Best of Las Vegas

Our Lego Explorers in The City That Never Sleeps:

 The Strip with Eiffel Tower in background

View from Hotel Aria

On coffee break outside the conference room

 Bellagio Fountain

 Workin' long hours

Droppin' nickels at the slots

On set

"Yeah, we've earned it!"

Found on Church Pew

Which pretty much indicates that it was a Sunday School assignment (notice how brief and to the point it is). And nevermind that Brahm is his only brother. I think I'll post it anyway.

Takes One to Know One

The universe is continually confirming to me that what bothers me in other people is usually a reflection of something amiss in myself (see "Who Am I?" for more on this topic).

Take a morning commute from last week, for example. It seems that every year, no matter which route we choose, UDOT manages to plan some kind of major construction on the roads which take us to and from school. Add to that the innumerable amount of inconsiderate drivers in our path (Utah is infamous for this) and I guess it all became too much for me on this particular morning.

"Guys, " I say, directing my comments to the creatures in the back seat, "I'm really glad you're watching all of this because I want you to start learning now how not to drive." Even from the drivers seat I can still see their little eyeballs rolling to the back of their heads. This is not the first time they've had the "Look-at-All-of-the-Incompetent-Drivers-Out-There" lecture. Still, I persist. "I want you to learn how to actually use your turn signal when you drive. And when you're going to make a right turn at a stop, you must come to a complete stop first and then look to the left to see if anyone's coming before you proceed." No response. "And furthermore," I add, feeling encouraged, "when there's construction going on like this you must slow down and drive carefully. You never know when a worker is going to pop out from behind their truck and surprise you. Basically, do exactly the opposite of what you see all these idiot drivers doing."

There's a long moment of silence in the back seat which means, of course, that my wisdom must be penetrating their young minds. I allow it to sink in. But before I can let myself feel too satisfied, Oliver's next comment becomes a different kind of lesson all of its own.

"But Mom," he observes matter-of-factly, "sometimes you're an idiot driver, too."

Where In the World?

Last week Brooks left for a business trip to San Francisco. Knowing he would be gone all week, Brahm sent him with one of his Lego Storm Troopers just in case Brooks felt lonely and missed him. Being sensitive to others is not unlike Brahm. Two of his gifts are a strong sense of compassion and empathy for others. Brooks understands this. In fact, he knows just how much he and his son are alike in this way. So it shouldn't have surprised me (though it did) when this series of photos showed up a few days later for Brahm.

Bay Bridge Tunnel

Bay Bridge

Union Square

The Embarcadero

Taxi Drive

Down Town

Brooks is in Las Vegas this week. He didn't leave empty handed, either. Oliver sent him with a Lego Snow Trooper and Brahm, a sheriff (with handcuffs - a non-negotiable travel accessory, I'm told). We can't wait to see where they'll turn up this time...

Hodge Podge

One of the best things I ever did in my garden was plant the strawberry patch. I expected small, pithy berries but instead have been completely surprised by the large, juicy ones we have picked all summer long. Bless Brooks for letting me tear out a strip of the front lawn where the berries now grow. It's the only piece of land we own that gets a full twelve hours of sun at the peak of summer. That's probably why they have done so well - that and all the TLC the boys and I have put into it. They have rewarded us with more fruit than we can handle - enough for pie, freezer jam, cereal toppers, salads, ice cream and fresh eating.

One thing I notice about myself is that I'm a very tactile person and enjoy a creative process that starts from scratch. This means that nothing makes me geek-out more than picking the strawberries right off the plant, washing and hulling them right into a pie shell that started out as a bowl of flour and butter. This recipe here calls for a cream cheese filling (a block of cream cheese, 1/4 cup of sugar and a couple tablespoons of sour cream or plain yogurt), a layer of sliced kiwi and a crown of berries covered in a corn starch-based glaze. No one here turned down a slice.

A month ago or so the boys and I were home camping out in the living room. This appeases my conscience some since I hate actual camping and they love it. We built a sheet tent, stuck marshmallows on sticks and "roasted" them over a fire we conjured from construction paper. All of the sudden we hear a storm pick up outside and were astonished moments later to see hail the size of gumballs coming down all over the neighborhood. Of course the boys run out and gather as many as they could while I'm giving Brooks a play-by-play over the phone (I love how he humors me by listening when I call him at work with stuff like this). Weeks later and I think there are still a few rolling around the bottom of the freezer.

















And finally, Brooks gets his 9th consecutive "Dad of the Year" award by building these wooden artillery units with the boys. I came home from work one Saturday afternoon to find them all busy with a jigsaw and a sander only to proudly emerge a couple of hours later with what you see featured below. What's not featured is what Brooks later built - a wooden pistol with which to arm himself. Smart dad.

Memo to Children

The garlic press is not for Play-doh.

Conditioned Response

Everyone is born with a gift. At least that's what I was telling Oliver the other day. He was fascinated by this concept and wanted to know what his gift is.

"You have the gift of resilience," I tell him. I observe that he is able to let a lot of things roll off his back and when they don't, it's not very long before he's back to himself again. I notice other gifts in him that we didn't talk about that day: he has a hearty spiritual constitution, laughs easily, has a very curious and keen mind and is able to persist long after others have given up.

Fast forward about a week. Grandma Briggs had loaned us her Outback while our car was in the shop and we were on our way home that night after returning it to her. Even though our car is running, it certainly has seen better days. I really enjoyed driving the Outback for the week and wondered how I could possibly put lipstick on the pig that is our own vehicle. Wanting an upgrade but not wanting to invest, I ask Brooks, "Do you think we can go to a junk yard and find some leather seats for our car like the ones your mom has?"

He laughs and says, "Yeah, if you want them to be all cracked and nasty."

"But your mom's car is the same year as ours and her seats are perfect."

"That's because my dad has religiously applied leather conditioner to them over the years to keep them in good shape."

"So how about you start putting fabric conditioner on our seats to keep them in perfect condition for me?"

This is funny to us primarily because I'm the reason the car interior, including the seats, is so pathetic. It's just me and the boys who use it 90% of the time so I take no pains to keep it presentable since the mess only bothers me once things start to smell. It's also funny because Brooks is nothing like his father when it comes to being fastidious about maintenance - not cars, not lawns, not anything - so the good-humored ribbing doesn't escape his notice.

"OK, I'll put some on right now," he jabs back and lifts his cheek to make a huge farting sound.

This really gets me laughing but not as much as what happens next. Oliver (who apparently has been listening the whole time) is duly impressed because behind me I hear him comment to himself, "Now that's a special gift!"