What Mormon Families Do On Vacation

So. 
This happened almost a month ago.  I keep trying to move on without posting about it, but when i do I am plagued with thoughts like...  but my future posterity will think that we didn't do anything fun in the summer of 2012! or... what if the girls forget about that time that I let them climb into a giant keg that was hanging from the ceiling of a 200 year-old barn? 
And I just can't have it. 
So. 
Late or not, here it is (for the posterity). 

We went to Utah.  I drove my car and it was hot and we were crowded and there was so much junk food that we hardly had anywhere to sit.  It took forever and Brittany cried laughing when I showed her my new bangs-cut and I almost crashed the car because I was crying too.  But for a much different reason.  (You'll notice that the bangs are back in every. single. picture.  You're welcome for that.)

Dr. Webb (yes, I will be calling him that from now on.  Acutally, no.  I won't.) had to stay home and work himself half to death.  I felt bad about that for a few seconds sometime around the third day but then I got back to having fun. 

The first thing we did was attend the Hill Family Reunion.  There are like a million people in this family (and how did I not get a single picture of anyone?!) and they are all amazing. 
And super intimidating. 
And crazy talented. 

I don't think you're grasping just how incredible they all are, so I'll elaborate. 

One is a broadway actress.  One is a popular magazine photographer and blogger.   One is in the tabernacle choir.  Several are models.  One looks exactly like Megan Fox.  One made an extremely impressive bird's nest necklace during craft time. 
And they are ALL perfect and extremely attractive. 

We knew we couldn't compete with all the awesomeness, so we just spent the day making complete fools of ourselves. 
For example. 
We saw a barrel hanging from the ceiling, and naturally we piled into it. 

We couldn't stop with a barrel, so we tried the box cars. 

Just as fun.  Maybe funner.  (I just heard my dad in my head scolding, "Funner is not a word!!!"
I respectfully disagree.)

Since we hadn't embarrassed ourselves enough already, we were rather excited to stumble upon a medieval building with authentic tools and gear and... naturally... torture equipment. 

Brendan and Braden (my bros.) tested them out for us.   


It's a small miracle that they both still have all their limbs.

There was also a jousting stadium where the boys jousted against each other using only their arms. 
That was about the time that we became officially ostracized from the family.

Oh, and my teen sister Chelsey decided to try out the stocks.  Which was funny until my Dad wouldn't let her out. 
Then it was hilarious.  

Who's laughing now, little miss snarky?

About half-way through the reunion, the girls decided to try their hand (pun intended) at rock climbing.  

 All was well until one did better than the other.  (This is usually the root of all my problems.  I have some compulsively competitive children.  No idea where they get that from...)

Then the one that didn't do better than the other spent the rest of the day asking why she didn't do better than the other and demanding that she get to try again so she could do better than the other.


 
 
In the end, we called it a tie and all was well once more.



Once the reunion ended, we found ourselves recovering from our 2 days of fun up at the Big House. 
The Big House is a big house that my grandparents own that is in the woods.  Bambi frequents the front yard,

there are 7 bedrooms and 4 floors of awesome, 

the views are breathtaking,

you can play volleyball on the front lawn (but you will have to chase the ball down a cliff and into the forest several times),



there is an enormous dinosaur egg on the property  (I thought the girls would love this but after inspecting it for about 6 seconds, they concurred that it was a fake.  Real ones are speckled.  Apparently.),

room to run people over with toy airplanes,

and a wonderful place to be able to spend time together as a family.

 
 
This house holds so many of my childhood memories.  My first Santa experience.  The time I got food poisoning and wished for death.  The beginning of my phobia of bats.  The day my little sister almost bit her tongue off.  The winter I hit a tree while sledding.  The room where I got kissed for the first time by a teenage crush.
Wow. 
If these walls could talk...
(they'd tell some pretty embarrassing stories).

While in Utah, we of course had to do our annual BYU day.
 
We hit up the sidewalk sale,
walked everywhere holding hands,

ate lunch at the Cougareat, and of course went bowling.



 
(There are so many hilarious things going on in this picture.
Namely, one mom with her tongue hanging out awkwardly, one child showing the amount of sleep she did not receive on this vacation, one boy trying to sneak a snack, and one girl who's onto his tricks.)

 

Every year we go bowling at BYU and every year I loose. 

NOT ANYMORE, MY FRIENDS. 

 Boo to the ya.
Who's competitive now, suckas?!
(P.S. One year in college I went bowling on a date and I got a wildly impressive score of 30.  He never called back.)

Next, we went to the BYU Dinosaur Museum. 
They said free and I came running. 

It was great and the kids loved it.  

And somewhere along the road, Brooklyn turned into a tour guide.  She literally started teaching a lecture right there in the Jurassic Era gallery.

As soon as we got home from the trip, she started packing a suitcase and informed me that she was getting her bags ready for when she goes to BYU and works as a fossil brusher.  

Slow down, child.

We also had the privilege during this vacation of partaking of a Spanish Fork snow cone.  

 

(She's hiding behind her cup because her lips are blue and she's a teenager.  2 things that are not socially acceptable at the same time.)

 Grandma snuck Cameron a little taste during a covert operation and he was beyond thrilled.

 

 

Also, you should know that this was the last night of the vacation.  That's why Cameron was cruely strapped into his carseat the. entire. night.  

I was SO done by that point.

 

Our vacation included some awesome moments that must be documented only in words. 

Included: 

-shakes at Glades

-the Lovelace Family over for chicken pot pie and FHE

-meeting up with my Iowa girls at the water park

- shopping the Quiksilver outlets

-attempting to watch "Mirror Mirror" in the theater.  Cameron wouldn't hear of it.

-swimming at Brad's new apartment.

-getting cooked at the Payson water park

-the 3-D Dinosaur movie at Thanksgiving Point

So. 

Future posterity, we did do something fun in the Summer of 2012.  

Told you.

Baby, You're A Firework

I'm a little behind on the blogging.  

It's summer and we've been off doing a million things in a million places at a million miles an hour.  

So, this will be short and sweet.  

(Or, at least short.)

(OK.  Probably not short either, but shorten than I could make it if I wanted to.  I take a LOT of pictures, people.)

For the Fabulous Forth, we visited the parentals in Orange County.  

 

We spent the day just as we should have by first almost breaking our necks on the trampoline.

Then Britt decided to teach my kids and thing or two.

She tried dive rolls, handsprings, and flips.  

 In the end, all she managed to teach them was that she is so much cooler than I am.

 Look what this girl can do.  

 OK, now you're just showing off...

 Seriously. Stop it.

 Since we had managed to not break our necks on the trampoline, we then tried to drown ourselves. 

 

Braden also decided to teach my kids a thing or two.  

He tried teaching Aubrey how to swim and Brooklyn how to surf.  

 In the end, all he managed to teach them was that he, too, is so much cooler than I am.

  

 Next, we ventured to the worst fireworks show in the state of California. 

 (I just noticed the kid in the red chair behind us.  Well, hello there.)

While the fireworks were lamer than lame, (they didn't have a single ginormous gold sparkly shoot-off glittery one.  I could argue that that alone makes it not even qualify as a fireworks show.) the girls liked it.  

And that's all that matters.  

Happy 4th.

Good Mornin' Sunshine

 

 

Without question, my favorite time of day.

 

 

 Until this happens...

WebbMD

This week, Dr. Webb (who happens to be my husband, thankyouverymuch) began Residency.  

After 6 weeks of having him at my beck and call and  making him my own private whipping boy, he decided to go and start playing doctor.

Luckily, there is a law that Residents may not work more than 80 hours a week.  

Unluckily, there is not a law that Residents may not work more than 79.5 hours a week.  

Because that's what we're looking at, folks.

Let's reiterate.  

79.5 HOURS. A. WEEK. 

Consider me rudely awakened. 

On the bright side: We get to look forward to his homecoming most days.  

(Except the days that he's on call which is about 4 times a week, and the kids will already be in bed when he gets home).  

I made him put his coat on for the picture.  It's currently blazing outside, and no, he does not wear his white coat while driving to show off for the rest of the cars on the freeway.  

I totally would, though. 

On the dark side: This means that I now get the pleasure of taking all 3 kids to church most Sundays all by my lonesome.  

Which would be a lot easier if one child in particular did not have ants in his pants, demand to climb every stair/bench/music stand/chair/briefcase and piano bench in the building, and had not recently learned how to screech like a howler monkey. 

I still love church, though.

And on the other bright side, I get gems like this:

He was out cold in 30 seconds flat.

Welcome to Residency, Dr. Webb.