Why I Love Arizona (even when it's 110+ degrees)

Ok, so I've totally stopped doing this series because frankly, I haven't loved Arizona for about a month and a half. I'm tired of sweating all. the. time. I'm tired of hearing the air conditioner chugging away all day to keep it below 80 degrees. (Sometimes it succeeds)

Like the Bostonian in March (or April--yikes!) who can't imagine a time when they won't need their scarves tied around their head, a Phoenician in September can't imagine a time when they will ever want any sort of bed covering over them at night.

But, my sister, Rachel has inspired me with her post about Carolina's, a family favorite. It's in downtown Phoenix, Mojave and 12th Street, in a pretty rough neighborhood. Their tortillas are SO good and huge! But, I'm with Rachel, the bean and potato burrito is to die for!

He taught me how to praise my god and still play rock and roll

Love blog hopping (which I prefer to the term, stalking, though I'm completely guilty of that, too. But really, is it stalking if you don't know them? Or, is it just pathetic?)--anyway, how else would I have found this?

Grandma Wanda and the Choo-Choo Trains

Some of our faithful readers (all three of them) may have noticed that Asher has a bit of a train obsession. Grandma Judy is working on a book for Asher (she makes one for each of the grandkids with a particular theme when they are about 3), and it's about Asher and trains.

Up in Boulder City, they have a full size train that runs on the weekend. We also hadn't been up to see Grandma Wanda for a while, so on Thursday, we decided to crash a trip up there that Judy and Starr had planned (are we fun and spontaneous or what?!). Asher was the happiest kid ever--he even looked full on at the camera and smiled.

The boys (all of them) loved sitting by Grandma Wanda on the train.

We even got a picture to put in Nate's Father's Day picture frame (finally).

Asher and Luke were so good on the driving part of the trip, and it was so nice to see Grandma Wanda, Susan and Larry. We may go on vacation more often!

Nothing is better than a Grandma Wanda snuggle!

Nate is winning the battle...

...but I will win the war.

Ah, some blogger I am! I have managed to leave off the details of the fight Nate and I had to name Luke.

Nate wanted to name Luke, "Thor." I thought that was a dumb name. We're not Norse--we're barely Scandanavian. (Of course, Nate counters, "Well, we're not Jewish, and we have a kid named, 'Asher.'") Whatever...how would you feel calling out for "Thor" in the mall playground? (This is final test for naming my children: will I feel stupid calling their name in the mall playground? I know it's saved one of my kids from being named, "Ephraim.")

Anyway, our compromise was to make Luke's middle name, "Thoreau." I figured we could disguise "Thor" and make us look like fancy intellectuals at the same time.

But, Nate has been working hard to get Luke to answer to "Thor."

Yesterday, a woman at the grocery store said to Luke, "What's your name?"

Luke's response?

"Thor" (Fortunately, as you can hear from the video, it doesn't sound much like "Thor.")

Blast from the Past

My friend, Andi, posted this on Facebook (she's the cute redhead in the front row).

But, I'd like to point out a mystery--why are my roots are so dark? (I'm the one in the pink jumper and white shirt with the dark roots) I swear I didn't start coloring my hair for at least another 7 years.

I suppose it was a harbinger of things to come. My roots start showing 5 minutes after I get my hair colored nowadays. Sigh, it's hard to be a (fake) blonde.

Thanks for the laughs, Andi!

Asher is up for grabs, too.

Ok, I really should be a better mom who posts glowing stories about her kids. Maybe tomorrow...


Tonight, after a rather long (but enjoyable) day, the boys and I were watching a little Toy Story, hoping our dad might make it home to help put everyone to bed. Asher left for a bit and came back, tapping my foot with a permanent marker. Apparently, in a moment of pure insanity, Asher took to writing all over everything he could get his grubby little hands on.

The red wall's last coat of paint was finished 2 hours before this happened. You can see where I tried to paint over the marker. Yep, we'll be scrubbing and priming the wall tomorrow night. Magic Eraser was no help here.

Fortunately, Magic Eraser did save all the white walls Asher got to...

Really, what sort of damage would Asher have done if I had made it a habit of making my bed?!

But the part of this whole saga that makes me sick to my stomach is the couch we're storing for our friends as they remodel. I knew Leonore would be nice about her defaced couch, but it still took me about an hour to be able to call her so I didn't start crying.

I was right; she was very gracious. She didn't even point out that the white couch had been in her house for 10 years with 4 kids, and yet, it couldn't survive 3 weeks in my house with 2 kids.


Nah, I'm still mad at him...

I think this all feels just as bad (maybe a little worse) as when I was babysitting my brother, David, 20 years ago, and he took a permanent marker to my mom's brand new couch. I thought I would have to move to Utah to live with my grandparents.