The EYES have it

This little monster is seven, as previously mentioned. We finally got around to taking his yearly picture in daddy's shirt, which we somehow forgot to do last year. So, for comparison sake, the bottom picture is from two years ago.


And as a side note, I asked Damon what he wants to be when he grows up. He told me, "A temple worker." Cute.


Didn't all girls grow up dreaming about what their kids were going to look like? Or at least think about it a time or two while staring into the eyes of the boy she just KNEW was going to be her husband? Or was that just me? Now that I have three kids that I am forced to look at on a fairly regular basis, it is fun to see what things they have in common, and which of those things I am responsible for, and which ones came from Jeff.

Jeff has gorgeous eyes. A blue green that changes color depending on which shirt he is wearing. I, on the other hand, have very average brown eyes that always look brown. I'm not bitter, it's just the truth. All of my siblings have dark eyes (brown or some version of hazel), and so I thought that my kids would probably never get their daddy's pretty eyes, but would be stuck with my average eyes. I was wrong. My kids all have beautiful eyes. Thanks to their daddy.




Which ones do you like best? Funnily enough, Kyla gets the most comments on how pretty her eyes. And at her two year checkup, her doctor asked if I think they'll stay green. Yep, I do.

Letter to me

Yesterday, a good friend from high school was in town and came over to visit. We had a great time catching up on the last 10 years of life, while ignoring the fact that there were children destroying things in the house (thanks Christina, I really did have a great day!).

One of the things we talked about was how much has happened since high school, which should seem ridiculously obvious. But we were talking about people we know who seem to still live in high school, constantly talking about the way things were and how great it was. We both admitted that high school was neither the best or the worst time of our lives. It reminded me so much of the song, "Letter to Me" by Brad Paisley. Probably because one of the lines says, "these are nowhere near the best years of your life."

So, last night as I was lying alone in bed, trying to fall asleep, I started thinking about what I would tell myself if I could hop in a Delorian and deliver a letter to myself in high school. This will probably be boring to everyone who didn't go to high school with me, so please know that you have my permission to navigate away from this page and do something more interesting. This is mostly for me anyway.

Dear Krystal,
Time puts everything into perspective. While most often, I still feel like the same person I always was, when I look back at everything you have ahead of you, I can see just how far you have to come. And so, if I could give you some advice about high school, here's what I would tell you.

The first time Jake breaks your heart, get over him. You really are truly meant to be just friends. Don't spend nights crying over him or wondering what is wrong with you. Just know that you'll meet someone perfect before too long. Move on!

When trying to park the van behind the seminary building, if a spot looks like it might be too small, don't even try it. It's too small.

Do less talking and more listening in choir to Mr. Lister. His heart can't take the stress.

And while you're at it, pay attention in Mr. Ward's calculus class and stop writing so many notes to Kristen and Kandelyn. You might actually learn calculus.

Don't ever mouth off to Coach Larson on the softball team. He will make your life miserable.

Don't go to the sleepover at Genis' house. Nothing good will happen.

Don't be afraid of kissing Tyler. He loves you and will never do anything to make you believe otherwise.

If you take Computer Programming from Mr. Wiarda, make sure you get someone to help you with your final project. You'll never figure it out on your own, and it will murder your GPA.

Enjoy every second of every road trip you take with the volleyball, basketball and softball teams. Those are the times you will miss most once high school is over.

Don't be afraid to try out for Trilogy. It will be one of the best things you will do.

Don't stress about the ACT. That goes remarkably well.

Don't worry so much about what other people think of you. They probably don't think about you very much at all. Besidese, you won't see most of them after high school, and then you'll only "see" them on Facebook, where you can choose which pictures of you they actually see.

Don't go on the church history trip with your aunt and uncle. It will ruin your senior year of volleyball and you'll be bitter for years.

Have the courage to tell Mark face-to-face that you don't want to date him anymore. Don't take the easy way out and ignore him, hoping he'll get the message. And don't write him a letter. Don't be a coward. Tell him.

Leave everything you have on the court. Basketball may not turn out the way you always envisioned, but you'll never regret giving your very best. And don't wallow after you lose. Shake it off and join the rest of your friends at Charlie's.

Most of all, experience high school for what it is--four years of your life. Four great years, but not the best years to come. Four years full of ups and downs, and some of the best friends you will ever find. Don't ever be afraid to let them know how much they mean to you. Someday you will be sitting where I am, reflecting on the past, and the things that will mean the most to you are the relationships you made. So have fun. Take dad's advice and chill out! Don't be so serious about everything. Life gets serious really fast, and you'll wish you would have enjoyed the "carefree" time of your life a little more.

Love,
The older, wiser you

Just a short one

I haven't posted in a while. I haven't taken many pictures. It must be the hot summer days that keep us inside or at the pool), but when I think back, it just doesn't seem like anything of note has happened lately. I did find a couple pics on my phone, so here they are.

This is our next door neighbor's backyard. Thankfully, they are more than willing to share, as our backyard (and front yard for that matter) are full of weeds that grow at the speed of sound (not quite the speed of light). The girls were just sitting in the car and I thought it was sweet how Kyla had her arm around Allie.

And one of Damon. He's doing the splits down the slide. I can't get him to stop doing the splits. He gets too much of a reaction every time.


This is from Sunday dinner at the Trapnell's. We thought it was pretty funny.

Last weekend, Jeff and his dad took Damon and two nephews (Matt and Miles, who Allie talks about all the time) to hike Mount Nebo. Jeff thought it would be a 5-6 mile hike total and that the boys wouldn't have much trouble with it. It ended up being more like 11 miles total and took a lot out of all of them. I honestly can't believe Damon did it (and with little complaining from what I hear), but I'm so happy they enjoy doing things together. It almost makes up for the constant gymnastics/dancing.


Damon started swim lessons while Allie is in preschool, and I learned after the first day that Kyla was not going to sit still and watch him swim for 30 minutes. So, during his swim lessons, I have been putting her in the backpack and walking around the track just outside the rec center. It's a decent workout--I can go about a mile and a quarter in the 20-25 minutes I have--with the added weight, and it's very doable even in 90 degree weather. Yesterday as I was nearing the end of my last lap, I decided to do a few lunges to really feel the burn. I was going to try to do the whole turn of the track, but quickly realized I was fooling myself. I probably went about 25 yards before I thought I would collapse and die. Seriously, my quads were protesting loudly. And I am so sore today I can barely walk. Especially up and down the stairs. Oh, the torture. I am sore basically from my knee caps to my hips. On both sides of the legs. You ought to try it for yourself, just to see what it's like.

A clip of Allie

This morning Allie was in a bad mood. I have no idea why, but when I heard her in the garage crying, I grabbed the camera. This is classic Allie (I apologize, it's a little dark). A few things of note:
1. I don't usually let her get away with behavior like this, but wanted to have it all documented. A screech like that is enough to get her locked away in her room; her behavior to Damon enough to get another timeout.
2. Really, nothing had happened to set her off. She had been up for at least thirty minutes, eating breakfast, getting dressed, when suddenly mean monster Allie appeared.
3. I love all the classic stages of tantrum-throwing things, wailing, hands on hips, hitting, and slamming doors. All in thirty seconds.
4. Be it known, after I put shoes on her and forced her into the car, she stopped crying and went to school without further incident. When I picked her up, I told her, "You were in a really bad mood this morning," to which she responded, "I was playing a trick on you."

Like a popsicle on the Fourth of July...

We started our Independence Day festivities early in the morning. And that was saying something, since we had been up late celebrating Damon's birthday on the 2nd and Kenya's birthday on the 3rd. But my family has made a tradition of going to see the balloons at 6:00 am, and we decided to join them (all except Jeff, who found it a bit too difficult to get out of bed). He watched from the deck an hour later and saw this:

While we saw this:

Here's a family pic.

(Okay, so that's not Jeff, and it's not Allie. My brother, Eric, is holding Kyla and I am holding Kenya. I don't have a single picture of either Jeff or Allie so let's pretend).

On our way back to the car, Damon saw this cool car and wanted to pose by it.

Kyla did too.

We spent the afternoon swimming and playing water volleyball with my family, eating delicious food and spanking the Shurtz/Jeff team repeatedly. :) We spent the rest of the evening with Jeff's family in Springville eating more food and doing fireworks. I don't know why I didn't take more pictures. We must have been having too much fun. Allie fell asleep for a good hour in the van and wasn't much fun to get woken up for the fireworks. But she did claim later that it was "the best day of my life," so I think she had a good time. Just no proof of it.

Street fireworks

The picture of the day: Kyla's first time doing sparklers.

Quick catch up

Before we get to the Fourth of July celebration, I found a couple old pictures I need to catch up with. First is my haircut. Damon took this pic of me holding my 9 inch ponytail. I sent it to Pantene's Beautiful Lengths, which does wigs specifically for cancer patients. FYI Locks of Love makes wigs mostly for kids with alopecia, which is a worthy cause, but not something I have experienced personally, which is why I went with Pantene. I don't love my hair (I think the layers sometimes look funny), but I'm getting used it. It's just hair, and it grows back.

Oh, and here's the before, in case you wanted to see just how much there was to cut.



This second picture is from a couple of weeks ago. Jeff and I spent the morning getting the garage cleaned out, and now we can park both cars in! It is hard getting in (our driveway is pretty narrow), but I am getting better at it after only one scraping of the side of the van. Oops!


And here's one Allie took of herself. Allie was completely worn out from the Fourth of July festivities. Yesterday we were at Seven Peaks and she started looking really tired around 5:00. She fell asleep on the way home, and there was nothing I could do to wake her up. Finally, around 7:00, I put her in her jammies and took her to the potty, sure she would wake up sometime during the night. She slept until after 6:00 this morning. Wow, she must have REALLY needed some rest. All those late nights, coupled with the constant waking up scared really caught up to her!

And one funny story. I gave her an old MP3 player that she has been listening to, and pretending is a phone/camera. One morning at breakfast she was playing with it, and I said, "Allie, you need to hurry and finish your breakfast." Her response? Just as any teenager would, she said, "Just a sec. I'm texting."

Damon's 7

Happy Birthday to Damon!



Wow, I have a lot of pictures to go through! Let's start with Damon's birthday. He turned seven on July 2, a day he has been looking forward to for many months. He wanted to do something really fun, but we didn't want to spend a lot of money. Our compromise was to use a trade that Jeff has with The Quarry rock climbing place, which worked out really well. He invited 6 cousins to come climb with him, and thankfully, my dad and Wayne were in town to help belay the kids (Jeff and I, along with my Uncle Tom were belaying as well). The kids had a great time. Even the little kids, like Kyla and Tara's twins, got to climb and loved it.

Ready to climb!

Damon and David making their way up the wall

Mama belaying (just because there aren't a lot of pictures of me on here)

Allie giving it a try with my dad belaying

He requested sushi and salmon for dinner, along with corn and cottage cheese. Yummy. Much better than the fish sticks Allie wanted. Unfortunately, the sushi wasn't that great. But I didn't tell him that. Just FYI-don't buy it at Albertson's. Next time I will go to Costco.


All my family was in town for the 4th, so we invited everyone back for cake and ice cream after the party. Here is Damon's cake. Nothing fancy, but he seemed happy with it.



We sure love this kid and are so glad to have him as part of our family!

Traffic School

Thanks so much for all your suggestions about what to do with Allie! You are all full of great ideas and I really appreciate all the input! UPDATE-Allie is doing much better at night. I think part of it was bribery (she will do a lot for a dum-dum), and part of it was her deciding she was going to go to bed without screaming. She still complains about being scared A LOT and it is always a struggle to actually get her in her room with the door shut, but she seems to be managing. A few things that have helped: prayer (although we were trying this from the beginning, I think constant prayers specifically for her have been a good thing), talking with her about how I have overcome some of my own fears, playing "swat the pretend robbers" with fly swatters (read that one online), and encouraging her that it is okay to feel scared, but not okay to scream and cry about it. We plan on having a special FHE where we dedicate the house after we close next week, and I think that will help, too. For now, though, I am relieved that things are going better. They are far from perfect, but they are better.

Back in May I got my first speeding ticket ever. And I was pretty bummed. I was leaving the house in Orem to go back to Mapleton to pick Damon up from school when I got busted for doing 41 in a 25. Dang. I was in a hurry, and I was driving too fast (in my FIL's truck, so I wasn't used to the speed), but I also think the cop who gave me my ticket is a jerk who was laying a speed trap (more on that in a minute). Anywho, instead of paying the fine and having it go on my record, thus upping our insurance, I decided to go to traffic school.

And so I got to spend a glorious 3 hours last night in a room with 24 other offenders, learning about being a safe driver. And also how to get away with speeding. I don't know exactly what I expected, but there were all types of people there. Male, female, old, young, firefighters and texters. But the majority of us were white, which surprised me. Maybe I was picturing something more along the lines of a citizenship class, where most of the participants would be minorities who once worked as a doctor in their home land, but were now forced to be janitors at the local elementary school. Honestly, though, I should have known. It is Orem, Utah, and the only diversity my kids are exposed to is through the Wal-Mart on University Parkway, where all Hispanic people in the city shop. We often take "field trips" there so they remember that there actually are people who speak Spanish besides Dora.

Back to Traffic School. Despite my misconceptions, I fit right in. I felt an instant comraderie with the other participants; my fellow lawbreakers who had been caught, and were also hoping to avoid higher insurance premiums. Our teacher was a young officer, just 3 years out of the academy, who encouraged us to open a discussion to make the class more interesting. As long as we avoided subjects like, "I didn't deserve my ticket because..." So, of course, most of our discussions were why we didn't deserve our tickets. I learned that THREE other people in the class had received their tickets at the same place I got mine, all issued by the same officer. Yes, my friends, Officer V- was most definitely laying a speed trap. Here's how I know: All of us were pulled over at the bottom of a hill, going at least 10 over the speed limit. I have since learned that if you roll down the hill, never applying your break, you will reach the bottom going at least 45 MPH. It takes a LOT of conscious effort, and a lot of breaking, to keep your speed closer to 25 MPH. Also, Officer V was hiding behind a trailer at the bottom of the hill, so of course he couldn't be seen. He had the perfect setup, and I bet he was giving several tickets a day from his little hiding place. Annoying.

But, I will admit, that since my ticket, I have been a different driver. And after completing Traffic School last night, I know I will be a much more conscientious driver. And not just about speeding. I'm not going to text anymore in the car (not that I did a lot while driving, but occasionally I would. All it took was one story of a girl who lost her life, as she ran a red light while texting and was hit directly on her left side to cure me of my desire to text and drive). I learned a lot, and I think everyone should go to traffic school every few years, just to be reminded of things we can do better. I think insurance companies should offer a reduced rate to anyone who will go and sit through a class. I think there would be fewer accidents, and more educated drivers on the road.

So, while it sucks that I got a ticket and had to go to Traffic School, it wasn't all bad. I got to sit for three hours talking about speed limits, and watching video clips of horrendous accidents. I got to learn, again, how important seat belts areand I got to sit hungrily as other participants scarfed down their Panda Express dinners they had bought during the break. Wait, why was it a good thing again? Oh, because I got to do it without children, and never once had to answer the question, "can I have something to eat?" It was a question I had to keep myself from asking, but one I never had to answer.