White Coat Ceremony

Sorry it's been a little while since I last posted. My computer broke and that darn Dave for some reason needs his at school, so I'm computerless. Needless to say, this post is a little overdue....

Dave recently had his white coat ceremony. And it's just as it sounds. He got a white coat. At a ceremony. Who knew that getting a white coat was such a big deal? Well now you and I do. It's apparently your official induction into the health care profession. It was a really nice ceremony. But for Dave, it was extra special. I'll let the pictures portray the transformation for themselves....

Presenting the Old, Boring David Martell....


Notice the darkness that surrounded the old David Martell

And the light that encompasses the New & Improved David MITCHELL




In honor of the new & improved student doctor David Mitchell, I thought it only appropriate to articulate what this change has brought into David's life and the new skills he has acquired...


A dancer


A musician


A beautician


Amazing super-human strength (what, you think just anyone can hang from a tree like that?)


And last, but DEFINITELY not least, he can now slip in and out of Hook character at the drop of a hat

Friendships

Lately I've been hearing a lot of people talk about how it's difficult to make friends when you move to new places. I just don't get that. We moved to Arizona about 6 months ago and it really hasn't been hard at all. I guess I just don't understand why people have that hard of a time making friends. It seems pretty simple to me. So, since it apparently seems to be harder for others than for me, I'll share my good fortune and pass along my infinite wisdom on the subject (free of charge):

Step 1: Have a Baby
Step 2: Make sure the Baby you have is really cute
Step 3: Direct that Baby in the direction of those with whom you would like to become BFFs
Step 4: Allow your Baby a few minutes to work his magic on your soon-to-be BFFs
Step 5: Casually walk over to your Baby and unsuspecting victim and nonchalantly begin to lure them into conversation with you.
Step 6: If they appear to be bored with the topic of conversation, offer to allow them to hold said Baby and talk about the Baby until you have their full attention once more
Step 7: Repeat steps 3-6 as often as needed to gain the friendships of your new BFFs


If by chance you are unable/unwilling to properly execute Steps 1&2 I will allow you to borrow this Baby (for a nominal fee) as he has proven himself very capable of the task at hand.

Amazing House Guests

So our thanksgiving was fabulous. We had a lot of great family here who understood my incapacity to properly cook a tasteful Thanksgiving dinner, so they did what any good-hoping-to-eat-some-edible-food people would do-they cooked it themselves. They were wonderful!!! It was great and I'm hoping to lure them all back here again next year because it was SO much fun and they were such great cooks (not to mention the amazing cleaner-uppers).

The downfall was the HUGE messes to clean up....

I mean, seriously, was it too much to ask just one of our guests to be responsible to watch our child (and clothe him)?

And really, how did it go unnoticed that our children weren't really sleeping at all?

So, if our lovely guests could please watch our children a little more attentively next time, that would be just great...

How was your Thanksgiving?

Super Heroes

Just a few short thoughts for tonight...

Super heroes are great, aren't they? There have been a few super heroes in my life...

My dad has always been a super hero of mine. He always saw the good in me, and made sure to remind me of it.

During my teenage years, there was an older man in our ward. Every time he saw me he would call me "Beautiful" and give me a hug. He made me feel beautiful.

My husband who makes me feel beautiful now.

My mission companions who loved me despite my shortcomings, my many, many shortcomings.

My siblings who always accept and love me the way I am.

Speaking of super heroes, check out these bad boys....

(Pay no attention to the clothe-less child, this was in between changing of the clothes-for the millioneth time that day)

Today my friend Shelly was kind enough to patiently help me make some "super hero" capes for my boys. Izak insisted his be red like Superman and Landon's be black like Batman. I'm excited to make them their masks to go with it...

I love Super Heroes!

My Heart was Broken...

...for the little six year old boy that was being verbally abused in the store. Who was told that his parents' hoped his leg was broken. Who was berated over and over for a wrong doing.
My Heart was Angered...
...for the little boy when he was physically harmed and had a mark on his face five minutes later to show for it.
My Heart was Sad...
....when I saw the person standing right next to him turn around and face the other direction until the scene was over.

My Heart was Pounding...
...when I confronted the man and woman and while trying to empathize with the frustrations that sometimes come with children, also explaining to them at the same time that it is never okay to abuse your child. That abuse is against the law.
My Heart was Outraged...
...when the man replied by telling me that the boy got what he deserved. And then the man expounded on that by saying he would've killed him if they hadn't have been in the store.
My Heart was Racing...
...when the couple started verbally attacking me with profanity, screaming, and very close proximity to my face.

And then my heart was shocked...
...when a lady came up and told me that I wasn't setting a good example for my children by causing the scene. And then the man that helped me out with my groceries informed me that I shouldn't have handled it in such a way.

And I pondered this in my heart all the way home and all afternoon...how it was that I was treated as if I had caused a scene. How the employees quickly rushed me out of the store so as to not cause anymore disturbance. How I was told that I had done wrong. How I was made to feel embarassed for my actions.

But I am not embarassed. And as long as the safety of me or my children are not in jeopardy, I will continue to give voice to those children that don't have a voice. I will not allow the fear of others' actions to dictate my actions.

It's All About the Heart

A couple of days ago I came across this blog. I read a couple of entries. Apparently this blog was gaining popularity fast and had over 6,000 hits a day. The other day, the author of the blog came forward and admitted that it was all fictional. Some people were really angry. I personally thought it was hilarious and was so impressed she pulled it off. But it got me thinking...that's kind of like how life is sometimes. We can paint any kind of picture we want for others to see. And if we're good enough actors, we can pull it off. And some people do. I saw it on a number of occasions growing up.
This brought me to another question...what's the difference between seeing the glass half full (and thus generally being upbeat and happy)and putting up of a front of how we want people to see us? I thought about this a lot the other day. And then I knew the answer. It's what is in our hearts. It's who we are when no one is looking. If we're choosing to give more weight to the good than the bad, then we're going to feel that whether anyone's watching or not. But if we're simply putting on a show in hopes others will see us as something we may not be, then we'll breathe a sigh of relief once the door is shut.

So, just to clear the air...my children are NOT just pretending. They really are perfect. All.The.Time. What?! You don't believe me?! Fine. See for yourself.


This is what my children are doing 24/7 at home. Come on by and see for yourself. (Um, but before you come by, can you just call and give us an hour's notice so I can clean the house...and bathe my boys...and get them looking cute...and bribe/threaten (one of) them to be nice to each other...and do my make up...and get cute clothes on...)
Yea, cause, around here, we're all about what's in the heart.

Family Dinner, What's That?

Tonight was one of those nights where I was deciding between making two different things for dinner. I decided on the spinach/rice casserole.

Izak said he wasn't hungry and wouldn't touch it.
Landon was screaming because his teeth hurt.
Dave doesn't like spinach (who knew?).
So I am left. Eating the spinach casserole all alone.

I should have gone with my first idea.
Sugar cookies.
Something tells me they would've gone over much better.

One Quarter Down (Almost), A Lot More to Go

In two weeks, Dave will complete his first quarter. You know, after working so hard for a common goal for over 5 years, it feels so good to be where we're at. I feel like we've accomplished SO much just to get here. I'm not sure if it's because we worked so hard and had to overcome so much to get to where we are today, but so far, medical school has been good to us. Dave brings home amazing grades every week. We have a system that is working for us. Dave is a great support to me and tries to take care of the kids in the time he has available so that I get time to do stuff for me. I can do this. We can do this. Four years of this is doable. It feels great to know that.
Before we came here we heard a lot of negativity regarding medical school and the effects it has on marriages/families. It's nice to be here, and living it, and to realize that it can be done. Just like anything else, if we really want it, it's going to take work. And working together. It can be done. We will do it. And I'm grateful for the last 5+ years and how much they prepared us for this. Compared to some previous struggles, I welcome this one. This struggle is an exciting one. One where I see Dave accomplishing his dream day by day, week by week. A dream he's had for a long time. It's exciting. And I love to be a part of it. I'm so proud of Dave already.

And here's the man of the hour in all his glory...

13 Down, 13 To Go

So, today I ran my first 1/2 marathon race. I figured pictures would depict how I felt better than I could put into words...
You'll have to excuse the self-portraits, I had to go alone to the race since Dave had another full day of studying.


So naive as to what awaited....


Okay, so it wasn't quite that bad....more like....



Yea. So, it was pretty hard. I'm still not sure how I'm going to manage twice that distance. But, I got my time goal, so I was REALLY excited about that....
Special thanks must go out to the following individuals for helping me achieve my goal today:
The YMCA director who allowed this poor (literally) girl to register and run despite the inability to pay the entrance fee.
My husband who wrestled the boys for 3 hours before handing them off to the next victim.
My friends, Dave and Shelly, for watching the boys until I got back and not kicking me out of their home despite my horrendous stench.
My friend Kathleen who came and cheered for me at the finish line and gave me a great congratulations gift!

On another note, today I discovered the key to keeping your kids from crying. And it only cost me $4 for this amazingly cry-free day with my 3-year-old...


He had already taken his nap by now, so the paint was smeared.

Yep. Anytime Izak would start to cry, I'd remind him that if he cries his paint would smear. Worked like a charm. Everytime. Sad to see the paint go tonight. Until tomorrow. I will be painting his face everyday from now on. The best $4 I ever spent.

And last of all (I promise, this post will end. Maybe.)...the boys and I (Dave not included-in fact, he's still studiously studying as I type this) went to the city halloween party tonight. It was cute to take them. They had lots of fun things... we went trick-or-treating, went to the dragons' petting zoo (they had snakes, cockroaches (which I did NOT touch-too many bad memories from Brazil), bearded dragons, and tarantulas), and a puppet show. It was really cute.



It was a good day. How was yours?

I'm the victim here, I'm the victim

So the other day I had one of those moments with my child, you know, the kind where you wish you could pretend they weren't your own (or is that just me?)...we were walking out of a grocery store and my child (who will remain nameless to keep his pride intact) began to have the biggest melt down ever. Flailing arms, screaming, kicking, biting. You name it. He was all over it. Literally. The only thing I could do was to restrain him (I knew my proper restraint training as a social worker would come in handy sometime!). As people were walking by I was getting the evil eye. I could see the wheels in their minds turning (How dare that mom...that poor little boy....look at his cute little brown eyes, if only he had a chance with a good mom...why i outta...) I mean, look at this kid, could he really be capable of such behaviors?


Don't be fooled by that cute, adorable face you see with those big, brown eyes. Because, truth be told, the shirt says it all...


So, we started a behavior chart for the little monster. He earns stickers for different good behaviors throughout the day. Once he earns enough stickers to get to the star, he earns a prize. I explained the rules of the behavior chart to him. He then clarified by asking, "So, once I get all the way to the star, I get a prize, right?". I told him that was right. So, take a look at where he put the next two stickers...



My little monster is very smart. In fact, whenever I am sick, he always knows how to help me feel better.
Me:Izak, I feel sick.
Izak: Well then, go poop.

It's as simple as that people.

And now you see why I keep my little monster around. And you all thought it was just because he is so cute and charming.

Sometimes Life is Hard

Okay, a few comments before you read this post...I'm posting this really late (sorry it didn't get posted yesterday, I had a volleyball game and didn't get to it after I got home) so if I don't make a whole lot of sense, at least I have an excuse this time! Also, in case any of you are worried, I am not writing this post because things are especially difficult at the moment, something someone said to me the other day triggered this thought and I was interested to hear all of your thoughts on the subject at hand...

Sometimes life is hard. Why does it seem that we are sometimes afraid to admit this? I know I've done it. I WANT to appear as if I've got it all together. I WANT to appear as if I have the most perfect family ever. I want people to see me in this shining light. But the reality is, that sometimes I'm not all put together. Sometimes I'd be embarrassed if someone saw me on my bad days or heard the voice or words I sometimes use when I'm at my worst. Sometimes I don't have the most perfect family ever. Sometimes there is absolutely no light shining around me. Sometimes life is hard.

I recently read on a friend's blog about how she and her husband were celebrating their 3 year anniversary. She commented that it had been a hard 3 years. There were no real details into why it was challenging, just that it was hard. She made sure to state that just because it was hard, doesn't mean that it wasn't worth it or that she doesn't love her spouse. I found her post refreshing. Refreshing to know that sometimes other people struggle just like me. Maybe not in the same way. But that others have struggles too. Because sometimes life is hard.

I think others, like me, sometimes fall into this trap of wanting to appear as if everything is perfect. Why is that? Why is it that we (Disclaimer: By saying "we" I am in no way including YOU personally as I don't know if you do this as well, I am simply saying "we" to include those of us who fall into this category as I am well aware that some of you do not do this, to which I am grateful to learn from your example!) have such a desire to appear as if we've got everything made? Why is it that we are afraid to admit that sometimes things are hard? Is it how we were raised that instills this desire inside us? Is it that we misconstrue what we are taught in our religion to think we are told we have to be perfect now? Is it society that tells us to answer "good" anytime we're asked how we are doing, even if it couldn't be further from the truth? And where is the balance between being a constant complainer to anyone and everyone vs. being a friend that others know they can turn to because we've allowed others to see that we too struggle at times? Because the truth is, sometimes life is hard.

This is something that I've been striving to work on; being more honest with how my life really is. I feel this is important. As I think about the major struggles I have gone through in my life, I can almost always pinpoint one (or a few) person that was significant in supporting me through those trials. Not that anyone could fight my battles for me, or that I was asking them to, but because they were willing to share their struggles with me, which happened to be similar to the ones that I was currently passing through, it gave me a sense of hope that I too could overcome my present challenge just as they had. And how grateful I am to those that have helped me with their support, friendship, encouragement, and love during those times. What a special place they hold in my heart. And how I hope to be that somebody to others. Because I strongly believe that we are placed in one another's lives to help each other at different times. To give hope to others when they no longer can see that hope. And to receive that hope from others when we no longer see it. Because the truth is, sometimes life is hard.

But life becomes a little bit easier when we're willing to share one another's burdens.

All I Want for Christmas Is...

Izak: Mommy, can I have a pony for Christmas?
Me: No, because you know the people that are letting us borrow their house? Well, they said we can't have any animals in their house because it'll get the house all dirty.
Izak: Well, I'll just get a really little pony that can fit in my hand so that way I can hold it all day and it won't get the house dirty.
Me: Izak, even little, little ponies are a lot bigger than you.
Izak: They are?!! Well then, how can they be put in a box and wrapped for Christmas?

Danya and Alex (Dave's twin sister and her husband) were kind enough to come visit us this past weekend. It was a lot of fun. They even took us to the state fair where we had the privilege of dining on the BIGGEST corn dogs I've ever seen, I love corn dogs. It was great....

Danya also made Izak promise that he will ask for a pony every year for Christmas.

Izak always remembers his promises. Yea, thanks Danya.



(This picture was taken after I had already eaten half the corn dog, seriously.)


Fairs are the best...Izak loved the animals (okay, none are in this picture because instead of taking a picture of us in front of some BORING animals, I REALLY wanted a picture in front of the cute little barn display, of course!)

One Talent Wonder

I've been blessed to know some amazing people. I first really started noticing this while serving an LDS mission in Brazil. I served with a lot of amazing women that changed my life forever.
I continue to be astounded by those with whom I come into contact. The more I get to know each one, the more impressed and humbled I am by their many strengths. If I allow myself, I start to feel a twinge of sadness that I am not quite up to par with these ladies, and it makes me stop and wonder how it was decided as to how many strengths and talents we would each be given. Which in turn reminds me of the parable found in Matthew 25:15-28 where it talks about how each person is given a different amount of talents and based on the talents we receive, there are certain requirements attached.
And then I start to not mind so much being one of the ones that may not have as many talents as another, because, just imagine, if I had more talents, would I really have time to blog (Disclaimer: There are many blogs out there that are beneficial and helpful and thus a great use of your/my time, this one just doesn't happen to be one of those) or do the other very important things with which I occupy my time? In fact, all you many talented women (or men, if any actually read this...) out there, do you really think you should be reading this right now? I'm pretty sure you've got some talents to be developing.
So, yea, I think I'm okay with my one talent and I'll just continue to relish in the goodness of the many talented people with whom I am privileged to associate...
So, here's to the One Talent Wonder...



Just try to tell me that face doesn't scream TALENT (Click on picture to see the real talent in action)!

Livin' the Dream

You ask how I am, do you?
All I can say is, I'm livin' the dream.

Don't ask me what the dream is that I'm livin', because I have no clue.
The other day I asked a friend with whom I have not spoken in a couple of years how he was doing, and this was the answer I received. He's living the dream.

What is this dream that people talk of?

Is it waking up at 6am to two onery little boys?
Is it dragging your child out of his friend's house in the midst of a royal tantrum?
Is it getting snot wiped all over your clothes after you've just gotten ready for the day?
Is it asking your child to stop steam rolling your one-year-old for the upteenth time?

If it is, well then, today, I was Livin' the Dream. That's right. Read it and weep.

And here's who I have to thank for the aforementioned Dream Livin'




And I wouldn't change a thing.

(Except maybe the 6am wake up call...and the tantrum throwing...and the snot wiping...and the steam rolling...but those boys, now those boys are keepers!)


How about you, when have you "Lived the Dream"?

The First Incision

Greetings digital blogging world. I have decided to make my first official post. As many of you are well aware I have recently started medical school. So far it is every bit as demanding as I imagined it. At the same time it is very exciting and I love learning about the various subjects that I am studying. Medical school holds a lot of surprises and many unforeseen events. In fact something very interesting happened to me just the other day, I was called into a room to make my very first incision with a scalpel into a human body. It was quite the experience. First I put on my scrubs and gloves.



Then I walked into the room took the scalpel and examined the body. I don't remember what was going on inside of my head at the time, but for those of you who know how I get squeamish at the site of blood you won't be surprised to hear that it was probably something like this "please don't pass out, please don't pass out, please don't pass out". Then I made my first cut into a human body. It was at that point that I realized that cutting open a cadaver really was not as bad as I thought it would be. I think it may have something to do with the training that I receive as an officer in the US army. We are taught to not let these kinds of things bother us. So we continued to open up the back of the body until we found the spine. I have included a picture for those of you who have never dissected a cadaver before.



After we found the spine we were given a bone saw to cut open the spine so that we could expose the spinal cord inside. Once we made our cuts along the spine we were given a hammer and some chisels to complete the job. We had to chisel our way into the bone ( for those of you who like eating crab and lobster you might want to skip this part) and break it apart piece by piece, it was almost like breaking crab legs or lobster claws to expose the meat. We had to break the bones and chisel it so that we could rip pieces of it off to expose the spinal chord.

If there is one thing to be said of medical school it's that it is not dull. There is always something to be done. I really am enjoying it a lot. I also wanted to thank all of you who are supporting my wife during this time by posting on your blogs or calling here on the phone because it lets her socialize with people who are over the age of three, seeing as how I am gone for 12 hours a day and then I come home and study at night. So all of you bloggers I take back everything that I ever said about it, and keep up the good work.

Thought Full Thursday

So the other day I was reading an article that was talking about legacies. It asked what type of legacy we will leave our children, whether it be the children we now have or the ones we will one day have. It made me stop and ponder on what legacies I want to leave my children. I wrote down in my journal the legacies I hope to leave my children and how I will achieve this. The legacies I wish to leave my children are simple:

1. I want them to know that they are loved.
2. I want them to know that they are special.
3. I want them to know there is a Father in Heaven that loves them and a Savior that suffered and died for any mistakes they will ever make or any hardships through which they will pass.
4. I want them to know that the gospel of Jesus Christ will bring them more happiness and peace than anything else ever could.

If I leave these legacies for my children, I will have succeeded as a parent. And if I leave these legacies for my children, how much better prepared will they be to go out and face the world than was I. It took me a long time to realize that I am loved. That I am special. And how vitally significant this knowledge is. It shapes my decisions every day of my life. I wonder what decisions I might have made differently had I known this years before (I am a slow learner). But how grateful I am to have this knowledge now. And how I hope to help my children have this knowledge at a much younger age than I so they can accomplish whatever they dream of accomplishing.

How about you...what legacies do you hope to leave your children (whether present or future)? What knowledge do you now have that you wished you had at an earlier stage in life?

Thought Full Thursdays

So, I was thinking that I'm going to start a new kind of post every week. On Thursdays I will post some of my random, disorganized thoughts. I know you may be wondering if I really have enough deep thoughts to post every week. I am too. I guess we'll see. But here is today's day full of thought (I would love any additional insight or thoughts you may have as well)......
As some of you may know, this last year has been a rough year. I'd venture to say, the hardest year of my life up until this point. But it has been such a good year in so many ways. I have learned and been reminded of things that I hope I will never forget again.
One of the most important things that I was reminded of through the course of this last year is the power each of us has to be the deciders of our own destinies. It is incredibly empowering to know that we choose who we will become. We decide if we will be happy. This in no way means we will always be happy. This means that when we are not happy, we have the power to make decisions to change our situation. I learned this a long time ago. I remember coming to a point in my life when I realized that I had been victim to different circumstances. I was wronged. I was angry. And I had every right to be angry. And then I realized that I had the power to choose whether I would continue to be a victim to the injustices dealt to me or if I would choose to allow those wrongs to mold me into an even better person than I was before I was victimized. That realization was incredibly empowering.
When life wasn't going my way last year, I forgot this incredibly important piece of information. I felt depressed at the thought that I was yet again a victim and there was nothing that I could do about it. Being a victim is hard. Feeling powerless is even harder, it's incredibly depressing. And then I remembered. I remembered that I was the one with the power to change what I did not like. That no one had enough power over me to take that away from me. And I felt a sense of hope and newness once again. I took action. Action is so empowering. And I felt myself come to life again.
Sometimes it's incredibly hard to have to acknowledge that no matter our circumstance, we ALWAYS have a choice. Once we admit to ourselves we have a choice, we can no longer blame anyone else for our circumstances because we then realize that we have the opportunity to better our situation. And sometimes it's easier to continue to be the victim than to make that hard choice. But that choice is the most empowering experience and realization. And it fills my life with hope. Knowing that no matter what may come in my life, I can ALWAYS choose to do something about it. To better my life. To create my own happiness.
And I will do this.
And, for the record, I never imagined how happy I would be today in comparison to how I felt a year ago. My life is in no way perfect, but I never thought that my life would be where it is today. I wouldn't trade this last year for anything. Action is empowering.

And So It Begins

So, I've decided to put into action my goal to "one day" run a marathon. I'm now training to run a marathon on Jan. 3rd just outside of Las Vegas (so Jenny and Betsy, I sure do hope to see you guys while I'm there!!). In any case, I've only been training for a couple of weeks now, but so far, so good.
Or as good as it can be considering I have to train the whole time while pushing both Izak and Landon. And let me tell you, more than the physical pushing of the two is the constant mediating between them. But, the other day, I had a non-mediation run with the boys and I swear I ran 5 minutes/mile faster!

Let me give you a little glimpse into how it is running with Izak and Landon....

Pant, Pant, "Izak, keep good space", Pant, Pant, "Izak, you need to keep good space", Pant, Pant, "Izak if you keep good space we can go swimming (or to the park or watch a movie or get a cookie....) when we get home", Pant, Pant, "Izak, remember you're trying to earn your reward", Pant, Pant, "Izak, if you don't stop pushing (or touching or smashing or hitting) Landon you're going to have to have a time out when we get home", Pant, Pant, "Izak, stop touching Landon right now" (In not the most pleasant voice ever).

Times that by 100 and you've got the idea. Seriously. But we've got to do something while Dave is at school for 12 hours a day, right?

My Nose Is Growing

I've never understood those parents that lie to their children. You know, like about Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy, Easter Bunny, stuff like that...
So a couple of weeks ago Dave taught Izak that if he yells "Alicazip" it will open/close the garage door. So anytime we're going somewhere now, Izak will yell "Alicazip" and the garage door magically opens/closes. Well, the other day I was in the kitchen and I heard Izak in the garage yelling "Alicazip" over and over again. Each time Izak yelled "Alicazip" he got louder and louder trying to convince that door to close. A few minutes later, Izak finally came in with a confused look of defeat on his little face. He explained to me that he had been yelling "Alicazip" to close the garage door but it wouldn't close and inquired as to why it wasn't working. So, I told him the truth.
He OBVIOUSLY wasn't yelling loud enough.

Battered Brother Syndrome

I'm afraid Landon has Battered Brother Syndrome (BBS in the DSM-IV for all you LCSWs out there). Izak knocks him around time after time, but Landon just keeps going back to him. For example, this morning Izak kicked him so he was sent to his room for time out. Within 30 seconds Landon had crawled over to Izak's closed door and was knocking on it to have Izak let him in the room. Like I said, Battered Brother Syndrome.

Nomads No More

After being homeless for way too long, we have finally settled into our new home. We're super excited about our new house as it has many features that we have never before experienced. Here are some of the highlights of our new home, just to name a few:
1. 2 car garage
2. a fenced back yard
3. a walk in closet
4. bathrooms INSIDE the home
5. washer/dryer
6. running water

The list could go on, but you get the picture...speaking of pictures, here are a few (okay, a lot-so you don't have to check them out if you don't want to as I'm sure we're more excited about our new home than you are-so we won't be offended)...


Don't be fooled, it's only clean because of my lack of cooking abilities


You know you've never had a dining room table when your 3-year-old says you're having a party every time you eat at the table instead of the counter


Dave's throne


Landon's not even sleeping in the bottom bunk yet, but has already fallen off more times than I can count


Spare bedroom for when YOU come to visit us!


Where Dave will learn how to become a doctor


Our dresser weighs 400 lbs alone-no joke!


Our couches passed the test-Dave's mom sat on them instead of the floor!


Monkey bathroom for the monkey boys


Our patio (in the backyard)-Dave's perfected the art of grilling


Izak and Dave's babysitter

Do It Or Else...

You'd think I'd be a posting fool with no job and a husband home to help all the time, but apparently instead I'm just a slacker...I promise I'm going to post an update of our lives here in the sweltering heat of AZ with pictures of our new place later this week, but figured I need a little motivation to post, so here it is, unless I get 10 responses to this post, I'm throwing in the towel, writing this blogging thing off, and turning my back on the world, that's right, you heard me, now get a postin'!

Here are the directions....

1. As a comment on my blog, leave one memory that you and I have together. It doesn't matter if you knew me a little or a lot, anything you remember...

Well, what are you waiting for? Do you really want me to stop blogging? I mean, what would you do with all your free time if you didn't have this AMAZINGLY interesting blog to read? Seriously, start writing!

And the misery continues...

I've been thinking lately about the lame situation the Sargeant put us in, and decided that it would be important to document how much he has really messed up this time. And of course, everyone knows, there's no better documentation than pictures. So, here are a few pictures that show just how much we continue to suffer due to that dang Sargeant:


Izak and Landon being forced to play at the pool with their cousins Mara, Asher, & Eden


Child labor laws being broken-poor Izak had to help Papa drive the tractor for hours


Don't be fooled by the smiles in this one-anyone that knows my dad knows that just having to spend time with him is pure TORTURE


My Grandma & Grandpa Lloyd said if we didn't visit them, they'd take us out of their inheritance


Dave's Grandma & Grandpa Mellot shoved our favorite candy down our throats while we were there


Unfortunately, I did not have my camera available for these other incidents, but they were just as traumatizing as the other recorded events:
*Visited my long lost best friend (we were best friends from 6th grade through my senior year of high school)
*Visited Jenna and Kevin in Boise and had to eat a bunch of good food and play fun games
*Had no choice but to eat my mom's amazing cooking morning and night

That Sargeant picked the wrong people to mess with!

Moping Around with Nothing To Do

So, for those who don't know, the lovely Sargeant with whom we've had the privilege to work, once again decided to play a trick on our little family. Yep, that's right, Dave did not end up going to Officer Training. This means that we are homeless and incomeless (good word isn't it?!) for quite a while. So, in true Martell fashion, we've been mourning our awful situation as we hope you will for us too. We've been having an awful time, cursing the name of the Sargeant and living in a cardboard box. See for yourselves...


Bryce Canyon


Zion National Park


We decided to torture ourselves by going to Bryce Canyon, Zion National Park, St. George, Las Vegas (where we got to meet up with one of my favorite people ever-Betsy!), Park City, floating down the Provo River, and we'll be leaving for Oregon on Friday. As you can tell, our lives have been RUINED by that dang Sargeant!

The Benefits of having a Tubby Tummy Baby

3. His falls are always cushioned.
2. Even if your baby's crying and "acting" as if he's hungry, you know he can go at least a few more hours off of his "food storage" inside that tubby tummy.
1. And here's the #1 reason...





That's right people. Eat your hearts out. When my child is bored, all I have to do is take his clothes off and he can play with his fat for hours. Don't you wish your baby was fat like mine...