Physical Therapy

Many of you have asked about Jeff's ankle and how he is recovering from his injury. While he is no longer wearing the brace or the boot, he is certainly not able to run, stop quickly, or bend it at certain angles. To put it in practical terms - he is back to putting away laundry, but not back to mowing the lawn. He is certainly out for the season for the Bjorn's Softball team. While it is still swollen, he has started physical therapy. His regimen includes a few very expensive visits to an Occupational Therapist, lots of stretching with a red piece of rubber tied in a knot (which probably cost a cool $300 bucks) and the use of some specific multi-stage exercises on a BOSU Balance Trainer. While the BOSU ball typically retails for $89.99 + tax, we were so fortunate that Darin and Marilyn had one at home that we could borrow.

I thought you might be interested in an outline of his BOSU therapy, but I want to make sure not to bore you with technical medical jargon. So, I have included some diagrams to show the different exercises you can do on the BOSU ball to aid in muscle strengthening as well as recovery of full motion.

1) Safely position yourself on top of the BOSU the ball.

2) Assume the ready position.

3) Keep knees slightly bent while counting to three.

4) Yell, "Wwhhhhheeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!"

5) Use your arms to achieve maximum height in your jump.

6) If fatigue sets in, take breaks to watch TV between sets.

7) Repeat exercises, careful to avoid canine onlookers.

Another satisfied customer... Check out that physique!

"My Best Friend's Wedding" meets "The Biggest Loser."

Ok, for those of you who know Sandra - and if you know me, you probably know Sandra - we have been best friends since we were assigned seats next to each other in Mrs. Davis' 5th grade portable. She is the one person who knows all the dirt on me and loves me anyway. She is the only person who is truly honest with me even when she knows the truth will hurt.

On the surface, we are an unlikely pair. Even in 5th grade, I was the only girl who played football at recess, and was all-time QB at that. (Thanks, Dad, for teaching me to throw a mean spiral.) She, on the other hand, started her own recess cheerleading squad, "The Chickabooms," or something like that... I started on the volleyball team in Middle School and she french-braided all the players' hair on the bus before the games. I went to MacArthur High, and she went to Churchill. To those of you who lived in this town in the mid-90's, you know that was huge. I was Baptist, she was Catholic. As if our friendship did not have enough stacked against it... I left for UT Austin and she left for Texas A&M. She likes country, I am a rocker. She likes cats, I fear cats so much I have bad dreams about them scratching my eyes out. I have stayed in San Antonio my whole life and have never lived alone, she has lived alone for years, and even picked up and moved to D.C. -- TWICE. Despite our differences - for 18 years now - we have maintained a forever friendship that I would not trade for the world.

We have attended each other's college graduations, grandparents' funerals, parents' birthday parties, and even each had a small crush on each other's older brother at one time. We are also exactly one week apart. It has been a tradition that we celebrate our birthdays for that entire week. From February 8th (her b-day) through the 15th (mine) we have like six parties. At first Jeff was in disbelief, but he is used to it now. He just knows it's our Birthday Week and now he rolls with it.

Did I mention that I have helped that girl move more times that I can count on one hand. For five years or so... Every fall, up to College Station. Every summer, back to San Antonio. Every single time - that girl has the ORIGINAL boxes - and that's no lie - for every single thing in her apartment. I mean, when you help her pack and re-pack, you don't have to label boxes - the picture is already on the outside! From picture frames to shelves, to the blender... to her VCR - all original boxes were intact for every move. It is unreal.

We go in and out of phases, as with most relationships, and there have been times when we have had less in common than others. I got married very early, while she was single, dating, and finding herself. It seemed sometimes like all her stories were about camping out for concert tickets or attending Aggie football games and tailgate parties, while my stories were about finding a good deal on laundry detergent. Still, we managed to relate and I think we took turns living vicariously through each other over the years.

When I went into labor with Jack Everett, she was right there. When the contractions were closer together and delivery was eminent... it was the unspoken time for her to leave Jeff and I to be alone for the delivery. I said, "No, Sandra, please stay! I changed my mind! I really want you in here for the birth!" She knew me well enough, and gave me a hug and said, "You're getting caught up in the moment. You had decided a long time ago you wanted it to be just you and Jeff. I'll see you back in here after he's born." She was right - I was so glad it was just Jeff and I in the room when we went from being a couple to being a family. She knows me.

Well, one thing we always had in common was our weight. No matter where we lived, or what we were going through, it seemed that when I would call her to tell her I had lost 27 pounds - she had lost 27 pounds too, dang it. When she'd come back over a summer, we'd both be heavier again. I'll never forget one summer - we went together to join Bally Total Fitness - all determined. We each signed three-year contracts!!! I went three times in three years... for real. Do not bring it up around Jeff. So, and this is not a joke - I paid $1000.00 per hour for my membership.

Anyway, it was uncanny how we were, for literally ten years, riding that weight loss roller coaster, but were always the same size. That all changed when Jack was born. That same year, Sandra's addiction to exercise was also born. So, I gained 40 pounds, and she lost 40. That was the end of that little special bond we had.

So, that pretty much brings me to today.

Yes, all of that introduction leads to the true reason I sat down to blog tonight. Wow, that's what I call a tangent. I thought this would be a super short blog.

So, Sandra, my very thin very best friend Sandra is getting married on March 29, 2008. I am honored to stand in her wedding and am thrilled that she found Trevor - they are a perfect match. Yadda yadda. Back to the blog.

She sent me the picture of the bridesmaids dress this week, and um, wow. It is gorgeous, .... um, on the model. I stared at it for a moment, wondering if the seamstress would charge by the hour to get that thing to fit my... body shape. This would be costly. Then, my immediate thought was... "If I get pregnant tonight, would I look 'cute pregnant' at the wedding or would I just look fatter?"

Pregnancy is not an option - I'm not ready. I quickly printed out the picture of the perky model wearing the darling dress with darling shoes and pinned it up on my cubicle, right over the snack drawer full of Butterscotch Discs and Smarties.

So, as I like to say, "It's on like Donkey Kong."

I went home, skipped my usual snack in the evening, ate a light dinner, and sat down to do some Math. These were my thoughts: "How many days between now and the wedding? OK... that's how many pounds per week? Don't count the week of Thanksgiving. Or Christmas. Or Birthday Week."... "OK, I can still do this. OK, I will HAVE to join the gym... How much is that? Doesn't matter, it's worth it... I spend just that on Dr. Pepper and Chipotle... I will be eating less too... it will be a savings really..." I quickly realize it is a repeat of the thought process when I got the invitation to the High School Reunion. Only this time, there will be professional photographers. And, there will be six others in the same dress, lined up, potentially looking better in it than I do. This is serious.

Here is a dress very similar to the strapless bridesmaid's dress I will be wearing in my best friend's wedding in six (short) months: I have changed the exact cut and color to save the surprise. But, this is the idea. The good thing is, it's really really pretty.

So, I conclude: They say, "A goal not written down is simply a wish."

This is how it looks on me now...

My goal is for each of the other bridesmaids to gain 20 pounds before the wedding. Um, I mean, my goal is to lose 20 pounds before the wedding.

Jeff and I are going tomorrow to join Spectrum Fitness, and have mapped out our evenings and when we will work out together. After the visit to the gym, we are going to the grocery store for that big pre-life-change shopping trip together.

In all seriousness, throughout our friendship, Sandra and I have taken turns with big events in our lives. I have never (and this is rare among girlfriends.) ever felt a sense of competition between me and Sandra. We are intentional about being the type of girlfriends who allow each other to have time in the spotlight. We take joy in watching the other shine. So, Sandra, I am not making this wedding at all about me and fitting into a dress. Don't worry, I'm totally confident that I will make you look gorgeous.

Trouble on three wheels

Sarah called one weeknight to invite Jack to come out and ride bikes with all the neighborhood kiddos. She said that all of the kids were out and were riding their bikes wearing silly hats. By the time I got Jack Everett changed out of his nice clothes, covered in bug spray, and he finally decided on the perfect hat and the most comfortable shoes (that matched), it was dark out, the other kids were tired of wearing hats, and everyone was all sweaty and ready to head back inside. *sigh

Don't worry... I did have just enough time to snap a few pics (of course!)

Riding the big wheel with his Army hat Mommy found at a garage sale.

"Mom, you told me they'd ALL be wearing hats. Now I look like a dork."

Noah (2) and Jack (3)

Coasting downhill on the way home.*

* OK, I am fully aware that he should totally have a helmet on. I hesitated to even post these pics for fear of the disapproval of other Mommies. But, after some thought, I decided I'd post them so I can continue to be that Mommy that helps other Mommies feel better about their parenting. Think to yourselves, "OK, now I don't feel so bad. Melissa forgets the helmet too." **

** Jeff, I do promise I will not forget it next time.***

*** Yes, I do realize it is a serious safety issue and am not making light of it.

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To see the rest of the biker dude photos: http://www.kodakgallery.com/ShareLandingSignin.jsp?Uc=s5k5l03.3wp8tanr&Uy=hjy3z7&Upost_signin=Slideshow.jsp%3Fmode%3Dfromshare&Ux=0&UV=482919824647_270663916207

Sharing is not for everyone.

We're still working on the sharing thing. I told his pre-school teacher at church that we are outsourcing "sharing" to her. From the look on her face, I don't think she had ever heard another parent describe it quite like that. Then again, I am sure she'll never again encounter a set of parents quite like us.

Jack makes sure he does not accidentally share one of his cars with his little friend Bryce Douglas, who just turned nine months old.

He doesn't even like to share camera time. While trying to take pictures of Bryce in his blue chair, Prince Jack quickly pulls up his little stool to make sure he's in the pics! Bryce looks over at him as if to say, "Um, do you mind?"

Bryce, or as Jack Everett calls him, "Baby Bice"

Bryce's mom, my friend Elizabeth, was so excited that he had started crawling so she dressed him all up and drove him over to show me. It was funny, she put him down on my carpet only to realize that his adorable new outfit was way too big on him. His legs and knees got all caught up in it and he could hardly move. We laughed as he was all tangled in his outfit - great for photos, not so great for crawling!

This wardrobe malfunction caused a little hitch in his giddy-up.

Sure enough though, we was movin' and groovin'.

They really do grow SO quickly. I can hardly remember when Jack was this age. I enjoy having Bryce over because while he visits I imagine our house with two boys, imagine Jack as a big (slightly jealous) brother, and I get excited about what the future of our family will look like.

Jack Everett visits Harcourt

I took the little guy to the office to meet the HR team. It was an eventful hour-and-a-half. Then again, everything is eventful for the two of us.... We see to it!

I needed to conduct a phone interview and schedule a candidate visit, so I decided to go by the office on my day off, toddler in tow. It would only take an hour, so Jack had lunch with his Nana in her work area during her lunch hour. It worked out perfectly. He enjoyed a tour and everyone there has really watched him grow up through his visits to see Nana over the past three years. He especially enjoys seeing "Miss Gwacie."

Last year, on his annual Halloween visit, an employee was dressed as a witch and really scared him. To this day, when we drive up to the building he asks, "Is that witch gonna be here?"

Jack in front of Harcourt. This is the look that "Say cheese!" gets me...

Jack loves these automatic doors at the end of the pedway. This time, Darlene and I let him stand in the doorway and I snapped this picture just before the door closed on him, grabbing his little left ankle! He cried because it scared him, but did not hurt him. We couldn't believe it. Darlene and I looked at each other because we just stood there and watched it happen. I guess he's not heavy enough for the sensors to recognize he's standing there. Oh well. Lesson learned - the hard way.

Nothing that a toy from Nana's desk won't heal.

Jack sits in Mommy's chair - the same chair the lizard ran under (see previous blog.)

He enjoys Mommy's little shrine to Jack Everett on the wall.

After my first hire, I came back to the office and there was this "HR Action Figure" hanging outside my cubicle. My boss Robbi put this "Super Recruiter" there to be silly, but it made me feel welcome and I appreciated it more than she knew. It's pretty funny - "Big Hiring Budget Not Included." Isn't that the truth. :)

"You've got to know when to fold 'em."

"How to Help Your Mom: Lesson One"

by Jack Everett G.

First, meticulously lay out an item from the clean pile.

Second, tightly roll the item from the bottom.

Carefully carry the "folded" item.

Finally, line them up in perfect order along the loveseat.

I have found that Daddys usually prefer that you roll one sock at a time, and sort them with the dish towels.

Then, repeat steps. And repeat steps. And repeat steps.

On a final note, if you find nice laundry piles where Mom has folded clothing in a crisp square-like fashion and sorted it nicely by type, feel free to unfold it all, put it all back into one big pile to "re-fold" each item as I have done here. This saves her a lot of time and is a big help.

"Stay tuned for "How to Help Your Mom: Lesson Two" where I show you how to squirt a bottle of blue foaming hand soap to clean the bathroom rugs. You won't want to miss this sure-fire way to help Mom."

E-mail reply from Danny, thoughts of 9/11

Danny e-mailed me shortly after reading my thoughts on our experience handling World Trade Center claims after September 11th. He did not know I was going to post his e-mail to the blog, but I wanted to record his emotion and perspective as we continue to pay our respects this week.

"Melissa,

To this day I watch specials on 9/11 and I remember those long days with pride and a heavy heart. Do you realize how many people affected by 9/11 we spoke to? How many other people in this world can say that? My wife to this day cannot understand how/why I am so connected with this tragedy. In that sense you and I will forever be linked. Only you, Ed, Christine, Betty, Melissa M. and Richard can possibly know what it was like. Every call was from someone who lost a family member or who lost 50 of their co-workers. We were therapists more than claims adjusters.

I still remember when you insisted on looking up the photo of our member's son. As soon as you saw the picture you burst into tears. Every time a call ended, someone was in tears. Call after call, day after day. It truly was one of the hardest things I have ever done.

The next 2 years I could not work on 9/11. Too many emotions. But if I had to do it again, knowing what I know now................ I wouldn't hesitate. Count me in. That experience changed me forever; and for the better too. I recall calling a member one Sunday evening. He was an elderly gentleman who was claiming some personal effects of his son. After I processed his payment, he asked me why I was working on a Sunday evening. I told him that USAA was working from 7 to 7 every day so we could assist all of our members who had been affected by this tragedy. This man who lost his son then expressed how sorry he was that I had to endure such a grueling schedule to help him!!!! I was floored. I told him, "Sir, you have experienced a far worse tragedy. What I am doing is nothing. It's the least I can do for you". He was so grateful. I will never forget him.

I try to take positives from it as well. Plan for the future but live life every day. Tell your family you love them every day. Stop and enjoy the simple things. Be cautious but not afraid of terrorism. It's hard to balance. My wife finds it odd because her nickname for me is "the rock". I handle crisis well. But I am always somber on and around 9/11. I watched the movie WTC and United 93 and if a special comes on TV I record it and watch it. It's my way of honoring the survivors and those left behind. I feel it's important to know the story, to remember what happened, to never forget and to learn from it.

I talked to these people. You remember. These weren't claims calls. These people told us about their lives. They shared their grief. We were part of their family after that. It seems like I was there standing with them. They were attacked and so was I. Every year it comes flooding back. It never gets easier. But I would not change anything. I was honored to be part of it. It was a small contribution but I think we helped many people move on.

In the middle of all that I received a blessing. On 9/18/01 I found out I was going to be a Dad. How ironic it was to learn of this at a time when I was dealing with so much sorrow. As each year passes I always pause and reflect on the events of that day. The chaos, the fear. The destruction and death. I walked into the USAA break room just as the second tower fell. The room was packed and you could have heard a pin drop. Watching that was was the worst thing I have ever seen and is forever burned into my memory. I will never forget."

Thanks Danny for allowing me to share.

Welcome, Little One...

Baby Evan Scott Robin was born today. Emily delivered her 7 pound little guy this afternoon and is doing really well. I can't wait to see pictures, but had to blog on his actual birthday! I'll never forget Emily visiting me in the hospital when Jack Everett was born. I wish I could be there to see her son today, but that's okay.

God crafted this little boy, held him in His hands for nine months, and calmly guided him into the world today. It was so touching to hear her describe the delivery (In Emily's exact words, it was "easy peezy!") and reminded me of how amazing a woman's body really is.

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Scott and Emily will be amazing parents to Baby Evan. They already are. From the time she found out she was pregnant, she and Scott have been so thankful for the little life who would soon turn them into a family.

About 5 months along, when I asked how she was feeling, I'll never forget when Emily said, "You know, it's hard to complain about the discomforts of pregnancy. It's like winning the lottery, and then complaining about the burden of having all that money."

Congratulations, Em' and Scott... and Happy Birthday, Evan.

Not just another Tuesday...

We have promised we will never forget.

It is so hard to believe that it was six years ago today that we started receiving the most unbelievable calls in our USAA Claims Department. We had not heard the news as it had just happened. I remember seeing droves of people in the hallways crowded around the televisions, and I knew it must be something big. However, our manager instructed us, the New York City Claims Unit, to stay by our phones and take every call. The phones, which usually rang all day, had become eerily silent. We were told that a bomb had hit the World Trade Center in New York, and that we would most likely be getting calls soon. We imagined, as we had not seen any images, and were told not to get on the Internet or leave our desks to look, that we'd be getting calls about damaged cars, clothes, etc. from smoke and/or sprinkler systems. We had no idea.

The initial calls were from people at payphones on the street, who had called the 1-800 line at USAA. They were frantic and crying, and were surrounded by chaos, dust, and screaming. They were asking us to contact their family members to let them know they were safe. What does it say about a company when in a person's darkest hour, he or she thinks first of calling USAA for help? I have always been proud to have worked there, but never more proud than during the few months following 9/11.

It was a few days later that I was chosen, along with my good friend and coworker Danny, to be on the World Trade Center Catastrophe Team. Being chosen for CAT Duty was a huge honor. There were seven of us. The work schedule was 7am to 7pm, 7 days per week until the job was done. I didn't realize at the time that it would be (by far) the hardest work assignment I would ever accept.

It was all run like a special task force. We quickly invented a coding system to indicate USAA members' whose family members were "missing," and those who were killed that day. We learned the streets of the city and huddled over highlighted maps and grids, reviewing New York City websites as more and more neighborhoods were being deemed "uninhabitable" every hour. We memorized street names, complexes, and area terminology to better service those who were calling. We followed every press release and internet report regarding everything from death toll to air quality reports.

In addition to hundreds who were working in the World Trade Center that day, USAA also insured the pilots and co-pilots of all three planes. We covered many passengers on those flights as well. USAA insured almost the entire Secret Service, whose building was completely leveled in the collapse, and dozens of employees at the Pentagon. We replaced their suits, shoes, bikes, office furniture, and vehicles parked beneath the buildings. We took calls from wives, outlining claims lists to include their husbands' briefcases, watches, clothing they had on that morning, etc. Parents claimed some of their children's belongings from luggage on the flights. It was heartwrenching to listen to them call out lists of material things that were lost. In most cases, we just took their word for these claims and values. Most were very thankful, but also very apologetic. They didn't want to be doing this. The fact is, they just wanted their loved ones back, but knew they desperately needed the financial relief too.

These people needed hotel rooms and there were none. They needed clean water and there was none. They needed hope and many times there was none. We offered money, information, tears and a listening ear. Our phones rang off the hook, and sometimes we felt helpless. Some had tiny newborns and children with asthma trying to find clean air or room in hospitals that were overflowing. One by one we helped families settle into hotels or temporary housing, and receipts began to pour in for mattresses, toothpaste, socks, diapers, food, etc. Most had no job as they had lost their offices and some had lost lost entire teams of coworkers as well. They had no idea how long it would be before they'd have income again. We soon started sending reimbursement checks for suits and dresses as they began to attend funerals, sometimes several a day.

As a company, we offered the maximum amount of coverage we possibly could and paid the claims quickly. Other insurance companies did not. Again, I was proud. I felt so good about the work USAA was doing to help these families. As many Americans felt so helpless, I felt lucky that I was in a role where I could actually do something. I just could not imagine what these people were going through. Their stories were heartbreaking. I remember one of the young widows called to tell me that the FBI had found her husband's college class ring in the rubble. She asked that I remove this ring from her claims list, but that I keep her husband on the "missing" roster because she and her family were still holding out hope. I teared up and told her like I told the others, "Of course. Please keep us posted."

My most memorable letter was from New Yorker Maggie Quinn - a true survivor. She had been fighting cancer for over a year and had not been to work in over six months. On Monday, September 10th, 2001, she had been given a clean bill of health from her oncologist and released to return to duty at the U.S. Secret Service. She went back to work for the first time that next morning on September 11th. After the attacks, her escape was dramatic. It was so inspiring to read the letter she wrote about how God had spared her life - two days in a row. A year later, on September 11th, 2002, she wrote me another letter about how she is living out God's purpose in her life.

During that time, many of us had nightmares. Some simply could not sleep. I, like others on the team I later found out, was becoming totally obsessed with 9/11 coverage. I could not get enough. I watched hours and hours of news coverage every evening after work and scanned the Internet into late hours of the night. On our lunch breaks, our manager Ed had to MAKE us stop scrolling down memorial websites as we recognized some of the families with whom we had spoken, and for whom we had cried and prayed. We'd cry on the phone and cry more when we hung up. We'd cry when we got home. Jeff would try to get me to stop. " Why are you putting yourself through this? It's not healthy. You have to get a break from this." It felt like if I stopped watching it, that I was not honoring that it had happened and that people were still missing. I sometimes felt like Americans were already forgetting. I could not understand that. It was weird. I was angry, and grieving, and could not separate myself from it. We talked about it on the team, so USAA brought in professionals and we shared in grief counseling together. We knew we'd all eventually find a "new normal" and would return to healthy everyday living again. At our own pace, each of us did.

I remember that right after the CAT assignment, my focus on my own problems had virtually disappeared. My stresses seemed so incredibly trivial. The United States felt so small, and New York City seemed so close. My heart swelled with patriotism. Like millions of Americans, I promised myself I would not forget that feeling. I was among those vowing to live each day as if it were my last.

I got an e-mail this morning. It was from Danny, who still handles USAA Claims from New York. It read, "Today is still difficult for me. I always think of you on this day. Working on that CAT team is still one of the hardest things I have ever done. I hope you are doing well." I had been thinking of him too.

We all have a story about where we were on September 11th, 2001. I figured writing it down would be the best way to keep from forgetting mine. Someday, we will tell Jack Everett about what happened that day in our country. I have promised myself that I will remember these wives, children, and parents whose lives changed so dramatically one September morning.

To them, it started off as just another Tuesday. Today, it's much more than that to them, and it's more than that to me.

The Harcourt Recruiting Reptile: A Tall Tale

To set the stage a bit: Two weeks ago, it was just a regular day at the office. I was typing away at my desk, doing what I do best... recognizing and recruiting talent and changing people's lives. Okay, so I was making little "MBG" name labels with my LabelMaker. Anyway, this huge brown Iguana, out of nowhere, shoots out from under my chair and runs between my black high heels. I instantly let out a scream... I mean, I calmly delivered an audible alert to the department of a potential hazard, per HR protocol.

I ran into the Longhorn Conference Room, where the HR team had assembled for a Strategic Integration Planning Session. Okay, they were counting raffle tickets and pecan pralines for the upcoming company barbecue. Anyway, I scanned the room to determine whose skill set would best match the urgent task at hand. Dave, who had just survived a 5000-mile RV trip with his wife, 4 kids, St. Bernard, cat, turtle, and guinea pig, was definitely the right choice.

I am all frantic, and my boss Robbi is almost chuckling as I outstretch my arms to show how long the Iguana was. She laughed, that is, until I explained that it had slithered from under my chair straight into HER office. She let out a secondary audible alert causing Phillip to drop his raffle tickets and lose count... again. I assured her that in a moment of clarity after the sighting, I had moved her Louis Vuitton carry-on bag (which she refers to as a purse) to the top of her desk. The relief shone immediately in her face as she opened another praline.

At this time, I decided it was best that I stay in the conference room to continue showing them how huge the creature is, trying to think of what it is called, knowing the Crocodile is its closest relative. All of a sudden, we hear Dave call from Robbi's office, "Crikey, I got it!" Realizing the coast was clear, Patrick got down from the top of the conference table.

Now, this is where the story gets slightly fuzzy.

Whatever Dave did when he grabbed the reptile with his bare hand... (Oh yes, he did.)... Anyway, whatever he did when he picked it up must have caused it to instantly shrink to less than half the size it was when I first saw it. It must be a defense mechanism used by larger species of Iguanas, causing them to shrink when they know they are caught. This allows them to appear smaller and less filling to prey. I mean, when Dave rounded the corner, pinched between his thumb and pointer was this little, brown... lizard. (With a smirk on its face.)

After a feeble attempt at maintaining composure, my team members busted out laughing at me. Martie even went as far as to say, "Awwwww, look Melissa, he's cuuuuute... " I was a tad embarrassed and I don't embarrass easily. But, with the evidence in Dave's hand, it seemed apparent that I had completely spazzed. That day, the Tall Tale of the Recruiting Reptile was born. Each time I re-told the story, the initial Iguana had grown larger and larger in my mind's eye. Funny, each time an HR team member re-told the story, the emerging lizard was smaller and smaller in his or her mind's eye...

So, Tuesday, upon arrival at Harcourt, Jack Everett, who had since heard the Tall Tale of the Recruiting Reptile many times, quickly asked, "Momma, where's the Black Anaconda that was under your chair?" ... Kids, they have such vivid imaginations...

On our way out, we pass the garden and who appears?? None other than the actual Iguana from that infamous day. No lie. I could tell by the sly look of recognition he gave me when he slithered by: It was him. With first-time-Mom speed, I grabbed my ever-handy digital camera just in time to snap this photo evidence before he disappeared into the dense foliage.


This photo eliminates any doubt surrounding the Iguana's size. As is common with Lochness and BigFoot sighting photos, it is often difficult to show scale. Luckily, in this photo, the Palm Tree leaves in the foreground can be used for perspective.

MBG

Trip to Houston for 3 birthdays!

We arrived in Houston at Uncle Bob and Aunt Sandy's on Saturday morning.

Just in case Jack had forgotten that he has now turned three about six times, he was included in another birthday celebration this weekend. He shared in a "Good Things Come in THREE's Party" with his Daddy and cousin, Coby.

Los tres Amigos

Coby's 23! Jack's 3! Jeff's 35!

Aunt Tiff and Uncle Trey got him "Elefun," an elephant with a fan inside that blows little butterflies out of the long trunk.

The kiddos try to catch the butterflies in their little nets.

"Guess who's awesome? ME!"

Deanna shows Jack her Beanie Baby collection. Guess which one is my favorite?

I love this picture of my Dad (PawPaw) and Jack by the pool.

Sunday afternoon we visit Dad's golf course, Meadowbrook Farms.

Jack calls his shot.

Mommy lines up a chip shot with the Junior Iron. What a swing!

Jack the Trick Golfer lines up a skill shot.

He loved riding in the cart with PawPaw.

PawPaw and Jack (holding his golf bag) in front of the clubhouse.

Evander "Trey" Holyfield in the boxing ring on the Wii. It's a new gaming system where the white "remotes" actually control the tennis racquet, golf club, bowling ball, boxing gloves, etc. It gets you off the couch and up in the living room so everyone can laugh at you.

Later that night, Trey and I (in pajamas) lost gracefully to Jeff and Tiff at doubles' tennis. I was a total spaz. You can tell that I kept forgetting that you don't actually have to stand in the "ready position" the whole time. They would all laugh as you could see my player swinging and diving even when the ball was nowhere near her. Jeff actually complained the next night of Tennis elbow, and I have to admit, my thighs were a little sore! Wii are really getting old.

To see all the pics from this fun trip, click here: http://www.kodakgallery.com/ShareLandingSignin.jsp?Uc=s5k5l03.amhtj1yf&Uy=ntgf6p&Upost_signin=Slideshow.jsp%3Fmode%3Dfromshare&Ux=0&UV=551523466703_640096785207