Yellowstone (Finally)

First, yes . . . it's been a long time since I've updated my blog. Probably the longest I've ever gone, and that's saying something. But I've been in the thick of finalizing the manuscript for Dispensation, the anthology of short fiction written by Mormon authors that I've been editing for Zarahemla Books, as well as the Irreantum fiction and essay contests, and I've spent way too much time at my computer lately. So I've had computer guilt. But the Irreantum contests are put to bed and (hooray!) I sent the anthology manuscript off to Zarahemla today--550 pages long, 27 contributors, and it's gonna be AWESOME--but that's another post.

The post today is about our wonderful trip to Yellowstone from August 6-9. (Has it been THAT long since I've posted? Sheesh.) What I'll do is provide some photos and a little commentary. The photos speak for themselves pretty well.

Except I didn't take pictures on day one. Day one we drove to Jackson, through Lava Hot Springs. I hadn't been to Lava since I was a teenager--and even then I only remember it very vaguely--in fact, part of me wonders if I've even been there at all or just think I have because it seems like I should've. BUT, now I can say with confidence I've been to Lava, even if I don't have photographic evidence. Took the kids to the hot pools (too hot, left), then took them to the regular swimming pool (temperature just right, stayed) where they enjoyed the diving platforms and super fast water slides. We spent a few hours there and skipped town just as the storm clouds started rolling it. It was the story of our trip, in fact: constantly escaping the storm clouds.

We used Forrest's hotel points to stay at a Hilton Homewood Suites--an otherwise pricey place in a resort town like Jackson Hole. Luckily we didn't have to pay because it was kinda teensy. Like a hotel suite that had been put inside a shrinky-dink oven--everything was like 33% smaller than you'd expect. (Remember shrinky dinks?). Our bed was nice though. Comfy bed. And I'm all about the suites when traveling with kids. "Kids! Turn down Nickelodeon! We're going to bed!" [Close door, silence, mmmmm. . . .]

So, despite dire warnings of thunderstorms all weekend, we woke up Friday to lovely sunny skies in Jackson and took the kids first thing to the Alpine slide.


It took all my courage to take this picture because, what with my irrational fear of heights, I had to let go of the safety bar, unzip the camera case, take the picture, put the camera away and rezip camera case. I was very proud of myself. I was going to take a picture of Forrest and Wyatt behind me but I didn't dare: first because I'd have to twist around, second because I'd have to actually LOOK at Wyatt wiggling on that ski lift. Give me strength.

But we made it to the top without anyone flinging himself--accidentally on on purpose--off the lift, much to my relief. Everybody had a great time on the slide. Well, except Jonas. He was a little too light to make his slide go very fast and kind of put-putted down the hill, much to the consternation of the teenage girl who got stuck behind him. Sorry, teenage girl. Jonas did his best.
And this is a picture of Wyatt, just because he's cute and smiley and I like the sun in his hair.


Whilst in Jackson, we visited the Grand Tetons, taking a boat on Jenny Lake to a hiking trail and pretty waterfall in the mountains. Observe:

Forrest (stubble, cool dude sunglasses), lake, mountains, sky, fellow hat-wearing boat passengers.

All my favorite people, sitting on a rock, looking happy.

Kids. Posing.

Ethan and Jonas spent a fair amount of time scrambling up rocks--and I would have, too, had I not been a 37 year old woman who recently sprained her ankle stepping into a hole coming down the hill after watching a musical at Sundance. (See previous post.) The reason I would have is because the hiking path was SUPER crowded. One of the problems of having a boat deposit you at the foot of a hiking trail is that everybody on the boat heads out on the hike at the exact same time, so at times it felt more like we were in line for Big Thunder Mountain Railroad instead of meandering through God's country.

And the crowded trails also explains why Wyatt spent a lot of time in this position. Wyatt, he doesn't DO lines. Nope. He also has a bit of a patience problem. So he was either pushing between the legs of the hikers in front of us or trying to follow his brothers up the rocks or running down paths in that pell-mell way toddlers do, scaring me to death. Either way, it was the teensiest bit exasperating. So while Jenny Lake was beautiful, it was marred a bit by Wyatt and even more by ME being annoyed by Wyatt. Sorry, family. Glad some of you were able to escape me by climbing up a rocky mountainside.

Mom has to be grumpy at least once per vacation. It's a rule. I got over it. By the time my parents came to join us in Jackson I was full of good cheer, and we headed out for a chuckwagon dinner and show. Turned out that the company I chose after reading good reviews online--the Bar T5 Ranch--is run in part by some Wilkeys, which means they're almost family! Pretty cool! And put on a good show they did.

Grandma, Jonas, Ethan and Elise waiting for the action to begin. (Doesn't Grandma look cute in that picture?)

Mom & Kids, on the actual chuckwagon. Or is it just a wagon? Is the chuckwagon the one with the food on it? I don't know my cowboy terminology very well.

Grandma and Grandpa Sweat. ANOTHER good picture, this time of both of them. Don't they look great? And the pretty evening sunshine and beautiful hills behind them?



I had to include a shot of the "I See Wywatt!" face. This is what Wyatt would say every time I took a picture. He is obsessed with seeing himself on the camera screen. I've tried to tell him "You know, son, back in the day we had to wait for WEEKS to see our pictures. And half of them were terrible! You kids with your instant gratification . . ." but he wasn't interested in listening. I guess if I was as good lookin as Wyatt I'd want to see myself all the time too.

While on the wagon we were attacked by "Indians." The whole thing struck me as mildly racist (white kids in war paint screaming like maniacs pretending to kill us, etc. etc.) but I suppose we can put racism aside for a time in the name of authentic cowboy entertainment. Although if I was a Native American I might disagree. The kids sure liked seeing the horses racing by, though--but Wyatt was a little freaked out by one girl who was particularly committed to super-shrill screaming.

After a tasty meal, we had some real cowboy entertainment with a band that was surprisingly good. Forrest (of course) was called up on stage, because whenever adults are pulled out of audiences to do something mildly silly (like wear a teeny tiny cowboy hat and say "Hi, Babe!" and the appropriate time during a rendition of "She'll Be Coming Round the Mountain"), well, Forrest usually gets picked. Must be something about his aura.

They invited all the kids to come up and join, so Ethan, Elise and Jonas had a good time up there too.

The next morning, we left Jackson Hole behind and headed to Yellowstone itself. First stop? Lake Yellowstone:
It's a really big lake, and beautiful. Reminded me of Minnesota.

Mom & kids, accosted by vapors at a hot pot spot.

And lo and behold! Our first buffalo sighting! The funny thing about this particular sleeping buffalo is that traffic had came to a complete stop then inched along for over an hour just outside of Lake Yellowstone. What I couldn't figure out was why the traffic on our side had stopped, but the traffic on the other side was whizzing along just fine. Well, when we came to this particular fellow we understood the slow traffic: everybody was stopping and taking pictures. But why weren't the people coming from the north interested? Well, this is why:

Turns out the Hayden River Valley is LOUSY with buffalo. (Bison? I never know which to say. It's like "Latino" and "Hispanic." I know there must be a distinction and the fact that I'm not quite aware of it makes me nervous.) But we rounded the bend after getting so excited over our one sleepy buffalo and they were suddenly everywhere. No wonder the people coming from the north were whizzing by. They'd been there, seen that.
We let the kids get out, but they never got any closer than this to the buffalo. Was that negligent of us? I did some quick motherly calculations and I figured if the buffalo started charging they'd have just enough time to leap back into the Tahoe to safety. But none of the buffalo seemed at all interested in charging, as a matter of fact.



These ones actually mosey-ed out right in front of us and hung out in the middle of the road for a while. It was cool.

We also saw some cool scenery, including this waterfall. Unfortunately, the sleeping-buffalo traffic jam made it impossible to see as much of the Grand Canyon of Yellowstone as I would have liked---but we had to get to West Yellowstone by 5:00 for our horseback riding.

We also saw some elk, a cool eagle, and lots and lots of Lodgepole pine--and it was really neat to see the areas that had been burned twenty years ago and how they're coming back. The kids, though, weren't as interested in looking out the window as we were. Luckily they had books, DVDs, iPods and Warm Bebe to help them pass the time. (I think Jonas read pretty much constantly this trip. He even read when the buffalo was crossing the road in front of us. I suppose I should be glad he's reading??)

So! On to horseback riding! We arrived in West Yellowstone and checked into the Holiday Inn just in time (no suite this time--instead we were give a "honeymoon" type room with a gigantic two person tub in the middle of it, which the kids found hilarious). Grandpa and Grandma graciously agreed to stay with Wyatt while we took the big kids to a great ranch just outside of town. The clouds were dark and threatening, though, and I was a little afraid we were going to get rained on the whole time.

I love this picture.

Heading out on the trail.
We wound up through the mountains. And our horses were beautiful! Really well taken care of and well-behaved. (Except Ethan's was a little piggy. No matter how hard Ethan tried he wouldn't stop eating. That's probably what he was doing as I snapped this picture.)

Considering Jonas was just old enough to come on the trip, he did a great job handling his mighty steed. I also love how he has his hoodie on, THEN his cowboy hat. Suburban cowboy?




I love, love, love this picture. What a beautiful spot! And Elise looks so happy. If anybody loves to be riding a horse, it's her.

Miracle of miracles, we finished the ride without a drop of rain hitting us, even though the guide guaranteed us we'd get wet. Although it was a bit chilly, we couldn't have asked for a better ride. One of the highlights of the trip, for sure.

On our final day there we headed out to see Yellowstone's signature attraction, Old Faithful. Once again luck was on our side as we pulled up 15 minutes before she was scheduled to blow. (And isn't it amazing that Old Faithful IS that faithful? I had this vague feeling that, while the geyser had been spouting off for, I don't know, thousands of years, today would be the day that she finally went kaput. I mean, that's a lot of spouting.)

Grandma and Wyatt, patiently waiting.
Along with hundreds of other folks, also patiently waiting.

Soon, she started to hiss and spit, and then . . .
Kaboom! Right on time. Amazing.

So we saw a few more sights that day--burbly pots, sulphuric emissions, and all sorts of cool natural wonders--but eventually Wyatt had to hop on Dad's shoulders and head out of the park. (You can tell it's the last day of the trip by the seriousnes of Forrest's scruff. Look at all that gray in his beard! Since when am I married to an old dude!?!?! Good thing he's still so ruggedly handsome.)

We had a wonderful time, and I'm so glad my mom and dad got to come along too. I can hardly believe the summer's almost over! Elise and Jonas have already started up with school again and Ethan begins 8th grade in just a few days. Which reminds me: I have some catch-up posts to do. But at least the Yellowstone Trip is hereby memorialized. Thanks, Blogger, for helping me keep the memories fresh.

Fantastick!

Last night Grandpa Hiatt treated the whole fam-damily (well, the whole fam-damily over the age of eight) to a production of a show he once directed and loved: The Fantasticks. I knew a lot of the music since my mom and I used to sit at the piano and siiiiiiiiinnnnnng all those songs when I was a teenager: "Soon It's Gonna Rain," "They Were You," "Never Say No," "Try to Remember." Mmmmmm. Such good memories. I've never seen the show, though, so it was a lot of fun to put an actual story to all that music.

We took the big kids--and left Wyatt with Aunt Mindy and Uncle Pete (THANK YOU). And even though the show's not as kid oriented as Annie or The Lion King, the kids thoroughly enjoyed themselves. It was a gorgeous night, too. Nice crisp mountain air, the smell of summer grass, just all around heavenly.

So thank you, Grandpa Hiatt! What a great night.


We sat up on the grass under a big pine tree, which made the evening even more fun. Nothing like snuggling under a blanket, stars twinkling, watching a great show with your family.
Grandpa and Grandma Hiatt settled in to watch the show. Grandpa knew The Fantasticks was a great show and directed it years before it became "America's Longest Running Play." Grandpa's always had his finger on the pulse, you know? Which is why he blogs. :-)

Denny & Joe (both in red, smiling for the camera). Denny has been the pianist for two different productions of The Fantasticks (right Denny??). The score is famously difficult, and the whole show is done with only a piano and a harp. Denny is a piano genius.

My beautiful sister-in-law and her beautiful girls. Don't they look pretty on their blankets on the hill?
Grandma and Grandpa! They also look pretty on their blankets on the hill. Even Grandpa.

And us. Yes, it is physically impossible for Jonas to have a normal facial expression in a family photo, even under threats ranging from groundings to disownership. But we still love him.

Well, I take that back. I did get some cute pictures of Joe when we went to Wheeler Farm last week, but I was the one behind the camera, threatening him, so perhaps he took it more seriously? Since I'm showing off photos, here are some from our Wheeler Farm day trip:



Cute Lou. Peace.

Wyatt, looking sunkissed and adorable.

Jonas. Yes. Posing for the camera.

This one's just cute. And almost not silly.

But this one? Can I just say how much I love this picture? Yeah--those are MY kids. Who wouldn't love those kids? Unfortunately, we can't use it for our Christmas card because (as you may have noticed) somebody's missing. Yes, Ethan was at Scout camp--for a WHOLE WEEK. Left Monday morning at 6 a.m. and got home Saturday afternoon. And dang if I didn't miss that boy. That's a long time for an integral member of this family I'm a part of be gone, especially since cell phones were illegal so I couldn't even talk to him. No, "Hey, how are you doing?" [fine] or "Have you been brushing your teeth?" [no] or "Whatcha been up to for fun?" [Eating grasshoppers. Apparently this is a true story.]

I was so happy to see him home on Saturday and listen to all his great Scout camp stories, though. Happy enough that I forgave him more quickly than I otherwise would have when I found out he lost his Scout shirt AND his new pair of olive green cargo shorts I'd purchased, brand new, before he left. Ethan will have to update his blog and tell everybody all about Scout camp himself [hint, hint]. Maybe writing it down will jog his memory enough that it will suddenly dawn on him where he left his pants.

Catch Up Part 3: Neighborhood Yuba Trip

Okay. Whew. Final catch-up post.

We finally got the boat out for its inaugural 09 trip a couple weekends ago--in fact, we headed out on our 17th anniversary. Spent our anniversary in a tent with all the kids. Romance! :-)

I decided to man up and do the tent thing with Wyatt. I was a little nervous about it because I'm not the best tent sleeper, and roaming toddlers in a tent aren't always conducive to healthy slumber either, but it went pretty well. We spent all afternoon Thursday on the water and had a good time, then set up camp on the beach and roasted marshmallows and enjoyed some yummy s'mores. I love myself a good s'more, don't you? We tried putting Wyatt in the tent with the big kids to see if he'd settle down and go to sleep, but he thought it would be a lot more fun to stomp around and holler. (We kept hearing giggle giggle, stomp, stomp . . . "WYATT!!"). Finally I decided I'd try snuggling with him by the fire. By then it was about 11 p.m. and he was exhausted, so we snuggled up with his blue blanket and he fell asleep on my shoulder, which is a rarity anymore. It was quite lovely, actually: warm summer night, twinkly stars, snuggly toddler, tummy full of s'mores. Mmmmm.

The next day some more friends from the ward showed up and we had a great time on the boat. The big accomplishment of the day was Ethan getting up on the wakeboard for the first time. We've never bought a kid-size wakeboard, but we thought Ethan might be big enough to use the smallish adult wakeboard . . . and he got right up! Here's a snippet of his first ride:



Then I went to go take some video of Forrest ripping it UP on the wakeboard (jumping both wakes, looking super studly) and the camera died. The camera ALWAYS dies when I try to take pictures of Forrest on the wakeboard. Maybe he's developed some bad wakeboarding juju? But I did get a few other good lake-y time photos. Here are some:



All three kids up on skis. Sorry about the bad backlighting, Ethan.

The campsite! Ah, the beauty of Utah scrub. Yes, sometimes I really miss Minnesota. That building off in the distance is a very handy bathroom facility, which adds to the overall ambiance, no? But, once you take the decidedly non-picturesque surroundings out of the equation, I'm still a Yuba fan. Nice beaches (by Utah standards at least), soft sand, warm water.

A boy and his sippy cup, enjoying the ride.
Also a common sight at Yuba: cows. Hit the beach, check out the cows! That Mama cow was eyeing the kids pretty aggressively, seeing as how they were rising up out of the water and coming straight at her calf. A few seconds after I took this picture she snorted and both cows ran up into the grass.

The obligatory "Hey kids, you're in the boat! Now smile!" photo.

And I include this one because, while I never did manage to get a picture of Forrest on the wakeboard, I did get a picture of him doing what he does for hours and hours and hours whenever we go out on the boat: in the drivers' seat, neck cranked back, watching while he pulls somebody on skis or kneeboard or wakeboard or tube. Thanks, hon, for making it so fun for everybody when we go out on the boat! I'm such a boat-driving wimp. (I HATE driving the boat. Okay, don't HATE it. But I really don't like it. Makes me nervous. Always afraid another boater is going to crash into me, or vice versa, or that I'll accidentally run over some skier, or at the very least that I'll drive so nervously that I'll jerk the poor wakeboarder behind me around so much they fall over. We all have our strengths, right? Boat driving isn't one of mine.)

So it was a good time. Enjoyed spending time with our friends and neighbors, nobody got too terribly sunburned, and I had a good time camping in a tent! Success!

Catch Up Part 2: The Segullah Retreat. Oh, and I'm in a Bad Mood Because I'm on Weight Watchers

Okay, before I vent about my weight-loss related irritability, let's talk about something fun.

SEGULLAH!



(And for those of you who are afraid to speak about Segullah to anyone in person because you can't pronounce it, first, know that you are not alone. Second, think "ooh, la la"--that's how you say it. You know, "Say-gooh-lah." Although I usually end up saying "luh" instead of "lah" at the end because saying "lah" at the end is so much dang work. Third, one of the great brainstorms to come out of our recent retreat is the idea to sell t-shirts that say: "Segullah. We can't pronounce it either.")

So, the weekend before last I loaded up the Mazda5 for its inaugural trip, up Provo canyon to Darlene's in-laws cabin for some sisterhood and cake. A random assortment of highlights:

-The temple. I met some of my Segullah friends for the first time, in person, in the celestial room. What a place to make a first impression.

-The drive. Yes, fun to drive the new car--and the little whatever-cylinder engine (4 cylinder I think? I told you last post I have absolutely no interest in such things) did a great job huffing up the mountain. But mostly I love driving with friends. Captive audiences, etc. Some of the best conversations happen in the car, imo. Darlene, Cheri, Brittney--who could ask for better ride-mates?

-The cabin itself. Nature. Animals. Saw a bunch of deer. I went out on the deck and looked into the eyes of a doe who just stood there, looking back, for a full two minutes. I think she was trying to tell me something.

-The beautiful women I'm lucky enough to call friends. And I mean it when I say beautiful. Some of these chickies border on supermodel quality, I'm not kidding. And they run marathons in just over three hours and bake delicious gourmet cakes and have New York based literary agents and win prestigious poetry awards and secure government grants to write South American mission memoirs and get accepted to European graduate schools and picnic with Barack and Michelle Obama (seriously!!) and sing like angels and paint masterpieces and write computer programs and own photography studios and teach college level chemistry courses. Among other things. Like being rock star mothers and wives. And pillars of spirituality. It's enough to make a girl a little insecure, which I might have been weren't every last one of them as kind and loving as you'd ever have the right to expect.

Yes, I'm being gushy. But seriously, these women? How I ever got the chance to be a part of such a group of women is one of the great blessings of my life.

-The conversations. Like last year, I stayed up until 4 am. And I'm not even going to apologize for it. WORTH IT. We laughed (my friend Jennie's story about her mother asking her to wrap her in plaster in order to make a life-sized cast she could sleep in for a year to cure her back problems had me laughing harder than I've laughed in, oh, years); we cried (of course we cried. Segullah women love crying). We solved the problems of the universe. Seriously. President Obama should give us a call. I'll give him our advice for free since he helped me out with the whole car purchase thing.

-The food. As I mentioned, Segullah women are incredibly talented, and the culinary arts are well represented. We had a greek lunch that was to die for, and did I mention the cakes? Oh, the cakes. Here's a picture I'm including even though I look slightly worse-for-wear. This was the morning AFTER staying up till 4 a.m., so I'm not necessarily daisy fresh. Anyway, it's not the people in the picture, but the cakes that I want you to notice:



Yes, that's THREE homemade specialty cakes, an assortment of gourmet cupcakes, and a plate of sugar cookies, for good measure.

Needless to say, it was a great, GREAT weekend. And I wasn't really counting my Weight Watchers points.

Which brings me to . . . yeah, I'm doing Weight Watchers (she says mopily). Not the full blown version with the meetings and everything--the idea of public weighing kind of weirds me out, no offense--but I'm doing it online.

We all know the saga of the metabolic testing, we all know my stories of "exercise to no weight loss avail," and we're all tired of it, I realize. But I haven't really buckled down and done a serious diet since Wyatt was born. Part of the reason is I'm suspicious of diets in general. I've done them in the past, suffered and groaned for a couple of months and lost (usually) three or four pounds, then bounced right back up to my set point about a week after I stop consciously dieting.

But last month I noticed that, whoopsie, I'd crept up by three pounds. Three pounds isn't a lot, but it was three pounds more than my set point and it wasn't just an anomaly. So I figured it was time to buckle down.

So I'm buckling.

The good news is that those three pounds came off the very first week I was on Weight Watchers. And this was even the week that included the Segullah retreat and the aforementioned cake. But since then? Since then I've been diligently recording my points, eating my salads and frozen Smart Ones! lunches, eschewing breads and candies (mostly), going to bed with a grumbly tummy. And keeping up with the exercise like usual. So today I got on the scale for my scheduled Tuesday weigh-in and WEIGHED EXACTLY THE SAME AS THE WEEK BEFORE.

#(@)@*#$*@)!&#

I have to have faith that if I stick with it I'll be able to make some more progress, and I am sticking with it. I committed to it and I'm not wimping out (which is part of the reason I'm putting it on my blog. Accountability and all that.) But I wish it wasn't so *#(@ hard for me to see progress. Even just one pound would have made me happy. Two pounds would have THRILLED me. Sticking with the diet itself isn't really all that hard, to be honest. I'm not eating that much differently that I usually do. It's the thinking about it all the time--counting, worrying, choosing--and the inability to, say, have a bunch of really good bread at dinner without feeling guilty that annoys me. But I could handle those small annoyances just fine if only I saw some progress.

Sigh.

It's only been a few weeks, I realize. Maybe my body's just saving up and next week I'll lose like five pounds or something.

But I doubt it.

And now I'm done complaining. And coming up next? Catch Up Part 3: Neighborhood Trip to Yuba. And I promise I won't whine about my diet one little bit next time, or talk about money, or mention politics. Just me, my kids, my hubby, a good night's sleep in tent (!) and the bright blue water. Safe for everybody, right?

Catching Up Part 1: My Birthday Present from Barack Obama

Has it really been two weeks since I posted last? Egads. Part of the reason I like to keep myself on a once a week schedule is it keeps all the bloggy news from piling up and overwhelming me . . . and you, my loyal six readers. So I'm going to break up the goings on of the last couple of weeks in a few separate posts. Hopefully I can keep them as concise as possible.

But you know me. I probably won't.

So, let's go chronologically and begin with event number one:

My birthday! Turned 37. Forrest presented me with some nice smelly lotions to commemorate the day. Oh, and Barack Obama helped buy me a new car.



Okay, well, the car wasn't really a birthday present. We just happened to buy it ON my birthday, with a little help from Mr. President.

And how did Barack Obama help you buy a car, you ask? Let me 'splain. First off, about a month ago we refinanced our house with the help of the HARP program ("Home Affordable Refinance Program"--gotta love those government acronyms). We hadn't been able to refinance earlier in the year when we wanted to because, although we have really good credit (is it uncouth to say we have really good credit? ah well), our home has lost over $100,000 in value over the last 18 months. Yeah, I know. I don't want to think about that either. Anyhoo, the value loss and tighter lending rules meant that we didn't have enough equity to qualify. Major bummer, since rates were quite a bit lower than they were when we bought this house. But a few months ago the administration passed the HARP program for people just like us and, being the good little Hallstrom Family Mortgage Specialist that I am--seriously, sometimes I think I could be a mortgage broker or something, if I had even one iota if interest in professional mortgage brokering, that is--I jumped on it, and we snagged a sweet 4.75% interest rate, which brought our monthly bill down by a little over $300.

(And what does this have to do with your birthday, you wonder? And didn't you say you would try to be succinct, you ask? And didn't I tell you I wouldn't be, I reply?)

Sooooo . . . then, the Jeep Cherokee Forrest's parents have been driving broke down for the, oh, nineteenth time in the last three months. Okay, exaggerating a bit, but it was really on its last legs. (Bad metaphor. Moving on.) Forrest is the go-to guy when the Jeep breaks and also the go-to guy to help out when his parents need a car and it was pretty apparent to everybody that his poor 68 year old mom couldn't keep driving a vehicle to work every day that randomly stalled at red lights. So we decided it would be best for everybody to give them our van and get something newer for ourselves. I would have been happy driving the denty and smelly but paid-for van for a few more years, but the proverbial ox was in the mire.

As luck (or providence, depending on how you look at things) would have it, we'd recently come in to an extra 300 a month. Yes, an extra 300 a month we were planning to put toward other debt, but still, it was handy given the circumstances. And then ANOTHER government stimulus program was passed, this one with the snappy acronym CARS . (Car Allowance Rebate System).

Basically this program made it possible for us to trade in the Cherokee and get a $4,500 rebate on a new car, just as long as the new car got 5 mpg better gas mileage than the clunker. (It's actually a pretty smart use of stimulus money, imo--it moves new cars and simultaneously reduces emissions and fuel consumption. But then again I'm prejudiced because I got a new car.) We probably would have bought a used car for me, but once we took into account the rebate it made more sense to go new. Luckily the Cherokee has been registered to and insured by us this whole time (it was originally our car) so we could qualify.

So I researched and researched and finally found the car I wanted: the Mazda 5. We have the Tahoe for entire-family-traveling, but I don't like driving the Tahoe. Too boatlike and unwieldy; kids always winging the doors into other people's littler, more unassuming vehicles; nowhere to put the groceries; bad gas mileage. Don't get me wrong--I love being a passenger in the Tahoe. But driving it? Not so much. And I do love my van, as dorky as it is to love a van. Love the sliding doors, love the seating arrangement for the kids, love the room. But we didn't really need to buy another 7 passenger vehicle, and getting a NEW van was more expensive than we would have liked. Then I found the Mazda 5. A mini minivan! Great gas mileage, relatively inexpensive, sporty. Seriously, it's really fun to drive. And we did splurge a tiny bit and get the nice package w/ the leather and seat warmers and moon roof (I'm a sucker for a moon roof on a nice summer night). It even has a jack for my iPod so I can listen to This American Life podcasts and NEVER HAVE TO BURN ANOTHER CD AGAIN. Yippee! (I couldn't care less about engine size--just give me an iPod jack and I'm thrilled.)

So . . . we bought a car! And yes, we're not really putting a dent in the whole debt thing in the way we'd hoped just a month ago, but sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do. And getting a sporty new car with a moon roof and an iPod jack does take the edge off.

So thank you, Mr. Obama and the American Taxpayer, for HARP and CARS and my new Mazda 5.

Catching Up Part Two: The Segullah Retreat coming soooon.

(And p.s.--Are you watching Big Bang Theory? And are you watching Better Off Ted? No? Then start! Best new comedies since Thirty Rock. And I don't say this lightly.)

Independence! (And Yes, I Realize I Used an Exclamation Point in My Last Title Too!)

Example of Independence #1:

Elise portrayed "The Son of Liberty" in the 5th Grade Play. And yes, many girls played boys--we're depicting early American history after all, and our recollection of notable women is in short supply. Although--aside--I just finished reading Sarah Vowell's The Wordy Shipmates AND Forrest and I have been watching the John Adams miniseries and I think both Ann Hutchinson and Abigail Adams are pretty fascinating members of the fairer sex, and neither of them made an appearance in Monte Vista Elementary's production of The American Dream. Sojourner Truth did, though. Love that "Aint I a Woman?" speech.

Here's Elise in all her Pilgrimy glory:

(We decided that even though her shoes from Justice had sparkles on the toes, most audience members wouldn't notice. The buckles seemed kinda pilgrimy to me--pilgrimy with pizzaz!)

And here she is singing away. And being tall.



After the 5th grade play and a hot hot HOT field day (where photos were not taken because I was too covered in Otter Pop juice and focused on wrangling 10 rotations of 25 6 to 8 year olds into even groups on either side of the tug of war rope to take pictures) . . . school ended!

So Example of Independence #2? No more classrooms, no more books, no more teacher's dirty looks! (Such a mean rhyme.)

Jonas holding his excellent report card aloft. I also took a picture of Elise with her report card . . . but her friend Hailey signed Elise's FOREHEAD as a passionate gesture of goodbye and it just looks too silly to post on the internet. Sorry. I'm controlling that way. Needless to say, Elise had a great report card too. Onward and upward to 3rd and 6th grades!

And now the obvious example of Independence, July 4th:

Andrew and Andrea and their family arrived from North Carolina just in time to join in the festivities. Okay, quick rewind: They got here on July 3rd and we went to the temple open house and Boondocks to celebrate Brandon's 8th birthday. Forrest couldn't come to the temple open house because he was helping a family in the ward move (and lest you think he's too noble, he also golfed in the morning, so half the time he was golfing, half moving--so the noblesse evens out). Wyatt was in even rarer form than the first time we went to the open house. The major differences this time was the absence of dad and the vast throngs of people who had the day off on Friday the 3rd and decided to visit the open house just like we did and stand packed together on the stairs in a manner which the Fire Marshall would most certainly disapprove. Wyatt was--shall we say--feeling a little "hemmed in"? He desperately wanted to get in the baptismal font, yelling "I go swimming!" at the top of his lungs. But my favorite stunt was when he wiggled out of my arms and darted underneath the velvet rope in the celestial room and went and sat in one of the chairs. Ahhh, parenting toddlers. Especially parenting toddlers while hundreds of people look on. Keeps a girl humble.

And Boondocks was really fun. Go carts, video games, all that good stuff. But I didn't bring the camera to either. You'll have to check out Andi's blog for that!

So. Anyway. The 4th of July.

Brandon's baptism was a great way to start the morning. So nice of his parents to travel thousands of miles so we could all be a part of it! Then afterward we descended on Grandma and Grandpa's house, had some good food, then turned the kids loose in the backyard. Just because they're cute, here's a picture of each of the cousins enjoying the slip n slide:

Eli making a run for it

Wyatt, who had a hard time understanding he was supposed to wait in line--but the kids were patient with him. That's the advantage of being one of the younger cousins.

Elise, rock star slip n slider with dangly silver earrings, purple cast, and wind machine hair.

How cute is this picture of Whitney?

Ethan: Attacking the slide.

Brandon, master of Slip n Slide form.

Jane, with a classic Slip n Slide expression.

Cute Lauren.

Jonas, riding the slide to the very end.

Reagan, expert knee slider!

And darling Emma, who chose to abstain from slip and sliding (at least while I was outside with the camera!).

This picture is just pure cute. Almost makes up for the temple open house(s).

Mmmm . . . ice cream and a porch swing

More cute ice cream pictures

And a gaggle of gangly cousins.

That night everybody came over to our place and we did fireworks. Some cool pics:
Cool nighttime setting on the camera, isn't it?

You can see the taillights of a car passing by. Sorry, traffic!

The ghost of Forrest, fireworks-lighter-extraordinaire

Vivi and Caroline, enjoying the action from their box seat.

And Wyatt with Grandpa. NOT too happy about the explosions, the loud noises, the "fire." ("I no like that fire Mom!" he kept telling me. It's got to be so confusing to be two, wondering why in the world we've all decided to congregate on the front lawn after his bed time and watch things explode.)

It was a great night, no Follow My Leader style accidents (did anybody else read that book in elementary school?) and so fun to have family in town. And now it's hot, hot, hot, and summer is officially here: otter pops, swimming suits left (wet) on the floor, sleeping in, boat trips. Looking forward to it.