Bienvenido

Isn't it interesting that things once written in a private journal are now written for all the world to see? Well, I will try to keep it clean and polite, yet interesting. Of course, I still have my handwritten journals. For don't we all have things so terrible and awful, they can scarce be written, let alone shared with the world. I must admit that there are things I am ashamed to write even for myself, for often I am judgemental and rash and empty of compassion and forgiveness. However, I hope that this blog will contain the interesting adventures, wonders, and small joys of my life that I'd like to share and hope to not forget. So, let's get started.

Before I forget, I want to write down some of the things my five-year-old nephew has said before I forget them. Some of them are repeats off of previous facebook posts.

Over dinner:
R: (sigh) Aunt Alison, it's so hard.
A: What is?
R: I've only been 5 for 3 days and it's so hard to be kind....but, I'm doing a good job eating!

Outside:
R: Look Aunt Alison, some ants are eating my cookie.
A: Yep.
R: Aunt Alison, have you ever seen an ant hill?
A: Yes, I've seen one.
R: Only one!?!!!
A: Well no, I've seen several.
R: Oh, how many is several?
A: In this case, probably six.
R: Wow, Aunt Alison, I've seen only zero! That means you've seen five more than me! (long pause) No, six more than me!
Wait Aunt Alison, I see one! (Runs away and comes back) Nope, Aunt Alison, it was a leaf. I'm thirsty.

In the women's bathroom at a restaurant (Ryan and Jackie)
R: Mom, what does that sign say?
J: It says to only put things in the toilet that belong there.
What belongs in the toilet?
R: Poop, pee, toilet paper.......and dead fish.

Last night Ryan attacked Grandpa with a pillow and 'yelled pillow fight!!!' Grandpa responded, 'how can it be a fight if only you have a pillow?' That stopped Ryan in his tracks for a moment. Then, he scampered off, grabbed a smaller pillow for grandpa and resumed the attack. It was hilarious watching a 65 year-old man pillow fight with his 5 year-old grandkid in pj's. Hilarious and wonderful. One of the few moments that I'd actually want to watch again on video. Most of those home videos end up of the floor or the sky anyway.


So, now that my parents have arrived in Utah, there's Nevin, Myrtianne, Warren, Jackie, Alison, Mike, and Ryan. The funny thing though is that we all hold so many different titles. For example, I'm a sister, an aunt, a daughter, and a sister-in-law. However, I am only called Alison and Aunt Alison. My dad is a dad, a grandpa, a father-in-law, and a husband. So, he is called grandpa, Dad, and Nevin. I never realized how confusing this could be until we were all together for vacation. Suddenly, mentioning to Mike and Ryan that Mom and Dad are coming means two different things. To me, it's Nevin and Myrtianne. To them it's Warren and Jackie. So, I've started addressing my parents are grahamcracker and grandpa in order to reduce confusion. Yet, I'm not sure my parents really delight in having additional family members refer to them as grandparents. Oh well. Oh yeah, and Ryan started calling his mom 'Jackie' the other day. That did not go over very well at all.

Ryan really enjoys waking me up in the morning. He dives on me at full force with a huge smile on his face. I'm never particularly excited to be up at the crack of dawn, yet there is something wonderful about his excitement every morning in seeing me. No one else is racing in to wake me and glimpse my sleepy eyes and crazy hair. So, I welcome the wake up calls. One day, when he is a little older, he probably won't race in my room, jump on me, and be ready to play. So, I'll accept his love in this form, right now.

I do love how Ryan never wonders if his presence is wanted. He justs scurries into a room with full force and engages with life. It is delightful (98% of the time). He is so real and innocent. If he is hungry, he eats. If he's sad, he cries. If he's lonely, he goes in search of a companion. I wonder when it is in life that we learn to hide our emotions and represh our bodies' signals.