It's Official

Our two-year-old is finally two!
And nothing says "I'm TWO!" more than this picture.
At least the girls were happy.


Grant's first wish.
We have no idea what it was since he can't talk.
Although he has added some words to his repertoire:
Nemo (courtesy of cousin Ty),
Uh-Oh!,
Mine!, and
Ma-Ma (for Grandma; not to be confused with the Ma-Ma that means Mom).


Ice cream tastes better when you eat it with two spoons.
Just ask Tommy and Grant.


Grant loves to open presents.
(And for the record, Scotty wasn't mad, he just likes his hands on his face.)


Bubbles!
Dad's responsible for this toy.


Scooby euthanized, or, er, memorialized.RIP

Pinata Play-by-Play

A long time ago, I bought a pink pig pinata for Nicole's first birthday. She was too little to know how cool it was, but it evolved into a tradition and now Nicole insists we have a pinata at every kid birthday party in our family. No doubt Grant's hooked on the tradition now, too.

Spoiled Scotty

Since we arrived in Mesa, the only time Scott has spent sleeping in his bed has been on my watch (the nighttime hours).

On the Road Again

What better way to kick off 2008 than vacationing in Sunny Arizona?!
Highlights so far ...

1. Ten miles from If-I-Lived-Here-I'd Shoot-Myself, we had to pull over to burp Scotty. Clint found us the best rest stop around:

Nicole: Dad, what do those signs say?

Dad: Navajo Rugs, Pottery, and JUNK.

My favorite part is the jumbo "NICE INDIANS" sign.
(Should we have cause to doubt?)

2. Views from Tucson

A glimpse of the mountain range surrounding the valley.

The university hospital
(and crane to assist in building a new children's wing).

3. When we left Utah, it was 10 degrees outside, the skies were overcast, and we had to squint to keep the snow from blinding our eyes. This is Arizona in January and I'm not going home.

Living Dreams

When I was little, in between wanting to become a BYU cheerleader or a doctor, I thought it would be really cool to work as a National Geographic photographer. Actually, I still think that would be a neat job, but that's obviously not going to happen, seeing as I'm busy with much more important things now ... But perhaps Nicole will apply for that post in few years; she loves to take her camera everywhere and she finds interesting subjects, as you'll soon see.

Back when I was teaching at Weber State, Nicole and I would comment on the progress of the state capitol building renovations as we drove by twice a week. They started work in 2004 and finally reopened the building earlier this month. Today Nicole and her daddy went on a much anticipated self-guided tour.

Here's Nicole's National Geographic report of their day (with commentary from Mom):

Comfort
(Reminds me of those old fashioned leather shoes
that kids used to wear in Europe 100 years ago.)

Like a Rock (or a Beast)
a.k.a. Douglas's Truck Up Close and Personal
Man's Best Friend
(About this picture, Nicole says, "We went there twice!"
It's true, as confirmed by her driver. I repeat,
that's two times in one morning, ladies and gentlemen.)

My Dad
Don't worry, this expression is standard when driving,
or concentrating on something really important, like the History Channel

Abstract
($10 if you can guess what this is!)

A Street without a Country
(Look closely)
The Main Attraction
(The building or the girl?!)

Self Portrait
(It's enough to make van Gogh green with envy.)

Fallen Angel

What sort of evil demon has possessed my child? Seriously. Where do they come up with this stuff?

Grant found one of Nicole's elastics on the floor. And what started out as the best of intentions, turned into a full-blown disaster. Grant doesn't like certain things out of place, such as Barbie hair accessories. (On the contrary, other things he purposefully takes out of place and abandons.) So Grant ran to the bathroom with the elastic in hand. After 60 seconds, I heard the bathroom door shut ever-so-softly. After enjoying five minutes of silence and ignorant bliss, panic flashed through my mind and I darted to the bathroom to find this (notice the elastic didn't actually find its proper resting spot):Grant was so proud:My only consolation is how funny it will be to blackmail Grant with this "Rendez-Vous with Makeup" photo (that's what it will be known as in the book of life). Happy social life, baby. Paybacks will be coming in a few short years! (I'm not bitter or anything.)

Who's the Boss?

Tonight I've realized that I've been approaching Grant's bedtime routine all wrong. For example, normally I put him in his crib (I know he's quite large in stature to be lying in a crib, but he only has to wait four more months for the great transition!), lecture him about staying in his crib, leave the room, listen by the door and tell him to get back in his crib 38 times, and eventually he falls asleep. Sounds simple, I know, but when put into practice, this ordeal eats up 30 minutes of "Mommy's-finally-alone-time." Enter frustration.

So today, we tried Grant's method. Fifteen minutes after I thought he was asleep, Grant waltzed into the kitchen with a huge grin and a little giggle. Too tired to fight him, I let him play around. He didn't appear to be acting any worse than usual, and soon I forgot about naptime.

And this is how Grant ...at ...while eating ...

I figure I'm guaranteed a peaceful evening, but I'm not so sure how the night will go. I'm thinking that when 3:30 tomorrow morning rolls around, I might be feeding Scott and Grant.

And to think, all this time, I thought I was in charge!

Renaissance Man

I love having a baby with hair. It makes a child so versatile. Scott's career possibilities are endless! He wanted to pose for me today and he loved every minute of it. It didn't feel like any form of torture at all. In fact, we might as well add "male model" to the top of our potential job list for Scott. But strong contenders also include ...

The Spikester
A.K.A. punk teenager. Let's hope this is a short phase.

The 80s Wannabe Mohawk
Heaven help us.

The Slimy Car Salesman (no offense, Daddy)
Slicked-back hair and sinister eyes tell all. This guy can't be trusted further than you can throw a stick.

The Retiree
With the comb over, wrinkles and droopy cheeks, Scott will have no problems transitioning from
a structured 9-to-5 to the relaxed world of assisted living. He can even fall asleep sitting up.

Just pondering the options can be exhausting. So at the end of the day, when Scott's tired of trying to be all of these people he's not, he can nestle up in a soft blanket and simply be a baby. My baby.

Don't Ask, Don't Tell

Can't imagine who did this during "naptime"/make-Mom-crazy-time ... (At least he put them back, right?)

My "Mom" Cut

I hate it when people get their hair cut right after having a baby. As if being a new mom (all over again) isn't enough to cause an identity crisis. But here I am, indulging in hypocrisy and self-loathing as I think about what I have just done.

My stylist calls it "sassy."

I call it "too short."

Clint calls it "what-the-heck-were-you-thinking?!"

The Way to Mom's Heart ...

... and out of bed!

A couple of weeks ago, I picked out an outfit that would have looked really cute with Grant's U of Utah hat. Figuring there was no way he would actually keep it on, I decided against "hat hair" for the day and ran a brush and gel over his scalp instead.

Later on that day, Grant was scheduled for a long afternoon nap. He had different plans. Instead of lying still, staring at the ceiling, and waiting for his eyelids to become so heavy that he could no longer keep them open, he came frolicking out of his bedroom at least ten times -- all in attempts to avoid, or at least stall, bedtime. On the 11th time (or so), before leaving the room, Grant found his red hat, put it on just right, and strutted his stuff down the runway, er, hallway to show off his new look. It was so adorable that instead of yelling at him, I just laughed.

Apparently he remembered the incident because he pulled it again today. Equally stunning, he posed while I took his pictures and giggled after each shot was fired.

In the end, Grant still had to take his nap, but he accomplished what he set out to do: delay bedtime.

My Helper

Here's one of *many* advantages to bottle-feeding.

Two Brothers

Acclimation

From a soothing atmosphere of 98.6 degrees Fahrenheit to 20 with a wind chill, Utah is taking its wrath out on poor Scotty. One day, when Scotty is much older, wiser and living in a warmer climate, he'll reminisce, "I couldn't take one more cold winter! I just had to escape!"

Good thing he can't talk yet. (And if he follows in Grant's footsteps, it'll be many more years before he can complain about freezing his nose off while his siblings went sliding down the slopes.)

Out in the Cold

Notice any similarities?

Another Picture from a Budding Photographer

I told Nicole to grab her camera. Quick! At least she captured the most important element -- Scotty sucking his thumb.

It took Nicole four months to master her thumb after she was born, but Scott's been sucking his thumb/fingers/clothes that happen by his mouth since we brought him home from the hospital. I hope that doesn't mean the addiction will be more difficult to break later on. Eeek!

Please Cut My Hair

My mom says Scott can't have his hair cut yet because he's just a baby. I have never known my mom to advocate "long" hair for a boy, so that's why I'm so confused. Sure it's silky, fun to stroke and beautiful, but it belongs on a girl. Or a clown. ("Homey don't play dat!")

Speaking of clowns, take a trip down memory lane with the funniest from Sunday night television.

For Our Long-Distance Relatives

This is about the only time we can get the little guy to make any noise. Guess he hates being cold as much as his mama does!

History Repeating

When it comes to keeping the babies out of the Vaseline tub, I'm batting zero. I still can't figure out why they spread it on their face.

Jan 2005 -- Nicole at 2 yrs.

Jan 2008 -- Grant at 2 yrs.

Found!

I don't believe it! As an effort in futility, we asked Grant where Nicole's toothbrush and toothpaste had been cached. Then we (even Dad) searched all of Grant's usual hiding spots -- to no avail. We finally gave up and convinced Nicole that she needed a new toothbrush anyway. As for the toothpaste, mint would have to work for today.

Nicole will be so happy when she comes home from school!

Advantages to Being a Student

As newlyweds seven short years ago, Clint and I both enrolled in our final semester of school. I foolishly believed we were done. Now here we are, approaching medical school graduation and living in very tight quarters on campus. It's not the direction I imagined our conjoined lives to follow.

The married student life, however, has been surprisingly pleasant and has passed rather quickly. It has a few disadvantages, which I don't care to address, but it also has many positive aspects. Most forefront in my mind today is the flexible schedule of a senior medical student. Clint has never had so much time off before. I think it has the potential to drive him secretly crazy (you know how he's a worker bee), but it also permitted us to leave the hospital with Scotty and drive directly to Grandma and Papa's for a few days.

As a result, my transition to three kids was greatly buffered, Clint got to work with his bullets and play in the garage, Grant and Nicole were spoiled (to the brink of rotten) and the amount of people to shower Scotty with love doubled tripled.

In the end, and somewhat unrelated to student status, everything associated with Scotty's birth turned out well (excluding the initial problems with the epidural -- eek!). Clint was actually in town; I didn't have to share a room on the postpartum floor (believe me -- big concern!); Scotty's mini body was healthy and ready to join his siblings at the grandparents' place in less than 48 hours; Nicole finally got to give Scott a real kiss and hug (she's been hugging my belly for months); and Grant warmed up to his new brother, even sharing his prized black Buster bunny with Scott. (OK, he actually threw it at Scott, but it's the thought that counts. He's two, give him a break.)

I Love My Visitors

Many friends have come to visit the family (of course there was no extrinsic motivation to see Scotty or anything like that) during the past week bearing glad tidings and wonderful gifts.

But the best gift has been the friends themselves. Each person wore a giant smile and stayed for a real chat. They have been the highlights between chasing Grant (now sadly nicknamed Monster Boy -- don't ask!), looking for Nicole's toothbrush (we're back to that Monster Boy thing) and holding Scotty (whilst pretending I have absolutely no other obligations in the world).

Thanks for giving your time!

Please Accord Me Political Sanctuary

It's rare that I delve into political commentary, even though I follow news events very closely. And it's also rare that I favor initiating international violence. However, Iran has clearly overstepped their bounds (twice) and I must opine.

First Offense
When the US Naval ships saw small boats approaching and heard a man speaking in heavily accented English threaten, "I am coming to you. ... You will explode after ... minutes," they should have opened fire immediately. It's akin to the logic in Ben Stiller's monologue "You can't say bomb on an airplane" in Meet the Parents. You likewise cannot threaten to blow up a foreign army, namely American forces, without expecting to be annihilated first. I understand the U.S.'s attempts to keep peace, but this should not have been tolerated. It makes the U.S. look weak and vulnerable.

Second Offense
As could have been predicted, word of a confrontation spread to the media like wildfire. Iran's response? "The footage released by the U.S. Navy was compiled using file pictures and the audio has been fabricated," an official in Iran's Revolutionary Guards was quoted as saying by the state-run English-language channel Press TV (credit to FoxNews). Shockingly, Iran offered no basis for the suspicion of fabrication, but I wonder if the U.S. had blown up their rickety boats that lowered boxes into the international waters, would they have still claimed that we fabricated an attack? Of course not. They were trying to provoke the U.S. They would have cried victim and launched phony grounds for a counter-attack.

Yea, Pres. Bush!
In response to this whole fiasco, Pres. Bush stated, "There will be serious consequences if they attack our ships" (also credit to Fox). Bravo, but I want to know why this provocation wasn't considered an attack and why this wasn't our policy all along.

The Future of Foreign Policy
I hope the U.S. takes the initiative to stand up and protect our troops (100+ would have been killed had Iran actually "blown up" the three carriers) and our pride, even if it means attacking first. Iran, nor any other country, should not be permitted to "test the waters" (pun intended) without receiving a major blow to their cowardly forces. Long live the home of the brave!

Baby Weight

It's 12:30 pm and as far as food is concerned, I've only managed to scrimp enough time to shove a handful of Skittles in my mouth. I knew that third-time moms were busy, but this is ridiculous. I can honestly say that I was not adequately forewarned (not that I would changed my mind, of course, because I'm stubborn like that).

The good news is that while I'm not yet back to normal-me physically, I'm starting to feel like me. I always eat candy in place of meals. Even for breakfast. Even when I have time. Even when I have the choice to eat something better (and healthier). At this rate, I hope to fit back into my pre-Scott jeans eventually, which is something I was beginning to worry might never happen.

I once heard a theory that if someone, somewhere loses weight, another person in the universe must gain that weight -- thus maintaining an equal amount of weight on the planet at all times. (Absurd, I know, because with the increase in worldwide population, that would mean we would weigh an average of 12 pounds each -- but I digress.) So, suppose this theory were true, then in a few weeks' time, I'll be me again and Scotty will be fatty. And then everyone will be happy.

Thus goes the baby (and mommy) weight.

Our New Toy

Peek-a-Boo!

Little Papoose.

Chicken legs.

"Give me food or I'll ... I'll .. I'll eat my fingers!"

"Yeah, and my thumb, too!"