Staircase: a world of wonder.

For the past several weeks we have been graced with my sister Vanessa, her hubs Sam and their cherub Leah. They have since departed, and I must say it was almost as sad separating Leah and Lucy as it was us. They became bestest friends- often conspiring against us, plotting and scheming. I'm afraid to admit our daughter was the one heading up most of the conspiracy. Just before bed seemed to be their finest scheming hour.

Leah has been in one-story, stair-less living quarters her whole life. So, naturally, Lucy was a big show off most of the time. Nessa caught on tape a glimpse of what happened over and over again while they were here. Up and down the stairs. What Lucy won't tell you is that the sore on her cheek is from falling down the stairs. She could get bucked off a horse a million times and get right back on. She is crazy. This is especially for you Grammy and Papa. :)

Tejas.

Birthday Celebration+Dallas World Aquarium+Cougars (previously ranked #20) beating Sooners (previously ranked #3) in new Cowboys stadium+New Birthday Camera+Insanely cute kid= really long post and too many pictures.

We started off the trip at the Dallas World Aquarium. Highly recommend it! (Where do you draw the line when you entitle something an aquarium? Are you really allowed to call it one when there are large cats, monkeys, birds of all kinds and reptiles? Pleasant surprise!)

This kitty took an obvious liking to me. I had a feeling it was the right move wearing those leggings.

Turning 26 didn't really phase me. I cried with 25, but really didn't mind 26. Maybe 30 will be traumatic. But those in-between years don't really feel like much, do they? I guess it helps to remember how many people I know who are lots older than me and way cooler than me too. Anyway, it was a great day. That evening we went to dinner at The Capital Grill. Don't recommend bringing your one year old to a place like this. I almost got in a few full-on fist fights with Lucy in between her chucking my phone and yelling at everyone (wanted to run around). And then I almost got in a few fist fights with people who I thought might have been looking at us and possibly thinking, "Why would they bring a baby to a place like this?" Luckily, she ended up pulling through for us, what a champ. We got out of there scuffle free and with a free dessert. :)

So, can we say the events of this following day were nothing short of monumental? Thought we were going to get spanked. Everyone did. Being in that stadium was unreal. I know Bradford got injured and was out the second half, that's all anyone seems to talk about on ESPN, but what about the fact that we played the entire game without our star running back? And won the game!! Has anyone mentioned that? Give credit.

Lucy was not scared to strut her stuff. Not scared at all.

Dallas treats us well!

*Welcome-to-Pregnancy highlight of the trip*: Running late as we board for our return flight. Flight leaves at 7:30 AM. Not a good time for me. Had been munching on cookies but fighting not to toss them since we woke at 5. Order biscuits and gravy for some absurd reason right before boarding. A full flight. Can't sit next to Jason. He sits behind me, I sit in between two rather interesting individuals with Lucy on my lap. Fighting the need to throw up. The large man I sit next to visibly rolls his eyes and sighs as I sit next to him. Adrenaline pumping. Planning the things I'm going to say to this baby hater. Decide I can't be angry at him the whole flight. Strike up a conversation with him. Immediately realize it's a big mistake. Smell his breath. I could probably smell the pilot's breath from here at this moment in time. Lucy falls asleep on my lap. I try not to breathe out of my nose. He drones about Obama, breathing heinousness in my direction. As a desperate attempt to escape, I throw my head in the opposite direction. Woman on other side of me hasn't looked up at us once. I glance down at the book she is engulfed in. Read one line, "He throws her onto the bed, they know this can only happen just this one time..." Whoa! I quickly avert my eyes, startled and embarrassed. She is sweating and wiping her brow. She is getting hot and bothered squished next to me. I look back at Jason in desperation, with a sleeping baby on my lap, feeling my stomach preparing to empty itself. Jason is fast asleep. I feel anger that he is asleep. I start to pray. Man is still talking about Obama and Texas and power plants and hunting. I keep praying. Lucy starts to wake. I reach back and grab Jason's leg, passing her back to him over my head. In attempt to relieve nausea, I completely inhale the now cold biscuits and gravy, pretty sure without chewing. Another big mistake. Halfway through eating them, I know it's not the last time I will see them. But we are preparing to land, and the fasten seatbelt sign is lit. I pray again. Please let me make it off this plane. Please. As we descend I am unbuckling my seatbelt, ready to dash. We land in Denver, taxi, and I run for it. Make it to the bathroom with not a second to spare. Big time heave, and start to cry. Ugly-face cry, big tears. Call my mom. Receive the necessary nurturing while my husband is getting our stuff ready to board again on our final leg home. Feel a little better but still need to cry. I thank Father in Heaven for getting me to the toilet.

Positive.

I do as of late have the retching to back this up. Otherwise I might not believe it myself. It's true. We will welcome family member #4 sometime in April of 2010. We are slightly surprised. No, we're not asking, How did this happen? But it did happen sooner than we expected. Slightly surprised and slightly terrified (mostly me). And mostly thrilled.

Closet Pillager

Lucy has a special place in her heart for her mother's clothing; specifically her mother's braziers and swimsuit tops. (After all, these articles have held the very keys to her emotional sanity and physical well-being since birth, so who can blame her? Such a sentimental girl.) On any given day, she'll string out 4 or 5 from the closet, one at a time, and model them for all to see. Sometimes struts them individually, sometimes collectively. She's pretty thrilled with herself when she has one on, I will say that. Makes me wonder why I don't feel that cool wearing a bra. I should feel that cool. I'm gonna start.

The Grape Nazi

So I'm standing in the line at the cafe at Good Earth with Vanessa, Sam and babies two nights ago. For those of you not familiar, Good Earth is a health food grocery store with a little cafe/restaurant attached. They serve a few pretty yummy items. I order my item and ask for the fruit bowl as a side, for Lucy. Following is the conversation that takes place:

Me: Could you throw in a few extra grapes in that fruit bowl? She (pointing to hungry child on my hip) has a hard time with the melon.

Grape Nazi: The thing is, if we give you extra grapes, there won't be grapes for other customers, that wouldn't be fair.

Me: (Thinking "Are you freaking serious??") Really??? I'm just saying I got like 2 grapes in there last time and I'd like a few more. For her.

Grape Nazi: Yeah that's usually the ratio of grapes to melon in each bowl.

Me: (Looking over at the fruit behind the glass display, exasperated.) Really. Because it looks like more to me.

Grape Nazi: No, it's not.

So, maybe I should feel fortunate that she doesn't yell in my face, "NO GRAPES FOR YOU!!" Instead, I'm pretty much boiling at this point. Are you seriously gonna stand here and bicker with me about this while there is a line behind me?? I wonder how many times she has to deal with that request on a baby's behalf. She must REALLY have to face that challenge often, of knowing exactly how to divide the grapes perfectly evenly between all the selfish grape hogs. Whatever will she do if that dreaded day comes when someone requests no grapes? She then would have a tremendous imbalance and probably would not know just what to do with the surplus. She left the cashier stand and I started to try to count to 10 in my head, but instead I started talking loudly about the atrocity to my sister. It didn't help that during my previous experience at that particular cafe, I ordered salmon, they were out of salmon. I ordered the quesadilla, they said they were out of rice. YOU WORK AT A GROCERY STORE!! How can you be out??? They've chapped me for the last time in a good long while.

I remember one time when I was at Teriyaki Sticks. When the girl rang up my total, I said, "Wow those are expensive. Are they going up in price?" to which she classily replied, "We get the employee discount, so... we don't really care." She did indeed smile at me after saying that, and we stood there and stared at each other for a good awkward 2 minutes. She with that smile, (no ounce of maliciousness in the smile, just clearly happy that she didn't have to pay full price) and I stared at her in utter confusion, believing I had misheard her. I still laugh about that one.

I expect good customer service. I do not feel that my expectations are unreasonable. One of the factors that contribute to this expectation is the fact that I have worked many, MANY positions in customer service. Pretty much every single job I've had, I have dealt with people. And, I do in fact, like to butter them up. Even with the obnoxious or angry ones; by the time they are getting off the phone with me or leaving my place of employment, we are laughing and hi-fiving and they are inviting me to Thanksgiving dinner. And I don't find treating them that way is difficult for me. I do not believe that the customer is always right. I do believe however, that even when the customer is not right and I can't accommodate their requests, they can still leave feeling warm and fuzzy.

Dear Merchant, I do expect for you to greet me and smile. I do expect that you break away from the insanely riveting conversation that you are having with your fellow employee in order to attend to me (the cashier last night at Macy's was talking to the bagger about high school football; did not look at me once while I was checking out and I had to ask for my receipt because he was so enthralled.) I do expect that if I am standing there at the counter and you are on the phone with another customer, you will not talk to them for 15 minutes straight and pretend that you don't see me. You will put them on hold briefly in order to acknowledge my presence there: "I'll be with you in just one moment," and flash me your pearly whites. Are these things really too much to ask??

If wearing your hair in a ribbon is not your thing, if being kind and accommodating and professional is too much to ask, there are hundreds of jobs available that require no interactions with other human beings. And bless your heart, no one will be mad at you for seeking out a position that magnifies your strengths.

Can't waste any more time trying to think of a title for this post.

So the Palmers (Sam, Nessa and baby Leah) are in town for the whole month of August! Sam is on his way to the MBA program at the University of Chicago, so in route from San Francisco to the midwest they've stopped to play for a bit. It has been a glorious jubilation and will no doubt end with the gushing of great tears. I get a big pit in my stomach thinking about them leaving! I wish either one of my sisters lived closer permanently, or I wish I didn't like them so much. I'll probably have to work on the latter since it doesn't look like the first will be happening very soon. I'm gonna really start concentrating on Vanessa's flaws. Now that I mention it, she has really amazing mermaid hair lately. And that can be pretty annoying. Ugh she bugs me so bad. I feel a little better.

A couple weeks ago we headed up for some fun at Thanksgiving Point!

I figured out that goats really creep me out. Ya know how you can look at a dog's eyes and see a soul in there? Lemme tell you I stared this goat in the eye long and hard and found absolutely nothing. Creepy blank eyes. Totally and utterly vacant. And those horizontal slit pupils! If aliens were to take over our planet, I'm pretty sure they would disguise themselves as goats.

After my realization hit me: (He didn't help himself out any by having softball sized testicles).

Lucy's first pony ride. She was a natural. Just after this photo was taken she let dad go and went the rest of the ride doing a hand stand. Who knew?

One of my all time favorite Palmer family pictures. They just look so refined, especially that little lover Leah. Oh, and see what I mean with the mermaid hair? Get a life Vanessa!

This is afterwards at dinner. Pretty unreal the extent adults will go to, but look at these pics! Making yourself a buffoon in public is totally worth it. Pretty soon everyone at Zuppa's was looking at us just like this, watching us in utter delight.

Have you ever seen such an elated plea for an encore?! No, no you haven't.

And lastly, a few more shots from the NorthStar party at Seven Peaks.

Look at those locks. I am obsessed with them. Unfortunately this is right before she face-planted it into the cement on aunty's watch.:( Poor little duck.

Here is Lucy about to get tag-team jumped by two older babies. You can tell by the look on her face she knows trouble is brewing.

Jason takes her abuse any time he can. It's crazy how your whole world can be so condensed into two little people.... or one little person and one big person I guess.

Our summer has not disappointed! Too bad I can already feel fall coming on... fills me with dread and exhilaration all at the same time. Exhilaration because I truly love Utah Autumn. Dread mostly because fall=winter soon.

Only Me.

I promise this kind of stuff only happens to me. Really I promise. So, in my ward (church) my calling is a relief society teacher. (For those of you who are not LDS, the Relief Society is the name of the organization of women- and on Sunday we meet. Pretty much another Sunday school session but for women only.) So, I am a teacher. I teach every 2nd Sunday. Last month I happened to have been given the topic charity to teach on. So, in between flying to Reno for a wedding and going to Chicago on business, we came home for Sunday because Jason and I both have teaching assignments in church. (Literally, we flew home Saturday night from Reno and flew to Chi-town Sunday night.) I'm getting to the point some time soon! First off, right before RS started I ran out and made a dash for the bathroom. As I'm sitting in the stall, I look down and notice, very distinctly, mens shoes in the stall next to me. Not just mens shoes, but a pair of men's feet inside and legs attached. I pause and think... Am I in the mens' room?? Or is there a pervert next to me in the church bathroom? So I sit there quite as a... church mouse I guess... not to be corny, and I wait. Much to my relief I hear the door open and I quickly lean down to look at the legs coming in. Another woman, 2 against 1. So I continue to wait. He flushes the toilet, walks out and I hear her say, "What are you doing in here?!?" He mumbles something I can't understand and then quickly exits. (Not sure if he washed his hands. I know that's the detail you were waiting on.) So I say to the woman from my stall, "Um that was not a woman's voice!" to which she responds, "That was my husband!!" and starts busting up laughing. So I come out, we have a good laugh, I do indeed wash my hands, and I dash back to Relief Society. They are singing the opening song. Just as they are about to turn the time over to me, I realize I don't have any of my lesson material with me! So I have to run out again, back to the bathroom, to find it there. Luckily there it was. I run back again (all of this in high heels, so more of a trot/teeter than a run). I sit down and they immediately turn the time over to me. I have about 40 minutes. So, as if I wasn't frazzled enough by this point, I get started on the lesson. We read a story that illustrated charity, how two men came to Joseph Smith asking for work because they had no food, and he asked them if he could build a ditch. They built it and he gave them two of the best hams he had in exchange. Now what I was trying to say was that the Lord doesn't require perfection from us, and Joseph Smith illustrated this kind of charity here because he didn't go back and closely inspect the ditch, he just gave them his best meat because he knew they were in need and were willing to work hard. I went on to say, "It probably wasn't the best ditch," but what came out instead was, "It probably wasn't the best B$@%#." (What, you've never used profanity while teaching a lesson in church? No, no. I'm sure you haven't.) I put my head down and immediately feel my ears and cheeks start to burn red and the beads of sweat break out on my back. Chuckles run through the room of 40+ women like a wave, many of who are sweet little elderly ladies. "Did that really just happen?" I say. Another wave of chuckles. It took me a good 10 minutes to regain my composure and continue on with the lesson, but the burning ears and sweat beads never really faded. I don't think I have talked to a single sister who was present without hearing something about it, "I was just thinking how grateful I am that wasn't me!!" or, "I couldn't stop giggling the rest of your entire lesson!" among many others. I teach again this Sunday. Maybe I'll see if I can take it up a notch... squeeze in a vulgar joke or something. And I'll blame it on that bathroom lurker for frazzling me.