Presenting: Daphne Martha McCrery

More details coming soon. But for now, meet the feet of our newest child:



Daphne Martha McCrery
Born: November 21st, 2009 - 8:19am (Yes, the same birthday as Wyatt!)
Length: 21"
Weight: 8lbs 11oz
Hair: Dark so far
Cuteness: In the 99th percentile.
Face:

Coupons!

Check out these great sanity saving offers being offered to Stepper from Bill!




Isn't my husband fweakin' awesome?

October

Here it comes...

Just three more days until...

OCTOBER!

sharing

Wyatt and Kale, sharing a table and sharing chips.

Two very cool kids.

It's a GIRL!

Coming This November to a McCrery Home near YOU!

Weekend Highlights

1. Friday - cleaned the whole house so that we didn't have to futz with it at all on Saturday. I mean - we had PLANS. It was Father's Day, after all! Who wants to scrub toilets?? I managed to do most of it, but Bill did vacuum. Even on his weekend off. Thanks, babe!

2. Friday evening - grocery shopping in a torrential downpour. Okay - they don't do summer storms like they do in Utah. We were in our neighborhood Alby's just minding our own business on the cracker isle, and POP! The lights all go out, and a bunch of girls begin to scream. I have to admit, at this moment, I was pleased that not one of my family of three added to the annoying shrieks that filled the store. Instead, we stopped where we were, and when the lights came on again - which we knew they would (even Wyatt knew they would, it seemed) - we took eye-inventory of each other (yes, we were all still there, and Wyatt wasn't at all freaked out. In fact, he seemed rather pleased) and then grinned. Bill and I said, "cool! there must be a major storm going on outside!" and Wyatt said, "Dark! Dark! Lights off! Dark!" We hurried and checked out so that we could check out the storm. We were in the store maybe half an hour. When we went in, it was a fairly mild rain. When we left, it was a heavier rain, but in no way what it must have been during the time we were oblivious in the store. The streets had been turned rivers that we had to navigate around in our Rav, and people were standing under awnings or running with umbrellas, looking soaked and bewildered.

Mmmm...I love summer storms.

3. Saturday morning - Stepper goes to help at Jamie's semi-annual dance concert. Stepper helps with folding programs, getting Kenya dressed into her next costume (from tropical bird to minnie mouse) and setting up chairs for audience and tables for concessions and ticket sales. She also sweeps feathers off the stage and gossips with her mother (who was also there, helping) about how incredible Jamie is, what with having had a baby three weeks ago and still being able to put on an entire large-scale production AND get up on stage and do high-kicks with one of her students. Stepper may or may not have welled up a few times with pride and gratitude for such an awesome sister.



4. Saturday evening - the Father's Day Feast. Bill requested Gyoza - which is his favorite thing that Stepper makes. We make up an entire package of wraps worth of Gyoza (count 'em, folks! That's 60 gyoza!) and yes, we ate them all. Salty, Japanese goodness!


5. Sunday Morning - the Father's Day breakfast in bed. Wyatt and I joined dad for breakfast - you should have seen me trying to haul Wyatt's high chair up the stairs with my big ol' pregnant tummy in the way and trying so hard not to wake either of my boys until I was ready! We had breakfast sandwiches

(sausage, egg and cheese on a toasted english muffin) pears and juice, and Bill opened his gifts. The highlight, I think, was the gift that Wyatt picked out for him at the store. A flying helicopter/airplane set with ZIP CORD ACTION! Wyatt thinks they belong to him. He hasn't let the helicopter out of his sight since daddy opened it.

6. Church. Bill and I taught CTR. Well, Bill taught it, I sat and listened and loved him.

7. Father's Day dinner at Mom and Dads. BBQ'd Steak and grilled mushrooms, potatoes, mom's famous fruit and spinach salad, homemade potato rolls, homemade blackberry jam, and sweet corn. Yes, Bill did get to eat REAL MEAT for Father's Day, and I didn't have to prepare it, so we all won! Thanks, Mom and Dad! And thanks, Meg, for the Peach Cobbler!

8. Seeing Grandma and Grandpa and Aunt Jan. They came for dinner at Mom's and stayed for games. We learned a new dice game.

9. Crazy kisses from Wyatt. He's discovered that if he kisses mom on the cheek, but then jaws his mouth so she gets a toothy, slobbery mess of a kiss that she laughs - especially if he says "bwah-bwah-bwah!" while he does it. And then she'll lip-gnaw on his cheek and then he'll get her other cheek and it goes back and forth until we're both laughing so hard that we have to fall on the floor.

10. Best highlight of all - my Bill. The father of my children - of Wyatt, of the Moeb who will join us officially in November, and of anyone else who decides to join us. He is, I'm convinced, the best father in the world. I interviewed him over Father's Day breakfast Sunday morning. I asked him what the best thing about being a father was. He said Wyatt. But then he thought about it, and said, "playing with him is my favorite." and ladies and gentlemen, this is true. I've seen accounts. Those two are best friends. When they play together - be it hide-and-seek or laundry basket spaceship - there is this look of pure joy that comes over their faces, and I sit back and watch my little piece of heaven on earth. And then I realize I have that look of pure joy on my face, too.

There's this feeling. When Wyatt and I are playing in the family room and the door knob starts to jiggle, and we both know that Daddy is about to walk through that door, and Wyatt jumps up and yells "daddy! daddy! daddydaddy!" and starts to run in mad circles around the room or into the kitchen because he just doesn't know what to do with himself because he's so excited. And then Bill walks through the door and sees us, and said, "hello family!" and Wyatt gets this look on his face. Like..."I know the good fun just walked through that door, but I don't dare approach 'cause I know he'll tackle me". So he grins and sort of hides behind me and also trembles with anticipation until he can't stand it, and he's the one that goes and attacks Bill.

And then for the next half hour at least, I can't pull the two apart, and I'm free to go do the dishes or whatever. Or, as is most often the case, sit back and watch and laugh (and cringe, because let's be honest. Daddy's can play a little rough! I'm sure Bill gets weary of my constant "careful of his little neck!" reproaches). But this play time teaches me that little Wyatt-type boys are just as tough as older daddy-type boys. And I shouldn't interfere with their sacred rough-housing.

This is Bliss.

I think the world needs more Father's Days.

One or two more Mother's Days wouldn't be bad, either.

Happy Mothers Day and a few more thoughts, to my siblings, and the rest of you have been cc'ed lovingly

To my two Brothers, and my Sister,

This is draft #2, and we’ll see if it sticks. I hope you three are doing well. The hardest part of living in Utah is feeling helpless to really be there if any of you need something from me. I wonder how you’re doing, but it’s rare the phone conversation that lasts long enough to get a really good sense.

Do you miss Mom? Do you miss Dad? I do. I teach Wyatt to know that the black and white picture of dad opening the refrigerator is “Granpa,” which he’s pretty much figured out. It seems my memories of Mom are mostly tied to photographs, with occasional multi-sensory scenes: I remember she would take us to baseball games, I remember trying to match my voice to hers at Good Samaritan during the hymns, and that warbley chord we would strike once in a while. I remember when Dad would be the battle cat, and we would ride on his back. I remember once he took me to Zones, just he and I. But I have a lot more memories of him recently. I remember visiting him at the Shop occasionally, and being impressed with all the stuff he was doing. I would actually hope he had calls to make so I could sit and listen to him wheel and deal over the phone.

I remember that every once in a while, he would say to me, “I miss your mom.” I never knew what to say to that, and I usually said something hollow, like, “I know Dad. I miss her too,” of course in those moments, I never meant it like he must have. I didn’t know what it was like to be married to your best friend, your confidant, the one person who helped you try to be the best you, the person that was next to you in the car, on the couch, at night in bed, and then, they were gone. I never could have known what that was like then, but I know now. Or rather, I have a frame of reference, in which I can imagine very vividly what that would feel like. It would be the loneliest feeling. I think, what Dad was looking for at those times was someone to cry to, or someone to reminisce with. Someone to say, “I remember mom had a violin, but she only got it out once that I can recall, did she ever play it for you?” Or maybe, “I miss her too, I remember her coming in to wake us up in the morning when we were little,” or “Do you remember you used to get her a new frying pan every year? What was the deal with that?”

I can imagine what maybe he meant when he would tell me, “I miss your mom,” like he had been holding in that very phrase for months, maybe years, knowing nobody missed her like he did, but finally not being able to hold in that little confession. I can imagine the disappointment every time he tried, to find out he’d been right, I didn’t really know what he meant. And even now, my experience falls short of the understanding I imagine he was searching for. I can imagine losing my wife, but I can never know what it was like to lose Martha Bland McCrery as my wife.

We’ve lost two parents, and I’ve learned remarkably different things from each experience. I have been taught a number of things from the loss of Dad, but one thing comes up pretty often, and it is this: people move on. Like a perfect diagram I see people in position around Dad, relative to their personal relationship with him, and the further out they are, the sooner their point fades, or cools off, or I don’t know. To say anyone “gets over it” is insensitive and inaccurate, and to say they “accept it” feels equally inadequate. But the fact remains: everyone seems to feel the thud at first; but one day you notice that very few people can still relate.

I think it’s part of a plan. I think it’s a gift. If Dad were only a man I knew from a chance encounter at the grocery store, I would have had very little to learn from losing him. It seems the closer you are to a person, the more you have to gain, or grow, or perhaps learn, from losing them. And the other blessing is this: without disregarding the important differences in who the four of us are, we still know what it feels like to lose Sharrel Clinton McCrery as a father. We know it hurts, and within a few degrees of each other, we know how much.

I think this is a gift. I think it’s purpose is to help us understand Jesus Christ, the Son of God. Christ volunteered to atone for us. Not only for our sins, or our mistakes, but for the consequences of them, and for every other sadness that seems to loom over us infinitely at times. He volunteered, essentially saying, “I will suffer everything that can possibly be suffered, to reset the balance.” Because Christ was perfectly just, every injustice that he suffered through, was like a credit to the human race, he paid the price for each mistake so we wouldn’t, eventually have to do it ourselves (your can’t avoid justice in an organized universe). And it had this wonderful side effect (amongst many, many others): Jesus Christ felt what it felt like to lose Martha Bland McCrery as a wife, and He felt what it felt like to lose Martha Bland McCrery as a mother at the age of five, seven, eleven, and twelve. He felt what it felt like to lose Martha Bland McCrery as a daughter, and as a sister, and so forth. And he felt how it felt when you lost your Dad. Not some approximation imagined from a similar experience. Jesus Christ knows the very feeling of a phone call to tell you that your Dad, Sharrel Clinton McCrery, is dead. He knows the feeling of fear, of sadness, of anger. And because He is perfect, he was able to survive that infinite sadness.

When I lose someone I love, it is a chance to understand a little piece of what Christ felt. And the added gift for the four of us, is to have three people, beyond the Ultimate Comforter, to turn to when you just need to cry, or reminisce. And I wanted you to know that I know you’ve still got open wounds from this whole thing, and so do I.

With love,

Bill

Happy St. Patty's DAY!

from our CLAN to yours!

I looked out the window and what did I see?

Snow where the budding tulips used to be.


Spring was coming, wassup with this surprise?


Now we're once again stuck inside.

Snow can be an eyeful, wondrous and neat


but after the Old Elf comes, it's not as sweet.

You may say that it ain't so - but you ain't foolin' me


you're just as eager as I am for the coming of spring!

here we are at the thing...

bill tries to show me how to use his swank camera. I accidentally take a picture of him showing me with his hands.

and then I back way up, and zoom way in, and take a secret picture of him talking to a neighbor because DANG! My man looks good in uniform.

and Wyatt rarely leaves home with out his dat-do-dee-oh (bat mobile).

Wyatt finds an apple.

Bill had saved me the last apple from the fridge. I kept it in my pocket all day, saving it for an indulgent moment.

I put it down on the cedar chest, turned my back...and it met it's fate.

Yes, that is my laundry in the background. You're welcome.

background test

...trying to see if I can figure out how to get this homemade background onto the blog...

Music Junkies

Stepper's Current favorites:

1. Fleet Foxes


2. The Decemberists


3. Sufjan Stevens


4. Devotchka


5. Sigur Ros

Bill's Current favorites:

1. Sufjan Stevens


2. TV on the Radio


3. Devotchka


4. Fleet Foxes


5. Talking Heads

Wyatt's current favorites:

1. Radiohead: Rockabye Baby


2. They Might be Giants: Bed Bed Bed

2009 I welcome you!

2009, I welcome you! 2008 was quite a ride - moving to a new house, new jobs for both Mr. and Mrs. McCrery, 2 new schools for Mr. McCrery, the END of a job for Mr. McCrery, a MonkeyFish learning to walk and talk (not just sign language, folks! The Bean knows some actual and audible WORDS! the all important ones, like, "uh-oh!", "more" and "cookie". You can see how these three words would be direly important should a cookie fall to the floor. Grandma Tammy also taught him "up", but the Bean performs this one for her only).


2008 awarded us our very own historical event when a black man was voted the new President of the United States. President Obama, I wish you the best of luck in 2009! I hope that the American People will remember that whether they voted for you or not, you are their President, and deserve their support.

2009 marked the moving on of our dearly loved President Hinkley - what a sweet reunion he must have had with his Marjorie! - and the moving into office of our dearly loved President Monson. We LOVE President Monson! The stone rolls on!

Here are just a few things that we'll have to look forward to in 2009...

1. trip to Cali to visit the MOUSE
2. Billy gets to go to school FULL TIME! and without the pesky nuisance of a job. Design the heck out of those graphics, my man.
3. With the help of her new Brother (sewing machine) Stepper will learn how to sew. Mark my words. MARK 'EM!
4. We will welcome our new niece/nephew - baby ________ Adams. My $ is on a boy.
5. my brother in law Clin-TON will wed his high school sweetheart in the fall.
6. Stepper will train for a marathon. She will first learn what the heck this means.

What's on your list?