SLC #2

Back to SLC: it feels like it was a month ago, b/c it was. Sat morning we got Belgian waffles and watched the morning conference in hotel. Here's a lovely lady we saw at the afternoon session. Jaime is our good friend from Harlem II. She took care of the first 2 when Iris entered this world. Love her family.

This is in front of the Heber C Kimball grave. The sprinklers were spraying Heber C Kimball's great-great-great-great-grandson.

We had dinner with this awesome lady and her cute baby. Anna and I go waaaaay back. All the way back to pre-acne, Meisler middle school, stake dances, blue toenails paired with birks, stalking weird boys, thrift-storing, gifties, roomies in college. I really regret not playing MASHES with her this trip b/c that's just what we do.

Then we ran into this lady. She was in town for training for the big new step in her life: moving to Cali b/c Jon was called as a mission pres (Spanish-speaking). I can safely say I taught them everything they know.

Sunday morning we watched the session at the Smith residence. Russ was David's youth church leader and Holly was his seminary teacher, bless their poor souls. David was/is a piece of work. They insinuated that they were impressed he ended up on this side of the bars.
For the afternoon session we met up with a friend from Ann Arbor. And then walked around temple square until we went to the airport.


A few other Elijah events: Hunt gave him his first and only stitch a few weekends ago after coming into contact with a nail on our stairs. He said the stitch made him popular at school.

Then on our Sunday bike ride along the golf course, a golfer with really good aim hit Elijah in the thigh. We were hangin out with another parent and his kid. The man told Elijah that he had earned the ball and shouldn’t give it back, but Elijah insisted on giving it back when he saw the man looking for it. I wanted to give the man a piece of my mind (Elijah was bruised and cried), but my boy was very honest and civil.

I've been waiting for over 8 years for this day. Today my children asked me what a wedgie is. Teaching by example is supposed to be a superior technique. I am superior. Except for the fact that it took this long to introduce the wedgie. Maybe more time with the Garcia brothers would have helped.

SLC trip #1

Note: Please excuse the excessive detail in this post. As I listened to General Conference, sitting next to my boy and in the same room with men who commune with deity and hold the keys to speak for Him, my greatest wish for Elijah was that he would understand the enormity of the moment and of our special trip. We listened to Elder Packer say, “Much of what I have come to know falls into the category of things which cannot be taught but can be learned.” I'm hoping this teaching trip will have a long-lasting impact on his faith and learning.
We told E that if he finished the Book of Mormon by the time he got baptized, we’d take him to see President Monson at General Conference. Unfortunately he interpreted that as meaning he would get a personal presentation. Even though we couldn’t make that happen, he did say, “This is just like a football game, only better.” That’s saying a lot since he did recently go to a futbol game (Mexico vs. USA) and enjoyed it immensely:

Anyway, David, E, and I had an enjoyable trip to SLC. Our friend, a pilot hooked the boy up with a personal tour of the cockpit:

We got in Thursday night and met up with David’s cousins for some sushi:

and then went for a dip in the hotel pool. The next morning we tried to start out early to show E our old stomping grounds in Provo, but E was drugged up on account of an allergic reaction he had to his coat.

We had breakfast with our good friends, the Millers, who joined us for a hike up the “Y.” I told Jack that the yellow snow tasted like lemonade. Then tricky Elijah kept stuffing the snow down my back pocket. Where does he learn such devious ways?

I dared these 2 kids to sing and dance on a chair in the Cougareat, which ended in a table tipping.

We saw 3 people we know at BYU: mission friend, Scottsdale friend, a former professor/boss (Sra. Garcia employed David who graded my papers b/c I was in her class. I did pretty well in that class). We had a lot of memories walking across campus. A few that were cheesy: it was free hug Friday and the place where David loitered in hopes of bumping into me: he had my schedule memorized.

It was amazing seeing how many changes had been made at BYU. A good part of the freshman housing had been razed and raised. Fox Hall, of the Foxy Ladies, had been preserved. As we drove past my former foxy back porch I remembered how we left a jack-o-lantern on the wall until it turned into a gray, porous pile that scared us. Our first married home didn’t survive the bulldozer: what we affectionately called our tool shed home. We rented that from my Uncle Lloyd. SIDE STORY: I recently went to the funeral of a second cousin (he was an 11-year-old autistic boy who drowned in the canal—sad story, but amazing funeral) and met the daughter of Uncle Lloyd. We were reminiscing about Lloyd’s motto: all problems can be solved with a bit of INGENUITY. She told us about a time he practiced what he preached. A batch of chicks was born without anuses. Lloyd took them home and solved the problem with toothpick surgery.

E and I counted steeples on the way back up to SLC. We toured temple square and ate dinner at The Roof. The Roof is where David took me on the date that started our adult relationship, kinda. His credit card company thanks him since I’m sure we were paying it off well into our marriage: rented a car, went to The Roof, a horse-drawn carriage ride, and breakfast the next morning.

Isn't it great

Isn't it great when the kids help you with chores? Like when they lick every utensil while transferring it from the washer to the drawer. Iris.

Tucson memories

Soon after we moved to AZ, we visited Tucson where I was hit by a tidal wave of childhood memories. They were too abundant for me to wrap my typing fingers around. So I did what I do best: put off digesting them by adding it to my “do to” list, where it has remained for 2 years. Now, while my memories are fresh from my most recent visit, I’m going to see if I can cross this line item off. One of my childhood friends, Eve, was in town and invited me down for a reunion at her parents’ house.
  Every room had several memories
Kitchen. always eating what we knew how to cook: ramen noodles, banana milk shakes, fried tortillas
Bathroom. We made some hilarious prank calls. We poured water and dropped rocks into a full sink as we invited strangers to join our excellent potty training program.
Bedroom closet. Communicating with those beyond the grave on a Ouija board.
Bedroom. Vigorous jumping on the bed as the keyboard played on repeat the Ode to Joy Chorale from Beethoven’s 9th symphony.
Living room. Squatting competitions as we listened to the Fine Young Cannibals and watching coyotes drink from their pond
TV room. Watching horror movies that gave me nightmares. Pillow fights that really hurt, peeing on myself from laughing so hard.
Pool. Introduced to the term "skinny dipping"
Garage: Dog-sitting and standing on the washing machine, watching one of their dogs kill the other dog. Screaming until a neighbor sprayed them down.
The wash: taking magnets to collect black magnetic sand. The huge tree with branches that hung to the ground, creating a playhouse for us.
We found that the tree was dead and the horse stable at my previous home on which I had emblazoned my initials on had been torn down, but not the palo verde next to it where I had placed a bed frame topped by scrap wood to create a tree house (of course the tree house was gone).
The best part of the visit was creating new memories: Iris loved the dogs and the “worm house”: the compost barrel. Lilly (Eve’s girl) and Iris organizing the gourds. Henry’s (Eve’s baby boy) wonderfully chubby thighs. And of course, good conversation with all.

I should have married a tree

So much to catch up on and I'm only going to get to part of it now.
First, and biggest, if I wanted stability, I should have married a tree. David accepted a position in el D.F. of all places. He asked me a few times before he applied for the job if I was really fine with moving back to Mexico. With the taste of tacos al pastor in my mouth, I replied, “yes.” I’m fine with most theoretical situations, especially from a man who has a score of insane epiphanies every second. But the theory materializing has hit me hard, although the reality of moving to Mexico probably won’t completely settle in until my third or fourth bout of food poisoning. Saying goodbye to my friends won’t be easy. Especially those made of flesh, but also others such as my garbage disposal, dishwasher, lemon tree that makes ginormous lemons even though I neglect it, private swimming pool, upstairs and backyard where we can send rambunctious kids, neighborhood where kids play in the front yards and cul de sacs, sidewalks, and most of all, the FDA.
I will miss the FDA the most.
I’m determined not to say goodbye to my sense of invincibility. No matter how many people ask me if I will get killed in Mexico, I refuse to be afraid of everyone I see, unless everyone lurks in dark corners and sells narcotics and chops off heads…oops there goes the imagination again.

Second, I’m trying to complete my Phoenix to-do list: we visited Hole in the Rock at Papago Park. Not yet completed: a baseball game and a hot-air balloon ride (which I’m not interested in unless the kids can go too, and I’m not sure they can).

On the way down, Iris told me that she is faster than everyone in the world, including her own shadow. She also told me that she had been to Papago before, when she was 69 years old. She went with her Great-Grandma Iris.

Third: Pinewood Derby. Like the jerk I am, I laughed at a kid's car that didn’t make it to the finish line. Karma kicked me in the butt: E’s car didn’t even make it to the half-way mark...thrice. Poor kid was devastated and I must say it was all my fault b/c I put the wheels on. Per a youtube video, one of the front wheels shouldn’t touch the track to reduce friction. This scenario worked out perfectly b/c part of the wood chipped off when E tried installing the wheel, so I just nailed it in above so the wheel was about 1/2 inch up. The other 3 were supposed to be tilted various directions. If the youtube dude would have just given me angle measurements, we’d have a trophy for sure. After fiddling with the wheels, E’s car came in 2nd on the last race. He got the "Most Did-it Myself" Award. If that isn't the biggest backhanded compliment I've ever heard, I don't know what is, expecially since he didn't do it by himself besides putting the stickers on.

On the way to get a lingering wart removed, I asked Elijah whether he would miss his growth (it has been his companion for 8 moths or so, despite several over-the-counter remedies). He said he would and that the wart's name was actually Ugly Fuzzy. We talked about Ugly Fuzzy's activities and skills. We had a good laugh and then sent him to the grave.

The hyperest place on earth

For Spring Break I wanted to take the kids for their first visit to the Happiest Place on Earth. First we (me, 3 minions, Mom, and Marcus) stopped at the Chinese Theater to give Marcus a little taste of American culture.

The next day was 13 hours of DISNEYLAND!

Claire is more of a dare-devil than I expected. She loved our first ride: the Matterhorn and it was her favorite ride for most of the day even though the red-eyed monster scared her.

Iris' favorite ride of the day was the teacups that she went on with "your mom" (that's how she refers to Grandma these days).

The Storybook Land boat ride through the whale's mouth freaked out Iris and she wasn't afraid to let the world know. Even after we went out the other side she kept asking whether we'd have to go through it again.

Jedi training. Darth Maul came over to Claire on repeated occasions and hissed at her (this guy took his job way too seriously). She smiled back, but later told me that she almost pulled a knife on him. Astounded, I asked her what knife she planned on using. I was even more astounded when she produced a pocket knife that I had confiscated from Elijah. That's my girl! But seriously, could I have gotten thrown in jail for smuggling a knife into Disneyland and arming my child with it?

The girls loved Minnie's house.

Elijah and Marcus spent a lot of the day together going on the bigger rides. Here's a pic of Elijah dancing a jig in New Orleans square. He proved that the Disneyland motto should be changed to the Hyper-est Place on Earth. I haven't seen him in such form since the terrible 2/3s.

Space Mountain made me realize that I don't hate roller coasters as I had previously supposed. They may even be worth the minor headache. I'm pretty sure I suffered from Shaken Baby Syndrome after that one.

The parade was absolutely amazing. I was surprised at how much I enjoyed it. Iris, who shakes when she is excited, was shaking most of the day, especially during the parade.

Elijah absolutely loved the Haunted Mansion and insisted on going through twice. And he rode Splash mountain about 5 times that day. The last 3 were in the last hour that we were there.

I have a history of bad pictures on rides. A ride on the Space Needle in Las Vegas when I was in college resulted in a picture that was hung over my head as blackmail for several years.

As we left the park, I told the kids to say goodbye to the Magic Kingdom, because they wouldn't see it again until they are 30. It was a fun day, but exhausting. I definitely couldn't have done it without my mom and Marcus.

The next morning we played at the beach before heading home.

 

 

Iris' swinging mood:

The seaweed princess emerges from her sandy lair:

I'm so glad my mom came with us--it really made the trip extra special. On the way home we had perhaps one of the most memorable moments. Claire suggested we combine forces to tell a story. That effort produced repeated rolling laughter from the 4 participants (Iris and Marcus were asleep).