Lisa n Tom (n James n Joseph)

Tom writes: Lisa and I are still trying to figure out what we want to be when we grow up. Neither of us ever had a clear vision of our perfect career and are kind of amazed to be where we are now. And we are also amazed at the tremendous diversity of jobs that are out there - jobs that you never would have thought of. Driving to work the other day, I almost ran into one - a grooming service for your cat that comes to your house. (Fortunately, I didn't actually run into them - or anyone else). Who woulda thunk up such a job?

Lisa writes: You know what I like to do when we've got the Sunday newspaper spread all over the living room floor? I like to read the most interesting things out loud to Tom. You know what Tom does not like when he's trying to read the Sunday newspaper? Being constantly interrupted by me reading things out loud to him. You know something else? You forget how weird you are, as a couple in your little household bubble, until you have houseguests. We've had houseguests for the past two weekends (Yay houseguests! Come back soon!) and they've taught us that: -- We keep our house colder than normal people. -- We drink too much soy milk. -- We don't drink enough soda. Particularly Diet Dr. Pepper. (Sorry to make life so hard for you, Dad.) (But glad you were able to fend for yourself and find some. You were much perkier afterwards.) -- Tom wears funny hats.

Lisa writes: In the Catholic calendar, there are "50 days of Easter." This is good because it may take Tom that long to eat all the eggs we dyed (I don't like boiled eggs). The tradition comes from the fact that there are 50 days between Easter (the day of Jesus's resurrection) and Pentecost (the day that the Holy Spirit was given to the Church). And from the fact that Nature and the Catholic calendar abhor a vacuum. There must be something going on at all times. So, since we're still in Easter, let me tell you about the Sunday School lesson Tom and I taught last week. We substitute-taught a class of nine squirrelly 5 and 6 year olds. Blessedly, Sunday School is divided into Singing Time, Class, and Sharing Time so we only had to kid-wrangle for 45 minutes. What's the best way to keep kids quiet and in their seats for a 45-minute lesson? Let them get out of their seats and run around. Tom stashed six little Easter symbols all over the grounds around the cha...

Lisa writes: Ooooooooooh, chipmunks. What am I going to do with you? I can't catch you. You are too light to trigger my trap. I can't kill you. It would make Tom cry. The neighborhood cats have no interest in you. (And yet you look so tasty.) You will eat the roots of the plants I want to grow. Our backyard is one big, spongy warren of burrows. One of these days, I'm going to walk across the lawn and and sink up to my knees. You were not here when we bought this house. Why are you here now? And what will it take to get you to go away?

Lisa writes: Yesterday, Kristin asked if my mom decorates for Easter with the same enthusiasm she throws into decorating for Christmas. Answer: Yep.

Lisa writes: And then today our houseguests locked us out of the house. All together, there are four different keys to get into the house and Tom and I only usually carry one of them. Because we live here, we know to only lock one of them. But the houseguests, sweet and kind and concerned for the safety and security of our lovely home, locked EVERYTHING before they left this morning. I came home, reacted poorly, called Tom at work (he reacted ... better) and then sat in my car and nibbled on wilting and melting Costco groceries until Tom came home. He discovered the tiniest bathroom window was unlocked and could be slid open. He borrowed a ladder from the neighbor and was dead set on defying the laws of physics to stuff himself through that window when I convinced him to wait until I scoured the neighborhood for small boys. I found one. We tossed the small boy through the window. (Kid's reaction upon being notified of his assignment? "COOL!") He unlocked the door. We didn...

Lisa writes: The locked door story (and your comments) reminded me of this story about my little brother, Donny. Donny was 4 or 5 and loved to spend as much time in the bathtub (or any water) as possible. One evening, he was supposed to be taking a bath. Being the only boy with three older sisters, he was concerned for his modesty and locked the door. After a long time, the girls wanted to use the bathroom too. We knocked and Donny didn't respond. We tattled and Dad came. Dad knocked, and banged, and yelled, and still no response. So, fearing the worst, Dad body-slammed the door open. Up popped Donny from the bathtub in full snorkel gear. He'd had his ears underwater and hadn't heard anything until the door came flying in. (Note: This was a 70 year old house with ancient doorknobs. Unfortunately, the tiny screwdriver trick would not have worked.)

Lisa writes: We had friends visit for lunch yesterday, and while we boring grown-ups talked and talked at the table, the 5 and 3 year old explored the house and found the stationary bicycle. Moments later, the 5 and 3 year old began fighting and crying over the stationary bicycle so I, in my infinite wisdom, pushed the "lock" button on the doorknob of that room and closed the door. Problem solved ... until later that night when we wanted to open the door. There is a little hole on the exterior knob which, presumably, you stick some sort of implement into to unlock the door, but we lack this implement and nothing else in the house -- and I mean NOTHING, 'cause we tried EVERYTHING -- will work. Tom loves me anyway, and we will both love whomever we find at Home Depot tonight who can point us to the right tool.

Lisa writes: Tom is learning the manly art of faucet replacement. He and my dad swapped out the broken hose faucet yesterday. They also came home from Home Depot with MAPP gas and solder and flux and a pipe cutter. I'll post pictures if we survive this.

Lisa writes: Hellooooo 45-year old house! We have a drip. A little drip. A little drip that only drips when somebody is taking a shower in the master (ha ha*) bathroom. The drip drips into the unfinished basement where it lands harmlessly on a vinyl floor. The drip isn't a huge problem. But fixing the drip, that's going to be tricky. That's going to involve ripping out the entire shower, replacing the floorboards beneath, and installing and retiling a whole new shower. This was something we were going to do anyway, just to make everything prettier. But why is it that now we HAVE to do it out of a sense of urgent drippiness somehow makes me LESS motivated than I was when it was just a matter of seafoam-green-porcelain antipathy? * "Ha ha" because it's 5' x 7' big. I think Tom can stand anywhere in the bathroom and touch all four walls.

Lisa writes: My mom and dad flew into town yesterday for the weekend and Tom's birthday. I picked them up from the airport and took them to lunch on the D.C. waterfront. (Sidenote: I chose the waterfront because it's one of the few places I know how to get to. It's easy! Drive until you hit water.) There were about 20 big, white moving vans parked in front of the restaurants, and cranes, and road crew guys standing around eating sandwiches. The vans all said "Universal Studios." I asked a guy with a clipboard what was going on. (Sidenote: People with clipboards always know what's going on.) He said they were filming " State of Play ." Blank stare from me, but, okay, sure, good, carry on.

Lisa writes: Christi's kids participated in a ski/snowboarding race a couple of weeks ago. (Remember when I said no matter what you're doing right now, Christi's family is having more fun than you are? I'm standing by that.) Christian about to compete against the big guy to the left. One of the race official dudes said Christian, 5, was the youngest snowboarder ever to compete in this race. He took gold in his age group.

Lisa writes: Click on any picture to see it larger.

Lisa writes: Let me set the scene here. Suburban Utah, 50 and 60 year old women, the author is the former Relief Society president (and mother of my former roommate ). Okay. Now you're ready to read this story. "I had a pajama party Friday night for the birthday of a good friend and about a dozen old and young broads. As guests were arriving (but not the birthday girl yet), a couple of nice-looking young men also arrived on my doorstep peddling Honeywell security systems. I was explaining the birthday party situation when my daugher drove up and yelled out the window, 'Hey Mom, did you hire strippers?' What can I say? Instant inspiration: 'Hey, how would you guys like to play a joke on the birthday girl? Would you be willing to pretend to be strippers?' Of course they would, if only I would agree to make an appointment to listen to their pitch. "So my daughter flew home for her camera and I grabbed some dollar bills to pass out to the guests, who were dyin...

Lisa writes: Christi sent this with the note, "Christian coordinated this picture and said it was for Aunt Lisa so here ya go." You're awesome, Christian!

Lisa writes: One more text message last night. Donny : We got on First Class on the way back because we ran into one of Brooke's friends on the plane ride back that just got out of Iraq so they bumped us all up! Hook up! I read this out loud to my coworker (a portly, balding guy) and he held up his hands and said, "That proves it. Pretty people get all the breaks."

Lisa writes: A while ago, I saw a documentary about The Juilliard School. Former, now-famous students were interviewed about their experiences with their favorite instructors at the school. It was either Robin Williams or Kevin Kline who talked about a lovely dance teacher they had; a woman who "floated through life" to her own little song. He (Robin or Kevin) said he remembered seeing her once outside the school. He anxiously watching as she blithely crossed a busy street -- not paying any particular attention to the cars honking and speeding around her -- thinking, "That woman has the fingertip of an angel on her head." Two more blithe angels are in New York right now. My baby brother Donny and his wife Brooke are there for her to audition for Juilliard . I'm pretty sure they've still alive because I keep getting text messages. Tuesday : We just got out of 'Legally Blonde' [the musical]. So funny. And we got tickets for half off through TKTS. Wedn...

Lisa writes: My job is boring. I want to do something else all day. What else is there to do? Anybody got any good ideas?

Lisa writes: The year I was born, "Lisa" was the 2nd most popular baby name in the U.S. , right behind Jennifer (of course). For the previous 8 -- EIGHT! -- years, "Lisa" was the #1 most popular name. But then things went steadily downhill. It's currently #503. My sister, Lori's, name suffered a similar burnout. It started at #20 and currently sits at #955. So all you Emilys and Emmas and Isabellas out there? Enjoy your little day in the sun while you can.

Lisa writes: My niece Madison's birthday is coming up soon, so here are some sketches of Things I Remember About Baby Madison. Sketch 1: I was riding in the backseat, next to Madison in her car seat. I yawned -- a big, huge, eye-closing, gaping yawn -- and Madison stuck her finger in my mouth. I didn't realize she'd put her finger in there and snapped my jaw shut. After she calmed down, she eyed me very suspiciously for the rest of the ride. Sketch 2: Madison was a very serious toddler. None of the usual adult shenanigans would make her laugh. One day she was visiting my house and walked in me in the kitchen as I was dancing to the radio. She silently stood and watched me for a minute, then suddenly burst out "Ha!," turned around, and walked out. Sketch 3: Madison's first favorite word was "puppy." She got a toy rubber cockroach at a little boy's birthday party -- a really gross, nasty, very anatomically correct, 6-inch long, green rubber cockro...