Skunked

As I near my driveway, I am alarmed to see a truck with the word "SHERIFF" emblazened on the side. A moment later, I decode the words "Animal Control Officer," as well. Before my mind has time to run through the list of possible scenarios, G comes racing toward me (and my still-moving vehicle), clad in pj's and bare feet. As I get out of the car, he excitedly announces, "I go to dee baf-room! I go to dee baf-room!" (His best friend's mom is trying to potty train him. I am not on board yet, being eight months pregnant and busily trying to finish our last month of schooling.)
I grab him before he runs into the street to give his report to more passers-by, and we make our way to the backyard, where the "sheriff", neighbors and the rest of our family have gathered.
Soon, it becomes apparent that a skunk has made its way into our empty chicken coop (the hens haven't come in yet for the evening.) He is now trapped, having somehow survived a close-range shot from our neighbor's crossbow. The AC officer intermitently strategizes with Clint and visits with his friends, our crossbow-owning neighbors. (They run the local animal shelter and are apparently on friendly terms with Mr. AC). I thought AC officers came, trapped little critters, then took them away for you.
One hour later, and watching through the window with my little ones, I conclude it is not so simple a process. Finally, as we are finishing up with our nightly prayer and scripture reading, an overpowering stench wafts through through the house and we see Mr. AC carrying a body bag out to his truck.
I put the children to bed, showing them this picture before kissing them all good night. (WARNING: This isn't the bloodiest picture ever, but you may want to skip it just the same.)
(Actually, the one they saw wasn't this gruesome, but I'm sure it still led to some pretty sweet dreams.) Then, I head downstairs where my husband - who has now been outside with skunkie for over 2 hours - comes in. The scent is overpowering, so he obligingly leaves his clothes in the garage and bee-lines it for the shower. (This is reportedly the second streak of the evening; the first occurring just before I came home when G came outside and announced his feat with the potty the first time.)
He goes to the grocery store for me (this guy knows how to pamper a pregnant wife!), we watch a great documentary ("Paper Heart"), and then go to bed. I am occasionally awakened by the need to dry heave; pregnancy super-smell mixed with skunk spray all around and in our house apparently does that to me.
And I hope for a little less adventure tomorrow. :)

Our First Decade

Yesterday marked exactly one DECADE since Clint and I were married. This makes me feel old, proud, grateful, loved, and retrospective all at once. I am grateful for a loving Heavenly Father who led us to each other, and has continued uniting us throughout our marriage. I'm thankful for this truly good & humble man, who is constantly serving me and our children. Clint has always had a calming influence on me. In fact, he was honestly the first guy I'd been around that I ever felt completely, 100% comfortable with. I never felt like I had to have my guard up, and we both never engaged in the "games" that normally go along with dating. I'm not saying we're perfect, or that our relationship is flawless, but it is so nice to feel safe in his love.

photo by Blue Lily Photography

Anyway, we celebrated last week, since Grandma & Grandpa are in CA this weekend. First, we dropped off the kidlets (who were sooo excited about having a sleepover with Grandma & Grandpa!). Then, we made our way to a nice Spanish restaurant in Salt Lake City. The food made me feel completely transported...their seafood & meat paella was seriously heavenly. And, while it would have been more authentic if I continued gorging myself until the plate was clean, i knew no one's feelings would be hurt if i didn't.

From there, we headed home...picking up a movie, some treats & breakfast ingredients on our way. It was nice just to take our time in the store, smooching along the way. A little freedom now and then is a nice treat!

The next day, we sleept in, then feasted on blueberry pancakes, sparkling cider, grapes and orange juice. We took our time getting ready, then dropped by the sporting goods store to rent cross-country skis for the day.


We had a lot of fun (including several crashes... a few of which ended with me laughing hysterically as I tried unsuccessfully to get up.) Clint continued to assure me that bears do indeed hibernate, so I was only on the look-out for wolves and foxes. (Paranoid? maybe a little.)



Anyhow, after a nice lunch, we made our way back to the kids. They had a wonderful time...thanks Grandma & Grandpa! And i always love spending one-on-one time with the love of my life! Here's to many more decades! (well, not too many...i'd really rather go before the dementia hits...)

Daddy's Boy

On one of several car trips today, it was just Gabe & i. We'd dropped off who needed dropping and had some time before we had to start picking up (would've just said picking, but then you might get the wrong idea.) Anyhow, he was just chattering away in the back. I started listening, and realized he was mentioning his Dada. He loves his Daddy, and says all the variations of Dada he can say at his tender age... Da-da, Dad-ee, Da-dee, & Da. He would jabber about something else, but kept coming back to talking about his Dad. I'll admit it, I was starting to feel a little jealous. Why, just this morning, I brought him into bed with me. He practically plowed over me on his way to Clint's side of the bed (Clint was playing church basketball at the time.) He pulled back the covers, calling for Da-dee, then whimpered when he couldn't find him. It took a few more seconds of searching before he finally accepted that Dada wasn't there. Anyway, back to the story. He really began talking a lot about Clint, and I finally decided to look at him while we were stopped at a red light, and see what was prompting this discussion. Did he have his toy phone in hand or was he looking at Clint's coat in the back? As I turned, I saw him flipping the pages of his favorite book:



The pages are filled with illustrations of monkeys and gorillas; and, for once, I was glad he wasn't uttering the scarcely-heard "Mama." :)