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The Conversation Piece March 22, 2010

Posted by Emily in : Exercise, My Handsome Husband , 2comments

When David arrived home this weekend the kids and I practically tackled him to the ground.  Let’s just say, it feels like he’s been gone a lot longer than five days.  We only have NINE more weeks of him being gone all week and only seeing him on the weekends.  Can you believe it?  :)

Guess what he came home sporting?

Yep.

FIVE FINGER SHOES.

They are quite the conversation starter if you know what I mean.

David is in love with them, and within 24 hours of being home, he convinced his dad to buy a pair of his own.  I’ll be getting a pair just as soon as they’re available in my size at the ONLY store that sells them within 60 miles of my house.

They are in pretty high demand, and they’re not available at many places.

It’s not recommended that you buy them online, because you really have to try them on to get the right fit.  (You know me, I prefer to buy everything online from the comfort of my basement, so I was a little bummed that I actually have to GET MY BODY out the door and DRIVE to a store to buy them.)

Before you know it, David will convince you too.  Read this book and you will be a believer.

We also had a great time meeting up with friends this weekend and I had some fun shoots.

I think we’re going to miss Utah when we leave here in a few months.  ;)

Their Bodies are Made of Rubberbands July 23, 2009

Posted by Emily in : Daily Life, Exercise, Photography , 1 comment so far

I may have mentioned a time or two how David and I like to do P90X Yoga.

It kicks our butts.

But . . .

These guys make yoga look effortless.

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Check out how happy the Nick Lachey look-a-like is in the front!

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The setting sun could not have bee more perfect for this pose.

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I was shooting for an assignment and decided to photograph some instructors at a nearby yoga studio.

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This dude is from Bulgaria and he owns the studio.

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This guy teaches there.

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Don’t let this nice face fool you!  I’m afraid to take his class!

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My form is not exactly this straight.

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And I’m 100% positive I can’t do this.  Should I be able to do this?  When would I ever need my body to do this?  Anybody?  Hello?

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Don’t look at this happy face.  This pose is NOT THAT EASY.

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And this one?  I don’t even want to think about it.

I was offered free yoga lessons from these guys after shooting these images.

As nice as it was for them to offer me classes, I was all, no thanks.

I’ll leave my soft, uncoordinated, inflexible self at home.

Things That Make Me Happy May 20, 2009

Posted by Emily in : Exercise, Little Man Dallin, My Handsome Husband , 3comments

I may have mentioned my kissing-baby-cheeks-addiction one, two, three, four, five, or like a hundred times.

As I was smooching this little guy’s face off, trying not to inhale it, I had a thought.

Possibly a MILLION dollar thought.

Dallin’s soft cheeks tasted like smores.

Warm, chocolaty, marshmallowy smores.

Kissing his soft little fat cheeks gave me all the satisfaction of eating a cake with a trillion calories, minus all the calories.

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See?  A million dollar idea . . .

If I could just bottle up his smell, and sell it on Ebay, I’d make millions.

Women would thank me all over the world.

But since I’m not an engi-nerd, or science-nerd, or logistic-nerd, this is probably not going to happen.

Still, the thought is nice.  Even if I’m the only woman who benefits from consuming less calories everyday by kissing my son. That makes me very happy.

Other things that made me happy this week:

If I Were in Charge April 24, 2009

Posted by Emily in : Daily Life, Exercise , 9comments

Once, when I was working out with Denise Austin, (on TV of course, I don’t actually know her) she said, “You can’t store fitness, you only store fat!” David and I started P90X again tonight, and honestly, I worked out enough for like seven days.  But, apparently, that’s not how this fitness thing works.  Well, fitness with results anyway.

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It’s kind of depressing to think about all the things we do daily that we have to do again, and again, and again.

Honestly.

I just want to say, “Hey, I worked out  once like five years ago.  Don’t bother me about it again!”

So, if I were in charge, I’d make the following permanent changes: (And please, don’t over analyze this, you critical thinkers.  I don’t want lots of emails telling me how this would NEVER work because the world would self-destruct or something.)

This would make my life 1000% easier.

Hannah Newsletter #11 March 24, 2009

Posted by Emily in : Church, Daily Life, Exercise, Family, Friends, Kansas, Little Man Dallin, Medical School, My Handsome Husband, Princess Hannah , 3comments

Dear Hannah,

You are now 32 months old.  You and your cousin, Malaya, made some big changes this month.  You both moved from Utah to different states.  Malaya moved to hip happenin’ Las Vegas, Nevada, and you ended up smack dab in the middle of the United States in a state called KANSAS.

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(Malaya and Hannah, both two and a half years old)

People are very friendly here.  Why do I know this?  Because you introduce yourself to anyone and everyone within earshot of your voice.  If they’re not in earshot, you just use your VERY LOUD outside voice to chat with them.  You always introduce yourself saying, “Hi, I’m Hannah.  This is my mommy, Emily. This is Dallin boy.  He’s just a baby.  This is Paris.  She is my dog. She is a stinker-dog.  My daddy is a real doctor for me.  What’s your name?”  I love how you emphasize that your daddy is a real doctor “for you.”  It implies that you understand much more than I think you do.  For the record, your dad is a third year medical student.  He is  “real doctor” in training.  He certainly knows a lot, but cannot write out prescriptions yet.  He most certainly is a real doctor, even if only for you.

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You are one chatty little girl, and every morning, you wake up announcing very loudly, “THE SUN IS AWAKE!  THE SUN IS AWAKE!  DID YOU SEE MOMMY!  OUT MY WINDOW!  DO YOU WANT TO PLAY A GAME NOW?”

That is my cue to come into your room and get you.  Notice how I said come into your room and get you? That’s because somehow, you figured out about that invisible fence around your bed and if you get off without our permission, or without us watching you, you’ll get shocked.  Just like those invisible dog fences.  We haven’t told you otherwise, so for the past six months (since you started sleeping in a big girl bed) you have been calling out to us to retrieve you from your slumber.

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Did I already mention you talk from sun up to sun down?  Because you do.  You can thank me for your chatty ways and your dad for your very articulate speech.  He works with you on every word till you say it just right.

There are just a couple of words that have slipped through your speech lessons, and I love to hear you say them:

Nop:  really is the word MOP, but you are convinced that we are up in the night when we correct you.

Ekersize:  is the word, EXERCISE.  I love this word from you.  I hope you always say it.

Some of my favorite phrases are:

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I have a superpower of being able to lose copious amount of hair daily, and regrow the same amount every day.  Instead of just letting hundreds of hair strands drop to the bottom of the shower to clog the drain, (which, from personal experience, only takes one shower with my head of hair) I strategically place the lost strands on the shower wall, which is where they stay until I get out of the shower and dry off.  Any time you come it to my bathroom to chit chat it up with me while I get ready you point out and exclaim in shear horror, “MOMMY!  IT’S THE HAIRY BEAST!  DAD’S NOT GOING TO LIKE IT!”  I will admit, it does look like the loch-ness monster has invaded the shower and splat itself on the wall.  Way to look out for your dad.

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At church this last Sunday, you were brought to me from nursery because you were, well . . . STINKY.  As you entered the room full of women (in the Mormon church, we have three hours of service.  The last hour the men and women meet separately. The women’s meeting is called Relief Society,) you announced to me in your very loud voice, “Mommy!  I have a stinky!  Mommy!  Change my poopie!  I want to go back to nursery!  I don’t want to stay in here with you!  I want to get a flower at nursery!  Mommy!  I don’t want my bum bum to hurt!  Can you change my diaper!  It’s bothering me!”

Ladies were snickering and quietly giggling.  And as we left that room together with you still explaining your dire diaper situation, I’m sure someone in that room was thinking, “Man, why isn’t that kid potty trained?”

Even if that someone was me.

The answer?  Because you don’t want to be.

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You are a delight.  I love how friendly and welcoming you are to everyone.  You love your brother so much.  You always want to hold his hand when we sit down and read books together.  He doesn’t really like his hand being tied down like that, but that doesn’t stop you.

We have introduced “time-outs” in the last few months.  It works for you.  And you know what works for me?  When you think I’ve done something out of line and you very authoritatively tell me, “Mommy, you need a time out.  You need to think about it.”

Gladly.

I’ll take one of those.  Maybe two.

Love,

Mommy

Age is Just a Number February 7, 2009

Posted by Emily in : Daily Life, Exercise, Little Man Dallin , 3comments

Dallin is a big fan of Tony Horton (you know, the P90X dude).  He takes almost everything he says to heart.  He fits in a good exercise routine daily, regardless of how busy he is sleeping, eating, pooping, or cooing.

Like this for example:

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He usually starts off the day by completing 100 planks or more.  He loves them and his form is decent.

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Well, his elbows could be a little straighter, and his back flatter, but give the kid  a break, he’s only seven months old.

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Dallin is a firm believer in what Tony says, and Tony says, “Age is just a number.”  Yep.  You heard him.  Who says you can’t crawl at six months old?  That’s right, the only limitations you have are the ones you put on yourself.

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Dallin is always finding something mischievous to get into.  (Note our little stinker-dog-Paris lurking in the background.)

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The kid crawls, but can’t sit up on his own.  Now this is a little backwards, but who says you have to follow all the rules?

Age is a just a number people.  Just a number.

(As a side note, we hope Dallin’s accelerated physical ability does not denote delayed verbal skills.  The kid is going to talk, right? )

Happy New Year! December 31, 2008

Posted by Emily in : Exercise, Family, Holidays, Little Man Dallin, My Handsome Husband, Photography , add a comment

I look forward to the following things in 2009:

We plan to ring in the new year sitting in our warm house, drinking hot chocolate and Martinelli’s.  We may or may not stay up until midnight watching New Year’s Rockin Eve . . . but I’m sure our little man Dallin will give us a wake up call sometime early 2009 and David and I will kiss and ring in the new year then.

My Husband Looks Hot When . . . September 19, 2008

Posted by Emily in : Daily Life, Exercise, Family, Little Man Dallin, My Handsome Husband, Utah , add a comment

David has never golfed so much in his life.  Since moving to Utah in May, he and his dad have golfed every week.  EVERY WEEK PEOPLE.  Without fail, no exceptions, no sick days, no rain checks . . . EVERY WEEK.  I’m sure this is every guys dream: to have a recently retired dad to golf with during the week.  For the most part, I have been very supportive of him going.  I understand he needs an out, and something to take his mind off medical school.  But secretly, sometimes I’m like, what the heck?  You’re leaving again?  I want to go to a spa every week.  That ‘s the equivalent of golf to me!  You golf, I’ll got to the spa . . . sounds fair.

So far, I haven’t made it to a spa.  Not even once.  (Well, if you count the nail salon inside Walmart where I got a pedicure for $25 from an an Asian man who doesn’t speak English . . . then I have been.  However, having your feet vigorously rubbed by a man that you can’t communicate with, in a store where you can buy cereal and bicycles, isn’t my idea of a spa.)

Several times this summer, David has asked me to ride along with him while he golfs.  He thought I would enjoy the peaceful atmosphere and beauty of the course.  This week, Dallin and I tagged along.  I had to make Dallin SWEAR he wouldn’t cry, and I SWORE I would wear Dallin in the Snugli for all 18 holes to ensure his comfort. (What else is new?  I wear him all the time anyway . . .)

We did have a wonderful time.  Dallin slept on me until hole 15, and then he nursed while David drove the golf cart like a crazy man looking for his stinkin’ ball.

I learned a few things while I was out golfing with David:

I can nurse anywhere, anytime, doing anything.

I can drive a golf cart while wearing my sleeping son in a Snugli

I can take lots, and lots of pictures of just about anything, and at any angle, WHILE MY SON SLEEPS ON MY PERSON.

Looking for a golf ball can be very boring.

My husband looks hot when he golfs.

My husband looks hot in a golf shirt and khakis

My husband looks hot while concentrating on hitting the ball

My husband looks hot when he swings

My husband is hot, and this is why I refer to him as my “Handsome Husband”

I probably am not that interested in learning how to play golf, (the tedious task of chasing after such a tiny ball kind of seems silly) but I do love how beautiful and quiet golf courses are, so I will certainly accompany him again.  Plus, I love to see my handsome husband in action. :)



This is my handsome husband.  He takes the game of golf very seriously.



This is his dad, Dennis.  He is also very serious about the game of golf.



This is the part (right before/during the swing) where you are supposed to be quiet.  Dallin and I didn’t always comply.  Not all the rules apply to us you know.



This photo almost sums up the day. LOOKING FOR THE DANG BALL.



Shush!  Men trying to concentrate here.



There he goes . . . chasing after that little ball again.



Isn’t he so handsome?  He is very serious about this game!









I thought this was so beautiful.  The reflection of the mountain in the pond was amazing.



Glad I went.  Gald Dallin was introduced to the game.  I’m sure this was just the first of many golf games for him.  With a dad like David, our son has no choice but to love the game.

And Then a Miracle Happened . . . September 19, 2008

Posted by Emily in : Daily Life, Exercise, Family, Little Man Dallin, My Handsome Husband , 6comments

I haven’t had five minutes to think to myself without the constant wail of Dallin’s crying this week.  We took him to the pediatrician this week for his two month appointment and it was somewhat enlightening.  First, he is a tank, which my back could have told you from carrying him around all day in the Sugli.  Weighing in a 15 pounds, 5 ounces at 10 weeks old, he is in the 97th percentile.  Not exactly normal for a breastfed baby.  He should weigh less.  The doctor seems to think he is nursing out of comfort and is obviously overeating because he is in a lot of pain.  I’m not a doctor, and I could have deducted that he is “in a lot of pain” from all the screaming he does.

The doctor then told us about a possible side effect from his acid reflux medication.  HEADACHES.  I was all, are you freaking kidding me?  It’s possible that my kid has had a headache for two months!  NO WONDER HE SCREAMS!  We have been giving him Tylenol like it’s candy (okay like every four hours as directed) and he seems to be doing a lot better.  He still has to fall asleep in the Snugli (an issue we will be addressing in the next few days because our backs simply cannot lug him around all day FOREVER) and that is somewhat inconvenient, but QUIET for us.

David and I started a new work out program this week (I’ll post about it later) and often times we don’t get our workouts in until midnight because one of us has had to hold Dallin and help to get him to chill out while the other works out.  YES, THAT IS LATE.  YES WE ARE COMMITTED.  YES, WE ARE CRAZY.

Last night, we had 90 minutes of power yoga to do, and we wanted to do it together (to save on time so one of us would not have to do yoga at midnight) but Dallin was little uptight about staying asleep.  I have had this thought several times, and last night David voiced it for me, “Don’t you wish we had a mannequin we could set him on so we wouldn’t have to hold him?”

And then my husband, (who finds very creative solutions for everything) did this:

Dallin is sleeping.  For all he knows, he is still attached to one of us, upright.  David hooked the straps of the Snugli around the Bowflex machine and he is up against the couch.



See, we even covered his eyes for added comfort.  (I’ll be buying him an eye mask today.)  This cute little guy slept like this for two hours.  More than enough time for us to do yoga (check out David in the photo in warrior pose) and relax a little.

This is why I married this man.  BECAUSE HE SOLVES MY PROBLEMS.  Now, if he could just figure out Dallin’s problems and solve them . . .

Where Are Their Stylists? August 24, 2008

Posted by Emily in : Exercise, Little Man Dallin, My Handsome Husband, Sports, Thoughts , 1 comment so far

I have thoroughly loved watching the Olympics over the last two weeks.  Every night, I tell Dallin to chill out, so I can watch the most disgustingly talented people on the planet compete.  I LOVE watching Gymnastics and synchronized swimming.  And hey, who doesn’t get a thrill watching Michael Phelps win gold metal after gold metal?

I just have one tiny little question for that “infamous council of they” (you know, “they” that know the answer to everything).  If these athletes have access to the best coaches and training in the world, then why on Earth DON’T THEY HAVE PROFESSIONAL MAKE-UP ARTISTS DOING THEIR FACES?  You can’t expect athletes to be perfect at everything, and a make-up artist on site could make the events so much easier on the eyes. Honestly, Shawn Johnson is a darling girl, but at 16 years old, you can’t expect her to know how to do professional make-up for TV.  You would think that someone on the Olympics council would hire an artist for every country, for every event.  Aren’t they interested in making TV look good?

Did anyone see Shawn Johnson interviewed on NBC?  Someone, who knew to do her make-up and hair, made Shawn look awesome.  David was shocked to see her so “wow” looking.  Make-up done properly, and a little style in your hair can go a long way.

All I’m saying is that if I was at the Olympics, I WOULD PERSONALLY HIRE, AND FLY OUT MY VERY OWN STYLIST (Like Ken Paves or someone else in high demand).  I would certainly want to look my best when the whole world watched me.

So I am in love with synchronized swimming.  It is AMAZING.  The Russians are incredible, and if you didn’t see their gold metal performances, you missed out!  You to see their performance on the link below.   Just scroll down to “Duet Final: Russia’s Gold Medal Routine”.

Exclusive Summer Olympics news & widgets at NBC Olympics.com!

I just have to say one thing . . . Why would you want to cake on make-up to jump in a pool? No, really! I honestly don’t get why they cake on TONS OF MAKE-UP. My face just itches thinking about it.

I hope they all have facials scheduled.