Holy Sh*t! It's Shark Week.

As if you didn't already know. Wanna know something you DIDN'T know? Jeremy's personal mantra revolves around Shark Week. It's like he always says, "Jen, Live every week like it's Shark Week."

Am I supposed to capitalize the words 'Shark' and 'Week'? Probably not. But am I gonna? Definitely. You see, at our home, we take Shark Week very seriously. Even before this week begins, Jeremy and I carve out time between our taking over the world and his plans for brewing gasoline in mason jars in our garage to reevaluate our TIVO goals for the week. It's probably the most highly organized anyone will ever see my husband.

It goes down like this. Jeremy will scan through all the shark programs on The Discovery Channel, categorize them and assign his own ranking to them. He likes to get a smattering, if you will, of different programing. He wants a variety of shark-centric programming to fill up our recording space. My husband, he's all about variety, folks. I often heard him say, "If you've seen more than two shark bite programs in a row, you've seen too many."

He then summons me into the room and reviews/defends his choices. He takes this activity so seriously. I can't think of a single time when I've objected to any of his decisions about Shark Week, but for his sake, I just play along like it's imperative that we reach a common goal.

I just checked the TIVO and so far we've recorded the following:

Shark Attack Stories
Surviving The Bite
Day of The Shark
Air Jaws
American Shark
Top Five Eaten Alive*

*Mental Note: I'm not entirely certain the last program scheduled to record has anything to do with sharks. I need to look into that one a little closer.

Survivor Man

This past weekend, our family did a little camping in the Uinta Mountains. We had such a fun time. It's becoming increasingly difficult to post about our camping excursions since we go so often. I mean, how entertaining can it be for my tens of readers out there to see ANOTHER camping trip where we show picture ourselves looking at the fire or ourselves looking at trees or ourselves claiming to be the next Survivor Man? Oh, wait a minute. That last one is totally entertaining.

Here's Jeremy. You should all know him by now.

Here's Jeremy demonstrating what his fire will look like once it takes off. I can't be sure, but he may be using Navy SEAL signals here.


Here's the awesome fire he built. (with gasoline and two matches)

No, wait...here it is.


Here's Jeremy explaining to me what an awesome Survivor Man he would make because he can keep his family warm (fire), provide for his family (he and Reesie caught two fish while Henry and I napped) and because he uses pine needles to pick his teeth.

And Here's Jeremy just seconds later. After he was totally spooked by a confrontational squirrel.

Here's what the squirrel most likely looked like.

Here's what Jeremy would have you believe.

Did you see my mad Photoshoping skills? Be jealous. It's okay.

*Author's Note: There are more camping tales to follow including my stories such as my bad hair day, learning to smile and hiking.

Fourth of July Celebration

This Fourth of July, our family, along with some close friends decided to celebrate our country's independence by exercising our First Amendment and Second Amendment Rights; the right to peaceably assemble (backyard party) and the right to bear arms (fireworks) in that order.

We were so busy this weekend and I am so very tired (the combination of fireworks and cough medicine kill me ever time) that I am offering you only the Cliff's Notes version of our fast and furious Fourth of July Spectacular Featuring The Second Annual Sidewalk of Fire.

Our Friday, Fourth of July can be broken down like this:

Morning to Early Afternoon: Insta-care, hand-cart enthusiast doctor, Amoxicillian, Penicillin, lazy pharmacist, Home Depot, Roman shades, Roman candles, swimming, lounging, frolicking, chip-dippin', hip-slippin', more swimming, thinking about it, nap taking, Walmart crowd fighting, swinging, house cleaning.

To see the entire collection of Reese's first swimming day click here.

Mid to Late Afternoon: Barbecuing mounds of meat, barbecuing mounds of faux meat, Freedom hot dogs, Henry's love interest, cuddling, swooning, tag playing, freedom tag playing, four wheeling in the backyard, bird watching, bug catching.

Early Evening: Ice cream refreshment, ice cream resentment, hot dog dropping (twice), sorbet eating, flirting, more ice cream refreshment, big hat wearing.

Still Early Evening: Reflecting on feelings of freedom,reflecting on feelings of fatigue, stern father figure, smoke bombs in the backyard, snaps spit-wadding (invention of a weapon, folks!), injuries, feats of strength.

Late Evening or as we like to call it The Sidewalk of Fire (second annual): Sparklers, Zombies on fire, Paul almost on fire, Golden Showers (the firework), more smoke bombs, prairie dog impersonations, sneaking up on Henry, startling Henry, camera frustration, camera elation, PSP playing, late-night Maverick Icee runs, midnight tag playing, cuddling, rave gear, buckets of bombs.


To see the rest of our fun on the 4th click here to be linked to our flickr page.

Revenge is Sweet and Sticky...Like Soda

Sometimes your husband's family gets hungry. Sometimes they say to themselves, "Hey, why don't we cook some ridiculous ribs and make a whole lotta of potato salad?" After preparing said foods, they realize they need some help eating all the finger-lickin' goodness they have created so they call in some reinforcements in the form of family members.

When you get that rib/potato salad call, you are ready and you immediately jump into action. But you think to yourself, 'won't we be thirsty after eating all the delicious meat and potatoes?'. Sometimes, not every time, but sometimes, that answer is YES.

So you swing by the convenience store and pick up two bags full of so much soda pop. After all, your husband's family did call in reinforcements. A lot of people will need beverage refreshment.

But sometimes, not everyone answers their telephone. In fact, only you, your husband and your two children show up to eat food.

What to do with all the soda pop? Certainly four adults, one three year old and an eight month old can NOT down six 2-Liter bottles all in one sitting. You try to offer the left over soda as a kind gesture to your in-laws. They are having none of it. Your husband starts giving you Navy Seal signals from the corner instructing you to quickly gather up the kids without causing too much attention to yourself. You do as instructed.

On his signal, which in this case was, "Well, we better go. Love you guys!" you sweep Reesie up in your arms and throw Henry over your shoulder and get the he** out of their house before they notice you leaving without the soda.

You think you've all safely made it outside and to the safety of your getaway vehicle, when suddenly you see this coming down the driveway after you...


Oh, no! That Mother-in-Law must have seen through all the secret hand signs and trickery. She knows you are leaving the soda behind.

"Go, go, go! Start the car!" your husband shouts. You have no choice but to squeal those tires as you peel out of their driveway. You decide to temp fate and get a closer look at your clearly over matched Mother-in-Law as she desperately tries to unload the soda on you.

Sorry, Grandma Lauri. Not today.

You and your husband are so proud of yourselves on the way home. You high-five yourselves for a couple of miles down the road until your hands get sore.

But sometimes, In-laws have long memories and they have soda related revenge in store for you. They are cunning. They let a few days go by. When you come home from a long day at work, you find this on your doorstep...

At first you think some kindly stranger has left you a cold beverage as a treat. But you look closer and see the soda prankster's calling card.

Oh. I. Don't. Think. So.

Quickly, you and your husband put your heads together to formulate a plan so clever and so diabolical that you spend the rest of the night telling each other how awesome the other one is. Again, you high-five yourself until your hands are raw.

You let a few more days go by. Then one early morning your husband sneaks into his parents house and does this...

That's right folks, four liters of stale soda pop poured into 45 2-ounce plastic cups.

What's that? You say you want another look at that? How's about a bird's eye view? This is what sweet revenge looks like from up top.

This is what we look like. Poppin' and lockin' cause we're so awesome. Bring it.

Game on? I think it's game OVER!

No Reason

Sometimes when you come home from a long day at work you just want to do the Robot.




But only sometimes. If you do it too often, you run the risk of looking ridiculous.

Sometimes You're Thirty Three

Sometimes you wake up and it's your birthday. This makes you happy, but kind of sad too. When you hit your thirties (or a few more years into them in this case) your clothes kind of give way. Witness Jeremy's boxers that have the elastic blown out in them.

This is sad, just sad. To make it up to you on your birthday, your spouse suggests taking you and the childrens out to breakfast. You agree because eggs always make you forget your underwear woes.

While at breakfast, you all decide to have a staring contest to see who can hold out the longest without smiling.

You start out all strong. You think to yourself, "It's my birthday and I'm gonna win."


Reesie is stoic even though she doesn't know what a staring contest is.

Henry tries to cheat by wearing glasses to disguise himself.


Mom stares at him intently. She's going to break the Little Man down.


Busted. Henners is no good at these things.

Oh. Now you're starting to crack too. You quickly divert your eyes away so you don't smile. This is a risky move because it blows your concentration completely.

Reesie goes in for the kill. She has really picked it up and the momentum seems to be tipping in her favor.

Yep. An eight month old totally broke you down, dude. You SO smiled first.


A quick glance at Henners shows he is STILL smiling.


Oh, well. Joke's on the rest of the family, you guess. After all, it IS your birthday and you're NOT wearing any underwear.