The Race...sigh...

God has a sense of humor.

I spent 6 weeks training for this 5K. I was determined to do awesomely. My goal was to place, but if that was out of the question, I at least wanted to say I ran the entire 3.1 miles.

I didn't do either. But I'm okay with it.

It was 89 degrees and humid the day of the race. I might have grown up in Arizona, but heat and I have been enemies since I was a newborn (ask my mom about the BYU football game she took me to as a baby). In 70 degree weather I can run a 5K without even getting winded. At 89 degrees, I can't run without getting dizzy.

I also failed to anticipate one major factor in my competition: who in their right mind wants to run a 5K with a jogging stroller? That's right. Only moms who probably run a 7 or 8 minute mile without their strollers. When I saw the other three women with strollers, I knew there was no way I was going to place. But that's okay. It was for a good cause, and I had fun chatting with my friends (after the race--during the race I only had enough breath to pant out 'Hey' as I passed by).

I don't have any pictures because Debbie hasn't passed them off to me yet. But I'm determined to do better next year. And Seth and I will continue to run 2-3 miles a couple days a week.

Stupid 89 degree weather...

Picture Album

I'd like to share my Walmart Digital Photo Center photos with you. Once you have checked out my photos you can order prints and upload your own photos to share.

This is for our family: If you want to look and tell me what pictures you want (size, number) I'll get them ordered for you.

They're HERE...

I LOVE Jon's face in this one...

Krystal, we love you.

25 Years of Wisdom, or How We Spent our Birthdays

I think I was 10 years old when I started thinking about my birthdays in longer intervals than 'next year I'll be 11'. I remember laying on my bed and figuring it out:

"In the year 2000, I'll be 15 years old
In 2005, I'll be 20.
And in 2010, I'll be 25!

Dang. 25 is really old."

And that's where it would end. I never kept going past 25.

So it's kind of an uncanny experience to reach the end of my childhood birthday calculations. Next year I'll be...26? That wasn't on my list!

It's not that I think 26 (or 25, for that matter) is old. Not at all. It's just that somehow it's become the boundary when a person goes from 'growing up' to 'grown up.' I'm not sure why this is a little scary for me. For Pete's sake: I'm already married with a kid and a house! How much more grown up can I get? I guess it's just the ending of an era, which is sad and exciting all at once.

Or maybe it's just that my Beehives laughed at me when I didn't know who Ne-Yo or Justin Biber were (or how to pronounce their names). Twenty-five and I'm already out of touch!

We were pretty mellow as far as birthdays go this year. Dinner at P.F. Chang's (tradition) followed by some homemade (by me) cheesecake at Debbie's (she and Nikki were babysitting Seth while we went to dinner). Jon's birthday was when the real fun started: Scott, Mary & Rebekah came to visit for the weekend!

The adorable Miss Rebekah

Not long after they got here, Scott confessed: "We didn't come just to see you guys. We really came so Rebekah could play with Seth."

Still figuring each other out--this was right after they got here

Rebekah observing Seth's tutorial on How to Throw Wood Chips

This girl loves balls. And getting both of them to look at the camera is a joke.

I was a little worried how the Seth-Rebekah dynamic would go, since Seth was rotten the first night (he was tired and Rebekah was in his chair at dinner. Bad combination). But the next day they were playing like best friends. Rebekah loved following Seth around, and Seth loved having someone to squeal with (and someone who didn't steal his toys or try to mother him like his other girlfriends). They really did play amazingly well together.

A cousin duet

It was a nice weekend--just hanging out and relaxing. Of course, we did rope them into coming to our ward Memorial Day Breakfast (I had to be there to help out with the games). But they survived. It was sad to see them go. Seth woke up from his nap and wandered around the house looking for 'Bekah.' Wish you guys lived closer!

How they spent Sunday afternoon--jumping on the bed and squealing like banshees
(which, coincidentally, is Mary's newest vocabulary word, thanks to our game of Cranium)

Thanks to everyone for the birthday wishes and gifts! We were really spoiled this year. Jon got me (for my birthday/Mother's Day) a bike trailer so I can take Seth on rides. Woo hoo!! I got Jon a bunch of shirts. That's what he wanted: nice shirts and to not have to go with me to shop for them.

My bike trailer (which also doubles as a stroller). I love it!

And our BIG not-actually-birthday-but-happened-to-be-around-the-same-time gift? A king-sized bed! We are SO spoiled! The good news is that if you come visit us now, you can sleep in a queen sized bed on a frame instead of a full-sized mattress (no box spring) on the floor. We're moving up in the world! (Pictures to come once Lenae helps me finish picking out curtains that match the new bedspread).

Finally, thank you to everyone who offered advice on Seth's eating and leaf-phobia. We'll let you know how it works out!

And, for the grandparents (I don't expect anyone who isn't family to sit through this one): Seth and Rebekah having a blast together.

Help, please?

We need help. Our son is almost two, and it shows.

The fear of leaves that was so cute a month or two ago? It's gotten worse. Pieces of parsley in alfredo sauce? 'Yeeves.' Dead worms on the sidewalk. 'Yeeves.' Basically anything Seth doesn't want to eat (beans, potatoes, pasta, you name it)? 'Yeeves.' Today he stood on the sidewalk outside for 20 minutes because there was a single leaf on our steps. I refused to go get him. Eventually he braved the terrifying leaf and made it to the house, but not without many tears.

So here's the question: do I force him to deal with the leaf issue, or does that just traumatize him? Is this something I should just let slide because he'll grow out of it? Anyone else out there with a child who has totally irrational fears? For Pete's sake--at least I was afraid of wolves!

Issue #2: food. Our good little eater has begun a downhill spiral. At dinner tonight he wouldn't eat a single thing. So what do we do? Force him to eat? Keep offering him the food he rejected at every meal? Let him live on olives, Parmesan cheese and bread?

I know it's a phase, but it's a phase that my sisters and I didn't grow out of until college. Jon and family, on the other hand, ate all the good stuff growing up and (generally) liked it. So what do you do with your picky eater?

Any advice would be great. I'm already grilling my mom and trying to get Jon to grill his (it's not working too well). I love that little man, but sometimes he's a stinker!