blow a kiss

blow a kiss
Originally uploaded by rarely home mom.

My view from the kitchen window this morning.

Meet Tioga

Tioga is the 11 week old pup who joined our family yesterday. His name comes from Tioga Pass, in and near Yosemite, one of our very favorite places on earth. I'm thrilled, Nathan is excited (it's his first pet) and Jacob thinks it's his birthday. Again. Josh is reserving judgement, until he knows how to make one. Tioga is mostly lab with a little suprise thrown in. His mom is full black lab, and the dad was thought to be full chocolate lab. When the puppies were born, they obviously had a splash of "not-lab-surprise". Tioga was one of eight pups and headed to the pound after his mom's owner placed six of the litter-mates and was done dealing with the pups. We're so excited to have him! Except for the potty-training (especially at 2 am!) and puppy-training, which I am remembering is harder than child-traning/proofing.

u-pick farms in Utah

Does anyone know of anywhere in Utah I can go pick my own produce? Salt Lake and Utah counties would be most convienent, but I'll drive a little bit. Thanks for any help - I'm having a hard time finding anything on Google.

a very good excuse for this first picture

Yes, those are my feet. Frightening, isn't it? Well. Here in Utah, these people celebrate the state's birthday with all the sha-bang of the 4th of July. It's a state holiday - everyone gets the day off. There are picnics and parades and fireworks. Oh boy, are there fireworks. I knew this, but since I'd never been here on July 24th, Pioneer Day, I had totally forgotten. Every time we drove by an empty fireworks booth during the middle of July I kept thinking, "take those down already!" It was starting to grate a little bit like Christmas lights still on a house in February. Then when the installer for the last piece of our kitchen counter came over last week and told us all about "that Mormon Day - July 24th", I remembered. And I got excited. Fireworks! Legal fireworks! In front of my own house! We got busy that weekend and never made it to a stand to buy any. And I was fine with it. After all, we're not moving again for a long time. We'll be here for more July 4ths and July 24ths. Then, Monday night, the 24th, I was doing dishes and watching this horrible show I had on to keep it from being silent in the house and having to listen to my own head. It was on TLC, I think, and called 1 Week to Save Your Marriage. I remember listening, horrified that people created and then stayed in marriages so mean and sad and unhappy. Horrified that people go on national TV and let everyone in the world see inside their unhappiness, see their meanness first hand. Right when I was thinking that, Nathan called. He was in Albertsons, wondering what aisle to find matches on. He knew I had really wanted fireworks, so he stopped at the booth near our house on the way home, and then got some more at the grocery when he went to get matches. And I thought "everyone should have such a thoughtful, kind husband." And they should. But that's not what this story is about. We're talking about those feet in the picture above. Wearing socks AND flip flops. (Remember the old days when flip flops were "thongs" because "thongs" just weren't "thongs" yet? Anyhoo...) As it started getting dark we went outside and started setting up our own personal pyro display. I was getting bit by mosquitos. Bad. After five minutes, I couldn't take it anymore. I was spending more time hitting mosquitos off my body than I was setting up the fireworks. With one last swat I hit a mosquito and came away with a handful of my own blood. Time for plan B. Plan B was me wearing sweats, a sweatshirt, socks and flip flops (couldn't find the tennis shoes quick) in 85+ degree weather. Cute, wasn't it? That terrible outfit made it possible for these: By the way, I have no final count on the bites. I counted up to 16 on one leg and 18 on the other, and that's just between my knees and ankles. And then I decided to quit counting, because I just didn't want to know. The number doesn't include the bites I got later that night through my clothes, or the bites on my feet, hands, arms or head before I covered up. Yes, I bought bug juice the next day. Ewwww... (and scratch).

settled. or settled?

With previous moves and purchases, I have always kept the boxes of my more valuable or breakable objects. Most of my vases have been stored in their original boxes, as was the crystal and china we received for our wedding. Serving trays and serving bowls? Same story. The griddle has its box. So does the crock pot. It's because, every time I moved, I knew it was temporary. I moved to the San Francisco area after college in May 1999. One year later, I moved closer to work. Only about 20 miles - but I moved. Two years later, I moved into a house in the same city. About a year and a half later I moved a couple miles away (again) when I got married. We stayed in that first married apartment just four days short of one year. We moved into our condo (only about 5 miles away from that first married apartment) in March 2003 and stayed there until July 2005. I move. A lot. Seven years. Five residences. (I read that and wonder, if I dislike the moving process as much as I claim to, why make so many volunatry moves?) If you receive a change of address card from me in the next week (or whenever I manage to get to the post office and buy stamps), please feel free to ink our information in, instead of using pencil. We're [planning on] staying here for at least 10 years. Which is why I decided to recycle all the boxes for all of my valuables/breakables. We have room for these things in proper cabinets in this house; none of the china or crystal will be stashed in dark closests here. And we're staying. So there's no point in keeping boxes. Right? It's very interesting, and slightly uncomfortable, for me to realize that we will be settling here. This will be a long-term home. But why am I uncomfortable? We love our house, and I think our neighborhood will turn out to be fantastic. The town (yikes! I live in a town) is quaint *but growing* and homey. It's a nice place. But every time I unpacked more kitchen things, I kept looking over at Nathan. "I should throw away the box, right?" "Still throwing away the boxes. Okay?" "Are you sure I should throw away these boxes?" He was patient and sweet and very confused. 1) They're JUST boxes! Buy NEW if you need them! 2) We are settling. It's OKAY.

Still wondering why they didn't name her Julie...

I'm, um..."borrowing" Nathan's blackberry quickly to jump online and give a virtual SQUEEZE to my friend Rebecca. She just became a mommy (again) through adoption to a beautiful daughter with a beautiful name. Norah was born on Saturday and got to join her family very soon after. I'm SO excited for their family!! (We'll have internet hooked up by tomorrow afternoon - yeah! See you soon!) p.s. I'm in love with my kitchen. It's tempting not to bring the mattress downstairs to sleep in here.

and so, I bid you adieu...for as few days as possible

We shall sleep tonight in the new house! The new house where approx. 2/3 of our belongings now reside, put there by Nathan and myself yesterday. And then we got hungry and it started raining, and I said "we are done!" Plus, the other stuff? It is heavy. Anyhow. The new house does not currently have internet. And because we live somewhere referred to as "rural" that is *so* not rural as of several weeks ago, when the houses started flying up faster than you can even believe (seriously, every hour - I swear that is not too large of an exaggeration - there is a new foundation being poured or a crane attaching a new roof somewhere else or a house being framed that was just dirt 10 - ten! - minutes earlier), it is hard to find internet service. See here, #4. Or don't, because I just told you the exact same thing here. Anyway, what shall I do without internet and tv service? Unpack? Good grief, no. P.S. to anyone who blogs on blogger - did your tool bar mysteriously shrink to almost nothing very recently as well? I can now only bold, italic, link, quote, spell check and add pictures. And we who use blogger all know what kind of attitude that little "add picture button" possess. (I think it is a cousin of the Soup Nazi.) I'm telling you, the threat to move to wordpress just got stronger (kind of like my muscles from moving all that stuff out of the pod!). But really - did blogger change on everyone else, too? Know, that upon my return, I have pictures to post. See you soon! (I really, really hope.)

warm jacob fuzzies

The Scene: putting Jacob to bed, he's on his makeshift couch/bed about 10 feet behind me; I am sitting in the same room, at the desk working on the computer Jacob: Mommy, I love you. Me: I love you, Jacob. J: Mommy! I squirt Grandma. I squirt Grandpa. I squirt Stacy. I squirt Grandma Gerry. (he's remembering what he did at my parents house 2ish weeks ago - pretty good memory!) M: I know, Jacob. That was fun, wasn't it. J: (laughs) Yes. Fun. Squirting. Mom! I have choo-choo trains. Boxcar. Tank car. (he's holding a box car and tank car of Nathan's he saved from the trash on moving day) M: You like your trains, don't you, Jacob. J: I love trains, Mommy. M: (I go and sit next to him, because he's being cute and being nice and I'm quite enjoying him at this point) Mom's going to give you a kiss. Kiss me back? J: Kiss mom! I love you, mom. Cubber up? M: Yes, Jakey. I'll cover you up. J: Mommy, no monkeys in the tree. And no monkeys on the bed jumping. M: You're right! No monkeys jumping on the bed! J: Ah. Jumping on the bed. No monkeys. (big laughing)Daddy, where is? Daddy on airplane? M: Daddy was on an airplane yesterday. And Daddy will get on an airplane tomorrow to come home to us. J: Daddy on airplane! I like airplanes, mom. Airplanes fly sky. M: They sure do. What do airplanes say? J: (spits all over me - I guess I asked for it) Mommy? I like milk. I like juice. I like waffles. I like nogurt. I like tacos. I like bubbles. Read train magazine? (I get him the train magazine) J: Ah! A caboose! A train magazine! I love you, Mommy. A kiss? M: You've got it, Jacob. (smooch) I really, really love you. J: I love you, Mommy Mommy. I love you. Being a mom is the best thing in the universe.

Randomnity, Part 2

1 - Apparently, when you fill out the on-line form for the post office where you pay $1 and request they forward your mail to your new address, there is someone who receives the e-mail, sees this:

asd;kfjads;kfjs;adljf asd;lkfja;ldkfj as;dfljads;lkfjads

instead of the request, and pockets the $1, with a trip to dollar night at Baskin Robbins in mind. At least, that's what has seemed to happen in our situation. Wee! If I don't get a bill, do I still have to pay it? 2 - I am condsidering taking Jake and Josh to the movies tomorrow. Alone. Please stop laughing. Thank you. It's only $1, so I figure that if it's a disaster, we at least get to spend 10 minutes in a really cold, dark room. And if it's a success, we will spend 1 1/2 hours in a cold, dark room. Cold. Hallelujah. If you would like to take your children to a cold, dark room for free or super cheap, click here. You're bound to find at least one theatre nearby. The last time I went to the movies was about 2 weeks ago, with my sister. It was about 287 degrees outside when we entered the theatre at 7:30 pm. It was SO cold during the movie that we were praying it would be 412 degrees outside when we exited. It wasn't. Surprise! It was more like 80 something at 9:30 pm. And still not hot enough to defrost. I never thought I would look back at that experience longlingly. Fortunately, no limbs were lost. 3 - I have learned that when a city gives a home builder a "certificate of occupancy" it does not actually mean that a house is complete or clean. Funny how that works. Who needs the rest of their kitchen countertops installed anyway? Silly, silly. 4 - Also! Because we're new construction, it is very difficult (which may soon turn into impossible) to find someone to provide our home with high-speed internet. My husband works from home! When he's not traveling, that is. Hey - did you know my husband works from home? In the field of technology? Where high-speed internet is crucial? He does. It is. We are...screwed. Because of that, you may miss posts on this blog for a week or so. Or until I secure a library card. And hopefully they have internet access. 5 - I shall end with this thought...when you get tired of rolling your eyes at these posts, you have the option to click that little red X box up at the top of your screen. But me? Not an option. Consider that. Also, consider this. Driving from San Francisco to Los Angeles, Nathan and I had to caravan with both the cars. The person driving in the Civic would have to make the trip without a radio. The person driving the mini-van would have both children in the car. I begged, pleaded and groveled to drive the mini-van. What? 7 1/2 hours in a car with 2 small children? Voluntarily? Oh, yes. Because having to drive in a car with nothing but my own brain for company? I would rather have my eyeballs tattooed.

This is *almost* enough to get me to quit swearing in my head

Why would I quit swearing in my head? Because if it's this hot here:

(On the way to Target)

(On the way home from Target)

how hot is it in hell? And swearing...probably not the way to get the free ticket to heaven. And while I'm not exactly looking for a free ticket to the good place in the sky, we all know I don't like paying full price for anything. So at least a discount ticket to heaven would be nice. Do you think they have those at Wal-Mart? The Wal-Mart Supercenter with milk and pedicures? For the record - the last time I swore in my head was Saturday, while checking out at the Costco. Because wow. Just, wow. And Nathan was there, and I looked at him after I saw the total, and I said "I just cussed in my head." And he, of course, said "Juuuulie". For the record, I *never* swear out loud. But? The last time I swore out loud was this afternoon. In the Target parking lot. Because I put Josh in the front seat of the cart (padded with one of those super nifty padded-cart-germ-protector things that's kind of like this), and turned to get Jacob out out of his car seat. But when I turned back around to put Jacob in the big part of the cart until we got inside, the cart had gone down a hill that was just slight enough for me not to notice was even a hill, and was about 6...7...8 - RUN! cars away. For the record - it's not that I like swearing. In fact, the silly quote about how people swear because they can't think of more intelligent words to substitute? I believe it. And also, Jacob repeats everything. Which means that my most convienent swear word, crap, is also off limits. And? If I didn't know the entire United States lookied like this: I would think the hot weather was following me. While we packed up our condo in CA, it was 108. AND - our air conditioner broke. Isn't that just the best timing ever for an air conditioner to break? Just after the home inspection and about 4 days before we moved out. Sweet! Expensive! Over! Thank goodness. Shall we return to talking about the hot? I am done with it. It was hot while we were packing. Hot while we were moving. Hot at the in-laws, hot at my parents. Hot here in Utahr. And I am ready for the snow. But please? Do not remind me of that when the first blizzard appears in October. Thanks kindly. And now, I shall clean our "apartment" so I can rest without anxiety while I watch The Closer. Because I just love that show. And cleanliness. And the lack of anxiety. To close on an extra-wonderful note, Jacob and Josh (and Nathan on the side). Notice the amount of effort in Jacob's face in the last picture (the lawn mower was a gift for Jacob's 2nd birthday from my parents - home run). He was mimicing Dad a little too exactly, don't you think? And Josh? He's just as perfect as they come.

Go Jacob; It's your birthday

Happy birthday, Jacob!

Do you remember that Jacob couldn't decide if he was four or five? From an earlier post: Jacob will not be turning 2 this month. We've been teaching him to answer "2" when asked "how old are you?" And for the past month or so, Jacob has been right on like a trained seal to answer what we want him to, on cue. Yesterday, Nathan asked him how old he was, and Jacob replied that he was four. "No, Jacob. You're two. Can you say 2?" Nathan tried again. Same answer. One last try: "How old are you, Jacob?" "Okay. Five." I think I get his thought process. On June 29th we were at Nathan's parents. It was Nathan's birthday, but we had a combined birthday party. In Jacob's head, he turned 2 on June 29th. Then, on July 7th, we were at my parents. Another party. Cake, ice cream and more presents! I guess he turned 3 at this party. (I warned my mom that her ugly cupcake pans would be featured here. Sad, aren't they? Her birthday is later this month. Maybe she needs this?) And finally. Finally! July 14th. His actual 2nd birthday, where Jacob thinks he turned 4. A good day. We went to Farm Country at Thanksgiving Point where we mingled with many a farm animal and Jacob got to ride a horse/pony. Twice. More cake, more ice cream, more presents. At least this time, we made "helfy cupcakes" (1 box cake mix, chocolate + 1 - 15 oz can pure pack pumpkin + some water...1/4 to 1/3 cup) that were just as yummy as the real deal. Happy 2nd/3rd/4th Birthday, Jacob. I hope that all your wishes come true. (Except the caboose in the back yard.)

We went into Wal-Mart for milk...

...and came out with a pedicure (me) and a full set (sister-in-law). Things I learned today: 1 - what a "full set" is in manicure-speak 2 - that I still get freakishly giddy at the Super Wal-Marts cheap prices on food 3 - what wheat looks like. 4 - that my husband and sister-in-law were awed that I had not known what wheat looked like. 5 - that a vita-mix will ensure you live to be 397 years old. Just ask the demonstrater. 6 - that finally owning above mentioned vitamix, after pining for the thing for quite some time, is really as great as I thought it would be Wheat, anyone?

at the bank yesterday

The bank teller was so nice. Ultra nice. And she was taking awhile to do her task for me so we chit-chatted. She found out we were moving to Utah. She asked where. She asked why. She asked if I had children. "Yes. Two boys. One turns 2 today and the other is almost 5 months." And that's when the ultra-nice teller turned into the you've-got-to-be-kidding-me teller. She actually pushed her glasses down a bit on her nose, turned to me and said something like "wow. That's incredibly close," with a tone of "I bet that was an oops, wasn't it?" thrown in for fun. "They are close. Almost 19 months apart. It's great!" I had to giggle to myself, because she wasn't even close. It's hard to "oops" an adoption.

(Jacob reading to Josh)

A look back

(I wrote this post last night, but blogger wouldn't let me add photos. This is happening so frequently, I'm getting more antsy to ditch blogger. Anyhoo, it finally let me do the photos tonight. So here. And you get the post intended for today tomorrow. Probably.)

We're upon the eve of Jacob's 2nd birthday. And I've just had a blast going through some pictures as he's lying about five feet away from me, (not) going to bed. Jacob at 20 minutes old: The family shot at a couple hours old: Birthday pics 2005:

At his "party" with the 3 playgroup friends:

His 1st birthday cake - I had a lot of fun making this:

His 2 year old pic coming tomorrow (if he cooperates!)!

Oh, no. They didn't.

I was looking on our new city's website to find out info about who to call for garbage service and whatnot. And I found a grammatical error that makes me want to crawl out of my skin. When asked what services the city provides, the answer was: "all services accept your gas and phone". No, no, no, no, no. Just - no. And just as I was falling in love with our new little town/city.

You know me. Who are YOU?

Simple question. My site meter keeps going up, yet the comments are stagnant. SO - if you're a reader who has never commented, or maybe you commented once a long time ago, would you please drop a quick comment just to say "Hi! I'm [insert your name here] and once in awhile, I read your blog!"? That would be lovely. Thank you ever so much. XOX Julie

Me (Won't Ever) Talk Utahn One Day

This:

is a "fark".

This:

is a "jell". This: is the state of "Utahr". The thing on top of the house: it is a "ruff".

People who go here:

are "Marmens".

I totally know that not all Utahns speak this way. The grandparents do for sure. And my husband's cousins (who are young) do, too. Soooo....there.

Two years ago today

Two years ago today, I went into labor. Please note the date: July 11. Jacob was born on July 14, after 75 hours of labor. If you're a pregnant, first time mom, you may not want to read this. Be warned. My contractions started on Sunday, July 11 at noon. They were 15 minutes apart. I didn't tell Nathan what was happening because I didn't want him to get all excited if nothing was going to happen. We went to church, but only stayed the hour + for sacrament meeting because I was getting more and more uncomfortable, and the contractions were still regular. Fast forward to 10 pm. Nathan now knew what the deal was. The contractions were between 5 and 7 minutes apart. We expected to go to the hospital around midnight. I remember lying on the couch thinking that "hey! This hurts, but I might totally be able to get through labor - without pain meds. I'm tough, I can do this!" Re: the toughness that is me:This is me on July 3, 2004, at 38 weeks and 2 days pregnant, in the middle of an 8ish mile hike, the last mile that was JOGGED. "Insane" could easily replace "tough". Anyhoo...Monday in the late afternoon (July 12) we finally went to the hospital. I was hurting very badly and my contractions were out of control. I had gone through the entire pregnancy swearing I would not be one of "those" women who were sent home from the hospital because their labor was so early. Ha. Ha. Ha. I was only a 2. My contractions were still 5 minutes apart. The nurse didn't care. She told me to "take a Tylenol PM, and hang in there!" I cried the entire way home, contracting the whole way. By the way - it was a 40ish minute drive to and from the hospital, and we passed 3 others on the way. By the way - Tylenol PM is a joke in situations like these. After 24 more very, very difficult hours, I decided to go back to the hospital again. The decision was made about 4 am on July 14th, and I didn't care if they sent me home again. I just wanted them to give me enough pain meds to let me sleep for a few hours first. But surprise! A wonderful young nurse named Geraldine (same name as my paternal grandmother) let me stay! I was *almost* a 3! And even better - she raced another nurse, pushing another patient back, to get me my epidural right away. I love her still. The hospital labor wasn't much better. I still couldn't sleep - not even a nap with the pain meds. I was stuck at a 6 for 3 hours and when I heard the nurses whisper "possible c-section" in the hall I absolutely freaked out. This much labor to have a section? Now I have all my senses about me, and am removed from the experience, I strongly believe that the best labor and birth experience to have is the one that ends in a healthy mom and baby - drugs/no drugs, vaginal/C-section - whatever ends in two healthy people is all that matters. But at the time, a C-section freaked me out. Jacob was born at 2:50 pm on Wednesday, July 14th, after only 15 minutes of pushing, 74 hours and 50 minutes after my labor started. But you'll have to wait until July 14th for those pictures.

Adoption. And Talking. And Talking about Adoption.

(ok - not the best family picture ever, but taken on Fathers Day, this is the most recent) So. In California, our transracial family didn't get too many stares when we were out in public. Or in private. (Hee hee. Because staring at myself in private? Not so fun.) I, in fact, had many people make comments that led me to realize they thought that both Jacob and Josh were my biological children. In fact, one lady at the post office came up to me and made a comment along the lines of "you show 'em how it's done, sister!" And I giggled, because it was funny. But. We've been in Utah for three whole days. Not even 3! And the stares? A lot more than three! It does not bother me one bit that people are silently oohing and aahing at my children, which is what - I am sure - is happening. The children, they are adorable. (consult above picture for photographic evidence) But I feel odd being stared at. Even on my/our wedding day I felt oddly uncomfortable being the center of attention. Anyhow. This will probably be something I will need to get used to quickly. The good part of the looks: we get to talk about adoption. A lot. The good part of that: I love adoption. I love talking. Talking about adoption? Party! [Sidenote about the love of talking: My friend Rebecca and I were talking on the phone for only the 3rd or so time last week. I adore her. I wish we were next-door neighbors. [Sidenote to the side note: Dear Rebecca, Does that fact that I get slightly giddy when I get to call you "friend" freak you out? Because I am not a stalker, I swear. Even though I'm not supposed to swear. Love, Julie P.S. Does the fact that I ended the note to you with "love" freak you out? I'm not a stalker, remember? p.p.s. I'm about to quote some of our phone conversation...hope that's ok.] Back to the original sidenote: My friend Rebecca made a comment on the phone that "hey! We're almost like twins! We're both LDS and we both have 1 bio kid and 1 adopted kid and one is white and one is black, BUT", she said "I am the twin that talks more." Dear Rebecca, it is because I'm slightly shy upon first "meeting" someone and because you had the benefit of my being slightly polite at the same time that you got more words in. We are officially over the shy/polite stage. Prepare to be out-talked. Talk soon! Julie] So! We have established! I talk. A lot. And - I've been though quite a lot in terms of adoption experiences in just a short 18 months. SO. When we had one woman approach us at our new favorite restaurant in Cedar City on Saturday night I was excited! Someone wanted to talk to me! About adoption! See, it would be kind of hard for our family to pretend that one member of our family is not adopted. So it makes us easy "targets" for the topic. And yesterday, when we had to stop and get new tires in Beaver, Utah, the guy putting the tires on our car started talking to Nathan about adoption. They have 2 bio kids and are looking into adopting their 3rd child and wanted more information. And I was happy to listen and talk and share. I even gave him my e-mail for him to pass along to his wife and oh, how I hope she uses it. A new friend to talk to. About adoption! So. In closing (finally) - while getting looked at is going to take me a little getting used to (duh, Julie - they're not looking at you anymore...), I love the opportunities that our colorful family has already had to talk and share and educate people around us about the blessing adoption can be. And I just realized I have a whole lot more to say about the "educating" people about adoption. but, lucky, you - that will wait for another post.

This is the Place

We drove from Cedar City to northern-ish Utah yesterday (stopping for new tires along the way - wheee!). Before we got to my sister-in-laws house, where we're camping out until the house is done, we stopped at the new house. We got out, looked around, and were generally very happy with what we saw. True, it's not my dream house. There are about 417 things I would have changed if we would've gotten in on this deal earlier. But we will be very happy there. Plus, the kitchen? It is pretty. Which makes me very happy. We got back in the car to drive the 15 minutes to my sil's house, and my tears, they started flowin'. Non-stop. It was brought on by wondering "what on earth have we done and how on earth can we undo it?" Will we like the house? Is it the right house to raise our family in? And why -oh why - did we buy a house with only 3 bedrooms, an unfinished basement, a yard that's just dirt with no fence and on and on and on. And will I make friends? Will this small-but-growing (Nathan does not let me forget the "but-growing" part) town fit me? Will the schools be good enough and will my husband's traveling be too much? And WHERE is the closest Target and WHY isn't it a Super Target? See - I had serious worries. And I sat in the car crying as Nathan and Jacob were waiting for a train (it's true - in our family, a big "hobby" is chasing trains; I read books on these adventures...lots of books) - the trains that you can hear a little too well from our house - and Nathan looked at me and his eyes told me this: "Oh, crap." Because, really - it's a little too late to hit Control+Z (undo). And as a smart husband, he wants me happy. Now, about 16 hours after my little freak out, I'm better. I think the reality of "ohmygosh-we-just-sold-our-piece-of-CA- and-moved-to-Utah-what-was-I-thinking" set in. And I know what I was thinking. I was thinking that I get to live in a beautiful new home, and spend more quality time with my entire husband, since his work schedule will be much more family friendly. I was thinking that I have a river! and a trail! in my backyard. Fantastic. I was thinking that my children get to grow up in a neighborhood with grass and other children and might even get to walk to school. I was thinking that this is were God wants us to be for now, and so this is where we've come. Plus? These mountains are very short drive away: It's a good thing.

It was a dark and stormy day...

(lots o' pics: click on any to enlarge) Dear Internet, Please save me from my two-year-old. No, I'm not kidding. No, I'm not being funny. I am a very tired, very exasperated mother. Jacob can be the funniest, wittiest, cutest kid on earth - no joke. He's incredibly smart and stinkin' adorable. But even when our life is on "normal" and our schedules are...on schedule - he still has his 2 year old break downs. So just imagine what he's been doing now that we've been nomadic for almost 2 full weeks. I am suffering, Internet. The screeching, the kicking, the jumping, the demanding, the bossing, the yelling, the arguing. It is out of control. Tonight the screaming/screeching was brought on by this train ride: The meltdown probably lasted more than 30 minutes. And for 20+ we were in the car. For 10+, we had very curious onlookers. Generally, I've learned to pay no mind to the onlookers. But to the on-looker yesterday at Westside Pavillion who turned to my kid and screamed "Gosh, Kid! Shut the he!! up. You are SO! obnoxious!" while her own 3ish year old was sitting righ next to her? I kid not - she screamed at my kid to try to get him to stop screaming. I paid her mind. I even quit disciplining Jacob because I was mad at said on-looker, and silently wished Jacob would let out his loudest, shrillest screech yet. Anyhow, going to the park, the beach, walks, etc? They're not fun anymore. Because I know that at the end of every fun field trip I will have to deal with the screaming and screeching since Jacob is mad that his fun is over. I'm at my wits end. I have this book. I bought it a few months ago. I suppose it would be prudent to actually read the book. In other news! Exciting news! We spent time in 4 different states today: I started the morning thinking that oh! my! wouldn't it be fun to do a photo diary of our day? And then I decided to spare you, because, really - the drive from LA to Utah? It is a whole lot of this: And how fun would that be to see? But this I will share. Baker, CA has the worlds largest thermometer. I got only a fair picture. I'll give you an idea of what our drive was like today.

The above picture says 11:45

Our car read 107. But on this, the world's biggest thermometer? 111. Let's call it 109 and call it even. (the thermometer is the huge stick in the middle of the badly taken picture)

The good news about today? We're spending the night in the town I finished my college education at. Ever since we made the hotel reservations last night, I was almost giddy to come back. I loved it here. I loved the town, I loved the college, I loved my friends and my professors and almost everything about being here. And we came back, and drove through the town (which, quite honestly, looks like it has doubled since I graduated in 1999) and I thought "this? This is what I loved?" because it's a small town. And I'm a big city girl. I grew up in LA - the real LA (I hated it when I'd meet people in college and they would announce they were from "LA" but really lived about 2 hours away. Also? I hated it when people called it "Cali". Do not call it "Cali".) in Westwood (home of UCLA). I was happy in the big city. Surprisingly, I was happier in this small town. After checking into our hotel we started driving around and discovered that Main Street was closed down for a car show/street fair that was also welcoming home the "Triple Deuce". We love street fairs and love small towns and love patriotic warm fuzzies and love people that serve and sacrifice for our country. We also loved discovering a new restaurant called Bajio that we were thrilled to learn has a franchise about 10 minutes from our new house (the house that may never actually be finished being built. But that's another story.). It was the kind of restaurant that may make us forget Baja Fresh. Baja Who? See...already forgot. It was a good night. Until the meltdown mentioned above. But! We shall not mention the meltdown, because Nathan is lying down with Jacob, who finally quit screaming a few minutes ago. We will instead mention my adorable children. Jacob has started riding in the "backseat" of the double stroller, and loves to "rub Josh". Poor Josh may be bald quite soon.