Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

A few of us at my office are headed to South Carolina for two weeks of training from the Department of Justice. The thought is that we'll emerge from the training as able trial lawyers.

We had one of my co-workers over for dinner recently who is also slated for the training. In conversation his wife expressed some reticence about the two-week training and the possibility (surely mostly in jest) that he'd be swept away by some of the solicitious eye candy that'd surely be attending the conference and sizing him up.

After they left, I wondered openly to Michelle why she didn't share similar concerns. I expected something from her that both reinforced her trust in me, and also reminded me how dashingly handsome I remain. Instead I got this:

"Oh, I'm not worried about that. I'm just worried about how much you're going to eat!"

Sunday School

She played contented in my arm
And cooed mid my hand's soft caress
I felt to catch her playful glance
And hold fast to her trusting touch.

But I could not hold her tight enough
And the moments hurried past,
unmoved by helpless pleas.
Time would rob me of my little girl;
I missed her already.

House Rules

We had family home evening tonight. Owing to some of the events of the day in our home (which perhaps it'd be better if history mostly forgot), Michelle gave an impromptu lesson on "rules". She'd hoped to have us collaboratively agree to a "No yelling" rule. Once Jared learned what a rule is, though, he sponanteously suggested several of his own:

• Don't kick the lamp
• Don't kick the clock
• Don't kick the computer
• Don't kick the walls
• Don't kick the couch
• Go on the potty
• Don't pee on the floor (this had been suggested previously)
• Don't hit, except for the mean, mean pirates
• Don't throw the big TV

Our home feels much safer now.

Old Habits

It's that time of year.

It doesn't matter what kinds of promises I made to myself in the contrary...With a few minutes to kill during my lunch hour today, my feet made their way to a nearby downtown Ralphs to survey the leftover Easter candy.

I came home with three bags of candy: Cadbury Mini-Eggs, Reeses Pieces, and Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. Each were $1 a bag.

Throw Down

This past weekend, Michelle threw down the gauntlet, sending a message that her cooking needs to be taken seriously.

First there were the birthday cupcakes on Friday. Up into all hours of the night on Thursday, Michelle put together both strawberry and brownie cupcakes. Those strawberry cupcakes, though a little understated, ranked among the best cupcakes I've ever eaten*. The brownie cupcakes were no slouches either.

Saturday night Michelle took it to another level and put together a restaurant quality Mexican meal (that I would've paid money for): carne asada, grilled shrimp, rice, beans, homemade salsa, and guacamole. It's easily in the top three meals she's made of all time.

If that weren't enough, there was the three layer, triple chocolate cake, with ganache filling.

Yes, I know. I was thinking the same thing. I married well (Lots of hours as a missionary tracting hard in the rain -- ask anyone).

Anyway, please, take your best shot at matching Michelle's cooking. She'd like nothing better. Be warned, though, I've yet to meet her culinary equal (except for that one time we went to see Alton Brown). Just make sure I get to taste the fruits of your labors.

*At least one co-worker gave voice to the same opinion. Another, perhaps overhearing those comments and sensing the challenge, brought in her own cupcakes on Monday for no apparent reason. For the juicy details, please email the secret family question to my email address.

Cause for Celebration

I'm 29 years old today, and we're going to celebrate (the 15 or so grey hairs on my head notwithstanding).

A few years ago, as my birthday approached, I had a conversation with Michelle that started down the well worn path of feigning disinterest in any birthday celebration. "Oh, don't worry about it. It's not that big a deal" was the general theme of my remarks. Michelle rebuked me and effectively stated that birthdays are a big deal in our house, and I'd just have to deal with it.

Ever since I've allowed myself the indulgence of looking forward to my birthday, and reveled in the fact that we make a big deal about birthdays in our house.

Conference Chaos

Years ago when I was a missionary in the budding metropolis of Corning, CA (the olive capital of the United States). Soaking in another conference weekend in the chapel, I vowed then that I would attend every session of conference for the rest of my life.

Alas, any hopes of staying true to that promise ended a long time ago. Now, having two little ones, the notion of attending (and even paying attention to) a full session of general conference -- other than the priesthood session -- seems like wishful thinking. As a result over the last few years conference weekend has become a mix of probably uplifting messages that I only catch parts of (and not even those parts not very well) amid a guilt riddled two days where I feel I could've caught more if I'd only exerted myself more. My sense is it's even worse for Michelle -- who doesn't get to attend the priesthood session.

And here's a random conference question I've long been trying to figure out: When I'm watching conference on a delayed schedule, is it as sacreligious as it feels to leave my eyes open during the prayer?