Brandon's Boulder Trip

Here he is, hard at work on his black marabous. He tied those jigs night after night until he had enough for the bear hunt. ??? Yes, he said he cared much more about the fishing that was going to take place than the bear tag. The only bear he saw was a mama with two cubs, one a year old and the other brand new. You are allowed to shoot male or female, even a cub. (How sad is that? Maybe he could have brought home a little teddy bear for Anika.) I'm so relieved he didn't shoot a mama but still really want him to get his bear. I keep encouraging him to go out for another trip and trust me, that is rarer than Halley's Comet.

It looks so cold in that float tube, I'm shivering. Brandon said there was ice around the edges of the lakes.

Brandon is a serious risk to himself while fishing. The second he has a pole in his hand, he can't concentrate on anything else, even his own numbing limbs. It's as if all other sensory input is stopped before it reaches his brain. I truly believe he wouldn't notice frostbite until his hands turned black or someone took that pole out of his hand.

Positive Affirmations

I'm good enough.
I'm smart enough.
And doggone it, people like me.



I could really use some positive affirmations.
Got any good ones?
The only one I've kept in the arsenal for years and years is:

I do enough.
I have enough.
I am enough.

It Pains Me

Congratulations, you are friends with the most picky person on the planet (me). At least when it comes to sweat pants. And I wear them a lot. I mean a lot.

I collect them like stamps. But only wear my favorite pair.

The ultimate pair, the kind that comes around once in a lifetime, was found at a Ross in Las Vegas in 2001. I wore those puppies day and night and taught nearly every ballet class in them. They were terry cloth with spandex, navy blue with a pale blue elastic band. A former ballet student now works at Pasta Factory. I happened to be mourning to her about the fate of my favorite sweats and she said, "Oh, were they navy with a pale blue band?" YES, THOSE ONES!

They died when I was just eight weeks pregnant. Yes, that was 2006, I wore them for five years. I was packing for a Boulder Mountain trip with Brandon and was cleaning fly line in my bathroom sink. The line was on my Dad's nice reel, the one I never let myself use. But I was going to bust it out this time. It still had a beaded head prince nymph tied on, his last fly and I always took it out and couldn't believe that he had actually been on earth and fishing with it.

That beautiful nymph got caught in my sweat pants! I tried literally for an hour to get it out safely. But alas, through wet eyes and emotion that can only come out of a grieving and pregnant woman, I decided to sacrifice the pants to save my Dad's last fly and cut it free with scissors. I keep it safe in my special things. But dammit, I miss those sweats.

I got completely packed for that trip but after that breakdown and one last pregnant vomiting episode in the sink, I drove to the shop and told Brandon I wasn't going with him.

Then there was a drought. (Seven years of plenty, seven years of famine.) I hunted and hunted for a new pair that would be as comfortable. I suffered my whole pregnancy without a good pair of sweats. Finally, last year, I found another pair that is permanently stuck to my body. THEY ARE HIDEOUS, let me tell you. They are knee-length, hot pink and just sick to the core. And by sick, I don't mean PHAT sick or The S***. I mean sick. Hideously, hot-pinkishly sick. I apologize constantly to my family that they have to see me in them daily. But comfort means that much to me.

They have to be just right, you see. Short rise in the crotch, very loose elastic and stretchy terry cloth. Talk about impossible. Please, someone out there, help me be comfy. If you build it, they will come. The housewives of America will thank you. Sometimes I think I'm crazy. Why am I so sensitive to comfort? Everything has to be just so. It pains me to be even slightly uncomfortable. I nearly panic.

Williams - Birthday

Sage turned 6 years old today. We celebrated her birthday yesterday. We went swimming with the family. We met Herb's parents, Ashley, and Tesa at an Aquatic center and we all swam for a couple hours. Herbie and Sage were both too small to go down the hydrotube, maybe next year. We even put Nora in a swimming suit and she got to play in the water. After swimming we had a BBQ, ate Ashley's delicious cake (Sage requested the style), and opened presents. Sage opened presents with the assistance of Herbie who tried to open all of them before Sage could get to them. She was so sweet, every time I told Herbie to knock it off, she would say, "Mom it is just fine, I don't care!" She is such a wonderful daughter. Sometimes I think she is a grown up and wise beyond her years.

I also made Sage breakfast in bed this morning because she requested that. So I set my alarm to get up before her but just as I was walking out of my room she came walking down the hall and said I was taking too long and she couldn't wait any longer. It was only 7:30am. She was upset with me and I told her to go get back in bed and I would still bring it to her. She finally climbed back in and then it went down hill from there because I brought her cereal that she didn't like (which she has always liked up until now:), she asked me why her bagel was cold. Needless to say it was a disaster and I felt terrible. I should have gotten up an hour earlier and then it would have been a success, but sleep is so precious to a mother of a newborn. Hopefully I can redeem myself.

Lake Arrowhead

I took this photo off the Lake Arrowhead web cam just two seconds ago. Talk about a late snow storm. I'm going there to Andrea's for Ian's graduation in a few weeks and had visions of being on the lake in the sun. Oops. Nearby Mammoth Mountain's ski season is still going and is having skiing and fireworks on the fourth of July. How awesome would that be?

Dearest Brandon:

Let's make a deal.

Are you needed some extra cash?

Do you yearn to be flattered hourly and bribed with goodies?

Is your desire to save Quinn's fingers and salvation intensified?

Feel like pouring the grace of God over a couple of long lost friends?

If you answered yes... or even maybe... to any of these questions, then have we got a deal for you.

Name your price. Any price. We'll pay in cash and send Quinn to be your helper.

Did I mention we own a fishing boat?

There's still a prize in the box?!?!

Go figure.

They still give away prizes in cereal boxes!?!?!

I'm shocked. I totally thought that was an 80's thing or something that remained strictly on Napoleon Dynamite movies. You'd think that prizes in the cereal box would be the first thing to go during a recession. Nope. Today I got my very own Shrek water squirter out of the Cinamon Toast Crunch box.

I may need to mention that until I became 7 months pregnant, I absolutely HATED and LOATHED all cereal. Hence the 20 year flashback to prizes in the box.

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Oh, and Alana- until about 2 years ago, Quinn literally thought a line of credit was extra cash... free money. Try breaking that news to a 27-year-old who thinks he can afford a fishing boat.

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The latest:

Last week of school starts Monday (thank the Lord) and I have been positively swamped. You know it's bad when I don't blog for a while. School has been crazy and draining, I've been in SLC almost every weekend for the last month, we are still remodeling the apartment, dance recitals and lessons are finally over, and in one week, all my end-of-the-school-year happenings and stress will melt into pure summer bliss.

Quinn drove to Vegas on Friday to buy me about 10 menu items at Cheesecake factory and he's been diligently pushing me out of bed each morning. For this reason alone I am at a loss as to what single pregnant women do to get out of bed during pregnancy. Plus, he has the best haircut and he is sexier than ever (seriously, he is so hot- how does he even function with the rest of us???).

Williams

We had concrete poured to extend our driveway and patio. This is Herb and Herbie trying to put their handprint in the cement but no luck because it was already too dry for our hands. When it was still wet we weren't home so we missed the opportunity. The kids were so bummed. The patio looks awesome and is about twice the size as it was before. I have begged Herb to do this for me since we moved in because I was so sick of the puddles of mud in our backyard from the rain. I will have to post more pics later.

Williams

Sage played in a school Talent Show today. Here is a pic. I will have to post the video later.

Herbie at the show being silly.

Dear Line of Credit,

Thank you for being attached to my bank account and automatically loaning me money when I need it (every day). I know it has been a long stretch since I paid you back but pay checks are late and getting later and I don't know when we ever can catch up... I can't wait to catch up with you. I can't wait until I can deal in numbers > 0. Or at least only be one paycheck behind.

Brandon thanks you, too. From Boulder Mountain. Where he might as well be during the middle of a work week since his employment efforts are pro bono publico anyway.

But thanks again for being there for me. Without you, my electricity would be shut off. Without you, there would be Deseret Industries granola. Without you, I would be forced to face reality, act responsibly and negotiate with my lifestyle. You know, like in the olden days when people only dealt with money they actually had.

Thanks for helping me dig myself a deeper hole.

I owe you one.

Yours truly,
(maybe even Love,)
Alana

Earplugs, Boulder, Panguitch, Oh my!

On Monday I remembered something Andrea once told me. She said she used to wear earplugs while Ian was throwing fits. Luckily, I found one pair in our medical supplies. Ahhh, relief. When Anika throws a fit, I can't give in. The fits are extra bad when Emmet is around and I have been watching him everyday, all day, for weeks. But Anika is relentless and will go on for an hour or more. Earplugs. I can still hear what the kids are saying to me and respond, all the while soothed by the sound of my own heartbeat and breath. I can't hear the cartoons or the washing machine or even the sound of the dishes clanking as I unload. It takes the edge off just enough to keep me calm and responding to the kids sympathetically. I highly recommend it.

We have made much progress in the fit department. I just ask Anika if she would like to stay upstairs and be nice or if she'd like to be a mad girl, she can go to her room. Sometimes she'll stop screaming to stay up and sometimes she goes to her room and has alone time. Sometimes she even runs down to her room by herself. It's too funny. (And on Monday required earplugs.) She has learned that she likes alone time and needs it to calm down.

Moving on... The Big B just left for his fantasy dream week: Boulder Mountain with his Dad and two brothers-in-law for five days. Remember how I mentioned I have been knee-deep in black marabou jigs since 2003? Well, this time Brandon decided to tie his own. He worked on them for weeks. Five days of camping and fishing on Boulder would be perfect enough for Brandon but no, the fun doesn't stop there. He also has a BLACK BEAR TAG! Yes, he drew out. I already miss him and hate it when he's gone but it makes me happy just knowing how happy he is right at this moment. I must admit that the thought of Brandon mercilessly killing a furry, intelligent creature without cause... totally turns me on! I'm serious. It must be my inner/very outward Primal Woman but... bear hunting? HOT! HOT!

I thought my week and weekend would drag out but I just got a phone call from Cara saying she is heading up tomorrow morning. I planted the seed last week, just mentioning it once, and that was enough to get her to come up! So I guess I wont be too lonely after all.


This is a picture from last Saturday when Brandon went up to Panguitch with his cousin. Go Brandon, that is a big fish. I asked him what happened to his lip that day. He said, "Oh, I got a fish hook stuck in it." Oh, that's all?

ladies and gentlemen, behold.

this.

Not That Girl

I want some of what this girl smokes.

I'm sorry, you crunched on what now?

Can't you guys just see me downstairs in my bedroom with candles and celery, rocking myself through contractions?

And don't forget, she managed to bake bread and cheesecake earlier. (Listen to me lady: you. have. the. munchies!)

The only thing my 'body is meant to do' is eat a green Del Taco burrito every day. My car broke down at the drive-thru window last week. I held my burrito's 'soft, meaty body' in one hand and my cell in the other as I told the AAA associate on the phone, "yes, a tow truck to the Del Taco on Sunset. Uh huh. Thank you."

My burrito was perfection. I felt amazing, and blessed with every expansion of my belly.

Don't you see? I'll never be that girl. I'm the girl that picks up a dozen donuts on the way to the epidural. I'm the girl that begs the nurse for a pile of Lortabs served in a bowl, covered in milk, and shoveled in by the spoon full. I'm the girl who is at the drive-thru window so often, odds necessitate I eventually break down there.

Williams

No worries. I am here just drowning in my own life. Here are a few pics from the last couple of weeks.

Tesa's play at school - Beauty and the Beast. Sage wanted to dress up like Belle to go to the play.

Beauty and the Beast

Nora - Big Smile and Big Ears - Hopefully she will grow into those. :)

T-Ball

Where Am I?

Do I really need to say anything about this?

Really, California?

I was unaware there were children with jobs, driver's licenses and automobiles who could drive themselves to Micky D's and open up their Dora the Explorer wallets for a happy meal.

I was also unaware I lived in China. Where am I? Shall we also have our toyless, fryless, funless children manufacture fireworks while at 'school'?

And Ronald McDonald? He's a businessman, part of the last persecuted minority.

The only line that can be clearly and permanently drawn is between laws protecting my life and property from others (not myself!) and every other law. A line drawn anywhere else will not stay there. I don't just believe in slippery slopes, history is nothing but tales of slippery slopes.

On My Mind

First, I have to mention that the second installment of the History Channel's America the Story of Us documentary did not fail to disappoint. Very well done. I just finished watching it on the DVR. Whale oil on the Hubble? Have I been living underneath a rock?

Also, did you see this in the news today?
The US, among others, walked out in protest.


The United Nations is one of the things I was thinking about when I blogged this.

I fail to understand the United Nations. It's as if we were holding conferences to take on the mafia and inviting its lead thugs to negotiations. We will lose, totally.

The agenda of the UN is so illogical, I can't help but wonder...

David Rockefeller, CFR Kingpin, founder of the Trilateralist Commission, and World Order Godfather said...

"We are grateful to the Washington Post, The New York Times, Time
Magazine and other great publications whose directors have attended
our meetings and respected their promises of discretion for almost
forty years."

"It would have been impossible for us to develop our plan for the world
if we had been subjected to the lights of publicity during those years.
But, the world is now more sophisticated and prepared to march towards a
world government. The supranational sovereignty of an intellectual elite
and world bankers is surely preferable to the national
auto-determination practiced in past centuries."