Christmas in January.

We left our camera in Utah over the Holidays. Just got it back.

Here is what would have been posted:

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.