Princess for a Day

On February 18th, I turned 27 years old, an unreasonably high number.  Although I have reached this age, I do not feel that I have obtained the maturity level that a 27 year old ought to have.  Shouldn't I have more of life figured out by now?  Better if life were the other way around and age were determined by maturity level.  If that were so, I would still be approximately 18 while Alex would be 47.

For my birthday I got to be a Princess for a day.  I was whisked away to a beautiful far away land known as Park City high up in the Mountains.  I got to stay in a place where magical woodland creatures (housekeeping) clean up after you, and where they do not allow you into the kitchen but rather prepare the food for you and do the dishes afterward.  While there, I kissed a frog and he turned into a handsome prince.

I got to visit a beautiful ice castle with said prince made from thousands of icicles grown special for the occasion.

They must have known we were coming because they put this sign outside the entrance of the ice tunnel.

We even battled the forces of evil while warming up in the natural hot springs after the ice castle when a wicked witch decided to take her clothes off.  The springs were large and she was of little bother until the awesomeness of our dry ice, which Lance had brought for the occasion, attracted her attention.  Lance cleverly realized the ice's potential for distraction and selflessly relinquished possession of the whole of it (even though it was awesome) into the hands of the demon who swam away happily once again back to her lair.

The next morning we woke up so late that we had to have hamburgers and french fries for breakfast.  My favorite!  We returned home to a happy baby and a clean house (thanks Casey) and the spell was broken, but it was truly a great day.

Virtual Boy

The Virtual Boy gaming system made its 1980s debut as they only system of its time to boast 3-D graphics.  Awesome!  Since none of you have any idea what I am talking about, the idea obviously was a flop.  

My assessment of this product's failure is two fold.  First, the lack of human interaction.  The Virtual Boy has the capability to cut one off almost completely from the outside world.  The eye piece in particular wraps fully around the sides of the head, I imagine to enhance its 3-D capabilities, but also succeeds in entirely eliminating any distraction from the outside world.  Video games of their own accord often create tunnel vision,  but this product, conveniently, also comes with the tunnel.

And second, its widespread ability to cause seizures. Yep.

While the Virtual Boy was admittedly a failure, a few thousand did make it into the hands of the public.  My teenage husband and his friend Heber, were two of these lucky few who were able to purchase the item at DI for a whopping $30.  If you can survive the seizures, it does pay to be co-owners of a Virtual Boy.  Time and the limited amount of circulating systems have caused it to become a gamers collectors item and can now be sold on for upwards of $350.

But who could part with such a beloved childhood toy when it fits Lance so perfectly.  He truly is a Virtual Boy.

Valentine's Day

Wove.  Wove.  Wove is what bwings us togevver today.

In an attempt to more fully develop my culinary side, I set out to bake Lance a Valentine's day bouquet.  The result, this lovely arrangement of 6 cupcakes which only left about 29 extra.  Thanks to Brian and Shelley's family and Brian's co-workers for disposing of our surplus.  This fabulous prize also came with a bottle of Olive Garden's famous salad dressing, a 2 liter of Root Beer, and a love note (something I hope to make into a Valentine's tradition of making a list of things I love about each person).  I know, I out-did myself.












Lance also presented me with a token of his love, as seen below.













Yes, you're right.  It is a scale.  Now, you may be wondering what kind of husband gives his wife a scale for Valentine's Day and now you know.  Mine does.

Okay, your bad opinion of my husband has gone on long enough.  The request of the scale was actually my own in an effort to put on a few pounds (which I hate to mention because now you will probably all hate me - but I sacrifice myself so that you can know the wonderfulness of my husband) in hopes that this might help in our quest for child #2.  See, it's true.  This is the second portion of my gift.

So you see, I did not marry a monster, but rather a truly wonderful man who was willing to buy his wife a scale for Valentine's Day to aid her in her efforts of getting fatter.  Now that is true love.

Natural Disaster

On Friday February 5th, disaster struck our home.  The first of its kind, I felt particularly unprepared.  Like any normal day, I had undressed Alex in preparation for a bath, and being the somewhat absent minded person that I am, I didn't begin looking for her lotion until after she was in the buff.  She was delighted with this rare occurance of being left in the nude and quickly grabbed a book and climbed into the rocking chair for a quick read.  Cute.  Sure, but then I noticed it.  A small ring of wet growing steadily larger upon the seat where she sat.  Cute turned to Gross, but I thought as I ran to get some carpet cleaner, it's better than throw up.

I came back upstairs to find Alex hiding behind the chair.  Ohh, she must think she is in trouble.  Poor thing, but I still needed a rag so I stopped at the hall closet.  Those of you who have children and experienced similar disasters may have guessed by now that this was no ordinary hiding place, and that there were no thoughts of remorse behind her decision for choosing this unusual location.  I give you leave to chuckle at my ignorance, but please a little sympathy as well.

My rag searching was interrupted by sudden wails from the next room.  I rushed in to find my daughter with pleading outstretched hands full of POOP!  She had POOPED ON THE FLOOR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  And not just pooped and walked away, but became curious about this fascinating thing that had just come out of her body, picked it up, decided it was gross and tried to wipe it off on her bare stomach, stepped in it in her haste to get out from behind the chair, and came running for the door leaving tiny poop footprints.

It was time for action.  I grabbed the distressed child and began the decontamination process.  Once again poop free, I placed her on the floor instructing her to stand there while I pick up the large poop pieces before we got in the bath.  I bent over the chair, grabbed the two main pieces of poop and looked up to find that she had peed where she stood.  (she was obedient though, she hadn't moved) 

Lest you think by the length of this post that this was a large span of time, I should inform you that this all took place in less than 3 minutes.  3 minutes, 3 separate bodily functions all deposited on 3 different pieces of furniture.

I could think of no words, which is probably good because if I had at least one may have had four letters, but my face must have been worse because Alex had a very reverent bath time.  One bath, 45 minutes of scrubbing, and an entire bottle of carpet cleaner and cleanliness was restored.  I threw the rag away.
I do apologize that there are no pictures, but let's face it.  You didn't really want to see that.  Here is a picture of a happier time taken sometime after the incident, proof that my child is still alive.

Dirty little secret

I have a confession to make. I will be 27 years old in a matter of weeks and I still love McDonalds. I have been waiting for the maturation of my pallet to occur, which I was always told would happen when I grew up, and still nothing. Maybe it's because of the price, maybe it can be blamed on nostalgia, but there is something about a double cheeseburger (no onions), fries, and a sprite that brings warmth to my heart and plaque to my arteries.

I have been to wonderfully fancy restaurants such as, The Timbermine, The Roof, and Marie Calendars. But they all require presentable appearance and a reservation. What kind of friend is that?! No no, a true friend is someone who doesn't care what you look like, who will still be there for you on your worst day, and doesn't have to pencil you into a schedule. So on a rainy Saturday night you know you can always strap on your elastic waist pants and head to McDonalds.

To comfort food. (Even if it doubles as a guilty pleasure)

Whew, glad I got that off my chest.

Gene Pool

As each day passes I realize more and more how much Alex is like Lance. Although I carried this child for 9 months and developed her every cell, I seem to have contributed very little to her genetic makeup. Case in point: her newest character development of loving everything technological. More specifically the iphone. She knows how to unlock the phone, navigate its many pages, drag, click, drop, etc. She is highly disappointed with my lame phone due to its 1980s appearance and obvious lack of touch screen.

Lance has even downloaded some games just for her, which we now use to demonstrate to our friends how brilliant she is. Alex is constantly peering over Lance's shoulder or snuggling under his arm to get a better look, and even sneaks off with it alone should the opportunity arise. But who can complain when one small device can occupy the attentions of two individuals, giving me a few extra moments to write about it.

But I still have claim on her eye shape.

The Month of December

Has it been a whole month? Nope, it's been more. I think my last post was the middle of November. I missed you too. I do apologize to my adoring readers who may have started to worry. Never fear. I am fine. For us December is one exciting month, with so many family activities there is nary a moment for blogging. So here is a recap of our December.

Trimming the tree. We were pleasantly surprised this year to find that all of our ornaments were made of plastic, which is quite convenient when you have a one year old who enjoys tearing the tree down. We were truly wise beyond our years with this serendipitous purchase.

(we do have other decorations too - felt I should point that out)

A convenient new fetish with hats, which made it easier when . . .

. . . she had to wear a lot of them to go outside, which made possible . . .

. . . a trip to Bethlehem . . .

(those are llamas in the middle)

. . . and lots of lights. The lights in Ogden are hundreds (okay not hundreds, but what is the next lowest numerical level, tens??) In Ogden there are tens of little houses each decorated and themed differently. This particular house depicted our nephew Christian as a Mexican guitar extraordinaire. He looks great with a mustache.

My parents spent the early part of December in Hawaii. This is my mom's "It's fun and relaxing" face on their para-gliding adventure.

A pizza and french fry vending machine. How did they know that Lance would be craving pizza and/or french fries while sitting in a hospital waiting room. Genius. Next time you're at the hospital check it out.

Heritage Park and Santa Claus complete with his real reindeer and sleigh. The beard was real too. I always check. And thankfully this year I was not mistaken by Santa to be a curious handicapped child. Although I did get a candy cane last year. Hmmm....

A unsuccessful attempt at sledding.

My dad getting into the spirit of things.

An attempt to salvage the sledding debacle, we ended the trip at the park. Lance situated Alex backwards in the swing so she was not facing the sun (safety first) leaving the lower support in the back which threatened to dump her on her head with each frontward swing. Not knowing the peril she was in, Alex enjoyed herself, and was apparently also very sleepy.

Lance's struggle and ultimate domination of the "Homestyle Kitchen", thereby fulfilling his fatherly duty of assembling all toys no matter how ridiculous for the happiness of his daughter.

Santa's arrival.

Another more successful attempt at sledding with cousin Emery.

And another trip to the park afterward.

Not pictured, but nonetheless noteworthy, was a High Flyin' Airplane Birthday party (Happy 3rd Christian - yea, you know, the Mexican guitar player), which restored my faith in airline food, and "The Harris's got Talent" family talent show (check your local listings). But the majority of time was spent in general family togetherness and killing lots and lots of bunnies.

This is another example of that childlike no reference of personal space. Emery was very sweetly trying to hug a non-cooperative Alex good night at a slightly in-opportune time. Ahhh, family togetherness. We sure love you Emery.

And I can't leave out Thanksgiving. The main event: the rolls, which I did not make this year giving everyone something to be thankful for. Delicious!

Happy New Year everyone.