come home.

My traveling man is coming home tomorrow.

We've had plenty of fun while he's been gone.







But, we're exhausted.








And we didn't laugh as much,
and we didn't sleep as well,
and just aren't our same selves without him.

If you're happy and you know it...

On becoming a real man

I'm not very handy around the house. Don't get me wrong, I am a handy man:

Hey girls, gather round
Listen to what I'm putting down
Hey baby, I'm your handyman

I'm not the kind to use a pencil or ruler
I'm handy with love and I'm no fool
I fix broken hearts, I know that I truly can

If your broken heart should need repair
Then I am the man to see
I whisper sweet things, you tell all your friends
They'll come runnin' to me

Here is the main thing that I want to say
I'm busy 24 hours a day
I fix broken hearts, I know that I truly can

Anyway, my point is that I don't fix things around the house. Friday night, the hot water in our shower stopped working. This happens every three or four months. We call the maintenance guys, and they come over, smelling of testosterone. They spend maybe one minute working on it.

Since it was the beginning of the weekend, maintenance was several days away. Well, Amelia had to take a bath in the sink (since it's only the shower that's broken). Emily took a cold shower, squealing loudly. Then my turn came.

And then I felt the urge. I think the best way to describe it is as a surge of adrenaline. It's Father's Day. I'm the dad. I'm a man. I can fix things. I can fix this thing!

If you've used our shower, you know it has two knob things (I don't know what term the "so-called professionals" use, but I'm pretty sure you know what I'm talking about), one for the hot water and one for the cold. If you turn the hot water knob thing, nothing happens.

I decided the best approach was to disassemble the hot knob thing. I'm not sure what I was looking form. I was kind of hoping there would be something obvious, like maybe Amelia had jammed something in there. No luck; everything looked fine to me.

Since the cold water knob thing works fine, I disassemble it as well. You know, to compare. Anyway, I see the difference. The hot water knob thing is sticking out farther than the cold water knob thing.

A Little Digression on Biochemistry and the Industrial Revolution
Men have an X chromosome and a Y chromosome. Women have two X chromosomes. The Y chromosome determines the "handy-man" trait. This is a multi-gene trait, so different people can have different amounts of "handy-manity." For most of human history, men had to take care of their own homes and farms. There was no division of labor and no professional handymen. Women knew this and would, therefore, reject the "handy-impaired." Men with high levels of "handy-manity" (think auto-mechanics or Thomas Edison) were much more successful with the ladies than their equally intelligent and handsome but less manually dexterous neighbors (think accountants or Isaac Newton). Anyway, the "non-handies" (as they were derisively called by the schoolyard bullies) mostly failed to pass down their poor genes and, therefore, most people inherited handiness. When the western world industrialized, people began to specialize and income increased. Suddenly, men were able to hire other men to fix stuff for them. "Handiness" became much less important in attracting a female mate. Now, only about 1/2 of men are actually "handy." The rest are actively lobbying congress to enact affirmative action policies to redress the wrongs against the "handiness handicapped."
End of Digression

Well, I'm not a particularly handy guy. If I were, I probably could have figured out how to take some tool out of my bag (like a "allen wrench" or a "wingnut" or maybe a "wiper blade") and get the hot water knob to look like the cold water knob, to make it closer to the wall. I failed.

I resigned myself to a cold shower. I turned it on and stood there, out of the stream, trying to get the courage to step into the cold water (researchers are undecided about whether handy men are necessarily braver than the "non-handies"). And then it hit me. I want the hot water knob thing to be closer to the wall. So I kicked it. With my bare foot.

And I truly enjoyed my hot shower.

Below is an actual picture of a "Handy-man" in his natural environment. Notice how, like the peacock, he uses humor and plumage to attract females.

Riding Along in My Automobile

All the kids on the playground better watch out...Amelia's got herself a new set of wheels. She can't pedal yet, but she sure rings a mean bell.

Happy Father's Day

As cheesy as it sounds...dreams really do come true.

Just Being Content

I just found this photo of Amelia from about a month ago. She spends most of her day completely content with life...I love that about her.

Isn't She Lovely?

For our ward enrichment on Thursday, one of the girls in our ward took us on an art walk through UCSD campus. She was a landscape architect with UCSD before she had her children, and knows so much about the outdoor art installations on-campus. During the tour, we visited an installation called "Green Table," by Jenny Holzer. The table was made out of marble, and had what she calls "truisms" etched into the marble all over the table. There were sayings like, "A SOLID HOME BASE BUILDS A SENSE OF SELF," "EVERY ACHIEVEMENT REQUIRES A SACRIFICE, " and MUCH WAS DECIDED BEFORE YOU WERE BORN."

There was one line on the table that I haven't been able to get out of my head.

"TURN SOFT AND LOVELY ANY TIME YOU HAVE A CHANCE"

It reminded me of the 13th article of faith to seek after things that are virtuous, lovely, of good report...

It isn't hard to find loveliness all around me in San Diego -it's everywhere I look. But, sometimes it is really hard to BE lovely. Especially when our world can be tough, unforgiving and inpatient.

I love the idea of letting go of any other emotions you may feel and replacing them with soft and lovely emotions, thoughts, word and actions. I love how she used the word turn - because it really does take effort, and in a lot of cases requires a 180 degree change in what you're thinking, saying and doing.

It's my desire to learn how to turn soft and lovely...so I can help sweet Amelia preserve all the loveliness she was born with.

Paging Dr. Wignall

So, we had our first trip to the emergency room on Tuesday evening. While playing at the park with Amelia, and having a grand time, I made the mistake of picking her up by her arms...big mistake. Her wrist popped, and she proceeded to cry and wouldn't move her arm.

I took her inside, Chris came home, I raced around the house gathering snacks, stuffed bunnies, books, pacifier, and whatever else I could think to pack for our trip to the urgent care, gave the still crying Amelia tylenol, and we headed out the door.

After 2 hours of holding a crying baby in the emergency room, a doctor finally escorted us back to to take x-rays. The doctor made Chris hold her down(and according to Chris our baby might be a superhero, because she had super-human strength) and put her arm out straight. I left the room - the doctor said it was to protect my ovaries, so we could have more kids, and more trips to the emergency room...I think they call that job security.

And this is the part where genius Chris turned into a medical doctor. Sometime, somehow, in the midst of Chris struggling with Amelia, arms and legs flailing, the doctor running back and forth and pushing on her arm, Amelia's arm popped back into place and everything was fine.

Amelia was so happy to not be in pain. She ran and jumped around the emergency room....much to the dismay of the other, sicker emergency room patients. Her appetite came back and she was our Amelia again.

Well, I didn't want to pay for anything else, because obviously she was fine. So, with my mom's advice, I took Amelia in to the nurse's room, and showed them just how fine she was - she didn't disappoint - she was talking, drinking her milk, giggling, and pointing to things in the office. Obviously fine. I told them I didn't want to pay for anything else, but it didn't work.

Another half-hour later and a visit with a doctor, Amelia left the emergency room after being kissed by all the nurses and paramedic drivers she'd charmed. She laughed and waved goodbye to the sick patients waiting by the door, and we went home.

She's been fine ever since. Next time, Dr. Wignall is going to do whatever it was that he did and save us a ton of money. And all this time I thought he was working on a Ph.D.