What a Week!

We don't do anything small around here. Because having Greg, Garrett and Abby sick all of last week wasn't enough fun, I decided to take a tumble down the stairs last Sunday morning (while holding Garrett) and break my leg/ankle. Awesome, I know. Luckily, Garrett wasn't injured and I have been able to wear a boot instead of a cast and can walk on it as long as I can tolerate the pain. I'm feeling very blessed that I'm able to get around enough to at least take care of my family. I should make a full recovery in 6-8 weeks and am grateful to already have one week and 2 days over with!

Much thanks to our wonderful family and friends who have been so great to help us--especially my mom who has pretty much put her life on hold to cater to my every need.

Sleeping in Garrett's big boy bed is going just splendid. Here's how we found him one night after he had been "in bed" and "asleep" for an hour or so. I know this is a battle worth fighting, but some nights I wonder...

We enjoyed a wonderful Pioneer Day weekend! Greg's family spent the weekend with us and they were able to experience the town celebration in all of its splendor. I don't think any of them will ever be the same again.

Mal Pal and I started our Saturday bright and early by participating in the Dam Run. (By "participating" I mean that Mal ran the race with my friend Karlie while I cheered them on at the finish line.)


Next, we headed "downtown" for the annual "parade." Garrett has his game face on and is ready to roll. Bring on the candy!

The town's most eligible bachelor, Deese, has been the official flagbearer of the parade (via horseback) for as long as I can remember.

Garrett was much more interested in the sirens and horses than the treats. Lucky for him, Uncle Eric was there to teach him the fine art of gathering parade candy. He ended up with a nice loot.

Miss Abby enjoyed the parade with Aunt Chelsea.

Somehow my Aunt Claudia ended up on this "float" honoring the town firefighters who had worked for Thiokol. My grandpa, Claude Petersen, was listed on the first car. Go Butch!

We were fortunate to have our good friends, the Standing family, join us for the day. Matt, Parker, Aaron, and Mal partied it up big time.

The foursome pictured above joined a volleyball team with our friends, Karlie and Braden and their cousin Andy, and competed in the annual "beach" volleyball tournament. They were awesome and totally smoked their first match, but were unfortunate enough to meet the infamous Benson Family a few rounds later. (The Bensons are kind of like the Lakers. They have a dynasty of sorts going and win the tournament every year. It's kind of just a formality to let everybody play and think they actually have a chance of winning.)

Garrett loved just playing on the swings with his number one man.

And of course, he was able to coerce Pops into a "sip." After all, it was a hot day!

Shake, shake, shake--shake it Mal Pal!!!

Unfortunately, Garrett's little hips didn't swing quite like Aunt Mal's, but he sure tried.

"The kids" (meaning anybody under the age of 25) headed down to the river bridge for a little jumping to cool off. The youngest jumper of all was cute little Meg, who is only 9 or 10. What a brave gal! Due to my crippled status, I was forced to watch from the sidelines as photographer/motherly influence. Bummer. Don't worry, I'll be jumping next year! (Although we'll have to raise the age limit a bit.)

Check out Matt's form!

Go Aaron!

We finished the day with horse rides and a delightful dutch oven dinner and homemade ice cream, compliments of Bishop Standing and Wild Willy. Cute Meg said it best while we were eating, "I'm going to remember this day for as long as I live--in a good way!"

Greg and I topped off the weekend by speaking in Church on Sunday. Of course, I totally overdid it with my leg over the weekend and could barely move yesterday, but such is life. At least we were having fun, right?

For your viewing pleasure...

Cute Karlie and Mal Pal dashing for the finish!

Oh yeah, and while I'm at it I might as well add that Greg and I spent the day at the hospital getting tests run to figure out why he keeps getting sick. (He has been sick since the beginning of June and it's getting old.) We've been in and out of our family doctor's office about a billion times in the past few weeks. After his fever spiked at 105 degrees last night, they sent us to the hospital today to get some tests run in an effort to figure out what is going on and get him functioning again. Approximately 17 hours and 3.5 million dollars later, they determined he has an infection in his intestines called clostridium difficile. He is on medication that should fix the problem, but the doctor told us he will probably be good and sick for a few more days. Fabulous.

It's kind of like the blind leading the blind around here--a broken-legged wife and a sick husband trying to care for a wild two year old and his very cute, but sometimes whiny, little sister.

It could be worse. I could be like the lady (who couldn't have been much older than 45) who checked her husband in after us at the hospital today and said, "We've got to figure out what's wrong with him. I've already buried two husbands and don't want to lose another one." YIKES!

Life is good.

And I'm going to bed.

Adios!