Grandma's Posterity will appreciate this

Meet Grandma Flegal. We are the luckiest little family to be living with her.(photo taken fall 2006)

In the fall of 2006, Andrew was deep into his junior year of college. Eliza and I spent many nights alone. To ease the loneliness, we'd spend an evening or two upstairs with Grandma Flegal. It was during this time, that I introduced her to the game show, "Deal or No Deal."

A year and half later, she still watches it. When a "wholesome," likable contestant is featured, she quickly speculates that,

"They must be a member of the Church."

I feel confident that this program is the only show, other than the news, that she watches that isn't on PBS/KBYU... until last night.

After eating dinner with her, Andrew and Eliza headed outside to mow the lawn. Not wanting to "eat and run" I made a choice. It was time to introduce her to something else, something more addicting. In the words of Ryan Seacrest,

"This is..... American Idol"

I have a tendency to 'over-explain' and 'repeat unnecessary information' (shocking, I know) to make sure that the person gets my point. I like things to be clear. So after I explain to her the shows process and content, I turn to channel 13 to indulge in one of my weekly pleasures.

While rinsing a dish, Grandma asks,

"American Idol, eh? Is this where that Hannah Banana came from?"
Knowing exactly who she is referring to, I begin to laugh.

"No Grandma, Hannah Montana is a product of the Disney Channel."

Minutes pass and before you know it, we're watching Jason Castro perform. Despite her extreme disapproval of his dreadlocks, she says,

"Now, he's a good looking kid."

"You think so?" I reply. "My Mom thinks he looks like John Travolta"

"Oh." She says. After processing through her amazingly accurate and intact memory she realizes,

"I don't know who John Travolta is."

I knew she was pure in heart, but this was truly surprising.

"Grandma!! You don't know who John Travolta is? Have you ever seen the movie, Grease?"

She shakes her head 'no'.

Although I've never seen the film (it might be rated R), I say,

"I think he's in Saturday Night Fever."

A moment of silence passes before she innocently questions,

"When is THAT program on?"

Goodness, I love Grandma. Although she isn't mine biologically she treats me like I am. I lost my Grandmother's way too soon, so to feel nurtured by Lois Flegal has been one of the greatest gifts of my adult life.

Why I love Grandma:

• She's my friend. She confides in me her worries and allows me to do the same.
• If Andrew and I disagree over something trivial, she'll side with me (*snicker).
  
• She's over protective like I am.
• She's not satisfied with a visit unless she's had the chance to fix you something "good" - my personal favorite, her homemade popcorn.
• Her work ethic is amazing. She spends a long part of her day outside, working in her yard. Her knowledge of roses, gardening, etc is astounding.
  
• She's a romantic. She dreams of Grandpa Flegal and is quick to tear up when sharing with you the dream or when she's sharing a memory.
  
• She has the biggest heart I know. She loves and talks highly of each of her Grandchildren (and great). Her example assures me that it is possible for God to know and love each of us individually.
• Her sense of humor... there's no one more fun to laugh with.
  

Grandma Flegal, Halloween 2006

Can't Be Trusted

Saturday morning, Eliza wakes up and says "Uh-oh, Ear." It was apparent that her pink-eye, runny nose combo invited a third member to the party - an ear infection. Thus, our weekend began with a trip to the doctor's office. Andrew opted to stay home with Henry. Feeling rushed, I asked (borderline bossed) Andrew into helping us get out the door.

*Ali's status: feeding the baby

"Andrew, can you grab the diaper bag?" I calmly request.

Surprised and annoyed he replies, "Diaper bag? What do you need the diaper bag for?"

"I need my keys, wallet, insurance card, cell phone, - etc..." I inform him, slightly exasperated. Trying to justify each item was a waste of energy. Even if I explained each need, he wouldn't understand. Men.

Testing my patience further he suggests, "Well, don't you just want your purse?"

"Please. Just get the diaper bag"

"Why?"

"Honey, I use the diaper bag as my purse when I have the kids with me. And please put in a thing of wipes and diapers."

Mocking me for being 'over prepared,' he proceeds to fill the diaper bag as I finish burping the baby. Moments later, Eliza and I are out the door.

...............................................................................

15 minutes later... Doctor's office, waiting room

I notice Eliza squatting behind the fish tank. A moment later she loudly declares,

"UH-OH...PEEEEEWP (poop)!" as she points in between her legs.

Internally I think, "Ha, Andrew! My nagging paid off." I begin to rummage through the diaper bag as I awkwardly smile at the other parents staring at me - waiting to see how I resolve Eliza's 'situation'. Panic replaces awkward smiles as I realize that my DEPENDABLE other half packed Henry size diapers only.

Was this his idea of a sick joke?

Oh man. What do you do? Luckily, Eliza has assigned pee as being "poop" as well. She wet her diaper. That was all. She can endure a wet diaper for the duration of her appointment. Silently, I express gratitude through prayer. Thankfully, I was spared asking another Mom if I could bum (pun intended) a diaper off of them.

For those who care about the mundane happenings of our life, here's a slide show. It's been awhile.

Ali in Real Life - Part Two

I applaud the brave souls that recently shared with me a concern from their life in hopes (possibly false hope) of obtaining a scrap of wisdom that will help mend their wound or improve their situation. You've made yourselves vulnerable by allowing me to publicly dissect your issues - whether they're semi-serious or a complete joke - I find that admirable.

I think I'm ready to tackle today's self made assignment.

1. I've chosen a question to address.
   
2. I have the "Eye of the Tiger" playing in the background to give me confidence.
3. My piece of "advice" is nearly formulated in my brain.
4. Henry's fast asleep and Eliza's on her second round of breakfast.
5. And for that "extra" touch, I am wearing my glasses.
   

All I'm missing is my cup of coffee. It's a shame I don't drink coffee, otherwise my fantasy of being a wanna-be "Dear Abby" would be complete.

For the sake of keeping my readers identities private, I'm going to go all "Sleepless in Seattle" on you and create something new. However, if you're totally nosy (like me) you can click on their name in yesterday's comment section to learn more about them.

Time out: I need a pseudo name. I can't live in the shadow of Dan in Real Life... or Abby's. Any thoughts?

For now, I'll reluctantly be simple, ole' Ali

Dear Ali: I am extremely sunburned on my back, shoulders and upper arms. It makes it very difficult to get dressed since anything that touches those areas causes me to scream in pain. So, how do I get dressed?

Dear Crispy Bacon,(It was either 'crispy bacon' or 'roasted turkey' - but i couldn't escape the above image, so we went with the first option).

Considering your state of constant pain, it seemed prudent that I address your question first. Due to my transparent shade of skin, I have a theory that I directly descend from a group of Welsh albinos that pulled handcarts in the 1850's. Based on my genetics and personal experience of turning my skin into beef jerky, I would say that I'm somewhat of an expert in the sunburn department.

I advise that you don't get dressed. Wear your swim suit. Who knows, you could start a hot new trend at your local PTA meetings. Your under-roos are light weight and can easily be managed for daily changes.

However, if your opposed to this idea (I can't imagine why you might be) and are insistent upon wearing clothes, I recommend sucking on something, preferably chocolate, while you dress to help tone down your pain induced scream. And if that doesn't help, you can always go the old fashioned route and douse yourself in aloe vera.

In the future, Crispy Bacon, don't underestimate the power of those UV Rays. Sticking with a SPF 185+ hasn't failed me yet.

Ali in Real Life ... play along with me.

*** Note to reader: I don't want to overshadow Henry's photos by posting another blog to quickly, so be sure to take a looksie at yesterday's post if you haven't already. He's too cute to pass up.

It's a good thing my Dad continually forgets to check my blog because today's post mentions the phrase, "electric breast pump" - yikes.

My frequent and unpredictable nursing sessions with Sir Henry, combined with an intense loathing for my breast pump machine, has caused a strain on my relationship with our local movie theater.

Following Eliza's arrival, the breast pump and I had an unnatural bond that was built on anxiety, necessity and pain. I turned it on once after Henry was born and approximately 3 seconds of listening to that heinous noise, those feelings quickly resurfaced. I vowed right then and there that I will not be using that machine again. Ever.

What does an electric breast pump sound like? A donkey; a sick donkey "hee-hawing" in pain. Because it's in labor.I'm not opposed to formula, but being without a dishwasher has made me slightly anti-bottle. Not to mention, formula is expensiv-o. And so, dear reader, until my desire to see a flick supersedes my laziness and detestation for my breast pump, all movie viewing needs will be met by red box.

We scored with our latest red box rental Dan in Real Life

I really liked it. However, I did detect a large dose of Michael Scottness during a scene where he tells the cop to put his second speeding ticket on his "tab" which was then followed by a classic, "Michael Scott" grin. But since the Office has returned, I was okay with the reminder.

I've found myself thinking what a great job his character Dan has. He writes for a living. And gets paid for it! He shares his opinion, offers advice - And Gets Paid For It - all the while, he has the freedom of doing this in his pajamas.

SIGN ME UP.

Here I sit with my disheveled hair piled on the top of my head in a granny bun... a hair style that makes my husband's toes curl. I am wearing a fire engine red XXL Teraflex t-shirt with sleeves that nearly reach my elbows. My pants definitely have an elastic waist. They're black, covered in spit up and expose my calves that haven't been shaved since who know when.

I'm the living definition of a woman who has momentarily let herself go. On the days where I do make my appearance a priority, my husband quickly comments on how "fresh" I look. He then begins to compare me to a fresh piece of fruit that he'd be attracted to buy at the grocery store. It's okay, I'm still trying to figure that one out too.

So back to my desire to be Dan in Real Life... I have a request. Will someone leave me a comment (it surely can be anonymous) detailing a personal crisis or problem that you want me to solve? I'll then dedicate a future post to doing so. I'm totally uneducated and am a non-professional, but humor me. This could be funny, or not, but that's a risk I'm willing to take. I'm all about self humiliation. Make up the problem if you want, just keep it rated PG.

Gee thanks, this could be fun - if someone chooses to participate. By all means, don't make me post anonymously on my own blog. That would just be tacky.

Savanna Tate Photography

The term "shout-out" feels completely wrong coming from my lips, but that's exactly what this blog entry is: An Online "Shout-Out" (I just can't pull that phrase off) to tell you about the talents of Savanna Tate!
I think other Mom's would agree that it's important to have your baby photographed often during their first year of life. These shots of Henry were taken at four weeks and already, at six weeks, I can see that he has changed.

Since I've been in a list-making mood, allow me to share with you the reasons why I highly recommend working with Savanna to capture the moments that matter, the moments that pass too quickly (that sentiment should be on a Hallmark card).

• In the past, our professional photos have been taken at department store studios (ie: Target). The idea of taking my two children to the store, unaided, makes my arm pits sweat. Those photographers are on a schedule, so in the past, I have felt rushed or frustrated when I've waited for my appointment to start. With newborns, you have to expect the unexpected - spit up, diaper blowouts, an emergency need to eat RIGHT NOW (or else everyone who hears me crying will assume you're a horrible mother), etc. Meeting with Savanna, the environment was relaxed. She is a Mother herself and can relate and adapt to stressful surprises.
  

• Savanna assured me from the time I walked through the door that we weren't rushed. If Eliza needed attention or Henry needed to calm down, it was fine. The calm environment, coming from an understanding Mom, eased the frazzled nerves of a sleep deprived Mom.
  

• I was given a disc of photos from our shoot. I didn't have to choose five minutes after the session was over which ones I wanted printed, how many, what size, etc. I'm a poor decision maker when I feel pressured - not to mention, how are your kids holding up while you sit through that process of deciding? Thanks to Savanna, I can choose to have select favorites printed on my own and I get to take my time doing it. My Mom can pick and choose the ones she wants. I don't like making that decision for her.
  

• Your children will love Savanna. She is so likable. She'll be able to pull out the best expressions and works well with busy, busy children who don't want to sit still.
  

• And finally, Savanna is gifted. She has the "eye" for all things artistic and beautiful. Her graphic design work is likewise impressive.
  

Her work speaks for itself. Check out her website:

www.savannatatephotography.com

Happy Birthday Andrew!

Happy 25th Birthday to my Best Friend. I love you Andrew.25 reasons why I'm incredibly lucky

(I felt limited only naming 25)

1. Six words: Work ethic, work ethic, work ethic
2. He has the ability to balance genuine humility with self confidence. I admire that.
3. Playful: He let's me play connect the dots with the moles on his face.
4. "Mr. Fix It" wishes he had the skills that Andrew has. Andrew built/welded on a new bumper to his four runner yesterday.
5. 65 seconds after he returns home from work or school, he delves into his role as father and helpful husband (it would be an immediate thing, but we have to allow him sometime to run to the bathroom).
6. Outdoors man: Nature is a place where his spirit recharges. It's a place where he feels entirely at ease.
7. If he gave into my pleading and auditioned for Survivor - he would be the "go to guy" for all things survival... fishing, fire building, shelter designer, etc... he would fail at the backstabbing/sabotage aspect of the game.
8. After defeating me at a round of paper, rock, scissors, he'll STILL change the poopy diaper.
9. He's my protector. Despite my personal loathing of guns, he handles them safely and responsibly. Don't let his glasses fool you. He's tough, firearm or not, he could beat up your dad.
   
10. He let's me call him Edward (Cullen).
    
11. He's a sentimental fool and I love it. I have frozen in my memory the expression on his face as I delivered my children. Considering what's happening, you'd expect him to be retching in the corner. Instead, I'll remember his eyes full of tears, an angelic smile encouraging me to continue... and finally a whisper of "Thank you, Ali" as he kisses my forehead.
    
12. His tabernacle of clay is flawless.
    
13. Speaking of his great "build"... I find comfort that his skin is nearly as white as mine. He has seven pounds of leg hair that hides his white legs, but trust me, underneath it all, he glows in the dark.
14. Lucky for me, he forgives easily and never holds a grudge. If I'm holding onto my bad mood, he urgently tries to resolve the problem.
    
15. He's never raised his voice at me or our children. Ever.
    
16. Powerful trucks/motorcycles make him cry... which in turn, makes me laugh.
17. Regardless of the fact that I have a muffin top and an occasional second chin, he makes me feel beautiful.
    
18. Sense of humor - we laugh all the time. I don't know if anyone else appreciates my sense of humor the way he seems too. He either thinks I'm funny or is really good at pretending that I am.
    
19. Andrew is easy to be with... it's a true gift when you're able to be yourself, without any reservations. Being with him is natural. Do you believe in "soul mates"? If there is such a thing, I found mine in Andrew.
    
20. He's family oriented... even with a demanding newborn, he talks of future children. The other night, I asked him what the best part of his day was. Without hesitation he replied, "Playing with Eliza, making her laugh." Last night we argued over whose turn it wasto read Eliza her bedtime stories. He fully participates in singing her bedtime songs, actions include. My children's greatest blessing is their dad.
    
21. He's a worthy Priesthood holder. He lives the gospel. Genuinely, he's a good person.
22. Andrew doesn't speak negatively about people.
23. He compliments my cooking - if you knew how limited my skills in the kitchen are, you'd know why this made my list.
24. Did I mention how incredibly attractive he is? That makes living with him a truly pleasant experience.
25. He cultivates the many gifts he's been blessed with.
    

Happy birthday Andrew. What a treat it was to spend the entire day with you and our family. I love you.

It Began with a Love for Legos

Ladies and Gentleman (pretty sure, I have one male blog viewer), on behalf of my husband, allow me to introduce you to the project that has been the center of his college universe for the past year.

Presenting, the Human Powered Off-road Vehicle, aka the HPOV, and the engineering masterminds behind it's creation.
If you want to know what I think, they should have properly named the HPOV. How about a name like: Rodney, Bertha, Captain Kangaroo or my personal favorite:

"My Secret Girlfriend that I've been spending all of those late nights with this past semester."

Alas, it's not my project. I don't have a personal relationship with it other than it's the reason I've been a single mother for the past 3+ months. Oooh, watch yourself Ali... you're border line complaining. Forgive me.

As I mentioned already, last Saturday we spent the day peddling and pushing the HPOV up and around Little Moab.

Photos Courtesy of the talented and wonderfully pleasant Emily Phillips (she didn't request the recognition, but she certainly deserves it)

Eliza was eager to offer her expertise and assistance in between collecting rocks and scooping dirt into her pants.
The next picture offers a view of ... well, I'm not sure what you'd call that. Er, um... some type of mechanism involving metal. Andrew, you should have handled the text of this post. I have no clue what I'm talking about.Holly and Tyler zoomed down a steep part of a hill. Prior to their departure, we speculated on the safety of this obstacle. Are the breaks reliable? What happens if they roll? Why on earth aren't they wearing helmets? Why is Holly the guinea pig - she's a Mother for crying out loud!?I am pleased to say they survived. But whoa, they went fast. Really fast. I'm also pleased to report that the "oops" featured in the following photo occurred moments before we headed back home. We were grateful that wheel didn't decide to fall off during Holly and Tyler's scenic ride down the desert hill. Again, let us admire the beauty of the surrounding desert... dry, brown, windy, dirt... who needs Hawaii when this type of beauty exists is in your own "backyard"? I think I aced the part of cheering spectator. At one point, Andrew called me a trooper. At first I thought he was talking to his well behaved two year old, but he wasn't. I was thrilled to be outside. I am sure it was a drag for the other adults to have us around, but soaking in that desert environment boosted my mental morale. A note to her daddy:

We're proud of you Andrew. From a silent idea, to endless hours designing on the computer, and finally to the creating and building in a shop - this process has really amazed me. You're brilliant. We're so glad you're ours. Well done! We love you.

To see the HPOV up close and personal (along with 20+ other inventions), you're welcome to attend DESIGN DAY at the University of Utah, Union Ball Room, tomorrow April 17th from 9:00 am-3:00 pm.

And finally - a game. Guess how much it cost to create the HPOV.

Introducing, the future, Mrs. Katie Jensen

Weekend Report:

The weather was fantastic - need I say more? Probably not, but I'm going to anyway.

Friday, April 11th - Henry Flegal reached his one month mark. I can't imagine our family without him... or her.
Saturday, our family spent the majority of our day OUTSIDE (yay!) in the west desert in an area known as Little Moab. Andrew met with his senior design project team to test out their HPOV (Human Powered Off Road Vehicle). The time has not come for me to post photos of their amazing creation, but fear not, I will soon.

In addition to being impressed by the "HPOV," we also enjoyed observing drunk cowboys tip over/roll their jeeps. If I close my eyes and hold very still, I can hear the faint murmurings of their foul language.

Please note the upside-down jeep

Later - way later - that evening, we had a surprise knock on our door. In walked a glowing (seriously, they were all red and shiny with sunburn!), cloud nine skipping (alright, alright - only I skip when I am excited, but I did detect an extra bounce in their step), Brent & Katie claiming they were stopping by to see if "she'd left a jacket at our house" from earlier that morning.

Knowing how ridiculously in love these two are, I about fell off the couch as I "casually" leaned my body over to see if I saw any bling bling screaming "TAKEN" on Katie's finger. Turns out that there was nothing casual about what I was doing. Katie broke the suspense by simply making eye contact with me and nodding her head "yes" with her beautiful smile that I doubt has been removed from her face since the event took place. And here we have the happy couple, sunburns and all. Brent proposed to a very surprised Katie on the top of Grandeur Peak. A word for the wise: don't ask Katie for wedding details. She simply wants to enjoy the moment of having it made official. Details can wait until Mother Teresa returns home from Arizona.

Eliza hasn't been shy in concealing her feelings for her, soon to be Uncle, Brent. She continually surprises me with her open attachment to him. It's highly unusual for Eliza to go sit and cuddle up on someone's lap without an invitation, but for some reason, she is completely drawn to him. As a result, she may be harboring feelings of jealousy that he won't be waiting around for her.

"He Loves Me, He Loves Me...Not"

Ah, my baby girls first heart ache. How do you sleep at night Brent? He probably sleeps quite well knowing that he's found his match. In all honesty, they are perfect for each other. Trite expression, but it's true.

Following church on Sunday, we went to Old Farm to feed the ducks... a tradition that Andrew and I started before our children were here.

An Addendum to the Vaseline Post

The morning following my Vaseline post, I found myself passed out on Eliza's pillow once again. Before giving into the gravitational pull that was pressuring my eyelids to close, I noted that Eliza was laying down next to me, "falling back asleep" (mwah-ha-ha... I wish).

"Mmmmm, sleep!"

Minutes later (I have no clue how long I permitted myself to sleep while she wandered) I woke up to find that she had hauled a few of our couch cushions into her room. Who knows what inspired her to do this. All I could do was laugh. Thankfully, pillows are easier to clean up than Vaseline. Here is official documentation of our first walk with Mr. Wallace (the family stroller). In response to a friend's inquiry, we purchased our stroller from Target. The bonus feature that I neglected to mention is that Eliza's seat is removable. It converts to a tandem stroller. As she gets older, her desire to sit will decrease. The tandem feature will allow her to stand while I push if she needs a break from walking or she'll have the option to sit facing me. Our sweet Henry is four weeks old today. Those four weeks went by quickly for you, I'm sure. As for me, I've been living the SAME DAY (anyone seen Ground hog's day) for four weeks! I have to laugh when Andrew asks, "So what are your plans for today..." The same as the day before - survive (*insert genuine smile). These weeks have been challenging due to less than desirable circumstances (Andrew's constant absence) and sleep deprivation.

However, as far as Henry goes, he is a wonderful baby, but like all babies, newborns are a lot of work. I hesitate to tell you how mellow he is, that he sleeps well and that he is easy to console when he is upset; because as soon as Mother's publicly "brag" about their children, life humbles you with a public diaper explosion or an illness streak... so I'll refrain :)

I couldn't be more pleased with how well Eliza has handled Henry's arrival. I had anticipated a greater challenge, but for the most part she carries on as before. The challenging moments I experience with Eliza are typical of what I was dealing with before. When she decides to "tune in" to Henry, it's nothing but sweet, heart warming interaction. She's a thoughtful helper and finds great delight in each of his sneezes and hiccups.

Finally, I have to say how refreshing and uplifting General Conference was. I haven't attended Church in three weeks... and as Elder Ballard stated, "You can't draw from an empty well." This weekend, mine was filled.

I don't remember what unfortunate moment left me laying on my living room carpet, reeling from exhaustion... but as I lay there, momentarily reprieved from tending to my children, Elder Ballard appeared on TV and began to deliver a message to "young Mothers." I wept. Without my prompting, Andrew took notes. It was another tender mercy.

I agree with Elder Ballard that the joys and rewards that come from being a Mother are made up of small moments. The days are littered with challenging situations, but without a doubt, unexpected moments of pure joy are experienced daily... as an example: waking up to discover your daughter jumping on couch cushions in her bedroom with an enormous smile painted on her face.

Reigning in Eliza's Creativity

Vaseline. That's how my morning began.

What is your primary purpose in using Vaseline?

Some of my thoughts include:

- When you're in desperate need, it may be used as a chap stick substitute. Andrew thinks this concept is entirely disgusting, but the long lasting, natural shade shine (or film) it leaves can be attractive.

- Pageant Queens apparently put it on their teeth so they continually smile. Is that really true?

- Nerd Confession: I used to have a lot of nosebleeds ("No!" I am not a nose picker). To prevent a nosebleed, I would take a swab of Vaseline on a q-tip and moisten my nostrils.

*Gross, I just used the word "moisten." That word should be reserved for describing cake and that's it.

- And finally, medical care. It's been applied to Henry's diaper following last week's medical procedure.

RETURN TO MY MORNING:

Eliza introduced me to TWO additional uses. Each morning she verbally beckons me into her bedroom. After Henry's arrival, I began to plop myself in bed, next to her... hoping she'd let me wake up slowly (or on days like today - continue sleeping) as she plays with her books or my face. It doesn't matter as long as my eye lids are SHUT.

Bad, bad, bad idea. I was asleep in a matter of seconds after greeting her purple pillow this morning. Knowing I was in a disabled state, she took off to Mama's room where she happily discovered the accessible (my bad) Vaseline jar.

She proceeded to use it as her very own BODY paint/hair gel. Thinking that was lovely, she thought she'd share it with our walls. She is charitable, what can I say.

Unfortunately my hands were covered in GREASY petroleum jelly by the time I thought I'd snap a picture of her, so you'll have to use your imagination.

*In OTHER NEWS

I added 18 additional names to my link list this morning of friends/family members who have our blog listed on theirs. I hope no one is offended by my laziness in waiting so long to update. I have been checking these blogs via another person's link.

If you don't want your full name listed for privacy reasons, let me know and I'll happily make the change.

If I neglected someone, I apologize. Leave a comment and let me know so I can add you :)

Snow White sets the record straight

Regardless of the fact that she was calling her by the wrong name, we were excited and surprised when she began addressing her cousin by name, for the first time!