Much to the Chagrin of Our Friends and Family

Tyler and I don't own cell phones.

I can hear a collective gasp pass through the audience. Everyone owns a cell phone, I know. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised to see an Amnesty International ad where an Ethiopian baby with a distended belly waves away the flies circling it's head in order to pull out his Blackberry Curve 8520 in magenta and text "I'm hungry. Send me food. :( "

Okay, that was probably in poor taste.

Tyler and I had a cell phone when we were first married. Seven years ago. That in no way qualifies me to operate a current cell phone. Sometimes I ask to borrow cell phones. I look at the variety of buttons and menus swimming before me for several minutes before I ask, "Um, how do I unlock it?" and then, "Where is the number 8?" And usually about then the phone starts talking to me and before you know it, I've called Pizza Hut.

But the thing is, sister-in-law Maquel just informed me that I am third on her emergency contact list. "Only third?" I asked, shocked. "Well, Laura--you're kind of hard to get ahold of." And, you know, I'm really gunning for that number one spot. So Tyler and I decided that maybe it was time. Just bite the bullet and get a phone. We used to be all cavalier about not owning one and assure ourselves that first-world people went without them for decades, but now payphones are few and far between and besides, everyone always talks about how cheap they are. And then then point to the Ethiopian babies as evidence.

So we did an online search. And people? YOU LIED TO ME. Cell phones cost upwards of forty dollars a month. And that's the cheapest plan we could find. And even more shocking? NONE OF YOU ARE SHOCKED BY THAT. How on earth do you pay that, people? Do you have any idea how much orange juice I could buy that I currently avoid at the store because it's too expensive? A WHOLE LOTTA ORANGE JUICE. And not even the concentrate stuff. I could buy the straw in the actual orange, fresh from the fruit stand, with enough pulp swimming around so the viscosity measures somewhere around molten glass, orange juice. And I could buy it SEVERAL TIMES A MONTH. I could buy it for all the distended belly babies, too.

Even Catherine Zeta Jones couldn't get Tyler to buy a cell phone. And that's saying something.

So, we will not be purchasing a cell phone. And I know who will be most put out by this decision. A couple months ago, Tyler was basking up on our pedastle of holier-than-thou cell-phone abstinence, remarking how we won't ever have to worry about our teenagers losing their phones and flushing all that money down the toilet (Quite literally. Do you know how many cell phone in the toilet stories I've heard?).

Sister Marissa looked at us with desperation in her eyes and said, "Please tell me you guys will own cell phones by the time you have teenagers."

Marissa, I make no promises.

Our Very Own Maradona

Talmage Turns Four

Tyler Told Me I Couldn't Get One. Rude.

http://www.babyzuriblog.com/

She's like Dumbo without any of the bitter commentary on society.

Big Dog, Little Dog

This Isn't Really Funny. Or Particularly Well Written. But I've Got to Start Somewhere, Right?

Ah, blogging.

Truthfully, I don't really know what to do about it. This isn't a should I go private intro, though I would understand why you might think it is. I think you are all very smart people to make your blog private. I understand the reasons, and why you wouldn't want your child to show up on a neo-Nazi website or a grocery store advertisement in the Czech Republic, but I've always lived my life by being aware of the bad things that might happen and then choosing to live as I like: not fearfully. Of course, then my car got stolen. Criminals are mean.

But blogging. It's rough on my emotions. I deal with a lot of guilt in my life, and I'd like to blame that on being a mother. Don't get me wrong; I love being a mother. More than I ever imagined I would. But it's a difficult job. Maybe akin to being the president of the free world. Everyone is sure that you're doing it wrong, including you yourself because at any one moment there isn't really a way to be sure you're doing it right.

So now blogging has been added to the equation in the Grand Balance of Important Things That Laura Shouldn't Neglect. I remember the good ol' days of 2008, when I posted every other day or so, and the sarcasm flowed like the Nile in Egypt. But the thing is, I'm a lot busier now. I'm having a hard time keeping everything in order (witness the overflowing craft closet), including my mind, and even if I made time to write, without an organized mind, I just don't have ideas like I used to.

So who cares? It's just a blog, right?

Well, yeah. Except that I like recording our family at this super busy but wonderfully blissful time of life. I have two adorable boys. I have a great husband. We see each other very little, but we still love each other a lot. Also, I like writing. This blog has been the first outlet for me to really try to write and write well what I think and feel and I think that's a valuable thing. I discover more about myself and about this time of life when I write about it.

So here's a list of things that have bounced around my brain the last while that refuse to turn themselves into blog entries, despite how much I've wanted them to.

1. First things first. I would like a baby elephant for Christmas. I mean are you kidding me?



2. Asher is like the most chill kid you've ever known. He's known how to roll over for, oh, about five months. He will do so every other week or so. He'd just prefer to hang out in a sitting position, smiling peacefully at the world. If James Taylor and Jack Johnson wrote a song together, Asher would have it on repeat. Maybe Enya could do backup vocals. I might be raising the Dali Lama.

Hopefully this will help us avoid the playing the organ while the bishop is conducting phase that Talmage hit about two years after he was born.

For those of you unaware. Talmage was a very active child. Very. If Asher is the Dali Lama, Talmage is more like Evil Knievel.

3. Today is Talmage's fourth birthday. Talmage defines his age by how many birthdays he's had. Which seems logical. Except that a birthday means a party, a big one, something that gets a bit neglected when you grow up. He's very insistent that I'm still 28, as I only got one present that he can remember and there were no balloons. He, however, had a party last Saturday and another one at preschool today. The way he figures it, he should now be five.

4. Tyler is hot.

He's been feeling a little underappreciated lately, especially as far as his looks go. I had a 12-year-old crush on one of our good friends in the neighborhood, Colter Hammer, and I told Tyler that it was because he was hot. "Was I hot?" he asked. "You were adorable." I responded.

Apparently boys don't want to be adorable.

Well, that's not really enough to count as a meaty blog entry, but maybe it will kickstart the creativity. Besides, I covered the most important parts of life, right? Asher? Check. Talmage? Check. Tyler? Check. Baby elephant? Check, check, check.

My Dog Has What You Might Call A Delicate Constitution

This is Lu.



This is Lu on unknown allergen.



Any questions?

Rain Drops Keep Falling on My Head

A Request

Our car was stolen last night. Out of our garage. Our neighbor witnessed the event. The perpetrator was a guy wearing khaki shorts and a T-shirt. So look carefully at your spouses, ladies. Odds are they're wearing khaki shorts and a T-shirt RIGHT NOW. Have you noticed any suspicious cars parked in your driveway? Specifically gold Camrys that you didn't purchase? If so, I'd like mine back please. And the green hoodie that I left in the back seat.

Really I'm just posting this because I'm bugged and bummed and generally grumpy about the whole thing. So I'd like some sympathy, please. Now I know my posting has been subpar as of late, so I've generally alienated any readers I had in the first place, but I'd like for you to come out of the woodwork. Tell me how sad this is. Tell me how violating this is. And if you want to bring me fruit juice popsicles, I'll take those too.