Jens Nielsen Family Reunion

When you think of a family reunion, do you have the same thoughts as me???? ......

Relaxing at a park under the shade of an enormous maple. Eating original recipe Kentucky Fried Chicken, potato salad, corn on the cob, and Aunt Edna's homeade brownies. Reminiscing about old times with grandpa and grandma. Overhearing the gleeful giggles of nieces, nephews and younger cousins competing in potato-sack races. The occasional clink of a ringer, (or thud of a horse-shoe in the sand), as Uncle Jack passes on the family tradition of tossing horse-shoes to the rising generation. Catching up on the comings and goings of a multitude of cousins who seem as excited about your life as you are theirs?

Well, wouldn't that be nice...

The Jens Nielsen family reunion is nothing like this (and never has been as far as I'm concerned)--except for the KFC.
Each year in August, we make the long pilgrimage to the same park in Riverton. We even use the exact same terrace at the park. True the drive is only about an hour, but it seems like an eternity. It's amazing how time seems to stand still when you know your entire evening is going to be sucked down the drain and you don't have the power to bring it back.

My dad has one sister, who has one daughter. Their two families, and my hearing impaired grandmother who is rapidly losing the battle of senility (bless her heart), are the only people we know at the reunion. She might even be the only survivor from Jens Nielsen's immediate family. And we only chit chat with them for a few minutes. I actually don't know anybody else at the entire reunion. In fact, I wouldn't recognize any of them if I ran into them today and the reunion was only a week ago. For all I know, they could've been complete strangers who were playing at the park and happened to wander over for free lemonade and a good time.

So all my siblings (who live about 15 minutes from each other) head down to this park in Riverton to hang out together. Except for Brother-in-law Trent whose prayers were answered this year when his family offered to take him waterskiing (coincidently I'm sure) on the same day as the Nielsen reunion. That sucker. His parting words to my sister were, "I'll try to make it back in time for dinner." Yeah right. We'll save you some chicken just in case--the drumstick nobody wants. Well that's nice. We promised our kids Asha and Ty would be there for them to play with, but they went with Trent. All I could do was shake my head in amazement and ask, "Sherra, why on earth didn't you go with them?"

If my siblings are like me, the sole reason they go each year is to prevent a guilt trip from my dad (Tom). (The notable exception is Shane, my younger brother who couldn't care less what Tom thinks but noticed a couple of years ago that a couple of the Nielsen-related clan were attractive young women in their late teens or early twenties. What hasn't actually occured to him--at least I hope it hasn't--is that even though we don't know any of them, WE ARE FREAKIN RELATED!!!!) Tom rarely gets excited about any family outing--at least not with my mom's side of the family. But for some reason he gets real stoked about his Grandpa Jens Nielsen's family reunion. He pretends he knows some of the people there. But he never really introduces us to any of them. I believe it's cause he thinks we'll find out they don't really know who he is.

Of course, there is the awkward moment every year when Tom or Aunt Carol have to stand up and introduce us to everyone not looking up from their dinner. Seriously, nobody even looks up; everyone keeps right on eating. Except for me. That's usually when I have to run to the Yukon to get "something". This year I managed to need my baseball and glove right at the moment when the awkward introductions were approaching our table. Didn't even occur to anyone that nobody else had a glove. Nothing like playing catch with yourself at the Jens Nielsen family reunion. Jess didn't even realize I was gone. She was busy pretending to feed Jayson without looking up.

This year was even more fun. We got to help out. I actually have to give Aunt Carol credit for making this the best reunion in years. She put in a ton of work, but still felt obligated to follow the same format we've followed for years. Eat in your own family unit. Awkward introductions. Games for the kids. (Our game was easy. Jess is brilliant. We just dumped a bunch of candy and small toys all over the grass and called it a treasure hunt. It was over in 1 1/2 minutes. Kids were happy. So were we.) The grand finale--The annual door prize giveaway.

This is where Aunt Carol pulled way ahead from her predecessors. Everyone there seemed to love the door prizes. I lost my ticket and thus forfeited my door-prize eligibility. I never even went up to the table to see what was there. I just believe Jess's testimony that this year the prizes were better. My older sister Shelly was sure her number wouldn't get called. She had a gut instinct. So she went up to the front and monitored Tom (over his shoulder) as he read the tickets. Sure enough, hers was the only number not called. Supposedly. My hunch is it was called at one of the moments when she was standing up there not paying attention. She did dig through the pile of called tickets and still couldn't find it. Poor thing. She actually likes the prizes every year. Would've been a shame if her brother (or someone) pulled her matching ticket stub from the drawing before it started. Definitely would've been a shame.

My collection of door prizes from the past: a hand knitted afgan (not sure if I spelled this right.) A plastic tissue box holder decorated with pink and green yarn, coconut-scented Suave shampoo, and a tin filled with hard-tack candy. In years past, it hasn't really mattered if my number was drawn first or last, the prizes all typically seem more suited for women. Probably cause they're usually made by women, for women.

The door-prize giveaway came early this year, thanks to the pouring rain that cut the kids games short--in fact, ours was the last game prior to the rain. I asked Tom if Jens Nielsen would want us to continue in spite of the rain and dangerously close lightning. I was disappointed to find out Jens would have wanted things to continue--at least according to Tom.

Carol's only mistake--allowing Tom to MC. His humor attempts were ill-fated. At times he would overhear conversation from my siblings at our table and respond or comment about it through the microphone for everyone else's listening pleasure. Nice. Good thing most people just kept eating and didn't seem to hear him.

The positives: The food was good. So was the snowcone. Our game finished quickly. Kids seemed to have fun. Trent had a good time waterskiing. Nobody got hit in the face with the baseball bat my sister brought for the pinata. It ended earlier than normal (at least for us). Tom's stint as reunion MC is over. Carol can rest for another 5 or 6 years (she did waaaay more work pulling it together than Tom--which I guess is to be expected).

The best positive: I made a formal announcement to Tom that this would be the last Jens Nielsen family reunion my little family would attend (and I blamed it on Jess--because he likes her way more than he does me and won't hold a grudge towards her). Nothing like one full year of advanced notice. My guess is Jens Nielsen would've respected that.

The Best Big Sister Ever

Last night when I got home from work, Jess was still suffering from a 48 hour migraine. After dinner I tried to get her to go upstairs to take a hot bath. Jess is convinced a hot bath will cure anything (probably even cancer). So I knew this is what she needed.

It was really easy to get her to stop trying to clean up after dinner and go take a bath. After I hog-tied her, carried her up the stairs over my shoulder like a 110 pound bag of flour and barricaded the bathroom door, I believe she took a bath (the girls at least reported that she was in there with a book).

I decided I should mow the lawn or my OCD wife would try to do it today while I'm at work. I asked Tayler if she would keep Rylee and Jayson busy playing in the yard while I mowed the lawn. She agreed. However, I was only halfway done with the front yard when I noticed little Jayson wandering towards me. Alone. Tayler and Rylee were nowhere to be found. So I stopped mowing, picked him up, and waited for Tayler to remember she left him alone. I also couldn't help but think 'she's got to be the worst baby sitter in the world.'

She came out of the house a minute later and didn't have time to say a word before I questioned where she was and how on earth she could leave Jayson alone. What if I hadn't seen or heard him over the mower and he wandered out in the street? She looked down at the ground and then explained that Rylee had fallen, cut open her knee and was crying and bleeding. So she hurried and helped her into the house so Mom could take care of her and thought Jayson would be OK since I was out in the yard too. "I thought I better help Rylee, Daddy".

Good one Sean. I backtracked faster than bulldog who thought he'd sniff a porcupine. "Tayler, you did the right thing. Thank you for helping Rylee". She played with Jayson until I was finished with the yard and then took him inside. When I came in, she was sitting with him on the couch with her arm around him watching a cartoon. "Tayler, you did a good job baby sitting. Thank you, Sweetheart."
"Except for when I left Jayson and went inside with Rylee."
"Nope. You knew I was in the yard with him. You did the right thing. You are the best big sister to Rylee and Jayson"

I asked her to run upstairs and get on her PJs. As she handed Jayson over to me, he leaned back towards her and opened his mouth. (Yep. He has a preference for open mouth kisses. Look out ladies. This little Dunroe boy likes to cuddle.) He kissed her right by her mouth. Even he knows what a good big sister he's got.

Tayler got a little embarrassed. "Daddy, sometimes Jayson tries to kiss me on the lips".

Me: "He's a little silly. I guess he thinks he needs to practice."

(Quizzical look from Tayler.)

Me: "Nevermind. Will you get Jayson's jammies too. And a diaper. And a throw-up bowl for Dad?"


Clarifying note: I have a very sensitive gag reflex. When the diapers are really messy, I often gag, and gag, and gag. Nothing more than that. Just gagging. Saturday as Tayler watched me change a severly messy diaper I gagged. "Do you want me to go get you a bowl Daddy?"
'Not a bad idea Tay'.

Smash This! French Guy

I doubt any of the two people who read my blog care much about swimming, but tonight the Americans won the greatest relay in history.

The French came into the 4 x 100 freestyle relay heavily favored to win. Their anchor is the current world-record holder and grade-A trash-talker Alain (surnamed something French). He promised his relay team would "smash the Americans". On paper, the French were heavy favorites. In Michael Phelps quest to beat Mark Spitz's olympic record for gold medals, this was predicted to be the toughest conquest.

Phelps led off with an American record time but the French passed the next two American swimmers and held a half-body length lead heading into the final leg. The problem was the US anchor, Jason Leizak had to try to catch the current world record holder Alain "trash-talking" (French last name). Impossible. Especially after Alain extended the lead to a full body length heading into the turn.

However, Leizak did the unthinkable. He caught Alain in the last 10 meters and touched him out at the wall. Leizak swam the fastest 100 meter relay split in history. The Americans destroyed their own world record and beat the French by .07 seconds. So long Frenchies! The Americans celebrated the unbelievable win. The French stood silent in dazed disbelief (then promptly surrendered).

It really was something to behold. Amazing!

Sunday Thought -- Holiness to the Lord

After a wedding reception at the Lion House on Friday night, we took a stroll by the fountains and saw the temple just after sunset.

A Child's Prayer and Father's Wisdom

Tonight Jess and I were reflecting on a classic child prayer from a few weeks back.

Since Tayler pierced her ears, Rylee has repeatedly told us that she's not going to get her ears pierced. She's also realized that she can easily hurt Tayler's feelings by telling her that she doesn't like her anymore. So she says that a lot. A few weeks ago Tayler was talking about how she was excited to get baptized when she turns eight. In typical defiance, and to frustrate her OCD older sister, Rylee informed Tayler that she was not getting her ears pierced and "not getting baptized".

That night as Jess and Tayler knelt in prayer, Tayler sincerely pleaded with the Lord, "please help Rylee to accept the gospel and be baptized". (The way Rylee has been acting towards her lately, I would have expected the prayer to be, "Please help Rylee to stop being such a snotty little brat").

Last night Tayler came into my room crying because Rylee was being mean to her and telling her that she didn't like her anymore. I asked Tayler if she really thought Rylee didn't like her. She didn't really seem to have an answer. I tried another wise Fatherly tactic, "Don't worry about it. She doesn't mean it. If you act like it doesn't bother you she'll stop doing it." (My originality as a father is quite astounding. My kids are soooo lucky I can come up with such brilliant, thought-provoking anectdotes?) Tayler went away, slightly disappointed, I'm sure, that I didn't have more to offer. As Tayler returned to the bathroom where she had previously been verbally insulted by her three-year-old sister, I heard Rylee calmly ask, "What Daddy say Tayler?" (She wasn't the slightest bit worried that she might be in trouble. Merely curious as to what I had to offer.)

Tayler's answer demonstrated the deep impact my words of wisdom often have on her life. "I don't know."

Another Tayler classic: One night before bed Tayler and I read some scripture stories and she asked me a question about a church-related topic. I explained the gospel principle to her, and shared with her my feelings about it. After I finished, she looked at me for a moment longer and then added, "Daddy, you say those things in the name of Jesus Christ amen". Apparently, Tayler recognizes a testimony when she hears one and apparently has been listening a bit in sacrament meeting as she colors pictures for Jess and I.

Back to Work

Well, the Dunroe family is back from Utah's Dixie.
We spent a week baking in the sun and swimming in a very cool pool. We had absolutely no agenda and so we just relaxed. It was awesome. I love my family. We had such a great time together. The girls were sad to come home.
We also got to see our good friends the Millers. Sure miss not having them a block away.
I was supposed to work on my project for school but only worked on it for an hour and a half. Sweet! I barely feel guilty. Well, I guess I do now, but I didn't then.
I worked out every day for 2-3 hours and only lost two pounds. But I'm trying hard not to be discouraged.
Had to work again yesterday. I was a little rusty at it after a week off.
But developing health insurance products is a lot like riding a bike...

For the first time.
Without training wheels.
With no helmet, no knee or elbow pads.
Wearing shorts.
With a dad that's too slow to keep up once you take off.
On an asphalt parking lot with a plethora of sharp little rocks.
It's a good time.
The best part is, my scabs should be healed just in time for another ride on Monday morning.

...And if my collar bone still hurts like mad this time next Friday, my dad may take me to the Instacare for an x-ray. After all, why pay the $25 copay if it might get better on it's own?


Random insurance thought:
Shortly after my mission, I played tackle football with a bunch of guys on Thanksgiving day. I broke my arm in half. My friends took me to the nearest hospital. My dad met me in the ER with my University of Utah Student Insurance plan info in his hands. The nurse figured out it was broken when she asked me to move it (the fact that I told her I heard it crack wasn't enough of a clue, she had to move it and make the bone stick out for herself), so they were waiting for an orthopedic surgeon to come in to treat me. I was a little dizzy from the Demerol drip they gave me to dull the pain. My dad didn't say much when he got there. After a few minutes he looked up from the insurance papers and said, "If we leave right now, and drive up to University hospital, you might save a couple hundred dollars".

Who could blame him? University Hospital was only a half hour away (and the Demerol was making me dizzy).

My Little Buddy is One!

Being raised as the only boy with four sisters took its toll. My parents finally had another boy when I was 15, but it seemed a little too late for me. I also grew up feeling a lot of pressure that there is not another son to carry on the Dunroe family name (at least not from this branch of the tree).

I was so excited when Jayson arrived. One year later, I can hardly believe it. He is the happiest little guy I have ever met. When he gets really excited, he flaps his arms and laughs really loud. This picture below captures him laughing, flapping, and walking towards me (quite the multi-tasker).


Happy Birthday Buddy! We are sure glad to have you in our family. Especially me. There has been quite an imbalance of estrogen and emotion in this little household. Thanks for balancing things out a bit. Can't wait till mom decides we can bring you home a little brother!