Photoshoot

You know how it has become very popular to have your own glamour photoshoot? Then you can photoshop the crap out of every shot until you look like America's Next Top Model, post them on your facebook wall, and count how many "friends" tell you how beautiful you are.  This trend has not caught on in my family; they are still stuck in the "take a funny one" stage. 

"Pretend I'm reading the book with this family."

"Take a serious one; so we both look like prophets."

"What do you mean this isn't Santa Clause?"

 While other families enjoy pretty pictures, we will continue to enjoy this.

The Second Amendment: Bringing Families Together Since 1791

What to do on a pleasant, sunny day in St. George?  We went with shooting bottles, clay pigeons, and blowing up tannerite.

I sometimes worry Cameron might go all anti-establishment, take my little Cassidy to the backwoods country, and try to fend off tax collectors with his shotgun.

Cassidy looks like a natural.  I can almost hear her saying, "I'm gonna give you to the count of 10, to get your ugly, yella, no-good keister off my property."  Home Alone

Me, not a natural; I prefer handguns.  But, my shadow looks kind of cool.

Can you see the wheels turning?  Brian is obsessing about all the shooting accessories he needs to purchase. 

Tannerite detonations occur at a very high velocity, producing a large explosion and cloud of water vapor.  Using bricks to prop the tannerite in place, may result in flying shrapnel...

...physical damage to your truck...

...and emotional damage to your puppy. (Poor Tulo was so traumatized; he jumped out of our truck and into Cameron's friend, Mark's, truck.  I guess it seemed safer there.)

Look, I am sparkly.  I think I might be a vampire!!

Did I Mention...

I still hate (I know, we don't say hate) the science fair.

Even though our puppet/stage making skills are obviously well above average,

not really a fan of the Puppet Show either.

Though I do not have a picture, The Battle of Hastings would have to get my vote for Least Favorite School Project.  Maybe it wasn't the actual project that wasn't my favorite; maybe it was my son that wasn't my favorite.  This is how Colin tends to get things done:

Wednesday, 11:30 pm

Colin (in his really, whiny voice):  "Mom, I am not going to get to do anything at school tomorrow."

Mom:  "Why not?"

Colin:  "Because you haven't helped me make my sword and shield for The Battle of Hastings tomorrow."

Mom:  "Did I know you were suppose to make a sword and shield by tomorrow?"

Colin:  "Didn't you see that cardboard in the mudroom?"

Mom (in my frustrated, I am trying not to want to beat you voice):  "Colin, really?  How am I suppose to know what the cardboard is for if you don't tell me?"

Colin:  "Don't you read your emails?  Don't my teachers send you an email about what we are doing?"

Really, Colin.  Sometimes I have to remind myself that I love this kid.  Needless to say, Colin did have a sword and shield to take to school the next morning and did get to participate in the battle. 

I think I should write a book:  "Surviving the Irresponsible Child" or "Responsibility: It Skips a Generation" 

As an added bonus, the sword and shield needed to be personalized using symbols from our coat of arms.   Tip of the day:  Fingernail Polish (It is, also, good for painting pinewood derby cars.)









A Proud Moment

Tony Parker is my new best friend; well, at least in my books, this makes us friends.  I have long held the belief that professional athletes get paid to be heckled; it's just part of their job description.  I kind of enjoy this part of the sport.  OK, I'll admit it, I think I am funny, and so I like it a lot.  Not long ago, Tony Parker totally shafted Eva Longoria (not Evan's twin sister (inside joke)).  So, at the Jazz game the other night, early in the game before the crowd is really into it, I yelled, "EVA."  Tony, nonchalantly, flipped me off!! A subtle, wave of the bird down by his leg.  It was pretty much awesome, and encouraged me to continue being obnoxious.

Remind me again, when does basketball start being fun to watch??

There are few things in life as painful as watching city league basketball.  The offensive strategy tends to be: if you have the ball...shoot.  There is no passing, lots of traveling, and really bad reffing.  But, like many other unpleasantries, it is impossible to avoid.

The first game of the season, Colin's team was down by about 20 points; it felt more like I was watching a rugby scrum than a basketball game.  Colin (if you have forgotten, Colin has some anger issues), after being bumped, scratched, slapped, pushed, and elbowed, received his first flagrant foul and game ejection.  I immediately attributed his behavior to Brian's genetic contibution. Then, I remembered a few people with Nilsen DNA (Randy, Colton, Nickole, Kicker, etc.) that may have gotten caught up in their "competitive spirit". Man, maybe it's not his Tudor side.
I'm not sure what happened, but a couple weeks later the refs called EVERYTHING; the normally 40 minute game lasted 1 hour 15 minutes.  After that things really calmed down, and the game started to look a little more like basketball.  Each game, we were still able to catch a glimpse or two of Colin's temper, but he never let it boil over.  Colin evolved into a mad shot-clocker and a rebounding machine.  He, frequently, enjoyed disputing calls with the refs. (Colin...It's city league, not the NBA!!)  Even though I feared during each game that I might be asked to take my son and never come back, Colin started to really like basketball, and I survived another year of city league basketball.

On a side note, Colton had his coaching debut (filling in for one game) and led the team to a one point win, without beating up his brother.

I Suck at Blogging

Blogging has not been at the top of my priority list.  But my friend Melanie has motivated me to find my inner-blog. So, I am giving it another go.  We'll see how long it lasts.  Haha