May I share a journal entry... from yesterday... 3/16/12...

We tended the kids tonight and when Matt and Jenny returned after 10 pm and all the kids were down, they introduced us to their friends who commended us for being available and willing to watch the kids while mom and dad went out for the evening. We were polite but less than gracious and this is how I wish I had responded:

"Thank you very kindly, but imagine if you can being old and alone, and having children who welcome you daily into their home as part of their family, and trust you implicitly with their kids, whom you love and adore, and who return an abundance of love and affection and seem always excited to see and be with you. Would they be an imposition or chore to spend an evening with?

Or imagine being old and alone and having kids and grandkids who rarely visit and where you don't feel welcome in their homes, nor are you invited to share in their lives in any way.

We are blessed with the former, but have friends who endure the latter. No, we are receivers in this relationship and are all too aware that kids grow up and need you less, so we are committed to cherish every moment we are permitted to be with them or welcome them in our home. You should envy us, because it doesn't get much better. But you needn't praise us for selfishly cherishing every moment we can enjoy with our grandkids, and their trusting and accepting parents."

Well, that's how I wish I had responded, but I just stumbled meaningless jibberish and we dismissed ourselves and came home. But we do have it good and love our kids and grandkids, and are well aware that to be accepted and even appreciated living next door is rare and to be nurtured and cherished.

Life is short, those twins were only two for a year and leave only memories. But we make new memories with each of them every day now and are painfully aware that we are getting older and have continually less to give, and are sustained chiefly by their acceptance, their trust, and our reciprocal affections. May we love without possessing, serve without demanding, give without accounting, and accept graciously the unbounded love we feel in return, because time doesn't return.

Love you all

I chose Brigham Young for my book report because I thought he must be pretty cool if he got such an awesome school named after him. So in my book report I've got three main topics, which I would like to share with you. Those topics are: facts about his family, why he is famous, I think he's awesome because... So sit back, relax, and enjoy my boring book report.
As stated above, my first reason is facts about his family. So here is a couple weird and wacky reasons about his family. First of all he was the ninth child. It probably wasn't unnatural back then but now it sure is. But if want to hear an even crazier thing about his family, stick around. Second of all, he was pretty much raised by his older 14 year old sister. If his parents weren't so busy he'd probably have been raised by them. Last but not least, he had 27 wives throughout his life. But in the meantime he had 57 kids! No, the last two sentences weren't typos. Can't say I didn't warn you!
My second topic isn't so wacked. All I'm going to write in this paragraph is why he's famous. He is famous because he is the second LDS prophet. Oh, by the way, I'm mormon. So he's kind of a big deal to me. But probably the biggest reason is because he led the Mormons west. Soooo... onto paragraph number four.
For my last topic I'm supposed to write if I like him, so I'm going to tell you why I like Brigham Young. My first reason is probably really obvious (if you know me well :)). It's because of BYU. My all-time favorite school, ever. My last reason is because Brigham Young sets a great example for the rest of us. He kept on trying to get the Mormons to a safe place while being chased by mobs, he got really sick, and just still kept trying.
Sweet, I'm nearly done. So far this ultra boring book report about Brigham Young turned out to be pretty boring, right? So, for you late-comers I'm going to skim over what I wrote. OK? Good. So I wrote some facts about his family, why he's famous and why I think he's awesome. So, peace out, scouts. Baker. Over and out.

Being a mom is a daunting job. I am responsible for the physical, emotional and spiritual raising of my kids. No pressure.

Sometimes I get overwhelmed with the physical caretaking part of my job, but the spiritual part; oh man, that's quite the task. I want all my kids to have a firm testimony of the gospel, to know Jesus loves them, and to learn to do what's right. Daunting to say the least.

Sometimes they surprise me. Sometimes my kids teach me.

About a week ago my kids arrived at the bus stop to find a boy crying. Isaac went over and put his arm around the boy and asked what was wrong. He told him he was freezing and only had a thin jacket. Without a second thought, Isaac shed his coat and put it on his friend. "I have a hoodie on" he told him. "This will keep you warm".

Yesterday, same Isaac, new story.
Background: Isaac has a kid in his class who is different. And by different I mean weird. Says and does things that are strange and not age appropriate. Emotional outbursts, dramatic accusations of things that didn't happen, just weird behavior. Let's call him Mike.

"Mom, I'm starting to like playing soccer and basketball. I play them at recess with Mike"
"Isaac, isn't he a little... different?"
"So, I like him"

Who's the teacher here anyway?

Yep. Epic Blog Fail.

So here is a little something that has been on my mind for some time.

Football.

Alex wrapped up his season with a banquet the other day and it was quite a finish. Alex's team shut out at every single team in his conference at one time or another. They soundly beat every team and when the smoke cleared, Alex's team was awarded the state championship, going 12-0.

Team sports. I am a big fan.

What did Alex learn that he would absolutely not learn in any other way, or at least not as effectively?

He learned that people depend on him and he needs to do his best so he won't let others down.
He learned to do his best so he wouldn't let himself down.
He learned how to get along with others.
He learned that performance is determined by practice.
He learned it isn't just about being strong but it is also about being a student of the game. Often, playing smarter, not stronger, equated to playing better.
He learned how to do things he didn't want to do.
He learned how to be humble, victory after victory.
He learned how to do his best and forget the rest.
He learned how to focus.
He learned how to perform well under pressure.
He learned to be grateful to Heavenly Father for the ability and opportunity to play (they prayed before and sometimes after every game).
He learned what it meant to be a part of a brotherhood.
He learned to pay attention or there would be hell to pay.
He learned what it means to fight through blood, sweat, and tears to become a champion.
Along with much, much more...

Go Diggers!
State Champs, 2010

Playground story told by Isaac:

"Mom, a while ago I was playing at Bear Park and there was this bully and his goons over by the spider. So I went over to swing because they looked mean. I was just swinging and the bully and his goons came over behind me but I didn't see them. Then the bully pushed me off the swing. So I said "do you want to swing" to him and let him have my swing. Then I thought about the Golden Rule and so I snuck up behind him and pushed him off the swing.


There you go. New Golden Rule: Do unto others as they have done to you. Maybe not quite as effective..

Thanks RLTPHOTOGRAPHY!

Yes. They are twins.

No. They are not identical.

Yes. I do have my hands full.

My babies are so funny. I know they're not supposed to "play together" yet according to the child development books, but play they do. I never have to look for both of them, only one. This is because they are always together. Always.
Where one goes, the other is close behind. What one is playing with, the other is suddenly completely focused on (especially Elsie, she's a taker).
They cry together too. Often enough, if one is sad, the other is too. I don't love that.
Daxton tends to be the more adventurous one. He'll venture out away from Elsie to check things out, but she's close behind. And if she doesn't follow, then he goes back to find her. Then the fun begins. Or mischief, rather. These two can empty a drawer, a cabinet, a toilet paper roll, or toy box faster than I can clean it up. Oh my!Their latest trick is trying to kiss each other. Remember one-year-old kisses? Open mouth and slobbery. It's something to behold. I know this next picture isn't great quality, but I LOVE it!

This summer should be really fun. They'll FINALLY be able to go outside and play together; oh happy day. I'm interested to see what kind of "fun" they'll get into.

I'm not really one for making New Year's resolutions, but if I did I suppose they would fall into the usual categories: excercise, eat better, get organized, read my scriptures more regularly... something like that. But they all take so much time and energy, so in my rut I stay. Until today.

Alex was running out the door this morning to catch the bus and then he stopped, came back, and said "I love you Mom". Then he asked, "Mom, did you notice I'm saying "I love you" more? It's my New Year's resolution".

I have noticed actually. It's been really nice.

I wonder what would happen if we all made the same resolution. It's so simple yet what a difference it would make. Thanks for teaching me Alex. Maybe I need to start making New Years resolutions after all.

So, what is the number one thing that prevents men from being really great dads?

The answer may surprise you...

Moms.

Now, all of you put down your rocks, there will be no stoning today. Allow me to explain.

Moms and dads have different roles. In many homes, dads are the primary breadwinners in that they leave the home during the day due to some kind of external employment. Moms stay home and run things on the domestic front, caring for young ones and tending to their every need. Both different responsibilities, but both absolutely necessary for a functioning household.

But staying home does have it's advantages in the relationship field.

Jenny is an incredible mother. She spends more time caring for our little ones than anyone I know. She feeds, changes, and nurtures our children so they are healthy and happy. She provides quality time and experiences with the kids so that, in turn, they adore her.

What do dads do?

Well, in many cases, dads come home from work and, if they are good fathers, they will play with the kids for an hour or so, then it is time for dinner and bed. Children know and like their dads, but not like they love and adore their moms. They just haven't invested the time like moms. Sure, dads may pitch in with the care-giving every now and then in that they give a bottle before bedtime or perhaps change a diaper or two, but it is nothing compared to moms.

Not to mention we are built differently. Moms come with the "Equipment" to feed the babies, and really, this act of service from mothers provides a bond that will remain unshaken during the infant years. Dudes can't touch this.

When my first tow boys were little, I thought they were great, but I couldn't wait for them to get older. I wanted to throw a football with them. I wanted to "play" with them. I didn't want to just sit there and hold them. Boring. To be honest, I didn't' even really like them when they were little. Jenny would sit and swoon over them. I would happily hand the baby over, of course only to help realize her desire ;)

When Alex got older to where he could actually do stuff, I started becoming interested. We played sports together. We have season sports tickets together. We would read books together. He became one of my best friends. So when Isaac was little, I would always take the older Alex so Jenny could focus her attention on baby Isaac. In reflection, I didn't have much to do with Isaac when he was little because I had Alex and Jenny did everything for the littlest one.

Moms raise babies in such a way that they don't really need dads. When babies cry, they want mom. When they need comfort.... mom. Hungry.... mom. Dads can provide some relief to moms every now and then, but the need is nothing compared to the mother. As a consequence, dads are forced to play catch up in the relationship game later in life or they always remain the distant parent.

If moms allowed/forced dads to do more in the earlier stages of a babies life, then relationships between babies and fathers would be stronger and they would be closer in later years.

Enter Daxton and Elsie.

About 8 months ago, we had twins and everything changed.

The major difference between having one baby and two is that DADS ARE MOMS as well! Mom can't care for two babies all the time so dads are forced to step up their game in the mom category. I rock a baby to sleep every night. I feed a baby at every meal. It seems like I don't ever stop changing diapers. I get a baby dressed in the morning. Wherever we go, I am carrying a baby. I am always responsible for one of them. There is no hand off. There is no break. There aren't many dads who can say this.

Every day.

I am mom.

As a result of my invested time, I adore these babies. I don't want them to ever grow up. I can't wait to see them, to play with them, to hold them. And in return, I think they adore me to! When they cry, they want me. When they are hungry, they want me. When I walk in the room, they climb up on my leg. A smile always breaks across their face when I look into their eyes.

And this is the greatest reward.

I'm sure mom still has me beat, but at least I come in as a close second.

And that is fine with me!

I love this time of year. But this year, I love it for some different reasons.

I love Fall because it is the season of college football, and if you know me and my family, we LOVE the Cougars. But Cougar football is not what this post is about.

Fall is also the season for two of my sons PLAYING football. I can't think of anything I enjoy more than going to games and practices and watching my boys put on the pads/flags and get out there and have fun!

I have even subjected myself to being the coach of said teams. Last year, I was the head coach and offensive coordinator for Alex (10) and this year I am the offensive coordinator of Isaac's (6) team.

On Thursday at Isaac's game, things went really well for our team. We jumped off to a quick lead and we were totally owning our opponents. I felt like we could do anything against these guys. We put different kids in different positions. We ran crazy plays. Everything we attempted ended up in a touchdown.

The other team: nothing. Our defense continued to shut them down, play after play. In seeing the discouragement on the other teams' coaches and players faces, I determined that this was nothing new for them. It was obvious they hadn't seen much success throughout the season. It was tough to see other 6 year olds feeling a little discouraged.

So, towards the end of the game, I met with our team's other coach, and we decided we were going to help the other team out. We met in the huddle with our boys and asked if they were having fun! "YES" came the unanimous yell. We then discussed that we didn't think the other team was having as much fun because they hadn't scored (we learned later they hadn't scored all season). We asked the boys how they would feel if we helped them score a touchdown. EVERY boy shook his head in agreement that this is an idea they could support. They didn't care about the score. They were having fun and they wanted the other boys to have fun as well.

Operation "Don't pull the flag" was about to begin.

I walked over to the coach of the other team and I whispered to him, "Just run the ball."

I turned to Jenny. "Watch this."

The ball was snapped. The clumsy 6 year old handed the ball off to the closest guy. He started to run towards the outside. Our defense swarmed him like they had done all day, but then, something special happened. One boy dove purposefully towards the runner but obviously missed. The rest of our team collapsed on the runner, but instead of pulling the flag, they surrounded him and, not knowing what else to do, ran WITH HIM down the field. Our defense was the running back's own personal escort.

To the 15, the 10, the 5, touchdown!

The sidelines erupted.

The parents of the other team jumped to their feet cheering hysterically! Then our parents started to understand what had happened and they joined in the cheering. The other coaches ran to their players and embraced all of them. And then the players.... they celebrated like they just got every Christmas present they ever put on their wish list.

And our players just sat and watched. And smiled.

I glanced over at Jenny who understood what just happened. She had tears in her eyes.

I never thought one of the best moments as a coach would be watching another team score on our defense.

It was definitely something special.

Holy cow it has been a long time since we blogged. Sincerest apologies. This is what summer does to us in this house. Fortunately, things are settling down a bit and you will hear from us more often.

Last week, Happily Ever After Video and two weddings at the Logan temple on one day. Neither had receptions attached, so we decided to load the whole family up and spend the night in Cache Valley. Well, with a name like that (Cache Valley), we decided it was an omen to discover our 100th cache here.

For those you who don't know about what I speak, here is a short explanation. My family is totally addicted to geocaching. Geocaching is a high tech form of treasure hunting utilizing GPS navigation, hints, maps, recent logs, etc. all to find hidden treasure planted by fellow cachers all over the globe. It is a super fun activity that every member of the family can enjoy.

So, below is a tribute of some of our favorite caching adventures!












Our first cache placement.
First Geocoin!

So do you know where you want to be buried?

I do.

Morbid? Maybe...

Every family has their favorite vacation spot...

Ever since I was a little boy, my family has annually visited Island Park, Idaho. It started out just taking trips to Yellowstone to see the animals and geysers. But over the years, our travels to this part of the world have become a tradition and a staple which I hope are never exhausted.

In the beginning, we would simply overnight it in a local West Yellowstone hotel. Today, our family (mom and dad) own four, wonderful condos at the Island Park Village Resort where we experience every luxury. The resort has a pool, tennis courts, golf course, a variety of rental programs, racquetball, and even ping pong. My kids also engage in the weekly craft gatherings to the playing of every board (bored) game under the sun.

Island Park is a heavily wooded, mountainous area which experiences perfect 70 degree temperatures in the summer. Here, streams around every bend meander their way through one pristine meadow after another. Animals such as moose, deer, elk, and even bear wander freely and uninhibited. Fishing is ideal. ATV'ers are spoiled with trails that lead everywhere and nowhere. The air is crisp and fresh, which, when accompanied with the surreal Island Park surroundings, rejuvenate the soul.

One could simply sit on the porch and watch the sun set and feel.... overwhelmingly.... satisfied.

Complete.

I love it here. I want to grow old in this place. And yes, I want Island Park to house my final resting spot as well!

This last week we finished up another successful vacation as a family at Island Park and like all our vacations, the days went by too fast. I need this place to be a little more permanent!

I guess it's back to counting down the days till our return next year.

Thanks mom and dad, for introducing me and my family to this part of the world and enabling our frequent return. Island Park is a legacy you have fostered which I intend to share with my family and we will always be grateful to you for the many wonderful experiences you have facilitated.

You will always be remembered for your loving generosity. We love you!

(Matt here)

Adolf Hitler was kind of a trouble maker.

In 1923, Hitler attempted his first overthrowing of the German government. He was unsuccessful and his attempt landed him in jail for "political crimes". While imprisoned, he decided he would document his struggles in an autobiographical book titled "Mein Kampf", which is German for "My Struggle". Simply put, it is in this book that he laid out his agenda for all that he deemed good, how to realize such euphoric goodness in his surrounding environment, and finally, how to terminate that which didn't quite fit into his Utopian game plan.

His Struggle.

He wrote a book on it.

So what is your struggle? Could you write a book about it?

Hey! One big whine session! Fantastic...

So, this post today is entitled "Mein Kampf" because I am going to let you all in on a little piece of my psyche.

I had a friend a long time ago. A dear, dear friend. I haven't seen this friend now for quite some time. This friend was special because he always made me feel so good about myself. I wanted to spend all day with this friend, once I really got to know said friend. It wasn't easy at first, but after a while, this friend and I REALLY hit it off. If I went one day without seeing this friend, the day was just all the harder and I couldn't wait to see said friend as soon as possible.

Don't you wish you had such a friend?

Well, so do I. Again, I haven't seen this friend for ages and I desperately miss this friends company.

So, who is this friend you ask?

Said friend's name is: (drum roll.........)

Exercise.

There was a time about a year ago, I was running everyday. I never felt better! I lost a lot of weight and things were going my way. I ran a 10k. I was actually fitting into my pants and even having to go buy skinnier ones. I cared about what I ate and meals didn't simply consist of everything. I had time to go to the gym.

The hard work was really quite blissful and I have never felt better.

I guess thats what feeling healthy does to you. I hardly remember. It has been too long...

So what is your "Mein Kampf"? Well, mine is exercise. I need to get back on the horse. I need to rededicate myself. I need to make it happen and become reacquainted with my long lost friend that could prolong my life so I can spend more years with my grandbabies. I mean, seriously, is there anything more important that that?

So, I am not sure where this post is going from here, but I will say that I am going to call my old friend this week and see if said friend wants to get together sometime....

I'll tell said friend you said hi, that is, if this friend will take me back.

I am addicted to facebook. I admit it. I check my phone for updates all the time. I love seeing what other people are doing and I enjoy all the sarcasm and humor.

However.

Some people don't get it. They don't understand what facebook is. Or what the purpose is. It is where we publish superficial tidbits about our lives for those around us. That's it. Girls night out is a better place to discuss the disfunctionalities of our lives. Not the world wide web. I sometimes wonder if some people realize anyone could be reading their comments...

So I wrote a list to help. Here it is. Take it or leave it.

1. Thou shalt not whine.
OK. We all have bad days. Crappy things happen. Fine, tell us. We're your friends and we want to know. This is for those people who continually post their woe-is-me status updates day after day after day... you know the type.
2. Thou shalt not publish thy dirty laundry.
Facebook is not the place to tell the world about the fight you're having with your husband. Period. Call your therapist.
3. Thou shalt not call names.
Are we really in Junior High again? C'mon. (Of course, name calling in jest or when funny is acceptable, but if you're not sure, don't do it)
4. Thou shalt not publish your bedroom escapades.
Need I go into this one?
5. Thou shalt attempt humor once in a while.
Now I am neither funny nor witty, but I try. In this arena, go for it. The standard "I went to the park. I love chocolate. I am a mom. I work at Zions Bank.." Boring. Jazz it up a little. Give it a whirl. With practice, you may become that funny person you always wanted to be.
6. Thou shalt publish a variety of topics.
At the risk of offending someone, I have some friends who post about the same thing every day. I don't even read their posts anymore. Move along. Next subject.
7. Thou shalt comment on other statuses.
You don't have to comment on everyone. But some statuses sometimes. We all like to be acknowledged. It only takes a minute so just do it.
8. Thou shalt use caution in publishing personal information.
This is the world wide web. Be smart. No phone number or address listings.
9. Thou shalt have a facebook account if your kids do.
Now this is mainly for parents of teenagers. Just another way to spy on your kids. Don't act like you don't want to.
10. Thou shalt not accept all friend requests.
This is more of a rule than a commandment. It's OK to say no. You don't know the person? You don't like them? Say no. It's all right.

So there it is. I got that off my chest. Whew. I feel better now.

My cell phone rang. My friend, Kelly, was on the other line. "Clark's house is on fire."

Clark is the owner and primary photographer of Swensen Photography. I have worked with him for over a decade and he is truly a wonderful guy. He is genuinely funny and his photography is exceptional. He has been very successful in marketing his artistic ability and I enjoy every opportunity I get to work with him on a wedding.

"Clark's house is on fire."

When I heard this devastating news, I rushed to his home, I wasn't sure why, but I went anyway. Outside his residence, I found hundreds of Clark's friends and family all trying to give him comfort and show support, but failing in the ability to formulate such emotions. There just weren't words.

I was standing next to Clark when the fire chief approached him and declared, "There isn't a lot of time, but if you want to try to get something out of the house, now is your chance." He and Clark scurried towards the house and a few minutes later, out he came with two soaking wet computers and 8 TB of storage. In four hands rested years of his work. Hundreds of shoots. Thousands of images. All threatened by the flames that had destroyed Clark's home and the world wide headquarters of Swensen Photography. Clark handed them to me and a few others and pleaded "See what you can do." Back Clark went to do whatever one does when one's house is burning and we went to work, happy that we finally had something to do.

Long story short. The pictures were salvaged.

But Clark's images aren't what this post is about. Not really anyway.

When I first arrived on the scene and saw Clark. I didn't know what to say. I simply walked up to him and gave him a hug. As I searched for words of comfort that would mean anything at this terrible hour, Clark, in his happy-go-lucky way, asked, "So, how are the twins?"

You're kidding me.

"WHO CARES!" I wanted to yell at him! My twins? Who cares about my twins!? Your house is on fire. Everything you own is burning to the ground. Everything. 100% loss. And you are wondering how my twins are? Hello!?

But then I thought, how amazing is Clark for thinking that. When all was lost, he inquired about me and that which was important in my life.

There is more.

As I watched Clark for the next few hours on that night he consistently remained upbeat. He smiled at family and friends. When new people arrived, he was genuinely happy to see them. I stood and watched in awe as Clark hugged and greeted everyone around in the foreground of utter devestation. It was truly amazing.

How would I respond? How would I react. When the fire chief approached me, what would I say or grab? What do I consider my most priceless possessions? Clark grabbed images. Not just his own, but all his clients, who, in a way, had become part of the Swensen Photography family. For Clark, nothing was really THAT important. He knew his family was safe, and it was this knowledge that was the glue that, I believe, kept Clark from falling apart on that night. We can lose everything, but when we have family, we can overcome anything. Clark showed me this on that night.

It has been a week and I had the opportunity to shoot with Clark again today. His happy-go-lucky self emanated through every action and word. The fire hadn't phased him a bit. Of course, it had caused a few speed bumps in the life of Clark, but when asked how he was doing...
his response FLOORED me....

"It has been the best thing that has ever happened to us."

I was stunned.

He went on to say, (paraphrasing) "There have been so many miracles that my family has witnessed. We have had so many family and friends offer their love and support, it has just been an amazing experience to be the recipients of everyone's acts of love and kindness. My family and I will never be the same."

... in a good way.

I guess life entails happiness, but then we will all face difficulty and even tragedy. I have learned something invaluable from Clark today. Regardless of what happens to us or how difficult things can sometimes get, it is important to keep one thing in mind...

Perspective.

One Year Later....




May 26, 2009

I don't know why I call him "Frax". Maybe just the rhyme. Probably the rhyme.

Of the two, Dax is the youngest. Elsie made her way quickly and effeciently into this world after three or so good pushes. She cried for a minute. Then she pretty much just chilled thereafter.

Dax was different.

Many have read the story from this previous post but to sum things up, Dax had a pretty rude introduction to this world. After being literally yanked out of his peaceful home, nearly breaking arms and legs (he was delivered breech), and then not being able to breathe for a good couple of minutes after extraction, Daxton's welcome was much less inviting than that of his sister's.

It has been four months now I am amazed at how much they have grown.


So how would I describe Dax a' Frax today?

Well, first. He is all boy.

Daxton has an insatiable appetite, but maybe that is just a Baker attribute. One thing is for sure, he has definately acquired the Baker belch. Alex and Isaac like to be in the room whenever Dax is nursing because like the consistency of Old Faithful, there is always a wall-rumbling belch of satisfaction after every feeding!

Another Daxism is although his intake is great, it seems his output is even greater! Daxton is a leaky, leaky faucet. Drool of all sorts is constantly seeping from his mouth which causes multiple daily outfit changes accompanied with constant carpet scrubbing. I am stunned at how he can spit up all that he has eaten and then immediately produce the cutest, big-eyed smile which instantly enables the holder to see past what has just occured, and reflect a heart-felt greeting in return.

Elsie likes to smile but one has to work for it. Daxton doesn't seem to stop smiling. His bald head and toothless grin is the perfect recipe for parental joy and is the antidote for any bad day. Frax's grunt laugh can brighten any room and it's contageousness is overwhelming.

Among so many other things, perhaps my favorite Frax attribute is his snuggleability. When the day is done and Frax is bathed and fed, I love to take him in my arms as he snuggles his head into my elbow pit, shielding his eyes from any sliver of light. He often falls asleep quickly and during those quiet few moments, I acknowledge how lucky I am to have such a joy in my life as Dax a' Frax.

Even if I have to change my shirt from his drool after I am done.

Those of you who know me, you know that I loathe getting my haircut.

Don't get me wrong, I love having a fresh do and enjoy the ability of hearing because my hair is no longer lopping over my ears. I simply hate the process, not the end result.

Allow me to explain.

Normally I walk into a salon and am greeted by this:


Next, he/she (whatever that is above) takes me back to a chair which belongs to Tenequa, The Hair Goddess (at least she thinks she is). This is Tenequa.


I tell her what I want, but I don't think she is really listening. She is completely engaged in a conversation with Opal (the stylist next to her) speaking in a language I don't understand. Not that I could understand anything because the music is so loud I can't hear the whining clippers assaulting my scalp... When they do try to talk to me and make polite conversation, I cringe and pray to find just the right answer that will disengage any need for further dialogue... She can just keep talking to Opal about who is pregnant now...

...just cut my hair.

She completes my "style", I drop a $20 on the counter, and I thank goodness I don't have to do that for another two months (or hopefully longer)!!

Well, today, something different happened.

I took the boys to school, and on the way home I noticed a shop called "Our Barber Shop". It is located on 10907 South and State in Sandy. The Phone is 801-576-5651. My wool had grown quite long and uncomfortable so I decided to give it a try.

The first thing I noticed was how busy it was. Lots of old, old men. The youngest patron was in his 70s. Instead of Tenequa, I was greeted by Harold. He must have been 75. His partner in crime, Raymond, had plenty of life experience as well. There was old fashioned music playing and everything seemed to move just a little slower. It was a breath of fresh air.

I sat down in a super comfy, black chair. Harold inquired how I liked my hair and I told him "just make it look nice" and off he went. It was wonderful! He told me about how things used to be. That you could eat at Chuck-a-Rama for $2.50. He told me about his military days. We discussed interesting things. It was like talking to my grandpa whom I miss dearly.

I knew I had arrived when every new/old comer entered the clingy door with the same greeting from my barber... "How you doin', Harold?" His response, "Still on the green side of the grass!"

And then the haircut... He cut all the normal things when I get my haircut, but then the real fun began. He heated up some shaving cream and began applying it to all those annoying places like my neck and around my ears. With quick, professional precision, he whipped out the biggest razor I had ever seen, and commenced his slaughter of all my pesky, unwanted follicles. At first, my heart began to beat a little faster, after all, he is a little advanced in age and one slip meant my jugular, but after a few minutes I just sat back, relaxed, and enjoyed the shear and shave.

And then came the old-man trim. He razored my burns, neck, plucked my ear hair, trimmed my bushy eyebrows, yanked out my nose hair, and he even took care of those filler hairs attempting to bridge the gap between my eyebrows creating my ominous unibrow. Well, not not today...

...not under Harold's watch.

After a final dash of aftershave, I was done.

I felt like giving Harold a hug.

Today, I am definitely happy I am "on the green side of the grass!"


PS... All for $10!