Why I'm a bad blogger, in a nutshell

We just got back from Arizona.

Sorry, no pictures.  Again.

It was the second annual Brothers' Birthday Golf Trip (i.e. excuse for Slice to play golf for a few days, and for us to get out of Utah, and to visit family).

This year didn't turn out exactly as planned - my sweet sister had emergency surgery four days before we were scheduled to arrive, and was recovering instead of "party hosting" - but it was wonderful anyway.  Just too short.

The weather was perfect and Liam was a trooper.  A TROOPER, I tell you!  I'm not gonna lie, I was terrified to take him on a 12-hr drive when the longest we'd previously attempted was 7.  So we drove to Springville, ate, bathed and dressed and bottled him, and continued on our way in the dark.  He woke up only once before Vegas and fell asleep pretty quickly after that, sleeping until we were just minutes from Heather's house.

(Don't tell anyone, but I think having him in a front-facing carseat did the trick.  He loves being able to see.  That just may have saved us.)

Yesterday afternoon we decided to drive back home through the night, instead of all day today as planned.  The Utah weather was looking ominous and Liam did so well on the drive there.  So we packed and said goodbye, all too soon.
We're still recovering.

Other stuff we did in AZ:

• watched Toy Story 3, finally
• called around for open jobs
• made orange juice from freshly-squeezed, neighbor-grown oranges
• played with Lincoln logs
• visited Cold Stone again
• showed off our adorable son
• did NOT go to a spring training game
• did NOT get enough sleep (thanks, Liam!)
• made coconut curry for the Dopps, complete with sushi
• talked talked talked
• started a new family venture: to be revealed ... soon
• wished we didn't have to come back to Utah for at least a month.  Alas.

In the St. George

... until Thursday. I've never been here except to pass through, and Liam and I will have the next two days all to ourselves - thanks to State Golf.

Is there anything we HAVE to do? Weather permitting, of course.

Thanks!

offering some sour grapes

So the awesome thing about working in a publicly-funded position is that everyone’s watching you, all the time.  And wanting to know where your money is coming from.

For instance:

Apparently some people think that Slice is getting paid double for coaching the boys’ golf team.  As in, paycheck from the school district and paycheck from the city for the same hours he puts in.

Newsflash!

He’s not getting paid from either.

My husband coaches 3 hours a day on school days (not to mention summer practices) and all day on many Thursdays, volunteering his time, out of the goodness of his heart.  For the love of the game.  Whatever.

And half of those punks don’t even care.  They fool around, wasting their time and his (and mine!) because they’ve never worked a day in their lives.  Their parents buy them trucks and Ipods and clubs and carts - and college educations.  Their mothers call and make excuses for them when they're late for practice.  They haven’t a clue what a precious commodity TIME is for some people.

You sense my frustration, yes?

(I was having a hard enough time with this before I heard of the accusations...)

The injustice of it all, I guess, is that so many people don’t see my husband for what he really is.  I’m sure this is true for everyone to a certain extent, regardless of profession.  Spouses see it and lament over it and bear the burden of it.  Which is why I try to give people the benefit of the doubt, every time.

Oh, I wish they all would!

Rant over.

PS This has nothing to do with my post from last week, although I do seem to be agitated lately, don't I?
PPS Slice will probably want me to take this down so if it disappears, you'll know why.  He's like that.

Open Sesame

This weekend Slice is playing in this:

and you can watch the live scoring (if you so wish) here.

I'll be heading down today to watch a bit -he'll play at least three 18-hole rounds-

 take some pics, visit with Lu, and possibly do some shopping.

(Vehicle shopping?)

Good luck Slice baby!

I tried the single parent thing.

It was about like I predicted it would be.

Okay, not really.

Slice flew to Texarkana for five days, where he stayed and took lessons from a famous golf teacher. It was the longest we've been apart in two years. (I think.)

Liam missed him a lot. We texted and Skyped, and to my surprise, Liam liked the Skyping. See:

I was also wondering if Liam would punish Slice when he got home. Babies do that, you know? But no - he was SO HAPPY to have his dad back that he smiled for like two hours straight.

I never get that kind of treatment.

I guess mothers never do.

API

Last weekend was the annual American Petroleum Institution golf tournament, Ki and I took pictures again.

I'm pretty sure Liam is still punishing me for the two days of neglect.

But hey. Now I have nothing planned for, oh, the rest of my life.

How about that?

Lately

We are finally at the painting stage!
Although we'll be IN this stage for a while, because between the traveling and schooling and working and churching -and don't forget the coaching- we are both so busy we can't do anything about the room. Blech.
Still haven't decided on the color anyway...

In other news, last weekend was awesome.
I mini-golfed with my Slice for the first time ever. YES he took his own putter in and YES I was embarrassed about that, and YES he beat me, but I wasn't bad either so it was really fun.
We also ate some surprisingly good Japanese food and had a little baby BBQ with friends - which I cannot recommend enough. We got some darling baby stuff and visited with friends I haven't seen for far too long! Thank you everyone who came.
(No pictures though.)

Last night I was a judge for the Altamont Idol competition. Going in I had no idea what would be expected of me (praise? criticism?) so I was a little nervous. I've still never even watched an episode of American Idol. Fortunately, we had a rubric and gave scores and that was it. Phew!

Lastly, I somehow slept through Phil's win even with Slice right next to me, watching and hollering (and fist-pumping) every so often. I'm thinking that is the best way to watch sports.

Some things about which I am ignorant

Firstly,
having never been 7 months pregnant before, I am unaware if this is "normal" or not. My baby is moving approximately 22 hours out of the day.
I hear/read people say "husband felt the baby!" And I think, "husband gets kicked if he comes anywhere near the baby!"
We started this game where Slice pokes my stomach to see if he'll get kicked back. He does, oh he does. Pretty much every time, unless baby is sleeping.
I had a real scare Saturday when (amidst 5-min-apart contractions) I didn't feel him for several consecutive hours. A few punches would have been welcome....
which is what I'm trying to remember this morning as my ribs and lungs are being assailed.


Secondly,
Girls (girl's? girls'?) golf season. New team members. Precocious freshmen.
Charming coach.
They are "working really hard" at practice, staying afterward so the Coach can work with them. Last Thursday Slice ate lunch here in the LMC, stayed to type some stuff on my computer, and I watched from the back room as the freshmen girls swarmed him. They chatted, checked out books, returned them, moved to MY SIDE of the desk, etc. When I came out, they scattered.
Saturday we went to see our local Oklahoma! production. We sat in an empty row and -you guessed it!- the three freshmen girls came and sat in the row with us. After intermission they moved CLOSER. To the seat right next to Slice.
I thought it was funny, Slice not so much.

Should I be doing something here?

Like this?

Top of the Third

(trimester, that is)

Last Wednesday after work we headed out to AZ and drove through the night. We got to Heather's around 5:30 and crashed for a couple hours before getting up for the day.

Thursday and Saturday Slice golfed with his brother. Technically, that's why we went in the first place.

Friday we all went to a Baseball Spring Training game - Angels v. Indians - and it was H.O.T. Seriously, the 70s felt like 90s to me, I was sweating and sunburning and stuff. It was fabulous.

Right as he took this picture, our cameraman asked "Are you two newlyweds or something?"
Please note my BLACK shirt + totally awesome hair.

Saturday, Slice turned 23. We celebrated with "giant candy!" gifts and carrot cake (cream cheese frosting, rolled in sliced almonds). You should have been there.

Also Saturday, my brother Alex came home from his mission in Nebraska. I was sad to miss it.

Sunday we drove home and Laurel made us some fab lava cake. She didn't even KNOW I'd been wanting lava cake for at least six weeks. (You'd think I would just make it for myself. But no.)

We didn't get home until midnight.

Yesterday the Roosy golf course opened ... which means Slice is dead to me.

Still contracting. Frequently. They are starting to hurt.

it's Thursday again

This is what happens when The Photog stays in bed, even though I (sort of) asked him to take a picture this morning because it's Thursday.
What are we at now, 24 weeks? I don't even know exactly.
Maybe that's weird.

For those who are wondering, I have gained approximately 11 pounds. I still wear my regular clothes about half of the time, thanks to all those clothes I bought in college when I weighed more than I do even now (see here for details). I don't drink enough water, I don't exercise at all, and I eat a lot of oatmeal and fruit snacks. I also take naps when I can.
Obviously, not much has changed.

Baby has a favorite song - if jumping frantically and beating against the chamber through the entire thing is any indication of favoritism (see here for details). We sang it at the end of choir practice Sunday, and OH BOY can this child move.
He also gets excited whenever Daddy is around and talking. Practicing his golf swing in there, no doubt.
Too bad I won't be able to help with that.


Yesterday I went to German class to talk about Austria. I was so excited about it, I took almost an hour instead of the 20 minutes I was supposed to take .... whoops. This speaking opportunity made me realize three things:

1. I did not bring back anything from Austria for myself. Salt & Pepper shakers for Mom, miniature Black Forest clock for Dad, Mozart puppet for Em, nothing (except large clothes) for me. Check.
2. Gosh, I miss it! I miss the food and the old beautiful buildings, the churches, the opera. I miss hearing and speaking German every day. Someday I'll go back, just you wait and see.
3. I'm so lucky to have experiences to talk to foreign-language students about. Two classes in two months? (Seven countries in three years??)

SERIOUSLY, SO GRATEFUL that my life hasn't turned out the way I thought it would.

The Thanksgiving dilemma

One "benefit" of being married to the golf course is that Slice works whenever people want to play golf. Including Thanksgiving Day.

Curse those people!

We've been praying for a big snowstorm so we could join at least one of our families for a Thanksgiving meal; they will all be on the Wasatch Front.

Whoever is praying for good weather must be more righteous than we are...

The snow is not coming.

The Goodness

I'm finally at a computer again! Time for a quick update, nothing fancy, sorry.

Saturday we were in Tokyo again and we made a trip to the temple. It took a whole day but it was SO worth it. Sure enough, we ran into Slice's trainer and two more sisters from his mission. Of course we were asked to be the witness couple ... and I had a headset on, which made everything harder ... but our names were from 1647 and 1442. So cool.

Sunday, we had a disaster of a day trying to get to a Stake Conference, then a Sacrament Meeting, while hauling around our luggage and planning for a 3-hour train ride to Kyoto. Ugh. Still, our meeting was in English, and the primary program made me cry. And Kyoto is SO much warmer than Morioka, we don't even need our jackets! So the day wasn't a total failure.

For the last three days we have been wandering around Kyoto, visiting temples and eating gelato (I introduced Slice to the goodness), and admiring the incredible fall colors here. Oh wow. Tomorrow we plan to go to Hiroshima for the day, come back to our "guest house," and leave for Osaka on Friday.

When we got to this ILIAS place, we discovered that it is a fitness club as well as a hostel (of sorts), complete with indoor driving range. Slice jumped on that. So tonight he is hitting golf balls in the manager's own private practice range ... he already taught a little lesson and got paid for it. I love his marketable skills.

Oh, mom! We found salt & pepper shakers today! We've been looking the ENTIRE time and finally found some down a little cobblestone lane, so happy.

Love and miss you all.

PS I have no picture thumbnails, so I'm just going to pick a few at random and upload them. Please enjoy.

An Open Letter to My Own Golf Pro

Dear Slice,

You know we went night-golfing last Friday, with your parents and several couples from their ward.

You were really excited about it, and I tried not to dampen the spirits. But after you got my hopes up with that whole "reservations" word, I think I had good reason to be upset.

By the end you were proud of me ... I think. I hit the ball, what? 1 out of 3 times I tried? and I had one (or two) genuinely good shots. Still, I don't think I'll be a great golfer anytime soon.

As soon as I knew I would be marrying you, Slice, visions of golf lessons started dancing in my head. Visions of you (professional-husband) teaching me (prodigy-wife); of us traveling far and wide to golf tournaments (where you would play and win lots of money); of our prodigy children growing up with the game; of many happy days spent in beautiful landscapes.

Now I'm not so sure.

After more than a year of marriage, zero husband-wife golf lessons, and more hours spent at the Course than I care to count, I made a decision. I don't really want to learn how to golf anymore.

Why, you ask?

Well, I say: I've seen too much of the BAD side of golf.

I've seen too much disrespect, harassment, profanity, blatant dishonesty, downright laziness and destruction; too many drunk, vulgar men, and too many spoiled brats with no regard for rules. NOT ENOUGH ACCOUNTABILITY.

I've seen too much of the game itself - the stress, frustration, and incredible amounts of pressure you subject yourself to, not to mention the all-pervasive gambling involved - and I guess I haven't seen enough benefits.

Slice, I know you love this game. I know you love it almost as much (maybe more, actually) than you love me.

You love the pressure of the competition, the preciseness and technicality of the swing, the exhilaration of chip shots hit out of nowhere. (You had a lot of those last time.) You love the grass and the trees and the water, the stillness of morning and the wind in afternoon.

You love teaching young kids the fundamentals, love getting their little notes and comments afterwards.

And because of that, I try. I try to learn the rules, the rhythm, the etiquette of the game. I try to understand when you come home hours later than you said you would. (!)

Most of all, I try to be there for you. I never know what to say, or do, when you've had a bad round or when yet another person has walked all over you, just like people do, all the time. I never know what club you should use next, or how fast the greens roll, or if that par-3 will actually play like a par-4. All I can do is be there for you, anytime, anywhere.

And for now, I hope that's enough.

Because I'm kind of sick of the golf course right now. Maybe we can try again next year?

I didn't even have to wait that long

Ang started her new blog already! We will now be able to track her across the country (and the world....). I'm so happy.

Go HERE.


P.S. Thank you all for the birthday wishes. It was a lovely birthday. But I have yet to "enjoy" Slice's "gift" to me, which is a "date" of NIGHT GOLFING. Tonight. With another ward's Elder's Quorum.

Er, Fig? What do I do? I'm not really looking forward to the humiliation.

Some things I've been wanting to tell you

1. I live in a house with 5-6 adult men. Did you know that? I said 5-6 because I don't know exactly how many; it seems to fluctuate. I do think it makes Slice a little nervous though.

2. I quit a job for the first time last week. (The library one.) Sent a letter of resignation even. But they really wanted me to stay ... So now I will (hopefully) be doing, in half the time, what I used to be doing in full-the-time at both jobs. Basically, I'm a sucker.

Tangent here: It's like college all over again. My coworkers used to laugh at me while I registered for the next semester's classes. "Oooh! The Legend of King Arthur! And History on Film! And History of American Christianity! American Women's History! Joseph Smith lectures! How can I choose between them??? Can't I just take them all?!" And then I would register for 17 credits, despite my job, and try to audit 3 more - until the point in the semester when I realized that I might actually die from brain overload and lack of sleep. The both. End tangent.

3. Slice and I are going to Japan. Japan. And for three and a half weeks, no less. I found killer flights (Travelzoo of course), called Slice and said WE ARE GOING. So we are.
At first we thought about staying for a few months, but we didn't want to deal with work visas and, um, I don't speak a lick of Japanese, so living there would be a bit more terrifying than going to school in Vienna when I HAD three years of German under my belt and everything planned out for me by BYU.
Anyway - WE ARE SUPER EXCITED! Right now, all we have are flights, which say that we are leaving October 29 and coming back November 23. Beyond that ... planning still needing to be done.

4. Slice didn't want me to tell you we are going to Japan. He thought it would be more fun to just say "we're leaving!" and then start blogging from Japan, but hello, I cannot keep a secret like that. Especially when everyone in my physical personal life already knows. Physical personal life meaning, people I see on a regular basis. Or who check my Facebook page often.

5. Slice is awesome and I love him.

6. I watched him play at the Utah Open last weekend, which was very swanky and sweltry and emulous. (I looked that last word up.) Some pretty famous people were there, including Jazz players that are decent golfers, marketing directors of Siegfried & Jensen (whom Slice played with), etc. etc. I had a good time soaking it all in. Except for the heat, which was just about record-breaking. And humid. Ugh.
Anyway, Slice did all right. Day 1 and 2 were great, Day 3 was the downfall. I think it was because I wasn't there the first half of that last round. I am practically his good-luck charm.

7. I am reading Jane Eyre, for you Tay, as of last Saturday. Started it at the tournament. Love it already.

8. How awesome is my mom? She wrote a blog post today on the family blog, her very first, and already it's the best one there. I love that lady.

9. I am 22 today. It feels old.

Roosevelt Open

Once a year I lose my husband for several days (and nights), and I get lonely and frustrated and I start having bitter feelings toward the golf course, golf culture, everyone who golfs ... sometimes even the game itself.

This is what Slice gets for marrying an ignorant NON-golfer who really wants his time.

So I decided that in the future, I will spare myself the agony of widowhood and take a trip every second-week-of August. That way I won't be bitter, Slice won't feel guilty, and I will get to see my family members that I miss. Win-win-win.
(Heather, next August? Since I never came this summer?)

That didn't happen this year, what with UBIC, Family Reunion preparations, etc. But I watched some of the tournament, and that was fun because I got to ride in a cart with my sister-in-law. And take pictures. Since she was there, I didn't feel as out-of-place as I usually do.

Tag-a-long (not the cookies)

This is the point at which I realize I'm not a real blogger anymore. Occasional up-dater? Maybe. Photoblogger? Probably. Regular reader of 60+ blogs? Yes. But I-must-write-for-my-own-sanity blogger? Definitely not. Not these days, anyway. The words are just not swirling around my brain like they used to.
(Let's hope they come back sometime.)

So. This last weekend I was fortunate enough to accompany my husband on a 2-day getaway otherwise known as a Golf Tournament. The 2009 Utah Section Assistants Championship, to be exact. It was a 36-hole, 2-course event in Heber Valley, and I got to watch the whole thing! At least it was more fun than I thought it would be.... Slice totally made that shot, by the way. It was sweet.

The Homestead was the first course, and the staff let me take an extra cart. Good thing! There was NO WAY I was walking the whole way to watch. It's the most spread-out golf course I've ever seen.

After the first round, we ate and Slice competed in the Putting contest. Another guy tied his top score, so they had a Sudden Death tie-breaker, which he almost won. But the other guy got the $100. Ü

After THAT we checked in and walked around the Homestead and then I totally crashed.
(And I wasn't even the one playing! I swear that boy doesn't need sleep. I don't know how he does it.)Here we are the next morning, the Non-sleeper and the Hunchback of Heber Valley. I look kind of sick, don't you think? Especially compared to my hunk husband. Oh well.

Round 2 was at Soldier Hollow, the place where I witnessed an Olympic Event 7 years ago, (eek) and also where I have been cross-country skiing and tubing before. Loved both.

Ready for another round.

Slice played better that time, for mostly unknown reasons. Personally, I think these birds were good luck:
(He he.)
In the end, Slice was in the middle of the pack of about 50 Assistant Professionals from around the state. I think that's pretty fantastic, considering he's only played golf for about 7 years ..... and some of the guys he played against have been Assistants for 13. I'm pretty sure he was the youngest Pro there.

The future is looking good.

(Except we left our pillows at the Homestead. Darn it all.)

How I celebrated our first Anniversary

Saturday marked a YEAR since we walked out of the temple, bright-eyed and ecstatic.

And what better way to celebrate than to watch a dear friend be sealed in the same temple on the same day? (The best part is - she picked the date for us in the first place.) None, you say. Well ... the problem was, Slice wasn't able to make it.

He was stuck manning one of the biggest golf tournaments of the year.

SO - I went by myself. Yes I did. I drove out to Salt Lake, watched Shawna get hitched, ate and visited at her luncheon, and drove home. It was totally worth it.

While I sat in the sealing room and waited and watched, I remembered all those late-night conversations we had about our future families. Shawna's a true kindred spirit. We talked about future husbands and family values; beautiful relationships and how being poor is the best thing ever. We sat on our beds and strummed guitars, singing to boys who didn't know what they wanted.

Most of all, we talked about being happy. I love that girl. And I'm so happy to see her so happy.

I'm also glad to be a year into this adventure!

After the luncheon I drove home, despite flash flood warnings for Salt Lake and surrounding counties. As soon as I hit Parley's Canyon I knew why.

It was the most terrifying ride of my life.

We've been needing new tires for months now, planning to buy them at the end of summer. Of course, Utah summers are not usually like LIVING IN A RAINFOREST.

I drove through this storm, the likes of which I have never seen. The roads were rivers - every so often I'd hit a lake, and the tires would search for traction and the car would jerk out of my control. I kept a white-knuckle grip on the wheel as I crept up the mountain, praying that I would make it home alive. I was hydroplaning everywhere.

I thought Parley's was bad, but when I hit Heber the downpour got even worse. My wipers were on full-speed, and I still couldn't see through the windshield. This was all I could see:

(I took a risk by taking one hand off the wheel for pictures, but I knew no one would believe me otherwise. Wipers full-speed!)

From Heber I called my Dad in near-hysteria, hoping he would tell me that the road would get better. I was ready to pull off and spend the night alone in a hotel room, I was so scared. But he seemed to think I would make it all right. So I kept driving - with the stipulation that if he didn't hear from me within an hour, he should send a search party out for me.

Obviously I made it.

Good thing, too, because when I (finally!) got home there were six long-stemmed roses on my pillow that needed to be put in water. I also had to hide this:

under my husband's pillow before he got home. But I did have several hours to do that.

Aren't most young couples supposed to have lots of time but no money?

Looks like we hit middle-age early.

And in case you're wondering...new tires tomorrow!

back-dating to make myself look better...

At the beginning of the summer, Slice held a week-long Junior Golf Clinic at the golf course. He ended up with about 80 kids between the ages of 5 and 12. CRAZY!
Saturday they split up into groups and played a few holes, and I got to help for a little bit. The kids had a great time, and Slice was (really) great with them. He's had several parents ask him when the next clinic will be.