Fun at Canadian Tire

Our car got a flat tire the other night, so Mike put the spare on and a couple of days later I took the car in to Canadian Tire to have it repaired. It was going to take an hour to fix, so Emma and I browsed around the store while we waited. At first I wasn't sure if we could keep ourselves entertained for an hour - I mean, come on, it's Canadian Tire - but to my surprise, I was wrong!

Emma was excited to be in such a large store and not have to be in a stroller or a cart, so she just ran down the large aisle along the front of the store while I tried to keep up and carry both our coats, my purse, and the diaper bag. When we got to the end, I decided to grab a cart to hold all our stuff. Both our faces lit up when we saw what was waiting there for us! It was a cart with a small basket in the back to hold our things and the rest of it was a car for kids to sit in - equipped with a steering wheel, a horn, a seat belt, and rear view mirrors! This was our ticket to fun! Emma had a blast, and I was able to browse around a bit (mostly in the toy section).

As we made our way to the back of the store, Emma noticed a huge selection of bikes. I saw a few tricycles, so I decided to take Emma for a test drive. She loved it! She couldn't quite understand the concept of pedalling, so I pushed her most of the time. She even noticed a rack of helmets and insisted that she wear one (she loves wearing anything on her head as a hat). She looked so funny because the plastic packaging was still attached and it stuck out about 6 inches from the front of the helmet, but she didn't care. We only rode around on the bike for about 5 minutes or so because that's when I noticed the big sign that read "PLEASE DO NOT RIDE THE BIKES". Oops. Well, at least we had our "car cart".

Later on that day, we decided to bake some muffins together. I pulled a chair up to the counter for her to stand on and gave her her own mixing bowl, measuring cups and a measuring spoon. Each time I added something to my bowl, I added a bit to her bowl too. She ended up eating her sugar and flour with her measuring spoon, so I didn't bother adding anything like the sour cream, vanilla, or baking soda to hers for fear of what that stuff might do to her. Every time I turned on the mixer she looked at me with a huge, excited smile and tried peeking into the bowl. We had such a good time!

Max the Baby

My sister Heather and the family Williamson have a new addition to their home, a new baby boy born Wednesday morning. His name is Maxwell Scott Williamson, and he was born 7lbs and 7 ounces, completely naked. For more details, visit "The Wonderful World of Will" in the links section. We give our congratulations to the Williamsons for finally bringing another man child into the fold, hopefully we don't have to wait another eight years for the next one.

Max the Cat

This is an ode to someone who was a part of our family longer than my youngest sister, and who could have very well been near my age when he passed away. My family's pet cat, Max, was put down yesterday after fighting with kidney problems for over 2 years, and fighting with old age for over a decade. It was really hard to say good-bye because he was part of the family. I know people always say that, but I mean literally, he acted more like a person than a cat.

He wandered into our house one day in October 1989 as a well-taken-care-of stray. He had been neutered and was "potty-trained" and very well-groomed. Despite our efforts to find his owners, none could be found, so we gladly took him in. A few months later we took him to the vet, and he told us that Max was an "old" cat, but no one could tell exactly how old he really was. He was always very playful and social, and that was a huge plus, seeing as he was living with 9 other people in a small bungalow. He always liked to be where the action was, and he even refused to go to bed most nights if everyone else was staying up late and having a good time. He also enjoyed being friendly with guests who would come for a visit - making sure to stroke himself against their legs and even try to climb up on their laps if they would allow it.

When I was still living at home I had taught him to jump up into my arms - something he wasn't afraid to try with anyone, even if they weren't paying attention. But, unfortunately, as he got older, and was unable to jump very high, this trick turned into him reaching up with his front paws as high as he could and digging his claws into your legs. I guess maybe he thought climbing up into your arms was the next best thing. One of my favourite memories of him was when he was relaxing on the couch, and kind of stretched and lost his balance and suddenly fell off the edge of the couch. All of us in the room started laughing at him (it looked so funny!) so he slowly walked towards the doorway with his head kind of low, and just before he left the room he turned his head around to look at all of us, then turned around and left. It looked just like something out of a cartoon! We felt bad after that, but it was hard not to laugh even harder at the way he reacted.

Yes, I'm definitely going to miss that little guy, but I think my mom and youngest sister, Kimberly, are going to miss him the most. Kimberly doesn't know life without him (she'll be 18 at the end of the year) and, for the past 35 years, my mom has never been at home alone on an ongoing basis - she always had young kids at home, and when Kimberly started school, Max was there to keep Mom company. His friendly nature wasn't limited to people - he was also very popular with all the other cats in our neighborhood. He even helped raise some kittens from another stray cat we had for a few months. I don't know if we're reunited with our pets after this life, but I really hope so - we all really love that cat.

This is Sparta

Emma got into the recycling and found a bunch of empty cereal boxes, so I put one on her head to see what she looked like. She loves wearing hats, baskets, buckets, helmets, washcloths, bowls, anything that will stay on her head long enough for her to make it to a mirror, and she usually makes me wear a bucket on my head too. The box kept slipping over her eyes, so I cut out some eye holes, and then the rest of the costume just came naturally. She ended up looking a little like a Spartan soldier, so I snapped a few pics, though most didn't turn out as she kept charging at the camera. I don't believe in the philosophy behind many of the Spartan parenting techniques, but I can get in line with wearing armour and learning how to skewer.

The Number 29

I turned 29 this past Saturday, so far with no visible effects. This is the last year of my twenties and the last age a lot of people actually want to be (see Oil of Olay commercials-no link). Despite a lot of people trying to spook me with how near I am to 30, it's only when they start talking "Carousel" that age starts to worry me (see Logan's Run).

I woke up Saturday morning to a delicious breakfast in bed and some wonderful presents on the couch. I got a nice homemade card and Tammy surprised me with some books I've been collecting, while Emma came through with the Disney version of Robin Hood on DVD. My cousins, Joe and Steve, took me to the movies that afternoon, and then that night we were invited to a pizza party with the Olsen's at Kristie's house, which we attended of course.

We had Stake Conference the next morning, which is a gift in itself as I didn't have to get up for 7:00am meetings. We ran into the Walker's there and chatted for a long while. You forget how nice it is to see friends in 3D every once in a while. After Conference we headed to my parents house for some birthday enchiladas and the Toddler Olympics. The Toddler Olympics occurred when we were trying to get packed up to head home, and Emma and Lucy decided they wanted to race around the loop in Gramma and Grampa's house that's created by the staircase separating a couple rooms. They went around at least 20 times with hilarious results, and with Lucy winning most of the races. Emma likes to pursue rather than be pursued. To Lucy's credit, I think she's faster than Emma anyways, but next week is shot put, and we'll see who dominates there.

I had a great weekend. If I were to make any goals for this year it would be to get in better shape. I'm supposed to be in the prime of my life, and 29 is a prime number, so why not?

Kids is Kids

Emma found my Aaronic Priesthood manual today, and wanted to read it with Dad, so I sat down with her and we flipped through it a while. There's not much in there for the toddler mind besides big numbers in the corners, but there's a bunch of pictures in the back that relate to the lessons, so we turned to those. We were looking through them and discussing what we saw when we came to a picture of the disciples wrapping the dead body of Jesus in some white sheets after he had been crucified. I didn't know how to explain the image to her. She's familiar with who Jesus is and I could see a little concern in her eyes, especially since the painting depicts a gaping wound in his side. I paused and then whispered to her that this is when Jesus died, but she turned to me and said "Jesus is sleeping". I thought that statement was as accurate as any, so I agreed and we flipped to the next page which shows a resurrected Jesus talking with Mary Magdalene outside of the tomb. I said to her this time "Now Jesus is awake" to which she gave a cheerful "Good morning Jesus" and gave him a little wave. You probably had to be there to fully appreciate it, but we thought it was very sweet of her to say and she seemed so very pleased that he was awake again, that I wanted to jot it down for posterity's sake.

Dancing Queen

Emma's been feeling quite under the weather this week. Her croup cough reared its ugly head again last Monday night, out of the blue, and then both Tuesday and Wednesday night she had a fever. Since then, she's filled her days (and nights) with lots of sneezing, coughing and phlegm. Just to play it safe, I took her into the clinic at Superstore to get her checked out. I always feel so embarrassed when I go there because as sick as Emma is at home, for some reason as soon as we arrive at the clinic she acts like it's her job to entertain the other patients in the waiting room. First she greets all the babies and small children in the room, by walking right up to them and saying, "aww", or just pointing and saying, "baby!" Then she will freely walk up to whoever is looking at her and say, "hi" or point out the colour of their coat, shoes, purse, etc, and feel the material if it looks appealing. Last November when we were there, she was in the middle of the room when a man walked in and as soon as she saw him, she said, "Dad!" then of course I had to say, "No, that's not Dad, you silly!" while ignoring the strange glances from others. Also, every time the phone rang at the clinic she would gasp and say, "Dad!" thinking that it's always Dad calling when the phone rings, right? During this past visit, she broke out into a dance in the middle of the room to the upbeat tunes that were playing over the speakers. An elderly couple that were playing with her earlier started clapping, so of course she continued until everyone in the room was clapping for her every time she paused. When we finally made it in to see the doctor, before he even checked her out, he said, "Well, she seems fine..." Of course everything did check out okay, so now we just have to wait it out until she gets better. Next time I'm bringing video proof of "sick Emma".

Small, Small, Small

This is all that remains of the snowman we built last month. We've received a lot more snow since then, but every time the weather is on the plus side, he starts to look less and less like a snowman, and more and more like the second Death Star.

What Was That Sound?

Earlier this afternoon, Emma and I were on the computer when we heard a strange noise coming from the kitchen. It sounded kind of like soup cans clanging together and falling on the floor. We had been grocery shopping earlier and some of the groceries were still in a bag on the floor, so I thought perhaps some cans had rolled off other groceries inside the bag. I wasn't able to determine if that was the case, so we went back to the computer, and a few minutes later we heard the exact same sound again. I said, "What could that sound be?" and then of course Emma (who likes to repeat everything we say) said "What could it be?" and we again went into the kitchen to investigate. We looked through the cupboards to see if anything had fallen inside and even searched the living room to see if anything looked suspicious in there, but found nothing, so we went back into the bedroom. Again, a few minutes later, we heard the same sound. I thought I might be losing my mind, but Emma definitely heard it too, so again, we went to investigate and came up with nothing.

Then, later this evening, I was throwing one of Emma's diapers away into the diaper genie, which we keep on our deck off the kitchen, and I finally found the culprit! There was a whole bunch of broken icicles lying on our deck! Immediately, I thought, "Yay! Our house isn't haunted!" and I proceeded to show Emma my findings. She thought they looked pretty cool, so I picked one up and brought it in for her to hold.

Then I showed her the rest of the icicles hanging off our roof and even reached up to knock a few more down. I don't know if it was the sound itself, or because the icicles looked kind of spooky the way they were hanging down against the night sky, but she immediately became scared and started crying a little. After a little comforting, she wanted to go look at them again. Then she said, "Reach up high" (pause) "Mom touch icicles" (making the hand gestures) "They fall down" (pointing to the floor). Then she would say, "Bye icicles. See you soon." She repeated these phrases and actions for the rest of the night - she was either pretty traumatized or thought the whole ordeal was a great way to end the day. Like I said before, I'm just glad we don't have ghosts.