Coming back from SD

We fulfilled a childhood dream of mine on the way back from San Diego by visiting the site where Large Marge dropped off Pee Wee Herman.

Supposedly, it was in the mouth of the following T-Rex that Pee Wee said "Tell me about your big butt." It's a quality film.

But here we are in the tiny mouth, so Pee Wee was actually in a Hollywood set when he said that classy line.

The view of the brontosaurus (which apparently has had a name change since I was in grade school--apatosaurus. Since when can you posthumously change a name? I would only expect such a thing from the Artist Formerly Known As Prince.). This "biggest dinosaur in the world" took over a decade to be built out of spare material salvaged from the construction of nearby Interstate 10.

The museum was interesting, espousing all kinds of strange ideas:

We also learned that DINOSAURS ARE STILL ALIVE!!! The evidence lies in the dinosaur formerly known as the Loch Ness Monster. No joke, it's actually been sighted by "scientists" and weirdos alike.

And one last theory they thrust on us, was of course, Creationism, not Monkey-ism. The Tshirts we bought in the belly of the apatosauris read, "By design, not by chance." My personal belief is that Neanderthal fossils were buried on our planet by Martians who themselves descended from fruit flies.

Then a drive through Joshua Tree National Park

 

 

The winged child right before her chicken nuggets came back for a visit:

San Diego

For Fall Break we decided to spend a few days in San Diego.

Our first stop was the Mormon Battalion museum in Old Town.

The battalion marched nearly 2,000 miles, finishing in San Diego. My 3rd great-grandpa, William Bailey Maxwell, was a part of it. He spoke Sioux, Ute, Shoshone, Pahvan, Pahute, Moqui, Navajo, and Spanish.



 Elijah said this was his favorite part of the trip because "the pictures talked to us" (they were videos in picture frames that lead us around the museum). The museum has recently been remodeled and is pretty incredible. The kids panned for gold, played a video game, washed clothes, pumped water, built with bricks, and played in a covered wagon.

Then we walked around Old San Diego, visiting the printing shop, candy store (David entered solo and exited happy), the blacksmith, and the donkey.

 Kids playing dead in a Dia de los Muertos coffin.

Burritos at Lucha Libre.

San Diego temple

 Eternal sibling love

 La Jolla Cove

Sea World!

Claire ate this up. She was very excited about this picture with the dolphin show performers.

Elijah liked the rides. The girls weren't tall enough to go on the rides, so E and I went together. He was an entertainer, screaming "I'm dying to death," and "We are all going to die today," and "I'm going to slap you mountain," while jumping as much as his loose seatbelt would permit. We also went on a "helicopter ride." When we got off, he was amazed and said, "Where are we, Mom?"

Iris was in love with the animals.

This Shamu show was my favorite b/c the splashing was the closest David came to getting a shower all vacation. Although I think we all can imagine what Shamu does in that water.

I was browsing cnn.com about an hour ago and started reading the main article about a nanny who had stabbed the 2 kids she was caring for and then stabbed herself as the mother came home to discover the scene. The little girl, Lulu, was in Elijah's La Escuelita class. We went to their house for a playdate, went to Lulu's bday party in Central Park, then a puppet show, getting green bagels together on St. Patrick’s Day, Marina's (the mother) email congratulating us on the birth of Iris, and the other one asking me to KIT from Mexico; wish I were a better friend. I went to a brunch with Marina and we both revealed that we were pregnant with our 3rd child due at the same time with doubts of how we would care for 3; she was excited, I was afraid. But now her 3rd and 1st children are dead. I've had the shivers and an ugly feeling at the pit of my stomach since I read the article. The family hired a new nanny right after we left NYC. The family went on a trip with this nanny to her native DR in Feb (per the article) and met her family there. How much better can you know a person?
Everyone has internal struggles that we may not know about. Should that make us sympathetic or afraid? I remember going to this family's house and almost feeling envy of their spectacular home, perfectly decorated and clean, a block from Central Park, room for kids to play and run. She spoke of how she and her husband loved cooking and the kids waited up so everyone could eat dinner together. And there I was feeling inferior with Elijah screaming and not sharing and me, always self-conscious about how I must appear to others. Oh man, but how much of that matters now. There’s a woman in NYC rolled up in a ball, feeling deceived, feeling physical pain for her loss. How will there be a tomorrow? Oh how my heart aches for that mother as my baby Iris caresses my face.
I'm looking at my children differently today.

School Pictures

 It's that time of year again!

Elijah, just like any superhero, is constantly concerned about bringing justice to the world. But instead of shooting webs or flying through Gotham, Elijah's rectifying method is to screech, "Mom, that's so unfair!"

Claire's first school picture.

David's reaction to the picture:

"That's a Latina. Ain't no camera gonna steal her soul." 

And Iris continues doing her thing at home.

David was hit by a car

(Written a week ago)
As all homo sapiens, most primates, possums, and the maned rat of Africa will tell you, the opposable thumb is quite a blessing. Today was supposed to be David’s big day, the returned utility of his second thumb. David has been quite limited for 26 days. As he put it, the only physical activity he has been doing lately is eating.
A car hit him.
He was on a bike.
The car was turning right and he wasn’t. On impact, he flew into the air and landed on cement, resulting in a bloody knee, a broken bone in his left wrist, a borrowed bike with $1000 in damage, and a pretty pink cast, in honor of his daughters. He had a previous soccer injury, a broken bone in his toe, for which he’s been wearing a styling boot. Both the boot and the pinkness were to come off today, meaning he could start working off his newly-created beer...ahem...sugar-belly. But he failed both x-rays and wept when he found out a new cast would be applied. This time he chose a glow-in-dark white cast b/c of an encounter my nose had with the pinkness a few nights ago.

Anyway, as stated earlier, I was going to wait to write about this until legal issues resolved, but since when do the words “legal” and “resolved” go together? I write about it now b/c it’s the bane of the poor man’s existence, or at least he would have me believe so. Not only can he not exercise, it is difficult for him to do many other chores, .e.g., diaper changing, washing dishes, washing his right arm, mowing the lawn, anything involving sweat, exertion, dirt, and sand. His doctor (who is conveniently my brother) has given him a ticket to Easy Street. But I’ll give him props for not always accepting. He did learn how to clean his left arm and floss his teeth, though I fear the diaper-changing is a lost cause.
On a related note, devoted readers will know that David likes to make anti-hygienic goals, especially when he is placed in uncommon circumstances. This time he was determined to wear the same outfit the whole time he had his cast. Picture clothes wearing thin. As David was coming out of a meeting, a co-worker mentioned a hole in the back of his pants. Upon further examination, David discovered it wasn’t just a hole, but a shredded chasm at least 7-8 inches long. After an unsuccessful expedition to the bathroom with a stapler, he walked around holding a notebook over his backside for the rest of the day.

Thoughts before and after General Conference

Pardon the lapse in posting. I’ve had a lot on my mind lately: How open should my life be?  I never thought I cared what others thought about me, and in a way, I kinda don’t. But there’s a part of all normal people that craves acceptance.  Some of my internal struggle stems from the fact that David was called to be the mission leader in our church. This means the fire of testimony has been burning in the house and we have been trying to share the warmth. This, in turn, means I have been thrusting myself out into the world more than I am comfortable doing and have also felt rejected at times.  Not that I have anything to be ashamed about, nor any reason to be apologetic. Then why am I timid?  As a kid I learned that feeling the influence of the Spirit can be like a blanket wrapped around me. But have you ever been wrapped in a blanket in the summer? The role of the Spirit is also to make us uncomfortable at times in order to provoke change, which is the purpose of life: evolution to the divine. And let me tell you, it pays off. We've had some wonderful experiences.

   And one other subject invading my brain has been the dynamics of faith. It’s not blind nor naïve but at the same time, it’s not all-encompassing. From the New Testament: “I believe, help thou mine unbelief.” This statement indicates that belief and unbelief can coexist, even in the presence of faith. Then James 1:6, “ask in faith, nothing wavering.” Are those 2 qualities mutually exclusive? Is it possible to ask in faith with some wavering? And one more, “Faith is not to have a perfect knowledge of things,” which means there is room for imperfection.  I think if people understood this concept more they might not “lose the faith” as easily.  And what hits home is when someone close thinks they have “lost the faith” because it's not as perfect as they think it should be with ministering angels and reveations, what does it mean for them and their family?

Now, because of the risk of thinking too deeply, a practice I gave up years ago, I’ll end the feigned theology there.

But first, to tie everything up, let me end with a thought from Pres. Monson’s talk at General Conference, or a deduction I made from his talk. He has kept a daily journal and therefore has noticed patterns in his life that otherwise could be dismissed as chance or coincidence. Therefore, I have started a new blog to trace patterns of God’s hand in my life. It’s for my eyes only, because I don’t want to think about you while I’m writing (no offense) and because “it’s personal,” which is one of the most snotty and asinine phrases ever.