So, yes, we actually ARE still alive. Why no updates? It turns out having a baby, in addition to having two awesome girls, takes time and effort to manage. Therefore, things slip. Things like updating a web site which serves little actual purpose when the #1 priority in life is getting at least six hours of sleep per night.

So, here is the highlight reel of the past seven months, fourteen days.

Enjoy. We have.

Believe me, I'm thinking what you're thinking. More pictures? Are you kidding me?

It's been an eventful two weeks of life for the little man. Brock got sick, then better, then came home, and then cried, then ate, then shit, then ate... Ugh. Who needs to sleep?

We realize these days will be gone before we know it. Soon, when Brock is quietly borrowing the car at midnight to go visit his girlfriend, we'll wish we could go back to this simple time. Behavior like that runs in the family after all...You knew about the car thing didn't you, mom?

Here are the latest and greatest photos. Enjoy.

Polycythemia be damned, we brought him home. His hematocrit was down to 69 after the procedure, which is better than 74, but still a tad high. The bilirubin jumped up to 12, then 14, then 16, however, the older they get the less worried doctors are about it (unless it flirts with 20). So we're cautiously optimistic.

As it turns out, babies don't come with their own nursing staff. And -- you forget this after six years -- they don't sleep on regular intervals right off the bat. I guess it's fun to feel like a teenager and stay up till 3:30 most nights. Positive thoughts...positive thoughts.

Here are the latest pics. Enjoy.

From 7 a.m. to 4:31 p.m. was the labor. 9 lbs. 6 oz., 20.5 inches long. Good looking fella if I do say so. Turns out -- and Aimee agrees -- that was the easy part.

So.

No reason to panic here, but right off the bat his glucose levels were a tad low. A sharp nurse listened to his breathing and noticed he was red, so she tested his hematocrit levels. Initially they were 76 (they should be below 50 in all mammals), test two was 74, so the diagnosis was a partial exchange transfusion. For all you non-medical-professional readers, this is where they take roughly 1/3 of his blood and exchange it with saline. Oh yeah, and he's two hours old.

The Poor kid toughed it out, despite the fact that all of this monkey business went through his umbilical cord, which, incidentally, is an artery you stop using after you're born. Life sucks sometimes. Now, we're on to the jaundice lights, and patiently waiting...

So, if you had asked me six months ago, "So, Monty, are you planning on having any more ki...". NO.

"But you never know, things happen someti...". NOT WITH ME.

Guess what, they do.

I suppose the Lord managed to intervene. Finally, more testosterone is on the way. On June 15th, the world will know Brock "The Rock" Charlton... I needed a boy anyway. I'd had enough perfume and ribbons. I didn't have anyone to lift weights with, and lighting things on fire just isn't the same with daughters. They just think I'm being immature.

How does that prayer go? God grant me the strength to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change...

Yikes.

So we know San Antonio pretty well by now. It's a nice city -- the freeways are perennially under construction, and nearly a majority of its residents speak English. Yes, we go there lots -- although, now that the gravy days of frequent flyer miles and Marriott perks have come to an end, we may have to switch to Wengo or something. Oh well.

As always, this trip was lots of fun. My mom's heels are nearly heeled, and dad's wallet is still smoking as it pays for this and that and the other thing. The trip began in San Antonio, where we cruised up to Fiesta Texas and reunited with the Superman coaster once again. God bless Superman.

After a couple of days we made our way up to Dallas in the rental car to help Mike bless Alianna. We found a suite in a sweet 1st class hotel (yes, a few Marriott points are still left), hit the pool, and blessed the kid. Just before we needed to get to the airport, we locked the keys in the car just to make the trip more interesting.

Another trip down in the books. Dios bendice América.

The outlook for this year's Moab trip looked dire. Pat had a new baby boy, Monty got a new job, James is James, and Brett is Brett. But hey, Paco's dead after all. And as Queen Amidala once said "I think there's still ....". You're right, Padmé, there is hope.

Lucky for us, Spencer is getting sealed on Sept. 9. (Non-mormon translation: They're already married, this just makes them married once they get to heaven.) Pat, being a good brother, is on his way. So Pat's a GO, Monty's a GO, Spencer is a GO! James? Brett? Yeah right. Oh well, three is better than none. Moab LIVES!

May Paco rest in peace.

Headline translation: We took a cruise on Carnival, who owns Diamonds International, whose products are marketed in every 3rd world port in existence. But why am I starting out cynical?

Our buddies the Christensens got some people together to go on a cruise last February [Editor's note: I have no excuse whatsoever for waiting four months to post this story]. We ponied up some dough, flew to Tampa, and boarded the Carnival Miracle on a lovely Sunday morning. Cruise ships are a funny place. It's a bit like mom and dad leaving all the kids home alone for a week -- except for the servants. Self-discipline and manners are usually the first things to go, quickly followed by fiscal restraint. On cue, enter Diamonds International. Woops, there's the cynicism again.

This isn't a Cruise Critic review, so I'll try to keep it brief. We ate like swine, bounced around to four super port cities, and boogied down each night at the disco till 3am. Rush and The Cure actually can work on a piano. Of course there was Stingray city, reef snorkeling, cave tubing, zip lining, henna tattoos, sunny beaches, questionable cuisine, Mayans, and Mexican haggling. That's par for a cruise. For extra credit, we added a night of hypnotism, followed by chair dancing on stage. Imagine that. Extra extra credit? Speedos.

Not bad for our first embarkment. We made new friends and added water to an ultra concentrated week of memories. Lucky for us, our designated photographer took a hard drive's worth of pictures. Good times were had. We will return to the sea.

Not to sound cynical or anything, but baptisms are a really big deal to Aimee. I think the preparations began in August when she started shopping for dresses, inviting speakers, planning the program, and rounding up attendees. Then there was the schedule change, the other schedule change, then the "No, I want my old schedule back" change. Yes, Aimee won her battles.

And in the end, the baptism was all that she envisioned it to be. The angelic voices of a children's choir, violin serenades, and a heartfelt reminiscence that brought the room to tears. And what were we doing here again? Oh right. splash. Now for the party!

That, I daresay, was the best part of all. My folks, were there, Aimee's were too. James et al. made it. And loads others. Plus the food rocked! It was such a great time that I scheduled another baptism for Sept 26, 2009. See you all there!

You know we had to do something with all those hotel and frequent flyer miles. Why not burn them on the happiest place on earth! For the record, we hate going to Disneyland alone. Our sordid addiction all started with the Lovelands, then next infected the Wamsleys, moved to the Christensens, and this year, it was the Wisemans.

Of course, astute readers know that exactly right here is where I make my remark about how Disneyland is more expensive than buying your way out of a Mexican prison. But this time I'll defer that comment.

It is worth every penny.

Keep in mind that free flights, hotel points, and the kindness of Mr. and Mrs. Kita kept us in the black this trip. Did I say black? Ok, maybe not black, but at least grayish fuscia... Light rouge? Regardless, it was more fun than Cinco de Mayo. And, God willing, we'll be back there again before you can say Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.

It was an adventurous ride at DTI. But it all started out so innocently. After writing a fine application or two, it seemed only logical to send me off to support it in Tacoma. Of course Norfolk, VA needed help too. I wrote more code, then Anchorage wanted someone... And Atlanta, and Santo Domingo, and, Minneapolis, and...

When it was all finished I racked up stops in 23 different cities (with trinkets from each as proof!) encompassing North, Central, South America, and Western Europe. Delta Gold, Marriott Platinum....And family? Oh right...family.

Believe it or not, I have none other than the good Dr. Phil to thank for the inspiration to start looking elsewhere. If you haven't read Family First, go read it. Yes, Todd Beauchene, that means you too.

And as it turns out I got lucky.

If you haven't heard of Corda Technologies, you probably will. Corda has the technology, leadership, and people to win. And if not, we'll probably all die trying. The environment is terrific, and the people are absolutely brilliant. I can't possibly think of a better place to work in Utah.