Aviv I would be -ahem- annoyed. (I might have used stronger language than that).

With the relief society ladies sitting at my kitchen table I didn’t really have a chance to get into it. When I hung up the phone I wondered where he would end up.

I received an email from him that night. He was in Portugal.

But not for long. He almost immediately headed for Spain:

where he snuck into a U2 360 Concert.

But that’s just the beginning.

Then he caught a ferry to Morocco (remember last time he was in Morocco? He hitchhiked 100 miles into the country, spent a wild night with some inebriated Arabs, was robbed of everything he had on him, and had to stow away on a ferry to get off the continent?). This time with Jimmy along, things were a little more mellow. They only got sorta swindled, and there was only one punch thrown, and it was Jimmy, not Wyatt on the receiving end (no, Wyatt wasn’t the one throwing the punch either).

The toured the Kasbah, which was cool. Apparently there’s a hole in the wall that you can look through and see three ancient churches belonging to the most dominant religions in Africa: Christianity, Judaism, and Islam. Of course, this leads to anthropological curiosity of the history of these religions and their influence in the region. “Did you go see the churches?” I asked in great interest.

“No. But I did buy a Disney princess hat for Olivia – in English.”

Heading back to the European side of the sea, Wyatt rocked Spain for another day before coming back to the land he must keep.

A day in West Virgina with brother, participation in the “Mary Thornburgh is a Christian” cause (which I’m not so sure about, by the way), and then back to DC to catch his flight home.

I think the adventure was good for him – help him get back to center if you know what I mean. He seems to have come home ready to Rock Salt Lake next!

Tonight we celebrated the completion of YEAR 9.

We first went to dinner at Little America. As we sat “looking over our menu” we reminisced about anniversaries past. “Can you even remember any of them?” Wyatt asked, “it doesn’t seem like we’ve done anything memorable.”

I then spouted off about each anniversary – what we did on the day, where we were living, what was going on in our lives, the gifts we exchanged. Wyatt pulled at his collar uncomfortably.

He said “I want to get you something special this year.” He explained it was our first year after “the five year plan.” The end of struggling and going without.

We then both laughed uproariously.

Instead we went to a movie.

So . . .

YEAR 9.

It almost deserves it’s own graphic sign.

We hunkered down. We watched the five year plan come to an end, and then watched as the economy, both macro and micro in our household, tightened. We raised our kids, we planted flowers, we built “the business,” and took on additional sources of revenue. We remodeled yet another house. We didn’t leave the state all year. We didn’t even hardly leave town other than a couple weekend trips to Manti. We discussed things of importance, and things that were nothing consequential. We cried occasionally. We laughed a lot. We did not hardly work on our own house projects, as per Christensen family goal 2010. We went to the rodeo, kept traditions alive. We taught Olivia to ride a bike, we took jumping pictures, we got Calvin keys, and then more keys. We watched as Everett grew before our eyes. We talked about our goals and dreams, and we content to live in the now.

Year 9 was a good one. Looking forward to year ten.

I’m thinking our back east road trip . . .

DearEST,

Today Olivia learned about dinosaurs at pre-school. She came home with a pill that “grew” into a dinosaur in water. She brought one home for Calvin too. That’s just like her to think of her brother and share with him.

In the meantime Calvin, Everett and I built the awesomEST blanket fort ever. It will be headquarters for our week o’ fun. After we picked up Baby Sunshine from school we hit the Post Office and mailed those rebates (told you I’d do it ) as well as a few pictures for my new internet friend Cindy. I should have more internet friends. Problem is my unfriendliness in real life translates in magnificitude (ha ha, I love that word. I totally just made that up. I know, I’m the coolEST) on the internet.

We made Place Mats like these - paper towels & contact paper

This afternoon we played outside and made place mats a’la these. Frescas Frijoles I say. They turned out pretty good, and Olivia was all too thrilled to color on them.

Then I fed the missionaries. I know, can I be any more on top of it? Lemon Chicken Pasta and Boston Cream Pie. Did you know that Boston Cream Pie is really good? I don’t think I’ve ever had it before. But alas I sent the leftovers home with the mish’s.

BECAUSE . . . we got mo’ junk at the store today – chocolate chips were on sale, so cookies it is for the week! And ice cream and bananas for banana splits. I stopped short of giant marshmallows to “roast” in the tent. We’re going to Par-Tay Calvin style.

Oh, and I daydreamed about Christmas . . . of course you’re not surprised by that. Speaking of which, off to do some internet searches for Christmas gifts. I’m thinking Mickey for SuperCal.

Love you, Miss you, You miss us ‘cuz we’re having mo’ fun. And yes, that was a little jab since you’re off on an international adventure, and I’m here watching Mickey Mouse Clubhouse for the kajillionth time.

-Anj

PS – In other exciting domestic news, it must be said: My new vacuum came today. I am the happiEST and the cleanEST, except that other than straightening up for the mish’s tonight, cleaning is not on my agenda this week.

Thursday night Carrie and I sat up talking, when suddenly we heard Everett crying from his room. Not just crying – screaming in a panicked sort of way. We jumped up to go to him. Poor boy, when I walked in his face was covered with something white. When I picked him up I smelled it. Vomit. Baby boy had thrown up all over himself. He then proceeded to vomit on me. Several hours later he finally settled down back to sleep.

The next morning we were supposed to drive out with the Smith’s to Manti. In light of Everett’s condition we slept in, then debated the trip. But then, how could we disappoint Calvin, who had been crying for three day’s straight waiting for the day we would “go to Manti.” Besides, we reasoned, we hadn’t really been anywhere all summer. We loaded up, and headed down.

Day one was spent in the shade of the Cottonwood next to the garden, talking about nothing important, letting the kids have run of the yard (and tractor, as was the case with Calvin). We ate pizza and watched TV and Olivia and I colored. Everett seemed better. No fever, no other symptoms to give alarm to illness. He was happy and content playing with each of us.

Of course that night the regurgitation returned. We cleaned him up, and put him back to bed. He did better the rest of the night.

The next morning Rick washed the lawn mower, I washed Cal’s bike; all in reaction to Calvin, who had tried to wash both with tire shine found off the back porch. Tire shine is goopy stuff. Still, Rick was gracious, and both came clean.

Later we all packed up for an afternoon drive in the mountains, and a picnic at the lake. Poor little Cal was so tired, he just begged to be carried everywhere. The weather was perfect, the views incredible. And Wyatt and Cal did a good job of not completely melting down.

That night Mike and Bret came down. Dinner was everything Labor Day weekend should be: Burgers and fresh veggies from the garden. Rootbeer floats and movies, and bed early for me because I had been up the night before with Everett.

Sunday really was  a day of rest. A little R&R, a walk, a few pictures, and more movies. Little Ev had a rough night Sunday night though. He threw up a couple times, and generally had a hard time sleeping. He survived, and I did too, though by Monday I was really dragging from the several sleepless nights.

Monday morning we didn’t do much. We packed and cleaned – the five of us can sure make a mess fast – and then headed North and back to real life.

The weekend was lovely. Thank you to the Smiths for the accommodations, entertainment, delectable cuisine, and general graciousness of us and our vomitous/mischievous children.