eventful

Today was my second day at the pool. The swim team wasn't there...but the football team was.

At least that is my assumption based on a number of observations.

First, their size. Enough said.

Second, their apparel. None of them were wearing swim shorts (thankfully), but the shorts they were wearing obviously weren't that great for swimming because they were constantly making "adjustments"...if you catch my drift. And then, they were wearing du-rags on their heads, rather than swim caps. How is that helpful?

Third, their actions. I was sharing the lane closest to the locker room entrances with a sweet Asian gal when all of a sudden there were six large men cannon-balling in over our heads. Thankfully the couple in the lane next to us were leaving at the same moment, so we moved over. But these guys all started jumping and splashing around until the ring leader called them into a huddle. I'm not kidding. So they huddled up and apparently decided to do a relay race because that was the next main event. They split up into teams and made the life guard say "ready, set, go" then they dove/belly flopped off the racing pedestals and started "swimming" as fast as the could. Keep in mind I'm making these observations while doing my laps, and I happened to be doing one such lap when the tidal waves from their racing started pouring into my lane. I felt like I was swimming in the ocean...minus the salt water and the sharks. At that time one more guy showed up with a girl who was wearing a bikini I'm pretty sure was only useful for getting attention, but definitely not for swimming. He was by far the smallest, and most ripped, but also the most cocky one of the group. He was wearing swim shorts that he rolled up before he jumped in the water with his little girl toy. Well anyway, I was on my last lap when they finished their little racing event and huddled back up again. I was doing the side stroke with my back toward them, and as I passed I totally kicked one of the guys right in the can...really hard. I was horrified! He whipped around ready to defend himself and then started laughing when he saw the expression on my face as I shouted "sorry" and swam as fast as I could to the end of the pool. I exited quickly and was quite relieved to find I had the showers to myself this time!

awkward and a bit embarrassing

Last night night I went to the swimming pool, by myself, for the first time. I got there about 9 pm and all the lanes were full...with the swim team. Serious swimmers. So I scooted down to the far lane and asked the two swimmers there if I could share the lane with them. They were nice and said sure and then asked me a question in swimmers code. The blank stare on my face gave away that I didn't have the faintest idea what they were talking about. So they tried again, in english, "Do you want to take one half of the lane and we'll take the other?" Oh, sure...but I informed them that I needed the lane closest to the wall because I am learning how to swim and still have a tendency to run into things. We all laughed. Me, because I was serious, and they, because they thought I was kidding. Well, my assigned workout for the night was 4x50 meters. I had to ask my lovely lane neighbors what a "50" was. Down and back was 50 meters. So I swam my first one and made it most of the way back before I was breathing underwater and coughing when I was supposed to be breathing. The second 50 was not much better. But by the third and fourth I made it all the way without getting any water up my nose! So with my resting in between laps, it took me a half an hour to do 200 meters. The triathlon is 500 meters. I've got a bit of work to do!



After I finished swimming I went into ye old community shower. Not being a die hard, I remained "suited". As I was washing my hair another lady (Whom I shall refer to as Mrs. Poatohead) came in and loudly exclaimed, "Whew! I'm getting to old for that!" and assumed the shower directly behind me. I had finished washing my hair and was reaching for my conditioner, but it shot out of my hand and across the shower landing at the foot of Mrs. Potatohead. I yelled, "WOAH!" (probably much louder than was necessary since my ears were waterlogged) as I turned around to pick up my conditioner. Just a millisecond too late I realized that Mrs. Potatohead was no longer "suited" and I had just yelled "WOAH!" at her naked body, but actually at my flying bottle of conditioner. It's kind of hard to crack a joke or talk yourself out of a situation like that when you are afraid to turn back around, let alone make eye contact. So I snagged my conditioner, mumbled a weak, "Heh, heh, guess that got away from me..." and then bolted. Hopefully she's not a regular. That would be a painfully awkward reunion.

Tequila

So, my recent observations have been inspired by a radio show I was listening to in the car the other day. The radio personelle were discussing "Dog Talk". They each insisted and gave examples of their dog's "voice" and what their dog says. Then of course they opened it up to the public and people were calling in saying their dog said, "tequila" and a variety of other random comments. So then I started wondering...is this "dog voice" similar to a toddler's voice to untrained ears? It seems the mother of a toddler just learning to talk can understand their googly guck while no one else in the room has the faintest idea what they are talking about. So I started paying closer attention to exactly what my kids were saying. True, they are beyond "toddler" years and for the most part have a firm grasp on the english language, but I observed several hillarious little comments.

I heard Naomi singing, "It's raining it's BORING the old man is snoring..."
and, "Mary Mary quite contrary how does your garden grow? With silver bells and TACO SHELLS and pretty maids all in a row."

Then when I caught Emilia walking around with a thermometer in her hear, she reassured me, "I'm just checking if my ears are not WACKY." (waxy)

Emilia was reciting a little rhyme that says, "Brown sugar, applesauce, spices, flour...." and instead she was saying, "Brown sugar, applesauce, five-six, flour."

She was also singing, "Put my finger sticks together for more, more, more" rather than finger tips.

So I suppose, after much thought, I will accept that people think their dogs can say "tequilla".

I must be CRAZY

So, I let my friends peer pressure me into doing a mini-triathlon with them. This should be interesting. My three main arguments for NOT doing it was
1. I don't run unless i'm chasing a child running towards a busy street, running from a dog or trying to catch the ice cream truck
2. I don't own a swimming suit (never mind the fact that I can't swim)
3. I don't own a bicycle

I thought these were pretty sound excuses for not voluntarily signing up for this torture. On the contrary, I have been wanted to get my body into a different shape than it is in. And now that there is a social aspect to this, it seems mildly appealing.

So my first step was to email my brother who does triathlons, and cycles. I asked him if it were even a possiblity with only eight weeks to train. He reassured me that if my goal was simply to finish the mini-tri, then yes it was possible. So there you have it. My goal (and in my mind, it's a lofty one) is to finish without having to be administered mouth to mouth on the side of the pool, to be scraped off the pavement, or to be life-flighted at the end of the day. Bring it on.

heidi heidi heidi hi

A couple pictures of the dinner aftermath. Love those prunes.

Attention Please

Church today was a bit different than normal. It was stake conference so there were tons of people in the building. We just avoided the chapel and went straight to an overflow room that was also full of people. The meeting was well under way when Emilia grabbed a program and marched to the front of the room. Standing tall with the program out in front of her, she "read" clearly to everyone, "John Jacob Heemer Heimer Smit, tra la la la la la." Then she closed the program and sat down. Now I know this was one of those moments as a parent that I wasn't supposed to laugh, but really...could you blame my pathetically concealed hysterical outburst?

Aaaaannnddd we're off...

Heidi is on the move. Here is a little video clip of her lunge/crawl.

Note to self...

I have to hide my camera if I ever dare take a nap. If I don't hide it, when I wake up I will find my entire memory card full of pictures of my dirty laundry, Naomi's bed sheets, Prince Phillip on the TV, toys on the floor, the lights, and occasionally they do take pictures of each other's hair, or eyes so close up I'm sure they see permanent spots. Life through the eyes of a child...sigh.

Red Robin Hood

Dinner with Uncle Norm

Leah chowing

Naomi shoveling

Yaya really excited about her cherry

Just thought I would post a few photos of the girls eating their ice cream sunday's yesterday. They wouldn't put their spoons down to take a picture, so you get action shots.

This is at Red Robin. After we were done eating and were getting ready to leave, Emilia started crying. When I asked her what was wrong she said, "I wanted to go to Robin Hood."

Powder Puff

We went out to eat tonight. The girls did well, and ate well, including every drop of an ice cream sunday each. Their sugar consumption was greatly interfering with our bedtime routine. After stubborn refusals to brush teeth, the repeated "I need a drink", "I need to go to the bathroom" cycle, bouncing on the beds when they were supposed to be relaxing we finally got prayers said and lights off.

Did it stop there? Oh no. Emilia was coming out every four seconds to report that Naomi was breathing too loudly, that she needed help with her blanket, that she needed another drink, that she needed a hug, that she needed a kiss... My responses were getting more clipped and less sympathetic each time her cute little face emerged from the room. (It's really hard to get mad at that kid, she's so cute.)

Then Naomi picked up where Yaya left off with complaints of Emilia making monster sounds, and Emilia telling her there were monsters in the walls, and can I watch you work on your art project... So finally I had to go in and deliver the ultimate threat. "If you come out of your bedroom again you will not be going to your friend's house tomorrow." They both got in bed and promptly calmed down. I walked out of the room but heard Yaya getting out of her bed. So I turned around just in time to see Naomi leap out of her bed and tackle Emilia to the ground, sit on top of her, and warn her, "If you go out there we can't go to our friend's house tomorrow!" Poor Yaya, stood up a bit shaken and started wimpering, "That was scary!" and then crawled back into bed. It's been quiet ever since.