Annie and Roo

Welcome to Tantrum Town

2012-02-02T07:16:00.000-08:00

Population: Annie and Roo

The Mayor:

Lost in Translation

2012-01-24T08:01:00.000-08:00

Esmé is almost 19 months old and speaking in full sentences. This is a pretty big accomplishment for someone who still can't put on her own socks; the only problem with her constant and often loud talking is that her sentences consist mostly of just one word: BAH.

Asking a question: Bah bah bah baaaaaaaaaahhh?
Making a statement: Baaaaaah bah bah bah bah bah baaaah baaahhhh.
Demanding something: BAAAH BAAAH BAAAH BAAAH BAAAAAAAAAHHHH! (This one is accompanied by unrelenting pointing at something)

Occasionally, she'll pepper her conversation with a few other favorite words:

"Bah BAAAAH baah bah ee-i-o ee-i-o ee-i-o?!" This means she wants to watch Baby Einstein. Sometimes it also means she wants a drink of water.

"Dadda, mama, Tutu, Papa, Naaaaa, a dog, knee! knee!" This is what I hear over the monitor when she's supposed to be napping.

And probably her second most favorite word: "Cracker? Cracker? Cracker? Cracker? Cracker?" She repeats it continuously, growing in urgency until she's achieved her goal. I say, "Do you want a cracker?"

"YEEAAAH! (Another favorite word)

Yet when I offer her the cracker, she'll shake her head and say, "No no no."

So I ask, "Then what do you want?"

"A baaahhh."

Sometimes I feel like if I hear one more BAH during the day, my head is going to explode! So I hope she learns English soon, because I'm sure our lack of communication is frustrating to both of us sometimes.

She sure is cute, though!

Here she is with "Yo-bah". He's wearing Esmé's white "bahs" on his feet. And they're sitting in her "bah". (By the way, if you think we're grooming Esmé to be a major nerd because she plays with Yoda dolls, you're right. However, she also enjoys putting on pretend makeup and blow-drying her hair, so at least she'll be an attractive nerd.)


Here she is wearing a purple "bah" in her hair.

In my opinion, Esmé is generally a sweet, happy, smart little girl. She actually knows lots of words (though she doesn't use them all in conversation) and is very vocal. She is very social and loves to interact with anyone--whoever happens to sit behind us in church can attest to that. She adjusts pretty well to new situations--she started nursery at church and though she'll cry when we leave, she can tough it out until the end and even tells us that she likes going.

She is extremely determined to get what she wants in life. Like her father. She inherited what I like to call the "Roo-conniving" gene, which allows her to cleverly maneuver her way into getting what she wants. This actually can work to my benefit, because I can easily leverage things she wants to make her obey. And usually she will be agreeable and compliant. Like her mother.

She is so full of energy and life and ~~a little~~ a lot of craziness. She could climb and run and jump all day, as long as she's got a good supply of crackers. I think the pictures below best sum up this aspect of her personality:

We love you, Esmé!!

An Update on Baby ... Boy?

2012-01-19T07:47:00.000-08:00

Here I am with baby, at just about 7 months along:

The baby is doing well. However, there has been some speculation that she is actually a he. Let me explain. On three separate occasions, I have had women (strangers) come up to me and make the following observation:

Strange woman [in foreign accent]: Oh, you are expecting!

Annie: Yep.

Strange woman: So, I see you are having a boy. [This isn't said as a question. They say it as if they can see the man-child himself hanging out in my tummy.]

The first time it happened, I just assumed the lady was crazy. I didn't know what I was having yet, so I just thought she was confused and backed away. But then it happened again! Another lady remarked, just by looking at my tummy, that I must surely be having a boy. By then I knew it was a girl and I told her so. When she asked if I was sure, I reassured her that that's what the latest scientific advances in ultrasound technology told me, so...I thought she was crazy and backed away. The third time, my waitress remarked that I should be excited to be having a boy. What!? I told her the baby was a girl, and again she acted politely incredulous. Apparently, the way that I am carrying the baby has all the hallmarks of it being a boy.

Does my baby bump look especially boyish to you?

So now I'm not sure! Can I trust the technology? Just as a side note, I noticed that the first lady was Hispanic, the second was a Romanian, and the third was an Iranian, so I'm wondering if they all possess some kind of ancient Old-World sorcery that allows them to read the human body even better than an ultrasound machine... (However, I did notice the baby kicking a lot while we watched The Bachelor, so I thought that could be an indication that she is a she...unless they were kicks of dismay, which could mean he is a he!) I don't know what to believe anymore!

In the end, I guess if the baby comes out a boy, I won't be completely surprised now. I'll just tell the nurses that a Romanian already told me so.

Our Favorite Things

2012-01-12T08:12:00.000-08:00

First, if you're tired of seeing pictures of Christmas, read no further.

If you've chosen to continue, let me show you some of our favorite Christmastime things:

1. Not participating in the family nativity on Christmas Eve.

Esmé was slated to play an angel abiding over Christ's birth. She chose instead to play the angel who stays behind in heaven to hold down the fort while everyone else goes abiding.

2. Stairs. We don't have stairs at our house, but all our grandpa's and grandma's do. Anytime Esmé sees stairs, she'll enlist the closest person around to help her walk up and down them. All day long. Grandpa was usually a key player in this activity.


3. Grandpas and Grandmas, Tutus and Papa Tutus

4. Going to church on Christmas. (And going home after only one meeting so we can eat candy and open presents.)

5. So many toys!

6. Idaho! Where Tutu and Papa Tutu have a brand new Star Wars room that we got to decorate and sleep in.

Each action figure scene was carefully and lovingly crafted by Roo.

7. Celebrating New Year's at 6:45 pm. That goes for me and Roo, too...

8. More presents!

9. Pies.

10. Seeing so many fun aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents! (And our long-lost pets, Lando, Leia, and Chase, who, by the way, are thriving in the clear mountain air.)

(Some pictures courtesy of Nat. Thanks, Nat.)

Canyon Drive

2011-12-23T09:29:00.000-08:00

Four things you'll find in Utah that you probably won't find in Houston:

1. In N' Out Burger
2. An In N' Out Burger full of only white people
3. An In N' Out Burger full of only Mormon white people.
4. Snow

Since coming to Utah, we've seen our fair share of In N Out Burgers, white people, and Mormons; however, we were feeling sort of cheated in the snow department, so we took a drive up the canyon to find some.

The snow was still scarce, but the drive was lovely, composed almost completely of things you'd never see in Houston. Mountains, hills, frost, and Esmé in a beanie.

Christmas Vacation at Grandma and Grandpa's

2011-12-19T09:26:00.001-08:00

Old Town Spring

2011-12-13T07:00:00.000-08:00

Last Saturday, we decided to check out Old Town Spring, a former railroad town that's been converted into a cute cluster of boutiques and shops. The shops were all decked out in lights and garlands for the holidays, and the people were out in droves. There was live music, live animals, and lots of antique browsing. The best part of the day was when Esmé got a red balloon and a candy cane, and I got to eat her candy cane.

Almost 6 Months

2011-12-13T06:54:00.000-08:00

Taking a picture of yourself is harder than you'd think...but since I'm not often in pictures we take, I wanted to document that I am actually pregnant.

Baby News

2011-12-03T21:29:00.001-08:00

Annie and Roo: Esmé, how do you feel about getting a little sister soon?

Esmé:

A Rooism

2011-11-21T07:42:00.001-08:00

Last night, Roo was talking about Han Solo (not an uncommon topic of discussion for him) and how Han would act in a certain situation.

Annie (rolling my eyes in scorn): Ugh, Han Solo is such a typical man.

Roo: If Han Solo were a typical man, there would be about a billion more babies on the earth...

Roo/Han: 1 vs. Annie: 0

My Heart

2011-11-18T09:09:00.001-08:00

Someone named Elizabeth Stone said becoming a mother means deciding to have your heart go walking around outside your body.

Here is my little heart, full to bursting with love:

An Important Acquisition

2011-11-10T08:06:00.000-08:00

So, it turns out our new house wasn't the only important acquisition we made at the end of July this year.

This is the other one (or should I say, he or she is the other one):

Surprised? Yeah, so was I...

Other words to describe my feelings: thrilled, nervous, awestruck, amazed, concerned, overjoyed, overwhelmed, and hungry.

On December 1st we'll find out the gender, and sometime around April 12th we'll meet him or her in person!

Fun with Grandma and Grandpa

2011-11-09T17:52:00.000-08:00

We were so lucky to have a whole week with Grandma and Grandpa! Not only did they buy us toys, food, and do all sorts of housework for us, but they gave us a week of fun* and lots of love!

*The mosquito-infested cafe may not have been "fun", but your company was. And babysitting for five hours so we could wait at the DMV may not have been too fun either, but it sure was helpful!

We love you and can't wait to see you at Christmas!!

Judge Me by My Costume, Do You?

2011-11-01T13:39:00.000-07:00

This year for Halloween, Esmé was girl-Yoda. (Note the pink bow.) And even though I was concerned about the boyishness of her costume, she loved it! And I had to admit, she was way cuter even than real Yoda! Esmé loved walking through the neighborhood trick-or-treating, answering the door when kids came around to our house, and staying up late so Roo could introduce her to Yoda on the TV.

I told her next year she could be a fairy princess if she wants, but based on how happy she was last night in her Yoda hat (and how she asked for it today after her nap), I'm afraid she may have turned from the princess path...

A Tour of the Manor

2011-10-14T12:34:00.000-07:00

Welcome

Here is the dining room.

And the kitchen...

This is the master suite. (You can kind of tell that before taking this picture I took everything off the floor and just threw it in the closet...)

Guest room. As you can see, this room mainly acts as a storage area for books, lamps, Joseph Smith statues, plastic Easter eggs, and occasionally Esmé (when she doesn't want to nap in her own room.)

Bathroom 2. That's right, we have two bathrooms.

Esmé's domain.

The family room...

The backyard. The concrete slab is actually our driveway since the garage is in the back of the house. You drive around back then make a six point turn to get the car into the garage. It takes great skill. One time I backed into the fence on accident.

Here's another view of the backyard. The bird bath came with the house. I think it is stellar. Roo does not share this opinion. Right now, the yard is 70% weeds, 20% grass, and 10% unidentifiable organic material. As they say in Texas, we're fixin' to get it all cleaned up and the grass re-growed whenever we can.

So, while the whole place is still a work in progress, and will be for a long time, we love being here. We love working in our yard and making as much noise as we want at night, we love walking through our neighborhood, and we love knowing that this place is ours (or will be after thirty years of mortgage payments...)

15 Months

2011-09-27T12:02:00.000-07:00

Just in case you were keeping track, Esmé can now say the following words:Ball, a dog, cracker, banana, mama, dada

Her most prominent features are her her beautiful blue eyes, her non-tameable hair, her protruding tummy, and a random bunch of teeth.

She responds eagerly when asked to show you her belly button by lifting up her shirt and pointing to the spot. She will hopefully grow out of this by puberty.

You can ask her almost anything in an excited tone of voice and she'll reply with an enthusiastic, "YEEAAAHHH!!"

She expresses her excitement and wonder with an exaggerated "WHOOOAAA," her eyes go wide and her little mouth turns into an oval.

Recent interests include: eating ice, catching balls, plugging her ears, watching any of the neighbor's many feral cats, overturning boxes and climbing on them, standing up in the shopping cart, standing up in the high chair, playing with mommy's makeup, and emptying the toilet paper rolls.

Words to describe Esmé: adventurous, independent-minded, happy, enthusiastic, alert, social (but still very attached to mommy...)

Getting Ready for Church

2011-09-21T05:44:00.000-07:00

Talking

2011-09-17T19:26:00.000-07:00

Talking from Annie Phillips on Vimeo.

Hollywood Bowl

2011-09-15T17:16:00.000-07:00

My favorite place in the world. It's a warm summer night, we picnic in the park under palm trees and the setting sun. We hear people enjoying life and smell the faint whiff of warm wine. Inside the Bowl, we sit on the wood benches under the stars and listen to the music that reminds us why we love the movies. John Williams is brilliant as ever, and we enjoy one of the best nights of the year.

Zoo Day

2011-09-08T17:25:00.000-07:00

The next stop on our trip was Star Wars day at the LA Zoo. We were excited to show Esmé all the thrilling beasts at the zoo and get to enjoy a festival of Star Wars regalia at the same time. It was a winning idea! However, we failed to take a few things into account when planning this little outing:

1. Traffic in LA is inevitable. YES, even on a Saturday morning. Driving from Anaheim to Griffith Park didn't seem like such a big deal until we realized we'd be moving at ten miles per hour the whole way...

2. Believe it or not, we were able to find a place in California that was actually hotter than Houston. We got rolled by a heat wave. The scorching black asphalt and perpetual incline of the zoo did not ease the heat.

3. We don't like sweltering heat and neither do most thrilling beasts. We moved from place to place searching for animals. Most of them were curled up and hiding from the heat and the people. It was difficult to explain to Esmé that the unmoving blob that looked like a rock was not actually a rock, it was a hippo. She didn't really get it.

4. Star Wars Day at the LA Zoo consists of about six guys dressed up in storm trooper gear walking around.

At the entrance. It was really hot.

Showing Esmé a meerkat.

Flamingos


The giraffe was pretty perky and easy to see. We liked him.

We were so lucky to have Grandma Tutu with us at the zoo. She pushed the stroller, entertained the baby, and maintained a great attitude, which is more than I can say for myself. Once we made it to the elephant sanctuary only to see no elephant, I was done with the zoo. Esmé had dumped water all over herself to combat the heat, and she just seemed happy to be out and about. Roo was determined to make the best of the day and pushed us to continue. But by noon, we were all ready to be done. I did not envy the hordes of little families and sweaty kids who were just entering for the day. No offense, LA Zoo, but we gave you our best effort. You could have at least had ewoks...

The Happiest Place on Earth

2011-09-01T13:44:00.000-07:00

Just to see if we could out-do the beach in sheer awesomeness, we took Esmé to Disneyland. She seemed initially unimpressed by the magic of the place. However, after a few rides, she warmed up. I see in her a future Disney enthusiast...just not so much in the picture below.

She was a bit overwhelmed by It's a Small World, but really, who isn't? That's a lot of little singing dolls for even the grownest of men, much less an innocent little baby!

In addition to Small World, we made it through Pinocchio, The Haunted Mansion (which broke down mid-ride while Esmé had a poopy diaper--this was the true horror of the ride), Mr. Toad's Wild Ride (Esmé handled the chaos of getting hit by a train and going to Hell remarkably well), and Pirates of the Caribbean, which was her favorite ride. She liked the drop, the cool breezes, and the skeletons. She said "OOH" a lot on that ride. By the end of the day and after a nice lunch, we were happy as could be but very tired. So we all went back to the hotel for a nap.

Here is Esmé at our very lovely hotel.
And here is Esmé striking a sassy pose.

After baby was down for the night, Roo and I went back to D-land where I dominated on Autopia. We love Disneyland!! And we love the grandparents who babysit for us even more!

California - At the Beach

2011-08-30T08:14:00.000-07:00

The month of August was a brutal one for us. After closing on our house, the two of us spent every free moment getting it all painted, cleaned, and moved into--all in addition to raising a child, working full time, and having church and other responsibilities. A brutally, unceasingly sweltering summer did not help ease the strain. And after one too many late nights, sick of breathing in paint fumes in our poorly air-conditioned house, sick of finding giant bugs and jumping at strange sounds, exhausted from the never-ending loads of boxes to be moved, that I decided that no one had ever needed a vacation more than we did right then!

Thankfully, sweet relief came when we unloaded our last box from the apartment, turned in the keys and high-tailed it out of Houston to California where, upon disembarking from the plane, it was a breezy 79 degrees. We were off to a good start.

We spent a couple days in Temecula with Roo's brother and family. While there, we spent a day at Oceanside beach.

We were curious to see how Esmé would like the ocean. She was immediately intrigued by the sand.

But once she realized there was an ocean behind her, there was no keeping her out of it. She ran as fast as her tiny legs could carry her towards the waves.
It was overcast that day, and a little chilly even. The water was downright cold, but Esmé was as happy as could be to get soaked by it. The slippery little girl was difficult to keep a hold of! She'd wriggle her little hand out of mine and take off into the waves at every opportunity.

After a half an hour or so of communing with the sea, we noticed that Esmé was shivering and her limbs were taking on a purple color, so we pried her away from the waves. Though, she would have stayed there all day, I'm sure, if she could have--whether or not she could feel her limbs.

To warm up, we took a stroll down the pier, where we saw dolphins jumping (in the water, not on the pier) and had lunch.

We went back to Temecula and had a good nap and a good swim in Barratt's amazing pool. That afternoon, Roo's parents arrived and we were all excited to see each other. Then we all had a yummy barbeque and roasted marshmallows. The beach was great, and so was the swimming and the barbeque, but the best part was being able to spend time with the people we love--and all the better that it was in a hospitable climate!

The Truth About Annie... (by Roo)

2011-08-15T10:42:00.000-07:00

Annie is NOT this:

Dumb; ugly; lazy; etc.

Annie is KIND OF this:

Nerdy; crazy; detail oriented; likes and is good at sports; etc.

Annie is HARDCORE this (put "HARDCORE" (must be in all caps) at the beginning of each phrase):

Beautiful; awesome at mothering; great at keeping our home organized, clean and functional; intelligent; book smart; street smart; artistic; excellent at raising Esme; the best wife; talented at writing (verse or prose); great at editing; excellent at cooking; etc.

I spoke with Esme about this last night and we both agreed that Annie has no equal when it comes to balancing out all the responsibilities that young mothers have. She does everything that needs to be done, wisely leaves stuff undone that only perfection requires, and still finds time to take care of her husband and daughter.

You are doing great Annie, and we love you for it!

Now For a Little Esmé

2011-08-13T08:22:00.000-07:00

Our baby has become a toddler.

She loves to try on shoes.

and read books

and look precious

and discover new forms of transportation

and vigilantly protect her beloved blanket.

Other milestones include: learning to plug her ears, willfully disobeying her mother by throwing her dinner off her high chair tray, riding in a big girl car seat, being cuter than ever, being happier than ever, running away from her parents, and being able to make a "munch" sound when she sees a picture of a rabbit. This girl has such a big personality! We LOVE her!!

We Bought A House

2011-08-05T20:10:00.000-07:00

Three bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a few groovy arches circa1971 in front--this is our new home.

Once we finish painting, cleaning, packing, moving, and buying stuff, you'll get to see some more pictures.

Esmé and Mommy

2011-07-17T14:51:00.000-07:00

Walking!

2011-07-17T14:44:00.000-07:00

So long, pirate crawl!

Dock Dogs

2011-07-05T07:09:00.000-07:00

Is there a better way to celebrate the birth of our nation than by watching dogs jump as far as they can into a swimming pool? We decided there was not, so we spent our 4th of July weekend in downtown Houston watching these talented pups do just that. Dock Dogs is a national championship of dog jumping that takes place every year. The dogs are led onto a raised platform, then their master tosses a toy into the pool and the dog eagerly (or not so eagerly) goes galloping after it and belly flops in the pool. Whoever jumps the farthest wins. Meanwhile the crowd cheers and says 'ahhhhh' to the especially spectacular or especially pathetic jumps.

The park was full of dogs and dog lovers--one of whom is our little Esmé. She smiled and pointed at all the puppies and even pet a few of them.

{photo from here}

Maybe you can't tell from the pictures, but on this particular day it was hotter than the surface of the sun. It took a lot of self-restraint to keep from belly flopping into that giant pool myself, it was so sweltering! Look at poor baby Esmé's red, sweaty face:
Thankfully there was a fountain at the park where we could play and cool down--sort of. By the time we were all so wet that we couldn't tell if it was from the fountain or from our own sweat, we knew it was time to call it a day. We bid farewell to the wet dogs and took our wet selves home to sprawl out under the A/C.

It was a good day.

One Year

2011-06-30T19:21:00.000-07:00

Our girl has gone from this (June 29, 2010):

...to this (yesterday):
There was ample reason to celebrate having made it one whole year together! Some days have been exciting, some have been boring, some have felt never-ending, and others unforgettable. But I feel truly blessed to have spent every single one of those days with my girl! And the fact that she has survived with us in charge of her is reason enough to celebrate!

Though we do miss having our family here to celebrate with us, we did get to open presents via Skype with them. Here's Esmé's package from Tutu's and Aunt Natalee.

On Sunday, we had dinner with our friends, the Parkers, and ate a little birthday cake.

Here is Esmé with her first boyfriend. I think that's pretty impressive to already have a boyfriend by one year old. It took until about 17 for me to get one.One more round of opening presents via Skype with Grandma and Grandpa Wright:

The night before her birthday, Roo and I were watching The Return of the King, and I couldn't help comparing how Frodo felt while climbing up Mount Doom to how I felt the night I was giving birth to our little Esmé. It was the hardest thing I've ever done. But of course it was worth the difficulty. We love our little girl so much more than we could ever have imagined a year ago! She amazes us every day!

Presents from Natalee & Grandma Tutu

2011-06-25T13:12:00.000-07:00

Untitled from Annie Phillips on Vimeo.

Annie's Art Initiative

2011-06-22T12:07:00.000-07:00

I've decided I need a hobby. I found that after I had cleaned everything that needed to be cleaned and put the baby in her crib to nap, I didn't know what to do with myself. This resulted in my getting way too many naps, since taking a nap was far more attractive than doing more chores during my free time. Feeling slightly guilty for spending so much time unconscious, I knew I had to find something (productive, if possible) to fill my time. Something even more seductive than an afternoon cat nap.

I spent some time brainstorming new hobby ideas. I also searched the internet. Here is what I came up with. (I blame the stupid ones on the internet):

Breeding guinea pigs - Then I thought about what that would entail...and I realized I wouldn't even know where to start. Literally. No idea where--on the guinea pig, I mean.

Participating in Viking and/or Saxon historical reenactments - Pillaging and plundering aside, I dig the sailing aspect of this potential hobby. Unfortunately after putting some feelers out in the apartment complex, there doesn't seem to be much enthusiasm for historical reenactments, at least not Viking or Saxon. And I couldn't manage a Knarr (that's the Norse term for a ship built for Atlantic voyage) on my own. Maybe a Karve (that's a smaller ship, similar to the Knarr), but definitely not a Knarr.

Watching endoscopic surgeries online - I decided I don't want to know what I look like on the inside. I don't think whoever's colon that was would want me knowing how they looked in there either.

Learning songs backwards - Then I thought, what is the point of this?

Wittling sticks - Too hard.

Wittling soap - Too hard.

Wittling crayons - Too easy. Also, they break like twigs. And your options are pretty narrow as far as your end result goes. You can carve a tree branch, a person's leg (foot not included), or a straight snake. Boring.

Scrapbooking - I'm better at wittling crayons.

Taphophilia - A Taphophile is someone who takes an interest in tombstones. They look at them and do rubbings of the engravings and, I think, generally just hang around in graveyards as a hobby. So, that actually sounds pretty interesting to me. But did the term 'Taphophilia' make you a little nervous? Me too. Realizing that part of becoming a tombstone enthusiast would require me being known as a Taphophile pretty much killed (pun intended!) this hobby for me.

Napping - Based on what I'd come up with so far, this one was looking pretty good again.

Playing Guitar - That's really only good if you're trying to impress high school girls, which I am not.

Sports - I know what you're thinking: it would be pretty unfair of me to make all my teammates and coaches and stuff look so bad at sports when compared to me. Agreed. I should probably never play sports. Ever.

So I settled on the old classic, Drawing. I love art (wittling excluded) and did some drawing in my younger years, so I pulled out my old sketchbook and now try to work on my drawings as much as I can. This is what I've done so far:

Lips

Spheres

A well-known Taphophile

To All the Fathers in my Life:

2011-06-18T13:59:00.000-07:00

Thank you for teaching me what a good man should be.

I love you!

It was Esmé's bedtime one evening, and Roo had volunteered to put her down. I happened to pass by her bedroom door and I saw the two of them there. Roo was holding her, her tiny fist was grasping his shoulder, and he was holding each of her stuffed animals up to her face, having them tell her goodnight. He picked up her little kangaroo and her little Aunt Beru action figure and Esmé touched them. I just watched the two of them together and I thought, this might be one of the best moments of the day, or the week, or really, of my life.

Thank you, Roo, for being such an exceptional 'dada'!

What I Need Today

2011-06-08T06:18:00.000-07:00

Either a tiny sloth or a hug. You can interpret it however you'd like.

From Sara's blog

11 Months

2011-05-29T17:28:00.000-07:00

Today Esmé is 11 months old and as cute (or cuter) than ever!

Lately, we've been experimenting on new hair-do's. Here we have the curly pompadour:
And this is what happens when Daddy does Esmé's hair:

She's just recently starting sporting the top-of-the head ponytail.

She is an adventurous girl, and with that comes a few bumps and bruises. This particular injury on the forehead looks like she had a recent run-in with Voldemort.
Disorganizing things is one of her favorite pastimes.
She usually eats with one foot on the tray.
She's such a sweet, silly girl! We can't believe she's almost one!

A Case of Mistaken Identity?

2011-05-23T11:20:00.000-07:00

There have been three strange occurrences of mistaken identity in my life lately.

First, about six months ago, I received an email that went something like this:

Dear Allison,
Thank you for your interest in (some kind of job opening...I forget what it was). We will contact you once we review your resume.

I thought, hmm that was weird. Someone must've mixed up my email address with this Allison person. Oh well. Delete. Then periodically over the next six months, I would receive email alerts for various job openings and automatic 'thank you for applying' response-type emails from some employment website that were meant for this Allison person. It was annoying, so I'd just delete them.

Then about two months ago, I got an email that went something like this:

Dear Windycitygirl,

Thank you for registering on Match.com. You're gonna love using our website (or something like that) Click this link to update your profile and view your matches. (Followed by a bunch of login and profile information.)

I thought, uhh, that's weird. I didn't register for Match.com, and if I did I certainly wouldn't have chosen the username 'Windycitygirl'. Wanting the issue to just go away, I deleted the email. However, almost everyday for the following months, I would receive email updates from Match.com telling me that 47 men had viewed my profile today. Or that SexyAbs2000 wants to flirt with me. I had no idea why I was getting these emails. There must have been some kind of mistake. Having been winked at by one too many Match.com males (or so my daily emails would inform me) I decided to see if I could log in to this profile and see why I was getting these emails. It seemed someone (Windycitygirl) had mistakenly entered my email address when creating the profile. She probably just had to create a new profile when she couldn't get in using her own email address, and here I was, the recipient of her Match.com flirtations from her first failed profile attempt. Realizing that I had full access to this person's profile and account and, had I wished, could have masqueraded as her on the website, I got overburdened by the invasion of privacy and unsubscribed to the emails. Weird.

Finally, last Saturday while we were watching a movie at home, I received the following text message from a strange number I've never seen before in my life:

'I like u back then. Corey didn't deserve u. And when he wasn't making u happy I wanted to.'

Whoa. I'm flattered and all, but who the heck is Corey?

Then an hour later from the same number (a Tennessee area code, we found out):

'K have fun'

It took a lot of self discipline to not text back something like, 'I want u to make me happy. Can u come over tonite?' But while I was laughing about it, I began to wonder if something strange is going on.

You know how some medications make people do things they can't remember, like driving forklifts at night. Then they wake up and have no idea why they have a forklift on their patio. Or how some people live secret double lives. What if I am not only living a double life, but a quadruple life?! During the day I am Annie the housewife, but at night I am alternately Allison the unemployed; Windycitygirl the lonely; and someone who should have known better than to let Corey mistreat them so.

That might be the only explanation for these strange events.

Yikes.

Art

2011-05-18T07:24:00.000-07:00

Roo doesn't really like to draw. But sometimes I ask him to draw pictures for me, because few things are as guaranteed to make me happy as that.

Here are some of his pieces. He didn't give his permission, but I'm sure he won't mind.

Kangaroo. (Note the pouch)

When I asked why he had drawn such a small portrait, he said it's because she's small in real life. That made sense. I think the hair is pretty right on.

On Mothering

2011-05-08T16:52:00.000-07:00

The Thursday before Mother's Day weekend, I was sitting with Roo in a busy Mexican restaurant at the height of the lunch hour. I was a lone housewife in a sea of suits and Blackberry-toting business casual-ites. As we waited to be seated, I watched the men and women stand in groups, discussing work, the office, their co-workers, the boss, and while struggling to prevent my baby from grasping a fistful of my hair, I felt oddly out of place.

We were seated and enjoying our lunch when in walked a long line of twenty-something women dressed to the nines, budding professionals in their heels and trousers and purses. Suddenly my efforts to get "dressed up" by wearing my yellow sandals rather than my plain brown flip flops felt feeble. It had been long week of mothering for me, and I knew I had an afternoon of ironing and playing blocks on the family room floor ahead of me. It was one of those moments that sparked a flicker of one thought which we all experience at some point no matter our circumstance: what if things were different? What would that life be like? It was a fleeting thought, nowhere near regret, but closer to curiosity. I watched them flip their hair, check their phones, and order some drinks before Esmé's tiny slapping hands upon the table top reminded me she was ready for her next bite.

I thought a lot about being a mother for the rest of that day, about the choice I had made to become one. Of course, the wonder and joy of having a child is Mt. Everest compared to any other wonder or joy I've experienced before, but existing in the shadow of that mountain is the temptation to entertain the tiny thought 'where would I be without her?' Idle thought, really. But it was suddenly pushed from my mind as I watched my baby tottering on her little feet, reaching out to walk to me, and the thought came to me 'Where would she be without you?'. I realized that among the varied joys of being a mother, to be so needed by someone else is one of my favorite. I am everything to her. She needs me to put her jammies on and replace her binki and clip her tiny fingernails. She needs me to protect her and love her and teach her to love herself. I realized that to be a mother is to be utterly indispensable. What an honor.

Where would I be without her? Well, I'll never be anywhere else but with her, she is an eternal part of my existence, and I am so blessed because of it.

And to our own mothers, thank you for always being there for us. We love you!
And to Roo, thank you for the fruit.

On Saturday, I woke up from my nap to find a big bouquet of purple flowers with a note that said, "Happy Mother's Day. Look in the bathroom closet." Inside the bathroom closet was a watermelon. On the watermelon was a note that said, "Look inside the fridge." Inside the fridge was a carton of fresh raspberries and strawberries which had a note that said, "Look inside the freezer." Inside the freezer was a pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream.

So, among all those other joys of being a mother is the joy of getting fruit and ice cream after a nap.

Month 10

2011-05-01T19:56:00.000-07:00

Month 10 of Esmé's life brought some great advancements.

Her hair is now long enough to sport cute barrettes.
She loves animals! We took her to Petsmart to watch the doggies and she just stood there with her hands against the glass and smiled. When we carried her over to see the dogs being groomed, her big smiles and laughs made every groomer in the room stop and smile at her.
She can order off the menu. Or at least, she can eat more adult food cut up into little chunks. She can and does eat almost anything all the time. She would eat constantly if she could.
She can ride in the shopping cart like a big girl. No more lugging that massive baby carrier into the store! However, now most of my shopping time is taken up by trying to block her from sucking on the shopping cart. I'll put my hand in the way to block her mouth, and she'll just sit there and bite it. Don't worry, germ-aphobes, it just builds character. And we try to disinfect often.
She loves her toys! This is how we spend a lot of our days.
She still scoot/crawls on one foot and one knee. She's pretty fast.

She is beginning to understand that sounds have associations to things. Meaning, she knows that when I say 'dada' I mean Roo. When I talk about 'dada' she'll look at Roo or crawl to him. When he comes home from work or gets her out of her crib, she says 'dadadad'. I wouldn't say it's her first word quite yet, because it's more like babble, and because she also says 'dadada' when Roo isn't around, but I can tell she's learning. It's very cute.

When I sing Popcorn Popping to her, she has learned to open and close her little hands to mimic my hand actions during the song. A small thing to most people, but to her mother it is amazing to see her develop like that.

To sum up her personality:

Determined
Enthusiastic
Happy (everywhere we go, people comment on how happy she is. She smiles at everyone and loves people.)
Demanding
Smart
Energetic--she's always on the move and rarely wants to sit still or be cuddled.
Funny

I can't imagine possibly loving her more than I do now, but I bet by month eleven she'll make it possible.

The Spirit of Britannia

2011-04-29T05:56:00.001-07:00

Today I wanted to be British.

Maybe it was all the waving Union Jacks or the tolling bells at Westminster.

Maybe it was because I remembered that six years ago today, I was in Britain and loving it.Maybe it's because I just finished David Copperfield again. I read that last page and just sat there, stunned and in awe.

Maybe it's because I get the same feeling when I listen to Dark Side of the Moon from beginning to end.

Or because we end each day watching a segment of Pride and Prejudice before bed.

Maybe it's from my recent annual viewing of Simon Shama's A History of Britain. I was doing my ironing while finishing the last episode (is my nerdiness overwhelming you? If so, please feel free to discontinue reading.) Anyway, I was just finishing the last episode and the camera was panning over the English Channel and I had to stop my chore and just sit down, feeling quite overcome by the weight of such monumental history. (Seriously, if you've read this far, you must have a high nerd tolerance.)

Maybe it's the knowledge that deep down and far back, that history is also my history.

Or maybe it's just all the hats.
Either way, I think the rest of the family is also feeling the pull from the other side of the Pond. In the recent weeks as morning and evening news broadcasts have been taken hostage by the minute details of the royal wedding, Roo would constantly complain indignantly, "Is there anyone who even cares about this stuff?!" Well, at some point between then and now, something--what I like to think of as The Spirit of Britannia--has settled upon Roo, working a mighty change. A few days ago he actually watched one of the many stories about the upcoming wedding and its participants, and since then he's been eager to keep up on all the details. He'd stop what he was doing in order to catch up on the latest news. He even spoke to some friends in England to get their take on the events. When I walked in on him one morning watching the news and getting his daily fill of royal wedding updates, he just looked up and said a guilty, "What?!"

This morning we watched the wedding highlights together and he even went into work a little later than usual so he could watch "the kiss" from the balcony. I love Roo! (He watches lots of hockey and action movies, too. I feel the need to reinforce his masculinity here...) Isn't he so handsome? Imagine him in a top hat!

And even as I was writing this blog post, Esmé was pulling books off the shelf and I looked up to find her flipping through this one. (The History of England Volume II). Seriously, this photo was not staged. She was just trying to get up to speed. Because maybe today, she wants to be a little British, too.

We Miss You Guys!!! (Roo's half-yearly post)

2011-04-26T17:19:00.000-07:00

Annie is not at home right now.....

Jek Porkins is dead.....

All we can think to do is help the world understand our pain....

Roo's pain (particularly acute tonight with Annie gone):

Esmé's pain (about 30 minutes after mommy left her tonight):

While Esmé is worried if she will ever see mom again, I am hopeful that Annie will have a better sense of when to eject should the need ever arise. We love you Annie!

Like Father, Like Daughter

2011-04-19T05:22:00.000-07:00

Roo circa 1985:

Esmé circa two weeks ago:

Travels

2011-04-13T17:31:00.000-07:00

I once walked 20 miles in one day, up mountainsides and through valleys from sunup to sundown. It was exhausting--the most exhausting thing possible, I thought. That was before I tried traveling with a 9 month old. A couple weeks ago we flew to Salt Lake City for a week long vacation with our families in Idaho and Utah, and making the trek with Esmé was like traveling with a herd of cats. Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating just a bit; however, there's no question that by the time our vacation was finished, I was ready for a vacation.

We flew out on Saturday afternoon. Two hours in the airport and three hours on the plane, about fifty Baby Mum mum snacks, two bottles, many handfuls of puffs, a 20 minute nap, at least thirty times reading "Bobby Bunny", a few minutes of Baby Einstein on the iphone, lots of shrieks and arched backs, and three fellow passengers who were charmed by Esmé's coy smiles by the end of the trip.

After an interminable wait for the rental car and a two and a half hour drive to Inkom, we were so happy to arrive at the Phillips! We were reacquainted with snow as well as our three beloved pets. The dogs wagged their tail-less bums and barked in excitement. Esmé was thrilled by all the pets. She giggled at their wet noses and laughed at loud when they barked. I think the barking reminded her of being in the womb...

We enjoyed our soft beds, plenty of space to play, yummy food and lots of very willing babysitters. Here's baby with Papa Tutu.

And grandma Tutu

Feeding time with Tutu and Aunt Natalee.

Esmé's first trip to Elmer's for breakfast.

A few days later, we packed up and headed down south, stopping on our way to visit family in Salt Lake.

At my parents' house we got to visit with all the cousins, attend cousin Peter's blessing, play at the park, eat more yummy food, and (Roo's favorite part) take our family portrait.

While all the packing up and moving around from place to place to visit everyone took a bit of effort, it was so worth it to see so many people we've missed so much! You know what else was worth it? The utter fatigue from going to bed around 1 am for a few nights in a row after going to late movies. To compensate for months of not seeing any movies, we saw five.

After another crazy plane ride home, we were ready to collapse. But, I guess that's how you know you've had a good vacation--you're worn out from all the good times. We sure do miss our families! And the theater...

This post is by Esmé

2011-04-06T15:42:00.000-07:00

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Now this part is by Annie:

Esmé had her 9 month appointment this week. For those of you keeping track, she weighs 16.4 lbs. This puts her in the 15th percentile. Her height of 27 inches is the 42nd percentile. But what she lacks in stature, she makes up for in personality. Her cuteness factor is somewhere around the 8000 billionth percentile.

She's learned to pull herself up and is very eager to walk. Many times she'll just stand against the table and refuse to let herself drop. She'll stubbornly stay there until someone answers her cries and picks her up. While she's waiting to be picked up she likes to hammer on the laptop keyboard with her fists. This is what inspired her to write the message above.

She's very close to saying mama and dada. I think she could count to 100 if she wanted to, but she chooses not to so as to not make all the other babies feel inferior. She LOVES to eat...anything. We have to watch her very carefully these days otherwise she'll end up tipping over the lamp with a mouth full of lint. She is full of life and happiness. We can't imagine loving anything more!

Rooisms

2011-04-06T15:35:00.000-07:00

Here are my favorite Roo quotes lately:

"I have brontosaurus feet."

"Everyone knows rhinos are sloppy."

"When I read about the fatted calf I think of you." (He claims that's because he knows I like to eat meat.)

Last night I was going out to a book club meeting, so Roo would have the evening to himself. We had this exchange:

Annie: So, are you going to act like a bachelor tonight?

Roo: Yes. First I'm going to watch all the best scenes from The Fast and Furious movies. Then I'm going to watch all the best scenes from the National Lampoon movies.

Annie: So that won't take very long.

Roo: No it won't. So, then I'm going to watch the Thor trailer online again.

Annie: You're probably really going to do that one, aren't you?

Roo: Yeah I probably will.

Esmé Crawling

2011-04-01T07:48:00.001-07:00

There is some speculation that Esmé was actually taught to crawl by someone with a peg leg.

Esmé Crawling from Annie Phillips on Vimeo.

General Conference!

2011-03-28T08:21:00.000-07:00

Saints of the world unite!

Got this from here.

The Body is More Than Raiment

2011-03-20T19:35:00.000-07:00

Have you ever caught yourself in the act of becoming someone you'd never thought you'd be? I did last Saturday. And it was not pretty.

The combination of a post-pregnancy body and a lack of spending money in the last year or so left me with a semi-meager, hand-me-down, ill-fitting wardrobe. It turns out I can be quite vain when it comes to my appearance, so the state of my closet was making me gradually more and more grouchy. 'Nothing fits!' I said. 'I have no clothes!' 'I feel like a homeless person!' I complained a lot, which I am ashamed to admit, but there it is--the true me.

One day, we received a Happy Easter package from our family and inside was a sum of cash with which I was specifically instructed to go buy some new summer clothes--an answered prayer, Roo was quick to point.

I was so excited. Unabashedly thrilled to go choose clothing. Roo, in turn, was also thrilled because whenever I am happy, he is happy. So Saturday was the day I took the cash, headed to the mall, and learned a great lesson.

The first "problem" (that's the word I would've chosen at the time) of that day was that Esmé was hungry and tired before we even left. Second, the mall was overrun with people. Third, I don't do well under stress. So there I was in the store jostling through people, so focused on finding good clothes and good deals and all the while aware that my hungry baby was fussy and Roo was probably getting bored with waiting for me. In between rushed trips to the dressing room, I was getting frustrated. Frustrated with the way I looked. Frustrated with the way the clothes weren't fitting. Frustrated that Roo was just milling about and waiting with the angry baby. Frustrated that the baby needed to eat thirty minutes ago. Frustrated that I didn't know what to pick. And frustrated, I am most ashamed to admit, that we didn't have enough money for me to get everything I wanted. Finally overcome, angry, annoyed, and like I mentioned, frustrated, I chose some shorts and gave up on finding anything else. We left.

Walking back to the car, I was obviously flustered and annoyed. I felt as frumpy getting back into the car as I'd felt stepping out of it. Roo can read me like a book, but at that moment I was more like a flashing billboard of dissatisfaction, which in turn made Roo dissatisfied. He asked me if I was okay, trying to get me to say why I was so annoyed. I'm fine, I defensively responded, then listed the various frustrations of the day. I pointed out that he didn't seem like he'd had a very good time, trying to shift the blame for our bad moods onto him. "I'm fine," he said, "I was just hoping that this could be a nice outing for you," And then he said it: "That you would just be happy."

"That you would just be happy..." I felt accused. And then I felt guilty. I wanted to be offended, but eclipsing that was the knowledge that what he said was true. I should have just been happy. I had been given--given!--money to spend all on myself and there I was making the worst of the situation, finding the worst in myself, picking out all the ways in which I could conceivably be unsatisfied with the situation. There I was pouting in the parking lot.

I didn't say anything on the way home. But I had learned two lessons:

1) There's nothing wrong with wanting to look nice, the problem is when that keeps you from acting nice. The other problem is when you use the appearance of your body to determine its fundamental worth. One glance of a bad angle in the mirror and your day is ruined, your identity in disarray. I happened to read that night in Luke, "The body is more than raiment." To think otherwise is to be profoundly ungrateful.

2) I should just be happy.

Happy like our little Esmé here:

Esmé Laughing from Annie Phillips on Vimeo.

p.s. I just want to add that I went back to the same store on Monday with a much better attitude and found plenty of nice summer clothes. I want to thank those responsible.

Just Two Things About Me

2011-03-15T19:56:00.000-07:00

1. I am not wise at night. A high percentage of things I regret saying were said when it was dark out. Roo can attest.

2. I can make some top-notch naan. Here's the recipe if you want it. It is phe-naan-enal. (Hmmm...that last thing I said may have just confirmed point #1.)

Kemah!

2011-03-14T08:56:00.000-07:00

I feel this picture best sums up our emotional state at the end of the week:

A little bit crazy. A little bit Gary Busey-esque, if you will.

So on Saturday morning we decided to do as the Houstonians do and take in some springtime cheer at the seaside. But in order to do that, we also had to do as the Houstonians do and drive one hour through the Gotham-like cityscape of oil refineries on the way to the coast. After we passed through the dark land of the refineries, we arrived at Kemah, which has a lively boardwalk with lovely sea views and a carnival atmosphere. We ate lunch on the deck of a Mexican restaurant right next to the water.

(I borrowed the previous two pictures from the internet to give you a better idea of the place.)

In this picture I may look like I'm admiring the scenery, but I was actually staring unabashedly and eavesdropping on the conversation of two (very young) tattooed kids next to me who were drinking beer and smoking and talking about their partying/video gaming exploits, and I was wondering, what happened to your parents? It's probably a sad story.

I find I'm at my most judgmental when I'm in a carnival setting.

The weather was warm, the air thick and salty with a steady sea breeze. It felt distinctly Southern. It felt good to be out of doors.

A lazy afternoon in the warm South. You can almost hear the lonely banjo plucking away in the distance. Somebody get this girl a straw hat and a fishing pole!

What Esmé and Bob Have in Common:

2011-03-07T17:25:00.000-08:00

First watch this one:

Now compare:

Esmé Eating from Annie Phillips on Vimeo.

UK Study Abroad 2005

2011-03-06T05:34:00.000-08:00

It's been six years since our study abroad in the UK. I recently made this slide show of our trip and decided to share it here. It is quite long (we were there for two months) but I thought it might be interesting for those of you who were there with us.

UK Study Abroad 2005 from Annie Phillips on Vimeo.

Dream Location of the Week

2011-03-04T08:42:00.000-08:00

The Dog Bark Park Inn - Bed & Breakfast

Cottonwood, Idaho

Is there any reason why someone would not want to sleep in the head of the World's Largest Beagle? I can't think of any. It boasts a private 2nd story deck, unique decor designed by chainsaw artists (yes, chainsaw artists) Dennis and Francis, plus, as the website boasts, "a cozy alcove in the muzzle."

Month 8

2011-02-27T20:46:00.001-08:00

Esmé is growing. Everyday we look at her and can't believe how quickly she's gone from tiny baby to practically a grown woman now!

Some highlights of the month include:

She's very close to crawling.
She's got two little teeth poking up through her bottom gums.
She can mimic us when we clap our hands, shake our heads, or stick out our tongues.
She's started wearing shoes (this is a big milestone in a girl's life.)

And it seems like her personality is growing just as much as her body! She's got so much energy and is really good humored. She is so smiley! At church she stands on our bench and puts on a show for everyone behind us, smiling, playing peek-a-boo, and shaking her head crazily back and forth (we don't know why she does this, but whenever she's excited or amused, she throws her head from side to side. It makes me laugh every time.) She also loves other kids and will just smile and babble at everyone she sees.

She also eats socks.

When tired, she can be prone to mood swings, not unlike her mother:

And she loves to eat. She also gets that from her mother.

She loves her reflection. Also, she thinks clocks are funny and she enjoys board books and hand puppets.

We love our little girl so much! This month she has brought us laughter, joy and, according to my calculations, approximately 160 soiled diapers.

San Antonio

2011-02-21T12:26:00.000-08:00

Roo came home early from work on Friday afternoon to an ornery wife who had a nasty case of cabin fever. So he came up with a quick plan for us to remedy the solution: get out of town.

We decided to pack up right then and head to San Antonio three hours away. Though Esmé was not too pleased with being locked in her car seat for three hours, the drive was nice and went quick enough.

We stayed one night at the St. Anthony's hotel, where, according to photos in the lobby, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Princess Grace, and John Wayne had also stayed. The hotel was a ten-story brick building full of chandeliers, dark wood, and charming vintage details. We were able to get a discounted rate on our room, which was small but nice.

We had a very comfy and large king-sized bed. Esmé did not get to sleep on this bed. She slept in a pack n' play which fit conveniently in the closet--don't worry, we kept the door cracked. That way we could watch our movie without disturbing her. (I guess I feel like I need to justify why I put my baby in a closet...)Friday night, we walked down to the riverwalk. This is a lovely stretch of river that cuts through the city and which is lined with picturesque restaurants and shops.

Saturday we wandered over to the Alamo. It was a drizzly morning, but not so bad that we couldn't enjoy the sights.

From there, we went back down and explored the rest of the riverwalk. (The picture below is not mine, but I didn't get a good shot of the place, so I borrowed it from the internet.) The place was really lovely and well-maintained, with small-town charm. It felt like a mix of New Orleans Square at Disneyland and Pocatello, Idaho.
It felt so great to get away, even for just one day!

To My Valentine:

2011-02-13T18:48:00.000-08:00

Really, I'm not as funny as I think I am.

I'm not as smart as I think I am.

I'm not as righteous as I think I am.

And yet, you never let me know that.

Thank you for being incredibly good to me. After seven years, I'm so glad we're still in love. But I'm even more glad that we're still friends.

Love,
Annie

At the Grocery Store

2011-02-07T18:27:00.000-08:00

I'm standing at the checkout line with Esmé when an older lady passes us and stops suddenly when she sees Esmé.

Lady: OH! Is this your baby?

Me: Yes

Lady [Genuinely concerned]: Oh, but you're so young!

Me [Not sure how to respond]: Yeah, she's my first...

Lady: How old are you?!

Me: I'm going to be 25 this year.

Lady [laughing as if genuinely relieved]: Oh goodness! I thought you were 14!! Ha ha ha.

And she walks away. Her elderliness and mild foreign accent made her observation slightly less offensive.

Slightly.

Happy Birthday Roo!

2011-02-05T20:53:00.000-08:00

Splish Splash

2011-02-05T08:51:00.000-08:00

Brace yourself for cuteness overload.

Cuteness

2011-02-03T10:11:00.000-08:00

*Concerning the Previous Post

2011-01-31T14:01:00.001-08:00

I'm afraid Roo's description of my run-in with the mosquito has portrayed me as a terribly selfish being; So, in my own defense, I have to point out that Roo wasn't being entirely honest about the situation.

The bug was at least twice as big as that picture.

Annie & George Constanza

2011-01-29T17:00:00.000-08:00

Who would have thought that Annie and George Constanza (of Seinfeld) have something in common? Let's just say that both have a particular fear that runs very deep. George's fear is fire....Annie's fear is the Giant Mosquito:

Their commonality resides in the response to these fears: push off of helpless children to springboard out of harms way. Just take a look at the first 10 seconds of this video clip to see what I mean:

This is just what Annie did when she saw the giant mosquito flying in the nether-regions of our bedroom. Just replace the grandma with me (Roo) cradling sweet little Esmé in preparation for bedtime.

Father and Child

2011-01-23T17:17:00.000-08:00

Thanks, Roo, for being such a patient and wonderful father to our baby!

Dear Mitch Albom,

2011-01-19T17:58:00.000-08:00

I know that a few years back, you were the cat's pajamas after that Tuesdays with Morrie business, but I didn't read that book. Nor did I read this other book you wrote:

However, I would be far more likely to consider this one should you choose to do a sequel:

I'm thinking, Chapter 1: Pol Pot. The other four are up to you, though I'd be happy to provide suggestions. For example, I think you should have Keith Richards show up, explaining that his status as "undead" actually allows him to pass from earth into Hell and back at will.

Now that's a good read!

Quote of the Day

2011-01-18T20:15:00.001-08:00

"Bad dates."

Best Screenplay

2011-01-17T07:16:00.000-08:00

Mark Zuckerberg: If you guys were the inventors of Facebook, you'd have invented Facebook.

In my opinion, Aaron Sorkin definitely earned his award.

Vicarious Triumph

2011-01-15T13:01:00.000-08:00

I, Annie, just north of five feet tall, have a child who is in the 75th percentile in height! That means she is taller than 75 percent of other babies her age.

Please allow me to take this moment to revel in her glory.

Annie's Choice Destination of the Week

2011-01-15T12:49:00.000-08:00

SLOVENIA

Relatively light on tourists, it boasts the fantastic Julian Alps, a slice of the Mediterranean, and gorgeous scenery in between, not to mention a hearty local folk--Slovenian Davo Karničar was apparently the first person to ski down Mount Everest. So, they must be doing something right in Slovenia.

Changed Priorities Ahead

2011-01-07T17:35:00.000-08:00

I've been reading through my old journal from my study abroad in Great Britain. There are a lot of things I liked about Britain, but when I came across a page of my own sketches of my favorite British road signs, I remembered that this was what I loved about Britain:

As if the badgers weren't bad enough:

I spent a while thinking about what that sign actually signifies, but I've got nothing.

Watch out!

Then come the exclamation marks:
Something which seriously warrants the public's attention:
Not just any squirrels, but:

This one can be interpreted a number of different ways:
As if driving on the wrong side of the road wasn't bad enough:

And finally, the truest sign of them all:
Rather delightful, wouldn't you agree?

Our Christmas

2011-01-05T18:54:00.000-08:00

We were very lucky to have Grandma and Papa Tutu and Natalee with us for the week. We spent Christmas Eve eating dinner, looking at pictures, eating treats (namely peppermint bark), and opening a few gifts. Then we turned off the fire so we could watch While You Were Sleeping.

I was in charge of our Christmas feast. On Christmas Eve we had ham, potatoes, green beans, homemade rolls, fruit salad, and a chocolate cream pie. Considering my experience with the peppermint bark, I expected making a ham for the first time would cause the house to explode or something; however, everything turned out wonderfully. I was very, very proud of myself, I'm not ashamed to say.

Here is our array of treats.

90% of those presents were for her. (Just kidding :) Through most of November and December, we were finding more pressing needs for our Christmas money, so I really wasn't expecting us to have many gifts at all. So I felt extremely grateful and blessed on Christmas not only to have gifts for everyone but especially to have our family with us! It was so wonderful!

The rest of the week mainly consisted of:

Games

The Houston Temple

Movies

Shopping
And lots and lots and lots of eating!

So all in all, it was one of the best weeks of the whole year!

The Joy of Cooking

2011-01-01T19:25:00.001-08:00

Last week, with Christmas fast approaching, and being overcome with its festive spirit, I decided to make a quick batch of Peppermint Bark after seeing a recipe on Amy's blog. This promised to be a no-fail recipe as long as you were capable of mastering exactly two skills: melting and pouring. So pretty much anyone over the age of nine ought to be able to handle it. Fine.

Here's how it went:

Directions:
1. Put wax paper over a cookie sheet.
Done. Took, like, two seconds.

2. Over a double boiler (make one with a pot of water about 2 inches deep and put a glass bowl on top), melt the milk chocolate chips.
Okay. So I find a glass bowl, prop it precariously over a pot of boiling water. This arrangement is called a "double boiler" so I probably should let the water get really hot, right? Wrong. I dump in the chocolate chips into the very hot glass bowl. The melting goes according to plan for about thirty seconds at which point the chips congeal into a grotesque, stiff, chocolate mass. They are burned. Strike one.

Grotesque chocolate ball is thrown into the sink. Thankfully, I have another $3.50 bag of Ghiradelli's finest chocolate chips on hand. This time I turn the stove down so the water is not quite so hot. I dump bag two into the glass bowl. I start to stir the chocolate. Everything is going according to plan until one stir proves to be too much for the precariously balanced glass bowl which tips over into the water, splashing it everywhere. Turns out, the water is still quite hot and it is scalding my face. I try to rescue attempt #2, but it has been tainted with hot water and is now a grotesque, stiff, chocolate mass. It joins its brother in the sink. That's $7.00 of chocolate down the drain, literally.

I'm out of chocolate chips. Being equally determined as I am angry at this point, I spot a bag of Nestle chocolate bells. I unwrap all 800 individually wrapped candies in the bag and place them in the secure glass bowl which is in the now lukewarm water. Ten minutes later, they are melting beautifully. Nice.

3. Add 1/2 tsp. peppermint extract.

4. Pour onto cookie sheet and spread.
Oh, that's easy. I pour the chocolate onto the sheet and admire my work. And then I read instruction #3. Crap! Since I missed the boat on adding the peppermint extract before, I decide to sprinkle the extract over the chocolate cookie sheet and carefully stir it in with a spatula before it hardens. Whatever works. Or doesn't work. Frankly, at this point I don't care whether it does or not.

5. Chill in fridge for 15 minutes.
Ahh. My favorite cooking instruction: chill.

6. Melt white chocolate chips the same way you melted the milk chocolate chips.
My initial reaction to this is, "oh, great." This time, I am successful on my first, very careful, melting attempt.

7. Add 1/2 tsp. peppermint extract.
Ah ha! You will not elude me again, peppermint extract! I start measuring a tsp of extract, holding the extract over the bowl of chocolate. While in the very process of triumphing over the extract, it slips (inexplicably) from my grip and lands in the chocolate, emptying nearly all of its contents in said chocolate. GAHH! I pour out what excess extract I can and then just stir in the rest--probably closer to a Tbsp than a tsp.

8. Pour over milk chocolate. Spread.
Using my peppermint-stained hands, I pour the white chocolate over the milk chocolate.

4. Sprinkle crushed candy canes.
I decided to use non-traditional candy canes. They are the butter mint type canes that are softer and yummier. I expect they will be simple enough to crush; however, they are harder than diamonds. I use the following tools to crush the canes: rolling pin, spoon, ice cream scoop handle, different spoon, garlic press. Meanwhile, I hear George Bailey on the TV about to jump off a bridge and I start thinking he's got the right idea. However, by alternating tools and positions, the canes become sufficiently crushed after fifteen minutes. I have sore arm muscles the next day. Seriously.

5. Chill.
Finally!

6. Enjoy!!!
At this point, I can't make any promises.

In many ways, my Peppermint Bark experience is a metaphor for the past year. Amazingly, the peppermint bark turned out pretty good in the end despite the tribulation. And I learned a lot about myself in the process. And it cost way more money than I expected.

The rest of our Christmas festivities were wildly successful. More to come on that later.

Month Six

2010-12-22T09:53:00.000-08:00

I'll let the pictures speak for themselves.

The Only Time I've Ever Been Grateful for a Diaper Explosion

2010-12-14T13:36:00.000-08:00

I was terrified to fly back to Texas from Utah. I was alone with my little baby, and even though she had been on a plane four times before and had slept soundly through each flight, I was paranoid that this would be the flight she'd decide to scream inconsolably and flail around, smacking the other people in my row with her uncontrolled limbs, earning me glares from the flight attendants on behalf of all the annoyed passengers. Maybe it was the stress of being away from Roo, but the thought of this plane flight literally kept me up at night in the many weeks before. I made it a high priority in my daily prayers. It was like, "I'm thankful for Jesus. Please bless that Esmé will sleep through our flight home. I'm thankful for food."

So the day came. We said tearful goodbyes to mom. Hefted all our junk through security. We paced through the terminal. We walked down the jetway. We sat down. The baby seemed pretty cool with everything up until that point. She just jabbered away and tore up our copy of Skymall Magazine. And as we were taking off, I fed her a bottle and she drifted away peacefully in my arms. I was so relieved! I settled in and thought about awesome it is when God does what you ask him to.

And then half an hour later, she woke up. We still had two and a half hours left! Despite how strongly I willed her with my mind to go back to sleep, she started arching her back, squealing, and reaching for everything within her tiny arm's length. She wanted to move around, but I was stuck in my seat. I could foresee a meltdown on the horizon. Within the next two hours, I would learn to be grateful for three things which, previously, I had never, ever been grateful for:

1. About fifteen minutes after waking up, Esmé had a blowout. I heard (and felt) (and smelt) the ominous rumble in her pants. And then slowly the foulness began to seep through her shirt, through her pants. Now normally this would be really crappy (literally..ha, ha), however the mess necessitated a trip to the lavatory. I spent the next 15 minutes struggling like a contortionist in the tiny bathroom to take off her clothes, clean her up, (I won't go into detail. Suffice it to say, it required a lot of effort. A fire hose would've been helpful.) try to wash out the clothes, etc. Why was I grateful for this episode? Because it took up time. Time I would've otherwise spent wrestling the baby in my seat. So I was grateful that the poop gave us both something to occupy ourselves for a while.

2. I had a talker sitting in the row ahead of me. You know how there is, without fail, a non-stop talker on every single flight? Not only does that person talk non-stop, but they speak at a decibel level just above "jet engine" on the decibel scale. Normally I loathe the talker, but during this particular flight our talker provided valuable background noise. Meaning, because she was talking so loudly and at such a constant rate to the guy across the aisle from her, she actually drowned out the noise little Esmé was making. Not only that, but because I am an unabashed eavesdropper, this woman gave me a good two-hour's worth of juicy, true-life drama. She covered every subject from the South American drug trade to suicide, prescription drug abuse, Mormons, child-rearing, and the weather--all of which she had abundant personal experience with.

3. The woman sitting next to me was very friendly. Though that's not something I particularly dislike, I have to admit that I usually prefer to let a polite smile be all that passes between myself and the stranger in the seat next to me on flights. I don't want to talk. I'm a curmudgeon that way, I guess. But on this day, I was saved by my friendly companion. The funny thing was that this woman couldn't even speak English. She knew enough to tell me that she was from Vietnam and that she lived in Houston. But what she couldn't say with her words, she told me with her actions--she was the sweetest lady ever! First of all, she offered me one of her mints. Then, she was so interested in Esmé--but not in a pushy or creepy way. When the baby got restless and difficult to handle, this woman would smile at her and try to play with her and distract her. While I bet most of the people on that flight would've hated sitting next to us, this woman was so patient and kind. She helped me buckle my seatbelt, pick up things I dropped, she even offered to take Esmé for a bit to give me a break. Esmé was very interested in the lady and smiled and laughed with her. I've learned that airline travel is where you can see the worst and best of humanity. That day I was so grateful for this sweet, friendly stranger.

Needless to say, you can learn a lot from difficult circumstances.

I couldn't stop smiling once the plane landed. We got off. Then we met Roo in the airport. That was a great reunion.

Here's Roo seeing Esmé for the first time in seven weeks:

Come on In!

2010-12-10T19:49:00.000-08:00

Well, we've settled comfortably back into life in Texas with the greatest of ease.

So I'd like to take you on a little tour of our equally little home.

Here is the family room:

(For a little extra fun, see if you can spot the tiny baby throughout the house--she's like our own little Waldo, minus the striped cap and the cane.)

The dining room:

(Did you find the baby? This one's tricky!)

The kitchen/laundry room:

Waldo--I mean, Esmé's--room:

We got the crib, mattress, and bumper for a screamin' deal of $75!

Roo's bathroom:

Our bedroom:

Annie's bathroom:

This completes our tour. Next time, feel free to stop by and try looking for Esmé in real life. Then you can babysit.

13 (by: Roo)

2010-12-04T07:48:00.000-08:00

A conversation and more between Roo & Annie.....

Morning:

Roo: Good morning Annie.
Annie: Good morning Roo.
Roo: Want to hear about my dream last night?
Annie: Sure
Roo: I gave Esme the Holy Ghost (at age 5 months).
Annie:

Evening:

Roo: Annie, do you want to hear what I was doing with my life at age 13?
Annie: Umm, is it depressing?
Roo: I didn't have any friends. I spent most of my time on the
computer. I downloaded the Anarchist's cookbook and studied how to
build time delay fuses. I built Star Wars models, and I watched Star
Wars hourly, with an occasional viewing of the movie Hackers.

Annie: (Laughing or crying, not sure).
Roo: (Defensively, and to restore some dignity) But I could beat
anyone at any sport if they dared to challenge me.

Annie: Wow!
Roo: Well, let's hear about your awesome life at age 13 then!

Annie: I didn't have any friends. All I did (and all I wanted to do)
was stay in my bedroom, do jigsaw puzzles, and listen to Celine Deon
on my walkman.

Roo: (Laughing empathetically) We truly were meant for each other. To
celebrate our lives at 13, let's watch Hackers?!

Annie: Umm, is it... (interrupted)
Roo: Full of e-mischief and totally awesome? Heck yeah it is!

8PM: Start watching hackers
9PM: Stop watching hackers, feel dirty and sick

Roo: Let's go to bed
Annie: Good idea

1AM:
Roo:j....jj...Jj....JJ....JJ!!!!!!
Annie: Roo! What's wrong?!
Roo: (Sweaty, scared and freaked out) Ohh! My dream! I was dreaming
about you....and then you turned into my brother JJ.....and then you
started bashing my head in!

Annie: (Puts her arm around Roo and tries to comfort whilst trying to
forget anything that happened in the previous 24 hours.

What We've Been Up To

2010-11-23T18:34:00.000-08:00

Missing daddy:

Taking baths:

Trying new hairstyles:

Being cute, generally:

Going to church:

Playing with grandpa:

And in one more week, we'll go home to Texas and see daddy again! But we've sure had a good time here in Utah and we're definitely going to miss our wonderful family! (Mommy would've gone insane without them.)

Roo's Accomplishments

2010-11-19T02:06:00.000-08:00

As the great poet Ozzy Osbourne once penned: I was looking back on my life, and all the things I've done...I started to do the same. This is what I've come up with so far.

0. Climbed to the highest place in contiguous US: Mt. Whitney, CA.

1. Set foot in the deepest lake in England: Wastwater, the Lake District.

2. Passed through the lowest, hottest, and driest place in North America: Death Valley, CA.

Some other more life changing accomplishments that have shaped my character...

3. Enjoyed rides and entertainment in the largest indoor theme park in the world: Ferrari World, Abu Dhabi.

4. Shopped the largest mall in the world: Dubai Mall.

5. Watched friends ski down the largest indoor ski slope in the world: Mall of the Emirates, Dubai. (Sorry, I'm just not a skier).

6. Ascended the tallest building in the world: Burj Khalifa, Dubai.

And from the top of the tower at night:

7. Rode the fastest roller coaster in the world: Formula Rossa, Ferrari World.

8. Saw Twilight 7 times....in the theater. (While this may not be a general record, I challenge any other 28 year old male to admit their dominance in this category).

Some final/general records to help restore my dignity...

9. Married the most beautiful girl in the world:

10. Spawned the most beautiful baby girl in the world:

By the way, if thermodynamics can start a list with zero, so can I!

Some Introspection Appropriate for November

2010-11-08T18:49:00.000-08:00

It was Friday and I was standing in the produce section of the grocery store watching my mother carefully selecting apples. I sighed and stepped one foot onto the crossbar at the base of the cart, pushing the cart like a scooter with my other foot, leaning forward lethargically much like (I realized then) I did when I was 11. So I put both feet back on the ground and continued to await the end of the apple selecting process. That was when it occurred to me that this was literally the most exciting thing I'd done all week--grocery shopping (or I guess I should say, pushing the cart for someone else who was grocery shopping) on a Friday afternoon. And then I started to miss Roo. To keep from plunging into a black hole of despair as such a realization might normally cause me to do, I decided to think about the good things in my life, the things I'm grateful for.

Of course I thought of my family, home, health, country, food, and faith. But since that only got me to the deli meats, I had to delve a little deeper:

1. I'm grateful that after some years of neglect, my retainer still fits. I would've felt really bad if, after paying so much money for my braces, my parents came to visit next year and were greeted at the door by a snaggletooth.

2. Our dogs have gone to live in Idaho with Roo's parents in order to relieve some of my stress. I really miss the dogs, but I am grateful that after a couple weeks of living on the hillside in Idaho, they have yet to be snatched up by eagles.

3. I'm grateful my baby sleeps through the night. I get up to feed her around 4 am, and afterwards I'm too tired to put her back in her crib, so I lay her down in her daddy's spot next to me. Sometimes she lets us sleep all the way until 9 am or later, like a couple of twelve year olds on a Saturday morning.

4. I'm grateful that rash on my face cleared up. And so is everyone who saw me.

5. I'm grateful that ultra-flared jeans are a thing of the past. (Heaven willing)

6. I took the baby to get her shots last Tuesday. I know that for a lot of people, hearing their baby scream after the shots makes them writhe in agony for the child. I agree that it's sad; however, I am grateful that shots make Esmé cry, because if after getting pricked with the needle she started to chuckle, I'd be totally creeped out.

7. I'm grateful that when my day consists of feeding, cleaning up baby body excretions, and pushing the grocery cart for mom, I can think, "Well, at least I've been to Paris."

8. I'm grateful I don't work for someone who says things like, "Think outside the box!" I'm so tired of that phrase. Additionally, I'm grateful I don't work in a mine. Imagine working in a coal mine with a foreman who was always telling you to "Think outside the box!" It turns my stomach!

9. I'm grateful I've never had to eat horse meat.

I could list a thousand more random gratitudes, which is something to be grateful for in and of itself...but you'd probably be grateful if I didn't, so I'll just list one more:

10. I was really grateful that mom would drive all the way home from work to pick me up and take me grocery shopping with her, not only did it save me from another episode of Keeping up with the Kardashians, but it made me think she wants me to be happy and I really appreciate that.

Happy Halloween

2010-10-31T20:38:00.000-07:00

That's a fact!

A big difference between 12pm and 2pm!

2010-10-29T08:31:00.000-07:00

Today I went on a little excursion that started with a taxi drive from the mall to the Grand Mosque. My driver being from Nepal, had no reservations in taking me there, nor alternative site seeing suggestions for a sunny Friday morning in this primarily Muslim region. When I say "primarily" I really mean that I am not a Muslim, and everyone else here is. The Grand Mosque is the 8th largest one in the world and is the largest in UAE. So naturally, any Muslim in the area that can go to the Mosque during Friday morning prayer....does. Me and about 5,000 Muslims decided to visit the Mosque today. When I got there I was amazed at how big it was and how many Muslims kept pouring into the complex. I started to walk into the main courtyard (you know, like you walk like you know what you're doing and so people think you really do) and I was immediately spotted as a "high potential to be a non Muslim." I guess my fair skin and huge camera around my neck didn't help my charade. I "thought" I was told that prayer time is only for Muslims until 12, and that I had to wait outside the courtyard. Well, it was only 11:50AM so I had no problems walking around for a few minutes. Meanwhile hundreds and hundreds of men continued to pour in. Finally, at a few minutes past noon, I decided to put my camera in the bag and try to blend in. I found myself in the giant sandal covered courtyard. At one end of the courtyard was the main prayer hall that seemed to be everyone's destination, so before they entered, they ALL took off their sandals. There were thousands of sandals. I decided to risk a jaunt, crossing the courtyard in front of the main doors to see if I could get a peek inside....I couldn't. After passing the door I headed back up the other side of the courtyard, which was kind of intimidating. I was the only white non-Muslim camera carrying American walking upstream against hundreds of Arab Muslims. It was actually really amazing to see it. It was very much like Temple Square during conference. I decided to just stand by one of the pillars on the perimeter for a while just to watch everyone come in (and stare at me as they passed). I risked a few more pictures until my curiosity got to be too strong. I built up the courage to ask one of the guys directing the foot traffic if I had to be Muslim to enter into the prayer hall. He chuckled a little and said yes. Slightly disappointed, I returned to my pillar. 10 minutes and 2,000 passers by later, a security guard came running toward me from a distance....I stood my ground. "Excuse me, are you Muslim?" he asked. I thought for a split second to make sure and replied, "Umm, no." He promptly told me that this was Muslim prayer time and that I had to leave, while kind of pulling me out of the courtyard. Apparently I didn't understand my first conversation at the Grand Mosque, prayer time goes until 2PM....not 12PM! I didn't get to see inside the Mosque, but I got to see what I felt would leave a lasting impression. My friend from Nepal was waiting for me back at the parking lot, and we headed back to a place I felt much much more in my element: the mall.

French Fries and Ghutras

2010-10-22T08:11:00.000-07:00

When people travel the world they tend to explore cultures and places to satisfy curiosity, and to expand their knowledge and understanding of others. When I travel the world, I look for Burger King and a movie theater!

My first week at the Schlumberger Middle East Learning Center (MLC) has been organized chaos. The best way I can describe where I'm staying and what I'm doing is to say that it's just like the MTC. I am in a 6 week course with 15 other people (from Mauritania, Saudi Arabia, Poland, Mexico, Ireland, India, and more). I am one of two Americans and we both happen to be Mormon! We all wake up, eat breakfast in the cafeteria, go to class from 8 to noon, eat lunch in the cafeteria, go to class from 1 to 5, then go to dinner in the cafeteria.....together. The primary purpose of the class is to teach us a specific data processing computer program. I get to stay in a single room which is quite nice, although I have yet to figure out what this is for....

Typical meal...

Tuesday was a day off so we were all able to leave the MLC compound. Yes, it literally is a compound with guards at the entrance and a 15 foot wall going around the MASSIVE complex. The shuttle took us to the upscale Marina Mall, from there people went to tour the Grand Mosque, the Emirati Palace, and the beach......I toured the mall. It had tons of great stores, but even more interesting people. Everywhere you look there are immigrant workers (primarily Indian and Filipino I believe) ready to clean, guard, fix, wash, hold the door, check you out, or anything else. I never saw one native Emerati worker. However, there were plenty of Emerati's shopping for Louis Vuitton bags, Gucci Sunglasses, and Rolex watches. Men and woman Arabs were never seen together unless they were husband and wife. The accessorized women would be seen walking the mall and the men would all be hanging out at the water fountain. Of course, all of this people watching made me very hungry, so I decided to scout out the food court. To my delight, Burger King was the main attraction. Yes it had the longest lines, and the most noble of customers (some of which could probably buy up the entire fast-food chain). Burger King is like the LDS church, it's the same no matter where you are in the world. You can never go wrong with a few french fries, especially after having lamb 3 meals a day for a week! I topped the day off with a good movie at the mall with a bunch of guys in Thobes and Ghutras...now that's what I call traveling the world.

*Sigh

2010-10-20T22:29:00.000-07:00

The world felt extra huge today.

One week down, five to go.

A Hamburger Walks into a Bar...

2010-10-16T12:37:00.000-07:00

...and the bartender says, "Sorry, we don't serve food here."

Here's what happened when Esmé heard this joke:

She loves hamburger jokes!

Pure Gold

2010-10-12T12:14:00.000-07:00

The first thing you need to know about us is that we're broke.

These things aren't cheap:

The second thing you need to know is that I have only one piece of real gold in my jewelry collection:

The chain is not gold, but the little bar is. Gleaned from the earth by Roo himself sometime in the late eighties or early nineties. They used to let kids pan for gold at Knott's Berry Farm. So while the other children rode roller coasters and ate cotton candy, Roo was busy increasing his net worth by panning for gold. He scrupulously collected and saved every fleck of gold he could find and, along with some of his mother's old rings, had it all melted down and made into this little gold bar, which he gave to me.

Keeping these two facts in mind, it wouldn't be unreasonable to find us on a Monday evening in a tiny store whose sign promises "We buy gold!"

Undignified? Maybe. Unreasonable? Unfortunately not.

We were both curious to find out how much the gold was worth. I know selling a sentimental gift for cash is pretty desperate, but until sentimentality can pay my hospital bills it's gonna have to hit the road to make way for cold, hard cash. So with this in mind, we strolled into our local grocery store which housed a tiny, gold buying office, fully confident that we were going to come out of there with at least, like, thirty bucks.

As we walked into the store, another customer was already sitting at the counter conversing with the gold man. They both looked up to see us and the customer--an elderly Asian woman--moved over to let us do our business with the gold man. This place was about as big as a generously portioned elevator, so Roo and I and the baby in her carrier spanned nearly the entire store. We hand the gold guy, let's call him the Prospector, the necklace, then we realize the lady customer is still there. Standing right next to us. Close enough that the sight of her crooked, drawn-on eyebrows and exaggerated magenta lip line elicited an involuntary "Gah!". She stood surveying our transaction. Then caught sight of Esmé.

Lady [excited as if she'd only heard of babies but has never actually seen one]: Ahhhh! You have baby?

Roo: Yes

Lady: Oh so cuuuuuute!

Prospector [hands back the necklace]: Its not gold.

Lady [taking both of Esmé's feet in her hands and proceeding to bounce them up and down]: Is boy?

Annie to Prospector: We know the chain isn't gold, but the little bar is.

Roo to Lady: No, she's a girl.

Lady [loudly, as if making a general announcement to us all]: He has hair like boy.

The prospector takes the necklace back, performs this test to prove to me that the chain isn't gold and says: yep, that chain sure ain't gold.

Lady: I mean, She has hair like boy. I have boy so...[she nods]

Roo: Uh...

The Prospector explains the procedure for telling what carat of gold the bar is and starts rubbing the bar on this black slate thing, but we're too distracted by our lady friend who is still bouncing both of Esmé's feet and has now started making kissing sounds at her, like you do to get a puppy to come to you.

Lady to Esmé: Hello! [Kiss kiss] Hello! [kiss kiss]Hello! [kiss kiss] Hello! [kiss kiss]

Prospector holds up his testing slate: So you tell me which one it is.

Roo: Huh? I missed what you were explaining.

Lady: Hello! [kiss kiss] Hello! [kiss kiss] Hello! [kiss kiss]

Prospector: It's the ten carat. Yeah, you've got ten carat gold here. Let me go find out how much we can get for it.

He's gone for a few minutes during which time all that happens is: Hello! [kiss kiss] Hello! [kiss kiss] Still bouncing the baby's feet.

Roo tells me with his eyes that he's going to slap this woman in the face and I'm afraid he's serious so we trade places, making me a buffer between him and our lady friend.

Lady: Hello! [kiss kiss]

Prospector: I can give you twenty five bucks for it.

Roo: No thanks. Let's go!

Lady (remember, she had a heavy Asian accent): Is no gol?

Annie: No, she is a girl.

Lady [pointing to the necklace]: No! Is no gol?

Annie: Oh, uh, no--it is gold, we just want to keep it. (Why am I explaining this to you?)

And then our lady friend contributed the most valuable thought of the evening:

[Pointing to Esmé] Well, this is your pure gol! She is pure gol!

Yes, indeed.

Upon leaving, Roo noted that the gold could've been worth $1000 and he still would've refused just so he could get away from the lady, that she made him feel cold inside.

So despite having spent the strangest ten minutes of the week with the painted face lady and the prospector, and while still being poor, we did learn a valuable lesson--what we lack in actual gold we make up for in 'pure gol':

A Good Decision

2010-10-05T14:09:00.000-07:00

About a week before moving to Houston, Roo's mom asked if we would be willing to take Papa (Roo's grandfather) dinner one night and spend the evening with him. We were right in the midst of moving chaos, organizing schedules and flights and trucks, packing up boxes, de-junking, making almost daily trips to the University of Utah so Roo could finalize his thesis, going to the pediatrician and the veterinarian, constantly changing diapers--in short, we were really busy. My initial reaction to the request, I'm ashamed to say, was that we were way too swamped to do it. Not only did we live forty minutes away, but we had an infant and enough stress to warrant a regrettable but legitimate, "sorry, but we can't."

However, I just couldn't bring myself to say no. When Roo asked if we should go, I decided to say 'yes'. And that was the best decision.

So that evening all three of us made the drive to Salt Lake, bought Papa his favorite clam chowder from Red Robin, and settled in at his home for dinner. Papa was in good spirits. He ate his chowder and asked us how we were. We told him about our plans for moving while we fed the baby and played with her on the living room carpet. He was thrilled just to watch Esmé--it seemed everything about her delighted him. While Papa watched Fox News, we looked at old photos of the family and all the places Papa had been during his 86 years. After a few hours, it was time to go home. But before leaving, we took this picture of us all:

That was last time any of us would see Papa living. He passed away September 29th after a short illness.

We were able to return to Utah for his funeral. During the service, one of his granddaughters remarked how Papa always made her feel special, beautiful. Though I was one of the newest members of Papa's large clan, and didn't know Papa as well as most anyone else at the funeral, I cannot forget how he did the same for me--whenever he'd see us, he would, without fail, comment that Roo had "filled out" quite a bit (which always made me laugh) and he would tell me I looked pretty. It's a small thing to say, but an important one, for me.

We will miss Papa. But I am so profoundly glad that we took the time that evening to see, serve, and say goodbye to Papa for the last time.

A Rooism

2010-09-29T17:31:00.000-07:00

Roo: I think making a seedless watermelon is kind of like playing God.

Random

2010-09-24T14:10:00.000-07:00

Only one of these two people has graduated from college. Can you guess which one? The answer might surprise you...

And now for some outrageously cute baby bath pictures:

(If this post seems a little random, that's because it is. I tried to warn you with the title. If you're thinking "yikes" about that first picture, it's okay--that's a perfectly natural reaction. You're probably wishing I would've warned you about that...)

(by the way, the answer to the question above is me. I'm the one who graduated from college. But the baby's massive forehead made her look pensive and super-intelligent, which I thought might trick some people.)

End post.

Dear Size 2 Waist,

2010-09-15T20:21:00.000-07:00

I miss you and I don't expect to ever see you again.

But it was worth it.

Sincerely,

Annie

What's Not to Like About Houston

2010-09-10T20:04:00.000-07:00

There are a lot of things to like about Houston:
-diversity in people--for maybe the first time in my life, I was one of only two white people in the shopping mall-the other person was Roo.
-diversity in food
-lovely tree lined street with wide green lawns and classic architecture
-you only have to exercise for five minutes before being covered in sweat, making you feel like you've worked a whole lot harder than you actually did.

But there is one thing not to like:

I've killed three roaches in our apartment so far.

This video might give you an idea of how that made me feel.

A Rooism

2010-09-09T08:30:00.001-07:00

Last night Roo was looking through some pictures of days gone by while I was preparing dinner.

Roo: Whoa! We used to be sk---- [trailing off nonchalantly and hoping I don't notice]

I look up from my task. He gingerly meets my gaze.

Annie: Skinny?

Roo [haltingly]: I used to be skinny...

Then I poured some extra cream into the sauce.

Getting Settled In

2010-09-02T19:56:00.000-07:00

In the chaos of moving and transitioning, I've basically lost all concept of time. Most of the past two--or is it three?--weeks are a blur in my mind. So I'll try to reconstruct what has happened using these few pictures:

We got to have a very nice dinner with Roo's parents and Natalee at Ruth's Chris in Salt Lake before we left. Let me emphasize how nice it really was--nice in that we got to visit with the family and also nice as in a side of hollandaise sauce will run you about $14.50.

A few days later, Roo and dad and the dogs drove 1600 miles to Houston while mom and Esmé and I flew. It felt so good to be reunited with all of our possessions which have been locked away in storage for so long! I so missed my spatula...the only one that I own.

Here are the parents helping us move in:

Dad and Roo doing some male bonding over the Ikea dining table construction:

We really like our apartment! Once we get some more decor put in place, I'll give you a tour.

You'll notice the orchid on the shelf--Roo gave it to me for our anniversary along with a copy of National Geographic, which I am love but am too cheap to ever buy. A few months ago, Roo gave me an orchid which died...I think I killed it. Anyway, I was pretty sad to lose my flower, so this little gift waiting for me in our new place really brightened my spirit.

For something fun to do after days of unpacking, we drove to Galveston. The air was heavy and wet and the Gulf water was really warm and beautiful. As you can tell, Roo had a blast:

A few days later, Roo was off to his first day of work. He spent the week in training--the company housed him at a hotel for the week, so we only got to see him on certain evenings when we would meet up. Needless to say, I missed him a lot. Mom and I spent the days unpacking and setting up house. Once that was finished, we went shopping. And after that was over we decided to shop some more. After the shopping, we shopped some more before doing a little more shopping. Then we watched LOST.

I think the dogs are adjusting slowly. Chase spends much of his time standing (or laying) guard at the window:

Lando misses Roo so much. He has transferred most of his affection to his bag of food.

This week Roo is in Tulsa doing more training. All I really know is that he was issued a pair of steel-toed boots and blue coveralls so he could be taught to climb ladders properly and steer out of a skid in a car...just in case things get wild at his office desk job, I guess. We miss him!

Thankfully we have HGTV to keep us company.

Esmé's Blessing Day

2010-08-27T19:41:00.000-07:00

With cousin Ruby

Practicing her Fascist Dictator pose

Four generations

Thank you, Amy, for taking these precious pictures!

Thank You, Strangers

2010-08-24T14:09:00.000-07:00

We have made it to Texas. But before I get to all the details of the move and complaints of how hot it really is here, I just have to write this quick note:

Dear Lady and Guy Behind Me at Airport Security,

Please let me express my profound gratitude for your service to me last Wednesday. I got all the way to the front of the security line before the security guard informed me that I would have to take my baby out of the car seat so I could put it and the stroller carrying it through the x-ray machine. My mom was already waiting for me on the other side and I'm sure the rest of the people in line behind me were rolling their eyes and tapping their impatient toes while I, barefoot and stressed, struggled to pull the sleeping baby out of her seat, and wrestle the monstrous stroller into folded position with one hand (an impossible feat) while balancing my infant with my other hand. You, dear lady and guy behind me, stepped up promptly help me fold up the stroller because all my stroller know-how had suddenly fled my flustered brain. You hefted it onto the conveyor belt. You managed to make the car seat fit through the x-ray machine. "They sure don't make this easy," you said to kindly reassure me. Then once I made it through security you made sure I didn't need any more help before you each walked away into the airport crowd.

You probably didn't know that my husband was 1600 miles away, or that I was moving away from home that day, or that I was nervous and afraid to leave and to fly on the plane with a baby. You didn't know that the last few months have brought more changes in my life than I've ever experienced at one time, that I still feel like a major novice when it comes to being a mother, that my hormones often make me a terrifying wife, and that I almost don't even recognize my post-baby body which is still sporting unflattering maternity clothes. You also probably had no idea that I decided at the last minute to give my cat away to my in-laws the day before, so she moved to Idaho while I moved to Texas. I know she's just a cat, but I'll miss her. And I doubt you knew that it was my 6 year wedding anniversary that day.

Even knowing none of that, you still stepped up to help me get my stroller through airport security.

So thank you for helping me on my way.

Love,

Annie

Esmé's First Trip

2010-08-07T12:29:00.000-07:00

Here are some pictures of our recent trip to Idaho for grandpa Tutu's 65th birthday:

Here is Esmé admiring the new house

Here she is discussing Star Wars with aunt Natalee...and looking a bit like a tiny female Yoda.

She got to meet a bunch of her cousins. Here are Erica and Sadie with Esmé.

And we were all excited to meet Tutu's surprise birthday present and Esmé's newest aunt--Minnie the St. Bernard:

Roo Phillips: Movie Critic

2010-08-02T19:17:00.000-07:00

Since we got Netflix, Roo decided he ought to get some culture and watch the "classics." So with a great sense of obligation and having no intention of actually enjoying these films, he set out on his quest for a greater understanding of American cinematic classics. And he made the rest of us come along with him.

Here are his reviews:

Gone With the Wind

After the first half: That was pretty good.
1 hour and 50 minutes into the second half: Wait, who is Tara? Is that a person?
After disc two: Well, that was pretty much the worst movie ever! Rhett Butler is an idiot. It was like LOST, everyone ends up dead or as good as dead.

Casablanca

"It had some suspense, plus it was...shorter [than Gone With the Wind, I assume he means]...so it was pretty good."

Planet of the Apes

"That movie is awesome! Cornelius the ape is every bit as dreamy as Clark Gable."

I was surprised by Roo's enthusiasm for this movie. In the days since viewing it, he said the phrase "it's a madhouse!" at least once an hour. And he enjoys recalling this [disturbing] scene:

You can judge for yourself if he's right about the ape and Clark Gable:

APE
CLARK GABLE

Citizen Kane

"Well that was depressing. Now I need someone to tell me what it means."

He's made it halfway through West Side Story and I give him a hearty kudos for having made it that far! His main observation so far is that the film reminds him of one long GAP commercial. He also haughtily corrected me yesterday when I referred to the Puerto Rican gang as the Jets. And then he sang, "I want to live in America" for awhile...

So I asked him which film he would consider the best.

Roo: I still like Casablanca the best...and Star Wars.
Annie: More than Planet of the Apes?
Roo: uhh...Damn them all to hell...?

I'm glad he's learned so much about great American cinema.

[None of the above quotes were taken with the permission of Roo]

Why Romanian Cats Are the Most Celebrated Cats in the World

2010-07-31T20:51:00.000-07:00

The video takes a minute to load. Just be patient...

One Month

2010-07-29T18:53:00.000-07:00

This is how someone looks after living with Annie and Roo for three days:
And this is how someone looks after living with Annie and Roo for one month:

Happy one month birthday, Esmé. Thanks for sticking with us!

Face Time

2010-07-22T18:27:00.000-07:00

Since I became a mother, I've gotten really good at interpreting my baby's expressions.

For example:

Annie: So Esmé, what did you think of Iron Man 2?

Esmé:

(Interpretation: While Robert Downey Jr. gave an adequate enough performance, I found the overall plot to be less than compelling.)

Annie: Hey Esmé, what does an elephant wear to the pool? Swimming trunks.

Esmé:

(Interpretation: Mom, your sense of humor is impeccable!)

Esmé:

(Interpretation: I am pooping.)

Slumber On

2010-07-17T08:48:00.000-07:00

This just may be the best baby in the world:

In the nearly three weeks since we've had her home, she has slept through every single night (not counting the night when she was battling dehydration and a potentially life-threatening condition.) We put her in her crib around 10 pm, she slumbers blissfully until 3 or 4 am when I feed her, after which she goes right back to sleep until another feeding at 7 or 8 am. And she really doesn't cry during the night either. I think she realizes it's very unreasonable to be crying when she could be sleeping.

We are all hoping that this pleasant pattern continues well into her twenties--minus the part where I have to feed her at 3 am.
Her exemplary sleeping schedule has allowed her parents to get good sleep, too. I slept so well a few nights ago that I dreamt that Willy Wonka and I were such good friends that I called him "Bill". My buddy, Bill Wonka.

So thank you for letting us sleep, Esmé.

Uncle Bill would be proud.

The Crucible

2010-07-07T13:55:00.000-07:00

It was Friday afternoon, we'd gotten home from the hospital the day before, and I had just laid down, desperate for even ten minutes of sleep. Esmé was lethargic and hadn't seemed interested in eating again so I just decided to let her sleep for both our sakes. Before I could close my eyes, Roo came into the room and very seriously told me not to panic, but that the pediatrician had just called and told us we needed to get Esmé to Primary Children's Medical Center right away--pack a bag as quickly as you can and go immediately, plan to be there for three nights. And for about the fifteenth time since first going into labor on Monday, I started to panic.

Esmé and I have different blood types. This makes her naturally prone to getting jaundice. This problem was compounded by the fact that she wasn't eating--or that I wasn't able to feed her adequately. With her digestive system not running very well, she wasn't eliminating the biliruben that causes jaundice so it got worse and worse during our stay. The doctors were concerned, but by Thursday morning, she had shown enough improvement that they were comfortable sending us all home.

We were so glad to be going home! Roo had had enough of his fold out chair-bed and I was sick to death of the constant activity of the hospital--what I mean is that at least every two hours of the entire day and night there was some nurse or doctor or technician coming in to prod and poke and discuss things with me. I hadn't slept more than one hour at a time since my sixteen hours of labor. If I didn't get out of there soon, I was going to break some arms!

So on our first evening home, I attempted to feed the baby and planned to get a nice, satisfying rest that night. The feeding did not go well. And then Esmé started to cry. And cry. And cry. And then scream. And then I started to cry. And cry. And I probably screamed some, too. This lasted THE WHOLE NIGHT! She screamed without stopping for the entire, endless abyss of that night. I knew something was seriously wrong--either with the baby or with my parenting techniques.

Thankfully, we had scheduled to see the pediatrician the next day. As we sat in her office and she asked how we were doing, I couldn't hold back the tears. I was at my wit's end. The doctor took some blood from Esmé to test her jaundice and told us the baby was probably just colicky and we'd just have to deal with it the best we could and to come back next week if her eating and digestion didn't improve. She sent us home with the unhappy baby and I felt totally forlorn.

It was that afternoon that the pediatrician called back telling us to get Esmé to the hospital immediately. The jaundice was much worse than she thought and it needed to be treated. In the next hour we were watching them hook our baby up to monitors and IV's. I'm sure as the doctor explained what they were going to do, he thought we were two of the most haggard, sorry looking people he'd ever seen. I was worried and scared, I had been crying nonstop for the past two days, and neither one of us had really slept for five days.

This was exactly what we needed, though. Esmé was dehydrated, hungry, and sick. The doctors and nurses were all so kind and caring. They were able to take care of her while we could go home and get our first full night's sleep since Sunday. I was also able to see a lactation specialist who helped me learn how to feed the baby better. After three days there at the hospital, Esmé got back to full health, and I felt like Roo and I had regained our sanity and were now ready to take on parenthood.

In our time home since, Esmé has slept through the night like an angel. She is a calm and happy baby with a very grateful mother.

Introducing Esmé

2010-07-07T13:47:00.000-07:00

Our baby, Esmé Lorraine Phillips, was born just after midnight on Tuesday, June 29th. And as I was laying there in the delivery room, exhausted and a bit delirious, my nurses and doctors and mothers working and hurrying about in the chaos, I couldn't believe how what I had just been through could be at once so terrible and so wonderful.

Here is the story:

Esmé decided to start her trip to earth on Sunday night, the 27th. I had some small contractions throughout the night--they were a little uncomfortable, but not so bad that I couldn't sleep. Because I had never before had any contractions throughout the pregnancy and because I was completely fed up with my fat feet, I felt especially excited that the end could be near.

Monday morning I had my first real, painful contraction which tempered my excitement somewhat because it hurt like sin. After about an hour, we decided to relocate to a relative's house in Salt Lake so we could be closer to our hospital once the contractions got closer together. By 12:30 pm the contractions were coming close enough that we headed to the hospital. As Roo wheeled me into Labor and Delivery, the realization of what was about to happen really dawned on me. I was afraid and in pain and quickly brushing away my tears while they checked me in and had me fill out the paperwork.

Once I was settled in my room and my mom had arrived, I started to feel better. Once the anesthesiologist came around, I felt even better. We spent the next few hours watching the contractions peak on the monitor and being enormously grateful that I couldn't feel any of it. When I arrived, I was dilated to a 4, and three hours later I was at a 7, so we all cheerfully anticipated that the baby would arrive in a few more hours at the most. Piece of cake.

However, once my body got to a 7, it decided to stop progressing altogether. And speaking of cake, I had not eaten since dinner on Sunday and my stomach was screaming at me--I was starving and weak! Each time the nurse came in and told me I wasn't progressing made me feel a little weaker and more anxious. By late afternoon, the doctor broke my water, assuring me that this would definitely speed things up. I don't think any of us anticipated that it would take a further six hours. Nor did I anticipate that the epidural would wear off. In the time it took to get to a 10, the medication would dull the pain on only one side and the intense pain was starting to come through. Even after getting a pain killer on top of the epidural, I was incredibly uncomfortable and had terrible stomach cramps and a headache for about six hours. As you might imagine, my emotional state was equally unstable and starting to lose patience and hope as the nurse repeatedly came in hour after hour telling me that I was still at a 9.

Finally, at 10 pm it was time to push. This is when I started to really panic because I was completely exhausted and now they were asking me to run a marathon. I was too numb to actually feel what or where I was supposed to be pushing, but not numb enough to not feel the intense charlie-horse-like cramps in my stomach. Then I threw up all over and cried because I was so embarrassed. I also developed a fever. I was in agony. This lasted for two hours. By then it was Tuesday morning and all the breathing exercises and focus points I'd been taught to help me get through labor had been long forgotten. I had seriously started to question whether anything could possibly be worth this and whether I could actually do this without dying. But finally after some intense pushing and intense cutting on the doctor's part, little Esme was born. She was 7 lbs 14 oz and 20 inches long.

I was too exhausted to do anything but cry. Esme, however, was not crying. She was completely tangled in the umbilical cord and I could see the doctor frantically trying to free her. He managed to get her untangled and the nurses took her away.

I couldn't believe it was over. From my first contraction Monday morning it had been sixteen long hours. Probably the worst sixteen hours of my life. But as I laid there and looked at my little baby, I knew they were the most important hours of my life so far.

Photographic proof of how beat up/delirious I felt