Lola

We went down for a visit to see the pups today, since we were second in line to pick, and all but 3 are claimed, there was quite a line behind us waiting for us to make our decision. After spending some time with them, we made the very tough call. We are going with "red".

Watching her and observing her build, coat, markings, etc. We came to the conclusion that she's the best. It was a very tough call against mint green. Red is the most playful and a bit bigger. Mint was a dainty little lady, we were told she is the cleanest eater and quite relaxed. These were VERY tempting attributes, but when all was said and done, Red's personality and build won out. **You can all laugh at us in a year or two when we have this ball of curiosity and playfulness when we could have had a proper little lady, but what can you do? Our guts said Red-- she was our Lola. We also decided that environment will also have a heavy hand in how our little girl turns out, and we are laid back people, and these dogs are still so little, so it's hard to tell what's going to happen at this point. So meet Lola, she will be coming home to us the weekend of the 23rd. We can't wait, and as my dad put it, "say a prayer for the idiots".



**I had to add this picture, it wasn't in my radar when I looked at the pics we took the first time, but found the belly rest fairly funny today. I think she likes the shelf.**

I'm a Mormon in Cedar Hills Utah

I just have to speak out about what is going on in my town.

First off, I live with my family in a town in Utah that is (according to a statistic I read) OVER 90% LDS. As you may imagine, this has made it a crazy hotbed of religion crossing over to secular decisions over the years. Before 2005 apparently, there was a law against businesses being open on Sunday and also a law against beer being sold in the town. In 2005, a referendum overturned this and now it is ok. For all my non LDS readers that may not know too much about my religion, we are urged not to drink alcohol and we also are urged to "keep the Sabbath Day holy" which basically translates to having a day of rest- rest from everyday work, school, eating out, shopping, etc.)

Enter Walmart. It opened it's doors this year around March, and underestimating my "quirky" town, opens it's doors on Sunday like every other Walmart in the country. Now, we all know how I feel about Walmart, but let us leave that for this post, as it has nothing to do with this issue. It is no secret that the store is doing poorly. Is it the economy? Perhaps. Location? Doubtful, as there are very few stores in the area. There IS a petition going around however on people banning it out of principle until they close their doors on Sunday. How many people are actually doing this and making a true impact on the sales? I have no idea.

Why is this happening? Someone PLEASE logically explain it to me. As already stated, I am a Mormon, I try my best at keeping the Sabboth Day holy. I drive past stores open on Sunday and guess what? I don't go. (In all honesty, I am not perfect at this. I admit to picking up a thing or two on Sunday if I need to. It isn't ALWAYS medicine for a dying baby, but it also is never a full cart of stuff that can't wait.) I also have been known to go out to dinner with family on Sunday on occasion. It is never mine or my husband's choice, but if someone is in town that is going out and we want to see them, we go, because we feel like it is also important to spend time with family, even if they aren't LDS and share my beliefs, but they do have limited time during the week to see us (or during vacation out here). So, in light of that,* gasp*, I'm not perfect, but I do try, and I weigh my decisions and I once in a while, *gasp again* make a mistake.
Back to driving past a store on Sunday and not stopping to shop, that is called "choice" or as my religion likes to call it "free agency" I am faced with a decision of what is right and what is wrong and I chose one. As I understand it, this is a fundamental part of being a member of my church. We follow the teachings of Jesus, and Jesus is the one in heaven that decided we should all have free agency (Satan was the one that wanted no choices for anyone). I use my free agency everyday. I don't always make the right choice, but having a choice is life. I believe I am blessed more when I have a choice and make the right one then when I do the right thing because there is no other option.

With all this in mind, why are people in my town so bent on losing all choice? There are (albeit few) people in my community that aren't LDS. Which actually boggles my mind as I think if I weren't, there would have been an Emily shaped hole in my wall long ago. I was at the park the other day and some guy I met asked me point blank what ward I was in. You know what? I was offended. Don't get me wrong-- I am proud to be a Mormon, I think it's a nice thought that perhaps my countenance led this guy to believe that there is no way I am anything but Mormon, but I think more likely, he "played the odds" and asked me because there is a very good chance that I do in fact belong to a ward. I was offended for the nice mom that may not be LDS and has to answer that question for the millionth time.

A funny thing about me is, I like diversity. I like differences in people. I like being around people of other religions, race, shape, hair style. So why the *beep* am I in this town? Rob and I ask ourselves that everyday. We don't belong here. We don't feel comfortable here. We don't want to raise our children here. I want Scout to experience choices, so she knows how to handle them. I want her to know that she doesn't have to wear shabby chic or Sundance chic (a style sported around here I have labeled myself), she doesn't have to have her house decorated a certain way, because everyone is different and that is the spice of life. There is no spice here. In fact, spice has been sucked out of every corner of this place and it wilts me. Rob and I are wondering when exactly the Mayor and the City Council will just screw it already, and build a huge city wall around the town and make you scan your temple recommend for entrance. Because that is what it feels like they really want to do, that WOULD pretty much secure that no LDS people may enter and bring their non Mormon ways into our dear city. Too much? Perhaps.

Anyways, I think I made my point and got a little off my chest. There is a lot more, but Rob needs the computer. Perhaps I will add a little more later, for now, I would like to close with a nice thing I can say about my town. My neighborhood does feel safe. I feel good having Scout play outside and even out of my sight for a minute or two at a time. I think it has more to do with the very quiet streets and traffic -which we had a more then modest amount of in our other residences- then to the fact that it's a very Mormon neighborhood. The people that our back yard faces aren't LDS, ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh watch out!

I Am Citizen Insane

Let me stop here and point out that "I" is not quite correct, it is more "we" or more like this is totally Rob's brainchild, but I am now on board (but "we are citizen insane" is not the name of the Radiohead song so.....)

In a few weeks we will be announcing a new member of the family and I am not talking about Elinor. Rob is getting a puppy. It's not just any puppy either it is a Great Dane. I am announcing right here that we are insane because I know that getting a puppy and a baby within a few weeks of each other makes us totally off our rocker, and that is the feedback that we will most likely be getting from everyone, so it is fitting for you all to know that we know this.

Rob's obsession with getting a dog started 6-8 months ago and he has steadily brought it up more frequently. We have had a no animal policy since we were married and it's been nice. About a year ago Rob started mentioning he liked Weimeriners. So that was his first possibility until he found out they are high energy and need lots of exercise and space. He abandoned that thought, especially in light of our tiny back yard, and moved on to his second love- which are Great Danes. While these dogs are huge, they are also very nicely tempered and enjoy small spaces and relaxation. They have fairly weak hearts and so are limited in energy and actually only have a life expectancy of 7 years. Which is sad to think about, but not sad enough not to get one. I brought up an idea to get Scout a small pet before the baby so when Elinor comes, she might feel special. I was thinking hamster or even maybe a dwarf bunny. Rob started thinking puppies... He has located a litter that was born 3 weeks ago and will be ready to leave mama somewhere around Aug 25th. They are in Santaquin and while I worked a golf tournament, Rob took Scout down to see them (they were almost 2 weeks old at the time). She LOVED the puppies, handled the mama very well, but when daddy came along and wanted to play, Rob said he "scared the pee out of her... literally". The litter consists of 14 puppies! Only 3 are males, we decided before sight (and terror) we wanted a female. They have a puppy blog if you want to check them out (we are second in line for choice and think we are narrowed down to mint green (my favorite), red, and dark pink.) puppies are here. We are holding out our final choice until we can all meet them and see them as active puppies, for we are going to choose the one with the sweetest disposition and the calmest of the three.

We know it's insane, but we are sort of looking forward to the insanity! It's been just us three for so long, we can't wait to open our home up to two little girls and give them lots and lots of love. Rob is designing a table for the living room that will accommodate a tv, computer and a dog crate big enough for a Great Dane (let me tell you, that is a BIG crate) for she will be crate trained (it seems this fits Danes very well, they like the den like atmosphere), she will not be allowed on the furniture, and we have been warned to keep towels by all the doors for slobber. Rob has already looked into obedience classes that I believe we will all be attending (Scout needs to learn a little bit of power over the dog so she has a little respect). As for the puppy time, I am fairly worried about getting through that. I can't forget my brother Dave's Great Dane puppy Sundance that was bigger then Liz at like 3 months old but still an active, crazy puppy. I just don't want any of my kiddies to go splat. But, she (at least her puppy era) will not be allowed upstairs in the bedroom area (we may be putting the baby gate up early), and no furniture, so I expect to keep them safe.

AND which ever puppy we decide on, she already has the perfect name.....Lola.

Elinor's Heart

Yesterday was the big ultrasound and we are very happy to report good news. The ultrasound tech did a lot of measurements of all her internal organs and arms and legs, head, etc. We also got to peak at the 4 heart chambers and watched the little valves open and shut and pump it's blood. We listened and watched a ultrasound rendition of the heart beating and she told us that she didn't detect any abnormalities. She told us the doctor would be in to check for himself.
The doctor came in, looked at what the tech did, got a full account of her heart traumas as I had understood them thus far and then did his own thing with the ultrasound which mimicked what the tech did. He looked at all the brain sections (which the tech didn't do), he also went into a very long, in depth explanation of how the heart works and why some fetuses have an arrhythmia. Then we watched the heart again, he showed me what all the little beats meant and all the little sounds and said that her heart looks GREAT. It seems as if baby bean has corrected her little misfire already. He said it isn't unheard of to have it come back and develop into tachycardia (abnormally fast heart rate that can cause some major problems in babies), he did say that he has personally never seen it happen in his 20+ years of experience. That's good enough for me.

We also were notified again that her name is going to be Elinor instead of George, was told she is measuring 6 days bigger then her due date (bring on the 9/9/09), and that she is exactly 4.2 lbs at the moment, and also, she has long legs. In addition, we got a pretty good notion that all organs, brain, bladder, stomach, kidneys, etc are all functioning and formed well. I am quite sure her ears work, since every morning after a long silent night, Scout will come in and cuddle and start talking to me and little Ella starts moving around (it's a very cute thought to me that Scout's little voice will be familiar to her sister, just like mom and dads).

Little reassurances of her health do mean a lot.

A little announcement.....

In case the music doesn't clue you in, we have officially decided on a name:

Elinor

From this day forth, creepy baby george shall be known as either "Ella" or "Elle". YAY! Feels good to have this detail settled. We are indeed sticking to a literary theme for our babies, and one that makes lots of sense is a character from my very favorite Jane Austin novel, Sense and Sensibility. Since Rob is not a book worm like his wife, (and to tell the truth finds Jane Austin type literature particularly distasteful), calling the girl Ella makes lots of sense. Rob may not read a lot, but he sure likes Jazz and one of his very favorite Jazz singers is Ella Fitzgerald. So we are both happy. And hello! Groovy 60's song I've always loved rounds out the package nicely. We like Elle a lot too and figure they will both be used quite a bit, or one will stick better or someday- she may prefer one to the other. We'll see.

As for a middle name, we are not quite decided. Right now, the most likely candidate is Roxy, but it isn't cast in stone. I feel it balances the slight stuffiness of Elinor nicely, but we haven't explored that avenue much, we are just happy to have settled on a first name.

We got Scout's approval tonight, by the way, she poo pooed it at first and when I asked her what she wanted to call her baby sister, she said without hesitation: Cups.

I think we are wise not to go the Cups route, as that may invoke a little teasing now and then.

The Pirate of Cedar Hills and other stories

It's been quite some time since I posted a journal of funnies entry, so I got two (plus a bonus new dinosaur pic).

Scout - 4
Some months ago, Rob and I and Scout were shopping at the Smith's by our house and while leaving and as Rob was pulling forward out of the parking lot, a guy walked right in front of the car which inspired Rob to have to slam on his brakes. This guy happened to wear a plain black eye patch and wore long, fairly unkempt, vaguely curly hair. He gave us a look like were totally ruining his day (yes, pedestrians have the right of way, but MAYBE they should think about not walking right in front of moving vehicles from a blind spot). Scout asked us if he was a pirate and that tickled us greatly. The whole way home, Rob weaved stories about the Cedar Hills Pirate, they were all chock full of as many pirate stereotypes he could think of. Example: he was at Smiths buying Parrot food, his hook was being shined currently, and there were stories about being a land locked pirate living on your ship. You get the idea (we are awful). So that was a while ago (maybe 3 months?). A few days ago were were driving in Orem and Rob spotted a guy with the same general appearance standing on an intersection corner, he had no eye patch, but had a very crooked walking stick/cane thing. Rob said, "Scout! Do you think that is the pirate of Cedar Hills?" Scout was a tad disgruntled at the time and retorted, "Dad, you said he was just an old dude with an eye patch!"
Rob and I couldn't stop giggling, we remember her starting to get a little nervous about all the pirate talk that day and us ending it by assuring her that we were kidding and he wasn't a pirate. What we didn't remember and Scout was so kind to obviously remember verbatim-- exactly what Rob had said. We giggled mostly because it was the first time we had ever heard Scout say "dude".

Scout -4

Yesterday, I was tidying up the kitchen and Scout was sitting near the recycling garbage and watching me. She started playing with a milk jug that had been rinsed out some days ago, but had been sitting in a hot summer kitchen with some residual watery milk at the bottom for a long enough time to get nice and smelly. I wasn't paying attention and next thing I knew, she had spilled it on her clothes, hands and kiki. There was only a few drops, but certainly enough to make all those things nice and stinky. She was quite disgusted and smelled her hands and yelled, "mom! Why does it smell like toe?"

I may as well add this one, I found it quite funny and it just happened while writing the Cedar Hills Pirate story just now:
She was lying next to the desk and me while typing and looked around and noticed kiki wasn't around (a freshly washed kiki of course, she got put in the washer right after the milk incident, as it turns out, kiki isn't quite as popular smelling like toe -for either of us). I, for some reason teased her a little (I think I know why, I didn't want to be interrupted and have to stop to look for kiki). She started describing kiki to me (she's green and purple...) I tossed a small blanket that happened to be nearby on her and said "this is a blanket and it's purple". She said "it's green and purple" I said, "this blanket is purple", she- (starting to get a little perturbed) said, "it's GREEN and purple" then she snapped as that was enough teasing she could handle when it comes to kiki and said in a different, more serious, enough is enough voice, "it's KIKI you nut!!!"

Here is the latest dinosaur situation I have felt the need to take a picture of:

I think I am going to go through the posts and find all the funny dinosaur adventures my daughter has created and give them their own label. I guess I find the dinosaur adventures so funny because they are dinosaurs. If assorted dolls and little girl things were in their place, it wouldn't really fall under my radar. On a related note, I just noticed that she is holding up the piece of M&M she was saving for daddy. She found a half eaten package of M&M's today on daddy's table and I told her she could have them. She wanted to share them with daddy, so split them up. Needless to say, daddy's pile progressively got smaller and smaller until it was whittled down to one solitary, red M&M. Then, a little later she was eating it and said, this is the last piece, it's for daddy. For the record, that tiny sliver is still sitting on the desk, waiting for daddy to come home and enjoy.


As promised Cat, here is a taste of the kind of creepy munchkin like dance to Conor Oberst.
It's much better live action, but with a little imagination, you can fill in the blanks.