I looked out the window . . .

and what did I see?

It's been beautiful the last couple of days.  And isn't spring in the air kind of like a shot of adrenaline? It's been lovely to open the windows, let in the freshness, wear short sleeves, take Wyatt to the park.

And there have been some other Spring Things going on.  First big Spring Thing?  The Salt Lake City Marathon!  I didn't get to go see Forrest's first full marathon down in Mesquite, but Saturday was a blue-sky 70 degree day--the perfect day to stand on the side of the road and think, "Is that him?  No.  Is that him?  Maybe?  No.  Hey!  Look!  I think . . . "

" . . . is that the guy?  White visor, long stride, sexy legs? . . ."

"It is!  Run, Forrest, run!"

I'm always relieved when I catch my first glimpse of Forrest during a long race.  I don't know what I think might happen (dramatic collapses, pulled hammies, emotional breakdowns?) but he always comes jogging or biking past with a smile on his face and a little wave.  I met him here a little past mile 23, and for Forrest (and lots of people, I'm sure), mile 20 to 24 or so are the worst.  He told me later that he was having a little fantasy that he'd find me and say, "Hey babe, where'd you park?" and we'd just trot on over to my car and call it a day.  But when I asked him how he was doing he said, "Okay," and when I noted that he had 15 minutes to get there in under 4 hours, his original goal, I thought I'd try and be encouraging and say, "You can do it!  You can kick it!" and he looked at me with calm matter-of-factness and said, "No I can't."  (And, yeah, three miles, uphill on State Street, at the end of a 26 mile run?  Ummm, not gonna happen.)  As he tells it, he felt great up until mile 20, but then he was just out of gas: weak, and really hungry.  He ran past a Taco Time and had another fantasy that he could run into the restaurant and beg them to give him a taco even though he didn't have any money.  He'd give them his iPod for collateral.  He didn't, of course, but we did swing past the Taco Time on the way home and get a crisp meat burrito.  He came home and ate two bites. :-)

He ended up running it in 4:10, a few minutes slower than the marathon in Mesquite.  He was a little disappointed not to make it in under 4:00, but he still came in in the top 1/3 of all the marathon runners that day (300-something out of 1,000).  I thought he did awesome.  Whenever I'd look at the route, in fact, it'd make me just a little sick to my stomach at the DISTANCE involved.  Twenty-six miles is a heckuva long way to hoof it.

Anybody familiar w/ SLC can look at this map and realize how far this is. These people START running at the University of Utah, run all the way to 6200 South and I-215, run all the way down Van Winkle, then head back into Salt Lake City to the Gateway.  Anyway, I have a tremendous amount of respect for anybody who does it, and a ton of pride in my amazing better half and all he's able to accomplish.  Here he is coming in for the finish:

And now he's done marathon-ing, at least for a while, and in May, the triathlon-ing starts back up.  I wonder for how many years I'll be taking pictures of Forrest in his running clothes crossing a finish line?  (Many years, I hope.)

Another now-ubiquitous Spring Thing is baseball.  Ethan opted not to play this year (flag football instead--coming up soon!), so it's just Jonas.  Forrest is assistant coaching the team, the coach is great, and there's lots of nice kids . . . but so far they're 0 for 3, and kind of Bad News Bears-ing it.  They had a game tonight, and although they had a little rally in the middle, they still ended up getting pretty much creamed.  Last game, though, Jonas got a hit, threw a kid out at 3rd base, and scored a run, and ended up with the game ball.

I mostly like baseball cause I think he looks so dang handsome in his baseball clothes.

Here he is with his, "That was a ball, right ump?" expression:

(It was.)

And now Winter semester is wrapping up for me (grades due this week), but it looks like my Spring term class might carry, which means Tuesday AND Thursday nights.  Between teaching, Forrest's traveling, Webelos, and the kids' homework and extracurriculars, it's going to be busy nights at the Hallstrom House this Spring.

And in closing, two observations:

-Tracfone is of the devil.  I don't want to get into it (I DON'T!!!!) but, I'm not kidding, my Tracfone-related woes almost made me cry today.  Almost.  Instead I just threw a little tantrum.  I think I've spent at least 5 hours on the phone with "customer service" over the last month or so.  It's a ridiculous, terrible, horrible, no good waste of my time and sanity, and I'm thinking I might just cut my losses (about $45 worth of minutes) and WALK THE HECK AWAY.  Anyway, don't use Tracfone.  If only in solidarity with me and in remembrance of all I've suffered.

-I bought Ding Dongs at Harmons today.  They were on sale.  It was an impulse buy.  There are 12 Ding Dongs in a package.  I told the kids they could have ONE a day, but apparently they didn't "hear me say that."  Anyway, two kids (who shall remain nameless) were left home with one younger kid (you can figure out who he is) while Forrest and I went to Jonas's baseball game.  When we came home, there were FIVE Ding Dongs left in the box.  Five Dongs have been accounted for (Ethan confessed to two, Elise to two, Jonas to one) but there are two remaining Dongs unaccounted for.  We're pretty sure Wyatt didn't have any (too high up in the cupboard, hard for a 3 year old to eat w/out anybody noticing), so until the guilty parties fess up?  No more Ding Dongs at the Hallstrom House.

Let the mourning ensue . . .

Deep Breath & Jump On In

I've decided that blogging is kind of like laundry.  You stay up on it, you get in the groove, you keep things from piling up, the whole endeavor's pretty smooth.  Clean socks, clean posts.  You get the metaphor.  But wait too long and suddenly you find yourself with cute photos and pithy comments and startling observations and family anecdotes spilling out of your mental laundry basket and piling all over the floor of your memory and before you know it, you're crying Uncle.  It's all too much!  Where to begin?

All you can do is take a deep breath, buckle down, and begin at the beginning.

Over the last three weeks or so there's been a lot going on.  Birthdays (Elise, then Forrest, then Jonas).  Easter.  Trips to CA.  Terrible colds infecting every member of the family but Forrest, he of the iron constitution.  (Do you want to know how many packets of Theraflu I've used over the last two and a half weeks?  Well, I don't know exactly, but lots.  I had a wicked head cold for over a week, and I've continued to have a sore throat since Thursday, March 26th.  I keep thinking I'm better and then it keeps sneaking back up on me.  But I digress.)  Anyway, a lot has been happening, and I'm going to do my best to move through all these goings-on in a concise manner.  And this post is still going to be way too long.  But you'll bear with me, right?

First, Jonas's 9th Birthday:

Jonas invited a bunch of friends from the neighborhood over for cake and pizza, then we took the whole gang to go see How to Train Your Dragon.  (Yeah, movie-based birthday parties are easy sneeze-y, aren't they?) I really liked the movie, too.  Fun, great visuals, emotionally interesting, good script.  All around highly recommended.  Jonas and his buddies had a great time.  I'd just started getting sick the day before and barely dragged myself through the day, but I did it!  Then I collapsed.

I woke up on Saturday, glad to feel a little better so we could go to Grandma and Grandpa Sweat's Easter Egg Hunt.  It was a beautiful day, and (once again) the kiddos had a great time.

(I'm not sure what Ethan's looking for up there. The Easter Magpie?)

Sunday was good.  I stayed home from church and recuperated.  We had Forrest's family over for a combined Hallstrom b-day dinner, but Forrest headed the whole thing up and I just smiled wanly and tried not to breathe on anyone. I was absolutely certain that after spending a whole entire day resting, Therafluing, and blowing my nose, that I would be all better, just in time for Forrest's birthday.

Wrong-O!

Luckily Forrest is an understanding sort, because I was too sick on Monday to take any pictures or do anything super-special about his big 3-9.  I did give him a nice book (a collection of humor pieces from The New Yorker), a couple of new shirts (well received), and some khaki shorts (didn't fit, took 'em back). I also made chicken enchiladas.  So I wasn't completely worthless.  Just mostly worthless.

Then Tuesday was Vacation Prep Day, since we were gearing up for our big trip to Disneyland.  I felt a little better, which was encouraging, so I did my normal frantic packing and house cleaning and double checking of important items (toothbrush cases! cell phone chargers! baby wipes! travel size spray bottles!).  It was also Jonas's actual birthday, so I gave him a kiss on the head and made his birthday dinner request.

Then, on Wednesday morning, we piled into the Tahoe and off we went.  The kids did really well in the car, even Wyatt, and the 11-hour drive didn't seem too arduous.  The weather wasn't all that great--we had snow in Utah and crazy winds the whole way down, winds that made you keep your hands on the steering wheel at 10 and 2--but the time went faster than I thought it would.  Well, except for the time we spent in the Pizza Hut in Barstow.  Nothing like waiting for a pizza for 45 minutes, starving and itchy to get back on the road.  And there was this family in the booth across from us who was waiting too--a man, a woman, and a kid--and they sat there, completely silent, the whole entire time.  It was spooky.  And then my throat was too sore to swallow the pizza anyway.  Ugh!  (Are you tired of hearing about my cold yet?)

So, Thursday was Disneyland Day #1.  Here's our photographic proof:

I had to beg Ethan to be in this picture.  What, no posing with Dale when you're 13?!?!

Pure fun.

Wyatt on his Dad's lap on the Jungle Cruise.

Only Elise and Jonas wanted to go on this ride, one of those crazy contraptions that shoots you way up in the air.  As you can see from Elise's expression, she was having second thoughts once they got her all strapped in, but she bravely completed her mission.  I couldn't have done it.

Yes, this is a waiting-in-line shot.  (And they might have been hamming it up just a bit.)  Thursday was crowded, but it was NOTHING compared to Friday!

We left Disneyland a little early on Thursday and met my parents who'd just gotten in for dinner at Buca.  Mmm!  Non fast food!  Then we tucked ourselves in for a nice rest in preparation for a full (crowded) Friday at Disneyland.

This is a shot of the crazy line at the Pirates of the Caribbean ride on Friday.  It was actually a relief to get in line, because at least then you weren't being jostled everywhere and worried you might loose your 3-year-old.  And speaking of that 3-year-old--he'd done such a good job going on big boy rides on Thursday (he'd done Pirates of the Caribbean, the Matterhorn, all that--there are definite benefits to having a tall preschooler!).  But . . . I'm afraid we get the bad parenting award for pushing things a little too far and taking poor Wyatt on the Tower of Terror.  I hadn't quite remembered how scary it was and the poor kid emerged from that ride shaking in, yes, terror, so on Friday he was veeeerrry suspicious about going on any more rides.  Once we got through this line to do the Pirates ride (this time with Grandma and Grandpa and Amy and Dave), Wyatt would have nothing of it.  "No scary pirates, Mom!  No scary pirates!"  So I waited outside the ride with the Wy-man for that one.

One thing Wyatt DID really like was the Buzz Lightyear ride.  Here he is with Grandma Sweat, shooting his guns:

There's another really cool new Toy Story ride over at California Adventure that's a lot like the Buzz ride--except it's in 3-D and it's a lot easier to tell if you hit something.  That one doesn't have a fast pass, though, and the lines were always really long, so we only got to go on it once.  But Wyatt loved that one, too.

Here's Amy, Dave and kids on the Small World ride.  I would have taken a picture of my dad on the Small World ride, but he exercised his right he's earned as Patriarch of our family to bow out of any It's A Small World rides, now and in the future.  He's done his time.  He's earned the privilege.  My mom sure loves the Small World ride, though.  There's something soothing and nostalgic about it, don't you think?

Some cute cousin shots from Friday:

"And then--you're not going to believe this--my parents strapped me into this malfunctioning elevator.  Full of ghosts!  And everybody was screaming like they were going to die, and the room was pitch dark, and I started thinking it was about time I get things straightened out with my maker.  Then all of a sudden the doors opened and everybody was smiling and laughing like it was some big joke.  I mean, seriously?  Seriously."

"Dude.  I don't know what to tell you.  That's all kinds of messed-up."

The big hit of the day, at least among everybody over 42 inches, was the California Screamin' roller coaster.  We even talked Grandma into riding it.  Once.

Gotta love that picture.

We had an early entry pass for Disneyland on Saturday, and since Wyatt was waking up every morning at 5:45 anyway (ah, traveling through time zones and staying in hotels with little ones) we thought we'd use it.  And I'm so glad we did!  We were able to go early on Saturday morning and rode a lot of the rides we missed without having to wait.  We even had the presence of mind to get a family picture:

By Saturday, Wyatt had recovered from his Tower of Terror scare and really enjoyed Splash Mountain and Big Thunder Mountain Railroad.  We didn't push our luck and put him on Space Mountain though (rounding out the Disneyland Mountain Triumvirate.)  I do enjoy Space Mountain, myself.  An oldie but a goodie.

We left before lunch to meet Amy and Dave and my Mom and Dad (they'd all slept in) at Laguna Beach.  We weren't sure if it would be too cold for the kids to get near the water--it was only barely 70 degrees--but the kids decided to brave the waves anyway.  Even Wyatt!  It was a lot of fun.  And I sunburned my calves so badly that they still sting a little in the shower.  (Why am I so dumb?  I know that I'm going to burn even if the sun isn't all that hot, and yet I persist in believing that THIS time will be the exception.)  Here are some fun beach shots:

After the beach, we headed home, showered and changed and got some dinner, then headed back to Disneyland to enjoy the park at night.  I love riding roller coasters at night, don't you?

It was a great trip.  We headed out on Easter Sunday and were able to listen to a little bit of conference on Forrest's laptop, and it was heavenly to have all day Monday to recuperate, do laundry, and gear back up for real life.  (The kids had that day off of school.)  On Tuesday we jumped right back on the treadmill (Scouts, AML meetings, homework, baseball practice, Young Women's, work for Forrest, teaching for me, soccer practice, etc etc.), and I haven't had a spare minute until tonight to sit down and blog about it all.

And--hallelujah!!--now I have. 

Hopefully from here on out, things will be quiet enough that I can be content posting my opinions about Lost (still awesome--loved the Desmond episode!) and American Idol (getting better, digging Casey and Crystal) and Survivor: Heroes vs. Villains.  (Not Boston Rob!  Nooooooooo!). 

(Ha, you say?  Ah, well.)

But at least I'm back on the blogging train.

War in Heaven, Anyone?

So for all my fellow Lost-ies . . . wasn't last night's episode great?  Drama, emotion, ANSWERS.

And I don't know about you, but it seems to me that the whole light/dark agency-with-risk/sure-thing-but-no-progression War in Heaven theme that we Mormons know so much about is at the heart of the Jacob/Man in Black conflict.

And this is totally nerdy of me, and I'm supposed to be at the gym (sigh), but instead I'm going to do a little recapping.

First, the whole scene where MiB is giving Richard the dagger is strangely reminiscent of the serpent giving the apple to Eve in the Garden of Eden.  Richard knows that the MiB is asking him to commit a sin--murder Jacob--but the MiB is trying to convince Richard that Jacob is "the devil" and that there is "no other way" to get what he wants (his wife) unless he kills him.

MiB: The devil [Jacob] betrayed me. He took my body. My humanity. (!!!) The devil has your wife, and you are going to have to kill him if you ever want to get her back.

Richard: Murder is wrong.  That is what brought me here.

MiB: My friend, we can talk all day about what is right and what is wrong.  But the question before remains the same: do you ever want to see your wife again?

Richard: Yes. I do.

And the MiB hands him the dagger and off he goes.

Then the scene between Jacob and Richard on the beach:

Jacob: That man who sent you to kill me believes everyone is corruptible because it is in their very nature to sin.  I bring people here to prove him wrong. And when they get here, their past doesnt' matter.

Richard: Before you brought my ship, there were others?  What happened to them?

Jacob:  They're all dead.

Richard: But if you brought them here why didn't you help them?

Jacob: Because I wanted them to help themselves. To know the difference between right and wrong without me having to tell them.  It's all meaningless if I have to force them to do anything.  Why should I have to step in?

Richard: If you don't, he will!

Jacob: Do you want a job?  I don't want to step in, so maybe you can do it for me.  You can be my representative and intermediary between me and the people I bring to the island.

I also read Luke 4 last night (the chapter Richard's Bible was open to).  Was it wrong that I was searching for Lost parallels during my personal scripture study???   Anyway, some good insights there too.  The chapter is the one where Satan tempts Jesus (where they sit down and have a nice little chat, a la Jacob and MiB), and then the whole "no prophet is accepted in his own country" line and Jesus's rejection in Nazareth, along with the beginning of his miracle healings.  Also interesting  . . .

Anyway, thanks to my TiVo and my desire to avoid doing anything productive today--some juicy tidbits!  What did you think of last night's episode?

and p.s.--American Idol is outrageously horrible this year, is it not?

The Big 1-2

Last week was all about Elise. She turned 12 (I KNOW!) and had a lot of fun to show for it. It's hard for me to believe that my little girl has gone from this:

to this:

(Elise with her Grandma on the Big Day)

On her actual birthday (St. Patty's day, you know), she woke up to Harmon's doughnuts from Dad and took cookies to school to share with her class.  I told her I'd meet her at school with a special-ordered lunch (it's a new little b-day tradition that the kids are pretty excited about).  Elise chose Chick-fil-a . . . but little did I know that Chick-fil-a picked St. Patty's to do some crazy big promotion, so the lines were wrapped around the parking lot.  I had to frantically call the school to tell them to tell Elise not to fear, that I was on my way and she wouldn't go hungry on her birthday, but that I needed to swing by McDonald's instead.  I found her at her lunch table nibbling on a friend's fries, waiting patiently.  Although McDonald's "country chicken" sandwiches are a decided rip-off of Chick-fil-a's real thing, she was still pretty happy.

That night, Elise helped me make her favorite dinner, spaghetti and garlic bread, and both grandmas and grandpas came over to have some cake and sing Happy Birthday to Lou.  (Hey!  Those lyrics would fit:  "Happy Birthday to Lou, Happy Birthday to Lou!")  

In addition to the kicky new hat from Grandma Sweat Elise is wearing below, and a beautiful figurine from Grandma Hallstrom, Elise opened her Becoming Elise book:

Many of you helped with this book, and Elise and I are so grateful.  To commemorate her 12th birthday and her symbolic entry into adolescence and then womanhood, I decided I would make a book full of pictures and memories and advice from all the women in her life.  There was so much good advice and caring and support from so many of you, and it filled my heart with gladness to know that my daughter is encircled by so much love.  The book means so much to her already, and I know she'll treasure it all her life.  So thank you.

Then, after she opened the book, she pounced on present #2.  The present she's been yearning for over the last three years.  The gift that, for Elise, also symbolically represents her entry into teenagerdom (sigh).  Yes, Elise finally received a . . . 

Cell phone!

D'ya think she looks happy?  She's been doing a good deal of fiddling and texting and whatnot since Wednesday . . . but I have reminded her that, unlike many of her friends, she has a cheap-o TracFone and it does NOT come with unlimited minutes or unlimited texting.  I have a feeling there's going to be a bridge we're crossing when we soon come to it.

And you don't even want to HEAR my story about trying to transfer the minutes from Ethan's old, ruined, washed-in-his-pants-pocket phone (the one that made Ethan decide he didn't really want a cell phone after all).  In my attempt to hold on to all of those backed-up minutes, I was thrust into the third circle of customer service hell trying to get the transfer and activation figured out.  I guess my kids having cheap-o TracFones means that Mom isn't going to get top-notch (English speaking) troubleshooting help.  But after about three hours of getting transferred and misunderstood and generally run around, hallelujah!  The phone now works.  I'm not sure if those 250 minutes were worth it though . . .

(Hmm.  Looks like I told you the story after all.)

Then, on Friday, Elise had a small-ish party with her cousin Lauren, her "half-cousin" (as Elise likes to call her) Jane, and her two best friends Tayler and Haylie.  Here they all are, looking cute in the Big Chair:

After presents, we took off for Jordan Commons for dinner at The Mayan (cliff divers! bland, mediocre food!) and to see Alice in Wonderland:

The girls in The Mayan's waiting area

 At our table, right in front of the cliff divers!  

(Notice the sign letting us know we're in the "wet zone")

A little photo shoot outside The Mayan.

I love the shot on the serpent,

but when all the girls piled on for a picture

and this random kid in an orange shirt ran up behind them

and grabbed Lauren around the middle

just as I pressed "click" on the camera?

Priceless.

Alice in Wonderland was better than I thought it would be.  Granted, my expectations weren't too high since I don't really like Alice in Wonderland (my mom tells me that there's some psychological test that asks whether or not you're an Alice fan, and your answer's supposed to have some kind of meaningful insight into your psyche).  But it was a fun movie, and Helena Bonham Carter was great as the Red Queen.  I'm getting a teensy bit weary of the Johnny-Depp-as-Weirdo-We're-Supposed-to-Like character, but the visuals of the movie were strong and the story worked.  Alice was suuuuuper pale, though.  It was distracting.  Elise even leaned over and asked me, "Why is Alice so pale?" . . . and I couldn't come up with an answer, other than the fact that Tim Burton must think Pale People are all deep and thoughtful and interesting.  All the uninteresting girls in the movie looked much less sickly.  At any rate.

It was a fun night and the girls had a ball.  Elise's "birthday week" was capped off today by her entrance into the Young Women's program.  She stood up in front of the congregation and recited the 13th Article of Faith (she says it's the easiest one :-) and was so excited to go to Young Women's for the first time.  She's ready.  She's going to love it.

So Happy Birthday, my darling Lou.  We love you, and we're so excited to see what the next 12 years will bring!

Preschool? Already?

Yes, it's true. I just registered my baby for preschool this fall. He was so excited when I told him we were going to go visit the school (Learning Dynamics in Riverton)--he even asked if he could wear a back pack. And even though the child weighs almost 40 pounds, he's still my baby boy. Ah, it goes so darn fast.

I'm excited for him, though. He's really ready for preschool, and I think it'll be good for him--lonely little caboose-boy that he is. He's actually going to attend a 3 day a week M/W/F program with some of the other 3 year olds in the neighborhood, and I know he'll just love it. Plus, I'm hoping to do what I did back lo so many years ago when Jonas went to preschool: drop him off, then take my laptop somewhere and write for a while, then go pick him up. It was a good routine for me and forced me to focus on my writing. Although back then there wasn't wifi everywhere, so I didn't get sucked into the giant time-wasting vortex that is the internet (email! blogs! witty recaps of last night's television shows on Entertainment Weekly!). I must discipline myself.

And speaking of writing, I have an idea for a YA novel that's really coalescing. It's a dystopian novel set in the not-too-distant future, and with the success of The Hunger Games and other dystopian YA novels, I know the genre is pretty hot. I'm sure that, by the time I finish the thing, dystopian YA novels will be COMPLETELY passe--kinda like writing a vampire novel in 2010--but what the hey. I think I'm going to give it a shot. And I think I'm going to let my Mormon market novel that I started during NaNo sit on my hard drive for a while. It's not that I don't like the novel--there are a lot of things I like about it--but I'm really not sure if I want to write another literary(ish) novel for a Mormon audience. I'm just, I dunno, a little pessimistic about the market and my options if I continue to write for it. I might change my tune and return to it sometime soon (and I'm sure I'll still write some short stories or essays or even--ah!--poetry for LDS readers), but I'm not sure that pouring another couple of years of my life into this novel would end up being worth it. Kinda depressing, but kinda true.

Let's see, anything else? Ethan's band teacher asked him if he'd play the tuba next year, so that should be interesting :-). We're gearing up for baseball and Jonas's coach seems like a really nice guy. Forrest is assistant coaching, so that should be fun. And Elise is going to be 12 NEXT WEEK! Her feet have grown two sizes in what seems like three weeks; she's wearing a women's size seven. Seriously? Seriously. Then two weeks after Elise's birthday it's Forrest's birthday (the big 3-9), then Jonas's birthday, and then . . .

We're going to Disneyland! I knew there was something I'd forgotten to mention here on the blog. I'm not going to say when, though, so the thieves out there in internet-land don't try to locate our house and steal my jewelry. (Seriously, thieves, my jewelry box has like 9 pairs of cheap Target earrings, a half dozen tangled up necklaces, and a $10 ankle bracelet I'm too shy to wear. So, you know, nothing to see here, move along, etc. etc.) I'm excited about the trip, though. We haven't been to Disneyland since before Wyatt was born, but now that he's three we thought he'd really enjoy himself. And I admit I'm a fan of theme parks. Very uncool, I realize, but what can I say? I like a good spin on the Matterhorn.

And now back to work! I'm supposed to be cleaning out my closets. The changing of the seasons plus the fact that I dislike pretty much every single shirt I own is a sign that a purge is in order.

Negligent

My goodness, I haven't been a very good blogger lately.  But I refuse to be held hostage by my blog!  I haven't been any busier than usual, really.  Just not feeling the blogging mojo.  But today?  Today I suppose I'm feeling it.  Wyatt is asleep on the family room couch, still wearing his little green track suit jacket that he wore when we went to Target.  Forrest is off to the airport, the other kids are gone to school, so the house is quiet and still.

Mmmmm.  I love a quiet house.  Except for the fact that I still have this inexplicable tinnitus (eeeeeeeeeeeeee!) so I have a harder time following Depeche Mode's wise injunction to "enjoy the silence."  I'm hoping that my tinnitus will someday disappear, much like my inexplicable tailbone pain that went on for a year and a half and then suddenly went away last summer.  Forrest keeps telling me I should go to the doctor, but what do I say to that?  Doctor, schmoctor.  She's going to look at me and say, "Hmm.  Tinnitus.  Yeah, that's weird.  Now that will be $30."

So a few random updates:

-Got my hair cut and colored on Friday and I officially don't like it.  Too red.  Or too something--too fake looking.  Halloween-hairish.  Luckily Forrest has assured me that he DOES like it, and I believe him because he is not a man of hollow compliments, but I've had other responses ranging from concerned silence to my dad's proclamation that my hair looks "interesting," which is just about as opinionated as my dad ever gets when it comes to my personal life choices.  So, yeah.  Halloween hair is not a unanimous winner.  Luckily it will fade some with time.

So Andi and Amy and my one committed reader from India (the only people who might be interested in seeing the new 'do who might not have the opportunity), here's a shot of me, all hair-dyed, in my office chair.  Note that this is the-middle-of-a-Target-shopping-laundry-doing-day hair:

-I attended the AML conference on Saturday, in all my unnaturally tinted glory.  It was a lot of fun and I was able to spend time with some good friends and stand around in smallish circles of smart people nodding my head and appearing thoughtful.  And also giggling through a presentation of Corianton, the very first Mormon feature film ever made.  It was rescued from Orson Scott Card's mother's barn (long story) and has been painstakingly restored, so now we get to see the Nephite guy in the court jester outfit and the lascivious Zoramite temptresses gyrating around in Vegas-style showgirl costumes.  And dialogue ranging from, "Thou dareth not ensnare me!" to "Seriously, Shiblon."  It was a riot.  Grandpa, you would have loved it.

I also got to participate in a panel discussion of Dispensation which I thought went well--and was pretty well attended, which was nice.  Now if I can just get people to call it Dispensation instead of DispensationS!  (Yeah, yeah, Chris, you were probably right on that one . . .)

-Other than Apollo Ohno's speed skating, I never felt like I was able to sit down and really enjoy the Olympics like I usually do.  I even missed the Canadian ice skater's short program, the one she performed right after her mother died, which I hear was electrifying.  Dang!

-Tonight is Jonas's baseball tryouts.  Ethan has decided not to play this year, since he'd be moving up to Babe Ruth level and competing against fully pubescent 15 year olds with goatees.  He's going to do flag football again, though, which is fun (and a lot less stressful than baseball, which is also fun.)

-Elise is going to be 12 soon!  We're finishing up her Faith in God award (she taught a very nice lesson on the first vision last night to fill a requirement) and keeps trying to wear eyeliner.  Ahhh!

And now the kids are arriving and Wyatt is rousing on the couch and I need to make copies of my Webelos permissions slips.  And I promise I will post again in less than two weeks and two days.

Loverly

It's Valentine's Day!  We just finished up our Valentine's Day "Breakfast Dinner"--pancakes/eggs/bacon/french toast--the only dinner everyone in the family actually likes equally (I KNOW!).  Although we do have to make both pancakes and french toast since Ethan and Jonas, inexplicably, don't really like french toast, but Forrest and Elise and I all prefer it to pancakes (the sane opinion).  So . . . perhaps I shouldn't say that this is a dinner we all like either.


Really.  Is there no dinner we all truly love?  Could it be possible?  I think yes.  Jonas is our biggest monkey wrencher, since the only meat he'll eat is chicken of the nugget variety or hot dogs, which severely limits our options, and Ethan doesn't like Italian food with red sauce (suspicious of most pizzas, won't eat spaghetti).  I'm sure this turn of events is all my fault.  But that's not what this post is about.  It's about Valentine's Day!  Love!  Togetherness!  The eating of scrambled eggs!  (Prepared by Elise, who makes DELICIOUS scrambled eggs, lovely and fluffy and light.  And Jonas had a few bites.  It was a Valentine's Day miracle.)

Forrest and I spent our Mormon Valentine's Day (which is what Saturday the 13th of February is if V-Day falls on Sunday the 14th) in Moab.  At the last minute, Forrest took the place of a guy in our ward who hurt his back and ran the Moab Ret Hot 33 K trail race.  Why they call it "red hot" I'm not sure, since there was snow on the ground at it was about 20 degrees when the race started that morning, but it was fun to go and cheer him on.  Here he is right after the race, in front of the snowy Moab mountains.  He's holding a bread bowl full of really bad burned soup that they gave to all the runners once they finished.  Nice thought, bad soup.

Since I didn't get to go cheer for him at the finish line of his first marathon (remember the vomitorium?), we took advantage of the opportunity to have a little weekend getaway this weekend, thanks to Mindy and Pete and Forrest's mom and sister Chelle.  It was a quick trip, but it's always fun to get away and spend time just the two of us.  Forrest did a great job on the race--there was a 50K option (just over 34 miles), but Forrest did the more sane (but still crazy) 33k, about 20 miles.  Although the distance was shorter than a marathon, it was a trail race up in the mountains of Moab, so there were lots of hills to climb and rocks to jump down and slicky spots of ice to avoid.  Mountain-goatiness required.  But he came in faster than he expected.  I joined him at the finish line after spending a few hours in the hotel room writing (bliss!), and made it there just 5 minutes before he came around the corner.

Looks pretty chipper after running twenty miles up and down mountains in the snow, doesn't he?


In other news, I'm getting in the swing of things with Webelos.  They combined the two Webelos dens (long story) and now I have about 14 10-year-olds to whom I must teach the principles of electricity (yes, that's what I did last week, after much studying on the internet--did you know that many generators are gigantic spinning magnets?) and help to build catapults with clothespins and milk-carton tops.  But they're cute kids and I think I'm figuring things out.


I also had a dream that I turned my novel manuscript to an agent (and no, I'm not NEARLY anywhere close to turning in a manuscript to an agent) but that she cc'ed me on an email that she sent to other people making fun of me for using so many parenthetical asides.  It said things like "Get a load of this (crazy [super awful!]) novel and this writer (can she call herself a writer [she of the parenthetical asides])?"  It's true that I use a lot of parentheses in blog posts (ya notice?) but I don't in my fiction.  Much.  What I do overuse is the hyphen --- oh how I love the hyphen!  But, yes, my subconscious is not pleased with my new novel.  My conscious isn't much enamored with it either.  But I'm trying to take my own advice and let the rough draft be rough and, hopefully, hammer it into something.  Maybe.


And lastly: Survivor Heros vs. Villains!  I haven't been excited about Survivor in ages, but I've gotta say, the premiere was a lot of fun.  And Boston Rob!  (I've always really liked Boston Rob.)  Colby!  Stephanie!  The smarmy-apparently-Mormon-cyclist-guy!  Always glad to have at least one reality show to look forward to.  Survivor + Lost + Modern Family (my new favorite comedy) + the Olympics = some fun TV over the next few months.


So happy Valentine's Day to all of you.  Hope you had some chocolate, took a nap, felt the love.  I did.

I had the wherewithal to upload two videos to Youtube

So, for video number 1, I give you Wyatt, doing the happy dance to the birthday song (with Jonas as the videographer):



Video number 2, Ethan's second foray into standup comedy.  We all probably remember his debut standup performance in the 5th grade, but this year he decided to bravely go where no Hallstrom has gone before and do standup in front of the teeming masses that are junior high students.  Seriously, my kid is brave.  But he's also good.  He wrote all his own material, and although Forrest and I helped him a little with transitions, this routine is all him.  The video below was taken at the "family only" show, so there weren't nearly as many 12-15 year olds in the audience (lots of grandmas and grandpas who might not get, say, a texting joke), but he got a lot of great laughs even in our group.  But I hear the routine killed in front of its target audience.  He's been getting props from the junior high crowd all week.  So, I give you . . . . Ethan!



And before I forget--this isn't a video, but I keep neglecting to mention Elise's hard work and success with this year's science fair.  She did an experiment growing pea plants under different colored light (turns out pea plants like colored lights--they're festive that way) and did such a great job that she was one of 5 kids in her class chosen to go on to the school-wide science fair.  Great job Lou!

 

Gotta love the tri-fold board.  Do any of you remember trying to MAKE your own tri-fold board by taping regular poster boards together then dealing with the thing falling over, drooping on one side, propping it up in the back.  Oh, the misery.  I tell you, prefabricated trifold boards are, along with the TiVo, one of the great advances of modern life.  (Actually, we probably DID have prefabricated tri-fold boards when I was a kid, but taping together poster board was lots cheaper and had the added benefit of teaching me and my WVC peers to DEAL WITH IT!)

And finally:  Lost premiere!  Totally awesome.  Smoke-monster Locke, cheesy CGI sunken island, lucky parallel-universe Hurley, Charlie!  Loved it.  The only sad part was watching it alone.  Stupid traveling husband.  (HE's not stupid.  The traveling's stupid.  He's very smart and must make a living, I understand.  But it's lots more fun to watch Lost with the added benefit of his commentary and warm lap on which to rest my feet.)

Now we're off to Classic Skating.  Off-track activity #4, check!