Marry A Nerd

When I was 18 and living with my brother he shared three points of advice for my life. He prefaced his comments with the critical information that they were the central pieces of advice he had for his own 5 daughters. The three points were as follows:

1. Save your money.
2. Get an education.
3. Marry a nerd.

If you have the same reaction I did, then number three sounds a little strange. In truth, I did marry a nerd. Not because my brother advised me to, but because the most phenomenal man I ever met happened to also be a nerd. Now that I'm a seasoned married woman, I can see my brother's wisdom in that third tidbit. Today it became very clear.

E has been asking a lot of questions lately about where everything comes from: trees, stoplights, windows, carpet, cupboards, workers, grass, stars, etc. We've been trying to explain how Heavenly Father makes everything we have. With some things, stoplights for example, this requires elucidation. Today E was very curious about glass. T explained how glass is made by heating sand and a few other secondary ingredients. E didn't quite get it. T tried explaining it a few different ways and E still couldn't grasp the concept. Suddenly T said, "I know E! We'll make some pretend glass right now so you can see and understand it a little better."

Here's what happened:

T filled a small pan with sugar and let E touch it to see if it reminded him of sand.

Medium heat for 1 min.

Medium heat for 4 min.

Pouring our glass on the Silpat.

Watching a video about real glass factories while we wait for our glass to cool.

Passing the transparency test.

Passing the crucial lickability test.

Marry a nerd. Yes, today one of the reasons became very clear.

Dear E

Dear E,

This afternoon when you woke up from your nap and bounced into our bedroom you were so full of cheer and good humor that Dad and I couldn't help but stop all we were doing and soak you in. After our free afternoon comedy show you looked at us eagerly, your little eyes waiting for feedback: laughter, a returned pun, applause. I looked at you and said, "E, do you know how much we love you?" and you coyly replied, "No... how much?!" Dad and I then stretched our arms out as wide as we could and you erupted in laughter. You countered by showing us how much you loved us and I suddenly realized that your little arms are stretching further and further each day. You're growing up all too fast. And the whole experience really made me stop and think about whether or not all I do shows you all I love about adorable three and a half year old you.

Just last week Dad and I were talking about how awesome you are. Dad said, "Isn't it a good sign that hanging out with our kid is so enjoyable?" Then we both spun into a long conversation detailing the amazing things you do. I don't ever want to forget them and when you grow up I want you to be able to peek at what you were like and know how terrific you've always been.

In absolutely no order, here are some of Dad and my favorite things about you:

• Your vocabulary - You regularly, and appropriately, use the following words: hilarious, interesting, consequence, absolutely, polite, patient, delicious, incredible, delightful. Conversation with you is never dull.
• You're in a doughnut making phase right now. At least, you call them doughnuts. And to be more precise I should refer to them as "doughnuts". You ceaselessly ask if you can make "doughnuts" which has made them a great reward for you. The actual "doughnut" making process involves you getting a mixing bowl, dumping in some whole wheat flour, adding whatever measuring cup of water you deem necessary, and proceeding to add all the herbs and spices I'll allow. You carefully pull down each bottle from the cupboard, open it, sniff it, ask me what it's called, and then if you find it palate pleasing, it's added to the "doughnuts". When you've added enough spices we cook them in a frying pan and somehow you always eat at least one entire "doughnut". Dad and I always eat one bite and then we try to sneakily discard our remaining "doughnut". You made some for us at lunchtime today that included Christmas sprinkles, dill, and curry. They were delightful.
• You inherited some of my quirks. Dad laughs and I love how you randomly line up your toys and books. Dad may never quite get it, but I understand. Oh, how I understand.

• You have a terrific sense of humor and love to make us laugh. And let's be honest, it's not hard to laugh with you because you're non-stop hilarity. Even when you're upset, you're funny. On Sunday you were frustrated that I wouldn't let you put our special occasion alphabet stickers all over your cardboard Chitty Chitty Bang Bang car. You sulked off to your bedroom and loudly exclaimed, "I don't love you anymore Chitty Chitty Bang Bang!" A perfect example of how even when you're mad, you're funny.

We went to the zoo and were feeding sisters in the car before we went in. You were bored, but kept trying to find things to do. When sisters were done and I looked behind me you weren't anywhere. Then I called you and you popped up from Allie's car seat wearing her headband!

We stocked up on cereal and had the boxes waiting outside the pantry for us to put them away. You stacked them up, retrieved your dress-up alien eyes and called Dad and I to the hallway. When we turned the corner you yelled, "Aliens!" and we all burst out laughing.

One night in August you came up to me in the kitchen and said, "Mommy have you seen your car lately?" I said, "No, I haven't gone anywhere. Why?" You shrugged your shoulders, muttered a little "huh", and moseyed off to play. The next morning I went in the garage and found you'd lined safety cones along both sides of the van. I burst out laughing. It was sneaky, hilarious, and I couldn't believe you had resisted the urge to tell me what you'd done right then or urge me to go to the garage straightway.

• You're very sensitive to the emotions of people around you. You love making everyone smile, hugging a child that's hurt or upset, singing to sisters when they cry, and everything in between. It makes you a great friend and a very likable kid.
• You're very comfortable with yourself. You think it's hilarious to strut around the house naked while declaring, "NAKED E!" You've recently started going potty standing up and you've been so self-assured about the whole process. You even wipe the seat.
• I love that I turned you into a cuddler. Sadly, you weren't terribly snuggly as a baby, but I've always wanted you to be, so I told Dad that I had a plan to snuggle you a little each morning while you were groggily starting your day. It worked! You're a fabulous cuddler now and let us know some nights that you simply can't fall asleep without "some family to snuggle."

• Daddy and I both agree that you are the most phenomenal big brother. You got so much one-on-one time with us before A and M were born that I was a little worried about how you would handle the transition when it came time to share us with someone else. Then someone else ended up being two little sisters and I was nervous. I tried to prep you a bit, but I think the plain truth of it is that Heavenly Father sent you to us because there isn't any other boy who could be the loving big brother you are to A and M. You've loved them from the minute they arrived and continue to be all too anxious to help. Lately, you tell us that you can't wait to be "big like Mommy and Daddy so then I can lay sisters down in their cribs."

You helping Daddy feed sisters cereal for one of the first times.

Over the summer we were going on a nighttime family walk and you were bummed that you couldn't carry A or M in a front carrier. Then you ran to your room, brought out your baby doll and said with great enthusiasm, "Look! I can bring my baby!" You were elated that we had an extra front carrier in our 72-hour-kit and we figured out a way to get it tightened around you and holding your baby semi-securely inside. The neighbors all got a good chuckle and told you how darling your baby was. You proudly answered all their questions about your baby.

• You're developing your own unique interests. Right now you love photography. You work hard to earn camera time and I'm often awed by what I find when I empty the memory card.

This one makes me laugh because it's so indicative of our life. Wet wipes.

Really?!?! Look how artistically you laid out your boots for this picture. I have a good mind to crop, color and print this picture for your room so you can be proud of your handiwork.

It would be impossible for us to list all the wonderful things about you, but everyday we find ourselves more in love with you and we hope our actions and outstretched arms show you that.

Love,

Mom and Dad

Everyday Cuteness

About three times a week E pays me the ultimate compliment; he asks if he can marry me. His request is usually accompanied by such darling statements as:

• "Cause I love you, Mommy."
• "First, I'll have to go on my mission."
• My personal favorite: "Because I wanna be just like Daddy."

I can think of nothing better in life than having E be just like Daddy. He tries to do "big" things just like Daddy all the time and last week when T laid down his glasses, E sneakily got down from the lunch table, procured the glasses and placed them on his darling, little face. I looked over as he climbed back on his chair and burst out laughing. Here's what I found:

Funny in and of itself, but even funnier when you compare it to T's boyhood picture.

The resemblance is striking.

Later that day, E was doing the laundry. No, I'm not a taskmaster, but he earns a quarter for switching wash from the washer to the dryer, putting a dryer sheet in, starting the dryer, and collecting more clothes for the wash. It was his own idea and he's taken to its execution like a true first child. It's blissful and helps us a lot. It's one of the best quarters I've ever spent. That day, when E unloaded the dry clothes he promptly put T's clothes on and pushed the other clean clothes to their final destinations. When I saw him wearing T's clothes I said, "Well, hello there!" and E replied in his best deep, man voice, "Hi, Mommy. It's just me, Daddy. Doing the laundry." He is the most darling son.

Later in the week I attempted to capture some cute candids of the girls. Now that they roll around all day I've found myself not taking as many pictures because my targets aren't steady. I need to do better at that. We started off pretty well...

M & A

M

A

Then we decided to try for some pictures of the girls sitting up. While they usually sit steadilyfor a few minutes, this time we couldn't get them upright for more than 10 seconds before one of them would flop to the side. We decided to prop them against T's legs and try some more. Then M saw A's headband and simply had to have it. Havoc ensued...

M attacking A

It didn't end well.

Ironically, M is crying and knocked her own headband off in the process of her attempted robbery. A is happy as a clam and unscathed by the incident. E is looking on with his crazy eyes. Yeah, that pretty much sums up our life.

Wild Ride

Ten days ago it snowed here in the greater Sacramento area. Our house didn't see any snowflakes, but we decided we should offer the snow a warm (Get it?) welcome and drove 30 minutes to the snow for a little sledding, snowball throwing, and snow angel making.

We don't own a sled, so we took a Rubbermaid container for E to slide in. When we got to the snowy hills, another kid offered to let E and T use his sled and they happily accepted. Observe:

Twas a wild ride. I love the shocked expression on E's face. I know how he feels. That morning, T went into work and was laid off. Appropriate, huh? Sacramento knew there was a cold front coming, but didn't expect the snow they got: We knew T's company had been struggling, but didn't expect such a sudden lay-off.

It's been a weird experience thus far. I grew up pretty poor and when T and I were dating we talked about our greatest fears. I told him I only had one really big fear: him losing his job. I really need to learn to stop saying things like that. I think Heavenly Father listens especially closely when I say I won't/don't want to do anything.

When T told E what had happened, E had the perfect response. It went a little like this:

T: Do you remember Daddy's Boss-Man? (E has always affectionately called him that.)

E: Yeah!

T: Well, I don't work for that Boss-Man anymore and now I need to work really hard to find another Boss-Man.

E: Wait... Daddy!!!! Mommy can be your Boss-Man. Yeah!!!

That kid's a genius. Anyway, T now spends 8 hours a day finding a job. We're looking everywhere and anywhere, but right now everything is uncertain and somewhat frightening. At the end of every year, T and I have always projected where we'll be in life at Christmastime the coming year. I realized this year has been the most unexpected ever: twins, the UT house that took forever to sell, the financially declining situation at T's work, T laid off.

That said, we're blessed in abundance with the things money can't buy: beautiful, healthy children, a wonderful marriage, a happy home, the restored gospel. We appreciate your care and concern for our family and would love your faith and prayers in our behalf. And if you happen to be in line at the grocery store and the person behind you says that they really need to hire a chemical engineer, send them our way. :o)

My Brother's Got Skills

Last night my big brother called me because he had the most incredible experience at a concert. He and his family went to a charity concert with Jon Schmidt, an incredibly talented pianist. Towards the end of the program Jon asked for a member of the audience that knew the blues scale in C, had never met him, and would come play some improv with him.

My niece volunteered her dad and before he really knew what was happening, my brother was on stage. Lucky me, his nephew was there and caught the whole thing on camera.

Is he amazing or what? Seriously. I can't quit watching this and thinking about how cool and talented my big brother is. Even if I were remotely near the level of piano skill that he is, I'd crack under that kind of pressure. However, I do like to think I had a part in the success of that evening. After all, I did help him pick out those shoes.