<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6266539187820218431</id><updated>2011-12-30T21:41:32.231-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Cooku's Nest</title><subtitle type='html'>A place to journal some of the interesting things that happen when you are in your 30's, married, and raising three small children.  Also a place to share some of my learnings and growings in this journey called life.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Mark</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>42</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6266539187820218431.post-255827893592170812</id><published>2011-08-06T22:32:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2011-08-06T22:59:12.764-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Baptism</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6urnrRi7E8c/Tj4blbih_oI/AAAAAAAAAI0/FG2QpxzYPVA/s1600/DSC00399.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6urnrRi7E8c/Tj4blbih_oI/AAAAAAAAAI0/FG2QpxzYPVA/s320/DSC00399.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637974113376140930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My oldest daughter, Esther, was baptized today.  I'm so proud of her.  It was a memorable day, to say the least.  Things were actually pretty calm getting everyone ready for the service.  My son didn't even complain about putting on his church clothes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esther was a bit nervous, as she didn't want a lot of people watching her.  The Lord was merciful in that regard (isn't He, though, in most regards?), as many of the people who would have come to the baptism were out of town for one reason or another.  Also, Esther was the only one in our ward being baptized this month.  A friend of hers was originally going to be baptized this month, but waited until next month for family reasons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the group of people was small and intimate.  Esther, myself, Susie, Jayson, Lizzie, Grandma Chris, Brian and Jennifer Christensen with their children (Caleb, Paige, and Tanner), Brother and Sister Swensen, Brother and Sister Ruiz, Brother Ball, Brother and Sister Stephen, Brandi Snyder (with Zayden and Eli), Bishop and Sister Keele, Sister Goodman, Kristina Pinner, and maybe two or three other people who I can't remember at the moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The water in the baptismal font was very warm.  I mean very warm.  As Esther put her foot into the water, she said, "It feels like a hot tub."  We had practiced baptism at home last night.  I wanted to do so for Esther to feel more comfortable, and also because I hadn't baptized someone since my mission (other than a couple of times doing baptism for the dead).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I actually had to baptize Esther three times.  The first time, her foot came up.  The second time, one of her pony tails came up.  The third time, all of her went under at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt a little bit embarrased, but the Spirit used it as a teaching opportunity for me (and also for my children).  The Lord does expect perfection from us.  The baptism ceremony must be performed just so.  However, He gives us as many chances as we need to get it right.  It is good for my perfectionistic children (especially my son) to learn that.  It is also good for perfectionistic me to learn that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a quick clothes change, I laid my hands on Esther's head (along with the Bishop, Brother Ball, Brother Stephen, and Brother Christensen) and confirmed her a member of the church, and commanded her to "receive the Holy Ghost."  As always, I felt the Spirit as I was blessing her.  The best blessings are the ones where I am merely the microphone, and the Lord is doing the talking.  He promised Esther that she would continue to develop skills for dealing with people, and also that the scriptures and gospel would be opened further to her understanding now that she has the Spirit with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the service, we went to Bajio for lunch (Esther's choice).  We invited those at the service to join us for lunch.  I have a fond memory of Jayson, who was sitting at his own table with Eli, Zayden, and Lizzie.  They certainly seemed to be enjoying themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We came home, and Esther got her new burgandy (red) scriptures (with her name on them).  Grandma Chris also gave her a CTR necklace in the shape of a ladybug.  I thought it was a nice and thoughtful gift. Esther isn't usually too much into jewelry, but she did wear her "big sister" necklace today.  Perhaps she is becoming more aware of the example she is setting for her younger brother and sister.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And she does set a good example for them.  Both of them talked about their future baptism today.  In fact, Lizzie wanted to play "baptism" in the pool when she went swimming this afternoon.  Cute, but I told her that we don't play games about baptism, as it is a sacred ordinance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so proud of my daughter.  It pleases me that there are now three of us in the home that have the Gift of the Holy Ghost.  We can have the Spirit with us all of the time, as long as we remain worthy of His presence.  Esther is growing into a lovely young woman.  It is great to see her grow in knowledge and strength, and to hear her determination to live as Heavenly Father wants her to.  She will do many great things to help build the kingdom of God if she continues in her present course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I have no greater joy than to hear that my children walk in truth." -3 John 1:4.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It brings great peace and contentment to my heart to see Esther baptized.  I am humbled and honored that I bear the Holy Priesthood, and can do these things for my family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we were waiting in the chapel for the baptism to begin, I took a moment to look at Esther sitting beside me.  I remembered the day we brought her home from the hospital, and part of the day she was born.  It doesn't really seem like it was that long ago when I brought home that beautiful, squawking bundle of joy.  She is becoming a wonderful woman, day by day.  I'm grateful that my children are growing up faithful in the Gospel.  May it ever so be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Congratulations Esther!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6266539187820218431-255827893592170812?l=cookusnest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/feeds/255827893592170812/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6266539187820218431&amp;postID=255827893592170812' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/255827893592170812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/255827893592170812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/2011/08/baptism.html' title='Baptism'/><author><name>Mark</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6urnrRi7E8c/Tj4blbih_oI/AAAAAAAAAI0/FG2QpxzYPVA/s72-c/DSC00399.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6266539187820218431.post-978954928731515998</id><published>2011-03-20T21:36:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-03-20T21:50:04.101-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthday Thoughts</title><content type='html'>I turned 37 today.  I'm just sitting here thinking through some of the things that I've learned (or re-learned) over the past year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been reminded that true happiness comes through living the gospel of Jesus Christ.  Gospel means "good news".  And what is the good news?  That Jesus loves us.  That He died for us.  That He not only took our sins upon Him, but also experienced our pains, sufferings, sorrows, and disappointments.  So that He could not only offer us salvation, but know how to succor us in our infirmities.  "For we have not an high priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities; but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin.  Let us therefore come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need." (Heb 4:15-16).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week was a poignant reminder of my need for mercy and grace in my life.  I am prone to bouts of anger, which I am ashamed to say that I sometimes take out on my wife and children.  One need not suppose that I strike them physically.  I've never been inclined to do so.  But my words and feelings can be very unkind and harsh at times.  My wife called me on it this week, pointing out things which I knew in my heart already, but perhaps needed to hear from mortal lips.  It was a difficult thing to hear, but needful.  I am working and striving to be a more kind and understanding husband and father, which is what I truly wish to be in the first place!  I have seen progress in the later half of this week.  But surely, I need mercy and grace from a loving Savior to help me stay the course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had our ward conference today.  One of the things that stuck out to me was that one of the speakers spoke on addictive habits, and how prevalent they are in our society today.  I am prone to such with websurfing and computer games, wasting many hours that could be spent in better things.  I want to be more wise with my time, and also teach my children the same, as they are prone to the same thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's really amazing how much things change over time.  I remember fragments from when I was younger.  I remember when my family got our first microwave, and our first VCR.  I remember when phones had a cord.  Speaking of which, I remember a cartoon in Boy's Life years and years ago.  The scouts in the cartoon travelled to the future.  The scout in the future indicated that everyone had a personal communication device via satellite, but that the satellites now had to be much lower.  They then ducked as a satellite whizzed over their heads.  In any case, that is not the future anymore.  It is the present, as I look at the prolifiration of cell phones.  As the old saying goes, science fiction is fact that hasn't happened yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's hoping that I may become more like my Savior as I begin the next year in my mortal sojourn.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6266539187820218431-978954928731515998?l=cookusnest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/feeds/978954928731515998/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6266539187820218431&amp;postID=978954928731515998' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/978954928731515998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/978954928731515998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/2011/03/birthday-thoughts.html' title='Birthday Thoughts'/><author><name>Mark</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6266539187820218431.post-7375858789156267872</id><published>2011-02-27T20:22:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2011-02-27T20:43:05.068-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Highlights</title><content type='html'>*Blows dust off of blog*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Chases away moths*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Removes cobwebs*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I'm still here, although I wonder if there is anyone left to read this. :)  Better infrequent updates than none at all, right?  So I am going to post a few highlights of what's been going on over the past few months, in no particular order.  Things that I can actually still remember that I want to be able to remember at some point in the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Esther is making great strides in her spiritual development.  It is a joy for me to watch my children growing up in light and truth.  She has shared her testimony at church twice in the past six months (unfortunately I missed both times, being home sick).  She has a good understanding of gospel principles, seems curious about learning additional truth, and asks insightful questions.  She also gave a good example of Christ-like behavior earlier this week.  Our family was at the school's book fair, and the kids brought their money.  Jayson had picked out a book that he wanted, but didn't have enough money for.  He started to cry when he realized he didn't have enough, and Susie started to comfort him.  Esther came over and asked why he was crying.  When we told her, Esther volunteered to *give* Jayson some of her own money so that he could buy the book he wanted!  Amazing.  Truly amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, she will be old enough to be baptized in a few months, and I'm looking forward to providing this saving ordinance for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* We took a family trip to Ohio to see family in September.  Our children really are amazing travel buddies.  We look forward to going out there again later this year, as my brother-in-law is getting married.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Lizzie had a first experience of the not-so-fun kind.  One Sunday afternoon in early December, I heard her crying loudly in the basement.  I went down, and discovered blood on her ear.  I found out later that she was climbing somewhere she shouldn't, and fell onto our wood-burning stove in the basement (not in use, fortunately).  The two of us made a quick trip to Instacare, where she got 10 stitches in her left ear.  She is doing fine, and the ear healed up extremely well.  But four is a bit young to be getting stitches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Jayson is finally potty trained!  Hallelujah!  He took his time getting there, but he has finally "got it".  We had a celebration party for him last Saturday at a local place called "Jump On It" (lots of big trampolines), and invited a few of his friends from school.  It was also nice for the parents, as we brought a board game for us to play while our children jumped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* I have been trying my hand at furniture assembly lately.  Got some cheap furniture from Shop-Ko at half-price during a sale.  It always takes longer than I think it is going to, but the girls have their own room with bunk beds, and Jayson has his room back with a mate's bed.  Although they enjoyed all sleeping in one big bed together, they are getting old enough that that is no longer practical.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* I'm still the Cubmaster.  I've been doing it for just over six years, and I enjoy it.  Two meetings a month (both of them short) and a trip to the Scout Office to pick up awards.  We always have a good group of boys and a good set of leaders.  I feel very blessed.  I'm also starting to feel a bit old.  Later this year, a boy named Ethan will be coming in to the pack.  I remember visiting his parents in the hospital when he was *born*.  Doesn't seem possible that he's almost old enough to be in Cub Scouts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* As far as feeling old goes, Susie and I are rapidly approaching our ninth anniversary.  I'm grateful that she has stuck in there with me, as we have definitely had our share of bumps in the road.  The good news is that our relationship continues to get better and better.  I am blessed to have her in my life, and I love her very much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not much else comes to mind, so I will close for the present.  Hope is well with all of you out there in blogland. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6266539187820218431-7375858789156267872?l=cookusnest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/feeds/7375858789156267872/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6266539187820218431&amp;postID=7375858789156267872' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/7375858789156267872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/7375858789156267872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/2011/02/highlights.html' title='Highlights'/><author><name>Mark</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6266539187820218431.post-1526148981127202777</id><published>2010-05-23T17:29:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-05-23T17:42:30.507-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Fathers and Sons Outing</title><content type='html'>This last Friday night/Saturday morning was the annual Fathers and Sons outing with my ward.  I've gone myself since I moved into the ward, and I've taken Jayson ever since he was born (he was about 9 months old the first time he went).  The only year I missed was last year, when I was extremely sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How did it go this year?  Now that's an interesting question.  My son almost fell asleep in the car on the way up there.  I awoke him when we got there.  He wasn't interested in his dinner (with the exception of the chocolate milk and the toy.  Yes, I went through the drive-thru on the way up there.  Maybe we'll cook something up there when he's older).  He sat in front of the fire, but looked like he was about to fall asleep and possibly go face first into the fire.  Since I don't worship Moloch, I'm not particuarly interested in feeding my kids to the fire, not even on their worst days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I had him help me get things from the car, and I started to set up the tent.  He didn't want to run and play.  He wanted to sleep.  So I set up his sleeping bag inside the tent and bade him good night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I enjoyed the remainder of the evening.  I had some nice chats with some of the other brothers in the ward.  I had two smores, which I didn't need, especially considering the contents of my dinner.  I also brought some extra chocolate and graham crackers to share with others.  I've mooched a couple of times over the past years, and figured it was my chance to repay the good karma of others.  The fire was very warm, as one of the other attendees had brought a large stump to add to the wood supply in the fire pit.  The presentation by the bishop was also very well done, and a good reminder of the unique and great power that I have been given.  Most celebrities do not have the power that I have been entrusted with, and it was a good reminder for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then came bedtime, and things went steadily downhill.  I couldn't find a comfortable position.  The ground seems to be harder than it was when I was younger.  It rained, which got our tent and some of our stuff wet.  Also, Jayson didn't sleep particularly well.  A couple of times I was about to fall asleep, and he started talking to me.  After going in and out of short sleep blocks until about 4:45, I finally got a decent block.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We woke up late the next morning.  The ward was preparing breakfast.  Most of the pancakes were gone, but I grabbed one for Jayson (along with a couple of pieces of bacon) before heading off to the restroom.  When I came back a few minutes later, all of the pancakes were gone, which didn't make me very happy.  We packed up and came home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So a mixed bag?  Certainly.  But I will be back next year.  Assuming the tent has dried out by then. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S: I was just kidding on the last sentence.  I set the tent up shortly after we got home, and it was bone dry later in the day, along with everything else that got wet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6266539187820218431-1526148981127202777?l=cookusnest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/feeds/1526148981127202777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6266539187820218431&amp;postID=1526148981127202777' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/1526148981127202777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/1526148981127202777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/2010/05/fathers-and-sons-outing.html' title='Fathers and Sons Outing'/><author><name>Mark</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6266539187820218431.post-4098399620200240514</id><published>2010-05-15T18:06:00.009-06:00</published><updated>2010-05-15T19:13:20.547-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Visiting the Mouse</title><content type='html'>It's been over a month, but I'm finally posting some pictures from our recent Disneyland vacation. Yes, I know I said it would be a few more years before I returned, but we decided to go again this year. To make things more interesting, we drove. A few years ago, driving from Orem to California would have been daunting, but after last year's drive to Minnesota and Ohio, it seemed like a walk in the park by comparison. :) We also went solo for the first time. On our other trips, we have gone with at least one other family member or friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The drive both ways was uneventful, other than rain and wind on the way down. The weather was beautiful, the complimentary breakfast at the hotel was tasty, and the kids were reasonably well behaved. I was also grateful for my cell phone (a fairly recent purchase, yes I know, now I can join the 20th century), which made it very easy to split up and then meet up later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of my favorite moments were taking Esther and Jayson on a roller-coaster for the first time (both of them loved their first ride, Jayson didn't enjoy the second time around), a brief solo excursion to Tommorowland one evening (including catching part of the fireworks show in the park), and meeting up with family one day and a close friend on another day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a nutshell, the trip goes far smoother when the kids are a little bit older. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are a few pictures from our most recent adventure:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/S-847hw4A7I/AAAAAAAAAHo/mC_xqOMLzhE/s1600/Disneyland6.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471654667605246898" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/S-847hw4A7I/AAAAAAAAAHo/mC_xqOMLzhE/s320/Disneyland6.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lizzie enjoyed riding the "ponies."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/S-84xWI5_KI/AAAAAAAAAHg/g15MpP35BNs/s1600/Disneyland5.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471654492686122146" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/S-84xWI5_KI/AAAAAAAAAHg/g15MpP35BNs/s320/Disneyland5.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This picture of Lizzie is almost identical to one taken of her big sister Esther four years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/S-84wnRNoKI/AAAAAAAAAHY/ma0UppkHfO4/s1600/Disneyland4.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471654480104497314" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/S-84wnRNoKI/AAAAAAAAAHY/ma0UppkHfO4/s320/Disneyland4.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is this Mickey Mouse operation anyway? ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/S-84wQErcoI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/0cvbtjMthPg/s1600/Disneyland3.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471654473877910146" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/S-84wQErcoI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/0cvbtjMthPg/s320/Disneyland3.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esther near the carousel in Fantasyland.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/S-84v_ggy1I/AAAAAAAAAHI/ZnOhrgE7DNM/s1600/Disneyland2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471654469431249746" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/S-84v_ggy1I/AAAAAAAAAHI/ZnOhrgE7DNM/s320/Disneyland2.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jayson eagerly anticipates the day's adventures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/S-84vSx1gvI/AAAAAAAAAHA/EamFFIPxs0U/s1600/Disneyland1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471654457424315122" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/S-84vSx1gvI/AAAAAAAAAHA/EamFFIPxs0U/s320/Disneyland1.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lizzie caught in a moment of spontaneous Disney magic and happiness. I had just finished taking another picture while looking the other way. I turned around with the camera in my hands, and was able to capture this priceless photo. Sometimes you get lucky as a photographer. :) I've always felt that the best shots are the candid ones.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6266539187820218431-4098399620200240514?l=cookusnest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/feeds/4098399620200240514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6266539187820218431&amp;postID=4098399620200240514' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/4098399620200240514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/4098399620200240514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/2010/05/visiting-mouse.html' title='Visiting the Mouse'/><author><name>Mark</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/S-847hw4A7I/AAAAAAAAAHo/mC_xqOMLzhE/s72-c/Disneyland6.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6266539187820218431.post-8806191256759847849</id><published>2010-02-21T21:24:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-21T21:32:07.227-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hey, How is Everyone?</title><content type='html'>October 2009?  Ugh!  It goes without saying, but I'm not the best at updating my blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm really not sure what I will be typing tonight.  Sometimes things are random like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kids are getting bigger.  Esther is more than halfway through first grade.  She is learning more about math, reading, writing, and spelling.  In fact, her spelling is at a third grade level!  Not bad at all.  Jayson will be starting kindergarten in the fall.  I'm hoping he will be using the potty regularly by that point.  Lizzie is three and a half, and is getting much better at using her words to express herself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm very very tired tonight.  Not quite fully bone-weary, but that probably has more to do with the short nap I got this afternoon.  It has been a very busy 2010 so far, physically and emotionally.  In some ways, it has felt like a prolonged ride in a whirlpool (the river kind, not the warm water in a tub kind), or spinning through an endless void.  I'm hoping that things will calm down a bit over the next week or two.  A couple of the bigger pieces that have kept me spinning have been resolved over the past week or so, so I'm crossing my fingers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something that I wish, that I'm not very good at.  It seems like most of us put on our best faces, our superman capes, and our fake smiles, and pretend that everything is all right in our worlds.  And we don't allow other to help us.  I wish that people could be more honest with themselves and with others, and that we could accept and give help to each other.  It would make things so much easier.  I'm not suggesting that we always stay despondent and down in the dumps.  But it would be nice if we could ask for the help that we need, and have others there willing and able to provide that help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, the old grey matter is shutting down, so I guess that I have written what needed to be written.  I hope it is helpful for someone other than me.  If not, well, I guess you get what you pay for. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6266539187820218431-8806191256759847849?l=cookusnest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/feeds/8806191256759847849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6266539187820218431&amp;postID=8806191256759847849' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/8806191256759847849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/8806191256759847849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/2010/02/hey-how-is-everyone.html' title='Hey, How is Everyone?'/><author><name>Mark</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6266539187820218431.post-1844747143745812441</id><published>2009-10-04T22:10:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T22:18:19.853-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Reflections from General Conference</title><content type='html'>It's been an interesting an thoughtful two days.  I've learned some important (and sometimes difficult) things about myself over the past two days as I've listened to those the Lord has chosen to lead and guide us, and also the whisperings of the Holy Ghost in my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First and foremost, I feel the need to repent.  No one need suppose me guilty of any great or malignant sins.  The disposition to commit such is not in my nature.  But I have not been as dilligent as I should have been.  I have allowed anger and fear into my heart and countenance, thus blocking the Spirit from operating in my life as I would like.  I have also become casual in my scripture study and prayer.  All of these things have affected me, as well as my family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feeling the stirrings of repentance, I have pledged to have morning prayer and improve my evening prayer, and recommitted myself to daily scripture study.  These two things, prayer and scripture study each day, make a huge difference.  There is a noticable difference when I am doing what I should be doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have also apologized to my wife and kids for my poor behavior over the past little while.  I have been angrier than is needful, which has lead me to snap at my wife and be a mean Daddy (not in the helpful sense of "mean" either - you parent know what I mean).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can also bear testimony of the power of the Lord to sustain.  About a week ago, we had friends visiting.  There was a night where several members of both family were sick and throwing up.  I was already on my last legs physically and emotionally, and this rapidly drained my meager reserves.  At about the time I ran out of energy, something remarkable happened.  I was able to walk back and forth, and up and down, to do what was needful.  I was able to be gentle, kind, and loving.  In a literal way, I felt carried.  The Lord always keeps His promises, and He is always there to lend us strength when we need it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is the other thing that I took home from Conference.  Even though I have not lived the commandments as I ought to have done, repentance is always available.  I can begin today, tonight, this very moment to do the things that I should.  I can humble myself and pray for forgiveness.  I can listen more carefully for the quiet whisperings of the Spirit, which can direct me in all that I do.  For this, I am grateful.  And it is available to all, no matter their race, gender, skin color, or age.  The Lord is truly no respector of persons, and all are under the umbrella of His love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6266539187820218431-1844747143745812441?l=cookusnest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/feeds/1844747143745812441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6266539187820218431&amp;postID=1844747143745812441' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/1844747143745812441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/1844747143745812441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/2009/10/reflections-from-general-conference.html' title='Reflections from General Conference'/><author><name>Mark</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6266539187820218431.post-4354712492625280216</id><published>2009-09-03T18:21:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-09-03T18:24:40.528-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Wisdom from a Two Year Old</title><content type='html'>Wisdom can come from the most unlikely of places.  I've often found that my children can be unusually wise, as they are as yet untainted by the world.  Today's wisdom comes from Lizzie (although she will be three in just over a week, she still qualifies as a two year old for now).  My eldest had just finished her prayer for dinner.  Then comes this wisdom from Lizzie:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Jesus gimme hug.  Jesus love me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I assured Lizzie that Jesus would indeed give her a hug if He were to appear.  And I know that Jesus loves Lizzie.  I'm gratefully that Lizzie knows this too, and at the tender age of two (almost three).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6266539187820218431-4354712492625280216?l=cookusnest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/feeds/4354712492625280216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6266539187820218431&amp;postID=4354712492625280216' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/4354712492625280216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/4354712492625280216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/2009/09/wisdom-from-two-year-old.html' title='Wisdom from a Two Year Old'/><author><name>Mark</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6266539187820218431.post-904314622254834147</id><published>2009-08-30T16:19:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-30T16:34:04.436-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Our Latest Family Member</title><content type='html'>I'm a little late posting this, but better late than never. About two months ago, we became the proud owners of a mini Rex rabbit. His (her?) name is Dash. Susie originally bought him, but he has quickly become the family pet. He has brought great joy to our family with his antics. I have discovered that this particular rabbit is friendly, curious, clever, and more than a little bit mischevious. Not unlike a toddler, really. :) Also, he does not like being picked up. Although I can empathise with that. I wouldn't want to be picked up by some alien twenty times bigger than me either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the first time in my life that I have had a pet. It is very enjoyable, as well as a decent amount of work. But it is very rewarding when I am petting Dash, and he flops down onto his side next to me. Or when he gives any available skin on my arm or leg a good washing with his tongue (a rabbit way of saying "I like you"). It is a bit frustrating when he quickly figures a way around a poorly placed gate and gets into places he knows he shouldn't be. And it is nice to have another family member.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there is one big advantage to owning a rabbit versus raising children. I can put the rabbit in his cage if he misbehaves too much. :&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, here are some pictures of our new addition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/Spr8810fwAI/AAAAAAAAAEo/dGAu5v0LCxk/s1600-h/1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375887227389722626" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/Spr8810fwAI/AAAAAAAAAEo/dGAu5v0LCxk/s320/1.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dash chills out in his hutch upstairs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/Spr89VDKvHI/AAAAAAAAAEw/9fbgu8jukAQ/s1600-h/2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375887235772759154" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/Spr89VDKvHI/AAAAAAAAAEw/9fbgu8jukAQ/s320/2.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dash enjoying lunch&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/Spr892lRVFI/AAAAAAAAAE4/CdgL3O8GDeM/s1600-h/3.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375887244774167634" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/Spr892lRVFI/AAAAAAAAAE4/CdgL3O8GDeM/s320/3.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dash likes having his head rubbed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/Spr8-Rf3CjI/AAAAAAAAAFA/2nIWaEx89-s/s1600-h/4.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375887251999230514" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/Spr8-Rf3CjI/AAAAAAAAAFA/2nIWaEx89-s/s320/4.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dash checking out Esther&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/Spr8-7E2r1I/AAAAAAAAAFI/R3Y0jJrD2tE/s1600-h/5.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375887263160250194" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/Spr8-7E2r1I/AAAAAAAAAFI/R3Y0jJrD2tE/s320/5.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lizzie and Esther giving the bunny some loves&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6266539187820218431-904314622254834147?l=cookusnest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/feeds/904314622254834147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6266539187820218431&amp;postID=904314622254834147' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/904314622254834147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/904314622254834147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/2009/08/our-latest-family-member.html' title='Our Latest Family Member'/><author><name>Mark</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/Spr8810fwAI/AAAAAAAAAEo/dGAu5v0LCxk/s72-c/1.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6266539187820218431.post-6002470550844453338</id><published>2009-08-16T22:45:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-16T22:47:10.590-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Weary</title><content type='html'>Why is it that I am still up when I know I should be in bed?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do I know that a thing is wrong...and then do it anyway?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do I sabotage my own efforts to change and improve?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do I make so many mistakes and cause myself and my family unnecessary heartache?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When will I do all the things I know to be right, letting go of my fear of the unknown?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When will I cry and let the pain out instead of storing it inside?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6266539187820218431-6002470550844453338?l=cookusnest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/feeds/6002470550844453338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6266539187820218431&amp;postID=6002470550844453338' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/6002470550844453338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/6002470550844453338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/2009/08/weary.html' title='Weary'/><author><name>Mark</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6266539187820218431.post-511151247816505642</id><published>2009-07-26T14:21:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-26T14:41:08.154-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Thoughts</title><content type='html'>I'm sitting here in front of the computer, and I can't escape the prompting that I need to blog.  I'm not sure about what yet, hence the title. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I will start with our latest vacation (yes, we had them in back-to-back months).  July 11-17, we went to one of our favorite family vacation spots: Aspen Grove.  This is the third year that we have done the family camp, and we all very much enjoy it (we're already looking at going again next year).  All of the kids had moved to a new age group.  Esther was a Bobcat, Jayson was a Tromper, and Lizzie was in the oldest Romper group.  This also involved different drop-off locations for Jayson and Lizzie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a very nice and relaxing week.  I love the beautiful mountain scenery.  I love the food.  I love all of the different activities, all of which are optional.  And I love how they take my kids for several hours each day. :D  We had a lot of fun, and made some new friends.  Here are some highlights, in no particular order:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Dance Dance Revolution contest with Susie.  I was worn out for the rest of the day.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Discovering a new board game (Carcassonne), and playing it with new friends, one of whom is a cousin of one of my best friends from college.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Swimming in the pool with all three children.  Esther discovered that she could swim by herself with a life jacket on.  Both she and Lizzie went down the slide into the pool this year.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Esther enthusiastically singing her Bobcat cheer and the "Fireman" song in the closing program.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;BYU Creamery ice cream available at the store whenever I wanted some.  I had more than was good for me. :)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;To my great suprise, winning first place in the air rifle shooting competition.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Watching Susie play and win first place in the women's singles badmitton.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Shooting paper rockets during family time on Monday.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Random visits from Ava, an energetic 4-year old who was staying across the hall from us, and whom Esther met in Primary on Sunday.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The huge smile on Esther's face when she got a song and a birthday cake the night before her birthday.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Naps.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;So as you can see, we had a good time.  I'll have to upload some pictures when I get around to getting them off of the camera and onto the computer.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The day we got back from Aspen Grove (Friday) was also Esther's birthday.  My mother came down, and we had an enjoyable time together.  The next day, we went to Chuck-E-Cheese, and also had one of Esther's best friends from school (Torrey) over to our house.  It's hard to believe that my little baby girl is now six.  I have two more years to teach and hopefully provide a good example before she has the opportunity to be baptized.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Yesterday was also an enjoyable day.  The Elder's Quorum sponsored its annual "Trim and Swim".  I went and helped mow lawns and haul away dead tree branches in the morning.  In the afternoon, my family and I went to a nearby large home that has a pair of swimming pools (complete with waterslides) for the "Swim" portion of the activity.  I wore myself out, and Susie, Esther, and Jayson all got sunburns, but we had fun.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;This weekend was also the 24th of July celebration, which is a holiday in Utah, so I took the opportunity to set off some more fireworks.  This time, I didn't burn my thumb (like I did on the 4th), and everyone seemed to have an enjoyable time.  Esther and Lizzie took naps so that they could watch the fireworks.  I was glad to include them, although it was a major pain to get them to bed after that.  Jayson was going to watch a late movie instead (he doesn't care for fireworks at this point in his life), but the poor guy slept right through, only waking up briefly to complain that he was still in his clothes.  I helped him into his pajamas, and he went straight back to bed.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I've still been struggling with the computer games.  Yesterday, I came very close to re-downloading one of the ones that I deleted back in April.  I had actually started the download.  Fortunately, it is a very large download, so I took the time to look through the mail.  Included in the mail were the latest church magazines for August.  As I thumbed through the Ensign, I happened on an article about online computer games.  It was enough to bring me back to my senses and stop the download.  I'm grateful for the Lord and His tender mercies in watching out for me.  I really feel like I was snatched out of an extremely dangerous situation.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'm also grateful that I am in the position to teach my children about this.  I know at least one of my children shares my tendencies for computer game addiction, and I want to help guide her to a safer path, if possible.  It's not that computer games are bad.  It's the excessive and addictive nature of them that make them dangerous.  Besides, there are so many better things with which I could be spending my time.  Thank you to those of you who have prayed for me.  Your prayers are deeply and gratefully appreciated.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;That's all for this round.  Maybe I'll get some pictures posted later.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6266539187820218431-511151247816505642?l=cookusnest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/feeds/511151247816505642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6266539187820218431&amp;postID=511151247816505642' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/511151247816505642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/511151247816505642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/2009/07/random-thoughts.html' title='Random Thoughts'/><author><name>Mark</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6266539187820218431.post-2824924985120407573</id><published>2009-06-21T15:03:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-21T15:18:03.039-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Father of a Kindergartner no longer</title><content type='html'>Yes, Esther has graduated from Kindergarten.  It's very odd, as it seems like it was just the other day when I took her for her first day of school.  They've really done a fantastic job at her school, and Esther has been working hard too.  She was already well on her way to reading before going to school, but her abilities have jumped by leaps and bounds.  I am very impressed with the school in general, and with her kindergarten teacher Ms. Thompson in particular.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did indeed get the chance to do a magic show for Esther's kindergarten, just three days before her kindergarten graduation.  The show went reasonably well, although I did have one major prop malfunction.  I'll tell you, kids are a really sharp audience.  They didn't miss a single thing.  Sometimes that worked to my advantage, and sometimes not.  I did enjoy doing it, though.  It was my first "live flight", if you will, a magic show done for someone other than my family and close friends.  I learned quite a bit about what works and what doesn't work.  It's all part of becoming a better magician.  It was very rewarding, when I got a collective chorus of "Ooooh" from the watching children. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this was all at the end of May.  Why am I just now writing about all of this?  Because the same day as Esther's kindergarten graduation, after dinner, we all piled into the truck and drove halfway across the country.  We first drove to Minnesota to see some dear friends of the family.  After a couple of days of recuperation, we drove to Ohio to visit Susie's family, and pick up some of her things.  After a few more days, we returned home the way that we came.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll say this much.  It was quite an adventure!  We did a lot of driving at night while the kids attempted to sleep in their car seats.  Part of me still can't believe that we went all of that way, and then all of the way back.  I became quite familiar with the gas stations and rest stops along I-80.  I also got a firsthand experience of navigating the roads in the Chicago area in the middle of the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a good trip.  The kids seemed to enjoy themselves, and they were exceptional travel buddies.  They did as well as a 5, 3, and 2 year old could be expected.  It was good to see our friends in Minnesota as well, as the last time we were out there, Esther hadn't quite learned to crawl.  Susie's family was cordial as well, and the kids got to swim in a swimming pool at the hotel we stayed at in Ohio (which they were very excited about).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know that I would take such a long drive again in the near future.  But shorter trips should be no big deal now.  The Minnesota/Ohio trip was around 2,000 miles one way.  Two hours and 120 miles to Logan sounds like a quick jaunt down the street compared to what we did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The trip took up the first week and a half of June.  Unfortunately, we got sick right at the end of the trip.  I actually got sick the day before our last driving leg (Minnesota to Utah).  I was sustained in a miraculous way to be able to drive on not much sleep, but I've been recovering ever since.  Two of the kids, and Susie, also got sick once we got home.  And then there are all of the little things that tend to pile up when you're gone for a week and a half.  But thanks to the Lord's mercies, we are beginning to get back on top of things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's our latest adventures from these parts.  Oh, and Happy Father's Day to all of the dads out there!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6266539187820218431-2824924985120407573?l=cookusnest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/feeds/2824924985120407573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6266539187820218431&amp;postID=2824924985120407573' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/2824924985120407573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/2824924985120407573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/2009/06/father-of-kindergartner-no-longer.html' title='Father of a Kindergartner no longer'/><author><name>Mark</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6266539187820218431.post-6857800513031516708</id><published>2009-05-17T13:23:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-17T13:36:13.617-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Certifiably Insane?</title><content type='html'>I've been working on improving my magic lately.  Although I won't put David Copperfield out of business anytime soon, I am getting better.  I now consider myself an amateur magician, rather than a beginning magician.  I owe many thanks to Susie.  She asked me to perform a show on her birthday, which gave me the motivation to start practicing again after an absence of several months.  She also came up with another idea to keep me going.  She suggested I make my services available for Esther's kindergarten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I initially dismissed the idea, but the more I thought about it, the more I couldn't get it out of my head.  I do enjoy performing magic, and I have always thought it would be fun to perform for children.  My own interest in magic came through seeing magicians in my youth.  So I sent off an email to Esther's teacher.  No response.  I dismissed the idea and thought nothing of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well on Friday, I went to an activity at Esther's school involving the fathers of the kindergartners ("Guys and Games", which was enjoyable in its own right).  I asked Esther's teacher if she had gotten my email, and she said that she hadn't.  I then mentioned that I am an amateur magician, and Esther's teacher got excited.  She mentioned it to the other kindergarten teacher, who said, "Why are we just now finding this out?" :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's how I volunteered myself to do a 20-30 minute magic show for 40 kindergartners a week from Tuesday.  I'll either have a lot of fun, or I'm insane.  Perhaps a mixture of both. :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6266539187820218431-6857800513031516708?l=cookusnest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/feeds/6857800513031516708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6266539187820218431&amp;postID=6857800513031516708' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/6857800513031516708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/6857800513031516708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/2009/05/certifiably-insane.html' title='Certifiably Insane?'/><author><name>Mark</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6266539187820218431.post-8856095824428537560</id><published>2009-04-05T13:37:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-05T13:42:21.069-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I Need Your Help</title><content type='html'>Hello my blog readers,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a long time since I've posted, partly for the reason I'm asking for your help.  You see, I struggle with computer game addiction.  I have for most of my life.  Recently, I have been seeing signs that it was time to put the games away...again.  They just aren't satisfying.  Entertaining, yes, but they won't fill the void that I am looking for them to fill.  Only Jesus can do that.  And I also need to keep working on my emotional issues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I had realized the unsatisfying-ness of them.  Also, the computer has developed a hardware problem that causes it to shut down periodically when I am playing games...but not for any other program.  I could fix the problem, sure, but I took it as a sign that there were better things I could be doing with my time.  The first talk in General Conference yesterday was the clincher for me.  As I listened to the end of the talk on TV, I came over to the computer and uninstalled my personal games.  It was the right thing to do.  President Uchtdorf's talk in Priesthood Session only strengthened my resolve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See the thing is, I've been down this road before.  The addiction and the desire to play computer games runs very strong in me.  I am firm in my commitment now.  But I am afraid that I will forget.  I am afraid that I will return unto these distractions again, as they divert my attention from the things in life that really matter.  That's why I am asking for your help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will you please pray for me?  Pray for me to resist the temptation.  Pray for me to find healthier things with which to fill the void.  Thank you so much.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6266539187820218431-8856095824428537560?l=cookusnest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/feeds/8856095824428537560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6266539187820218431&amp;postID=8856095824428537560' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/8856095824428537560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/8856095824428537560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-need-your-help.html' title='I Need Your Help'/><author><name>Mark</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6266539187820218431.post-4416984860053323304</id><published>2009-01-11T20:33:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-11T20:40:42.260-07:00</updated><title type='text'>More pictures for a new year</title><content type='html'>Hello all,&lt;br /&gt;I originally planned to post an unusual and inspiring experience that happened to me a couple of days ago. But first, I want to post some more pictures. All of these were taken this year (2009). Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/SWq662h2FfI/AAAAAAAAAEg/6-d1y-qJex8/s1600-h/DSC00027.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290246232532719090" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/SWq662h2FfI/AAAAAAAAAEg/6-d1y-qJex8/s320/DSC00027.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lizzie having fun after church.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/SWq6wGBQJ6I/AAAAAAAAAEY/565KS8M_Jrs/s1600-h/DSC00024.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290246047712421794" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/SWq6wGBQJ6I/AAAAAAAAAEY/565KS8M_Jrs/s320/DSC00024.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jayson and I wearing our new Christmas vests, compliments of Grandma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/SWq6v33MYUI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/CI9kvBco_ac/s1600-h/DSC00022.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290246043912134978" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/SWq6v33MYUI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/CI9kvBco_ac/s320/DSC00022.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esther reading to Jayson at bedtime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/SWq6vtwVfDI/AAAAAAAAAEI/Q87qMF4ls3Y/s1600-h/DSC00020.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290246041199017010" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/SWq6vtwVfDI/AAAAAAAAAEI/Q87qMF4ls3Y/s320/DSC00020.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lizzie's new hairdo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/SWq6vVPHmDI/AAAAAAAAAEA/iuWan54xALw/s1600-h/DSC00004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290246034617243698" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/SWq6vVPHmDI/AAAAAAAAAEA/iuWan54xALw/s320/DSC00004.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kids playing in the igloo Susie made in our front yard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/SWq6uMgjneI/AAAAAAAAAD4/Rhn634BHfmQ/s1600-h/DSC00003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290246015094595042" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/SWq6uMgjneI/AAAAAAAAAD4/Rhn634BHfmQ/s320/DSC00003.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here's a better shot of the igloo, although it's harder to see Esther and Jayson inside.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6266539187820218431-4416984860053323304?l=cookusnest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/feeds/4416984860053323304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6266539187820218431&amp;postID=4416984860053323304' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/4416984860053323304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/4416984860053323304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/2009/01/more-pictures-for-new-year.html' title='More pictures for a new year'/><author><name>Mark</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/SWq662h2FfI/AAAAAAAAAEg/6-d1y-qJex8/s72-c/DSC00027.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6266539187820218431.post-3626134775398603268</id><published>2008-12-21T20:04:00.006-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-21T20:22:15.114-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A few pictures</title><content type='html'>Here are a few pictures to go with my most recent post, and a couple that have absolutely no relation to my last post. Hey, I can't get too predictable, can I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/SU8F-vMvdaI/AAAAAAAAADo/peN9_3S0ciY/s1600-h/StLouisCouple.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282447463308817826" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/SU8F-vMvdaI/AAAAAAAAADo/peN9_3S0ciY/s320/StLouisCouple.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Susie and I in St. Louis. Gee, it actually looks like we like each other!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/SU8EzZy2iLI/AAAAAAAAADA/XJ2SQmGltu4/s1600-h/nano_08_winner_large.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282446169072896178" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/SU8EzZy2iLI/AAAAAAAAADA/XJ2SQmGltu4/s320/nano_08_winner_large.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My NaNoWriMo "Winner" image. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/SU8Ey2rCQQI/AAAAAAAAACw/mVXuVZ15O8Y/s1600-h/EstherHair.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282446159644868866" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/SU8Ey2rCQQI/AAAAAAAAACw/mVXuVZ15O8Y/s320/EstherHair.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Esther holds her latest "kill" (her ponytail).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/SU8EznXyQKI/AAAAAAAAADI/_x4pJYYHTe0/s1600-h/Jayson.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282446172717465762" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/SU8EznXyQKI/AAAAAAAAADI/_x4pJYYHTe0/s320/Jayson.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jayson coloring one of his favoritest things: Trains!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/SU8EzzRCHTI/AAAAAAAAADQ/RAUWDf9liYw/s1600-h/Lizzie.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282446175910370610" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/SU8EzzRCHTI/AAAAAAAAADQ/RAUWDf9liYw/s320/Lizzie.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lizzie just being cute (and boy, does she know it!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/SU8F-r-JiiI/AAAAAAAAADw/ZhZD_K7yyWM/s1600-h/MyGirls.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282447462442306082" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 256px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/SU8F-r-JiiI/AAAAAAAAADw/ZhZD_K7yyWM/s320/MyGirls.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My girls. :) Aren't I a lucky guy? I think so!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6266539187820218431-3626134775398603268?l=cookusnest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/feeds/3626134775398603268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6266539187820218431&amp;postID=3626134775398603268' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/3626134775398603268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/3626134775398603268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/2008/12/few-pictures.html' title='A few pictures'/><author><name>Mark</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/SU8F-vMvdaI/AAAAAAAAADo/peN9_3S0ciY/s72-c/StLouisCouple.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6266539187820218431.post-1065921462979395267</id><published>2008-12-21T19:47:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-21T19:58:47.832-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Boy, it's been awhile!</title><content type='html'>Hard to believe it's been two and a half months since I last blogged!  I'm not going to try to fill you in on everything that I've done lately (I can hear the sighs of relief from here), but I will touch on a few highlights.  Prepare yourself for the list format once again!  *diabolical laughter from the shadows*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;In October, Susie and I had the opportunity to take a trip to St Louis, Missouri.  A dear friend of the family was getting married, and we flew out to join the festivities.  Maia and her beau were married in the St Louis temple, which I had never been to before.  Unfortunately, the directions I got off of the web were a bit inaccurate.  Getting there was a real trial of faith, but we did make it in time for the wedding.  And with less than a minute to spare!  (whew).  The trip was also memorable for me because it is the longest trip that Susie and I have taken together without the kids since before Esther was born.  Many thanks to Grandma Chris and Becky for watching our treasures so that Susie and I could get a much needed vacation.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I participated in a challenge called NaNoWriMo in November.  NaNoWriMo is short for National Novel Writing Month.  The challenge is to write a 50,000 word novel during the month of November.  I got started a few days late, but I successfully completed the challenge on November 29th!  The novel isn't exactly in publishable format, but it was exhilirating to write it!  I remember that I really enjoyed writing stories when I was a young boy in elementary school, and this is one of the first times since then that I have done it.  And certainly, it is the longest story I have ever written.  I suppose that one of these days I should actually finsh the story and then start revising it, but I haven't felt like it.  But it was major progress toward one of my goals, which is a good thing.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;As far as my other goal goes, I haven't made huge progress in learning magic.  But I got my interest rekindled earlier this month.  On December 1st, the family went to a Christmas celebration at the Provo library.  The festivities included a magician, who we went to see.  Susie and I saw another magic show at my company's party later that week.  The second magician was quite good, and rekindled some of the childlike wonder I feel toward magic.  And through my studies, I have a pretty good idea how some of the magic works, which added to my enjoyment.  I talked to the magician after the show, and learned that there is a local group of an international magician's organization that meets monthly in the Provo/Orem area!  I hope to be able to attend one of their meetings in the near future.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I got an award at work last week.  Every quarter, a few employees get an "Above and Beyond" award.  My supervisor nominated me for the award, and I received it at the company meeting.  The award came with a nice certificate and an equally nice cash award. :)  I don't need the recognition, but it is nice all the same.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;After almost five and a half years, Esther decided to get her hair cut.  She looks different with short hair, but still cute.  In fact, the cuteness comes from inside, so Esther would be cute even with no hair at all.  She is also donating the hair to Locks of Love, something that Susie encouraged her to do (having participated in the charity herself).  I think that is a good thing to do.  I would donate myself, but I don't think I would look very good with long hair.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;Those are the main highlights.  There have also been several challenges over the last two or three months, but I don't think I'll focus on them right now.  Suffice it to say, I would shed no tears if I didn't go back to work until next year.  Oh well.  I only have to work two days next week, so I guess I won't complain too loudly.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6266539187820218431-1065921462979395267?l=cookusnest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/feeds/1065921462979395267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6266539187820218431&amp;postID=1065921462979395267' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/1065921462979395267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/1065921462979395267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/2008/12/boy-its-been-awhile.html' title='Boy, it&apos;s been awhile!'/><author><name>Mark</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6266539187820218431.post-3344646981062418556</id><published>2008-10-09T12:57:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-09T13:02:18.898-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A Small Piece of Self Acceptance</title><content type='html'>I had an interesting experience on Tuesday night.  Tuesday is my racquetball night.  The local fitness center has a racquetball league in the fall and winter, and I have participated for several years.  It is enjoyable, and I get to see a lot of different play styles, along with a wide range of skill levels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now in racquetball, there are those who are professional players, and those who are more recreational players.  I feel like I fall somewhere in the middle.  I'm not really good enough to consider myself a pro, but I am reasonably good, and I enjoy playing regularly.  I've toyed with the idea of playing more often and practicing more to boost my skill level, but I've never been serious enough about it (when it comes down to it, I really dislike doing drills, which are necessary to get really good.  Also, I would also need to lose quite a bit of weight).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I got home after league on Tuesday night, I hopped into the shower.  It's amazing how many of my "Aha" moments come in the shower!  Anyway, I realized that I accepted myself as a recreational racquetball player.  That may seem like a simple statement.  However, being a perfectionist, I rarely accept any portion of myself or my behavior.  So just being able to accept a small portion of myself is a big thing.  I further realized that I am okay where I am.  I am content to be a recreational racquetball player, who goes and plays once a week or so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's nice to be able to accept a part of myself.  I believe that I need to accept myself where I am before I can change.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6266539187820218431-3344646981062418556?l=cookusnest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/feeds/3344646981062418556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6266539187820218431&amp;postID=3344646981062418556' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/3344646981062418556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/3344646981062418556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/2008/10/small-piece-of-self-acceptance.html' title='A Small Piece of Self Acceptance'/><author><name>Mark</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6266539187820218431.post-4025408881099709040</id><published>2008-09-28T17:52:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-28T17:56:51.495-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Sick Inside</title><content type='html'>I just experienced one of a parent's worst nightmares.  On a short family walk this evening, I saw Esther ride her tricycle out into a busy road as a car approached.  Susie and I both screamed her name in unison.  Fortunately, the car stopped and there was no harm done, but I still feel sick inside.  Both Susie and I tried to explain the seriousness of what had happened, because I don't think Esther gets it.  She doesn't understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love Esther dearly.  I don't think I could handle it emotionally if I lost her at this time.  I'm grateful that she is okay.  I'm not sure whether I want to hug her, throttle her, or ground her, or all three at once!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it's time for the lesson involving the milk jug filled with sand that is placed in the road for a car to run over.  Perhaps that will get the lesson through.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6266539187820218431-4025408881099709040?l=cookusnest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/feeds/4025408881099709040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6266539187820218431&amp;postID=4025408881099709040' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/4025408881099709040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/4025408881099709040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/2008/09/sick-inside.html' title='Sick Inside'/><author><name>Mark</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6266539187820218431.post-4080422164862196957</id><published>2008-09-19T20:52:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-19T21:02:22.308-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Kids</title><content type='html'>You know, sometimes I think my children get a bad rap on my blog.  And that shouldn't be.  They are very good kids.  They are also young, and are going through the process of learning and growing by making choices, both good and bad.  Not so different from me, except I have a little more experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as the old saying goes, "Good judgement comes from experience.  Experience comes from bad judgement." :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to post a few positive things after my last blog post.  First, I'd like to talk a bit about Esther.  She is loving Kindergarten.  She has made at least one friend.  Her friend's name is Hannah, and she sits in the desk next to Esther.  Although I haven't met Hannah yet, I did see her picture on the classroom door, and she looks like a character.  Esther wants to have Hannah over at some point, and I think I would like that.  It cheers my heart to see my daughter gaining social experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esther also has confidence going into school.  I originally planned to walk her to class the whole first week (I drive Esther to school because it is right on my way to work).  After the first two days, I felt prompted to ask her if she wanted me to go in with her, or if she wanted to go herself.  She indicated that she wanted to go herself.  A moment later, she said, "I can go into school myself!  I know where my class is!"  Very rewarding moment.  I am glad to see my little girl developing independence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now for Jayson.  Jayson is a very sweet and loving boy.  I took him and Esther to their dental checkup (Jayson's first, and he did spectacularly), and we went out to lunch afterwards.  As we were eating, he told me, "Daddy, you are my good friend," which is one of his favorite sayings lately (I've grown quite fond of it myself).  A moment later, he turned to Esther and said, "You are my good friend too."  He then proceeded to get off his chair and go over and give her a hug, which was returned.  I smiled widely as my heart took a picture of my oldest daughter and my son sharing a hug.  As much as they may sometimes pick at each other, I know that they love each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jayson also loves his baby sister, Lizzie.  A couple of weeks ago, while they were still sleeping in the same room (we've since moved Lizzie back in with Esther), she was fussing and crying one evening, verbally expressing her desire to not go to bed.  I was giving myself a break from Lizzie's fits.  Suddenly, I heard a voice from the room start to sing, "I Need Thee Every Hour," which is one of Lizzie's favorite hymns.  It took me just a moment to realize that it was Jayson!  My heart was touched as I realized that my son was concerned for his sister, and was trying to comfort her in the best way that he knew how.  Not bad at all for a three-year-old boy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then there is my Lizzie.  She is a passionate child in all that she does.  She brings great joy and delight into our family.  She has a wonderful impish smile that makes me wonder what trouble she is thinking of getting into next. :)  She also has a lovely singing voice, and likes to dance and spin around.  She also enjoys the game where she runs down the hall and jumps on me, "knocking me over."  Must be very empowering to my small one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lizzie is also discovering books, and she really is doing better about going to sleep at night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have three good children, and I love them very much.  No matter what their actions may be, I will always love them.  As a Daddy, I am beginning to get a slight glimpse of how Heavenly Father and Jesus must feel about me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6266539187820218431-4080422164862196957?l=cookusnest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/feeds/4080422164862196957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6266539187820218431&amp;postID=4080422164862196957' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/4080422164862196957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/4080422164862196957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/2008/09/good-kids.html' title='Good Kids'/><author><name>Mark</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6266539187820218431.post-7263232405853700484</id><published>2008-09-19T20:38:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-19T20:48:54.711-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Daddy is an ogre</title><content type='html'>Or at least I sure feel like one lately.  It seems like I am always getting on the kids about something.  Don't get me wrong.  I adore my children.  They are intelligent, fun, funny, clever, and sweet.  They are also whiny, demanding, crabby, and boundary pushers, and sometimes I want to throttle the whole lot of them!  It's &lt;strong&gt;hard&lt;/strong&gt; being the father of three children, age 5 and under.  It's really hard.  I don't think I acknowledge that fact enough.  It's hard!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So much of the time, I come home weary, and it doesn't take much from the kids to get me going.  I don't like feeling crabby towards them.  I don't like being the "executioner," as I sometimes call myself.  Sometimes it feels like all I do is lay down the law, and get the kids ready for bed.  I have memories from a few years ago when I actually played with the children more.  I read to them.  I had fun with them.  I don't have as much fun these days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things got really difficult after we had our third child.  They say that number three is the hardest one on the family, and I believe it.  I've really become worn out over the past two years, and my old coping strategies aren't working for me.  I want to reach out to the Lord more for strength, but it is really hard for me.  I'm so used to taking care of myself and doing things for myself.  I'm independent to a fault, and I've been that way for as long as I can remember.  It's hard to reach out to anyone for help and strength, even someone as wonderful as Jesus.  I'm really struggling right now, and I feel like I'm reaching the end of my rope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sitting in the computer room at Aspen Grove writing this because I've been an ogre this evening, and I want it to stop.  I want to be able to enjoy a vacation with my family.  You know, I think I'm beginning to understand why my Uncle Ralph doesn't enjoy vacations and special events very much.  Lots of work, lots of stress, lots of money, and people who whine about what they don't have instead of appreciating what they are given.  Sometimes I feel the same way toward my kids.  I'm sure that sometimes God feels that way about me.  I understand why God wants us to be grateful and thankful for the rich blessings He has given us, instead of always asking Him for more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know where this post is going.  I just needed to get the feelings out somewhere.  For those of you who may be reading this, please remember me in your prayers.  I am a firm believer in the power of prayer.  I have seen miracles happen due to the prayers of the believers.  I believe that prayer can even turn me from an ogre back into a human being.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6266539187820218431-7263232405853700484?l=cookusnest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/feeds/7263232405853700484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6266539187820218431&amp;postID=7263232405853700484' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/7263232405853700484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/7263232405853700484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/2008/09/daddy-is-ogre.html' title='Daddy is an ogre'/><author><name>Mark</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6266539187820218431.post-1111433941006016428</id><published>2008-09-01T22:13:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T22:23:22.215-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Father of a Kindergartner</title><content type='html'>Esther starts Kindergarten tomorrow.  It's hard to believe.  I have numerous feelings at this point.  First off, I'm excited for her.  This will be a good opportunity for her to learn, grow, and make new friends.  She is also excited right now, and I hope that continues.  She's got her backpack packed and ready, and she has visited the classroom twice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm also a bit amazed at how fast the time has gone.  It doesn't seem like that long since my kindergartner was a tiny little baby, who enjoyed spitting up on me regularly.  When I stop to think about it, it boggles my mind how quickly she has gone from a tiny baby to an eager kindergartner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm slightly apprehensive.  My schooling experience was not the most pleasant at times.  Not the learning so much as the social.  Esther will have some of those challenges too, but I am comforted that she has extra resources to draw on that I did not have.  I think I mentioned them in an earlier blog post, but they bear repeating.  Esther has a daddy, two siblings, and a church support network, three things that I did not have.  I know that it will make a difference.  As her teacher said, no child comes with everything.  Some parents will be working on the ABC's with their children (Esther has known them since age 2).  Others (like Susie and myself) will be working with their children socially.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm realizing that many things will be changing.  I got a taste of this when I was scheduling our Aspen Grove trip earlier this year.  I had to choose a week around the school schedule.  Things won't be quite so happy-go-lucky as they used to.  Of course, part of that is a good thing.  As I will be Esther's ride into school each morning, it will encourage me to have better sleep habits, and I will be getting into work at the same time (and earlier time) more consistently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm tired.  That is pretty much a given by this time of night. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm grateful that I have the Priesthood.  I gave Esther a "Back-to-School" blessing.  I plan on doing this for each of my children once a year.  After I finished with Esther's blessing, Jayson and Lizzie also expressed a desire for one.  Although they aren't starting school yet, they are impacted by this change (as Susie wisely pointed out), so I gave each of them a blessing as well.  I'm grateful and humbled that I can stand in Jesus' place, and attempt to do the things that He would do if He were here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm also realizing that my little girl is growing up.  I hope that I have taught her wisely and well, because she is going into a larger world, where more words and opinions will be thrown at her.  As much as I would sometimes like to be there for her all the time, I realize that I will not always be there to help her, and it is time for her to learn to stand on her own a little bit.  That is part of the growing up process.  I knew it was painful when I was going through it.  Now I can see a little bit of what it is like being on the other side, as a parent.  It is a good step, but it will change all of us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm grateful that, no matter what happens, Esther will always be my little girl.  That will never change.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6266539187820218431-1111433941006016428?l=cookusnest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/feeds/1111433941006016428/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6266539187820218431&amp;postID=1111433941006016428' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/1111433941006016428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/1111433941006016428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/2008/09/father-of-kindergartner.html' title='Father of a Kindergartner'/><author><name>Mark</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6266539187820218431.post-1386440402303817975</id><published>2008-08-31T17:03:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-31T17:16:40.389-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Fair Consequences</title><content type='html'>Jayson is my delightful son, who just turned three.  He is polite, helpful, thoughtful, and full of energy.  Earlier today, he wanted to help me empty the dishwasher.  I showed him where the various items of silverware go in the drawer, and he got most of them right.  He sometimes says very sweet things.  My recent favorite is, "Daddy, you're my good friend."  Yesterday, we went to Lowe's together to pick up a replacement spark plug for the lawn mower (which, unfortunately, is dead).  We also went to Toys R Us and played with the trains.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now lest you think I have the perfect toddler, let me assure you that I have no such delusions when it comes to my son.  He can also be crabby, stubborn, and mean to his sisters.  He's been going through a phase where he likes to push, hit, and kick.  I'm hoping it is a very short phase.  In the meantime, we have a couple of consequences set up (yes, I'm getting to the point of my post eventually, bear with me :-).  Sometimes I will sit on him, particularly if he has hit or kicked.  He really doesn't like that.  If he gets pushy, he gets sent to his room with the door shut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had an unexpected opportunity to show Jayson that consequences apply to all family members.  Just before we went to church, I called downstairs for the children to come up and put on their shoes.  In fact, I called down several times.  I was already a bit crabby, and the fact that I got no response from downstairs did little to improve my mood.  I stomped downstairs, and got there just in time to see Jayson knock Lizzie down.  I'm sad to admit it, but in my anger, I went and knocked Jayson to the floor also.  I immediately felt bad about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jayson went upstairs, crying, and told Mommy what I had done.  I came up right behind him, and admitted what I had done, and that it was wrong.  I knelt down to apologize to him, and suddenly had a flash of inspiration.  Since he usually gets sent to his room when he does that, I should get sent to my room.  So I went into the bedroom, and invited Jayson to close the door on me, which he did with some enthusiasm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A small, silly little incident?  Perhaps.  But it also teaches an important lesson.  Daddy is not exempt from the rules.  Consequences should be fair when possible, and that includes me.  It shows that the rules are important to everyone, and everyone needs to follow them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6266539187820218431-1386440402303817975?l=cookusnest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/feeds/1386440402303817975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6266539187820218431&amp;postID=1386440402303817975' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/1386440402303817975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/1386440402303817975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/2008/08/fair-consequences.html' title='Fair Consequences'/><author><name>Mark</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6266539187820218431.post-7637361741986939135</id><published>2008-08-24T09:26:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-24T10:11:04.744-06:00</updated><title type='text'>August has been better than July</title><content type='html'>Hello, all.  Gee, it's been awhile since I've written anything!  That may be good or bad depending on your point of view.  Of course, I'm not twisting anyone's arm to read this, so I won't worry. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had an enjoyable vacation earlier this month.  We went up to Aspen Grove, which is run by the BYU alumni association.  They do marriage retreats, conferences, and family camps (both full and half week).  We did a half-week family camp last year, and really enjoyed it, so we signed up for the full week experience this year.  It's really nice, because the price (which is quite reasonable, by the way) includes lodging, food, and all activities!  And there is so much stuff to do, that there isn't time to do it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course the best part from my point of view is that they have activities for every age group, and they take your children for part of the day each day. :D  I love my children very much, and I love them even more after I have had a break from them.  It's nice to do things with just Susie, and by myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of the things that I did included racquetball, archery, air rifle shooting, a Dance Dance Revolution contest, frisbee golf, shuffleboard, and taking naps.  I also had ice cream from the store for four days in a row.  Yummy!  We also took part in the family talent show on Monday night.  We did a story called "Browniecurls and the Three Lairds" (any relation to a similar story that you may have heard is purely intentional).  That one was a big hit, including our running gag about the youngest Laird ("Lizzie who was two.  Enough said.").  People commented about it to us for the rest of the week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of the things I may try in future years include the ropes course, a GPS course, a nice long hike, arts and crafts, and going to the guest lecture (none of the offerings appealed to me this time around).  Definitely an enjoyable time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sadly, we came back to the real world with a bump (literally), and at rapid speed.  As we were packing up, I took Lizzie with me to the truck with a loaded luggage cart.  After unloading it, I thought she might enjoy a ride back to the room on the cart, which she did...at first.  Unfortunately, as I was going around a corner, I heard a thump, followed by a loud scream.  Lizzie had rolled off of the cart, and landed face first on the concrete!  I also inadvertantly ran over one of her fingers with the cart!  Needless to say, I felt terrible.  We took her to the Instacare, and found out (fortunately) that the bump was not serious or concussion-inducing.  The finger, sadly, is taking longer to heal.  But she seems to be okay overall, and she has been able to express herself with the words, "Owie" and "That hurts."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, on to other topics of interest.  Esther will be starting kindergarten in a week.  She met her teacher Ms. Thompson on Friday.  The whole family went to meet her.  Esther was understandably nervous.  After all, she was in a building she'd never been in before meeting a person she'd never met before.  I figure it was much like I would feel at a job interview, except Esther's interviewer is nicer.  However, Esther warmed up to the teacher by the time she started the assessment.  Susie and I were both very impressed with the teacher.  Jayson and Lizzie enjoyed playing with the toys in the classroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esther did very well on her assessment.  I was watching a listening from a different part of the classroom whilst trying to keep my younger two from destroying the place.  Ms. Thompson asked Esther about letters, numbers, patterns, colors, and shapes.  She also had her read some short words, and asked some story comprehension questions.  The teacher confirmed what we already knew: Esther is very intelligent.  Her focus in kindergarten will be on the social aspect, moreso than the academic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, no surprise there.  The poor thing takes after her father in that regard.  If nothing else, I will be able to be compassionate and understanding as she grows up.  I know exactly what it feels like to be intellectually gifted and to struggle a bit socially.  However, Esther will have several advantages that I did not have.  This is a comfort to me.  Esther has a brother and a sister, so she has already had practice at socialization to a degree.  Esther also has a father on the earth.  My father died when I was one and a half, and I know that made a difference for me, just as I can make a difference for Esther.  Third, Esther attends church.  This gives her further opportunities for social interaction, as well as an additional support network.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although Esther will certianly have her challenges in school (don't we all?), I think she will turn out just fine.  She's a strong girl, and a very good girl as well.  I don't think she will struggle socially as much as I did.  And to paraphrase Gordon B Hinckley, when talking about one of his sons, "He has a wonderful mother.  I wish I could recommend his father to you." :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What else has been going on?  The new "Clone Wars" movie came out in theaters a week or so ago.  Although the critics panned it, I enjoyed it.  Certainly not the best Star Wars movie I've ever seen, but if you can take the show for what it is, an introduction to the upcoming TV series, it is enjoyable in its own right.  Besides, I got to see more of Count Dooku, who is one of my favorite characters (big surprise there).  In fact, I was able to troop the release with my Star Wars group (the Alpine Garrison) on Saturday, the day after we got back from Aspen Grove.  I hadn't worn my Dooku costume in some time, so it was nice to put it on again.  I had more fun at this event than I had had trooping in some time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My favorite part of the troop was at the end.  As I went out to the front of the theater for the final time, I met a young boy and his father getting tickets.  I leaned down to shake the young boy's hand.  As I did so, his father pointed out the lightsaber in my other hand.  To which the young boy replied, "Wow!  Cool!"  I saw him a moment or two later with the rest of his family.  I heard him say, "Mom, look at that guy!  Look at that guy!"  It's the moments like that where I can connect with a child that makes the trooping worthwhile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My second favorite moment of the troop was when a girl approached and solemnly informed me that I should leave the Dark Side.  Staying true to character, I thanked her for her concerned and informed her that I was happy where I was. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also had the opportunity to see some old friends briefly last weekend.  J.D. and Gina Williams are friends of mine from my days in the singles ward.  J.D. and I were roommates for a year or two.  They married, and now have four children!  They were in the area, and called me, asking if they could stop by and visit.  Although the visit was less than an hour, it was sure good to see them again.  Their children are beautiful, and quite the characters!  It's always good to see old friends again.  I've known them for a long time.  Now I just need to track down some of my other old friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that covers the main highlights of the month.  If you've made it this far in this blog post, I salute you!  Thanks for reading.  Until next time!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6266539187820218431-7637361741986939135?l=cookusnest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/feeds/7637361741986939135/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6266539187820218431&amp;postID=7637361741986939135' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/7637361741986939135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/7637361741986939135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/2008/08/august-has-been-better-than-july.html' title='August has been better than July'/><author><name>Mark</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6266539187820218431.post-5823913461888022470</id><published>2008-08-01T21:21:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-01T21:37:03.481-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Mark and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Month</title><content type='html'>I'm very glad that the month of July is over.  It has been a rotten month in many ways.  Here are some of the "highlights" of my month:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Our main server at work became unstable, and was down for most of a week.  When it was down, I was literally unable to do any work.  Now don't get me wrong, some days I don't get much work done anyway, but I at least like to have the choice!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Less than a week after our main server came back up, the people who provide the main file for our process made some upgrades to their system.  After the upgrades, the file was unavailable for almost a whole 'nother week.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;For those of you counting at home, that means almost half of the month, I was unable to do work at work.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Two of my team members left the company for other opportunities.  One of them is my former boss/team lead, who is a good friend, has been there the whole three and a half years that I have been there, and takes with him a vast amount of domain knowledge.  I'm happy for his new opportunity, but I'm still ticked that he left.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Emotional turmoil within the family.  I've had a couple of very difficult therapy sessions in July, and so has Susie.  It's part of the healing process, I know, but it still sucks.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Dental work.  During my twice-a-year checkup, the dentist found six cavities.  While filling them, he discovered two more.  Yep, eight cavities total.  And when I went in the first time, they were running late, so I got to make a return trip to get the rest of my teeth drilled on.  Oh joy of joys.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;As a possibly related side note to the last item, I am flossing more regularly now, for the first time in a long time.  Did I mention that most of the cavities were between my teeth?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Truck repairs.  The truck was due for 24,000 mile inspection, and needed a few things replaced.  It's still in very good condition, but auto repair is never inexpensive.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Car repairs.  While picking up supplies for pack meeting near the end of the month, I stopped at my last stop to the disconcerting sight of my windshield fogging up.  From the inside.  On a 100 degree day.  When I came out of the store five minutes later, I saw antifreeze pooling on both sides of my car, and a trail of antifreeze going back all the way to the parking lot entrance.  Apparently, my car decided to empty the contents of the antifreeze system on the road.  At least it was in civilization, rather than in the middle of nowhere.  I was able to limp into the repair shop, and I got out of there with my wallet mostly intact.  But I was without the car for three days, and I had to walk home from the repair shop in 100 degree weather, carrying pack meeting supplies.  At least the auto repair place is close the my house.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Car repairs - part 2.  I came out of the house a couple of mornings ago to the lovely scent of gasoline.  I looked under my car to find a small pool in the general vicinity of the gas tank.  Needless to say, the car repair guy (Paul) was surprised to see me again so soon.  And honestly, I was hoping to avoid paying a second visit to his establishment so soon after my previous visit.  So now I will be needing a new gas tank.  Again, my wallet will survive the blow, but I hope the next visit to him is none too soon.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Truck repairs - part 2.  When my wife got home from Salt Lake last ngiht, she took me out to show me where an individual had added a dent to the rear bumper of the truck.  I guess he thought that remodeling our truck would be appreciated more than paying attention to the road.  I need to give him a call, but next week would be a better time for that.  I can tell you this much.  He can pay me directly, or I &lt;strong&gt;will&lt;/strong&gt; go through his insurance.  I've had this happen twice before, and gotten stiffed both times.  I am not footing the bill this time.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Technically, this last item became apparent in August, but the cause happened in July, so I'm counting it.  This morning, the first thing I woke up to was my daughter telling me, "Daddy, Jayson threw up."  Just how I wanted to start my day.  So my morning consisted of cleaning barf off of the carpet, and watching the children so that Susie (who also paid a visit to the porcelain throne this morning) could rest.  Not exactly my idea of a three-day weekend.  And the kicker was that it was Jayson's birthday today.  It sucks to be sick on your birthday.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'm very glad that July is over.  I'm looking forward to a much better month in August.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6266539187820218431-5823913461888022470?l=cookusnest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/feeds/5823913461888022470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6266539187820218431&amp;postID=5823913461888022470' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/5823913461888022470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/5823913461888022470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/2008/08/mark-and-terrible-horrible-no-good-very.html' title='Mark and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Month'/><author><name>Mark</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6266539187820218431.post-249009376691844411</id><published>2008-07-26T21:39:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-26T21:50:41.951-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Worms World Party</title><content type='html'>I'll bet you thought this was going to be one of the zanier posts, didn't you? Well zany, yes, but not zaniest.  And it does have a point to it.  Really!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The title of this blog post refers to a series of games called "Worms." The games were created by a software company called Team17. They're over in Great Britain, which explains a lot about the game (no offense intended to any British reading this). Basically, you control a team of cute, cartoony worms that go around with bazookas, grenades, machine guns, exploding sheep, etc, trying to blow each other up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was introduced to the series many years ago, before I was married, with "Worms 2." A year or two later, I purchased "Worms Armageddon," which was the latest version (at the time). I used to play with Susie once in a while after we got married. However, we were both a bit less mature than we are now, and the games weren't particularly fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ditched the game (along with all of the rest of my collection) about five years ago in the first of my computer game purges. A few months later, I downloaded the trial version of "Worms World Party" at work. But I hadn't touched the game since then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Curiously enough, Susie was the one that suggested it. We have both had a DAY with the kids (you parents know what I mean), and a word game just wasn't going to cut it tonight. Sometimes you just need to blow things up. And what better target than cute, cartoony worms?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was able to locate the same trial version that I downloaded five years ago, and we played it tonight. And we both had a blast (pun intended)! Susie also thinks that Esther would enjoy the game. I agree. Such a game would be just her thing, especially since she seems to share a lot of my characteristics. I think Jayson would enjoy it too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Susie is on the phone right now, so I made an executive decision and purchased it. I could have gotten it straight from Team17 on CD, but the shipping was a lot. I was able to get it from an online download site for only a few dollars more, and the game will be available now (it's at 68% downloaded at the moment).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why the long ramble about a computer game? Well first, it is my blog, so I can ramble however I feel like, thank you very much. ;) Secondly, I really enjoy the game. It's amazing how fast the controls, weapons, and strategy came back to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But most importantly, the game is indicative of how much Susie and I have grown and healed, both individually and in our relationship with each other. We can play the game and enjoy both it and each other's company. We couldn't do that five years ago. It is delightful for me to see. It is also enjoyable for me to be able to share a good game with Susie. For better or worse, computer games are a part of my life, and it's nice to be able to share that portion of my life with my wife (hey, that rhymed).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm remembering that growth in emotions or in a relationship is like physical growth in a child. Although it is hard to see when you compare one day to another, it is still there. And when you look back over a longer period, the growth is easy to see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, if you'll excuse me, I need to go. A cute, cartoony worm is crawling in my direction, and I think he's holding a flamethrower.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6266539187820218431-249009376691844411?l=cookusnest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/feeds/249009376691844411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6266539187820218431&amp;postID=249009376691844411' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/249009376691844411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/249009376691844411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/2008/07/exploding-cartoon-worms.html' title='Worms World Party'/><author><name>Mark</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6266539187820218431.post-3639873886257936047</id><published>2008-07-15T13:52:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-15T14:18:42.548-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Marriage</title><content type='html'>This has to be my shortest title yet, and yet there is so much in that one single word.  I've been thinking about marriage more these days, perhaps due to attending one wedding this past Saturday, talking about parts of my own marriage with my beloved Susie, and some good friends getting engaged last night (well, actually early this morning if you want to be technical about it, which I often do :-).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most people (or at least many people) go into marriage expecting roses, romance, and bliss.  As the old joke goes, the girl about to get married joyfully exclaimed to her mother, "I'm at the end of all my troubles."  To which her mother wisely replied, "Yes, dear, but which end?"  I don't wish to focus on the fact that marriage has difficulties, troubles, and many opportunities to grow.  I think that is common knowledge (with the possible exception of some newlyweds).  I wish to focus a bit on my own feelings about marriage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This may not be the cheerful, off-the-wall, slightly sarcastic post that you are used to.  If that's what you're hoping for, you may have to wait for the next post.  It is my blog, after all. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, unlike many engaged people, I didn't come into marriage expecting happiness and bliss.  I came in expecting struggles.  In fact, I remember getting quite annoyed with the instructor in our weekly marriage preparedness class (this was back when I was engaged).  He spent so much time talking about the challenges, that I began to get frustrated.  At one point, I even raised my hand and asked about the good parts of marriage.  I suppose that his lesson had a point, as most of the other couples in the room had their head in the clouds a bit and needed to be brought a little closer to the earth.  But I really wanted to hear some more positive things, already being aware of the challenges that were coming.  Also, the instructor's voice had a tendency to jump up about 30 decibels randomly during the class.  That was annoying too.  And then there was that hideous egg timer that we got for a wedding present...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I digress.  As I have grown older, and hopefully a little wiser, I have come to a greater understanding of marriage.  The ideal marriage consists of three, not two, individuals: the husband, the wife, and the Lord.  I also believe that these three individuals can form a triangle, with the Lord at the top, and the husband and wife on the bottom corners.  As husband and wife draw closer to the Lord, they also draw closer to each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also believe that the marriage is only as strong as the weakest of its three component parts.  Now we know the Lord is never weak.  His strength is infinite and eternal.  My wife is also one of the strongest individuals I have ever met.  That doesn't make it too hard to pick our the weak link, does it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So much of my attitude toward marriage is an outgrowth of my feelings toward myself.  I have always struggled with feelings of self-worth, even from my younger years.  As I am not overly comfortable in my own presence, I struggle to even fathom that others would want to be near me, and enjoy spending time with me.  That others would consider time spent with me to be a treat, rather than a burden.  These kind of feelings do make it difficult for closeness to grow in a marriage.  Many of the attempts Susie has made to draw closer to me have been rebuffed by me, not maliciously or deliberately, but out of my own feelings of lack of worth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet I also believe that marriage can offer some of the greatest joys that life has to give.  To have another individual to walk life's journey next to me.  To have someone to talk to and to listen to, to learn and laugh and love and work and play together.  Someone to cheer for me when I am down, and I able to do the same for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yet, none of it comes without work.  There is never a lack of work to do in a marriage or a home, especially a home with small children.  And yet, there is joy to be found in the day to day things, if one is only open to finding it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The scary thing about become close in marriage is opening oneself more deeply to another.  This is especially hard when one is not very comfortable with oneself.  One who has been rejected many times often blocks off further closeness to protect oneself.  And yet, is the enforced closeness, the walls so high and door so thick, is that any way to live?  Is that any way for my wife to live?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have seen much growth and progress in my personal life over the last 6+ years since I was married.  I am blessed to have a wonderful and supportive wife, who would show me love so greatly if I were but to allow her to do so more often.  It is good to be married.  I certainly would never choose to return to the single life (especially single life with roommates.  I got my share of the weird ones there close to the end).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yet, I feel a yearning to be a better husband to my beloved wife.  It feels like so much of it rests on me and my healing and progress.  And it feels like I have such a long way to go.  But when you get right down to it, what on this earth is more important than family?  And who in the family is more important than your spouse?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6266539187820218431-3639873886257936047?l=cookusnest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/feeds/3639873886257936047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6266539187820218431&amp;postID=3639873886257936047' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/3639873886257936047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/3639873886257936047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/2008/07/marriage.html' title='Marriage'/><author><name>Mark</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6266539187820218431.post-2699645485287071753</id><published>2008-07-13T19:50:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-13T20:07:36.829-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Thoughts</title><content type='html'>Quite a bit has happened this last two weeks, so this may come across as an information dump.  If so, feel free to skip this entry. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;A good friend of the family got sealed yesterday in the Mt. Timpanogos Temple.  Susie and I were able to attend.  It has been quite some time since I've attended a live sealing, since most of my friends got married years ago.  It was good to watch and remember.  Also, I felt honored to attend, as most of the guests were immediate family.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I was one of the first three people in the sealing room (Susie was going through the endowment session with April at the time).  I had the opportunity to just sit back, look around, and admire the craftsmanship in the temple.  The work inside is exquisite.  The attention to detail is everywhere.  From the crown molding to the altar to the chandelier, all is beautiful and fine.  Truly, it is the House of the Lord.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The Mt. Timpanogos temple is also unique in its large stained glass windows.  One of the windows is visible in the stairwell that I took to and from the sealing room.  The windows are absolutely gorgeous, and I was grateful for the opportunity to view them at close range.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Esther is starting to get her permanent teeth.  A couple of weeks ago, she lost one of her bottom center teeth while Susie and I were out on a date.  The other one fell out later that same night.  Needless to say, the tooth fairy paid Esther a visit, and gave her two quarters (or as Esther calls them, "The Master of the Bird").  A few days later, I noticed a white spot protruding from her gums on the bottom, the sure sign of a permanent tooth.  While I'm glad my little girl is growing up, the poor thing is sure to need some orthodontics when she gets older.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Jayson is slowly coming out of his terrible twos.  He can be reasoned with now (sometimes), which is nice.  Sometimes I'll explain a situation to him, and he'll respond with, "Okay."  He has also become verbally affectionate over the past few weeks.  My favorite is, "I love you, Daddy.  I'm so glad you're here."  And a close second is, "You're the best Daddy ever!"  I know I'm not the best Daddy ever (that would be Heavenly Father), but I'm glad my son loves me.  He also loves his sisters.  Today, just the two of us went to church, as the girls had the sniffles.  As we started to back out of the driveway, Lizzie came to the gate and started howling, as we were leaving without her.  Jayson said, "Poor Lizzie Boo."  Very compassionate from a boy who's not quite three.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Lizzie is certainly our most passionate child.  She is the happiest, and also the crabbiest of the three, sometimes within seconds of each other.  She is doing much better at repeating words, and her vocabulary is exploding.  Yesterday, I was pointing at parts of her body and saying the name.  She would then point at the same part and repeat the name.  I had fun going through all of the different major parts (nose, ear, eye, mouth, hand, fingers, leg, knee, toes, foot, tummy, chest), but my favorite to hear her repeat was "butt."&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Grandma came down over the weekend.  She watched our little ones while Susie and I went to the wedding.  She also had Esther up to her house for a couple of days, which Esther loves.  I'm glad that my children are getting to know their Grandma Chris (or as Esther calls her, "My own own Grandma").  Some of my fondest childhood memories are time spend with my grandparents.  Particularly my Grandpa Bair.  I miss him.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Susie continues to be the wife and the mommy, and does an excellent job at both.  I really marvel that she is able to do all that she does.  She is an amazing woman.  I count myself blessed to be married to her.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Work has been interesting.  My boss is leaving in two weeks for another company.  He found out about this just before leaving for a two week vacation, and was asked not to mention it to us.  Problem is, someone in HR didn't get the memo, so the word got leaked to us a week and a half ago.  It will be interesting to see how things change when we get a new boss.  There's also been some talk about moving the office up to south Salt Lake area, although I can't for the life of me see a decent reason why.  This is eerily similar to what happened to me at Waterford.  I'm not jumping ship at this point, but I am definitely keeping my eyes open.  With my skill set, I won't have difficulty getting another job, should I desire to do so.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;No change on any of my hobbies, although I did visit a local magic store (up in Draper) and browse the wares.  I definitely want to expand my repertoire of tricks.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Nothing else too exciting to report, so I will call it a post.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;It's a post! ;)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6266539187820218431-2699645485287071753?l=cookusnest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/feeds/2699645485287071753/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6266539187820218431&amp;postID=2699645485287071753' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/2699645485287071753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/2699645485287071753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/2008/07/random-thoughts.html' title='Random Thoughts'/><author><name>Mark</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6266539187820218431.post-6236980951124508956</id><published>2008-06-30T16:09:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-30T16:11:42.091-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Hobbies Revisited</title><content type='html'>Well, having had some time to ponder, I've managed to whittle my hobby list down to a more reasonable size.  I've dropped it down to four, with two main ones that I am going to emphasize (for the time being).  The lucky winners are magic and writing.  The other two are racquetball (which I still plan on playing weekly.  It's my token exercise, after all!) and costuming (this one has been ongoing for several years), in that order.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's nice to finally whittle things down to something possible.  Sometimes I bite off more than I can chew, and end up doing nothing.  Now for my next goal, code named "Get-to-bed-at-a-reasonable-hour."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6266539187820218431-6236980951124508956?l=cookusnest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/feeds/6236980951124508956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6266539187820218431&amp;postID=6236980951124508956' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/6236980951124508956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/6236980951124508956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/2008/06/hobbies-revisited.html' title='Hobbies Revisited'/><author><name>Mark</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6266539187820218431.post-2844962105171217101</id><published>2008-06-29T21:00:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-29T21:21:11.364-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Joy in the Simple Things</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/SGhQsSeUjxI/AAAAAAAAAB4/Ayga_oQtNQs/s1600-h/DSC00511.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217508890112200466" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/SGhQsSeUjxI/AAAAAAAAAB4/Ayga_oQtNQs/s320/DSC00511.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; You can learn a lot from children. Take my youngest daughter Lizzie, for example. I can think of four times today where she took joy from the simplest things: &lt;div&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Joy of Balloons&lt;/em&gt;. The kids dug up an old Brick Oven balloon from who knows where in the house. I'm surprised the thing still had any air in it at all, since we last went to Brick Oven about a month ago. Lizzie was dragging the tiny balloon all over the upstairs by the string, laughing hysterically the whole time. All of this from a pathetic looking balloon and a length of string. Alas, the balloon was popped when we got home from church.  Fortunately, we were able to save the string.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Joy of the Frog&lt;/em&gt;. Lizzie has a small stuffed frog. It's the kind with the sound chip inside. When you squeeze the frog's front and back, it croaks several times. After breakfast, I was playing with Lizzie by moving the frog back and forth in my hand in time to the croaking while she tried to grab it. She thought that was very funny. After the croaking stopped, she picked up the frog and threw it back into my lap so that I could play the game again. I also tried moving the frog up and down, but it apparently doesn't have the same humor value as back and forth.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Joy of Pushing Daddy Over&lt;/em&gt;. I've started a new game with Lizzie, almost by accident. The other day, I was standing next to our Love Sac (think gigantic beanbag). Lizzie came running up to me and ran into my legs. I proceeded to "fall" back into the Love Sac. She laughed and thought that was a great game. She also thought that we should immediately play it several more times. I guess it is empowering for her, and payback for the times that I pick her up and put her into her crib for bed when she doesn't want to go to sleep.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Joy of Jumping on Daddy's Back While He is Lying Down&lt;/em&gt;. I don't really need to explain this one, do I? I think the title says it all. :)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;Of course these are just four examples I thought of quickly off the top of my head for one day. I could come up with others, such as the &lt;em&gt;Joy of Playing Outside Without Shoes&lt;/em&gt;, or the &lt;em&gt;Joy of Eating Watermelon in the Living Room Even Though She Knows Better and Has Been Asked to Take it to the Kitchen Several Times&lt;/em&gt;. But I think the examples I have already shared are enough to show my point; Little children take great joy in the little things.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Perhaps this is part of the reason that we have children. As I watch my young daughter explore and discover, I can remember to look for joy in the simple things of life too.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6266539187820218431-2844962105171217101?l=cookusnest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/feeds/2844962105171217101/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6266539187820218431&amp;postID=2844962105171217101' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/2844962105171217101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/2844962105171217101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/2008/06/joy-in-simple-things.html' title='Joy in the Simple Things'/><author><name>Mark</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/SGhQsSeUjxI/AAAAAAAAAB4/Ayga_oQtNQs/s72-c/DSC00511.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6266539187820218431.post-27758957408812977</id><published>2008-06-25T12:51:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-25T12:55:06.998-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Too Many Hobbies?</title><content type='html'>That's the question I've been asking myself over the past month or so. I don't have a ton of spare time, and there are lots of things I would like to try. I dabble in a few hobbies currently. I am neither fabulous nor terrible at any of them. My current, past, and future interests include reading, racquetball, magic (performance), computer games, writing, sketching, doing home improvements, sewing, costuming...and the list goes on and on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've read in a couple of places that it is helpful to pick one or two things that bring enjoyment and focus on those. But which ones to pick? Which ones to pick up from the past, or leave there? Which ones to drop?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's all quite muddled in my head. So if this post is muddled, I'm not a bit surprised.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6266539187820218431-27758957408812977?l=cookusnest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/feeds/27758957408812977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6266539187820218431&amp;postID=27758957408812977' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/27758957408812977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/27758957408812977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/2008/06/too-many-hobbies.html' title='Too Many Hobbies?'/><author><name>Mark</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6266539187820218431.post-1085581000233633836</id><published>2008-06-18T11:32:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-18T11:44:29.532-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Do You Want Your Palm Red - Part 2</title><content type='html'>I know what you're thinking, if you are a regular visitor to my blog.  You're thinking, "Oh no, the kids got into the model paints downstairs again, and Mark is going for the duct tape."  No, not this time.  In fact, that shouldn't even be possible, because I tossed the model paints in the garbage can after the last incident.  No, today was a little bit more disconcerting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esther likes to come out and sleep with me in the middle of the night.  When I woke up this morning, Susie was feeding the younger two breakfast, and Esther was asleep on my lap, with her face turned away from me.  My stomach eventually informed me that it would like breakfast, so I moved Esther to a different part of the chair and got up.  This was enough to wake her, and she sat up and looked at me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I looked at Esther, I noticed that there were red streaks all over her face, and up into her hair.  And this time it wasn't paint!  But she didn't appear to be in pain.  In particular, there was no weeping, wailing, or screaming at the top of her lungs, as would be typical of an Esther-in-pain situation.  So the Spirit helped me to keep my head, and I asked Esther how she was feeling.  Her answer: "Hungry."  As she approached me, I noticed larger portions of dried blood around her nose and the top of her head where her hair parts.  So I gently led her to the bathroom to get cleaned up and to see if there were any injuries that turned up during the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fortunately, there was no major harm done.  Turns out that Esther had a nosebleed in the middle of the night (I understand that those can be common in small children from time to time).  She confirmed this by describing that "blood came out of the holes in my nose" :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I presume she must have fallen asleep in such a position that the nosebleed went from her nose to the top of her head, hence the large amount of dried blood up there.  I gently cleaned off her face with a washcloth, and then tossed her (not literally) into the tub to clean up her hair.  Although the amount of blood was small, it takes a surprising amount of time to clean it out of hair!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to clear the water out of the tub and re-run it a couple of times.  This resulted in Lizzie banging on the door and saying something in her toddler speak, as if to ask why I was running water in the bathtub without inviting &lt;strong&gt;her&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In any case, I am grateful that no harm came to my daughter.  It was definitely not the way I would have chosen to start my day, but I am grateful that she wasn't seriously injured.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6266539187820218431-1085581000233633836?l=cookusnest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/feeds/1085581000233633836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6266539187820218431&amp;postID=1085581000233633836' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/1085581000233633836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/1085581000233633836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/2008/06/do-you-want-your-palm-red-part-2.html' title='Do You Want Your Palm Red - Part 2'/><author><name>Mark</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6266539187820218431.post-766283103232004471</id><published>2008-06-15T22:07:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-15T22:11:29.969-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Father's Day</title><content type='html'>This will be a short post because it's late, and I'm trying to overcome a cold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm grateful for the opportunity to be a father.  I'm thankful for the three small children that call me "Daddy," and delight my eyes with their antics.  I thankful for the things that they teach me, as well as the things that I teach them.  I'm thankful for my loving wife Susie, without whom I would not be a father, and who underwent three C-sections to bring our children into the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm grateful for my own father.  Although I don't remember him (he died when I was 18 months old), I would not be here if it were not for him and my mother.  I'm grateful for my Grandpa Bair, who was like a father to me while I was growing up, and taught me some very important life lessons that I still cherish today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Above all, I am thankful for my Heavenly Father and my Savior Jesus Christ, who represent the epitomy and perfect example of Fatherhood.  I am striving to be like them in my own fatherhood, and while I fall pitifully short (as my children would likely tell you ;-), I know that Jesus can make up for where I lack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And a big Happy Father's Day to all of the other great dads out there!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6266539187820218431-766283103232004471?l=cookusnest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/feeds/766283103232004471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6266539187820218431&amp;postID=766283103232004471' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/766283103232004471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/766283103232004471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/2008/06/happy-fathers-day.html' title='Happy Father&apos;s Day'/><author><name>Mark</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6266539187820218431.post-9102357045452511396</id><published>2008-06-08T21:06:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-08T21:19:08.916-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Do You Want Your Palm Red?</title><content type='html'>Or pajamas, in this case.  But I get ahead of myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday morning had a very interesting start.  The kids were up bright and early, and I was getting some extra sleep in the living room.  I could hear them playing downstairs.  They have a playroom downstairs, opposite from a storage room that they are not supposed to play in.  They have been very good to keep out of there, execpt for the day before, when they had been chased out.  I assumed that they were playing nicely in their playroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can already see where this is going, can't you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I start to make the journey back from nap time to coherence.  I see Lizzie come into the room.  She has a spot of something by her lips.  I squint at her with my glasses-less vision in the pre-dawn darkness of the room and say, "Have you been eating blueberries or something?"  She toddles off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A minute later, I hear Jayson coming up the stairs, whining about something that Esther has done.  Not screaming bloody murder, but not happy either.  As he comes in the room, the first thing I see is big red spots on his pajamas.  Instantly, I am awake, thinking he has blood all over him.  But he's not screaming.  I take a close look, and realize that it is not blood, but paint.  Model paint.  The only model paint in the house that I am aware of is in the downstairs storage room.  The room where the children are not supposed to play.  The room they got caught in and evicted from the previous day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instantly, I know a little girl that is in big trouble.  I call Esther upstairs, and as I come to the top of the stairs, I see her come out of the forbidden room, paint on both hands.  I haven't been this angry since she was little and was whacking her baby brother with her hands.  I yell loudly and send her, crying, to her room.  I go downstairs to check out the damages.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It looks worse than it is.  Several things have paint on them, including a photo frame that we have never used (it is covered in yellow model paint) and a number of papers destined for the filing cabinet (fortunately nothing critical).  The carpet has paint in a number of spots.  Fortunately, this carpet was probably old in the 70's, so if there's a spot they have to paint, that is the one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I go back upstairs and retrieve Esther from her room.  As I sit her down in my lap, I only want to know one thing.  Why did she go into the room and play with things she knows she's not supposed to play with?  She answers with her typical "I don't know."  I inform her that that is not an acceptable answer this time and repeat the question.  She says that she just wanted to paint a picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I take the opportunity to explain that there are differences between Daddy's model paints and the paints that she uses.  I also remind her that there are other things in the storage room that could hurt her or her siblings (fortunately, the model paint I have is non-toxic).  I remind her that as the oldest, the other two will follow her example.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And finally and most importantly, I reminder her that I love her and always will, no matter what her choices are.  I may not always agree with, accept, or love her choices, but nothing will ever change my love for her (or for her siblings or mother, for that matter).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I reflect back now several days later, things could have been a lot worse.  Next to the model paint jars was a jar of plastic welder (which is most definitely NOT non-toxic).  That stuff is bad news.  Fortunately, it was untouched by the kids.  The carpet is the oldest in the house.  Jayson's pajamas were a bit small anyway, and were due to go in the trash before they got painted.  And most of the non-toxic model paint came off that same day, either with rubbing alcohol, or in a good, hot bath later that night.  The only remnants of the children's experiments are a little bit of paint on fingernails, on the carpet downstairs, and on a handful of non-cricial papers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was one of my first experiences of the sort that every parent goes through.  Sometimes children have to make mistakes in order to learn and grow.  And it helps the parents to grow as well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6266539187820218431-9102357045452511396?l=cookusnest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/feeds/9102357045452511396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6266539187820218431&amp;postID=9102357045452511396' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/9102357045452511396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/9102357045452511396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/2008/06/do-you-want-your-palm-red.html' title='Do You Want Your Palm Red?'/><author><name>Mark</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6266539187820218431.post-4916174068509856470</id><published>2008-06-01T19:34:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-01T19:45:53.401-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Survival of the Fattest</title><content type='html'>Yes, I've put on some weight.  At the moment, it's the main "vice" I allow myself.  I've been on again-off again with computer games for several years now.  I don't &lt;strong&gt;need&lt;/strong&gt; to play computer games.  However, I do need to eat.  Just not as much as I have been.  I've been tipping the scales further and further over the past two years.  I'm ready to lose weight.  For that matter, so are my knees.  They don't seem to appreciate the extra weight.  Something that helped me to put it into perspective was when I carried my son up the stairs the other night.  It was much easier to go up the stairs without him, obviously.  If I got down to a healthier weight, it would be the equivalent of walking up the stairs without my son.  It really gets me to thinking.  Sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The main exercise I am doing is racquetball once a week.  Not a lot, I know, but it beats racquetball zero times a week.  I'm looking into a new racquet, as I damaged the frame three months ago, and a string finally went on it last week.  Fortunately, there is a place online that sells them (got my current one from them, as a matter of a fact).  And some new racquetball gloves too, as I tore through both of mine in one week a while back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More changes coming up.  My oldest is finally going to make the switch to underwear.  She's been doing the pullup thing for awhile, and just can't be bothered to use the potty, especially with so many other things going on.  But the time is right.  It will be nice to have the pullups out of the monthly budget.  It will also be good for Esther, as it would really be good for her to be fully trained before going to Kindergarten this fall.  My memories of elementary school are not pleasant ones.  Kids can be brutal if they find something to pick on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, enough of the negatives.  Let's find some funny stories to tell as well.  We were looking at pictures and videos from our digital camera this evening.  We pulled up one of my youngest wearing a sombrero.  When she saw the picture, she smiled and said, "Hat!"  She is a sweetie, and very angelic (especially when she is sleeping).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My son is funny to listen to as well.  He likes to repeat things he's heard in some of the videos and shows that he watches.  His current favorites are, "Oh, my cabbages!  You're going to pay for this!" and "Can't...hold...on...much...longer!"  If I start saying the second one, he gets a small smile on his face (it reminds me a lot of his great-grandpa Bear) and then joins in with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esther is reading more and more.  It's sure exciting and rewarding for me to see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes, I had another opportunity to perform my magic act this past week.  On Memorial Day, we went up to a friend's house.  Several family members were there, and a lot of kids!  The younger kids really enjoyed it, as did many of the adults.  There was one teenager in the group that was a bit of a cynic.  She couldn't figure out how the last trick was done, and challenged and questioned me on it.  I claimed that it was magic.  She said that she didn't believe in magic, which I found a bit sad.  Magic is everywhere, if you know where to look for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The true magic in life doesn't come from simple tricks and sleight-of-hand.  It comes from the joys, pleasures, goodness, and beauty that God has created for us to enjoy.  The mountains, the trees, the plants and animals, and most importantly, us, His greatest creations.  That is where the true magic comes from.  It is a gift from Jesus.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6266539187820218431-4916174068509856470?l=cookusnest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/feeds/4916174068509856470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6266539187820218431&amp;postID=4916174068509856470' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/4916174068509856470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/4916174068509856470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/2008/06/survival-of-fattest.html' title='Survival of the Fattest'/><author><name>Mark</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6266539187820218431.post-2105754050638854207</id><published>2008-05-25T20:05:00.013-06:00</published><updated>2008-05-25T20:33:50.768-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Reading and Counting with Esther</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/SDohN_rXfUI/AAAAAAAAAA8/8LH8SMflrTc/s1600-h/DSC00415.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204508843695373634" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/SDohN_rXfUI/AAAAAAAAAA8/8LH8SMflrTc/s200/DSC00415.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/SDogGPrXfTI/AAAAAAAAAA0/SlPIsGwoFHo/s1600-h/DSC00415.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This post is my opportunity to boast a bit about my oldest daughter, Esther. She will be five in a couple of months, and she is a highly intelligent girl. I suppose that most fathers feel that way toward their daughters, but I have some proof to back it up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esther is starting to learn to read now. There are several streets signs that she knows the words for (her current favorite is "No parking at any time"). She is also able to pick out short words with a high degree of accuracy when we are reading books together. Her Mom has been helping her to sound out words, which is fun to see. The kicker for me was yesterday when she was reading the back cover of our Disneyland guide book. When she got to the bottom sentence, she slightly mispronounced the first two words, but the other six were spot on. And I don't think anyone has ever read the back cover to her before!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is very exciting for me to see my "little girl" beginning to read on her own. I have always loved books. They open up whole worlds of learning, growth, understanding, adventure and imagination. It is a delight for me to see my child taking large steps into those worlds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esther is also doing exceptionally well with her numbers. Yesterday in the car, I heard her counting by tens up to one hundred. I mentioned that to her this evening while spending some one-on-one time with her. She didn't understand the concept of counting by tens, but she did proceed to count from 1 to 100 by ones! At this rate, she's going to blow away kindergarten in the fall. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm also grateful for other strengths about Esther outside of her intelligence. She is developing faith and testimony. We sounded out some words on a take-home item from church. The words are "We were created in Heavenly Father's image." It was a good opportunity for me to explain that Heavenly Father created us in His image, which means that we look like Him. If He were to appear, he would have eyes and ears and nose and tummy and arms and legs, just like us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm also grateful for the times that she is good to her brother and sister. Although they do have their moments (lots of them, in fact), I can tell that they love each other. On her way to bed, she stopped to put a stuffed toy into her little sister's crib (said little sister was quite unhappy about being put to bed earlier this evening, and proceeded to empty the contents of her crib onto the floor in protest). I was touched by this simple gesture, knowing that Esther truly cared about her little sister, and wanted to be sure that she had a stuffed toy to cuddle with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My other kids are amazing too, but I will post about them another day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6266539187820218431-2105754050638854207?l=cookusnest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/feeds/2105754050638854207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6266539187820218431&amp;postID=2105754050638854207' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/2105754050638854207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/2105754050638854207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/2008/05/reading-and-counting-with-esther.html' title='Reading and Counting with Esther'/><author><name>Mark</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/SDohN_rXfUI/AAAAAAAAAA8/8LH8SMflrTc/s72-c/DSC00415.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6266539187820218431.post-1800367517658845599</id><published>2008-05-18T19:25:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-05-18T19:36:00.184-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Throwing Rocks in the River</title><content type='html'>That was my son's favorite part about our recent outing this weekend. Every May, our church has a "Fathers and Sons" outing, where we go camping, talk about the Priesthood, eat good food, and generally have an enjoyable time together. I enjoy the chance to spend some time with my brethren and friends, and also my son. This is the third year I've taken him, and he really seemed to enjoy himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The outing is an overnighter. We drove up, stopping to pick up some hot dogs and french fries on the way (I'm not quite ready yet to cook at the place. It's easier to let someone else do it for now). We got there and had our dinner. . .well, at least I did. My son's way of eating his hot dog was to take one bite out of the bun, and then run off to explore and play for awhile. That was no problem, as it gave me time to eat in peace, chat a bit, and put up our tent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The campsite was up Hobble Creek Canyon, at Balsam Campground. The group camping area is very close to a small stream, which Jayson loved. We walked down the path a short ways to a bridge. He eagerly crossed the bridge, and found some rocks to throw in the river.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later in the evening, we were able to have some S'mores prior to the evening program. A couple of the brethren had brought enough to share. Jayson was mainly interested in the marshmallows and graham crackers. I was able to cook a nearly perfect marshmallow. I almost lost it in the flames due to its softness, and it did squish out all four sides when I put it between the graham crackers, but alas, it wasn't quite golden brown enough. What can I say? When it comes to S'mores, I'm a perfectionist. But it's the closest to a perfect marshmallow that I've had in a long time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jayson got to stay up well past his bedtime, but he still wasn't too thrilled about going to sleep. I finally calmed him down by laying down and resting him on my chest. He's big enough that I won't be able to do that much longer. It was also a good reminder that my big son is still a very little boy, not even three years old yet (although he's getting close). He slept like a rock after that. I didn't sleep as well, but at least I didn't sleep &lt;strong&gt;on&lt;/strong&gt; any rocks. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we got up the next morning, Brother Swenson was already there preparing breakfast for everyone. Jayson and I both enjoyed the pancakes. We went and threw rocks in the river again for a little while before I took down the tent and prepared to go home. Jayson was a good little helper. When, I took the sleeping bags up to the car, he came behind me, carrying one of the pillows. Unfortunately, the pants I brought for him are still a little bit too big for him (and I don't say that very often when it comes to his clothes!). They came loose halfway across the parking lot. As I was putting the sleeping bags in the trunk, I heard Jayson say, "Daddy, my pants!" I turned around to see him holding the pillow with both hands, and with his pants down to his knees, exposing his diaper. Once I was through chuckling, I helped him with his pants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm glad that I have the opportunity once a year to share this special time with my son. It also gives my wife and my girls a chance to spend a special "girl's night" with Grandma Chris, which I know they look forward to.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6266539187820218431-1800367517658845599?l=cookusnest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/feeds/1800367517658845599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6266539187820218431&amp;postID=1800367517658845599' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/1800367517658845599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/1800367517658845599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/2008/05/throwing-rocks-in-river.html' title='Throwing Rocks in the River'/><author><name>Mark</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6266539187820218431.post-4237981015071960346</id><published>2008-05-04T19:19:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-05-04T19:26:12.300-06:00</updated><title type='text'>"Daddy Sunday"</title><content type='html'>In my church, we dedicate the first Sunday of each month as a special day for fasting and prayer, as well as giving what we would have spent on food to the poor.  In a recent article in a church magazine, I learned about the idea of a "Daddy Sunday."  Basically, each fast Sunday is an opportunity to have a personal interview with each of my children, talk to them, listen to anything they want to talk about, play with them, and have a prayer with them.  When I read the article, I felt the inspiration of the Spirit that this was a good thing for me to do with my own children, and get the habit started while they are still young.  So I tried it today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not a whole lot of talking went on.  My oldest wanted to play with a phonics book that we have, so we went over a number of the words in there.  It's amazing how well she is learning to read.  She will be well prepared for kindergarten in the fall.  My son chose to play Candyland with me.  We didn't exactly play by the rules, but it doesn't matter, because we had fun.  My youngest (almost 20 months now) didn't have much to say, but did enjoy playing with a large sombrero that we have around the house.  I put it on my head, and then she came and took it off and put it onto her head.  When she came to get it, she said, "Hat!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really enjoyed the experience.  It's nice to have a dedicated time when I can spend one-on-one time with my children, and teach them things as directed by the Holy Spirit.  Hopefully they will learn that they can talk with Daddy about anything.  Although this may not be super-critical now, it may well be when they get older.  I love my children, and I want to be there for them as much as I am able.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One other unrelated event.  My son has a very good aim with balls, fortunately.  He finished dinner before the rest of us and got down.  Unbeknownst to anyone else, he picked up one of the super-bouncy balls that we have around the house.  I was calmly eating my dinner when I heard the ball bounce on the floor.  As I turned to look, I saw the ball arc across the entire dinner table and land on the far side on the kitchen floor.  I am glad that he threw it hard enough to clear the table, rather than landing in the dish of baked beans in the middle.  That would have been a mess.  Although I am pleased with his growing sporting skills, I firmly requested that he never repeat the stunt.  There is a time and place for that sort of thing, and the dinner table is neither the time nor the place!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6266539187820218431-4237981015071960346?l=cookusnest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/feeds/4237981015071960346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6266539187820218431&amp;postID=4237981015071960346' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/4237981015071960346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/4237981015071960346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/2008/05/daddy-sunday.html' title='&quot;Daddy Sunday&quot;'/><author><name>Mark</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6266539187820218431.post-273028389978889847</id><published>2008-04-29T23:15:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T23:22:46.686-06:00</updated><title type='text'>You Can Do Magic</title><content type='html'>Well, tonight was pack meeting.  I didn't get a lot of time to prepare or practice magic beforehand (the last week has been insanely busy), but things went well.  I had to drop one of my originally planned five tricks due to a prop malfunction this morning, but I still had four in my bag of tricks (okay, so it was my backpack, close enough).  I slipped up a bit on two of the tricks, but the other two went off without a hitch.  The last one had several people in the audience (including grown-ups) mystified as to how I did it.  It's magic, of course!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My wife also came to pack meeting to support me in my first-ever magic show.  It really meant a lot to me that she came.  I appreciated it greatly.  It was also nice to see my youngest roaming the halls and aisles.  I regularly bring my oldest two with me to pack meeting as my "helpers" (as well as to give their mother a break), but the youngest rarely comes.  She came toddling up to me, pointed at the cheap top hat I was wearing as part of my magician costume, and said, "Hat!"  Of course, I've been saying the same thing to her for months every time I put a hat on her head. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I actually enjoyed myself while I was doing my short show at pack meeting.  It was a nice way to start out: 4 tricks, a small audience, and inexpensive props, mostly things I could find around the house.  Not bad for an amateur magician just starting out!  It was also very rewarding to try something new and find that I am pretty good at it!  Although my sleight-of-hand needs some work, my patter was very good.  Magic seems like a very good fit for my personality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I definitely don't plan on this being my last magic show!  Now I just need to make some time to learn and practice some more tricks.  Although four tricks was about right for pack meeting, I'd like to have a bit more to work with for my next show.  When will my next show be?  Well, I don't know.  Sometime. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6266539187820218431-273028389978889847?l=cookusnest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/feeds/273028389978889847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6266539187820218431&amp;postID=273028389978889847' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/273028389978889847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/273028389978889847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/2008/04/you-can-do-magic.html' title='You Can Do Magic'/><author><name>Mark</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6266539187820218431.post-7561542056513938560</id><published>2008-04-25T16:48:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-04-25T16:56:03.411-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Sorcerer's Apprentice</title><content type='html'>I have always enjoyed magic shows. I loved them as a kid, and I still love them as a grown-up. They help me to remember my childhood sense of wonder and amazement, when it seemed like magic was everywhere in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have had a passing interest in learning magic, even to the point of purchasing a couple of books, but I have never taken it any further than that. Until now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See, I am the Cubmaster for the Scout troop of my church group, and this month's theme is "Abracadabra". Pack meeting is coming up on Tuesday, and I would like very much to be able to perform some simple tricks for the boys and their families. Basically, this feels like a good excuse for me to do something that I have wanted to do for some time, but have never quite gotten around to doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used a good portion of my lunch hour yesterday obtaining some items that I will need for my performance. I will also be able to find many of the items around the house. Honestly, I was amazed at the number of items I will need for just five simple tricks. I have a feeling that this is going to be another one of those not-so-inexpensive hobbies (like my costuming hobby, but more on that another time).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I just need to find some time to practice. Ah yes, the trickiest part. Actually trying something new, with the possibility that I will fail the first few times. Scary stuff. But rewarding, nonetheless. Life is about trying new things and yes, making mistakes and learning from them. Perhaps that is the greatest magic of all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And even if my magic performance fails miserably, there is one magic trick that I know I can do for sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can help make the refreshments disappear!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6266539187820218431-7561542056513938560?l=cookusnest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/feeds/7561542056513938560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6266539187820218431&amp;postID=7561542056513938560' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/7561542056513938560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/7561542056513938560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/2008/04/sorcerers-apprentice.html' title='The Sorcerer&apos;s Apprentice'/><author><name>Mark</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6266539187820218431.post-5130973897379020104</id><published>2008-04-20T20:51:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-04-20T21:06:37.873-06:00</updated><title type='text'>It's a Small World After All</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/SAwCPV9BWGI/AAAAAAAAAAM/OXVEHDrFwjo/s1600-h/Buzz6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/SAwCPV9BWGI/AAAAAAAAAAM/OXVEHDrFwjo/s320/Buzz6.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191526933065717858" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although ironically, that was the only ride that was closed when we went to Disneyland last week.  They're doing an extensive remodel this year.  I was concerned that my son would be disconsolate (since "Boat Ride" was his favorite on our last trip to Mickey Mouse country).  Fortunately, he found a new favorite ride in Buzz Lightyear's Astro Blasters.  We must have gone on the ride at least 10 times.  My oldest daughter liked it too.  The youngest didn't seem to have an opinion one way or the other.  In fact, my son was still talking about the ride today (specifically, that he wanted to go on it again).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was an interesting trip in many ways.  I really enjoyed the first two days (the second day was my wife's birthday).  The third day was awful.  The fourth day was a little bit better, but still kind of blah.  The fifth day, I recovered a bit.  The sixth day, we came home.  I can tell that I'm getting older.  This is the first time that I've ever been glad to come home from Disneyland.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was younger, I would go to Disneyland with my mother from time to time.  I always wondered why she would often sit and "people watch" while I went on the rides.  Now that I am getting into my 30's, I am beginning to understand.  To quote the immortal Indiana Jones, "It's not the years.  It's the mileage."  I was pretty wiped out a couple of days, while the kids were still raring to go.  Of course, the extra poundage I'm carrying around these days doesn't help any.  I really need to get on the weight loss program, and work off some of that delicious, hi-fat, low-nutrition food that I ate on vacation. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and we got to go on one more "ride" on the way back on Saturday.  Descending into the airport, we hit a patch of turbulence.  Airplane travel doesn't usually bother me, but my stomach ended up partway up my throat, while my head was down where my stomach usually is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, all in all, a good vacation.  I am looking forward to going back to work tomorrow and sift through the mountain of email that will be waiting for me.  I'm thinking we might even go back to Disneyland when the kids are of a more appropriate age.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Early 2012, perhaps.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6266539187820218431-5130973897379020104?l=cookusnest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/feeds/5130973897379020104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6266539187820218431&amp;postID=5130973897379020104' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/5130973897379020104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/5130973897379020104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/2008/04/its-small-world-after-all.html' title='It&apos;s a Small World After All'/><author><name>Mark</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XP6Kmd7gyok/SAwCPV9BWGI/AAAAAAAAAAM/OXVEHDrFwjo/s72-c/Buzz6.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6266539187820218431.post-3570138868693530636</id><published>2008-04-13T21:22:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-04-13T21:48:29.810-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A Daddy's Reward Moment</title><content type='html'>As those of you who are parents know, it can be the toughest job you'll ever love. There is much of frustration, irritation, tiredness, and endless demands. But there are also those handful of moments that make it all worth it. I had one of those moments tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had just finished putting my two girls (ages 4 1/2 and 19 months) down for the night, and snuggling them into bed. I told them I loved them. I then poked my head above the youngest's crib and said, "I love you. Good night." She looked at me with a neutral expression for a moment, and then smiled, showing me all four of her teeth on the top. She raised her right hand, waved at me, and said "Bye!" in her little toddler voice.  Excuse me for a moment while my heart melts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As frustrating as they can be at times, I wouldn't send them back for the world. Or as my Grandpa so eloquently put it, "I wouldn't sell you for a million dollars, and I wouldn't pay a nickel for another one just like you."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6266539187820218431-3570138868693530636?l=cookusnest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/feeds/3570138868693530636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6266539187820218431&amp;postID=3570138868693530636' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/3570138868693530636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6266539187820218431/posts/default/3570138868693530636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cookusnest.blogspot.com/2008/04/as-those-of-you-who-are-parents-know-it.html' title='A Daddy&apos;s Reward Moment'/><author><name>Mark</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
