Happy Birthday to the Allie-Cat

Allison got a little older this month. It will now be a bit more believable when I tell people her age. Now I can say "3" and maybe only the occasional person will say, "Really? But she's so big!!", like I got day in and day out when I used to tell people she was 2. Yes, yes, she ain't a short kid. But let's not go giving her a Jolly Green Giant complex or anything, okay? Now that she is 3, maybe she is starting to fit into her body a little more.

So in keeping with tradition and to give a little tribute to Allison, here is the top 10 things I love about Allison. Really there are 4 kajillion, buhbillion and ten (Jane's favorite number) but that might just be a wee too much for one post (plus, how many is that, I wonder?).

TOP 10 THINGS WE LOVE ABOUT ALLISON

1. Her funny little scrunched up smile and mischievous laugh.

Allie at one year old.

2. Her sense of daring. Nothing is too scary, too fast or too deep. This can be seen as a good thing or as a certain death wish. It is a true adventure to take this child swimming. Diving boards, waterslides...these are no obstacles...just continual ways to make her mother stress out. She is also pretty low drama when it comes to pain. Last month I took her sledding and she took a spill that ended in a gushing head wound. She cried for a minute and then became fascinated by the "red paint". She only started to cry again when I told her I had to take her to the car to get her cleaned up instead of taking her back to the sledding hill. We had to take her to urgent care and they super-glued her back together. (I know, super glue? The stuff really works though.) She was a trooper.

3. The fact that she named her favorite stuffed animal puppy "Perrito". (She is OBSESSED with Dora the Explorer right now). The great thing is that she has a tough time saying perrito so it sounds like "burrito". Who wouldn't want a puppy named after mexican food?

4. The way she snuggles into me when she's tired (and it takes a lot to do that). I have had to wait years for this child to snuggle. I will gladly take all of it I can get.

Allie at 5 months.

5. That she potty trained herself! Really, I tried for a few weeks to get her to use the potty - she would use it, but then if I didn't ask her if she had to go every 5 minutes, we would have accidents. It was a bit of a nightmare. Finally, I told her I had given up and we were back to pull-ups. A week or so later, she asked for one last chance with her underwear and has never looked back. Yay! For the first time in 4 years, there are no diapers in our house.

6. That she thinks her "real" name is Allison Wonderland. She gets mad if you tell her what her real last name is. I'm with her. Wonderland is much, much cooler.

Allison Wonderland

7. Her funny little brain. I would love to know what goes on up there. She is in her own little world so much that I figure it must be something pretty good. This also makes her the world's best dawdler (is that a word)? You ask her to do something as simple as to go put on some socks and it MIGHT get done next Thursday. I think it's funny and maddening at the same time.

8. Her outgoing personality. Allie really fears no one. She will walk up to anyone and ask them their name. That's about as far as the conversation goes, but she is not shy. Again, this can be good and bad in that she has no problem telling anyone her mind, and also has no problem with "stranger danger".

9. The way she can be going 90 miles an hour and then sit down and "read" her favorite books quietly to herself for a good half hour. She is a crazy busy kid, but she can focus when she wants to.



10. Her big heart. Allie is so loving and is always asking if I'm okay. She loves to give bear hugs and slobbery kisses. I know she loves her older sister. Although they fight a lot, you can also find her happily tagging after Jane where ever she goes.



Allison is a source of great happiness in our lives. She makes us laugh, makes us wonder, makes us slow down and just enjoy the journey. We love you Allie!

BIRTHDAY PICS:

For her birthday, we took Allie, along with her cousins, to the Kamas Pool to go swimming. After, we had pizza and cake. It was a grand time. Here are some pictures.

Allie opening her dress ups and jewelry from her grandma and grandpa.

Pizza with cousins.

My lowly cake decorating skills...the "Allie Cat" cake.

Allie in her new birthday hat from her aunt...with pizza all over her face...

An irresponsible post

I had a choice for what to do tonight: finish my taxes or blog. It proved to be an interesting conundrum. However, the guilt for not having posted since Thanksgiving finally overcame the inevitability of the taxman and I decided to do the irresponsible, more fun thing. Besides, one of my coworkers, a notorious blog stalker (Hi Caplan!) told me she needed something to read during one of the otherwise boring meetings she gets to attend.

So we kinda skipped December. You might recall, but Christmas and New Years happened at some point in there. Not going to rehash it too much, but suffice it to say it was lovely. The most notable thing that happened was I surprised Em with a trip to Cancun with my sister and her husband. This irresponsible post is going to be mostly dedicated to some highlights of that trip.

But before we even get to Cancun, let's start with the drama that preceded it. My sister, Becca, started feeling sick a few days before we were to leave. Not the "I have a runny nose and a head cold" sick, but the "FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS HOLY I THINK THERE IS A BOULDER LODGED IN MY GALL BLADDER". Yup, she had a major gall stone. For those of you that don't know (and I was in this camp prior to this event), the gall bladder is

"a hollow organ that sits in a concavity of the liver known as the gallbladder fossa. In adults, the gallbladder measures approximately 8 cm in length and 4 cm in diameter when fully distended.[2] It is divided into three sections: fundus, body, and neck. The neck tapers and connects to the biliary tree via the cystic duct, which then joins the common hepatic duct to become the common bile duct."

Lovely, yes? Here's a picture:

It doesn't look all that important...

So, feeling not so well and worried about the upcoming vacation, she decided to try a few homeopathic treatments (read: witch doctor remedies) for gall stones. While I don't have a complete list, I think this consisted of:
1) Chugging olive oil and lemon juice.
2) Drinking kiwi-strawberry Kool-Aid through a straw, upside down while whistling Dixie. Note: This is even harder than it sounds.
3) Sacrificing virgin chickens to a pagan deity.

Sadly, none of these things worked. Come Tuesday night, she was in excruciating pain and couldn't down her oil'n'kool-aid cocktail. It was thus decided that she would head to the doctor the next day.

Once there, the doctor immediately decided that the strange little organ needed to be removed, a process that is known as a hepaticocholangiocholecystenterostomy. Ok maybe not exactly, but that's a really long word. You would think that something with a name that long would have a really long recovery time, but you would be wrong. The surgery is out-patient, and the doctor informed Becca that she could either rest and recover at home with 4 young children, or do it on the beach in Cancun. No-brainer, right?

After a successful hepaticocholangiocholecystenterostomy that afternoon, we headed to the airport early the next morning (yes, less than 12 hours after surgery, Becca was on a plane). Please note that if you ever have the occasion to travel with a person in a wheelchair, provided you are not the person in the wheelchair, it is a pretty sweet deal. We breezed through security and, once in Mexico, customs. It was pretty fantastic. Of course, there is the minor detail of Becca sitting in the back of the plane, drugged up and in excruciating pain, but if I had the choice, I would have her do it again.

Renting a car proved to take about as long as the flight from Salt Lake. This is one interesting thing about Cancun - everyone is constantly trying to sell you on a timeshare presentation of some sort. If you go to get some Advil from the pharmacy, they try to get you to take a sunset cruise or go snorkeling. When buying a taco from a street vendor you're likely to be pitched on a once-in-a-lifetime deal for a timeshare. So, after the rental car company spent at least an hour "cleaning" the car (which really means stalling until we bought the tickets to the outdoor adventure park), we finally headed out to our hotel. Here are a few highlights from the trip:

- Steve (Becca's husband who speaks Spanish and is 3/7ths Mexican) and I went golfing the second day we were there. While golfing, we caught up with an older couple that was playing super slow. We passed them, but later on in the round they came riding up to pass us, obviously done for the day. They were probably in their mid to late 60s, and looked like they had come right from a Grateful Dead concert. We asked them where they were headed, and he said they were heading for the bar. Except when he said it every other word was the f-bomb. So they rode off to the bar and we kept playing. About a half-hour later, we were teeing off and saw a cart way off in the distance. I thought it was a maintenance worker, but it turned out it was Capt. Salty and his wife. I asked why they weren't at the bar and he simply replied "Because we were smoking a joint!" with the requisite colorful adjectives. After declining his offer to roll us one, they rode off, giggling. I kinda like that retirement plan.

Playing Shanghai in our very own own Cabana.

- One morning we woke up to the sound of 20 ambulances screaming up and down the road outside the hotel. Looking outside the window, I saw that there were some bleachers that had been set up for a group picture for a company that was having a conference at the hotel. The top row of the bleachers was a good 15 feet off the ground. While taking the picture, the bleachers either just collapsed (entirely possible) or were rammed by the car that was sitting conspicuously next to the mangled bleachers with its hood dented in (more likely). Whatever the cause, a good many Unilever employees were taken to the hospital.

While leaving to head into town that morning, we passed a reporter and her cameraman milling about the scene. Steve leaned out the window while passing them and yelled out in gringo Spanish "We saw the whole thing happen, do you want an interview?" The reporter ran toward us so fast that her cameraman nearly fell over, but by the time she got to the car Steve had gunned the engine and sped off down the road, laughing maniacally. The reporter was crestfallen, her exclusive scoop turning out to be pretty much the comedic equivalent of "Made you look!".

- We had dinner at a restaurant that served Mayan food one night. Fortunately the staff was not Mayan, because otherwise we would not have been able to communicate with them because apparently they couldn't speak (ask Becca about this). The menus did however have some words and phrases in Mayan. Typically, when you are given a primer in another language on a menu, you could expect to find words or phrases like

"Hello!"
"Thank you."
"My name is ___"
"I would like a ___"

On this menu, you could find the following:

Ak - Dwarf
Al bo'ol - Cheating at payment
Bix - String Bean
Chakay - Sea lobster
Chak op - Bald
Etyum - Godfather

and my personal favorites for sheer randomness

Haha che-eh - Guffaw
T'uubul k'iin - Solar event

Pretty much all the words you need to order food at a restaurant. Provided you wanted to eat a your godfather, the bald sea lobster.

As far as phrases went, you could learn to say

'Bahun a hantantik ma'a hanal' (Why do you eat what is not yours?) or 'Tulacal baal yan tat, he baax a kat a hante; xectaba' (We have everything sir, whatever you want to eat, please sit).

Honestly, they couldn't even just put normal numbers on the menu. You can learn to say 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 15, 22, and 90. Truly beyond random, but it was amusing to call Em a dwarf and my little stringbean during dinner.

Bin k'iin, bo'ol chakay. Nak' lip'chi' kex. Et ok ak exex haha che'eh hach ah tus kanan way hanal kan.

Use this to translate the above caption.

- We wanted to go to see some ruins, but took a recommendation from my cousin to go see Ek Balaam rather than Chitzen Itza, as it is much less touristy. It was a great recommendation and we spent the better part of the morning cavorting in the ruins. (For reference, you cannot actually visit ruins unless you cavort. It's just not right.)

Note: do NOT attempt to use a tripod here. At least 15 Mexicans who were previously sitting around a table playing cards while people were spray painting on the ruins will run at you with guns drawn if you attempt to use it.

View from the top of the pyramid with our friend Snakeeyes the Canadian.

I'm not going to lie - I was hoping Indian Jones was going to come running out of one of these buildings.

I had no idea the Mayans could speak or used picket fences.

I'm fairly certain that this is nature's equivalent of a "Trespassers will be shot" sign.

- Em and I also spent a day playing on Cozumel. We rented a scooter and some snorkel gear and hung out at the beach all afternoon. Truly a blissful day.

I wonder what the menu said in this restaurant. Not at all random to have a Pagoda in the middle of a tiny Mexican town.

We came home to the thick inversion soup that we had last month and were immediately immersed back into the day-to-day circus that we call our life.

Finally, I'll leave you with a couple of funny Jane stories:

- Em, in an ever-escalating war to create the weirdest cakes for birthdays (we've had pandas and hippos so far), created a golf cake for me, complete with a dimpled golf ball and an Oreo hole. Jane, having helped make the cake, was quite aware of all that went into its creation. After getting her piece of the cake, she took a bite, then looked at Em and said 'Mom, when I was looking at the cake I thought it was going to be a 3, but after eating it I think it's definitely a 68.'

Fore... out of 10.

- Having just finished her bath, Jane came up to me in her towel and earnestly said 'Dad, why can't I chop off all of my fingers?' Ummm... because?

Allie really is smiling here. I am not kidding. We have to work on it.

In Desperation....

Happy belated Thanksgiving. In the spirit of Thanksgiving, I will tell you what we are all thankful for. Jane is thankful for her cinderella flashlight. Allie is thankful for corn. (We know this because she either blesses or expresses gratitude for "the corn" in EVERY prayer, not just at dinner. I have no idea what is up with the corn.) Jevan is thankful for sleep because that is what he is doing right now. And I am grateful for a husband who willingly, if not enthusiastically will submit himself to this:


Yes, tonight we had a Tea Party Dinner.

Before you go thinking to yourself, "Here we go again with another one of those look-at-my-oh-so-cute-and-perfect-life stories", know this. This was out of sheer desperation. This was one of those times when you call your husband at 6:00 and your stomach drops when you can still hear office noises in the background. "You haven't left yet?" Yikes. And he still has a 50 minute drive ahead of him. (I know, we made our bed and now we have to sleep in it, right?) AND, your kids are about to kill each other. Dinner is almost done, the movie you put in to save your sanity is over, and so what do you do? Throw a tea party. Getting dressed up and and the table set burns up LOTS of extra time. Sheer desperation. But amusing in the end so I had to take a picture.

Also, I would recommend these tea party dinners as an excellent dieting tool. Tiny plates equal great portion control.

Oh, and not more than 20 minutes after it is all over, Jane throws herself a mighty tantrum. Does anyone else have a four year old that is 85% wonderful and 15% possessed by demons? I mean raging demons. She literally turns on a dime, too. And usually in front of the neighbor we have just met.

A Rite of Passage and A Giraffe in Trouble

So there comes a time in every small child's life where they must experiment with scissors...and hair. Some just cut the hair of their favorite doll or My Little Pony. Some cut their real hair. Like mine did. On Saturday. The day before the primary program and 2 days before her first day of preschool in her new hometown. Yup. Jane chopped her hair.

She was very practical about it. She was genuinely confused at our shock and mild anger about what she had done. She said that some of her hair kept falling in her face that morning and so she just cut the darned hair off. Problem solved. Jane is very much like that, for the most part. See the problem, solve it. Like this summer when we went to the swimming pool and the life guard told her she couldn't jump off the diving board until she could jump in and swim to the side unaided. So, she came down off the board, grabbed my hand and told me I needed to teach her to swim. She practiced all afternoon and wouldn't give up until she could swim/doggie paddle to the side. Then, with her determined and triumphant little face, went off the diving board and with her mother's heart pounding, made it, in a desperate flailing of limbs, to the side.

Wow. Tangent. Anyway, here is the damage. Jev and I decided it was a rite of passage to becoming a true little kid. Everyone has their stories.



On a side note, my sister-in-law reminded me today of a funny episode last week as well. We went with her and her kids to Bean Museum in Provo, which is basically a huge gallery of dead, stuffed things. Think of the best hunting lodge you have been to with the moose heads on the wall and quadruple it.... and add animals from every continent you can think of. Quite fascinating really. Above the stairs, leading to the 2nd floor, they had mounted almost the entire front half of a giraffe on the wall. Allie saw the giraffe and was instantly convinced it was stuck in the wall. She desperately kept asking me to help it. When i didn't come down to pull it out of it's brick prison, she began to encourage it to help itself. "C'mon giraffe. You can do it." Then she would grunt to show it the proper sound effects to use when extricating itself from the wall. She pleaded for a long time with giraffe, urging it to liberate itself, or calling me to lend a hand, but there was just no budging the silly giraffe. She finally gave up but talked about it for days to come. Maybe you just had to be there, but it was so stinkin' funny.

Huh. Random post but here it is all the same.

La La Land

So I thought I would make it official. We did it. We moved. We bought a house in Heber. And yes, Jevan still works in Salt Lake - he commutes. My environmental studies teachers/friends would be so disappointed in me. He doesn't even commute in some sort of hybrid vehicle. I am SO hypocritical....but I can't help myself...I'm blinded by love.

I think I have been dreaming of living here since we've been married but I didn't think it would really happen. Whenever I would talk about it, Jevan would refer to it as my "La La Land." Well, La La Land, here I am. Here I get the Heber Creeper, Dairy Keen (not Queen mind you...it has the best shakes anywhere...and the greatest kids meal prizes ever), the Demolition Derby, the Cowboy Poetry Festival (what rhymes with yeehaw?) and the National Sheepdog Championships. Mostly though, it's just really pretty here. With the backdrop of Mt. Timpanogos and the areas of open pasture, I get this sensation every time I drive over the last hill and into the valley - a combination of relief, peace and belonging. I guess I really never have been a city person. And the best part? My city-slicker husband loves it too.

So, because people said they were curious, here's our new house. Come visit us some time. We'll rustle you up some grub and maybe even recite a cowboy poem or two.

Halloween Top 5

Top 5 favorite things of Halloween this year:

1. The fact that my second child isn't old enough to care that she is wearing her sister's costume from last year. Also, that if anyone tried to call her Alice she would yell "No! I Awwison (Allison) Wonder-and!" Get it right, people.



2. That the girls only lasted about 20 minutes trick-or-treating before they got too cold and wanted to go in. That made their stash of candy pretty small, and they were perfectly content to answer the door. Jane would fawn over everyone's costumes and Allie would yell "Oh! They're here!" EVERY time the door would ring. As if some long lost relatives finally made it to our house.



3. That our doorbell never stopped ringing. We went through 3 of the giant bags of candy that you buy at Costco. That's over 450 kids. It was basically a stampede of sugar-crazed little people running around the neighborhood.



4. That Halloween to a sugar addict (like myself) is like October Fest to an alcoholic. I might have stashed away a few Kit Kats as the candy started running low...just maybe....



5. That I have a brother-in-law who is the spitting image of Napolean Dynamite when in costume. It was definitely scary....and hilarious.

I love fall

Who doesn't love this time of year? The air is cool and crisp and the world is full of color. For some reason, I have felt this need to soak up every last bit of the autumn colors this year. I think I have dragged my family up the canyon almost every other day. You'd think it was my last season on earth or something. I don't know why I have been so obsessive about it, but I have. I try to capture it on camera but it is never really the same. Cameras just don't catch how vivid the colors are in real life.

Anyway, here is what I have to show for it.

Happy Fall !!

Family Update

Fall is finally here and it is about time I write another family update.

It has been a wild ride of a summer. We have had a lot of fun vacations, as all the other posts show. It has also been a difficult past few months because we have had to make a lot of big decisions - the biggest being where we wanted to buy a house. It has been quite the process. We couldn't decide if we should live nearby downtown (sugar house area) or in Heber. I have always wanted to live there - for the beauty and recreation, but I also felt strongly that it would be a good place to raise kids. I guess. I hope. We started looking both down in the valley and in Heber, but we ended out finding a house we really liked in Heber, going for a really good price. We spent lots and lots of nights up talking about it, trying to decide if moving to Heber was a good idea. Jevan would have a long commute, and we would have to do a lot more driving. And gas isn't cheap right now.

After agonizing over it for days, we put an offer in on the Heber house. It is a short sale, so it has been a roller coaster ride trying to get it. At first, it was a bit of a miracle how smoothly it went. Our realtor kept saying over and over "You must be living right" because usually short sales "so frequently end in sorrow and heartbreak." (yes, he did actually say that :) ) But then the appraisal came back even lower than we were offering for it so either us, the seller or the bank had to take an even bigger hit. Everyone was mad and it was looking like we weren't going to get the house. Then the bank came back and said we all had to give a little. So again, we agonized over the decision, but ended up agreeing to go ahead with the deal.

So that is where we sit now. We close in a week. I am excited and apprehensive at the same time. I have yet to feel that peaceful confirmation that we have made the right decision. I hope it comes at some point. I hope I fit into my new neighborhood. I hope we like living in Heber.

We also made the decision to send Jevan back to school for his MBA. Unfortunately we made the decision a little late, and now, if he goes to the U of U, he will have to wait until next fall to start the program. But we feel like it is the right step for him to make, especially because his current employer will help pay for it.

I guess this has to be a short post because there is trouble brewin' in the other room with the little ones. It will be strange not living with my parents in the basement. It has been so fun to have my parents around all the time to talk to. I can't believe how many nights my mom and I have stayed up WAY too late talking. I love you, Mom and Dad! Thanks for letting us live with you!!

What Do Monsters Look Like?

So the other day, my sister-in-law came over to my parent's house (where we STILL currently live...but not for long...) with a surprise for Jane and Allie. She sits her down on the couch, whips out a book and starts reading. The book is darling and when I ask her who wrote it, she casually says "Oh..I got my children's book published." What the? She then launches into a story about how the book came to be, the process stretching over years, all starting with her little boy's fears of monsters under the bed. I was in awe.

So, I have to tell everyone who either has a child with a fear of monsters, or just wants a wonderful children's book, to buy this book. The premise is that the monsters under the bed are just as scared of you as you are of them. It's so stinkin' cute. You can get it off Amazon, or I can secure you a copy easily, maybe even signed by the author.

I am always so impressed with people who have a dream and see it fulfilled. Good job Amber. I want to be like you.

The Last of the Summer Adventures, Part 2: Canyoneering in Zion

Typically, when packing for a vacation most people put things like suntan lotion, beach towels, swimsuits, and flip flops. Most people are not like my in-laws. I think their ancestors were Nordic (likely Vikings). Contrary to what you might have learned in school, I'm convinced that the Vikings didn't rape and pillage because of overpopulation or religious convictions, but rather because it was the most difficult thing they could possibly do for fun. It was like a Viking vacation! I can imagine a Viking dad getting his immediate family together and having a conversation like this:

Paulthor (the dad): Sons, it's time we planned next year's family vacation. What should we do?

Gregotgardill (eldest son): How about rowing a boat up a waterfall?

All: Nah, too easy.

Cliarkf (younger son): What about playing tag with the sharks again? That was fun.

All: Boooo-ring.

Jevan (brother in-law) (and yes, it is a Nordic name I'll have you know): How about we pick an activity that won't get someone killed? Remember what happened to poor Hjorvarth last year...

[Paulthor, Gregotgardill and Cliarkf share a look of disgust]

Merdonfthnus (youngest son): It's not a vacation unless someone could die or at a minimum be horribly maimed you pansy.

Reedolf (other brother in-law): Jevan, you can stay here with the children while your wife Emilfrothi comes with us!!!

[All laugh, pointing fingers at Jevan and making rude hand gestures that bring into question his masculinity, parentage, facial hair and choice of clothing]

Louifstæn (mom) to Emilfrothi: I told you he was a wiener.

Paulthor: How about this - we'll all get into a boat, row across the ocean, land on a beach somewhere, run ashore brandishing weapons and screaming, rape / pillage / plunder, then come back home!

All except Jevan: Yaay!

This is pretty much how we plan family vacations in Em's family (including the mocking of my clothing). Case in point - the family trip to Zion National Park this summer. Here is what we packed: wetsuits, suntan lotion, 3 first aid kits, a climbing harness, locking carabiners, nylon ropes, wet bags, water, and tons of trail mix / granola bars. Pretty much the kinds of things that you would pack if you were planning on running from the law for an extended period of time in the desert.

In the past, Emily has gone on this annual "Let's attempt to cheat death one more time" vacation by herself, but this year I decided that I had had enough of the rude gestures from her brothers and came with them. This is a rough breakdown of how it all went down.

Day 1:
Wake up at 5:00 AM, because no good adventure starts after sunrise. (Note: I think that, with the exception of early-morning golf, the Holy Ghost really does go to bed at 12:00AM and doesn't wake up until around 7:30 or 8:00.)
Get in the car and drive for a couple of hours.
Contemplate the number of ways you may meet your end in the upcoming hours.
Arrive at the trailhead at 7:30AM. Begin hiking.
Hike down some steep canyon terrain until you arrive at the mouth of a slot canyon.
Realize that you have survived so far and be simultaneously grateful and sad that it will take even more effort to get your corpse out in the event of an accident.
Proceed to what the guide book describe as your first 'obstacle'.
Remind yourself that an 'obstacle' is to a Tayler as 'The Grand Canyon' is to a unicyclist.
Proceed to rappel down a 20-foot cliff into a puddle of what can only be described as "37 years' worth of cow urine in mud".
Slog your way through while trying not to breathe.
Accidentally breathe.
Vow to make it the last 20 feet without breathing, or die in the attempt.
Watch your mother in-law do the same thing and feel like a total wimp.
See your mother in-law's shoes come off in the pee / mud mixture.
Try not to giggle.
Tell your wife you can't go in and help your mother in-law get out because you're filming the event for posterity.
Help your mother in-law out.
Remind your mother in-law that this is her vacation.
Catch all of the pack as they are thrown down from the top of the 'obstacle'.
Discover that, when thrown from 20 feet above you, catching a 60-pound backpack feels very similar to getting steamrolled by a blitzing linebacker.
Reassemble the group, after an hour or so of traversing the stinkhole.
Resume hiking (and breathing).
Traverse a few other 'obstacles', including one in which you have to physically drop your wife, sister in-law, niece, and mother in-law off of a cliff into a pool of water (I'm not exaggerating).
Tell your mother in-law she looks like a drowned cat.
Pretend to not notice the dirty looks you get from everyone.
Find out why it's not a good idea to hike for many hours with a mesh-lined swimsuit.
Discover first-hand the meaning of the word 'chafing'.
Learn to hike bow-legged.
Continue hiking. Start to look at all of the amazing stuff that 99% of the people that go to Zions don't see. Think to yourself that maybe the Vikings were onto something.
Realize that there's something to be said for near-death vacationing.
Emerge from the canyon at 8:30 PM battered, bruised, chafed, but whole.
Spend 27 minutes showering and using an entire bar of soap attempting to remove the 'obstacle' smell.
Remember that Day 1 was the 'easy' day.
Collapse into bed for a few hours of sleep.

Day 2:
Wake up at 6:00AM.
Pack wet suit, ropes, harness, carabiners, and food into a dry pack.
Ensure your Last Will & Testament is in order.
Drive to the trailhead.
Start hiking.
After 2 minutes, arrive at the first 'obstacle'. Or, to be more accurate, the place where you have to put on a wetsuit and swim through freezing cold and fetid water in order to get to the first obstacle.
"ON-ROPE".
Rappel down a sheer 80-foot cliff.
"OFF-ROPE".
Hike through an amazing slot canyon, going down some incredible rappels (including one into 'The Cathedral', which has to be one of the coolest things you've ever done).
Be upset that your camera's battery is nearly dead.
After numerous rappels, arrive at the last one - a 120-ft free rappel straight down into the jaws of death picnic spot.
Sidle up to the edge of certain death without looking down.
Look down.
Let your nephew go first.
Watch as he manages to hang on to the cliff using only his butt cheeks.
Marvel at the amazing gripping power of terrified glutes.
"ON-ROPE"
Army-ranger rappel down to the bottom.
"OFF-ROPE"
Resist the urge to kiss the ground and weep.
See your father in-law, wife, and 15 year-old niece do all of the above and ponder whether
a) you're just a wimp,
b) they're really tough,
c) they really are Vikings, or
d) all of the above
(note: the answer is d)
Hike out of the canyon, spending time playing in swimming holes rejoicing that you still have all of your limbs attached and no known organ punctures.
Enjoy a meal swapping war stories with the rest of the Vikings.

So there you have it. I survived, and found that it was one of the funnest vacations I've been on. I was proud of every scrape, bruise, contusion, and odor I got on that trip. Sign me up for the next raid!

They are all smiling. That's because none of them smell like cow pee yet.

Yeah. We walked through that. Paul actually had to get his nose about 1 inch above the water to dig out Louise's shoes.

I may have neglected to mention that we found Gollum on the trip.

Louise, my mother in-law, rappelling down into the cow pee, with Gollum watching his Precioussssss...

And we just lost a shoe.

Looking up from one of the slot canyons. Freedom seems far away right now.

The aforementioned 'Drowned Cat' pose.

Check out the scale of the canyons.

Em trying to decide which way to go.

I thought this looked really neat, with the vertical crack in the wall.

Ensign Tayler, reporting for duty. Fortunately, he was wearing a blue uniform. Had it been red he would definitely have been eaten by a monster along the way...

... like poor Hjovarlth and Magnus, who didn't make it.

Ready to swim through who knows what.

Em rappelling down into the Cathedral.

Finally getting the hang of it. And for the record, yes farmer tans help when you're canyoneering.

Coming down the last rappel.