That one time I forgot my password

Remember when you were a kid and your older brother would put his hands and feet against the doorframe to block you from entering the room? "What's the secret password?" he'd taunt but you never could guess the password (deep down inside you knew it was because he kept changing it every time you guessed it) and would inevitably break down in tears.

Or maybe I was the only one that ever happened to.

Anyway, the same thing happened to me this week only it was my computer, not my brother, taunting me. And, of course, I was the one who set the password in the first place.

We've been out of town so long that our neighbours collected an entire brown paper bag of mail for us. Three weeks' worth of mail. That's a lot of mail.

It also means I was away from my computer for three weeks.

The silly thing is that I remembered my password at my parents' house and blogged from there. I remembered my password from my in-laws' house and blogged from there. But then I went back to my parents' house and I could not, for the life of me, remember my password.

There were tears, folks. And a little bit of panic because do you know how much of my life is on Google? My calendar. My documents. My email. My pictures. My blog. All of it out of reach.

How does one just forget their password? How?!

I was texting Andrew like crazy trying to get it figured out while he was hauling the kids back across the country. Eventually we had to give up.

"I'll figure it out when I get home," he promised.

But then he couldn't.

My back up codes weren't in the firesafe (Where are they? I don't know.) and even with our two brains together we still couldn't crack the code. I knew basically what it was, but could only remember exactly what my password was ten months ago. We tried every variation we could think of.

Finally Andrew started asking me my passwords for other applications, probably thinking that if I could remember one password that I would remember another. But I couldn't seem to recall a single password correctly.

Finally he said, "What's your password for xxxxxx?"

"XXX XXXX XXXX," I told him immediately.

He tried it.

"ZOMG!" he texted me. "I'm in!"

Naturally, the G there stands for 'gosh.'

Equally naturally, I suddenly felt at once incredibly stupid and completely relieved.

So I haven't done a lot of blogging this week because I was locked out of blogger, but I'm back now, and my password has returned to its happy little home in my brain. The school year is starting next week and I'm really not sure I've quite recovered from the previous school year, let alone our crazy summer break, so if I forget anything I'm totally blaming baby brain...because I just had a baby (two months ago).

In which Zoë isn't completely unimpressed

Zoë was sitting on my lap on Saturday afternoon and decided that cooing and smiling might, in fact, be interesting. So she gave it a go.

Are you ready for way too many pictures of her not grimacing at the world? Because I took lots.

Monday on Temple Square

Upon hearing that my kids and I were going to be heading west, Auntie Arlene decided to head east (from California), dragging her granddaughter Lexi along to meet us all. That meant that my mom, her brother (who recently returned with his wife from a mission in Mauritius), and one sister would be together, so my mom sent a message to her other sister to coax her down from Canada. She took the bait.

But it gets better because upon hearing that I, my kids, and our aunts would be here, my cousin Elizabeth decided she'd come down from Idaho with her little girl. And so my cousin Mindy (also from California) decided she may as well fly out with her children, too.

So while Andrew's mom's been slaving away planning this family reunion for months and months—we had this trip our calendar since before I fell pregnant with Zoë—my family has been having spontaneous reunions all week long. The food, activities, and accommodation were all a little less well planned and executed than the Anderson reunion will be this weekend, I'm sure, but the people were just as great.

Riley's blessing day

Sunday was Riley's blessing day so we drove down to Payson to attend sacrament meeting at Auntie Sarah and Uncle Cory's ward. Our family took up a few rows—even Aunt Stacey came out (from San Diego now (she recently moved back there from New York))! We stopped by Aunt Sarah's house just before church to drop off some folding chairs and have a quick visit.

Here are the great-aunts with the babies (Aunt Nikki is holding Zoë while Aunt Stacey plays with Riley):

Independence Day

In the morning of the fourth we went to Grandma and Grandpa's ward's pancake breakfast. The kids walked from the school to the church in a parade led by a police car (which totally made Benjamin's day).

Ucky-Mucky Augie

Last night I remembered two stories about our candy bomber day that I forgot to blog about but this morning I can only remember one of them, so I guess I'll tell that one and simply mourn the loss of the other one (until it comes back to me).

We were driving down to Orem for the first time this trip and Benjamin watched as Utah Valley opened in front of us, revealing a sparkling expanse of water.

"Uh-oh!" he said. "I see Mississippi 'izzy!"

I guess when they were in Nauvoo Andrew convinced the kids he was going to drive the van right into the Mississippi River and Benjamin thought it was a funny joke. (In the following pictures of the children standing in the Mississippi River, I'm told the van is parked just out of the frame and that Daddy kept inching closer and closer and closer before he parked while the kids were screaming their heads off...)

Standing in the Mississippi River, June 30

Candy Bomber

Back in high school I took a US history class and in that class was the grandson of Gail Halvorsen, aka Uncle Wiggly Wings, the candy bomber. Can I remember the name of the boy in my class? Nope.  I only remember that he's the candy bomber's grandson. He lives in Orem now and he's coming up on his 95th birthday so to celebrate the Fourth of July this year the city coordinated a commemorative flight over Orem and he dropped 1000 chocolate bars to a lucky few.

We went down to Orem to watch, but before we did we stopped by Naanii and Bumpa's house so that everyone else could see the kids.

Benjamin was quite excited to go to their house.

Reunited and it feels so good

On Thursday I said goodbye-for-now to my family (which is infinitely easier than goodbye-until-who-knows-when) and my mom drove Zoë and me up to Salt Lake.

Here's my dad saying goodbye to Baby Zo:

Canada Day

We didn't actually do much for Canada Day. We do live in the USA, after all, and we didn't have any children begging to do anything fun so I believe we all took lovely naps and my mom and I tried to plan a girls' night out with Josie (but her friend Theresa came into town so instead Josie had a girls' night out with her).

My mom had previously texted Josie to ask if she wanted to go see a "chick flick" that evening and then a while later I texted her to ask if she wanted to go to the movies with us.

"Hmmm. Maybe," she texted back. "And, yeah. I will go to chick gil a with you guys."

Silly autocorrect.

"Hmmm. Chick-Fil-A," she texted next.

"Are we going there?" I asked. "We already have dinner made. You must be talking to someone else, too...?"

"Nope. I'm confused," Josie wrote back.

"No one said Chick-Fil-A," I told her.

She sent me a screen shot of her phone, showing the conversation she'd had with our mom, and must have gone back to read it herself while I was reading it because next thing I know she texted to me, "Ohhhh! A CHICK FLICK!"

"Hahahahaha!" I said.

"I was so confused why you would want to go there."

"Don't worry; Mom and I were confused as well."

"I don't even like Chick-Fil-A," Josie admitted.

"I've never been," I told her.

"It's so greasy!" she said and then she asked if I minded if she went to hang out with her friends, which was totally fine, of course.

Uncle David came over to hang out with us instead.

Meeting Naanii and Bumpa

Zoë and I arrived in Utah early on Sunday afternoon and everyone showed up to meet us. Uncle Patrick, Auntie Josie, and Naanii were waiting for me at baggage claim while Bumpa drove around and around in the pick-up line waiting to pick us up in his new van (he was tail-ended a little while ago and the Sunfire was totaled). It was a little weird to be picked up in a car I didn't recognize. My parents had had the Sunfire for just about fifteen years on the nose. They bought it when we first moved to Utah while David and I were at ballroom dance camp (and rooming in the dorms), so when they picked us up on the last night it was in a car I didn't recognize—the Pontiac Sunfire—and now the Sunfire has gone to the big racetrack in the sky and I was again picked up in a car I didn't recognize.

The craziest part about that story—for me—is that it means my family has lived in the United States for fifteen years! That's half my life (though I did take some time off to live in Russia, Jordan, and Egypt) and I still don't feel entirely Americanized ('cuz I'm not, I suppose).

Anyway, here is Zoë being held by Bumpa Bruce for the first time. I don't know who was more excited about it (wait—yes, I do—it was Bumpa (Zoë is difficult to excite)). We had to take a picture with Naanii in it, too, because all three of them dressed in pink!