Saturday, February 23, 2008

Super Fighter

"Aren't we going to make a movie tonight Dad?" asked Dallin.
"No, it's too late, and you need to get in bed" I replied. But then came the prodding from Sarah, "just make a quick one, he's been asking all day." Fortunately for me, Dallin didn't need any stunt training. All of this came very natural as he has been practicing for the part of "Super Fighter" for at least the past couple of years. In fact, he has been living as a Super Fighter for some time now. It was only a matter of time before he would hit the big screen. That time has come...
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Video Test

This is a test. This is only a test. I wanted to see how the video maker works on my computer so I quickly threw this together in quite a random way. Hopefully future video's will be forthcoming.
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Thursday, February 21, 2008

Dinner with the Parkers

We all got a chance to sit down together tonight. Jared got caught up in rain traffic (the city would shudder and die if snow ever fell on the roads here) and was late, missing the earliest discussions.
I did my usual dance of the worker bee, placing dishes of food down then returning to push them to the heavily overloaded side of the table opposite Lindsey's reaching arms. As the kids chattered, I heard Lindsey call her entree a "fishy," prompting a discussion over whether that was appropriate. Finally, Dallin set down the proper protocol of addressing our dinner.
“We can call it a fishy when it’s in the water, but when it’s for dinner, we should just call it fish.”
But by then Lindsey, half done with her fishy, wasn’t aware they were still talking about it.
I talked her into putting down her fork to fold her arms and Afton began a prayer which ended up as a description of Grandma and Grandpa’s motor home.
“And it has TVs.”
“And a kitchen. . .”
Dallin began objecting to the prayer too before I interrupted, desperate to preserve Afton’s recent willingness to pray on her own, and let him know that we can pray about anything we’d like to.
Once Jared arrived, the kids ran around in a burst of “Daddy’s home” energy, then everyone was wrangled back to the table, and we continued our meal with the usual game of “guess what I’m thinking of.”
The game has become quite predictable by now. It can be categorized with Dallin picking a particular Transformer toy or fast moving vehicle, Afton giving a random clue then listening to all of our guesses until one of them sounds neat enough to say “yes” to, and Lindsey just saying no to all of our guesses until we can finally get a nod out of her, and we all burst into cheers.
Tonight’s meal was a success. My standards aren't high: there were no major eating battles and everyone ate at least two of the major food groups. The process of cleaning up our plates was assisted by Lindsey’s trip around the table, dimpled 1 yr old hand outstretched, asking everyone for more broccoli from their dish. Afton was anxious to share, showing me as she offered her tiniest trees for the baby giant to gobble.
I wonder how different dinner will be five years from now.
Posted by Sarah

Sunday, February 17, 2008

Baby Talk


Dallin informed me of something the other day.
"Mom, I'm going to be talking like a baby to our new brother when he comes, because Brad does it to his new baby sister and she really likes it."
I think it's a great idea.
Dallin may not remember this himself, since Lindsey was born almost a full 2 years ago, and the infant years of both he and Afton have long since sludged down his memory drain, but he was born to one of the worst baby talkers known to mankind.
I am a self-confessed, hopeless, helpless, and incurable baby talker.
I had no intentions of being this way. I had always heard, like every mother does, that you should talk in regular tones and word structures to babies so that they can learn to speak correctly. Having fully grasped on to this concept, I was fully planning on correctly and responsibly doing just that.
But when my first-born off-spring was placed into my hands at the hospital, all my best laid plans vaporized. Words emerged dripped with honey, sugar, and high fructose corn syrup. Now, 3.8 children later, and much to the dismay of anyone who has witnessed my previous displays of language distortions and pitch abnormalities, I have no good intentions for this upcoming child whatsoever. His speech may be permantly altered. And so be it.
Dallin, Afton, Lindsey and I will be goo-gaaing at him with all our full mights.
How do you feel about baby-talking? Please comment and share.

Posted by Sarah

Thursday, February 14, 2008

The Difference Between Diamonds and Fools Gold

Back in my space-toothed, Ramona Quimbly, 4th grade days, my mind became saturated with gold as Mrs. Hansen described the history-altering tale of Sutter's Mill and the California Gold Rush. That was it? Some guy found a few nuggets of gold and thus sparked one of the largest human migrations in human history? I could totally do that. I then knew I would be discovering gold during the next recess and changing history forever by sparking a 20th century stampede of modern 49ers to the Lindon Elementary schoolgrounds.
Needless to say, all these years later I have yet to unearth anything but a few planted nuggets of fools gold while panning the stream at the Museum of History. Jared…….on the other hand, HAS fulfilled his childish fancy of stumbling upon a modern treasure.
“I always thought I would find a diamond.” Jared said to me last night. “What?” I replied, “and I used to scour the elementary school ground for gold but, of course, I didn’t really FIND it.”
And that is how Jared and I prove to be on different ends of the same stick. I came to my senses by 6th grade, realized the infantile patterns of my imaginings, and turned my hopes into something to look back and laugh at.

Jared, in the meantime, kept picking up pieces of broken glass every once in a few years. Not in an obsessed metal-detector on the beach type of way, more as a semi-conscious reaction of his younger years. Over time, he learned to recognize the sharp and squared shape of cut glass. So when Jared’s ever observant radar casually detected a lone glass-like object on campus Monday night, he began a semi-conscious analyzation of it. Why is it here in a crack of a sidewalk that is always swept clean? I don’t see any sharp edges, or other pieces of glass nearby? And without another thought, he stooped and scooped it lightly into his hand.
The guy at Kay’s Jeweler was ready to give him at least $3000 in store credit for it immediately despite the chipped edge. It has an impressive score in the four Cs department, and if it wasn’t chipped would likely fetch a quick $8,000 retail.
Since this turn of events, I have been seriously reviewing myself. Not only does my lack of observational skills worry me (I can be half-way through a shopping trip and suddenly discover Lindsey's tomato sauce handprint half-way down my shirt), but also my lack of childlike optimism. Have I given up on all my big ridiculous dreams? What about all my little ridiculous dreams? If Jared can find a diamond, maybe I COULD discover an unknown continent and win the national jump roping championships.
Please comment and share your deepest, funniest, most secret childhood dreams. Are you still giving them a go?

PS. If you know of anyone who lost a diamond on USC campus, call and let us know the shape and carat count, and we’ll reluctantly relinquish it to the owner.

Posted by Sarah

Sunday, February 3, 2008

Our Prophet Dear

I'd like to add my thanks to our dear prophet, President Hinckley, for his sacrifice and service. In a local Utah news interview Pres. Hinckley mentioned that it was hard for him to give up his privacy when he became such a public church figure, but that he knew it was impossible to serve the church and the world and keep his privacy, so he decided to look at all the positives and enjoy the people he was surrounded by while loving and serving us all.

When I heard him relate this, it struck me, again, that he gave so much to do what he did. He relinquished the playful, carefree days of retirement and spent every last breath living for US! What a great gift he gave in toiling for each of our souls. And he did it so kindly and happily. He inspires me, even in his death, to think a little less about Sarah, and to approach my life callings with a portion of that same selfless joy of service.

He truly deserves the rest and fruits of his labors that he now recieves with the Lord and with his family, and he will eternally be thanked for his sacrifice.

When I told Dallin of his passing, his response was simple and full of the faith and idealism of a 5 year old, "but he'll live again."
posted by Sarah