Tuesday, August 26, 2008

1st day of 1st

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It's a little bit tough to pull the proper picture grin that early in the morning but at least I got their hair combed.  There has to be a first for everything and probably the last as far as this school year goes (combs and water bottles have a way of disappearing in our home).

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This particular style of backpack wearing is called "the Rambo", of course they don't know that reference yet, but we of the backpack underworld know of these things.  My favorite is "the Kangaroo."

Frog Legs with a Side of Bacon, please.

I'm starting to wonder if it's such a good thing to have our alarm set to news radio in the morning. I "woke up" to the guy saying something about the weather, Barack Obama (the guy does get a lot of air time), and something about an accident in Ventura, Utah where 100 kids were in an accident and only 12 survived. I lay there half awake with one arm still numb thinking "that's horrible" and then fell back to sleep.

Later today Chris and I were driving somewhere and I told Chris about that story we "heard" on the radio this morning. I mentioned the "facts" after which he clarified the story. It turns out the accident was in Pintura, not Ventura (that made sense since the only one I've heard of is in CA). The vehicle, which I thought must be a bus, was a semi truck and the passengers were not kids, but pigs, numbering a hundred and sixty, leaving only 60 alive. I was first relieved, then in need of a tissue to dry the tears from laughter, then I took a moment to mourn the pigs lost in the tragic accident and frugally wondered how many they could quickly turn into bacon ("waste not, want not"-Herbie Hancock). Ooops, I mean mourn again and sympathize with Miss Piggy, no wait, she had a thing for frogs, never mind. Time to change the alarm clock to the beeper, or at least verify my facts an hour or so after I've woken up.

(I should mention that Chris heard practically the same thing I did this morning only he's the type of person to go to the source, not just take words sent to dream riddled minds as fact. Maybe our radio or reporter cannot pronounce 'p's, thus kids for pigs and Ventura for Pintura).

kermit and Miss Piggy

If you care to read the real story click on the link below:

http://www.ksl.com/?nid=148&sid=4098268

Thursday, August 21, 2008

Golfing with Gas

Dr. Minivan (see link for the Dr.)managed to squeeze through our front door and pay us a therapeutic visit at our dinner table tonight. The session started with Reed asking if "Barak-a Obama" was going to be the next president. We, his parents, expressed our hope that he wouldn't. Reed then told us that next year he was going to vote for Tiger Woods. Chris and I both thought he would be a better candidate. At least the future president's trips to Camp David would be more interesting and hopefully televised on the newly landscaped backyard with better sand traps and greens. We then asked the boys if they knew who the other guy running for president was. Thankfully they did even with the extremely biased media coverage.

Golfing Nixon Golf with Tiger

As an aside to our conversation, or at least in between breaths, Douglas told us that he knew how to take his head off. We tried to act surprised when his head slipped inside of his shirt in an amazing disappearing act. Wow. Dr. Minivan approved of our enthusiastic support of our son, even if it was somewhat forced.

To Dr. Minivan's shock, he heard Isaac, who had left the table after his one and only bite of dinner, ranting in the living room in various tongues. Not so much in French, but the more innocent variations or dialects expressed by three year olds with too much exposure to 8 year olds in Michigan parks. We told the Dr. that we are working on the bad words but get confused with what approach to take. Overreaction gets him to say it more (in between giggles). Trying to ignore it gets him to say it louder until we have to react. Putting him in his room isn't a punishment anymore for some reason. In fact he's even started putting himself on timeouts in his room. The Dr. didn't have any ideas, so if any of you in Blogland have any suggestions, please share.

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After everyone ate their quota of at least one bite of pizza and one cucumber slice (and the Dr. his lick of corn oil), all the patients started looking for things to play with and new things, like jets, to talk about. As a final thought, Douglas told us "I know who all the presidents vote for, they vote for themselves."

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I wonder if the candidates know to do that, especially the one who has never voted on anything important, never done anything of note during his nearly-eternal 4 year service in the senate, never answered a question, has visited all "58" states, has admitted he's smoked marijuana, doesn't want his daughters "punished with a baby" for promiscuity, was utterly shocked after 20 years of church attendance when he learned his pastor was a racist, and is an absolute idiot (sorry, Isaac's French is wearing off on me)? Well, Dr. Minivan is concerned that I have such strong opinions, that my kids don't eat, that one of my sons may have Tourette Syndrome, that my children are so active in politics and golf at the age of 6, and that all I could find to feed him was corn oil. I'm not sure when we'll meet again, but I have the feeling we'll keep these sessions confined to the van and we'll most likely take a trip to the gas station for some good ol' 89 octane, maybe the kind with Techron, mmmm...

techron

Saturday, August 16, 2008

Dantzel's Dancing Dinosaurs Dig for Dandelions, Dianthus, and Dripping, Dark, Dungeon-esque Dens.

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***warning, another long blog***

My dad came into town last Saturday and he left for home today, a week later. We thoroughly enjoyed his visit and had a wonderful time but I must say I am beat from the experience. There were two purposes to this trip, other than to visit his kids and super adorable grandkids. The first was to work on the yard and the second was to take us all camping. As I sit here typing I know that once I try to get out of this chair I will be fighting the effects of rigor mortis. The plus side to my exhaustion is that I probably lost at least 2 pounds and gained a couple muscles, or became aware of their existence, ouch. With the help of my dad, my sister Erin, my bro-in-law Bill, Chris the man, and of course Becky the weakling, we finished our yard projects with success.

The fun part of this visit was the camping and all of the extras that come with adventures in higher elevations. Not that digging in dirt, actually it was mostly clay and rocks, isn't fun, but getting dirty through good clean labor isn't as fun as getting dirty because one of your children had sticky hands, rubbed them in dirt and then wiped them on your clean shirt.IMG_0680 [800x600] IMG_0597 [800x600]

We decided to go to a camp ground called Tony Grove which is near Bear Lake. Wow! It was beautiful! After a nauseating drive up the canyon it was well worth it to look upon a mountain covered in aspens, pine trees, and wild flowers (which I believe are illegal to pick, oops. Well you tell 7 kids under the age of 6 not to pick flowers and see what kind of result you get).

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Just up the road from this camp ground is a lake which, of course, was made for skipping rocks and falling into. Chris was trying to teach all of these seven under 6ers how to skip rocks but, unfortunately, in the process one of his apprentices stood up right as he was demonstrating the release and skip movement and got pegged in the head. She, Alyssa, survived after a good cry and a piggy back ride from the assailant a.k.a. master rock skipper. He is penitent and will no longer allow apprentices with sudden standing up tendencies to crouch in front of him during said demonstrations.

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That night I only got up 3 times to go to the bathroom which was better than some. With a deflating air mattress and a TWB (teensy weensy bladder) I had many opportunities to gaze up at the stars in the oh-so-clear sky. Besides seeing the Milky Way, I saw a few constellations with the help of my bathroom buddy, Chris (who wants to go to those nasty holes in the ground by oneself, eeewww!?)

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I somehow must have gotten enough sleep because the next day we took a hike, and not just any hike, it was more like a trek. Lets just say that my toenails still hurt and one of those newly discovered muscles, the Gastrocnemius, made an appearance. We went around a mountain, up a mountain, down a mountain and then to a lake guarded by two large peaks called Gog and Magog. We couldn't tell which was which but they were both quite foreboding. Our 8 mile hike ended and I was so exhausted that once I stopped and sat down I couldn't get up for at least half an hour, even after Chris rubbed my feet (he's such a sweetheart).

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After the camping came to it's wonderfully dirty end, we completed our vacation by staying in a time-share condo by Bear Lake. I love running water and flush-able toilets! To finish off our trip we drove up to a big cave called Minnitonka. Driving with several children in a car can be quite grating on one's highly polished patience, not that I have such a thing, but it can be for those of you who might and need the forewarning. We decided to switch it up a bit by putting Erin's daughter Danztel with my sons Reed and Isaac. It was so wonderful! Reed is 6 and Dantzel is 4. The two of them talked about dinosaurs the whole time. Reed had a bunch of plastic ones and a big dinosaur map with pictures all over it. Reed was like the absent minded professor with the beautiful girl telling her all about the size, nature, and eating habits of each beast, not even realizing that he my be boring her to death. Fortunately, the beauty of this travel companion was her interest in the subject. Only, she took a different paleontological view when the dinosaurs she was holding fell in love, started kissing and then dancing to the music I was playing in the car. Reed just looked at what she was doing with half a grin, raised eyebrows, and a slow sideways shaking of his head. Girls.

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The cave was great! 40 degrees, lots of steps, stalactites and stalagmites, dripping water, and a very informative tour guide. We found our way out, then our way home and back to our own wonderfully comfy beds, ahhhh....cave and dinosaur free, well except for those romantic ones.

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Friday, August 15, 2008

Isaac displays the proper method for throwing a rock while keeping your pants on.

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There, it's gone!  Did you see it?!

He is sooooo cute!  Well, he is!  Truth is truth.

Mary had a little lamb...yummy!

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Yes, I know I'm twisted...

The Family Reunion

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Mike, Melissa, Lacey and Jake

Alas, the Humphrey Family reunion! Eight years ago Chris brought me to his family reunion while we were still dating.  At the moment I sampled the family's mutton and scones, I knew I must be a part of this family! Delicious-ness! Besides the food, it's always nice to see familiar faces and catch up on what goes on outside of our own little family world. I still don't know half of his relatives but when your spouse is related to more than half of Emery county there is a certain challenge when it comes to introductions. "Hello, may I introduce you to Castledale, this is Orangeville and the tall one over there is Huntington, glad to meet you!" What I do know is that Chris has one of the most wonderful families ever and we've sure missed seeing them and eating that mutton these past 3 years.

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Christmas 2017- The Case of the Giggles

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