Friday, September 28, 2007

First Visitor

We had our very first visitor! In fact, Grandpa Turner was so early that he caught us in our very last night at the hotel! We took him on the deluxe 5-minute tour of the base (which is oh, so lovely) and went to eat. He stuck around the next morning to help us move in, and because there wasn't much for him to do, he got stuck with "Kyle Duty." He and Kyle took some toys and snacks out to the backyard and played all morning. Kyle basked in the one-on-one time and exclaimed, "Grandpa and I are having a party!"


The visit was much too short, but we hope he'll be back again soon. And hopefully he'll bring Grandma with him.

Thursday, September 27, 2007

A New Definition

My life is finally returning to normal again. Well, a new definition of normal anyways. My body is remembering what it's like to feel peace and security. My shoulders are relaxing. The headaches are subsiding. We're attempting to establish some sort of routine.

Update: We're in our house!!! I should've added at least 2 or 3 more exclamation points. That's how excited I am. We had a very pleasant surprise when the moving company called and offered to deliver our household goods (note the military lingo) 10 days earlier than expected. They came, they delivered, and we're slowing unpacking, organizing, and making it our space.

The good news is that everything arrived in better condition than I expected. The bad news is that they lost a box. Oh, and it's not just any box. It's just my luck that out of 200+ boxes, the one box they lost would be my PHOTOS. Yes, we're talking high school photos, college photos, wedding photos, studio portraits. You name it, it's in there. My only saving grace is that I brought all of my digital photos with me. They say they'll try to track it down. You can bet we're not going to stop bugging them until they do.

Kevin's boss was kind enough to give him a week off to get settled. Other people might decide to use that week to actually finish unpacking. Not us. We've decided to take advantage of the vacation time and head down to San Diego for a day or two! We'll spend a day at Sea World, a day at the beach, and cram in as much fun as we possibly can before we come back and really, truly dive back into real life. Wahoo!

Sunday, September 23, 2007

The Currant Bush

By: Hugh B. Brown

"You sometimes wonder whether the Lord really knows what he ought to do with you. You sometimes wonder if you know better than he does about what you ought to do and ought to become. I am wondering if I may tell you a story that I have told quite often in the Church. It is a story that is older than you are. It’s a piece out of my own life, and I’ve told it in many stakes and missions. It has to do with an incident in my life when God showed me that he knew best.

I was living up in Canada. I had purchased a farm. It was run-down. I went out one morning and saw a currant bush. It had grown up over six feet high. It was going all to wood. There were no blossoms and no currants. I was raised on a fruit farm in Salt Lake before we went to Canada, and I knew what ought to happen to that currant bush. So I got some pruning shears and went after it, and I cut it down, and pruned it, and clipped it back until there was nothing left but a little clump of stumps.

It was just coming daylight, and I thought I saw on top of each of these little stumps what appeared to be a tear, and I thought the currant bush was crying. I was kind of simpleminded (and I haven’t entirely gotten over it), and I looked at it, and smiled, and said, “What are you crying about?” You know, I thought I heard that currant bush talk. And I thought I heard it say this: “How could you do this to me? I was making such wonderful growth. I was almost as big as the shade tree and the fruit tree that are inside the fence, and now you have cut me down. Every plant in the garden will look down on me, because I didn’t make what I should have made. How could you do this to me? I thought you were the gardener here.”

That’s what I thought I heard the currant bush say, and I thought it so much that I answered. I said, “Look, little currant bush, I am the gardener here, and I know what I want you to be. I didn’t intend you to be a fruit tree or a shade tree. I want you to be a currant bush, and some day, little currant bush, when you are laden with fruit, you are going to say, ‘Thank you, Mr. Gardener, for loving me enough to cut me down, for caring enough about me to hurt me. Thank you, Mr. Gardener.’ ”

Wednesday, September 19, 2007

Shock

We're here. In the desert. It REALLY IS a desert, by the way. It's not an exaggeration. I think perhaps, I underestimated, or overestimated, what we were in for. There's lots of wind. Lots of dirt. And lots of sun. We have lots of desert friends: namely, coyotes, snakes and other friendly creatures. Luckily, we arrived at the right time. It's finally cooling off and is actually very pleasant outside.

Good news: We got our house today. It's a duplex, but it's three bedrooms and is practically brand-new. It has a garage, more storage than we've ever had, and a yard that I can not only plant flowers and a garden in, but is actually fenced off so my little boy can play! And there's grass! Quite a feat in the desert.

Bad news: Our household goods cannot be delivered for two weeks. So until then, we stay in a hotel. Kyle and I are going to go crazy.

In case you couldn't tell, I'm trying to be positive about all of this. One of these days, I'll post the picture I took of Kevin upon our moment of arrival at the base. He's not doing anything special, but his expression says it all: "What the #$&% have we done?!?!"

I think we're just in shock. Here's hoping the shock passes and we adapt quickly to our new environment. And in the meantime, a few extra prayers for us couldn't hurt!

Saturday, September 08, 2007

Out of Commission

Due to the lack of a computer or internet, I'll be taking a leave of absense for a week or two. But for those of you in Utah, hopefully we'll see you next week! And in a week or two, I should be writing you from sunny CALIFORNIA!!!

Beach Fever

The end of summer always makes me a little melancholy. While I'm eager for cooler weather, jeans, pumpkins & spices, and cute autumn decorations, I miss the carefree days of summer. And I suppose I've been extra spoiled this summer because I've got some serious beach FEVER! Lucky girl that I am, I'll soon get to partake of mild weather and beaches almost year-round! Here are a few of my favorite beach pix of the summer...

Boogie Boarding! Love it!!!

A playground on the beach? What could be better than that?


King Triton. Not really, but that's what Kyle called him. And I can't actually remember his name. God of the Sea? Anybody?


Little Beach Bum.


We could definitely get used to this...

Lessons in diversity

Conversation overheard earlier today:

Tim: "...My brother and sister are black and I'm white."
Kyle: "Oh."
Tim: "And kids in my class are brown and black."
Kyle: "What color are you?"
Tim: (snort of frustration at ignorant younger playmate) "What do you think???"
Kyle: (looking down at Tim's red t-shirt) "Red?"
Tim: (shaking his head) "I'm white. You are, too."
Kyle: "Oh."

Thursday, September 06, 2007

Oldie, but goodie

You probably remember this commercial:

"Mr. Owl, how many licks does it take to get to the tootsie roll center of a Tootsie Pop?"


"Let's find out. One, two, three." CRUNCH!


"Three."


How many licks does it take to get to the tootsie roll center of a Tootsie Pop?


The world may never know.


This commercial had Kyle in stitches this morning. Apparently he'd never seen it, which makes sense since it's got to be at least 20 years old. (Wait, make that 37 years old. I just googled it. 37 years old???) And his laughter was contagious. We were both giggling by the time they'd shown it for a third time. It must ring a little too close to home.

FYI: the number of licks ranges from 100-5800, with the average being between 600 and 800.

Also, you've heard the rumor that if you find a *star* on your Tootsie Pop wrapper and turn it, you'll receive a prize, free lollipop, etc. Well, it's NOT TRUE! What a bummer...

Life's the PITS

Kyle's a man of routine. He likes things at a certain time and in a certain way. And bedtime is no different. Every night it's the same: I give him a bath, brush his teeth, read him stories, give him a drink of water, and scratch his back and armpits. Yes, I scratch his armpits.

The funniest thing about this is the fact that he's so darn ticklish. I can barely get one little scratch in before he giggles and moves my hand away. Yet, he insists upon it every night. Like I said, man of routine.

So I thought it was pretty funny the other day when he asked me to scratch his legpits. It was after a long drive in the car that he stood up, rubbed behind his knees and said, "Mom, my legpits are so tired. I need you to scratch them."

I don't know how long this routine will last. But I'm quite confident that someday I'll look back and laugh.