Prank Wars

I was going to write all about my practical joke war with my friend Kristy, but she beat me to it. So here's an excerpt of her entry:

But I have to say, my crowning accomplishment came when I submitted an outdated picture along with a cheesy update to her college alumni magazine without her knowledge, AND THEY PUBLISHED IT!! We’re still not sure how many ex-boyfriends witnessed this section in the magazine, but I’m confident it’s enough to satiate me my entire life. To retaliate, she secretly made a copy of my house key, then used it when we were on vacation to change our answering machine message, replace every photo in my home with her picture (as well as hiding a total of 140 copies throughout the house), and put our home up for sale. She got two phone calls from interested buyers. Not bad.

I was finding photos of her for months. A year afterward I got out our Pack ‘N Play for a friend who was visiting with her baby and found another copy, and I was pretty sure that was the last one. Until today. I was cleaning out my crawl space when I found what has to be the final picture, discovered inside a box that held a Christmas Tree Stand that we no longer use.

It’s been FOUR YEARS. I cannot believe she braved the dark and creepy crawl space! Then again, we’ve never been much for understanding boundaries. Perhaps that’s another reason we get along so well.

Not bad, if I say so myself!!!

If you'd like to read about more of our jokes, or see the picture Kristy found, click here,

Class of '88 Rulz!

*Thanks to Garity, I have reloaded the pictures, so that you can click on them and get a closer look. Really, how else will you be able to make fun of Diamond?*

Flying two people to Seattle: $600
Two nights hotel: $150
Eating out for three days: $150
Tickets to the IHS Class of '88 Reunion: $150

Going to your twentieth high school reunion: Not Worth It.

Diamond's 20th reunion was this past weekend. We added up the numbers and decided not to go. I figured if we were going to be spending over $1,000 on a trip, it would have to include a warm beach. Diamond went back and forth, but decided that if he hadn't bothered kept track of those people for twenty-ish years, it couldn't be all that important.

However, in honor of the Interlake Saints, I thought I would hold a mini-reunion right here. So, some excerpts from Diamond's yearbook:

"Well Skywalker here it is! (Yeah, his nickname in high school was Skywalker. Think more basketball, and less Star Wars.) The END OF THE YEAR! Well man it's off to BYU now!" -Greg
*
"Sky, You are one crazy guy.
You made it through,
and now your gonna become a full time Morm
at BYWho." - Lowell
*
"You're a super special person, even though you are a Morm. Thank you so much for prom!" -Nicole
*
"Sharing a locker with you and Miller was fun." -Scott

I couldn't really finish this blog without at least some pictures of Diamond's senior year!

Diamond is on the bottom, far right

Diamond is second from the left

So, here's to you, Class of 1988! Now, I'm going to take that $1,000+ and plan a trip to the beach...

If All Your Friends Jumped Off a Bridge...

As I mentioned in my last post, we were able to go canoeing while in Utah. Uncle Craig and I took out Big Boy #1 and his cousin Jake - who is just a couple years older. While we were out, the boys noticed a group of teenage boys jumping from this bridge.

I asked "Wanna do it?"
They both were totally on board with the idea - until they were actually standing on the bridge.

At that point Uncle Tyler joined the boys on the bridge and jumped. That seemed enough to convince Jake. And once Jake did it, of course BB1 had to follow suit. (OK, this is were I have to insert that they were wearing life-jackets. And Uncle Tyler was treading water close by. And, well, those teenagers seemed to be fine.)

Then Big Boy #2 came over. He's barely seven years old and was too little to even scramble up to the jumping off spot. However, those afore mentioned teenage boys were more than willing to lift him up to the top of the bridge. (Who says teenage boys aren't helpful?) Without a moments hesitation, BB#2 was jumping off the bridge. He belly-flopped and came up screaming.

That's when the police drove up.

Apparently there is a $100 fine for bridge jumping in Utah.

Luckily, the cop let us off with a warning. I'm just glad he didn't haul BB2 off into Children's Protective Services. I mean really, what kind of mother lets her seven year old boy jump of a bridge?!?

Would this help to explain things?

Me bungee-jumping (age 19)Diamond cliff-jumping (age 19)

We just thought we had another 10-12 years for that gene to kick in!

This is NOT a good sign for the future...

Utah, We Love Thee?

We made our annual migration to Utah this past week.

The Smith clan at the park

The boys kept busy by playing with water at the Children's Musuem...

touring the sites of Salt Lake...

launching rockets with an air compressor at Ganelle's aunt's house...

playing ball with cousins...

They even went canoeing...

It was a fun, active, busy five days.
Go figure that every time we got in the car to go from one place to the next...

More Pictures of Our Trip

Everyone's a Critic

I have never been much of a singer. In sixth grade the school's choir director concluded that I was an alto and made me sit by the boys. Yuck! It wasn't that I minded being near the boys, I just took it as a personal affront to my budding femininity. I finished out the season and have refused to be part of any choir since.

The humiliation didn't stop there. I never really got the hang of singing alto, so at church I would sing the soprano line of the hymns an octave lower. Go figure my sister would reprimand me by saying "You're throwing me off!" I'm sure she was right.

By the time I was in high school, I just mouthed the words.

But then I had children. They were lovely. They were little. They were tone-deaf. My desire to be a good mom was stronger than years of programmed embarrassment. So I sang my children lullabies. They never criticized my singing.

Until last night.

We are on day three of our summer vacation and the Caboose has been having a hard time falling asleep each night. So last night, at 10:30 I was trying to lull him to sleep. I was singing. He was crying. I didn't take it personally until...

"No! No sing!"
"You want me to stop singing?"
"Yes!"
"OK..."

Two minutes later he was asleep.

When, exactly, did my two year old turn into Simon Cowell?

Blankie

The Caboose LOVES his blankie. It's got yummy, thick, fleece on one side and silk on the other. We always know when he's getting tired because he will ask for his blankie and start sucking his thumb.

Recognizing this, Santa wisely brought a back-up blanket. However, sometime between Christmas and the 4th of July, the original blankie was lost. No problem. We just kept a close eye out on the remaining blankie.

Until last night.

It was time to put the Caboose to bed when we realized that blankie had been left at Nanna and Grandpa's house.

8:00 "I'll just give him another blanket. I'm sure he'll be fine."

9:00 "Well, maybe he just needs to be cuddled a bit."

10:00 "I wonder if my pajama top with the silky lining with work."

11:00 "I think you need to go pick up the blankie."

So this afternoon while running errands, we stopped by the store to pick up this:

A new blankie, with yummy, thick, fleece on one side and silk on the other. It's a replacement for the replacement. Only problem now is that he's started calling my pajama top "blankie" and is insisting on holding both his blankie and my PJs.

Maybe I need to pick up some backup pajamas?

I Don't Want to Grow Up!

Big Boy #1 and I were reading Harry Potter together before bed when he asked me if he would be able to come home for Christmas once he was in college. Although I said "Of course!" he started to cry. For those of you who have managed to avoid the world of wands and wizards, Harry never goes home over Christmas holiday. (With Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon there, why would he want to?)

Apparently the mere thought that you don't, by definition, get home for Christmas was enough to terrify my poor nine year old son.

BB1 started enumerating all the problems of going away to college. Top on his list was the idea that we wouldn't see each other every day. I tried to explain that there would come a time when that wouldn't seem quite so awful to him. He couldn't imagine it.

"I don't want to grow up!"

Hmm. As much as I hate to see my child so upset, I have to admit that I am dreading the day when he will leave. What's worse is that I'm pretty sure it will be harder for me than him. I have to say that I love that BB1 can't stand the idea of being without me.

So bud, in response to your statement, I'm not so convinced I want you to grow up either.

More Pictures

The Great Outdoors

What I love about camping:
1. Time with our family

2. Being in a beautiful environment.

There are simply not enough trees around where we live!

3. Disconnecting from all electronics.

OK, the DVD player in the car on the way up doesn't count. 'Cuz really, that's just so we are even capable of enjoying reason #1 of why I love to camp.

What I hate about camping:
1. I don't sleep well.
2. I worry the whole time.
We were constantly in the midst of water, fire or steep cliffs.
With a two year old. A very active two year old.
3. There are huge amounts of preparation and put-away.

Why we go camping:
1. The boys love it.
2. It's an easy, close getaway.
3. All things considered, it's worth it.