Rocky's Gifts for Dad

So I took the boys to the Dollar Store to pick out a birthday gift for Dad. I let Rocky wander the store uninhibited to make his choice. He carefully examined the toy and toiletry aisles, almost picking a triple pack of pinwheels. You know, the essentials (Dumb and Dumber reference). After much thought, Rocky settled on a jumbo pink princess pen full of glitter that featured a handbag stamper on top. "Dad will love this!" he yelled triumphantly resulting in snickers from the surrounding shoppers. Meanwhile, unbeknowest to me, Jack (who was propped in the front of the shopping cart) had yanked a stuffed monkey from a hanging rack. By the time I realized this, he had chewed up the paper tag and spit up white chunks all over the animal. Needless to say, we bought that too. As excited as Dad was sure to be with his princess pen, I thought maybe we should pick out one more gift. So Rocky chose a porcelain statue of a bear with tools. A builder bear is what he called it. Then Rocky insisted that he needed to buy his girlfriend Lydia a present too. "I like her a lot Mom," he said. Ok. He chose an oversized gooey bug. So I gave him a groundbreaking lesson on impressing girls, and he replaced the icky insect with a glittering wand. This morning Rich was tickled pink with his presents... or thoroughly confused, but he was pleased to discover that his pen could also blow bubbles and stamp a picture of a handbag. Rocky reminded him about 7 times to take his pen to work and put his "builder bear" on his desk. Rich will be the popular one at the office today. The first one to get handbag stamped was Jack.

Happy Birthday Rich!

Yes, today is Rich's birthday. He is now as old as me! Ha! To honor Richard G. I'm going to share some things you may not know about him.
1. He wails on the guitar (the video game one of course). He plays on level "expert" and sings at the same time. You should see those fingers fly. He can even flip the guitar around and play left-handed. It's inspiring. He had a crowd gathered at Circuit City the other day watching him in awe. Yeah. Coolest dad ever.
2. He's the coolest dad ever. Ok, you knew that. But seriously, he gets the boys giggling hysterically like no one else can. They do lots of boy stuff together, like wrestling and growling and fixing things.
3. Rich is an inventor. Almost daily he exits the shower (creative ideas flow faster there for him than water) with some new, brilliant theory or invention. Ask him about his anti-PC t-shirts. Let me tell you, if we had the means to implement his ideas, the world would be a different place. Interpret that how you like.
4. He's extremely intelligent and politically savvy. I'm thinking President of the US in 2038... if our country is still around then.
5. He's a man of many talents: snowboarding, paint-balling, kung-fu, rich-ing around. But he also does incredibly accurate impressions of people and singers and could easily have starred on SNL if given the opportunity. He has me laughing constantly. If we lived in LA, I would fully support a career in acting for him.
6. What he really wants for his birthday are a motorcycle or a gun.... and I'm a little relieved that he's not getting either.
I love you Rich!

Jack's Antics

At 8 months, Jack continues to stray from the cautious ways of his older brother. Knocking over house plants isn't the half of it. He rolls, dunks and splashes in the bath (Rocky still cries every time I wash his hair because heaven forbid a drop of water land on his vulnerable little face), he climbs everything, and he throws himself haphazardly into people and objects, sometimes sharp and solid ones, just for the fun of it. He's always bouncing, twisting, grunting or drumming. He has recently been referred to as Bam-Bam. Perhaps it's because his mom utilizes the Guitar Hero World Tour drum kit as her daily method of stress release and jamming is a nightly family ritual. Or it's because Grandma Kathy and Grandpa Corey appropriately gave him a toddler drum, sticks and other percussion instruments for Christmas. Now, he carries at least one of those sticks with him wherever he goes. Notice the picture from the last blog post. His drumstick must accompany him to all meals, so he can bang it to summon more food. He drums on everything but prefers Rocky's head. It seems to make the best acoustical sound. It actually serves him right for all the times he has head butted me in the past with that solid noggin' of his. It's like an orange on a toothpick. Ok, I don't condone drumming on Rocky's head but Jack is unstoppable. I've never seen such determination. Rocky has learned to keep a safe distance when Jack approaches him with a stick in hand. The boy is good with his hands. He typically totes a handful of binkies, flipping and popping them in his mouth like a cowboy slings a gun around his holster. He usually keeps one handy to pop into his mouth between meal bites. It happens so fast! He thinks it's hilarious. Try to feed me now Mom! His teasing nature is emerging. He's always splashing Rocky to get a reaction. Changing his diaper is nearly impossible. He wriggles, twists and rolls effectively insuring that if a diaper does end up on his bottom, it is contorted and off-center enough to guarantee leakage... and another impossible change. Once, I was so frustrated that I scolded him in the sternest voice I could muster. He looked at me and laughed out loud. Yeah. He laughed at me! I can only imagine what disciplining him is going to be like in the years to come. Does anyone have diaper changing suggestions short of recruiting an assistant to pin him down? Rocky has tried.

Rocky's favorite activity is playing "Jack in the Crib." Every time we put those two to bed, Rocky lays in anticipation of Jack's head popping up. When it does, they both giggle, then Jack throws himself back down for another pop-up. This can go on for an hour. Sometimes, Rocky sings the "Jack in the Box tune" until the mischievous little head emerges. He will do anything to make Rocky laugh, even falling backwards and hitting his head on the crib wood. I wasn't prepared for such an aggressive, ambitious baby. I predict he will be walking within the month. Isn't there a stage where the baby just sits there and plays quietly? That was Rocky until he was one. Man, I miss that baby.

Here's a little video update of the boys.

Kitchen Calamity

I'm finding it difficult to type this tale. You will soon find out why. When Momma C was here a few weeks ago, she inspired me to cut down on the costly canned baby grub and cook my own. After all, Jack eats like a pregnant woman. I had also expressed my frustration of preparing separate meals for everyone... you know... the strain of opening three different TV dinners. Ok, I'm not that bad, but we were in need of healthier, simpler alternatives. She divulged a recipe bound to satisfy all for days... homemade beef vegetable soup, as it could also be blended into a scrumptious mush for our toothless one.

Unfortunately, this involved actually chopping, dicing and mincing (yes...I now know what all those words mean) several different vegetables. Feeling ambitious yesterday while Rocky napped, I tossed Jack into the pack n' play. When left to wander, he systematically topples both standing plants then proceeds to tangle himself in our computer desk cords, ripping many from their sockets, when he's not busy clinging desperately to one of my legs, grunting, while he balances precariously on one leg of his own. Not wanting to spend the time prying myself lose from his iron grip, I ignored his whimpering pleas for freedom and began browning the beef. Then, while chopping the onion, the 2nd of 7 vegetables, I slipped and sliced some finger instead. Since my pale skin resembled the opaque onion shards, I may not have noticed if it weren't for the blood that began streaming down my hand. After a moment of reflection, it occurred to me that I literally had chopped off a piece of my middle finger.. luckily not my favorite. So I rinsed the raw flesh, threw a band aid and an ice bag on it and went back to the beef browning. Clearly lacking experience with open flesh wounds, I solved the whole blood-dripping-down-the-arm-into-the-meat-dilemma by tying a towel around my wrist. That should soak it up, I thought. It didn't, so I took that arm out of the equation by holding it behind my back. Finishing the vegetable chopping proved more difficult minus the stabilizing appendage, so I called EMT Rich and returned to the sink to sanitize and redress the wound. Lest you accuse me of exaggeration, I will assure you that it was a small slice of skin. I don't know why it bled so much. After work, Rich walked in to find Jack wailing in the pack n' play (what was I supposed to do... saturate the kid in blood by hoisting him out of there) and me, holding a bewildered Rocky in one arm while the other arm dangled, still dripping, over the bloody sink. Vegetables lay unchopped, but I had managed to brown the meat. He did the unexpected... snatched the cayenne pepper from the spice cabinet and poured it on my throbbing finger. It felt like how you would expect from such a spicy substance. It BURNED. It seared as if someone had lit my finger on fire, after slowly peeling the skin down and shoving tiny daggers underneath. It was like rubbing sand paper over raw flesh. Not recommended. But it cauterized the bleeding, so the cooking continued. Needless to say, Rich chopped the remaining vegetables. Today, I'm realizing how underappreciated middle finger guy was. He was useful. I won't make that mistake again. Nevertheless, the soup was a success! Delicious! Jack gulped his blended version down with a smile. Let me know if you would like the recipe. I would invite you over for some, but we never did find that bit of finger. Oops.

Tempting Fate

Friday the 13th. For most, this is a day of superstition, irrational fear and apprehension. Ironically, these are the feelings that the idea of marriage conjured within me until Friday the 13th, 2004. That is the day my fears were swept up into blissful happiness as Rich and I consummated our marriage in the Salt Lake Temple, the place where we had met. Surrounded by loved ones, we wept tears of joy and floated on clouds in the frigid winter air we were oblivious of. That is the day our journey began. Since 13 was our number and we chose to avoid the clique of Valentine's Day, by mere hours, we formed our union on this ominous day. Looking back, perhaps we had tempted fate. Externally, our challenges have been numerous, comically so, yet our feelings for each other have remained intact and have only solidified as we have faced life's blows together. Marriage has become the beacon of light in a world of darkness, the refuge from the storm, the force that drives us forward despite the odds stacked against us at times. In five years, we have moved 7 times. Rich has held 6 different jobs and we struggled through 2 extremely difficult pregnancies, to name a few challenges. Despite this, we laugh constantly and enjoy more marital joy than I imagined possible. Surrounded by three vibrantly spirited boys, there is never a dull moment in the Sorenson household. I wouldn't have it any other way. Rich, I love with all my heart and soul. You're my best friend and companion, my media naranja, my soul mate. Happy anniversary Richard G. Let's continue tempting fate another five. Bring it on!

Anniversary Trip to Tahoe

This being our first trip ALONE together since our honeymoon, FIVE years ago, we were pretty excited. Momma C, who loves us like only a mother can, used her vacation time to fly out here and watch the kids for the weekend, so we could make the trip. This relieved us of any worrying about the kids we may traditionally have experienced because we have complete and total confidence in her. After all, she raised Rich. So carefree and completely alone, we embarked on our trip. That day, Rich discovered that, reminiscent of our wedding night, our hotel reservation had been lost. Having learned from our previous experience, Rich fought the company he booked with (*cough* Heavenly Resorts, *cough*) with such powerful eloquence and stern diplomacy that I fell in love with him all over again, a near daily occurrence. His efforts earned us a discount, a suite on the TOP floor of Harvey's already impressive hotel, free shirts and free passes to the Blu night club. I nearly exploded from excitement. We did what we loved best.. ate good food, danced, sang our little hearts out at a karaoke bar and struck up conversations with everyone we saw. Most know this as typical Sorenson boy behavior, but I actually enjoy it and engage in it just as much as Rich. I live by the philosophy that you cannot get embarrassed in front of people you don't know and will never see again, which makes hanging with such people so inviting and explains the karaoke. Rich stole the show with his rendition of LA Woman which lead many to believe he was a Jim Morrison incarnate. That was the highlight for me.
Neither of us could sleep that night in anticipation on the next day's event.. snowboarding!! We unanimously determined that there was nothing we would rather do on our vacation than this. Due to winter pregnancies and job schedules, we hadn't been snowboarding together in years. So we anxiously awaiting morning, hoping for the snow to continue to fall.

Be careful what you wish for. We had snow, but failed to consider the dense fog that would accompany it. This picture fully illustrates our visibility that day. There was just enough snow to convert the groomed trails into bumpy ones. We blindly raced down the mountain unaware of speed or destination anticipating the next collision, playing the odds that it would be an icy chunk of snow and not a tree. At times, we weren't even sure if we were on a legitimate trail. Though exciting, it wasn't exactly what we had hoped for. So the next day, with encouragement from Momma C, we put off our departure a few more hours and, ignoring the astronomically high lift ticket prices, headed up the mountain once more. Boy, were we glad we did! Visibility made all the difference and the clear skies left us with a breathtaking view of Lake Tahoe from the gondola. See how happy I was...
It was a perfect trip!

One Smart Little Cookie

A few mornings ago, I relayed the day's plans to Rocky. We would go to the gym, then to lunch with dad and Grandpa Rick. Afterwards, we would go to Walmart to buy blank DVD's. He asked if we could get him a Bumblebee Transformer toy. (He has been asking for one since Uncle Daren bought some for our little bro's Brandon and Evan for Christmas). I reiterated that there would be no purchasing of toys, a daily reminder. Throughout the day's activities, he continued to talk about the Bumblebee toy he was going to get at Walmart, despite my rebuttals. After we had located the DVD's, we passed the toy aisles. "Can we just look at them?" he pleaded. " Why not? Harmless, right? I suggested that maybe when he had completed his preschool workbook (that should take a few months), we could return and purchase the toy as a reward. When he spotted it, he began to beg. He waited until the last moment, as I began to turn the cart away, to reach into his pocket and pull out a $20 bill! He thrust it at me and announced, "I'm going to buy it!" What?! When I asked him where he got the money, he told me it came from his piggy bank at home. Uncle Rob had added it to his bank months ago, and he had saved it for just this occasion. I was shocked. This is a 3 year old we're talking about! So he had ignored the dollar bills and change in his piggy and had stuffed the $20 in his pocket before leaving the house that morning. He had kept it tucked away secretly all morning, then waited until precisely the moment when he knew it was his only option. I was blown away! So he bought his Bumblebee Transformer. What was I supposed to do? Sure enough, when I got home I found his piggy bank with the remaining contents dumped out on my bed. Smart cookie.

I should also add that while Rocky has blown us away with his clever scheming, Jack has blown us away with the amount of food he eats. On a typical night, he now consumes an adult size bowl of barley cereal, half a can of baby food, a whole container of pureed fruit and an 8 oz. bottle. And he STILL wakes us between 4-5 AM wanting to be fed!?