I have two of them! We baked cookies last night for FHE. Everyone had a good time and yes cookie dough WAS harmed in the making of these pictures.

Enjoy!

Contrary to popular belief, I was a good kid growing up. I generally did what I was told and behaved myself. Of course, I did have my quirks and nuances but for the most part, I was good. A Saint by today’s standards. One thing I didn’t quite do so well was listen to my dad.

When I was young, my dad wanted me to play basketball. By about 5th grade however, I was deeply immersed in soccer. I loved the game. I thought it was the bees knees. There wasn’t a season that I didn’t sign up for. Me and the fellas made it early to the grade school playground in order to get more soccer time in.

As I moved from grade school (really, the peak of my soccer glory years) to Junior High, I tried out and made the school team. What a thrill. We had a great year in which I believe we played for the championship.

During this time period, I vividly recall my dad wanting me to play basketball. Being the know-it-all son of a gun (I was going to cuss but Juli is not happy with me right now) that I was, I resisted all attempts to get me to play basketball. I kept insisting that soccer was going to hit it big in America and that there would be plenty of opportunities to become a soccer star. (Wish I could take those thoughts back)

Anyways, I quickly came to the realization that I was not that good. I don’t know if it was that I couldn’t get out of the way of my own feet or if the little Mexican boys that tried out for the team were just that much better than me. As I looked forward, I saw the writing on the wall. A white boy on a team with a bunch of Mexican boy’s that could run circles around me. Not going to happen. My only shot was to be the token white boy but that didn’t happen either. So, I began looking at basketball.

My dad went and played down at the Del Rio building in Chandler every Monday, Wednesday and Friday at 5:30am. I began going with him. I must have only been 14 or so at the time and I was awkward as all get out. I was used to kicking the ball not bouncing it. Touching the ball with your hands was, well, forbidden! As I went though, and they started to let me play because they were sometimes short a person, I began to really love it. The guys that played were super nice and generally patient with me. My confidence began to grow.

Fast forward a few years. Ok, maybe not a few but that issue has been well document already. Fast forward to now and I love to play the game of basketball. In moving to Utah, I thought, “oh boy! I am moving to basketball heaven!” Little did I know that was not the case. I was told that we needed to move farther south. Well, we moved farther south. The other Saturday, I drove around to no less than 7 stake centers looking for a pickup game. I finally found one but it was already late and they were pretty much done. As I complained to a friend in the ward that no one played basketball in our area, he mentioned some guys play just down the street from me each Monday, Wednesday, and Friday morning. WHAT!? They even play at 5:30am. I became excited and each day they were playing I would say the night before, I am going to go tomorrow. Umm, did you know that 5:30am is really early? It is. Trust me.

So long story short, I am back to playing basketball Monday, Wednesday and Friday. I am not that good and if I had listened to my dad and started when I was younger, I probably would be in the NBA by now. I’m pretty sure of it.

I love my girls. From the littlest to the biggest. Each day I get a reminder of how wonderful they are. Let me tell you a few stories about them.

Joslin my youngest is a little princess. Today she brought Juliette her makeup and said, “Mom! Make me a princess! I need makeup on!” I immediately said, “NO! No makeup on until you’re sixteen!” I have never seen a body crumple to the floor so fast. She was literally a limp rag doll on the floor completely heartbroken by her mean ol’ dad. Sobbing and with pleading eyes, she turned to her momma to plead her case. I turned my head to continue with my delicious dinner that my wonderful wife made when all of the sudden the crying stopped. “Hmm, that’s unlike her” I thought. I didn’t quite see it but I suspect that “momma” put some lipstick on her princess. UPDATE** Just confirmed, Juli did in fact place some lipstick on that girl to make her into a princess. Good to know that I am not the only softie when it comes to Jos the Boss the mighty mighty princess.

Both Joslin and Hailey are special special girls. Each has a distinct personality and way of doing things. One thing they do that is very similiar however is they like to mother things. Hailey mother’s her animals and plays with them all the time. Joslin likes to mother her dolls and make sure that they are covered in blankets and not cold. A few weeks ago, I came home and as I was getting out of my car, I twisted my back just right. By the time I got into the house I was in pain. I slowly climbed the stairs like a decrepit old man and barely made it to bed. As I laid there, Joslin came in to ‘check’ on me. She was asking all sorts of questions and genuinely concerned for my well being. Every so often she would kiss my arm or cheek and ask if that made me feel better. Of course it warmed my heart but my back, well I didn’t have the heart to tell her that it still hurt. After a few minutes of this, I figured she got tired of me because she abruptly left the room. I closed my eyes trying not to concentrate on the pain and I slowly drifted off. (It had been a long day after all!) All of the sudden I felt wetness on my forehead. As I groggily and grouchily came to, I realized that it was Joslin kissing me on the forehead. Having drifted off for my 5 o’clock nap, I didn’t realize that Jos came back into the room. She had come back with a doll and one of her favorite pink blankets. I was snug as a bug wrapped in her blanket with a doll sitting on my chest. She was sitting next to me and had been kissing me better. And people wonder why I am wrapped around her little pinky finger!

That was my kissin’ story. Now for the cussin’ story.

Juli and I gave away our TV’s before we moved to Utah. The events surrounding said TV giveaway are pretty well documented here.. To compensate for the loss of that entertainment we turned to the internet. Yes, I know, the internet, that magical and mysterious place where all your dreams can come true. At least that is what the brochure from that multi-level marketing company promoting a miracle drink that cures everything from Asthma to Zinc Deficiency Dermatitis said. Anyways, Juli and I found a wonderful website called Hulu.com. They show our favorite TV programmes on the interwebs! w00t!

So Juli and I have been closet TV watchers since giving our real TV’s away. It has been great because we don’t have to be slaves to a time frame. We can watch our favorite shows anytime we want. Sorry back to the story. Juli and I are watching a TV programme the other night and boom! A cuss word. Not a bad one, in fact it’s pretty common for this particular piece of profanity to be played on the airwaves. This word however was said in a funny context. Let me clarify, it was the way in which the word was said and the saying with out the word would have been meaningless. Lo and behold, Juli starts busting up laughing! Now, I am shocked. I have been married to this lady for nigh 11 years this March and I am speechless. Anyone who knows Juli, knows that she is the most kind and caring and righteous do-gooder you will ever meet. Well now you know her dirty dark secret. Her flaw, if you will, is that cussin’ doesn’t bother her and sometimes it even makes her laugh. Next time you see her, walk up to her and cuss at her. See what she does. There is a good chance she will giggle.

As I thought about this incident and reflected on past incidents, I realized that this was not the first time such an event had occurred. I remember one time back in 2002 when we were in the theater watching The Adventures of Pluto Nash starring Eddie Murphy, that a cuss word was said and Juli busted up laughing. It wasn’t even that funny.

Now, I am not talking major profanity you would hear at a Sam Kinnison show nor am I talking about ‘farm language’. I am talking your every day bible swearing that cracks her up. Sometimes I intentionally select scriptures like Genesis 22:3 just so I can hear Juli swear in front of the children. So please don’t walk up to her and drop an F-bomb. That would not be funny. As I wrote this, I actually imagined someone doing that and thought, “Hey that probably would be funny.” But please, still don’t do it. Unless I am around with my camera in hand and can get a picture of the moment.

As you have read this, you might have thought to yourself, ‘Wow, that was bold of Brandon to out Juli like that!” Well it was, and I am pretty darn sure that it is going to be a cold night tonight. I had to tell this story though. Why you ask? Well, a few weekends ago, we went out with some really good friends of ours and the subject came around to family blogs. The consensus was that reading about peoples perfect lives was well, boring and nonsensical. You can’t connect with perfection and it disingenuous to say the least.

I wrote this post to show that the Beecroft’s are not perfect. They are funny and quirky and shy and outgoing and just plain crazy everyday folk. To make things fair, I plan on posting a pretty embarrassing story about my addiction to Little House on the Prairie. That Michael Landon has to be like the 14th or 15th best actor of all time. Not to mention his directorial skills! Plan on reading that in the not too distant future.

I love photography. For me, when I see the images I have taken come up on screen, it’s like Christmas. Did I get the image that I wanted? Is it something I will cherish, or is it another pair of socks from Grandma? Not that there is anything wrong with socks from Grandma. In most cases, it’s those mundane yet ever so practical images that we remember most. They help us remember things as they really were.

That being said, I am always looking for the gems, those fleeting moments that occur once. Capture that and I feel like I am on top of the world. It’s amazing that photographers can spend their whole life capturing these moments and in the end, it only amounts to a few hours. Yet the images taken represent so much more than that.

One of the reasons I bought my camera was because I had a class at school. I was tired of waiting for my turn on the ’school’ camera so I convinced Juli that I needed one to be successful in that class. That was a long hard fought battle but I finally passed that measure through the appropriations committee. I quickly learned that I could justify my camera purchase by saving some money on family pictures. I mean really, you get all dressed up, go to a mall somewhere and have some teenager who doesn’t care about you, snap a few photos in front of a cheesy starry night backdrop and then pay lots of money for the privilege? Really? No thanks.

Fast-forward a few years and it has become so much more. John Loengard once said,

“Perishability in a photograph is important in a picture. If a photograph looks perishable we say, Gee, I’m glad I have that moment.”

That’s how I feel about the following moment. Hailey received a cute hat and scarf for Christmas. Unfortunately she will never wear it. It’s too much sensory input for her to handle. Joslin on the other hand put it right on and proceeded to act like a little princess. Ever since seeing that, I knew that there was a picture that needed to be captured. Once we got back from Christmas vacation, I decided to get this picture I had in my head out and shared. The other night we sat down for a session with Joslin and the following ‘perishable’ moment occurred.

I hope it brings a smile to your face as it did mine.

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You can see a larger version of this photo and more from this session by visiting my newly redesigned photoblog at: 47Syndrome

A funny thing happened to me this morning, I woke up fat and old. Now you might be of the opinion that age is something that doesn’t matter, unless you are a cheese or bottle of whiskey and to a certain extent that might be true. But right now, in this instant, it hurts. It really hurts. Mainly because my sisters have been sending really mean text messages about how old I am today.

I guess turn about is fair play. I tease them incessantly on their birthdays. My favorite is when I keep saying the same thing over and over but each time I raise my voice a little louder until I am screaming. That’s a classic and even though they curse at me by the time the joke is over, I know they are laughing. Of course that laughing could be dementia and senility on their part or mine.

Speaking of jokes, have you heard the one about the little old man that sat on this porch when an elderly lady walked up and asked, “I couldn’t help notice how happy you looked. What is your secret for such a long happy life?”

The little old man replied, “Well I drink 1500 ounces of Dr. Pepper a day, I never exercise and I eat most of my meals at Burger King or McDonalds.”
Shocked, the little old woman replied, “That’s amazing! How old are you?”

“26”

Umm, I forgot where I was going with this……
…..
…..

Oh yeah. That could be described as me. I’m probably half a happy meal away from an early exit. Gotta change that and change that soon.

Another thing I gotta changes is being more diligent in writing on this blog. Hopefully you haven’t noticed that the last meaningful post was back in October of last year! Holy Cow! And by the way, I work for the church and in no certain terms it was made very clear to me that there is no such thing as a holy cow. Anyways, the last meaningful post was quite some time ago. What happened during Thanksgiving, our Christmas trip to Arizona, or all the renovations we have done on the house? Well, all I can say is that I have nothing. Hopefully good records were kept in Heaven so that we an all look back and reminisce. A lot has happened and lots of time has passed and I don’t really remember all that occurred. And the things I do remember I don’t feel like writing down. Remember I am a crotchety old man now. Suffice it to say, life is good. We are healthy and looking forward to this year. Here’s to a happy and fun 2009!

Or 2010, depending on if you remember what year it is!

(Now where did I place that 44oz Dr. Pepper?)

Noah the human snow plow. His last comment before we finished… I like shoveling snow dad.

That’s good son. Real good. Just remember that when you get older!

Shortly after taking family pictures 2 weeks ago, we stopped off the side of the road on the way home because Noah begged and pleaded with Juli and I to let him climb on some huge boulders on the side of the mountain.

(we should have named him Billy and called him Billy the mountain goat!)

It was cold but we decided to let him out and climb around for a few minutes. As I watched him climb I was reminded of a photography meetup that was going to occur the following weekend in a place called Goblin Valley. The group would be going down on Saturday for a day trip. Well I got the brilliant idea to go down the night before with Noah, climb around the hoodoos and have some fun before the snow comes.

Fastforward one week and the day has come to take off for Goblin Valley. Being the mean dad that I am, I was only planning on taking Noah and have a guys only camping trip. Well once Hailey saw us packing and Noah let it slip that we were going camping she was so excited and basically said, “I can’t wait to go camping with you guys!” My heart melted and Juli gave me those eyes like, “You better not EVEN think about leaving your daughter behind!” I was up for it but we had 2 problems. One, Noah and I have traditionally slept in the back of the Durango on these short trips. It’s easier and more comfortable. Where would we fit Hailey? Two, Noah had to be ok with it and he was so excited for me and him to go camping. After all we missed the Fathers and Sons trip because of moving into our new house. I spoke with Noah and of course he said no. I returned the eyes to Juli that said, “Well I tried, what else can I do?” Juli was having none of it and took Noah downstairs to “talk” to him. Whether her hand talked to his behind or her mouth talked to his face, I don’t know. All I know is that Noah comes bounding up the stairs, approaches Hailey and says, “Hailey you can come with us camping!” Hailey was like, “Duh! of course I’m coming!” and the 2 of them bounded off to see what needed to be packed and loaded. Truth be told, I was glad that Hailey was coming. Traditionally, Noah gets bored with his old man on these things and wants to turn around right after getting there. This time that was not an option as the trip to Goblin Valley was going to take about 4 hours one way.

Right before leaving, I called the reservation place and asked about camping spots. The lady on the phone says that all the spots have been reserved except the walkup spots. I immediately felt this uneasy feeling in my stomach but what was done was done. Now both Noah and Hailey knew about the trip and there was no backing out. So we made our way down.

Once we got there and pulled up to the park entrance, I asked the ranger about walkup camp spots. He gently laughed and informed me that there were no spots and there hadn’t been for weeks. They were running an 1/2 marathon the next day and the whole place had been booked for months! Nothing like getting that news after driving in the car with kids hyped up on soda, skittles and cheetos for the past 4 hours. Hey, don’t judge me! In fact the whole experience has me thinking I have PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder). I still wake up at night yelling, “Keep you hands to yourself!”

This brings me to a point in which I wish to digress from the story a bit. It’s my story so deal with it. I have vivid memories of camping with my family, specifically with my Dad. I remember lying in the back of that old Toyota pickup at fathers and sons talking with Dad or heading down to Rocky Point to camp on the beach. I remember having so much fun and being carefree and eating tons of junk food and generally having a blast. Well now I know why that was. If you weren’t aware, camping is hard. You get all dirty, there are no showers or toilets. You sleep on the ground, it is often cold or hot depending on where you go. This means no A/C or heat. There are bugs, germs and all sorts of things that can get into your food, water, and body orifices. And heaven’s-to-betsy we haven’t even talked about bears and skunks! None of this matters though as a kid because well Dad took care of everything. As a kid I didn’t have a worry in the world. If I needed something cleaned, he was there. If I started breaking down crying after mile 31 on our 50 mile hike up and down Mt. Baldy, he was there. (Dislaimer: That never happened. Please notice the IF that precedes that sentence.) When I was hungry, food magically appeared. Camping was great! Well being the Dad on the camping trip is a whole different story and experience. Now please don’t assume that I mean that in a negative way. Nothing could be further from the truth. Watching my son with his first pocket knife carving on a stick or cooking hotdogs over the campfire is so much fun. It makes the work worth it!

Anyways, back to my story. We get there and there are no camping spots. I asked the ranger if there was anything else around and he directed us to BLM land that he said we could camp on. So we set off on an adventure to find a place to camp. We didn’t have to go far when we finally found a spot nestled up against the side of this humongous butte. And no Mindy, that is butte as in a geologic formation, not butt as in the body part. Sheesh! See what I have to work with?!

(our campsite)

(view from our camp as sun was setting)

We were quite literally in the middle of nowhere. I told Juli that if I ever needed to dump a body, I now know where to go. We found a spot and started setting up camp. Generally speaking I don’t like camping in the desert. Once Noah fell into a cactus and I was picking needles out of his butt all night long. Yes Mindy I am now referencing the body part and not the geologic formation. Please try to keep up!

This however was different because Goblin Valley is filled with Hoodoos, and come to find out, Goblin Valley is a free for all hoodoo climbing paradise. After setting up camp we went about exploring the area. right off the bat, Noah is dangling precariously from a ledge yelling, “I am king of the world!”. I could barely keep up with those 2. They were going this way and that way, exploring all over the place.

(Billy the mountain goat!)

At one point Noah said, “Dad, come here!” I walk over and he points to an animal track in the sand. He promptly declares that this is a wolf track and that we need to watch out. I gave out a wolf howl and both of them looked at me like I was crazy! “Really dad? You are going to call the wolves to us?!” Well, their little kid imaginations worked themselves up and we hightailed it back to camp to start a fire and cook dinner.

Without fail and around 7:30 both of them say, “Ok the sun has gone down. Time for bed!” I tried to put them off but nope, they wanted to go to bed. So we got in the car, ALL 3 OF US, and climbed under the covers. It was cramped but I figured that the more bodies, the warmer we would be. We all slept pretty good but apparently Noah got really hot (he was between Hailey and me) and decided he didn’t need covers anymore! Hailey kept waking up asking if there were any more blankets. So I stayed up most of the night trying to keep them warm. According to the ranger it only got down to 31 degrees that night so it wasn’t too bad.

The next morning we woke up and had some breakfast. Hailey promptly had a bathroom accident (no fault of her own) and we cleaned up and decided to go hiking again. This time we made our way back to Goblin Valley proper and paid entrance into the park to climb around.

This place was surreal.

We all loaded up on water and took off. This place would be the ultimate capture the flag field. It was massive and had all these boulders and hoodoos you could climb on. We were in there for an hour before Hailey twisted her ankle. The bad one. She couldn’t walk anymore and so I loaded her up on my back and hiked a mile back to our car. It was all fine and dandy though, Noah wasn’t quite ready to go but he said the kindest thing. He said, “Dad I really want to stay but Hailey is more important than climbing around.” With that we packed it out and headed home. Here are some pictures of us in the park.

Overall we had a great time! And the tell-tell sign that the kids had a good time? Here is the proof:

(notice the death grip on the soda!)

Taking family pictures is always an interesting venture with 3 kids. Trying to take a picture without actually seeing the scene from the camera’s point of view and hoping you get a good shot is even more of an adventure. It usually ends up that we take hundreds of pictures with the hope that we can get at least one with everyone looking and smiling. Last year we actually got a really good picture without a lot of effort so we decided to try again.

We got a late start in the day and by the time we got our act together, the sun was rapidly going down. When we finally made it up the mountain, the sun was already setting, we didn’t have a spot picked out and so we just stopped off by the side of the road so that we didn’t make a wasted trip. I am hoping that the weather will hold out just a little longer so we can try again, but if it doesn’t here ya go. Our latest family pictures.

My extremely HOT wife. She practically melted the snow away!

And last but not least, the 3 rug rats. Hailey the instigator, Noah the joker, and Joslin the extremely photogenic and fantastically cute pretty princess.

Noah just completed his T-ball season tonight and after the game they handed out the trophies. He has been excited since day one about getting a trophy. His last t-ball league gave him this huge golden trophy and his expectation was to get another one just like it. the trophy came in a box and we didn’t open it right away. Driving home he opened it and from the back of the car we hear, “This trophy is CRAP!!”

We asked Noah to pass up the trophy and this is what he got for a trophy.

I could help but laugh and then totally agree! His last comment was, “I wanted a golden trophy, not nuts”

Since Noah and Hailey have been in school, Joslin has taken an interest in writing and coloring. What a princess!!