Iowa

Recently our Brother and Sister in law moved to Iowa to finish school. We were their best friends and they were devastated. We had not as of yet managed to make it out to see them in their new home since they left, so when the Anderson's announced their plans to visit them over Spring Break, Lance quickly chimed in "Oh yeah, well we are going to visit them next week". There. That ought to do it. Favorite in-law position solidified once again.

So with our energy drinks and 4 grocery bags full of treats in tow, we began the 15 hour journey across the country. We decided to make the trip in one shot by driving all night. It actually worked very well, even though the idea terrifies me. Alex was a trooper and slept fairly well in her car seat, and by 10 a.m. the next morning we were there. A little worse for wear and in a questionable mental state from lack of sleep, but there safely nonetheless.

There was basement ball

(no picture)

walks to the flooding river (awesome)

a trip to the "Meat House" (also awesome)

a belated birthday celebration for Maren (awesome)

this roofing company (which I thought deserved some free advertising)

And last but not least a trip to the zoo. This was by far the most amazing zoo I have been to. It's Iowa and cold for part of the year, so all of the exhibits had to be indoors, which allowed them to create multiple exotic habitats. There was a rainforest, a desert, butterfly enclosure, aquarium with a undersea tunnel, and they had penguins!

(This barrel was for shooting fish. Turns out it really is easy.)

There weren't many cages, letting the animals roam around their respective habitats sometimes close enough to touch. But they frowned on actually touching.

The lions were fat and sleepy and the tigers were angry and awake. These were in cages.

Our trip ended with a stop at McDonalds, and you all know how much I love McDonalds. Awesome!

(thanks Maren and Rob)

There's no place like Home

On March 4th at 9:30 a.m. Elder Tyrel Jan Beckstrand arrived home from a succesful mission. We were all really excited.

My entire family made the trip to the airport for the occasion, including an electronic version of my sister. Thanks to the airports free WIFI, Skype, and Corbin's fancy laptop we were able to channel Missouri and include my sister through cyber space.

Our family shares a unique quality that is even more obvious when we are all together in public places such as the airport. We have the pleasure of being taller than the majority of the population. Strangers tend to find this characteristic intimidating, terrifying, and by in large peculiar. So when we find ourselves in such places as the airport where we are surrounded by the regularly sized majority, it is quite comical to see the wave of reaction we evoke. You would have thought we were an alien race, which stereotype we didn't really help by talking to and laughing with a computer screen. However, the circle of isolation in which we found ourselves did not dampen our spirits in welcoming home our final alien who could not wipe the smile off his face.

This was the first time Tyrel met Alex. Wanting to make a good first impression, she dragged his balloons and candy all over the airport floor before handing it over to him. They hit it off instantly.

Temple Square, what homecoming would be the same without a trip here. Alex loved the giant Sheshu (Jesus).

Uncle Tyrel did awesome on his homecoming address. I never thought such wise words could come out of the mouth of someone who believes there is an art to making Kool-Aid. Missions are awesome!

And Alex learned that Grandpas are awesome. When no one else was willing to take her outside, Grandpa would rise to the occasion. He taught her how to pet a cat (no ear or tail pulling aloud), and helped her chase the cat down when she did those things anyway. They pet the horses, played with the dirt in the garden and learned to drive the truck. She'll grow up to be a cowgirl yet.

We had such a large group, we held the luncheon at the High School cafeteria. I was comforted to know that the weekly lunch menu had not changed, however, they were much more insistent about only having ONE MILK!!!!!! This must have been a big problem because there were about seven signs each stating the same point distributed throughout the lunch line. The penalty for taking more than one was actually death, which I thought was a bit much. The number of signs was only surpassed by the number of "got milk" posters encouraging kids to drink more milk. It's Fillmore.

Alex and daddy went on a tour of the high school when they grew weary of mom's chatting at the luncheon. They found a mean eagle, a nice eagle, and the newly refurbished tennis courts. Nice. Millard High. Way to represent.

We also found other engaging forms of entertainment.

And speaking of engagement, Corbin got engaged this weekend. Hurray! That is an understatement. I've never seen my brother happier, which makes me the happiest sister of all.

Thanks to everyone who came down for the homecoming. It was great to see everyone.

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.