The missing character from Inside Out!

Lukas and I are outnumbered.  In the emotion department. There was a great quote a little while ago that I believe went something Like this:

"Number One Reason why it's great to be a guy: 1 Emotion, all the time!"

-unknown

Whoever unknown is, they sure hit the nail on the head. In our family we have 4 girls and 2 boys and it is very evident when you look at our playroom. We have a kitchen, a baby wash area, play food, strollers, basinets, pink stuff here, pink stuff there, pink, pink, pink. Then in one corner we have some matchbox cars, Legos, and Star Wars. Like I said, Lukas and I are a bit outnumbered. Even in my bedroom, on my nightstand, the other night I had to clear off some naked barbies, and doll clothes that had been laundered and put there (WHY)? 

I would like to pose this question to all the women out there. Why is Barbie always naked? I mean she comes perfectly clothed? What type of life lessons are we teaching our girls when their play things get and stay naked? Take a look at boy toys. When I was a kid I played with GI Joe's, He-Man, and Ninja Turtles.  With the exception of the ninja turtles, whose only clothing consisted of some knee and elbow pads and a belt, all other toys clothes were non-removable, meaning they were just a part of the toy as the toy's head.  Anyway, I digress.

Due to the unnaturally high levels of Estrogen in our household (I feel like it's flowing out the windows sometimes) the emotions seem to be very prevalent. 

We recently bought the movie Inside Out and for the most part I felt it was pretty spot on, but several characters were missing.  We have Anger (which is usually me) Joy, Sadness, Disgust, and Fear, but they forgot the emotion that is so common among my girls, Irrational. 

Some of you might think "Irrational is not an emotion, it's a thought process." Not in my house. Irrational rules around here and believe me, it's real. 

Kara works in the mornings, so it's usually up to me to get the kids off to school, pre-school, etc. I'm also in charge of breakfast, making lunches, and kindergarten pick up. Part of that is getting the kids ready. Now luckily, Kara and I wake up the kids early enough so that Kara can get the girls hair done before she has to leave, so that they are not stuck with me doing it. Now my skills have vastly improved since I first started doing hair. I have now graduated to braids and ornaments (like bows and stuff) whereas before I was limited to just brushing (it's a real skill to not rip all the hair out of their heads every morning) and the occasional rubber band pony tail at random points on their head (think Deb from Napoleon Dynamite, yeah that's about my skill level).  So most days the kids at least look good on the top of their heads. Lukas I can handle, along with London (the little top knot works great with her). 

Explosions are a common thing at my house. But instead of the traditional "Boom" and "Kapow" it usually sounds like 

"I HATE THESE CLOTHES!",

 "MY HAIR IS HORRIBLE!",

 "I'M NEVER GOING TO SCHOOL AGAIN!"

"MY COAT MAKES ME LOOK FAT. I'M NEVER WEARING IT AGAIN."

or one of my favorites from Mollie,

"I WANT BACON, NOOOOOWWWWWWWW!"

These little explosions of estrogen happen all over the house, but mostly in the bathroom, which is probably best because there's tile and we can contain the accident, but it also amplifies the sound which can be very painful.

"I'M WATCHING A SHOW!"

During most of these episodes Lukas and I are usually standing by the door, ready, and just waiting to leave. 

Ok that's a lie, but it sure was a good visual. Usually I'm arguing with Mollie the reason why I can't redo her hair like Elsa from Frozen, 

"I WANT A PONY TAIL LIKE ELSA!"

"You do realize you're talking to Dad right?"

"I WANT A PONY TAIL LIKE ELSA!"

"Can't do it, not that I won't but that I can't."

Or one of my favorite conversations, the Nikki doesn't like any of her clothes even though we just bought a whole bunch of new ones the week before.

Lukas is usually looking for his shoes.

On the bad mornings, Mollie usually ends up in time-out several times, Nikki slams her door to her room, won't come out, and blames me for the "Stress" I am putting her through. London, yells at me to give her water from a water bottle, poured into a cup, the correct cup, and not from the tap, and then randomly demanding milk.

Lukas is still trying to find his shoes, but has been distracted by some toys. 

Somehow through all this we somehow get them into the car, after Mollie has changed coats, shoes, sunglasses (yeah don't ask), and Nikki drops the bomb that her homework isn't done.

Oh yeah, Mollie does an online preschool in addition to her regular pre-school.  I hate it.

Once in the car, I try and listen to something from the adult world, like the news, or sports radio. This has been a form of contention between Nikki and I, so I finally just gave up and she now has full control of the radio.

Luckily Nikki is growing up and is learning to control her emotions, and even lets me listen to Sports Radio every once in a while. 

It's nice, after all, Nikki's 9 now, what could happen?

Sleepwalking

To start this post I need to rehash a story from, not my childhood, but my sister-in-law's, who is not going to be named. You see, she was a very cherished child. She did many amazing things, like glue leaves on the living room wall (at least so I've heard). This is a story that has been told over the Sunday dinner table at Grandma's house any number of times, and so I'm sure that she's OK if I share it with the world.
Of course I will add my own additional flair to the story, seeing as I wasn't there and have to make up some of the details.

It was the dead of night when Colby sat bolt upright. Something wasn't right.  Normally a sound sleeper, Colby had been awoken by something, but what. He listened intently for the usual alarming sounds, such as footsteps, windows opening, or the occasional air horn. Nothing.... except... Running water? Huh, maybe one of the kids is taking a bath?

Satisfied Colby laid his head down to sleep once again, when the reality of the situation hit him. I can't get my kids to take baths during the day, why are they taking one now? He leapt out of bed and began to search for the sound of the streaming water. At first he checks the bathroom, negative, then the giant venetian fountain in the living room, nope, Jeeves the butler had already shut it down for the night and retired to the servants quarters. Colby looks left, then right and sees a bedroom door is ajar ever so slightly. He saunters ever so delicately to the opening and peers inside, and sees his daughter , completely asleep, but sitting on the edge of the toy box, like it's a toilet, and is relieving herself, into the toy box, hence the sound of running water.

Fast forward 30 something years, and we have Mollie. I have not as yet gone to bed (thank goodness) when I hear a whimpering from the hallway. Thinking it's just one of the kids doing their usual nightly antics of trying to get a drink of water or a story or a cuddle from me, I do what every father does. I ignore it so they will go to bed.

Then my wife realizes it's Mollie, and Mollie only makes that sound when she has to pee. I run into the hallway, but I don't find Mollie. She's not in her room, in the hallway, or the bathroom. Then I see her, through a crack in the door in Nikki's room. There she is, sitting on the edge of Nikki's bed, trying to get her pants down to pee. She's not awake, and she has no idea what is going on. I grab her and pick her up and RUN to the bathroom. BUUUT, we're too late, kind of. She still has a semi full bladder, but some already had been leaked out on Nikki's floor (but don't tell Nikki, we told her we got her to the bathroom on time).

So Kara grabs a towel, cleans up the spots on Nikki's floor, the hallway, and in the bathroom, while I help Mollie into new pajamas (dry ones).

So Mollie sleepwalks. This is kind of new, but not really surprising. You see Nikki already did this, and to this day she still has conversations in her sleep (loud ones) and she kicks. This is the main reason why she is not allowed to sleep with Kara and I. That and I always kick the kids out at six weeks (as every father should). But usually when Nikki talks, it's not like one or two words, it's whole conversations, and sometimes she's arguing with people we know. Sometimes it's her friends, lot's of times it's us, but they are usually very funny. Look for future posts where I reveal some of the crazy crap she says.

In the meantime, if your kids sleepwalk, be on the lookout, keep the video camera charged, and toy box closed.

Updating the status

So after that last post I got some really great feedback... meaning that people actually mentioned to me that they saw (and read) my post. That alone is a great reason to celebrate, simply that my blog has reached more people than just my immediate family (which is also just a little creepy if you think about it, but that's why I have a public blog after all).

Just the other day, a student at my work whom I had no idea even knew about my blog, came up to me and asked about Kara's grad school, where she was going, what program, and all that fun stuff. So the realization came that maybe I need to fill in a few blanks from the several months where I didn't write anything. I'll hit on some of the highlights.

1. We had a baby. So that makes 4 total. And not only that, she's not really a baby anymore because she can almost change her own diaper (taking off her diaper counts as half, or maybe a third).

2. Kara is DONE with grad school. (and when I say done, I mean completely and irrevocably done. Like the Prophet even signed her diploma. Pretty awesome huh).

3. We moved from Wymount... twice. In what was probably the longest summer of my life last year while Kara did her medical internship at IMC (awesome btw) we finally moved back to good Ol' Cache Valley.

4. Nikki has attended 3 elementary schools in the last year (well a little over a year). She was at Rock Canyon in Provo, then she started at Bridger (which sucked, more about that later) and is now very happy at an undisclosed Elementary school somewhere in Cache Valley (safety first).

5. I have a job.... like a real job. Not a part time thing, I actually have a job with benefits, salary, and get this, they pay me money. I know really cool huh.

6. Kara has a job too. I know, how awesome is that as well. The last time this happened we went from being DINKs (double income no kids) to DISK (double income single kid), to SIWK (Single income with Kids), to NIWKs (no income with kids), then sIWKs (some income with kids (notice the lower case S), to finally DIWMK's (double income with multiple kids). These are official statuses you can claim on your taxes.

7. I am OFF Obamacare....... I'm just happy about this.

8, All vehicles are back up and running.

So that's the summary. We love living in Cache Valley and will continue to post blogs. We live in a great ward. Kara is a member of the relief society presidency, I teach Elder's quorum and assist the the cleaning of the church (and I am fine with that). Life is good.

Basketball shorts and cycling shoes.

Yesterday was Nikki's birthday. She just turned nine and was so very nice the entire day. She got some cool stuff, like a brand new mountain bike that she has been asking for a long time.  Since Kara had to work that morning, it was up to me to take Nikki on the inaugural ride of her new bike. So that means, getting the kids ready, which means shoes and occasionally clothes for the kids. It also meant pumping everyone's tires up, hooking up the bike trailer, and convincing Mollie that she can't ride because she goes way to freakin slow to make any progress whatsoever. A couple of marshmallows later and Mollie is a happy girl (I think I just told my girl if she doesn't exercise she gets sugar..... hope that Pavlov thing isn't real). London on the other hand does not want to go anywhere near the trailer, partly because five minutes earlier it was covered in leaves, dirt, and probably several spiders, earwigs, and box elder bugs (I vacuumed them out, don't worry).

Since we don't have a garage, the trailer has been out on our covered deck most of the winter, and let's just say, it's also pretty old. We got it when Nikki was little (as stated before, Nikki is now 9, NINE!!!!). So when Mollie steps into the bike trailer, the straps that support the bottom suddenly snap, except for one. I locate the one and touch it to test it's durability and it snaps as well. Good thing it's Amazon Prime day, because that's something we are so getting a new one of.

With the straps broken, the girls are pretty much sitting in a semi-flexible garbage bag loosely tied to a frame with wheels on it, that can occasionally go 25 mph (when attached to me). Their butts are literally about one inch off the ground, but it's OK, we're not going very far.

So we head out, everyone has a helmet (that's another thing, I NEVER wore a helmet when I was a kid. In fact I think I bought a helmet just so I could tell my kids the importance of wearing helmets so I didn't look like some hypocrite dad, anyway I digress.) All helmets have been vacuumed and are now spider web free, and we're off. Nikki is leading, Lukas is in the middle, and I'm dragging the two littlest's butts (literally) behind me. Within about 20 minutes of starting out, Lukas's pedal falls off, like to the ground. He has no pedal now, no way to have any forward momentum. Luckily we are only 20 minutes of kid bike riding out, so that means we are approximately 5 minutes of walking distance away from home.

Nikki's a little bit disappointed, but she's fine. She got a chance to ride her bike so she's happy. I unclip out of my bike. Well let me explain this, I have one bike, and it's my road bike that I do races and stuff in. So I use clipless pedals, which is great unless you just want to jump on your bike and run to the store for something.  I just want to clarify that I wasn't dressed all hardcore tour de France to ride my kids around the neighborhood. Yes I had a helmet on (just in case we crashed going 1 mile an hour) but the rest was a T-shirt and basketball shorts.

Basketball shorts are like the men's version of Yoga pants. They are comfortable, easy to put on, we are technically dressed when wearing them, you can also sleep in them, but most of the time, no basketball is done while wearing them. Just like majority of time that yoga pants are worn, no yoga is being performed... implemented... effectuated... accomplished (OK now I'm just using the thesaurus). You get my point, I was just dressed normally.

We're walking back and I decide to take off my cycling shoes because I don't want to ruin the cleats, and lo and behold, one of my cleats has broken off and is now sitting there on my bike pedal.

The round part is my pedal, the other rectangle part is what is supposed to be attached to my shoe.

So if anyone is keeping track, this month, every single one of our vehicles has gone out of commission. The Rendezvous, the minivan, my motorcycle, and now my bicycle. I'm afraid to touch the kids razor scooters.

We made it home, in about ten minutes, with London standing up in the trailer, dragging it even further down so it is now touching the pavement as we walk home. Lukas stops at every opportunity to look at a rock, the canal, a beaver (that actually was pretty cool, it was swimming in the canal) and we finally get home, where I sit down in the front yard, pull London out of the trailer and put her on a little Buzz Lightyear push wagon that immediately stops making the sounds and lights that it normally works. That's vehicle 5.

I think I'll take the bus tomorrow.

I think she's actually standing on the lawn through the trailer.

The Klc's and the the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad MONTH!

Some days are better than others, and then you get a whole month of "What just happened?" That would be an apt description of the past month that we have had. I haven't been here for a while, and I am not going to make excuses, but after you read this blog post, I think you just might understand. So let's catch you up. It's summer (duh), kids are out of school (double duh) and I think I mentioned in one of my past blogs that we have a baby. Yeah, she's a year old now. Sorry London if this is the first time you're mentioned in a blog, but by now you could really probably write your own blog post.
I can't remember most things right now because I am running off of two non-sequential hours of sleep. All will be made apparent in a minute. Let me explain.

Back in April (yeah I know) we received news that our renter for our home in Taylorsville was losing her housing funding, and that she had to move. After much thought, and prayers, we (mainly me pushing really hard) decided that the best option would be to fix up the house and sell it.  So after it took us a month and a half to get our old renter and her ten kids out (yep ten kids, ridiculous right, I mean who is so irresponsible that they have ten kids (disclaimer: I am not a dick, I also came from a family of ten kids, so therefore I can make fun of them and say anything I want about irresponsibility)) we began the most fragrant task of fixing up the house. After approximately six weeks it was ready after new paint, cabinets, floors, appliances, walls, toilets, dirt, grass, air, pipes, fixtures, about a thousand magic erasers, jeans that are now jean shorts, several shirts, a tetanus shot, the equivalent of a bio decontaminate scrub down in my mother in law's garage (by my wife, not my mother in law), approximately 1700 trips to the home depot, lots of money, and sprinklers.

Sprinklers is where this whole thing started. We had been spending every weekend down in Taylorsville fixing the house, and on this particular day (Monday) I was finishing up some things on the sprinkler system, when suddenly nothing was working. I would turn on the water, and water was gushing out of a broken pipe, then another zone was half on, and I had no idea what was going on. So after about 8 trips to the home depot, I still had no idea what was wrong, I was already late for work (up in Logan) and the kids wanted to go to Lagoon. I had my car,  and Kara had the mini-van, and we were off. I was heading home to shower and go to work, and Kara took the kids to Lagoon. The plan was to hire (get this) a Professional, to fix the sprinklers. I know, crazy right. Sprinklers are like Legos, they just fit together, and only an idiot hired a profi. Well, call me an idiot because it was the best time saver I ever found. Expensive, but worth it.

So after the stress of the sprinklers, I'm on my way home, and I haven't had lunch. So I stop in North Ogden at the Maverick to get a Cheddar Wurst (hot dog with Cheese) and a drink. After the purchase... my car won't start. I try to get it jumped, twice. Nothing. I make the call to Kara, who btw is already at Lagoon with the kids, and tell her the news. I hear in the background a collective "Noooooooooo" when Kara breaks the news to the kids. Luckily my kids are awesome, and leave without complaint. Plus we splurged and got season passes this year, so the kids are more amiable to short lagoon trips. Kara comes and gets me, and I get to work about three hours late.

Wednesday. It's my starter and we have a mechanic in Ogden working on it. So I am mounting up on my motorcycle to ride to work. After one block, I pull me left lever to disengage the clutch, and
SNAP! My clutch cable snaps in half, leaving me riding along, in gear, with no way to stop.
Luckily I was only in second gear, and my bike just putters to a stop.

Friday- We go camping.

Saturday- I help my dad move all of his stuff out of his office (he's retiring), and after we are done, I climb into the minivan, that we just took camping, and suddenly I hear animal sounds inside the stow and go. A family of beavers has taken over my van and are now attacking my children with their giant beaver teeth. Mollie is bleeding profusely from an arm wound but has a baby beaver by the tail and she is repeatedly beating it against the glass window. Lukas has lost a shoe, his hat, and an eye, but has the hot dog roasters and is using them as spears to keep the beavers at bay.  London lay there like a slug, it was her only defense.

Ok that didn't really happen. Here's the real story.

BEARS!!!!!

My wife is reading this over my shoulder and now wants me to erase the whole thing about the beavers and tell the truth. I will do the latter.

The minivan starts to over heat. The temperature gauge is rising to the red, and all I can do on this hot  June day is turn on the heater and open the windows. My father in law gives me and my family a ride up to North Ogden where my car is waiting, supposedly fixed and ready to go (did you notice the word supposedly).

In one week all three vehicles are out of commission. The next day I rode my bicycle to work. Nothing has happened to it... yet.

A week goes by. Somewhat quiet.

Fourth of July is fun, except for the storm that prevents us from lighting off fireworks.

Sunday we light off the rest of our fireworks, Mollie sprays a whole bottle of perfume in our whole house while we are lighting off fireworks. Neighbor kids are also fully saturated by said perfume. Our house now smells like a junior high girls locker room, if girls used the same amount of perfume as teenage boys did. Everyone goes to bed with a migraine (including our neighbors).

Sunday Night- We are awoken to a sound of liquid hitting sheets. London...has thrown up.

Monday- London's vomiting has subsided to the point where Kara feels safe to take the kids down to Salt Lake to pick up our van. The plan is to drive to Ogden, take FrontRunner, pick up the car, her wedding ring (which is being refurbished for her birthday) and head back up to Logan.

So much for plans. On the way to Ogden (btw I was at work this whole time), the kids roll down the driver's side back window, and it won't roll back up. She leaves the car with the same mechanic who recommends that we just sell the vehicle.

Kara misses the first train and has to wait for the second. She finally gets down to Salt Lake with all the kids, picks up the van, the ring, and is about ready to go home.

No story is complete without a trip to the emergency room.

Lukas was rough housing with his cousin, and somehow slammed the back of his head into the movie screen at grandma's house, resulting in a gash the requires, not stitches, but STAPLES.

I was not there, but according to Kara, he was a tough little dude. Didn't cry, just whimpered a little. Now contrast this with our other children, let's say Nikki. At the mere mention of pain, she acts like the dude from How to train your dragon that keeps yelling out "Oh I am hurt, I am very much hurt." Like seriously, when she had some teeth pulled and the novocane (not sure if that is spelled right) started to wear off, she started acting like a crazy drunk person, yelling and screaming and falling all over the place. Drool everywhere. I contemplated taking a picture, but the thought occurred to me that my daughter might be in pain, and needed comfort instead of an instagram moment.

Lukas did none of that stuff. He's fine and even shows off the stitches.

I went to a movie with my students. Inside Out. great show. Kara got up to Logan at 11:30 pm instead of 8 pm, like she originally planned. She was not happy.

Wednesday. My sister in law works at Harmons, and it is their lagoon day (yes back to lagoon). After Nikki goes to dance and I work for a token amount of hours, we head down, in the rain, and we hydroplane on the freeway (don't worry we don't crash). We get to ride Cannibal, all the kids are having fun, and even London (who we were worried wasn't fully recovered) is doing great.

Wednesday afternoon.  Mollie falls asleep. Mollie wakes up. Mollie barfs all over the side of the wagon, not once, not twice, but three times. Time to go

5 minutes after Mollie pukes: Lukas informs me he doesn't feel good either. We make it back to the pavilion where our stuff is, and Lukas unloads (in a garbage bag). Right after his stomach empties, he wipes his mouth and says "Can I go on more rides now?"

That's my boy.

We load the kids into the car, I'm in the back holding bags up to the kids who alternate between puking and sleeping. We arrive home and Kara immediately brings Mollie in to put her in the bath. Nikki (who is not barfing) runs inside and locks the door to her room and stays there. Somehow London got into the house. My job is to bring Lukas in. Right after he exits the car, he panics and tries to get the bag out of my hand that he has already barfed in. Instead he runs to the bushes and unloads. We now have read bushes (cotton candy). He's sad, embarrassed, and tired. I pick him up and take him inside, where he informs me "Dad, I pooped my pants."

yep, Diareahh.

I like especially how he decided to tell me after I was carrying him.

Inside Kara has made a similar discovery with Mollie.

Their underpants are thrown away. Kids are bathed, and put to bed.

Nikki has London in her room (that's where she went) and Nikki is terrified of getting the flu. As we are talking outside of the bathroom, Mollie emerges again, vomit erupting out of her mouth, and staggering toward the bathroom crying "daaaadyyy".  Nikki screams "MOLLIE" and runs back to her bedroom and locks the door. Seriously it was like she was a zombie or something (albeit rather humorous). We finally get Mollie back in bed, when Lukas wakes up, pukes, and poops in his bed this time.

It's 1 am.

We finally lay down to sleep, when we hear someone emerge from Nikki's room. Someone bolts into the bathroom and unloads something fierce. Nikki now has the flu.

Throughout the rest of the night, Kara and I are awakened roughly 3 times every hour to attend to a child. Between the hours of 4 and six, the children have finally passed the worst of it. We fall asleep.

I'm awoken by London.....

Asking for some milk.

She's feeling better.

Downstairs I hear the TV on.

It's Lukas, he's watching TV.

He want's cereal.

Mollie wakes up and puts on makeup.

They're both fine.

Nikki is on the mend too.

Now we wait.... to see if and when Kara and I get sick.

I went to work.

Sorry everyone at work.

Boys (not mine)

So this is a post that I didn't think I would have to write for, well, a really long time. Mainly because I figured my little girls are, little. My oldest is only 8 years old, and yet it has started.

There is a disease out there, a disease of the brain which makes it completely shut down for several years except for the most vital of functions, such as breathing and talking on the phone. There is no immediate cure, simply having to wait it out until it runs it's course. This viral infection, I'm afraid, is boys. Not my son, I'm talking about boys who are around the same age as the females in my family.

I've worked very hard to inoculate my girls against it, talking about how dumb most boys are and how they're not worth the time. I let them know that boys fart ALL the time and that it's worse than girl farts, and even shown by example. So far it has worked, but I see an infection brewing in my oldest.

This first episode is not her fault, it's the boy's (it always is, unless we're talking about Lukas and then it's the girl's fault). I had no idea what was happening until my wife pointed out the little culprit (who will remain un-named until I feel the need to expose him). He just happens to be the brother of one of Lukas's little friends, and makes a point of walking his brother over here every time it's time for their playdate. Its by no means necessary, because his older sister is already walking him over, so he is just along for the ride. It wasn't always like this, usually the older sister would just walk the friend over, but now without fail, the brother is always there, and every time, I see his hopeful face at the front door drop when I answer, instead of Nikki, whereas when Nikki answers, its accompanied by "Hi Nikki! How are ya? Nice day we're having? Gosh you look pretty! Wanna go to the prom with me when we're in High School?" Ya know, stuff like that.

This was as far as it went, until the other day, when I was not here, and the boy brought over his little sibling to make an unscheduled play date (which I'm Ok with btw, it's what comes next that has me concerned). He did his usual thing and asked for Nikki, and then somehow managed to get invited in for a play date of his own... with my daughter.

He's good.

Should I be worried?

Not yet I don't think, and I wasn't until yesterday.

We were going to the jump-zone and Nikki was allowed to bring a friend along (don't worry, boy was not invited). The day was fun, no broken bones, everyone happy, and no fits, and then as we were driving home, I catch 2 simple words of the conversation my child is having with her friend, amidst the sports talk radio that I am listening to. I pause for a minute and think if I heard the words correctly and in the right context, but it's there, and there is no mistaking it. The words "Boy" and "Cute" in the same sentence. I gradually turn down the radio to listen more intently, but these girls are smart, and are wary of my dadly ways, and all conversation stops. So I try and make light of it,

"What are you girls talking about?" That's me being light.

"Nothing dad, just plain old girl stuff."

Her friend, "And certainly nothing about boys."

Crap, confirmation, she's no longer a little girl anymore and is growing up, something all fathers strive to prevent from the day that his little girl takes her first breath. Maybe it's just a little bit of jealousy, but for the next few years I was hoping that I would be the only man in her life, except Lukas of course.

On the other hand I see I have now located a source of future information. Nikki needs to stay friends with this one through high school, because she is what we call the spiller of all secrets, and does so in such a complete unknowing sort of way that she still believes she has kept the secret.

Or I could just talk to my daughter about it. I feel Nikki and I have a great relationship, mainly because she is a lot like me, and that is also what scares me about this next part of her life, because I know what I was like.

Swim the fish.

So my kids have been begging me for a while to get a pet. I don't know why because all my kids are deathly afraid of anything that has a pulse and fur. For all you people who know Nikki, she is the one who started this crazy phase of screaming and panicking whenever she hears the bark of a dog, no matter how far away it is. But a few months ago she made some great strides and befriended my brother's dog August, who is also a service animal. We told her all about him and how he is special trained to look after my niece's diabetes. This seemed to be a good reason to befriend the dog, and she realized that not all dogs are evil and going to bite you.

What's crazy is a few years ago, my parents had a dog named Buster, and Nikki LOVED him. Like literally LOVED that dog. She was only 2 when he died of cancer, but she would lay on him, ride him, pull his tail, and he would basically sit there and endure her. He was a mix between a Black Lab and a Great Dane, so he was HUGE. But he also had a scooby doo face, and the most gentle disposition. After a while he would just get up and move away from her when she was annoying him.

Flash to today. Nikki is terrified, and that terrified reaction has been passed on to the other kids, unless Nikki isn't there, and then Lukas loves dogs, especially Huskies (I don't know where he got that one from). Mollie still acts like she's scared, but I think she's just playing the part of the scared little girl. She runs and grabs her blanket before running away from the dog, so that she has her comfort item while she snuggles with daddy.

Anyway, back to our pet. Yes, we got one, and it's probably the easiest pet you can get (at least that is what Pet Smart says, and yes, I asked). When we went there, Lukas was looking at Turtles, and Snakes (you're welcome Kara), Guinea pigs, but there weren't any dogs there. He also said he didn't want a cat (which I wasn't going to get him any of the above, we were getting a fish, and that's it). But we got to the pet store and looked over all the stuff, and finally got a salesperson to help us out. She seemed to be very passionate about fish, and especially Betta's because she told us everything we need to know and more... in one breath. Which I kind of like. If you can describe all their wants and needs in one breath, then that's a good pet.

The fish itself was around $5, the tank, about $8, food, $5, gravel $3, leafy thing for it to sleep on $3, little log thing that Lukas insisted we buy, $4.  Not buying a dog. Priceless. As we were checking out, I had no idea that there was a guarantee on the fish. Seriously, if your fish kicks the bucket within 14 days of bringing it home, then you just bring that sucker back and they will get you a new one, AND you get to keep the dead fish! Sounds good. The checkout lady said that was in the event that we wanted to have a funeral or something.  So, don't flush those fish right away.

So we got in the car, and there's London and Lukas in the back seat, and Lukas is holding the fish. He didn't want to name it until we got out of the pet store, and as soon as we got outside, the naming began.

Lukas- "Hmmm, how about Fishy?"

Me-"That's kind of a weird name for a fish."

"yeah, how about Fisher?"

yes let's name him after the murderer of fish shall we.

"Bob? no not Bob, I know how about Swim?"

"Eh, alright, you sure?"

"Yes, Swim is a great name. Dad, what do we do when he dies?"

crap, just barely got his fish and he's already thinking up a contingency plan. I thought I had to do that. I mean, I've watched Full House, I know what you do with a dead fish. That's what that 14 day policy is for right?

"Well, everything dies eventually, what will we do?"

"Get another fish."

Good plan.

"Dad, what will happen when his body and his spirit separate?"

This is getting pretty deep, well, go for the truth.

"That would mean he's dead."

"Ok, does he have a brain?"

and it went on and on.  So we finally make it back home, and the lady at the fish store, in her one breath soliloquy on "How to care for a Betta?" mentioned that all you need to use is Spring water for them. Like bottled water. Or water with no chlorine. They had this lovely bottle at the pet shop titled "Betta Water" that was about a liter, and cost somewhere around $8. Basically just arrowhead with a  picture of a fish on it. Seriously, I should do this if pet people will buy this crap.

We set up the tank, put in the gravel, the log, the plant, and now all we need is water. Water..... hmmm, where can we get water. I usually throw out several half dunken water bottles every day, and about ten ever time I clean out the cars. So I task Lukas with finding the above mentioned water bottles. Within 30 seconds he's located the fist, then I find the second, then a big find, Kara's water bottle from he gym last night. This filled up the tank about 1 inch above the gravel line. WE NEED WATER! We're off looking again, and Lukas points to the squirt bottle we use to spray down the kids hair. It's got about a liter in it. Close enough. (this whole time, that 14 day policy is running through my mind). By now we have the fish tank half full of water. In goes the fish. I now have a happy little boy, with a fish named swim, and I still don't have a dog. Life is good.

We need new phones

You know that moment, when you know you need to buy something, but you really don't want to, either because you really like the old one, or the new one is just too darn expensive, or both? Yeah that's happening right now. It's happened before with several other things, like this backpack I had on my mission. It was awesome, had lots of patches on it that made me look like a world traveller, lots of pockets, and it was held together by duct tape. No really it was. The duct tape wasn't the first solution, it was actually fix #3, and it lasted the longest. The strap on it started to fray and so a member in the ward I was serving in volunteered to fix it, by sewing it. She did a great job, and it looked nice, and it worked... for about a month. Then I tried glue, and that... well let's just not talk about that one. Finally I ended up with the duct tape and made it work, for over 8 years. Duct tape is awesome, you should buy it, and duct tape should pay me for endorsing them. I also used it as a bandage one time in high school. And it worked.

Well, my phone, and Kara's, are by no means as reliable as that old back pack. If you could compare phones to shoes, ours would be the no-name brand shoes that you find on the clearance rack at Wal-Mart, that no one likes, but you buy because it was such a good deal, even if they are a size too large.
You see, we made the big jump to "smart phones" a few years ago, and Kara still has her same phone, and it was a basic model at that. We both had the same phone but mine died a little earlier than hers, like year earlier. It started to only allow me to make emergency phone calls. After I paid the bill, the problem still persisted, and after having the 911 dispatcher patch us through to Dominoes to order pizza a few times, I figured it was time to get a new phone. So last father's day Kara and the kids bought me a Nokia Lumia Windows phone. Everything was great about this phone, that is until I updated the software. The "Upgrade" was supposedly to a more efficient, higher functioning operating system that was very intuitive, and as advertised "Like having your own personal assistant." Well, my personal assistant apparently falls asleep, can't take a memo, forgets all my contacts, and hacks into my Facebook all the time. She's fired.

I like to run. Ok, let me re-phrase that, I like the feeling I get after I run, and sometimes during running when I am in shape. The past few months I can't even seem to get out of bed early enough except for the occasional bi-monthly jaunt. The reason. My phone (well that's my excuse to my running buddy, sorry Schuyler). Well that and London. You see, I set my alarm for some stupid time in the morning that is usually too early for anyone to actually function, let alone want to do anything at a fast pace. This apparently is also true for my phone. I set an alarm. One simple alarm. In computer terms I think it's 10 lines of code. My phone decides it is too hard to do it, freezes up, and then I wake up when my wife's phone goes off, which is too late to go running ( to be perfectly honest, I like this a little bit too much, but seeing as how my belly button is now visible as a circular disk when I wear t-shirts, it's time to fix it).

Kara's phone on the other hand, works... kind of. A few months ago, all normal functioning sounds have been replaced by little 8 bit original nintendo sounds, strike that, Atari. It sounds like a dial-up modem. It has begun the whole emergency calls only thing, and here's a good one, randomly calling people. So if Kara decides to reach out and contact you in the next little while, and all you hear are the keys in your purse, just remember, she still loves you, but did not mean to call you. Sorry everyone with a name that starts with A. Also butt dials have reached an all time high, due to the fact that her phone will randomly unlock, and dial either the most recent, or the one at the top of the contacts list. Luckily, my name is Andrew with a capitol A. Made her change it from hot buns a little while ago, maybe it's time we switched back.

So tonight we just might be heading over to the Wal-Mart to pick out some other awesome low quality phones to which we will pay way too much money that is last years model. Maybe we'll buy an Android with a higher operating system than Android 1.o Sugar Cube.

My new years resolutionary tactics!

It's a brand new year, and a brand new set of resolutions that I plan on not keeping. So there, I said it, it's not happening. Well, maybe I will try and get my finances in order, maybe I will actually break 3 hours in my 5k, etc. So instead of resolutions, I am putting together a wish list of things I would like to happen.

1. Mollie will stop screaming out random stuff in the middle of the night.

I used to be a light sleeper, now I would say I am just a light waker, meaning I am always just on the brink of not being awake. The above headline does nothing to help this. Each night Mollie has very vivid dreams and typically yells at the people in the (usually us) to do something. Between that and her inability to go to the bathroom without someone else in there to keep her company, I typically sleep in twenty minute intervals, and in the parking lot waiting to pick up the kids from pre-school.

2. My kids will suddenly not cost ANYTHING!

When Kara and I were first married our largest bill was our rent, which was $450 a month. We had that, and a car payment, plus food. Now that we have kids, that has been multiplied, many times over.  In order to keep the kids in dance, pre-school, and waffles it ends up taking up a pretty penny. I'm not doing this for sympathy so please don't go out and set up a fund for us at Zion's Bank, or do, I won't complain. We make enough money and now that Kara is finally done with school (well, really close) we are going to be better. Let's just say that the little tax exemption we get for having kids is a small drop in the bucket compared to the kids GoGurt bill.

3. I will poop out all my fat!

It's a little far fetched, but hey, wouldn't you want that?

4. I will have that Barbie dream house thing where it cleans itself.

This is a wish for both Kara and I. Mollie watches this show called Barbie life in the dream house and  to clean the house all they have to do is push a button and the whole floor flips over to reveal an identical side that is also clean. Yes, I would like that.

5. None of my kids will get sick, ever.

I have to admit, we have it pretty good in this department. There are no life threatening illnesses or deformities plaguing our children. But when kids get sick it is really not fun. Kara and I have worked out a pretty good system when the kids are sick. She goes out and buys every type of medicine she can find to calm the worrier in her, and I sit with said sick child and watch football. Yes I run the risk of catching whatever illness the child has, but when you compare how many times I get sick compared to Kara, it's the best bet. 

Our old system did not work very well due to lack of communication and how we were raised when we were sick. Let's take vomiting for example. When I was a kid, we were given a bowl as an extra precaution if we couldn't get to the bathroom in time. Kara was given a bag. We combined the two.

What we didn't talk about before-hand was how we were going to handle a child who was in the midst of vomiting with neither bowl, bag nor bathroom handy. 

My method- run with the child as fast as possible to nearest bathroom, bag or bowl whilst child throws up on floor on the way.

Kara's method- Turn said child in direction of husband so as to maximize coverage of vomit on husband. After belly has been emptied of all possible fluid, put child in bath. 

Don't have sick kids, just don't.

6. I will have limitless amounts of energy to call upon

I feel guilty when my kids ask me day in and day out to play and I simply cannot make out what they are saying because I am swaying back and forth due to lack of sleep (see wish number 1). I think if each parent had this, all parenting problems would be solved. When I have enough sleep I can pretty much conquer anything, even a sick child pointed in my general direction. But when I am tired I sometimes don't want to play barbies, or Lego Indiana Jones, or even put on pants. Can someone please invent something that is not addictive and that doesn't give you cancer that can fix this problem?