the geekiest halloween

 

If you've talked to us recently, you've probably rolled your eyes as we've tried to convince you that there's a Nickelodeon cartoon you really should watch—Avatar: The Last Airbender. NOT the blue-people Avatar (although the color of our costumes might mislead you). And NOT the Shyamalan movie (I'll never get those 2 hours of my life back). The cartoon is just a fabulous story about interesting characters, even if you think its medium is suspect.

And if you haven't talked to us recently, roll your eyes right now because I'm about to tell you to watch it.

(Any of you netflixers can watch it on instant play. And if you don't have netflix, come to my house and I'll watch it with you. Seriously. I've made rice krispie treats for friends who have taken me up on this.)

Anyway, we joked that we should dress up baby girl as the show's main character for Halloween. And then her still-bald head and my sister's power of suggestion convinced us that the idea was no joke:

She turned out to be the cutest little Aang. The only thing missing from her costume: teeth.

Christopher dressed up as what you might think is a giant, cheesy, anime monster. But when you watch the show, you'll be so invested in the characters that this will be awesome. Plus, it will probably remind you of us.

I wasn't sure at first about wearing a Halloween costume that a larper might use on any normal weekday. But when I realized I could be the moon princess, I pulled out my blue shoes. 

We had fun this Halloween. And we're well on our way to geekifying our daughter. Please go watch our favorite cartoon, or we might just let her unleash some wicked airbending moves on you.

Bicycle/Handcart to Kolob

I rode my bike over 140 miles this week. If I keep this up, I'll be in Nauvoo by October. That is, if I weren't riding in circles.

I've just been riding to and from work. If I were riding across the country it might be newsworthy. So it is with many of our actions. What we do may garner no attention from thronging sweaty teenage fans, but it matters.

Especially with our children. My wife works 8 hours a day for our kid, then I come home, and she works another 8 hours for me and the kid. I make sure to talk to her during commercial breaks.
Seriously, though, that's a lot of work. And it may appear to be no more than a freezer full of pumped milk and a garbage can full of poopy diapers, but it will result in a child equipped with all that is necessary to inherit the throne of God and to reign for the rest of eternity over worlds without end. Pretty damn important.

i went home nearly speechless

I cry when I read the news—and not just when I'm pregnant.

I read stories of horrible things people do to one another and I grieve and worry for them. Sometimes, I even let myself get a little pessimistic. I think: the world has always been this way and will continue to be this way until we blow each other up.

But.

Then the people around me snap me out of it and give me a weekend like last Saturday. People like good friends who made a long drive to see me. People like my in-laws' extended family, several of whom I've done a horrible job of staying in touch with. People like the loveliest women in a ward I moved out of two months ago.

They came together to celebrate a baby girl they've never met, to help me prepare for the arrival of a complete stranger—a little person who didn't even exist on this earth until 8 months ago. They brought her truly generous gifts and wished me well in a way that made me think I might actually be able to do this whole motherhood gig.

This world is filled with good and thoughtful people. Welcoming a baby into this crazy world feels hopeful because of the ones I know.

i'm glad my dreams don't often come true

The night before we flew to Texas for my brother's wedding, I had a dream that I went into labor on the plane. We circled above the Houston airport, but the pilot refused to land because my brother had decided to change venues to hold the wedding on the airport runway. We couldn't land the plane because we would interrupt.

Fortunately, my dream and the reality of the trip didn't match up. I think my brain was just trying to make sense of the way our family is changing. I now have a beautiful sister-in-law who's fabulous for my brother. And in 6 weeks or so, we'll meet a beautiful baby girl who will be fabulous for us. Nothing's better than getting new family members you adore—even better if they don't join your family on an airport runway.

the depth of our gratitude equals the depth of our understanding

All growing up, I knew my dad was a good guy. He encouraged my writing, came to my ballet recitals, and on and on. But I don't think I really appreciated who he was until I grew up enough to move to another hemisphere by myself for a while.

For the first 21 years of my life, my dad was just my dad. He was just a guy who dropped anything to help me with my math and Spanish homework. And after high school, he was just a guy willing to stay up half the night to talk me out of marrying boys who weren't good for me (without letting on that he was doing just that).

Before I went away, I didn't know that so few men are as smart and dedicated and thoughtful as my dad. All the distance I got when I left helped me to understand.

Sometimes, after we leave my parents' house, C. teases me: "It really took you 21 years?" Yeah, I think it did. I'm glad I finally figured it out. Thanks, Dad, for being born and for being so much better than I understood you were for so long.

Happy Halloween

K sewed my costume. Our awesome cousin sent K hers.
I took my nephew trick-or-treating. His pa had to work :(
The Potters showed up to our party.

The Ultra Sound

I edited the ultrasound down to one minute and added a song that K sings to her tummy.

I was going to make a dance club version, or do one with Black Sabbath's "Embryo." But I have homework to do.

Grandparents will get a DVD copy.

This video popped up as a related alternative to watch afterward.

My sister's new blog

My sister changed the address of her blog without telling anyone. So here it is for any of you who read it:

http://stalexia.blogspot.com/

More ta da

This is Christopher, I'd like to add something to Kathy's last post.

The night we found out, Kathy came out of the bathroom and said "I know why I've been acting crazy."

We laughed and celebrated and looked up names in the Oxford English Dictionary, which shows what kind of nerds we are. We've had over a year to think of names, because we've been trying for a while. If we have a girl, we'll name her Ermenie, and if a boy, Truman.

Ermenie is my grandmother's name and etymologically related (in my mind, at least) to Hermes, the god of writing. We'd call her Emmie.

The Greek Hermes is the Egyptian Thoth

Truman was a U.S. president, but we won't name our baby after him because he was a war criminal. Truman has the simple meaning of "true man" but is also next to "trumeau" in the dictionary. Trumeau is "a pillar supporting the middle of the tympanum of a church doorway." This brings to mind the pillars Boaz and Jachin that adorned Solomon's temple.

So it's like naming your kid "The Rock" in nerd-tongue.

If you steal our names, I'll curse you (with cuss words, not voodoo).

I still can't believe it's true, but Kathy throws up a lot to prove it to me.

From my sis

Yes it's a bit last minute, but I was wondering if any of you would like to write something for my blog for tomorrow. If you don't know, I'm doing the blogathon (http://www.blogathon.org) for RAINN (www.rainn.org) tomorrow. Starting at 6am, I'm updating every 30 minutes for 24 hours. It's to support RAINN and get word out too. See, general society doesn't talk too much about rape and abuse, so men and women who've been raped or abused have trouble talking about it, even reporting it. I'm writing my blog for that reason; to be a voice out there.

If you want, write a little bit about me; how you found out about the rape, how it affected you, etc etc. Or you can write about who I am to you today, or...well, whatever pleases you (look at my blog for examples)! And I do my best to not put any names out except mine for protection and whatnot. If you want names in it, change the names, and the names can be simple (Bob) to outrageous (The Black Lagoon Monster or Whatserface).

It isn't necessary, of course. I'm just asking that if you'd like and have free time tomorrow, write some things and send it to me via this email.

If you don't want to, than I ask that you donate (http://www.blogathon.org/pledge.php?blogid=178 [you have to sign up,but it's quick and worth it!], promote my blog on facebook or through email (http://aixela-twentynothing.blogspot.com/), or donate directly to RAINN through their website.

Thank you thank you and thank you a thousand times over.
--
Thank you,
Alexia Stout

My Sister's Blog

My sister started a blog where she deals with the issues and thoughts she has from her experience of being raped as a child.

Check it out.

Anyone who knows someone who has been abused should recommend them to this blog.

My sister is there to help and comfort other victims, as well as to give an inside perspective to those who have friends or family members dealing with these same issues.

She welcomes feedback.

such endless determination has got to be a superpower

Remember that one time when I waited too long to buy the rug I liked that would match my house? When it went out of stock, I searched online and spent ages on the phone with a pleasant but thoroughly unhelpful young man. Well, I sent my complaint off into the internet and someone decided to do something about it:











Meet my super cousin, who does not give up in the face of discouragement, or even downright rejection—and who whipped out some pretty superhuman perseverance to send me a rug.

She had no idea her power would be so thoroughly tested. The rug was lost twice in transit and reshipped three times. Every time it was, she had to find the same rug in a different store, which led her to call both coasts and everywhere in between. She probably should have told me to forget it—that's what I got for delayed rug-buying. But she didn't. And yesterday, the rug arrived.

Thanks, Laur. Our apartment looks super.

some iPod

My sister is staying with us this week and she's learning how to get used to her brother-in-law's constant teasing. Most of the time, she picks up on the tone in his voice and says, "You're silly!" But sometimes, she doesn't have enough context to know quite how to react.

Like this afternoon. We saw someone carrying a tape player like this:



















Christopher said, "Wow. Look at that guy's iPod." My sister stared without cracking a smile. She'd never seen an iPod quite like that before.

we like our new camera (and our new sister)

How convenient that we finally replaced our broken camera less than a week before my brother and his girlfriend got engaged. On the night he proposed, we took lots of pretty pictures of her—which isn't tough because she's gorgeous. She's also a lovely human being, but I don't know how to take a picture of that.

unplugged

Before we left for a family reunion in Idaho this weekend, we both had a strange moment when we actually contemplated bringing our laptops. We would have no internet connection up in the mountains, and probably no time to work on any projects that required computers. But, still. We almost took them—just in case.

Fortunately, our lapse in judgment didn't last long enough for us to actually pack them—the laptops stayed home. And can I just say how nice it was to ditch all things electronic (the internet, cell phone service, tv, etc.) and just BE?

The one gadget I did allow myself was a camera. We replaced our broken one and the new one took some pretty sweet pictures of the fam this weekend. I don't know how to load said pictures onto my computer yet, so I haven't posted any. I'm just going to prolong this semi-unplugged weekend a little longer and worry about pictures tomorrow.

PS: Yes, I realize how silly I am. I'm on the computer right now, writing about how great it was to be off the computer. Looks like I could only handle the joy for 3 whole days.

26.2 things to blog about

My brother sometimes says that he doesn't know what to write on his blog. Last week he ran a marathon. A MARATHON—in LESS THAN 3.5 HOURS. I think that would be a good thing to blog about. I would try to blog about it for him, but I might just end up whining about how crackly my knees are.

Happy Birthday!

My super-cool mom is having a birthday today. I could list one reason I'm glad she was born for every year she's been alive, but I won't, for two reasons in particular:

1. I just barely finished putting together one PRESENT for every year she's been alive and I'm all out of creative juice.

2. If I did that, you would know how old she is. And I learned very young that you don't just go tell the internet how old a woman is.

For example, when I was 4 years old, I shouted to the neighbor across the street how old my mom was turning for her birthday, and then that neighbor chastised me ("You never EVER say a woman's age"). It seemed weird to me then: I mean, at that point in my life, my age was the first piece of information everyone asked me for. And I dutifully held up my four little fingers and said something that sounded like, "Foe. I'm foe yeews ode."

I'm off track. It doesn't really matter how many years my mom has been around—I'm just glad she has been. She better stick around for many, many more.

Hugs. Happy birthday, Mom.

Vote for my brother's band

Go to X-96

http://x96.com/local_bands/

and vote for Belly of the Whale so we can play the B.A.SH.!

Nick says, "and tell everyone you know to do the same baby!"

twenty-three is a good number

I'm going to feel stupid if my brother is actually turning 22 or 24 or 35 or something and I write too few or too many cool things about him. I'm moving ahead under the assumption that he was born 23 years ago today:

1. Daniel is the only person whose hugs make me nervous. They're fabulous, big, strong hugs—that make me wonder if my spine will crack.

2. He has a childhood nickname (Dan-O) that didn't grow out of some 5th grade attempt to name himself something he thought was cool and everyone else thought was lame. You know those people: "My name's Jim, but I like it when people call me Bruiser."

3. When we were kids, Dan-O put up with me one afternoon when I sat him down after a Sunday school lesson to preach to him. The subject of my sermon? Why his fights with me were a symptom of pride. I (of course) was not prideful at all about this.










4. When we were younger, he suffered through all my ballet recitals. Even the junior version of the Nutcracker at the Festival of Trees, and the one where I was dressed as a dancing moonbeam (?). I like to think that I helped him to be as cultured as he is—or as patient.

5. Our family raised rabbits for a while. While I was wholly willing to help with petting the rabbits and filling their water bottles, I wasn't so faithful with cleaning their cages. Daniel usually signed up as the fall guy to clean up bunny poop.

6. He knew how to create and maintain websites before I understood what they were.

7. Daniel never lets me win any game. If I win, it's because I earned it.

8. Daniel can bend his finger all the way backward to touch his wrist. He laughs when he does this, so that it seems like no big deal. But it is. Everyone else is freaking out and waiting to hear his finger break.

9. I needed to know how to kick when doing the breaststroke. But we didn't have a pool handy. So Daniel balanced on a chair—and risked looking silly—to teach me.

10. He has great taste in sisters. His three sisters are probably the best there are. Nice choice, Dan-O.

11. When Daniel came home from his mission, my parents bought him lunch, and then I asked if he would finish eating already and help set up tables and pavilions for my wedding reception the very next day. He didn't gripe at all that I eclipsed his homecoming glory with something as self-absorbed as a froofy dress and a big cake.
















12. Daniel's at least willing to try speaking Spanish with me, even though I usually revert to Portuguese—which makes me sound drunk in Spanish.

13. He wrote a post on his blog today—the 4th post this year.

14. Daniel has mastered jumping off snow-covered cliffs with skis strapped to his feet, while simultaneously not killing himself.












15. He has WAY better stories about the crazy things he did in high school than I do. I'm so jealous. I didn't even think of doing stuff like that to a broken car.

16. If I lend him a stack of books, Daniel reads and returns them before I would have time to even glance at all the covers.

17. He always texts me back right away. And he's not offended when I'm slow in responding (or when I lose my phone for a month and fail to text/call back at all).

18. Daniel's smart enough to do anything he wants. He says his facility with varied skills is a simple matter of breaking down the essential elements of a task and recreating them. You know, break down the essential elements that constitute good watercolor paintings and then just reproduce them yourself. Yeah, he's that smart.










19. Daniel knows how to think things through.

20. Daniel knows how to work hard.

21. Daniel knows he can kick most anybody's butt.

22. Daniel knows how to exercise self discipline more than most people I know. Sometimes, I think he makes things happen with his mind.

23. Daniel was born! Happy Birthday!

I made this

I made this video for my brother's band, Belly of the Whale:

Nothing fancy, but let me know what you think.