"Sorry, she must have picked it up from one of those R-rated movies we put on for her."

As usual, Lorin only made it through the sacrament before trying to escape the chapel for nursery. At one point, Mr. T sat with her in the foyer. Also in the foyer was a woman with a very well behaved 5-year-old and a 14-month-old (who was the reason they were out there). Lorin talks a lot now, but probably only half of what she says is intelligible to someone paying close attention. She also tries out new words, plays around with words, and has a typical 2-year-old lisp.

So out in the church foyer, clear as day, she said the "F-word." Twice.

Mr. T tried just to ignore her. The best way to ensure that she would repeat it would be to make a big deal out of it. Plus, he didn't think she'd actually ever heard the word; he assumed she was trying to say something else and just got it wrong.

But the other mother reacted. "What did she just say?" she snapped.

And before Mr. T could brush it off, her 5-year-old helpfully responded: "She said 'F---'!"

Yeah, that lady is not such a fan of ours.

Riding on a train, we're riding on a train. Train ride, a train ride.

We celebrated the Martin Luther King Jr. holiday by riding the light rail from downtown Tempe to Chase Field/US Airways Arena and then back for dinner. It was surprisingly crowded on the way out, but we all got seats for the entire return trip (I recommend a seat if you're holding 30 pounds). Lorin loved the train, so we're planning a repeat trip on a real weekend day.

Check out this zoom action. (Warning, may not be suitable for kids who have not yet had "the talk.")

So, I totally saw ostriches doing it at the zoo. And took pictures. With my 200 zoom.

After some internet research, I pieced together the mating ritual:

Step 1: The male catches the attention of the female by ruffling his feathers and dancing. "Hey, baby, check out my plumage."


Step 2: "The female crouches down on the ground and is mounted by the male." (Wikipedia)


Step 3: Um, yeah, still going on. The female tries not to look bored.


Step 4: Finished, the male dismounts and rearranges that plumage.


Step 5: The female wonders if the male will call her.


Step 6: The male feels so good he chases some giraffes.

I'm thinking roller coasters are out of the question.

Maybe...


Maybe...


Maybe...


Nope, still terrified.


Her sobbing was so bad that the operator stopped the ride and refunded our money.

Backstage during the family photo shoot

All of my in-laws are in town this week, which means family photo time (we used to just do them every other year, but with the recent baby boom we've had to do them more frequently to keep up). The photographer was Michelle Powell (her site here), who was wonderful with the kids (although one kid IN PARTICULAR, LORIN, was not so wonderful with her).

1. Corralling toddlers (thanks, Jax!)


2. Staying not so neat and tidy


3. Nothing's really going on here, I just thought Bridgette's hat was adorable


4. Sisters (I was not the primary photographer - clearly - but I managed to get one glance my way)


5. It takes a village to get a toddler to look at the camera and smile (but worth it in the end)


6. Grandpa pretending to be nine again


7. The reward for being good until right before the photographer pressed the shutter for the shots of the entire group

Dam It

We've driven over the Hoover Dam four times, and before each time I announced that we would stop and take pictures/marvel at this man-made wonder/etc. Except,

- the first time, we were too worried about running out of gas (and it was dark)
- the second time, I was in the back seat calming a crying baby and talking on the phone and didn't even realize where we were
- the third time, it was raining
- and the fourth time? This had to be the charm. The weather forecast was sunny, we were timed to hit the dam in the afternoon, we narcotized Lorin with a portable DVD player, and I had the camera out and ready to go.

Well, we got pictures, but only after waiting an hour and a half to crawl over the dam while thousands of tourists streamed around the cars. Most of our photos were taken out the car window, and we weren't able to stop until well after the dam (and we stopped then only because we thought Lorin needed to be changed. It was a false alarm, though - she gets that from her daddy).




From our vantage point (i.e. the inside of a car), the most incredible sight was the partially-constructed bypass freeway soaring overhead.

Seriously, why won't she just look at the camera?

We rarely get a picture of all of us together that I'm willing to share, usually because one of us is taking the photos. Also because I'm always hoping that some photo will magically transform me into a supermodel (none has yet). I tell myself that I must photograph badly because I refuse to believe that's what I actually look like.

But this photo is okay, even if Lorin refused to look at the photographer the entire shoot.


Photograph taken by Annie Howden.

She took this one, too:


(The one photo capturing Lorin's entire face. The photographer snuck [sneaked?] up on her.)

Holiday Photo Dump

We spent the holidays with my family in Utah, braving the snow (and there was A LOT of it). Here's a smattering of what we did:

1. Lorin checking out Joseph Smith:


2. The lights at Temple Square in Salt Lake City:



3. Lorin opening her presents (she had her own tree at Nana's):



4. Every Christmas morning, we would get a picture of my mom passed out on the couch. The torch has been passed:


5. We were snowed in for almost two days. Here's the driveway before and after the snowblowing and shoveling:



6. A visit to see Mama, my grandmother who is in an Alzheimer's Care Facility. Mama was asleep for most of our visit, during which Lorin was appropriately quiet ("Shhh. Mama sleeping.") when she wasn't exploring the facility's Christmas decorations. But when Mama eventually woke up, Lorin glued herself to the side of the bed, patting Mama's hand and searching her face. She was loving and comfortable in a situation that is generally so hard and awkward for most adults. I am very glad she has had this time with her great-grandmother, brief and imperfect as it is:



7. Lorin playing with the first ornament I picked out myself, when I was her exact same age. It began a decades-long tradition. When Lorin took it off the tree, my mom cautioned her: "Careful, it's an antique." Thanks a lot, Mom.