Fishy takes a Holiday

Up here in Oregon, dogs are all the rage. Since we are trying to braid ourselves into Oregonian culture, we bought Emmett a goldfish for his birthday (we're starting the enculturation process slowly.)

Emmett's first and last thoughts of the day were this fish.

First morning words = "Good Morning Fishy!"

Last words of the day = "Night Night Fishy, Love you!"

Now you can understand why I was surprised the day Emmett decided to play with the fish and ended up knocking the fish bowl into the sink....fish ending up in the drain and Emmett having no remorse for the death of his Fish.

Another surprise came when I found myself in deep mourning and hard sobbing over this fish who suffocated down in the disposal (living baby creatures deaths are a hard topic for pregnant folk.) Plus, I was in anguish over the fact my son had no compassion and felt zero guilt for his murder.

So weeks later, whilst in a church meeting at my house, I curiously watched Emmett grab the dining room chair, push it into the kitchen, center the chair in front of the sink, climb up on the chair...and then watched him peer into the kitchen sink.

In a most pensive and forlorn voice he asked,

"Fishy, Where are you?....Fishy, Come back."

That's when I slapped myself.

I had punished and reprimanded him over and over, trying to instill in him a sense of remorse and contriteness.

When, in reality, he just thought his fishy was on Holiday.

The moral of the goldfish:

Discipline = to teach...not to punish.

P.S. I think Santa will bring Emmett's fishy back from his vacation for Christmas.

Autumn Recap

Zoo Season:

"Weopards and Zebwaas" were the favorites

Apple Orchards and Pumpkin Patches

Halloween in Utah: Meet our little "Nacho-o-o-o-o-o-oh"

"Daddy Emmett Saturdays"

Almost Familiar

On Christmas morning, during my Junior Year of Highschool, we had finished opening the presents from Santa and every present under the tree, all except one. The one, last gift was addressed to me and sent from Santa (a.k.a. anonymous.)

I opened it up; inside was a video tape. I stuck it in the VCR and up popped an ultrasound.

My entire family (even some extended) watched in confusion at this unidentifiable object on the screen, everything and everyone silent, only the sound of a heartbeat from the monitor. Finally, white typed words began to appear in the middle of the screen,

"It's....a...girl."

After five brothers I was finally getting a little sister.

It was probably the most memorable Christmas present I've ever had.

Today, I experienced a deja vu of sorts as I lay in front of a similar screen, exhibiting a seemingly unidentifiable object, and nothing could be heard but a pounding heartbeat.

Words were typed onto the moving image as Eric and I anxiously, nerviously, frantically stared at the screen:

"I'm .... a ..... girl!"

I felt a familiar sense of awe, excitement, but also a surprising sense of bewilderment.

A familiar setting, yet this time she was all mine.

And that is exactly what had me bewildered and tense.

As I said, I was raised with all boys, basically as a boy.

And after that, I had a crazy, sunshiney, energetic son.

All i know is pretty much boy. I'm good at boys.

Girls: I'm at a loss.

That's when I looked to Eric.

Having been raised with five sisters and zero brothers, he gets it. He's the one who crawls into bed after a fight waiting for a sincere, loving apology.

I'm the one ready to solve the quarrel with fists.

Although seemingly unconventional, I then felt, more than ever, the need for a dual partnership in this thing we call parenthood.

I guess it came a few months early, but being in that room with this 22 week little lady and a partner to share her with, felt a little like, okay maybe a lot like, Christmas morning.

p.s. I know that was a cheezy ending, but i felt there could be no other way.

p.p.s. I am well aware that we have somewhat of a lack concerning Christmas decor

(as shown above) I'm working on it.

The Big Apple

Eric and I spent these last 5 days in NYC on a much desired vacation. There we met up with some of our family which concluded in a FABULOUS weekend! Not only was the location ideal, but the company was....well, lets just say my uterus still hurts from excessive laughter.

The view from the apartment we stayed in....I think Eric and my brother's favorite part of the trip was throwing little parachute men out of these 80th floor windows.

Central Park

Broadway....Wicked (We've finally hopped on the wagon.)

NBA Store and a Giddy Eric

Hungarian Restaurant...(Tanner is in Budapest, Hungary so we thought we'd try some Goulash to show our love for him. mmmmmm. nummmy.)

While in FAO Schwarz, I surprisingly wished that Emmett was with us. Then we left the store.

Madison Square Park

And Labor, We Did Not

Unexpected events gave way for a surprise visit from Gammy, Pater, and Berkley this Labor Day Weekend! As predicted, Gammy and her eldest daughter centered the weekend around delicious tastes: Farmer's Markets, French Boulangerie's, Mediterranean Cafe's, Pacific North Western Bistro's and Gelateria's.

Rainy afternoons led to childhood classics such as "Back to the Future" and "Funny Girl" leaving the Hostess nostalgic for her childhood, particularly her childhood home.

Overall, the much desired visit was fabulous and left us all hungry, admittedly not for food, but for a longer, larger reunion!

p.s. If you were wondering, Emmett did finally decide to jump in the puddle.

Ready, Get Set, GO!

The Olympics have left a significant impact on the Red Crew these past few weeks. However, Emmett is the one who seems to have really caught the Beijing Olympic spirit. In fact, he seems to have lost quite a bit of sleep due to his favorite events: springboard diving and track and field. The first time we became aware of his interest began when we heard a loud pounding noise after we put Emmett to bed one evening. Obviously worried, we rushed into the room to find him jumping off the side of his bumpers and face planting into the mattress, accompanied by him yelling, "Jump in Water!"

Nemo has temporarily been replaced by the platform and springboard events.

A few days later the little man was running back and forth through the hall which isn't very unusual; what was different was the stopping, stooping, kneeling, followed by a, "Ready, Set, GO!" And off he went again running through the hall. His starting form has greatly improved thanks to the 100m and 200m events.

We are hoping that soon after the Olympics have ended his crib will turn back into a place of rest. As for now it will most likely remain a diving arena.

A Pool of One's Own

The Jones' were the most envied family in my neighborhood growing up.

They had a pool.

During the Summer months, hundreds of messages were left on their answering machine daily, mostly from Myself and my bosom buddy Emily, begging to let us come swim.

This weekend i experienced a reminiscence of that past passion for diving boards and chlorine as I swam in the pool I have been dreaming of my entire life....

My parent's built a pool in their backyard.

I'm sure you all agree that having a pool of one's own is one of the greatest gifts in life....no stranger's scabby bandaids, no sudden warm spots, no struggle in swimsuit confidence, no foreign floating objects, and no belly flop embarrasment.

Although i now feel sure pain that I wasn't born at the end of 7 children so I could experience firsthand the life of the Jones', I can now fly 800 miles and find a bliss that is rare in existence in our planet today.

p.s. my neck and back are strained (I thought I was 11 years old again and attempted to do my old tricks off the diving board.) Cruel reality has now settled.

p.p.s. I thought this pic of Uncle Daney was very characteristic of him.

Shoot it !!!

Every morning, Eric and I wake up to the sound of Emmett shrieking this: "BASKETBALL HOOP(sounds more like 'a-ket-ball') SHOOT IT!!!!!!" This is repeated over and over again until he finally is freed from his crib and let loose, heading straight for his ball and miniature plastic basketball hoop. The screaming finally finishes once he scores. Then it begins all over again when i try to set him in his chair for breakfast....and so on throughout the day. You would think leaving the house would help take his mind off "B-ball" as he frequently refers to it...nope. Any park, grocery store, neighborhood, and especially church he somehow spots the "A-KET-BALL HOOP" and wants to "SHOOT IT!" I've learned to keep a miniature basketball in the diaper bag to nourish his undeniable urge.

And so it was at Play Group Today. All other children, slides, swings, teeter toters were immediately forgotten once he saw his most beloved friend and loyal companion:

the A-KET-BALL HOOP.

P.S. Eric will not admit to anyone he's happy about Emmett's current obsession; however, I see the inevitable satisfaction and joy in Eric's eye everytime Emmett throws a tantrum before bedtime, due to the painful seperation of himself, the hoop, and the ball.

Emmett Red Bed Head

So Eric's Dad, Ed, is an engineering professor at BYU and frequently has the hair a nutty professor should have.

We call it Ed Red Bed Head.

We are crossing our fingers that Emmett inherits some of Ed's genius, not to mention his athleticism. But there is one gene that I am certain has crossed over:

His Hair.

From the rooster tail in the back to the cowlick in the front,

their hair is identical.

I think the title can now be passed down....Emmett Red Bed Head.

Spreading Cheer

These brought me happiness and I am posting them so you might also experience the goodness of this novel and this film.

p.s. thanks a mil to Stacy Runia for this book reccomendation....this novel gave me much needed mirth and sunshine during endless rainy afternoons.

Libby Lane

I'm probably the least crafty female, living and deceased; however, I married into a family who's creative wheels certainly are spinning. Eric's sis, Anne Marie Deucher, has finally allowed the world to partake of her phenomenal crib sets. I'm one of the chosen few who have received one of these prior to her online boutique...UNBELIEVABLE...That is until Emmett somehow took off his poopy diaper and smeared the poop all over the linen and cream chenille bumpers, then managed to fall back asleep with head in poop. That's pretty unbelievable as well. Good news, bumpers = washable. Anyways, she has an array of designs to choose from; there are a couple examples below. Hooray, now we can all indulge!

www.libbylanedesigns.com

Love & Marriage.

My good friend and cousin Brooke got married this weekend in Arizona.

Here is how Emmett spent her special day:

he flew.

he boogied.

he woogied.

he tired out.

so long. farewell.

Emmett and I are thinking the same thing about graduation in this picture: "is it over yet?" I guess I'm better at hiding my emotions.

Last week we went to Utah to say farewell to Tanner Hunt Runia; he is moving to Budapest, Hungary for 2 years. Is it “bad” pride to be a proud sister? Even if so, I most definitely am. Eric also officially said goodbye to school, at least for a little while (he walked at BYU graduation). Proud wife too. Overall, it was quite rejuvenating to be with our family and good friends again. And thanks to Aunt Berkley for being a most committed babysitter, you gave us a fabulous vacation.

i have a new idea.

I'll admit, I’m not a very good blogger. So, I have an idea: begin a daily posting of the ridiculous situations Carly finds herself in (and yes, I would probably have an amusing event to share every day where I’m left completely deprecated.) Like today, how I had to jump into the huge community garbage bin outside our apartment to look for the keys that I let go of, while throwing the garbage into the dumpster. I'm sure the surrounding apartment owners found it quite entertaining to see this girl roll up her sweats, climb up the side of the dumpster, and toss herself in.
Or, how I was at borders on Monday, and had been walking around for about 20 minutes when I went to scratch the back of my leg and all I could feel was leg and no dress. I was the last to realize my dress was tucked up into my diaper bag back pack, exposing my beautiful back side. I just stood there, frozen, desperate to just disappear. Stupid Oregon people; like you don't come whisper in my ear, “your butt is showing.” Confession: this has happened more than once. Yes, you are probably thinking, “I once had a nightmare where that happened: I showed up to school with no pants and I woke up in a cold sweat.” Pretty funny how your nightmares are my reality, huh.
And then, the other day, I was putting Emmett in the car to go to Costco and, long story short, locked him and both sets of keys inside the car. So, for an hour, in the parking lot, I kept Emmett entertained while waiting for the fire department. I was bawling while trying to sing really loud so Emmett could hear me through the window. Then I ran around playing peek-a-boo through every window of the car... I’m sure people thought I’d gone nuts (they couldn’t see Emmett inside): I’ve got mascara strewn all across my face from crying, and I’m running around doing some crazy Chinese fire drill and singing really loud to myself. Finally, I started drawing kitties and balls on the windows with some lipstick, which he liked. Happy ending…We got Emmett out, both of us still alive.
Let’s just say, Eric loves checking his messages at work to hear some new humiliation his wife has put herself through. I’m glad I can brighten up his day. If you are looking for a quick pick-me-up, give me a ring and I’ll be sure to share with you one of my many moments of shame; you’ll leave feeling much better knowing you have a friend who is far more ridiculous than you.

Easter Surprise

We had a wonderful surprise this Easter weekend...the Sun came out! So, we headed down to the Oregon Coast. It was sublime to say the least. Eric was ecstatic to find out he has a fearless, (non-wimpy) son: Emmett ran straight for the freezing waves when we let him out of his stroller. Carly became nostalgic for their Hawaiian past with beach towns, salty air, and sandy toes. And Emmett got some alone time with his first crush, Jess Palmer, who came to visit over the weekend. He can't get enough of her. Plus, seeing the sun gave us all hope that perhaps spring had finally begun and the rain was finally over.

p.s. it is raining right now as i'm writing this.

Wooden Shoes

Since there is not much new happening out here in Portland, I thought it would be nice to reflect on a childhood memory. This family portrait was taken in Rotterdam, Holland (The Netherlands), my Dad's native country...apparently my parents thought this a most worthy way to spend our time while on a foreign continent. All I remember is my mom complaining about how pointy her hat was, and that I was livid to be holding the red blob (fyi: it is supposed to be cheese). I think I recall Ryan trying to break the windows with the unidentifiable object he's holding after the picture was taken...that's when he realized the windmill and sailboats weren't real. However, it must be said, we do look quite authentic, don't you think?

Walking

Emmett is finally walking at 15 months! I know it is completely lame to show baby milestones on blogs, and I'm quite sure you really don't care, but now, if you are even still reading this, you'll understand how huge it is to us that he's walking (although, my arms were getting pretty ripped carrying around this ginormous load of a toddler.) The event occurred as such: Eric set down the giant on the floor after a hard wrestling match, and totally nonchalant, Emmett walked all the way across the room to the couch, never before even attempting to take a step. It's as if he had been planning the stunt for months.

Images of Willem Emmett Red...As Promised