The Echo

The Echo, By C.C. Miller.

’Twas a sheep not a lamb
That strayed away in the parable Jesus told,
A grown-up sheep that strayed away
From the ninety and nine in the fold.
And why for the sheep should we seek
And earnestly hope and pray?
Because there is danger when sheep go wrong:
They lead the lambs astray.
Lambs will follow the sheep, you know,
Wherever the sheep may stray.
When sheep go wrong,
It won’t take long till the lambs are as wrong as they.
And so with the sheep we earnestly plead
For the sake of the lambs today,
For when the sheep are lost
What a terrible cost
The lambs will have to pay.

A Tribute to Baldness

As my hairline continues to recede I have been thinking a lot about baldness and society. Why is it that people like to make fun of bald men? Why am I a bit apprehensive about the process? What is it about being bald that could be so bad? I know I will always have to wear a hat outside in the summer because bald guys can get terrible sunburns up there. But other than that, what is so bad?

There could be advantages too. For example, think of the money bald people save on shampoo, hair products, and time doing their hair.

As I have thought about it, most of the influential men in my life are bald.

My Grandfathers.

My brother the Md, PhD.

My dad. A stallion.

Bald men are prominent on the stage and big screen.

The King.

The Master Jedi.

The Master Spy.

Mr. Jackson.

The Professor.

Mr. Clean!

The Bulldog.

One of the scary things about going bald is not knowing what is actually under that hair.

His Airness.

The Mailman.

The doughnut man.

The Champ.

The Bruce.

I have heard it put like this, God only created a few perfect heads. The rest he covered with hair.

The Mouse Invasion

I realized that I never really explained all the mouse references on our blog. After our first apartment together, where we caught 13 mice in a rather short time period, we assumed that it could never get worse than that. And maybe in numbers that's still true. But we've been traumatized for the last 3 or so months with a new mouse problem. We knew that our old house had mice once in a while - last winter we caught one or two. And this winter we trapped 3. But there were many more that gleefully licked the peanut butter and honey off of our traps and eluded death. We tried different traps, and different bait, and finally I suppressed my gag reflex and bought the mouse poison. I had visions of dead mice rotting in our walls, or better yet, Morgan bringing me a dead mouse with a smile. But we couldn't stand it anymore. You may ask yourself how we knew there was a problem if we weren't catching mice. First it was the rice bag with teeth marks in it. So we moved all the food to inaccessible places and set traps. Then it was the squeaky clean mouse traps that were feeding, not killing, the mice. But worst were the sightings and the noise. It got so bad that I was seeing a mouse a day. My piano student saw one. While Erik's family was visiting, we all sat in the living room and watched a mouse run along the wall. Go to the bathroom in the middle of the night and see a mouse run across the bathroom floor while you're trapped on the toilet. Those kind of things. I started getting really jumpy and checking my shoes before inserting feet. Morgan was oblivious, even after a mouse ran by one foot from her. She was more interested in the blow dryer. The part that had me ready to move out, though, was all the squeaking, scurrying, and burrowing they were doing at night in our bedroom. One morning after a sleepless night, I found a new hole between the floor and the wall right next to my side of the bed. I called Darryl and he plugged it up. And then I listened to them for several nights as they tried to gnaw through steel wool. Naively, I hoped they would just be stuck in there and die. Finally I made Erik trade spots with me in bed so that I could stop hyperventilating. Then they moved to that side of the bed and gnawed on a towel all night. They started playing under our bed , and exhausted, we resorted to ear plugs. I was finally too freaked out by the mice to worry about hearing Morgan in the night. We had done everything we could think of - no food, traps, poison - and it didn't seem to be helping. More holes appeared as soon as we plugged the old ones. One night I walked into the bedroom and froze, for there was a mouse peeping out from under our dresser. Motionless. I hopped on the bed and called for Erik. Now, we're both kind of terrified of mice, but Erik is the manly defender of our home, so I make him take care of them. After chucking cough drops at the body for a while, we decided it was dead, so Erik put on hot pads and reached for it with a plastic bag. And then it darted back under the dresser and scared us almost into incontinence. Turns out it was only mostly dead. Now Erik got mad, and started poking under the dresser for it, eventually wearing it out until it flopped into sight. This time, Erik got it and gave it a nice burial outside in the trash can. I hoped that this might be the end of our nocturnal disturbances, but I was disappointed. We bought more poison, bought more earplugs, and waited stoically for spring, when they would likely migrate outside. We never did catch any more mice, but gradually we stopped seeing and hearing them, and we assume that they have moved on. One thing always puzzled me, and that was how they didn't starve to death. I was imagining magical mice that could climb shelves and burrow through wood, until I pulled a box out from under the bed and dislodged a sprinkle of mouse droppings. I'd been avoiding looking under there, for fear of what I would find, but after we saw the excrement we hitched up our courage and moved the bed. Insert vomiting here. We finally found the source of the problem - a rice bag, one of those homemade ones you warm up in the microwave for toasty feet, that I'd totally forgotten about. The mice had feasted on this bag all winter and pretty much finished it off. And they had defecated all over under the bed, apparently not minding mingling food with poo. It was foul. I encouraged Erik from the safety of the bed while he vacuumed and made discoveries, like an old purse they had nested in and ripped apart. It was a Family Home Evening to remember, and at the end Erik solemnly promised me funding someday to pay for regular extermination. These days, we appear mice-free, although we have fond reminders of them, like the gaping holes between wall and floor, and a few lingering mouse traps. I only shake my shoes once in a while, and am mostly undisturbed by our old house's noises at night. I would like to say that we won and beat back the intruders, but I'm pretty sure they moved on because the rice was dwindling and the outside was warming up. There you have it - our epic mouse saga.

To be continued...next winter.

April part 2

Finally discovered that big people chairs are great for reading in

We watched General Conference (well, watched might be overstating it. Tried to listen while chasing an 18-month old is more like it).

Did some late night driving in pajamas, with lots of singing and goofiness to keep cranky pants entertained

Celebrated Easter

Started attending nursery legally, even though she's been going a little bit for a few months now...

Were visited by Uncle Ben, who kept Morgan entertained for hours. Visit anytime, Ben.

Morgan discovered a passion for shoes, especially other people's shoes

We went to the Children's Discovery Museum in SLC for the first time, and had to drag Morgan away. Annual pass, here we come.

April part 1

Congratulations to me - I'm posting again, and it hasn't even been a month. That might have appalled me once, but now I'm pretty proud of myself. Part of the problem is that Erik has been doing a month-long rotation in Layton for family medicine, and we've been living both in SLC and in Layton at his parents' house. It's nice to be in Layton so that we see more of him, but it's also hard because our life is in Salt Lake. Trying to juggle piano lessons, laundry, naps, and driving back and forth hasn't always left a lot of time for sanity, let alone blogging.

Morgan's been getting a lot of quality grandparent time. Now Nana misses Morgan when she doesn't see her for a day or two - I think residency is going to be a shocker.

We'll be glad when Erik is working in SLC again, although he has really liked this rotation, so much that he's feeling torn between pediatrics and family medicine. After this, he does 4 (?) weeks of neurology, which should be a real thriller, and then he is done with 3rd year. Of course, his 4 weeks off will be spent studying like mad and taking level 2 of the boards, and then we'll start right up with 4th year. I've decided that old saying "there's no rest for the wicked" should add "or doctors." And yet we're trying diligently to have a date once a week, and this is us on one last week.

The Mormon Tabernacle Choir was doing a free Easter concert, so we went. The first half was a little dry, but the second half was great, particularly two amazing songs arranged by the new conductor, Ryan Murphy. We didn't know he did that sort of thing, but we think he's definitely going to give Mack Wilberg a run for his money.

This month we also celebrated Erik's birthday, which meant there was lots of delicious food. What did Erik request? Fajitas, bean dip, and pie.

Somehow pie translated to strawberry pie, buttermilk pie, fudge, and mini cheesecakes. We didn't mind.

He got some necessary gifts like socks, but the real winner was the much desired iPhone. It's pretty much a member of the family now. So if you see pictures that are a little blurry, it's because Erik is spurning our camera and is taking pictures with his baby.

The whirlwind that was March

One of the most wonderful and important things that happened this month was the purchase of this lovely jogging stroller. I have heard nothing but raves about BOBs, but unfortunately their pricing matches their quality. After looking for about 6 months in the classifieds, I finally found a used BOB in good condition and at a good price. These babies are often sold for more used than most jogging strollers cost new, if that gives you an idea of how pricey/beloved/long lasting these are. One great deal later, here go Erik and Morgan on a run. Here's why I love this stroller so much: Erik needs to run, but feels guilty leaving us as soon as he comes home. Erik and Morgan need quality time, but there's not much to be found by the time he gets home. Morgan loves going outside. Lauren needs a break once in a while, especially around that hard time when Morgan is getting tired and dinner needs to be made. The solution? The jogging stroller!! Voila, we are all happy.

This is what happens later in the evening, when Morgan takes a bath: Erik turns into a hair stylist. We've had some real winners over the last 18 months.

While on one of our many outings to the library, Morgan found this lovely nook, and I thought, "Hey, what a nice photo op!"

Pretend that look on her face is joy, and not irritation that Mama wouldn't let her move. Morgan and I know our way around the library pretty well by now - Morgan knows how to push the handicap button to open the doors, she knows to push the elevator button and get in, and she knows the fastest route to the children's section, where each time she squeals with glee and runs around making library-inappropriate amounts of noise.

Around the middle of March, my family came up to Cedar City, and Ben, Morgan and I traveled down. I know that it looks like I'm always going places without Erik, and it's true, I do. If I waited for Erik to have time, my family would never see Morgan again and I would never leave Salt Lake. We've come to terms with this. Or at least, I have. Erik understands, but still hates when we're gone.

Visiting Kolob Canyon. Morgan is fascinated with snow, and calls it "nnno." This was the first time she'd ever tried eating it.

Grandpa maintaining discipline: "Better be good, or else..."

Don't you dare try to take me away from Grandma!

And then... I flew to North Carolina, unaccompanied by my miniature sidekick. Holy cow, to fly across the country without worrying about changing diapers in cramped lavatories, flying binkies, carting baby food and drinks through security, and keeping a restless baby quiet and on your lap...bliss. In a 3-day trip, my first significant time away from Morgan, I managed to read 800 pages, go to an IMAX movie, attend a wedding, see family for the first time in 12 or more years, just chat with my dad, go out to eat several times, and sleep peacefully through the night (when I wasn't reading, that is). But of course, there were withdrawals. I stared hungrily at every baby I saw, I chatted up parents on all my flights, and I almost cried when Morgan would shout "mama!" on the phone. I'm learning that once you become a parent, there is never truly a moment when you leave it behind. And that's mostly a good thing. :)

Here's what happened when I was away...

A wonderful time spent with grandparents and dad. She hardly missed me.

On the docket for April:

1. Kill mice. All of them. Plug up holes they are carving between carpet and walls.

2. Attend the twice a week exercise class taught at the church. Learn to be proud of sweat.

3. Stop traveling, stay home, and remind Erik that he has a family.

A Day Out

Morgan and I had a rough day a while back, right after I read this post. And I thought, hey, we have a Petco nearby. Morgan loves animals. I love being out of the house. So we went to Petco! It was a very glamorous field trip. I showed her all the rodent-y things, which somehow are a lot more cute when they're in cages and not scratching under your bed all night. She was interested, but not nearly as fascinated as she was when we discovered the birds.

She was bored by the fish, which surprised me, and kind of scared of the reptiles (clever girl, Mommy is too). We finally discovered where they hid the cats, and she was all over that. Right now she has a fixation on birds and cats - don't tell her they're mortal enemies - and when she wants to go outside to look for them, she meows or chirps. And then she brings my boots to me.

Right behind the Petco is this lovely hidden park in the middle of busy commercial Sugarhouse. Morgan loves watching the water, so I figured while she was entertained in a nice setting, I would try to take some pictures. I'm always frustrated by their lack of professionalism, but I guess that's what you get when you're an amateur with a point and shoot camera. I made a list the other day of things I want to learn about, and photography was top of the list.

Nana called while we were playing, and came to join us. The fact that Nana had to keep working a little didn't decrease her charm for Morgan - in her eyes, technology is a bonus, especially if she can steal it.

And then, having salvaged the day, we came home to Erik.

Thank you Missy for the inspiration!