summer gives to charity

The infant phenomenon had so much fun the last time she went to the zoo that we decided to repeat the experience at Salt Lake City's Hogle Zoo. This go around, we teamed up with Cuong (a former missionary companion of mine) and family to enhance our experience with local expertise.

Their companionship proved to be invaluable. The zoo was good but the bird show was fantastic. Summer was so impressed that she donated a dollar to one of the performers. The cheeky cockatoo snatched the bill and inserted it into the box for her.

croquet anyone?

meet the players:

anna. the contender.

bryan. the first eliminated.

cal. the merciful.

owen. the merciless.

emily. the champion.

kenny. the vanquished.

'twas a lovely late afternoon frolic in the backyard.
we recommend croquet to all who have yet to enjoy this forgotten pasttime.

you put the lime in the coconut

summer gets sick

well, we held out as long as we could, but the evil rhinovirus (aka, the common cold) finally got to baby summer. now, i don't know who invented sick babies, but i wholly disagree with the concept. fever. aching. coughing. runny nose. not to mention crying-induced vomitting. and here's the clincher: nothing can be done. sure, a few drops of baby tylenol will take some of the edge off, but overall, we've just got to wait it out (thank goodness for satellite tv).

what's especially disheartening about an ill child is that none of the usual tricks will work. even my secret weapon (mommary glands) has proven less effective in calming summer. instead, i have spent most of the morning in and out of the shower -- the running water appears to lull summer to sleep and also relieve some of her congestion (and as an added bonus, it's been a good way to wash up after the vomitting).

my poor baby girl; she's really been handling her first illness like a champ.

and on the upside, one rhinovirus down--only 99 more to go!!

hey, good lookin'

we knew this day would come eventually, we were just a bit unprepared for how soon. after only seven months on earth, summer has discovered its most dangerous inhabitants: boys (eek!).

it was a rather uneventful afternoon in sunday school. summer was sitting on the floor in front of me, happily playing with a few of her favorite toys, when he came by. with his swaggering crawl and sleek, sexy drool, how was a girl to resist?

immediately, summer dropped what she was doing, her breaths came quicker, her pulse increased and she SQUEALED with delight! seriously, i had never before seen my baby doll behave in such a way. yes, folks, summer is a shameless flirt.

her arms swung out and toddled giddily at her sides as she squealed and giggled, squealed and giggled in attempts to gain his attention. the young boy, five months summer’s senior, acted coy at first, checking out her goods (er, toys), and making off with a few before returning to examine her further. then finally, he crawled closer, he reached out to her and she to him and in true baby fashion, they gouged each other’s eyes.

so much for love at first, uh, sight.

summer goes to the zoo

into the woods

for memorial day, bryan and i took summer on another expedition, this time to wallace falls. ever the predictable baby, here is summer's basic itinerary for hiking:

-- put summer into hiking backpack

-- summer is very happy and content riding along

-- summer takes a nap

-- summer wakes up screaming like a banshee

-- summer is fed

-- attempts are made to put summer back into the hiking backpack

-- attempts fail as screaming baby frightens other hikers and disturbs wildlife

-- mom carries summer in her arms

-- mom tires of carrying summer and forces her into the backpack

-- summer screams like a banshee

-- summer takes a nap

-- summer wakes up and is very happy and content riding along

ah, the great outdoors.

How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Oil

Senate Democrats hauled top oil execs into a hearing last week | link. The topic of conversation: huge profits.

Don't get me wrong, I don't rejoice paying $4 a gallon for gas. Nevertheless, blaming oil execs isn't exactly a fruitful endeavor.

First off, this is America. When we read about people earning $12 million a year, we don't resent them. We want to be them.

More importantly, though, the analysis on the issue is a little bit shallow. Yes, the profits are huge. But that's akin to saying a hummingbird doesn't eat a lot of food (it eats 3x its weight a day). Look at the numbers. I can't claim to be original here, but since I can't find the link to the original content, I'll do the exercise myself.

 

Open the Global 2000 and filter out non-US companies. Exxon Mobile is at the top of the list with over $40 billion dollars. OK, maybe I'm upset now.

 

However, if you sort the list by profit margin, a different picture emerges. Exxon drops to #14 with a profit margin of 11.3%. Who is #1 you ask? Microsoft... at 29.3%. Bill Gates may not be sexy, Mr. Jobs, but the man sure knows how to make money.

summer parole

The infant phenomenon uttered her first word today. Unfortunately, we can't get her to repeat it. We were walking along the shores of Rattlesnake Lake. As we approached the lake side, Summer awoke from her motion induced nap and became very chatty. After I made an unremarkable comment about the mud surrounding the lake, it happened:  Summer said "mud."

 

Emily and I looked at each other with fear and amazement and immediately focused our intention on the babe. Regrettably, she has not spoken another word since. Because I fancy myself to be a scientist of sorts, I'm going to have to categorize this as a spurious result.

 

Fortunately, Summer's other feats of the day were well recorded. Behold her first hike and her first encounter with grass.

awake to silent joy

Ode, Composed on a May Morning by William Wordsworth (excerpt)

While from the purpling east departs

The star that led the dawn,

Blithe Flora from her couch upstarts,

For May is on the lawn.

A quickening hope, a freshening glee,

Foreran the expected Power,

Whose first-drawn breath, from bush and tree,

Shakes off that pearly shower.

All Nature welcomes Her whose sway

Tempers the year's extremes;

Who scattereth lustres o'er noon-day,

Like morning's dewy gleams;

While mellow warble, sprightly trill,

The tremulous heart excite;

And hums the balmy air to still

The balance of delight.

un cadeau, pour moi?

If there's any list you should try to get on, it's the group of people Emily gives gifts to. I have the good fortune of being near the top (I was recently demoted due to Summer's meteoric rise to the number one slot). Case in point: Birthday 08.

You may recall the festivities perpetuated by Emily on the day itself. The fun did not stop there:

This year, Emily's gift to me was a *very* nice camera. Technically, she didn't give me the camera itself but a large sum of money earmarked for the camera. This is because even though I have wanted a DSLR for years, I'm cheap, and generally speaking, don't like to spend money on anything.

So after an additional month of dithering, I finally took the plunge. The gift is already starting to pay dividends. As expected, Emily and Summer will be my most frequent subjects.

summer goes to the park

splish splash

meet tubba sums. this picture was taken at her last known sighting: a mere four days ago before her unexplained and irrational fear of water began.

now it's i do the dishes, she screams. i wash my hands, she screams. we run the tub, no surprises here, she screams.

and supposing we have the audacity to actually put her into the tub, party's over, she's gone berzerk.

ah, the fleeting fancies of six month olds. tubba sums, where did you go? please come back; we miss you so!

oh happy day

(summer love and i)

Making the decision to have a child-it's momentous.
It is to decide forever to have your heart go
walking around outside your body. --Elizabeth Stone

(flowers from my mom & dad)

We never know the love of our parents for us till we
have become parents ourselves. --Henry Ward Beecher

(wicked chef's knife from bryan)

A mother is a person who seeing there are only four pieces
of pie for five people, promptly announces she never
did care for pie. --Tenneva Jordan

...mmm...pie....

sweet summer girl

bryan and i gave summer a mid-year performance review today and decided to renew our six month contract with her, so she should be gracing the pages of our blog for at least that much longer. here are some photos of our small celebration:

summer helping me bake the cupcakes.
her contribution was essential.

half-pink cupcakes (on the inside, too!)

yum!
(shortly after this picture was taken, summer
*accidentally* got her first taste of icing. oddly enough,
she enjoyed it just about as much as the squash)

it's my party, and i'll cry if i want to.
(for those with superhuman eyesight, check out her two bottom teeth)

ahoy, matey!

to sleep, perchance to dream

summer has recently replaced the whoozit as the love of her little baby life.

but i'm not so sure this new relationship is any healthier. while the crux of the problem with the whoozit was his lack of attention, her lovey has gone to the reverse extreme and appears to be smothering her.

skagit county tulip festival

the sun has returned to the pacific northwest, so we decided to take mike and janna (and summer, of course) and venture out to receive our yearly quota of vitamin d:

 

 

strawberry fields forever.

poppies. poppies will make you sleepy.

 

Bumbo baby

In general, Emily must wield all her persuasive powers for me to approve a purchase of baby gear. I do not possess the gift of fine discernment that distinguishes the value of the bouncy seat from the papasan swing from the rainforest jumperoo from the tinylove playmat. Nor do I see why it is necessary to own five different baby carriers--though she assures me each one has a separate and distinct purpose (reminiscent of her excuses for having so many pairs of shoes).

Last weekend, we happed upon a rare moment wherein it was I persuading Emily to make an aquisition: the Bumbo chair. As some of you may be aware, I was a bit of a late bloomer as an infant. Though I caught up with my peers by the time I took my first math test, I was quite content not holding up my head until 9 months or walking until 18 (months, that is).

I feel that my life has been rather grand, but as a parent, you always want your children to achieve greater heights. So I have enlisted the help of the Bumbo in ensuring that Summer's sitting abilities far surpass my own.

buttermilk blog

so i went to the grocery store on saturday night. and for anyone who might not be familiar with the last minute weekend scramble to the market, there are some very interesting characters who roam the aisles after 9pm.

i met one such man on this week’s trip. i was minding my own business in the baking aisle, looking for some ice cube trays, when he approached: “ i hate all these *beep* health freaks messing with the *beep* grocery store, so i can’t find the *beep* i need.”

uh, i’m sorry, sir, what are you looking for?

“buttermilk. all they have is *beep* reduced-fat buttermilk. how am i supposed to make buttermilk biscuits with this *beep*? if people only knew what they were eating…i ought to buy my own *beep* cow and keep all the *beep* fat in the milk that i want.”

right you are, sir, communists in the grocery store, reducing all the fat, tragedy, yadda yadda (and then i narrowly escaped).

now, there are a couple of points of concern pertaining to this brief interlude that i would like to share with the masses:

1) the language. do people actually swear that much in conversations with complete strangers? in the grocery store? i mean, obviously, at a metallica concert. but really—in the baking aisle? about buttermilk?

2) the fundamental misunderstanding of buttermilk. buttermilk, a misnomer, does not have butter in it, nor is it even the dairy product close to having the highest percentage of butterfat. its “richness” is not why it goes in biscuits and pancakes (else we would all be having buttermilk ice cream), but rather its acidic properties and sour taste. in fact, most buttermilk nowadays is made conventionally by simply adding acid to regular milk.

so, sir, you are welcome to buy some whole milk and add a bit of lemon juice or cream of tartar and make your own buttermilk that the health food fascists can’t touch (‘twould be easier than purchasing the cow).

but as for me and my house, we take it as it comes.

summer squash

this week, summer was ready to eat more than just rice cereal. unfortunately, our food processor had not yet arrived from amazon, so options were limited, and the only thing i had in my pantry to satiate her growing appetite was squash.

apparently, summer likes squash just about as much as the rest of us do.

 

 

5 days later

As it turns out, I'm married to a master of surprises. Latest case in point? Operation Birthday: 2008.

On Monday night, Emily left me to tend Summer while she went to a visiting teaching appointment. In reality, she stole my badge and infiltrated Microsoft's building 25 with balloons and cake in tow. After winning over the hearts and minds of some of the locals, she placed the ginormous balloon bouquet in my office and hid a birthday cake in the fridge.

The festitivites did not end there, however. Operation Birthday also coincided with an MSNBC SiteDev morale event. Activity of choice? Mariners ball game. Under normal circumstances, a Mariners game in mid-April is a fantastic idea. Unfortunately, 40 degree weather combined with large quantities of rain dampened some of our enthusiasm.

After the game, Summer attended her first birthday party. Apart from the 5 seconds posing for the photo, she spent the time captivated by her latest discovery: fire.

burns brighter

four years ago, on april 10, 2004, bryan and i were married in the salt lake city temple--despite that on the way to the ceremony, my brother assured me that it still wasn't too late to back out.

to commemorate our union, i would like to illustrate, in four carefully chosen scenarios, why i stand by the decision i made that fateful morning more than 35,000 hours ago. in no particular order:

1 - when i was pregnant with summer, i was mad sick for 7 1/2 weeks. during this time, bryan got up every morning at 4:45am and made me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and brought me a box of apple juice. while the pbj didn't necessarily help quell the sickness, bryan faithfully rose from bed each dawn to make me a dish he knew i would just...uh...toss...

2 - bryan has an alter ego known only as "the asleep huss." i often hold in depth conversations with him only to discover the next morning that bryan remembers none of it. but luckily, the asleep huss is also very romantic: he is always telling me how much he loves me and how beautiful i am. he frequently asks me what he can do for me and approves fantasy purchases. so even if "the awake huss" and i aren't getting along, i can always count on his sleeping self to be quite adoring.

3 - one day i came home and decided to sell all of our furniture. i spent the morning figuring out how much we had paid for each piece, calculating depreciation over the previous 1-3 years, taking pictures and preparing to post on craigslist. when i told bryan, he calmly allowed me to go about my business knowing that by nightfall, the storm would have passed. and it did; it always does.

4 - after an ill-fated atv trip two years ago, i went through a phase (which i am just beginning to emerge from) where i was deathly afraid to drive on the freeway. unfortunately, at the time, i was taking graduate classes in dc and living in baltimore--which is quite a drive almost entirely on high-speed roads. so bryan leaves his own graduate studies twice a week to drive me an hour to dc, sit for two and a half hours during my class, and then drives me an hour home. who does that?

i realize that by telling these stories, i am making myself look like *somewhat* of a spazz. but that's why bryan is the yin to my yang, the macaroni to my cheese. i haven't quite figured out what he's getting from the relationship...but let's hope whatever it is lasts at least another four years.

first bite

summer has shown so much interest in our eating habits as of late--mimicking chewing, demanding to sit at the table during dinner, and loving to play with empty food containers--that we decided to give her a go at it.

like a fish to water. as anyone can tell just by looking at those cheeks, summer is a born eater.


please note: this photo was carefully posed. we do not actually let summer feed herself or hold long, thin objects perfect for thrusting to the back of her throat. and for that matter, bryan's use of silverware is also very closely monitored.

Sedia gestatoria

Every parent has aspirations that greatly exceed their child's abilities. Due to Summer's superhuman powers, I thought I would be immune to such follies. Alas, I am not.

Summer's growth rate of late has been quite exceptional. According to published infant growth charts, however, she's actually quite normal. The accompanying photo of Summer's new sedan chair (aka "the hiking throne") shows the disconnect between my expectations and reality. Apparently, her chin is supposed to be resting above the chin rest rather than behind it. Looks like forced family fun in the woods is at least a month off.